《Killing Olympia》


 Issue #1: The Superhero Night Shift

    Of all the days for a bank to get robbed, it just had to be on my day off. The ear-splitting sounds of Lower Olympus were shut off by the headphones firmly planted on my ears, keeping the ruckus noises of gunfire, muggings, every day Normals chatter, and police sirens at bay. But when your ears could pick up the sounds of a single crying baby from halfway across the city, you couldn¡¯t blame a girl for not wanting some peace and quiet for once. I was even being productive, well, sort of, by staring at the blank pieces of paper scattered all over my desk that were due tomorrow.


    My comic book wasn¡¯t anywhere near finished, and the stencil of Olympia¡¯s glowering face was clear enough. I sighed, leaning back in my chair, feeling it squeak under my weight. Putting my arms behind my head, I tried to think, to conjure whatever creativity I thought I had simmering inside of me when I pitched the comic to my friends¡¯ agent. But my gut was empty, and my foot was bouncing, and Zeus above, I needed something to do. I had gone out of my way to ask Denny for a day off, doing the dishes until late, mopping the floors and taking out the garbage long after everyone else had left work, earning my time off, but with it, I was painfully bored.


    Well, I had a lot I could do, but none of it felt urgent. There was a calling, though, one that came from the crimson and dark blue costume hanging in my closet. Looking across my room, sporadic yellow light illuminated the darkness, watered down only because of my enhanced eyesight. I frowned, straightening in my chair as another soft burst of light shone through my window, catching the sleeves of my gear. Yellow lights? The street lights had been busted for the past several weeks ever since some electrically charged up superhuman tore up the place.


    More light filled my attic bedroom, dashing its sickly glow over my unmade bed, the superhero posters loosely tacked up on my wall, and my costume airing out from last night¡¯s use.


    Glancing to my right and taking off my headphones, I got my answer: sirens.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± I whispered, reaching for the radio perched on the edge of my desk and turning it on. As I got up, flying toward my closet and sniffing my suit (it was a little hard to send a superhero costume to the laundry without someone noticing; sue me), the radio came to life.


    ¡°¡ªin progress, I repeat, a robbery in progress. We¡¯ve got a 10-30, Belcrest Bank building,¡± a male operator relayed, voice hoarse. Red and blue lights flashed past my window. The SDU and the New Olympus PD working together on this? I groaned, slipping into my gear in mid-air, a hassle to do when bits of whoever¡¯s body I had taken apart last night slipped into the soles of my boots. Have you ever had a finger and strips of flesh in your gear before? The worst.


    At least I managed to get the dried blood out of my hair, I thought. Small positives.


    ¡°Named suspects?¡± a woman asked. A grunt, a screech of rubber on tarmac, loud enough that I heard it from both the radio and just outside my window, then a white hot flash of light.


    I smiled to myself, sticking a tiny bluetooth earpiece into my ear. Supervillains¡ªnow that¡¯s something I could definitely deal with tonight. I¡¯d finish the comic after I ripped ¡®em a new one.


    Pausing by my window, I waited, making sure no more armored SDU trucks were racing beneath my apartment building. Nothing. The streets were clear, the darkness of night heavy.


    A black cat was perched on the window sill below me, staring at me expectantly.


    Tiny arcs of golden electricity jumped between my fingers, flickering my weak lightbulb. In a blink, I hurtled out of the window and high into the smoggy Lower Olympus air. My hair whipped against my face as I rose, skimming across the factory brimmed skyline. The lower east end was a darkening shadow of New Olympus, strangled by the forgotten section of Patriot Broadwalk that nobody in their right mind would dare walk down at night. It was a tumor of cracked concrete, reinforced windows, and silent alarms that suckled on the glinting lights of the upper west side. Dark, dingy, reeking of whatever was rotting in the alley beside your apartment, it wasn¡¯t a place you¡¯d keep the lights on in your bedroom at night. It made searching for the police and the SDU a lot easier, not that the supervillains and their thugs made it hard to miss them.


    In front of the chaotic, snaking progression blasting away from the police was a large armored vehicle, with thick wheels and even thicker steel panels covering it. Someone was at the wheel of the beast, making sure that any other car¡ªand civilians, I noted, watching as someone got turned to mangled pasty meat¡ªon the road got out of their way. Gaudy laughter came from the cabin. Behind it were three black SUVs, all with gunmen leaning out of the windows, some from the sunroof of the cars, firing at the police and not wasting any ammo on the SDU trucks. Alright, not the most creative robbery in history, but it would make for some fun before going back home.


    Because you still have work to do, and a stupid little bank robbery isn¡¯t gonna stop that.


    ¡°Three stolen vehicles,¡± the operator said through my earpiece. I gained ground easily, the tail end of the police chase right below me now. ¡°Nine hostiles, armed and dangerou¡ª¡±


    The rear doors of the leading armored bank truck swung open. A woman appeared from its bowels, dressed in a deep black dress that seemed to pour down her shapely form. She spread her arms, flicked her wrists, and the tarmac underneath the chasing police cars punched upward, sending cars and officers into the air. I sucked air through my teeth, angled through the sky, and shot down toward them, catching one car by the bumper and another by the bars across the roof. The landing wasn¡¯t gentle, but I set the cars down, stopping myself with a skid, caught another car that forced me into a stumble, setting me two steps back, and leaped to catch the last three officers spinning through the air. Two overweight older men and one young Black woman shook like leaves off a tree when I set them down (again, not gently, but not too hard because humans had a bad tendency of dying if you treated them too roughly). They vomited, swore, and stared at me.


    Amazement was in their eyes, as if yes, it really was me standing in front of them. The media called me a murderer, but that was reserved for the bad guys, so I guess it was a surprise.


    ¡°You guys sit this one out,¡± I said, turning away to face the sky. ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know why you still bother.¡± Pulse racing, I shot down the street, narrowly clipping the side of a building with my shoulder as I caught up. Adrenaline was in my veins now, blood singing in my ears.


    I wasn¡¯t excited, because superheroes should never get excited about crime.


    But¡­ Come on, playing with humans was just so fun, especially when they fought back.


    ¡°Shit,¡± someone on the comms said. ¡°We¡¯ve got another Supe on our tail.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, fellas, it¡¯s just your girl in red and blue,¡± I said over the wind, though I doubted the police could hear me, close to their windows or not. Two more police cars were ahead, revving madly to keep up. The woman in black swept her arms through the air, ripping chunks of concrete from store fronts and throwing them toward us. I swore, dipped low, grabbed the first police car and the second by their side panels, my fingers digging through the metal like a knife in butter, and flew sideways, narrowly dodging the car-sized boulders that smashed into the road.


    Panting, I glanced at the white-faced officers in their cars as I let them drop to the concrete. Civilians, in a mad dash to safety, tripped over themselves trying to get away from the chaos. Some stopped and gaped at me, others simply shrieked. An officer looked me up and down, fury and gratefulness battling it out on his face. I didn¡¯t care much about his reaction¡ªthe police were a liability to themselves and everyone involved, and to make sure they didn¡¯t go anywhere, I forced my fist through the hoods of their cars, encouraging them to sit and stay like good boys and girls.


    Now it was time to deal with the SDU and whoever else was hiding in the truck.


    I was on them in a heartbeat, wind screaming in my ears as I shot toward the armored truck veering wildly from one side of the road to the other. The SDU trucks were trying and failing to get on either side of the vehicle, maybe to force whoever was driving the thing to a halt. I landed atop one truck, crouching low, my lungs burning. This wasn¡¯t going to work out, working with these idiots in the black and blue trucks. My target was the bank vault on four wheels ahead of us, and I couldn¡¯t have the SDU firing their special-grade assault rifles at me as I tried stopping them.


    Or, you know, watching as I stuck my hand through a supervillain''s chest.


    Humans didn¡¯t like seeing the inside of people, apparently. Maybe because it made them feel as mushy and doughy as they always felt in my hands after ramming them through a wall.


    Besides, I thought, knocking my knuckles against the hatch below me. The only superhero in the world can¡¯t ruin her street cred. I¡¯ll kill the villains somewhere private, like the Atlantic.


    I waited, one knee beside the circular hatch, for the bastards to open it up for me. The last time I tore a hole through one of these trucks, we got into an altercation that left a few people less than able to keep their guts inside of them. It was a mess with these humans, because when wasn¡¯t it? But before I could knock again, the woman in the truck¡ªWitchling, I guessed, judging from her obsidian black eyes, black nails, and spooling scarlet hair¡ªclenched her fists, breaking apart the boulders behind us into tiny shards. My eyes widened, realization clicking moments too late.


    I hated fighting certain supervillains for certain reasons. Most times, I barely broke a sweat fighting any villain ranked B and below, but Witchling was one of my least favorite, simply because, if she spent time training instead of doing crime, she could very easily be an S-Grade.


    Currently, every S-Grade in history was either dead or missing. Until I did a superhuman aptitude test in the Olympiad, I wouldn¡¯t know what grade I was, but I doubted Witchling needed a test.


    The shards of stone zipped toward us, then paused beside the truck. In the split second it took for me to watch the first of them glow white hot, I glanced at her, seeing her widening smile.


    A fist of heat punched me off balance and slammed me into the tarmac. I rolled, landing hard on my shoulder. Getting my bearings, I forced my fingers into the pavement, flipping myself over into a sliding crouch until I was firmly on all fours, panting, sure, but not spinning head over heels anymore. My head buzzed, my ears whined. Grit lined my teeth as I spat saliva and knuckled spit off my lips. The white hot flashes from earlier must have come from her. The power to manipulate matter into anything she wished was a dream come true for dozens of superhumans.


    It was just a pain in the ass for me.


    I staggered onto my feet, my temples pounding painfully. Smoke rolled off my uniform, barely scathed apart from the soot dusting my shoulders. Nothing substantial, but the truck was worse for wear. It was a molten slag heap of black metal and rubber slumped beside a flower boutique, a pillar of smoke rising into the sky from its carcass. I didn¡¯t pause to check whether anyone in the armored truck had survived. What was the point in even bothering, anyway? I couldn¡¯t hear a single heartbeat from inside the sludge, and checking would only make my gut turn at the sight of the soupy, visceral mess that the supercharged heat would have done to their little human bodies. The special crimes unit wouldn¡¯t be here quick enough to stop people from taking photos and posting them online, but that was the least of my worries as I rose higher into the sky.


    Enough games, and enough wasting time. First, the three SUVs, then I¡¯d pop Witchling¡¯s head clean off her shoulders and send it to the chief of the SDU as a summer solstice gift.


    More electricity leaped between my fingertips, glinting off the shattered glass of storefronts and shop windows, parked cars and office buildings that littered the street. I flew, low and fast, bullets prodding my shoulders and cheeks, thumping pointlessly against my skin in rapid fire succession as I grew closer and closer, meters turning to inches, then I smashed straight through the three gunmen jutting out of the sunroof of each SUV. Upper bodies turned to crimson mist and shattered bone, bursting over me like organ-filled zits. I spat flesh from my mouth seconds before I reached Witchling, then flew straight down at a right angle, slamming into the tarmac with such force that I cratered the street. I had a split second to brace my shoulders and square my feet.


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    Then the first SUV slammed against me full force, the second ramming directly into the first. The screeching sound of shredded iron was dampened by the soft squelch of bodies flying through windshields and smearing across the pavement. The third SUV screeched around the mess of steel and flesh, barely avoiding the pile up that consumed most of the tiny two-way street.


    ¡°Gods, that freaking hurt,¡± I muttered, rolling my shoulder. A dull throbbing ache ran across my arm as I raised it over my head, stretching the muscles and testing out my collarbone.


    Luckily, the final SDU truck juddered to a halt just behind the pile up. Other cars had gotten involved, with civilians stumbling around with blood streaming from wounds sliced across their heads. Some groaned, holding limp arms. Others rushed to gather friends and family from the back seats of their cars. The SDU would prioritize dealing with the civilians before pestering me.


    Superheroes were illegal, yes, but without me, who knows what could have happened? They would be dealing with Witchling and the truck driver for the whole night, raising millions of dollars in property damage because, at the end of the day, they were just humans in high-tech Kevlar with special-grade assault weapons; a lot like mystery meat stuffed in a can just waiting to be popped open and scooped out by the bear hands of any superhuman higher than a C grade.


    I pointed at a reasonably conscious-looking guy as I started jogging down the street. ¡°Call Damage Control!¡± I yelled over my shoulder. ¡°Be a superhero and save the day, too!¡±


    Down the street I shot, left and right through the maze that was the upper west side. The further I got from Lower Olympus, the shinier the buildings became, the more expensive the cars parked along the pavement were, and the louder the shriek of laughter coming from the armored bank truck grew. Witchling had her hand pressed against the sidewall of the truck, keeping her balance as it swerved. Another figure appeared beside her, cursing something I couldn¡¯t hear over the wind screaming in my ears. The traffic, though, was a lot heavier than in Lower Olympus, and by my guess, it was what the other person in the truck was yelling about. Just as I swung around the side of a skyscraper, so did the armored vehicle, right into the stalled flow of beeping cars.


    A roadblock dead in the middle of the city. People in their cars and all over the streets.


    They only started screaming, panicking, when the bank truck screeched onto the sidewalk, smearing half of a woman¡¯s torso along the pavement as the truck ran over her midsection.


    The driver didn¡¯t slow down. The engine roared, dropping the remaining SUV by a dozen paces. Witchling flicked her finger, and a lamp post slammed into it, stopping it dead. I frowned, briefly wondering why she¡¯d stop her own goons (hired or not, it didn¡¯t matter) from following, before dozens of high pitched squeals of terror pierced through the wind¡¯s howl and into my ears.


    No matter how fast the Normals would try to run, they wouldn¡¯t escape the truck.


    A tiny, sickly part of my brain told me to stop in the air, watch them scramble like ants as some of them were trampled and crushed by cars getting shoved out of the truck¡¯s warpath, watch until they screamed my name to the sky, pleading for me to save them. I would be all over the news, the billboards, the magazines and social media for days on end. Olympia Saves City, the headlines would read, and I¡¯d rip it from the newspaper and stick it on my wall with the rest of the less savory tabloid headlines I¡¯d been able to gather about myself. I shuddered, smiling to myself.


    But that part of me was a silent mistress whispering deadly nothings to the deaf.


    The superhero inside of me won out. The¡­ human part, I guessed.


    ¡°Let¡¯s hope this works,¡± I said, words lost to the wind as I blew toward the street.


    Witchling saw me first, then the other superhuman beside her. For a moment, I thought she would throw a car at me, or a person, but instead, she turned away, as if she hadn¡¯t seen me at all.


    I took the small win and carved my fingers into the thick roof of the truck. I groaned, gritting my teeth as I gasped under the weight of the behemoth of a van. Closer to the traffic. Wheels hardly off the ground. Godsdammit, Rylee! I thought, pulling upward, trying to get a grip on the metal, trying to yank on several tons moving faster than it ever should. Normals ducked, throwing themselves to the pavement as I lifted the truck off the tarmac. Inches, that¡¯s how much I skimmed the top of cars, the space between us and the streets slowly growing as I used our shared momentum to fly above the line of traffic and the broken down jumble of trucks stuck on the street.


    My muscles strained under the weight, my shoulders burning with effort. Someone inside the van wasn¡¯t making it easy for me, but they were in the air now, dozens of feet above New Olympus. My territory. I continued rising, flying away from the city and nearer to the rocky beaches at the east of the harbor. Exhaustion was catching up to me, my body burning up more energy than I had in my gut. Head pounding, stomach turning. The urge to puke came and went as my fingers trembled. Dropping the truck now would kill them, sure, but it would kill civies too.


    So when we got to the jagged, vacant, frothing beach, I let the truck go with a thud.


    The front end punched into the sand, digging its nose into the moonlit beach. I landed beside it, taking a moment to catch my breath. I should have eaten before dealing with this mess, because now my heart was pounding against my ribs, my stomach doing much of the same.


    The thought of having to kill these villains nearly made me¡ª


    A figure lunged from the rear of the truck. I snorted with pitty, flying backward, then felt as if an invisible truck had slammed into me as I suddenly jerked forward and ate a right hook to the jaw.


    My canines chewed into my tongue, and blood gushed into my mouth. I swallowed the hot liquid iron, gasping at the taste and the sting aching across my face. Witchling, I thought, glaring at the new superhuman facing me. She¡¯s working with whoever the hell just made me bleed.


    Their costume wasn¡¯t anything worth remembering, with white wrist tape wrapped around their now bloodied knuckles, a full black helmet, and dark red and blue Kevlar body armor. The air surrounding them was distorted, quaking as they lifted their fists and inched forward.


    ¡°And who the hell are you supposed to be?¡± I asked, searching my brain for answers.


    The stark white irises shining behind their angular mask gave nothing away as they charged forward. A right hook and a jab, blocked and parried, but before I could kick out, a wave of sand slammed into my midsection. I stumbled, got my arm up to block a kick hard enough to make me¡ªme!¡ªgrunt in agonizing pain. Whoever this was, they could hit and hit hard. But at the end of the day, they were fighting the daughter of Zeus herself¡ªluckily for them, we were right next to a beach, perfect for washing the blood off my hands when I¡¯m done with her body.


    When they charged again, I anticipated when Witchling would use her powers to force me closer to Knuckles. Stepping back, I dodged a kick to the gut, flipping over them when sand shot upward from the beach below me. I wrapped my legs around their head, spun, and slammed them into the sandy dune. Sliding away, I was quick to grab their wrist, their neck, then throw them as hard as I could against the van still sticking up from the beach like a warped chunk of white steel.


    Witchling¡ªthat bitch, I swear¡ªcaught them mid-air before they could hit the van hard enough to splinter the skull underneath that rigid black face mask. She climbed out, bricks of gold levitating in the air above her head. Sweat glistened on her forehead, mixing with the blood on her temple and the roug¨¦ lipstick smeared across her face. Hair billowing over her shoulder, she looked like a movie star, though one with a temper and a flare for violence in her eternally black eyes.


    Two more people followed, one leaning against another. Damsel, hard to not notice, with her sunflower-yellow hair and uncanny blue eyes, limped as the man beside her helped put her onto the beach. Ace smiled at me, his grin white, his eyes glinting. His short cropped black hair was wild in the wind, matching his ratty air force jacket that slapped against his bare chest.


    ¡°Great, the gang¡¯s all here,¡± I said, rolling my still aching shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with, guys. I¡¯ve got stuff to do tonight, and a meeting in the morning that I cannot miss.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, princess,¡± Ace said, one side of his mouth quirking into a higher smile. His powers had always been vague, but it was something to do with being able to see the best possible outcome for whatever goal he wanted. A threat to someone lesser than me. ¡°The show¡¯s over.¡±


    ¡°Ain¡¯t you supposed to ask why we stole the gold?¡± Damsel said, drawling. A B-grade teleporter. I was tense, ready. Waiting.  ¡°And ain¡¯t you interested in who we¡¯re gonna give it to?¡±


    ¡°Not so much as seeing how you¡¯d look with your chest caved in.¡±


    ¡°Snarky,¡± she said with a playful snarl. ¡°I woulda loved playing with you, hun.¡±


    ¡°But we¡¯ve gotta run, superstar!¡± Ace said. ¡°But it¡¯s not everyday Zeus¡¯ brat fights you, so for that, Witchling, give ¡®er a kiss goodbye, and Damsel?¡± He pulled her close, hand tight on her waist; Damsel smiled at me, wriggling her fingers. ¡°Let¡¯s go to a real beach, why don¡¯t we?¡±


    Witchling snapped her fingers, and the sand at my feet erupted into a blast of fiery heat. I was flung upward and through the air, regaining my balance seconds later. The sea hissed and boiled, steam blowing off its surface as the heat dissipated. I shook my head, blinking the moving blotches of light from my eyes. The sand where I had stood had crystallized, glimmering under the stars and the sea, but doing me no favors in telling where the four of them had disappeared to by way of Damsel¡¯s powers. Great, I thought, perching on the side of the van and checking the emptiness of the cabin. All that was left of the several dozen slabs of gold they had stolen was a single slab, one that had a note attached to it, signed by Ace, telling me to go fuck myself.


    I squeezed the metal out of frustration. I shouldn¡¯t have let them vanish so easily. I didn¡¯t really care who they stole the gold for or why; I wasn¡¯t a detective, just a superhero, but losing to a pair of B-grades, a possible S-grade, and some idiot who thought punching me hard would make me leave them alone, was like turning a knife in my gut and making a mess of my pride.


    ¡°You¡¯re Zeus¡¯ fucking daughter,¡± I muttered as the blaring noise of SDU trucks neared. ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to let people like that get away, dumbass. Now they¡¯ll just come back.¡±


    Villains were like cockroaches. If you killed one, more would pop up. If you let one live, even more would scurry around, excited by the prospect of being able to win against you.


    All you could really do was exterminate them, and make it very clear to the rest of them lurking in the dark what would happen if they dared to show their faces in broad daylight.


    But if word got out that Olympia had lost to people so pathetic, then¡­


    More villains, more time in the spotlight as I pick them off, I thought. Not so bad, then.


    The thumping of boots against sand pulled me from my thoughts, forcing me to wipe the smile off my face as men and women in heavy blue armor ran toward me and the truck. The SDU were my least favorite anti-crime unit, right alongside the CIA and FBI for how nosy they were, but they were deathly efficient. Soldiers decked in head-to-toe armor circled the van, scanning it with some kind of small silver device before deeming it clear. One of them found the gold bar I¡¯d squeezed in the sand, quickly sectioning it off into a sealed black cylinder. Like ants to sugar, they swarmed the truck, presumably scanning for fingerprints, power residue, or anything of the sort.


    They largely ignored me as I hovered just above the beach, except for one of them.


    ¡°Is one of your superpowers the ability to induce public terror?¡± a man asked. I didn¡¯t have to glance to my left to know Lucas was talking to me and only me. The SDU lieutenant was an old friend of mine, but strangely enough, I never got any Christmas cards from him. Tall, muscular, graying, with a dusting of constant five o¡¯clock shadow on his jaw, and piercing green eyes, he was the only one of his agents not covered in full body gear. All he wore was a loose, dusty black trench coat, an even looser tie around his neck, and had his knuckles bunched in his pockets.


    ¡°That would be considered terrorism,¡± I said. ¡°Which isn¡¯t one of them, turns out.¡±


    ¡°Then would you care to explain the millions worth of property damage you left in your wake?¡± he said, his voice not rising, but lowering to a baritone. ¡°Or the two civilians you left for dead in a crumpled car because, in your mind, you thought stopping a chase dead in traffic¡ª¡±


    I waved my hand through the air. His eyes narrowed. ¡°I dealt with the threat.¡±


    ¡°You got innocent people hurt, others killed. Those thugs are dead and useless.¡±


    I smiled at him. ¡°At least you don¡¯t have to bother trying to identify their remains.¡±


    Lucas stared at me, expressionless. ¡°Care to tell us where the villains went or how they got away?¡± he said, finally. ¡°Because the media won¡¯t be saying we lost their tail. It¡¯ll be you.¡±


    I shrugged, yawning behind my hand. ¡°Teleportation. Damsel was with them, and so was Ace and Witchling, and some jackass who split my tongue. Can you see that? I might need¡ª¡±


    ¡°Rylee,¡± he said quietly, making me pause. We were far enough away from the rest of them to keep it between us, but hearing my name made me sick. ¡°You let supervillains get away, all because you¡¯re not taking this seriously. This isn¡¯t a game, it should never be. Why did they steal from Belcrest Bank of all buildings? Who were they working for? But asking you these questions is made pointless because I¡¯m more than sure you¡¯ve got no answer to any of them. Correct?¡±


    I was silent, a hot anger bubbling in my gut as I watched the SDU agents work.


    ¡°Chaos fuckin¡¯ walking,¡± he muttered. ¡°Some god damned superhero you are, playing dress up.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t let them go just so I can play superhero,¡± I growled, glaring at him.


    ¡°So grow up and understand the consequences of what you allowed to happen tonight, all of which could have been easily avoided,¡± he said coldly. ¡°The only reason I don¡¯t have you arrested, bound, sent off to court for breaking the Black Capes law several dozen times¡ª


    ¡°¡ªis because by the time you even tried, I would have wiped out your entire force.¡±


    Lucas glanced at me, intelligent eyes chilling as they bore right through me. ¡°See that right there? Your anger? Your directed anger? If you wanted to, you could have gotten them.¡± He lit a half-smoked cigarette he pulled from his pocket. ¡°But you didn¡¯t, because you¡¯re not half as good at being a superhero as you think, Ry. All that power, and it¡¯s wasted on someone like you.¡±


    He walked away, leaving my throat dry and my tongue fat in my throat. Silent. Contemplating. Beyond angry that he even had the nerve to question my fucking heritage.


    ¡°Not so much as a ¡®thanks for saving all those damned Normals¡¯?¡± I shouted.


    ¡°You¡¯ll get your thanks when you¡¯re deserving of being called Zeus¡¯ daughter,¡± Lucas said, not turning to face me. ¡°Now fuck off, kid. The blood on your hands won¡¯t wash itself.¡±

 Issue #2: No Use Crying Over Spilled Coffee

    Contrary to what Lucas thought, the blood staining my nails and dyeing my hair a light shade of crimson flaked off all by itself as I flew over New Olympus. My people generally generated more body temperature than what a human body usually did, meaning that liquids often evaporated clean off my body, or peeled off my skin and hair over time. The heat wasn¡¯t something I could control, more like a bi-product of how my body physically dealt with so much muscle use, meaning it was a lot like the boiling frustration in my gut that only grew as I watched the scene below me.


    Several city blocks had been torn up by rapid gunfire and Witchling¡¯s superpowers, shattering glass, splitting concrete, and chewing up parts of New Olympus that went deeper into the heart of the city. Traffic moved at a snail¡¯s pace, and the police were trying their damndest to divert honking cars down side streets. The Olympiad¡ªa building so large and dark it was a blight on the shine of the city¡ªstood stoic and silent, its quietness an answer to what they thought of the superhuman chaos that was spread around it. Seemingly, everything that happened tonight wasn¡¯t a threat large enough to come up on their radar, which meant that the police and their sister department¡ªthe SDU¡ªhad to deal with the mess smeared over the streets of New Olympus.


    The noise alone from the cars, the Normals, and alarms was just as infuriating as the feeling Lucas left me with, this kind of growing sense that the SDU were even considering me a liability.


    So what if a few storefronts and chunks of pavement were destroyed? Like human babies, they could be replaced with enough hard work. These things¡ªpeople, I reminded myself¡ªcreated their entire civilization off the back of never giving up, and suddenly I was their biggest problem?


    Gold could be mined, supervillains could easily be killed, but chaos? Noise? Those continued, grew, like a cancerous little tumor that would only stop once you put a hole through it.


    Yes, the news would be on my back, and so would social media, but like all things, silence would win out against the Normals and their bullshit and we could all go back to praising me.


    Because at the end of it all, I was what they had left. I was the reason supervillains lurked around in the dark, terrified of what would happen if I found them. Tonight was an outlighter.


    But Lucas thought otherwise. ¡°Fuck off,¡± he¡¯d said. Earth would fall the day I did.


    ¡°Ungrateful much?¡± I muttered, folding my arms as I hovered. Beneath me, skyscrapers loomed over the ruined streets, just as uncaring of the destruction as I was in that moment.


    New Olympus had its scars, sure, but you wouldn¡¯t guess it from the billions of dollars worth of star dust that was rubbed into the eyes of those watching from distant shores and neighboring states. Billboards and neon advertisements grew in frequency as you got further away from the upper west side, leaving Lower Olympus in this perpetual shadow of artificial light and a facade hidden by the wealth that leered over its rotting underbelly. That¡¯s what manufactured crime¡ªthe humans, not me, and if they wanted to pretend they could handle it all by themselves, then maybe they should figure out how to fix their freaking shiny little city before insulting me.


    But¡­ I was being irate. I was better than that, feeling put off by a Normal. The day was saved (and besides, the Blecrest family wouldn¡¯t even notice the loss), and the villains had vanished. I could spend all night combing the west coast of the States if I wanted, but my stomach cramps were only getting more intense as the wailing shriek of Damage Control¡¯s heavy duty cleanup trucks began filling the streets like roaches scuttling toward a reeking dumpster. Their white uniformed operators were quick, clearing rubble and car wrecks, offering medical assistance to bleeding Normals, and making sure that buildings were structurally sound in just minutes.


    Peacekeepers, they called them, because you could relax when they were around.


    That wasn¡¯t to say I couldn¡¯t spot the operators with guns on their hips or rifles in their arms, their faces hidden behind full face masks that made their swiveling heads ominous. Silent. Watching. One glanced up toward the sky, spotting me, before moving to deal with a Normal.


    Helping Damage Control was out of the question. Their mother company, Blackwood Pharma, wasn¡¯t anti-super, but they tended to get a little more colorful around superhumans. Their assault rifles wouldn¡¯t kill me, but Olympia Vs Damage Control would make me public enemy number one in a world where being a superhero was just about the worst career decision ever. The benefits sucked and the vacations didn¡¯t exist, and oh, they¡¯d throw me in prison or try to kill me the day they ever got their slimy little human paws on me. There was a whole Olympus News special on whether a nuke could take me out if the need ever arose, which, spoilers, it couldn¡¯t.


    Screw it, I could find something more important to do, like deal with my hunger.


    I¡¯d grab something to eat, then¡­ I cursed, massaging my temples. I had to get back home and finish the comic book before my morning meeting, but the need for more action was already hot in my veins. You couldn¡¯t expect me to sit around and do nothing except stare at drawings of myself all night long. Besides, I thought. If I did, then I wouldn¡¯t be taking this gig ¡®seriously.¡¯


    Like the Superhuman Defence Unit had any idea on what serious meant. If they took their jobs seriously, then they would have gotten out of my way and let me deal with the supervillains.


    Removing them from the picture sometimes crossed my mind, but¡­


    I shook my head, turning through the sky and flying toward the Lower Olympus bay area, the smell of wet concrete, rotting wood, and dead fish strong in the air. I couldn¡¯t afford to think that way. I made a promise before¡­ Well, it didn¡¯t matter now. I was a superhero, not a maniac.


    ¡°If you want to get rid of the threat, then first get rid of the supervillain,¡± dad had told me. But, admittedly, trying to find out who exactly the supervillain was sometimes got a little hard.


    Because a lot of the time, it felt like the humans didn¡¯t want peace anywhere near as much as they claimed to desperately need it. I had a solution, but I doubted they¡¯d like it much.


    Apparently wiping out large swathes of them was a bad thing on this planet.


    A few minutes later, after flying circles around a quad of abandoned apartment buildings near the boardwalk, I landed softly on top of a gravel-layered roof. Dead cigarette butts, used knives, broken beer bottles and a dash of rusting needles crunched underneath my boots. I was sure a pack of squatters was living somewhere in these rotting buildings, possibly just as worn down as the crumbling bricks and shattered windows. It wouldn¡¯t be much longer until either mayor Blackwood tore the eyesore down, or some villain infested it after figuring that paying no rent for their crime hive made life easier. For now, it was where I kept one of my dozens of spare backpacks around the city. Taped deep in the bowels of an air vent, I reached in and dusted it off.


    Flying home would only draw attention to me. Shooting out of the window when nobody was watching was one thing, but flying home vaguely stinking of blood and organs was another.


    I wouldn¡¯t have to hide who I was if superheroes weren¡¯t a thing of the past. But the only superhero in modern times had a target on her back, and, yeah, a few humans she cared about.


    Making sure the rooftop was empty, I pulled the filthy costume off my body. Sweat glistened on my bare arms, my sports bra drenched and my tights no better. The suit came off easily, leaving my body to get assaulted by the brisk ocean breeze as I tucked it away into my backpack. I¡¯d need to wash it soon, and maybe learn how to knit to repair the holes and the tears that were making their way along the arms and torso of it. I shrugged, knowing they were problems I couldn¡¯t afford right now. I could probably find an old costume tailor, but I¡¯d also not be able to pay rent for the next few months after their services. They¡¯d need hush money to keep quiet, too. I could threaten them, sure, maybe follow their kid home one day, but I was a superhero.


    So sewing it was, and maybe try and buy my own washing machine? How much were those? I could stop by Ronnie¡¯s place when she went to work, but I¡¯d rather die than do that.


    Just another reason I needed to stop procrastinating and finish my comic book soon.


    A pair of sneakers and a faded red crop top over my head later, I looked just like one of the humans living around this area of the city, out late on a run around Lower Olympus before the imposed curfew. I tore through several packs of granola bars, crumbs dusting my shirt as I finished. From the tiny light coming from a spare phone, I could just about make it seem like I was having a hard time digging through my bag if anyone was watching. But, in all honesty, I just found it fun to act like one of them, the superheroes you read about in the old comics they didn¡¯t sell anymore.


    Hell, I dealt with dozens of humans every day, being that I worked in a coffee shop, and they didn¡¯t blink twice at me. Speak like them, act like them, but be better than any one of them.


    ¡°Just like dad said,¡± I whispered, slinging the bag over my shoulder. I could just about see the ocean peaking through decrepit buildings and boarded windows. Midnight black, reaching toward the horizon. Crime and its shrieking call was a noise I pushed to the back of my head as I focused on the silence, forgetting, for a moment, about the humans surrounding me for miles.


    Then I paused, hand on the raised roof wall of the apartment building. The soft stink of ozone filled my lungs, a disgusting little scent that was quickly overtaken by expensive perfume.


    I dug my fingers into the brick, turned on my heels, and threw it as hard as I could.


    The brick shot through thin air, zipping through the night before disappearing into what I hoped was an abandoned bedroom several blocks away. I flinched when I heard someone yelp.


    ¡°What do Americans call that?¡± a voice asked beside me. ¡°Strike, right? You¡¯re out.¡±


    I tensed my jaw and glanced to my right, where Emelia was sitting on the low wall. Dressed similarly in running gear, she wasn¡¯t anywhere near as sweaty as me. I doubted the girl could sweat, anyway. And judging by her silky black hair and smooth brown skin, I figured that neither her pores nor her hair knew anything about the words sweat or physical exertion.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you know using your superpowers in public is illegal?¡± I said, eyes narrowing.


    Emelia smiled, just like she did on a few of her billboards dozens of blocks away. ¡°If they ever locked me up, you¡¯d be right there with me in Olympus Pen. I call top bunk, by the way.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t expecting to meet up with her tonight, and talking to Em was a game I needed all my energy for, and judging by my growling stomach, that was my queue to make for a getaway.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°What the hell do you want?¡± I said. ¡°Don¡¯t you have a movie to shoot or something?¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°I saw you make a mess of New Olympus, then figured I should come and check on my second favorite blonde.¡± In a pop of blue electricity, she was on my left. ¡°Well?¡± Em asked, looking me up and down. ¡°Thoughts on destroying only an eighth of the city today?¡±


    ¡°Second favorite?¡± I said, hand on my chest. ¡°Is my least favorite actress cheating on me?¡±


    ¡°Oh, please,¡± she said, waving her hand. ¡°If I did, then you wouldn¡¯t have any friends.¡±


    Snorting, I climbed onto the wall. ¡°I¡¯ve got tons of friends. You¡¯re just an accessory.¡± I leapt off the wall, floating my way down onto the overgrown grass quad in front of the building. ¡°And a spare bank account that talks too much and should leave me alone a lot more often.¡±


    Em was already waiting by the time I was there, leaning against a buzzing lamp post. ¡°Rylee,¡± she said. ¡°City-wide destruction. Escaped supervillains. It¡¯s already all over the news.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m starving,¡± I said, walking past her and onto the empty street. ¡°So unless you came to give me something to eat, I¡¯m not gonna listen to whatever speech you¡¯ve got for me.¡±


    ¡°How about a proposal?¡± she said, suddenly beside me. ¡°I buy you dinner, and you talk me through why the hell you thought killing nine people in broad daylight was a good fucking idea.¡±


    I spread my arms, exhausted. ¡°They were criminals. They were shooting at people. What else did you want me to do, Em? Just let them keep firing their fifty cal rounds into civilians?¡±


    She stopped in front of me, looking me dead in the eyes. We were about the same height, but she was slimmer, had longer legs, and looked like she¡¯d stepped off a movie set. I guessed she must have, running her way here from wherever it was her newest tv show was being filmed.


    I wasn¡¯t jealous that she was making money from being a superhuman, but that was the easy way out. The world reduced us to monkeys in colorful costumes, being told to jump and clap for the masses because it would make us rich and the Normals not so afraid of what we actually were. Emelia was part of that superhuman PR industry, and a part of me hated that she so quickly shook their greasy, meaty human palms just because fighting crime independently was illegal now.


    Yes, the superhero salary sucked, but dad did it for nothing, dying for the sake of being a hero. So excuse me for not allowing some two-bit thugs to point their machine guns at Normals.


    ¡°Do you ever stop and think about what you do?¡± she asked quietly.


    I stared hard at her. ¡°Not when people usually stand in my way and piss me off.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s what I¡¯m doing? Annoying you?¡± Em put her hands on her hips, shaking her head. ¡°Dios m¨ªo, Rylee, you¡¯re making the rest of us look like murderers. Freaking animals.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why you¡¯re so stressed out, Em,¡± I said frustratedly, budging past her. ¡°You¡¯ll get your check and I''ll get my street cred, criminals stop doing crime because of me, and you go back home to your mansion because you¡¯re a filthy little sellout. Everyone fucking wins.¡±


    Another soft explosion, and this time the street lights flickered. I glanced around us, scanning alleyways and barren windows. Nothing. Nobody. A black cat bounded into the shadows between two buildings, pausing to train its luminous feline yellow eyes on us before vanishing.


    Emelia stood in front of me again, arcs of electricity sparking in her usually amber eyes.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t come all this way to fight you, Rylee,¡± Emelia said measuredly. ¡°But¡ª¡±


    ¡°Then don¡¯t waste your time,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯d probably ruin that million dollar face, anyway.¡± I walked past her, not caring about the tiny jolt that shot through my arm as I brushed against her.


    ¡°Keep walking, Ry, and I¡¯ll stop paying your rent,¡± Emelia said, still behind me. My stomach tensed. I stopped, teeth grinding in annoyance. ¡°There. Now we can talk like adults.¡±


    It felt like my leash had been snagged, choking the air right out of my throat. It was a low blow, something that my bulletproof skin felt just as well as being stabbed deep in the gut.


    ¡°Fine,¡± I said, throwing my backpack onto a vandalized bench outside of a run down barber shop. I sat, arms resting on the back of the weak, squeaky wood. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with.¡±


    Emelia sighed, pinching her angular nose. ¡°I just want you to understand that your actions always have consequences.¡± She looked at me, her expression softening. ¡°You¡¯ve got a responsibility not just to yourself, but to the whole world. You¡¯re¡­¡± She paused, sitting beside me, lowering her voice as she said, ¡°You¡¯re a superhero, Rylee. The only one left. If you go around killing anyone, gangsters, purse snatchers, or whoever, then that¡¯ll make the rest of us look bad.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Then just make more movies, sell more merchandise. Make them love you.¡± I looked at her, jabbing a finger into her shoulder. ¡°That way, I keep saving lives¡ª¡±


    ¡°And who did you actually save tonight?¡± she asked. ¡°Nobody. You killed nine criminals, let high-class supervillains get away with millions worth of gold, and you just don¡¯t care.¡±


    I picked the dried blood from my nails. ¡°I¡¯ll search for ¡®em tomorrow. It¡¯s no biggie.¡±


    ¡°And what about the Normals whose lives you affected?¡± she said softly. ¡°Some of them are crippled, Rylee. They won¡¯t be able to walk ever again. Those are mums and dads¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªand would you stop trying to guilt trip me?¡± I said. ¡°They can hire a healer.¡±


    ¡°With the money they spent paying for Damage Control¡¯s services?¡± she asked. ¡°Or for their totaled cars, which probably weren¡¯t covered for superhuman insurance because it¡¯s also expensive? My point is that you changed lives tonight. Forever. And you should be out there helping them in any way you can, but instead here you are complaining that you¡¯re hungry.¡±


    I glared at her. ¡°They all lived. They should be grateful for that alone, Em, because if I hadn¡¯t been there, then either Witchling or Ace would have killed them, and that¡¯s a lot worse than being crippled the last time I checked. So stuff it, supermodel, because the humans are just fine.¡±


    She blinked as if slapped. ¡°Humans?¡± she repeated. ¡°That¡¯s where you are now?¡±


    I sighed, angered, then stood up. ¡°Humans, people, whatever. You get what I¡¯m saying.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter with you?¡± Emelia said. ¡°You weren¡¯t this hard headed last week.¡±


    ¡°Maybe because I didn¡¯t have you whining in my ear about the crippled mommies and daddies who won¡¯t ever get to play fucking catch with their kids again,¡± I snapped. My voice carried through the night, splintering the barbershop window. Emelia¡¯s brow lowered, and I sighed out my frustration, glancing down an alley that reeked of garbage. ¡°I¡¯m just¡­ It¡¯s whatever.¡±


    She stood, hair falling over her shoulders in the breeze. ¡°Whatever the hell¡¯s going through your head has to get out. And soon. You¡¯re a fucking superhero. You¡¯re Olympia. Act like it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re one to talk,¡± I muttered. ¡°Which villain are you fighting this season again?¡±


    Emelia¡¯s smile was flat as she said, ¡°I hope you enjoy sleeping in an alley next month.¡±


    Shit. I grabbed her wrist before she could vanish. ¡°Jeez, alright. I¡¯ll¡­ talk, or whatever,¡± I said through my teeth. ¡°I just feel¡­ bored. Frustrated.¡± I let go of her hand, running fingers through my hair as I tried to force the words out of my mouth. This was the same damned thing that got me kicked out of Ronnie¡¯s house¡ªemotion. Human emotion. Fuck them for forcing me to talk about how I felt all the time. ¡°The Olympians had the Nocturne. My¡­ Zeus battled against Titan. And all I¡¯ve got are these forty, fifty year old villains who should¡¯ve retired years ago.¡±


    Em folded her arms, looking at me expectantly. ¡°You¡¯re bored? All because you don¡¯t have a supervillain who can kill hundreds of thousands of people in the blink of an eye to fight?¡±


    ¡°I mean¡­ kinda?¡± I said, shrugging. ¡°It feels like I¡¯m playing with little plastic dolls.¡±


    She slapped me, a blur of electrified motion. I didn¡¯t feel it, I never did, but the intent was there in her eyes. ¡°Get your head out of your ass and be a hero because it¡¯s the right thing to do.¡±


    That won¡¯t make me feel any more sympathetic to the humans who get caught in the crossfire, I thought. If they got injured by a C-grade, then that was just plain old embarrassing.


    But if I had someone as powerful as dad had, someone like Titan who killed the unkillable, then the Normals, the humans, all of them would realize how much they needed me. To show them just how much the world needed superheroes who weren¡¯t either handcuffed to magazines and movie screens, or to government mandates that told them when to bark or when to sit and stay.


    When dad died, so did the Golden Age of Capes, and with them went the supervillains who got caught in the city-destroying crossfire that was the aftershock of most of the Olympians getting killed by Titan, too. You¡¯d think crime would spike afterward, but apparently, nobody hits harder than a race of squishy ape-like creatures that are backed into a corner. It took the remaining Capes, entire armies, and SDU just two years to either retire the old stock of supervillains running around, or lock them up in Olympus Pen. S-Grade or otherwise, they would never see the light of day again, judging by how much the anti-supers groups made sure of it around the globe.


    But without my own villain, though, I was a superhero in a grand circus that ended a decade ago. The Normals who got hurt would make the news then be forgotten. Tarmac would be repaved and insurance companies would cover the bills they could. The old days were gone, dead, and I was a remnant clinging to it. The last cheer at a party nobody else wanted to attend anymore.


    I sighed, sitting back down on the bench, elbows on my thighs. ¡°Em,¡± I muttered. ¡°All that¡¯s left are bank robbers and purse snatchers. A Normal can deal with those. I¡¯m a superhero. I¡¯m supposed to deal with S-Grades and the kaiju that dad used to fight. They¡¯re all supposed to look at me and know they¡¯re safe, instead of wanting me to deal with every freaking cat burglar.¡±


    And you¡¯d be surprised how many of my own forums I scoured that tried to get me to investigate some lower east end break-in. Nothing about major villainy, just cats in stupid trees.


    She waved her hand, indicating the flickering lamp posts, bags of trash, splintered concrete and pot-hole-riddled rodes. ¡°Look at this place, Ry. If you¡¯re as great as you seemingly think, then Lower Olympus wouldn¡¯t have a rising crime rate. And I¡¯m not gonna join you in your pity party¡ªyou could be making as much as I do, probably more because of who you are, but you chose to be a superhero in a time where none exist. So stop bitching and be one already.¡±


    I looked at her, glaring. ¡°You¡¯re not so fun to talk to, y¡¯know that?¡±


    ¡°Seems like we¡¯re on the same page, Blondie,¡± she said. ¡°Now go help the little guys.¡±


    Groaning and massaging my temples, I said, ¡°Really? The little guys? C¡¯mon, Em.¡±


    Emelia cocked her head, waiting. I¡¯d known her since freshman year in high school, and we¡¯d graduated together last month, so I knew exactly what she wanted me to do right about now.


    And it took all my strength not to blast off into the sky to escape having to do it. That, and there was a possibility she wouldn¡¯t send me money to pay rent this week if I didn¡¯t get going.


    ¡°I¡¯ll¡­¡± I sighed, muttering under my breath. ¡°I¡¯ll suit up and save someone I guess.¡±


    ¡°Who, exactly?¡± she said. ¡°Because if I hear you vomiting that ¡®human¡¯ BS again¡­¡±


    ¡°You do realize I could put you through the concrete faster than you can blink, right?¡± I asked, half-joking. ¡°Only if that means getting you off my back for at least a few days.¡±


    Em cocked an eyebrow, electricity glinting in her dark hair. ¡°If you were that quick, then you would have noticed the cup of coffee I put in your bag that¡¯s probably been ruining your suit.¡±


    I swore and tore open my backpack, and sure enough, the cold black liquid was soaking into my gear and the rest of my spare clothes. A damp patch spread through the bag¡¯s cloth, leaving a wet circle on the bench. ¡°Fuck, Em!¡± I said. ¡°I got you loud and clear from your speech.¡±


    Emelia squeezed my shoulder as she left. ¡°It was meant to fill you up during the night shift, but I guess being pissy all the time finally bit you in the ass. See you tomorrow, Blondie.¡±


    And, as if on cue, a woman¡¯s scream pierced the night as Emelia disappeared. I swore as I took the crumpled coffee cup out of my bag, a note scrawled on the side in her handwriting.


    Careful, it¡¯s hot! Now go out there and be the best superhero ever for me, Blondie :)


    I cursed and crumpled the cup, earning a splash of cold coffee on my tights. I¡¯d get her back one day, but for now, the woman was shrieking for help, and it turned out I had to save her.


    Crime never slept in New Olympus. Well, not until you put a fist-sized hole through it.

 Issue #3: Your Friendly Neighbourhood Purse Snatcher

    I sometimes wondered how the humans survived for so long without getting themselves killed. The mayor had made sure to warn anyone living in Lower Olympus about a curfew, something that was supposed to make sure less people were outside at the dead of night, which turned out to decrease the number of bodies the police had to scrape off the sidewalk in the morning. I couldn¡¯t vouch for every superhuman, some of us were down right vile, but the humans weren¡¯t doing themselves any favors by ignoring the curfew and meandering around in the dark by themselves.


    A part of me didn¡¯t even want to bother checking out why some woman was screaming this late at night. My stomach was in knots and I stank of coffee, blood, and sweat. What I needed was a shower, sugar-filled donuts, and some time away from all these annoying little animals.


    But I was already crouched atop a three story building, the lower half of my face covered by a crimson ski mask I used way back in my freshman superhero year. I carried it around for times like this, when dressing up as Olympia was out of the question for crimes so damned insignificant. Stopping a thief, a murderer, or saving kittens from trees wouldn¡¯t make headlines, so why bother?


    And as if the universe could read my thoughts, I spotted the screaming woman, and the guy wearing a black balaclava cutting the air between them with a knife as he tried to snatch her purse.


    You must think you¡¯re so damn funny, fate, I thought, watching them battle. Screw you.


    Now I¡¯d have to throw out this pair of sneakers, tights, and crop top because Lord knows how difficult it was to get blood and guts and whatever else was stuffed inside of humans out.


    Standing, I took a deep breath to wean out my annoyance, then jumped.


    I landed hard on the concrete behind the purse snatcher, frightening them both to death. Underneath the lilting glow of the lamp post, the woman¡¯s curly afro and dark skin glistened with sweat. The thief was no better, seemingly losing the battle despite the¡­ kitchen knife in his hand?


    ¡°Gods, you¡¯re pathetic,¡± I said, grabbing him by the back of the neck. He yelped, then gasped and struggled as I yanked him off the woman. Now that I was closer, she didn¡¯t look that much older than me, with her large round eyes hidden behind circular glasses. ¡°There¡¯s a curfew, you know, and you¡¯re meant to be at home so you don¡¯t get mugged by half-assed criminals.¡±


    He squirmed in my grip, so I grabbed his wrist and twisted it behind his back. Down on his knees in front of me, I could feel the strain of his bones underneath my fingers. Like twigs, these people. It¡¯s a wonder none of them walked around wearing inflatable bubbles all year round.


    She smiled, dabbing the sweat off her face with an ironed handkerchief. She wore black leather gloves and black shoes polished enough times to reflect the faint golden glow in my eyes.


    ¡°Thank you so much,¡± she said. ¡°I was expecting someone else. Not¡­ you.¡±


    ¡°Just someone trying to do the right thing,¡± I said, adding, ¡°Or whatever,¡± quietly.


    She got closer, exactly one step. Her heel snapped against the crack riddled concrete. ¡°I¡¯m a big fan of what you do, you know. I fell in love with vigilantes just like you when I was young.¡±


    Great, an enthusiast. ¡°Wonderful. Now, if you could leave so I can dispose of this thing¡ª¡±


    ¡°Garrett,¡± he wheezed before groaning in pain as I shoved him to the ground. ¡°Name¡¯s¡ª¡±


    I turned him over in one fluid motion, clamping my hand over his mouth. I didn¡¯t care, and nor would I even let him try to make me feel guilty for painting a yet to be chosen alley with his body. The muscles underneath his black sweater were taught, his heartbeat rapid in my ears. If I concentrated, I¡¯m sure I could smell the pheromones of fear that were dampening his collar.


    ¡°Look,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯d get out of here if I were you. Don¡¯t break the curfew next time.¡±


    As I lifted the man onto my shoulder, turning to leave, she hurried around me, her hand outstretched and an excitable glint in her large brown eyes. ¡°Ava,¡± she said. ¡°Nice to meet you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve kinda got my hands full with the guy who just tried to stab you for your purse.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you can put him down. Garrett couldn¡¯t harm a house fly,¡± she explained smoothly, nudging up her glasses. ¡°But he does have a terrible fear of heights, so won¡¯t you stay here?¡±


    My eyebrows creased in confusion. The thief wasn¡¯t struggling in my grasp, a lot like his breed of criminal usually did right about now until they realized they were powerless. He was just on my shoulder, a yawn escaping his mouth that he tried to hide behind the back of the knife.


    I glared at her, taking a step forward. ¡°If you¡¯re playing some kind of game¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a superhero,¡± she said plainly. ¡°Threats against civilians aren¡¯t your thing.¡±


    Garrett snickered. ¡°She¡¯s got you there.¡± I pressed my fingers deeper into his side, far enough to feel at least one rib dislocate. Not enough to kill him, but enough to make him shut up.


    Well, in an ideal world he would have. Instead he just started writhing around in pain.


    ¡°You either tell me what you¡¯re planning, or I show you what Garrett ate for dinner.¡±


    Ava smiled, sharp as the knife that clattered to the concrete. ¡°You¡¯re as callous as they say.¡±


    I cocked an eyebrow and put a hand on my hip. ¡°Do I know you or something?¡±


    ¡°Of course you wouldn¡¯t,¡± she said, lowering her voice. ¡°But I do, Olympia.¡± I froze, a coldness seeping into my veins. Her smile grew as she whispered, ¡°Or would Rylee be better?¡±


    A silent minute passed. My heart raced, my mouth dried. I stared at Ava as she smiled.


    Then we were thousands of feet in the air above Lower Olympus, her collar in my hand and her tie loosening in the howling winds. She gasped, blinking fast as tears welled in her eyes¡ªnot in fear, but in the shot of adrenaline Normals got seconds before they always died. The air was cold here, and I would have gotten much higher, maybe right up around the clouds, but they passed out after a while, and once you skimmed space, they froze up and needed oxygen.


    And I needed her to talk, and talk quickly. Nobody had ever found out who I was. Well, only one person had, but Veronica was different. Ava, on the other hand, was a nobody to me.


    If she didn¡¯t have a good explanation, then she¡¯d just be another smear on the concrete.


    ¡°Three seconds,¡± I growled, holding her at arm¡¯s length. ¡°Three seconds to tell me how you found out who I am before you learn the hard way that Normals can¡¯t fly all too well.¡±


    Her fingers tried to find purchase on my wrist. She tried to speak, then choked on her tongue as she glanced toward the labyrinth-like streets far, far beneath her kicking feet.


    ¡°One,¡± I counted, releasing a single finger. She yelped, hands clawing at my arm.


    ¡°Okay! Okay.¡± She swallowed, then swallowed harder. ¡°I¡¯ve been stalking you.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit,¡± I snapped. ¡°I would have noticed you a lot earlier if you had been.¡±


    Another finger. A dip through the air. She panicked and swore, something strange to the tune of yelling,¡°Raspberries!¡± I paid it no attention. I wouldn¡¯t let her fall directly downward.


    The police would be able to tell if I killed someone, maybe through some civilian that might have been hiding in the apartments that watched me shoot into the sky with a girl in my hands. Besides, I was the only superhuman who could fly as fast and as high without passing out instantly, so letting her go right now was a no. I¡¯d throw Ava into the ocean then; so hard that she¡¯d be a brief burst of color before the waves washed her away and the fish ate what¡¯s left.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Otherwise, I would have just ran straight through her, but Em would be on me in minutes, then the news headlines would roll back around, then the debates on whether Olympia should be arrested and sent to Olympus Pen would rise back up again. Gods, the cycle got annoying.


    And so far, Ava was just a civilian. I didn¡¯t kill their kind. Not until I had a reason.


    ¡°Not me!¡± she yelled over the wind and the panic. ¡°Someone who works for me.¡±


    ¡°Name. Address. I¡¯ll pay them a visit so you two can stick together through death.¡±


    She shook her head. I blinked, confused. She was refusing? ¡°If you kill me, if you let me fall, then everyone on the internet gets your address, name, guardian name, and everything else.¡±


    The smile on her face was back in a flash, but not quite as sharp. Her heartbeat was steadying, and so was her breathing. She wasn¡¯t frightened anymore¡ªshe knew she had me.


    I yanked her close, so close I could count the reddening veins in her eyes if I wanted. ¡°And what if I pulled you apart, finger by finger, toe by toe, until you told me everything I wanted?¡±


    Ava shook her head, then said, ¡°A single hair out of place and, excuse my language, you¡¯d be toast, Rylee. So if you could just put me down gently, we could talk this through peacefully.¡±


    I laughed dryly. ¡°What, you think I¡¯m stupid? You¡¯d have your little friend shadowing you down there, maybe to try and get you out of a bad situation. We¡¯ll talk, but we¡¯ll stay here.¡±


    She shrugged, or at least tried to in such a position. ¡°Cunning. Fair enough.¡±


    ¡°First,¡± I said. ¡°You set that whole charade up with your little purse snatching friend?¡±


    ¡°Yes. He¡¯s an actor, and not a very convincing one, but villainy isn¡¯t really his thing.¡±


    She¡¯s lucky I didn¡¯t just slam into him and turn Garrett into a crimson puddle.


    ¡°And he¡¯s your friend? The one who''s apparently been stalking me?¡± I asked, disgusted with myself at even the thought of having a Normal get the better of me. ¡°Who else knows?¡±


    Ava laughed, a sound the wind snatched away in seconds. She cleared her throat when I glared at her, my eyes reflecting in her glasses. ¡°Like I said, Garrett¡¯s a nice guy, but he¡¯s just an actor. I¡¯ve got someone else following you, someone you wouldn¡¯t think twice about. And as for who else knows, well¡­¡± She shrugged again. ¡°The whole world will if you hold me any looser.¡±


    ¡°Listen up,¡± I snarled. ¡°If you don¡¯t answer my fucking questions properly, I¡¯ll¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªdo what exactly?¡± she asked. ¡°Kill me? Please, go ahead. We both know that my death would send the hounds after the hare. Look at you¡ªyou¡¯re, what, eighteen? No older than I am. I always thought you were older, possibly mid-twenties, judging by how large you looked in the pictures and videos that circulate. But at the end of the day, killing me would ruin your life, and I¡¯m not too sure that Zeus¡¯ daughter has it in her to wipe out the entire world like Titan tried to.¡± She cocked her head. ¡°Still so young and driven, but insecure of what you know you really are.¡±


    My lips curled, disgusted, as if I¡¯d eaten something vile. ¡°Insecure?¡± I echoed. ¡°I¡¯m fucking Olympia. My father was the most powerful man this planet has ever¡ªor will ever¡ªfucking see.¡±


    ¡°And yet he died,¡± she mused. ¡°I¡¯ve been to his grave, seen his statue, and paid my dues.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯ll know that I¡¯m not like you,¡± I spat out. ¡°I¡¯m more than a human could ever hope of being in their lifetime, so why the hell would I be insecure around the likes of your species?¡±


    She raised an eyebrow, curious at what I¡¯d said. I could see the cogs working deep in her head, whirring so loudly I briefly wondered what I¡¯d find in there if I cracked open her skull.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s simple,¡± Ava continued. ¡°You¡¯re just a teenager. You¡¯re meant to be insecure.¡±


    I looked at her dead in the eyes, ice flooding my veins. ¡°You¡¯re getting dangerously close to finding out how expensive life support can be if you keep fucking with my patience, Ava.¡±


    ¡°What I mean is that you¡¯ve got nothing to show for who you actually are,¡± she explained. ¡°Sure, you¡¯re the Olympia, the world¡¯s last superhero, the Golden Gal, Fox News calls you, but you¡¯ve done nothing except be a pain to the public. How many millions worth of damage have you racked up in just five years of superhero work? How many lives have you inadvertently taken through your actions? You don¡¯t know, I doubt, and why should you? You¡¯re Zeus¡¯ daughter.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re saying a whole fucking lot without getting to a point,¡± I said. Unless¡­ Glancing below me, squinting my eyes, I saw Garrett still on the pavement being tended to by someone with ash-blonde hair cut short to their shoulders. Her shadow? The person who had been stalking me?


    Was she wasting time, trying to get her shadow to find her up here? I tensed, readying myself. You never knew what to expect from superhumans. Some were powerful enough to warp reality, people like Witchling and everyone else from the House of One, and for all I knew, Ava could be one of them, too. One of the very few superhumans I couldn¡¯t sense the powers of.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got nothing to show for being a superhero, and you¡¯re afraid you¡¯ll never quite be like your father.¡± I snapped back to attention, staring daggers at her. I bawled my fist, crumbling her shirt. ¡°The mighty Zeus¡¯ only daughter, and nothing but a blight on his glamorous legacy.¡±


    A lump formed in my throat, quickly swallowed. ¡°Insulting me won¡¯t help you.¡±


    Her smile narrowed until her lips were thinly pressed lines. ¡°You and I are more alike than you can think. Both of our fathers were great men, but we¡¯ve got nothing to show for it.¡±


    I pulled her that bit closer, looking down toward the pavement at the same time; both Garrett and the silver-haired figure had disappeared. ¡°And who the hell¡¯s your father?¡±


    ¡°Lucian,¡± Ava said plainly. I almost choked on the lump in my throat. ¡°Or Lucifer, if you want to abide by the supervillain report the Olympiad made public a decade or so ago.¡±


    My breaths hitched at the base of my throat. Hot and raw, burning my mouth dry as I stared at her. A bubble of excitement formed in my gut, but with it came an odd feeling. A shift in my stomach, one that filled my mouth with bitter saliva. An S-Grade supervillain, Lucifer had taken over Lower Olympus, almost ripping it free from the greater city in his mad pursuit for dictatorial autonomy. He was a former member of the Nocturne, arms dealer, kingpin, bottom of the barrel villain scum, a godsdamned serial killing superhuman, and the one villain dad didn¡¯t put away.


    He was the boogeyman to young Supers years ago, the shadow that always watched.


    I didn¡¯t find out why dad never killed him. He was a god in comparison to these creatures, far more powerful than I would ever be, and yet he let Lucian keep operating in Lower Olympus.


    Hell, the Olympians never even bothered trying to take him down when they dealt with the Nocturne. Of all the villains they battled, Lucian was always the one who managed to escape.


    The public chastised them. The world¡¯s governments brought them to trial, demanding an answer to why and how they could allow a supervillain to take over almost half a state. And I had sat there in front of the tv, not quite understanding how my own father, standing quite literally head and shoulders above the might of the full Olympian team, would stay silent against Lucifer.


    Call me an idiot, but that was my signal to stop fighting purse snatchers.


    Being a fourteen-year old kid with new superpowers, desperate to scratch the superhero itch, to quell the cravings, I thought about taking him down myself. He¡¯ll notice me then, I had thought, because killing an S-Grade would definitely make dad care about his damned daughter.


    So I put on the scarlet ski mask, snuck out at midnight, and flew into the darkness.


    I had learnt two things that night: never underestimate any S-Grade, and never ever dare assume that just because someone shared your blood, would they ever have your back in a fight.


    I hadn¡¯t died, of course, but had been somewhat born again. Christened to this world that I lived in now, and made to understand not to give anyone an inch. There was an irony lost to me there, one buried underneath the corpses he left me to dig my way out of when he was done with me. Lucian showed me Hell, and not the kind humans speak about in their churches, but the kind that grabs onto your arms and legs, tries to rip you apart and drown you in a mound of malformed flesh. I never got my dues back. Never got my revenge. I strayed from Lower Olympus, making sure not to bother with his gangsters or superhumans or him personally. No, I wasn¡¯t afraid of him.


    I just never got another chance to kill him, and the Olympians made it clear not to try again.


    You¡¯re too weak to even think of being a hero, dad had said, and of the dozen times he bothered coming to talk to me, his little half human daughter, those were the words that stung the most. Laying there on a mattress damp with sweat and blood that had seeped through bandages, he hadn¡¯t looked worried or phased, but angry. Disappointed that I was even crying under his watch.


    But I understood why he had. You were the greatest hero the planet had ever seen, and there your daughter was, a crippled bloodied mess. Frankly, I would have been disappointed, too.


    It served me right thinking I was strong enough to even think of being a hero back then.


    Lucian had kept me awake, and that smile had burned itself into my childhood nightmares. I missed classes, got detention because I just couldn¡¯t concentrate in school. How could I when a man who nearly ki¡­ I shook my head, jamming the thoughts deeper into the folds of my brain.


    I had a sore spot even thinking about Lucian. His crime family had dissipated in the past few years for whatever reason, maybe because the government wasn¡¯t playing ball with him anymore, and in their absence came more crime, and more two-bit gangsters trying to gain new territorial ground. More anti-supers groups. More protests. Chaos and filth and fucking death.


    And now his daughter was in my hand, dangling above the part of the city he ruined.


    I clenched my free hand into a fist, golden arcs of electricity sparking from my skin. Ava¡¯s eyes widened, but she didn¡¯t have the time to react as I let go of her shirt collar, letting her fall.

 Issue #4: The Time I Made A Deal With The Devils Daughter

    When I was a little kid, the only way I could get close to my dad was through comic books. I remembered running home in a cloud of dust and sweat, quite literally screeching to a halt outside of Ronnie¡¯s house because my sneakers were nothing but smoking, squelching rubber. Free from the tedium of middle school, with a comic in my hand, I felt invincible. Unbound. I was the weird little girl next door, the one with a room full of superhero posters, and bed sheets plastered with tiny cartoon Olympians chasing goofy looking Nocturne members until I was in high school.


    Veronica wouldn¡¯t be home till late, so I¡¯d indulge in my dirty little spree of climbing onto the roof and reading until my eyes hurt. Reading until I could float around inside my bedroom and reenact every panel and every scene and every piece of dialogue I got my grubby hands on. I was the secret member of the Olympians, the one who would one day lead them against the villains.


    In my head all those years ago, I was the greatest superhero the universe had ever seen.


    And then my father died fighting Titan, the last Olympian to join the team. I watched from the streets like everyone else had, a kid a little too short to see over the heads of people standing in front of screens behind storefront glass. The girl who started crying when the world went quiet.


    I had been powerless, then, feeling like I¡¯d betrayed him by not being by his side. But what would I have fucking helped with? I had thought that night. You can¡¯t even fly for five minutes.


    Zeus¡¯ daughter. The heir to the Olympians. And a worthless, weak, crying little girl. I tried to fly, to build my strength, but stopping thugs and gangbangers was like riding a bike with stabilizers when you¡¯re an adult. How could I take them seriously when dad¡¯s shadow loomed over me, this cold, constant presence that whispered in the back of my head, That¡¯s all you are?


    Ever since then, I had a policy: hit first without pause, no matter what I could do. And maybe, if dad was watching from wherever he was, he¡¯d see I was different. Not the same. It was true, as I watched Ava slip from my grasp, that my stomach was a tight, burning knot, and my head was a pounding mess. I needed to eat, to sustain myself before I fell through the air just like her.


    But weak or not, I wasn¡¯t going to let the daughter of a villain goad me into doing whatever it was she wanted just because she knew who I was. I couldn¡¯t kill Lucifer four years ago, and I stopped myself from letting that kind of fear take over my body, but I could kill her.


    No, I¡¯d pick her apart and sprinkle whatever was left on his fucking doorstep.


    Ava screamed as she fell, the sound ripe and loud in my ears. I watched as she windmilled through the air, her tie loose and her black trenchcoat flapping against her wildly turning body.


    Warmth built in my gut, spreading throughout my body as more tiny arcs of electricity sparked and spat around my hands. The air warped around me, heating just like my body.


    Then I shot toward her, a bullet slicing through the wind. I was on her in seconds. Past her in just more than that. I spun, grabbed her face before she slammed into the tarmac, then threw her higher into the air and across several blocks. Through rickety wooden support structures and flimsy windows she went, then into the open air. Appearing in the sky before she got there, I smashed my fist into her gut, feeling her stomach rupture as I planted my knuckles into her belly. She gasped. Blood burst from her mouth. Before she could think, I straightened my fingers, grabbed her neck, held her at arm¡¯s length, and cut through her torso in one swooping slice across her midsection.


    Her legs fell away, twigs snapping as they fell dozens of feet through the air and onto an abandoned play area slated for demolition. Her guts were next, sloppy and wet, scarlet and gray and blue masses that oozed out of her body and splattered down the slide, slipping into a steaming heap at the bottom. I took a moment to look into her empty eyes. At the spattering of blood that dotted her large circular glasses. I flicked them off and forced my thumbs into her skull until they popped and poured out past my fingers. Splitting her skull came easily, like cracking a walnut.


    Then came the silence that beat past my racing heart, a drum in the quiet night.


    I let her body fall to the weed-strewn gravel of the play area, cracking more bones. Floating to the ground, I staggered on impact, leaning against the slides as my vision flickered. I held the side of my head, trying fruitlessly to stop my heart from punching a hole right through my temples.


    Used a lot of energy doing that. A lot more than I should have. Still, I smiled, wiping the blood off my face with the back of my even bloodier hand. She wanted to keep her secrets? Play coy with what she knew about me and what she really wanted? Fine, I made her spill her guts.


    The joke was lost on me, though, as I doubled up in pain and vomited.


    Blood. My saliva and half-digested lunch tasted like hot liquid iron on my tongue.


    I spat, wiped my mouth. ¡°Home,¡± I told myself. ¡°Go home and eat before someone calls the SDU for superhuman activity.¡± I stood, then staggered, taking a dozen steps before I buckled.


    I¡¯d deal with the fallout right afterward. Her shadow couldn¡¯t be far; they¡¯d be next.


    Then I heard the noise of flesh squelching against itself, like wet leather being beaten together. I swore, turning my head to watch as her upper body jerked, twisted, and her skull snapped back into place, her guts crawled back inside her chest, and her legs shoved themselves back against her dangling spinal column. I watched, horrified, interested, as Ava sat up, groaning as she held her head as if she¡¯d just whacked it against the wall waking up from a nightmare.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± I whispered, holding my stomach as I stood. ¡°What are you?¡±


    ¡°A little put off that you ruined my favorite shirt. Blood doesn¡¯t wash out easily.¡±


    I had to buy myself some time. Give my body several minutes to stop aching so badly. ¡°I can¡¯t sense your powers,¡± I said around a surge of nausea. ¡°You¡¯re not human. A kaiju?¡±


    Ava stood, holding her stomach. I could hear her intestines finding their place behind her torn open shirt, and could see them squirming underneath her skin. She waved her hand through the air as she said, ¡°You¡¯ve got your secrets, and I¡¯ve got mine. There¡¯s no gain in telling you everything that I am, just like how you don¡¯t explain how you¡¯ve got more than one power.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes, gritting my teeth to concentrate on her. ¡°Like I said a lot earlier, I¡¯m not like you people, and you¡¯ve got no right to any kind of answer to what I really am.¡±


    Ava nodded, then winced as she took a step forward. ¡°See? Not so different.¡±


    No, not a kaiju. I couldn¡¯t smell that familiar animalistic stench that came from that skin crawling blend of human body parts and animal hide. She was something else. Just like her father.


    ¡°Now, where was I before you murdered me?¡± Ava said, then snapped her fingers. ¡°Ah, I was getting to my main point. Our fathers weren¡¯t enemies, you know. In fact, they were allies.¡±


    I spat at her feet. ¡°You really think Zeus of all people would shake a supervillain''s hand?¡±


    She nodded, picking up her splintered glasses. ¡°Yes, quite a few times actually.¡± Ava paused, then looked at me curiously. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ surprised you didn¡¯t know that. You¡¯d think¡ª¡±


    ¡°Of course I freaking knew that,¡± I said quickly, cutting her off. ¡°But a couple of years have passed since I last spoke to my old man, so a few things slipped through the cracks.¡±


    She¡¯s lying, I told myself. Dad would never have made a deal with a fucking villain.


    And not the one who almost killed me and had my body sent back to the Olympiad, a heap of rags and bloodied skin so scarred and torn they told me I looked like the devil¡¯s roadkill.


    ¡°Mmm,¡± Ava hummed thoughtfully, folding the glasses and stuffing them into her pocket. ¡°Interesting. Then I suppose you also understand that, without an alliance between us, Lower Olympus will continue to decompose to an even worse state than what it currently is, yes?¡±


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    I straightened, my stomach settling. I flexed my fingers, testing out just how much juice I had left in the tank before I passed out. ¡°Yeah, well, I¡¯m not anything like my dad. Sorry.¡±


    ¡°But you could be,¡± she said. ¡°Or possibly so, so much more than what he was.¡± Ava waved her hand at her torso, at the torn shirt and her blood smattered over the plastic slide. ¡°All of this happened within a tenth of a second to me. I fell through the air, then I was here, sitting up, quite literally with the worst stomach ache I¡¯ve had in months. What you¡¯re capable of is more than what anyone on earth could ever hope to achieve.¡± Her voice was growing ecstatic, her eyes electric. I clenched my quaking hands, forcing them to stop. ¡°You¡¯re the second most powerful superhuman in existence right now, and all of that without any training or guidance whatsoever.¡±


    ¡°Second?¡± I said, spitting a part of her skin that had gotten into my mouth¡ªit had begun wriggling around my teeth, like an anxiety riddled worm. ¡°I am the most powerful. Period.¡±


    Ava held up her finger, walking toward me. ¡°And you¡¯re right. You¡¯re number one and two on the planet, but you can only really be number one with training. S-Grade facilities that would push you to your absolute limits and more. Nutritionists. Physical therapists. Capes who¡¯ve got more experience than you who¡¯ll be there to guide you, teach you how to be more powerful.¡±


    What was she playing at? I glanced around us, at the darkness she didn¡¯t seem to mind. Was her shadow with us, waiting for her signal? She said she needed my help, but at the end of the day, she was Lucian¡¯s daughter, who could have easily sent her here to catch me and drag me to him. I wasn¡¯t taking that chance. Not again, and not in the weakened state I was in right now.


    ¡°Stop right there,¡± I commanded. She halted several steps away. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    Ava smiled, large and wide. ¡°For you to realize your potential. For both of us to do so.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m supposed to do that by, what, coming to your place like a fuckin¡¯ idiot?¡±


    ¡°I understand why you¡¯d be apprehensive, but no.¡± Her eyes glinted with something enticing, something that somewhat caught my attention. ¡°You want to be like your father; as powerful and as beloved, as renowned and as feared. But that can only happen in one way.¡±


    It clicked in my mind, the coin dropping into the slot. ¡°By joining the Olympiad,¡± I said what, presumably, she was going to say next. ¡°I thought you were a villain. But you want me to enroll in the largest Cape training program on the planet to become even better at what I do?¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s only fair, isn¡¯t it?¡± she said. ¡°But if you could join it, you would have already.¡±


    I tensed my jaw. How much did she know about me? ¡°I¡¯ve been busy lately.¡±


    ¡°With your Olympia comic, I know. The drafts were rough and the violence gratuitous, but comics have never really been my cup of tea,¡± she said, waving it away. ¡°You haven¡¯t signed up because you don¡¯t have the money to do so, right? You¡¯re broke. After all, that¡¯s what the comic is for, to maybe scrape enough together to apply next month? Am I in the ballpark, Rylee?¡±


    I said nothing, choosing to bite my tongue. She knew everything. At least, I hoped not everything. How long had she been watching me for? Did she know about Veronica?


    Does she know everything about dad? I thought, skeptical. Fearful. About what he was?


    Ava nodded, smiling. ¡°Of course I am. And here¡¯s where we come to an agreement: I need your help in establishing order in Lower Olympus, and I¡¯ll pay for you to become the best superhero of our generation. Or, possibly, the best superhero the world has ever seen.¡±


    I glared at her, hovering again. ¡°You think I¡¯d help you get more ground again?¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re smart enough to understand that the balance of power in Lower Olympus has shifted away from my family,¡± she said plainly, taking a step forward. ¡°Crime is at an all time high. There are more drugs on the streets. More murderers and thugs. I mean, a curfew was put into action in only this part of the city because of how abysmal it¡¯s all become. Our city is rotting. Our birthright is falling apart day-by-day, and establishing control would lower the crime rate drastically. It would pull investors back into this half of the city, lower the violence, and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Give your family back all the power they let slip through the cracks,¡± I said flatly.


    ¡°Well, of course, I¡¯ve got to benefit somehow, but I¡¯m worried about this city more than my reputation,¡± Ava said. Her voice was¡­ desperate, hinged on pleading. She¡¯d been cordial, straight shooting. Talking to me in a way nobody had in a long time. But now she wanted me to help her take control over half the city again, and if I helped her, then¡­ ¡°What¡¯s meant to be ours has fallen away from us. Our fathers built this state to what it is, and now their children have left it to ruin. But history can be rewritten. Right now, tonight, here in this playground. You can clean the streets, do what your father couldn¡¯t, and join the Olympiad, climb the world rankings. Be a hero.¡±


    She panted, sweat glistening on her forehead. I watched as she spread her arms, her heart thumping against her chest, half of her body still drenched in her own wet blood.


    A hero, she had said. Not a vigilante, but a licensed operator. It¡¯s true that superheroes were no more, the costumes and the smiles, the cryptic hideouts and the dynamic teams all over the globe were things of the past. Capes were what replaced them¡ªgovernment agents, dressed in black and white, with badges in their pockets and a right to act with lethal force if necessary whenever the leash around their necks was let go of and they could descend onto any villain or terrorist or cartel that reared its ugly head. You never saw them until it was your time to go.


    The Olympiad wasn¡¯t what it used to be, but¡­ she was right. How much longer could I keep going independently? I swore I¡¯d never take Emelia¡¯s path, simply because it would be the final nail in the coffin, the blunt knife I plunged into my father¡¯s legacy. But becoming a licensed and paid Cape, one with actual training facilities that could push me instead of just pulling apart some gangster who thought his stupid 50. cal could punch a hole through me. No more tedium. I¡¯d get info on the big villains, where they were hiding, how I could deal with them like dad used to.


    My name would climb the world rankings, meaning I¡¯d get sent out around the globe, not just New Olympus, to clean up criminals and terrorists and whoever else. Zues¡¯ daughter, they¡¯d say. Just like her father. And, maybe years from now, they would put a statue up in my name. Right there in the bay, where his stood watch over the vastness of the city he once protected.


    But I would have to stop being Olympia for almost three years, though. It would feel like ripping myself in half, betraying her¡­ myself, I mean, as I hung up the costume. But I didn¡¯t have to give it up all together. I could sneak out, put my new skillset to the test whenever I wanted.


    Efficient. Deadly. A warning to every supervillain that I was far more powerful now.


    But to accomplish all that, I would first have to establish the Donovan family back into Lower Olympus. Although Lucian was one of the worst supervillains to ever exist, he did make sure rival gangs stopped filling the streets with violence and bloodshed, albeit with force. He never let the Nocturne operate in New Olympus, never let other crime families get a hold on the city, or even bothered playing ball with the Grand Order, a group of S-Grade supervillains that joined together to try to defeat the Olympians. And¡­ and if dad shook his hand, what was stopping me?


    I wanted to be just like him, didn¡¯t I? So maybe this was one way of doing that. I would make up for it later, when I was finally fully trained, something I never thought I¡¯d be able to do.


    Landing in front of her, I said, ¡°Fifty grand for each three training courses every year.¡±


    ¡°Money shouldn¡¯t be a concern if we own half the city,¡± Ava explained.


    I jabbed my finger into her chest. ¡°Confidentiality, too. If anyone finds out that I¡¯m agreeing to this, about who I am, then you know I can wipe you out in a heartbeat.¡±


    Ava shrugged. ¡°Your success is entirely attributed to my own, too. Seeing you become a superhero would fulfill my goals and, rather selfishly, I was always a fan of your father¡¯s. And being the reason his daughter gets her own statue right alongside his would be a sight to see.¡±


    She could be lying to you, half of me reasoned¡ªOlympia. Goading you into crime.


    But so what if she was? Ava might not be able to die, but I could very easily spread her body parts around America in half a day. I knew she felt pain pulling herself back together, and knew that she would probably still be in pain right now, so an eternal purgatory was also an option.


    She was desperate for my help, too. Besides, I reasoned, I¡¯d have a greater arsenal of my own powers if all of this worked out. I could always pull her out of the equation later on.


    Ava stuck out her gloved hand, heartbeat slowing, eyes glimmering. I grudgingly took it.


    ¡°Fantastic!¡± she said, grinning. ¡°First thing¡¯s first, you need to eat. Get your energy. Then you¡¯ll need to change out of your tights and crop top¡ªthey aren¡¯t appropriate for the occasion.¡±


    I folded my arms. ¡°And what¡¯s the occasion, exactly? It better not be a robbery.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll discuss that when you meet everyone else,¡± she said, rolling up her sleeve and plunging her arm into a shadow at her feet. My eyebrows rose, surprised. Shadow manipulation. She must have sensed me tense, or heard as I took a cautious step into the air. ¡°Oh, please, you¡¯ve got plenty of your own secrets, and I¡¯ve got mine as well. We¡¯re natural enemies. It¡¯s only normal to keep secrets from one another.¡± She stood, pulling a duffel bag out of the soupy blackness.


    She handed me the hefty bag, and I zipped it open. Combat boots, heavy black cargo pants, a figure hugging black top; sleeveless, breathable, tensile, and durable, too, as I picked at it. There were also several energy drinks, packs of glucose, water bottles, black hair dye, and a black metal ski mask with straps that could go around my head stuffed inside. I looked at her curiously as I pulled out a sports bra a little too similar to the ones I wore when I was in full Olympia gear.


    Ava shrugged again. ¡°Out of precaution. Comfort comes first when doing crime.¡±


    ¡°How did you get all my sizes right?¡± I asked, checking the shoes and the pants.


    She tapped her nose. ¡°Like I said, I¡¯ve been a big fan of Olympia¡¯s for a very long time.¡±


    I¡¯ll need to deal with her shadow soon enough, I thought. But for now, I flew out of sight to get dressed, a part of me irked by the fact she knew Olympia was out of the question for any of this. The hair dye would remove any possible guesses of who it could be, and without the golden lightning bolt glistening on my chest, not a single soul would know who was behind the mask


    Rylee was making the calls, a decision that could make or break my career. I could almost see Olympia from the watery reflection at my feet, her glaring eyes warped as I splashed through the puddle. I was helping New Olympus, anyway. The longer Lower Olympus spent writhing in its own filth, the greater chance that the residue would spill into the rest of the city. I was doing a good thing here, I reasoned. Sometimes you just had to strongarm peace. Force it to happen. Get knee deep amongst the humans and the worst of them and get your hands dirty for a good cause.


    I picked up the black mask, catching my reflection and my glowing golden eyes. ¡°It¡¯s all to be a superhero,¡± I whispered to myself. ¡°You¡¯re doing the right thing, Ry. Just make him proud.¡±

 Issue #5: Duty Calls

    Before I got my hands dirty fighting supervillains in Lower Olympus, I used to hunt down cat burglars almost every night. Humans were clumsy, with their sweaty bodies and hammering heartbeats, and when you caught them trying to break inside an apartment building, they only ever had two responses: run like hell, or stupidly try and fight me. It¡¯s safe to say that break-ins weren¡¯t that frequent anymore in Lower Olympus because of me, simply because you wouldn¡¯t want to end up as a stain on someone¡¯s carpet and a half-assed article written about you in a tabloid.


    But sneaking into places wasn¡¯t something I was used to myself. I had told Ava that I needed to grab something from my apartment before we left. ¡°We don¡¯t have the time,¡± she argued, but I was about a block away before she realized she was speaking to thin air. Now, I was climbing up the fire escape on the side of the building, its rusty rungs protesting against my weight. I passed empty rooms and shuttered windows. A kid sneaked a glance behind a curtain and swiftly pulled it close when I stuck my tongue out at him. I smiled to myself and slipped into my room, passing the same black cat now perched on the window sill beside my own. It slept, unfazed by the distant echo of sporadic gunfire that always seemed to ring through the Lower Olympus nights.


    I had always wanted a pet when I was a kid, but animals seemingly hated being around me. Ronnie was allergic to every stray dog I sneaked home, and a part of me figured having a black cat encroaching on my apartment wasn¡¯t so terrible. I didn¡¯t believe in human omens, anyway.


    Its ear flicked as I shut the window, one eye opening before it turned away from me.


    As superheroes do, we left the mess of clothes in our backpacks spilled on the floor. I¡¯d deal with it when I came back. For now, I pulled out my Olympia gear, holding it lightly in my hands. I hadn¡¯t put on the black dye and face mask yet, and in all honesty, a part of me didn¡¯t want to. The weight of the suit in my hand almost anchored me down, stopping me from moving at all. The soft glint of the lightning bolt on the chest, the familiar coarseness of the worn-in spandex. It was all so familiar, something I could slip inside of without feeling like it wasn¡¯t me in the mirror.


    Hiding behind a mask just wasn¡¯t my thing anymore. I¡¯d already dealt with that years ago.


    It would be so easy to tip the police and the SDU right about now. Get this nonsense over with and get back to finishing my comic book for the meeting in the morning, which was in¡­ I cursed¡ªit was midnight, and I had about a dozen pages to get through. I had convinced myself I could do this the clean way, maybe use my advance to fund my way into the Olympiad training program. And sure, I could tell them I was Zeus¡¯ daughter, probably get right in and skip the waiting list and the tests, the screenings and having to pay thousands of dollars for this course.


    But then Veronica would be in danger, because the entire world would know who I was. Denny, Bianca, and Em would become alien to me because they would be nothing but entities I had to protect instead of my friends and the people I sorta cared about. As for Ronnie¡­ Well, I doubted she¡¯d be mad about having people knock on her door every day. Before I got my powers, my school bully¡¯s parents made sure to visit every so often to ¡®clear the air,¡¯ and ¡®make sure our daughters are all just friends.¡¯ Safe to say, we got used to the visits, and very, very tired of them.


    All she would be is disappointed that, in her words, I hadn¡¯t grown up yet. That I was still playing this stupid little superhero game I should¡¯ve left behind like every kid my age already had.


    But maybe if I can show her my Cape License, she¡¯ll finally let me come home, I thought bitterly, dropping my backpack on my squeaky bed. I tossed my Olympia gear into my closet, pausing for a moment before tensing my jaw and shutting the wardrobe. Whatever. I¡¯m fine on my own, anyway. She probably wouldn¡¯t even give a shit that I¡¯m helping a supervillain tonight.


    I doubted she would even care about me trying to get into the Olympiad. ¡°You, a superhero?¡± she would say. ¡°Your father was a superhero; what you¡¯re doing is playing pretend.¡±


    Pursing my lips, I shook my head. She wouldn¡¯t say that, I knew, but it was easier to tell myself she would when I had a leash around my neck and a supervillains¡¯ hand on the other end.


    A knock on my door startled me. It wasn¡¯t easy to sneak up on me, but sometimes I got too focused on one thought, one task or action, that my other senses took a back seat for a moment.


    ¡°Ry?¡± Denny said hoarsely. ¡°Mind if I stop by for a second? Won¡¯t be too long, kid.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± I said, opening the door for him. He stood in the hallway, slightly hunched and leaning on a scarred wooden cane. I lived above his coffee shop¡ªa former comic book store that shut down because anti-supers idiots kept smashing up the place every night. You could see the wear of what that kind of stress did to him on his face, around his sunken eyes and tilted smile. ¡°Aren¡¯t you meant to be asleep, gramps? If you¡¯re skipping on your meds again I¡¯ll tell the doc.¡±


    Denny waved a bony hand through the air, then gestured if he could come in. I moved aside, briefly checking the darkness behind him to see if anyone was listening. I¡¯d find Ava¡¯s shadow soon enough. For now, though, I pulled the seat at my desk for him to sit down. Instead, he snorted and picked up a half finished drawing of Olympia I had started before the robbery. For whatever reason, my palms began to sweat as he hummed under his breath, reading through the notes I¡¯d made for each panel, and the character sheets I had pinned up on the wall beside my desk. As someone who used to run to his store every day to buy comics, this was an honor.


    For the uninitiated, Denny Heart was a legend of the superhero game. He was the reason the comic industry blossomed the way it did during the Golden Age. Hell, he was the one who wrote issue number one of Zeus: The Mightiest Olympian. And when I found out he had a place to stay above his coffee shop, it had softened the blow of being homeless for a few weeks at the start of spring break. Deep down, I owed a lot to him, but we were partners more than anything now. Not to brag, but being the only superhero around meant that, even though he acted nonchalant, I still caught him reading the occasional newspaper article about Olympia and her adventures.


    It was a far cry from the days when he used to stand in the face of superheroes and villains alike, pen wedged behind his ear, pad of paper in his hand, and run them down for answers.


    He was old, tired, and I didn¡¯t know where most of his wealth had gone. He refused to tell me why he shuffled around at night, or where most of his comics went or who he sold the rights to. In some ways, he was just as filled with secrets as I was, but he still had an eye for superheroes.


    That¡¯s why I flinched when he said, ¡°Jesus, kid, ain¡¯t you supposed to be good at this?¡±


    I glanced over his shoulder at the one page I¡¯d finished¡ªa page that showed Olympia splitting a criminal in two. ¡°It¡¯s not even finished yet,¡± I said. ¡°I still need to shade it and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Not the art, Bucky,¡± he said. I hated that nickname¡ªyounger me did, too, on account I used to have buck teeth that poked out whenever I smiled. ¡°The part where you inspire people.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°She just saved a family from being robbed. What¡¯s not inspiring about that?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, kid. Maybe the part where she spread him over their dinner table?¡±


    I shrugged, then said, ¡°He broke into their house, and he was dangerous, so she dealt with the threat right there and then. Sure, Olympia could have waited and taken this outside, but¡ª¡±


    Denny put down the piece of paper, shaking his head. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be a ¡®but,¡¯ Rylee. The readers won¡¯t know why she didn¡¯t wait¡ªyou don¡¯t have the page space to talk about it. You use the panels to tell a story they¡¯ll understand, and sending a message in each will add up to a broader picture. What you just did right here? That just shows she¡¯s careless, powerful, and a bit of an ass.¡±


    I folded my arms, a little defensive. ¡°The family was grateful that she saved them.¡±


    He cocked an eyebrow. ¡°What kinda person would be grateful they just saw another man¡¯s guts get spread over his roast turkey? I¡¯d be damned furious, I tell you! And they should, too.¡±


    ¡°Was she meant to let them get robbed first?¡± I asked.


    ¡°She¡¯s a superhero. Her priority is making sure they¡¯re safe, not traumatizing them.¡±


    ¡°There was a threat, and she dealt with that threat,¡± I said. ¡°So what if they¡¯re scared? They¡¯re still alive at the end of the day. Look, that little kid is cheering her on back there.¡±


    He tilted his head at me. ¡°What kinda kid would cheer on a murderer, Bucky?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Dunno. The kind who knows they¡¯re safe now, I guess?¡±


    ¡°Crazier than a beaver in a chair factory,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t even make sense, D,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe you should pack it up for the night.¡±


    He walked toward me, something that took nearly a minute. It was deliberate, a part of me guessed, that he kept me waiting as he neared. Maybe to give me time to cool off for a moment.


    Denny looked up at me, mouth pressed into that smile he gave before giving bad news. ¡°I understand that you want people to love Olympia as much as you do. I know more than anyone how it feels to want the world to know how much these people should mean to them. But there¡¯s a difference, Buck, between showing them why they should love them, and giving them a reason. You made Olympia powerful and fearless, but that doesn¡¯t mean she¡¯s gentle and caring. What¡¯s she going to do after she killed that man in that house, Ry? Stay and clean up? Call the police?¡±


    I shifted a little, uncomfortable with the heat prickling my skin. ¡°How the hell should I know? Olympia saved them, and wasting time playing house maid won¡¯t lower the crime rate.¡±


    He shrugged one shoulder. ¡°No, you¡¯re right. She should just kiss ¡®em goodbye. I bet her flying right out of their house, leaving them to clean up her mess, will sell the comic to Normals.¡±


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    I gritted my teeth, tapped my finger against my bicep. I had somewhere to be, I know, but defending Olympia was part of the game. Defending myself had always been part of the game.


    ¡°This comic isn¡¯t for the Normals,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s for the kids who grew up like me.¡±


    Denny sucked air through his teeth, then walked past me and looked over the posters I had on my walls. ¡°Superheroes save the world, and saving the world means saving everybody.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°A friggin¡¯ comic isn¡¯t going to save the entire world.¡±


    ¡°No, it won¡¯t, but someone¡¯s entire world can be saved because of a comic book.¡± He glanced over his shoulder. ¡°At least, the girl who used to steal my comics would have thought.¡±


    Picking up the piece of paper, I said, ¡°But things changed, D. I want Olympia to be realistic, to show other superhumans that it might be hard sometimes but it¡¯ll get easier eventually.¡±


    ¡°By ¡®get easier,¡¯ I suppose you mean when they kill whoever they don¡¯t like?¡±


    Well, he wasn¡¯t entirely wrong. I shrugged. ¡°Sometimes bad people deserve to die.¡±


    ¡°Is Olympia any better than the criminals she kills?¡± he asked quietly. ¡°Ain¡¯t murder bad?¡±


    I stilled, then said, ¡°¡®Course she is. She¡¯s cleaning up the streets for everyone¡¯s sake.¡±


    Denny breathed for a moment, his back turned away from me. The faint moonlight coming through my window illuminated one side of his pock-marked face. He didn¡¯t speak for several seconds, and I thought the conversation was over as I grabbed the duffel bag and walked toward my door. Olympia comics existed as sketches all over the internet, things that I sometimes liked to flick through because everyone always thought so differently about me. I wanted mine to stand out, and I figured that was easy enough because I was Olympia. At least, I sometimes was.


    I was halfway through the door when Denny said, ¡°A long time ago, Zeus told me something that stuck with me forever. It was the one sentence that inspired me to write about him.¡±


    I froze, my heart leaping up my throat. Hearing about dad was always bittersweet, more so now with a bag full of lies hanging off my shoulder. I cleared my throat. ¡°Yeah? What was it?¡±


    Denny shrugged. ¡°It was thirty years ago. Time took it from me.¡±


    I sighed, then said, ¡°You just told me it stuck with you forever, gramps.¡±


    ¡°Oh, it did,¡± he said, shuffling past me. ¡°It¡¯s the reason I understood why he died for everyone on the planet fighting against Titan. Not just for Supers or Normals, the good people or the bad people, but for everyone. I¡¯m guessing you still never quite understood why yourself.¡±


    I blinked, confused and slightly dumbstruck. ¡°Of course I understood why he died.¡±


    Denny opened his door, pausing to look at me. ¡°Then write Olympia like you do.¡± He continued into his room, saying, ¡°And not the kind of person he would have put six feet deep.¡±


    I was nearly done dying my hair black when my phone began buzzing. Denny¡¯s words had hit like a freight truck, and a part of me just couldn¡¯t figure out why they had. Back in the day, dad always did have his detractors, the minority who said that having someone as powerful as him not be controlled was a danger to everyone around him. Especially for the un-powered majority of us, they would argue on the news. He needs a leash. That narrative died as soon as he did. As for me, well, some people liked that I saved the day and got the cops home safely, but other people wanted to see me locked up for breaking the law. ¡°Just because she¡¯s Zeus¡¯ brat doesn¡¯t mean she¡¯s above the law,¡± the news always said. And sure, that¡¯s why I followed most of the laws humans had.


    But if Denny was saying that killing criminals was a bad idea, just because it made the humans feel uncomfortable watching from the sidelines, then he was dead wrong.


    Dad died saving the world because that¡¯s just what heroes did. And if I ever got the chance to save the world, be there at that crucial moment when everything hangs in the balance, then¡­


    I turned off the tap and washed my hands clean of the black dye. The phone was getting to me, vibrating like an addict without their fix on the ceramic. I filed that thought away for now.


    Not that I wouldn¡¯t die for the humans. Of course I would. I¡¯m Olympia. Why wouldn¡¯t I risk my life for a species so squishy and malleable and frequently frustrating? I loved them.


    Dad wouldn¡¯t put me in the ground the same way I did criminals, anyway. I was picking up where he left off, and even though I wasn¡¯t¡­ quite like him, the humans needed me.


    And maybe this is a news flash for Denny, but I¡¯m not as strong as dad. I can¡¯t waste time playing with supervillains that escape Olympus Pen every other day, I thought. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I pursed my lips and looked away. Phone, right¡ªan unknown number was calling.


    I picked up the phone and wedged it between my ear and shoulder as I pulled on the boots Ava got me. ¡°Go for Rylee,¡± I said, again in mid-air as I forced my foot inside the thing.


    ¡°Kid,¡± Lucas said. I paused, heart leaping into my throat. ¡°I need to talk to you.¡±


    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡± I covered the phone¡¯s speaker and cursed quietly. I glanced around the bathroom, making sure both the window and door were shut. It didn¡¯t matter¡ªAva might have someone tapped into my phone line for all I knew. ¡°Yeah. Yeah, sure. What¡¯s the sitch?¡±


    ¡°Sitch?¡± Lucas asked after a moment of prolonged, uncomfortable silence. ¡°I¡¯m calling to tell you about gang movement in the lower east end, and you refer to this mess as a sitch?¡±


    ¡°Sue me for not being able to read your mind, Lucas,¡± I said. ¡°What¡¯s the problem?¡±


    He sighed quietly, then said, ¡°We¡¯ve got intel that there¡¯s been a shift happening downtown. Rival gangs going after something of high possible value. You know how that goes.¡±


    ¡°Of course I do,¡± I said. ¡°Shootings and massacres. The usual shebang. But I thought you don¡¯t send your boys that deep into Lower Olympus anymore after the mayor kicked you out.¡±


    Like the government licensed Capes in the Olympiad, the SDU were on an even tighter leash. Capes were rarely ever seen in the spotlight¡ªif a problem large enough to warrant their attention reared its head, then that problem wouldn¡¯t have a head a few moments later. They were government agents through and through. Silent. Deadly. Efficient. Never heard and never seen, but always felt, because they were always watching. There was no glory in it anymore, just superhuman terror suppression. The SDU, on the other hand, weren¡¯t liked anywhere near as much as the mysterious men and women in black and white suits. If some six-foot-tall guy in full body armor was patrolling your neighborhood day and night, then you¡¯d also start to get antsy.


    ¡°We need more police on our streets,¡± the CEO of Damage Control said last year. ¡°More people like us who can protect people just like us. Who knows what hides behind those masks?¡±


    So, because of the mayor and her CEO daughter, I took up the slack on this side of town, because the police weren¡¯t much help against someone who could turn them into paste with a snap of their fingers. Lucas might not be chummy with me, but in some ways, we needed each other. I wasn¡¯t going to deal with some petty superhuman break-in all the way in the upper west side. An actress losing her precious pearls wasn¡¯t as important to me as, you know, some kid getting gutted in the alley beside his mom¡¯s apartment building by a gangster with something to prove.


    In all honesty, the city was going to shit, which made dressing up as this other person feel a little more justified. Stability is what the city needs. I couldn¡¯t kill a hydra with a million heads.


    But I can definitely kill it if the rest of the heads aren¡¯t there to take its place, I thought.


    ¡°Salt in the wounds, kid,¡± he replied. ¡°That¡¯s why I need your eyes there. I¡¯m wrapped up in a meeting tonight, so you¡¯ll have to do something you¡¯re not very good at: stay discreet.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°I¡¯m the most discreet person I know. Have you heard me fly?¡±


    ¡°The point I¡¯m making is that I need you to be my eyes and ears,¡± he said, lowering his voice. I heard chatter in the background, as well as the ruffle of papers. ¡°This is important¡ª¡±


    I sat on the edge of the bathtub, paused for a moment. ¡°What¡¯s the meeting for?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what it¡¯s for, kid. I just need you to follow orders for once.¡±


    ¡°Lucas,¡± I said. Camera clicks in the background. More indistinguishable chatter. Was he inside of a boardroom? ¡°What¡¯s going on? When do you ever say you need me anywhere?¡±


    He covered the microphone and spoke to someone briefly. ¡°Remember what I told you about using those powers for more than just public terrorism? Well, use ¡®em tonight.¡±


    I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. ¡°You sound weird tonight. You told me a few hours ago to fuck off, and now you want me to be your little lap dog? How about you pick what you want from me? One day you want me to be the superhero for your boys, then you don¡¯t want¡ª¡±


    ¡°The Alps incident. Remember that?¡± he asked. My blood chilled. I tensed my jaw. ¡°I thought so. We agreed you¡¯ll be on call whenever I need you. You did that through high school. You did that and missed your graduation to take down A-Grade kaiju. Now I need you to do something simple and just gather intel so, for the love of God, don¡¯t fuck with my patience, Rylee.¡±


    My saliva soured. ¡°I don¡¯t like being spoken to like a fucking child.¡±


    ¡°So grow up and do what you¡¯re being asked to for the betterment of the city,¡± he said. A beat of silence passed between us. My heart hammered against my ribs, racing. Finally, he added, ¡°They¡¯re thinking of making a task force to stop you. Cassie Blackwood came, and she brought the Damage Control board with her. You screwed yourself with the bank robbery, and not everyone¡¯s happy about you flying around all the time. I¡¯m trying to help you. So get down there, do a good job, and actually clean up this city. Otherwise, it¡¯s not gonna be easy to defend you.¡±


    The CEO of Damage Control was here? She¡¯d been one of the biggest pains in my side ever since I introduced myself to the world. She was a two-for-one deal, heading both Blackwood Pharma and one of the largest private security firms in the States. Saying she was powerful was like saying the sun was a flashlight. But, I¡¯ll admit, fourteen-year-old me found it kinda cool that someone like her only ever spoke about me on the news. But as the years went on, the novelty wore off as Damage Control made sure I understood that I wasn¡¯t welcome anywhere near their operators. Cassie wasn¡¯t an anti-super, just like her company told everyone every single year.


    But she did want more Normals in the Olympiad. She wanted more Normals in the police force and, from what I learned from Denny, tried to get her mother to pass a stop-and search law for superhumans. It didn¡¯t go through, of course, but she¡¯d made her stance very, very clear.


    And now she wanted to create a task force dedicated to my capture. If I stopped operating, then Damage Control would just pick up where I left off. The media that supported them would trip over themselves turning the masses against me, making it seem like I was the problem as Damage Control swept up the heaps of human trash in Lower Olympus. ¡°Why need superheroes when humans are just as capable?¡± she always said. ¡°Let humanity be the heroes of their story¡±


    If I was any less vane, I would have taken that as a compliment. But I stayed out of human politics. It didn¡¯t make a lick of sense to me, and I wasn¡¯t planning on getting my hands that dirty.


    So, I stood up, kicking the toes of my boots against the ceramic floor. ¡°Yeah, alright.¡±


    ¡°¡®Yeah, alright¡¯ what?¡± he asked. ¡°You better not be blowing me off right now, Ry.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d love to, just so I can see a few more gray hairs on your face.¡± I picked up the ski mask on the sink. ¡°But I¡¯m on my way down there already. I¡¯ll help, but only ¡®cause you asked nicely.¡±


    ¡°Freeman,¡± a voice in the background said. ¡°Meeting starts in two. Get in here.¡±


    Lucas sighed, then said, ¡°Never ends in the Shining City, does it?¡±


    ¡°It did for the rest of your Olympian buddies.¡±


    Silence. Then he quietly said, ¡°That¡¯s a low blow, kid. Even for you.¡±


    Shrugging, I said, ¡°I guess that¡¯s what you get for using the Alps incident against me.¡±


    He laughed bitterly, short and sharp. ¡°Hell of an asshole, kid. Just like your old man.¡±


    I smiled a little. ¡°Thanks for the compliment, Freeman. Means the world to be anything like him.¡±

 Issue #6: The Kaiju, The Supervillain, And The Backstab

    To my surprise, I found Ava half a block away from my apartment building, panting and sweaty and still covered all over in her own blood. I blew her a kiss as she glowered at me, sweat glistening on her brow. She pulled a pristine handkerchief out of her pocket and dabbed it away.


    ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± I said to her, slapping her shoulder and making her stumble. ¡°We don¡¯t have all night to sit around and catch our breath.¡±


    She glared at me, dangerously silent as she stood and led the way. Ava decided we should walk several blocks through the dead of night to the rest of her gang. The darkness wasn¡¯t a problem for me, with my eyesight being sharp enough to spot the mandibles on the ants underneath my sneakers if I wanted to check them out, but it was the intent behind her decision that riled me up. Here we were, two girls walking alone down the deserted lower east end, unbothered by the stink of sewage spilling from grates, and this terrible feeling that something wasn¡¯t quite right.


    Ava walked ahead of me, sure of herself in the way she strode. She was quick for someone who just ran several blocks to catch up to me, but she wasn¡¯t in a hurry, pressured to take control of me. It was like she wasn¡¯t afraid of the night, just dedicated to getting somewhere important.


    From the outside, it must have looked as if I were her superhuman bodyguard in this gunmetal black ski mask and sleeveless top. A part of me found this almost a little funny, knowing that if I was Olympia right now and saw this from above, I wouldn¡¯t have thought twice about swooping down here and ripping both of us a new one. But the thought wasn¡¯t calming, and the smile it brought soon vanished. My skin prickled. Hairs rose. Someone was watching us. I felt it.


    I stayed several footsteps behind her, close enough to punch a hole through her spine if she decided to stop playing nice, but far enough away that I could dart into the air in case she made the shadows leap toward me. Call me paranoid, but I knew what her family was like. Knew what they were capable of in the blink of an eye. But, on the other hand, would she have wanted me energized, rested, rearing at full power and straying a few steps behind her if she really did want to attack me? She would have taken her chance by now. Unless she had something else planned.


    I watched the dark, blind covered windows looming over us. The apartments surrounding us were hives of life, with pulsating music and voices finding their way past heavy curtains and into my ears. Life was still here in the lower east end, you just had to search deep in the dark for it. Closed food stands still reeked of hot oil and stale pizza. Children had left their broken toys on the steps outside of apartment buildings. I squinted, scanning the rooftops, wondering if any of the Normals gathered up there were working for Ava, pretending to blend in to escape my eye.


    You could always sense a superhuman, but Normals might as well have been ghosts.


    ¡°If you¡¯re trying to find my shadow, I¡¯m afraid you won¡¯t be able to spot them.¡±


    I grunted, shifting the duffel bag on my shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re a villain. Can¡¯t blame me.¡±


    Ava chuckled lightly, shoes snapping against the pavement. It was as if she wanted to make a scene, assert dominance against the silence. ¡°No, I can¡¯t fault you for falling on your instincts.¡±


    We walked in silence for several blocks, turning down street corners and descending into the bowels of the lower east end. The police never frequented these parts, because it wasn¡¯t worth the time nor the risk of fighting against a heroin addicted superhuman causing mayhem around this time of night. Signs of old battles scarred buildings and the twisting road. Craters had been blown into the tarmac. Cars had been flipped over and left to burn out, leaving nothing but empty shells. The noise that didn¡¯t come from Ava¡¯s shoes was mainly from the harsh slap of white flags caught in the breeze that stuck out of windows. White Cape flags¡ªa gang of pro-superhuman freaks who thought every Normal¡ªnot just the bad ones¡ªwere trash that needed to be dealt with instantly.


    My nose shriveled with disgust. I snuffed the urge to clear out the buildings. Emelia said I made the rest of us look bad, but in comparison, I might as well be the Pope to the Normals.


    The embroidered double golden war hammers caught the light of flickering street lamps, and above them, were the shadows of people moving past heavily blotched out windows. We never lingered around their homes. The few eyes that caught us glared before turning away. The one time I tried to deal with them, I inadvertently gave the media something else to chew me out for, because suddenly I was the bad guy for neutralizing a couple of superhuman fascists. You could never win with these humans. Did they want me to clean up their streets or not?


    In fairness, I did have to destroy several buildings to send them scurrying out.


    But it was a disaster zone, something I didn¡¯t always see flying so far high in the sky. My gut turned at the sight of a taped off grocery store, the strips of neon yellow police tape flapping in the gusty wind. A chalk outline was on the floor in front of the counter, arms spread, legs askew, with the faintest orange tint smattered all over the floor. I watched as two kids made a race course for tiny cars out of it. I paused, locking eyes with one. They stared at me before running deeper into the store and up a set of stairs, completely out of sight until I heard a door slam shut.


    ¡°Something the matter?¡± Ava said beside me. ¡°If there is, you have to let me know.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just get going,¡± I muttered. ¡°There¡¯s White Capes around here, anyway.¡±


    It was several minutes before Ava spoke again, and when she did, her voice was touched by a hint of venom. ¡°They¡¯ve been more of a pain as of late. I think they¡¯re trying to band together, create some kind of brotherhood with a structure to their madness. If they keep going this way¡ª¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t,¡± I said, my knuckles whitening around the bag¡¯s straps. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure.¡±


    Ava glanced at me, her eyes narrowing curiously, but choosing to say nothing.


    Several blocks after the taped up convenience store, the ground began to reverberate, making loose stones skitter along the pavement. Blaring music, pulsing through the earth, came from the long street ahead of us. Apartment buildings and storefronts morphed into hollow casinos and long abandoned hotels that towered over everything beside them. The Lower Boulevard wasn¡¯t anything like the pictures back in its heyday. Palm trees along the street were withered, slumped under their own weight, just like the dozens of store fronts robbed of all their worth. In comparison to its newer, shinier sister in the upper west side, this place was the crown of bones that sat on the head of what Lower Olympus used to be. Sure, some people still lived here, smoked here, drank their money away and gambled what little they had into the money pits surrounding us.


    But the shine was gone, and all that was left were lilting shadows and drunks. Hookers and prostitutes and gang bangers who weren¡¯t afraid of the police or the curfew they wouldn¡¯t impose.


    Some joints had strict ¡®No Supers Allowed¡¯ signs on them. Others had pure white flags draped over the entrances. I spotted guns, rifles, a dozen or so knives and machetes on belts.


    All of this didn¡¯t exactly make me feel confident about Ava¡¯s plan anymore. Lucian used to operate around these parts, stamping on every neck that stuck out a little too far for his liking.


    He wouldn¡¯t have let it go to shit like this, I thought, stepping over some lady passed out on the concrete. My better judgment won out and, even though I heard her weak pulse, I rubbed my index and thumb together, pressed it to her chest, and lightly jolted her awake. The fog in her eyes cleared. Her heart quickened. Her cheeks puffed up, reddened, then she puked on her dress.


    ¡°Go home,¡± I growled, because if I looked like a thug, I guess I had to act like one.


    The woman blinked, got up, staggered her way down the street, but kept going.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you could do that,¡± Ava said quietly. ¡°I thought your electricity¡ª¡±


    I nudged her arm to make her keep walking. ¡°We keep secrets here, remember?¡±


    She smiled, a curious glimmer shining in her eyes, then continued leading the way forward.


    ***


    At the end of the broadwalk, a stone throw away from the bay, was the Golden Guild. A palace in comparison to everything that came before it, and a statement to every other small casino we passed on our way here. I now understood why Ava walked so casually, confidently, toward the end of the boulevard; the guild was still, to this day, one of the biggest hotels ever built in New Olympus. I was a kid when this place used to host all kinds of big name villains, but things were different back then¡ªthey were borderline celebrities in their own right. You read articles on what Mystique wore, or who Overkill had on his arm that night. Blogs and videos and news hours.


    But now the bay was smeared in fog, smudging the sky and the blackened sea. The building itself was nothing compared to the shining scarlet glory it once was. Cracks split the large pillars standing in front of the entrance, as if they were giving up on holding the weight of the balcony above it. Vines stretched over one wall, crawling through open windows. The lights were off, except for a single crimson bulb humming above the entrance. I could sense someone watching us now clearly, a presence that thudded toward the entrance and peaked out of a window.


    A dark silhouette stared at us, then the curtains swept shut. Ava stood with her arms behind her back, meters from the door. I was still cautious, my skin crawling with nerves. I was hovering an inch off the filthy red carpet that led to the iron front door, partly out of disgust to be fair. The place reeked of dead fish and sea salt, old cigarette butts and blood clinging to broken glass.


    Olympia stared at me from the shattered glass spread on the pavement to one side of us, her eyes glinting off each shard, and her glower caught by the hellish light coming from the doorway.


    I swallowed the lump in my throat, ignoring her as locks started clicking out of place.


    ¡°It¡¯s not what it used to be. I know,¡± Ava said quietly, tensing her jaw. ¡°Times have changed and so has the business model. But I assure you that there¡¯s nothing to worry about.¡±


    I cocked an eyebrow, wondering. ¡°And what exactly is this new business model?¡±


    The steel door shuddered and groaned open. Ava didn¡¯t answer as she strode past the hulking mass of corded muscle stooped behind the door. I¡¯d seen large before, but this was a superhuman who had probably been unfortunate enough to have had a terrible Awakening. I couldn¡¯t help but stare at his fingers, curled and thick, fused together by pale pink skin, and at his crooked solid jaw, broad sweaty forehead, and jutting set of lower teeth. He was shirtless, his pants were curtain drapes sewn to fit just him. And he had this dead, cold look in his blue eyes. Orbs that narrowed as he clamped his meaty hand on my shoulder, stopping me dead in my tracks.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    My knees buckled under the sudden weight. I blinked, surprised. An A-Grade. Had to be.


    ¡°Solomon,¡± Ava said, already halfway across the dark, dingy, empty casino hall. ¡°She¡¯s the girl I went to get. Her name is Tempest. Remember what I told you about being nice to guests?¡±


    He grunted, nodding once and letting go of me. I rolled my shoulder, feeling the wetness his sweaty palm left behind. Then he reached for me again. I readied myself. But instead of grabbing my shoulder, he dusted me off, which felt like being hit repeatedly by sledgehammers.


    I looked up at him, put off. He smiled a large smile that showed off mismatched teeth.


    ¡°Tempest,¡± Ava said. ¡°We don¡¯t have a large operating window. Let¡¯s get going.¡±


    Hovering my way across the casino lounge, I glanced over my shoulder, watching as Solomon slammed the iron door shut and sat beside it, his eyes shut, his mouth open, hands on his knees and a tiny radio playing some pop song just next to his large feet. He waved as we left.


    I followed Ava down the never ending hallway. Bullet holes punctured the walls and the carpet. Vases were smashed and littered across the ruined tiles. Floor to ceiling pieces of artwork were torn, and pieces hung limp like colorful tongues of paper. A firefight had raged through these hallways, destroying walls and parts of the floor, exposing other empty rooms and electrical wires.


    The entire place felt¡­ odd. Not like I was flying through the hideout of one of the most notorious villains of his generation, but the after party of his demise. Was that part of the reason Ava was walking so quickly, without pause, because she didn¡¯t like lingering on the destruction?


    But that left me with ringing questions: where was Lucifer? Who did this kind of damage?


    I didn¡¯t have the time to stop and think as we reached a wall of elevators. One elevator had no doors, open to an abyss of a long shaft. Others were filled with rubble spilling onto the floor. The one Ava made a beeline for was relatively intact, albeit with dents in the steel. She pressed the down button, making the doors creak open. The lights were on inside, golden and bright, only making the garish smear of dried blood on the floor and the torn wallpaper more out of place.


    We stepped inside, myself still hovering in the air. Then we waited for a heartbeat before Ava looked at me, a brief flash of annoyance on her face as she said, ¡°Basement button.¡±


    I glared at her, and the look on her face vanished. ¡°Please,¡± she added cordially.


    The doors shut, and the elevator began to descend. The mechanism groaned and rattled, jerking the elevator every other second. Sound numbed, becoming distant. We were down beneath several layers of concrete, judging by how silent it all became. Bitter saliva filled my mouth as I clenched the bag. The other shafts must be blocked or destroyed. And through this many levels of concrete, we were practically in a whole other world. If she already had an A-Grade sitting by the door, then who else did she have in her gang that was actually going to do the heavy lifting?


    And why need me for all this? I thought. Every supervillain would kill to be with Lucian.


    Ava reached past me and pressed the emergency stop button. The elevator halted, jerking to a sudden stop. Electricity sparked between my fingers. Heat emanated from my body. I grabbed her throat and lifted her off the ground, looking her dead in her bored eyes as I stopped to listen to the silence. Nothing. Nobody coming our way. No attack. Unless the concrete was too thick, or she had some other material lining the elevator that stopped my super hearing. Was that possible?


    ¡°This is getting tedious,¡± she said. ¡°Your trust won¡¯t come easily, and I know it cannot be bought, but you¡¯re one us now, at least temporarily, so I¡¯d ask if you just calmed down a little.¡±


    ¡°Then why did you stop the damned elevator?¡± I said. ¡°Whose coming?¡±


    ¡°I stopped because I needed to tell you to not be Olympia,¡± Ava said. I backed off, letting go of her neck. She massaged her throat as she looked at me, annoyance on her face. ¡°Your golden electricity. The bright, shining yellow eyes. All of it is too incriminating. Are you able to stop it?¡±


    I folded my arms. ¡°Have you ever tried to sprint without breathing before?¡±


    Ava¡¯s eyebrows creased in confusion. ¡°I¡­ suppose. Why?¡±


    ¡°It feels like that if I don¡¯t let my body do what it needs to,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± I weighed my options, wondering if I should tell her this or not. It wouldn¡¯t matter, I guessed. She had let me into her hideout, showed me what was left of her father¡¯s gang: I might not have known as much about her as she did me, but a sudden visit from Olympia would ruin everything she¡¯d planned if she ever dared to use anything she knew against me. ¡°It weakens me after a while. Not as fast and not as strong and sure as hell not as bulletproof as compared to when I use the electricity and heat.¡±


    She nodded, biting her thumb. ¡°Well, that¡¯s annoying, but it¡¯ll have to do.¡± Ava looked at me as she pressed the button again, continuing the elevator. ¡°You say you¡¯re human, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked. ¡°Because I¡¯m that much better than your average superhuman?¡±


    Ava remained serious as the elevator came to a stop. ¡°Questions for another time.¡±


    The doors opened to a fluorescent illuminated storage area packed full with armor wearing mercenaries. I was caught in the spotlight, frozen in place as hundreds of them looked our way. Cigarette smoke hung in the air, a haziness that blurred the shadows clinging to large pillars. They were all stooped over large crates of ammunition and assault rifles, flash bangs, grenades, body armor and so much more military grade equipment my gut turned with a sudden surge of heat. Wearing combat boots, black pants, jackets with the labels taped over and chiseled, suspicious faces, they looked exactly like any thug I wouldn¡¯t have thought twice about pulling apart on a Monday night. The underground warehouse was large, large enough for them to unload this new shipment being brought out of blacked-out armored trucks near the back of the grimy warehouse.


    Every box was the same silver metal, with white serial numbers printed on them meaning nothing to me. I sensed several superhumans amongst them, but nothing I could physically see.


    Ava placed her hand on my lower back, pulling me out of my searching stare. My body had started becoming hot, making the blood on the walls of the elevator spill down the sides.


    Instinct told me to plow into the pillars, collapse the whole damned thing and trap the thugs under the ruble. It would take me a minute and hardly a sprinkle of sweat on my forehead.


    Instead, I followed Ava out of the elevator. Eyes tracked both of us, some curious, others vaguely interested, most bored, but a few dozen narrowed their eyes at me. You never knew what kind of superhuman you were dealing with, or how well trained or how powerful they were.


    For the first time since I got my powers, I felt blind to the world around me. Choked.


    ¡°Hey, Av¡¯,¡± a man shouted as they all got back to unloading the boxes. He appeared from the masses, not much different from the rest in all-black gear. His saving grace was the fleshy scar that went down his cheek and stopped just above his jaw. ¡°This the firepower you promised?¡±


    She nodded, not stopping for him, making sure he kept pace as we crossed the room. ¡°She¡¯s called Tempest. Tempest, this is O¡¯Reiley. You¡¯ll work with him in the field.¡±


    I looked him up and down, and he did the same. ¡°Got some kinda problem?¡±


    He chewed on something foul, tobacco probably. ¡°Just smaller than I thought. Got any training? Experience? Know how to keep your shit together when it all hits the fan?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a Normal,¡± I said dryly. ¡°I can smell the heart disease in your veins.¡±


    He stopped chewing, narrowing his eyes. ¡°A Super with a good nose. That¡¯s all?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°I could also pull out your heart and save your family the autopsy bill.¡±


    The pair of us stopped, staring at each other. His hand rested on a hunting knife strapped to his thigh, fingers casually perched on the hilt as if he wasn¡¯t sure if it would work on me. Or maybe to intimidate me. To push the new girl and see how she¡¯d react if he pulled it out on her.


    Then he smiled, showing yellowing teeth. ¡°A jackass, too. Better not be all bark.¡±


    ¡°If I wanted to listen to people stroke their egos I¡¯d watch Vice President Rivers talk about her charity work,¡± Ava said, snapping her fingers. ¡°Tempest, come on. O¡¯Reiley, follow.¡±


    I grunted, waving O¡¯Reiley past me. I didn¡¯t like the way she had been talking and looking at me ever since we got here, but maybe it was out of necessity. Daddy¡¯s little girl had to grab a hold of what was seemingly left of the crumbling empire. Be strong and demanding. A bit of an asshole in all honesty. I couldn¡¯t blame her, though, being surrounded by mercenaries all day long.


    But I respected it. A part of me knew how awkward those shoes felt to walk in.


    We were led into a corner of the warehouse, where large stretches of the wall had a map of New Olympus taped to the concrete. Tacks dotted the city, most of them clustered in Lower Olympus. Circles had been drawn in red marker, and several blocks, buildings, and streets had Xs over them. In front of the connected maps were tables, many filled with strewn papers, others with desk lamps that lit up what I could only think were financial records and docking schedules.


    Oh, and there was a kaiju reading through a thick yellow file. It didn¡¯t take me by surprise, but seeing them out in the open was always a shock to the system. The human-animal hybrids were hated by both superhumans and Normals, and nobody ever stood up for them either. I figured there was a reason for it, but I never paid much attention in history to learn about it. This one, though, wasn¡¯t much of the monster the tabloids would make you think they were. He wore a suit, stood about as tall as O¡¯Reiley, and simply had a large dog head in place of his human one. A golden retriever, I think? I couldn¡¯t really tell. I was just impressed seeing him be¡­ intelligent.


    Not to say kaiju were stupid, but when an unfortunate Awakening happened and your brain got mangled and morphed into half the size it was, then you wouldn¡¯t be very smart either.


    ¡°The others,¡± Ava said, making the kaiju dog-man perk up from the file. ¡°Where are they?¡±


    He took off the glasses perched on the end of his nose, and when he spoke, I couldn¡¯t help but smile in surprise. He could speak¡ªI¡¯m sure there was a joke hiding in there somewhere.


    ¡°Well, they returned just minutes ago. They shouldn¡¯t be¡ª¡± He stopped, then held his hand out to me, shaking his head. ¡°Where are my manners? Mr. Campbell. How do you do?¡±


    His hand was normal, too. A bit of a disappointment, I¡¯d say. ¡°Tempest.¡±


    ¡°What a firm grip,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m sure Averie made the right choice cajoling you into our little family of world-changers. I hope you found the snacks I gathered for you satisfactory?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, they were¡­¡± I laughed, looking him up and down. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but wow.¡±


    He cocked his head, ears flopping to one side. ¡°I beg your pardon?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just the first kaiju I¡¯ve seen who can talk and understand me. Good¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t make that joke if you know what¡¯s fuckin¡¯ good for you,¡± O¡¯Reiley said.


    I held up my hands in mock surrender. ¡°I was just gonna say good for him.¡±


    And I doubted a criminal could be a good boy, anyway.


    ¡°You can speak more later,¡± Ava said, massaging her temples. ¡°Where are they?¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t everyone?¡± I asked, waving my hand to indicate the people surrounding us. ¡°Dozens of mercs and a few superhumans isn¡¯t enough?¡± Besides, I could probably work alone if all I had for backup was a couple of Normals with guns.


    Nobody works alone here, a voice said in my head. Even Zeus had partners.


    I spun around so quickly the sudden gust of wind shoved O¡¯Reiley several steps backward. Papers blew into the air, snatched up by a flustered Mr. Campbell. It wasn¡¯t Ava¡¯s voice I had heard, and a part of me was desperate for her not to be able to read minds too. That was a step too far in my book. A step across a line that would have put a definitive end to our deal.


    ¡°What the fuck¡¯s the matter with you?¡± O¡¯Reiley said. ¡°Pull that shit again¡ª¡±


    I shushed him, narrowing my eyes, searching the faces of the mercs. No, none of them either. Most mind readers had to be looking directly at you, something to do with making it easier.


    Until I found the one pair of eyes looking straight at me¡ªdark, ebony colored eyes that belonged to a supermodel¡¯s face. Her hair was blood-red, her lipstick the same color. She walked toward us from the other side of the storage area, three others in tow. Her dress was long and dark, sweeping along the floor. She got stares and low, jousting whistles from a few of the guys and girls. Inside the dimly lit warehouse, her skin was paler, her cheeks more sculpted as if someone had taken a scalpel to her face. The trio behind her, two smiling, one masked, made my throat dry.


    Heart pounding as I hovered, I balled my fists as I watched Witchling smile at me.

 Issue #7: Playing Nice and Making New Friends

    If you told me two hours ago that I would be stuck in the same room as Witchling, I wouldn¡¯t have believed you. Olympia wasn¡¯t known for her detective skills, and chasing supervillains was a problem that eventually got too time consuming and tedious as they slipped deeper into the cracks of the city to warrant the effort. I left that to the SDU and the police, and whenever something came up on their lines, I would gear up and join them on their raids. But this was different, because she was walking straight toward me, a smug look on her face as she fixed her flawless hair.


    A part of me wanted to retaliate for losing against Witchling and the rest of the villains that escaped just a few hours ago by killing her. You don¡¯t take this seriously enough, Lucas had said, and standing in front of her, I almost reasoned lunging toward the possible S-Grade. But I reigned myself in, snuffing the flare of emotion burning inside my chest. If she was here, then she was part of Ava¡¯s group, which only meant that Ava needed more than just what I brought to the table.


    She needed power, superhumans on a level that could stand up against the SDU and a possible Cape from the Olympiad if it all went to shit. This must have been what Lucas was telling me about on the phone a few minutes ago, then. Or maybe this was another deterrent to keep me in check by having someone who already beat me on her side. How long had Ava really been watching me? Had the bank robbery also been a test of some kind? I glanced her way, finding that she was already looking at me, her face pleading for me to stay calm. I figured she was right in not telling me beforehand, because signing me up for this mess would have taken a lot more.


    But you¡¯re doing this for the right cause, remember? I thought. It still took a physical effort to unball my fists. They wouldn¡¯t know who I was, but maybe I could use this to my benefit. Learn about how they operated and who was really in charge. Figure out their dynamics and secrets. As Lucas argued my case for me in the upper west side, I was helping his task force down here. Ava was giving me access to this for a reason, or maybe just to fuck with me so I thought I had some kind of advantage over her when our agreement came to an end. Swearing under my breath, I massaged my temples, annoyed at the stupid little mind games she was playing with me.


    I wondered if dad ever had to go through the same hoops this human was putting me through, though a part of me couldn¡¯t even see him wilfully playing along to a villain¡¯s song.


    Witchling stopped in front of me, arms folded across her chest. My gut turned as she stared me down with those deep black eyes. I wondered if she could read minds, or whether she could just speak to people telepathically. It didn¡¯t matter. Out of everyone in this warehouse, she was the biggest threat. Little was known about her or where she even came from. She never spoke, and nobody really knew if she was able to, but someone able to manipulate reality wasn¡¯t someone you could trust. She had a death warrant on her head; no point putting her in a prison that she could simply warp her way out of was how the DPIA, Olympiad, and ADA figured was the best option.


    I could win myself a lot of praise by killing her and sending her body to Lucas as proof of how seriously I took being a superhero, but Ava was soon beside me, squeezing my arm.


    If Witchling was here, I reminded myself, then Ava needed her powers, too, meaning I needed to try and not kill her. Gods, I hated working with humans. Damn their leverage.


    Ace slid the toothpick in his mouth from one side to the next, then said, ¡°Hold on a minute. This is all you brought back, Av¡¯? I thought you were gonna get a somebody. Not some kid.¡±


    Ava put her hand on my chest, getting between us before I made a bad decision. ¡°She¡¯s called Tempest, and if she wanted, you¡¯d be a mess on the floor and smattered all over my guns.¡±


    His eyes narrowed as he cocked his head. ¡°Super strength?¡± he muttered. ¡°We could¡¯ve gotten Dumbo upstairs to follow us around if we needed another  big old meathead.¡±


    ¡°Hell of a lot of talk coming from someone the Olympiad stopped chasing,¡± I said.


    ¡°They stopped chasing me because they couldn¡¯t catch me,¡± he argued. ¡°So how about you settle down a little ¡®for I teach you to stop talking when you¡¯re not supposed to.¡±


    Hovering, I pushed past Ava, getting in front of him. ¡°Yeah, and why¡¯s that?¡±


    He smiled a little. ¡°¡®Cause I¡¯ve seen girls like you before, thinking they¡¯re hot shit just because they can kill a man with their hands. They get cocky. Then they get dead. You ain¡¯t special, kid, you¡¯re a placeholder for the next super who comes along, just like the gal before you.¡±


    There was someone else?  I thought, glancing over my shoulder at Ava. It didn¡¯t matter right now, anyway. ¡°Fuck you,¡± I spat. ¡°For all I know some Normal with a gun killed her.¡±


    The warehouse seemed to collectively pause. Mercenaries straightened, looking my way with quiet malice in their eyes. I heard the silent snaps and clicks of safety switches being flicked off. The continuous thumping of their collective heartbeats was like a gong in the silence, this beating warning that only rapidly grew faster as I hovered a little higher. I had struck some nerve, something that ran deep through all of them, like probing a still bleeding knife wound. I saw it on their faces, the way they readied themselves. Ace¡¯s face fell flat, his eyebrows lowering as he removed his arm from Damsel¡¯s shoulders. Even Ava pursed her lips, sliding her hand off me.


    Witchling continued staring at me. I wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d blinked in five minutes.


    ¡°You come here,¡± Ace said quietly, ¡°thinking you¡¯re any better than what came before?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Well, she¡¯s dead, isn¡¯t she? So I guess I¡¯m good enough to be alive.¡± Looking down at him, I smiled, only a little, then said, ¡°Something she wasn¡¯t good enough to do.¡±


    A beat of silence passed. Seconds that felt like hours ticked by as we stared at each other. A part of me was rearing for a fight, something to burn away the voice in my head telling me that making a deal with Ava was a terrible idea in the first place. So I edged closer to him, right up to his face, itching for a fight that I could easily explain away as self defense when I killed him.


    Instead, Damsel sidled up next to Ace, looking at me as she said, ¡°Darlin¡¯, I know you want to protect your ego and all, but picking a fight when we¡¯re all on the same team won¡¯t help.¡±


    O¡¯Reiley grunted. ¡°She¡¯s right, new kid. Don¡¯t shit the bed the first time you get in.¡±


    I waved my hand through the air. ¡°Oh, please. He¡¯s the jackass that started it.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re not really one of us,¡± Ace said. ¡°So nobody has your side on this.¡±


    Ava spoke up: ¡°I do. I was the one who brought her here, and it¡¯s my fault that she spoke out of line. So I''ll make sure she stays quiet and only speaks when she¡¯s asked to next time.¡±


    I cocked an eyebrow at her. ¡°Who the fuck do you think you¡¯re talking to?¡±


    She turned her head but not her body, as if she wasn¡¯t going to put the effort in facing me. ¡°The person I hired to do a job that didn¡¯t include making a pain of herself to those she¡¯ll be working with.¡± Ava¡¯s eyes trained me, dead set, cold and serious. ¡°Are we clear, Tempest?¡±


    It took several seconds, but the message was clear. It left my mouth tasting bitter.


    ¡°Good,¡± Ava said. ¡°Now that we¡¯re done with that, let¡¯s get to what brought us here.¡± She turned to the map on the wall, and the mercenaries continued sorting the ammunition and firearms throughout the warehouse. The four villains walked past me, with Witchling soundlessly brushing past my shoulder, Knuckles not bothering to look at me, Damsel smiling, and Ace taking one look at me before he whispered, ¡°Stay on your fucking leash,¡± as he joined his boss at the wall.


    Countless thoughts crossed my mind, none pleasant, as I followed them. I could almost hear what Olympia would have to say about letting a human talk down on her. But Ava knew who I was and where I lived, my friends and the only family I had left. It wasn¡¯t me who I was afraid for, but everyone else who would get caught in the crossfire. Lucas knew who I was, too, but he knew more than anyone what it meant to keep your lives separated for the safety of the people you cared about. We had an unspoken agreement, me and him, but Ava was entirely different.


    How many more people had she told about me? Her shadow could be in this room, maybe as one of the mercenaries, or they might be in my bedroom right now, searching through my belongings, or even at Veronica¡¯s place, watching her from the neighbor¡¯s window, waiting for her to come home and lock the front door and drink half the bottle of wine she kept in the kitchen cabinet behind the cereals. Right now, I had to play her game, or else I¡¯d lose everything.


    But swallowing my pride and listening to what she had to say wasn¡¯t any easier.


    You¡¯ll get used to it, Witchling said in my head again. I shot her a glare, but she wasn¡¯t looking at me, but at Ava. She¡¯s got to show she¡¯s in charge and as strong as her father.


    ¡°Get in my head again and I¡¯ll sever your skull from your spine,¡± I whispered.


    Though I was behind her, I saw the corner of her lips turn up into a smile. I wish to see you try, she said, the sound of her chuckle irritating in my head. It would be so much fun, wouldn¡¯t it?


    ¡°Tonight could be the night everything changes for us,¡± Ava said, turning to face us superhumans and the few mercs listening in. ¡°Right now we¡¯ve got smaller numbers than the Triumvirate and would simply be a blip on the SDU¡¯s radar if they so much as hear about anything we¡¯re planning to do. Our ammunition is limited, and even though we¡¯ve got a new member who can hold her weight¡±¡ªAce shook his head, then spat out his toothpick; O¡¯Reiley gave him a warning glare before he could interrupt Ava¡ª¡°we¡¯ll still be in need of the element of surprise.¡±


    ¡°If the new kid thinks she¡¯s hot shit, why don¡¯t we just send her in all by herself?¡±


    Ava barely looked at Ace as she stepped forward and said, ¡°The objective is clear. You know what you¡¯re all supposed to be doing, but for Tempest¡¯s case, I¡¯ll go over it one final time.¡±


    I paid no attention to Ace as Ava pointed at the Lower Olympus docks, an area so filled with red pins you could barely see the port where the ships used to file into before a newer dock was built further along the coastline. I frowned, getting closer, pushing my way past a few mercs and supervillains I couldn¡¯t care less about. The docks, though, weren''t going to be a fun time for anyone, judging by the number of weak spots indicated around the area. Escape routes were blocked off by demolished buildings. Sealed tunnels due for maintenance work. Even the airspace above the dock was dominated by cranes and sagging electrical wires from what I last checked.


    If Lower Olympus was in better shape, we wouldn¡¯t be in this mess to begin with.


    I spoke what was on my mind. ¡°Who the hell would dock their ship there? Do they want to get hijacked that bad? Hell, if I was Olympia I¡¯d be waiting for someone to even be that stupid.¡±


    ¡°Well, according to our info, Aegis Tech has decided to dock right there in about an hour¡¯s time,¡± O¡¯Reiley said. ¡°I¡¯m no genius, but I know what it means when a weapon¡¯s manufacturer doesn¡¯t want to go through the rank and file of the newer dock¡¯s cargo search routine.¡±


    Another piece clicked into place. I hated Aegis Tech just like any other superhuman would. They were the sole reason both Damage Control and the SDU could charge into battle against any A-and-S-Grade superhumans without pausing to stop and think about their career choices. Their special-grade rifles packed a punch, one so hard that, on full charge, felt like getting slammed into by several tank rounds. It couldn¡¯t put a hole through me, but I¡¯d been active enough on deep web forums to see exactly what the insides of a superhuman looked like after getting hit by one.


    I had a reason for not wanting to work with the SDU, then. If they wanted to, they could shoot me down with a sniper round and proceed to piss me off as they tried to take me out. My only saving grace was that the guns were expensive, so regular gangsters and villains couldn¡¯t get their hands on them without spending money that could otherwise be used to buy a small bank.


    Technically, such weapons shouldn¡¯t exist, and I for one agreed with the humans on that. But Blackwood Pharma explained it away by saying, ¡°You can toggle the power of the guns.¡±


    ¡°Besides,¡± that gray-eyed CEO had said on TV last year. ¡°We have to keep our own safe from the superhuman threat. You can¡¯t possibly know what they¡¯re capable of these days.¡±


    But if Aegis were shipping more guns in through New Olympus¡¯ back door¡­


    ¡°What the hell are they trying to bring into the city?¡± I asked. ¡°Another special rifle?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s impossible to tell,¡± Ava said. ¡°Our informant wasn¡¯t able to tell us all that much.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d think they¡¯d try and find out what¡¯s so dangerous that Aegis would try to sneak it into New Olympus,¡± I said. Ava¡¯s eyes narrowed, and I put up my hands. ¡°Just saying.¡±


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Some of us ain''t built like Olympia,¡± Darling muttered. ¡°She tried her best to let us know what exactly them boys in Aegis were filling the crates with, but I pulled her out for her safety.¡±


    That¡¯s the problem with these humans, I thought. A single bullet in the chest and they¡¯re done for the day. Still, it meant that Ava¡¯s stalker wasn¡¯t anywhere near as dangerous as I thought.


    ¡°What matters most is that Aegis Tech is going to be docking soon, and the Triumvirate is going to be there as soon as it does,¡± O¡¯Reiley said. He shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s all a little convenient that they know, too, maybe ¡®cause they¡¯ve got their own informant in there as well, but I doubt it.¡±


    ¡°Your informant is a supervillain,¡± I said. They turned to me, quizzical. ¡°Highest bidder and all that, right? Isn¡¯t that how it works for us guys? Because that¡¯s how I usually work.¡±


    I figured that was a nice enough save, and I got the reaction from Ace that told me it was. ¡°Not ours,¡± he said flatly. ¡°Aegis and those fuckers probably shook hands under the table.¡±


    ¡°Meaning that it won¡¯t so much be a hijacking than a transfer of goods,¡± Ava said.


    My eyebrows creased. ¡°What would Aegis get from working with the Tristate?¡±


    ¡°Triumvirate,¡± Ace said. ¡°God, where the fuck did the boss scrape you up from?¡±


    ¡°Keep talking, superstar, and we¡¯ll spend the night rearranging those pearly whites.¡±


    Ava took a mug of tea from Mr. Campbell, who had taken on the duty of organizing a platter of cookies as we spoke. ¡°My best guess is simply for research. The weapons are probably untested, making them highly dangerous, too, both for the user and the victim. The Triumvirate gets a powerful and possibly new stock of weapons, and Aegis Tech gets their field research.¡±


    A beat of silence. Ava sipped her tea, as if unfazed, but I heard her heartbeat and the blood rushing past her ears. She was nervous, barely swallowing without choking on the hot liquid.


    But something didn¡¯t click with me. ¡°Why would Aegis even bother doing that?¡±


    This time, the one wearing black and red kevlar body armor spoke. They had been silent for the entire meeting, standing so perfectly still I thought they might have died on their feet.


    ¡°Because you don¡¯t try to get weapons approved by the ATF when you know it¡¯ll lead to public scrutiny and further investigations to what else you have in your inventory,¡± they said. I couldn¡¯t place their accent through the mask, with their voice coming out muffled. ¡°Any company would rather not have a permanent stain on their records when trying to attract future investors.¡±


    ¡°Bingo,¡± O¡¯Reiley said, nodding. ¡°Once the shipment goes to hell, then they can mark it up as stolen goods. When they¡¯re asked why they didn¡¯t dock in the upper east side like anyone else would, they¡¯ll just blame it on Mayor Blackwood for letting Lower Olympus go to shit.¡±


    ¡°Flimsy excuses, we know, but excuses nonetheless that¡¯ll deflect the blame,¡± Ava said.


    I was split down the middle on this issue, and I blamed the supervillains surrounding me. On one hand, stopping Aegis Tech from letting their cargo ooze into Lower Olympus would mean that whatever it is they had in store for the world would stay under wraps forever. But not stopping them, accidentally letting the shipment all go, would mean Olympia would be on the forefront for the battle against whatever gangs and guilds crept up from the influx of weapons. Imagine that, my face on the news every night as I took down another hideout filled with special-grade weapons. Gangsters scurrying away in terror as I exploded through the roofs of their warehouse, showering them with debris that would crush some, cripple others, but would make them understand that a new age of superheroes was on its way and I was going to be right there as the fucking poster girl.


    The tabloids would spin tails about me, and kids would pull their parents along whenever I flew over the city so they could get a good glimpse of me. This wasn¡¯t a supervillain, but it would be the beginning of becoming more than just the city-wide nuisance people seemed to think I was.


    And¡­ Well, maybe the Olympiad would let me join for free. It would mean I wouldn¡¯t have to dirty myself being surrounded by thugs and mercenaries and wannabe C-lister villains.


    But dealing with the shipment in just an hour¡¯s time dressed as this other person, this make-believe supervillain that another supervillain had created, would be rubbing salt in the wounds. What happened after we stopped the shipment? Would I really be dumb enough to give someone who knew my secret identity a cache of weapons that could possibly harm me?


    I had to probe for answers, something I wasn¡¯t used to doing. Most of the time as Olympia, people told me things without asking. Here, I was fishing for information. ¡°So what happens after we stop these guys?¡± I asked. ¡°We sell ¡®em and bag what we can before the SDU starts tracking them through the city? Or, you know, that superhero bitch tries to stop us from using them.¡±


    Ace smiled. My gut turned at the sight. ¡°We¡¯d have weapons so illegal that Mr. Logan ¡®Martial¡¯ Kissinger isn¡¯t afraid enough of the Golden Gal to hide what he¡¯s doing. You think docking a ship that big is easy, new kid? He could have flown it in. Driven it in. Hell, if he wanted to, teleporters are right here for the hiring. If he was afraid of dealing with Olympia, he wouldn¡¯t have made it hard for himself. He knows she¡¯s not a problem for him, and that explains this.¡±


    Who the fuck isn¡¯t afraid of getting caught by Olympia? I thought. It was such a new concept to me that I almost let my tongue slip to tell Ace to see how afraid I could make him.


    It was almost an insult that he was taking the easy route for something like this.


    Instead, I soaked in the words like a serious superhero would, nodding as the broader picture started coming into focus. In short, I simply had to follow orders. But I couldn¡¯t fully trust myself to make a decision on what I¡¯d do with the shipment as soon as we found it. Leaving an anonymous tip for Lucas was always a possibility, but then Ava would have no reason but to expose everything about me at the drop of a hat if I screwed with her organization and her plan. Though, if I thought about it, wouldn¡¯t it be somewhat of a good thing if I let the guns pour into the streets of Lower Olympus for Lucas, too? It would mean more funding for his department, more weapon allocations and technology they could use to track down supervillains and, importantly, more safety for the humans who wanted to party all night long without being afraid.


    Or I could just destroy all of the weapons and stop anyone from even thinking they could ever hurt me, I thought. It didn¡¯t matter who got the weapons¡ªsomething so dangerous that a retired superhero like Logan Kissinger could wave away any form of concern was¡­ worrying.


    Not entirely, though. At least, that¡¯s what I convinced myself to believe.


    I was still Zeus¡¯ daughter. The heir to a throne that didn¡¯t exist. The freaking humans couldn¡¯t have made a weapon to harm me, right? No, I doubted they had the guts to even try.


    ¡°Ace isn¡¯t entirely wrong,¡± Ava said. ¡°Besides, the price of such weapons would be beyond anything anyone would be willing to pay, so there wouldn¡¯t be a point in selling.¡±


    I folded my arms, still hovering, that bit higher above the villains around me. Mr. Campbell offered me tea and a chocolate cookie, but I waved him away. Eating would mean taking off the ski mask, and Witchling was watching me from the rim of her steaming black mug, ever curious of me. ¡°So we¡¯ll just keep the guns and use them against who, exactly? Whatever their name is would just retaliate if we used the weapons Aegis are bringing into the city against them.¡±


    O¡¯Reiley grinned, showing off tobacco yellowed teeth. ¡°I like you, new kid. You¡¯re smart, but not experienced. If we get the weapons, assuming they¡¯re more than just special-grade rifles, it¡¯ll be a deterrent to the Triumvirate. Fuck with us, and we might just blow a hole through you.¡±


    I tapped my fingers against my bicep, a little annoyed. Scratch that, very annoyed. ¡°Fear would just make them push back against us.¡± And it would mean more chaos, more damned noise to deal with. Ava would benefit, of course, as she picked up the pieces her eventual escalation of violence would create in Lower Olympus. More territory. More people needing her gang''s protection as it all fell apart. I would also benefit, but late nights of saving civilians I otherwise put in danger wasn¡¯t something I was planning to do with my free time this summer. I wouldn¡¯t be the reason for that.


    Ace shrugged nonchalantly. ¡°On the other hand, all that the Golden Gal does is make us fear her. She kills us like freakin¡¯ roaches so we scurry around in the dark, checkin'' over our shoulders every five-fucking-minutes, looking for those damned golden eyes, and hell, look at where we¡¯re hiding. There''s a goddamned reason we only go out at night; at least that way it saves us from the embarrassment of getting killed in broad daylight.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not hiding,¡± Ava said. ¡°The Golden Guild is a safe-house¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯ll protect us,¡± he said, interrupting her. The room silenced. ¡°I know all about the¡­ things your father used to do to make sure this place protected its own, but he¡¯s gone now, and that¡¯ll fade, and when the ceiling falls and that goddamned superhero shows up, we¡¯d just be as scared as the roaches we still find living in the ensuites above our heads, hoss.¡± He leaned against the table, then pointed at me. ¡°Got that, new kid? Fear works. Sending a message works. If it didn¡¯t, then we wouldn¡¯t be here. That blonde bitch might not be smart, but she knows a thing or two about being a villain.¡±


    My mouth dried. ¡°Olympia¡¯s not a villain. She¡¯s a freaking superhero.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s because we grew up in different generations,¡± Ace said, waving his hand through the air as if to bat away my nonsense, ¡°but superheroes aren¡¯t meant to make you afraid of every gust of wind and glimmer of light in the night.¡±


    ¡°Well, maybe if you weren¡¯t a villain, you wouldn¡¯t be so freaking terrified of her.¡±


    ¡°For someone who¡¯s planning to join us in robbing a freight ship tonight, you¡¯ve got a lot to say about Zeus¡¯ little brat,¡± a merc behind me said. Several grunts of agreement. More deafening silence around me. I turned, watching as a woman with thin strands of brown hair, scars across her face, and a glinting black machete on her hip lit a cigarette. ¡°Not to intrude on your meeting, Ave, but where did you pick this little girl up, anyway? She¡¯s too green.¡±


    ¡°And maybe a little too starry eyed,¡± Ace added quietly, folding his arms.


    ¡°Just about the right kind of naive to call the SDU if it all goes to hell,¡± body armor said.


    Ava set down her mug, a sound that beat through the growing silence. Everybody in the warehouse was staring at me, their heartbeats all eerily steady. They were experienced, thinking with logic instead of outright emotion. Judging what I did next and how I did it. I glanced at Ava. She had her mouth full with a biscuit, watching me just as her army of mercenaries was. We had a deal, but she was expecting me to hold up my end of the slack. If I screwed up, it was on me, and if I fought these people (something that wouldn¡¯t last more than a minute), then I¡¯d be screwed.


    A part of me was disgusted that I let go of the simmering anger that had only grown when they called Olympia a villain. Like she was one of them but just a slightly different flavor. What she did¡ªwhat I did¡ªwas different. I killed because the villains needed exterminating, a line they knew not to cross so they would remain sterile and away from the civilians. These people killed and racketeered and smuggled because it was their way of life. Their second nature. Making other people afraid was the only way to keep their footing in a world that wanted them long gone.


    The world needed its one and only superhero, even if she didn¡¯t have anyone else willing to play heroes and villains with right now. Nobody ever needed a supervillain for anything.


    Because that¡¯s what you think this is, a game you play because you¡¯re bored. Witchling shook her head slowly, smiling at me as she sipped her tea. To be young and so naive again.


    I warned you the first time, don¡¯t speak through my mind again, I thought.


    She smiled at me, but didn¡¯t say anything else. I wondered how far her telepathy went, if she knew who I was behind the mask and the hair dye and the scowl. But if she did, then would she really have let me stay this long? Earlier tonight wasn¡¯t the first time Olympia had fought Witchling, and I doubted it would be the last. We never liked each other, and she wouldn¡¯t play ball with my faux supervillain ruse if she really knew who I was. I hoped so, at least. Dearly.


    I sighed, pushing a hand through my hair. ¡°Sue me for defending a superhero. We shouldn¡¯t underestimate her, is what I¡¯m saying, and calling her a villain doesn¡¯t make us the same. But it won¡¯t change the fact I¡¯m still gonna be here to wipe out anyone who points a gun our way.¡±


    "The girl does have a point," Damsel said, a hand on her hip, half-chewed cookie in her mouth. "We ain''t the same. She''s worse. At least when we kill, we own up to it. Olympia, well, I''ve seen the way she smiles; I doubt she even cares. Caution''s the name of the game, ya''ll. Take it from a thief."


    I... didn''t know if I should thank a supervillain for having my back, but I didn''t return her playful smile either. And yes, I did think about the people I killed.


    At least, I thought of how much of a pain they would be to get out of my hair the next morning.


    Silence followed, even louder than before. Then Ava smiled. ¡°I¡¯d hope for nothing less.¡±


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t exactly fill me with confidence,¡± the merc woman said. Her voice was thick, done in by years of unfiltered cigarettes. ¡°You¡¯re gonna have to earn your stripes before I trust you, new kid. No harm, no foul, but keep your ideas in that head before we pop it open and check what you really think.¡±


    ¡°Before any of us do,¡± Ace said. ¡°No better way to start than wading in the mud for us, though.¡±


    I shrugged, folding my arms and looking at him. "Let''s see if you survive the night, then we''ll talk about trust."


    Ace simply smiled, chewing on the end of his toothpick.


    The woman slapped my back. To play down how strong I was, I faked an awkward stumble. ¡°Hope you¡¯re ready to kill if it comes down to it, just like you promised. ¡®Cause that¡¯s what we do, it¡¯s not like in the comics. More body parts. More screaming.¡±


    I swallowed my words, close to telling her not to put her filthy paws on my shoulder, but instead I said, ¡°Then I can¡¯t wait to show you what the inside of a human body looks like. A lot less blood, but a lot more guts and broken bones than in the movies.¡±


    She smiled, the kind I was sure dozens of people had seen before she slit their throat.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it wonderful that we¡¯ve all agreed to work together?¡± Mr. Campbell asked. ¡°Now, we should get going. I hear a storm is on its way, and I¡¯d hate to get my fur wet so late at night.¡±


    O¡¯Reiley raised his voice and said, ¡°Ten minutes pack up, five minutes warning to get out of here. I want you all stationed as planned. Escape routes, eye witnesses, all of it dealt with.¡±


    ¡°What should we do with civies?¡± asked the merc woman. She glanced at me. ¡°I figure the new girl might want us to help them across the street and tell them the gunfire is just fireworks.¡±


    A few of them snickered as they moved crates into idling trucks. I didn¡¯t answer, just in case my tongue decided enough was enough. Instead, Ava spoke up for me. ¡°No point in hurting them. We¡¯re acting on the knowledge that the Triumvirate won¡¯t know we¡¯re coming. Less noise and less interaction with anyone who¡¯ll see or hear us, then the better for our chances tonight.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know if she said that to satiate me, or to toy with me, but I took the small win.


    ¡°What about me?¡± I asked. ¡°What the hell am I supposed to do?¡±


    Witchling took my arm in hers, a move so sudden it was as if she had appeared right beside me in the blink of an eye. Her skin was cold, as if I¡¯d just pressed my forearm against a meat locker. You¡¯ll be coming with me, she said in my head. We¡¯ll be working as teammates. Isn¡¯t that exciting?


    ¡°What did I tell you about doing that?¡± I growled. ¡°Do you want me to kill you?¡±


    She smiled that thin, haunted, disgustingly beautiful smile. If you keep going the way you are, you¡¯ll have no problem blending in. We can make a supervillain out of you yet, Tempest. I''m sure of it.

 Issue #8: Who Knew Dead People Hit So Hard

    I couldn¡¯t remember the last time I was inside of a sewer system, and now that I was standing above a rusted, circular drain cover, my stomach turned at the smell brewing just beneath it. The wind had picked up around the bay, sweeping mist into the streets of Lower Olympus. The storm Mr. Campbell smelled earlier was on its way; I could sense it in my bones and smell the distant stink of ozone creeping closer in the atmosphere. Nights like this were never fun to fly through, especially because criminals never seemed to get the memo that fighting in the cold wasn¡¯t fun for anyone involved. I always figured comics blew the dark and rainy night atmosphere out of proportion, but being surrounded by supervillains and a mercenary as the moon watched from just behind a tuft of darkening clouds was so on the nose I almost found it a little funny in all honesty.


    But I couldn¡¯t smile underneath the mask on my face; not with the wind so bitterly cold against my skin. Over my shoulder and across the city, the towering black skyscraper of the Olympiad stood watch over New Olympus. Not far from it, dad¡¯s statue stood in the bay.


    Keep running around in your father¡¯s shadow, and see where that¡¯ll take you.


    I shook my head. It wasn¡¯t the time to think about Veronica. Or dad, either, for that matter.


    These kinds of nights were made even less enjoyable by wading through the stench of the New Olympus¡¯ foul underbelly. Dark spaces and I weren¡¯t a good mix, and I apologize for hating being trapped in them ever since I learnt how to fly a few years ago. You would also start to hate small spaces if you were in my shoes, too. I didn¡¯t sign up for flying through a sewer with Zeus-knows what else down there. Then again, I put myself in this mess, in these clothes and this suffocating mask, and I was going to see it through until the very end. Well, until I saw fit.


    Just until you get enough money to get into the Olympiad. Until you get your statue.


    ¡°Run this by me one more time,¡± I said to O¡¯Reiley, watching as he checked and re-checked his assault rifle. ¡°Why can¡¯t Damsel just teleport us onto the ship and skip this part?¡±


    ¡°Because,¡± he said, fitting a mask to his face, ¡°Damsel can¡¯t go to places she¡¯s never seen before. She already has her hands full making sure the rest of our gear is ready in a heartbeat. If this all goes to shit, she¡¯ll be there¡ªbut that doesn¡¯t mean we should tire her out. The rest of the teams will make their way there through other sewer lines to avoid detection, as well as abandoned train routes along the bay; we just have it a little harder because we¡¯ll come out right underneath their feet and about a dozen feet away from the ship. Thank God for poor waste treatment.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, thank God we¡¯re gonna have to wade through shit,¡± I muttered. ¡°Can¡¯t wait.¡±


    He slapped my back. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit, kid. Keep it up and we¡¯ll be done in no time.¡±


    ¡°Could you be any less serious?¡± Knuckles¡ªformerly body armor¡ªgrowled.


    ¡°Any more serious and you¡¯ll be dead in a casket,¡± he said. ¡°Lighten up before we get to the hard part. Then we won¡¯t have any time at all to think otherwise. T-minus ten ¡®for Damsel gets going with a few of the trucks. If you¡¯ve got any more to say, save it until she¡¯s done ¡®porting.¡±


    I¡¯d never read up on Damsel, to be fair. She wasn¡¯t a villain that frequented New Olympus enough times in a year for me to consider figuring out a way to beat her in a fight. Europe was her playground, judging by the number of forum posts drooling over her, and the neck-beards who were desperate to figure out where she got her start, and if she and Ace were actually a thing or not. The modern day Bonnie and Clyde, tabloids called them. Heists. Jewelry theft. Bank robberies. Shoplifting. That was her gig, but I guessed she¡¯d never actually had to push her powers to this extent before. She can¡¯t teleport heavy loads multiple times, I thought. Once or twice, depending on the distance, too. I filed that information for later. I¡¯m sure Lucas would love my valuable intel. I could just about see the twinkle in his dead-pan green eyes right about now.


    ¡°We¡¯re in position, ready on your mark,¡± the merc woman said from O¡¯Reiley¡¯s earpiece. He tapped it, then said, ¡°Follow the GPS and rendezvous in your allocated areas. ETA in ten.¡±


    We were spread out near the Lower Olympus dock, about a stone throw (for me, anyway) from Patriot Broadwalk. From what I scraped together, we¡¯d be using the sewer tunnels to get into the port, quite literally sneaking in underneath their noses and, like O¡¯Reiley said, come out near the rocky shore, and infiltrate the ship as it docked. Smugglers kept the sewers relatively easy to access, and we¡¯d be avoiding the parts clogged with rubble and whatever else superhumans didn¡¯t want anyone finding down there. Storming in was a no-go, apparently, because Triumvirate thugs were already there, trucks idling and scouts poised in the dark, watching, from what I¡¯d been able to scope out in the sky. It hadn¡¯t stopped me from arguing my case that I could take them out on my own. ¡°Then what?¡± O¡¯Reiley had said. ¡°Get the Olympiad''s attention?¡± Which¡­ I¡¯ll admit, just this once, that the Normal had a point on his part. I needed to stop thinking like Olympia.


    But the last thing I wanted to do tonight was fight an S-Grade Cape. I was dressed like a villain tonight, sure, but I wasn¡¯t going to sully my hands with whichever poor superhuman got the call. Superheroes don¡¯t kill superheroes, and even if Lucas thought I wasn¡¯t that great at being one, I still had my standards. It would have to be quick and silent, efficiently deadly. Fill the abandoned alleyways of the dockyard when they don¡¯t suspect anything, and be ready to take them out when the time comes. They didn¡¯t know we were here, so close I could smell the aftershave on their jaws and the sickly sweet smell of gunpowder in their special-grade assault rifles. And, I had to admit, a spike of adrenaline was coursing through my bloodstream, making my shiver with energy.


    Ronnie would have been calling me off the hook right about now, I thought, stepping backward as Witchling snapped her fingers and turned the drain cover into gray mist. Just like that time our bus got hijacked on the trip to the Grand¡­ I bit my tongue and tasted blood. No, Ry, enough¡ªfocus on the here and now, not on what I used to do. No more games. No more stray thoughts. It was time to get serious and actually help clean the streets of Lower Olympus.


    By dressing like a villain and scurrying around in the dark like filth, I reminded myself.


    I swallowed past the lump in my throat and squared my shoulders. The brew of stenches slithered down my throat and into my lungs, making them burn. Making me focus. I was first in, making sure my brain didn¡¯t have a single moment to linger on any other thoughts. Witchling followed, standing on a piece of concrete she ripped from the grimy, graffiti-covered sewer wall. Knuckles¡ªwho I¡¯d learnt had an actual name, but I hadn¡¯t bothered to remember it¡ªwas next, leaping down the hole and onto the rusted platform. I expected a thudding impact, something that would echo down the tunnel. Instead, it was as if they had stepped on cotton. They made no sound at all, even as they stepped back to let O¡¯Reiley climb his way down the rusted ladder beside me.


    Maybe Knuckles had some kind of super strength, the kind that¡­ Hell, I didn¡¯t know. That field of distortion still resonated around their body, almost invisible in the shadows around us.


    I studied them for a moment, catching a glint of the white irises behind their mask. I wondered who was beneath the kevlar, if they were tougher than an average human usually was.


    But what difference would it really make? They were still human at the end of the day.


    Finally, O¡¯Reiley dropped down with a thud of his own. He started forward, we followed. The sewer water was shallow and dark, grimy and stuffed with junk that flowed beside us. We passed several maintenance hatches, each of them owned by splashes of graffiti. The distant stink of a kaiju lingered in the air, maybe from scales or fur littering the catwalk beside the sludge river. It made sense for monsters to hide in the dark, scurrying around underneath the city. It started to make more sense why I never got to see any out in the open. Seemingly neither did they, with that symbol of theirs¡ªa blazing snake devouring its own tail, encircling the globe¡ªcarved into the moss-covered bricks all around us like some silent warning. A threat. A promise to steer clear of them. The lights were busted. Man-hole covers were sealed from the inside. The place reeked.


    Whatever the Kaiju Society was up to down here wasn¡¯t my problem for now. They never bothered anybody, except for scaring a few kids who stayed up playing in the streets way after the street lights came on in the evening, and the poor parents who gave birth to a half-human, half-animal hybrid, so I never really bothered paying ¡®em a visit. Only the ones who snapped caught my attention¡ªthe ones so twisted and consumed by pain and anger and beastial rage that tore up buildings and homes were worth my time and effort. Hell, I missed my own graduation because a cannibal (Man-Eater, that¡¯s what he called himself) was tearing up small towns in Oregon. That had been a very, very long flight home. One I didn¡¯t like to think about too often.


    I don''t get nightmares that much anymore, but seeing a kid get eaten alive sticks with a girl.


    But the Kaiju Society had been quiet recently. No large attacks. No rallies in the streets.


    Maybe a little too quiet, but I would rather them being quiet than a pain in the ass.


    What looked like the corpse of a rat caught my attention. It was bloated, belly fat with who-knows what kind of bacteria. Its sharp little nails and tiny yellow teeth shone in the dim subterranean light as it floated along the river of waste. Fungi grew from its mottled, gray skin, poking from its fur like the pudgy fingers of a child were ripping apart its flesh with its bare hands.


    I didn¡¯t really know if fungi was meant to grow out of animals, but I looked away before my nose could lock onto the ripe smell of decay undoubtedly oozing out of the poor little rat.


    Hm, I heard Witchling say in my head, an echoing sound. How peculiar.


    Never seen a dead rat before? I thought. Kill a superhuman, and that¡¯s what they look like.


    Not this death. She used her powers to pick up the rat, making it float beside her as she pulled the fungi from its flesh, coming off with a suckling pop. I¡¯ve studied death; this is not her.


    ¡°Witchling, Tempest,¡± O¡¯Reiley said. His voice was hurried, sharp and silent. He jerked his head to follow. ¡°You can stare at dead mice all you want later. We¡¯ve got tunnel to cover now.¡±


    Witchling snapped her fingers, making the rat disappear in the blink of an eye. The smell lingered, and so did her pinched gaze at the tiny pink fungi¡ªflowering, I noticed¡ªon her palm. Her fingers curled into a fist, and the pink fungi dissolved into smoldering white ash. Her lips parted as she muttered something, but it was wordless, maybe some prayer to whatever god she thought created something as evil as her, so I didn¡¯t catch what she said as I caught up with him. More rats below me in the vile river of sludge, each of them with fungi growing from their mouths and eyes and along their spines. I saw one of them twitch, its tail flicking before freezing still.


    ¡°You¡¯re pretty confident for a guy with no powers,¡± I said quietly, flying beside O¡¯Reiley. I didn¡¯t like having Witchling behind me, but I guess we were teammates now. A momentary truce.


    I think he shrugged, but I wasn¡¯t sure under all that kevlar. His rifle was poised, notched into the crook of his shoulder and chest. A flashlight on his shoulder illuminated the darkness for him. ¡°Superhumans aren¡¯t as scary as Fox makes y''all out to be. Hell, I wouldn¡¯t be in this business if I was scared shitless of every Super that I crossed paths with, so yeah, that¡¯s why.¡±


    ¡°And how many superhumans have you crossed paths with?¡± I asked.


    We turned several corners before he answered me. ¡°Enough.¡±


    ¡°Put any in the dirt?¡± I said, flying underneath a hissing pipe.


    ¡°I don¡¯t keep count,¡± he said plainly. ¡°What¡¯s the point?¡±


    ¡°Well, I figured someone like you would be proud of it,¡± I said. ¡°Kicking ass and taking names and all that. I bet you notch your rifle with the number of Supers you¡¯ve zeroed.¡±


    He turned to me. I couldn¡¯t see his entire face, just his narrowed eyes. ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡±


    I shrugged, stopping when we hit a junction that went left and right. Floating upside down, I checked over his shoulder as he looked at the GPS, then followed as he continued right. A part of me thanked whoever made humans for making them a little slow; it made flying at this pace easier, less energy consuming. I needed what I could get for what was coming our way. ¡°Because you wear that scar on your face like it¡¯s something you¡¯re proud of,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s a badge of honor.¡±


    He grunted, ducking underneath a patchwork of pipes. ¡°I got this scar when I was a kid.¡±


    I frowned a little. ¡°That¡¯s not a great origin story. Makes you sound less intimidating.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing less intimidating about a Normal who kills superhumans,¡± Knuckles said. Their voice was hoarse, muffled by the mask. ¡°Much less with his bare hands and a smile.¡±


    I could just about see his cheeks enlarge with a grin. ¡°Gonna make me blush, Steel.¡±


    You¡¯re talkative for a girl supposedly new to this, Witchling said in my mind. It felt like an itch I couldn¡¯t scratch, or like a fly that wouldn¡¯t leave me alone. Afraid, maybe, of getting hurt?


    If you think I¡¯m talkative because I¡¯m afraid, then you¡¯re as stupid as I thought.


    Witchling hovered beside me as O¡¯Reiley slowed and tapped his ear piece. Her dark, almost ebony eyes fit perfectly in the dark, hollowing her porcelain skin and turning her face ghastly pale. This isn¡¯t your first time hunting people down, is it? No, you¡¯re not green, are you? With an attitude so relaxed, and at a time like this, you¡¯re much more experienced than you let on. I wonder, I wonder, who you are behind that mask. A secret for a secret, only if you remove it?


    I jabbed my finger into her chest; she barely moved. ¡°Stay out of my head.¡±


    Witchling shrugged. I suppose, for both of us, that¡¯s a good idea.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    What? ¡°And why¡¯s that a good idea?¡±


    Because your skull is¡­ Well, hard to breach.


    I scowled at her. ¡°Did you just call me dense?¡±


    She waved her hand through the air. Inhumanly so, yes.


    ¡°Who the f¡ª¡±


    O¡¯Reiley held up his fist for silence, cutting me off.


    A body was floating on the sewage, bloated in the cheeks, gray in its thin flesh. It was riddled with scars in strange circular shapes all over his body, like he had been livestock branded by a white hot iron stamp. My first time seeing a dead body was way back in high school; Tanner Kent, a football player, had accidentally slipped and smashed his skull against the edge of the stairs. At least, to the people who couldn¡¯t see the person who shoved him, that¡¯s what it looked like. I had known someone was there, someone behind him that was invisible to the Normals in the hallway screaming their lungs out. That was the first time I felt my powers trying to break through in my bloodstream¡ªI sensed a superhuman. It was an itch I couldn¡¯t scratch, a rash that wasn¡¯t on my skin but just beneath it, impossible to reach. Being around superhumans was irritating, but it saved me countless times. Sensing superhumans was a power I never told anyone I had, just because it was bizarre to explain why humans felt different from superhumans.


    The test people took around puberty to check if they had the potential to become a superhuman wasn¡¯t even that accurate, so nobody would ever give me the time of day to explain why some kid just happened to know how to tell the difference when billion dollar companies couldn¡¯t. Plus explaining it to anyone would mean exposing who I was to the world. A no-go.


    But even in death, I could always tell the difference between the two.


    Superhumans were a pain in the neck to kill. Naturally a little stronger, more durable to anything you threw at them. Humans, on the other hand, were just humans at the end of the day.


    Naturally, that meant superhumans didn¡¯t usually look so mangled and ravaged. As far as I knew, there weren¡¯t that many S-Grade villains lurking around New Olympus to do this.


    Witchling seemed just as surprised¡ªand intrigued, judging by her staring¡ªat the body.


    ¡°What the hell could do that?¡± I whispered. We were close enough to the exit of the sewer line for silver streams of moonlight to just about illuminate the body¡¯s empty eye sockets. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think this would be your first corpse,¡± O¡¯Reiley said quietly.


    I shook my head, hovering closer. I was right, that feeling was all over my skin. A superhuman. It had to be. ¡°You¡¯re right, it¡¯s not. But what the hell are all these symbols?¡± I looked at Witchling, who had taken a keen interest in the cadaver as well. ¡°Know anything ¡®bout them?¡±


    I suppose the name doesn¡¯t lend me any favors, does it?


    I glared at her. ¡°Just answer the question.¡±


    Possibly, she said. But there are things in this city better left untampered with.


    ¡°Yeah, and what the hell does that mean?¡± I said. ¡°Look at the state of this guy.¡±


    It means, Tempest, that some questions are best answered by not asking them.


    Before I could ask what she meant¡ªwhat she really meant, because her eyebrows had lowered, sharpening her darkened eyes as she searched the shadows surrounding the sewer exit¡ªO¡¯Reiley approached the rusted iron grates separating the bay and the sewer line. The bloated corpse pushed against it, as if trying to escape from the stench around us. He tapped his earpiece, listened to something, then nodded at Witchling. The body wasn¡¯t his problem right now, and I guessed it wasn¡¯t anyone else¡¯s problem the moment Witchling waved her hand and turned the metal bars into silver mist. Trash spilled from the sewer, regurgitated into a shallow pool that oozed into the frothing ocean. I flinched as the body tumbled down onto the rocks, limbs loose, head whacking against slick black stones. I wiped the sour look off my face after a moment.


    I saw Knuckles staring at me from the corner of my eye. I folded my arms and squinted my eyes to where O¡¯Reiley was pointing, ignoring Knuckles¡¯ searching gaze. He was pointing far to our left, where the darkness was the thickest, and the largest blotch of it was hunkered in the water. We must¡¯ve been dozens of yards from the dock, right where O¡¯Reiley said we would be. So close that the echo of voices was muffled by the waves crashing against the titanic black cargo ship.


    I frowned, narrowing my eyes more. Why was it still so dark? Shouldn¡¯t I be able to¡­


    I flew past O¡¯Reiley and onto a jutting rock face, landing softly and lowering myself into a crouch. I pinched the bridge of my nose, then tried again. Something was cloaking the ship, like a living shadow was crawling from the belly of the ocean and swallowing the ship whole. The lights were off, sure, but that shouldn¡¯t be a problem for me. The Triumvirate mercs wore night goggles, each of them with headsets on their faces, meaning they wouldn¡¯t attract any attention by switching on the industrial generators. No lights. No sounds. Muffled and dim, like I was staring into the black, soundless molasses where nightmares lived. A superhuman, someone powerful enough to cloak an entire freight ship. I doubted it would pop up on a radar, considering how powerful a superhuman would have to even have that kind of power. I almost smiled behind the mask.


    On the other hand, my skin still felt irritated. I scratched my arm involuntarily, calming a feeling I hadn¡¯t felt in years. I¡¯d say it was excitement, adrenaline, not twitchy nerves.


    I didn¡¯t get nervous, not anymore.


    Where have you been hiding? I thought, as O¡¯Reiley climbed the slippery rocks and crouched beside me. I can¡¯t wait to see who¡¯s packing that much power. Finally, some fun.


    ¡°Superhumans,¡± I said to him. ¡°They¡¯re all over that ship. And a powerful one, too.¡±


    ¡°How can you tell?¡± Knuckles asked. Again, they hadn¡¯t made a sound climbing the rocks, nowhere near the sounds O¡¯Reiley made. ¡°It looks pitch black to me right now.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s like a feeling in my gut. I just know they¡¯re there.¡±


    ¡°How many would be nice to know,¡± they said, voice nearly a growl.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t work like that,¡± I said. ¡°But I could throw you over there so you can tell us.¡±


    They remained silent, warped aura pressing against my skin as they balled their hands.


    ¡°Not surprised superhumans are on that ship,¡± O¡¯Reiley whispered, lowering his night vision goggles. ¡°Other squads are getting ready. Two teams got stuck dealing with blockages.¡±


    ¡°We need to move now,¡± I said. ¡°I can hear them opening containers.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a process to what we¡¯re doing,¡± O¡¯Reiley muttered. ¡°You go in there right now, you¡¯re blind, and our cover is blown. No Capes. No alarms. Letting them do the heavy lifting means we¡¯re not going to waste time having to shift all that weight ourselves. Less meandering.¡±


    Maybe it was seeing the dead Super and looking so closely at the pentagrams carved so deep into their flesh, but I was on edge. Put off by something close to us. Was it because of the freight ship? I couldn¡¯t smell a single person on its deck, and could barely hear the sounds of creaking containers and boots on concrete. The Triumvirate was here, I saw them from above several minutes ago, but I couldn¡¯t even sense them. I felt¡­ blind, like someone had put their hands over my eyes and told me to try to see through their fingers. My senses picked up enough from the ship dozens of feet away from me, but it was more like a guess than knowing something was there. Hell, if I closed my eyes and focused, I doubted I would even know a ship was there.


    C¡¯mon, I thought, pressing my fingers into my bicep. If dad could do it, so should¡ª


    A fifth heartbeat joined our four. Irregular. Stuttered. Weak. But right here with us.


    A split second, and I glanced behind me. The cadaver lurched, arms jerking, torso snapping upright as it lunged toward us. It took my brain a second to readjust, to realize what was flying through the air toward me. A body¡ªa dead fucking body. Mouth slit open into a garrish grin, eyes wild and empty. Then I acted, bursting upward from my crouch and catching the corpse mid-air in my hand. I held its face, squeezed my fingers into its pasty flesh and brittle skull. It kicked and squirmed and tried to speak, but I figured that was hard to do with its head being crushed in my hand. Under pale moonlight, I noticed the stitches crossing its throat and splitting its chest in half. Hell, a part of me guessed I could pull the bloody thread and pour its guts out into the ocean. But¡­ I couldn¡¯t. Dead bodies don¡¯t just come back to life. No supervillain had that power.


    It was almost an insult, because some human was able to, and not dad?


    Plus it would mark two times in one night it happened. Two too many.


    A second later, and the rest of them caught up. They whirled around, seeing the wailing body in my hand. I saved them the hassle of asking questions by digging my free hand into its chest and ripping its head off its body. I let the body parts fall to the rocks below me.


    ¡°What the¡ª¡± O¡¯Reiley swore under his breath. ¡°Did that thing just come¡ª¡±


    ¡°Back to life, yeah,¡± I said, flicking my hands free of the sticky, foul-smelling blood. When did humans ever have black blood? ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter, anyway. Probably some villain¡¯s powers.¡±


    So that means¡­ That means I was wrong, he wasn¡¯t a superhuman. I glanced at the body, at the dead eyes deep in its skull. Maybe some leftover experiment by some villain nobody¡¯s ever heard of, at least, I hoped it was nothing more than that. But why could I still feel something¡ª


    I watched its flesh melt back together, grew sick at the sight of bones fusing and veins knitting together. Just like Ava, I thought, but unlike Ava, the body was done fixing itself in the blink of an eye, and a heartbeat after that, it was already lunging after me again. I ducked under its fist, grabbed its ankle, and threw it against the side of a jagged slab of rock. Brain matter. Blood. They flew through the air like I popped a human-sized balloon fat with decaying organs. For extra measure, I slammed my fist through the rest of its skull. Nothing. No movement. My fist dented the rock by about an inch. I blinked past the sweat dripping down my forehead. See? Not so hard.


    Like killing a cockroach that didn¡¯t die after the first time you stomped on it.


    My fist was engulfed in soft, greasy tissue, bones and brains and blood, too, as it reformed around part of my arm. Skin crawled up my bicep, and I jerked away, freaked by the sensation. But it didn¡¯t let go, grabbing hold of me as I flew backward in the air. I grabbed at the flesh, pulling and swearing, but it felt like gum, albeit warm, reeking of fresh wet blood and sweat. It had one arm free, the other writhing around me in snaking fleshy tendrils. It reared its arm back, and glinting white bone tore through its skin and jutted from its forearm. I swore as it slit the air just close enough to my ear to feel it nick my skin. It stabbed at my face, and I caught it in my one free arm. I tore it free, flipped the bone, and jammed it into the side of its still half-formed skull.


    It weakened for a moment, one I took to rip the damned thing clean off my body.


    ¡°What the fuck?¡± I snapped at Witchling. ¡°You just stood there and watched.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t look any worse for wear,¡± Knuckles said. ¡°Just dandy.¡±


    I thanked their bad eyesight in this level of darkness. Grabbing hold of the serrated shard of bone had sliced open my left palm. I could have healed it as Olympia, but using my powers would mean generating that damned golden bi-product electricity. I curled my fingers, making a fist, causing blood to ooze from the gaps between each of them. It hurt like hell, and I hated it.


    Would you have preferred I threw you into the rock face? Witchling asked.


    ¡°I would have preferred that you killed that damned thing,¡± I snarled.


    I didn¡¯t have time to answer as she flicked her finger and sent a rock no bigger than my finger zipping through the air and through the reformed body. Again and again, like the stone was a pissed off hornet, it tore through the body, spitting flesh over rocks and cutting bones like it was a knife through butter. The body staggered. Stumbled. Its knees slammed into the rock and the sewage, as if suddenly forced down by God himself. Its upper-body was nothing more than a mangled chest and one arm that dripped off the side of its torso like wax melting off the stem of a candle. Witchling snapped her fingers, and the stone vanished. She smiled at me. Even now, then.


    ¡°Oh, man, that hurt like hell!¡± a voice said. We collectively looked at the body and its morphing, mangled skin, and how it carried its own head. Its eyes were still glassy and pale, its teeth still lined by that vile black blood that poured from its open wounds. ¡°Kill me faster next time, woman. Well, I guess that¡¯s advice for if you get so much as another chance at it.¡±


    A shout from the darkness near the freight ship caught my attention. More containers getting loaded into trucks. More movement. Where were the other squads? Where was Damsel?


    O¡¯Reiley tapped his earpiece, craning his neck toward the ship. ¡°I¡¯m getting nothing.¡±


    The body put its head back on its shoulder, and I swallowed bile as I heard the crunch of bone being forced back together. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m just the distraction. Or was it the lookout?¡± He shrugged, a sight made more disgusting by seeing the muscles under his still forming skin work. ¡°That must be one of the other guys jamming your signal. Spoilers, that guy is probably me.¡±


    ¡°What the actual fuck are you?¡± I asked. ¡°I¡¯d recognize something like you.¡±


    He grinned. ¡°I¡¯m new to New Olympus. At least, this version of it.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck does that even mean?¡±


    ¡°Does it really fucking matter?¡± Knuckles hissed. ¡°We need to get to the ship now.¡±


    ¡°To meet up with the rest of your friends, right?¡± he said, hand on his hip. He waved his free hand through the air. ¡°There¡¯s nobody left to meet with you. I killed the rest of ¡®em.¡±


    I glanced at O¡¯Reiley. He was speaking into his earpiece, answered only by static.


    ¡°Well, which one is it?¡± I said, buying him time. ¡°Jammed signal or dead mercs?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know, kiddo, it doesn¡¯t really matter right now. Maybe both. Who knows?¡±


    I know what I said a second ago, but on the other hand, I couldn¡¯t help but catch him off guard. I shot through the air, and was in his face a moment later. My fist met the side of his jaw.


    And all he did was take the punch across his face. His head didn¡¯t break apart, and not even his skin tore and bled. He turned, a wild smile on his face, and swung at me instead.


    I ducked out of the blow, stepped back, and slammed my fist into his kidney. Nothing. A dull thud echoed through the air, reverberated up my arm and into my teeth. What the hell? I went low and swept his feet, spun in the air and slammed my foot straight into the center of his chest.


    Or I would have if he didn¡¯t roll out of the way. My foot smashed into stone and sewage, spraying me with both as I watched him through strands of my hair. He flipped onto his feet.


    He laughed, a shrieking, gloating sound that sounded like nails on a board. ¡°You¡¯re quick! And if you hadn¡¯t torn me apart earlier, I probably wouldn¡¯t have been able to eat that hook.¡±


    ¡°Tempest, Steel,¡± O¡¯Reiley barked. ¡°Take him out. Witchling, with me. Docks.¡±


    ¡°Why do I get stuck dealing with this freaking guy?¡± I asked, a little angry.


    ¡°Because if you think you¡¯re as good as you are, then he¡¯d be dead already.¡±


    Witchling raised him off the ground with her hand, and this time, spoke to me alone. Following the humans¡¯ orders isn¡¯t fun, I know, but we aren¡¯t here by choice. We¡¯re here because we want something, so you do whatever you can to get it. And I know you don¡¯t wish them well.


    So you can read my thoughts, I, well, thought.


    No, she said, lifting into the sky and toward the ship. More noise from revving trucks and banging crates. Boots beating against tarmac. Something had gone wrong. Just your intentions.


    And that¡¯s what you want as well?


    I¡¯ll tell you what I want when you join us on the ship. You believe you¡¯re the strongest, no?


    I know I am, I thought, tensing my jaw, looking down at the man and his violent, hollow smile.


    And sometimes the best kind of strength is refrain. It makes humans more afraid us.


    It took me several beats, but I got what she said: let them think they control you, let them get comfortable telling you what to do, even if they don¡¯t have the power to do so, but a part of me¡ªOlympia, I guessed¡ªjust couldn¡¯t stomach that. But I had to for now, just this once.


    Maybe that¡¯s why they were so terrified of dad after all the times he faced S-Grade villains and made them look like C-listers. Not because he was the most powerful person to ever walk the earth, but because he made them all think their laws mattered to him. He made them think they were powerful.


    Hope, I figured, was what Witchling was telling me was more powerful than fear, simply because you could take it away from the humans at any time.


    ¡°Well, they¡¯re no fun,¡± the walking dead-man beneath me said. ¡°But how about it, you two? How about I kill you this time?¡±


    Knuckles leaped down to the rocks beside me, silent as a gust of wind. ¡°Ever killed a dead person before?¡±


    I¡¯ve never teamed up with a supervillain to kill another supervillain before, I thought.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with,¡± I said, flexing my hand, feeling the skin that tore open on my knuckles when I punched him across the face. ¡°I can hear the trucks getting further away, and I don''t want to waste my time dealing with a sack of human organs with an attitude.¡±


    ¡°I guess it¡¯s time we earn our stripes, then,¡± Steel said.

 Issue #9: The Chase Pt.1

    I¡¯ll be the first to admit that tonight wasn¡¯t going as I hoped it would, not that I was used to being a normal teenager anymore and enjoying spring break like I probably should be doing. Bank robberies weren¡¯t anything new around here, least of all over the past few months when Lower Olympus seemed to fall apart in the space of a few weeks all of a sudden, but joining a gang and now fighting a thing¡ªhell, I didn¡¯t even know what to call him¡ªwas a few steps away from ridiculous. For crying out loud, I was standing beside a villain I had never even heard of before a few hours ago. But I figured it served me right for wanting to get into the Olympiad the easy way.


    I wasn¡¯t going to complain about it, anyway. Nothing¡¯s ever come easy around here.


    Just do what you have to so you can get what you need, I thought. Still, the muffled sound of gunfire was retreating into the night, and the shadow that had consumed the large ship was beginning to slip off the hull like wet paint trickling down a wall. We had to deal with this guy soon and fast, before anything else went to hell. Besides, without my full abilities on display, I would be darting into that mess handicapped, one hand quite literally tied behind my back.


    But¡­ Well, what kind of superhero would I be if I let this guy live?


    ¡°How should we do this?¡± Knuckles whispered, as the ocean¡¯s frothing waves lapped against the rocks just behind the man made of stringy flesh. ¡°I can take his left, then¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hey, Corpse Guy,¡± I shouted. ¡°Who did you say you were again?¡±


    ¡°The look out, I think, and the distraction,¡± he said, stepping closer. He was half-naked, with tattered trousers covering his lower half. I could see something shifting beneath his skin, like starving worms were wriggling around his bones and muscles and burrowing through his innards.


    I wanted to be sick, but vomiting in a mask wasn¡¯t fun from what I remembered, and the smell of his singed skin wasn¡¯t helping. I figured it came from those pentagrams carved into his body, littering his arms, back, and chest like the twisted scribblings of an asylum patient.


    What they were and what they meant didn¡¯t come to mind. I¡¯d never seen them before. Witchling knew, but she wasn¡¯t willing to spill her guts. I internally sighed, frustrated, because I would have to get some kind of leverage to get an answer from her, or maybe I¡¯d just have to tell Lucas as soon as I could, maybe figure out if he knew anything about¡­ what, some kind of cult that could bring people back to life? Did Ava have anything to do with it? Her dad, maybe? I kicked myself, guessing I should have paid a little more attention to the underbelly of Lower Olympus a lot more than just what the police scanner I had on my desk told me every night.


    On the other hand, New Olympus was a massive city that only got bigger and grander every year. There were too many nooks and crannies that Rylee Addams couldn¡¯t get into because she wasn¡¯t important enough or she wasn¡¯t rich enough or smart enough to get into, as well as too many shadows lingering around warehouses, rooms filled with Zeus-knows what, that if Olympia tried getting in, it would only be a bloody mess that Damage Control would have to mop up. I learnt the hard way that Olympia wasn¡¯t wanted everywhere in this city, making the job a lot harder than I thought it would be. I only ever flew through a wall when there were bad guys on the other side of it, otherwise, it wasn¡¯t worth collapsing some poor guy¡¯s apartment building.


    Either way, it was impossible to keep track of everything and everyone in this city. There were simply too few of me flying around to keep watch all day. The Olympians had it easy, because the world would tell them anything they wanted at a drop of the hat. All I had was Reddit.


    Gods, I loved my dad, but a heads up on what hid in the dark would have been nice.


    ¡°Why does it matter who he is?¡± Knuckles asked quietly. ¡°We¡¯ve got to deal with him.¡±


    I rolled my shoulders, hovering a little off the slick rocks. ¡°I figured I should give him a name before I put him away for good.¡± The slightest twitch of annoyance, something like eagerness, or angered, righteous anticipation, crossed his scar-riddled face. He said he was the look out and the distraction, and I had the slimmest theory on what that could have meant. If his body could come apart and come back together, then maybe he could make more of himself. It was outlandish, I knew, hearing it in my own head, but normal had gone out the window years ago.


    The only way to prove I was right was by taking him apart and separating his body parts, maybe to force him to create more of himself in a fight. Despite the sweat dripping down my forehead and smeared all over my back, I was almost¡­ excited. My heart raced, blood whined past my ears. Finally, someone I might actually have to think about fighting properly other than the usual, you know, hit a human so hard they stopped moving because they were missing their guts.


    Cadaver grinned wide, showing us his vile dental formula, and that fat black tongue sitting in his mouth. ¡°The more you stand around and look at me, the more the rest of your people¡ª¡±


    I cut him short by planting my fist right into his jaw. His teeth slit my knuckles as I snapped his head around. Tiny splinters of bone buried themselves into the broken flesh of my hand, sharp like jagged thorns. A grunt of surprise from both of us. Pain, brief and hot, shot up my arm. He staggered backward, spat out bits of black teeth, and didn¡¯t waste a second to lunge at me. I ducked, slipped out the way, using the water underneath my shoes to ease my escape. I watched him roll onto his arm, his back, then spring up to his feet like an acrobat, before swinging his arm through the air in front of him. For a moment, I thought he was going to bow and gloat again.


    Instead, he smiled, his dark, hollow eyes twinkling, and whispered, ¡°Got you.¡±


    The tiniest skittering sound caught my attention, like spent shells clattering on concrete.


    I glanced at my feet. The teeth he spat trembled, warped, cracked and¡ª


    Shards of bone burst into existence, fracturing the stone around my feet. I leapt backward, flipped through the air, landed, and pushed off my hands, avoiding bone fragments just as tall as me until¡ªFuck! Bone sliced through my shirt and across my side, sending pain roaring through my chest, like an iron poker gouging deep into my torso. The cut threw me off balance, stumbling me. Cadaver threw himself my way, forcing me to step back, dodge low, only to get caught by his foot smashing into the side of my face. The mask softened the blow. My jaw ate the impact. My head jerked around, and I threw myself away from him before he could lunge at me a third time.


    I used what energy I could spare and flew backward, rolling to a stop in a gasping heap.


    The shards of bone, jagged like the teeth of some darkness-shrouded monster salivating at the jowls, its maw wide, glittered with something dark. Something scarlet on their jagged tips.


    I got to my elbow, swallowed a swear word, and touched my ribs.


    My fingertips came back slick with blood. My blood.


    That¡¯s what you get for fighting like you¡¯re Olympia, I thought. Pain forcing against my side as I got to one knee, gasping with the effort, feeling like searing heat was oozing through the cut under my rib. I shook my head, then pressed my knuckles into the thin slice along my torso, pressed and pressed until the warmness of blood spread around my shirt and down my side.


    I kept my hand there till the pain made me woozy, crashing into my skull like the waves behind me, until it subsided. I couldn¡¯t heal as quickly like this. Couldn¡¯t use my full strength.


    I could try, sure, but what really was this guy if he was the lookout? Were there more of him, all somehow connected by those markings? If I used my powers to their fullest, this fight would have been over, but so would my charade because of what he might be hiding if multiple Cadavers were running around, able to communicate with one another somehow. I cursed Witchling for being so secretive about the marks. Hell, your guess was just as good as mine.


    Simply put, I couldn¡¯t risk it. I was Tempest tonight, and she wasn¡¯t going to die here, because if she did, then Olympia wasn¡¯t going out with a bang, but with a whimper in sewer water.


    ¡°The way you spoke, it made it seem like you were invincible,¡± Knuckles said, suddenly beside me. I hadn¡¯t even heard them get here. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look too deep. You¡¯ll live. Hopefully.¡±


    ¡°Thanks for the assist,¡± I muttered, standing. Grunting in pain, but standing.


    ¡°Like I said,¡± they said quietly, eyeing Cadaver as he slinked around the jagged shards of teeth sticking out from the rock, ¡°We need to think about this. Really think about this, right now.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m all open for suggestions, ¡®cause hitting him hard doesn¡¯t work anymore.¡±


    ¡°His body is his weapon,¡± they said. Knuckles dived to the side, and I did the same just as fast. Twin spears of bone whistled past us, impaling the rock face behind us. ¡°Cripple him.¡±


    Right, of course, because I was trying to give him a hug all this time.


    ¡°And how do you propose we do that?¡± I asked. Then gasped and buckled over, pain flaring in my side. I clamped my jaw shut to stop myself from groaning in agony. The cut wasn¡¯t any wider, or bleeding a lot more from what it last was, but his blood was mixing with mine, that foul black liquid that frothed and chewed at the edges of my fleshy wound. My skin was tinged green where his blood touched the gash, and it stank, too, of sickly flesh, like it was dead and rotting. I touched it, flinched, and watched, helpless, as my body tried desperately to heal itself.


    Knuckles whispered what I was thinking: ¡°What the fuck is he?¡±


    And why didn¡¯t it hurt this badly before?


    Cadaver laughed, a shrill noise that split the night and filled my ringing head with sound. Could he do this on purpose, turn it on and off like some switch? Gods, I hated supervillains. My head pounded with curses as I stood, my hand pressed against the gash. The tiniest flicker of golden electricity passed between my index and middle finger, a tiny jolt that felt like pouring frigid icy water on a burn. I breathed, relaxed, but the stink of flesh was still in my nose as I swallowed and glared down at the thing shouting obscenities at us. I could only generate the electricity with my hands; the rest of my body was here for the ride, to heal up on its own when I was at my best.


    But I wasn¡¯t at my best right now. For tonight, at least. I had to remember that.


    ¡°Makes you wish you wore body armor, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Knuckles said.


    ¡°My skin can tank a missile, smartass,¡± I said. ¡°His blood would boil you in that kevlar suit like you¡¯re soup in a freaking can. We should put him in the water, somewhere he can¡¯t do that.¡±


    ¡°Why not in the air?¡± Knuckles asked, gesturing. We stepped backward, watched as Cadaver yelled at us to, ¡°Come fight me, cowards!¡± and threw dozens of tiny bone fragments at us. They whistled through the air like sharpened needles, impaling the stones at our feet with enough force to flick bits of rock into the air as it cracked. We lunged away. ¡°He¡¯d be useless there!¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t fly long enough to deal with him.¡± I ducked, avoiding a spear wet with his black blood. ¡°Besides, even if I ripped him a new one, he¡¯d stick to me and burn me with his blood.¡±


    I had to think about this, more than I had in the past few years. Lucas, I remembered, always told me that everybody¡ªEven your old man, he¡¯d repeated time and again¡ªhad a weakness, and if it wasn¡¯t a weakness, then there was something that could stop them, make them hesitate. Pain was out of the question; Cadaver was a dead man walking, and his skin clung to his awkward, muscular body by who knew what, but maybe if we trapped him underneath something, then we could get out of here. I hated the idea instantly. Killing supervillains was the one promise I made dad¡¯s statue after he died, and backing down on it now would be a bruise on my ego.


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    But I didn¡¯t have time for my aching ego right now. Not when half of my city was going to get flooded with weapons possibly strong enough to hurt the likes of me. We had to end this.


    It was a good thing that I was a quick thinker, then¡ªand one hell of a superhero.


    I bounded away from a spear of bone that zipped past my ear and spat black liquid on my shoulder, burning holes through my clothes. I winced, grunted in pain. Cadaver, predictably, lunged toward me, his voice shrill, his teeth slits of sharpened bone. Two quick jabs, both blocked, returned with a hook to his jaw, a waeve, then I slammed my knee into his ribs. Felt a crunch. Grabbed him by the collar bones and smashed him into the side of the rock face. Knuckles was waiting, but Cadaver was ready, back on his feet in a second, punching a piece of their kevlar armor clean off their body with a single blow to the chest. I kicked his lower spine. He spun around. Knuckles punched the back of his skull. He roared in frustration, fury and anger.


    I didn¡¯t have time to figure out his real weakness, but pissing people off always worked.


    Bone covered his knuckles, and he swung at me. I gasped in pain as his hand slammed into my shoulder as I swiveled away. Numbness exploded through my arm. I shook it out, forced it out.


    Knuckles followed with a quick jab, swinging kick, then a blow to his manhood.


    Once he turned around and had his back to me, I took my chance and stepped back, swung around, pulled the spear out of the stone, and threw it as hard as I could at Cadaver. I saw his eyes widen, his face go white with surprise under the faint moonlight above us. He was quick, his muscles tensed to move; but the spindle of bone was quicker. It impaled him through the chest, sending him flying to the jagged bone spires he left erected on the rocks far below us, and then impaled him to the them with a sickeningly wet crunch. Seconds later, Knuckles leaped from the short cliff, landed soundlessly beside him, and with one swing, brought their fist to his face.


    I hadn¡¯t planned that part, but I was gonna take the credit for it, especially as I watched Cadaver¡¯s head explode into a fountain of bone and blood and what might have been his brain smeared across the rocks. It caught me by surprise at how much power Knuckles had behind their punches, enough that they left cracks spider-webbing around Cadaver¡¯s twitching body. A sound like thunder followed the impact, then the rocks fractured, their cracks snaking and growing, until a large chunk the size of a semi truck split away and collapsed into the ocean, dragging Cadaver with it. Knuckles bounded away, finding their way back to me with a silent grunt of effort.


    We watched as the sea swallowed him whole, its waves frothing as they chewed.


    Then silence. A long, uncomfortable silence as we watched the inky water still.


    I leaned forward, listening for the sound of his faint heartbeat. I struggled to hear anything except my own racing heart thumping against my chest. I didn¡¯t trust that he was dead, not yet. Still, I glanced over my shoulder, at the hulking ship sitting in the water, and the blurred burst of gunfire illuminating the darkness of the abandoned dock yard. The fighting was violent, silent, contained. Nobody wanted the Olympiad to send Capes to come and investigate, it would just screw us all over, and a part of me wanted to join that fight before the Capes eventually got here. All I really wanted to do was to just get the weapons to Ava¡ªnot to safety, I didn¡¯t trust her that much yet¡ªand get this night over with, but I couldn¡¯t go to bed knowing something like Cadaver was skulking around the streets of my city. From Knuckles¡¯ body language, I figured they thought the exact same thing: he wasn¡¯t dead yet, but we had to take our chance before he came back.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a plan,¡± I told them. ¡°I¡¯ll grab his body, and we get into the sewers. We¡¯ll collapse a part of it, maybe near the exit about a dozen feet from us, and trap him under the rubble.¡±


    Knuckles glanced at the foul tunnel, then back at the water. ¡°He¡¯d just escape.¡±


    ¡°And it would buy us time to get the hell out of here,¡± I said. ¡°Besides, if we collapse several tons of stone on him and make sure it all goes under water, he won¡¯t escape that quickly.¡±


    They shook their head. ¡°Don¡¯t you get it? His body is his weapon.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re sounding like a broken record here, Knucks.¡±


    Knuckles lifted their hand, and I winced at the sight of their mangled, meaty, well, knuckles. Another punch like that would probably shatter a few fingers. ¡°He gets harder to hit, gets faster, quicker, the more we attack him. Hell, I probably just screwed our chances some more.¡±


    Hold on, I thought. A bubble broke free from the water¡¯s surface, followed by dozens more. His body is his weapon, not because it actually is, but because it adapts to become better.


    I cursed. ¡°The more we fight him, the better the chances that he wins.¡±


    Knuckles nodded, silent as we watched the bubbling, angered waves.


    ¡°But if he can adapt, get stronger and stronger, then won¡¯t that mean¡ª¡±


    My answer came seconds later, bursting from the waves with a sharkish, vile grin smeared across his pale face. We didn¡¯t have time to react. He landed, swung his fist at me. I dodged, planted my palm into his gut, forcing him backward two steps. Knuckles¡ªusing their good hand¡ªslammed their fist into his liver. He stumbled. I kicked his knee, smashing my heel into his joint. A snap. A screeching curse. I staggered as I put weight on my foot, feeling a burst of pain go up my calf and into my thigh. Seconds wasted. Time I should have taken to block. Serrated blades of bone burst from his forearm, and he struck out, swinging wildly, catching me across the forearm as I threw my arms up to save my chest from being gouged open. Then pain. Lots of fucking pain.


    Then yelling, lots of yelling as Knuckles swung their foot in an arc and planted it into the side of his neck. And¡­ nothing. Cadaver stood there, stock still, turning his eyes to look at them.


    Neither moved. Knuckles tried stepping back, but Cadaver held them in place.


    He grabbed their leg, turned to force their blade through their shin.


    Then I lunged, desperate, and did what instinct told me to do.


    I tackled Cadaver, wrapping my arms around his waist, using as much of my flight energy as I could, and as much of my strength behind the violent grab as I could muster. I felt him wobble, step forward. It felt like I was hopelessly pushing a skyscraper off its foundation, but that¡¯s exactly what I needed, for him to move, then I jerked backward with flight, planting my heels into the rock, bracing my lungs and tensing my shoulder as g-force slammed into me, and heard the loudest snap of bone¡ªhis spine, I hoped, and not mine¡ªbreak through the night as his body suddenly whipped backward far faster than he was expecting. Whiplash, I called it, and usually humans would split in half from where I held them around their waists at this part, a damned bloody mess.


    Now, with a reeking, gray-skinned corpse draped over my quaking arms, Cadaver sagged over, his spine snapped in two, his neck broken in several places judging from how it hung.


    A fist of wind punched Knuckles away, sending them ass over heels as they rolled and came to a stop against the side of the broken sewer mouth. They grunted, coughed, and held a hand to their side. I couldn¡¯t pay attention to them, though, not with Cadaver jerking in my arms. Trying to fix himself, to swing his blade at me. ¡°Fu¨CFuck you!¡± He gurgled and spat, blood thick in his throat and undoubtedly flooding his lungs. Not for long, though. Not until he was healed.


    We had seconds to get him trapped, seconds slipping through my hands like the blood seeping from his wounds. It burnt my skin. It hurt like hell. I bit back pain behind my mask.


    ¡°C¡¯mon!¡± I said, hovering, then falling to the rocks. My head felt like a dozen pounds, and stars briefly flashed across my eyes. I shook my head, which did nothing except make me sick.


    Using up too much power, Ry. We¡¯ve still got to get the weapons back to home base.


    Gathering the strength I could, I hauled Cadaver¡¯s body onto my shoulder and leaped to the sawtooth-like plane of stones beneath the sewer mouth. Sludge poured out, dropping dead rats onto the rocks with a slap. I dumped Cadaver on a bed of broken stone amongst them, then looked at Knuckles. They were on their feet, the hazy blur still surrounding their body like a heatwave clinging to tarmac. I had an idea, and I¡¯ll admit, I hated relying on someone else for this right now.


    But if being Olympia taught me one thing, it was that losing just wasn¡¯t my thing to begin with, least of all to whatever the hell the thing jerking so violently below me was.


    I just didn¡¯t feel like losing, in all honesty


    And especially not tonight. Not after Lucas said I didn¡¯t take any of this seriously enough.


    ¡°Scared of heights?¡± I asked hurriedly, grabbing Knuckles¡¯ wrist. A force field, I realized, as soon as I met resistance touching their armor. Telekinesis, maybe? But only enough to cover their body, protect them and strengthen them. How much mental willpower did that even take?


    I guess we were about to find out.


    ¡°What? What do you mean am I afraid¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hit him, and hit like your life depends on it.¡±


    Before they could retaliate, and just as quickly as Cadaver gained enough strength to snap his head back on the correct way, I grabbed Knuckles, spun twice, and threw them high into the night sky. As soon as they left my grip, I fell to my knees, and clamped my hands on Cadaver¡¯s shoulders. I counted in my head, listening to Knuckles¡¯ scream slice through the night. Cadaver bucked, screamed my name and spat his vile blood at me. Five. I slammed my fist into his jaw. It did nothing but split my knuckles. Four. He kicked out, forcing himself on top of me; he punched down, and I dodged, avoiding a blow that cratered the rock. Three. I screamed out in anger, digging my thumbs into his eyes and forcing myself back on top of him, slamming his skull against the ragged rocks again and again. Two. Knuckles stopped screaming; they started falling. Fast. Cadaver pushed against me, his spine back in place, his black eyes wild with anger as he slammed his forehead against mine. Stars. Weakness. I slipped off him, he pushed away. Shitshitshit!


    One.


    Time slowed a fraction, enough for me to see Cadaver pull me back toward where Knuckles would slam their fist directly into his chest. I was underneath them, right there underneath Knuckles. Cadaver¡¯s grip was firm, furious and steady. His nails dug into my wrist, deep into my forearm. And¡­ I couldn¡¯t stomach it. Not here. Not like this. I grabbed the bone sticking out of his arm, slid my fingers into the folds of skin it protruded from, and yanked it clean out of his body. Shoved him away. Punched his jaw¡ªnothing. Perfect. I planted the spear of bone through his thigh, pinning him in place, then leaped backward, flipped and rolled, and¡ª


    Knuckles¡¯ punch landed, and the world seemed to split down the freaking middle.


    I¡¯d describe what I saw, explain what I felt and heard, but all I knew a second later was that a torrent of water dozens of feet high erupted from the ocean, swallowing me in its grasping hold. Crashing waves picked me up and slammed me against the rock face, knocking the wind out of my chest. I gasped, wheezed. The mask was trapping water. Clumsy fingers grasped for the clasp until it finally came loose and slipped off my face. I coughed, spluttered. I puked my dinner and tasted blood in my saliva as the waves receded and the rocky mouth of the sewer heaved into the ocean. The sound was loud, garish, violent as it got eaten by the black, murky water. The coldness of night bit my skin as I stood, mask in hand, searching the water for anything that remained.


    Knuckles had made sure nothing at all remained of the short cliff and the rock face¡ªyou¡¯d be hard pressed to think a sewer mouth was here in the first place. Nothing but chunks of rock floated in this new patch of ocean just beneath me, that and pieces of red and black kevlar body armor. Amongst them were shattered chest pieces, as well as a head gear floating away from me. Head gear with no body attached to it, and gear without its wearer strapped inside of it, either.


    I heard coughing and swearing, sounds that were nearly as loud as the low, arduous sound of the ocean dragging thousands of pounds of stone into its depths. As well as Cadaver, too.


    The coughing wasn¡¯t coming from a dead person come back to life, though.


    You wouldn¡¯t have guessed it from how pale Knuckles¡¯ skin was. Their hair was short and silver in the moonlight, slickened to their scalp. They were on all fours, hacking and wheezing, with only their bottom half covered in gear. The rest of them was open, except for thin black spandex ripped along their side and entirely shredded up one of their arms. I waited, watching, my mask in hand, as they finished coughing. They spat, wiped a hand on their mouth, then swore.


    Knuckles stood, staggering to their feet. Instinct nearly took over, making me want to turn them around and look them in the eyes and memorize their face. Instead, I threw them my mask.


    It clattered to their feet, and they glanced down at the floor. I caught the glimmer of blue eyes and a scar running along their throat before they turned away again. ¡°You nearly killed me,¡± they said so quietly it was as if they never spoke at all. ¡°That was foolhardy and reckless and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just put on the mask and let¡¯s go,¡± I muttered.


    Silence, then, ¡°What about you and your identity?¡±


    It was hard to describe the feeling in my chest, but it boiled down to one simple idea: being protective. I guessed it was that damned human part again, playing up on old scars. I saw their stance, so ready to fight to keep their secret, and hell, now that Cadaver was gone, I could smell things more clearly: dead fish, wet cement, and the pheromones of fear trickling over the scar around their throat. Having a secret identity, I had learnt, helped you keep your lives separate. It helped you understand what part of you was supposed to deal with which problem and when.


    But it also meant you could be someone else, someone a little stronger.


    Right now, I needed Knuckles at their best, and if they were going to keep sweating fear, keep being so tense and ready to fight or disappear into the night, then I had to keep them hidden. Sometimes it¡¯s easier to not look at yourself in the mirror, Lucas had told me years ago. Sometimes you want to think someone else is doing what you wouldn¡¯t dare dream of doing. As for me, I was used to being free-faced, not constrained by anything, and besides, that mask was beginning to feel a lot like a fucking muzzle.


    And I wasn¡¯t going to be Ava¡¯s little attack dog.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter,¡± I said, turning around to look at the ship, and indiscreetly give them room to pick up the mask and fit it to their face. I owed them that, at least. ¡°Let¡¯s get to being villains. I¡¯m at least half sure that we¡¯ve earned our stripes, and they look like they need us, anyway.¡±


    Silent as ever, Knuckles appeared beside me, folding their arms across a chest bound in tape. They ripped off what remained of their tattered under armor, but I wasn¡¯t going to spend time looking. I had enough problems to deal with. ¡°They¡¯re the professionals here, remember?¡±


    ¡°And so were the Olympians,¡± I muttered. ¡°But someone¡¯s gotta pick up the slack.¡±

 Issue #10: The Chase Pt.2

    You never really realize how heavy a person actually is until they¡¯re clutched so tightly around your torso it feels like they¡¯re actively trying to kill you. I had carried people before, of course, from burning buildings to first responders, away from supervillains trying to use people for ransom money against their families¡ªyou know, the usual stuff¡ªbut Knuckles was different, because she (at least, I guessed she was a she) had all the strength I wished I had, all of which she made sure to use in crushing my neck and chest in a death grip so perilous you would think I threatened her family. Who knew she was so afraid of heights? I just figured she screamed when I threw her into the air because she just wasn¡¯t expecting to be flung upward so quickly. But live and learn, right?


    ¡°You could ease up a little, you know,¡± I muttered, straining to keep us in the air. Flying like this, so weak, so lightheaded, wasn¡¯t fun for anyone. I dipped and jerked through the sky, uncoordinated, silly, with the inky expanse beneath us. I made the executive decision to keep us away from the gnarled black stones sticking out from the shoreline, just in case I passed out.


    That way, we could slam into the ocean instead of the jagged rocks.


    Knuckles didn¡¯t listen, and instead wrapped her arms tighter around my neck. I gasped a little. Dipped. I forced myself upward through the air. Closer to the ship now, to the dock illuminated by the muzzle flash of assault weapons. No Capes yet, and nothing from the police.


    A part of me felt sick hearing the shriek of Normals cut through the night, and I figured it wouldn¡¯t be long until someone came looking and brought the authorities right along with them.


    Nothing. Nobody was coming for now, least of all Olympia.


    The gloomy darkness was shattered by an exchange of furious gunfire that I heard slice through flesh and muscle and bite hard into bone. The putrid stink of tire smoke filled the air as armored vans weaved through the dockyard, screeching as they spun around corners. The shadows were still soupy and thick, clinging to the walls of warehouses like some thug preying on a victim. Maybe it was because I was a little low on energy, but even I couldn¡¯t see through them that well. That supervillain was still here, maybe inside one of those heavy duty vans. They¡¯d be the first target, just to make this game a little easier instead of sifting through the darkness for each of them.


    ¡°Then how¡¯s about you stop trying to kill us?¡± Knuckles growled, or tried to through a clamped shut jaw. Her eyes were just as pressed together. ¡°How much further? Answers. Now.¡±


    ¡°You could always just open your eyes,¡± I whispered to myself. ¡°A minute, maybe two.¡±


    ¡°I saw you fly much faster than this. Blink and you miss it. Are you enjoying this?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Knuckles, because I just love carrying flailing human beings across the ocean.¡±


    An explosion cut short whatever retort she had resting on her tongue. The flash came first, then the burst of heat a second later. I flinched as heat prickled against my skin and dried my throat. Witchling, it had to be, and hopefully that meant we were getting closer to the stolen shipment. Closer myself, now; close enough to fly over the silent, rotting cargo ship. It was barren and decaying, so old I was surprised it had even made it this far, or the ship didn¡¯t come from far at all and came from somewhere along the coastline. I made a mental note to come investigate it later.


    But the convoy of about a dozen armored trucks would have to come first.


    ¡°How¡¯re you feeling about getting thrown again?¡± I asked as I lowered through the sky, skimming towering stacks of archaic shipping containers. ¡°And a couple of more times?¡±


    She glowered at me, then turned her sharpened eyes away. ¡°Only if necessary.¡±


    Who are you, behind that mask? I thought. I expected an argument, but just like when I snatched her up into the sky, she complained, sure, but didn¡¯t fight me on anything I did.


    It was almost as if she was programmed to be some kind of soldier taking orders. A weapon who only knew how to act when there was a plan to rely on. I guess that put me in charge.


    Not the most comforting thought, even for me, but I had more to worry about.


    Whatever the case, we were catching up to the slowest bundle of three armored trucks racing away from the cargo ship. Three other clusters of armored trucks were racing off in different directions, trying and succeeding in spreading us thin. A truck full of Ava¡¯s mercenaries were on their tail, and there was something grimly ironic about being on their side compared to earlier tonight. I dipped through the sky, free-falling, making Knuckles dig her fingers into my shoulder. Triumvirate mercs fired a volley of bullets at us, their tracer rounds whistling past my ears as I zipped past them, their tendrils of wind stinging my face as they blurred past. I followed, turn after turn, closing ground until I was close enough to smell the fumes from both vans¡¯ exhaust pipes..


    Our mercs had a machine gun mounted on top of their van, but the guy who was supposed to be firing it was slumped over the side of its protective shell, missing a chunk of his skull.


    Great, illegal firearms, what¡¯s better than that? I thought, landing on our truck with a dull, heavy thud. Knuckles pushed off me, untangling her limbs from me and clinging to the machine gunner¡¯s dead body for balance. Using my flight, I stuck to the roof of the truck as it swerved and jerked, avoiding bullets with enough force behind them to punch chunks of concrete loose from the shipyard asphalt. Grit was in my teeth and stinging my eyes, and the stench of rubber and gunpowder was lacing my throat like my first drink of beer at summer camp had. I bent, staying low, getting closer to the front of the van. Some of our guys leaned out the window, firing rapidly.


    I applied pressure to my hands and feet, then hauled myself onto the side of the truck as it juddered over a patch of loose rubble. I stuck to the dented steel like glue to paper, then made my way toward one of our mercs leaning out of the truck¡¯s shattered window by almost crawling and scuttling along the side of the van. I startled him, judging by his reaction to swing his gun at me.


    ¡°What¡¯s the sitch?¡± I yelled over the gunfire and the swearing. His face was governed in soot, and was that lipstick smeared on his chin? ¡°And where the hell is everybody else?¡±


    ¡°No clue,¡± he barked. ¡°Comms are fucked and someone jumped the gun!¡±


    Knuckles, ever silent, appeared, leaning beside me. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°Informant,¡± he said, words laced with venom. ¡°They knew we were coming.¡±


    Shit, of course. The explosions and gunfire that got O¡¯Reiley¡¯s attention must¡¯ve been their way of pulling us all in way before we were ready. They hit us with our pants around our ankles. Wasn¡¯t there supposed to be some kind of honor among thieves? Freakin¡¯ supervillains. A part of me wasn''t all that surprised, but if I was gonna be working with these guys, then it was just about right to feel the brewing anger bubbling away in my gut. On the other hand, we weren¡¯t ready.


    Ava hadn¡¯t been ready, and now we were doing the heavy lifting on her behalf.


    I shook my head, then whipped around and out of the way before a bullet could slam into my forehead. Being this weak, I didn¡¯t know what a bullet would do to me. Bruise me. Break a bone. It was one thing being invincible, but another thing having thick skin. I was soft on the inside, just as full of guts and blood like all the rest of them for now. Enough rounds to my torso, and I knew how badly it felt to feel like your stomach was being torn open from the inside out with every breath. Gunners first, then. Strip the trucks of their weapons, leaving the drivers defenseless.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the closest rendezvous point for Damsel to pick up the cargo?¡± Knuckles yelled.


    The merc shouted at another guy beside him, then said, ¡°Old church building about a block away from the dock! Get us the trucks and we¡¯ll be good to go. We can cut off their route and¡ª¡±


    A sudden bone-chilling coldness rushed over my skin. Call it a sixth sense, this inane ability that told me when a powerful superhuman was somewhere close to me. A warning.


    The shadows we drove past leaped toward the van so quickly I almost missed them, reaching out with spindly black arms that stuck to the steel with a dozen sudden slamming impacts. They sank their crooked claws into the wheels, stopping us dead, like hitting a solid brick wall, and shot right past my head as I leaped off the truck, rolled across the concrete, and jumped into the air. Darkness filled the van, flooding human bodies with that same sudden chill that raised goosebumps across my arms. They screamed. Screamed even louder than the gunfire from the Triumvirate mercs speeding away. What the hell¡¯s going on? I thought, drawing nearer, wanting to help because instinct told me to do it, but they were mercs at the end of the day, and besides¡­


    Well, the darkness seeped out of the stationary truck seconds later, and all that was left of their bodies were the desiccated corpses of four mercenaries slumped in their seats. The silence came quickly, just as loud as the night around me. Knuckles had found her way onto the top of a shipping container, crouched on one knee, silent, glaring at the cadavers that toppled onto the ground, and looking down at the pool of shadows sitting underneath the van. We watched as the hands reaching up from the shadows groped the dead bodies, massaging their thighs and hollow faces. I felt sick with anger, knowing that eventually, that something new was coming.


    I hadn¡¯t come across this many new supervillains since Halloween last year.


    Except the dead bodies that didn¡¯t reek of decay because there was nothing left to rot weren¡¯t just decorations, but were there, empty, gray and tender, spread across the concrete.


    I was about to ask Knuckles if she knew any supervillains who could do this.


    My answer came when a figure draped in tattered, filthy white clothing staggered out of an alleyway, darkness clinging to his stick-thin arms as he wiped his mouth across his forearm. He was disheveled, maybe a few years older than me. A musk of wet soil and cigarettes poured from his body, an odor too sour for a nose as sensitive as mine to cling onto for long enough to study him. I¡¯d never seen him before, and when he swallowed saliva, looking at me, I shuddered.


    Something was off about him. I expected laughter, like Cadaver had. Instead, he stared at us, his eyes unfocused, his stance hunched and staggered as he moved forward as if dazed.


    The sheen of sweat on his forehead reeked of¡­ honey. Something painfully sweet.


    ¡°Hey,¡± he said, pointing at me. Bags underneath his eyes, and dirt underneath his fingernails. He looked like the junkies who smoked in the abandoned skating joint near Denny¡¯s. ¡°You¡¯re quick, really quick. But you smell so nice. I bet you¡¯d taste even nicer. Nicer than them.¡±


    I made a face, an unflattering one. ¡°Girls don¡¯t usually go for cannibals.¡±


    If that¡¯s what he was. Some kind of superhuman who fed on life itself? New.


    But still strange, a little odd, and still sweating the sickly stench of burning sugar.


    He smiled, showing teeth, then flicked his hand. Beside me, fingers shot from the darkness, tendrils that clawed through the air and dug deep into the concrete as I darted away. More, several, down from above as if the night sky was trying to grab a hold of me. I did what I do best, and dived to the ground, rolled, and threw an exposed chunk of tarmac at him like a fastball. His eyes didn¡¯t react, and nor did his hand move, as a wall of darkness appeared in front of him. Stone smashed against the wall, disintegrating it into fine powder and loose bricks that skittered away.


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    And there went the idea of throwing Knuckles at him right out of the window.


    I bounded away, conserving my energy. Off an abandoned forklift and onto a lamp post, ducking underneath a sliver of tendrils, then lunging toward where Knuckles was perched. She grabbed hold of my wrist and pulled me up beside her on the container. We stood, backed away, wordless for a moment. I was panting a little harder than I should have. My throat was dry, my tongue fat and useless in my throat. Looking around us, all I saw was heavy darkness.


    Hell, the entirety of the shipping yard was coated in the overbearing blackness.


    ¡°Take him out, and we¡¯ll have eyes,¡± I said to her. She nodded. ¡°He¡¯s probably doing something to the comms too, like that merc told us. Got an objection to the plan?¡±


    ¡°Only one question,¡± she said quietly. ¡°How would darkness affect electricity?¡±


    ¡°How the hell would I know?¡± Then he appeared behind us¡ªI felt it, felt this clawing coldness run down my spine. I grabbed Knuckles¡¯ wrist and yanked her away from the blast of darkness, and slammed straight into a wall of it. I had wanted to dart over the side and away.


    I only got two steps away before a hand as large as me slammed into my side, throwing us across the container, head over heels, until I got my balance again and forced my fingers into the steel. Knuckles did the same, except she came to a sudden dead stop¡ªthe force swayed the stack of containers we were on. An idea clicked into place. A rash idea. A stupid idea. But I was already moving backward, planting my feet into the grated iron, using my flight to push backward, and¡ª


    The container moved underneath my feet, and so did the one underneath it.


    A lump of shadowy mass formed below me, vanishing from the fallen containers and appearing beneath me. A hand grabbed hold of my foot. Ice filled my veins, paralyzing me for a second. The shadows yanked me out of the sky, slamming me against the container. Blood filled my mouth. My arms felt like lead. Knuckles lunged from above, trying to land a kick that only met a wall of shadows. Where I froze, she shrieked in pain as the darkness grabbed a hold of her.


    ¡°Louder,¡± the boy whispered, saliva on his lips. ¡°I like when they fight.¡±


    I did the only thing I could think of: invert my flight. On my hands and knees, I pulled myself downward and through the container. I landed hard on old wooden crates. The shadows ripped off my body. I gasped, shook my head, then kicked away as snakes of black darted through the hole and chased me down the container. I slammed my shoulder through the doors, out into freedom. I fell through the air, spun around, and darted right toward the containers underneath him. Less force than I needed to rip a hole clean through it. Enough force to shove it out of the pile,


    The four containers above it fell, taking the boy with him.


    I grabbed Knuckles, ripping her away from the shadows. I set her down on another stack, but she was already on her feet before I could ask if she was at least somewhat alright, and shoved me away. Just then, tendrils shot between us, grasping nothing. The boy was silent as he fell, trapped underneath the containers that slammed him into the destroyed concrete underneath us.


    Knuckles jumped to safety as the stack we stood on came crashing down, a bi-product of almost being used by shadow-guy to grasp onto anything that could save him. It was a sound so terribly loud I was half-sure that most of the Olympians would have heard it. A wreckage of steel and iron lay crumpled across the dock, blocking an entire section of the forgotten yard. Stars dotted my eyes. Exhaustion whispered my name. I battled them both and searched for that sweat-smeared guy. Tried to listen to where he could appear from, or if he was pulling himself from the wreckage.


    After what I had come across tonight, I couldn¡¯t be sure of anything anymore.


    For all I knew, if this kept up, I was going to see dad again.


    All I got in return was a bellow loud enough to make me dizzy. Equilibrium was a weird little quirk about my powers, because even without my flight, I could just about balance on any antenna on top of a skyscraper just fine. But with a sound loud enough to splinter concrete echoing through the night and my head, the wave of nausea and dizziness and confusion was like a fist against my temples. I tried to get my head straight, to see what had made that noise¡ªto see what was still making that damned noise¡ªand instead found myself dangling above the dock. Knuckles was gripping onto my wrist, grunting with effort, muttering about behind heavier than I looked.


    She pulled me up (again, I know, I know), and watched as I puked and shook my head like a dog left out in the sun. I saw her look at me, but I ignored it and looked over the side.


    The screeching of metal sounded like the worst car wreck I¡¯d ever heard. The thing that threw the containers off of its body was just about the worst creature I had ever seen in my life.


    A mess of muscle and too-stretched flesh stood beneath us, looming over the guy dressed in white. He was panting, sweating even harder, as the beast with a mouth sewn shut by blooded spools of thread, tongues of loose skin hanging from its scarred, bulging arms, stared up at us, grunting and roaring and struggling to breathe as if it had something lodged deep in its throat. A girl had appeared, too, clutching onto her stomach as she leaned against the beast. She was dressed in a checkered red and white dress, and was about as pale as the guy beside her was. She was just as thin, like her inky black hair, and had eyes like if you beat the ever-living life out of the sky. Her lips were a deep scarlet, like she¡¯d taken a whole lot of care in smearing them in fresh blood.


    ¡°Just one thing after another tonight, isn¡¯t it?¡± I muttered. Knuckles stayed quiet.


    ¡°What the fuck is wrong with you?¡± she snapped. The guy flinched as if smacked across the face. ¡°I was just about starting to understand the witch¡¯s abilities. I was winning.¡±


    Knuckles tensed, leaning forward. I put a hand out, stopping her. Being Tempest had taught me one thing¡ªrest whilst I could, even though it was getting annoying to do so.


    The three other convoys were getting away, except one of them was far slower. Witchling must be over there, having an easier time now that whoever this girl was, wasn¡¯t there.


    ¡°I needed your help,¡± he said, rasping. He pointed at us. ¡°Their smell, it was¡ª¡±


    She struck him across the face. He staggered, holding his jaw. ¡°You fucking half-breed imbecile. Did those drugs make you a lot more brain dead? I gave you another chance!¡±


    ¡°The girl with black hair,¡± he said, blood lining his teeth. ¡°She smells different.¡±


    The new girl didn¡¯t bother looking at us as she snapped her fingers and said, ¡°Cherry, fetch. I don¡¯t want to waste my time with any more of their little supervillains for hire.¡±


    Rylee Addams, supervillain for hire, I thought. A new personal low.


    Cherry¡ªthe beast of hulking flesh and muscle¡ªbellowed once more as the girl began laying in on the guy. It moved forward, then leaped thousands of feet into the sky. We stood, backed up, arched our necks and watched him sail through the sky and come crashing down. We lunged out of the way, left and right, as he landed with a bone-jarring impact. He went for me first, stomping over old trailer wrecks and forklifts and empty oil barrels as I dodged and ran. He was fast, keeping pace. I turned around, pivoting on my toes, and met his giant fist. I swore, crossed my arms, and ate the impact. It sent me flying backward, shooting across the dock, skipping across concrete that burned my skin on impact; I tried to stop, stumbled and kept going until I slammed into the side of an abandoned train carriage. My head rang. My body felt weak, not mine.


    But I had to pull myself out of the dent I made. I did, falling flat on my face, eating dirt and gravel. Then I struggled to get off the hard-packed dirt pressed against my face as I wheezed in pain and surprise and raw, unfiltered agony. My lungs expanded, air filled them through a straw.


    I clutched my stomach as the ground trembled. Cherry was coming, and fast.


    One hand on the earth, fingers clawing through gravel and dirt, finding purchase, then the next arm and two feet, and then I pushed the earth off my chest. Still couldn¡¯t breathe right. Still struggled to fill my chest with oxygen. I spat blood and dirt, then glanced upward to the sky.


    I threw myself to the side, rolling to a crumpled heap as Cherry cratered the earth.


    I didn¡¯t know how far he¡¯d thrown me across the dock, but it was far enough to toss gravel into the air, right along with shards of metal and wood torn off the cargo trains surrounding me. It rained down like shrapnel, pelting me as I stood, staggering, weak on my feet. Fuck me, suddenly everyone hits just as hard as dad around here. Cherry¡¯s bulging black eyes watched me from the cloud of dust, watched me as it settled on his broad shoulders as he lumbered his way forward.


    Hands up, feet squared, heart thumping against my chest, world dizzy, but I¡¯m Zeus¡¯¡ª


    He swiped his arm through the air, catching my midriff, sending me into the side of another train carriage. I tore through it. Landed hard. My head slammed against something, wood, maybe, and my body disconnected from my mind. Cherry bellowed and shrieked, rage, maybe, or pure excitement at seeing that I was still clinging to life. I winced, cried out, and pressed my hands against the side of my head. I shut my eyes, something I knew I shouldn¡¯t do in any fight. It was a reflex, and I could almost hear Lucas yelling at me to open my eyes and get up, dammit. Now.


    But the dizziness was making me sick. My body was wracked with pain, my head punctuating it with every heartbeat that pounded against the side of my tender temples.


    The ground stopped trembling, and I opened one eye.


    Cherry stood over me, breathing hard through his surgically sealed maw. The guy and the girl appeared beside me, one scolding the other. Couldn¡¯t tell who from who, not until the girl was close. She used her bare feet to turn me over onto my back. Kicked my side to lower my hands.


    ¡°This is what you brought me here for?¡± she said from very far away. I coughed, choking on blood flowing down my throat. ¡°I told Ceaser you half-breeds weren¡¯t ready. I was right.¡±


    ¡°Frankie,¡± he whispered. ¡°I started feeling sick again. I need more¡ª¡±


    ¡°Later,¡± she said, waving her hand through the air. I think she did that, because all I saw was a blur of dull shades. ¡°First I have to see what¡¯s so important about this silly little girl.¡±


    I tried getting up, tried putting my weight on my hands. She placed her foot on my throat and forced me back down. Air escaped my body. I reached to claw at her foot, but darkness wrapped around my wrists, and just as suddenly as before, my body numbed, my muscles seized and tensed up. Anger flared through me, anger that came from a place of being controlled, being made into something that could get beaten around. She saw it in my eyes, and a part of me heard her laugh, then another part of me felt as she slammed the heel of her foot hard into my chest.


    ¡°But I suppose you¡¯re right, Wraith,¡± she said. ¡°It does smell different from the others.¡±


    He jerked his thumb at Cherry. ¡°Use her body parts to make him stronger?¡±


    ¡°Get¡ª¡± I fought the urge to pass out as I grabbed her ankle. ¡°Get your fucking filthy feet off of me.¡± She forced me down, but fuck me, I wasn¡¯t going to get dismembered by someone I¡¯d never even heard of before. All these damned supervillains, these new supervillains who could come into my city, thinking they could do whatever they wanted just because they were powerful.


    A statue stood in the bay, a golden statue, and this city belonged to him.


    And in turn, it belonged to me.


    Wraith raised his arm, and tendrils of darkness appeared around me. ¡°Stay. Still.¡±


    ¡°Blow me.¡±


    Frankie kicked me across the jaw. The darkness dug its nails into my wrists, not drawing blood, but making me feel like actual fingers were pressing against my veins, searching for a pulse.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got spunk, but I hate that in dead girls, you know? You''ve got to understand that it makes people a lot harder to cut open when they keep squirming around because it hurts or whatever,¡± she explained. ¡°Cherry, carry her and make sure Ceaser knows what I got.¡±


    ¡°But I was the one who¡ª¡± She glared at Wraith. He kept quiet.


    ¡°Don¡ªDon¡¯t y¡ªDon¡¯t you fucking dare,¡± I said through my teeth as Cherry neared. I bucked, kicked at the dirt and the shadows. Frankie watched me the way you would a dying bug.


    Cherry¡¯s meaty hands grabbed my arms and legs, hauling me off the ground with ease.


    And away from the shadows.


    I mustered the morsels of strength I had left and slammed my knee into his nose. I heard a soft crunch, and he reared, screaming, holding his bleeding nose and crooked jaw, as I landed on all fours. I breathed hard and heavy, glaring at the pair. Frankie looked angered. Wraith looked wary. I couldn¡¯t really give a damn what they thought at that moment, because the night was getting long, and the blood in my mouth was getting bitter. I knew for a fact, now, that at least three Triumvirate armored trucks had gotten away. There were still nine more on the loose, but I couldn¡¯t call myself a superhero if I was going to stand around and get my ass handed to me by these two. I might not have had the lightning bold glimmering on my chest, but I had it flowing in my blood.


    Hell, I wouldn¡¯t be Zeus¡¯ daughter if I didn¡¯t.


    I spat blood on Wraith¡¯s white shirt as I stood, feeling dizzy, sick, weak from my knees to my toes, but stood firm. He blinked, looked at it, and since nobody was around, since Knuckles wasn¡¯t here and nor was Witchling or O¡¯Reiley or anyone else¡ª-well, when had there ever really been anyone else with me?¡ªI let electricity jump between my fingers. Not the tiny sparks that I used to heal the wound Cadaver had carved into my torso, but enough to make the girl step backward as I stood up. The look in her eyes went from boredom and glee to this coldness, this empty fear, this burning realization of who was standing in front of her. I guessed it didn¡¯t matter if they knew who I was now, as the electricity ran up my arms, as I felt warmth flow through my bloodstream and collect in my eyes. These two weren¡¯t anything like Ava and Cadaver.


    I was more than certain if I put my hand through their chests, that would be that.


    But it was always a good idea to check if your villain had a heart or not.


    ¡°You¡¯re¡­¡± Frankie blinked, raised her hand for Cherry to get ready. ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to be here. They told us you¡¯d be busy somewhere else. Or¡­ no, you¡¯re not her. You can¡¯t be.¡±


    I was in her face the second she blinked. ¡°Guess you¡¯re about to find out who I am then.¡±

 Issue #11: Broadwalk Beatdown

    Wraith grabbed Frankie¡¯s wrist, and darkness engulfed them both. Cherry appeared in their place, his ham-sized fist raised high, bulldozing through the air as he swung down at me. I darted aside, letting him punch a hole into the earth. Debris flew upward as he bellowed a cry of rage. His eyes glimmered, reflecting the golden light pouring from my fingers. The wet bandages covering his shoulders and forearms, dark as if dipped in ink, unraveled to reveal a patchwork of stitches as he swung his other first. I stepped back again, ducking underneath his blow. Two steps forward, then slam my foot into the joint of his knee. A snap. A shriek of agony as he collapsed onto one knee.


    I watched the muscle fibers tense visibly underneath his skin. Bunch and contract.


    Then he lunged at me, grasping with those fat, gnarled fingers. I grabbed his forearm and swung him around, slamming him into the side of a train carriage as hard as he had me, just to return the favor. Wood and metal and a shriek of destruction tore through the night as I kept a hold of his arm, carrying on the momentum and plowing him through the side of the archaic train. Then I twisted him over my shoulder, gritted my teeth, and flipped him onto the ground with enough force to shake the earth. One leg over his forearm, fall to my back, twist and twist until I heard it¡ª


    Just like Lucas taught me, with enough pressure in an arm bar, you could snap any arm.


    This, though, as Cherry writhed and shrieked to get free, sounded like a crack of thunder.


    I¡¯ll admit, it felt good to just breathe again. To hear and see and smell so much more than I could a few seconds ago, like the stench of raw blood that oozed from Cherry¡¯s bandages, and the tiny sounds of his broken forearm grinding against one another as he flailed, throwing me off into a crouch. But I didn¡¯t have time to revel in this freeing feeling. Wraith and Frankie were out there somewhere, maybe watching and waiting to see what happened next as I grabbed Cherry¡¯s head in my hand. His dome was huge, far bigger than anything I could crush with one squeeze like you would a human. Besides, his skull was thick¡ªthick like bedrock shaped around his head. Frankie must¡¯ve done something to make the softest, most vulnerable part of him nearly impossible to get to. But I was, well, you know who I was; it didn¡¯t matter if his skull was hard to crush for me.


    I could always just squeeze his brain right out through his nose, or his eyes.


    Or pop his head open like a zit, I thought.


    Cherry stirred, lumbering onto one awkward, stump-like leg, then tried to lunge at me. I forced him down onto the ground, planting his face square in the gravel at my feet with bone jarring force. He flailed, kicking and slamming his giant fists and one good leg into the dirt. He shrieked and mewled, this terrible, animal-like sound that shouldn¡¯t come from any kind of mouth. It echoed around the train yard, heard only by the shadows watching from carriage windows.


    To be really fair, I would be doing him a mercy by turning off his lights.


    I knelt on his back, putting my weight and several hundred more pounds of force between his giant shoulder blades. I saw a litter of scars and stitches, a patchwork of skin that wasn¡¯t his.


    How many people made up this¡­ thing? My stomach turned, sick at the thought, hoping they weren¡¯t civilians that had been butchered and put together for some crazy girl¡¯s experiments.


    This wouldn¡¯t exist if you¡¯d do a better job as Olympia, I thought. More time actually in the streets, away from Rylee and the rest of her mundane, miserable little life. I shook it away. Not now. I raised my hands, wincing when Cherry barked and cried, as if his tongue was trying to create words, a sentence, some kind of plea, but was too fat and warped and trapped in a maze of razor-like teeth that stopped him from saying anything at all. I tightened my fists, raised them, and brought them down on either side of his head. His skull caved in instantly. Brain matter bulged from the ruptured skin stretched over his wide dome. An eyeball liquified as it got pressed into white, visceral jelly that oozed from the pocket in his skull. The worst part? He was still screaming.


    It didn¡¯t matter that I tried smashing his jaw into bits. The sound came from his chest.


    From deep, deep in the chests of whoever had been sewn together to create him.


    ¡°Cherry!¡± a voice shrieked, ripping apart the shadows. From the corner of my eye, I watched Frankie stumble out of the darkness, then pelt toward me. I picked skin off my chest, wiped blood off my brow. Desperation in her voice. Anger in her eyes. She was a mess of thin arms, wild black hair, and blood red lipstick on trembling lips. ¡°No. No! Don¡¯t die. Don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    I stood, and she stopped dead in her tracks. Frankie breathed hard, panted as if oxygen was going out of fashion. ¡°Two things are gonna happen.¡± I held up my finger; blood trickled down my forearm. ¡°One, you¡¯re gonna stop screaming, it¡¯s annoying. Two, you¡¯re gonna tell me who Ceaser is.¡± I thought for a moment, then added, ¡°Plus you¡¯re gonna tell me who your informant is, too.¡±


    ¡°Why would I ever tell you anything?¡± she cried. ¡°Get off him. Now. Now!¡±


    I put my foot on his head, threatening to turn him into paste. ¡°Don¡¯t test me.¡±


    ¡°Cherry!¡± Frankie shouted, her voice growing more hoarse. ¡°Get up. Get up.¡±


    Wraith peeled out of the shadows beside Frankie, eyeing me through the messy black strands of hair falling over his forehead. He stumbled, missing one step. Then he raised his hands at me, making the darkness surrounding Cherry and I froth and bubble like he was conjuring some invisible fire to burn me alive. But it wasn¡¯t the same as before. The shadows weren¡¯t as tame, as willing to snake around and dart at his command. They bulged, yeah, like something was underneath them, but no matter how hard Wraith tried, the shadows remained a mess around me, pushing against whatever it was he was trying to do. He swore quietly, sweat beading on his face.


    I smelt some kind of stench coming from him. Not just the musty smell of days-old sweat clinging to the tattered remains of his t-shirt, but from deep inside his gut, gushing out of his mouth every time he took in a deep breath of air. It was almost like he was rotting from the inside out.


    You half-breeds aren¡¯t ready, Frankie had said. I squinted, looking at him. He looked normal enough to me¡ªat least, as normal as a boy who could control darkness could be.


    I guessed I should probably get him to some kind of morgue for an autopsy. I was never good at biology, and I still had several armored trucks to catch before the end of the night. Lucas would want to know what Frankie meant, and I did too, and all those secrets were locked away underneath that pasty layer of skin stretched over his lanky frame. He was coming with me, but I actually had to get information from Frankie before anyone was going anywhere with anybody.


    Least of all the monster struggling underneath the heel of my boot.


    So I raised my foot above Cherry¡¯s head and said, ¡°Do it, and I kill him.¡±


    Frankie grabbed his wrists, forcing them down. Wraith blinked, confused, watching as the shadows dissipated into faint outlines. ¡°There. Now let him go. Right now. Right fucking now.¡±


    ¡°See, I would, you know,¡± I said. ¡°But you still haven¡¯t answered my questions.¡±


    ¡°What, is the great Olympia two-timing the bad and the good guys now, too?¡± she snarled. ¡°I¡¯m not telling you anything. Nothing at all. So you get your damned foot off his head before I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Do you want this damned thing alive or not?¡± I snapped. This is why I didn¡¯t talk with supervillains¡ªthey were a pain of morals to deal with. Frankie nodded yes, silent as she stared. ¡°Then answer my questions, and I¡¯ll think about giving you two a head start before I kill you, too.¡±


    Frankie¡¯s lips pulled into a smile, the kind you would make by dragging a scalpel across a piece of pale skin. ¡°Do you really think I care about what you¡¯ll do to me?¡± she asked. ¡°You kill villains, I know, but that¡¯s nothing to what Ceasar will do to you if you anger him, Olympia.¡±


    My brows furrowed. The wind picked up slightly, blowing bitter wind across my bare arms. ¡°Sounds like one hell of a threat. Tell him I don¡¯t really give a shit about what he¡¯ll do to me, just as long as he keeps his little pets like you and Wraith in the dog kennel with the rest of ¡®em.¡±


    Her eye twitched. She moved forward a single step. ¡°We¡¯re not his pets. We¡¯re the futu¡ª¡±


    Wraith grabbed her shoulder, then doubled over and coughed. I smelt blood spring from his throat as he hacked and wheezed and finalled puked a slew of black saliva, similar to the kind that Cadaver had bled when I had ripped him open. Right down to the sludgy thickness. He staggered, pressing his hand to his throat as if he could somehow pull it out. Considering how my night had gone so far, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if he did just that. Instead, he reached his fingers into his mouth, pressed against his tongue, and vomited a stream that mixed into the dirt and gravel.


    ¡°Hey, I think your friend over there is about to have a heart attack,¡± I said, then shrugged. I guessed it made things a little easier for me, seeing that explaining to Lucas why I only had a torso, an arm, and part of a head on an autopsy table (again) wouldn¡¯t be a very fun conversation to have.


    ¡°Could you not pick a better time to start coughing blood?¡± she hissed at Wraith.


    ¡°Frankie,¡± he rasped, spitting blood. It smeared on his lips as he wiped his mouth across the back of his hand. ¡°I need more. Caesar was right. I wasn¡¯t ready for tonight. Not yet. Home.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not leaving without Cherry,¡± she said, stepping away from him as he reached toward her. I, for one, agreed¡ªthey weren¡¯t leaving without giving me answers. ¡°He¡¯d kill us. Kill me.¡±


    ¡°Caesar does not kill,¡± he said quietly, almost automatically, as if they were words he had said so many times they just slipped out of his mouth. ¡°He¡¯ll forgive us, I know he will. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    An idea clicked: if the shadows protecting the other convoys of armored trucks were connected to Wraith, then being this far away from them would be putting one hell of a strain on his powers, hence, by my guess, the blood he was puking and the shaking running through his thin body. It would feel like overextending several muscles, pulling and pulling until they snapped. If he got out of the picture, then I would have a lot more of an easy time cleaning up Ava¡¯s mess.


    But Frankie must have figured out the same thing, because her eyes flitted from Cherry to just over her shoulder at the distant dockyard. Gunfire still echoed throughout the night, joined by the stench of s-grade rifle fire. I cursed to myself, knowing it was just about to get a lot harder.


    Whoever Caesar was, he was relying on these two to make sure everything went smoothly tonight, but I guess with me in the picture, every bit of that plan had gone straight out the window.


    Frankie pursed her lips, and for the first time tonight, I saw something on her face that wasn¡¯t spite or anger: wariness. It spread throughout her tight features like cold seeping through the cracks of your clothes on a winter¡¯s day. She turned to me, considering something I couldn¡¯t read behind her hollow, bone-chilling eyes. ¡°You want something to tell your friends in the SDU, right? Something you¡¯ll use to hunt us down and pick us off like we¡¯re scraps off your freaking plate?¡±


    I spread my arms, helpless. ¡°I¡¯m a superhero, it¡¯s just what I do.¡±


    ¡°Will you give me back Cherry if I give you something in return, then?¡±


    I raised an eyebrow at her. ¡°Aren¡¯t you scared I¡¯m gonna come after you and, you know, smear you across whatever room I find you hiding inside? Because I¡¯m totally going to do that.¡±


    ¡°A name,¡± Frankie said. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a name if you give me back Cherry.¡±


    The beast beneath me was weaker, less enthusiastic about slamming his arms and legs into the earth. His breathing was labored (which usually happens when your skull gets caved in), and his heartbeat¡ªmultiple heartbeats, I noted¡ªfired off in odd, soft beats against his chest. He wouldn¡¯t be alive for long, and the logical part of me figured I should just kill him once she gave me what I wanted. But on the other hand, if I wanted to wean out whatever cancer was spreading throughout the underbelly of Lower Olympus, I had to have at least some kind of information on whoever Caesar was. Keeping Frankie and Wraith alive wouldn¡¯t make sense on a normal day.


    But it hadn¡¯t been a normal day today, and it seemingly didn¡¯t want to end.


    I needed a lead, at least a few faces I could attach to this mess. Ava didn¡¯t have to know. Her main goal was keeping the city safe, and forcing her superhumans to do the dirty work. If I could just figure out what Caesar was planning to use the weapons for, where he got them and how, as well as having superhumans this powerful in his ranks that I had never heard of lurking just past my reach, then I could finally clean up a large chunk of what dad left me to protect.


    Rylee Addams didn¡¯t get kicked out of the house for being Rylee, and so, sighing under my breath and forcing a hand through my hair, I nodded reluctantly, because Olympia was who I was, and mark my words, I would get a statue of my own one day. For now, I had to deal with this.


    Something told me I would regret agreeing to this someday, but I wasn¡¯t a fortune teller, and whatever the future held was a problem for future Olympia to punch her way through like always. It would just mean getting into the Olympiad would have to take a little longer.


    ¡°Juliana Cortez.¡±


    I waited for Frankie to continue, watching as the wind tousled her hair. She remained perfectly silent and stock still as Wraith moaned in pain and continued coughing specks of blood.


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± I asked quietly.


    She nodded. ¡°That¡¯s it. Now, give me back Cherry.¡±


    ¡°Who is she?¡±


    ¡°A woman.¡±


    ¡°No kidding,¡± I said, growing frustrated. ¡°What is she to Caesar? Where is she?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s for the superhero to find out,¡± she said. ¡°Get. Off. Cherry. We had a deal.¡±


    The night wasn¡¯t getting any younger, and the armored trucks weren¡¯t getting any closer. Any other day, and this would have ended with me leaving Frankie in orbit after I made her spill her guts, but then Lucas would have told me that I hadn¡¯t been smart about it. That I wasn¡¯t doing a good enough job by gathering the information I needed. Shrike was one of the greatest detectives on the planet back in his day, back when the Olympians were mighty and I only ever saw dad save the city from the living room couch, but being a detective was one thing; letting supervillains walk away because you needed information from the later was an entirely different thing all together.


    I¡¯m sure dad would be more than proud of you, Ry. Great job so far.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    I sighed through my teeth, then stepped off of Cherry. Wraith, his eyes bloodshot, his teeth smeared with scarlet, raised his hand, then clenched it tight. Darkness swallowed the three of them, and I watched, a deep pit forming in my gut, as three supervillains got away because I chose to let them leave. Seconds later, the train yard was silent. Destroyed. Littered with the ruins and remains of carriages and twisted metal railways that had leaped off the ground when both Cherry and I had slammed so hard into the dirt that the shockwave must have forced them loose. I was there, too.


    The idiot who was still playing dress up supervillain.


    I massaged my temples, letting the electricity die out. It was a boost in my strength for now, but I didn¡¯t know how much longer it would last. I guess I would just have to find out the hard way, because I was Olympia, and Rylee too, sometimes, and I didn¡¯t know any other way.


    ***


    I found Knuckles about five minutes away from the trainyard straddled on a rumbling motorcycle. She¡¯d somehow gotten her hands on a pair of night vision goggles and some binoculars, and must¡¯ve been watching the tangle of shadows Wraith had brought with him for the past few minutes. And when I landed beside her, she jerked around, readying for a fight, but then relaxed when I put my hands up in a mock surrender of the pistol she had pointed right at my chest.


    I knew I was right¡ªshe was a soldier of some kind, despite her superpowers. Too young for extensive military training (and trust me, knowing Lucas, I knew how much time that took), but had the decisive movements of someone that had been trained their entire life for active combat.


    But superhumans weren¡¯t allowed in the military¡ªat least, from what I last heard from the news broadcasts Denny always listened to¡ªso who trained her and for what was beyond me.


    ¡°You¡¯re alive,¡± she said, stating a fact as she slid the gun into a holster.


    ¡°Seems like it,¡± I replied. ¡°And you came looking for me. How sweet.¡±


    ¡°I watched you get thrown what should be several blocks,¡± Knuckles said, turning the bike around. She eyed me curiously, her cold, intelligent eyes searching each of the faint scars littering my arms, and the large wound now healed over that Cadaver had given me. ¡°You look fine.¡±


    ¡°Take a girl out to dinner first,¡± I said, hovering. ¡°C¡¯mon, we¡¯ve got to get back to the armored trucks. We can cut across the dock by being closer to the actual port, where the old ships are. We¡¯ll spring up on their left and hope to the heavens that they don¡¯t know we¡¯re coming.¡±


    ¡°What about the boy with the shadows?¡± she asked, voice husky. ¡°Or the girl.¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t be a problem for now,¡± I muttered.


    Knuckles didn¡¯t ask any more questions, maybe at the sight of the dried blood crusted underneath my fingernails. If there was one thing I was good at, it was appearances. The heat my body generated came in handy in more ways than one, and now, swelling with energy, I flew just above Knuckles, making sure she followed my path as I sliced through the musky air above the dock. Entire avenues between warehouses were clogged with debris and dead bodies, either ours or the Triumvirates, dashed across the desolate yard like scarlet sprinkles on a rotting black pastry. I say pastry because a saccharine stench was in the air, so sweet it was sour, like sun boiled sewage. It was the same smell that had come from both Cadaver and Wraith, and it was only getting stronger. I swallowed bitter saliva, flinching at the terrible taste it had formed on my tongue.


    I couldn¡¯t go looking for it now. Maybe it was something else, like dead fish.


    Really, really dead fish, left to decompose under the relentless summer sunlight.


    I slowed my flight, dropping through the air for Knuckles¡¯ sake. She was adamant on staying on the ground, so threading our way through the darkness took longer than I would have liked. Still, it gave us time to regroup, to settle back into this weird, unsaid rhythm between us.


    It took several minutes, and I had to eventually rise through the air to avoid low-hanging electrical wires, but up so high in the sky, the darkness of Lower Olympus grew closer, more loud, as we approached the weaving, throaty hunks of armored metal that was one of the armored convoys. And it was just our luck that Witchling was here, too, alongside O¡¯Reiley. He was squatted low in the bed of the back of our trucks, returning what little fire he could before he and three other mercs had to duck down. Witchling had her arms spread, using rubble to block whistling bullets and pepper against the trucks in front of us. But she was doing more than that.


    She was using her powers to keep the trucks together, stopping them from driving their own separate ways, spreading us even thinner. We were closing in on the dock¡¯s large, rusted gate. If they went their own ways, we would have lost two convoys worth of shipment tonight.


    And we had to stop them sooner rather than later, because if they continued racing toward the exit gate like this, Patriot Broadwalk was only three or four blocks away. Then pedestrians.


    A lot of pedestrians, and I hadn¡¯t signed up to this stupid idea to get them killed.


    Knuckles gunned the motorbike¡¯s engine, swerving to avoid boulders that Witchling ripped out of the road behind the truck. Once she got right up close, she leaped onto the bed of the truck, startling one merc too zoned in on the fighting in front of us. I landed beside her, straight into a crouch, and felt a bullet punch against my shoulder. I half-turned, surprised by how much the impact hurt. I cursed and rolled my shoulder, the same one I had used to stop the gangsters at the beginning of the night. If it kept up like this, I¡¯d probably need shoulder surgery before I¡¯m twenty.


    O¡¯Reiley looked at us, somewhat glad. ¡°You two got anything to do with those shadows?¡±


    Or lack thereof, Witchling said in my mind, something I hadn¡¯t missed.


    Knuckles jerked her thumb at me. ¡°She took him out.¡±


    Took him out was a stretch, but I wasn¡¯t going to burst their bubble. ¡°Where¡¯s Damsel?¡± I yelled over a sporadic burst of gunfire. The rapid succession of bullets was tight, aimed. They weren¡¯t wasting their ammunition, but I could hear the heavy iron crates inside of their trucks banging against the side of their walls, jerking the trucks from one side to the next as the drivers helplessly tried getting the several ton beast in a straight line. Witchling, sweat bubbling around her neck, concentrated on keeping the furthest truck close enough to use to not peel away, but far enough away that they couldn¡¯t return fire accurately enough to butcher us as we crouched.


    ¡°A phone call away!¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯ve gotta get these at least. Charlie squad¡¯s got one of the other convoys, but these three are on us. Beta¡¯s been dead silent since arrival. One down.¡±


    ¡°Two,¡± I shouted over the wind and the roar of the engine. O¡¯Reiley blinked, looking at me. ¡°We got attacked by Wraith, the shadow guy, and he put me out of the picture before we could get the convoy back. This and beta squad are probably all we¡¯ve got left. Fuckin¡¯ SNAFU.¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯d you learn that kinda language?¡± he said.


    I shrugged one shoulder. ¡°Same guy who taught me how to kill a man.¡±


    ¡°You know,¡± a younger mercenary shouted at me, ¡°you look kinda familiar.¡±


    I grabbed his shoulder and forced him to the bed of the truck, narrowly avoiding a bullet between the eyes. ¡°That¡¯s because I¡¯ll probably be the last face you¡¯ll ever see, idiot.¡±


    ¡°Why can¡¯t Witchling stop the trucks?¡± Knuckles said, getting closer to the front. ¡°Pulling concrete from the ground would stop the trucks, or we could divert them toward home base.¡±


    ¡°Because¡ª¡±


    The shrill sound of electricity¡¯s whine sliced through the conversation and deep inside my brain. I flinched at the sound, like hearing what a dog whistle actually sounded like for the first time. Then came the stench of ozone, huskier than when Emelia used her powers, more potent than when dad used his in public. O¡¯Reiley barked to get down, slammed his fist against the side of the truck to get the driver¡¯s attention, and the truck swerved hard to the left. I tensed, using my flight to stay in place, and got driven into my by two mercs who slammed into the side of the truck bed.


    I heard the sounds of metal doors banging open. Heard a mercenary yell something foul.


    Golden light blossomed from the rear of the armored truck ahead of us, and I watched, almost as if the world paused, as the gunman hefted the slick black rifle to his shoulder and fired.


    The golden beam of light shot forward, far faster than our truck was swerving away.


    For the third time tonight, I was left with no options as the lead armored truck barreled through the dock¡¯s gates and onto the Lower Olympus streets. Witchling was still standing, her eyes widening, her powers pushing so hard you could just about see the warped air around her.


    Her telekinesis wasn¡¯t working on the beam of light. It ripped through the air toward us.


    I was already up on my feet, then up in the air, shooting toward the shrieking beam of golden light. I wasn¡¯t thinking, just doing. Maybe it was being practical, logical. Ava¡¯s heaviest hitters were in this truck bed, and my plans of joining the Olympiad relied on hers working out.


    Or maybe it was just instinct taking over my mind¡ªinstinct that came from wearing dad¡¯s symbol, from being his daughter¡ªas I shot ahead of the truck, crossed my arms, bit down hard onto my tongue, planted my feet, and felt the impact of the beam slamming against my forearms.


    It wasn¡¯t the pain I felt first; it was the breathlessness of flying through the air. I weighed nothing as I soared. My mind was distant, my body further. Sky, sky, more sky, then the earth and tarmac, my skin rubbed raw and red and bloody grating against the sidewalk. Then the impact. Then the silence. Then the crashing and crunching of glass and metal and thunderous echo of concrete and bricks being blown apart and turned into unbreathable dust that choked my lungs. It lasted for hours, seeing the sky, feeling the earth, then came the sudden pause. No, those seconds before the pause that never comes, and you¡¯re stuck waiting and waiting until it finally does.


    When I stopped, the world stopped with me. Metal followed me into the tiny crater I lay sprawled in, followed even faster by the damning gust of air that shoved dust down my throat.


    And finally, the pain came calling. Whispering at first, then turning into a cry of agony that came out of my mouth as wheezing, breathless gasps of pain. I bit down. Swallowed. Breathed slowly, but couldn¡¯t stop myself from letting my lungs expand faster and faster as I tried lifting my arms, but I felt like a kid trying to hold back tears, and all I could really do was ground down my tongue between my teeth until that pain was what I could focus on. Anything but myself right now. Anything. My first thought came like a knife to the gut: get up, get up, someone¡¯s screaming, and I knew it wasn¡¯t me because I didn¡¯t have the air to scream without passing out, so it was someone close, someone who was close enough to shriek so loudly that it cut through my daze.


    Smoke rolled off my skin and chest. My black shirt was singed, reeking of melted plastic fibers that stuck to my body. I was barefoot, I noted, as I felt grit between my toes. Okay. Not okay, but okay, get up, help whoever¡¯s screaming. I squeezed my eyes shut, shook my head. A spike of pain shot down my spine, rendering me motionless for a second. More screaming. Who was that? I pried open my eyes, blinking through grit and dust and stale, hardened tears.


    I was in some kind of store. At least, what used to be a convenience store.


    Shelves were crumpled around and underneath me. Food was smeared across chunks of rubble just as large as the armored trucks. Right, the trucks. I got shot. Fuck, alright, get up, get going, get those weapons and get home and get into bed and pretend this night didn¡¯t happen.


    But first I had to stop the screaming. Had the store been open just now?


    I couldn¡¯t tell. The fluorescent lights were buzzing and blinking, spitting sparks.


    I didn¡¯t remember getting up. I must have fallen at some point, because I found myself on all fours, shuddering and weak, reeking of smoke and flesh, coughing, spitting, and the next moment I was standing above a lady. She was old. That¡¯s all I knew, as she backpedaled away from me, screaming and crying. I looked down. A man trapped underneath rubble. Heart still beating. Life was still in his eyes. I grabbed hold of the rubble with one arm and lifted, then used my other to pull him out. I didn¡¯t think he was paralyzed, guessing from how fast he staggered to his feet, wary and worried and so terrified he reeked of those damn human pheromones.


    ¡°Sorry ¡®bout your store,¡± I muttered, or at least tried to. ¡°I¡¯ll fix it later. Anyone else?¡±


    A cry from two little voices. I found them huddled in the back of the store. A boy and a girl, both a lot worse off than the older man and woman. The girl¡¯s leg was underneath some rock. The boy had a tiny piece of metal lodged in his thigh. They¡¯d live. The girl might not be able to walk for a few months, but her foot didn¡¯t look crushed as I carried her out of the rubble, just awkward and maybe a little out of shape. She was crying, burying her face into my chest, something I heard from far away as I bodily handed her to the graying woman. The little boy refused to let go of my fingers, squeezing until the man had to pry him away from me. They were staring at me strangely, and so I stared at them back. I guess we were all a little confused right then.


    ¡°Hey,¡± the man said. He stepped on slippery rubble, reached out. ¡°Are you¡ª¡±


    I was out of the store and above the city in seconds. Anger couldn¡¯t even begin to describe what was brewing inside my gut right now. I spotted the convoy, watched as they drove toward Patriot Broadwalk. The ocean was near, a stone throw away for even a human from there. The dock reached into the dark expanse of water, carrying carnival machines and music and strobing purple lights that grasped far into the sky and grazed the brewing storm creeping toward the city.


    The convoy was snaking further away from Lower Olympus and toward the crowds clustered on the dock. A broadwalk bustling with people partying away their night. A ferris wheel took children up toward the sky and back down low. Teenagers sipped alcohol discreetly from bottles they stuffed inside of their jackets as soon as a police officer came into view. Too many people for a public fight; too many civilians who would get caught in the literal crossfire.


    The entire night had been one massive fucking failure, and it wasn¡¯t easing up.


    Gods, it never ends, does it?


    I took a deep breath, wincing, hearing how air rattled down my throat, into my chest, and then into the laboring sacks of my lungs, then carved through the sky toward the armored trucks.


    The first truck was underneath me in a heartbeat. Men shouted, aimed their rifles at me. I had no idea where Ava¡¯s truck was¡ªI was alone in this, but I couldn¡¯t really care right now.


    I flew low, grabbed the rear of the truck, and flipped it over. It careened through the air, throwing heavy industrial sized metal crates onto the road. The truck slammed into the second one, a sound of metal punching down hard on metal. Mercs cried out as they smashed into the ground, snapping their legs and spines. I made sure to twist their rifles around their wrists, leaving them bound in a heaping, miserable bloody pile against the side of the road. I was working on autopilot, my head buzzing, my muscles aching. Nearer to the broadwalk and up into the air again. Closing in on the leading truck firing rapidly at me. The rear doors swung open, revealing another slick black rifle. Another gunman with a knife strapped to his thigh and a wolfish snarl on his face.


    I flew right over the truck, skidded to a stop in front of the road, and let the truck slam into me. I buckled, sure, and I¡¯d feel it in the morning like a bitch, but so would the mercs driving the truck. They did for a moment, I¡¯m sure, when they were alive, before they slammed into the windshield and smashed their skulls into boney bags of pink mushy brains. I swore, pulling myself away from the wreck, climbing onto the hood, groaning for a moment, and jumping down onto the street with a grunt. I staggered as I walked, feeling eyes on me as the civies on the boardwalk skulked closer, pop music following them, neon lights turning the streets shades of red and blue.


    We were way closer to greater New Olympus than I had thought. A few more blocks and the river slicing the city in half would fill my nostrils. Further than that, and Ronnie would¡­


    A mercenary was still alive, the one with the knife. One of the iron crates had bent open, revealing a sealed packet of golden-brown powder inside of it, the warm golden color of roasted marshmallows over a gentle fire. Heroine? I couldn¡¯t tell. I¡¯d always struggled picking drugs apart, but it didn¡¯t matter, because he¡¯d already gotten one packet open, his nose buried in it. And¡­ I paused, tensing, as that stench of rot, of decomposing sewage and bodies, filled my lungs.


    Was it the powder that reeked like that? What was it?


    Who made it? I thought. Why?


    The merc didn¡¯t let me ask any questions. His eyes were ablaze, more electrified than any junkie I¡¯d ever met. He slid the knife from his belt, then lunged. Moved so fast that, if I had been anyone else, his knife would have dug so deep into my gut that it would have come out of my back on the other side, pushing my intestines right out along with his arm. Instead, the blade shattered against my stomach. I felt the pinch of the snapping metal, then looked him dead in the eyes.


    He didn¡¯t give up. He swung the broken blade, whistling through the air. I dodged, stepped back, and slammed the side of my hand against his wrist. His grip on the blade broke. I grabbed it in the air, pulled him close, and plunged it into his chest. But I wasn''t stopping there, even if the civies were watching, even if they were filming¡ªI dragged the blade down his torso, splitting him open from left shoulder to his hip, spilling his guts onto the ruined tarmac like a hot heap of goo.


    His body sagged, empty and useless, and I let him drop to my feet. The blade clattered to the ground, a noise that echoed through the silence. I nudged him, but he didn¡¯t move an inch.


    You couldn¡¯t blame a girl for checking if he was dead, not after tonight¡¯s experiences.


    I breathed hard, panting, trying to stop myself from passing out. I put my hands on my hips, hung my head, and tried to ignore the chattering civies to my left. Air felt like soup down my throat and inside of my lungs, like my body was flooded and lazy. Exhaustion was calling, and so was the first glimmer of early morning sunlight, turning the sky a faint orange on the horizon. Glancing down the street, I heard the distant sound of O¡¯Reiley barking orders. I still couldn¡¯t see them, but they were getting close. Just one phone call back to Damsel, and this mess would be gone in seconds. The powder, I had to deal with that, but I felt the weakness in my joints. Felt how so terribly tired I was going to be when I woke up later today. I¡¯d just have to trust Ava not to sell whatever this drug was. For now, I just had to wait for O¡¯Reiley, then pack it up for tonight.


    And I could finally go home and wash the blood from my hair and fingernails.


    I heard civilians audibly gasp. I thought it was just a group of teenagers getting their eyes on the corpse at my feet and the now cooling scarlet spaghetti beside me, snapping pictures for social media, probably live streaming because, I reminded myself, normal teenagers have social lives they¡¯d want blown up by fame during spring break, instead of actually getting blown up and sent flying through the air and into some poor family¡¯s store. Instead, every single one of them was looking up¡ªup and up to the top of the apartment building on the other side of the road that overlooked Patriot Broadwalk. I froze, too, feeling as my blood turned to ice in my veins.


    Four figures stood on the apartment¡¯s edge. Two men and two women.


    All wearing black suits and white ties and thin, challenging smiles.


    Each of them resonated power I felt deep in my bones.


    Capes.

 Issue #12: Something, Something, Dont Meet Your Heroes - Theyll Try To Kill You Or Hire You

    My immediate reaction wasn¡¯t panic, but some kind of hidden childish excitement at seeing four Capes out in public, then I realized I was smeared in blood, with the entrails of a man squished underneath my boots. I lifted my foot gingerly, watching as his guts came off the tarmac like gum peeling off pavement on a blistering summer day. I hadn¡¯t come into contact with any Capes myself, not as Rylee and definitely not as Olympia, and it was bitterly ironic that Tempest was the first person to meet them, face to face, eye to eye, one of us clearly the villain rooted against.


    I took a cautionary step backward, an inch, and hoped to Zeus above that Damsel or Witchling or, hell, even Ace would come racing down the street and pull me out of here. I couldn¡¯t leave, not in the state I left the entire street in. Besides, these weapons, these drugs that reeked, would be better in Ava¡¯s hand, simply because I¡¯d be able to watch what she did with them. If the Capes got a hold of them, then what would stop them from trying to create more of those weapons? As soon as they vanished into the Olympiad HQ, the next time I would see any of these rifles would probably be when I had a barrel pointed square into my face by one of them.


    Olympia wasn¡¯t universally liked, least of all by the Olympiad. I¡¯d lost count of the amount of times they ¡®condemned me for public endangerment¡¯ or whatever. The only reason they never actively went after me was because¡­ I didn¡¯t know, actually. We just never crossed paths. I guessed, though, that people who only worked on a schedule, a set of instructions written down on a piece of paper, and how tight the hand around their throat squeezed, wouldn¡¯t be the biggest fan of the one girl who dressed up almost every night to do their jobs for them (for free, by the way).


    Emelia said I had a responsibility, and I wasn¡¯t so stupid to think I didn¡¯t know that. A responsibility to the superhuman community around the world to make us all look a little bit better when the official Capes weren¡¯t legally allowed to smile and wave at the cameras like they used to do. To try and clean up the image that had been tarnished after Titan killed hundreds of thousands of people in the span of several hours. That¡¯s when the humans understood that no, their weapons, their governments, and their fragile human spirits didn¡¯t matter in the face of realized power.


    And, yeah, I wasn¡¯t the greatest example of a superhero, but stick with me. I¡¯m trying.


    Olympia was everything the world hated about superheroes¡ªfree. Normals wanted to control us, to use us like we should: as movie stars and athletes, scientists and mathematicians. Not in the military, though, and definitely not in seats of power. They¡¯d rather fork up millions of dollars than see any one of us snug in the oval office, but running for president never crossed my mind. I just wanted to be a superhero, but to them, that word died right along with the Olympians.


    But, and I was just throwing this out there, if a government entity got a hold of weapons that could take down the one person who was actively disobeying international law, then how long would it take for the humans to figure out that if weapons so powerful they could punch the likes of me almost halfway across the city existed, then why need Olympia at all? They could take down supervillains themselves. Then when those were taken care of, as well as the gangs, then¡­


    Well, I¡¯d be the only one left on that list. They wouldn¡¯t be out to kill me. I doubted it. The government wouldn¡¯t go out of their way to kill some teenager just trying to do the right thing.


    The humans needed me, whether they understood that or not. Call it ego, but being a superhero was all I had left in my life. It was all I had going for me. I wasn¡¯t going to be replaced by some Normal with a rifle like the one that put me into that convenience store a minute ago.


    I wasn¡¯t scared. I was just making sure I knew what would happen to the weapons. Plus I wasn¡¯t going to back down from my promise of making sure supervillains stayed hidden because of me. I was going to put in the work, clock in the hours, but I had to survive to actually do that.


    My heart was a drum banging against my chest as the Capes stared me down. Their shadows stretched down the side of the building and across the street, inching toward me as the sun¡¯s rays reached over the horizon. Still no sign of O¡¯Reiley or Damsel. Silence sat heavily in the air. My throat was dry, my palms slickening with sweat. I squinted my eyes, narrowing on each of their faces, and my stomach dropped just as quickly as the mercenary¡¯s at my feet had. These weren¡¯t your average starry-eyed fresh recruits, or people so low on the wrung their names were still black on the public Cape Catalog websites. No, I knew these people. Hell, I¡¯d met one of them and written a school report about meeting them. Gods above, I had sat at his dinner table before, eaten his ice cream and had sleepovers right there in his living room because his sons were¡­


    I cursed as the four of them leaped to the ground, each in their own way. The first down was a slender woman with cornrows and hazel eyes, a blur of movement as she bounced on the balls of her feet, and quite literally, because her shoes weren¡¯t roller blades like they had last been on her junior Cape profile page, but thin, glinting silver blades a lot like ice skates. The other woman shook the earth as she landed, denting the tarmac. She carried a warhammer, one so big it was probably taller and wider than I was. She carried it with ease, resting it on her shoulder. Her platinum blonde hair was braided into one long tail that snaked down her spine, her muscles bulging underneath her flexible black shirt as she rolled her shoulders and worked her neck.


    Then came the two S-Grades, which¡ªof course¡ªhad to be here tonight.


    Dominion¡¯s official ranking was somewhere high up in the world¡¯s top ten, but nobody except the Olympiad really knew the extent of his powers, which made sense when you had the ability to warp the probability of anything you want to your will. And because of that, he appeared beside the two women, one hand in his trench coat pocket, the other toying with a playing card he flipped around his knuckles. His smile was a lot like Ace¡¯s, empty and yet so full of this vileness that you couldn¡¯t really place. He was apparently from Korea, but who could tell when he could most likely change the way he looked at the drop of a hat and a night in front of the mirror.


    Shit, shit, shit, I thought. Glanced over my shoulder: nothing. A street full of wrecked cars, pavement, bent street lights, and a dead body. Where are the supervillains when you need them?


    ¡°Hey, listen,¡± I said, putting my hands up, as well as laying on as thick of a lower east end accent as I could muster. ¡°Nobody¡¯s gotten hurt, ¡®cept a guy who was supposed to get hurt.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s small,¡± Bellatrix¡ªthe near-viking goddess¡ªsaid. ¡°She caused this herself?¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter if she did, she¡¯s a bad guy, and we¡¯re supposed to deal with them,¡± Velocity added. Her speech was rapid, her tongue firing words from her mouth. ¡°And quick.¡±


    ¡°Whaddya say, Poseidon?¡± Dominion said. ¡°We let the new girl deal with this?¡±


    Poseidon was the one Cape that hadn¡¯t made a flashy entrance, but he was the one most of the smartphone cameras were pointed at. He was taller than Dominion and just about Bellatrix¡¯s height, meaning he dwarfed me nearly two times over. He was wide, had the kind of jawline that would get some men questioning if they were as straight as it, and had salt-and-pepper tousled black hair. Each strand had been eaten away by salt water, and the sun had turned his face and skin a golden hue. In his fist was a golden trident, large and sharp and just as tall and rigid as he was.


    His light gray eyes were piercing, slicing right through my chest. I swallowed the lump lodged in the base of my throat. He had dad¡¯s penetrating stare, and who could blame him?


    After all, Poseidon was supposed to take my father¡¯s place as leader of the Olympians after he eventually retired. Dad never had sidekicks¡ªnobody ever kept up with him, not even me.


    But Franklin Parker was the closest thing Zeus ever had to a son.


    That wasn¡¯t bitterness in my voice, by the way¡ªjust plain facts.


    And he was the same guy who used to take Emelia and I to track meets when Ronnie couldn¡¯t, I thought. Fighting him had never crossed my mind, and neither had telling him my secret. It was a little difficult trying to explain to your friend¡¯s dad that you were his former mentor¡¯s daughter, and you dressed up and actively went against the kind of laws that some of the Olympians supported. Sometimes my lives were simpler by keeping them entirely separate.


    But this was one hell of a way to smash them together.


    ¡°Velocity,¡± Franklin said, his voice a baritone carrying through the night. ¡°Make sure the civilians are out of harm''s way. Judging by the mess she¡¯s left, she¡¯s more than just a threat.¡±


    Velocity sighed under her breath, muttering, ¡°Gotcha, I¡¯ll play nanny,¡± then sprung forward, flashing across the first line of civilians and shuttling them away in a blink of an eye. Sparks spat from her skates as she slid across the pavement, startling the Normals as she ran.


    Bellatrix let her hammer fall to the ground; the vibration stumbled the closest cluster of pedestrians. ¡°She¡¯s backing further away from us, and she¡¯s supposed to be that big of a deal?¡±


    ¡°Come on, Bell,¡± Dominion said. ¡°She¡¯s just a girl, be a little nice.¡± He angled his head as if to take a better look at me. Sweat built under my arms and ran down my back. Another look over my shoulder; nothing and nobody. Shit. ¡°Hey, you¡¯re looking kinda nervous. How about we take this somewhere private, like¡­ say a cozy room in the Olympiad? We can talk all of this over with some food. Sounds nice, right? No games. No silly fighting. Just a friendly conversation.¡±


    Bellatrix grunted, folding her arms. ¡°Yes, a friendly conversation between friends.¡±


    ¡°My mom said I shouldn¡¯t listen to strangers,¡± I said. A step back. More civilians vanished as Velocity took them somewhere else. She could only take about four or five at a time. I had about a few minutes at best before the Capes stopped sweet talking me. ¡°Plus it¡¯s way past my curfew.¡±


    Dominion¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°You¡¯re waiting for someone. Friends, maybe? That¡¯s great! How about we wait for them together so we can end this night without any funeral black, huh?¡±


    I swallowed; my throat was desert dry. C¡¯mon, Witchling, I need you right about now.


    I heard nothing in response, just the empty silence that was usually between my ears.


    In a low voice, possibly because Poseidon doubted I had more than one superpower (as was usually the case for humans), he said to Dominion, ¡°I need a barrier along this road, protecting the broadwalk and the apartments. The city can always build a new street. I need her here, and whoever she¡¯s looking for away. Give Velocity two minutes, starting now¡ªnothing more.¡±


    ¡°Patriot¡¯s not gonna be happy we ruined one of his streets,¡± Dominion muttered. ¡°Poor bastards ¡®round these parts are going to be stuck in traffic for days with all those diversions.¡± He raised his hand at me, narrowed his eyes, splayed his fingers. I tensed, waiting for something.


    Nothing came my way, which I was partly thankful for after the amount of times I¡¯d been punched around tonight. But I heard it, the damping of sound that surrounded us. I looked around, squinted, narrowing my vision so far down that I was able to see what he was doing¡ªbut I didn¡¯t get the highest physics test scores for a reason; all I knew was that the air was becoming a little slower, maybe, but not so slow that it was cooling. I brushed my hand backward, faking a cautious step backward and away from them, and felt the stiffness of the air that pressed against my back.


    Not so much a wall, but it was like the air decided I wasn¡¯t going anywhere.


    I¡¯d usually give you an explanation on what his power was, but probability never made any kind of sense to me. All I knew was that he was a threat, right up there alongside Franklin.


    ¡°These containers, that powder and those rifles, what are they?¡± he asked. I nearly answered, was how commanding his voice was. He definitely learnt that trick from dad.


    ¡°You could let me leave with them and I¡¯ll get back to you in about a week.¡±


    ¡°It looks like she¡¯s been shot,¡± Bellatrix said quietly. ¡°She¡¯s still standing, too.¡±


    ¡°Those guns pack a punch,¡± Dominion muttered, then tapped his ear discreetly. ¡°Yeah, those blocks of chaos a few minutes ago were probably from her. She¡¯s durable. Dangerous.¡±


    Bellatrix snorted. ¡°If she can survive, then those rifles must not be powerful.¡±


    ¡°If she can survive being thrown across the city,¡± Poseidon said, ¡°she¡¯s an S-Grade threat.¡±


    Bellatrix looked like she wanted to argue, but judging by their rank and file, she bit her tongue and dug her fingers deep into her meaty bicep. Her braid didn¡¯t move an inch as Velocity ran past her. All I knew about her was that she was a brute of a powerhouse, stronger than most superhumans could ever hope to be. Where she came from or what her real name is weren¡¯t questions that would be going through your mind as she smashed your skull into the point of your spinal column. My bones were aching deep into the marrow, so fighting her would be more like dodging her fists and her warhammer. Besides, I wouldn¡¯t want to fight a Cape. My plan was to stall, stall, stall. Wait until I could somehow get out of here without getting my teeth kicked in.


    The thought crossed my mind sometimes, though, of who would win in a fight against Olympia and an S-Grade Cape. I¡¯d had that argument with hyperactive kids who came into the coffee store plenty of times, playing it up so much that the kids would damn near try and beat me up to prove a point. But the answer was simple: I didn¡¯t know, and I didn¡¯t want to ever find out.


    Superheroes just didn¡¯t fight superheroes, because the last time that happened in New Olympus, dad fought his own teammate to the death, taking most of the Olympians with him.


    ¡°You¡¯d think Olympia would want a slice of this action,¡± Dominion said to both of them. I internally flinched as he muttered, ¡°But I guess the Golden Gal¡¯s got better things to do right now.¡±


    Poseidon¡¯s jaw tensed, but he kept whatever he had to say behind sealed lips.


    Velocity shrieked to a stop beside Bellatrix, panting profusely. Her skates glowed a deep scarlet, and I was sure she was inhaling smoke as she rested her hands on her knees, breathing. ¡°Done,¡± she gasped. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m done escorting all of the civilians to safety, sir. Sirs. Ma¡¯am.¡±


    Time¡¯s up, Ry. I could stop the charade here. Step back and put up my hands and spill my guts to them, telling them everything they needed to know about the Triumvirate, Ava, Lucifer not being in the picture anymore, and whoever the hell Caesar was. I could choose to not fight my heroes. To not fight a man who would probably call me in the morning and ask if the superhuman chaos got in the way of a good night¡¯s rest. I could be a hero and end the games right now before anyone got caught in the crossfire, myself included. Two lives were difficult enough to balance.


    Adding a supervillain twist to the mix would throw me way off course.


    But if I did, then my life would be in the hands of a supervillain. These weapons would be examined and broken down, taken apart and put back together and aimed my way. How long would it take for Damage Control to ¡®somehow¡¯ get their hands on a rifle like this? I wanted to join the Olympiad, yes, I did¡ªI really, really freaking did¡ªbut I also had my reservations. Nothing concrete, but a feeling. A gut feeling. One that grew as Bellatrix picked up her hammer. Something that blossomed when Velocity stood, not panting, and looked me dead in the eyes across the street.


    Nobody¡¯s gonna save you, kiddo, Lucas had told me a long, long time ago. So long ago that I hadn¡¯t even started calling myself Olympia at that point. And if you can¡¯t save yourself, then who can we trust to save the world? The memory came from nowhere, bursting into my mind. He told me to be selfless, to not think too hard about myself when I was nearly invincible and the people I flew around trying to protect were very, very far from it, but if I couldn¡¯t stand my ground for the goals I had and the people I cared about, then how could I ever be anything like my dad?


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    You couldn¡¯t save the world if you buckled at everything it threw your way. I had to trust my better judgment, at least for now, and figure out some way to fix everything another time.


    Trust your instincts, kid, because you¡¯re barely ever gonna have time to think it through.


    My instinct had my fists raised high and feet squared, eyes looking at the hands of those in front of me because that was always the first indicator. I had a goal: stop them from taking the crates and the weapons and the drugs. This is for the city¡¯s sake, I told myself, but I wasn¡¯t so sure about that right now. Fuck it. I¡¯d figure this mess out tomorrow after it was all said and done.


    Or when I was locked away so deep inside of the Olympiad I had nothing better to do.


    A beat of silence resonated through the air. Wind shoved my filthy hair across my face. The stench of spilled gasoline coming from the truck sweetened the air, but burned my throat as I swallowed. Bellatrix¡¯s knuckles whitened. Velocity bent a little at the knees. Dominion and Poseiodon stood perfectly still, watching me with baited interest. With eyes that had seen and experienced far more than I had in my years as a superhero. It was easy fighting supervillains, just because supervillains weren¡¯t so highly trained, never really had the pipeline to follow after they graduated high school. Back in the day, there used to be collectives and guilds of them, people who wanted to sign you up and smuggle you into the hands of the Night Watch or Chaos Legion.


    It was a lot harder fighting people who started their superhero careers in middle school, trained through high school, skipped going to Olympus U and went straight to the Olympiad.


    They had skill. Experience. I had whatever else was left in the gas tank.


    Just survive until they get here, Ry. They¡¯ll come. They¡¯ve got to.


    My stomach turned, knowing I was trusting supervillains to have my back.


    ¡°Seventh positioning,¡± Poseidon said quietly. ¡°Engage with immediate effect.¡±


    Velocity crouched, then darted toward me. I saw the sparks spit upward from the concrete. Heard the shriek of metal as her blades sliced along the tarmac. I waited until she was close, then¡ª


    She ran past me, skidding to a halt behind me. I turned, stepping back to keep my peripheral on Poseidon and the rest of the Capes, and watched Velocity come to a stand still. She grinned, an expression that quirked her thin lips, as she cracked her knuckles and ran toward me again. Once more I stepped out of her way, catching a gust of wind so strong I staggered. Nothing. Not a single hit. Again and again. Turning me around in circles as she ran straight past me so many times I lost count. The stench of heated metal stung my throat. I forced my eyes to follow her movements, trying to pick out a pattern, but they were random. Routes picked in milliseconds.


    When I realized what she was doing, I snapped around on my heels, facing the others.


    Bellatrix lunged forward with one mighty leap, something I felt more than heard as the ground shuddered with the impact of her shooting forward. She bellowed as she came down through the air, warhammer raised. I leapt out of the way as she slammed into the concrete, missing her by inches as chunks of stone snapped against my skin. She didn¡¯t pause¡ªshe swung the hammer around, forcing me to roll away with a curse. Velocity was on my case before I could even get onto my feet. She planted a right hook to my jaw, and a brief flash of pain flooded my mouth.


    It tasted warm and metallic. I spat it out, then wiped the blood off my lips and onto the back of my hand. Fuck, I thought. She hits hard for a speedster. Or maybe I was just too worn out.


    I didn¡¯t have the time to figure it out. Bellatrix followed the hook by swiping her hammer through the air, forcing me backward, and right into Velocity¡¯s rapid set of punches she planted into my gut, my side, then across my face for good measure. The world blurred. My ears rang. I took a step back, then got shoved forward by the stiff barrier Dominion had created. I glanced down the street, hopeful to see something or someone racing my way. All I saw was Velocity¡¯s face suddenly appear in my hazy vision, fist raised, a blur of warped motion. I dodged, missing her jab. I fainted a blow to her ribs and followed by swiping my leg underneath her. She leaped over it, getting away.


    ¡°You know,¡± I said, panting as I staggered. ¡°You guys really are profess¡ª¡±


    The air shifted around me, shoving me straight toward Bellatrix. I saw Dominion flick his wrist, watched as Poseidon gripped his trident with both hands. Bellatrix swung her hammer down. My eyes widened, fear spiking through my chest as I squared my feet and raised my hands, catching the blow that sent a shockwave through my body and into the pavement. Spider web-like-cracks spread around me as my knees buckled. I grunted underneath her strength and her glaring eyes as she took a step forward, towering over me, forcing my arms to lock and bend at the elbow. I gritted my teeth as sweat trickled into my eyes, a bi-product of looking right up at her.


    My toes dug into the rubble. The ragged black cloth of a sleeveless top stretched as my muscles tensed. I wanted so badly to use my powers, to delve into the pool of it calling my name.


    But a part of me couldn¡¯t help but relish in the look on Bellatrix¡¯s face when I didn¡¯t move an inch backward. Further into the ground, sure, by several inches as she pressed harder and harder. But not backward. My arms quaked and so did my core. My shoulder burned with pain that went down my spine and didn¡¯t stop until my lower back was a screaming mess. But she was wasting time, wearing me out. Something I only figured out when Velocity shoulder checked me.


    The hit was only good enough to stumble me, shoving me out of the warhammer¡¯s way, but it was all Dominion needed to send me passing through the brick wall of an apartment building. I fell on my back and rolled onto my side, finding myself inside of a dimly lit lobby. The silence was sudden and oppressive, glaring compared to the whine in my ears. I glanced around, looking at moth-eaten drapes and time-chewed sofas. The carpet beneath me reeked, and I found that out the hard way as I seamlessly fazed through it. My gut lurched as I fell. I tried to fly upward, an automatic response to saving myself, but gravity shoved my back down, down, down until I hit the hard concrete of a gloomy boiler room. Steam sat in the air, musty and humid, warping around me as I picked myself up off the floor, a groaning, aching heap of body parts.


    I swore, getting onto my elbow. ¡°I didn¡¯t even finish,¡± I whispered, then spat a goblet of blood onto the floor. An emergency exit light illuminated the darkness a deep scarlet, painting the grimy walls and dusty floor blood red. The creaking groans and creaks of archaic infrastructure echoed as I stood. I was wary. Cautious. Searching my surroundings for anything and anyone, but all that was near me was this hazy, sticky darkness that reeked of dead rodents and heavy, sulfur-smelling steam. My gut turned. Sweat rolled down my spine as I wiped it off my brow.


    ¡°Scared?¡± a voice said. I spun around. Dominion stood beside a hulking boiler, its pipes hissing through the tape keeping superheated steam passing within them. ¡°Don¡¯t be. We¡¯re the good guys, you know. I really do mean it when we say all of this can be over in a few seconds.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯d have to make a good decision first,¡± I said. ¡°And look at me.¡±


    He chuckled, his sharp canines glinting in the harsh light. ¡°Not the picture of good choices, I know.¡± He didn¡¯t move. Didn¡¯t flick his fingers. What was going on up above me? Were they taking the drugs and the weapons? Shit, Ry, of course they are. He trapped me here on purpose.


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m trying to do the right thing here. Those weapons¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªare special grade assault rifles,¡± he answered, waving his hand through the wispy air. ¡°Those drugs are a mix of chemicals so potent I¡¯m sure even my nose wouldn¡¯t be able to sniff it.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°So¡­ you know what they are?¡±


    ¡°I know that a supervillain wouldn¡¯t fight so hard for anything less than average,¡± Dominion said. The playing card he rolled between his fingers snapped against each knuckle, like a clock counting down. ¡°And, by my guess, you¡¯re not the sharpest tool in the shed, so I doubt you¡¯re the brains of this operation, but you¡¯re probably their heaviest hitter. Like a hammer. A chainsaw. You do the damage and you get used, then you get thrown away when they¡¯re done.¡±


    I clenched my jaw, annoyance creeping in. ¡°I¡¯m not some tool for them to use. I chose to be here tonight. Hell, I could¡¯ve been doing anything else except fighting you, but here I am.¡±


    ¡°Right, exactly,¡± he said. ¡°Because here is where they swung their hand.¡±


    My nails dug into the meat of my palm. ¡°Kinda starting to hate the sound of your voice.¡±


    Dominion laughed, a small, silent sound that slithered out of his mouth. ¡°You sound like my ex-wife.¡± He stepped forward. ¡°How about you cut your losses and tell us everything. And before you interrupt me, let me clue you in on something: the Olympiad would love to have you.¡±


    His words didn¡¯t register for a moment, but when they did, they hit like a truck. ¡°What the hell?¡± I whispered. ¡°But you just kicked the shit out of me. You just called me a supervillain.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but usually you¡¯d be dead by now, you villains,¡± he said. ¡°See, we¡¯re not technically supposed to kill your kind, only incapacitate with any force necessary, but oh, boy, you should see the mess we leave behind sometimes. It¡¯s just our luck that the government is really good with a mop and a bucket. Those are petty criminals, though. Small fries. You? You¡¯re strong, kid. Not a single person has ever stopped Bellatrix¡¯s hammer before, and look at you! I bet when you¡¯re at your best, this fight would have been a walk in the park for a kid like you. Easy as pie.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck do you want?¡± I growled. I hated this deep into my bones. Something told me I should get out of here. That I should burst through the concrete above me and escape.


    But this tiny, dimly lit room was a clenched fist holding onto me tightly. Like we were standing in a different reality all-together, somewhere where only the two of us existed. I was in just as much danger on the surface as I was here with Dominion, and, admittedly, nobody having my back had pissed me off a little. I was defending a villain¡¯s keep, only for none of the actual villains to come and actually get a piece of the pie I was protecting from the Capes. Was I fighting too hard for someone like Ava? Our success was mutual, but, like she said, we¡¯re natural enemies. This entire night had been one giant shit show from the start, like Ava had just thrown her most powerful superhumans at the problem and expected it to all work out. If she didn¡¯t care¡­


    So what happens now, Ry? I thought. You work for everyone but yourself now?


    What happened to this superhero gig being easy like in junior high?


    ¡°Supervillains just don¡¯t exist like they used to,¡± he said. ¡°But when they crop up, like you, we take note. We need strong superhumans. People who don¡¯t have anything going for them except petty gang wars and squabbles in the filth. We need Capes without faces and names. The kind of people who wouldn¡¯t mind cleaning up the streets their own way. Superhumans want cash these days, the movie roles and the sponsors and the trophies. Villains don¡¯t always want those.¡±


    ¡°And who said I¡¯m anything like your average supervillain?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not,¡± he said, shrugging. ¡°You¡¯re different.¡±


    I cocked an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re gonna just bet on me being ¡®different¡¯?¡±


    Dominion smiled a little wider, his narrow eyes glinting with something dark. ¡°You think the likes of me got into the Olympiad because I had Zeus pajamas and Cleopatra posters?¡± He shook his head. Another step forward. Pipes whistled around him, a silent, high-pitched scream. ¡°I¡¯m just saying, kid. You could be comfortable and not have to deal with these silly little ego bouts in the streets. You¡¯re a prodigy waiting to happen. You¡¯ve got gold in your blood and you don¡¯t even know it.¡± He smiled, stopping the card he turned in his hands. ¡°You could be a hero, kid.¡±


    My blood chilled. ¡°Heroes don¡¯t work with villains.¡±


    ¡°Sure, maybe in the 1950s when Peacemaker was still kicking it,¡± Dominion said, lowering his voice. ¡°But not anymore. Today, right now, we get shit done however it has to get done.¡±


    ¡°So you hire people who would get locked up by the Olympians?¡± I asked. My chest was tight, squeezing around my heart. ¡°The Olympiad isn¡¯t a place for supervillains. I know that.¡±


    ¡°Nobody said it was a place for heroes, either,¡± he continued. ¡°It¡¯s a place for people who¡¯ve got a job and a duty to do, and have the guts to do it. It¡¯s not pretty. It¡¯s not always fun. But we¡¯ve got a purpose in these clothes and these badges that you can¡¯t find anywhere on the streets.¡±


    I took my chance as he was talking to shoot toward him, nothing but a bluff to throw him off. I fazed through him, a weird feeling like passing through dry oil, and came out the other side. I slid on my feet, coming to a stop beside a network of hissing pipes. Dominion sighed, turning around leisurely to face me. He was a scarlet shadow amidst the black surrounding him. This tall, leering figure of a man with a thin smile and crude eyes. I shuddered as he continued speaking.


    ¡°How much longer do you want to be someone else¡¯s pet?¡± he asked dryly.


    ¡°I¡¯m not some fucking pet,¡± I spat. ¡°I¡¯m doing this ¡®cause I want to, remember?¡±


    ¡°No, kid. You¡¯re doing this because you have to. People don¡¯t choose to become supervillains, or become superheroes,¡± he said. ¡°We all do it for one reason or another. Always.¡±


    ¡°What if a girl just likes the thrill of screwing with Capes?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Then you¡¯re just as dumb of a little dog as your owner probably thinks you are.¡±


    I was really, really starting to hate the sound of his voice.


    ¡°I know who I am and what I can do,¡± I said, tightening my fists, feeling heat swell inside my gut. ¡°And if you think you can fuck with that, then you¡¯re as thick as they come, jackass.¡±


    He smiled even wider. ¡°See? Cut from the same cloth, me and you. The only difference is that I know what I want, and I took the chance when I got it. If you don¡¯t, someone¡¯s gonna get you. If it ain¡¯t us, it¡¯ll be Olympia, and she makes us look like a troop of God¡¯s finest angels.¡±


    ¡°So, what, I come to you for protection?¡± I said. ¡°To find my ¡®purpose¡¯ or whatever?¡±


    ¡°Nah, you¡¯ve already got a purpose,¡± he said. ¡°You come to us to make it a reality.¡±


    I was silent for a moment, words thick and heavy on my tongue. Finally, I whispered what was circling my mind: ¡°You expect me to betray the people I work with, just for that?¡±


    ¡°Betray is such a boring word,¡± Dominion said. ¡°All I want is for you to be on the right side when this powder keg of a city finally lights up. The only reason I came here tonight was because we heard chatter about a powerful Supe, maybe a possible S-Grade. Now, maybe you¡¯re not quite there yet, but in a few years, with enough training, you could be just as good as anyone.¡±


    Just as good as anyone. And I wouldn¡¯t have to be a supervillain to afford it.


    Silence dragged between us, seconds I purposefully let slip through my fingers. A ball sat in my chest, making me feel uncomfortable. Weighing the options, this sounded so much better than anything Ava offered me. No lies and secrets. No bullshit black mail. And no paying my dues and earning my stripes just to afford the first semester¡¯s training in the Olympiad. But¡­ That feeling was still there, of not being comfortable, happy, with everything standing in front of me.


    Dominion was one of the few Capes the world knew by name and face and voice. Capes weren¡¯t allowed to be superstars, just because they were officially government agents. But he was trying to hire Tempest, and not, well, me. Was Olympia just not good enough for them? What did I have to do to prove myself to them? Not once had I gotten a talk like this from a single Cape. The closest I¡¯d come to getting recruited was when I practiced my interviews in the bathroom mirror to my shampoo bottles. But this is who they chose: the new supervillain in town wreaking havoc.


    Not good enough. Almost there. Just keep pushing, Rylee, just fly a little faster.


    I shook away the memories. Whatever. I didn¡¯t want to hear any of this from Dominion. It was stubborn, I know, and maybe stupid on some level, but getting in had to be on my terms. And maybe that¡¯s why I wanted to do it as Rylee and not anyone else, just so that I could feel like¡­ like who I was¡ªwho I actually was¡ªamounted to more than just the girl who put on the costume. Gods, I was getting a headache thinking about this, and maybe getting punched wasn¡¯t helping.


    But I knew for certain that Tempest wasn¡¯t getting into the Olympiad off the basis of being a supervillain that they could stuff in one of their monkey suits. If I was going to put on a white tie, Rylee was going to be the one who figured it out all on her own. Dammit, Lucas could teach me.


    Still, if the Olympiad had been hiring villains all this time - for whoever knows how long - then what else were they hiding?


    The last thing I wanted to do was doubt the only thing left that dad built and left behind for me.


    ¡°Stuff it,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll get what I want however way I want it. No shortcuts here.¡±


    ¡°You sure?¡± he asked. ¡°We have dinner with the mayor if whenever we have a good month.¡±


    ¡°Remind me to kidnap her so I can hang out and eat shitty steak in a few weeks, too.¡±


    Dominion laughed a lot louder than he had before, a sound that echoed through the silence, mingling with the whispering steam. He raised his hand and flicked the playing card he held between his fingers at me in one smooth motion. It sliced through the air, and I caught out of reflex just before it whizzed past my ear¡ªa heckling red jester. ¡°Well, if you ever change your mind.¡±


    ¡°What, does the Olympiad put trackers in their business cards now?¡±


    ¡°Cheating¡¯s beneath me,¡± he said. ¡°If I wanted to find you, I could. That¡¯s just a gift from me to you, but I guess you¡¯ll only be able to use it if you actually survive fighting us to figure out how to use it. Until then, kiddo, I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, ¡®cause it¡¯s gonna be hell.¡±

 Issue #13: The Boy Wonder

    In moments like this, a single thought would cross my mind: what the hell would dad do?


    From the movies I watched and the comics I read, the interviews I devoured and the street talk I overheard, dad wasn¡¯t the kind of guy who would even bother breaking a sweat in a fight against most¡ªif not all¡ªsuperhumans. What kind of situation would someone like him be in, anyway, if he had to raise his hand to someone else? Zeus was power. He was this towering, overbearing, embodiment of everything a human couldn¡¯t even hope to be, and picturing it, seeing him standing over you, a solid mass of muscle with gold emblazoned on his chest, and his almost white eyes gouging through your innards with his glare, you would feel powerless. Completely and utterly powerless. Your throat would dry. Your knees would buckle. And sure, maybe I was over exaggerating, but there was a reason only he got a statue that dominated the bay instead of all the Olympians who died fighting Titan. He was a symbol. A shield. More than what was possible.


    He made the rest of us feel small, Lucas had told me, even though he never said it.


    And I¡¯ll admit, right here, in this humid, hellish boiler room, staring down Dominion almost made me feel the same way. It had been a long time since fear had knocked against my ribs, but my heart was doing a great job bruising them with each knock. I was used to punching my way through problems. Kicking and throwing, flipping and twisting. My body was my superpower.


    But Dominion¡¯s powers went way, way past anything I knew about the world. I sucked at physics and I sucked at math, and I was out of my depth fighting an S-Grade Olympiad agent.


    Could be easier if you were Olympia, Ry. Just fly right through the ceiling and vanish.


    But I¡¯d gotten punched around too many times tonight to do anything except stand my ground. Flying would be a drain on whatever I had left in the reserves, meaning escape would be nearly impossible, and if I was planning on flying, it would have to be quick, quicker than I could muster, just to escape. I couldn¡¯t screw up. Couldn¡¯t hesitate one bit. Fuck. How the hell do I get out of here? Dominion was watching me, silent and stoic, his eyes playfully dark, shaded by the red glow surrounding us. Above me were the drugs and the rifles¡ªthe tickets to what I wanted.


    In front of me was everything that would put a stop to that if I dared move an inch.


    ¡°Well, kid?¡± he said. ¡°How about you give me a dance and show me what you can do?¡±


    What other option did I have but to accept?


    Call it an informal application, because sometimes the only way through was through.


    I wrenched a scathingly hot metal pipe free from the boiler it was connected to, then turned it in my hands. Steam spewed out in a high pitched whistle, a shriek that sliced through the silence and blew over my skin. I was never great with any kind of weapon in my hands, something Lucas and I found out the hard way, but Dominion didn¡¯t know that, and his training kicked into gear the moment I gripped the jagged steel pipe. He tensed, raised his hand toward me, and waited with the stiff experience that fighting superhumans gave you. His eyes narrowed, and I could almost see the gears rotating inside his head, clicking and whirring, trying to figure out how to react next.


    I stepped forward, and Dominion flicked his fingers. A force slammed into my back, forcing me to my hands and knees. The floor cratered. I bit down hard on my tongue, tasting hot blood. The boiler beside me buckled and bent, too, sending its archaic bolts shooting into the concrete like bullets fired from a gun. Several passed through him, impaling the pipes behind him. The grotesque arrangement of boilers in this room was overbearing, cramped and packed together. It was a powder keg waiting to happen. An inch away from going up, but also a few more degrees of heat from lighting. The more I strained my body, my muscles, the hotter I would become.


    The idea I got was stupid, maybe deadly, but I was all out of options. Nobody was here to watch my back, so pulling myself out of this mess was the only way I saw myself going home tonight. I¡¯d have to trust that Dominion was more of a superhero than he was letting on right now if this plan somehow worked, because I struggled to hear anything through the whistle of boilers around us, and I figured that was on purpose. Poseidon must be above us, with Bellatrix and Velocity waiting in the wings, maybe with a few more Capes handling the cargo, too. I had to remind myself, even as Dominion stepped forward, forced his hand down, which doubled the pressure on my back, that these guys were the heroes. The actual superheroes by state law.


    And they were going to earn their paychecks tonight.


    Let¡¯s see how hot you can run, Ry.


    I gritted my teeth, curled my hands into shaking fists. My knuckles dug into the concrete, and I shoved the floor off my chest and inch by painful inch further away from me. Dominion only increased the pressure, then pressed his ear and said something I couldn¡¯t hear. My arms quaked. I swear I could feel my guts trying their hardest to burst from my torso. It took all I had not to get pushed halfway into the concrete, and the jagged pipe in my hand only bit into my palm. The boilers surrounding me buckled, too, but he didn¡¯t care. He could stop an explosion. Snap his fingers and dissipate the steam or the heat or whatever. And that¡¯s exactly what I was counting on.


    I forced my knees underneath me, getting into a crouch. Then I launched myself forward, using my flight and his force to shoot toward Dominion. He swore and dodged, rolling away. I spun in midair and threw the pipe at him, a dart that whistled through his chest and punctured the boiler he slammed into. He stumbled, staggered, then reared away from the heat that seared his palm. Distracted. I rolled, stood, then flew toward him, feeling my skin getting hotter, feeling my muscles getting worked up as I threw a jab and a hook to his body, both passing through him.


    Dominion fazed through me, walking past as if I wasn¡¯t there, and my fists slammed into the boiler. Now it buckled, bulging like some over-expanding balloon. I spun around, a hint of a smile on my face, and pressed my hand against it. The burn was instant, and I was so out of it¡ªadmittedly a little light-headed, hungry, dehydrated, and tired¡ªthat I almost laughed at the look on his face. Shock. Surprise. Whatever you wanted to call it, they flashed across his thin eyebrows and pale skin so quickly you¡¯d think he was a speedster as he watched the boiler suddenly expand.


    Remember how I said my body gets hot when I use my powers? As Olympia, I got hot enough to maybe get the water in the bay into a boiling broth if I took a swim in it. But without my powers, my body had to compensate for what it didn¡¯t have¡ªI used more energy this way, felt more exhausted faster, and I figured this out the hard way when I almost burned my track gear clean off my body in middle school before I fully got my powers. And now, in this boiler room?


    I might as well have been ripping heat right out of the earth¡¯s core.


    At least, it felt that way when the explosion happened.


    It wasn¡¯t flashy, it wasn¡¯t colorful, but it was loud, and it was hot, and it was all kinds of fucking awful. A sudden, explosive force punched me forward, sending me careening into another boiler. The air got sucked out of my lungs. Shrapnel ripped through the air, impaling the concrete and the walls, other boilers, too, and shredding pipes. They were old (being in Lower Olympus, what else did you expect), and the safety systems probably didn¡¯t work. I realized that a second after I got the wind kicked out of me by the second explosion. Then the third. I was lost in a storm of metal and shrieking air, blazing winds that rushed over me like this never ending wave of cascading heat. I tried to find my bearings, but the sound of the thing, this explosion, rang so deeply into my mind that I could hardly concentrate. I blinked hard. Cupped my ears. Focused.


    And I saw Dominion in the center of the room, focusing hard on containing the explosions, sweat beading on his brow as he spread his arms around him, trying his damndest to keep himself from getting cut up whilst simultaneously containing the blast. Great. Great. I flew toward him, clattered into by steel and brick, dust and debris, and he saw me before he could stop me from wrapping my arms around his waist and launching both of us straight up, up, up toward the ceiling. I clutched onto him, and I was moving too fast, taking advantage of the explosion, too, for him to concentrate completely on offense. The ceiling neared. The blast followed, propelling me closer.


    At the last second (as I had totally planned), we passed right through the ceiling. The feeling was cold and distant, scrambling my brain as if tiny icy fingers were probing through it. Another floor, followed by empty room fat with shadows and spiderwebs, a broom closet that blew apart as I blasted through them. Dominion was clutching onto me now, desperate, angry, swearing like he¡¯d just learnt the words a second ago and now his tongue was firing them out of his mouth. We passed through each floor of the apartment complex, some empty, others not so much.


    I dodged what Normals I could, and the rest of them simply fazed through me. I was just about starting to get the hang of it when the chill early morning air of New Olympus washed over us as I exploded into the sky. I gasped, breathing in, and dropped Dominion the first chance I got. It felt like resurfacing, breathing in air that wasn¡¯t thick with anything but the ocean¡¯s musk. I stopped for a moment on the rooftop, leaning against a rattling air conditioning unit as I coughed and wiped spittle from my mouth. I heard Dominion swear. Watched as he tried to get up. He was a mess of limbs and tousled hair. His skin was hot red in places, burnt by the heat of the boilers. Almost down and out. Weak enough to stay in one spot, breathing ruggedly through his mouth.


    But I wasn¡¯t going to stick around and find out what else he had up his sleeve.


    I jogged to the other side of the roof, then leapt onto the lip of the building. I looked down, and almost collapsed with relief when I saw the cargo still spread across the street. We must not have gone for long, or else they would have taken it all away. Still, where the hell were the rest of my apparent crew? Seems like I¡¯ve got to do freaking everything myself tonight. No, not tonight. Today. I shook my head and leaped down the side of the building, hoping to catch Velocity by¡ª


    ¡°Alternate Realm: Dungeon.¡±


    The world froze for a beat of a second, the words echoing through my mind.


    I hung suspended in midair, not falling, but stuck in a molasses I couldn¡¯t force myself through. My thoughts blurred and slowed. I could feel each pellet of blood rushing through my veins. Then came the darkness, quick and eternal and so painfully cold I gasped with shock.


    Then it felt like I was in space, or low earth orbit. Spinning aimlessly. Weightless. Surrounded by blackness and empty sound. Sounds that echoed and vanished. Noises that resonated into my bones and rattled my marrow. I searched around me, pulse quickening. Where the fuck am I? Each breath came out as coils of steam, spewing through my clenched teeth.


    Frightening, isn¡¯t it, the abyss? a voice said. Dominion.


    ¡°Where am I?¡± I yelled, but I might as well have whispered. ¡°Let me go!¡±


    See, that¡¯s the thing¡ªyou¡¯re not supposed to leave this place, nobody is, and I don¡¯t pull this card unless I¡¯m in dear need of winning a fight that¡¯s taking too long. His words came from everywhere and nowhere. They seeped through my skin and into my blood, like ice oozing into a gaping wound. I felt sick, almost puked, as my hairs rose in tandem. Something was with me in the darkness. Something I couldn¡¯t hear or smell or see or feel, but just knew was there. I tensed, scared, balling my fists, but I felt weak as my hands shook with the effort. Oh, don¡¯t fight. There¡¯s no point wasting your energy. I¡¯ll give you enough time to reconsider your actions before, well, it doesn¡¯t matter what comes before, because you¡¯re either going to tell me what I want, or die.


    What the hell is this place? I thought. He said dungeon, but, like, the old kind? Lucas never prepared me for this. I didn¡¯t even know where to start. Was Dominion here with me? Was this some kind of hallucination he was forcing into my mind? Maybe. But your guess was as good as mine. I could swing my fists for all I cared, but I wasn¡¯t going to touch him. Hell, he might not even be here with me in this darkness. Or maybe I wasn¡¯t wherever he was anymore.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°I told you before,¡± I shouted. ¡°I¡¯ve got no clue about the rifles or the drugs.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not interested in the mundane.¡± A noise, a deep, bone shaking reverberation, shook through my body. Something was getting closer. More restless. ¡°I¡¯m interested in who you are.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m the idiot who made a stupid decision,¡± I replied. ¡°I learnt my lesson, now let me¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not human,¡± he said quietly. I clenched my jaw, narrowed my eyes.


    ¡°Pretty judgemental to call a villain that, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    Again a deep rumble. I was certain I saw something shift through the dark, this snaking mass of something even darker. I heard¡­ sounds, like leather shoving against dead flesh.


    ¡°He¡¯s scared,¡± Dominion whispered, sounding¡­ astonished, amazed, as if he¡¯d just been told his greatest secret. ¡°He¡¯s frightened of you. Humans don¡¯t last long here. But you¡­¡±


    ¡°Like you said,¡± I muttered, turning in a slow circle, trying to follow the shuffling noises. ¡°I¡¯ve got gold in my blood, and like I said: I¡¯m not your average supervillain. I¡¯m a little different.¡±


    Silence, then he said, ¡°Maybe, but fears are overcome, and you still bleed like the rest.¡±


    The shuffling halted, a full stop in the silence. I waited, counted the seconds, but could barely focus as my heart raced and my gut twisted into a knot. My saliva was bitter, my tongue raw, as a gurgling, rumbling, ancient sound echoed through the dark. I probably wouldn¡¯t have heard it without my super hearing, was how low it was. So low I could feel it shake through me, as if it was trying to check what I was inside and out. Pick me apart, see what it liked most to devour.


    And then I saw¡­ it. This thing. It was yellow and threaded with pulsating veins, like some glassy polished surface that reflected the fear painted over my face. I hovered backward, trying to get a better look, but for as far as I could see, up and down, far above and far below, the puke-yellow wall was all I could stare at. I wanted to reach out, to touch it, see if it really was just this pulsating wall of yellow flesh that I could hurt, maybe force my way through and kill.


    Until thick black flesh rushed from beneath and above me, meeting together with a quiet slap of skin. Sleek clear fluid spread over the yellow, pulled over it by the thick fleshy veils.


    Then it clicked a second later.


    It was an eye. A fucking eye.


    I shrieked and backpedaled, twisting around and shooting away. It didn¡¯t feel like flying through air, but more like forcing my way through earth¡¯s orbit. Stiff, resistant, and when I glanced over my shoulder, the orb was still staring at me, not moving, not blinking anymore, as if it was simply waiting for me to realize that no matter how far I flew or how fast, I was trapped here with it. I wasn¡¯t going anywhere. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere to run. It could watch as I tired, and it would watch as I floated helplessly in the darkness when my body eventually gave into tiredness.


    I was out of options. I didn¡¯t know what to do. My gut told me to fight. To kill.


    To protect myself. Because if I died here, wherever here is, then who¡¯d save the world?


    And a very, very small (but painfully, painfully hot) feeling in my chest drove home the venomous picture of mom wandering around the house at night, undoubtedly finding her way into my old bedroom eventually, angry with herself that she even let me storm out. Bitter about so many things she couldn¡¯t say because only the versions of me in old picture frames around the house would be there to listen to her if I died. Pictures of the little girl who still dreamt of being a superhero¡ªJust like dad someday!¡ªbut would leave the house every night, worrying her sick.


    I told her I would be fine, and we argued about it until I inevitably smashed the front door into wooden shrapnel when I left, or¡­ well, when she kicked me out. I knew she called. I knew she might want to talk, to clear the air and figure things out before too much time got between our emotions and our words. But gods above, I was doing just fine, and I was going to make sure she knew that. Ego? Yeah, it was, just because I hated losing, even if it meant trying to kill this thing.


    It registered that killing it might just be impossible, but I¡¯d been there and done that.


    Before I knew it, I was flying back toward it. The yellow rushed closer into view. My nails dug into the skin of my palm, getting deeper and deeper as I shot directly into its path.


    I was inches away from it. My fist was close enough to graze the visceral liquid coating its large, glossy eyeball, when a voice popped into my head. A voice I had hated a few hours ago.


    But a voice I almost cried out for when I heard Witchling say: Shatter.


    And quite literally, cracks appeared around me, like seams in a tapestry, splintering and fracturing, spreading like crooked fingers, and finally smashing apart the darkness and the overbearing, impossibly large eye. Suddenly I was back in the air, falling like I had never left. I cartwheeled through the sky, grabbing hold of a ledge and swinging myself onto it in a low crouch. I shook my head, grabbed hold of my bearings. I glanced above me. Dominion wasn¡¯t there, but I could hear him on the rooftop, groaning, shuffling around, maybe writhing in some kind of pain.


    Below me, the rest of the supervillains had arrived. Knuckles was going toe-to-toe with Bellatrix, dodging her warhammer and planting punches so hard into the woman¡¯s stomach that the impact rattled the window behind me. Velocity was trying to get close to the cargo, but all she got in return were these pulsing explosions that sent her skidding away. Small EMP blasts, changing her magnetic pull. She wasn¡¯t a speedster by right, just by proxy¡ªshe used magnetism to run, or something like that, meaning she pushed herself along rather than actually running around.


    Damsel was popping in and out of existence, covered by a bandaged O¡¯Reiley. They all looked beaten up, a little bruised and bleeding from cuts and scrapes. The mercs that were here could only offer cover fire, ensuring that Poseidon stayed far enough away from the cargo to give Damsel the precious seconds she needed to gas herself up again and go for another round.


    But Franklin wasn¡¯t focused on the bullets; he was focused on Witchling.


    She stood in front of him, arms slightly raised, crimson hair billowing. Neither moved, but tendrils of water were snaking around Poseidon¡¯s trident, jerking and twisting like vipers.


    Tempest, she said in my mind. Are you alright? Can you fight?


    What the fuck was that back there? I asked. Was that some kind of illusion?


    Your questions will be answered, trust me, but our priorities lie elsewhere for now.


    I figured that they were pretty big freaking questions, but she was right: eldritch monsters later, drugs and rifles right now. So I leaped down onto the street, caught in the early morning sunlight glow, and landed behind Bellatrix. She bellowed, swung her fist around, and I ducked underneath it. Knuckles lunged, slamming her shoulder into the woman¡¯s ribs. A stumble. A chance for me to slam my fist into her gut. It felt like punching a brick wall, but she felt it. Bellatrix gasped as spit burst from her mouth. She swung her hammer on instinct, catching my shoulder.


    ¡°On the ground, through the air, she¡¯ll look upward and go from there!¡± Ace shouted. It came like a shock, hearing his voice, but I couldn¡¯t spot him for now. What the hell was he¡ª


    ¡°Goddamit, kid, just listen to me!¡±


    I growled in frustration and did what he asked, dropping to all fours, narrowly missing a hammer blow that would have caught me across the head. Knuckles tried to punch her spine, but got caught in the full swing of the hammer. She went flying, slamming into a food stall on the boardwalk. I shot into the air, and just like Ace said, Bellatrix looked up right away. She held her hammer tight in her fist, knuckles whitening. She wouldn¡¯t swing fast enough, not as I came down hard, smashing my heel into the bridge of her nose. Blood burst from her face, poured down her lips. She reeled, put a meaty hand to her face as she cursed, and when I landed, I bounded toward her, barely stopping my momentum as I slammed my knee directly into her forehead with a crunch.


    Bellatrix toppled backward, shaking the tarmac when she fell.


    I wasn¡¯t going to give Ace credit for that, but I internally thanked him just a little.


    But that was just about the only good thing happening on the street. Witchling wasn¡¯t where I had last seen her. She was now far away from Franklin, drenched and furious, creating a batter around the last few large containers. Damsel was taking longer to teleport, coming back after a handful of seconds and staggering against Ace. Sweat matted her blonde hair, turning it dark. Franklin was advancing, with torrents of water zipping through the air like javelins. Witchling stopped the first and the second. The third ripped across her shoulder, spitting blood onto the tarmac. They were warning shots, because if he wanted to, the ocean was right there.


    Warning shots or not, Wtichling was still staggering back every few steps. She deflected most of them, sending them far into the sky, only for Franklin to send them shooting into the small army of mercenaries. He wasn¡¯t killing them, no¡ªbecause Capes didn¡¯t kill, remember?¡ªbut getting hit with that kind of force would knock anyone right off their rocker, Super or otherwise.


    Someone was going to have to bite the bullet and take him on, to distract him as Damsel tried to take away the three remaining crates. She would vibrate, shake to the subatomic level, but then stagger and vomit and lean against the crates. She needed a cool down period, and we didn¡¯t have that kind of time. Velocity was picking apart the mercs at the rear, having exhausted their charges. She was pissed, and the second long shrieks of pain, then a sudden missing soldier was all I needed to figure that out. I swore to myself, then pushed my hair back and nodded.


    I figured it was only fair that a superhero would fight another superhero. Besides, it would mean that Ava wouldn¡¯t be breathing down my neck if we fucked up. I¡¯d get a few days off.


    If you don¡¯t get pummeled into the ocean by your best friend¡¯s dad.


    Knuckles, ever silent, ever resilient, was beside me. ¡°We drag this out any longer¡ª¡±


    ¡°Get to the others, help Damsel however you can,¡± I said. ¡°Fr¡­ Poseidon¡¯s my problem.¡±


    She looked at me for the first time tonight as if I was crazy. She almost objected, but she was cold, logical, and knew just as well as I did that I didn¡¯t have to win. I just had to pause him.


    We both broke out into a sprint, her toward the group, and myself toward Poseidon. Damsel still had two more crates left, as well as about a dozen people to teleport. Time. Space. I didn¡¯t know how much I had left in me, but it didn¡¯t matter as I ran, splashing through tiny rivers snaking along the road, over chunks of rubble and tiny craters that Bellatrix¡¯s hammer created.


    I lunged at him, and got swiped away by a band of water. I skidded along the road, rubbing my skin raw. My head buzzed when I came to a stop. My tongue was fat, bloody, chewed up.


    I spat, and tried to fly toward him. To shoot toward his back and get his attention.


    But I was spent. Exhausted. It felt like hitting your limit whilst you sprinted. You wanted to go faster, push harder, but you simply physically couldn¡¯t. Only option left was to leg it.


    And that was made all the much harder when Franklin glanced over his shoulder at me, eyes narrowing, glare sharpening, turning the tiny rivers into lashing veins of water. They slapped against my skin and ankles, curling around my exposed toes and stopping me dead. He swiped his hand through the air, and another gushing torrent of water shoved me down. I gasped, tried to breathe, but just as I opened my mouth, more water rushed over me and into my throat.


    I clawed at my throat. Hot panic beat against the side of my head. My lungs burnt, my throat ached. I writhed, tried reaching for the water, but it would simply pass through my fingers. The world flickered. Went hazy. Air, air, air, needed air, but my body felt like led. My muscles felt like liquid iron sloshing around underneath my skin. I grasped and writhed, shaking and trembling.


    A snap! followed by a deafening shriek.


    Collapsed on the ground, I blinked, peered through the water. Knuckles stood over Velocity, looking down at the speedster cradling a leg that was bent clean in two. She was yelling, screaming from the top of her lungs, as Knuckles picked her up by her black shirt collar and raised her fist. The air warped around her bloodied knuckles, and the look in her eyes wasn¡¯t cold or savage, raging or spiteful, but purely predatory. Doing what she had to because the chance was there spasming in front of her. I¡¯d seen her punch, what she could do, and she¡¯d kill her.


    No, she wouldn¡¯t kill Velocity¡ªshe¡¯d spray her torso across the entire freaking street.


    The water rushed out of me, and I could finally breathe. I hacked up a lung trying to get myself onto my feet, watching as Franklin suddenly focused a gushing torrent of water ahead.


    Knuckles¡¯ fist got closer, inching toward Velocity. I knew what team I was on, and knew what cards I was playing with, but my gut took over, and so did instinct. My powers jumped across my fingers, tiny tendrils nobody but myself could see, just enough to blast forward, sprinting past Franklin as if he¡¯d stopped moving. I almost tripped over myself, having my powers flood back in like this. My body ached, retaliating at the stress I was putting it under. I threw myself forward, tackling Knuckles, leaving my body useless and heavy as we crashed into the pavement and rolled.


    And just in time, because it wasn¡¯t Velocity I was saving (even though, yes, I would have regardless), but Knuckles. Water shredded the rubble where Knuckles had stood, creating a barrier between Velocity and everyone else. But there was more than just the water that had spooked me.


    It was the guy that appeared milliseconds after I shoved into Knuckles, moving so fast that the blast of ferocious wind he brought right along with him only wavered because Witchling had a protective shield of stone surrounding the group. It smashed into both of us, pushing me back.


    Windows shattered, spitting shards of glass down onto us. Dust blew into the sky, choking us in thick black-brown clouds. His presence was sudden, breathtaking, because the wind in my lungs was stolen by the sudden gust that lunged into my mouth and down my throat.


    Then he stood from his crouch, tie whipping wildly in the wind. The ocean frothed and then settled, but boardwalk trembled. Then he looked down at me, a glinting smile on his face, his canines almost just as sharp as Dominion¡¯s. His eyes were blue, a light blue so stark the sky could only dream of copying them as they glimmered. White hair flowed in the wind, not majestically, but frantically, as if every fiber of his being was alive and energized, so brimming with this need to fight, to win, that it was an assault on the senses. He was strong. You could feel it. See it. Hell, it was pretty hard to miss the power resonating off his toned body when he looked exactly like dad.

 Issue #14: Saving Enemies

    For the first time that I could remember since dad died, New Olympus was quiet. Wind silently snaked around us, carrying a haze of fine dust that turned the sky a deeper orange. I sat still, so stiff that my heart might as well have stopped too as I stared at him. Up, I thought, because my neck ached as it craned upward, the muscles in my shoulder bunching with tense unease. I blinked slowly¡ªonce, twice¡ªand tried to speak, to ask him who he was, why he looked so much more like dad than I ever did, but my tongue was fat, useless, stuck to the roof of my dry mouth.


    He didn¡¯t move either, choosing to stand above me, staring at me for what felt like hours. It must have only been seconds, with my senses twisted so incredibly high up that everything moved at a crawl. I felt each heartbeat. Saw each fiber in his eyes tense and relax as they moved over me.


    All I could do was watch, frozen, as he tilted his head at me, inspecting me. Looking me over with those eyes that shouldn¡¯t belong to him, but instead to the man who only ever looked at me this way a handful of times. They slithered over my cuts and bruises, and then examined the bloody grit smeared all over my face, and finally the ripped clothes hanging off my body. I was a mess. Weak and tense and bubbling with the cold remains of thin adrenaline. He was tall and proud and dressed in Olympiad standard black and white. His shirt was pressed, his collar sharp. His badge hung from his belt, the shield on it glinting in the early morning sunlight, blinding.


    I would have said embarrassment was the feeling in my gut, but it was in such a mess that I couldn¡¯t really tell you what I actually felt. Anger, maybe. Misplaced resentment. Who was he?


    And why does he feel so much like dad, too? I thought. Why does he feel like the sun?


    ¡°You look starstruck,¡± he said, and I almost recoiled. His words were clear, cut and clean and so direct they had no other option than to slice through my hazy mind. ¡°I¡¯m blushing, really.¡±


    ¡°Alex,¡± O¡¯Reiley said quietly, getting Ace¡¯s attention. ¡°You know this kid?¡±


    ¡°I ain¡¯t even hear him coming, so that means we should probably get the fuck out of here.¡±


    ¡°I need a sec, alright, hon?¡± Damsel whispered. ¡°So get off my ass for just a little while.¡±


    The boy turned, looking over his shoulder. They all stiffened, like hairs caught at the end of a muzzle. Witchling was the only one to tense, get ready. ¡°Don¡¯t bother, ¡®cause then I¡¯d just ki¡ª¡±


    ¡°Adam,¡± Poseidon said, his voice low and carrying through the wind. The boy¡¯s mouth snapped closed and, like all of us, stared at the man with writhing tails of water snaking around him begin to speak. ¡°You weren¡¯t given any kind of command by the Olympiad to intervene.¡±


    He shrugged one shoulder, as if he didn¡¯t really care what he had to say. ¡°You taught me to take the initiative, and these¡­ people¡±¡ªhe waved a hand around him, indicating us¡ª¡°shouldn¡¯t really be that much of a pain to deal with, ¡®cause, well, look at them. They¡¯re kinda pathetic.¡±


    Velocity, still cradling her leg meters away from me, hissed through clenched teeth, ¡°You¡¯re not meant to be out in fucking public, idiot. You¡¯re meant to stay in the fucking headquarters.¡±


    ¡°I would too if my bones broke so easily,¡± Adam muttered.


    ¡°Who¡­¡± The word sprung out of my mouth. He finally looked at me, his eyes narrowing, and his head tilting once more. ¡°Why¡­ Why do you look like him? Why do you look like Zeus?¡±


    Why do you look like the pictures Veronica keeps on her night stand, in her wallet?


    I wasn¡¯t sure how loudly I asked, because he remained silent, as if I hadn¡¯t said anything at all and my mind had just conjured the questions for itself. He isn¡¯t meant to be outside. Only meant to be in the Olympiad. He was some kind of secret, something they didn¡¯t want the world to see, but he¡¯d made the decision to be here, like he was so important that his presence alone would put a stop to every kind of crime you could think of, and¡­ he would be right. He looked like dad. For anyone who hadn¡¯t seen dad since, they might have thought that Zeus had come back to life, and for what that meant to damn near every supervillain in existence, I had no clue. Zeus returning from the dead would shake the entire world. Would screw up so many laws I didn¡¯t even want to imagine the kind of migraine Cassie Blackwood would have when she learnt about his existence.


    But not even the most powerful person on the planet could do that, come back to life.


    And the last time I checked, dad didn¡¯t have a son.


    He smiled. My gut turned, making me feel sick. ¡°If I was his son, would you believe me?¡±


    No. No, no, no. I wouldn¡¯t want to believe him. I couldn''t believe him. A coil of panic wound tighter and tighter around my heart, making it thump thump thump in quicker succession. If he was dad¡¯s son¡ªand my brother, a thought that carved through my mind like a knife through skin¡ªthen he could hear it bang against my ribs. He could smell my sweat and the bitter stench of fear clinging to my scalp as it trickled down my temples. I wanted to move, get up, grab him by the neck because gods, I didn¡¯t know what else to do, and make him talk. Make him answer. Make him give me the truth on who he actually was, and where he¡¯d been all of these long, long years.


    But now was a bad time to learn that I was spent. Empty. My muscles were lead clinging to my bones. I felt nothing in my gut. No warmth. No build up of searing heat. I curled my fingers into a fist, and they shook. Shook. Not because of fear, but because I was on the verge of passing out. I was partly sure if I stood up too fast that my world would go pitch black right afterward.


    Learning to use my powers sparingly took nearly a year to master. It was like a scale, except it was always on maximum when I used them, and had to dial it back most times. That stunt I pulled saving Velocity and Knuckles in the blink of an eye drained me. Maybe faster. He must have seen the lightning, the golden sparks that spat and died in my hair and around my fingers.


    Or maybe (and I hoped, and hoped dearly) he had been too focused on killing Knuckles.


    ¡°I¡¯ll say this once, and won¡¯t repeat myself.¡± Poseidon took one step forward. The slick sheet of water layering the road slapped against our feet (and in my case, my rear). ¡°Go back to headquarters, and if you must, take Bellatrix and Dominion with you, as well as Velocity.¡±


    ¡°No, wait!¡± Velocity said, then gasped in pain. ¡°I can still¡­ I can still help here.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you should¡¯ve stayed in bed, Vel,¡± Adam said.


    ¡°Go to hell,¡± she snarled.


    Knuckles ever-so-slightly nudged my pinky. I glanced at her, and she jerked her chin toward Witchling and the others. They¡¯d huddled a little closer together, getting in touching range of one another, all surrounding Damsel. Still, some drug packets were strewn across the street, and I could see at least several special grade rifles in several pieces near the boardwalk. We wouldn¡¯t get everything, but we would get the majority of it. The mission wasn¡¯t a success, but it was over. At least, we had to escape Adam and Poseidon first, and then it would be curtains on my supervillain debut. But it couldn¡¯t end with me getting beaten to death by whoever the hell the guy standing here was. I couldn¡¯t allow it, because¡­ Gods, the Olympiad cloned my fucking dad.


    That¡¯s what I figured, at least, and gods above if they actually had, then Olympia was going to have to pay them a visit in that damned black building and rip them all a giant new one.


    Because if all they had to do to replace me was make someone better, then why else would they tolerate me for so long? Keep me around? Maybe Dominion was right, they¡¯re not the heroes.


    They¡¯re just the guys who have to do what they have to for everyone else¡¯s sake.


    And I was the girl who wasn¡¯t going to let that fucking slide, not like this.


    So I spat on his shoes, and said, ¡°Fuck you, you piece of shit. You¡¯re just a knock off.¡±


    Silence for several beats. He stared at me, cold, dumbfounded. Witchling¡¯s fingers twitched behind him, and she met my eyes, saw the look in them, I hoped, and nodded once. I¡¯d say it was a plan, but anger was in my belly, deep and hot and raging, and I threw myself at Adam the same second that Witchling stretched her hand toward Knuckles and yanked her toward the group. They vanished in an instant, leaving me on the street as Adam effortlessly stepped aside. I stumbled past him, could have kept going, maybe tried to fly, but instead I whirled around and punched him.


    Nothing. Like punching a brick wall, my knuckles smacked against his chest.


    Adam glanced at Poseidon as Velocity muttered several swear words. Bellatrix was waking up, and I wasn¡¯t sure what had happened to Dominion, but Franklin didn¡¯t look one bit pleased. He wasn¡¯t even looking at me, but instead at Adam. He was a professional Cape, once a junior member of the Olympains, and knew how to settle his emotions in an instant, but this was different, because the disappointment was bright, bitter, like the early morning winds in the air.


    ¡°Apprehend her,¡± he commanded, and this time there wasn¡¯t any room for argument in his words. ¡°It¡¯s the least you could do after interrupting what had been planned. We¡¯ll talk at HQ.¡±


    His jaw tensed, wanting to say something. Then his eyes turned down at me, at the fist forced against his chest, and then he swiped his hand across my face. Blood burst into my mouth, hot and sour, as it filled my throat. I stumbled back, spat, bared my teeth and ran forward. He did the same, this time punching me in the jaw, making blood spit through the air and onto the tarmac.


    Pain throbbed around my body, a pulse that devoured the little energy I had left. My head was light. My muscles were heavy. I threw another punch, then he landed one back that sent me flying, skipping and skidding across the road, rubbing my flesh raw and red, and into a street light. It fell with me, smashing to the ground. I groaned, gasping with pain and choking on blood. I rolled over onto my elbow. Got the pavement underneath me. I saw blurred bits of concrete. Heard the distant sounds of Franklin talking to Velocity as Bellatrix rose. Then I saw his shoes, his legs, then his shadow as the sun rose behind him. His face was dark, the lines around his eyes sharp.


    ¡°¡®Apprehend her.¡¯ Now I get it,¡± Adam muttered, grabbing me by the throat. He lifted me with ease, then slammed his fist into my nose. My head snapped back. Agony burst through my face. ¡°Because you¡¯re such a goddamned pest that killing you would take way too much time.¡±


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Like you fucking could,¡± I growled, gurgling and sputtering, then spat at him.


    The slew of blood landed on his tie, seeping into the white fabric.


    His eyes narrowed, and then he slammed me head first into the concrete. Blackness. Hot pain. It felt like my body separated for a split second. Adam knelt beside me, leaning close as he said, ¡°I don¡¯t know who or what you think you are, but you¡¯re making a mess of your chances of seeming innocent. We¡¯re technically not allowed to kill, but by all means, give me a legal reason.¡±


    Oh, I gave him a fucking reason, alright, when I slammed my fist between his legs. It was an awkward angle, something that wouldn¡¯t have landed if he hadn¡¯t been leering so close. Dirty, stupid, but I was out of options, and you couldn¡¯t blame a girl for not wanting to find out what it felt like to get a hole punched through your chest. Adam swore, stood and stumbled backward, then continued cursing as I charged him down, smashing my knuckles into his jaw, his throat, then he grabbed both of my arms, seizing my wrists, fury blazing in his eyes, and I didn¡¯t think twice as I smacked my forehead into his face. He reeled back in shock more than pain, letting me go.


    ¡°See? Nothin¡¯ but a knock off,¡± I said, gasping for air. ¡°Pack it up and go home.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re giving me orders?¡± Adam asked quietly. There, where his fingers met as he clenched his fist¡ªgolden electricity. My stomach sank as he stepped forward. I wouldn¡¯t believe he was my brother, and I definitely wasn¡¯t going to believe the Olympiad had cloned my freaking dad. He was a fake, a fraud, maybe a really good shapeshifter. But no, not him. Not one of us.


    ¡°You heard me,¡± I said, shuffling backward, feeling bits of rubble and the sleek layer of water underneath my feet. ¡°Just like your boss said, you shouldn¡¯t be here ¡®cause you¡¯re not good enough, jerk. You let the villains get away. You screwed up all of their plans. You suck, dude, and no amount of hair gel and power-stealing is going to change that. So leave me alone before I start getting serious, because I¡¯m warning you, any closer and I¡¯ll use my secret power against you.¡±


    Adam stared at me, seeing right through me. I steadied myself, raised my hands. You could see the gears working behind his pale eyes, and see his body almost start resonating cold heat.


    He chewed up the concrete in a sudden rush toward me. He went for a punch, I could see it, wanting to put me through the boardwalk and into the water, or maybe just to take my head off.


    I would have to thank Lucas for making me sweat all those times in his sparring ring, making me throw up from how exhausted he made the likes of me feel. I had stamina, maybe not my powers, but I could keep going just a little longer. Just long enough to slip away from him.


    And I did just that, slip his punch.


    Adam tackled me instead, catching me off guard. Air shrieked in my ears for a moment, then my world erupted in an explosion of wooden shrapnel as we went through the boardwalk. We crashed into the water, feeling like a fist of concrete punched my spine. Air burst out of my lungs. I grappled him, wrapping my legs around his waist as we sunk deeper. I thrashed around him as he wriggled and squirmed and grabbed. Not trained properly, still fresh. Relying too much on just his powers¡ªhis strength, his speed, invulnerability, and reflexes¡ªto get out of anything and everything. Still, it was hard, like trying to hold onto some raging bull bucking and punching.


    Then I got myself onto his back, arms around his throat. If I had my powers, had the strength to use them properly, I would have choked him out right there and then in the frigid blackness. Instead, I did what any self-respecting superhero would do, and sank my teeth into his ear. Hard, like biting into sun-beaten leather. But I felt him jerk, twist and swat at my face. I tightened the grip I had on his throat, tugging and tugging, feeling my arms burn with the strain.


    And his immediate reaction was to shoot up, right up toward the dark blue surface. Panic, anger, getting the advantage because up in the air was the place I thrived the most as well.


    In seconds we were above Lower Olympus, me still clinging on, now relying on him to keep us in the air, even if he was erratic, side-to-side, up and down. I tasted blood¡ªprobably my own¡ªas he grabbed my hair and yanked my head off his ear. I kicked his chest. He let go, still pumped full of adrenaline, his eyes still hot from actually being challenged by somebody, probably for the first time in his life, and I was going to bet everything that he didn¡¯t know about one of the only things that could weaken someone with our powers. I just hoped it wouldn¡¯t kill him.


    Because I couldn¡¯t exactly put that on my resume to the Olympiad.


    I cupped my hands as he darted toward me, his mouth twisted into a snarl, almost grinning, most definitely hungry for some kind of challenge, definitely hungry. He was their experiment. Their probably millions worth of investments. He wanted to prove he was worth all of it and more.


    But I¡¯d been doing this superhero thing for a while, and power meant nothing if you had no idea how to use it. A gun can kill, sure, even if a kid fires it, Lucas had said. Adam got closer, nearer as I fell through the sky. But a soldier? Trained and understanding? That¡¯s an execution.


    Adam was on me, inches away. I swung my hands out, aiming for the sides of his head.


    The clap of dull noise thundered through the sky when my hands met his ears. His eyes glazed over, his body went limp. He crashed into me, his momentum rocketing us through the sky. I was a passenger, too exhausted to fly, too damned stupid to realize that I didn¡¯t have a way to break my landing apart from smashing my body to pieces all over Lower Olympus. Panic came, quick and fast, filling my gut with lead as I scrambled toward Adam¡¯s spinning body. He wasn¡¯t out cold, not completely, but he wouldn¡¯t be flying straight any time soon. Not soon enough to save us. Shit, shit, shit, I thought. I reached for him. Grazed his finger tips. Grabbed his hand.


    I pulled him toward me, the ground rushing to meet us. The sun was higher, bright and burning as it watched us fall. Adam groaned something I couldn¡¯t heat over the shrieking wind, something gurgled and jumbled. Past the antennas on top of skyscrapers. Racing past the shining office windows perched above the city. We spiraled down, down, down, faster and faster, my grip so tight onto him he should be glad that my fingernails couldn¡¯t cut through the skin around his arms. I screamed for him to get his senses together, to goad him like I had before into focusing.


    No use, we were in free fall. The edge of a building neared, ever closer. I wrapped my arms around him and spun around in the air. We clipped the edge, separating us, sending him flying out of my grasp, and myself consumed in pain as brick smashed into me, or rather I smashed into the ledge of a building, dislodging bricks and concrete alike. Sky, ground, railings, glass. Over and over like broken film. A sense of deja vu when my stomach flipped around as I tried to get the sky above me and the ground beneath me like they should be. Nothing. Pain. Concrete. Agony Bricks. Blood in my mouth, fingernails cut and torn from when I tried to grab hold of a ledge.


    Then I hit the ground, and kept hitting it until I rolled to a stop in the middle of an intersection. Cars shrieked to a stop around me, leaving black tire marks. My head pounded. My body lay still, even as I tried so, so hard to move. Where¡¯s Adam? I couldn¡¯t see him. Too many cars and people. Did I hit anyone? Fuck. Fuck, please no. But they weren¡¯t rushing away, but closer to me. Were they shouting something? I couldn''t tell. My ears hurt. Everything hurt. Someone tried touching me, maybe to see if I still had a pulse. I groaned, warding them off.


    Damned humans, touching me, asking me questions I couldn¡¯t hear. Unconsciousness was calling, a song I couldn¡¯t help but listen to. I almost gave in. Very nearly gave up standing.


    Then I heard it: Adam¡¯s voice, a bellow that shook the ground, ¡°YOU!¡±


    He¡¯s alive, I thought. Shut my eyes. Forced them back open. Good, he was alive. I figured if he had taken that first hit on the building¡¯s edge, he would probably be in my state right now.


    But, even as I fell, I was still a superhero. Still Olympia.


    Even if I didn¡¯t look like it when I got on all fours, gasping for air. Saving people came with the powers, and Adam technically hadn¡¯t done anything wrong. I was the villain here.


    I kneeled, swaying. The Normals around me were talking into their phones, maybe calling Damage Control or the Olympiad or even one of those fake Olympia hotlines. Adam was at the end of the street, a mess of grit and saliva and a deep, dark red ear swollen to twice its normal size. Blood trickled from them, oozing down the sides of his face and along the edge of his jaw.


    C¡¯mon, I just saved you, I thought. I teetered as I stood, then fell onto one knee. No, no more. I had to get home, get some rest. Fighting him now would be a public execution.


    Adam took several steps, tried to fly, then collapsed into a heap.


    You could train all you wanted in a facility, but exhausting yourself in the field was different. At least, that¡¯s what I figured. It was hard to sound philosophical when the advice you were getting came from a head that¡¯s been hit so many times tonight I lost count after Cherry sent me through a dozen train carriages. I was in survival mode, working off instinct. I didn¡¯t know how long it took, but I knew the Normals were watching, knew they were filming me, as I knelt beside Adam and checked his pulse. I waited, shut my eyes. The blaring noise of Damage Control¡¯s emergency vehicles cried through the city as the sun¡¯s rays hit distant windows.


    A soft thump followed by several more. He was fine, just exhausted.


    He would be angry, maybe vengeful, but that was for another time.


    ¡°What the¨C¡± a guy in a beige suit said to my right. I looked at him, and his phone camera stared back at me. ¡°I thought¡­ Aren¡¯t you gonna, like, kill him or something?¡±


    I stood, swaying. Stay on your feet, Ry. ¡°You want to see a dead Cape?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he stammered. The crowd stepped back as I turned to look at him. My hair obscured my face, most of the black dye still clung to its strands. ¡°But supervillains kill superheroes, so¡­¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re fucked up, dude,¡± I muttered, turning away. ¡°Nobody likes seeing them die.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re not a supervillain?¡± a woman yelled. Damage Control appeared at the end of the street, starting to usher the crowd away, going straight for the people who probably paid for their premium services before dealing with everyone else. They made a beeline toward me.


    Nope, just some kid who made a stupid decision.


    I crouched, jumped, fell, then launched into the air. Not high, and not flying, but a controlled fall that left me crashing into alleyways and startling cats and homeless people for several minutes as I crossed the city. I clipped buildings. Stumbled and fell and smacked my face into the ground, eating shit as I dragged myself into crouch after crouch, flinging myself into the air and soaring high, caught my warm sunlight and the silence, the quiet, of being so alone up here.


    Then I would fall, and each leap through the sky would be that little bit shorter.


    I was about a block away from home when I finally gave into the exhaustion and collapsed in an alley. I slumped to my knees, gasping for each breath, feeling like every single one of them might be my last, was how much my lungs felt like they were being ripped straight out of my chest. Yellow morning sunlight flooded the alley, pushing thin shadows deeper into the city. I rested my back against a wall, shut my eyes, and breathed through my mouth. Someone was listening to the early morning broadcasts, something about supervillains or whatever. It eventually changed to some music channel that filled the alley, some peppy, up-beat song that Bianca would have loved to listen to. I almost smiled thinking that she probably was listening to it right now.


    In her bedroom and getting ready to go on a run, slipping on one sock at a time as she watched whatever new superhuman video would be trending throughout the entire week.


    It was a thought that came from nowhere, considering the bloody state of me. A thought that blew cold wind across my arms, over the bumps and the scrapes, the blood and the grit.


    I rubbed my arms, warding off the thoughts and the coldness of the dark alley.


    It was a good thing  someone had painted an Olympia mural in this alleyway, that way I could focus directly on her golden eyes and her shining fists leading her toward the blazing blue sky so I could distract me from¡­ well, myself. The golden lightning around her was bright, the paint fresh.


    The lightning bolt on her chest glowed in the sunlight, glaringly bright.


    No, Olympia wasn¡¯t looking at me, not even close - the sky was more interesting - and why would she bother?


    I was just a supervillain, some street thug too small for her liking. Too little to bother looking down at.


    I wanted to feel the irony, to smile and wonder what Emelia would have said. But it was hard to feel like that staring at yourself, at the person everyone wanted you so badly to be.


    So I stared at it¡ªat her; myself¡ªuntil I had the strength to stand back up again.

 Interlude #1: The Black Cat

    Katie wasn¡¯t used to waiting for what she wanted, and this morning wasn¡¯t any different. Sitting on a bench alone in the park for several hours, though, beat having to contend with everything happening in Lower Olympus. It hadn¡¯t stopped her from being part of it, no matter how hard she tried to not get involved with superheroes anymore. The night had been long and tedious as she lurked through the shadows, making sure she wasn¡¯t caught by people who could very, very easily put a fist through her stomach if she was caught. She figured she was still coming off that high.


    And maybe that¡¯s why it was so damn difficult to sit still. She watched the people walking past her, in couples and some single, others old and a couple dozen young. So normal, happy.


    Katie, on the other hand, had a heart that was still racing, bucking and kicking in her chest. As soon as the Capes arrived, she cashed in for the night and escaped, getting as far away as she could because she¡¯d dealt with superheroes before¡ªamateurs, sure, but heroes nonetheless¡ªbut professional, real life superheroes? She snorted. She wasn¡¯t going to play tag with people like that.


    I¡¯m playing cat and mouse, she thought, as she scrolled through her phone. Except I¡¯m the freaking mouse this time. She had only ever been hunted down once, forced out of the cracks in the walls and the shadows in the alleyways. After all, it¡¯s what she¡¯s paid to do¡ªstay hidden, learn and listen, and she didn¡¯t like it one bit. It was exciting sometimes, but most of the time, all she had to do was listen, watch, wait, report back, then wait some more for her pay. Being a thief had been a lot more fun, and admittedly, she missed pulling watches right off someone¡¯s hand, a purse off a shoulder and a phone from a pocket. She smiled to herself as the wind picked up, icy and quiet.


    Those were the days, being a petty pickpocket in the lower east end, until everything got complicated and everyone she knew started dying. Now she was in it for the information, and for whatever lead she could get her hands on that would pay off the one thing money couldn¡¯t buy.


    And reminding herself of that was the reason she remained on the cold hard wooden bench, slightly hungry and very tired, living off the remains of whatever stale gum she could find in her pockets. It wasn¡¯t the life she envisioned for herself, but what did she expect from the life she led? Glamour? Glory? No, that wasn¡¯t for people like her, and for a while, a few years ago, she believed that one of those endings to her life might actually be happy, but things changed.


    Things change all the time, so that means they¡¯re just always kinda the same.


    The leaves rustled around her shoes, twirling into the sky. Ben would have loved sitting here and doing nothing. A break in his busy, busy life. The thought forced her thumb to switch the phone off, and demanded that she at least tried to enjoy everything surrounding her, but she couldn¡¯t, just couldn¡¯t, because she wasn¡¯t wired that way. Kids like her grew up surrounded by concrete and graffiti, convenience stores running out of an alleyway and liquor joints that sold you booze so strong you¡¯d probably be seeing double after one whiff; strip clubs run by old ladies, and White Capes who¡¯d beat you to hell and back if you got on their turf. Having trees and birds and white collar corporate guys smile and wave at her with their pristine smiles was just so¡­ fake.


    Almost undeserving, because she was a stain, and she could see it in how wide of a birth they gave her, and how sour their faces got when she stretched her legs out onto the walkway.


    Whatever, she thought, smacking gum between her teeth. This is my city, too.


    Her phone buzzed, and she ignored it for a second before picking up. ¡°If you¡¯re calling me, then you¡¯ve either made a huge mistake, or you know what you want. How much and where?¡±


    ¡°You really should make a habit of saving my number,¡± Ava said.


    Katie groaned inwardly. ¡°I do that for people who I think will last long enough for me to think about after they pay me, which, fun fact, you haven¡¯t done yet. So I¡¯m just gonna cut this¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll get your pay when the job is finished,¡± Ava said plainly.


    Katie rolled her eyes and shooed away a pigeon. ¡°And when is that, boss lady?¡±


    ¡°When Lower Olympus stops looking like a warzone,¡± she muttered, her voice muffled by movement. She gave Ava a second, tried to listen to whatever it was she was whispering to someone. ¡°I need a run down of what happened tonight. Anything that caught your eye about the Triumvirate, anything about the newer supervillains we fought, because from what I heard, we¡¯d never encountered some of these people ever, like they¡¯ve all magically appeared from thin air. Some were powerful, real threats, nothing less than superhumans we should be watching closely.¡±


    Katie rubbed the black ring on her thumb, looked around lazily, then said, ¡°Have you ever sat in this park before, so early in the morning? You almost feel like all of that shit doesn¡¯t exist.¡±


    Silence. Katie smiled. ¡°It¡¯s like the world doesn¡¯t revolve around superhumans.¡±


    Very slowly, each syllable articulated, Ava said, ¡°Lynx, I¡¯m very, very tired, and you¡¯re nothing but the cost effective option, but if you want to get replaced, don¡¯t forget that I can do that. I¡¯m not my father, I don¡¯t know you, and I frankly don¡¯t really like you¡ªjust tell me what you know without wasting my time. I know you¡¯re busy, so let¡¯s wrap this up as quickly as we can.¡±


    Katie hadn¡¯t worked for Lucifer in years, not since things got tasteful between them. She spat her gam onto the gravel path, now sour, tasteless, then groaned as she forced herself to pick it up. You¡¯re getting soft, Kates, she thought, putting it back in its wrapper, and she blamed Ben for that. ¡°Alright, alright, keep your underwear on,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re right about all those new supervillains appearing out of nowhere. Never seen any of ¡®em before, not even in the little black books that the gangs in Lower Olympus keep on them. I¡¯ve got to meet up with someone some time today, maybe tomorrow, and figure out where they¡¯re coming from. Usually, when so many new Supers are in one place all of a sudden, word gets around that something big is going down.¡±


    ¡°And not a single murmur,¡± Ava said, finishing her thoughts. ¡°And New Olympus isn¡¯t very good at keeping her secrets. This would have made the news, at least an article somewhere.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a big enough problem for the normal people,¡± Katie muttered. ¡°If Lower Olympus implodes, then so be it¡ªthey¡¯ll just rebuild and sweep the lot of you under the carpet, you know.¡±


    ¡°You really think that¡¯s what they¡¯re doing, waiting for us to kill each other?¡±


    Katie shrugged, even though she couldn¡¯t see it. ¡°Why put in the effort when someone else will just do it for you? But I don¡¯t know, maybe I¡¯m just cynical. Tonight will probably set off a few alarms for news channels, activists, that lot. And the stunt that happened in the bank is only going to speed this mess up; everyone knows things are getting worse, but not to what extent.¡±


    She¡¯d been there, watched the news and seen the headlines in the hours after Olympia saved an entire avenue of people from being turned into meat paste. This wouldn¡¯t have happened if Olympia wasn¡¯t around, said one side. But if she wasn¡¯t here, who knows how many would have died tonight? asked the other. Katie was on the fence about superheroes and supervillains and how public their messes got. Some people liked the show, the lights; they thrived off making this a lifestyle, using it as leverage against the other side. But Katie thrived off of being a nobody. The less people who knew about her, the better, but Zeus¡¯ daughter didn¡¯t exactly have that luxury.


    But wherever you found superheroes, the supervillains wouldn¡¯t be far behind. Ice and fire, oil and water, light and shadow, and all that other crap. A push and pull, one side tugging the other deeper into the dark, or further into the light, neither really winning this little neverending war.


    Good thing I¡¯m just the girl who gets information to whoever needs it, she thought.


    Katie was too much of a lover (Screw you Ben, for making me like this), anyway.


    ¡°Do you at least have a hunch on where they¡¯re coming from?¡±


    Katie blew out a sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Ave. Could be offshore, maybe?¡±


    ¡°And where exactly is ¡®offshore¡¯?¡±


    ¡°¡®Offshore¡¯ meaning the next state over, or maybe right across the block from the Guild, or quite literally anywhere else in the world. My guess is that they¡¯re home grown, ¡®cause heavy hitters like the ones I saw tonight don¡¯t move around quietly. Someone will always see something, hear something, and if you¡¯re stuck in the webs I¡¯m in, you get to hear things whatever the case.¡±


    Silence, then she heard murmurs on the other side of the phone as Ava spoke to somebody. ¡°I suppose that checks out. You don¡¯t notice weeds until they¡¯re sprouting around your flowers.¡±


    Katie snorted and nearly laughed. ¡°Yeah, sure, let¡¯s go with that. Got a way with words.¡±


    ¡°It means the world that  you find me entertaining,¡± she dead panned. ¡°But if the Triumvirate can get their hands on so many heavy-hitters so quickly, and from right here¡­¡±


    She lowered her voice, slyly scanned the faces that passed by the bench and the distant windows of the skyscrapers surrounding the park. ¡°We¡¯ve either got a traffickers infestation in this city, or there¡¯s something in the water that¡¯s making a bunch of people have awakenings way too late in life. I¡¯ll wager on the fuc¡­ freaking traffickers. It¡¯s just a hunch, but I trust my gut.¡±


    ¡°I was hoping you¡¯d say that,¡± Ava muttered. ¡°At least then we can control it.¡±


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    Katie knew exactly what she meant by control. In their world it meant one thing, and one thing only. Dominate. Overpower. To make them all so afraid that the thought of it would sap the life right out of a room. The old days were like that, lawless, free, because anyone could put on a costume and call themselves a superhero. But there also used to be a vigilante problem in New Olympus, until several of the gangs ins the lower east end also started ¡®controlling¡¯ the issue as brutally as possible. It turned her blood cold, those thoughts, and the wind a little sharper. So many tiny murals, candles left to melt, because some kid died trying to be a hero and nobody knew. Wrong place, wrong time¡ªnot your bullet, but oh well, tough break, it just wasn¡¯t your night.


    Suddenly, the little kids chasing each other through the park so early in the morning, equally chased after by frantic babysitters, so enthusiastic about spring break, seemed like another life entirely. Like some sick move by God to show her everything she¡¯d never have in her life.


    Superhuman trafficking wasn¡¯t a cozy topic for anyone, and Katie didn¡¯t know if she still had that kind of grit left inside of her to deal with it. Maybe the old her. The Lynx who killed for cash because, to her, what was murder except stealing with a little more scarlet and screaming?


    Ava hummed for a moment, deep in thought, then said, ¡°What about the SDU?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re too busy dealing with upper west side things,¡± Katie said. ¡°Some Super actress, real Hollywood glitz, snorting a couple kilos of coke and killing some poor hooker, things like that. We¡¯re in the clear for now, at least until mayor Blackwood sends her daughter after you, Ave.¡±


    ¡°Damage Control isn¡¯t a hit squad,¡± she said breezily. Katie snorted, but if the kid wanted to think that way, then she was free to do so. Katie was here for her pay, nothing more. ¡°My main worry is how much superhuman force the Triumvirate had on their side last night. You informed us that all they really had were a few brutes, maybe someone A-Grade if they were desperate.¡±


    Her tone was harsh, tense, and Katie figured that came from the shit show of a performance her group put on last night. The Jericho Triad was only in her hands because she had her fingers on it first when her old man vanished. Witchling was their biggest threat, but she didn¡¯t seem bothered in taking over Lower Olympus. Ace, too, even though he was so full of himself that Katie doubted he¡¯d be able to see any bigger picture than himself as mayor. Maybe O¡¯Reiley¡ªhe had the skills, the knowledge. He knew those mercenaries longer than Ava had. Loyal to a key to his old boss.


    But how long would that last if Ava kept screwing up? What was stopping O¡¯Reiley from taking the reins from her because he was just trying to look out for his own guys, the gang?


    Katie shrugged, kicked at some gravel. Not her problem. She had bigger issues.


    Like the underlying accusations she heard in Ava¡¯s voice that said: you lied to me.


    ¡°If you think I¡¯m two-timing you, then cut me off, kill me, fire me, rat me out to the police that I¡¯m still in the city. Hell, I don¡¯t care, but just don¡¯t think for one second I can¡¯t do my job right,¡± she said, keeping her voice low. She fiddled with the ring on her hand, rubbing its dull, cold metal. ¡°Those new supervillains didn¡¯t hit my radar probably because they¡¯re home bred, or the Triumvirate has someone in your group telling them where I¡¯ll be and when I¡¯ll be there, alright?¡±


    Ava remained silent for several beats. ¡°A mole, right, because my father would let¡ª¡±


    ¡°Your dad¡¯s not here anymore,¡± Katie said, cutting her off, slicing right through her words and her chest, she was sure. ¡°You¡¯re in charge, and it¡¯s about time you started owning up to it.¡±


    A sigh, then she said, ¡°You sound exactly like O¡¯Reiley.¡±


    Katie massaged her eyes, trying to get the exhaustion out of her foggy head. ¡°I don¡¯t know, dude, but you¡¯re gonna have to figure this out on your own. I¡¯m here because I have a debt to pay, that¡¯s it. I¡¯m not here to coach you, or mentor you, or cheer you on. You sort this shit out on your own. So all I¡¯m saying is that you should be careful. Cards to your chest and all the rest of it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll look into it,¡± she said. It was such a bland, emotionless response that Katie almost laughed. She hated being told how things should go, but hey, Katie did, too, until she learnt otherwise. ¡°I¡¯ll need you on patrol near the boulevard tonight at seven. I¡¯m meeting with a few people, and I¡¯d rather know what¡¯s going on outside when I¡¯m there. It¡¯s sensitive right now.¡±


    ¡°Care to let me in on the secret?¡±


    ¡°Drugs, foul play, things like that,¡± she said. ¡°We need more money, I¡¯m sure you understand, and swallowing up a few of the smaller gangs is going to help with that. Planned expansion down the boulevard, agitate the White Capes, make them try and push back until they become enough of a nuisance that the SDU have to step in. Small steps toward the bigger goal. And if I can learn anything about any new Supers, force them onto our side, then I¡¯ll take it.¡±


    A real go-getter, she thought. Lucian would be proud.


    Katie had never been a fan of drugs or alcohol, but being a thief and a part-time assassin for hire (for the right price, of course), it came with the job title of thief. ¡°What about the anti-supers?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not planning on rolling in the shit with a few Normals,¡± she said. ¡°The police won¡¯t bother coming all this way for them, anyway. So seven tonight, I need you near the Guild.¡±


    ¡°Watching for any Triumvirate action, too?¡±


    ¡°When have we not been looking over our shoulders the past year?¡±


    Katie smiled and shook her head. ¡°I¡¯ll be there, but you still owe me.¡±


    ¡°Trust me, you¡¯ll get what you want. I just need to figure out where this new strain of Ambrosia is coming from first,¡± she said quietly. A dog barked at Katie, wagging its tail. She bent to scratch the back of its ear before the owner pulled it away. ¡°We found it in the crates we got, pure, stark, like it¡¯s coming straight from some factory, Lynx. This is A grade stuff. We¡¯re estimating in the millions of dollars if this slipped into the market. I¡¯m guessing you don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°Ambrosia was before my time,¡± she said icily. ¡°Not my ballpark. Ask someone else.¡±


    ¡°Do you know anyone else from that time that isn¡¯t in the grave?¡±


    ¡°Fair,¡± Katie said, shrugging. ¡°There are certain¡­ groups, I guess you could call them, that might know, but once you open that can of worms, there¡¯s no stopping them from coming here.¡±


    ¡°Your tone suggests they aren¡¯t going to be willing to be best friends with me.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯d be more willing to put your head on a pike outside the mayor¡¯s office,¡± Katie said, eyeing a man putting up a hot dog stand. ¡°Those old dogs are a different breed. There¡¯s a reason the Eighties was so huge for superhumans, but messing with them isn¡¯t my game to play.¡±


    Ava chuckled, and Katie heard how tired the kid was from across the city. It reminded her of someone. ¡°One last thing: how much of an asset do you think my newest superhuman is?¡±


    Katie let the question hang in the air between them. If she squinted and looked over her shoulder, past the buildings and construction sites, through the shine that was New Olympus in the early morning summer, she would have been able to see one of the biggest statues on the planet facing the rising sun. She had been there once, a long time ago, when she hijacked a school bus full of high schoolers on a field trip. She smiled to herself, felt that familiar coldness seeping into her veins, and let the memory run its course and bleed out of the faint scars crossing her body.


    ¡°She¡¯ll do,¡± Katie said, nodding. ¡°Cat amongst the pigeons, but don¡¯t step on her tail.¡±


    ¡°Why? You think she¡¯ll bite one day? She¡¯s just like us at the end of the day.¡±


    The familiar sound of a thunderous Harley tore through the sky, forcing a flock of birds away from the trees. Katie watched a girl with dark brown hair sweep her leg off the seat and kick the stand, and watched with a smile as a little boy stared at her, wide-eyed, dumb, as the girl slipped her sunglasses onto her head and smiled at him. Everything was effortless, natural. The kid had freckles on her cheeks, a lot more than she last remembered, and Katie watched as the girl made her way over, crop top letting the sweat on her trimmed stomach shine in the sunlight. A little more muscle mass, a lot more toned. Not just a track athlete anymore, just a little bit more than that.


    ¡°No, Ava, she isn¡¯t like us,¡± Katie said as the girl waved at her, nearer now. Her heart skipped a beat for whatever reason when she saw that smile, the tiny gap between her two front teeth. ¡°She isn¡¯t like those old superheroes, either. She¡¯s got entire governments waging on her success, so yeah, if you want to screw with her, be my guest. I won¡¯t be there when the lights go out and all you can see are those golden eyes. She¡¯s trained, she¡¯s smarter than you give her credit for, and without her, you wouldn¡¯t have been able to pull off tonight if she wasn¡¯t such a hero.¡±


    She could almost see how thin Ava¡¯s lips became from here. ¡°Where is she now?¡±


    ¡°Where else would a teenager be on spring break?¡± she asked. ¡°In bed, out cold.¡±


    And with that, she cut the call as the brown-haired girl stood in front of her.


    ¡°Sorry I¡¯m late,¡± Bianca said, rubbing her hands and their new callouses. ¡°There¡¯s a ton of traffic leaving the islands. Did you see the news last night? It was so freaking crazy an hour ago.¡±


    Katie cocked her eyebrow. ¡°What, did some celebrity fall off one of the bridges again?¡±


    Bianca snorted. ¡°You¡¯re so out of the loop you probably think Zeus is still alive, Kates.¡±


    She stood up, faking a gasp. ¡°Oh my God, don¡¯t tell me he¡¯s¡­ Dammit, I knew all those ¡®roids were going to get to him eventually. Well, at least they¡¯ll remember him for something.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, not like he saved the world a dozen times,¡± Bianca said. She pulled out her phone, glanced at the lock screen¡ªno notifications. She pursed her lips and put it away as they started walking toward her new bike. New in ownership, but old with history. Katie had seen her friends get shot and killed in front of her eyes. Seen people she played with in the streets blow their brains out because meth was in their veins. But staring at it almost made her heart stop right that second.


    ¡°Something wrong?¡± Katie asked, because she shouldn¡¯t be worrying about herself.


    ¡°Nothing, nothing,¡± Bianca said, then, a moment later: ¡°I tried calling Rylee a bunch of times. She¡¯s still not answering her phone. I was worried because of the news last night and¡ª¡±


    Katie slapped her shoulder. ¡°Girl problems. Been there, done that. She¡¯s fine, B.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I should go check on her,¡± she said, but it wasn¡¯t a new thought judging by how quickly it came out of her mouth. ¡°Bring her a few snacks, some clothes if she needs them, too.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said Rylee wasn¡¯t homeless,¡± she said. ¡°¡®Cause it sounds like she is.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯d hope not,¡± Bianca said quietly. Katie could almost see the life bleeding out of her the longer they spoke about this. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen her since before graduation, so who knows?¡±


    They stood for a moment beside the bike, silent. Katie watched her closely, saw her building that wall of resolve around herself, just like her brother used to so often. Seeing it happen was always frightening, because their eyes would glaze over slightly, and you wouldn¡¯t notice it if you didn¡¯t know the Ross family like Katie did. Alright, alright, I¡¯m fine, but let¡¯s get going ¡®cause we¡¯re burning daylight, and the sun¡¯s like a bus because it just doesn¡¯t wait, was almost certainly what she was going to say next. It was a bad habit. A deadly habit. One she was trying to break.


    Katie pushed a hand through her short, black hair. ¡°I have a gut feeling that she¡¯s doing just fine. Maybe she¡¯s just a little busy, but I¡¯m sure she¡¯s gonna get in touch as soon as she can.¡±


    Plus I¡¯m sure you cheered Olympia on when she saved all those people last night, Katie thought. Probably texted her right afterward, asking if she¡¯d seen how awesome that was.


    Her gut twisted, and standing on the sidewalk wasn¡¯t going to make it any looser. She cleared her throat and took the keys from Bianca before she could retaliate. Katie straddled the bike and said, ¡°Come on, loser, there¡¯s no point thinking about your little girlfriend when there¡¯s half priced churros to devour. Plus I¡¯m not letting a lovesick teenager drive me anywhere in this city.¡±


    A red hue sprung from her collar and filled her cheeks. ¡°Rylee¡¯s not my¡ª Whatever. You suck, anyway. You¡¯re lucky you¡¯re old, ¡®cause I would have kicked your butt like I did last time.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Katie said, turning the bike on and twisting the throttle. ¡°I can¡¯t hear you over the sound of all those churros calling my name. Now hop on, before I start planning how often I¡¯ll be coming around to see the cozy little apartment the both of you are going to cuddle up in.¡±


    Bianca, with a huff, got on, and whispered into her ear, ¡°You¡¯re lucky Ben liked you.¡±


    Katie smiled, this time genuinely. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m pretty lucky he did.¡±

 Issue #15: Rylee Addams: Totally Normal Teenager

    Have you ever woken up feeling like you¡¯ve been run over before? It almost tops the feeling of being thrown off a skyscraper and then run over. I¡¯d like to make it seem a lot more normal for you; it was like those parties that people went to back in high school that I somehow wasn¡¯t invited to (probably because I was too busy being a superhero, anyway), where everybody would come to school with raging headaches and terrible hangovers, But when your body feels this stiff, each of your joints cracking and squeaking and popping like you¡¯re some old machine, it almost makes you stop and reconsider what exactly it is that you¡¯re doing with all of your time and effort.


    Then you turn on the news to hear about the good deeds you¡¯ve done to make it worth it!


    And then you find out they¡¯re calling you lazy first thing in the morning.


    ¡°Last night¡¯s attack near Patriot Boardwalk was a disgrace to not only Mayor Blackwood, or even our greater state of New Olympus, but to the entire country, no, the world as a whole!¡± Paul Macey said from the radio on my desk. I groaned into my pillow, hating that I had left it on a general frequency last night when I snuck in, hoping to hear that everything was deescalating in that part of the city. ¡°We aren¡¯t supposed to have attacks like that anymore, and where¡¯s the Golden Girl when we needed her most? Nowhere, folks. She¡¯s in the spotlight only when she looks good.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, how about you get punched through a train next time since it feels so good,¡± I muttered, my words muffled. The sun was on my back, the noise from just beyond my window slipping through the loose, flapping blinds. Bands of sunlight stretched across my room, touched the costume hanging in my open closet. I shut my eyes before I could stare at it for too long.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you think you¡¯re being a little too harsh, Paul?¡± Lucy said. ¡°She saved dozens of lives yesterday, and knowing Olympia, she probably went straight to some other crime scene.¡±


    ¡°Listen, Lucy. All I¡¯m saying is that Olympia needs to confront the public on her actions and keep us in the loop. She kills several thugs right in front of our eyes, then flies off, job done, without taking any kind of accountability for her actions? Where¡¯s all the gold? The stolen truck? Who exactly is going to own up to the bodies she left for dead on the street for everyone to see?¡±


    ¡°They were criminals, Paul. What chance did she have to deal with them properly? Would you rather she let them keep shooting at storefronts and pedestrians as she tried saving civilians? It¡¯s brutal, yes, and some aren¡¯t going to agree, but maybe that¡¯s the kind of force we need now.¡±


    ¡°What kind of superhuman kills people? I¡¯ll tell you what kind: the villain kind.¡±


    Lucy sighed. ¡°Oh, please, don¡¯t start with that, Paul. It¡¯s too early.¡±


    ¡°No, no, this has to be asked: why can Olympia just do what she wants all the time?¡±


    ¡°Then you shouldn¡¯t be directing these questions at Olympia, but at the Olympiad.¡±


    Paul guffawed. ¡°And why exactly should we do that?¡±


    ¡°Because they¡¯re the ones who pick and choose what battles they want to fight, and the last time I checked, their roster recently just crossed over roughly one-hundred and thirty five thousand members worldwide,¡± she said, making me smile just a little. ¡°Olympia¡¯s just one girl, frankly.¡±


    ¡°And that doesn¡¯t stop me from asking why she thinks breaking international law is justified in her eyes!¡± he argued. ¡°She¡¯s a walking crime scene! She¡¯s killed in front of our eyes! And what gives her the right to brush off every one of our laws? Is it because the government is afraid of her? Are they really bending the knee to a girl who probably isn¡¯t even out of highschool yet?¡±


    ¡°Then let me ask you this, Macey: why wasn¡¯t Zeus arrested for forcefully de-escalating conflicts in Eastern Asia without international permission from neither the United Nations nor the DPIA? And why wasn¡¯t Cleopatra found guilty for killing Samson after he took over large swathes of the Middle East in hopes of bringing peace to it which, in fact, he did before she arrived?¡±


    She let the question hang for a second, then she said, ¡°Because sometimes you just have to allow the superhumans to make the decisions for us, and pray that it¡¯s the right one, Paul. Without Zues doing what he did, who knows how many people would have starved to death during that war whilst the UN sat around bickering amongst themselves. Cleopatra stopped Samson from putting up an iron curtain around Saudi Arabia, meaning we wouldn¡¯t have known what he was doing behind the praised peace we later found out was all kinds of heavy-handed propaganda.¡±


    ¡°And I would trust her, Lucy, if Olympia was anywhere near the hero her father was.¡±


    I clamped my jaw shut and pressed my face into the ratty pillow. It was just one thing after another with this freaking guy everyday. I was pretty sure I could save him from a burning building and he¡¯d still question why I didn¡¯t turn off the running faucet in his bathroom on my way out.


    Being talked about on the news used to get a buzz going, feeding this thing inside of me that I never knew existed. Then the humans started nitpicking everything I did. Analyzing pictures of me and breaking down each possible new scar and rip and tear either on me or my gear. She¡¯s supposed to be a symbol, but she¡¯s walking around with a uniform that filthy? That was the start, the small things that got to me during lunch breaks in the school cafeteria, making me brush my hair before I went out as Olympia, clean my nails and put on cherry red lipstick. Then came the hour long news segments breaking down how I fought against a certain supervillain, or how I stopped a lowly C Grade kaiju from ripping up a grocery store. They always found something to criticize, something that made my job a lot harder because, truth be told, I let them get in my head.


    And even now, listening to them argue, I could feel my pulse quickening rapidly.


    I tried asking Lucas what I should do, how I should take it whenever some post-graduate news reporter trying to get their big break caught me off guard with a question that would land me in hot water on social media, but Shrike had been little more than a urban legend than a superhero that people believed actually existed. So long story short, he gave me a shrug and one sentence.


    ¡°You fly, don¡¯t you?¡± And when I stared at him, not particularly in the mood to play along, he added, ¡°The only people you have to answer to are yourself and every single person you save. You can fly, and they can¡¯t. You lift thousands of tons, they can¡¯t. Don¡¯t let them judge you, but when they do, and they will, all you can really do is try a little harder to make them keep quiet.¡±


    Right, because all it¡¯s ever been is just a little more, Rylee. Just a little bit more.


    But that was easy for him to say, because he had a PR department in the SDU telling him what to say and how to say it. The report they came up with stated that I had acted out of duty to the people of New Olympus, dealing with the immediate threat presented, which was true. And I agreed with Lucy, because the Olympiad watched it happen from their reinforced windows, high up in their black skyscraper and sprawling complex. Just another group of lesser villains stealing some gold and making a break for it, but what else was on, because we¡¯ve all seen that already.


    Maybe everything¡¯s the problem, I thought. Maybe everyone¡¯s a little too used to it all.


    Maybe we were all pretending that our city wasn¡¯t falling apart around us, and if we just kept arguing louder and louder with each other, we might not hear the sound of crumbling pillars.


    I slowly sat upright, feeling every fiber in my body cry out in retaliation. I needed to rest, let my body naturally heal itself before I pushed it more than I should. But I was out of my Tempest gear, the black dye washed from my hair. Rylee was in the driver¡¯s seat now, and both of my alter egos were going to have to wait until after I had breakfast. My stomach turned. My mouth felt dry, bitter, and tasted heavily of concrete powder. I must¡¯ve only slept for about an hour or two, but the clock was ticking, and my cracked phone screen told me I didn¡¯t have any time to waste.


    And I have about a dozen leads to follow today, I thought, massaging my eyes. I¡¯d have to stop by Lucas¡¯ house, search for Juliana Cortez or whatever her name was, see what she knew, who she was, then maybe scour Lower Olympus for all that property damage I caused yesterday. Going as Olympia crossed my mind. Get myself out there, get a few good PR shots as I helped clear up the rubble I¡¯d sprinkled across half the city, but¡­ that didn¡¯t sit right with me. I groaned, muttered a slew of swear words, and swung my legs off the side of my bed. I¡¯d do it as Rylee, some girl who has super strength and a lucky pair of ears that can hear anyone calling for help.


    Just some kid passing by who just so happened to help clear the rubble she poured over Lower Olympus. She¡¯s a great kid, I bet they¡¯d say, but I didn¡¯t really feel anything except guilt.


    But it was the least I could do after I destroyed several people¡¯s lives last night. If I didn¡¯t, then Emelia would be on my ass about not helping the humans with their problems or whatever.


    Gods, that reminded me, I needed to ask her to send me my rent for the month.


    And also find out who Ceaser was, the thought hitting me like a gust of icy wind. Finally, someone who would put me on the world stage. Someone I could test myself against properly.


    But that would have to wait, because wasn¡¯t there something else I was supposed to do?


    I swore. Right, I had to go talk to Ava about everything that happened last night. About the monumental screw up that left more than enough chaos right on my doorstep for me to deal with as she twirled her mustache and played supervillain until Lucifer decided to return. Then I had to talk to Witchling and figure out why she knew about some kind of group¡ªdare I say a freaking cult, but I was never the biggest fan of horror; you couldn¡¯t blame me for being afraid of something I couldn¡¯t floor with a good punch to the skull¡ªthat dealt with reanimating dead people.


    I also had to ask her about where Dominion took me a few hours ago. How she broke it¡ªshattered it¡ªwith just a single word. I¡¯d never heard of any superhuman being able to do that, either from Witchling or Dominion. I hated psychics, anyway. They were a dime a dozen, but each one a little different, with a little more knowledge on how the world worked than I ever would.


    Was it a real dungeon? Some vast, empty space he somehow found with his powers?


    Did Dominion create it? And what the fuck was that giant thing lurking in the dark?


    I leaned forward, elbows on knees, face in my palms. My hair fell around me, a brief, slightly wet shield to the light streaming into my room. So much to do. So much to deal with. But it was okay, because I chose this for myself, and nobody else was going to handle it for me, anyway.


    A part of me would kill to go back to fighting a weekly idiot who thought taking over a small midwestern town was a good idea, then go back to school to get my butt kicked by calculus.


    But things don¡¯t stay simple around here, and I would just have to get used to it.


    Besides, nothing had been simple since the day I picked up Lucas¡¯ call instead of ignoring my phone and graduating high school like a normal teenager should have a few weeks ago.


    A knock on my door, two solid taps. Shit. I must be late for my shift this morning.


    ¡°Hey, Buck,¡± Dennie said from the other side of the door. ¡°Can I¡­?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± I called, hovering to the radio and turning it down. ¡°Door¡¯s always open.¡±


    Dennie shuffled in, and my nose nearly snapped my neck when it latched onto the smell of buttered toast and eggs on a plate. He set it down on my bedside table, then said, ¡°Don¡¯t bother yourself coming in to work today. It¡¯s a Saturday, and you¡¯re a teenager on spring break. Go outside, take a walk to the park. Don¡¯t worry, I ain¡¯t firing you, just giving you a few days off.¡±


    I sighed, leaning against the wall as I felt a part of me loosen up. ¡°Gods above, D. You don¡¯t know how much I needed to hear that. I must¡¯ve cleaned the shop up pretty good, huh?¡±


    He shrugged, scanning my posters and the stack of comics on the floor beside my bed. He stepped over a pile of soggy clothes, and a towel I¡¯d left in a ball in the corner of my room several days ago. It still had some kind of slime stuck to it from a villain I¡¯d rather not remember fighting. ¡°Yeah, you ain¡¯t too bad at cleaning up after yourself. After all, this place is exactly like Eden.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m also just a teenager on spring break. Gotta act the part out in full, you know.¡±


    He smiled, laughing a little. ¡°And any plans for what comes after spring break?¡±


    A shrug. ¡°Winter break, I guess. Then New Year''s break and Christmas, too.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m talking about college, Ry.¡±


    Ah, so that¡¯s why he came in with breakfast and a day off¡ªa peace offering.


    I picked at the scabs on my arms, then walked over to the windows to push aside the blinds. With my back to him, I said, ¡°You never went to college, and you turned out just fine.¡±


    He chuckled. ¡°Right, ¡®cause you want to end up like me, some lonely old man.¡±


    ¡°A lonely old man with a bunch of comics to read all day every day,¡± I said, shrugging. ¡°What¡¯s better than that? ¡®Cause I can¡¯t think of anything else I¡¯d rather be doing all year round.¡±


    Dennie sighed as he sat on the edge of my bed. His suspenders were tight, his shirt buttoned right to the neck, as if he was expecting to go and interview some Cape any minute now. ¡°Rylee, when you came knocking on my door at two in the morning a few weeks ago, I agreed to help you out because it¡¯s the least I could do for you. But this place¡­¡± He trailed off , then looked up at me, meeting my eyes with his distant gaze. ¡°It¡¯s not a place someone like you should be in.¡±


    I pulled the seat at my desk and sat, facing him. ¡°Why not?¡± I said. ¡°I like it here.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t the room of someone who likes staying here,¡± he said, gesturing to the mess of clothes and books and the short stack of pizza boxes underneath my trash can. ¡°You¡¯re always in and out, sneaking off late at night. Your head¡¯s telling ya that you want to be here because there¡¯s a bed waiting every night, but your heart keeps dragging you out of it to who knows where, Ry.¡±


    A lump of ice filled my gut and crawled up my throat. I¡¯d had a conversation like this before, except it had been a lot more explosive, back-and-forth, rapid like gunfire. I cleared my throat and leaned on the desk, then waved my hand, playing it off. ¡°I¡¯m just busy, D. Plus I hate having to go through the shop if I want to leave because I know how hard it is for you to go to sleep, then you have me jingling the bell above the door at four in the morning, maybe dru¡ª¡±


    Dennie raised his hand and shook his head. ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me, kid. Drinking at your age happens with friends, and I know you can probably count those on an amputee¡¯s hand.¡±


    ¡°Gee, thanks, Dennie. Maybe I like getting drunk on my own.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t true, because it took a hell of a lot of alcohol to get me drunk, way too much for my weekly wage. And besides, it was easier telling people I sold drugs or went partying every night rather than telling them who I was, simply because they either thought I was being sarcastic, or explaining to them how important it is keeping my secret was to their safety was sometimes a topic a little too heavy for them to grasp. That was something nobody ever talked about in the comics I read, at least the ones I knew about: if someone else knows that secret, that silent truth, then they¡¯re carrying that weight right along with you, which wasn¡¯t fair, because you¡¯re the superhuman here, and they¡¯re just the Normal you put in danger because you slipped up once.


    Being the local bad influence meant they didn¡¯t keep an eye on me at one point. People were just a little wary of me and what I got up to. They often clutched their purses a little tighter because I had bags underneath my eyes and reeked of cold sweat. I blended in with people my age in this part of the city, even though it wasn¡¯t really what I wanted to do. It was just easier this way.


    As for lying to the people I cared about¡­ Well, I¡¯d done that my entire life. There used to be weight to it, this pressure of keeping the secret that Zeus was my dad, but that vanished this year when Veronica looked me in the eyes and told me to leave the only home I had ever really known.


    People used to ask who my dad was, where he was, what he did for a living.


    Then you grew up a little more and moved out, and nobody really cares.


    ¡°I don¡¯t mean it like that, Buck,¡± he said. ¡°Hell, crack a cold one with me some time. But I just want you to know that sure, this place is always gonna be here for you, that¡¯ll never change.¡±


    I leaned forward, looked away and muttered, ¡°You¡¯re starting to sound like Veronica.¡±


    Dennie¡¯s eyes creased as the corners of his mouth tugged down. ¡°I¡¯m not kicking you out, because that¡¯s not for me to decide. All I¡¯ve got is coffee, kiddo, and old, rotting comic books. I can¡¯t teach you much because you¡¯re not the same kid who used to work night shifts over here. I just don¡¯t want you to¡­¡± He sighed, rubbing his bad knee for several moments, then said, ¡°Before you came looking for a place to stay, I was thinkin¡¯ of selling this old place for a long time.¡±


    My brows furrowed. ¡°But¡­ you can¡¯t. This store is, like, my entire freaking childhood. Hell, mom used to bring me here after school, remember that? You promised I would run it¡ª¡±


    ¡°I never really understood having a sidekick,¡± he said quietly, looking at a comic spread out on my desk. Shrike: Issue #158¡ªThe Boy Hero. It was the first time the world got to see Shrike have someone constantly by his side, someone who never left until the very end. ¡°Too much work keeping someone inexperienced alive, I figured. Not worth the pain or effort. And not one of the Olympians had one, ¡®cept Shrike, of course, and I remember asking him why bother with one, and he looked me in the eyes and said: because I¡¯m not gonna be here forever, but Shrike will be.¡±


    Dennie looked at me, his face papery, thin, that bit more paler. ¡°Then the kid died, and Shrike was right there by his side when it happened, and a part of me wondered¡­ why?¡±


    ¡°Why what?¡± I whispered.


    ¡°Why did that kid deserve to have that kind of weight on his shoulders?¡± he said, turning away, now looking at my barely finished comic. ¡°Weight that¡¯s older than him, bigger than him, that comes with feuds and pain that belongs to someone else he never really got to understand.¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s this going, Dennie?¡± I asked, feeling slightly cold, not really able to stand up and walk off like I usually would have once he started getting close to home. ¡°I¡¯ve got things to do.¡±


    He remained silent, distant, staring at a grinning Olympia, before he shook his head and stopped rubbing his knee. ¡°Create something that you want to create, not because someone else came along and did it before you. That ain¡¯t your responsibility. Build your own house, live in it, and make sure whoever comes next after you knows how to build one on their own, too, alright?¡±


    I knew what he was saying, knew exactly where the words were coming from, but I didn¡¯t have the bandwidth to focus on any of that right now. Maybe some other time when I couldn¡¯t hear the distant bark of gunfire ring through Lower Olympus, or smell tire smoke and taste the burnt remains of someone¡¯s car probably being lit up by a White Cape not too happy about them living so close to their area. Dad was the blueprint, and I was going to do it his way, even if it was going to take some time. Doing it on my own was hard enough, but also mapping it out for everyone else who wanted to tag along for the ride was impossible. I never wanted a sidekick, anyway.


    I wasn¡¯t sure that I was the right person to work alongside another Super. Been there, done that, and I didn¡¯t have it in me to see what happened to whatever was left of them minutes later. There was a reason Olympia was a solo act, why Lucas had me on speed dial and I did what he said; not because it was the mature, intelligent thing to do, but because I owed that to him at least.


    Olympia was the one they were after, anyway, not me, and she already had enough on her plate now. But a part of me figured that having someone always there to criticize me wouldn¡¯t be fun for either of us. Emelia said I was a symbol, but I hadn¡¯t been particularly feeling like one.


    And disappointing people was just about the one thing I was getting pretty good at. I should have called Bianca after graduation, or Veronica, or Emelia and Grant and Michael, too.


    But going cold turkey is a lot easier than facing the music.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°And what if I want to stay there?¡± I asked, my voice quiet. ¡°What if I want to stay somewhere I know instead of leaving it behind on some whim? What if it¡¯s all I¡¯ve got, Dennie?¡±


    He tilted his head, smiled. ¡°You¡¯ve always got more than you think, kiddo. Always.¡±


    I nudged a cardboard box with my foot. ¡°I came with my whole life in a box just like this, Dennie. All eighteen years, and it fits inside a box, so I¡¯m not so sure how much I really have.¡±


    ¡°You came with what you needed, Rylee, what was important, and you haven¡¯t even finished removing everything inside of it yet,¡± Dennie said, jerking his thumb at my closet.


    Because maybe staying here wasn¡¯t meant to be permanent, I thought, but I didn¡¯t know how true that was either. Maybe some part of me was still holding out, still wanted to leave.


    But I shook my head and shrugged slowly, tiredly. ¡°No place for picture frames here, D.¡±


    ¡°Tell ya what, I¡¯ve got a hammer and a nail, and we¡¯ll put them up beside all these posters.¡± He nodded, pointing at a spread of the Olympians. ¡°Right alongside that bunch, alright?¡±


    I laughed a little, running a hand through my hair. ¡°Not my style, Dennie. Kinda lame.¡±


    ¡°You never know what you¡¯ve got until it¡¯s gone. Shrike told me that a couple of days after the funeral, and I figured you should hear it as well, Buck. You might¡¯ve removed all your clothes and your shoes and all these damned comics, but the pictures in that box are important. Heck, they snuck into that box without you knowing, apparently! So call your mom, too, and take a day off to maybe go grab coffee with her. It beats listening to those two mugs on the news, tell you what.¡±


    Go and talk to Veronica, I thought, rubbing my hands, my knuckles, and feeling the roughness of my skin. That wasn¡¯t on my bingo card for things I had to do this morning.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have to think about it,¡± I said to him. ¡°There¡¯s just¡­ more important things to do.¡±


    Dennie¡¯s eyes creased, the crows feet either side of them deepening as he stood. He smiled at me when he reached my door and said, ¡°Don¡¯t let your food get cold, Ry. Ronnie always makes sure that I warm your food three times longer than I do mine ¡®cause she knows how you like it.¡±


    He left me sitting at my desk, closing the door gently behind him. The food sat steaming hot, the eggs still sizzling silently in my ears. I didn¡¯t really know what to say or what to do. I felt odd inside, like my stomach wasn¡¯t settling down for whatever reason. No, I wasn¡¯t going to believe that Dennie was talking to Veronica that often, because he had to be lying. She was always at work, too busy, on her phone checking emails or always a little too occupied. I snorted, picking up the plate, only to get it out of the sun, because the only reason my food was always so hot at home was because she would get caught up doing something else after she left it in the microwave.


    It didn¡¯t mean the eggs on toast didn¡¯t taste good though, but that didn¡¯t matter right now.


    I wiped the crumbs off my fingers and walked toward my closet, pulling out my limp and slightly damp costume. I had tried washing it for about ten minutes when I got back this morning, tried to get the stains and the smells out of the spandex and the protective cotton knitted into it underneath. No game. The suit was a little cleaner, but it was getting old, a little more faded¡ªthe red wasn¡¯t as sharp, and the blue was looking tired and weak in the early morning light. The only thing that still stood out was the lightning bolt, so I guess it wasn¡¯t all a giant loss so far.


    A part of me had the urge to go out there and be Olympia for at least a few minutes, an hour at most, just so I could get the weird supervilla funk off my skin. But I also had responsibilities, you know, like telling Lucas about everything I saw, and also figuring out where those special grade assault rifles we weren¡¯t able to get our hands on disappeared off to. The drugs, too, and all those new supervillains like Frankie and Wraith and their not so little monster pet.


    And Caesar, I thought, sitting on my bed. I searched for a thread and needle in my backpack, and finally found one so I could start piecing together the rips and shreds. Caesar, Caesar, it doesn¡¯t ring any kind of bells. He must be new, maybe someone from outside the city.


    But someone seemingly big enough, important enough, to have an operation as large as the force I had fought against last night. He was a threat to Ava¡¯s group, and more importantly to me.


    I had to admit, I was just a little bit excited as I sewed my gear together. I had cut my teeth on countless burglars and purse snatchers when my powers kicked in, not getting much further than just around the block from home, then I graduated to murderers and war criminals, but now I needed someone to test my metal against, someone that dad would have approved of, because superheroes didn¡¯t get statues in the bay by catching some homeless guy stealing buns from a bakery; they got emblazoned in gold in their home city by defending it from threats so great that only a certain brand of superhero could defeat it. I didn¡¯t know if I was that crop yet, on that level.


    But I didn¡¯t have anybody else to test myself against than Caesar. I didn¡¯t know what he was planning, or if he was the reason I hadn¡¯t been able to sleep at night for the past month.


    All I knew was that he needed to be dealt with, and spectacularly. I was all about statements, it had pretty much been my tagline ever since I came onto the scene, but letting the world¡¯s worst know that the daughter of Zeus meant business would be a great starting point.


    For now, though, I had to wallow in Lower Olympus¡¯ filthy underbelly to find him.


    My phone rattled on my desk, its tiny speaker screeching to life. I glanced at the name flashing across the screen, then sucked air through my teeth. ¡°Hey, Em. How¡¯s my fave superh¡ª¡±


    ¡°Probably not as good as you are this morning,¡± Emelia said. ¡°Vacation last night?¡±


    I sighed quietly. ¡°I was actually busy all night. Haven¡¯t slept a wink in like two days.¡±


    ¡°So I guess this means that you¡¯ve been kicking ass as Rylee, the comic book writer, too?¡±


    It dawned on me that very second that I had a meeting in about¡­


    Right now. I had a meeting with her agent right freaking now.


    I stood suddenly, and the gust of wind threw papers off my desk. ¡°Yeah, of course I¡¯ve been kicking all kinds of ass with the comic I totally finished last night. In fact, it¡¯s so good that I might need a little bit more time to make it less awesome. In case he thinks I stole it, y¡¯know.¡±


    I smelt the sickly stench of ozone blowing into my room the next second, and I shut my eyes, slid the phone off my ear, and sighed a lot louder when Emelia rasped her knuckles against my window. Here¡¯s some fun advice for you: if you''re going to make friends in middle school through to high school, make sure it¡¯s not with anyone who can run faster than the speed of sound. On the other hand, Emelia had been stopping by a lot more recently, right in the middle of shooting whatever teen series she was starring in this year. I guess this made me really special in her books.


    That, or both of us just didn¡¯t have that many other friends to argue with every other day.


    I pushed open my window, letting in the full might of Lower Olympus¡¯ smoke-tinged air to infiltrate my room. Emelia leaned against the fire escape railing, hair in a ponytail, and this time in jeans and a baggy white t-shirt rather than her usual running gear. As always she looked like a million bucks compared to the two cents and an I Owe You that was me in my Olympian pajama bottoms and thrift store t-shirt. She didn¡¯t always dress like this, especially not back in high school, but money polishes, and it seemingly used all of its spit and elbow grease on her this morning.


    She popped up her sunglasses and said, ¡°You look like you need a spring break, Ry.¡±


    ¡°How can I when I¡¯ve got friends like you who remind me of the joys of daily labor?¡± I said, waving her in. She ducked under the window, stepping over piles of clothes and comics.


    ¡°Love what you¡¯ve done with the place,¡± she said, perching herself on my bed. ¡°You know, back home, my mom used to make my brothers and I take everything out of the rooms, out of the house, and then start cleaning. Then we¡¯d put everything back inside of it after we finished.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, Ronnie would just throw a fit about it then go to the lab for a few hours.¡±


    Emelia looked me over, her brows creasing. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you didn¡¯t finish it.¡±


    I scratched the back of my head and turned toward my desk. ¡°I¡¯ve just been busy, Em. Really, really busy, and I know I was meant to finish it a while back, but things over here¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not here to sound off on you, Blondie,¡± she said softly. ¡°I came here just to check whether you¡¯re alright. I didn¡¯t catch you on the news last night, and I tried to call, but you didn¡¯t answer. I¡¯ll admit, I was kinda pissed off at first, but then I started getting all worried about you.¡±


    ¡°Oh my Gods,¡± I said, looking at her. ¡°Are you getting all mushy on me, superhero?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s called being worried about your friends, or whatever it is me and you are.¡±


    I wrinkled my nose. ¡°Geez, at least wait for my food to digest first.¡±


    She laughed dryly, then muttered something in Spanish. ¡°I don¡¯t really know how Brett is gonna take the news, but I¡¯ll take your side, because I¡¯m also partly to blame for this mess.¡±


    I shook my head, sitting down beside her. ¡°If you think this is a mess, wait till you see everything that¡¯s happening in Lower Olympus, Em. Like actual Lower Olympus. Last night¡±¡ªI dropped my voice to a whisper¡ª¡°I fought some guy who could literally come back to life. Then this other creep who could use the shadows to, like, suck the life out of people, like he was some kind of vampire. Oh, and there was also this one chick, really annoying¡ªshe was immortal, I guess, and trust me, I tried getting rid of her, but she just pulled herself back together right after!¡±


    Emelia nodded, hazel eyes searching mine. She remained silent for several seconds, her fingers tapping against her sunglasses; a bi-product of her powers. ¡°Holy shit you¡¯re not joking.¡±


    ¡°I wish I was,¡± I muttered, rubbing my eyes. ¡°The comic just feels so small now.¡±


    She leaned forward, too, elbows on knees. ¡°Growing up here made everything feel small. School, my grades, making friends like you and Grant and Michael. But other things still matter outside of this place, you know. It can get too much too quickly, and you need something else to focus on eventually.¡± She bumped my arm, smiling. ¡°Superheroes are all me ¡®n¡¯ you have, Ry.¡±


    I laughed a little. ¡°Except you get paid to get punched.¡±


    ¡°And I also get my own assistant, too.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°So what¡¯s the game plan? I could always distract him with, well, Olympia.¡±


    She shook her head and pulled out her phone. ¡°We¡¯ll just talk to him. There¡¯s no point in the theatrics, because if you did try that, then he¡¯d be on my ass about getting you a contract.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯d shake his hand if I got my very own assistant, too,¡± I said.


    Emelia rolled her eyes and took a picture of the fire escape outside. Before I could ask what she was doing, I heard a soft, hollow pop, then smelt cheap cologne in the air. A man with a shock of pale blonde hair stumbled against the fire escape, put a hand to his mouth, then swallowed the vomit I could smell that he forced down his throat. After he popped a piece of mint gum, he threw on the kind of smile that would land him on a magazine cover, but the kind you would usually find in dollar store gas stations in the ass end of nowhere. He let himself into my room, and readjusted his black blazer as he looked around, still with that smile. I stood up, feeling like a mess.


    And very underprepared. I always pictured an office, maybe some sparkling water and a receptionist in a pencil skirt that would look me up and down from just past a very sharp nose.


    But no, my first ever meeting was happening in my pajamas, in my shed of a room, and¡­


    Fuck. My costume lay splayed on my bed, and Brett glanced at it before he looked at me, his green eyes pale but somehow still bright enough to be enticing, like some kind of viper.


    He stuck out his hand, the one with the large gold ring on his index finger. ¡°Brett Gordon, super agent, superhuman, and you must be the fabled little lady that Emelia and Grant have been really, really forcing onto me.¡± Still smiling, hand still out. I shook it, not really knowing if he was complimenting me or not. I glanced at Emelia as she shrugged. ¡°Well, where¡¯s the comic, huh?¡±


    ¡°Well, funny story¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh, great! I love a good story,¡± he said, but his voice was enthusiastic, and I couldn¡¯t really tell if he was being sarcastic, too. Gods, it was like playing a game. ¡°Enlighten me, then show me the comic, because I just love New Olympus to bits¡ªwho doesn¡¯t?¡ªbut I¡¯ve got a meeting in about ten minutes that I need to get to or else she¡¯s going to be out of the business.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll talk about that later, Brett,¡± Emelia said. ¡°You know, like we promised.¡±


    He looked at me, dropping his voice a little. ¡°And I don¡¯t break promises, especially with the people who keep the lights on in my house!¡± He laughed, dry and short, then waited silently.


    My tongue remained flat, stuck to the roof of my mouth. I pitched the comic back in high school to Emelia and Grant, because I knew getting into the Olympiad would be a pain, but I knew I could do it on my own somehow. Veronica wasn¡¯t going to lend me a single second of the day to explain why she should shell out that kind of money for a dream she hadn¡¯t believed in for longer than I¡¯d been alive, and most of the rich superhuman kids around the city just bought their way into the Olympiad training program, anyway. Hell, even Velocity¡¯s entire family had all been in the Olympiad. They were heritage, legacy, and I had that too, but I couldn¡¯t exactly knock on the front door and tell them that hey, the guy you built that statue of? Yeah, he¡¯s my dad, and I¡¯m Olympia.


    I would be fine doing that if it wasn¡¯t only myself in the picture, but dragging my friends and, even though I didn¡¯t like admitting it, my only blood related family left into this part of my life wasn¡¯t what I was planning on doing. I needed to get the money first, then I¡¯d talk to them about it, fill them in on everything, but after last night, joining the Olympiad felt a little strange. Weird.


    Because I didn¡¯t really know what kind of people were saving the world right now.


    I cleared my throat, wrung my hands, and said, ¡°I¡¯ve got nothing.¡±


    Brett stood motionless. ¡°I¡¯m waiting for the punchline but it feels like the joke is over.¡±


    I gestured toward the papers on my desk and the few on the floor. ¡°All I¡¯ve got is a couple of stencils, storyboards, and that¡¯s about it.¡± I sighed, feeling a pit open in my stomach, because blowing this chance meant undoubtedly relying on Ava. ¡°The comic isn¡¯t even close to finished.¡±


    Silence followed, and his smile became a thin line of faintly glossy lips.


    ¡°But,¡± I started, as Brett sighed, ¡°if you just gave me about two¡­ no, one week, then¡ª¡±


    ¡°Listen, Rebecca,¡± he said.


    ¡°Rylee,¡± Emelia said. ¡°She¡¯s called Rylee, remember?¡±


    ¡°Whatever your name is,¡± he said, picking up a piece of paper with a faint sketch on it. ¡°I¡¯m not a talent scout, alright? And if I was, I¡¯d probably have signed you onto some temp contract, but that doesn¡¯t work in the comic book industry, nor does it work for authors, so I don¡¯t really see how I can help you here. I was promised a finished product and this¡­ Well, it just isn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°But it can be if you just give me a few more days.¡±


    He cocked an eyebrow. ¡°What, you can draw an entire comic, start to finish, in just a few days? Right, and you can dress me in red and gold and call me Zeus, because that¡¯s nonsense.¡±


    ¡°But what isn¡¯t nonsense is that she¡¯s also just one person,¡± Em said. ¡°Remember the first time you ever called Grant, and you asked to be our manager and agent? You were working out of some trailer park in God knows where, Mr. Cufflinks. You¡¯ve just got to give her a shot, too.¡±


    Brett looked at her, then at me, then finally nodded. ¡°Ah, I get it. The old team-up-on-Brett thing. Make me feel guilty for not picking up some teenager from the skids in Lower Olympus.¡±


    ¡°Is it working?¡± I asked. ¡°Because we¡¯ve been practicing all night long.¡±


    He sighed, rubbing his forehead with his thumbs. ¡°Sure, whatever, but mostly because this comic could be¡­ something, I guess, and pair it with a sad sap story of a disenfranchised girl from boot-lick county Olympus making it big in a world that wasn¡¯t going to accept her otherwise is always going to sell a few more copies. Sympathy points and all the rest of it.¡± Brett looked me over again, biting his thumbnail. ¡°Emelia says that nobody else can write this comic better than you, and I don¡¯t exactly know how much of that is true, so I¡¯ll ask you, Rebecca, why it is.¡±


    I picked up my costume and said, ¡°¡®Cause I¡¯m Olympia, and I know who I am.¡±


    Brett rolled his eyes. ¡°Lace me up in some thigh-high boots and call me Cleopatra, and maybe nobody¡¯s gonna tell the difference between us and the Olympians. But you know what?¡±


    I could see Emelia shaking her head behind him, pinching the bridge of her nose.


    Brett patted my shoulder and said, ¡°You¡¯re a mess. A grand mess. It¡¯s so spectacular and so layered that I can almost see myself in you, and that makes me viciously uncomfortable. But it works, because, I mean, look at this place, at these posters and these comics, all this art and this lingering smell of sweat and¡­ rust, I guess, that comes together to create this hurricane of delusion. And it¡¯s just so sad!¡± He grabbed me by the shoulders, and I recoiled, but didn¡¯t pull away¡ªhe was so insistent, his eyes burning with some fire he¡¯d lit in himself, that I just couldn¡¯t find it in myself to break apart his flow. ¡°You can be the face of hope, you know that, kid?¡±


    ¡°And here he goes,¡± Emelia muttered.


    ¡°What do you mean the face of hope?¡± I asked quietly, because, hell, a part of me was buying into this little speech. Everyone always had something to say about Olympia, but not me.


    I know it sounded selfish, but it felt kinda good being actually seen for once, even if I was being called a slob by some guy who probably has someone wax his entire body every other day.


    ¡°Kids in these parts don¡¯t have anything going for them,¡± he said, then added, ¡°No offense, Em, you were special, but a lot of ¡®em aren¡¯t. But if a girl like you, Rebecca, can make it into the limelight, purely from this delusion she¡¯s got inside of her, from this need of wanting to be the superhero she looks up to¡ªthe very superhero she¡¯s dedicated her entire life to creating a comic about, heck, even a replica, shitty costume¡ªthen what¡¯s the limit for every other kid around here? Anyone can be a hero, you¡¯ve just gotta¡­ gotta¡­¡± He swore, then bit the corner of his mouth. ¡°I just had it. Ah! Anyone can be a hero, but you¡¯ve just got to be strong enough to trust the process.¡±


    He breathed a little hard, and I could even see the pinprick red veins in his wide eyes. I swallowed saliva, slickening my throat. You¡¯ve just got to trust the process. I liked that, loved it.


    High school, especially my senior year, had been one of the hardest years of my life. But the Olympia part had been the easier part, the part I understood a lot more. People praised me¡ªwell, they praised her¡ªand gossiped about her in the cafeteria, after class, in class, and some people wore unofficial merch (which I never saw a single dollar from). But it felt so surreal being this person that everybody loved and listened to and watched videos about. I was popular, and it sounds trite now after leaving high school, but it meant the world to the weird little blonde girl.


    Because she wasn¡¯t getting the attention, and nobody paid attention to her.


    But my heart was beating faster now, pulsating against my chest. Blood sang in my ears, and heat bubbled in my gut. This was my chance, something that I could do for myself for once.


    So I nodded slowly, once, then nodded again. ¡°I think I kinda like hearing that.¡±


    He grinned nice and wide. ¡°And you will, but only if you get a draft on my desk soon.¡±


    ¡°I can do it by tomo¡ª¡±


    ¡°She¡¯ll get it to you by next week,¡± Emelia said. ¡°Which means that she¡¯ll give it to me to give it to you, Brett. Isn¡¯t that right, Rylee, since you can¡¯t just up and leave New Olympus?¡±


    Right, right, I still have to put out about half a million fires in this city this summer.


    ¡°Oh, nonsense.¡± He waved his hand through the air, looking at me. ¡°Have you ever wanted to see the palm trees down the sunset strip, Rebecca? Las Vegas has one hell of a killer superhuman night club scene, and I don¡¯t know about you, but this summer feels special.¡±


    Emelia looped her arm around my shoulder and pulled me away. ¡°She¡¯s sure.¡±


    ¡°I can speak and think for myself, you know,¡± I said. ¡°Matter of fact, Las Vegas¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªis gonna have to wait until you finish all that important superhero comic work, right?¡± Emelia stared at me for several seconds, tilting her head toward the open window, and the distant rattle, crack and pop of gunfire, superhuman street fights, and who knew what else going on.


    I groaned internally. ¡°Yeah, whatever. I¡¯ll get it on your desk in a couple of weeks.¡±


    An alarm buzzed on Brett¡¯s phone as he shook his head. ¡°Real shame, but I¡¯ll be waiting to get that comic. This could be your really, really big break. Once in a lifetime stuff.¡± He smiled and slapped my shoulder again. ¡°I bet nothing this exciting has ever happened to you before, right?¡±


    And with that, he disappeared with the same soft pop, leaving behind a faint scent of aftershave, cologne, and fruit punch. I sat down on my bed, bouncing a little. I looked up at Emelia, and found that she was staring hard at me, almost judging, as if I¡¯d done something wrong.


    ¡°I think that went great,¡± I said, lying down and putting my hands behind my head. ¡°Look at me, Em, I¡¯m a natural. I should be doing this instead of putting on this old thing every night.¡±


    ¡°He figured you out in a minute and played you like a flute, Ry. That¡¯s what happened.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Then he¡¯s a pretty good musician, ¡®cause I¡¯m sold. Plus¡­ I don¡¯t know, Em, I did kind of like what I was hearing, even though he didn¡¯t really mean it. I don¡¯t have much for myself, you know, and making something for myself is at least a little better than just being¡ª¡±


    ¡°A superhero who everyone relies on?¡± she asked. ¡°Which might be a little more important than some struggling, tortured artist living in the attic of yet another old and tortured artist.¡±


    I blew air through my nose. ¡°You just love sapping the fun out of everything.¡±


    She gently kicked my foot. ¡°You know what you need? Some time off.¡±


    I shut my eyes and asked, ¡°Aren¡¯t you the same person who pissed all over my parade last night because I wasn¡¯t working hard enough? Now you want me to work less? Pick a struggle.¡±


    ¡°I meant you need some time off of being yourself,¡± she said gently. ¡°This new you that¡¯s always stressed out about what¡¯s coming next needs to take a backseat for a moment and let the Rylee I used to know have a little bit of fun. The old you would probably be somewhere above the Atlantic right now, flying at mach two just to feel a little loose. Now you¡¯re old and grouchy.¡±


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s what happens when I learnt that taxes are a thing people actually pay.¡±


    Emelia tossed my Olympia gear onto my face. ¡°Put it on, and let¡¯s go. The city isn¡¯t going anywhere, and if you¡¯re going to see Lucas, my guess is that he¡¯s probably busy dealing with last night¡¯s mess, which means that you have at least a few hours to just be a teenager who can fly.¡±


    I opened a single eye, looked her up and down. ¡°What¡¯re you playing at, Light Bulb?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just making sure you feel a lot more like Rylee than you do Olympia, because somewhere along the line you separated the two when you shouldn¡¯t have in the first place.¡±


    ¡°You know that it''s easier like that, anyway,¡± I muttered. ¡°I¡¯ve got a dozen leads¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯ll just have to give you an hour,¡± she said, stepping toward the window. ¡°Nothing more, nothing less. Then I¡¯ll go back on set before Grant blows a fuse. What do you say?¡±


    I sighed, rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands. ¡°How fast do you run?¡±


    ¡°Faster than you can blink, probably. I beat you the last time we raced, remember?¡±


    But I was already out the window by the time she finished her sentence.

 Issue #16: Free Fall

    By the time Emelia found me, the sun was just over my dad¡¯s shoulder, meaning that today was feeling like it was going to be a lot warmer than usual, or otherwise known as a typical New Olympus summertime heatwave. Sweat sat gleaming on my brow and trickled down my back, slickening the gap between my skin and my suit. The wind so high up on this towering skyscraper I stood on was trying its best to wipe it all away, all whilst it pulled my hair over my shoulder. The sounds below me were melodic, a hum of cars and people and some party happening beneath me.


    If I was any more vain, I would have put my fists on my hips and let the wind buffet my hair for a little longer as I looked over the city, but instead I sat down on the ledge, feet dangling a good seventy or so floors above the pavement. Young Rylee would have had a heart attack being up this high; so high up that the wind bit a little harder, snipped at your ears a little more painfully, but I had gotten over my fear of heights (because I was kinda forced to), and being all the way up here meant that I didn¡¯t have to contend with whatever bullshit was waiting for me down there.


    Not that I didn¡¯t like the humans or what problems they had, like I said before. I loved them, but they wouldn¡¯t miss me for just a few hours, at least until Lucas was free to talk or I gathered the energy I needed to walk over toward Ava and ask about her brilliant plan last night.


    I leaned back on my palms and sighed, forcing myself to forget about everything for just a second. It had been a while since I last did¡­ nothing, and I was kinda digging it. Maybe I¡¯d cross state lines and see what was happening around the US soon, or pop over to Europe, but they didn¡¯t like me much over there, judging by the social media rant threads they go on, so I¡¯d stick to what I knew for now. Heck, the view wasn¡¯t so bad up here. If I squinted I could probably see Olympus U¡¯s stadium tucked away in the forestry on the outskirts of the city. I wondered if Bianca had already applied. Probably. She was psyched about the sports program¡ªfor a D Grade superhuman who was just on average a little bit better than a girl her age could physically be, it was heaven over there with its high tech facilities. It also didn¡¯t hurt that her mom was the Dean as well.


    And it could have been the same for me, too, but I wasn¡¯t planning on joining. It was a school for kids whose parents didn¡¯t want them joining the Olympiad during their recruitment drives. They learnt how to use their powers for ¡®good,¡¯ like welding or carpentry or running the hundred meters faster than most humans could blink, or whatever it is college kids learnt all day.


    It just wasn¡¯t my style, going to college.


    Besides, I couldn¡¯t double back now. Ronnie had made it very clear that she wanted me there right after high school ended, even if it was just to join their creative arts program. But if I had agreed to her that night, then I wouldn¡¯t be sitting here on the edge of a skyscraper, would I?


    It¡¯s not like Olympus U pumps out superheroes anymore, anyway, I thought. Before the Olympiad, that¡¯s all us superhumans had to aim for if we wanted to make it any further than the grimy rooftops of whatever city we came from. Now it was full of athletes and kids who¡¯ve got powers so weird that I wouldn¡¯t even bother trying to explain how they could ever help anyone.


    The alternative was, of course, Olympus West, but if they took one look at my GPA they would probably be insulted that I thought I even had a chance in hell of wearing their uniform.


    Plus, the last I heard, some of my favorite high school pains in the neck were going there come fall, so you¡¯d expect to find me anywhere but those ivy covered white brick buildings.


    The air crackled with a sudden burst of electrical charge, and Em appeared beside me, panting, a little sweaty, and wearing a costume I hadn¡¯t seen in a very long time. It was a one piece without any sleeves, skin-tight, purple, white and black. She held her side as she breathed hard, and I let her take a moment, because the last time I saw her in costume was when I watched the premier of her tv show at the start of this year. But the last time I saw her in full costume was back in high school, back before the Alps incident, and before being a superhero became confusing.


    ¡°I think you¡¯re supposed to get here a lot faster than that,¡± I said. ¡°Aren¡¯t you, like, the fastest person on the planet or something? At least, that¡¯s what everyone used to say in school.¡±


    Emelia looked at me, deadpan, then said, ¡°I haven¡¯t¡­¡± She took a deeper breath, shut her eyes, then continued. ¡°I haven¡¯t run this hard in a while, alright? Give me a sec, Blondie.¡±


    I hovered onto my feet and nudged her shoulder. ¡°No special effects out here, Sparky.¡±


    Her nose wrinkled. ¡°I know what I heard, and I¡¯m going to pretend like you didn¡¯t say it.¡±


    I stepped backward, closer to the air just beyond the ledge. ¡°Sparky, or special effects?¡±


    Emelia stepped onto the concrete lip, put her hand on my chest, and said, ¡°You¡¯re lucky you can fly, and just so your head doesn¡¯t get too big, I¡¯ll race you to the churro stand near the fountain on 12th Avenue. First one there gets free churros, courtesy of the loser, of course.¡±


    I sucked air in between my teeth and patted my hips and thighs. ¡°I forgot my wallet.¡±


    ¡°Then you better start flying, superhero.¡± And with that, she pushed me off the ledge.


    Falling backwards, I watched as she grew smaller and smaller standing on the lip above me. My hair was flung around my face, the wind howling in my ears. I turned around, smiling a little because I knew she was giving me a head start, so I tucked my arms against my torso, pointing right down toward the growing pavement, and the people pointing with their fingers and cameras as I shot toward them. Flying was freeing, exhilarating, and I might not be the best at it, but come on, how could I stop myself from laughing a little as I carved my way through the air just above the Normals, skimming over the trees planted on either side of the street, pulling along leafs and loose newspapers along for the gusty ride. I spread my arms out, letting the wind carry me upward. I had no idea where 12th Avenue was, but I was following the money trail beneath me.


    Expensive cars, luxurious storefronts, that¡¯s what blurred past me as I swung around the side of a building, clipping the corner with my fingertips to shoot around it. At this kind of speed, everything counted, and at this kind of speed, Emelia was a brief scent of perfume, a flash of violet electricity, and a blown kiss that flashed past me in seconds. Playing up being exhausted, I thought, giving up on scouring the streets and shooting for the sky instead. Guess it pays to be an actress. I wasn¡¯t a fan of losing, and especially not to the churro prices around these parts, so after I paused high in the air, breathing hard, cartwheeling freely to a stop, I found a route toward the shopping complex on 12th Avenue. About a dozen or so blocks away. Maybe more if I took my sweet time, and hell, I was a winner, Zeus¡¯ daughter, and you know the rest of it¡ªI¡¯ll take the long route just to rub it in Em¡¯s face. Faster than me? No chance. We weren¡¯t in high school anymore, not at all.


    Everything that came with high school was long gone, anyway. It was just us now.


    Us and the wind, the sky and the sun, gold, violet, and free sugary churros.


    I spun around in the air, turning my back to the dart of purple electricity rapidly making its way toward 12th Avenue, tucked my legs to my chest, and fell like a stone. My gut lurched, hitting my ribs like a sack of wet dough. I spread my arms and legs out, got hit by a heaving updraft of hot wind, and skimmed over gravel filled rooftops, antennas poking into the sky, and frightened a flock of pigeons off a gargoyle perched on the side of a looming skyscraper. I flew toward the beach and the sparkling waters beyond it, turning through the air to catch the sun sitting far on the horizon.


    I paused for the briefest second. That half a second that Normals won¡¯t ever get to feel. The sun tickled my cheeks, washed away the coldness of what I¡¯d had to get down and dirty with last night, then I let myself fall toward the water beneath me, closer to the surfers gaping up at me, some with their fists raised and cheering, others just staring, but a few guys and girls caught my drift, saw the wave that was rising in the early morning tide. If I was going to be Olympia for a few hours, then I might as well enjoy myself before my life got serious again. Too much to do, too much to think of, but who cared right now because the surfers were on their boards as the wave came rolling toward them. I followed suit, darting underneath the waves¡¯ crashing arch and just above their heads. I tasted the ocean and its current, the froth and its bitterness. I was skimming over it now, leaving the surfers behind as they called after me. My reflection smiled at me¡ªme, this time, not Olympia or Rylee: me¡ªas I flew underneath Athena Bridge and its rust-red colors.


    I cut across the waters, doubling back around high up through the air, up and up, then I let myself fall freely, nothing stopping me as my hair was whipped into a frenzy and dad¡¯s statue grew from just a speck to the towering behemoth of gold standing in the bay area. The houses here were expensive, the food luxurious, tantalizing to a nose that could smell almost every single spice being massaged into the meat getting prepared for the day. It was a tourist trap filled with stores brimming with counterfeit memorable, like the very rubble that Cleopatra picked herself up off when she was fighting Titan (each chunk for $5, but just for you, I¡¯d do $3), or Blitz¡¯s first ever pair of running shoes (which looked strangely familiar to the tattered Nike¡¯s I saw in boxes at the back of those stores.) Hell, I even saw a few t-shirts with Olympia printed all over them in bold red and gold.


    I took note of those two colors, the red and gold. Maybe for my next suit, or whenever I got the cash to find someone who could put something together for me without breaking the bank.


    I had come to this part of the city for everything, the special kind energy that only New Olympus had when it was starting to wake up from its restless night, shaking off its dreamy haze, but most importantly, I was here to fly just over dad¡¯s head, to trace my fingers across his rounded shoulders and see his tight-lipped smile shine over the people below him. I had never stood on this statue before, simply because it didn¡¯t feel like it was something I should ever do in this lifetime.


    But you should have seen the looks on the tourists¡¯ faces at the base of the statue. Dozens of guys were doing his pose, arms either flexed or on their hips as laughing girlfriends took pictures of them, until they saw me flying overhead, and suddenly they were pointing and filming. It¡¯ll give Paul and Lucy something to froth about, I thought, now heading toward the shopping complex, waving at the almost feral mob of little kids screaming my name. I didn¡¯t know much about marketing, or making myself more appealing to these people. Humans had always confused me a little, but I knew they loved dad, and this was the one way I could get them to love me, too.


    Dad used to do this a lot, actually¡ªfly around the city, not exactly looking for a crime to handle, but just to¡­ watch, to see and learn and listen to the humans. Gods, the amount of times my stomach had dropped in history class when I got an alert on my phone because someone on social media had posted a picture eating hotdogs with Zeus himself was uncountable. It almost hurt, I¡¯ll admit, because all these random people throughout the city had more pictures with my own dad than I had in my entire home. But I understood it, because he was Zeus, simple as that.


    He didn¡¯t really need an explanation to do what he wanted to do, so neither did I.


    And why bother with your power-less little kid when you could be saving the world?


    I swallowed past the lump in my throat and continued through the sky, threading my way through the New Olympus megastructures towering over the streets. I ducked underneath snapping American flags, breezed past a couple drinking coffee as they sat down on a rattling air conditioning unit atop a roof. The city had a pulse to it, this beating heart I could feel flowing through my veins and arteries, something that quickened as I dipped a little lower, closer to the street, forgetting Emelia for a moment as I high fived a little girl who¡¯d been shouting my name for the past two minutes. She squealed, a grin on her face, before her mom and dad quickly pulled her away and into a waiting car on the street. I smiled and forced myself to go faster, following Em¡¯s trail through the city. I couldn¡¯t fly as close to  the street as I liked, because humans didn¡¯t do so well against sudden gusts of wind. Really bad for their health when they get turned into paste.


    Some fliers were a lot faster, cleaner, like bullets slicing through the wind. For whatever reason, when my eyes were golden and electricity was buzzing around my body, I would take at least several people along with me. I preferred run ups, just to get me going without hurting anybody by accident, but it made flying through the city slower and a hell of a lot more confusing.


    And this time, when I followed her perfume¡¯s sweet scent, I got lost at a buzzing junction of pedestrians and people, with billboards advertising so many products and movies and tv shows that the sudden surge of noise nearly made me dizzy. A whistle caught my attention, then someone yelled my name. I didn¡¯t pay it any attention at first before I saw Emelia high up on the slanted roof tiles just above a billboard. I flew upward, landing beside her with a grunt of slight exhilaration. The space behind the billboard was a mess, with electrical cables, cigarette nubs, beer bottles and dead rodents littering the area, but nobody else was up here with us, and as the sun continued climbing higher into the sky, the heat was only going to get a lot worse. The shade was worth it.


    ¡°Tapped out?¡± I asked her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, keeping up with me is impossible, anyway.¡±


    Em rolled her eyes, then jumped down from the billboard and onto a thick rusted pipe. ¡°You were taking your sweet time sightseeing, so I figured I shouldn¡¯t embarrass you in front of all your fans. Besides, I¡¯d already gotten to the churro stand two minutes after I passed you, Blondie.¡±


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    I shrugged, sitting on the pipe, sweat dripping from my brow. ¡°Isn¡¯t it illegal for you to be doing this? Like, you know, running around in your old costume, using your powers in public.¡±


    She started walking around the little area, the sound of beeping cars and people lost on us. ¡°Yeah, it is, but from what I¡¯ve learnt working with Americans, any publicity is good publicity.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°I¡¯m sure the government¡¯s gonna love hearing that defense in court.¡±


    She laughed a little. ¡°I¡¯m kidding. But I never stopped wearing this thing, you know. I kept it clean, kept the moths away from it because¡­ Well, it fits, and sometimes I just like wearing it. I¡¯m probably going to get in a hell of a lot of trouble, but I¡¯m technically not doing any vigilante work, too.¡± Em walked to the edge of the building and jumped off the side. I followed, finding her on the rooftop of the building next to us. When I caught up, hovering, she said, ¡°I had a meeting with Brett about it weeks ago, about bringing back this costume for the series finale of the show.¡±


    I decided to walk alongside her, leaping the gap between buildings when she zapped over, following her footsteps as we gingerly walked along electrical lines thousands of feet above the busy roads below. ¡°Series finale? I thought you guys just got renewed for another three seasons.¡±


    Jump, walk, jog and jump again. ¡°Well, we did,¡± she said as the buildings we leapt from got shorter and shorter, and the air a little huskier and heavier with smoke. ¡°But that¡¯s why Brett had to run for his meeting. The studio started getting involved with production and things got really messy between us three. Michael figures we should quit entirely; I guess he¡¯s never really liked the spotlight. Finds it embarrassing that he¡¯s running around small towns fighting crime when¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªhis dad was a former Olympian,¡± I finished. ¡°And my dad¡¯s only prodigy.¡±


    Emelia nodded. ¡°Grant is¡­ Grant. He¡¯s shaking every hand that¡¯s stuck out toward him. Tonto.¡± She tapped my shoulder and pointed at a faded billboard for some energy drink in Grant¡¯s hand. Flaming Hot Energy, Just Like Me! ¡°I think he really just doesn¡¯t want to come back here.¡±


    I had a feeling that was the case, and I was probably the biggest reason for that case, but I kept my lips sealed, my jaw clenched. My gut betrayed me, curling into a knot that weighed me down as I took Emelia¡¯s hand and flew us over one of the smaller rivers reaching into the city, but more importantly, closer to Lower Olympus. We walked in silence for a moment, gravel crunching underneath our boots. I didn¡¯t want to dwell on Grant, and seeing Emelia every so often was a punishment that I was getting used to, something I deserved because of what had happened years ago. And as for Michael¡­ He¡¯d never been my biggest fan, Rylee or otherwise. No game there.


    I cleared my throat before my mind began drifting and my body tensed up. ¡°So, you guys are thinking of breaking every teenager¡¯s hearts right now and cutting the show just like that?¡±


    ¡°Oh, please,¡± she said, jumping onto and off old broken pipes. ¡°The only people who really care about Atomville are the executives and whoever likes watching that kind of stuff.¡±


    I smiled, nudging her arm. ¡°Like all those people who ship you and Grant together?¡±


    She made a face. ¡°I learnt what that meant just last month, and no, chica. No way.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on, Sparky,¡± I said, spreading my arms as we walked. ¡°He¡¯s been making puppy dog eyes at you ever since you joined in middle school, and I¡¯ll admit, he¡¯s kinda¡ª¡±


    ¡°Make that ¡®he¡¯s flaming hot¡¯ joke, Blondie, and I¡¯m gonna punch you in the face.¡±


    Well, whaddya expect me to say when he¡¯s got the ability to control fire?


    We stopped on the rooftops of a crumbling apartment complex, one that looked out toward the ocean. The bricks were dull red, dusted with ash from long dead fires and the same concrete powder that lined almost everything in Lower Olympus. Chimney smoke from archaic factories turned the sky slightly hazy and the streets even hazier. How quickly this city could go from power washed streets, music, children chasing each other around large open spaces as their parents watched on, smiling from fancy apartments to grit and grime and the lingering stench of sour decay was beyond me. We startled a commune of homeless people when we landed on the pavement, making their little feral dog lose its mind as it started barking and tugging on its metal collar.


    Their reaction was tense, first, watching me with eyes too wide and too frightened for me to feel good about being recognized. One of the older men slid his hand underneath his coat, shielding the people behind him. I couldn¡¯t feel that familiar buzz that resonated from other superhumans coming off him. Probably a side arm, maybe a piece of jagged metal. But he didn¡¯t look like a killer, just a protector. Someone frightened that I was suddenly right there with him, willing to do anything to protect his little haggle of friends even if he knew he couldn¡¯t do it.


    That wasn¡¯t the reaction that dad usually got. They clamored around him, pleading for anything, something, maybe for help, sometimes just to be with him for just a few minutes.


    These guys, on the other hand, looked like they wanted to see my head on a spike.


    ¡°Come on,¡± Em said, taking me by the elbow. ¡°Let¡¯s go before we start something.¡±


    My eyebrows scrunched together as we crossed the street, passing a mural of flashy graffiti covering a brick wall. ¡°They looked like I was gonna hurt them. Heck, they¡¯re alive ¡®cause of me.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m sure they¡¯re just so grateful to be eating out of dumpsters because you killed some thug trying to rob someone,¡± Emelia muttered. ¡°Being a superhero is more than just that.¡±


    ¡°You gave it up before you knew what it was all about,¡± I said, following her as we entered an alley between a restaurant being done out of someone¡¯s home and a short apartment building.


    Emelia shrugged as she pulled down a rusted ladder on the side of the building. I flew beside her as she climbed upward. ¡°I didn¡¯t give up anything, Ry. Being a superhero isn¡¯t like I thought it would be when I was a kid, but I know enough that they don¡¯t usually kill people.¡±


    I groaned as she reached the top apartment, the only one with a lock on its window. The building must have been abandoned, judging by its silence. ¡°Don¡¯t start, we were having fun.¡±


    She pushed open the window and ducked inside, gesturing for me to follow. We entered into a living room that was a lot cleaner than I had last seen it, and didn¡¯t reek of mildew like what the apartments below us stank of. It clicked a few minutes ago where she had been taking me, and the nostalgia of being in this place nearly knocked me off my feet. The three of them¡­ Four, I reminded myself, used to use this place as their little hideout back in high school. Punching bags hung from the ceiling in the corner of the room, and lumpy bean bags surrounded an ancient Playstation that was connected to a chunky old television. Posters hung limp off the walls, and a row of lockers stood near the tiny kitchen area, where Em had cracked open two cans of soda from a mini fridge still humming quietly. Huh, I thought. I figured they got rid of this place years ago.


    But it felt lived in, with a singular mug and plate still wet in the sink, and one of the doors down the hallway left slightly open. I continued flying just millimeters off the wooden floor, taking in the newspapers stuck up on one wall, pictures of four very young teenagers in bright costumes saving their high school from some imminent threat of violence. My mouth went a little slack as I stopped in front of the wall, scanning the headlines and articles, the dozens of magazine pieces written about people I considered my friends. Grant was always in the middle of the group, this infectious smile shining, standing right alongside his icy, stone-faced brother. Em was by his side, looking a little starstruck, somehow stuck with a look of camera shyness in whatever situation.


    Then there was the fourth member of their team, a girl with braids and an impish smile. A shine in her eyes as she threw a piece sign in nearly every single picture snapped of the team. Her costume had been gray and white and the accents gold. My mouth drew into a thin line the longer I stared at her, but Selina wouldn¡¯t look anywhere else except directly at me. My skin itched and my gut turned, and I only noticed Emelia standing beside me when she offered me the can of soda.


    ¡°You kept these old things?¡± I whispered, trying and failing to break my staring.


    Em nodded slowly, went to sip her soda but thought otherwise. She held it in between her hands, fingernails tapping against the metal. ¡°I didn¡¯t exactly have anywhere else to put them.¡±


    I gingerly plucked one off the wall, smiling. ¡°Dino-Man. Holy hell, I remember that.¡±


    ¡°How couldn¡¯t you?¡± she asked quietly. ¡°Mr. Roberts turned himself into a lizard and tried eating half the class alive. I always kinda hated the name that Grant gave the media, you know.¡±


    ¡°He never really was that great at naming things, was he?¡±


    ¡°The Fantastic Four was taken, which somehow turned out to be big news to him,¡± she said, shaking her head. ¡°Selina was always a little better. She came up with Atomville before¡­¡±


    I didn¡¯t let the silence linger. ¡°Do you miss it sometimes?¡± I asked. ¡°Being a superhero?¡±


    Emelia sighed through her teeth, turning her back to the wall and settling into the purple bean bag. ¡°It¡¯s not as easy as that. Sure, it was fun sneaking out of class, keeping the secrets, but it got old pretty quickly, and my mom kept herself up at night wondering what I was doing. She sacrificed a lot for me to go to that school, and there was her kid, trying to save the freaking city.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± I said, ¡°at least you got pretty close to saving the city a couple of times.¡±


    She turned her soda, swishing it in her hand, her eyes distant as she stared down the empty, dimly lit hallway before she answered. ¡°It only took my family getting kidnapped to wake me up.¡± This time, the silence remained, growing like some invisible cloud that pushed me a little further away from her, but I couldn¡¯t go backward, because a wall of Selina¡¯s piercing eyes would dig into my back the further I tried to go. ¡°I miss it, yeah, but I don¡¯t miss it. That lifestyle¡­ it takes away a lot, and I guess you know that a lot more than most people. I just couldn¡¯t keep giving it more.¡±


    Because if you keep giving it, it¡¯ll just keep taking, I thought. I drank the cold soda, drying my throat. In this business, you had to give your everything, but that was easier said than done.


    ¡°Do you¡­¡± I sighed, leaving my soda on the table and sitting down on Grant¡¯s red bean bag beside her. ¡°Do you ever wonder what it would have been like if we were just normal?¡±


    Emelia shook her head. ¡°My life¡¯s been crazy since the day mom pushed me out. Normal to me is all of this.¡± She waved her hand around the room, at the old and empty costume racks, at me. ¡°Normal is waking up in the morning and knowing your siblings are safe because you didn¡¯t just piss off a couple dozen supervillains living right down the hallway from your entire family.¡±


    Besides the expensive clothes and perfumes and the flawlessness of her silky movements, it was difficult to remember that she was born and raised in the lower east end. No matter how much makeup the painted on her face, no matter the editing and the lighting they used to make her a lot more appealing, shinier, more tantalizing to whatever investor wanted her, a superhuman who used to save the city between lunch period and her next class, the smog and the dirt and the grit that came with living her still lingered in her. That wouldn¡¯t change, I doubt it would ever change.


    I wondered if a part of her felt guilty for giving up being a superhero. I got that she wanted her family out of danger, and sure, making sure they lived a lot better now with a guaranteed paycheck must¡¯ve felt like winning the lottery, but her siblings still knew her as Elektra. A superhero. Not just on tv, but in real life, fighting crime and taking names and doing the right thing even if life hadn¡¯t dealt her any kind of cards at all to play with. But I guessed that it wasn¡¯t my decision to make, so I leaned back further in the bean bag, looking her over and into her eyes.


    They were the same eyes that saved me before I got my powers. The same eyes that sparkled when she found out my secret. Still Emelia, just a little older, but the light dimmer.


    Maybe I could have done something to help her somehow (not ¡®cause I cared, but because that¡¯s just what superheroes like me did), but I figured that me being a superhero was some kind of release for her. Some way of still living this lifestyle without giving up everything all over again.


    Emelia looked at me, nose wrinkling. ¡°What¡¯s got you looking at me like that?¡±


    I pointed over her shoulder at a newspaper clipping on the wall. ¡°¡®New Kid On The Block¡¯,¡± I read. ¡°My first ever headline. They all thought I was lying about being Zeus¡¯ daughter.¡±


    ¡°I sometimes don¡¯t believe it myself,¡± she said, laughing a little. ¡°I kept it just in case.¡±


    ¡°In case of what?¡±


    Em stood up, stretching her arms over her head. ¡°If you ever wanted to join the team.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I said, watching as she walked down the hallway. ¡°I thought Michael said¡ª¡±


    ¡°He got out-voted three to one,¡± she called from her bedroom. She returned with a towel around her neck and out of her gear, soaps in hand. ¡°Selina was going to ask, but¡­ Well, yeah.¡±


    But a few things happened, and I guess life got a little too busy to ask questions like that.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± she said, kicking my foot. ¡°Enough reminiscing. I¡¯ll be done in a flash, then I¡¯ll be waiting for you to buy me my churros. There¡¯s a spare change of clothes in Selina¡¯s room.¡±


    I shook my head slowly, the thought of even stepping foot in that room painful as I tugged  at the fraying ends of where my costume stopped around the base of my fingers. Old, tired. Burnt and torn. Needed a new suit soon. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. Besides, who wouldn¡¯t give me, of all people, free churros?¡±


    She snorted and headed to the bathroom. ¡°¡®Right, I forgot, because you¡¯re¡ª¡±


    ¡°The greatest superhero ever,¡± I muttered to the silence as she shut the door. A gust of wind lifted a clipping off the wall, but before it could touch the floor, I had it in the palm of my hand.


    I didn¡¯t have the gut to look at her anymore, and I didn¡¯t have the right to be here. I could leave, yes, and a part of me probably felt like I should, but I wasn¡¯t a coward anymore, so I gently pulled down my newspaper clipping and used the fresher tape on it to keep Selina¡¯s mugshot up instead. She was smiling in that, too, even if she had a black eye and a missing canine. I couldn¡¯t help but smile a little as I stepped away from her, feeling her breezy warmth in that carefree, untethered face she made as the cops tried arresting her. Freaking human feelings. I pushed a hand through my hair and left the wall of newspaper clippings, because who liked the news, anyway?


    All it really was, was a reminder that I wasn¡¯t the best to ever do it. Not even close.


    Hell, there was a locked bedroom door down the hallway that was evidence enough.

 Issue #17: The Time I Got Arrested For Being A Superhero

    Being able to fly was convenient for me until my friends remembered I also had super strength, and then I was basically turned into a free-of-charge taxi service at their beck and call. When I was learning how to fly a few years ago, I had to concentrate on doing one or the other, or else I would either fall through the sky and kiss the grassy hills of Kansas (which news reporters at the time thought were being made by giant mole people living in the soil), or wear myself thin trying to keep several pounds of dead human weight in my arms from hitting the ground far, far below us.


    And between you and me, humans were pretty allergic to hitting things very hard.


    Saving people from burning buildings, supervillain attacks, and colossal public Kaiju brawls had made sure I got a lot better at it, but I had a little bit of a hunch that Emelia lied to me when she came out of the shower and told me she was too exhausted to run to 12th Avenue. We argued (because when didn¡¯t we?), but we were already flying over the city, herself cradled in my arms, listening to music, and my back straining as we flew so, so damned slowly through the air. Far too late to keep arguing, and there wasn¡¯t any point, anyway. But it felt like crawling through mud, molasses, and I was losing my mind having to go the freaking speed limit in the open sky.


    Maybe a little slower than the speed limit, because even though Em was a speedster, meaning she was always going to be a little tougher than your average Normal, it didn¡¯t mean I could tear through the sky at hundreds of miles an hour because, well, she was human at the end of the day. I also kinda didn¡¯t want to blow my friend¡¯s eardrums or turn her into bloody paste in my arms if I suddenly had to come to a stop and her bones carved right through her muscle and skin. Thank the Gods, though, because I¡¯d never done it to anyone yet. I had a hunch it would happen, but I wasn¡¯t gonna experiment it, unless a supervillain ever got any ideas about pissing me off.


    Emelia pulled out one earbud. ¡°Could you slow it down? I can¡¯t hear over the wind.¡±


    I grumbled under my breath and slowed. ¡°Is that any better, your highness?¡±


    ¡°A lot, thanks,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s not music, anyway. It¡¯s a news broadcast. I think some guy on socials was freaking out about seeing a Kaiju lurking around the upper west side a minute ago.¡±


    A Kaiju all the way in the upper west? ¡°Did he see what it looked like? Someone new?¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°Nada. Lucy thinks the guy just edited the pictures for clout.¡±


    I could almost feel the handful of minutes being Rylee slipping through my fingers, a lot like laying in bed knowing your alarm was about to go off any second now. I¡¯d keep an eye out, but it was a little hard to spot a Kaiju sometimes because they didn¡¯t always look like animals or monsters, but humans with strange habits, like staring at flies too hard or muttering about the lovely smell of their coffee after they dipped their tongues into it. Some kind of genetic mutation, or something, made a few of them different that way, made it possible for them to hide in plain sight without giving away what they really were inside. I hadn¡¯t read up on them as much as I probably should have, but it made you paranoid, because who was sitting next to you on the bus? Was that really your mom knocking on your door at midnight, or something that just looked a lot like her?


    That thing making sounds in the alley deep at night, squelching and wet, could be nothing, just sounds in your head, but it could also be a starving Kaiju sinking their teeth into fresh prey.


    I shuddered a little, but I knew that wasn¡¯t fair on them. It wasn¡¯t all Kaiju being bad.


    But for whatever reason, it always tended to be the Kaijus killing suburban families.


    Emelia tucked away her earbuds and said, ¡°Churros first, then you¡¯ll deal with them. And speed it up a little, would you, Blondie? They¡¯re half-off for about another few minutes I think.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I should act like a blonde and forget that I¡¯m carrying you,¡± I muttered to myself.


    Slowly, 12th Avenue came into view below us. From up here, it simply looked like a wide stream of people milling around a chubby cherub spewing water from its puckered lips, dining at outdoor cafes and restaurants, and walking toward the shopping center which almost made the avenue a run way directly toward it. It was the upper west side realized in stone and marble, polished glass and shining steel structures (supposedly) strong enough to withstand S Grade supervillain attacks. The rich and famous wouldn¡¯t be found dead here, too many normal people walking around with cameras and phones at the ready, but having deep pockets around these parts helped a ton in making sure you could make it through the valley of hawkers and food stalls.


    Which I didn¡¯t have, but I luckily had a friend who did. Emelia pointed to a small churro stall close to the fountain attached to a row of other similar small food stalls. Chairs were set up in front of the line of stalls, giving people places to sit and eat and talk. Places like this weren¡¯t usually my scene (and totally not because I saw people my age enjoying their summer), but Olympia was a superhero, and around these parts, the word superhero meant movies, tv shows, and some girl who sometimes saved those poor, poor people in Lower Olympus. The skyscrapers were taller here, the people happier, however false their smiles. It felt so damned pointless. And boring. The worst kind of villain I¡¯d probably find around here would be petty purse snatchers.


    But a few coffee-sipping, donut-eating cops were keeping an eye out, whatever that would do to tame the small amount of crime. I guessed it made the Normals around here feel a little safer.


    All it did for me was make me wonder how long the police would let me walk around before trying to get handcuffs on me. The last I heard, there was a warrant out for my arrest. Something to do with killing criminals and international law and blah, blah, blah. I¡¯d be gone before they wiped the crumbs off their mustaches and halfway across the city before they could yell for me to stop, put my hands up, and don¡¯t resist the attempts to put their bracelets on me.


    Being who I am, though, meant showing up un-announced was getting people¡¯s attention. I heard someone say my name, then saw a camera flash in the corner of my eye as I landed in the food court area, a stone-throw away from the fountain. A surge of them came our way, a tide of curious civilians with phones in their hands and questions being flung from their mouths. Too many to pick out, too many questions I wasn¡¯t going to answer, because from what Lucas had taught me, answering the public¡¯s questions opened the door for them to keep asking more.


    And once you opened that door, there was no trying to force it shut.


    ¡°I told you coming in costume was a terrible idea, Ry,¡± Emelia said right in my ear.


    I shrugged, arms up. ¡°Hey, what can I say, they love to see a real life superhero.¡±


    ¡°Oh my God!¡± a troop of girls nearly screamed. They were the closest in the mob to us, all with the kind of faces only money could buy. ¡°Can we get a picture? It¡¯ll be quick. Just one.¡±


    I smiled at Em, then said, ¡°Yeah, of course. But not too many, ¡®cause I¡¯ve got to¡ª¡±


    They forced their way past me and flocked around Emelia, bubbling and excited, throwing so many questions at her that she couldn¡¯t answer a single one without having to answer another. Each was about her clothes, who she was wearing, what she and Grant were doing between season breaks, if there was ever a chance if she was going to get her very own spinoff show some day, and¡­ What the hell? I blinked, a little confused, as the rest of the crowd, mostly people our age, some a little younger, a few a little older, rushed toward her instead, their cameras flashing and their smiles and pointing plenty. I was another person in the crowd who just so happened to be wearing a costume and, oh, right, had golden eyes and golden electricity streaming off my body.


    But nobody cared about that, because they suddenly wanted to know about the next season of Atomville, and if the rumors were true that she and Grant had finally tied the knot last week.


    Am I suddenly see-through? I thought, looking around and getting stumbled into by Normals who would try to push against me but wouldn¡¯t get anywhere. What the hell is going on?


    I hovered a little, making it easier to get through the crowd until I was back beside Em. I cleared my throat loudly, far louder than a human could, and interrupted the girls still begging for a good picture, just like the dozens of other people doing the same thing. ¡°Hey there,¡± I said, and the girls turned to me at once, this venomous look on their faces that yanked me straight back to home room for the past several years. I still felt that crevice open up in my gut, felt that poisonous heat seep through my veins as I met their eyes, except this wasn¡¯t high school anymore, and I was Olympia now, and that¡¯s what I¡¯d remind them of right now. ¡°I¡¯m Olympia, by the way. I save the city sometimes¡±¡ªsilence, their eyebrows pinched¡ª¡°and I¡¯m also Zeus¡¯ daughter, so here I am.¡±


    ¡°We know who you are,¡± a girl with green eyes said. ¡°And who freaking cares?¡±


    ¡°Who cares?¡± I asked, incredulous. ¡°You should care. I save your life everyday!¡±


    Her nose wrinkled. ¡°I live in Kampa Bay, not the lower east. All you do is make traffic.¡±


    One of them waved her phone at me. ¡°Could you take a picture of us? Thanks.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I¡¯m me. I fight supervillains and criminals and¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªand take pictures for people who ask politely?¡± she asked, forcing the phone into my hands with a smile. ¡°Oh, how nice of you! Just make sure you get all of us, and fly, maybe, just so you can get a better view of everyone. Just hit the button right there, and do not break my phone.¡±


    I stared at the phone, at the girl, then at Emelia, who shrugged a little sheepishly. I sighed, lifted the phone, and took a half-hearted picture. I didn¡¯t care to check if it came out correctly, and when I was done, I tossed it back at the girl who handed it to me. Whatever, I thought, flying again and now heading toward the churro stand. She¡¯s just got her head too far up her ass. It didn¡¯t matter to me, because, from what I saw, the churros were half-priced for another ten minutes, and the line had damn-near dissipated when I dropped Emelia off near the fountain. She was fine, anyway. Her media training was kicking in and she was answering questions and signing autographs as if she had been running around Lower Olympus last night getting punched in the face by creeps I¡¯d never even seen before. But¡­ sure, fine. I¡¯d let her have her time in the sun.


    I¡¯d do her a favor and run up as big of a churro bill as I could on her behalf then.


    ¡°Hi!¡± the girl behind the short counter said. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re here for the steak?¡±


    Hilarious. ¡°Could I get as many churros as possible? Like in one massive bag? Thanks.¡±


    ¡°The best I can do is twenty without my boss throwing a fit,¡± she said, shrugging. I waved her onward, and she somehow smiled even brighter. ¡°Great! That¡¯ll be¡­ thirty dollars. Cash or¡ª¡±


    I balked. ¡°Thirty dollars for freaking churros?¡± I asked. ¡°You¡¯ve gotta be kidding me.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°These churros are 100% organically farmed and shipped in.¡±


    ¡°Farmed? Shipped in?¡± I waited for her smile to break so she could fill me in on the joke, but apparently she was being dead serious. ¡°And you¡¯re telling me these are half-priced?¡±


    She nodded, ponytail swaying. ¡°Says right there on the little piece of paper.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t believe my ears, both because Emelia was still being flocked, and two because I was sure this was extortion of some kind. ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± I said, lowering my voice. ¡°But I¡¯m Olympia.¡±


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Good for you!¡± she said cheerfully. ¡°But if you could just pay, that would be really swell.¡±


    I tugged at my thighs. ¡°In case you haven¡¯t noticed, this thing doesn¡¯t have any pockets.¡±


    She sucked air through her teeth. ¡°Then I¡¯m guessing no churros for you, huh?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine, I¡¯ll pay for her.¡±


    I should have smelled that scent minutes ago, that sickly sweet caramel scent that would stick to my clothes every time she had a sleepover, from when the girl with brown hair noticed me from the very edge of the crowd and started trying to make her way toward me. I should have seen her face and studied her eyes, watched the tiny scar on the edge of her upper lip curl as she smiled when she finally stood beside me. My head was suddenly stuffed full of thoughts, thick like wet cotton that shoved every single reasonable thought right up against my pulsating skull. She was taller than I last remembered, or maybe it was because I wasn¡¯t expecting to see her again that altered long-ago silenced memories of her. Her hair had streaks of blonde in it, lost in the thick chocolate brown. Fewer freckles. Brighter eyes. Her knuckles were a little bit more scarred.


    But Bianca still looked exactly like the girl I had last seen when she kissed me at prom.


    Not me, I reminded myself, my tongue fat and useless in my mouth. She kissed Olympia.


    I stood there for a moment, unmoving, the world around me a hazy blur as she smiled at me. My heart was a drum beating against my chest, so loud I was sure she could hear it, too.


    My stomach was a mess. My throat ached as I swallowed very bitter saliva.


    ¡°Great!¡± Churro Girl said, handing her the bag. ¡°Have a lovely day. Come back soon!¡±


    ¡°When I saw you flying through the sky, then landing at the fountain, I couldn¡¯t believe my eyes.¡±


    You and me both, I thought. We had left the churro stand and the now slightly thinner crowd, finding a shaded spot just in front of a blooming flower store. The bright flowers gushed with this overwhelmingly sweet smell, but maybe it was just because my senses were working overtime right now. Most were wet with nectar, saccharine to my sensitive nostrils, but Bianca being here made it even harder to concentrate on what senses should be focusing on what.


    A part of me wanted to leave, fly off right that second and find a crime to stop. It wasn¡¯t running away, because there was always something that needed my attention, and I was sure that Lucas needed my help with something, and wasn¡¯t there some kind of brewing gang war I had to deal with? What was I doing there, standing in front of her, sweating like an idiot, when I could be out there in Lower Olympus getting down and dirty with whoever wanted to fuck with my city.


    But I didn¡¯t move an inch, almost as if she¡¯d struck me with some kind of mind control.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I said, forcing something to come out of my mouth. I cringed, knowing that wasn¡¯t a proper reply, but I could barely muster the will to stop sweating, let alone speak correctly.


    She smiled a little. ¡°And would it also be okay if I asked about¡­ you know?¡±


    I jerked a thumb over my shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ve got this thing I need to do. Crime. Fight crime.¡± Yes, I heard the words coming from my mouth, and hated every syllable of them just as much.


    Her smile weakened, something I felt in my chest. ¡°Oh, right. Sorry. You¡¯ve been really busy lately, anyway, with all those new supervillains. You¡¯re doing a great job, by the way. I love watching you fight. That slam you did on the beach against the villain wearing all that fist tape? Awesome. I tried getting a friend of mine, Katie, to teach me, but she said it¡¯s too hard, but I think she¡¯s just lazy. And this one fight you had with Colossus, when you hit him with that five punch combo, swept his legs out from underneath him and went for the choke until he stopped was¡ª¡±


    ¡°Why are you here?¡± I asked. It was the first thought that came to mind. The first words I could really attach any sense to, because she¡¯d been watching me, cheering me on from home.


    And I hadn¡¯t even had it in me to so much as return her calls or read her messages.


    ¡°I was meeting up with some friends,¡± she said. ¡°But talking to you is nice, too. Churro?¡±


    I didn¡¯t really know what else to say, to do, so I took it and bit into it, and¡­ Heck, that thirty dollar price was starting to make sense as soon as it started melting doughy goodness in my mouth. Bianca watched me chew, and I swallowed a little too hard, damn near making myself choke. I beat my chest a little, cleared my throat. Were there crumbs on my face? On my costume? Shit. I didn¡¯t shower this morning, I left the apartment as soon as Em goaded me into coming out.


    ¡°So,¡± I said, trying to break the silence. ¡°Any new supervillains at your school?¡±


    ¡°I graduated about a month ago,¡± she said, which I knew. ¡°Nothing so far. But I¡¯ll probably see at least a few things when I go to university soon. I¡¯m your eyes and ears down here, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Totally.¡± What should I say? Should I talk about what happened? No, that¡¯s stupid, not out in public where someone might be eavesdropping. Just get out of here. ¡°Listen, I¡ª¡±


    Footsteps rapidly approached me from behind, shoes slapping against concrete. Bianca¡¯s eyes widened and I turned around, bracing myself just as a cup of coffee was thrown right at me. It caught me off guard, because the only things usually getting thrown at me were chunks of pavement or human beings, and the coffee wasn¡¯t even that hot either. But the splash was sudden, the bitter smell running down my throat and oozed into the folds of my costume as the wild-eyed woman standing in front of me started yelling and spitting names at me as her lukewarm coffee began soaking into my hair. She barked very pleasant things at me over and over again for everyone to hear like, murderer, killer, superhuman scum. Names I¡¯d only heard on tv before.


    I didn¡¯t really know what to do as she yelled at me, far enough away so she could hurl her spit at me, too, and now the crowd was watching me. Some of them stood, clutching cups. Others backed away a little, seeing the electricity jumping between my fingers. But most were just humans, regular, plain-as-bread humans who were starting to feed off the woman¡¯s energy and her chanting. Heck, a few joined in, shouting from afar. It got louder. More sporadic. More bitter.


    Then someone threw a cup of coffee too close to Bianca for my liking. I swiped it out of the air, and this time the coffee was steaming hot. Nothing to my skin. Everything to the woman in front of me that it landed on. She stared at me, her rant paused, her face beat, puffy and red, and then came the rest of them, throwing food at me that splattered onto my costume and into my hair and painted my face with grease and ketchup and choking powdered sugar. I stepped backward, swiping them out of the air as much as I could, but Gods above, they just kept coming. Their sound was one loud screaming mess of swear words and threats, but nobody got any closer than throwing distance. I shielded Bianca as much as I could, arms spread, but I was starting to get pissed off, especially when the first woman elbowed her way forward and spat right on my face.


    If I was any worse of a person, (which I wasn¡¯t,) I would have stuck my fist through her.


    ¡°Enough!¡± I snapped, voice echoing. They flinched, stepping back. The police started making their way toward me. I breathed in and out, calming myself. ¡°Let¡¯s chill out, alright?¡±


    ¡°You killed people last night and yet you stand here like nothing happened!¡± the woman yelled. ¡°You killed normal people, people who could have had families and friends and dreams!¡±


    I nearly rolled my eyes at what she¡¯d said, because I¡¯d heard it all before, but I couldn''t miss how she mentioned they were ¡®normal people.¡¯ I narrowed my eyes, looked at the rest of the angry faces surrounding us. Bianca was my main concern, because if they hurt her, then maybe being a supervillain in my books didn¡¯t really mean having an evil lair or the ability to come back from the dead. Sometimes it was just a group of jerks who thought they could out-muscle me, and so help me Zeus if so much as one hair went out of place, I¡¯d show them why the government hadn¡¯t bothered coming after me yet. I was forced to eye several people nearing toward her, spitting names at her like ¡®traitor¡¯. Bianca, bless her, kept quiet about what she really was.


    ¡°If you¡¯re talking about the goons from last night, then who cares? They were criminals.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s right!¡± someone added. ¡°You only attacked her because she¡¯s a superhuman.¡±


    ¡°Divergent Persons, not ¡®superhuman¡¯,¡± a girl argued. ¡°But murder is fucking murder.¡±


    ¡°Oh, is that right?¡± I said. ¡°So who cares if someone got killed by those goons last night? Or what if one of their cars slammed into a pedestrian. Oh, wait! They did kill someone last night.¡±


    ¡°See, if there were more superhumans around, then that wouldn¡¯t have happened.¡±


    ¡°Yeah! More superheroes in the sky, like the good old days. When this country was great.¡±


    ¡°Does a fatality rate of 67% of crime and Divergent Persons interference sound great to you?¡± another guy argued. ¡°It sure as hell doesn¡¯t sound like a good thing for us humans.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re humans just as much as you are,¡± a young-ish girl said near the front. The leading woman¡¯s face soured, stepped away from her, just like a few others in the crowd did, as if she had the plague. The girl shrank a little, more scared, but kept that brave face on as she stared her down.


    ¡°The day that any of the likes of you are human is the day Zeus comes back from the grave,¡± the woman said bitterly. ¡°And thank the heavens he¡¯s not as almighty as you think he is.¡±


    ¡°Keep talking to her like that and I¡¯ll¡ª¡±


    ¡°See?¡± the woman said, pointing at me. ¡°It¡¯s not just criminals. It¡¯s normal people, too.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t gonna hurt you,¡± I said, even though I really wanted to. ¡°Because I don¡¯t hurt people who don¡¯t deserve it. I¡¯m just saying that you should stop because I¡¯m sure this is some kind of hate crime the way you¡¯re talking to us¡±¡ªI used ¡®us¡¯ very loosely¡ª¡°so keep quiet.¡±


    ¡°Not a hate crime if you¡¯re just pointing out the truth of what everyone knows you all are.¡±


    Bianca¡¯s fingers grazed my elbow, stopping me from saying something that would have put me in very hot water, like how useless they were. ¡°Hey, I think the cops are gonna be here soon.¡±


    ¡°One sec,¡± I said over my shoulder. I couldn¡¯t win this fight with my fists, but I also wasn¡¯t going to let them throw food at me then shout at me and get away with it. ¡°I saved you last night.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a serial killer,¡± a guy in a suit spat. ¡°Not a superhero. Not like your father was.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck did you just call me?¡±


    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± an officer said, having to force his way through the crowd. ¡°Let¡¯s all take a deep breath and stop shouting at each other for a second.¡± He looked at me, at the coffee, juice and tea dripping off me, then turned to his partner. ¡°Get some cuffs on her and get her out of here.¡±


    ¡°Hold on a minute,¡± I said, hovering away. ¡°You¡¯re gonna arrest me? What did I even do?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± the voice from before said. ¡°These damned cops just want to arrest one of our own. She¡¯s Olympia, genius, she¡¯s not gonna let you lay a finger on her, let alone arrest her.¡±


    ¡°She should be arrested,¡± the leading woman said. ¡°She¡¯s a killer. A supervillain.¡±


    You are very, very lucky that you¡¯re just a civilian, lady.


    Bianca¡¯s fingers wrapped around my wrist, sending a jolt of electricity up my arm. ¡°I know a way out of here,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Or, you know, you could just pick me up and take us away.¡±


    My heart leaped into my throat at that thought, but not now. Later. Another time. ¡°Look,¡± I said to the pair of officers, one short, the other tall, both with heavy mustaches. ¡°Let me go, and¡ª¡±


    One of them got a little closer, whispering, ¡°Look, kid. You know I can¡¯t do that. I¡¯d get my ear bitten off if I let you go. Probably lose my job. Just put on the cuffs, for my sake at least.¡±


    ¡°And for them, too,¡± the shorter one said. ¡°It¡¯ll be a riot soon, and nobody wants that.¡±


    I looked at the other cop, at the handcuffs he unclipped from his belt. The crowd was watching us now, staring at me because they knew what I was going to do from here on out would probably make some kind of difference to them. Right now, though, was the worst time to remember that I had a responsibility or whatever to the rest of the superhumans (or Divergent Persons? I didn¡¯t really know until now about a politically correct term) around the world. Phones were out, pointing at me, and that would mean it would be all over social media in the next few minutes, around the globe and out of every news reporter and analyst¡¯s mouths the next hour.


    I tried to think about a time when dad was arrested, or when they had thrown the law at him or any of the Olympians for that matter, but I couldn''t come up with anything. I was the last of a generation that wasn¡¯t here anymore, a long ago dead generation, and that made me prime time to these people. Freaking box office. Gods, this was a lot more annoying than I first thought. I could fly off right now, Bianca in my arms because I knew these little animals¡­ people, I meant, would rip her to shreds for being seen with me, so being high above the city, tight against my chest (just so she doesn''t fall, nothing else) would be great, wouldn''t it? Sightseeing with her, skimming the ocean, grabbing a bite as we sat on the edge of a building, then dropping her off at home like I did at prom. It was the easy way out.


    But it would also mean having to look her in the eyes and explain myself. Tell her why both of us¡ªboth of me¡ªhad been ghosting her, not really paying attention to her anymore.


    And that was a box of worms that neither Rylee nor Olympia was strong enough to open.


    So fuck it. I¡¯d deal with the blow back from the humans some other day. Maybe when I had the time to figure out why they were so stubborn, so insistent on me not killing the bad ones lurking around the good ones. For now, though, it would be easier to get this over with and go with the cops.


    Plus Bianca was watching me, I could feel her eyes gazing at me from just over my shoulder. I had to be at least some kind of example, right?


    I sighed, getting the annoyance out, and stuck my arms out toward the cops.

 Issue #18: The Girl In Gold And The Boys In Blue

    The last time I had been inside a police car was in eleventh grade when Emelia and I had gotten caught trying to steal a six-pack of beer to get into a houseparty. It was stupid, I know, but things were so much more simpler back then, when all that mattered was parties or who you hung out with and, to be fair, I really needed the social credit. Being a superhero in high school was just like the comics¡ªno time for your friends or your grades and, in my case, the track and field team. People got angry at you, yelled at you and started fights in the hallways or in the cafeteria, and truth be told, I would usually start fighting back. At some points I didn¡¯t even really have friends.


    I hated disappointing people, however much I did it these days, but I figured that stealing alcohol for a bunch of highschool royalty would buy me back into their good graces. I wanted to get high fives again after winning events. I wanted people to say things about me and not just Olympia all the time. But the track team lost the state champs without me that year because they were too weak in the final few legs, even though I was just junior varsity. Was I cheating in sports? The answer to that is simple: it wasn¡¯t cheating if the competition ¡®totally¡¯ didn¡¯t have a speedster pretending to be a normal person on their team. Schools bought false documents all the time.


    But when the two of us got caught, it was me who got put in the back of the cop car, because surprise, it was Lucas who found me trying to break into a tiny convenience store.


    ¡°Just to make some pricks happy,¡± he¡¯d muttered. ¡°Come on, kid. That¡¯s all? Really?¡±


    It didn¡¯t take much to hear the disappointment in his voice. Lucas was always angry about something, annoyed at someone, pissed that something hadn¡¯t gone his way, but that night had been different. He¡¯d just sounded tired, like he was wasting his time keeping up with some kid who could be stopping crime, saving cats from trees, or helping old ladies cross the street. I had shoved Emelia into a bush beside the store, hiding her, but Lucas probably knew that someone else was there with me. We were kids trying to hide from a retired superhero. Very stupid kids wanting to please people who already didn¡¯t like us. Lucas had to drive me home. Ronnie wasn¡¯t there, so we sat on the porch, silent, until he lit a cigarette and pulled on it until it fizzled out quietly.


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna make a lot of people angry being who you are,¡± he¡¯d said, blowing smoke, so acrid I could still smell it right now. ¡°Both you and¡­ the other you. You can¡¯t please everyone.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± I had argued, because that was easier than listening. ¡°I can still try.¡±


    ¡°And you should,¡± he had said. ¡°But not if you¡¯re ruining yourself in the process.¡±


    At the time, I didn¡¯t know just a few months later I¡¯d be in the Alps with blood on my hands for that very same reason, trying to please everyone, more than everyone. Doing more than I thought I could but wasn¡¯t anywhere near where I had to be in my life for that to be possible.


    It was still a habit I was trying to break, but that just meant neglecting one aspect of myself.


    Otherwise, I guessed it made sense that I wasn¡¯t too pleased to be sitting in the back of a police car again with people either cheering that I was finally being arrested, or shouting threats and swear words at both the police and myself for being a coward. For not standing up for myself. You¡¯re a superhuman, I heard. Freaking act like it. As if that meant I should just rip my way out of the car and fight off the herd of humans banging their palms against the car as the police drove onto the street and away from 12th Avenue. I could, sure, but even I knew how stupid of an idea that would be in plain sight of all the cameras. Whatever. It was pretty cool back here, anyway.


    I wasn¡¯t the kind of superhero that put villains inside of police cars, so getting a closer look at one than any of the people I¡¯d ever gone up against had to be at least a little ironic at some point.


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing you guys are gonna get super popular from now on, huh?¡± I asked, leaning forward and against the bullet proof glass partition. ¡°Like mini celebrities around the precinct.¡±


    Neither said anything. The shorter man drove. The taller man scratched his chin.


    ¡°Not big fans of small talk,¡± I muttered, leaning back. ¡°At least play some music.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a lot younger looking in person,¡± the shorter man said. ¡°High school, has to be.¡±


    The taller man looked into the rearview mirror, saw me wave at him with my handcuffs still on, and shook his head. ¡°Nah. I¡¯d say early twenties. Look at her arms. No kid¡¯s got that muscle.¡±


    ¡°I heard that she grows,¡± his buddy replied. ¡°Swells up when she¡¯s using her powers.¡±


    He wasn¡¯t wrong, but I wasn¡¯t going to agree. ¡°I thought you guys would be a lot more¡­ I don¡¯t know, scared? Angry? Telling me that anything I say can and will be used against me?¡±


    It took a few minutes for either of them to respond, and by that time, we had lost the small gaggle of cars that had been trying to follow us. We were in downtown New Olympus now, not quite Lower Olympus, but the long stretch closer to the mouth of the river that split the city. I could see the beach out of the window, the lapping waves and a few slightly rundown shopping centers. The streets were emptier here, with everyone either at work or in their homes, trying to avoid the growing heat of the day. He parked his car slightly on the curb, turning it off and leaving us in silence. I figured they were waiting to see what I¡¯d do, to see if I would finally run away.


    Instead, the taller man grunted and got out, then opened the door for me. He waited, and I obliged, because sitting in a puddle of coffee and tea and sticky juice wasn¡¯t fun in a warm car.


    He shut the door and hooked his thumbs on his belt. Closer to him now, I saw his bushy eyebrows and untrimmed nose. His pinky was painted pink, with bits of glitter shining in it. He was burly, well-rounded, compared to the smaller man, who looked a lot more athletic as he leaned against the trunk of the car to my left. The shorter man¡ªJohnson, said the tag on his shirt pocket¡ªlooked around at the empty streets and the boarded up windows. I looked around, too, getting a little bit more tense, because even my ears weren¡¯t picking anything up. Was this some kind of ambush? No, the cops weren¡¯t that well-funded for that. A trap, maybe a waiting attack?


    ¡°We know you can take those off if you want,¡± Johnson said, nodding. ¡°Yep, we¡¯ve seen you carry buildings and cars, and these little things are probably like bracelets to your kind.¡±


    ¡°John,¡± Harvey¡ªthe taller man¡ªsaid. ¡°Her kind, really? She¡¯s just like me ¡®n¡¯ you.¡±


    ¡°Except she can fly,¡± he muttered. ¡°Wish I could fly, too. Beat the traffic a lot faster.¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯d you bring me here?¡± I said. ¡°¡®Cause I hate surprises, you know.¡±


    Johnson waved his hand at his partner. ¡°It was all his idea, you ask him.¡±


    Harvey cleared his throat, looked me dead in the eyes, and said, ¡°Thank you.¡±


    I waited for him to continue, but that¡¯s all that came out of his mouth. I looked over my shoulder at his partner, trying to get myself out of having to look a grown man in the eyes.


    ¡°He¡¯s not much of a talker,¡± Johnson said. ¡°Strong and silent. Thank God not anywhere near retirement, though. He means thanks for saving his bacon last night against those villains.¡±


    Oh, so that¡¯s why he¡¯s thanking me. It was a new experience for me. I never really got thanked for anything I did as Olympia, so¡­ ¡°You¡¯re welcome? I don¡¯t really know what to say.¡±


    Harvey grunted again, which I was beginning to understand was his main way of communicating. ¡°That¡¯s really all I wanted to say to you, so there it is, and I hope you know that you are doing a very good service for the people of New Olympus despite some of your choices.¡±


    I leaned against the cop car. ¡°Guessing you mean the murder part of those choices.¡±


    Johnson sniffed, then popped a piece of gum into his mouth. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a pretty nasty part of your choices, but¡­ Hell, it means that grunts like us are a lot safer because of those choices.¡±


    ¡°Hey, c¡¯mon. You guys are important. The Normals like you a lot more than they do me.¡±


    ¡°Only because we look like them,¡± Johnson said. ¡°See, you weren¡¯t active from before Damage Control and the SDU were around, you know. It was like the wild west. You get a call in the middle of the night because some freak¡ªno offense¡ªwas tearing up Lower Olympus. Now you¡¯ve gotta kiss the missus and hug your kid not knowing if you¡¯ll be back in the next hour.¡±


    Harvey nodded. ¡°Guys like me and John are the lucky ones. So again, thank you.¡±


    I noticed that now, seeing the look in their eyes. They weren¡¯t scared to be around me, like a few of them have been in the past. Their faces were a little sunken, eyes a little dull. They were casual with me because they had probably seen more than enough of their friends get ripped apart by one of my kind. I didn¡¯t discriminate when it came to supervillains. Superhuman or Normal, I¡¯d be putting my fist so far down their throat I could pull their guts right out of their mouths. But imagining being human, armed with only a pistol and some body armor, facing down some guy probably covered in what was left of your partner would stick with you, scar you for a long time.


    And judging by the scars that littered Harvey¡¯s right arm, a spiderweb of pale white tissue, it was enough of a story, right along with Johnson¡¯s slightly dull right eyeball and the pulled skin around it. In the blazing sunlight above, he looked kinda like a two-faced ghoul that smiled.


    Johnson offered me a piece of gum. I took it with my teeth, thanking him.


    ¡°So,¡± I said, chewing. ¡°Both of you were working last night when the call came?¡±


    Harvey nodded, then grunted again. ¡°Called in for a big transfer at the Belcrest Bank. Knew it was gonna be bad, not that bad though. I was in the first car you caught in the air.¡±


    I would like to say I remembered him, but a girl had been going through a lot recently.


    But that also meant Ava had someone working there, either that or she had really good connections to find out when the best possible time to steal a truck full of gold would be. Her shadow was my guess, something¡ªor someone¡ªI hadn¡¯t seen yet. For all I knew they were probably watching us right now, skulking through an alley or bounding from the rooftops. I kept my senses on high alert, my powers still active enough to burn the juices and coffee out of my hair without hurting either of the cops. I¡¯d find whoever was watching me one day, I swore it.


    For now, though, I guess I was doing a public service talking to the boys in blue. They knew stuff that I didn¡¯t, stuff that I had to learn somehow since Lucas was too busy to tell me.


    ¡°Lucky for me, I was on leave,¡± Johnson said. ¡°One day into it and suddenly I¡¯m watching my partner flying through the air. Fuck, when I tell you, kid, that my heart was in my ass¡­¡±


    Harvey shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m fine thanks to you. My wife says thanks, too, even if she¡¯s not your biggest fan. I wasn¡¯t either, but I know when to stuff it and shake a hand or two from time to time.¡±


    ¡°I always figured that you guys hated me,¡± I said. ¡°I mean, you all looked kinda pissed off when I stopped you from chasing the villains in the truck. Oh, right, and sorry about the police cars I punched out. It was for your own safety because Mayor Blackwood is always on my ass about letting you guys work and leaving you alone and asking why you haven¡¯t caught me yet.¡±


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Johnson jerked his chin at my wrists. ¡°Looks like we got you, but really, who cares?¡±


    ¡°Everyone on 12th Avenue, seemingly.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure, but those guys don¡¯t have to get called up to deal with a superhuman that we shouldn¡¯t be dealing with,¡± Johnson said. ¡°They call us to their suburbs ¡®cause they think they saw someone flying or turning into a shadow or jumping over their house like some freaking toad.¡±


    Harvey nodded. ¡°Always the toads. Kaiju sightings are the most frequent for them.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± I said. ¡°Because it doesn¡¯t sound as bad as profiling a superhuman?¡±


    Johnson laughed, a deep sound that came from the throat. ¡°Ah, hell, I didn¡¯t want to be the one who said it but you¡¯re right on the money with that, Goldie. ¡®Kay if I call you that, Goldie?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Honestly, you two are the only cops who¡¯ve ever wanted to talk to me, so I don¡¯t really mind. You saw what happens when I try to talk things out with people, anyway.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not allowed to speak to you,¡± Harvey added, putting on sunglasses as a kid cycled past us, staring at me with such wide eyes I was sure he was going to fall. ¡°It''s a precinct code.¡±


    And suddenly that makes a lot more sense for why they avoid me.


    ¡°So what happens now since people saw you take me away?¡± I asked. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you bring me to the station, put me in a holding cell. Someone calls the mayor and you two get a medal and some cash and I eventually break out? ¡®Cause there¡¯s no way in hell I¡¯m going to court. It looks so freaking boring, plus I haven¡¯t even done anything wrong! I¡¯m just saving people.¡±


    ¡°Well¡ª¡± Johnson¡¯s radio squealed, and a voice came through, asking them both where they were and why their police tracker was off. Neither responded, turning the volume down. ¡°Anyway, it looks like we¡¯re landing ourselves in hot water the longer we chat with you. But to answer your question: nah, kid, we¡¯re not going to do any of that. We aren¡¯t in it for the fame if that¡¯s what you¡¯re wondering about. Some people, sure, but you¡¯re not our concern, not at all.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a bounty on you,¡± Harvey said casually, as if this wasn¡¯t news to me. ¡°A few of the guys and girls want to see if they¡¯ll be the one to catch you. Rumor has it there¡¯s money.¡±


    ¡°Big money, too,¡± Johnson added. ¡°But they talk big, bark loudly, but don¡¯t even try.¡±


    ¡°Not us,¡± said Harvey. ¡°If we wanted the paycheck we¡¯d go into private security.¡±


    Johnson punched my arm, then winced and shook out his hand. ¡°It¡¯s not so much of a secret that the police chief doesn¡¯t actually mind having you around. He¡¯s from our generation, the grizzled bastard. He keeps telling the younger guns to stop talking about you because they never actually try to do anything about you. So trust me, most of us are all bark and no bite. No sir.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s kinda weird hearing it come from the ground,¡± I said, back against the car now, turning my wrists so the metal could stop biting into my skin. ¡°Mayor Blackwood and her daughter seemingly want more of you guys to deal with superhumans. Less supers and more humans on the streets and whatever Paul Macery is always arguing about. I swear, I could save the world five times over and the three of them would still have some kind of bone to pick with me regardless.¡±


    But learning that the police didn¡¯t entirely hate me, at least a segment of it, was reassuring. It was no wonder that they didn¡¯t actively try and hunt me down after everything I¡¯d been doing; they were too busy dealing with other human crimes rather than the superhuman on their side.


    Johnson snorted. ¡°I can¡¯t really talk smack about my boss¡¯ boss, but in all honesty, I do not want to deal with superhumans. Some of ¡®em can push my skull out of my ass, and you think I want to do that because, what, some rich ladies want more humans in the limelight just because?¡±


    ¡°They want to make it political,¡± Harvery said. We both looked at him, waiting. He scratched his chin and hooked his hands back onto his belt. ¡°The Olympiad is the government¡¯s, not the Blackwood¡¯s. Those two own Blackwood Pharma and Damage Control, so most of New Olympus if you think about it, and if they¡¯re lucky, they¡¯ll probably want to try and buy Belcrest Bank from Rick Goldstein by forcing themselves into his sector by making sure they need more of their services to protect more of their stock, enter Damage Control. The board wants to protect their stock. The police can¡¯t really do that. The SDU works for the government, and they would rather keep their dealings off of the government¡¯s hands so they can keep a bigger slice of the pie. Hire Damage Control, a private firm, and now you¡¯ve got a doorway into more say in the company.¡±


    And if, for example, they were at the bank last night, then the villains wouldn¡¯t have gotten away, I thought. We stared at him, silent. Harvey nodded, then grunted again. He didn¡¯t seem like the type to go over the news that frequently, or do his own digging, but hell, that¡¯s the most sense I¡¯d heard come out of anyone¡¯s mouth in years. I strayed from politics because it didn¡¯t make much sense to me, and I usually liked my problems to be punchable, but this had to be valuable to me.


    ¡°Well, don¡¯t leave her hanging,¡± Johnson said. ¡°She¡¯s the superhero. She needs this.¡±


    Harvey continued with, you guessed it, another grunt, though it was a little more enthusiastic this time. ¡°Those two only want more humans dealing with more superhuman problems because the government is on the opposite side. Military contracts for superhumans are a no-go because of Cleopatra and her army and what happened in Saudi, too much destruction, not listening to anything the human generals had to say because an army of superhumans wouldn¡¯t bother doing that, so Mary and Cassie fear monger. Make you all look like animals. They use you because you¡¯re the biggest example. They want power and control. Divide and conquer, is my guess. What you do is important to everyone, especially the government with elections soon.¡±


    ¡°But why would they do that?¡± I asked. ¡°The world is already pretty screwed right now.¡±


    Harvey shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know, can¡¯t read their minds. Maybe they just want more power. More money. We were briefed this morning that Damage Control is gonna start taking up watch through more boroughs. Nothing on what¡¯s going to happen to the boroughs in Lower Olympus.¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯s just going to get more annoying in the city for me soon,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°And the more you keep doing what you¡¯re doing, the harder it becomes for the rest of you,¡± Johnson added quietly. ¡°You¡¯re not the exception you think you are, kid. You¡¯re the rule.¡±


    ¡°The benchmark,¡± Harvey said. ¡°The reason people are getting so divided right now; they want an angle they understand, a reality, and you¡¯re giving them everything they need for that.¡±


    ¡°To make it simple,¡± Johnson said, ¡°You¡¯re the one they¡¯ll point at as the face of Supers.¡±


    It took a moment for that to sink in. For the gravity of what I was hearing to sink in past the blur of information filling my head. My mouth was dry as I spoke, my tongue curled. ¡°Fuck,¡± I muttered. ¡°You know, I had a friend who told me that I had a responsibility, but not that much.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a reason Paul and Lucy have entire segments about you. There¡¯s a reason Mayor Blackwood has to answer dozens of questions about you. Heck, even the president has to stop the reporters from asking what he¡¯s going to do with you, because what he does to you is what people, normal people¡ªthe humans, no offense again¡ªwill want done to other superhumans. The Olympians got off clean because there were too many superheroes to stop. Now there¡¯s really only a handful that nobody pays much attention to, and then there¡¯s you: Zeus¡¯ freaking daughter.¡±


    ¡°I think,¡± Harvey said, ¡°That you¡¯re too much of a focal point for him to criticize or stop. My guess is that he¡¯ll use you before trying to get rid of you, but that¡¯ll only come around election time.¡± He peered at me from behind his sunglasses, cocked his head. ¡°Legal voting age yet?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Maybe, but I don¡¯t really know who I¡¯m supposed to be rooting for.¡±


    Johnson patted my shoulder. ¡°Neither do we, Goldie. Neither do we.¡±


    ¡°But if there¡¯s ever been a more important vote, it¡¯ll be yours,¡± Harvey said. ¡°You¡¯ll swing the ballot, judging by how the media takes it. Not every superhuman will follow you, but many will. Your best option? President Raymond gets another term in office. Better for your kind. More possibilities for superheroes if you want that, but it¡¯ll be one hell of a mess getting that through congress. Slim chance. But not impossible, especially if you start getting more important. Save the city. Maybe the world if it comes down to it. They¡¯ll fight, sure, but voting now is about the ¡®pull.¡¯ Who does the young crowd go with, who influences them to do that? They¡¯re more emotional and want something for the future. Older guys like me ¡®n¡¯ John want the status quo to stay as it is. But you can¡¯t deny someone who stopped the world from coming to an end, no chance of that at all.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re saying I should be so much of a superhero I swing a freaking election?¡±


    Harvey nodded. ¡°If you want to put it like that, sure.¡±


    Silence stretched between us as John and I stared at Harv. Birds flapped far above, and a black cat scampered across the hot pavement, chasing after a tiny rodent. He grunted again.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were into all of that mumbo-jumbo, Harv,¡± Johnson said.


    He shrugged. ¡°My son¡¯s a political analyst. I like listening to him talk. I try to learn what I can so I can talk to him more. I¡¯m just lucky I can tell someone who can do something about it.¡±


    I didn¡¯t even really know what I could do about any of that. I didn¡¯t know what their end goal was by trying to split superhumans and humans apart, because my problems were here on the streets that nobody except me was cleaning up. Influencing an election wasn¡¯t on my to-do list either, and that kind of weight swam around my stomach, making me feel a little queasy. I didn¡¯t become a superhero for that reason, but if Harv was right, then it was slowly going to become a part of it. A very complicated part that was just going to get added to the stew of my already brewing life at the moment. Gods, things were getting a little harder, a lot more complex. Didn¡¯t really know if I was smart enough to figure it all out, but somebody was going to have to do it.


    And sadly for everyone in the city, that responsibility is on an eighteen year old¡¯s shoulders.


    A part of me wished I could pull a Superman and spin the world around until I was back in middle school so I could tell myself to enjoy eating mom¡¯s pizza rolls and watching cartoons more.


    I massaged my head, nodding. Alright. No clue where to start, so I¡¯d deal with that later.


    ¡°You probably just saved thousands of lives. I don¡¯t have a clue of what I¡¯m gonna do about the Blackwoods, or an entire goddamned election, but I¡¯ve got a friend in the SDU who¡¯ll probably have a good idea. But I¡¯ve got a lot on my plate right now. A lot that you guys might be able to help with if you want. It¡¯s about Lower Olympus. About the gangs fighting down there.¡±


    Johnson put up his hands in a mock surrender. ¡°Not our department, Goldie. They¡¯ve got me and Harv watching over the rich folk now because we know a lot more than they like and probably don¡¯t want us spreading it. All I know is what you probably watch on tv every morning.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Harvey said, looking at his partner. A silent conversation happened between them, with me seemingly forgotten in the middle. They came to some conclusion, and Harvey was the one to look a little more antsy this time. ¡°There¡¯s a guy who used to be on the force last year.¡±


    ¡°Oh, brother,¡± Johnson muttered, rubbing his eyes. ¡°There¡¯s a reason he¡¯s not on it.¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯s he not on it anymore?¡± I asked. ¡°And what does he have to do with L.O.?¡±


    ¡°Honestly, it¡¯s a miracle that he was let onto it in the first place,¡± he said. ¡°But I guess when your daddy¡¯s the police chief, you can do whatever you want. But some lines don¡¯t get crossed.¡±


    ¡°Ryan Kennedy,¡± Harvey said. ¡°Private investigator in Lower Olympus now. Works somewhere out of a hole in the wall. Back alley bars, that kind of thing. Patriot Street. Know it?¡±


    Know it? I practically live right there down the boardwalk. ¡°I know it¡¯s cliche, but you guys are freaking superheroes. I needed at least some kind of lead. Someone I knew how to get.¡±


    Johnson laughed, pushing off the police car. His radio had been squeaking for the past five minutes, and it wouldn¡¯t be long until the distant sirens would bring police cars with them. ¡°When you meet him, I doubt you¡¯re gonna think we¡¯re superheroes. We just do this because we¡¯re old and don¡¯t really have anything else we¡¯re good at. But if it means helping you, Goldie, then it also means I get to see my little girls every night. You save our bacon a lot more than you know.¡±


    Harvey nodded, rounding the police car. ¡°Whatever they say, you¡¯re the only superhero we¡¯ve got left in this city. I¡¯ll only ask you if you could stop all the killing. I can¡¯t show my daughter any videos of you being a hero if you¡¯re covered in what used to be a supervillain.¡±


    Johnson opened the side door. ¡°And if I help you, it means my kid thinks I¡¯m a hero, too. So yeah, maybe just tone down the murder a little, or do it not so publicly, then we¡¯ll be talking.¡±


    I smiled, teeth showing because how couldn¡¯t I not? I barely ever heard someone say I was doing a good job, so it felt, well, good. Warm. Like I finally knew this was the right direction.


    ¡°Pretty lucky I got to meet up with you guys,¡± I said, snapping the handcuffs.


    ¡°We were meaning to talk to you, anyway,¡± Johnson said. ¡°We would have even gone on the internet and, I don¡¯t know¡ªour kids would have contacted you somehow with their tech.¡±


    I guessed their tech meant social media, which only made me smile a little more.


    Harvey started the car, but I flew over to his window, because I had to figure out at least one more thing. ¡°The pink glitter fingernail polish,¡± I asked him. ¡°What¡¯s all that about?¡±


    He looked at it, then into the rearview mirror as the sound of squealing tires got closer. ¡°I had to go to hospital for a general check up after you saved me. It was the first thing my daughter did when I got home. She gets sad and does stuff like this. I didn¡¯t have the time to wash it off.¡±


    Johnson smiled at me, and I figured that he wouldn¡¯t wash it off regardless.


    ¡°It¡¯s a little reminder,¡± he told me. ¡°You should get one too from your family.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got this,¡± I said, tapping my chest, the lightning bolt going down my torso.


    Harvey grunted. ¡°That was your dad¡¯s. Get something of your own that reminds you why you work as much as you do. It makes the harder times easier when you¡¯ve got your own instead.¡±


    I would have stuck around a little longer, maybe spoken to them more, but the cars were getting nearer, the sound of their sirens louder. I asked for some way to contact them, because having at least two people in the police force who could keep me updated on their side of things would be a massive help. All I got from Johnson was his wife¡¯s business card, because it was technically illegal for them to give out their personal numbers to me specifically. Besides, it didn¡¯t really matter, because I was far above the street by the time the other police arrived at their car.


    A police car that looked a little roughed up, with its door torn open and a hole punched through the roof. Someone had to make it look like the superhuman was being a superhuman.


    Even though that superhuman finally had a way to start saving Lower Olympus.

 Issue #19: Party Crashers

    By the time I made my way back to 12th Avenue (as Rylee, now, despite the crippling taxi prices), most of the crowd had dispersed and gone back to the little restaurants scattered around the fountain. Bloggers were talking into their phones, excitedly explaining what just happened to their legions of imaginary audiences. I walked past them, hands in my pockets, trying to stay clear of the weirdos asking people questions about what would happen to Olympia and what they thought about her. Inevitably, arguments broke out between people who seemingly had enough time in their day to drop everything and fight with strangers. The avenue had been buzzing before I arrived. It was bubbling now. More people. More cameras. More superhuman chatter in the air.


    A few tourists were shielding their eyes from the sun as they searched the bright blue sky above us. A young couple even asked me if I could take a picture of them pointing upward, grinning as they did. I didn¡¯t mind, because at least I wasn¡¯t getting insulted this time around.


    It was always a little fun blending back in with the humans, because at the end of the day, I looked just like them. Just another blonde teenager out in a richer part of the city probably far away from home. I tried to clean up a little, even showered quickly before putting on a clean pair of jeans and sneakers and a varsity jacket I used to wear in high school. I even spotted the lady who threw her coffee at me, but she was surrounded by reporters, getting in her five minutes of fame, and way too busy to notice anyone that wasn¡¯t either a reporter or an influencer with a phone in her face. She barely spared me a glance as she started stuttering over herself as she explained her brave exploits against Olympia herself. She had a smile on her face, wide and proud, almost arrogant.


    Whatever, I didn¡¯t really care. The news of me escaping from the police would get to her again, and then it would be back to the same old arguments about what the government should do to stop me. But judging from what I¡¯d just learnt, I figured they wouldn¡¯t do much to me at all.


    But it was a reminder that I didn¡¯t have time to waste being here. Ryan Kennedy¡ªa new name to get a face pinned to. Lucas first, because I had to run him down what had happened last night. Juliana Cortez after that and figure out what she¡¯s got to do with the Triumvirate. Gods, I thought, shaking my head. Relax, Ry. All that stuff comes after you sort your own life out first. At least, sort it out as much as I could. Superheroing was a lot simpler than being a normal person.


    I wasn¡¯t going to spend a lot of time here, anyway, but flaking on Emelia didn¡¯t sit right with me, plus Bianca might still be around here somewhere, too. At best, I had twenty minutes left to be a normal kid for a while before everything got serious again. I could at least grab a few churros and make up some lie about where I had to go. Would I suck for hurting Bianca and leaving her with a lot more questions than answers? Probably. Was this the first time she¡¯d seen me since before graduation? Maybe. But I could at least show her that I was still alive and kicking.


    Before I disappear again and leave her wondering where I keep running off to, I thought. Yes, I was going to tell her one day, but only after supervillains stopped trying to kill me so often.


    Because, if you hadn¡¯t caught on yet, I¡¯d already hurt her as Rylee, but doing it as Olympia would be crossing a personal line that I didn¡¯t really know how to fix without finally snapping.


    And sure, maybe it was impulsive coming to see her, maybe a little stupid and wrong and I could have done this in a lot of other ways, but if it wasn¡¯t right now, then when would I?


    Hell, for all I knew, she must have moved on from feeling hurt about leaving her hanging. She was meeting with some friends, is what she¡¯d said. Good. Her summer was going well then.


    I just hoped I could still fit somewhere on that roster. If not, then there wasn¡¯t anybody else left to blame except for the idiot playing superhero. Maybe she won¡¯t even stomach seeing me.


    Like most of my decisions, I left it to my gut feeling, and kept going toward her.


    It took several minutes of searching and asking around until I found Em again. She was closer to the mall near the end of the avenue now, hidden by a baseball hat she must¡¯ve gotten from one of her fans. And it was just my luck that she was talking to Bianca, sitting around a small glass table beside some bushes obscuring the two slightly. The place they sat in front of was packed full of people trying to get expensive burgers, probably way too out of my budget for me to bother checking the prices as I got closer. I was nervous, I¡¯ll admit. Seeing Bianca as Olympia was easier (though not by much), but seeing her as myself would be a lot harsher on the thing beating in me. Pretending I didn¡¯t know how she felt made our friendship that little bit more complicated for me.


    And maybe that was one of the reasons I hadn¡¯t told her about who I really was, just because I didn¡¯t know how she would take the news. Like Dennie said, I don¡¯t have many friends.


    Losing another because of my own screw ups wasn¡¯t going to happen, not again.


    A part of me wished that mom did a better job of explaining how human relationships worked. I wasn¡¯t going to think about Ronnie right now, though. I didn¡¯t have the mental space.


    Shouldering my way through the seemingly thicker crowd, the smells of sweat and saliva and bodily odor assaulted my nose as I got closer. I got there, eventually, after some guy sweating enough to dampen his dress shirt shoved past me and quickly apologized. Were humans always this much of a mess? Smelling so strongly of perfume as if to mask their bodily smells? And what was with all that mint gum? I couldn¡¯t really tell. My mind was far away from here, my body a little further. Bianca looked up, caught my eye before she started smiling at something Em said.


    Then the smile fell away, faded to nothing, and the pit in my gut suddenly got a lot larger.


    I had to force my feet to stay on the ground, because my gut told me to take off right that second and go somewhere else. I watched her slowly stand up, pushing her chair back. I got bumped into by several more people, each one of them sweaty, all of them heading the same direction: toward the shopping center. And before I knew it, she was practically in front of me, mouthing my name, and I could hear every letter of it coming out of her mouth. Sure, I was using my powers to focus on her, leaving everything around me to fade away into background noise.


    But I guessed that would have happened with or without my powers.


    ¡°Where the fuck have you been for the past two months?¡± she asked, now in front of me. I didn¡¯t know if that was the first question she¡¯d asked me, but it was the first thing I heard from her.


    It took me a little by surprise that she¡¯d gotten here so quickly, or maybe I¡¯d just been a little too zoned in on the scar on her lip and how it moved when she talked sometimes. She didn¡¯t sound angry, but she did sound hurt, almost betrayed that I would show up today of all days.


    I scratched the back of my head, not really knowing what to say. ¡°I¡¯ve just been busy.¡±


    ¡°Too busy to answer my calls? My texts?¡± She had been a lot more excited to talk to Olympia than she was me, but I figured I had to reap what I sowed. ¡°Jesus, you look exhausted.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. I promise, B,¡± I said. ¡°Like I said, I¡¯ve been really busy, but I¡¯m here now, so I guess that¡¯s proof that I¡¯m doing just fine. And you look great. Good, I mean. Healthy. Strong.¡±


    Bianca stared at me, and the longer that continued, the more my mouth dried. Was she taller now, standing in front of me? She moved to speak, say something, then she shut her eyes for a second and let her shoulders drop. She sighed through a gap between her lips, then looked at me again. ¡°I went to your house a couple times. Your mom told me what happened between you two.¡±


    I nearly choked on my own spit. ¡°She told you what happened? Everything?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Yeah, everything about you wanting to get out and live on your own. Something about finding yourself? I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t really think about this stuff because it kinda hurts when your best friend just vanishes one day without even telling you where she¡¯s going or for how long or why she¡¯s not even picking up your calls anymore. But it¡¯s cool. It¡¯s whatever.¡± Bianca shrugged, nodded again, then looked me over. ¡°You look fine, so¡­ alright.¡± A pause as she stared at me, chewing her tongue inside her mouth as she often did when she was thinking. She finally sighed, then muttered, ¡°I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re not staying for long, are you?¡±


    I hated how easily all of that came out, and I hated that question even more. She¡¯d asked me that so many times during high school, so many times I was over at her place, that the resignation in her voice wasn¡¯t even there anymore. It was just defeat in her tone, cold and distant. My gut curdled with emotions, sick, sick emotions that made me want to puke, because this could have been a lot easier if I¡¯d just explained who I was, or what I was doing. But distancing myself from people made doing what I had to do a lot easier. Heck, getting thrown through several trains, leaping in front of supervillains and getting punched through buildings by a blast of golden light to save them wouldn¡¯t be things I¡¯d do willingly if I was worried about people caring if I was alright or not. It wasn¡¯t voluntary, but it just made it a hell of a lot easier getting up again and again.


    And at the end of the day, it was just me that I was worrying about, not anyone else. If I died, then sure, that would fucking suck, especially if I checked out before I got my statue erected.


    But if I constantly had someone waiting for me to come back every night, then I¡¯d just be holding myself back. Bianca was always worried about each bump and scrape and scar I got. It was sweet at first, I¡¯d admit, but then she started asking questions, started trying to dig, and I wasn¡¯t planning on getting her hurt the way that supervillains loved doing to me. It wasn¡¯t fair. Not to her, and it hadn¡¯t been to Selina either. Sometimes the people you cared about got hurt in this line of work, and it was my job to make sure it didn¡¯t happen, even if that meant sacrificing a relationship for their safety. I wished it was easier, but easy wasn¡¯t something I usually did.


    So, finally, all I had to say was: ¡°Yeah. Em told me you were here, so I wanted to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Save it,¡± she said quietly. Bianca pinched her nose, then sighed. ¡°I¡¯m trying to be really understanding, Ry. I am. But I just don¡¯t get it. Did I do something wrong to push you away?¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Of course not. Why the hell would you think that?¡±


    ¡°Gee, I don¡¯t know. Maybe it¡¯s because it feels like I¡¯m talking to a stranger right now.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve only been gone for two months!¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve been fine, alright? Just really¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh my God, I get it,¡± Bianca said. ¡°You¡¯ve just been so, so busy, Rylee. But busy doing what? For all I know you could be selling drugs! Or-Or doing something illegal, like¡±¡ªshe dropped her voice¡ª¡°gang stuff. I don¡¯t know. Maybe I¡¯m just freaking out. But you look sick, and tired, and you¡¯re looking at me like I¡¯m some crazy person just because I¡¯m worried about you.¡±


    ¡°I can take care of myself just fine,¡± I argued. A few people were looking at us, glancing over their shoulders. I tried to ignore the rivers of people rushing their way around us to the shopping center. If we were going to have this conversation, then we might as well have it right now before I had to leave again, which, yes, was a point that stung. ¡°I just need some time to sort things out before I start hanging out with you again. Give me a few weeks. Two months tops.¡±


    Bianca shook her head. ¡°No way, you¡¯re not running off again this time. At least tell me if I can help you out in some way. I¡¯d feel shitty if you were hurting and I couldn¡¯t help you out.¡±


    Unless you¡¯re a superhero, B, I doubt. ¡°You¡¯re just¡­ You¡¯re just gonna have to trust me.¡±


    ¡°Do you hear how that sounds, Ry? Trust you after all of this?¡±


    I nodded, not meeting her eyes. ¡°Yeah, I know how it sounds, but that¡¯s all I¡¯m asking.¡±


    Bianca stepped a little closer, and her cinnamon scent immediately ran down my throat. She gently took my shoulder, looking me in the eyes, forcing me to look at her. ¡°What¡¯re you hiding?¡±


    I smiled weakly. ¡°If I told you, I doubt you¡¯d believe me, so please, just trust me?¡±


    She frowned a little. ¡°How about we trade? One of your secrets for one of mine.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not ten anymore, you know.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know,¡± she said, shrugging. ¡°But it used to work then, so let''s see if it still does.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t think of anything I didn¡¯t already know about her. Unless something had happened over the past few months since I¡¯d seen her. Maybe someone else was in the picture now. Or maybe she was going to tell me about what happened on prom night between her and Olympia. She never did tell me where she went. All she did was call later that night and ask if I got home safe after the supervillain attack. I had hoped she would tell me eventually, but she hadn¡¯t yet, and I guess I didn¡¯t really have the ground to point and judge her when I had been doing the same thing to her for years now. So that was a new possibility: she¡¯d found someone else now.


    And for whatever reason, my gut was sliding lower into my body. I didn¡¯t know why, and I wasn¡¯t about to question the human part of me and its stupid little emotions flooding through me.


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°I mean, sure,¡± I said, only lying a little, bracing myself in the process. ¡°Go first.¡±


    She pursed her lips, then quietly said, ¡°It¡¯s about Ben.¡±


    I stared at her, then at Emelia, who had been watching us not-so-secretly from just over the rim of her drink. She quickly looked away when we locked eyes, suddenly very interested in her strawberry smoothie. ¡°Bianca,¡± I said slowly. ¡°You promised that you¡±¡ªI can¡¯t say "gotten over,¡± because how can you get over burying your own freaking brother?¡ª¡±had dealt with all of that.¡±


    ¡°I know, I know,¡± she said, voice shaky. ¡°But this is something new. Different.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure where this was going, and I didn¡¯t know if I should keep asking. Bianca was a lot better at handling her emotions than I was mine, so talking someone through grief wasn¡¯t exactly a superpower of mine. But I could try, for her sake, and listen to what she had to say.


    Before she could answer, a voice that shocked my system back to high school, and specifically my cafeteria table, called through the crowd for Bianca. Suddenly, the people around us were louder, smelt more, and were circling us as they tried getting past us. It was like snapping out of a trance and waking up when Bianca¡¯s hand fell off my shoulder as she raised it to wave at two girls coming toward us. One was new to me, someone I¡¯d never seen before. About as tall as Bianca, but with only that little bit more muscle on her frame. She had light brown skin and curly black hair that sat around her shoulders in a dark cloud. It looked damp, until I realized that she was one of the lucky ones with healthy hair. She wore jeans and sneakers, simple and effective, because her green eyes were striking, and the look in them was, too. Knuckles had that same look.


    Almost defensive and wary, ready to react to anything surrounding her, but hers were soft enough to not look at everything and everyone with a sort of malicious venom behind each blink.


    I couldn¡¯t help but notice the slit in her brow from recent stitches, so fresh that, if I squinted, I was sure I could still see the fresh tissue. She must have been in a fight of some kind. A punch like that would have been going for the eye, but she didn¡¯t have any bruising around it. Her hands were stuffed in her jacket pockets, so I couldn¡¯t spot any bruises on her knuckles, either.


    But the other girl next to her, the one waving back at Bianca, wasn¡¯t new to me at all.


    In fact, I hoped to high heaven when I missed my graduation that I¡¯d never see her again.


    But fate, that old bitch, seemingly worked a lot harder than the devil walking toward me.


    ¡°Bianca!¡± Harper Goldstein¡ªyes, that Goldstein¡ªsaid, almost chirping when she brushed past me like I wasn¡¯t standing right there. She hugged Bianca, doing that rich person thing when they kissed both cheeks after she flipped up her large sunglasses. ¡°Oh my goodness, I¡¯m so happy I spotted you. There are way too many people here today. I swear, you¡¯d think there was some kind of fiesta going on. That¡¯s what the Mexicans call festivals, by the way. That¡¯s so fun, right?¡±


    Emelia tilted her head at Harper, choosing to finally stand up from the table and stand beside me, putting her hand on my shoulder before I could do something I probably wouldn¡¯t regret doing to her. The girl was so invested in telling Bianca about everything she¡¯d done on her super cool trip to Mexico last week that the three of us were left standing together watching them.


    ¡°¡®Sup,¡± the brown-skinned girl said to us, not offering a hand. ¡°Name¡¯s Victoria.¡±


    Emelia smiled at her, then elbowed me so I could stop staring and simmering at Harper. ¡°I¡¯m Emelia. Emelia Del Rosario. I used to go to school with Bianca. You¡¯re new here?¡±


    Victoria nodded. Her face hadn¡¯t shifted from bored yet. ¡°Just last week. You always hear so much about this place, but dude, it¡¯s a lot louder and larger than the newspaper always says.¡±


    Who still reads the newspaper? ¡°I¡¯m Rylee,¡± I said, because Em elbowed me again.


    ¡°¡ªand then we went to the pool, and these really hot guys were checking me out,¡± Harper was saying. I was finding it hard staying still. It was even harder watching her steal Bianca. Her back was facing us, her thick black hair swaying as she shook her head. It was like we weren¡¯t there, like she was doing this on purpose! No. I had to relax. If I started thinking about¡­ Wait a minute, I thought. Since when did these two become friends? ¡°So I ended up getting his number, and his friend¡¯s, too, so if you ever need a little bit of a break, then you know where to find me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s super, Harper, but,¡± Bianca said, taking her by the shoulders and slowly turning her around, ¡°you also haven¡¯t said hi to everyone else, like, you know, the way we agreed last night?¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve already said hi to Vicky. She¡¯s a sweetheart. Love her hair.¡±


    Victoria didn¡¯t correct her. Silent type. I liked her. She almost made me miss Knuckles.


    But it also left Emelia and I staring at her. Em and I didn¡¯t agree on many things, and we fought about almost everything, but if it was one thing that united us, it was Harper Goldie, like people used to call her behind her back. Was it wrong that I wanted her to commit a crime? Just so I had a reason to try out a new move I had been working on that involved the cold hard pavement.


    ¡°That¡¯s Emelia,¡± Bianca said to her. ¡°You know, the girl on your track team a while back?¡±


    I didn¡¯t know if she was acting or not, but her gray eyes soon glazed over, and her nose scrunched up just a little bit, too. ¡°Oh, right. You. I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re even here in New Olympus. Aren¡¯t you supposed to be in some producer or director¡¯s office right now with the curtains shut?¡±


    Emelia blinked, and I prayed to the heavens to make Harper at least jaywalk to give me a reason to shut her up. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m an actress because I was scouted. What the hell¡¯s your problem?¡±


    ¡°Harper,¡± Bianca said sharply. ¡°What did I say about insulting people?¡±


    ¡°God, It¡¯s not my fault that her little tv show needed to hit a quota,¡± Harper muttered.


    ¡°Tv show?¡± Victoria asked, cocking her stitched eyebrow at Em. ¡°You¡¯re in the pictures?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just as much of an asshole as you were back in high school,¡± I said.


    And now she looked at me, eyes narrowing. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, are you here for something? If you want her autograph then ask her and leave, we¡¯re trying to have a conversation here, okay?¡±


    I hadn¡¯t noticed that I was off the ground by a few millimeters. Em noticed, bumping me again. ¡°I¡¯m not some fucking fan, idiot,¡± I said, a little angrier. ¡°You don¡¯t even remember me?¡±


    Harper hummed a little, looking me up and down. ¡°Should I? Oh! A waitress.¡±


    It took all my willpower not to grab her throat. ¡°You used to pick on me.¡±


    A beat of silence as she stared at me, then, ¡°No, I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯d remember that.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t believe what I was hearing. I almost laughed at the absurdity of hearing the girl who made coming to school every morning a living hell for the past few years of my life. Being a superhero was well and good most of the time, and being Zeus¡¯ daughter made the deal sweeter other times, but when your greatest villain to date was a girl who technically hadn¡¯t done anything wrong in legal terms except making you feel like shit for most of your teenage years, then it got a little difficult to suppress some of my urges. People didn¡¯t usually talk to me this way, but that was Olympia I was talking about. Sure, they spat and threw food, but if I flew a little closer, balled my fists and stared them dead in the eyes, then they would learn to keep their mouths fucking shut.


    But Rylee couldn¡¯t do that, because doing that meant hurting someone technically innocent.


    Even though she made eating in the bathroom part of my routine so I could escape having to listen to whatever rumor she had come up with that day. Or when she stuck gum in my hair totally by accident. And poured glitter on a sweater that my grandma made for me on Christmas. Tripped me in the hallway. Shoved me against the bathroom sinks, breaking them in the process. Stealing my homework. Hiding my running gear so I was late to track meets, making the entire team mad at me, and thus making Coach punish us with suicide runs rather than actual training.


    Or the time she had the fucking nerve to tell the school that my dad cheated on my mom and ran off. That¡¯s why he¡¯s not around, you know, she¡¯d said to her friends at lunch. He screwed some broad and her mom found out. Lucky that Zeus was busy dying so he could run off after.


    It wasn¡¯t the only thing she¡¯d said about dad. There was a list of things so long I couldn¡¯t even begin to name them individually, but that one stuck with me the most, because from then onward, most people from school either looked at me with this sad, sad look of pity in their eyes, or would snicker as I passed. Then she said I came from a sperm donor, or that I was acting out in school because I didn¡¯t grow up with a dad. No wonder he left, was what she loved muttering if I screwed up. Or maybe that was just how I was remembering it, with emotions blurring and churning and stitching together broken memories. But picking on me was one thing. I stomached it. She did it because she was captain of the track team, and her dad was rich and her mom was a retired superhero back in the Golden Age, so she figured she could treat anyone like shit, but she chose me specifically because, well, she was the first person to think I looked a lot like Olympia.


    And for a girl who was wearing a necklace with her own name on it, with a tiny bolt of golden lightning coming after it around her throat, then who was I to judge her? After all, I was also the girl who got her suspended, lowered her GPA, put her into detention several times, and her face into the same bathroom mirror a few minutes after she¡¯d shoved me against the sinks. The hate was mutual between us, but she started it. How did it start? Well, I was being a superhero, and she hated entertaining the thought that I might actually be the person she had stickers of on her laptop.


    At least, that was my way of trying to understand why she hated me so much. Losing both the Nationals and State championships rested on her shoulders, despite what she tried telling Coach. Suddenly, the Goldstein family had a child that wasn¡¯t quite so perfect because of me. Bad exam results. Missing tests because she chose to fight with me instead. Missing track meets only cemented the idea in her head that I might just be Olympia, so she made sure that it wasn¡¯t true.


    But I guessed that sucked for her, because daddy¡¯s little princess was a failure. Like me, in some way, and no, I wasn¡¯t going to bother thinking that Harper and I were two sides of the same coin. That shit didn¡¯t float around here, because I was going to get my statue regardless of her.


    All that Harper could do was keep being an asshole, even after high school ended.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Harper said suddenly. ¡°You¡¯re that girl who used to reek of sweat coming to school! Oh, wow, I forgot all about you. What¡¯re you doing here? And¡­ Gee, you still reek of it.¡±


    I had to tell myself that hurting her wasn¡¯t worth it, but oh, man, how badly I wanted to.


    Bianca grabbed her by the wrist, and then said, ¡°We spoke about this last night, Harper. I only promised to come to 12th with you if you weren¡¯t going to be weird about it all day long.¡±


    ¡°I feel like I¡¯m intruding,¡± Victoria muttered. ¡°I¡¯ll go find food for us to consume.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, Harper.¡±


    Harper sighed for several seconds, making a grand show out of it. Eventually, with her sunglasses now back in place, she looked at the pair of us, and only our reflections stared right back. ¡°I liked your outfit in the first season,¡± she said to Em. ¡°It was really in for the time.¡±


    ¡°Which outfit?¡± asked Emelia, folding her arms.


    She smiled at her, then looked at me. ¡°You¡­ You¡¯re still here, so good for you.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t stomach this much longer. I grabbed Bianca by the forearm and led her away by a few dozen steps, leaving Emelia to grill her. ¡°Really?¡± I asked. ¡°Harper fucking Goldstein?¡±


    ¡°I know, I know,¡± Bianca said hurriedly. ¡°She¡¯s rough around the edges and has some work to do, but I feel like we¡¯ve made a lot of progress. She¡¯s cut down on her insults recently.¡±


    I stared at her, dumbfounded, like I was talking to an alien that had taken over her body and had forgotten about taking me to the principal¡¯s office after Harper and I were caught fighting in the girl¡¯s locker room several dozen times. ¡°She made me miserable, and now you¡¯re friends?¡±


    Bianca shrugged, then shook her head, then gave up when I muttered something foul. ¡°Okay, look, I know she was terrible to you, and she probably didn¡¯t deserve a chance to make¡ª¡±


    ¡°Deserve a chance?¡± I asked. More people around us than before, I noticed, when I got shoved past again. Where were so many people going? Whatever. Not now. ¡°She hates everything and everyone that isn¡¯t herself. Why would she ever deserve another chance to be any better?¡±


    ¡°What else was I supposed to do?¡± she asked. ¡°Harper¡¯s got nobody else right now.¡±


    ¡°And what about all her cronies from school?¡±


    Bianca shook her head. ¡°They¡¯re all going to Olympus West in the fall. She¡¯s not.¡±


    I smiled, almost grinned excitedly. ¡°You¡¯re telling me she got rejected?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, she did, ¡° Bianca said, glancing at her as Emelia started slipping into Spanish the more heated their argument got. ¡°It turns out all those fights you guys had tanked her GPA. She barely graduated, Ry, and so did you. It was Olympus U or disappoint her parents, so¡­¡±


    Finally, a win for Rylee. ¡°Looks like I might just have done the world a favor.¡±


    ¡°Could you at least have a little bit of sympathy?¡±


    ¡°For the girl who poured egg yolks down my shirt in home room?¡± I asked. I shook my head and shrugged. ¡°You really should stop trying to help everyone. Especially people like her.¡±


    ¡°Well, Ben helped a ton of people, people who probably wouldn¡¯t be here without him,¡± Bianca said, her eyes softening. I hardened a little, not allowing myself a second to even think of giving Harper any sympathy. ¡°Like this one girl, Katie. She told me that she would have¡ª¡±


    ¡°Who is that?¡± I said. ¡°You keep mentioning her name. Is she someone you¡­ You know.¡±


    Bianca shook her head, waving her hands in front of her. ¡°No way. Never. Katie was Ben¡¯s girlfriend before he, well, anyway. I didn¡¯t even know he had one till she knocked on the front door one night. You should have seen the look on my mom¡¯s face when she introduced herself.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really see what Katie has to do with Harper, B,¡± I said.


    ¡°I¡¯m just saying that I wanted to give her a chance to at least change,¡± she said, taking my hands in hers, almost pleading. ¡°I know you hate her. Hate me, too. But Ben was¡­ He was¡ª¡±


    Before I heard a shriek of terror, I smelt the bitter pang of blood in the air. It was sudden, sickening, sour to my taste buds. A splash of cold water on my face, shocking me awake. I grabbed Bianca¡¯s wrist, my eyes and ears heightened. I scanned the faces around us, faces just as confused, growing more worried as the screaming from somewhere in the crowd continued. People started getting restless, pushing and shoving, panic slowly seeping into bloodstreams. Where¡¯s that smell coming from? It was growing, so was the shrieking. I looked at Emelia, and she was already looking at me, at the crowd, her back toward Harper who was still trying to argue.


    Victoria appeared from the masses, a tray of hotdogs soon forgotten in her hands as she dropped them, splattering food onto the pavement, and pointed just over my shoulder. ¡°Kaiju!¡±


    And with just a single word, and a blood chilling scream, the world around us erupted.

 Issue #20: Animal Control

    When a monster attacked, there was rarely ever any rhyme or reason to what they were planning. There was a reason that kids in Lower Olympus had stricter curfews than normal. There was a reason that we were taught the Kaiju song in middle school, even performed it for our parents. We were told they were animals, pure and savage, but so much more than pure breeds of what an animal could ever hope to be. Most were thoroughbred murderers higher on the food chain than the average human. They hunted and stalked, preyed on the unsuspecting and ate them alive.


    I could go on and on about the woodlands Lucas had sent me into, hunting down stray packs of them notorious for killing hikers, and the Europeans and how quick they were to propose a task force to the DPIA to hunt them down. It got turned down. Some Kaiju weren¡¯t killers, and some had even made it to smaller offices in the government, but people saw those as the exception. The good ones. The tame ones. The world might me split about superhumans and what should happen with the likes of us, but it didn¡¯t take much to tick off a Kaiju willing to eat you alive.


    So when a row of glinting white teeth appeared above Bianca, saliva flung through the air by its serrated jowls, my first instinct was to smash my fist into its skull and through its brain.


    But Victoria beat me to it. She raised one arm, pulled back the other, and threads of light wove around her fingers and hands, weaving into a bow and arrow she launched straight into its muzzle. The arrow snapped its head backward, sending it flying. It came out clean through the other side of his head, dissipating into a burst of sparks. The wolf-man Kaiju slammed into the concrete, blood gushing from his throat. He was half naked, muscular, scarred up and sweaty.


    The stench coming from him was familiar, a lot like¡­ Wraith, he smelt like Wraith. Sickly sweet, sour, and yet so ripe that smelling him for longer than a few seconds began to hurt my nose.


    The crowd surrounding us exploded into panicked screams. More Kaiju shrieked and bellowed and barked. Children screamed from the tops of their lungs, crying for their parents as they got trampled in the chaos. I got spun around by a tide of bodies shoving and pushing against me. I didn¡¯t let go of Bianca, stuck to her shouting for Harper and Victoria. Most were sprinting toward the closed safety of the shopping complex, a terribly large building made of glass and beige concrete. Get her out of here. Get her to safety. Shit, shit, shit, too many people to start flying. I had to get Bianca out of here, then I¡¯d deal with the Kaiju, figure out what the fuck they were doing.


    I pulled her along, using only a little bit of my strength to make my way forward. She¡¯d grabbed onto Harper. Em was beside me, and Victoria had given up shooting bolts of golden light at a Kaiju with large black wings sweeping over the crowd, yanking people by the shoulders and taking them up, up, up so high that when he eventually let go of them, there wasn¡¯t much to see when they smashed into the pavement or other people. It made me stumble, sick to my stomach as I lurched to the side, saving at least a few dozen people from getting smashed to bits by a body.


    But the more we ran, the more people screamed, the more Kaiju seemed to appear around us. That¡¯s when I saw the shadows around the stalls, in the alleys from distant streets and even our own shadows trying to catch up to us as we ran and ran and fucking ran. They were bubbling, simmering, reeking of sulfur and something foul and rotten. I stumbled to a brief stop, staring at the overturned churro stall, at the shadow it cast onto the ground. A hand appeared from it, clawed and reptilian, followed by a dozen similar ones. Their skin was scaled, gray and black, some red, others green. It didn¡¯t matter. Their eyes were slits, yellow and inhuman. Shit. It¡¯s Wraith. It has to be.


    Was he here? Fuck, I couldn¡¯t tell. He could be anywhere. In the high rise offices. Underground. Too many people shoving and shouting. Not enough time to stop and check. Why today?! Bianca shouted my name, panic in her voice. She pulled me along, and I fell in place beside her, not out of breath, but breathing hard, trying to find a break, someplace I could vanish into and make Olympia appear out of thin air. I looked at Em, shouted at her. Pointed to the sky, my chest, and she got the message, but then her eyes widened as we reached the complex''s entrance. My head snapped up, hearing a shriek so loud that pain spiked right through my head.


    Sweeping black wings spread a shadow over the crowd¡ªand us¡ªtrying to force their way through the tiny entrances of the shopping complex. Some people were beating on the glass. It cracked. Splintered. Then shattered. Bodies spilled onto it, scrambled onto their feet and kept running deeper into safety where the mall guards were shouting at people to go. But we were still too far away from getting in. Trapped in a prison of human bars and fleshy walls of sweat and tears and hot, greasy blood. At least, Bianca was. So was Harper. Victoria¡¯s bow melted from her hands, turning into a sword she dug into a half-lizard woman writhing and frothing as she clamped her jaws on a man¡¯s arm. Its body went limp. So did the man¡¯s. He was spasming, shaking from pain or shock or blood loss. Nothing I could do to help. The man with black wings swooped low again, sharpened fingernails raking over a fat man¡¯s back. Through cloth and flesh, deep into muscle, his claws spilled blood and exposed the bones of his ribcage. He fell face first onto the ground, dead.


    The birdman flew up again, then swooped low, wet talons extended toward us.


    ¡°Rylee!¡± Bianca shrieked, hand finding mine, but I shoved her away and into the complex.


    Then I was in the air, kicking wildly. His hands were strong, clamped tightly around my shoulders. Bianca shouted my name, an echo that wrung loud in my ears. Em grabbed her, all of them, shouted at them to follow her into the complex. They vanished from view, lost in a heaving stream of humans, so many of them they blurred. I bucked and kicked, swore at him to let go of me. He said something foul, saying something about being below him, beneath him. A human in a food chain that was moving on without them. A new world is coming and you¡¯re not going to be part of it. He smiled down at me, his face made blinding by the glare of the sun behind him, making it painful to look directly at his sharpened canines and the splatter of blood on his face.


    Before he could let go, I swung my feet upward, using my flight to make it violent and sudden. The heels of my sneakers slammed into his chest as I flipped upward. He screamed, a wet gurgling sound as his chest caved in and blood flooded his lungs and throat and gushed from his wide, crying mouth. He let go of me suddenly, clasping his throat as he spiraled. I fell with him, pinning my arms to my sides as I fell. The wind was wild in my ears, screaming as loud as the crowd far below us as I grabbed him by the wings. I slammed into his back, crouched, and tore them out. They came free with bone and ligament, and he was long dead before he hit the ground.


    By then, I had already landed on a low rooftop and was already ripping off my clothes.


    I sprinted to the edge of the rooftop, then leaped off of it, spinning to build momentum and not wasting a single second to slam into the pavement, taking two lizard people with me. Their bodies sprayed open, painting the splintered stone red and green. I stood, grabbed a stunned couple painted with fright, and forced them onto their feet and yelled at them to move, fucking move, before another half-naked woman covered in slick black fur, bearing large black teeth, bounded through the crowd. I was on her in seconds, a fist into her snout. Her face crumpled, my knuckles going halfway through her skull before she fell. I shook her off, shouted at the humans to run.


    Because the shadows were still bubbling and spewing more Kaiju. And now the sun was arcing through the sky, casting larger patches of darkness around 12th Avenue. A clawed hand grabbed a kid, ripping through his jeans. He shrieked, high pitched and terrified. His friends stumbled, reared backward, grabbed onto his shoulders and tried pulling him free. I shot toward the shadow, slamming my foot onto the half-birthed Kaiju. It let go of the kid, and I swept him up into my arms, told his friends to hold onto me as I flew as quickly as I could to the entrance of the complex. I wasn¡¯t a taxi, I knew that, but I could only keep killing all the Kaiju if the humans weren¡¯t there running around in front of me. I handed him to a man pulling kids into the building.


    Then I heard a bellow so loud it made the ground underneath me shudder. Glass already not broken splintered, cracked, and rubble skittered against my boots. I snapped around to look at the sound, just like so many other people did around me. And right there at the end of the avenue, beside the now broken fountain gushing water freely onto the street, was a beast of a man rising from the shadows vomiting him onto the avenue. He was a hulking mass of thick gray plates on his forearms and shoulders, covering his back and chest and damn near his entire muscular body. His eyes were a deep luminous yellow, and the stench coming off him was the strongest I¡¯d smelt yet.


    The white horn sprouting from his forehead was easily as large as my head.


    And then he hunkered down into a crouch, roared, and charged forward.


    Fuck, fuck, fuck. Looking at the stream of people still flooding into the complex; fewer, but not all in yet. They needed another few minutes at least. A handful more that I had to give them.


    I flew up into the sky, then darted low, skimming over the rubble, blowing away chairs and toppled tables and forgotten food stalls in the blast of wind I left behind me. I raised a fist, bracing myself, closer and closer to the man charging forward, tramping over everything in his warpath. He was gaining speed, getting faster and faster, heavier, smashing apart the concrete he stepped on.


    Then we met, and he swiped his forearm through the air and sent me flying.


    I cartwheeled freely, winded, slightly dazed as I tried to get my bearings. Then I was through a window, through several mannequins and clothes racks. A girl screamed and lunged out of the way as I slid to a stop on my side. Clothes were strewn over me, now filthy with blood and grit. The employees in the store stared at me, then at the door, terrified that their chained shut entrance was now blown wide open. I groaned, got onto my elbow and pulled the bras and shawls and t-shirts off my body. What the hell? My head rang, and I shook it out, getting onto my feet.


    He wasn¡¯t at the complex yet, and he wasn¡¯t going to reach it, his strength be damned. I exploded out of the store, spun in the air, and slammed my feet against his knee. He buckled, only stumbled, and kept charging, as if I was barely a gnat to him. I rolled, continuing my momentum, and was on him in the next second, wrapping my arms around his thick, tree-trunk-like waist as I tackled him into a short statue of Cleopatra with her sword raised to the sky. Concrete dust rushed down my throat as I inhaled, gasping when we hit the ground. I rolled off him, and he shoved me away. I slammed my fist into his jaw, and all I got for my effort was a crack in his gray plating.


    ¡°What the hell are you?¡± I whispered, hovering backward as he rose to his full height.


    He answered me by grabbing my arm and slamming me into the pavement. My head whacked against the stone, shocking my body numb. He lifted me into the air, threw me.


    Onto my feet, off the pavement. I shook my head, spat blood from my mouth.


    I dug my fingernails into my palms, forcing more electricity to wrap around my arms and legs and torso. The cement underneath me bubbled, melted. The water spilling from the fountain hissed and steamed. It hurt, it hurt like I was trying to rip apart my muscles. Like I said, I had to temper myself most times, and that was always more than enough to kill a supervillain, but there was always a little more in the tank, a little more that I kept in the reserves, and I let it flow, let it burn all over me, evaporating the blood¡ªgreen and red¡ªoff me as my body heated and heated.


    A split second before I launched myself forward, the ground splintered, then I was rocketing toward him. He didn¡¯t have the time to react as I dug my fingertips underneath his gray plating. Through tough flesh and tougher muscle, I felt his heart pulsating against my hand¡ªand I went right through it, barreling into him with such force that most of his body simply popped open like a bloody, fleshy zit. I slid on him, now splayed onto his back and leaving a streak of red on the concrete. My body still burned, charring the flesh I had to pull my hand out of. I shook my hand out, wriggled my fingers. Spat meat out of my mouth and wiped sweat and blood off my brow.


    Then another baritone of a bellow shook the avenue, and this time, it came right before another one of him crashed into several of the support pillars in front of the complex¡¯s entrance.


    The steel and concrete buckled as the man went straight through them, stumbling to a stop inside of the complex, stepping on people barely half his size. He shook his head, looked back.


    And found my fist buried into his jaw. Large molars thicker than my fingers flew from his mouth and skittered away. He collapsed, skidding away. I spun on my heels as the first chunk of concrete fell. The people still at the entrance screamed, pleading to get away from the Kaiju still hunting them outside. The SDU were getting close, their blaring sirens shrieking through the city. Didn¡¯t matter. I ran, flew, and caught the first part of the entrance that began slumping low. I swore loudly several times as stone jammed against my collar bone, pushing me to the ground in seconds.


    I had lifted cars and trucks, helped right a sinking aircraft carrier with some help, but this kind of weight was different. People were underneath me, scampering underneath my legs, around me, giving up on the other entrances and focusing on the one still a fraction open. I groaned in pain, effort, my arms shaking as I was forced onto a knee by the weight on my shoulder. My fingers dug into the reinforced cement. Panels of glass fell from above, smashing into the ground, showering me and the civilians in shards of glass. My body ached. Burned. Wanted to buckle and quit and fold under the weight. A Kaiju with antlers charged toward me. I shouted for people to move, get out of the way, before she could impale anyone. Then she slammed right into me.


    Air vanished from my lungs, and I gasped, bared my teeth, and looked down at her. She pushed forward, making me slide backward. More rubble fell, smashing into an old man¡¯s skull.


    Then a girl shoved through the crowd, lifted a metal bat, and swung as hard as she could, smashing it right in the side of the antler woman¡¯s head. She slumped to the ground. The few civilians still trying to get in crawled past, limping, wet with blood, crying and shivering and shaking with tears and hushed thank yous to me as the mall guards hurried them away to safety.


    Bianca said, ¡°That¡¯s all of them. Can¡¯t see any others.¡± She didn¡¯t let go of the bat in her hand as she backed up to give me some space, but not before shoving the antler woman away.


    Still trying to save someone after smashing in their skull, I thought, flying back.


    The entrance collapsed, throwing dust and rubble into my face as I shielded Bianca. I coughed, wiped spit from the corner of my mouth. I pushed a hand through my hair, exhausted, looking around and finally at the unconscious body of the half-rhino clone asleep on the filthy shiny tiles. I stepped toward him, but thought better of it, because Bianca was still here with me.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, knuckling blood off of my nose. ¡°You should get out of here.¡±


    ¡°My friend,¡± she said, nearing me. ¡°Rylee. I didn¡¯t see her. She might still be¡ª¡±


    ¡°The blonde girl, right?¡± I asked. ¡°She ran off after I saved her from the bird guy.¡±


    Relief washed over her, but her white-knuckled grip on the bat didn¡¯t loosen.


    ¡°Olympia!¡± a guard shouted, waving me over. I hovered toward him, Bianca in tow because it was just how she always reacted to situations like these. The guard¡¯s radio called in another Kaiju deeper in the shopping complex, and now that I was inside of it, the spiraling floors above me were a festering hive just waiting for more of them to attack. ¡°There¡¯s more of them. Bigger than usual.¡± He pointed. ¡°There¡¯s an exit at the end of the complex, out back at the in door parking. Damage Control and the fire department are coming, but I don¡¯t think there¡¯s time to¡ª¡±


    The lights in the complex winked out, leaving the liquified and pale sunlight pouring through the windows as our main source. Emergency lights flicked on, flooding hallways with red.


    ¡°Shit,¡± I muttered. ¡°They must¡¯ve somehow gotten to the power of this place.¡±


    They had planned this all out, attacked from the outside and forced their prey into a cage of cement and steel and glass. Now we were all in the dark with the Kaiju, running right for them.


    ¡°That means they¡¯re out back, too,¡± the guard said. ¡°We keep the industrial generators back there, but they still haven¡¯t kicked on yet. Fuck. Fuck! We just need to get people out of here.¡±


    ¡°Get your guys together,¡± I said to him. ¡°You deal with the civilians, get them to the right places for Damage Control and the N.O.F.D to get them out of here as soon as possible.¡± I hovered a little higher, now feeling the sourness of Wraith¡¯s powers in the air. ¡°I¡¯ll deal with all the Kaiju.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m coming with you,¡± Bianca said quickly. ¡°I can hel¡ª¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said dryly. She stepped back a little, and I eased my tone. ¡°Go with him. Help if you can, and make sure your friends get out of here as quickly as you can. Get home safe, alright?¡±


    Bianca looked reluctant to leave, but she nodded, bat in hand, and followed the guard.


    The shopping complex was a labyrinth in the darkness. A mess of winding corridors and staircases and elevators stuck open on different floors, their emergency power on to make sure the doors remained open. Flashing scarlet emergency lights illuminated the hallways and stores I checked through as I tried to find the Kaiju I could smell lurking in the corridors. Several times, I found a group of teenagers huddled in stores, scared out of their minds, and nearly jumping out of their skin when I was suddenly hovering above them. Kids, too. Moms and dads. People wandering around, stolen baseball bats from the sports stores held high in their hands as they looked for a way out.


    Still no Kaijus, I thought, silent as I flew through the empty food court. Food had been spilled and left behind. Oil still frothed behind counters, now burning forgotten fries. I turned them off, because searching this place when it was up in flames wasn¡¯t something I was planning on doing. I snagged some food on my way, fueling up as I continued my search through the complex.


    I wondered what they were planning by attacking 12th Avenue, if this really was the Kaiju Society behind all of this chaos. If they wanted a ransom, then they would have taken people hostage. Blocked off the entrances properly. But the last time I checked, nobody was directly in charge of any of their attacks. The Society itself was just a loosely put together organization of what people thought were some of the stronger, smarter, more well-put together monsters they had in their ranks. It didn¡¯t matter, though. An attack like this was going to leave a scar on the city. Whatever they were planning, I¡¯d have to stop it before any more people got hurt in the process.


    And for that to happen, I had to find the Kaiju still creeping around in the dark.


    Like clockwork several minutes later, I picked up the meaty stench of death in the air. Then came the spattering of blood on the walls and on the floor. It gleamed in the flashing emergency lights, caught my eye as it shined on the glass of storefronts. Mannequins lay in pieces across the floor, covered in blood. Cellphones, handbags, watches, everything left behind in a terrified rush. Footprints vanishing around corners. Handprints of red pressed against pillars and walls and doors.


    And then came the sounds of chewing, of bones being broken and meat being torn. My gut lurched as the sour smell of loosened bowels stewed together with mauled intestines. The stuffy heat in the shopping complex didn¡¯t make it any better. It heightened it, ripened it. I knew that smell because I¡¯d had to get pretty used to it over the past few years, but this was different. More of Wraith¡¯s shadows were still simmering in corners, spewing that sulfurous odor, and now the entire hallway reeked of death, bile, and this curdled amalgamation of corrosion that made my eyes water. I put a hand to my mouth, trying not to puke. I swallowed, forcing it down my dry throat.


    I turned the corner, and couldn¡¯t help but swear loud enough for it to echo as I froze.


    A large brown hide shuddered over the stiff corpse of two people, pulling guts out of stomach cavities by digging its muzzle directly into them. I nearly puked, put a fist to my mouth to stop myself. The large man¡ªa bear, I figured¡ªstopped, froze, its ears twitching, and turned to look at me. He was crouched low, but when he turned, I saw that his entire chest was slathered in red, his saliva dripping scarlet. I swallowed bile again as he lumbered to his feet, a gleam in his black eyes. He was more animal than man. I almost figured that he wasn¡¯t a human being to begin with. His gut was fat, undoubtedly more than full. He grinned, showing rows of large white teeth tipped with shiny silver metal. Some kind of canine implants to make them sharper, more deadly.


    Then I heard a tiny cry come from the store to my right, where one of the corpses was slumped against the door, keeping it open. The bear¡¯s eyes flicked toward the sound. I did too. Someone was still alive in there, hiding. A child, maybe, judging by the sounds they were making. Too scared to move. Too devastated to cry out for help. The kid must have been deep inside the electronics store, cowering because his mom and dad told him to hide, be quiet, not make a sound until it was safe to come out. I balled my hands into fists, my grip tight, anger deep in my gut. I turned back to look at the bear-man, watched as his muzzle pulled back as he eyed the dark store.


    He snarled, roared, then lunged toward the noise. I slammed into him with my shoulder, sending him crashing through the glass storefront of the electronics store. He shuddered, shook the glass from his fur and let cables slip off his body. I hovered, getting distance between us, trying to find where the kid was hiding. The kid was crying now, shrieking. I smelt urine in the air, but the bear was already lumbering onto his feet, then turning toward me. His shoulder was broken, I could see the bones sitting awkwardly underneath his skin, but they reset themselves, snapping back into place. Before I could question what I¡¯d seen, he charged at me, swinging his paws.


    I flew backward, dodged low. His large claws gouged open a flatscreen, before he picked it up and threw it at me. I caught it, and that was my mistake¡ªhe barreled into me, clamping his jaw onto my forearm. Then pain shot up my arm, hot and searing. His teeth tore right through my gear and into my skin. I swore, shouted in angered agony as he shook his head furiously, turning and twisting, digging metal into my flesh, until I slammed my free forearm into his snout with enough force to crack it. He let go. I dropped into a crouch, then split the tiles when I lunged upward, slamming my fist into his jaw and through his mouth and out of the top of his head. He sagged onto me, dozens of pounds worth of dead weight. I stumbled, sliding him off of my free arm.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    I stumbled back a few steps, panting, waiting to see if he¡¯d somehow pull himself back together again. You couldn¡¯t blame me for being cautious, not after the last few days of my life.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± I hissed, clasping my arm. The cuts weren¡¯t deep, but you wouldn¡¯t know that by the amount of blood flowing down my arm. My sleeve was shredded, torn to bits by his teeth. I flexed my arm, watched as the cuts in my skin began slowly healing again as I tested out my hand.


    I heard footsteps behind me, crunching on broken glass. I spun around, and watched as a boy¡ªthirteen, maybe fourteen¡ªcreeped out from deeper inside of the store. He stared at me, his eyes both wide and empty, then at the bear corps at my feet. He stood with his hands limp by his sides, a wet patch around his crotch. Eyes bloodshot, not wet anymore. He must¡¯ve stopped crying when his parents stopped screaming, then he¡¯d sat there in silence, stiff, waiting for the bear to finish eating what was left of what he¡¯d known his entire life and then come for him right after.


    I didn¡¯t know what to do, I¡¯ll be honest. I was the kind of superhero who left kids like this to be dealt with by the SDU or Damage Control. But we were alone now, and nobody else was going to talk to him, to make him listen as I tried telling him we¡¯ve got to get out of here soon.


    I crouched in front of him, getting on one knee. My arm hurt like hell as I lifted it to put my hand on his shoulder. ¡°Hey,¡± I said, shaking him gently. Nothing. He was staring right past me.


    I glanced over my shoulder to see what he was looking at, then pursed my lips. It was his mother, at least what was left of her, reflecting in his eyes. I obscured what he saw by shifting around, then almost put my hand on his face to make him look at me before I realized they were covered in blood. I tried to wipe it off on my thighs, but it was too slick, too much to get rid of.


    ¡°Listen,¡± I said, finally. ¡°There¡¯s a way out, but you¡¯re gonna have to leave right now.¡±


    The kid blinked once, then looked at me. ¡°Right now?¡± he whispered.


    I nodded. ¡°Yeah, right now. There are people waiting for you to get safe.¡±


    He pointed at his parents. ¡°But they were supposed to be waiting, too.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I whispered as softly as I could. ¡°But we¡¯ve got to go. There are still Kaiju somewhere around here, and you¡¯ve got to trust me. Can you do that? Can you trust me a little?¡±


    He stared at me for several seconds, his black hair disheveled. Then he nodded once, and reached for my hand despite the blood. He clutched onto me like he never wanted to let go. I was reluctant to squeeze back, with a silent voice in the back of my head repulsed that I was being touched in the first place, but instead, I held him firm, walking him out of the store. His sneakers squelched in the blood, slapping against slick tiles. He bent and slid a necklace out from underneath a serrated chunk of meat. I almost told him to drop it, but he stared at it, at the jewel dangling from it, and clutched onto it with his free hand until blood trickled right off his knuckles.


    He didn¡¯t move, not one bit, and I doubted even my super strength would have made him budge. ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± I said softly, trying to be gentle as I pulled him away from his parents. It stung, I knew, because mom did the same exact thing with me years ago when I kept rewatching the final few moments the entire world had watched Zeus still be a hero. She¡¯d gotten rid of recordings. Banned certain search words. We didn¡¯t talk about it on the dinner table, still hadn''t until now, but hell, who gave a shit about that when I was walking down some dark hallway covered in blood with a kid squeezing the life out of my fingers? I wanted to be angry, to feel like I should act on my impulses and hunt the Kaiju down, but for once¡­ Gods, I hated to admit it, but sticking it out with this random kid until he got to safety felt that little bit more important at this moment in time.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± I asked. We hadn¡¯t said anything in minutes, at least, I hadn¡¯t.


    Nothing, not until I offered to carry him on my back, and even then it took several minutes for him to stop fiddling with the dull necklace and say something. ¡°Alex,¡± he whispered hoarsely.


    ¡°I¡¯m Olympia,¡± I said. I flew back through the food court, over a railing and through a cavernous hallway. ¡°It¡¯s really great that I met you. You¡¯re the first person I¡¯ve seen in ages.¡±


    Alex said nothing, and I realized that probably wasn¡¯t something I should have said.


    I tried to come up with something, anything. ¡°Do you have a favorite superhero, Alex?¡±


    He nodded, his wet cheek pressed against my neck. I felt him suppress a cry, shuddering and shaking against my back. Where the hell is the exit? ¡°A-Ares,¡± he forced into my ear.


    I smiled, glancing over my shoulder. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve met him. He¡¯s awesome, right?¡±


    Alex began crying, and the sickness in my gut began to grow as he nodded. His fingers dug into the necklace, and his arms wrapped tighter around my neck, as if he was afraid that I¡¯d let go of him and leave him to fend for himself in the hallways. I hurried, trying to find an escape.


    ¡°He¡¯s strong,¡± he said, still crying the way that kids did¡ªloud, pained, right from their stomachs to their chests and right out of their mouths. ¡°I-I shook his hand. He smiled at me, too.¡±


    ¡°He never shook my hand,¡± I said. ¡°All he did was try and hit me with his giant shield.¡±


    That got a little bit of an odd, strangled giggle from him. ¡°Wh-Why did he do that?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Well, I kinda broke into his house. But it was totally by accident.¡±


    Alex took a moment to respond, and by then, I started hearing noises up ahead¡ªguards telling people to keep it moving. Good. He leaned his head against my shoulder, looking at me sidelong. ¡°Are you scared, too?¡± he asked quietly. ¡°Doesn¡¯t your mom get worried about you?¡±


    That question went right for my chest, catching my breath a little. Ronnie must have been watching on the news, either from the lab or at home. Knowing her, she must be worried sick, trying to call my phone and getting nothing, and then trying to call Dennie to see what he knew.


    I tensed my jaw a little, then nodded, feeling a lump in my throat. ¡°Yeah, she does worry.¡±


    ¡°Then why do you make her scared so many times?¡± he said, wiping snot on his arm.


    We reached a group of people hustling their way down a corridor, with several guards down the end of the hallway. The exit must be near, thank the gods. I slowed, stopped, and gently set us on the ground so I was back kneeling in front of him. I smiled, meeting his eyes. ¡°Because if I stopped doing what I do, then a lot of people are gonna get hurt, so she¡¯s just gotta trust that I¡¯ll be fine. And hell, it hurts sometimes, like that big dumb bear I put down, but that¡¯s just how it is.¡±


    ¡°So¡­¡± He went quiet, looked over his shoulder, then back at me. His lower lip was trembling again, and I swear, my eyes weren¡¯t stinging, too. ¡°T-thank you for saving me.¡±


    Then he hugged me, wrapping his arms around my neck. I wanted to tell him that blood was going to stain his t-shirt and shorts, but I stopped myself, didn¡¯t know what to do for a second, and (reluctantly, by the way, not willingly!) put my arms around him as well. Eventually, I had to let him go as a guard spotted us, then began running toward us, shouting my name repeatedly.


    ¡°Listen,¡± I said to him. ¡°If you ever¡±¡ªI can¡¯t believe I¡¯m doing this¡ª¡°need anything, a place to stay or, like, someone to talk to about anything, then there¡¯s this coffee place in¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not allowed to drink coffee yet,¡± Alex said. ¡°It¡¯s only for grown ups and Supers.¡±


    I chuckled a little. ¡°You¡¯re keeping it together, Alex, and that means you¡¯re pretty freaking super to me, so we can let it slide just this once. It¡¯s called Coffee ¡®n¡¯ Comics. My friend Rylee will be there if you ask the old guy at the front for her. She¡¯s a mess, but she¡¯ll look after you, alright?¡±


    Alex nodded, then shakily stuck out his fist. I bumped him, and the guard was suddenly beside him, checking him over, asking him questions. Alex answered each of them, trying to steel his voice, trying not to cry even if the tears in his voice were threatening to shatter his facade any second now. I watched him get taken away, waved as he looked over his shoulder at me.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t take you for the heartfelt type,¡± Emelia said. She¡¯d been with me for a while, just a little too far out of my hearing to really know where she was running around. She looked ghastly in the hellish light, covered in blood that luckily wasn¡¯t hers. ¡°Looks like you can change, Ry.¡±


    ¡°Stuff it ¡®for I put you through a wall, Sparky,¡± I said, turning around. ¡°Bianca?¡±


    ¡°Outside, I think. The girl wants to save everyone she comes across.¡±


    I began hovering, and she jogged alongside me as I doubled back around. ¡°And what about Victoria?¡± I asked, and as for Harper, well, would it really be a tragedy if she did kick it?


    ¡°She was with B,¡± Em told me, leaping over a splintered bench. ¡°Her powers, though.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I muttered. ¡°It clocked outside. Exactly like Cleopatra¡¯s. You think she¡¯s¡ª¡±


    Em shook her head. ¡°Never had kids, remember? I doubt she even had sex.¡±


    The chances of having an awakening exactly like someone else were slim to none. Common powers were easier to get, but they¡¯d always be different to some extent. Cleopatra could weave light into damn-near anything, but she mostly focused on weaponry. Victoria pulled that trick out of her bag as if she wasn¡¯t going to be making rounds in the news cycle right alongside this god forsaken Kaiju attack. It was amazing that the Olympiad hadn¡¯t gotten to her yet, or maybe she was a Lower Olympus kid, too far in the muck to even be on their radar. But¡­ No, I¡¯d have to keep an eye out on her, because I was a little bit interested in how she managed to stay off my radar. It also meant that another Olympian had a successor around my age, making us four.


    Grant and Michael technically didn¡¯t count, because they weren¡¯t here trying to follow the echoing hiss of monsters coming from the bowels of an increasingly silent shopping complex.


    ¡°Figured out what these freaks want yet?¡± Emelia asked me, getting faster, now blurring the storefronts either side of us. ¡°I fought a few. All a lot more powerful than I last remembered.¡±


    ¡°You last fought them in junior high,¡± I reminded her. ¡°These guys are a lot tougher. Some even heal themselves. They¡¯re like some kind of new breed of Kaiju. Bigger. More dangerous.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a little rusty,¡± she muttered under her breath. ¡°Try to fill me in if you can, Goldie.¡±


    We didn¡¯t have to go too far before the Kaiju did it for us. I heard the sounds of talk coming from just around a corner, and I slowed, telling Emelia to do the same. I hovered, she hid behind the wall, and we both watched a python as large as a semi hiss and slither out strings of twisted English to a man with large antlers sprouting from his head. They were arguing about something, getting more intense. The snake-man veered a little closer, yellow eyes glowing.


    ¡°Not enough time,¡± he said, hissing, obviously. ¡°Too many people getting away.¡±


    ¡°So what? We take what we can and fuck off,¡± Antlers said. ¡°That damned brat is flying around here somewhere. She took out Clint, man. Put her hand right through his goddamned chest!¡± He spat, huffed his wide nose and spewed steam. ¡°This isn¡¯t our game anymore, man.¡±


    ¡°The chancessss she¡¯ss here were supposssed to me ssslim,¡± Snake said.


    ¡°Not none, that¡¯s what the boss said. We deal with her, get her attention, then go.¡±


    ¡°Or we take our chancesss and kill her now.¡± His head turned in one smooth motion toward us, as if only acknowledging us now. His eyes were golden and mesmerizing. His scales glossy and black, squealing against the tiles underneath him as he shifted his body, turning to us.


    We both backed up as he began nearing, opening his jaw wide, wider, as sickly green venom trickled from his fangs. It hissed as it hit concrete, burning tiny holes through it. The plants he passed shriveled, blackened, and the stench was so strong that my tongue nearly did the same.


    ¡°Fought one of them before recently?¡± Emelia asked, purple electricity in her eyes.


    I shook my head. ¡°Just shoot to kill. Go for the spine, they don¡¯t live long without them.¡±


    I flew toward Snake before I could hear any hesitation come from her mouth. Emelia didn¡¯t kill supervillains, she just didn¡¯t have it in her, but we weren¡¯t in middle school anymore, fighting some purse snatcher in some back alley in who-knew-where. This was different, and the reality of that set in as soon as Snake darted toward me, faster than I ever expected him to move. I dodged, whipped around to the right, and got slammed into by his tail. I somersaulted through the air, got my bearings as I slid across the ground, then Antlers decided it was a good time to smash into me.


    He followed after me as I rolled to a stop, got up. I caught his antlers in my hands and buckled under his weight as he steamrolled forward, forcing me against a pillar. He bellowed, raised his fists, and jerked his head suddenly to the right. I let go, then found him barreling toward me, smacking his fist directly into my jaw. His knuckles were tough. The bone thicker. I tasted blood in my mouth, on my lips, as I watched Emelia dodge and run, leap and avoid the venom that Snake was spewing down the corridor. It reeked, burned. Tiny fires began to smolder in clothing stores when it caught the fabrics. Shit, I thought, getting distracted and getting punched again.


    I squared my feet, raised my hands. ¡°What the hell are you guys planning to do?¡±


    He huffed again, lowered, ready to pelt forward. ¡°Fuck¡¯s it matter to you?¡±


    ¡°You assholes just killed a bunch of people,¡± I growled. ¡°So yeah, it matters to me.¡±


    ¡°Just doing my job,¡± he said. ¡°Sorry if you knew ¡®em, but life¡¯s a bitch, hey?¡±


    He charged, and I ducked under his swing. A jab to his side, then to his chin. He huffed, grunted, swung his head around, forcing me to go low and step backward. He didn¡¯t give me a second to breathe, charging right at me, stopping before I could dart away, and catching me with a punch to my gut that I felt through my legs. I gasped, ground my teeth, and slammed my foot into his shin, his side, then doubled up by springing into the air and smashing it against his temples.


    He stumbled backward, shaking his head. One of his eyes was bloodshot. A side of his skull split open. He mewled, a low, groaning sound as he got ready to attack me again.


    Then Emelia¡¯s shriek tore through my hearing like a knife through flesh. I turned, ignoring Antlers, heart in my throat as I watched Snake smack her hard into the side of a massive pillar, and then the gut-twisting sound of her arm snapping in impact echoed loudly through the silence of the complex. She fell onto her side, gasping, staring at her arm. Panic and pain were in her eyes as she looked up at Snake, at the venom pouring from his mouth. She tried to back up, then fell, sliding on the liquid as it burned through her sneakers. She cried out again as it seared her skin, the smell of flesh loud, her screams vile and desperate. Alarm flooded my brain. I was torn back to the Alps for a moment. I almost froze, almost, but then I was shouting, flying, then slamming into Snake.


    I plowed him straight through several storefronts, sending him rolling. I spun around, breathing hard and heavy as Antlers¡¯ eyes grew wide, then narrowed as he charged. I rocketed downward, swept low, then came up with a hook to his jaw. Bone cracked and splintered, blood flinging through the air between us. I grabbed him by the antlers, stepped back, and threw him as hard as I could into Snake as he was beginning to rise again. My body was still burning, still heating. I was breathing harder, harsher, and could hear my heart banging against my temples.


    I flew toward Emelia, still on the ground, cradling her arm. ¡°Fuck,¡± I said, dropping to one knee. ¡°Shit, Em. Okay. Gods, what happened to you? Nevermind. Just get out of here. Go. Now.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    Antlers bellowed. I glanced behind me. Snake towered over him as they emerged from the stores. His jaw was resetting, and they both had a murderous gleam in their hollowed out eyes.


    ¡°Em,¡± I said, my voice panicked. ¡°You¡¯ve got to get up and go. Now. Before they can¡ª¡±


    ¡°I can still help!¡± she shouted, standing, shuddering as her arm swung. ¡°I can still¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not a fucking superhero anymore!¡± I snapped, turning to face them, my back to her. Nothing. She didn¡¯t move. Both of them neared. I looked her dead in the eyes. ¡°Leave. Run!¡±


    Emelia stared at me, her breaths slowing before she looked away and vanished in an explosion of violet electricity. I turned back to look at the two, golden light now streaming off me. I hadn¡¯t felt this kind of heat before. Coming from so deep in my gut that I was sure I was going to catch fire. My fists shook, more with energy than anything, but my jaw was clamped tight, my muscles aching as I worked my mouth open. Gods, I¡¯m going to fucking rip them apart. There was a line that supervillains crossed when they chose their paths in life, but they signed away their will to live the same goddamned second that they so much as looked at anyone I cared about dearly.


    And Gods forbid that they hurt them. And then there wouldn¡¯t be hell to pay.


    It would simply just be where I¡¯d put them for all eternity.


    ¡°What happened to your little friend, the actress?¡± Antlers called. ¡°Not enough CGI¡ª¡±


    I tore right through him, his body exploding in a viscera of blood. His two halves slumped either side of me, and the blood he washed me with began steaming, simmering, and evaporating off of me as I looked up at Snake. I cried out, getting it out from deep in my gut, and launched up toward him. Both my fists slammed into his lower jaw, snapping his mouth shut. I didn¡¯t stop. I put more speed into the next punch, making sure his fangs went right through his mouth and out the bottom, pinning it shut. He mewled, shrieking and cursing, swiping his tail around in ferocious arcs that smashed apart pillars and walkways and sent debris crashing down around us. I dodged, ducked, got peppered with tiny concrete shrapnel as I landed on top of his head and stood upright.


    Then I willed myself to go down, and fast.


    His skull smashed into the concrete, not breaking bone but smashing through our level. We fell into a brief abyss of stone and metal, pipes of water and wires spitting electricity as we landed hard onto the next floor. We were in total darkness, the lights cut off. I glowed a stunning gold, bright enough to cut through the dark, and just as bright as Snake¡¯s eyes as they opened right in front of me. I darted forward, aiming to go through one eye and out the next, my fist raised, rage coming from my mouth. Then his tail swung around and crashed into my ribs. I smashed through a  wall, choked on dust, and willed myself onto my feet, feeling the ground shudder underneath me.


    The floor above us was going to collapse, trapping us both here in the dark. Fine.


    His tail shot out from the dark, wrapped around me in one sudden motion. It dragged me forward, slammed me through pillar after pillar. He was enraged, animal-like. He ripped open his mouth, showering me with burning venom and sticky saliva that reeked of flesh, blood and hate.


    Then he curled around me, tighter and tighter until my arms were pinned to my sides. I tried to move, to buck and kick and even sink my teeth into his scales through desperation.


    Nothing. He only squeezed tighter. My head felt light, then heavy. My light blinked out. My lungs were squeezed dry, and I choked on strangled words and saliva flooding into my mouth.


    ¡°You¡¯ll die here in this pit with me,¡± he snarled. I cried out, feeling hot blood rush into my face. ¡°And when the humans clear the rubble and find your corpse dead in my grasp, they will know that the age of humans and superhumans has come to an end. A new age arises. We will be dominant.¡± He squeezed more, tighter. I felt something give in me, splinter, break. A rib. A sudden sharp pain stabbed into my lung, making me taste blood. ¡°No longer shall we be subhuman.¡±


    ¡°Would¡ª¡± I swore, gasping for air through the pain. ¡°You¡ª¡± I bit into the scales, harder this time, more than desperate and furious, partly terrified of the bus-sized chunks of stone smashing all around us, but more than angry that a fucking Kaiju even had the thought that he could kill the likes of me. ¡°Stop. Fucking. Talking. And just freaking keel over already?!¡±


    I yanked my right arm free, and then plunged it deep into the gash I¡¯d opened.


    Then something strange happened, and I felt a pulse spread from my gut outward. Snake froze, then began to shake, spasm, as a bolt of electricity ripped free from my hand and surged through his body. It was over in seconds, but his now human scream etched itself into my mind as he was burnt from the inside out. His blood stewed and boiled, bursting right through the scars across his body in tiny sprouts of scarlet. He swelled, his body energized, his muscles fattening until they broke right through his scales and shredded his flesh. He was still alive, trying to kill me, trying to squeeze the life out of me, but he was passed the burning and growing faze. He was charing now. Scorching. His meat sizzled, blackened, and his blood turned a dark gooey black.


    He slumped over, a heap of snake skin and bones and blood that stuck to me as I fell onto my chest trying to get away from his smoldering corpse. I gasped, breathed and gasped some more.


    I rolled over onto my back, breathing so hard that my chest began to ache.


    Rubble still fell from above, but less now. The silence was growing.


    I shut my eyes, trying to control my breathing. I was irrationally scared, terrified, because something still felt so terribly wrong. Inside of me. Outside of me. Freaking everything felt so, so wrong to me right that second. I looked at the meaty corpse and the overgrown muscles and tumors and the bones I¡¯d turned into pulpy and ash. Stared at the tendrils of smoke curling off whatever meaty soup oozed out of his body. Gods, that thing was alive just now. And he looked¡­ dead. Dead. More than that, because even dead things were recognizable. Humans. Kaiju. You could get a grip, no matter how scared you were, and could figure out what the heap of flesh was in front of you. But I was sitting upright, staring at the thing I¡¯d left for dead spread out in front of me. Smoke. Sizzle. Burn and stew. Boils of pus and blood spewed open, reeking of hot rot and bile.


    And if I hadn¡¯t been the one to kill him, then I wouldn¡¯t have been able to even guess what he had just been. I stared at him, his remains, and watched as the stones from above plunged into his soft tissue and watery muscle, showering me in tides of blood that seeped into my costume.


    I was still shaking, then I threw up to my right. I wiped it away, staring at my hand.


    Golden sparks spat and vanished from my fingers, the light in my eyes flickering in the blood¡¯s reflection. I shut my hand, tightened my fist. It still shook, trembled, not staying still.


    What the fuck was that? I thought, failing to get up. Get away. How did I just do that?


    It wasn¡¯t my powers that I was afraid of. No, it was how Snake had cried out for his mother and father and brother before his tongue fattened and his skull split at the seams because he was growing and growing and didn¡¯t stop growing until his orifices ripped open and his guts spilled out, and he was writhing, Gods, he had been shrieking, shaking and shaking his head, slamming it into the floor, desperately trying to kill himself as it continued, but all that happened was more growths appeared on him, blooming like fleshy black and red mushrooms all over his entire body, more flesh grew, more blood gushed, and¡­ oh, my Gods, I felt sick again, thinking about it. I felt my gut fly up my throat, hit the roof of my mouth on the way out. I puked to my side until my stomach was empty. The smell down here was ruining my gut, but so was the fact that he¡¯d still been alive as he was in the process of dying. He felt every single volt of that golden electricity. Felt as it coursed through his entire body. I had never seen dad do that before to anyone.


    But it was no wonder, I figured, laying down on my back, listening to the SDU pelt through the complex toward me, because if the humans saw me do it, they¡¯d think I was a monster.


    I wasn¡¯t a monster. I wasn¡¯t a monster.


    Snake died¡ªhad to die¡ªbecause he was a villain. Yeah, that was right. I did that.


    I wanted to laugh, be triumphant, but¡­


    A bright flashlight shone from down above, searched and searched, then found me.


    I raised my bloodied hand to shield my face from the light. Gods above, what am I?

 Interlude 2: The Hunters

    Bianca stumbled through the darkness, her grip still painfully tight on the steel baseball bat. Her phone was in one hand, the flashlight on. It barely cut through the shadows, illuminating just a few feet ahead of her. She walked on the outside of her feet, right on the balls, like Katie had taught her how to do. She stopped before every corner. Crouched and listened as she huddled away in the dark. At some point, she¡¯d gotten separated from the guard, but hey, she¡¯d admit it was her fault.


    Something had told her to keep going, keep searching, to slip out of his watch when he was focused on saving other people. Ben used to call it the Ross Instinct, but that was hokey, because she could feel something wrong down to the marrow of her bones. Her mom always told her not to listen to it, and her dad would chuckle and shake his head, thinking she was just making it up, but it was true, this feeling bubbling in her gut, this sense that there was still something to find in the dark. She didn¡¯t know if anyone was still in the complex. Olympia must still be here somewhere, searching. She nodded, not really knowing if that was reassuring or not. It didn¡¯t matter for now.


    She stood from her crouch, stalking down the corridor. Her breaths were tempered, slow, but her heartbeat betrayed her, banging against her ribcage like some siren. She couldn¡¯t be afraid. Ben wouldn¡¯t have been. He would have been right here with her. Hell, he would have probably beaten a Kaiju half to death with his bare hands if it so much as sneaked up on her. The thought made her smile, made her keep going. She wished she had something more than just a metal bat to use against them, but she couldn¡¯t exactly carry around a gun or a machete, so a bat would have to do, and a whole lot of praying that she was right in following her gut instinct. Bianca hoped that same instinct wouldn¡¯t be the reason she died here. Alone. In the dark. Please can I be right.


    Bianca reached the upper levels of the shopping center and looked over the railing. The ground floor was far, far below her. A fall from up here would kill her. But she leaned over the side, anyway, straining to listen, hearing nothing but the low grumble of fighting and distant Kaiju rumblings. Not what her gut was pointing her toward, then. She turned, then silently startled when she found a midnight black cat staring back at her, its luminous yellow eyes reflecting her phone¡¯s light. It meowed, circled her legs, then bounded away, its silver necklace jingling as it ran.


    And oddly enough, this strange feeling inside of Bianca told her to follow it. She knew it was stupid on some level, but she¡¯d climbed up trees to grab soccer balls for kids in the park before. Bianca knew what stupid was, like running in front of a Kaiju even if she didn¡¯t have any real protection and smashing a baseball bat against its skull. Knew what brash decisions were. And following a cat wasn¡¯t one of them, at least, she hoped it was¡ªit was a good thing the darkness was so heavy, so leering, like it was somehow nighttime outside and the gloom was slowly seeping indoors, so nobody could see her running after a cat that leapt over chairs and stalls, darted into and out of stores. Her breaths became hotter, her muscles straining. She was an athlete, even had a scholarship, but keeping up with a frightened cat that seemed to want to vanish from her was¡ª


    She turned a corner and skidded to a halt, her sneakers squealing on the floor.


    Katie was standing in front of her, a piece of bloodied rebar in her fist. She swore, then put up her hand to block the light. ¡°Turn that damned thing down, superhero,¡± she hissed quietly.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± she whispered, lowering her phone. ¡°Where the hell did you disappear off to?¡±


    Or was Katie the reason she was so deep into the shopping center right now? Bianca didn¡¯t know, and she figured it didn¡¯t really matter. The feeling was starting to dissipate, vanish slowly.


    Katie shrugged. ¡°I was already in here trying to find the bathroom when the Kaiju attacked, then the lights went off, and fu¡­ Hell, it¡¯s been a long, long hour. Why the hell are you here?¡±


    ¡°Long story,¡± Bianca said. Katie tilted her head, and she sighed. ¡°That gut feeling again.¡±


    ¡°Stronger than before?¡±


    Bianca shrugged one shoulder, following Katie as they continued back down the corridor. She couldn¡¯t even hear Katie¡¯s footsteps, was how softly she walked. ¡°Just like the other times.¡±


    Katie¡¯s eyes looked her over in that intrusive, uncomfortable way. ¡°And now?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Kates,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s kinda just gone now. Like it¡¯s turned off.¡±


    Like I¡¯ve got some kind of freaking spider-sense, she thought, feeling a little dumb.


    Katie simply nodded, turning around to keep carving her way through the dark as if she could see just fine. The line of her jaw was sharp, the tattoos peeking out from underneath her collar coiling and long, slithering around her throat. Bianca studied her for a little bit, trying to spot where the blood on the rebar could have gotten on her arms. Her leather jacket was around her waist, and her ripped sleeveless top exposed her toned arms and littering of ink. Nothing. She was clean. Had she fought a Kaiju? No, all Katie knew how to do was kickbox, just like Ben had. Sure, she looked like a bad influence, and she was trying to quit smoking, but killing someone?


    ¡°Hey, Kate?¡± Bianca whispered. ¡°By any chance, did you see a cat pass by you?¡±


    ¡°What? No. Keep quiet for a sec.¡± She slowed her walk, clutched the metal tighter.


    Then she swung the rebar out in front of Bianca, stopping her dead in her tracks. Bianca gripped the metal bat, now high alert, her eyes searching, fear spiking in her bloodstream. Katie said nothing. Only watched the shadows. Probably inhaled that same saccharine stink of burning sugar in the air as Bianca was doing. Did she see something? Someone? Bianca couldn¡¯t tell at all. She¡¯d asked about the cat to ease the lingering tension in the air; it was something Ben used to do, even at their grandfather¡¯s funeral, even when he was getting bad grades in the last few months he was around. Bianca wasn¡¯t as good at it, telling jokes, but she hated tension, hated the seriousness.


    But it was everywhere now, prickling against her skin. She was a superhuman, yes, but when she awakened, instead of a hospitalized occurrence, all she got was a one day flu. She¡¯d stubbed her toe more painful than when it arrived. But it was reassurance, at least a little bit, that she could at least defend herself from a Kaiju, or maybe from some criminal taking their chance.


    A dagger of ice slid down her spine, then Katie shoved her to the wall. Her shoulder smacked against brick, then, seconds later, whistling through the air, a glimmer of metal dug into the floor. Sparks spat up into the dark. Bianca blinked, breathed. What the fuck was that?


    It looked like some kind of dagger. A small knife. She backed away, bat in hand.


    Katie whipped around as two more high pitched whistles cut the air. Metal bit into metal, spitting sparks, as she used the rebar to deflect the daggers. She grabbed Bianca¡¯s wrist, yanking her away, breaking out into a sprint that hurt to follow. She heard footsteps behind her, silent patters against the tiles. Her heart raced, leaping up into her throat. She asked Katie what was going on, what was happening, but she got nothing in response as she led Bianca down a corridor, into a store, out through the other side, stopped, swore, corrected herself, and ran the other way.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°What the hell are we running from?¡± Bianca asked, breaths hot in her throat.


    ¡°Nothing, unless you want to get impaled,¡± Katie hissed.


    Katie only stopped running when they got to the railing, the same railing Bianca had just looked over several minutes before. She wasn¡¯t even panting or breathing hard. Bianca was sweaty, antsy, her blood hot in her veins. Katie looked around, listened for a moment, then took Bianca by the shoulder, quite literally grabbing her attention, making her focus on nothing else.


    ¡°You see the ground floor down there?¡± she asked hurriedly.


    Bianca nodded. ¡°Of course I do. What¡¯s that got to¡ª¡±


    Katie grabbed her side, her arm, then heaved her over the railing. It was sudden, floating for a second, then her gut was flying as she fell and fell fast toward the floor below her. She screamed, panicked, flailed her arms until she grabbed hold of the railing two floors beneath Katie. Her arms jerked. Pain shot through her shoulders. She gritted her teeth and pulled herself over the ledge, swinging her leg over the railing and back onto the cold floor. She panted, cursed. Dragged her forearm across her forehead, trying and failing to stop sweat from dripping into her eyes.


    What the hell was that?! she thought, shakily standing up. I nearly freaky died!


    Then she heard a faint noise, more metal on shrieking metal. Silence from above. Bianca backed away from the ledge. Shit. She¡¯d dropped her bat. Was Katie alright? She didn¡¯t have the time to figure it out. A blurred figure in black landed softly on the railing, cat-like. She couldn¡¯t see their eyes, their face; all she saw was the long, long piece of metal they held in their free hand. Blood was on its edge, dripping off its tip. Bianca¡¯s eyes widened, felt her gut turn into a knot. She kept backing away, one footstep at a time, before a hand darted out from the dark to her right.


    A blade glinted in their hold, cutting its way through the air and toward her throat.


    Her body jerked backward, slamming her against a wall, missing the blade by an inch. Again it jerked, dodging the next stab and slice, her feet moving, her not in control. She swore as her body dived, missing another dagger thrown from the darkness. What the hell, what the hell, what the hell, she thought, her body picking itself up, then turning to run, stopping suddenly when a slim, tall figure pealed out from the darkness ahead, dual blades wielded in their hands, dragging them along the tiles and making this awful, shrieking sound as sparks were vomited into life.


    ¡°Hey, hey!¡± she said, trying to put her arms up to pause them, but finding that her fists were locked in place, her arms no better. ¡°Hold on. If you¡¯re looking for cash, I don¡¯t have any. If¡ª¡±


    The figure pelted forward, as silent as a panther through the jungle. They lunged, blades extended, cutting a clean line through Bianca¡¯s t-shirt as she leaped backward, somersaulting onto her hands, through the air, and onto a low table outside of an empty restaurant. How the hell did I just do that? She was athletic, but not leap-through-the-air athletic. The thought vanished as soon as the sword came cutting back, cutting clean through the wooden table with one sharp swing. She leaped away, rolled on her shoulder, and ran. Ran like hell. But the sounds of shoes were behind her. Closing in. For once in the past minute she agreed with her body, tried to push it onward.


    Until she turned a corner and didn¡¯t stop sprinting toward a ledge.


    She tried to stop her legs from moving. Tried to shout and yell, telling her body to quit it.


    Then she was in the air, pushing off the railing with so much force that she hurtled directly toward a banner hanging in the large open space. Her hands grasped onto thick cloth, sliding with her momentum until her palms burnt. The banner tore, swinging her onto the lower floor. But her body wasn¡¯t done, even though her gut was very, very close to spilling out of her mouth. She grabbed onto the ledge, pushed off, spread her arms and then rolled to a stop on the ground floor. She clattered into chairs and tables, potted plants and signs advertising a new Olympia movie.


    Bianca groaned, getting onto all fours. Her muscles were burning, and so was the base of her neck. She massaged it, then winced at the throbbing pain. ¡°What¡¯s going on with me?¡±


    ¡°Good, you¡¯re here,¡± Katie said, suddenly beside her, scaring Bianca half to death. She took her by the elbow, pulled her to her feet. ¡°Out through the door of the sports section, there¡¯s a fire escape. N.O.F.D are out there helping people escape. Don¡¯t dare stop for anything, got it?¡±


    ¡°No! No I don¡¯t ¡®got it,¡¯¡± Bianca said, grabbing hold of Katie and¡­


    She peeled her hands off Katie¡¯s forearm. Her fingers came back wet and dark.


    Bianca looked up from her hand, looked at Katie¡¯s face for the first time. Blood freckled her jaw, and murder was in her eyes, gleaming dark and sultry. Bianca stepped back, mind racing.


    ¡°What¡¯re you waiting for?¡± Katie snarled. Sounds from above. More were coming. Bianca looked upward¡ªthe one with the swords was standing on the railing, watching from above.


    ¡°K¡ª¡± Bianca was breathing hard, panicked. Blood on her hands. She tried wiping it onto her jeans; didn¡¯t come off, too much, too wet. ¡°Katie, please, just talk to me. What¡¯s going on?¡±


    Her thin eyebrows furrowed. She grabbed her by the jaw painfully, staring into her eyes, then she swore. Maybe. It was in another language. Arabic, maybe. ¡°Of course. Shocked you out.¡±


    Bianca slapped her hand away. She knew she should run, but the figures in black were gathering around them, closing off the exits. Nowhere to run away to. Nowhere to hide. They crouched on the railings, on tables and the stringy wires that crossed the space between floors. They¡¯re like ravens, she thought, her mouth dry as she stared at the one still furthest away. The one that had been just inches from gutting Bianca open from rib to rib. That one stood perfectly still, a shadow cast over their face¡ªno, over the bronze and black mask they wore, covering their face.


    ¡°Listen, B,¡± Katie said, back to her now, pressed against her, protecting. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of shit I was planning on telling you today¡ªsorry for swearing¡ªand I hate that this is how you found out. I wasn¡¯t planning on just hanging out with you today, too, but plans change, I guess.¡±


    Bianca kept her back to Katie¡¯s, now realizing that yes, she¡¯d taught her this, too. Katie taught her how to kickbox, how to grapple. She wasn¡¯t great at either, but it was fun. Bonding. It made her feel like she was getting to know more about Ben by being with someone who almost knew him better than she did. But all these months of running, climbing, lifting weights and being in the gym until late at night with nobody but Katie, was it just some kind of training? Prep? Who were these people trying to kill her? She¡¯d never even jaywalked in her entire life, let alone made people mad enough to try and slaughter her. Was¡­ No. The thought didn¡¯t make any sense to her.


    But¡­ was this what Ben was dealing with in those last few months? In those late nights when he¡¯d park his bike outside and just sit on it, staring into nothing but the shadows around him.


    It almost felt like that day when she wore black all over again, like she didn¡¯t really know anything about him. It had been closed casket, and till this day, a part of her didn¡¯t want to believe that he was in there. That distance, that gap between reality and hope, was pushing her away from the world around her, from Katie, making her feel a little numb, blind, a little bit fucking angry.


    Katie nudged her lower back. ¡°Focus, B. I need you to focus and listen to my voice.¡±


    Bianca¡¯s mouth drew into a thin line as the one far above the rest descended, jumping straight from the top to the ground, barely buckling as they landed in a barely audible thud. They rose, blades extended. She tasted bitter acid in her mouth as she stared into those dark black slits.


    ¡°We¡¯re gonna have to talk, Katie,¡± Bianca said to her, jaw clenching.


    The one with the blades thrusted a sword outward, and then they ran forward.


    Katie grabbed Bianca¡¯s wrist painfully, pulled her close, and then clutched onto the silver necklace laced around her throat. An icy chill engulfed them both from the ground upward, and moments before she felt her body feel lighter, feel like it was floating, her world was encased in wispy darkness. The swords lowered, and the one staring right at her vanished back into the dark, but not before staring at her, unclasping the upper part of her mask to stare at her with black eyes.


    When the darkness vanished, Bianca bounced on her bed and onto her bedroom carpet, smacking her head against a forgotten dumbbell. She cursed, massaged her forehead, and looked around, trying to find Katie, but all she found was a dusting of black fur all over her white carpet.


    That sickly feeling was flooding her veins again, crawling underneath her skin, making her itch with nerves. Something was wrong, very wrong. What the hell am I? she thought, looking at her shaking hands, at the wet blood still brushed over her palm. What was Ben hiding from me?

 Issue #21: Declaration of War

    Days later, and the city was still in limbo after the Kaiju attack on 12th Avenue. The media were calling it a disaster, a terror attack that was gonna shake America to its core, and for once, I agreed with them. I hadn¡¯t kept up with the ticking casualty numbers; hadn¡¯t even bothered to check the missing persons fliers going up around the city, around neighborhoods, flooding social media pages like wildfire. I had tried to help as best as I could, but the city was in shambles, and so was I. I hadn¡¯t slept in three days because of the scale of the attacks. Clearing up the rubble of the shopping complex was the city¡¯s duty, but digging out dead bodies, killing all of the Kaiju still lurking around in back alleys, in office buildings, in homes and sewer lines, had been down to me. There had been looters, tiny riots. Pain in the neck humans trying to grab what they could quickly.


    Most of them ended up getting killed by said stray Kaiju, then it was me they were screaming for when they got trapped inside of an apartment building with a half-spider person.


    I lost count eventually, and at some point, the hatred and anger had bled away. I didn¡¯t want to have it feel like a chore, something a little too similar to mopping the floor at Dennie¡¯s after my shift ended, but Gods, my powers were working overdrive, working on this level I wasn¡¯t fully used to yet. I hadn¡¯t gotten more powerful, but it felt like I¡¯d opened some valve and now it was all gushing out in a torrent I couldn¡¯t quite stop. And it was scary. Terrifying, because there was just so much of it that it felt so un-earned, like I was cheating somehow by getting all this power on a day like that. What used to take several punches now barely took a grazing of my knuckles. They died like, well, animals, some of their bodies blown to pieces. Others painted alleys and offices.


    The worst, though, must have been that lady who spat on me near the fountain.


    She had run, like several of them, into the underground parking of the shopping complex, trying to find shelter and hide from the monsters slaughtering dozens on the surface. It took us a few days to get to them, because Damage Control wouldn¡¯t work with me around them. In the end, we compromised, with me being the first to go down there when they cleared enough rubble. The fire department had done what they could, because the shopping center wasn¡¯t the only attack that happened throughout the city. More chaos. Other half-eaten corpses to pull from the rubble. You understand how it is, then they¡¯d nod their heads at me, grime on their faces, and head off.


    I couldn¡¯t blame them for leaving. The N.O.F.D wasn¡¯t just a regular fire department. Their gear was heavier, able to withstand temperatures that only superhumans could create. They had to be strong, mentally and physically, but they were humans, just humans, and there was only so many bodies you could pull from the rubble, some eaten, some crushed, some still in a death grip clutching a baby they didn¡¯t want to let go of, before something inside of you finally caved in.


    The underground parking had been dark, gloomy, and so sickly sweet to my now more sensitive nose that I had started tearing up. I went in by myself, threatening the Damage Control units to give me some time to search the shadows and the dark and to find where the pungent smell of rot came from. I knew it would get relayed to their bosses, then leaked to the media, then they would talk about me not cooperating with proper law enforcement, but I didn¡¯t care. Not when I started finding bloated human bodies scattered around cars and stairwells, around corners and huddled together in frightened little communities. Their eyes, when I found them, were hollow, bloodshot. The first to reach for my hand had been that woman who started the shouting match.


    And that¡¯s when I¡¯d seen the bulges under her t-shirt. The moving bulges.


    It didn¡¯t take long for them to point me toward the first body to spill open, with bugs oozing out of a hollow stomach cavity, wriggling and squirming, choking on their own acidic digestive bile as they consumed and ate. Fat little larvae feasting on guts and muscle and bone.


    I shuddered thinking about it, and getting that sight out of my head would take a while.


    The dozens in the dark would stay missing from the public until Damage Control and the SDU figured out what to tell everyone. Mercy killings were a thought, because, well, how the fuck did you solve a problem like that? The larvae were huge, bigger than a twelve year old by the time they were bursting from a person¡¯s intestines. But no, they didn¡¯t burst out. They burrowed and ate, chewing through flesh until they were finally out in the open. Fuck. I massaged my eyes, because Damage Control had wanted to see it, study it. And sure, it made sense to learn what happened in case this shit ever happened again, but Gods, I¡¯d had to kill the poor bastard screaming for God and her mother. Nobody, for once, argued with me about killing someone.


    That was a few days ago, and everything since had been a blur. Right now was the first time in days that I could remember sitting down by myself without anything to do. I hadn¡¯t been home since before Em and I went flying and running through the city. I hadn¡¯t washed up since yesterday, but it didn¡¯t matter, because the second I put this gear back on, I¡¯d reek of blood and guts and that stench that Snake had left clinging to my skin. I stank of Wraith, of that burning sugar smell, and it would have been comforting, distracting, if I didn¡¯t have bloody grit under my nails. If every time I listened to the city, I didn¡¯t hear sirens crying throughout the night like scared children.


    Being a superhero was one thing, but seeing things like that, being the person they cried for, even as their breaths reeked of death, of something living inside of them, wasn¡¯t supposed to be part of it. I was meant to save people, not kill a mother in front of her kids because there was something growing inside of her. I saved the city, not contributing to an argument about whether or not we should use dynamite, a controlled destruction, or myself to collapse this entire part of the shopping center and later tell the media that we just couldn¡¯t get into it. I was supposed to save the world, but here I was, covered in innocent blood, because I¡¯d wanted to have fun being free.


    If I¡¯d listened to the news broadcast like I was meant to, taken what Emelia had said with more seriousness rather than just a blind, half-baked promise, then a lot more people could be alive.


    Instead, all I wanted was to be Rylee again. Hold Bianca¡¯s hands again. Be normal again.


    I cursed myself out quietly, the wind atop this billboard I sat on pulling the words away.


    Maybe I couldn¡¯t have stopped all the attacks. Maybe the attacks happening around the city at similar times could have been stopped, or made less worse, or¡­ I leaned forward and dug my fingernails into my head, trying to fight the banging headache. A superhero, that¡¯s what I was, and as the city was about to get turned around, as the Kaiju Society was gathering, plotting, stewing together plans so sick that I was forced to swallow vomit just now, I had been arguing about high school bullies with a girl who thought she¡¯d fallen in love with a superhero. It sounded so fucking stupid now. A waste of my time. Mom kicked me out of the house because I¡¯d given up on being Rylee. I wasn¡¯t going to go to college, killing her dreams for me. I was going to be a superhero.


    And were you watching, Ronnie, as I saved the city? I bet you did. I bet you were proud.


    Just not quite there yet. A little bit more, Ry, and you¡¯ll be there eventually. A bit more. More focus. More strength. And less Rylee. Less silly little human love spats every waking hour.


    It didn¡¯t sit right with me, thinking about getting my own statue. Not right now.


    A soft sound beeped beside me, and I glanced at my earpiece. I¡¯d set it aside, wanting some down time. I stared at it, listened to it beep, afraid that there would be something new I would have to deal with soon. I put it in, pressed it and accepted the call, bracing myself for more bad news.


    ¡°Hey, Ry,¡± Lucas said, his baritone a little watered down. Wary. Tired. ¡°Busy?¡±


    I leaned my against the billboard. ¡°Clocked in for the night shift. Something new?¡±


    ¡°When isn¡¯t there?¡± he muttered. ¡°Just a friendly this time. No command. No news.¡±


    I shut my eyes, nodded. ¡°Been one hell of a rough week. I¡¯ve seen shit, Lucas. I¡¯ve seen stuff before, but those were supervillains, so who cares? These were normal people who got¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know, kid. I know.¡± His voice was gentle, and a part of me guessed that he must have had this talk with his sidekicks in the past. ¡°And it¡¯s hard for me to tell you to push it all down.¡±


    I chuckled dryly. ¡°I doubt I¡¯d even bother listening to whatever you¡¯ve got to say, then.¡±


    He laughed a little, husky and also dry. We sat in silence for a moment, then he said, ¡°You know, things were never this bad, even when I was active on the scene. Complicated, harsh, but this is plain in our faces now and all over the city. Lower Olympus was yesterday¡¯s problem.¡±


    I wanted to change the topic a little, but still, I asked, ¡°How was it back then?¡±


    Lucas rarely ever talked about the Golden Age, despite being one of the names that would stop any supervillain dead in their tracks. The Olympians never had a trifecta. Each one of them was a bastion, this pillar of justice that would snuff evil out before it even had the chance to ignite. Dad, Cleopatra, Heka himself, Shrike and Void, Poseidon later on and who could forget Ares and Miss Mars? Even just thinking about it brought a weak smile to my face. I wasn¡¯t close to dad¡¯s statue, or the memorial sphere that each of the fallen Olympian¡¯s held over their heads as a way to remember what they did for everyone on the planet the day Titan tried to end it all for the humans.


    But despite the amount of times I asked, Lucas always got quiet, distant, like the way he was right now in my ear. I guessed I couldn¡¯t really blame him. Losing everyone you knew in the span of a single day would stop me in my tracks, too. Hell, thinking about Emelia, seeing the pain in her eyes, hearing it in her voice, still got to me. Still made me sick and angry on some level.


    Lucas sighed for a moment, and I thought he wouldn¡¯t say anything, until he cleared his throat. ¡°It was wonderful, Ry. You¡¯ve never experienced it, but going into hell knowing the person beside you is just as powerful, if not more, than the person you¡¯re trying to put down, is a feeling you just can¡¯t find anywhere else. You¡¯re teammates to the media. Best friends to the kids who watch whatever tv shows they made about us back then. In truth, we¡¯re all we had to each other.¡±


    Silence, and I let him have that silence for once instead of running my mouth.


    ¡°We fought the Chaos Legion and won, even though Nemiza, that crafty little witch, wouldn¡¯t just give up for once,¡± he said, chuckling softly. ¡°We fought the Night Watch and the Nocturne. Took down governments, kid, all before the meatloaf got cold for dinner. Our problems were¡­ different, but we handled them easier because there were more of us. Your generation is you and a couple of other people dressing up at night and beating up purse snatchers. You get the occasional somebody who makes a name for themselves, then a thug gets a lucky shot and puts one between their eyes. At this point, for everyone in the world, you¡¯re all we¡¯ve really got, Ry.¡±


    I listened as he spoke, watching as the sun slowly hid itself behind the watery horizon, casting one more orange glow over the city. The sounds of cars and horns, of people shouting at each other or calling names, birds fluttering, music playing¡­ I shut my eyes, and heard all of it. New Olympus was huge, growing, as wide as it was tall, and it would only get wider, and taller, and more shiny and glimmering as time went on, but it didn¡¯t feel like that right now. It felt like we were all pretending. Like everything we knew was slowly going away and we were all too afraid to acknowledge what was going on just down the street in the alleyways of Lower Olympus.


    I doubted this city had ever been perfect, even when dad was still around.


    But it could still be a lot better off than it was doing right now.


    ¡°And how was that?¡± I asked quietly. ¡°Working with people who would die for you?¡±


    ¡°It made us feel invincible,¡± Lucas said, his words trailing. ¡°Like we¡¯d never die.¡±


    I¡¯d never considered working with people. Grant had begged Olympia¡ªnot me, he didn¡¯t know it was me in the costume¡ªto join his team when being a superhero was still his dream.


    And I entertained it for a while, teased it, and stayed up late at night thinking about it.


    But dreams died hard when they slammed into cold black stone. I couldn¡¯t figure out how someone would go about dealing with disappointing their teammates. If I screwed up, I¡¯d have nobody but myself to blame. I didn¡¯t like pointing fingers, because I had the powers (right?), had all this strength that I was so damned proud of, this heritage and legacy that quite literally was the reason New Olympus existed as it did today, so if someone died, then that was blood on my hands.


    Just like the city, which was bleeding because I hadn¡¯t taken it seriously enough. I could sulk all I wanted, be so tired I was a walking-flying corpse, but tough¡ªthat was just how it was.


    I just wished that¡­ I don¡¯t know.I couldn¡¯t think about the future right now. Problems to deal with here and now, and maybe one day I¡¯ll sit back and tell my own prodigy about the past.


    But I¡¯ll have to make sure there¡¯s a city for me to sit back in and tell stories about first.


    I breathed in, a deep breath that filled my lungs, and sighed through my teeth. ¡°You know,¡± I said to him, finally. ¡°You might not talk a lot, but you do know when to give a damned speech.¡±


    I could almost see his tempered smile from here. ¡°Blame Ares. He loved a good talk.¡±


    Quiet. Pause. Then I asked, ¡°Nothing¡¯s going to get easier for a while, is it?¡±


    ¡°Well, superstar,¡± Lucas said, sighing. ¡°Remember what I told you a few years ago?¡±


    It¡¯ll get easy when you¡¯re dead, he¡¯d said, which had been one hell of a line to tell a sixteen year old. But at the time, I¡¯d needed to hear it, because I¡¯d fucked up, fucked up really, really bad.


    It was a good thing, I guessed, standing up, that I wasn¡¯t planning on kicking it yet. Who knows, maybe I¡¯d make it to the end of spring break without putting myself in the ground first.


    ¡°I hate to admit it, old man, but I needed something to get me up,¡± I muttered, stretching my arms over my head and getting hit with a whiff of super-sweat. ¡°I¡¯ve got a bit of a question.¡±


    ¡°Anything,¡± he said. ¡°As long as it¡¯s not something I¡¯m not¡­ aptly equipped for.¡±


    I smiled, remembering the time I¡¯d needed a certain something to stop myself from ruining my costume. But for a man who didn¡¯t have any superpowers and stood beside Zeus no less of a man, who had fought alongside people powerful enough to carve mountains right in half, watching him go bright red because I needed to grab a tampon quickly had only been just a little bit funny.


    Now that I thought about it, Lucas had been the one to try and talk to me about how girl hormones worked here on earth. Mom had to step in and shoo him away, told him to go make tea for the both of us and find a sport to watch on the tv as she had the oh, so enjoyable talk with me.


    I knew he was probably trying to distract me, to get the edge off a little by making me think about simpler times when things made sense, and I appreciated him for that. Loved him for that.


    But if anyone asked, I hated the old geezer just as much as anyone, got it?


    ¡°Nothing ¡®bout that,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s about my powers. About dad and his powers, too.¡±


    And just like that, the seriousness in his voice was back. ¡°What about them?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re¡­ more,¡± I said, trying to explain. ¡°It sounds strange, I know, because normal superhumans don¡¯t get more powerful than when they first awaken, but they¡¯ve been on overdrive lately. I even killed this one Kaiju with nothing but my electricity, Lucas. I¡¯ve never done that before. The best I could do was shock someone awake with a tiny jolt from my index finger.¡±


    He was silent, as he usually was, then he said, ¡°Your old man rarely ever spoke about his powers, kid, and when he did, he never told us much about how exactly they worked. Secrets, all the time, no matter how hard I tried to get them out of him. There was no budging from your dad.¡±


    I massaged my eyes. ¡°Does that happen, then? Like, I don¡¯t know, a second awakening?¡±


    ¡°Never heard of one,¡± he answered. ¡°Conspiracies and hacks, but nothing concrete.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± I muttered. ¡°I think the only bet I have now is to ask my mom about it.¡±


    ¡°Do you feel any different?¡± he asked. ¡°And what triggered the change?¡±


    I could hear his old commanding tone coming back in. Beating on humans got them to talk, but scaring superhumans to their core was mostly the only other way for a normal person to do so.


    ¡°I feel pretty much the same,¡± I said, walking along the billboard grates and back again. ¡°But whenever I touch something, I¡¯ve got to pull back a little. It kinda feels like when you¡¯ve just worked out, and your muscles are all a little bigger, but it¡¯s all the time, all day, every single day.¡± I shrugged, even though he couldn¡¯t see it. ¡°And like I said, it just happened when I fought Snake.¡±


    ¡°Creative name,¡± he muttered, continuing. ¡°Have you been using your powers a lot more recently? Through the night, just around the house when you¡¯re minding your own business?¡±


    I thought for a moment. ¡°Yeah, actually. On and off, though.¡±


    He hummed in thought. ¡°If it¡¯s like a muscle, I guess you might be over-extending it. Listen, I¡¯m figuring out your powers just as much as you are, and we haven¡¯t had a breakthrough ever since you learnt how to fly and carry people at the same time. But I figure that making you strain them, actually strain them for once, has pushed you to a new level. That, or you¡¯re gonna hurt yourself if you keep pushing it. We can only really tell if you keep going, but slow down a little just in case, Ry. The last thing anyone needs right now is for Olympia to be out of action.¡±


    ¡°Afraid that I can¡¯t slow down now, Lucas,¡± I said. ¡°An entire city to save, remember?¡±


    ¡°Then let¡¯s hope that you don¡¯t lose your powers before that happens.¡±


    I paused, freezing in place. ¡°Hold on, you¡¯re saying I can lose my¡ª¡±


    ¡°Listen, Ry, I¡¯ve got to go. I¡¯ll talk to you soon. If you need me: ring. Stay safe, kiddo.¡±


    He cut before I could ask him more questions, like the most important question being what would happen to my body if my powers just stopped working. And I thought getting a power up (don¡¯t look at me like that, I didn¡¯t know what else to call it) would be a good thing. It turns out that it might be the opposite, but I guessed we¡¯d find out, because Lucas¡¯ guess was as good as any. Maybe I was just more powerful now, finally scaling up toward what dad had been when he was alive. Maybe I had broken through some kind of subliminal mental barrier when I fought Snake, just like all the other great superheroes did in the comics. Or maybe I was just hitting puberty again at the ripe old age of eighteen, and this was just one of the things that happened.


    I could just go back home and ask mom more questions about my physiology, about what was really going on underneath my skin and through my blood, but not after the week I¡¯d had.


    Either way, I had things to do, like answering a call coming through my earpiece.


    ¡°Rylee,¡± Ava said. It was a shock to the system; a hot poker against my skin. ¡°Here. Now.¡±


    Needless to say, I was irritated with having to deal with supervillain nonsense at a time like this when the city needed a lot more superheroing rather than a touch more villainy. Lucas had said Lower Olympus was yesterday¡¯s problem, but my problems tended not to care about days.


    Flying through the thicker, more smoke-tinged air was like putting on an old pair of shoes and finding out they still fit. But the smoke flooding my nose was fresher, more acrid, rising in wispy, lazy pillars climbing high into the sky. I was in full Tempest gear, hair dye still so fresh it dripped down my neck. Ava had sounded urgent, even angry, but I took a few minutes to fly over the lower east end, over the sludge covered river and the kids playing in the muck around it. Over abandoned apartment buildings and factories belching smoke. Two guys on a smoke break pointed and gave me a two fingered salute. I gave them one back, later hearing laughter from them.


    But the destruction around this part of the city was clear. So clear that I was a little pissed off that the news cycle had barely mentioned it. Entire blocks had gone up in smoke. Rubble littered streets, clogging traffic. It was a disaster zone, nearly as bad as the upper west, but I couldn¡¯t compare destruction on this scale. The Kaiju had attacked the entire city, not just the rich folk. The islands connected by the Athena Bridge must have been the only ones not affected by the attack. Still, this place was getting worse. A sore spot that was getting harder to ignore. I hated to admit it, but getting someone in charge of this part of the city was starting to make a lot more sense.


    Either that, or I had to do something about it pretty freaking quickly.


    I flew a little lower, pulling back my powers and making the light fade from my eyes. I felt the tightening of my muscles begin to strain my skeleton. Skimming rooftops and over alleyways, past windows that people quickly pulled curtains over. Night was falling just as quickly as I was getting here, but the curfew was a joke, and the White Capes around these parts were having a riot (not literally, but sometimes literally) by throwing old couches and furniture and piles of wood together and dousing them in gasoline. Bonfires lit Lower Olympus in a sickly orange blaze. Their chanting was sickly, ghoulish, and their faces were made hollow by the fire they danced around.


    The things they were burning must have come from Kaiju apartments. I pressed my lips together, not really knowing how I was supposed to feel about that, but after what I¡¯d seen, I wouldn¡¯t stop them for now. Just as long as they didn¡¯t start stringing them up from lamp posts like the more extreme White Capes had a fetish for from time to time. What Ava said was true: they were starting to become more of a nuisance, and I¡¯d have to come up with a plan for them later.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    I landed outside the Golden Guild, my new pair of boots crunching against rubble and broken glass. It looked like it had been through hell. An entire pillar out front was missing, and I could still smell the stink of smoke coming off charred black bricks on one face of the building. Craters littered the boulevard toward it, more than last time, and there were a lot less people wandering around at this time of night. I knocked on the door, waited for Dumbo to open it for me whilst I looked around. Saying that I must have missed something was a hell of an understatement.


    It looks like there was an entire freaking war going on for the past week, I thought.


    I heard movement coming from the surrounding rooftops. I glanced upward and saw a mercenary with her sniper barrel pointed right at me. I waved at her, and she lowered it, pressed her ear, then slipped back into the shadows. The door to the large hotel shuddered open, throwing dust down from the ceiling that went right down my throat. I coughed, waving a hand in front of my face to shoo the dust away as I entered. Dumbo looked badly off, with bruises and fleshy scars crossing his arms and back and chest. Once he shut the door, he slumped down in front of it. His radio was off, his large meaty hands gingerly touching the fresh, bloody scars across his forearms.


    The casino hall was empty, silent, except for a few mercenaries smoking cigarettes and playing a game of half-hearted poker. They looked at me, not exactly smiling as I flew past.


    The mood, as you must have guessed, was sour, hanging in the air like spoiled fruit.


    I flew toward the elevators, and found even more mercs clearing rubble away from the lone shaft that had been working last time. One of them didn¡¯t even look at me as he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the grand winding staircase that spiraled up toward the executive suites. I offered to help them, but they grunted, waved me away, and I took the hint when a few of them narrowed their eyes at me from just beneath their brows. Pissed off, I thought. Then I must have missed something more than just a little big, or maybe it wasn¡¯t directed at me specifically, but at the people who were inside of those executive suites whilst they slaved away downstairs.


    I left them to their clean up, hearing them mutter curses under their heavy breathing.


    The upper suites were surprisingly clean compared to the ground floors. I couldn¡¯t even imagine what the armored basement must have looked like. The carpet here was clean, almost fresh, as if it had been vacuumed recently. Lucifer must have reinforced the VIP rooms a little more for his wealthier guests. The lights were on, glowing softly, making the cream-colored walls stand out against the freckles of dried blood that were scattered over vases and paintings. I passed several empty bedrooms, all looking lived in and messy. Beds not made. Towels and take away on night stands and on the floor. There was a lovers'' suite, too, and I figured Ace and Damsel had been in here recently, but I wasn¡¯t the type to check. I continued down the hallway, lost in the luxury, following the sound of muffled voices coming through thick wooden doors at the end of the corridor. I didn¡¯t know what to expect, but there was arguing, shouting, and maybe some spite.


    Just everything I needed right now: gang warfare led by some girl who was trying to be something she clearly wasn¡¯t. The mole had screwed over our plans last¡­ No, not last night, nearly last week. I shook my head, trying to get the cloud of fuzz between my ears to leave.


    I knocked on the door, and I heard someone mutter several swear words.


    O¡¯Reiley¡¯s face was the first I saw when the door was pulled open, and I involuntarily sucked air through my teeth at the exhausted sight of him. ¡°Nice to finally have you around.¡±


    The office space was magnificently huge. Floor to ceiling windows looking over the ocean, partly blinded by heavy scarlet curtains. A painting of Lucifer sitting in the same exact seat that Ava was in loomed above her, except he filled out the large leather chair, where she looked like she was sitting somewhere only the grown ups should be. The desk in front of her was littered with papers, maps, and several empty coffee mugs, as well as a pistol with a magazine beside it. To my right, a small sitting area (I say small, but my entire apartment would have fit right on the carpet between couches) held Damsel and Ace, the merc woman from before, and Knuckles, too.


    Mr. Campbell was standing beside Ava, down to nothing but a sweaty waist coat.


    Witchling wasn¡¯t in the room with us.


    The news was on, showing a broadcast that wasn¡¯t anywhere near as popular as Olympus News. But it showed a bird¡¯s eye view of Lower Olympus, playing back footage of the recent attacks. The reporter was wearing a bulletproof vest, and stood in front of a destroyed hospital. I turned from Ava for a second, watching as the reporter mustered up the strength to start talking.


    ¡°Yes, Julia, I¡¯m here outside the remains of the Grayson Hospital building, and¡­¡± He paused for a moment, and then cleared his throat. ¡°As you can see, it still remains in ruin. Some brave helpers have tried to clear the debris and help others search for loved ones, but¡­¡± He shook his head, then looked dead in the camera. ¡°Lower Olympus needs help. It is dying, and everyone in the upper west side isn¡¯t even watching as it happens, and yes, I know that there were attacks there, too, but Mayor Blackwood, Cassie Blackwood, anyone who can help, please, there are people on these streets who need food and clean water, who need shelter and safety from¡ª¡±


    ¡°Would you turn that off?¡± Ava muttered, massaging her eyes.


    ¡°Wait,¡± I said, before Knuckles could reach for the remote. She looked surprised to see me, her eyes widening. She still wore the black metal ski mask around her mouth, and wasn¡¯t wearing any of her gear. Knuckles looked at Ava, then back at me. ¡°I said keep it on for a second, alright?¡±


    ¡°¡ªis not like the rest of Lower Olympus,¡± he was saying. ¡°This destruction will linger. This rubble will litter our roads and clog our drains. People will starve without help, urgent help.¡±


    ¡°Ruslana,¡± Ava said quietly, staring at Knuckles. ¡°Turn it off, and let¡¯s start the meeting.¡±


    I walked closer to the tv, staring at the man waving his hand behind him at the chaos.


    The reporter¡¯s eyes were starting to get wet, his words hurried and jumbled. ¡°Olympia,¡± he said into the microphone. ¡°Whether you¡¯re watching this or not, please don¡¯t forget about us. New Olympus needs its heroes, not only where the cameras are, not just where people are watching, but everywhere, here on the streets, in the homes. I know and understand that you¡¯re busy, that you help as many people as you can without hesitation, but please, dear God, don¡¯t you see what¡¯s¡ª¡±


    Ava stood. ¡°Turn it off, Ruslana, because you don¡¯t take orders from her.¡±


    I looked at Knuckles. ¡°Keep it on, ¡®cause I¡¯ll just turn it back on myself.¡±


    ¡°We need a hero, anyone, powered or not,¡± he whispered. ¡°Our people need saving.¡±


    ¡°K-42,¡± Ava said measuredly. ¡°For once, just do as you¡¯re told.¡±


    Knuckles turned off the television without a second of hesitation. Something hung in the air between them, between everyone, as I turned to look at Ava. She wasn¡¯t looking at Knuckles, but at me, as if challenging me on some kind of personal grounds. The others watched, the closest being O¡¯Reiley, a cigarette in his mouth and steely eyes watching me from a thousand miles away. I wanted to do something, say something, but I swallowed my tongue and folded my arms, staying quiet for my sake more than anything else. I hated the way she just spoke to Knuckles, I¡¯ll admit.


    But if I said something, then my guess was that Ava would go straight for the one thing she held dangling over my head. Too many threats right now to test her with that kind of information.


    So all I could really do for now was dig my fingernails into my bicep that little bit more.


    ¡°Good. Thank you,¡± she said, smoothing her shirt. She put out a hand, and Mr. Campbell quickly put a folder on her palm, saying nothing, not meeting anyone¡¯s eyes. ¡°Now that everyone is here, finally, and since this is the first time in days that we¡¯re all able to meet, I¡¯d like to go over a few things that have been less than satisfactory, not just here, but in Lower Olympus as a whole.¡±


    I sat on the armrest of Knuckles¡¯ seat, then said, ¡°Fill me in on what happened here first.¡±


    ¡°We got fucked,¡± O¡¯Reiley muttered, his voice low. The bags underneath his eyes were black, the soot and grit on his face not much brighter. ¡°Attacked right in our own damned HQ.¡±


    ¡°The good ol¡¯ caught with our pants around our legs,¡± Ace added. He looked at me, slyly jerking a thumb at Ava and quietly adding: ¡°She lost her cool and didn¡¯t know what to do.¡±


    Shocking, I know, that I wasn¡¯t all that surprised. ¡°Kaiju attacked down here, too? I thought you guys had the entire street locked down. How the hell did they manage to do that?¡±


    ¡°Ask the puppy sulkin¡¯ in the corner, love,¡± Damsel muttered.


    ¡°Mr. Campbell was with me during the attack,¡± Ava said. ¡°Besides, he¡¯s not involved with the Kaiju Society, so I don¡¯t really know why arguing about it right now will do us any good.¡±


    ¡°Safer than sorry,¡± I said, shrugging. Her eyes narrowed at me. ¡°I¡¯ve been busy dealing with the mess they¡¯ve been causing, so you can¡¯t really blame me if I don¡¯t trust your little dog.¡±


    Mr. Campbell flinched, and I would have felt bad some other time, but I hadn¡¯t come across a stray pack of dogs just like him fighting over a half-dead woman in an alley just to turn a blind eye to them. Yeah, yeah, I knew they weren¡¯t all bad, but I didn¡¯t discriminate against evil; superhumans, humans, Kaiju and everything and everyone in between would get a fist through their mouth eventually if my week continued the way it had been going so far, believe me on that.


    ¡°What did the Society want, anyway?¡± Ace asked. ¡°We¡¯ve got nothin¡¯ for ¡®em over here, unless they want guns, ammo, some fuckin¡¯ Chinese takeout and whatever the hell Witchling is always brewing in her bedroom. But the last time I checked, dogs don¡¯t really need pistols to kill.¡±


    ¡°Mama always said if a dog bites ya, put one through it,¡± Damsel murmured.


    ¡°Hicks,¡± the merc woman muttered. ¡°Gotta love ¡®em.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the same reason that they attacked 12th Avenue, Grayson Hospital, the harbor, the boardwalk,¡± O¡¯Reiley said, ¡°the municipal building in the upper west, some preschool just a few blocks from here. There isn¡¯t any reason because they didn¡¯t want to make it obvious. If they hit depots and warehouses alone, then sure, that would make it easy, but they planned these attacks, coordinated these goddamned attacks, because they knew that we weren¡¯t going to be ready.¡±


    He looked at Ava, then pointed at her with his cigarette. ¡°That¡¯s what your little document says, doesn¡¯t it? We got hit because you didn¡¯t expect to get attacked a few hours after the dock.¡±


    The merc woman¡ªI¡¯d call her Jane, she looked like a Jane with that rugged scar on her face¡ªleaned back on the sofa and put her boots up onto the table. Her assault rifle was nestled on her lap, like some child she wouldn¡¯t let go of. ¡°The Triumvirate,¡± she said plainly. O¡¯Reiley nodded for her to continue. ¡°They know that Lucian isn¡¯t the one in the driver¡¯s seat anymore.¡±


    ¡°And that means they wanted to teach you some kind of lesson,¡± I said to her.


    ¡°The battle doesn¡¯t stop just ¡®cause everybody¡¯s gone home,¡± Ace added.


    ¡°Blame can only go so far when you have people with experience telling me what I did wrong when they were the ones who were here when the attack began,¡± she said, clear as crystal. Ava tilted her head at me, her glare piercing. ¡°And as for you: where were you when I called?¡±


    I shrugged one shoulder. ¡°I was busy dealing with my own things.¡±


    ¡°The last time I checked, ¡®your own things¡¯ encompass what the Jericho Triad has planned,¡± she said. Ava set the file onto her desk, then opened it and plucked a piece of paper out of it. ¡°Twenty of our warehouses just got ransacked when you were all, from what I can only presume you were doing, sitting around with your thumbs up your asses. Our stock is significantly depleted. Our resources are now a fraction of what they once were.¡± Ava placed her hands on the table and looked at everyone with eyes she was starting to grow into; eyes Lucian had worn proudly. ¡°As I was meeting with the White Capes, as I was figuring out how to strengthen our network around this part of the city, trying to at least create a system that¡¯ll for once work for us against the Triumvirate, the next thing I find out is that we¡¯ve been crippled because of unbridled incompetence that could have been mitigated if a single one of you had the capacity to just think.¡±


    Ava walked around her desk, now standing right underneath the faint light coming off the chandelier above her. It casted a slight shadow over her eyes, whether she knew it or not. ¡°We have a mission, a goal, and so far, it feels as if the people in this room aren¡¯t too focused on it.¡±


    ¡°You know,¡± I said, barging against the growing, bitter silence. ¡°You¡¯re the one in charge.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I am,¡± she said dryly. ¡°And you¡¯re all capable of independent thought, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Oh, I didn¡¯t like her tone at all, less than I had last time. And maybe, once upon a time, I would have snapped her neck or painted her across this lovely little office space, and I really, really wanted to do that, but the problems just beyond those leering windows were bigger than the arguments happening in here. People were hurting right this second as we argued and bickered and threw words at each other, and the longer this went on, the more time I felt that I could be doing something useful slipped through my fingers. Whatever, I thought. She¡¯ll get what¡¯s coming to her.


    Learning that we had lost that much in the attack, though, wasn¡¯t something that had been on my bingo card. The Triumvirate knew we would be weak right after trying to get those crates off that Aegis Tech cargo ship, and they had the resources to spare to throw another attack on us when we were still licking our wounds. They got away with at least one truck full of special grade rifles and whatever that powdered drug had been, and now they were swimming in even more assault rifles and ammunition, defensive armory and who knows what else Ava had in store.


    It was starting to feel like I was fighting a wildfire that didn¡¯t know when to quit.


    ¡°But why so many attacks?¡± Jane asked. ¡°Unrelated attacks, like at the preschool.¡±


    Ava waved her hand through the air. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe the Triumvirate wanted the SDU and Olympia distracted when they were hitting key parts of the city. Lost in the confusion.¡±


    I heard the accusation sitting on her tongue, but she hardly took a glance at me.


    ¡°Are we sure that it is the Triumvirate?¡± Mr. Campbell said. We looked at him, and the half-dog man seemed to shrink a little. ¡°Our enemies seem to be getting more plentiful recently.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°My guess is that it is. When they started popping up ¡®round where I was¡ª¡±


    ¡°And where exactly were you?¡± Ace asked me. ¡°We coulda used your help, you know.¡±


    ¡°Like I said, I was busy doing my own thing,¡± I answered him plainly. ¡°But like I was saying, those Kaiju appearing all over the city? My guess is that a lot of people didn¡¯t notice ¡®em because Wraith was using his powers to transport them all over the place. This was planned.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Ace said, pulling his arm away from Damsel and looking at me. ¡°Wraith?¡±


    ¡°Know the guy?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never even heard of the guy.¡±


    ¡°Tempest and myself came across him during our pursuit of the Aegis cargo,¡± Knuckles said, finally breaking her silence. She sat stiffly on the couch, as if she wasn¡¯t used to sitting on something soft for so long. ¡°He is able to control darkness, or some facet of it. I presume he feeds off living beings by way of his shadows, as well as transports himself and others through them.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± O¡¯Reiley said, rubbing his eyes. ¡°Even more superhumans to deal with.¡±


    My thoughts exactly, soldier.


    ¡°And you¡¯re certain he works for the Triumvirate?¡± Ava asked me, ignoring Knuckles.


    I shrugged. ¡°Pretty damned sure.¡±


    Damsel said, ¡°What if, say, his shadows appear in this room right now. What happens?¡±


    That¡¯s a good point. ¡°I don¡¯t really know what would happen. Maybe he can only make shadows appear if he¡¯s close, or maybe he can do it if he¡¯s had a good look at the place from afar.¡±


    ¡°Latter,¡± O¡¯Reiley said. ¡°Surveillance, most likely. Monitors that screen wherever it is that the Triumvirate wants to get hit, and he focuses on that. It¡¯s the only way his powers make sense.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll need the entire guild swept through again,¡± Ava muttered, biting her thumb nail. ¡°Bugs, cameras, the whole lot. I can¡¯t have anything like this happen again. It was a show of force, a warning. They want to scare us, because now they have our weapons, our gear, and can send monsters wherever they want in the entire city in a second¡¯s notice. Before we know it, they¡¯ll be sending them not just on our doorstep, but right under our noses.¡± She slowly paced, her dad¡¯s portrait watching her from behind the hand he had over his mouth and just underneath his nose. ¡°If we hide for too long, they¡¯ll just hit us again, probably a lot harder than before. They want us out.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like the way she¡¯s talkin¡¯, hun,¡± Ace said to Damsel. ¡°She¡¯s planning something.¡±


    And the last time she came up with a plan, the dock incident happened, and I went flying across half of Lower Olympus and through a freaking building. So, for once, I was on Ace¡¯s side.


    ¡°I suggest we take a small hit squad,¡± O¡¯Reiley said, snuffing his cigarette on her carpet. Avs noticed as he stepped on the sizzling end, eyes flickering up and down, quiet anger on her face. ¡°No more than around six of us. We pierce right through something they don¡¯t want us getting at any time soon. We make it seem like a bigger force than it actually is. We hit fast, and we hit them hard, and we leave before they can retaliate, hopefully with more of them dead than us.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯ll that do to shake their confidence?¡± I asked. ¡°They¡¯ve already got one on us.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°It¡¯s about the message it sends. If we wipe out one of their warehouses, one of their depots, or any of their strongholds, then it shows that we aren¡¯t down and out just yet, kid.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡± My brows furrowed, my mouth soured a little. ¡°That¡¯ll spark something. A war.¡±


    Silence, then he quietly said, ¡°Yeah, maybe, but there¡¯s no other choice now, Tempest.¡±


    The last thing Lower Olympus needs right now is to become a battlefield.


    ¡°They took from us knowing we couldn¡¯t retaliate immediately,¡± Ava added. ¡°They stole our goods and spat in our faces by attacking us on home turf. They don¡¯t see us as a threat.¡±


    ¡°They see us as vermin that they just need to get rid of,¡± Jane spat, rifle in her arms.


    I stood up. ¡°Can¡¯t we just, I don¡¯t know, hit them where it hurts? We got a few of those special grade rifles. We can use those on their home turf. Push them back into their little hole.¡±


    Ava folded her arms and leaned against her desk. ¡°And do you know where that is?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said, spreading my arms. ¡°But we could go out there and find it. You have your little informant running around somewhere. Just send them to go and search for their main base.¡±


    ¡°And what do you propose we do until then?¡± Ava asked me, curious, testing.


    I waved my hand at the tv. ¡°Go and help people in need. We can wrestle in the shit all we want with the Triumvirate, but if we got some food and water to some people, maybe kill a few bad apples walking around the streets that are making it hell for the civies, then maybe we could get some kinda grip on LO. We get their support, they¡¯ll tell us more, and we won''t start a war. You wanted a stronger network, right? Then let¡¯s build it with the people actually on the ground.¡±


    If the silence had been loud before, it was deafening now. Every single pair of eyes was looking right at me like I was talking gibberish. A smile grew on Ace¡¯s face, then he started laughing. Nobody joined him, but O¡¯Reiley looked at me like I was some chimp that just threw shit on his wall. Ava watched from her desk, arms folded, a quizzical look in her dark brown eyes.


    ¡°Oh, man!¡± Ace said, his laughter dying. ¡°Tempest wants us to play superhero!¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have the manpower, the logistics, nor the time to parade around resources to people who could very easily start working for the Triumvirate as soon as they were given more supplies.¡± O¡¯Reiley signaled for Jane to stand. ¡°Yes, we want to control them, kid, but how do you expect us to do that without making ourselves look like Good Samaritans? You¡¯re new to this, I get that, but playing the peaceful, good guys¨Cbad guys card never ends well in this business. The good guys have their morals, and then what? The bad guys throw a bunch of cash, food, water, weapons and protection, insurances of safety from us, things that we don¡¯t have at the problem until it goes away. They¡¯ll turn us into the people they should all hate because we¡¯re the ones still fighting.¡±


    ¡°Sarge has a point, Supes,¡± Jane said, walking past me, her heavy boots thudding against the carpet. ¡°The civilians take from us, they expect more, which we don¡¯t have, and who comes in to sweep them off their feet? Right, the same guys who just tried to blow up the damned building.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll break it down easy for ya, kid,¡± Ace said to me. ¡°We give ¡®em an inch, they¡¯ll take a block, and before we know it, they¡¯re telling us to shell up some cash or else they¡¯ll screw with what little business we¡¯ve got left. And at that point? Well, we¡¯re just some street thugs to them.¡±


    I was being forced to pick the lesser of two evils here, but, grudgingly, I had to swallow the bitter logic that they were all somewhat right. But couldn¡¯t there be some other way to do this?


    A way that, you know, didn¡¯t end up with hundreds of people dying under my watch?


    ¡°O¡¯Reiley,¡± Ava said, getting his attention. ¡°Get your group together. You come up with a plan on where we should hit tonight. I¡¯ve got a list of places that are valuable to them on some level. Heavily fortified, though, but if you do this right, it¡¯ll be a walk in the park for us.¡±


    He nodded as Jane opened the door, her heavy black rifle hanging off her shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea of who I¡¯d want with me,¡± he said. ¡°Nothing too complex. Plain old shoot and run.¡±


    Ava nodded, and when he left, she told everyone else to leave the room as well. Ace and Damsel didn¡¯t waste any time vanishing, but not before Ace muttered, ¡°Superheroes, the kid wants us to be superheroes!¡± Then Knuckles stood, snapping off a salute at Ava, then glancing at me before she slipped past the door. Mr. Campbell was the last to leave, and only did so when Ava explicitly told him that she wanted the room to only us two. Alone. Then he left, and we were.


    And the room hadn¡¯t been so small, so quiet, for as long as I could remember.


    ¡°I suggest you don¡¯t speak out of turn again,¡± she said quietly, not moving from her place. I figured it was some power move, forcing me to use my super hearing instead of walking toward me. ¡°Dishing out ideas like that is the reason that your friends and family end up getting hurt.¡±


    I glared at her. ¡°And tones like yours are the reason people like you suddenly vanish.¡±


    Ava smiled, flat and emotionless. ¡°Ah, yes, you¡¯re right, because that¡¯s what you do to people like me: make us all go missing. You know, you¡¯re not quite the supervillain just yet.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck is that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°It means, Tempest,¡± Ava said, pushing off her desk. ¡°That for someone who prides herself on her good nature and very focused and, dare I say, honorable goal of ridding this city of evil, you do an awful job of sounding heroic, and of being heroic, too. All the deaths this week, and why?¡±


    I remained silent, not trusting that the next thing I would do was put her through that desk.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you why,¡± she said, smiling wider this time. ¡°Because you¡¯re a terrible hero.¡±


    I was in her face in seconds, the gust of wind so strong she stumbled back against her desk. The curtains shoved against the glass. Papers fluttered around us. ¡°Say that again. I dare you.¡±


    Ava adjusted her glasses and stood up straight, looking me dead in the eyes. ¡°You heard what I said just fine, I¡¯m sure of it. In case you forgot, we have a common goal, so if you¡¯d like to be a better hero, then next time¡±¡ªshe stepped closer, right in my face; so close I could almost taste the shot of alcohol she must have taken recently¡ª¡°do as you¡¯re told, and come when you¡¯re called.¡± She stared at me, not blinking, not moving. Her heartbeat was slow, gentle and pulsing.


    She wasn¡¯t afraid of me, didn¡¯t even stink of the pheromones that humans usually did.


    How much longer do you want to be someone¡¯s pet? Dominion had asked me in that boiler room. His voice was clear in my mind, so clear it felt as if he was right here with me. I had argued that I wasn¡¯t anyone¡¯s pet, or anyone¡¯s property, but I felt stupid now, looking into the eyes of something that should be below me. Things like Ava got turned into pulp on a normal day. I put her head through a brick wall and didn¡¯t even think twice about her as I had dinner that same night. And yet here I was, not able to do anything to Ava except watch her stand proud in front of me.


    You¡¯re just as dumb of a little dog as your owner probably thinks you are.


    So next time,¡± Ava said quietly, ¡°you stop pretending that you¡¯re a hero everyone so desperately needs at every second of the day, and come right here if there¡¯s a problem. I shouldn¡¯t even have to call you for you to be here; it should be automatic.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t talk to me like I¡¯m beneath you,¡± I growled. ¡°We¡¯re not equals.¡±


    ¡°Correct. You¡¯re an employee that needs to do better.¡± She put her hand on my shoulder and tilted her head as she looked at me. ¡°So please, for your sake, get your shit together and do it.¡±


    I swiped her hand off my shoulder, then jabbed a finger into her chest hard enough to make her bleed. She didn''t buckle, even as my finger got deeper into her chest cavity. ¡°One day,¡± I warned quietly, ¡°when this is all over, I¡¯m gonna make a choice, and I¡¯m not gonna choose you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to it,¡± Ava said. ¡°Until then, do as you¡¯re told, and at least pretend to be a supervillain. You¡¯ll seemingly do a lot more good for Lower Olympus this way, anyway. At least now as Tempest you can shrug off all the people you kill as being a villain instead of lying to yourself and saying its for a greater cause.¡± She shook her head slowly, canines glinting as she spoke again. "Now go on, do what you do best and kill for me."

 Issue #22: Sorry, Im Allergic To Seafood

    Foot traffic usually isn¡¯t a big problem for me, but I was stuck on an idling motorbike in a surging sea of people seemingly going nowhere. It was frustrating having to wait in place, knowing very well I could have been flying, or running, or leaping from buildings if I was feeling energetic, to avoid the mess of people surrounding us. They wore tattered, filthy clothes and smelt of unwashed bodies, but I couldn¡¯t blame them, not even as a few of them tried to make a grab for my empty trouser pockets in hopes of finding something to eat or sell or simply run away with for their sake. From the looks of it, this entire borough in Lower Olympus was heading the same direction right now. Clamoring and shoving, pushing and desperate as they tried to worm their way forward.


    It was a soup kitchen, where they were all heading to, and a tiny one at that.


    Its doors were wide open, but it was packed to the brim inside. Some time in the past hour, they must have resorted to serving people outside from a row of hastily put together tables. The soup was cold, the bread they cut up and handed out was stale. I wasn¡¯t sure if the water was clean, either, but all I could do as I tried making my way through the foot traffic was sit and watch straddled on top of this motorbike. Knuckles was beside me, her face shielded by a white helmet similar to the black one I had on me. She glanced to her side as we came to another stop behind the two SUVs we were supposed to be following, then she looked back at me. I couldn¡¯t see her eyes.


    And, to be honest, I didn¡¯t really want to. She had a good poker face, and barely showed what was going through her mind, but I was pretty sure that she must have heard at least part of the argument I had with Ava, and probably wasn¡¯t going to say anything about my plan of helping these people. I was still simmering inside, burning up from the gut outward, and I had to stop myself from clenching my jaw so tightly I was sure I¡¯d crack a tooth if I continued. Being here, though, amongst people who at least had the heart to push the kids up front, making sure they ate first, ate what little was being scraped out of the large serving tins, was getting to me. And yes, I know what I said about the humans, and yes, I still didn¡¯t like them as much as dad probably had.


    But it was hard to ignore the kids tugging my trouser leg asking for something to eat.


    Gods, what am I doing here? Another few meters forward, the traffic still thick. But on the other hand, what could I do? I didn¡¯t know how to start a freaking food bank. I barely had the cash to feed myself, let alone dozens of other people! I sustained myself off fast food and protein bars, protein shakes and whatever it was that Dennie was feeling kind enough to slide under the table. How was I supposed to help some kid find his parents, too? For all I knew, they might just be the same as Alex, except they must have gotten separated in the attacks. Killed in the chaos and the destruction for all I knew. Would these people even want me anywhere close to them as I cleared up rubble from their streets? How long would it take for the White Capes to hear that Olympia was in this part of the city and started trying to make me an exclusivity just to them and their cause?


    I¡¯d just make this all a lot worse by simply being here, I thought.


    I gripped onto the handlebars a little tighter as we finally moved forward, breaking through the heaving foot traffic. I let Knuckles ride ahead of me, still staying a few cars¡¯ lengths away from the SUVs to avoid suspicion. My mind wasn¡¯t in it, though. Couldn¡¯t be. Not with the ruins of a city¡ªmy city, I reminded myself; not only the upper west, but here, too¡ªwas littered along the street. Bodies covered with white sheets, rotting because nobody had moved them. Flies hummed in the faint light, gathering in alleyways overflowing with garbage that hadn¡¯t been picked up in what might have been weeks. And would the city really send the collectors down here? This deep into Lower Olympus? What the fuck was Mayor Blackwood thinking in her little office right now?


    But¡­ I sighed quietly, gunning the throttle a little more to catch up to Knuckles.


    I couldn¡¯t really point fingers when I wasn¡¯t exactly helping the community, either. A pill I was having a hard time forcing down my throat. A pill that was being given to me day in and day out so far for the past week. Just a little bit more work, and energy, and time, and I was sure I would get there eventually, and maybe everyone would be clapping, or maybe not, but I had to find the energy to keep going for their sake because who else was going to fight for them? Just a little more, Ry. Don¡¯t stop now. But I couldn¡¯t give up, not even if I wanted to so desperately.


    It wouldn¡¯t be fair on both the living and the dead. I was a lot of things, I know.


    But I didn¡¯t break promises. I was trying my damndest not to.


    ¡°Tempest,¡± O¡¯Reiley said, his voice coming through my ear. ¡°There¡¯s a route you two should use that¡¯ll take you to Old Town a lot faster than us. Sweep the area. Give us updates. Judging by the traffic, we should be there in ten, maybe twenty minutes after you. I expect clear windows, clear rooftops, and if you do come across anyone that looks at you strangely, then you keep your heads down and your mouths shut. I don¡¯t want any fighting until we¡¯re there, clear?¡±


    ¡°What if we are encountered by hostels?¡± Knuckles asked over the roar of her engine.


    ¡°Then be hostile,¡± he said, then added: ¡°But make sure to hide their bodies afterward.¡±


    A minute later, new GPS coordinates pinged into the throw-away phone on the handlebars. The route took us through a wet alley and past a butcher shop closed for the night. We worked our way through Lower Olympus, through broken boroughs no different from the ones that blurred past as we raced down streets and around corners. I kept up with Knuckles, trusting her to lead the way. She¡¯d had my back enough times for me to at least have hers, but she was also a lot faster than I was on this thing. You couldn¡¯t blame me for not really knowing how to drive anything, because when would I ever need to? Bikes were easier. Ben taught both me and Bianca years ago.


    But Knuckles tore through the streets like she was racing the shadows stretching underneath flickering lamp posts. Trash fluttered through the air as I chased after her, the thing between my legs roaring louder and louder as we slowly started sloping down toward the ocean. The stench of wet concrete, wet soil, and wet people filled my nose, penetrating the motorcycle helmet as the river started coming into view. Old Town was, by all intents and purposes, a fishing district that hadn¡¯t been providing the city with fish for at least three decades now. It was a place I didn¡¯t bother coming to, because old sailors who lost their jobs once the newer port was built stuck around this place like flies to fly traps. Kaiju, superhumans, and everyone in between lived here.


    Lower Olympus might be bad, but you came here if you wanted to hide from something.


    Or someone, I thought, passing by a defaced mural of Olympia, a noose around her neck.


    At least, that¡¯s what Jane had told me. I was up in the air most of the time, and Olympia rarely ever came this far into the city. Don¡¯t blame me, high school literally just ended a month ago.


    So if something new popped up, then it was news to me, too. It would take some time to learn this city through and through, but Rylee was going to take a back seat for the foreseeable future, so I had all the time in the world (at least, until Ava paid for my entrance into the Olympiad) to learn New Olympus. To make sure I understood it like it was the back of my very tired hands.


    Slower now, Knuckles and I rode down the gentle hill that led toward the bustling hive nestled right next to the putrid brown river mouth. This part of the city was purely man-made. The concrete foundation was brittle underneath our tires, making our bikes flick loose stones behind us as we rode. The houses were squat and cramped together, packed tight like rotting sardines, and made out of old, weathered sheet metal and aged concrete. The town was singing with noise coming off boats rocking on the river, some stuck on thick brown muck, others moored to a long strip of boardwalk that ran along the river. It was wide, but seemingly not very deep. Trash clogged most of the river¡¯s end, but that didn¡¯t seem to be an issue to the hordes of people around us.


    I¡¯ll be honest, it felt like I was stepping into another world as we parked our bikes in an alley between two ramshackle houses. A world that shouldn¡¯t exist in this city, because I was so used to seeing apartment buildings and normal stores that being hit with the smells coming off a sizzling marketplace selling all kinds of sea creatures was a shock to me. A freaking shanty town right here in New Olympus, filled with the din of sailor music and loud singing. But, to be fair to the people who lived here, most of it was underneath one of the larger bridges stretching over the river. Far, far beneath the looming red bridge. So far below that the people driving across it probably rolled up their windows and blasted their air conditioning because this place was nothing more than a fly-infested, Kaiju filled, superhuman riddled place that they should all just ignore.


    I must have flown over this place dozens of times, so lost in my own head and what I had going on in my life that it was lost in the gurgling noise Lower Olympus always seemed to make.


    Knuckles removed her helmet, shaking out her short white hair. Still wearing the mask I had given her, she adjusted it a little, then said, ¡°You¡­¡± She silenced for a moment as a tiny oil lamp illuminated the window above us; then darkness bloomed once more. ¡°Your presence is much appreciated. Things haven¡¯t been easy over the past week without your help, Tempest.¡±


    It didn¡¯t sound accusing, so I took it as a compliment as I took off my helmet. ¡°Yeah, well, it¡¯s no biggie. I¡¯ve been stuck doing things all over the city and haven¡¯t had the time to pop by.¡±


    She slid a pistol into a holster on her thigh, then cloaked herself in a black shawl she pulled from a bag on the side of her bike. All I got was a filthy old yellow rain jacket. ¡°I am¡­ grateful.¡±


    I smiled at her, elbowing her arm. ¡°Sounds like you¡¯re developing a heart, Knucks.¡±


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Her ears were red, but maybe it was just the poor weather. ¡°I suggest we sweep the area.¡±


    ¡°Want me to give you a lift through the air again to cover more area?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said quickly, then cleared her throat. ¡°No, thank you. I¡¯ll stay on the ground.¡±


    I took to the air as she made her way through back alleys and shallow trenches filled with bilgewater (is that what it was called? I didn¡¯t know; the ocean wasn¡¯t my thing¡ªgo complain to Poseidon if you had a problem with me using that word) and long-forgotten trash. I had to stay lower, nearly hugging the limp power lines as I flew, making sure I didn¡¯t cast a shadow over anyone who would notice. It took us a few minutes to work through Old Town, as much of it as we could, anyway, before deciding that the Triumvirate had people stationed nearly everywhere.


    They were hard to notice at first, but they weren¡¯t exactly blending in. Guys and girls lingering in the doorways of large floating barges kept an eye out on the river and the streams of people around them, smoking, not saying anything to anyone. They were avoided on purpose, and you could always trust someone who had lived here to give you a feel of the place. We had a specific target in mind, a guy called Cedric, but we asked a fish monger who was at the edge of the market if he knew anyone by that name; he told us to leave before he gutted us like his fish.


    We decided it was better to wait for O¡¯Reiley, Jane, Ace and Mr. Campbell to get here before we made any decisions. It wasn¡¯t like me to wait, but I was going in blind, had nothing close to a target in mind other than a name, plus this was Ava¡¯s plan. To hell with what she wanted. I was only doing what I had to or else she would put my friends and mom in danger. Besides, asking around for Cedric seemed like a bad idea. We would be attracting attention to ourselves, and that tended to be doing the opposite of trying to blend in. We continued skulking through back alleys and passed large barges filled with half-drunk men and women stumbling along decks and disappearing into towering house boats. Eyes were on us, passive glances from guys who were doing a bad job of paying attention to the newspaper spread out in their hands. I figured we should do a little bit more blending in, leading the way to a tiny bar in the dredges of the food market.


    My guess was that the Triumvirate knew we were here, but sure, let''s play their game.


    ¡°Ever had¡ª¡± I paused, looking at the¡­ thing sizzling on a grill in front of me. ¡°This?¡±


    It was scaled, had tentacles, but also had tufts of fur sprouting from those curling black appendages. It looked both leathery and soft, stewing in a pot of its own juices right beside the grill, steaming. The fat lady behind the grill was busy butchering another one, slamming a cleaver onto wood and right through stringy meat, then tossed it right onto the grill to make some more.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never had seafood,¡± Knuckles said. ¡°I suppose a bloated lizard does not count?¡±


    I glanced at her, my hood still up, confused. ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s not far off this thing.¡±


    ¡°So are you gonna ogle or are you gonna eat?¡± the woman asked.


    ¡°Cut me a slice for a taster first.¡± Before even my gut gets food poisoning.


    She snorted. ¡°What, you think this is the mall? You get chunks. Hide. Tentacles. Batches. Pieces. I don¡¯t do tasters. Five bucks for a quarter pound of hide, and ten for a pound of tentacles.¡±


    Knuckles pointed at a thick gray liquid seeping out of the thing¡¯s head. ¡°The brain.¡±


    ¡°How do you know that¡¯s what it is?¡± I asked quietly.


    ¡°Brain smells sweet when grilled,¡± she said factually, as if this was something I should have already known by now in life. ¡°I suppose this isn¡¯t seafood. It¡¯s a dead sea Kaiju. Correct?¡±


    The woman stopped cleaving apart the body, looking up at us with a marble-black eye. The other was hidden by an eyepatch, though the scars littering the rest of her face told enough of a story. Slowly, she lowered the rusted cleaver, then said, ¡°Yeah, it is, kid. Got a problem with it?¡±


    I personally didn¡¯t know how I should have felt about seeing a Kaiju get butchered and dismembered then splayed out on a grill. But now, as I narrowed my eyes and searched behind the woman, I saw a bucket foot of bloodied clothes and a silver watch glinting in the faint orange light of the market. She kicked it underneath the table, out of sight, but now my nose had latched onto the stink of burning flesh and boiling human-animal blood. I kinda wanted to be sick. Sick because it was exactly how Snake had smelt when I had burned him alive until he was nothing but pulp.


    I wasn¡¯t getting soft, but¡­ I don¡¯t know, something wasn¡¯t sitting right with me here.


    Kaiju weren¡¯t going to get off easily for what they had done, believe you me, but this?


    She must be keeping more of them somewhere here, I thought. Or just hunts for business.


    For all I knew, though, she had people selling her Kaiju for her little market stall.


    Knuckles glanced at me, then asked, ¡°Is there a problem here?¡±


    I forced my hands to unclench. ¡°Give me a fuckin¡¯ taster and I¡¯ll give you a fifty.¡±


    That got her to move, but only after I elbowed Knuckles to show her the cash we had gotten for this expedition. O¡¯Reiley was still in my ear, parking, getting their gear ready, but my mind was here in the market, surrounded by bustling people calling for buyers, eating strange foods, a busker using his superpowers to make a tiny orbit of marbles circle a little girl¡¯s head to make it seem as if she had a halo over her. The guys in black had vanished. I couldn¡¯t see them. Shit. They must have slipped into the crowd, maybe trying to get a better angle of us. Or maybe they¡¯d gotten news that O¡¯Reiley was here and had to move out and head for him instead of me.


    I couldn¡¯t find it in myself to care when the woman tossed me a chunk of fried tentacle.


    I brought it to my nose and inhaled deeply, shutting my eyes to focus on it.


    And then I smelt it, that sickly sweet stench that all the newer Kaiju reeked of.


    That same smell that Wraith had reeked of at the docks.


    I knew I hadn¡¯t picked up on something wrong. Knew my nose hadn¡¯t led me here for no reason. She wasn¡¯t the only one selling what I could only presume was Kaiju meat, but she was the closest. Anger wasn¡¯t the emotion flowing in my veins, it was cold bitterness, from the week I¡¯d had, from the shit I¡¯d seen, and maybe it was supposed to be directed at Ava, or the mayor, but all I had was some chick carrying a bloody butcher¡¯s knife to direct it towards. So I threw the piece of dirt-brown roasted tentacle to the ground and grabbed the butcher by her bloody leather apron, yanking her over the grill and through her produce and then shoved her onto the scarred wood of the boardwalk. She thumped against it, gasping. The people around us surged back, but continued on their way, paying us no attention, and for once, I thanked the people of Lower Olympus for knowing when it was time to mind their own business when they saw something going down.


    ¡°What the¡ª Ack!¡±


    I forced my boot against the back of her throat. ¡°Where¡¯d you get the sea Kaiju?¡±


    ¡°Tempest,¡± Knuckles said, grabbing my wrist. ¡°We were not to cause a¡ª¡±


    I wrenched my hand free, then kicked the butcher in the ribs. I crouched, grabbed her hair, and yanked her head upward to look me in the eyes. ¡°Answer me, or it¡¯ll be you on the grill next.¡±


    She smiled, exposing a row of yellow rotting teeth. ¡°Too young to be a cop. A Cape?¡±


    I did her a favor and tore out the gold molar in the back of her mouth. I threw it at two kids watching from behind a mother not paying attention to us, blood and meat still on the shiny metal.


    She spat blood, her twisted snarl lined by scarlet. ¡°You bitch, I ain¡¯t telling you anything.¡±


    Like I said, I was trying not to break my promises, so it didn¡¯t take long for me to wrangle her onto her feet, her head in my palm and heat in my gut as I forced her good eye toward the grill. Now people were noticing, looking over their shoulders at the woman pelting insults at me. She was trying to wriggle her way free, bucking and fighting, but with my powers they were right now, it felt like I was holding watery spaghetti in my hands. I edged her face closer to the burning coles, to the grill dashed with white hot ash. She still swore. Still fought. Alright. I pushed her against it.


    And that¡¯s how I learnt what burning skin smelt like right from the source.


    ¡°Ready to tell me something yet?¡± I asked, pulling her off of it, stopping her shrieking.


    She breathed hard and fast, pained and panting. I could guess why. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t like how that answer is sounding so far.¡±


    ¡°Tempest,¡± Knuckles said. Two guys were shoving their way toward us.


    ¡°Cedric,¡± she cried, her voice cracking when I grabbed her singed hair. ¡°He sold me¡ª¡±


    ¡°And where the hell is he?¡± I asked, getting close to her warped face. ¡°Answer me.¡±


    The two guys had three more flanking them now, their hands going down to their waists. Knuckles¡¯ head was swiveling between me and them, but her hands were warped with her power.


    ¡°Club Roho!¡± she screamed. I let her drop to the ground in a gasping heap. ¡°A hole in the wall. I don¡¯t¡±¡ªshe flinched when I glared at her¡ª¡°The big houseboat! The one with the heads!¡±


    We¡¯d passed a houseboat earlier on, and the ¡®heads¡¯ she was talking about were mannequin heads perched around the railing, each of them painted in some kind of face paint to look like the Olympians. I¡¯d seen things like that before, things that had made me burn up inside, but tonight was a night finally going my way, and maybe this was Ava¡¯s doing, sending me here, wanting me to find something out about the attacks. Sending me directly to whoever Cedri was so she could still tug along the leash she had around my throat. I had a feeling that, even without splitting up with the SUVs, I would have ended up here at some point. Be a supervillain, Ava had told me, and I hated entertaining even the idea that she might have had at least some kind of plan up her sleeves.


    But this was just another way she was keeping me on her leash, wasn¡¯t it?


    I grabbed Knuckles¡¯ wrist and flew into the air and right toward the houseboat. I wasn¡¯t going to waste time with the Triumvirate tonight. O¡¯Reiley was swearing a stream into my ear, most likely having spotted me in the air, saying I needed to stick to the plan, to get my act right, but I wasn¡¯t in the mood right now. I would leave Cedric able to breathe enough to answer O¡¯Reiley¡¯s questions, but not before I had my way with him first. I got my answers, Ava got her answers, and everybody went home happy. Except for Cedric, who¡¯s going home in a bucket and garbage bags.

 Issue #23: Breaking Point

    I had never been on a houseboat before, but I figured tonight was as good as any to crash a party on one. Club Roho was barely a boat in the first place, with most of it being weathered, spray painted concrete married to large wooden pillars sticking up from the river, holding it in place over most of the other houseboats settled in the river beside it. It was a building in all honesty, and was really only a houseboat because the remnants of one were still stuck in its dark underbelly on the muddy river. Pulsing purple strobe lights shone down from the upper most floor, spotlighting the lower levels. People drank and ate, stumbled around because of the cheap liquor I smelt in them.


    It wasn¡¯t a party in the slightest¡ªit was a group of half-dead civilians in filthy dinner suits and vomit-stained gowns that might have been gorgeous when I was still learning how to walk. I had flown here expecting a fight, a crowd, guns and ammunition and maybe, judging by my luck this week, a new superhuman to fight, and the noise was there, sure, and so was the thumping music that shook the concrete and rattled the beams of wood that held up parts of the overhanging cement floors, but it was just¡­ pathetic, almost lifeless, bleeding out in real time as the night grinded onward, crushing them all in it. Not sad. I was too pent up with emotions to bother feeling that way for these people, but they all reeked of sweat and desperation. They shuffled around like zombies, high on drugs with their worlds warped by alcohol. Hell, they might as well be rotting.


    And somewhere in that giant carcass was Cedric, the thing that kept the heart beating.


    ¡°Tempest,¡± Knuckles hissed. Her grip was tight on my wrist, way too tight, I¡¯d say, for the measly height we were above the houseboat. ¡°We have instructions not to engage the target by¡ª¡±


    ¡°Look at where we are, Knucks,¡± I muttered, staring at the people, at their pale faces and stringy hair and those hollow, empty eye sockets. ¡°Ava¡¯s still tugging your leash right now?¡±


    ¡°I am not her pet,¡± she answered briskly, and hell, I almost heard myself saying those exact words. ¡°This is our one chance to target the Triumvirate successfully, proving to them¡ª¡±


    I pulled her up, looking her in the eyes. ¡°And what exactly are we proving to them?¡±


    She was silent for a moment, then said, ¡°That our war with them is not yet finished.¡±


    My eyes narrowed, and I pulled out her earpiece and crushed it between my fingers. Ace, it must have been him in her ear, in her mind, like some tick telling her what to say to me. Or maybe it was O¡¯Reiley trying to get things back in order, desperately trying to salvage anything he can of a mission that was already falling to pieces in his hands. I could hear the distant and muffled pop of gunfire coming from the little shanty town¡¯s back alleys, muzzle flashes splitting the overhanging wispy mist spilling in from the river. I figured Knuckles wouldn¡¯t talk that way on her own. She was a soldier, that much I knew, but I didn¡¯t know her history, where she came from¡ªbut that didn¡¯t really matter now, because one thing I knew for certain was shining in her dim blue eyes.


    Knuckles wasn¡¯t with the Jericho Triad because she wanted to be here. We¡¯re in the same freaking boat, I thought. Except she¡¯s doing what she¡¯s told without a wink of hesitation in her.


    It was how Ava spoke to her. How the others hardly acknowledged her. After Ava made it very clear what our relationship was right now, I went walking through the Guild, seeing the damage the Triumvirate caused (all of it internal, because they¡¯d struck right in the heart of the place Ava thought she was safest to send a very, very clear message to her), and they¡¯d given Knuckles a room on the lower floors. The floors with the most rubble in the hallways. The floors that still stunk of gunpowder and Kaiju remains. The floors that were dark and dingy and were silent except for the sound of her fists beating against a leather punching bag over and over again, as if being called her real name had snapped something deep inside of her. She was an asset to them, not a person. Nothing more. She had only stopped punching after she blew the bag apart.


    I hated to sound like Lucas, but she felt like an empty bottle, or more accurately, a firearm without its magazine, and anyone who just so happened to have a couple of rounds could use her. And hell, maybe I am getting a little soft, or tired, or being a superhero is kinda just what I was used to doing, and helping people was (believe it or not), something that was simply in my bloodstream, but I guessed that I was the one holding Knuckles in my hand right this second.


    A part of me, though, wanted to aim her right back at Ava.


    I might not be smart, and my greatest weakness was probably the soft pink organ between my ears when it came to telekinesis or hypnotic spells, but getting Knuckles to think right was easy, because all I really had to do was show her what happened to people like Cedric in my city. I didn¡¯t have the right to point fingers and judge, especially about second chances. Lucas knew that. I knew that more than anyone. And turning Knuckles into a superhero was crazy talk, but it would be a hell of a lot of help having someone with at least a few screws in the right place on my side. Who knows, maybe I could get her to leave all of this crap behind one day when it was all over.


    And if I was wrong and she couldn''t change, well, what¡¯s another dead supervillain, right?


    Before I could give her a chance to speak, I flew us onto Club Roho¡¯s highest floor, where a canvas tarp was used to create a faux open-air ceiling. I landed gently, and like she often did, Knuckles did the same. We were perched on top of a cement column, canvas snapping in the wind below us. I gave her the very simple instruction that we were not going to harm the half-dead civilians as we worked our way into the club. I didn¡¯t know if she wanted to argue, or to question why exactly we weren¡¯t going to deal with the civilians, but it didn¡¯t matter as we started moving. I led the way down, leaping onto the concrete balcony. Nobody noticed¡ªthey really were like zombies, milling around, glasses in hand, chattering and mumbling unintelligibly. Plus they reeked.


    It almost made me wish that my powers hadn¡¯t ticked up in the past few days, wincing as I covered my nose with my elbow. Knuckles followed, tense, her hands tight and bunched as we slipped through the crowd. I made an effort to breeze just over them, past them. And when they bumped into me, they stumbled, looked around, then continued on their way, as if blind and numb and confused to the world around them, stuck in some kind of lucid dream. I was starting to get unnerved, feeling not quite right as we entered the main building itself. My skin crawled as we slipped into the dark. My ears prickled at the sound of music and its echoing din. A painfully sharp finger of ice ran down my spine, and I spun around, expecting to find a mercenary or superhuman.


    Instead, all I found was a woman with straw-thin blonde hair staring at us from across the room. She had nothing in her hands, and wore a silk satin dress over her bone-thin curvy body.


    Her eyes were pits of black, and I wasn¡¯t exaggerating. They looked like they were missing, as if someone had pulled them right out, but it was hard to tell with her eyelids half shut.


    What the hell is wrong with these people? Was this Cedric¡¯s doing? Was this his power?


    Knuckles tapped my shoulder. She pointed at a man not too far from where we stood.


    My stomach turned at the sight of something moving underneath the skin of his skull. Something long and awkward, slender like some kind of worm burrowing around his body. He was docile, silent. Didn¡¯t scream or tug at it, and suddenly he was looking at us, smiling widely.


    I wanted to vomit, but I swallowed the bile and swept through one, two, three more floors of the exact same scene. Sometimes they lounged on couches. Other times there were just rooms filled with them doing nothing except chewing on moldy food that must have been weeks, or maybe months old. We noticed security cameras on the walls, but none of them looked like they were working, but that didn¡¯t really matter as we started getting deeper into the bowels of Club Roho¡ªthe civilians were watching us now, staring. Un-moving. These, down here amongst the smells of sewage and stillwater and surrounded by mold growing up from the wet floorboards, were thinner, paler, looked rougher and were nearly dead and rotting on their feet. Not zombies, no, I wasn¡¯t being ridiculous, because I could still hear heartbeats coming from their bony chests.


    My hands were subconsciously balled, a fact I only found out when Knuckles glanced at them. You couldn¡¯t blame me, not here in the dark surrounded by people staring at us with dead eyes and empty smiles and some kind of creature digging around their bodies as if it were perfectly normal for that to happen. But they didn¡¯t move. Didn¡¯t attack us. They stared at us and did nothing more than stand aside as we walked past them, creating a hallway of bodies that blocked off doors and exits, other side rooms and rooms marked off with red tape. Knuckles stuck to my shoulder, just a step behind me. She was silently muttering something behind her mask, something I couldn¡¯t make out. A prayer, maybe, in a rough language that sounded garbled out of her mouth.


    Minutes crawled past us, slow and uncomfortable as we got deeper and deeper. Down flights of stairs that spiraled into a darkness so deep that I had to guide Knuckles. It made the humans more ghoulish, less¡­ human. Their joints creaked and ticked, groaned like they were rusting. Like mannequins, these ones on the lower level were held together by their flesh and loose joints, their limp appendages and stringy hair. Some wore wigs and had their filthy fingernails still painted in bright shades of red, purple, and hot pink, as if someone was playing dress up with them. Ill-fitting clothes. Shoes that didn¡¯t match. Gods, the feeling of this place, how it was turning my gut into knots, was making my nerves flare up. I wanted to get to Cedric quickly. Soon. Now.


    And soon enough, the hallways opened up. Several rooms were either side of us, with wilting yellow wallpaper peeling right off the walls. Cadaver-like humans stood in front of the doors, still staring and smiling, wearing jewelry and makeup, cologne that mixed together with their unwashed skin. Lightbulbs buzzed above us, shining sickly yellow light down the hall. They blinked, winked out, and came back on as we reached the dark mahogany door at the end of it.


    Cedric had his name carved into the door and laced in gold, glinting in the dark.


    What the hell was he playing at? A trap, my gut told me, because why would he¡ª


    A lock snapped aside behind the door. I tensed, watching as it creaked open.


    ¡°Finally,¡± a low, gravelly voice said. ¡°It¡¯s taken you people ages to get here.¡±


    Standing in the door was¡­ a man. Just a man. He was average height with blonde hair, had brown eyes the color of dirt, and a faint brush of stubble on his weak jaw. He wore a dirty suit stained around the collar by sweat. He picked at the skin on the back of his hands, nervous, or maybe because there was something in his veins. He looked so painfully normal that my anger morphed into confusion, which quickly returned, flooding my body, faster than it had before, because this was Cedric? This man who downed a glass of whiskey, only to cough and splutter? The thing buzzing around a dark, scarlet-colored office, a room that reeked of urine and drugs?


    I had been expecting a monster. Something I could hate without even thinking twice. The locals made it seem like he was going to be the devil, but he was a man wearing a stained suit, hiding in a dark little room in the middle of a vast, ice-cold building. And all I could do for a moment was stare at him, seethe quietly, and watch as he swept up his briefcase off his desk.


    Then I snapped out of it, and kicked his fucking coffee table against the wall.


    It shattered, smashing into wooden shards, throwing empty bottles of liquor to the floor, breaking them into fragments. Cedric glanced at the mess, then looked at me with soulless eyes.


    ¡°Is there a reason that you¡ª¡±


    I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him down onto his desk. He gasped in pain, then I felt hands wrap around my shoulders and arms and yank my hair backward, trying to free him. The people in the hallway had moved forward, silent as, well, the dead, and grabbed me in seconds. Knuckles stood and watched, hovering in the doorway, unsure of what to do.


    I wasn¡¯t any better, because I didn¡¯t know how to deal with these kinds of humans. Ripping them off of me would mean leaving their hands on me and the rest of their body not attached to them. They were brittle and bony, and maybe they were strong to a normal person, terrifying to a normal person, but I was half sure that shoving them off would blow them apart.


    So I grudgingly let go of Cedric¡¯s neck before his face could turn entirely white.


    He clattered onto the floor, choking and coughing on his hands and knees. ¡°What the fuck?¡± he wheezed, looking up at me, tears in his eyes. ¡°I was promised no bodily harm!¡±


    My brows furrowed. ¡°And who the hell promised you that?¡±


    I didn¡¯t hear the next string of words to come out of his mouth. I stilled, stopped moving so suddenly that I was sure my heart would stop not long after. I stared at him. Looked down at him. Watched his lips move, but didn¡¯t hear a single thing over the blood raging in my ears. My heart was loud, a drum beat against my ribs that echoed throughout my body. Heat in my gut, in my blood, flowing through me and wanting to form around my fingers and body and flood my eyes until I was laced with golden lightning and blazing heat that my powers wanted to drench me in..


    Self-control was something I was still working on. It didn¡¯t take a lot to piss me off.


    But this kind of anger came from somewhere deep and dark, from somewhere I¡¯d kept a lot of emotions over the years, giving them the space to twist and curdle and burn a hole through me.


    I always figured it would take someone hurting Bianca or mom or anyone I cared about to make me feel this way, cold right through my entire body, but this was different. New to me.


    Because all Cedric had to say was: ¡°Your boss.¡±


    Fingers snapped in my face. He was standing again, adjusting his collar. ¡°They just don¡¯t make henchmen¡­ hench-girls like they used to,¡± he muttered. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to protect me, not stand around and gawk. Hello? Hello?¡± He flicked my ear. ¡°You use these fuckin¡¯ things, kid?¡±


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    I grabbed his wrist, stared into his eyes as his bones began to crack. ¡°My boss?¡± I must have whispered tensely, but my voice sounded far away. Distant. Like someone was imitating me.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± Cedric shrieked, just as his wrist popped and shattered. The civilians lunged, grabbing me, but what did I care? Their biting and scratching was nothing to me at that point.


    Sounds from upstairs. Dozens, maybe hundreds of feet pounding against the floor, racing through the hallways and down the stairs to find their master. More were coming, trying to find their boss, the man who must have put those things inside of them. They were a tidal wave of bodies gushing down the stairwell, clawing over each other in some mad, raging rush toward the open office door. Their cry was horrific, blood-curdling. Knuckles was pressed against a wall, silent, because they were ignoring her, and were charging straight for me. But¡­ I didn¡¯t care. I didn¡¯t fucking care. He had said Ava¡¯s name, said it because she had sent us here tonight to¡­


    I let go of his wrist as it dawned on me. She sent us here to get him out of here.


    Ava sent me here to make sure some god-forsaken lowlife made it out of this place alive and in our custody. I didn¡¯t know. Didn¡¯t have the mental capacity to guess. To think. To figure out why she wanted us to get this¡­ this thing out of Old Town in one piece tonight. Noise all around me, from inside of me, from my racing heart and whining blood, to the civilians and the terrible groaning, mewling, screaming sound they were making as they clustered around Cedric. I stepped backward, not because I was pushed, not because I was scared, but because I knew what I was going to do next was going to kill a lot of people, and I had to remind myself these were normal people, people with lives once upon a time, but it was hard to think, hard not to act¡ªimpossible not to want to do something that my instincts up until now were screaming at me to do right now.


    I want to kill him and hang his body from the bridge for everyone to see.


    I want to use Ava¡¯s guts to wrap a noose right around his throat.


    I want to tear this entire place down right-fucking-now.


    I grabbed him by his scruffy hair and pulled him into the air. He kicked and squirmed, clawing at my hand, panic in his eyes. ¡°The Kaiju,¡± I said quietly. ¡°You¡¯re selling them. Where?¡±


    Cedric smiled a sick smile, like a snake¡¯s maw pulling open. ¡°That¡¯s between me and¡ª¡±


    I threw him into his desk. His body slammed into the reinforced mahogany, and I heard a healthy crack of ribs as they met the sharp edge. I hovered over him as his humans clawed at my trousers, picked at my skin. ¡°The Kaiju,¡± I repeated, angrier. ¡°Where are the other Kaiju, Cedric?¡±


    He laughed a little, his voice rattling, and I figured the bone fragments in his lungs were helping with that. ¡°Yo¡­ You think I¡¯ll tell you? Your boss told me one of you was difficult.¡± Cedric looked into my eyes. Had the gaul to smile, bloody teeth and all. ¡°You¡¯re not worth that kind of information, so how about you do as you¡¯re told and get me out of here like agreed, kid.¡±


    Like agreed.


    ¡°Tempest!¡±


    It was the one word that stopped me from putting my fist through his skull. I looked over my shoulder and saw O¡¯Reiley, Jane, Ace and Mr. Campbell in the doorway. Cedric¡¯s collar was in my fist, and I might have hit him in my daze, because his jaw was loose and crooked, with several teeth missing, and I figured the bone was still attached to his face only because of the strips of flesh connecting them. He was sobbing quietly, pissing himself. His bravado had vanished right along with most of his tongue that didn¡¯t have bits of bone in it. I blinked once, stood, and dropped him. He slumped at my feet, and I turned to face the five of them, including Knuckles. She hadn¡¯t moved, hadn¡¯t spoken. She had remained in the corner, a weapon without a hand to aim her.


    ¡°Jesus Christ,¡± Jane whispered, lowering¡ªwhat I was just noticing¡ªa special grade rifle.


    ¡°Well, I guess she¡¯s found our P.O.I.,¡± Ace muttered. ¡°At least, what¡¯s left of the bastard.¡±


    I pointed at him. ¡°You knew,¡± I whispered, looking at O¡¯Reiley. ¡°You knew and didn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t what?¡± he said measuredly, finger still on his trigger. ¡°Tell you we were doing an extraction job? You¡¯re not special. You¡¯re new. Fresh. We had reason to suspect that you were¡ª¡±


    ¡°The mole?¡± I asked, bitterness curling my tongue. ¡°You didn¡¯t tell me that we were going to extract someone who traffics fucking Kaiju because you think I¡¯m ratting on your little gang?¡±


    Silence, because yeah, I knew he was lying. There was another reason. There had to be.


    A part of me didn¡¯t know if I wanted to know the godsdamned reason.


    ¡°You still want to play hero?¡± Ace asked, waving his arm around the room. ¡°Look at this. Look. These people, kid, were normal people. Normals. So tone down the sanctimonious crap¡ª¡±


    ¡°Ace,¡± I said, shutting my eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not in the mood for you, so keep quiet.¡± I opened them again, now staring at O¡¯Reiley. Bodies littered the floor, dead and torn apart¡ªnot bleeding, all hollow. Dead before they touched me. ¡°Tell me the truth. Why does this bastard know Ava?¡±


    Cedric answered, looking up at me, blood frothing in his mouth. ¡°We¡¯re partners.¡±


    I shut my eyes, squeezed them closed. ¡°O¡¯Reiley,¡± I whispered. ¡°I have had a very, very long week, and now, this person who helped the Triumvirate attack your people¡±¡ªand possible most of the city for all I knew; my anger needed a face, and it was going to be the one that had caked my knuckles in red¡ª¡°is the same freaking guy you want to help? He sells Kaiju. Sells them to get eaten alive. He sells them to the Triumvirate for all I know so they can kill your little game.¡±


    ¡°So now you have morals?¡± Jane asked. She spat saliva at my feet. ¡°Go to hell. I¡¯ve seen you kill with your bare hands. Rip things in two with nothing but your fingers. Kaiju are Kaiju.¡±


    In the midst of the silence, the sound of muffled whimpering came from the hallway. It had been there for several minutes, and I had thought it might have been Mr. Campbell making those sounds. But then Cedric started laughing, spittle and bloody saliva pouring from his mouth as I glanced down at him, then past O¡¯Reiley. I took one step forward, then another. Cedric was saying something, mumbling through the torn meat of his mouth about Kaiju just being Kaiju. Monsters. Things. And when I pushed past O¡¯Reiley and Jane, made Ace stumbled against a wall, and flew past Mr. Campbell (who hadn¡¯t raised his eyes off the floor), it was hard for me not to disagree.


    At least, I agreed on some level until I saw the tiny naked bodies in the rooms down the hallway. Behind the doors marked x with red tape and red paint. Each and every one of them was the same: dark, wet, stinking of urine and defecation, of unwashed¡­ fur, not skin, but fur and scales and feathers that were wilting and patches of green skin that was shed in pale sheets. I swallowed my tongue, put a fist to my mouth to stop myself from puking. Tiny bodies. Not adult bodies. The things cowering on stained mattresses on the floor and on bunk beds, in cages hanging from meat hooks coming down from the ceiling, were small. Small. Their wings were tiny. Their claws were no bigger than my fingernails on some. They cowered as I walked past each of them, huddling together, twitching, nervous, baring their teeth, retracting their claws, flapping their wings and hissing and spitting and grabbing at one another so they stayed tightly packed together as one..


    Because I must have been the first person in here that hadn¡¯t come to buy children.


    I looked over my shoulder. O¡¯Reiley was in the door, a shadow.


    The kids had tags hanging around their throats like collars¡ªMeat. Muscle. Medical. Only three categories. The largest children had meat around their necks, the strongest-looking, the ones who stared at me not with anger or hatred, but with this cold understanding that they knew what was coming next, had muscle on their necks. The rest, though, simply had medical on them, and those were the ones who were the smallest, the weakest, and most commonly the dirtiest of them.


    I turned around and walked toward the doorway, but O¡¯Reiley didn¡¯t move.


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna think about what¡¯s gonna happen next,¡± he said quietly.


    I nodded, then whispered, ¡°I¡¯m thinking of putting my hand through your chest.¡±


    ¡°And what exactly are you going to do, Tempest?¡± he asked. ¡°Save them? How?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll¡­¡± I swallowed as the doorway behind O¡¯Reiley was pushed open by Mr. Campbell¡ªthe kids in there were mostly all medical. ¡°I¡¯ll get them out of here, and then¡ª¡±


    ¡°Then set them up somewhere nice, right? Get them blankets and food and a nice warm bed to stay in because everybody in this damned city would just love to have a little Kaiju in their goddamned house, right?¡± he said, staring at me. Not once did his finger move. Not once did the special grade rifle lower from my chest. ¡°We came here for a job, and this is not part of that job.¡±


    I bristled, anger flaring in me as I waved a hand behind me. ¡°They¡¯re fucking kids!¡±


    ¡°A Kaiju is a Kaiju,¡± Jane said, eyes narrowing. ¡°We¡¯re just here to make sure nobody else gets them on their side, and that piece of shit on the floor is gonna make sure we get some, too.¡±


    Get some. Get. Some. ¡°These are kids you¡¯re talking about!¡± I snapped. ¡°Kids! I saw some butcher in the market cut one up and put him in a pot to stew! And now you want to help the same guy who sold one to her? You want to help the same guy who keeps children in the dark like this?¡±


    Jane raised her rifle and fired into a room of them¡ªthey didn¡¯t have a chance to scream; the golden beam of light turned them into pulpy red-gray ash in seconds. ¡°There, problem solved.¡±


    I slammed her through the opposite wall, sending her skidding into the dark. ¡°What the hell is your problem?¡± I shouted. I spun around, just as O¡¯Reiley raised his rifle. ¡°This is insane!¡±


    ¡°Insane, darling, is thinking you can help ¡®em,¡± Ace said. ¡°You wanna know why the boss lady sent us here? Fine. Cedric was owned by the Triumvirate. Now, he has information we need. He has resources we need. He¡¯s a rat that lives in the shit that just so happens to have a lot of pull in the Kaiju Society, and hell, believe me or not, but these kids are here because they were sold to him. You want insane? There it is. They¡¯re not wanted by their parents. Not by anyone from birth. Their poor folks got married and that¡¯s what popped out, and they¡¯re better off being useful to some capacity than just monsters lurking around aimlessly just waiting to kill the people you seemingly want to protect so fucking badly. If you want to save them, leave these damned kids.¡±


    My hands curled into fists. ¡°I¡¯m leaving with these kids, and you¡¯re not stopping me.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s what you¡¯re gonna choose?¡± Ace asked. ¡°You¡¯re gonna let them kill people?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not going to kill anyone, all right?¡± I snapped.


    ¡°Yeah, and how do you know that, kid?¡±


    ¡°Because killing is taught,¡± I growled, and I could almost hear the person who taught me that right here in this room¡ªLucas would have never said it. ¡°They don¡¯t have to learn that.¡±


    Ace shook his head slowly. ¡°Don¡¯t you know, even our resident superhero murders people, so what¡¯s stopping actual monsters from doing it? Morals? Nah, kid. We¡¯re way past that stage.¡±


    I heard a whir of noise behind me, followed by a blossoming golden light. Jane had her gun raised at me, still on the floor. I watched her bare her teeth, watched hate seep from her eyes.


    ¡°Try me,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s see how long you last without anything inside your body.¡±


    O¡¯Reiley shouted, ¡°Enough! We¡¯re wasting time. Ace, grab Cedric. Campbell, take his files and make sure you get a backup of his laptop on a hard drive. The Triumvirate isn¡¯t too happy that we¡¯re trying to steal their dealer, so let¡¯s get our asses moving before this place becomes a shooting range! Ruslana, on me¡ªyou¡¯re on my shoulder; make sure nothing happens with these goddamned rugrats. Kill ¡®em if you have to. Lieutenant, put down that rifle and take point. Now.¡±


    It took a second for Jane to follow orders like a good little bitch, but I wasn¡¯t focused on her anymore. The kids were my priority, they all were¡ªhowever many dozens of them there were.


    ¡°Tempest,¡± O¡¯Reiley said. ¡°I suggest you start picking off any hostels upstairs.¡±


    ¡°And leave you with the kids?¡± I snarled. ¡°No chance in hell.¡±


    His eyes narrowed, then he nodded slightly.


    The whir behind me hadn¡¯t slowed down. I spun, but Jane wasn¡¯t aiming at me.


    She was aiming at the wall, and the room beyond it and further than that. Those guns could send the likes of me through the air for blocks on end. On full power, they would decimate a Kaiju.


    Never mind what it would do to a child¡¯s body.


    I lunged, splintering the floor, aiming myself at Jane¡¯s body.


    Then O¡¯Reiley fired at me, sending a bolt of golden light slamming against my body. I smashed through a wall and hit a concrete pillar, knocking the air right out of me as I collapsed. I shook my head, stumbled to my feet. Another blast of light square to my chest punched me back against the pillar. Two more sent me through it. A fifth shot left my skin smoking and hair singed, my body weak and frail and my tongue curled up and dry. I wheezed, tried to see through the smoke of burning wood, but all I could see was¡­ sludge, red and gray sludge smeared across dozens of rooms. No. No. NoNoNo. I willed myself into the air, then onto the ground to stand.


    Every single one of the rooms was empty. Nothing. Not even carcasses. Bodies.


    The faintest spark of golden light zapped between my fingers as I crouched over the visceral remains of¡­ something. Something glowing red hot and producing noxious vapors. That must have been a child, but I couldn¡¯t tell, couldn¡¯t focus, not as I stood up, and not as I stared at Jane and her vague form through the hazy smoke just beyond the holes she¡¯d burnt through the wall. She didn¡¯t have the time to put up her rifle. I punched her, and that¡¯s all it really took to put my knuckles through her jaw, her neck, her head, and carried me into the next wall to a stop.


    Her body collapsed behind me, slumping to the ground. I looked at O¡¯Reiley next.


    His mouth went thin¡ªnot angry, nor frightened, just simply not amused.


    ¡°You know what¡¯ll happen if you try,¡± he said to me, and¡­ I froze.


    And all I could do was watch as they left, gathering what they needed and nothing more. Not blinking and not talking, but working, because they had a goal, and were doing just that.


    ¡°You¡¯ll ask us ¡®why¡¯ one day,¡± Ace said eventually, brushing past, ¡°it¡¯s ¡®cause we¡¯re the bad guys. Nothing more, nothin¡¯ less. We all want L.O. to be what it once was, and that can only really happen if we do shit like this to get the upper hand.¡± He nudged me with his elbow. ¡°Don¡¯t beat yourself up about the Kaiju. Millions of ¡®em die every single day, just like regular old people do all the time, and just like superhumans do every other week, am I right? It was probably for their own good. Olympia would have killed them, anyway.¡±


    ¡°She wouldn¡¯t have,¡± I whispered, so quiet I barely heard it.


    ¡°Never understood why you defend her so much,¡± he said, climbing the stairs behind Mr. Campbell. ¡°She¡¯s just like us, kid! It¡¯s just that she¡¯s got a different way of phrasing her business, ''cause at the end of the day, we want peace, and so does she..¡±


    Knuckles was the last to leave. She hadn¡¯t stopped staring at the warped slagheap of iron that was once a birdcage for a girl small enough to fit inside of it, though not comfortably. Her wings weren¡¯t anywhere near the right shape for that, but¡­ My stomach sank as I turned away from the rooms and the stairwell, my wet scarlet hands quaked, my throat tightened and tongue fattened as I chose to ace Cedric¡¯s now empty, ransacked office instead. I felt Knuckles¡¯ eyes on me, felt her almost reach out and touch me, but as she always seemed to do, she vanished silently.


    And I was left alone in the bowels of Club Roho, letting my eyes burn.

 Issue #24: Humanity Sucks, What Else Is On?

    It only took nine days for me to come across the first headline asking the question on everyone¡¯s mind. Where Is Olympia? It was strange, admittedly, seeing the headline scroll across a television screen in the middle of nowhere, Arizona. Another world filled with Kaiju and supervillains and responsibilities that were gnawing at me the longer I spent away, but my absence was forcing the Olympiad more into action, so I guess that was something good coming from all this. Adam was making a name for himself as more Kaiju popped up, and supervillains who wanted a piece of the pie got put down like dogs in a back alley. The world was falling in love with my step-brother the more time he spent in the sun, and I hated to admit it, but his smile glinted in the sunlight, too.


    All I could do was watch it happen, because I packed up and left for a few days. Yeah, I know, the guilt was already buzzing in my ear, so thinking I was a coward wasn¡¯t going to help me make the decision of going back to New Olympus any easier when I was kicking myself every day. I just needed¡­ time. I cracked after that night in Club Roho. Couldn¡¯t do much of anything without feeling numb and empty because I had watched children get mowed down in front of me and couldn¡¯t do a fucking thing about it. Gods, so much for being Zeus¡¯ daughter when a damned special grade rifle could put me on my ass. The self-loathing was seeping into my bloodstream more often these days, but I was used to it by now. It wasn¡¯t the first time I¡¯d felt like this, anyway.


    I was pretty used to not being able to help people when they needed me the most.


    Adam, though, was a media darling. He was on every other late night show, filling the screen of whatever dingy motel I ended up at every night. Every channel. Every broadcast. The world wanted to know more about him, and I did, too. But, like all Capes, he had media training. He smiled the perfect smile, told the perfect lie. Vomited up all the right buzzwords that would light up social media and the interviewer¡¯s faces. I grew up in Maine with my aunt and uncle. Mom¡­ I didn¡¯t know her much, and she didn¡¯t leave a lot behind. She was always so busy helping people, you know? She was a field medic, and died in combat two year after I was born. It hurts, still does, and all I want to do is be just like her¡ªsave people until I can¡¯t anymore. What a load of horseshit.


    But the world lapped it up, because Olympia might have a new brother. They asked about his powers, and if there was a chance if he and I were related, but he was smart, played his cards close to his chest, and smiled the question off and waved it aside. I never saw her at the family cookouts, he would say, then they would all laugh. Maybe if she tells us who she really is, then I might finally get to know some of my family. It¡¯s been lonely the past few years, and I can¡¯t wait to meet my sister one day. And to that, they¡¯ll always ask him: So then, where is Olympia now?


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Paul,¡± he said in his latest interview. ¡°Maybe she quit being a hero.¡±


    For the record, he was wrong. I hadn¡¯t given up on being a superhero. I just needed time away from the constant noise and hassle that was New Olympus. Dealing with Ava was a problem I wasn¡¯t emotionally ready for yet, because I knew exactly how I would react the second I saw her again. I was trying to step away from that side of myself, anyway. The trigger-ready anger that bubbled up so quickly, that reacted so violently and suddenly. Call it growing up, because yes, running away was something grown ups did when shit got hard, but then again, most grown ups didn¡¯t have the permanent site and smell of burning children seared into their brains. So if Adam wanted to talk badly about me, then fine¡ªit didn¡¯t really matter to me, anyway. I would be pretty bitter, too, if I was forced to eat a mouthful of tarmac and brick on my first time out in the field.


    Those were the thoughts I was forcing to circle through my mind to stop myself from getting pissed off. I was getting sick of thinking the same things over and over, but as I lost count doing crunches, running, sparring with myself, and pacing around in this little dingy motel room, it was the one thing keeping me sane. Thinking about being a superhero was taxing, but knowing that they were still talking about me even though I had technically vanished was still somewhat comforting. The humans really do care, was a thought that had popped up recently in my time away. But soon enough, reality was going to hit me like a freight train and send me crashing back down to earth. I told myself that this break was what I needed. To stretch my legs and loosen my hair and just let the world pass me by for a few seconds as I watched from a ridge of puffy clouds.


    It was fun for all of two days, and then I started feeling the need to do something again. I had gotten so used to doing things all day and every day that having all this time on my hands left me feeling wasted, useless, guilty, even, because my purpose had always been to kill villains.


    And I wasn¡¯t even doing that anymore.


    Cool it, Ry, I thought, laying on the floor, sweaty, panting, because I had just come back from crossing the States because I was starting to get sick and tired of seeing the same ceiling. Relax a little. You¡¯re on spring break, remember? The thing that teenagers your age always do.


    I lay there panting, sweating into the shag carpet, listening to the audience laugh at another joke Adam told. The tv was the only thing illuminating the darkness, making it shine a dull blue.


    This wasn¡¯t bad, I figured. Just a few more days of this and I would be fine. Some peace and quiet never harmed anybody, and it wasn¡¯t like I was sitting on my butt all day doing nothing. I was dragging along rotting train carriages, flying at speeds I¡¯d never before. My powers really were that little bit better now. Stronger. Faster. My senses were more, well, sensitive. I was more agile in the air, something I had always struggled with compared to other fliers. I pivoted better, maintained more force behind my punches (judging by the craters I left in the Nevada desert, at least) on the follow through. I flew fast enough for sound to become dull and droning. And yet¡­


    You still couldn¡¯t save them, no matter how powerful you¡¯ve gotten.


    My phone began vibrating, lost in a pile of clothes spilling out of my backpack. I let it continue for a while, but whoever was calling was persistent, shattering the silence around me. My lips thinned as I shut my eyes. A pit was forming in my gut, vast and cold, swallowing me up as more laughter came from the late night talk show. I wanted to be sick. To cover my ears and just wait until both my phone and the television stopped making sounds, but neither did, because the world was spinning underneath me right now and wouldn¡¯t stop just because I was feeling sorry for myself. Exhaustion wasn¡¯t supposed to be part of the job, but opening my eyes again, and letting myself bleed back into the world left me feeling dizzy and tired and empty to my bones.


    I sighed as I sat upright, sweat on my brown and running down my stomach. I pulled up my shirt to wipe down my face as I hovered toward the bed. I expected to see Bianca or Em, Denny, too, and sometimes the occasional call from a private number that was probably Poseidon.


    My automatic response was to cut the call or let my phone keep ringing itself to bits.


    But this phone number was new to me, unsaved. It came with messages, though. Messages that sapped the air out of my lungs because I had forgotten about being Rylee for a very long time.


    I sat down on the edge of the bed, hearing its squeaky springs complain. I readied myself, then I picked up. ¡°Hey, Brett,¡± I said, but my heart wasn¡¯t in it. My voice was flat. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    I squeezed my eyes shut and massaged them as silence stretched for several seconds. This world that Rylee operated in felt so, so small now, but without it, I would be relying on Ava for forever. I wanted something of my own. Something that I did that wasn¡¯t related to Olympia and her mess of a social life. But it was hard to continue thinking that way after the past few weeks.


    But that same cold desperation was still in my body, swimming around my bloodstream.


    ¡°No, no, I¡¯m great, kid! Just fine!¡± He could act, I¡¯ll tell you that much. ¡°What about you, huh? How¡¯s your lovely Thursday night going? The weather is fantastic here in Los Angeles.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s¡ª¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s the comic you promised me?¡± Brett said flatly. ¡°It¡¯s been three weeks, Rylee.¡±


    I massaged my temples, leaning forward and shutting my eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Brett.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡± he asked. ¡°I think I might¡¯ve heard wrong. That sounded like an admittance.¡±


    ¡°It is,¡± I muttered. ¡°Everything about the comic slipped my mind. New Olympus kinda fell apart the day you left, and I¡¯ve been wrapped up in trying to help people figure out how they¡¯re¡ª¡±


    ¡°Look, kid,¡± Brett said, cutting me off. ¡°I love the stories you come up with, because they¡¯re always so sad and depressing¡ªand really, my heart goes out to those poor, poor people who lost their loved ones that day¡ªbut sad and depressing doesn¡¯t really sell ¡®action superhero comic book,¡¯ now, does it? Especially to the crowd that is gonna hate seeing Olympia¡¯s face in book stores and malls.¡± I didn¡¯t have an answer, so I let him continue. ¡°I know I said we could make a story out of you, a sensation that would blow most of these hacks right out of the water.¡±


    ¡°You said you could make something great out of me,¡± I said quietly.


    Silence. Silence for a long time. ¡°I did,¡± he said softly, losing the spunk in his voice. ¡°But I can only do that if you want to make something of yourself, too. I¡¯m an agent, not a manager¡ªnot yours, at least. I¡¯ve got to focus on what I can work with, and right now, your little friends from high school seemingly don¡¯t want to do that, either. I¡¯m cashing in and heading out, and I guess you missed the train for what could have been your destination to mark yourself down in history. It sounds big and dreamy and oh-so-wonderful, and that¡¯s because it is. I believe in that kinda stuff. I just wish you had too before you gave up on yourself, but I¡¯m starting to think you never did.¡±


    I sat still, completely still, not knowing what to do or say. It was like downing ice cold water on a hot day, except it wasn¡¯t refreshing, but made your teeth hurt and your throat raw. I couldn¡¯t be angry at Brett. He had given me a chance, and I had screwed it up. I didn¡¯t know what to say to him that would even make him reconsider, and by the sounds of it, Atomville was going out of production, too. I didn¡¯t have any weight in my corner anymore. Hadn¡¯t spoken to Em ever since the Kaiju attack on 12th Avenue after she snapped her arm. Gods, I should check on her.


    I sighed for a few seconds, blowing air through my teeth. ¡°Yup,¡± I said. ¡°Yeah, I¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± he replied. ¡°It¡¯s not the first time I¡¯ve had to make this kind of call, but it doesn¡¯t get easier hearing a kid¡¯s heart shatter. You¡¯re still young. Still got something great going on. You¡¯ve just got to put in the work. It won¡¯t be with me, but maybe someone else will pick you up, but if you do end up doing great stuff, then you¡¯ve got my number. Until then¡­¡± Brett sighed a little, then said, ¡°If you are a superhero, Rylee, you should consider saving yourself some time.¡±


    He cut the call, leaving me on my bed, staring at the carpet, holding the phone to my ear.


    I wanted to be so many things in that moment: angry, bitter, but I had done that to myself, dug my own grave, signed away any chance I might have had at not relying on a supervillain for my future, because it all came back to one single thought: if I was a better superhero, I wouldn¡¯t be here. I wouldn¡¯t be thinking about dead kids. Wouldn¡¯t let my phone slip from my hand and bounce off the carpet, taking my way out of this mess with it. There was always a little more to do, always more to push for. The bar really was right there above my head, but the more I reached for it, the further away it felt. Things used to be easy for me. I woke up heading to school knowing that I stopped a bank robbery last night before coming home and finishing my math homework. I won medals and held trophies. Flirted with the idea that Bianca and I could be more than friends. I walked around keeping this secret that would change everyone¡¯s life around me if I let it all out.


    Being a superhero used to be fun, this thing that would keep me awake rolling over in my bed to sneak a look at my costume every night, but my mom hates me, I¡¯m guessing my friends do too, the city needs my help but I seemingly can¡¯t get that right, either. I was playing chicken with a supervillain who had a leash around my throat, threatening to upend my life once and for all. It was this series of cascading events that just went on and on and fuck, I wanted to catch a break, all right? Was that so bad? I could swallow it like I always did. Lift up my chin and take it because that¡¯s what superheroes did, and that¡¯s what they were supposed to do. Zeus¡¯ mighty daughter, the heir to New Olympus. The girl who was going to rebuild the pillars that this city was once built on.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Well, there were rats fighting in the floorboards, and there was mold growing on the ceiling. I missed mom¡¯s meatloaf and wanted to hang out with my friends at lunch all over again.


    A part of me figured this would be easier if I wasn¡¯t half-human. Less fiddling emotions, more decisive actions. Dad never stuttered, but¡­ I guess mom didn¡¯t stumble around either. When dad kicked it, she never stopped moving along. Never stopped raising me. She stayed strong.


    I pushed my fingers through my hair, the realization dawning on me that I might just miss my mom. I smiled a little, because thinking it was admitting that she was right about being a superhero. About it not working. About me not being cut from the same cloth that dad had been.


    But you know me. I was stubborn, and that wouldn¡¯t change any time soon.


    A knock on the door startled me awake at some time around three in the morning. My mouth was stale, my throat was hot and dry. I blinked and sat upright, untangling myself from the rough bedsheets. The tv was still on, playing some late night commercial about some guy talking about how he could teach your kid how to fly out of the back of his van. My phone was dead. The lights were glaring. More knocking on the door, each hit harder. Who was it now? I was planning on touring a few more states and their villain hotspots to get my blood pumping in the morning. A girl needed her rest if she wanted to get her head on straight and remove a couple heads in the process.


    I had convinced myself that at least a few more days away would be good for me. I never said anything about giving up. All I needed was to get my head straight again, because at some point, I got lost in the constant fights and arguments and the gutter trash under my nails. I was planning on coming back better, more focused, but that was supposed to be in the morning, not right now with someone banging so hard against the door it made my head hurt with each knock.


    So maybe it was the sleep deprivation playing tricks on me when I opened the door and found nobody waiting outside. Residue of stress messing with my head, making me hear things that didn¡¯t really exist right now. I stood there in my t-shirt and sports shorts, touched by a humid gust. Moths fluttered around the light above my door. The other rooms in the motel were silent except for an ancient radio playing hit songs from the past three decades. I frowned, looked around once more, then shut my door. Maybe it was just the wind, I thought. Or some speedster playing a prank on me. I yawned, turning back to my bed, dragging myself across the tiny room until¡ª


    Lucas was sitting on the sole armchair in the room, right there in the corner. He was smoking a cigarette that illuminated his eyes. He stared at me, sucking on the tube of nicotine.


    I glanced at the locked window and the recently locked door, then at him. ¡°How¡¯re you¡ª¡±


    ¡°Sleep muddles your senses,¡± he muttered. ¡°It was the same with your old man.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t explain how you got in here,¡± I said. ¡°How long have you been sitting¡ª¡±


    ¡°You talk when you sleep, right in between your snoring.¡± He continued smoking, filling the room with the acrid scent. ¡°Something about a girl. Bianca, I¡¯m guessing. And Olympia, too.¡±


    How the hell did he find me?


    As if he read my mind, Lucas said, ¡°Tracking device,¡± like that made perfect sense, which it didn¡¯t, because he had taught me how to pick through my clothes for them. That¡¯s why finding Ava¡¯s shadow was such a pain because I couldn¡¯t find anything in my room or on my clothes.


    Which left one place left that I hadn¡¯t checked, but that would mean¡­


    ¡°Did you put a freaking tracker inside of me?¡±


    Lucas killed his cigarette on the coffee table beside him. ¡°Precautions.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a violation of¡­ fuck, that¡¯s a violation of me!¡±


    ¡°You were a baby,¡± he explained, waving his hand. ¡°I was just being cautious.¡±


    ¡°You know where I was born,¡± I said, lowering my voice¡ªthe walls here were thin. ¡°I couldn¡¯t exactly just run away one day never to be seen again. Explain yourself better, Lucas.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± he said. ¡°I was being cautious for us. Humanity. Because when someone like you vanishes, it sets off the alarm bells. I mean, Jesus, kid, you picked this place to bury your head in?¡±


    I sat on the edge of my bed and spread my arms. ¡°It¡¯s simple, and it¡¯s cheap, and when I saved a bar about two miles away from a biker gang, I didn¡¯t have to spend the entire night trying to figure out who¡¯s boss works for who and why they have an agenda against a hole in the wall. Hell, they even give me free beer! I don¡¯t get drunk off it, but did you know how many calories are in those bottles? I swear, it makes me wonder why I even bother fueling up on food all the time.¡±


    Lucas nodded slowly, staring at me. I wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d blinked. ¡°So,¡± he said slowly, as if speaking to a child, ¡°dealing with a pack of bikers is what you want to be doing with yourself.¡±


    It beats trying to create a web of conspiracies like some lunatic at midnight. But I kept that thought to myself, because the lunatic in front of me was very good at playing the common man.


    I looked away, avoiding his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not hiding,¡± I said, defending myself. ¡°I just needed a breather before I came back to New Olympus. Everything in that damned city is rotting, Lucas.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s supposed to be your job to clear out that rot before it kills everything.¡±


    I nodded, not too impressed. ¡°Right. And how¡¯s that been going so far?¡±


    ¡°Oh, cut the bullshit, Ry,¡± he said dryly. ¡°I didn¡¯t come here to console some self-pitying teenager having a mood swing. You have a duty, so you do that duty. Come on let¡¯s go, we¡¯re wasting time sitting in this damned place. It makes me feel filthy just sitting here in this armchair.¡±


    I waved at the door. ¡°New Olympus is that way, Mr. Superhero. Go save ¡®em.¡±


    His eyes narrowed, his jaw setting in place. There was something unnerving with how easily his face blanked. ¡°I¡¯m gonna assume that something major happened for you to react this way, because the Rylee I know wouldn¡¯t be so willing to sit on her butt in goddamned Arizona.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± I said, shrugging. ¡°Arizona ain¡¯t so bad once you get used to the heat.¡±


    ¡°Rylee,¡± he said, his tone flat and cold, sapping the air out of the room. Lucas waited for me to crack, to break and explain myself. We had gone through interrogation techniques before, but I wasn¡¯t a very patient person, especially with bad guys. I knew to play the long game, knew that Lucas would eventually stop tapping his finger against the arm rest, and stop staring at me with those cold green eyes, or at least move a little so his entire body wasn¡¯t facing me for several minutes. The distance between us was getting smaller, eaten up by the simple intensity in him.


    I did, finally, sigh quietly and lean forward. Lucas tilted his head, waiting for me to speak. I ended up telling him almost everything, except for the parts about playing a supervillain. He would find out one day, but until then, all he did was become more and more stoic as I explained what had been going on over the past month in Lower Olympus. He knew the situation was bad, but judging by how he stopped moving entirely, he didn¡¯t know how bad. I had been giving him updates, sure, sending him texts and voice messages when I could, but when I reached the part about the children, their screaming, hearing them screech and bark and cry and try and fight against people who didn¡¯t even bother looking them in the eyes as they pulled the trigger¡­ he told me to stop talking. It was the first thing he had said in minutes, and I obliged, sick to my stomach.


    Neither of us said anything for a while. The TV continued playing ads, oblivious to us.


    ¡°The Jericho Triad,¡± Lucas said, rubbing the stubble on his jaw. ¡°Lucian would never¡ª¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not in charge anymore,¡± I said. ¡°The gang¡¯s under new management right now.¡± Still, his reply set off a silent alarm in me. A long time ago, Ava had said that my father and hers had shaken hands. That there was a reason the Olympians never bothered with Lucian¡¯s gang. The Olympians who were still alive weren¡¯t big enough fans of me to answer my questions, but I had one sitting right in front of me. ¡°How would you know that Lucian wouldn¡¯t? He was a villain.¡±


    Lucas nodded slowly, mind far away as he said, ¡°Yeah, but not that kind of villain.¡±


    ¡°Shit is shit, doesn¡¯t matter who it comes from.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re accusing us of being in bed with supervillains, Rylee, then say it.¡±


    I glared at him. ¡°I would just like to know if my mentor is fucking with me.¡±


    He stared at me, silent. ¡°I don¡¯t have to explain the actions we took to you. Times were different than they are now, and it¡¯s as simple as that. Your father understood that better than you.¡±


    I swore, shaking my head. ¡°Right, of course he did. Zeus knew freaking everything because he was just so awesome and powerful and made a deal with a goddamned supervillain.¡±


    ¡°What, you¡¯re angsting about the legitimacy of your own father now?¡± he asked, spite in his voice. ¡°Grow up, Rylee, and understand that decisions had to be made. Lucian was evil. A sick, twisted, god forsaken man who knew what he was doing. You think I was on board with it? You think everyone was? We fought in the dark and smiled in front of the cameras because of kids just like you who thought we were perfect, but news flash, Rylee¡ªwe shook hands with the devil and guess what? Lower Olympus was in its best shape for nearly a decade. Now look at it, Ry.¡±


    I stared at him, disgust in my mouth. ¡°You made a deal with a supervillain. A supervillain who nearly killed me. His daughter is running the show, and¡­ What, I shake her bloody hand?¡±


    ¡°That depends,¡± he said smoothly. ¡°How much do you want peace in Lower Olympus?¡±


    ¡°The hell kind of question is¡ª¡±


    ¡°Or do you want everyone to know that you cleaned the city up, as they take photos of you with whatever big bad is controlling it dead in your arms? Smiling I¡¯m sure, and covered in blood.¡±


    I dropped my voice to a whisper. ¡°Her men murdered dozens of children, Lucas.¡±


    ¡°Yes, they did,¡± he said calmly. ¡°And there¡¯s nothing worse than seeing a kid get killed in this mess that we live in, but her subordinates were working on their own accord, weren¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re making fucking excuses for a gang that murdered a bunch of trafficked kids!¡±


    Lucas looked at me, through me. ¡°What I¡¯m doing is trying to make you understand how that family operates. Lucian went on every outing, every smuggle, every bang, because he knew exactly how these people operate. Most of them are thugs with ill blood. Guys and girls who grew up already screwed up in the head and got stuck with an assault rifle and a job that lets them justify themselves. There are criminals, and then there are supervillains. The Rivera family is a dynasty, and has been for more decades than both you and I have been around combined. They¡¯re smart, they¡¯re calculating, they¡¯re manipulative, and do things that only benefit them, but it has to be logical. Make sense. From what you¡¯re telling me, his daughter is still new to this game, but she¡¯s learning quickly, and she¡¯s made mistakes, but she¡¯s still pointing in one direction and not taking any detours. Tell me, Rylee¡ªsit down, now, and tell me¡ªwhy she would want children dead.¡±


    I was simmering inside. I couldn¡¯t stop arcs of light jumping between my fingers. ¡°She¡¯s a supervillain, Lucas. Those people don¡¯t need any reason to do anything evil. I know that much.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not listening,¡± he said, leaning forward. ¡°Think. Why would she do it?¡±


    ¡°Why are you making me justify¡ª¡±


    ¡°Was she with them when it happened?¡±


    ¡°No, but¡ª¡±


    ¡°So think.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t believe the words coming out of his mouth. He wanted me to even consider the fact that a supervillain like Ava wouldn¡¯t kill those kids? She was the one who wanted us to get Cedric in the first place. She wanted us to grab him. She must have known about the kids, about this entire operation. My guess was that I wasn¡¯t filled in on most of the mission brief because of Ava¡¯s mole problem. Information was being kept tight so the Triumvirate didn¡¯t get one over her.


    But¡­ wasn¡¯t that also just another excuse? Some other thing keeping me ignorant?


    I didn¡¯t know. I did not know. There, was he happy, seeing the resignation creep into my eyes, making him sit back? I hadn¡¯t thought about it, because why should I? Kids were murdered. It was as simple as that. Ava was to blame because she had responsibility over her people. She knew, had to, but I didn¡¯t know if she did, but did it really matter? She was the one who gave O¡¯Reiley the gun, despite not being the one who pulled the trigger. Gods, this was the reason I didn¡¯t want to go back. I was jumping through hoops for these godforsaken creatures. Humans. Humans and their games and their deep-seated want to be higher than the rest of their species.


    And it¡¯s not any different back home, I thought bitterly.


    Fuck it. I needed some air before my body got any hotter and I ended up hurting Lucas.


    ¡°If you leave,¡± he said, just as I put my hand on the door, ¡°be prepared for what¡¯s next.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and what¡¯s that?¡± I asked over my shoulder, spitting the words.


    ¡°Your mom,¡± Lucas said, sighing. ¡°She¡¯s on the other side of that door.¡±

 Issue #25: Whatever You Say, Batman

    I hadn¡¯t moved in about thirty seconds, my hand still firmly squeezing the doorknob. My breathing was slow, and so was my heart, as if my body was terrified of Veronica somehow being able to hear it through the door. Is she actually standing outside right now? I didn¡¯t want to believe she was, because I was more prepared to face off against Ava than I was against my mom. I know what I said, all right? But seeing her again just after Lucas made my blood simmer and my gut boil was throwing my brain into survival mode. The superhero gig was supposed to have worked out by now, but I was deeper in the shit than I ever had been, and my mom was going to see that.


    It felt silly, reacting this way, as if I had been caught trying to sneak out of the house late at night. I had seen Europe and flown across Asia, been in brawls in the Mojave and had been so deep in the Atlantic that all I could tell you about it is that I was never going back down there with the creatures lurking around in the dark. I wasn¡¯t some kid, some teenager caught smoking pot in their bedroom, but hell, it felt that way. Slipping my hand off the doorknob was an answer to my mom being outside, because opening the door still felt like an admission of screwing up lately.


    ¡°Why is she here?¡± I asked, looking over my shoulder. ¡°To goad me into coming back?¡±


    ¡°Please,¡± he muttered. ¡°We both know Veronica wouldn¡¯t be the reason for that.¡±


    ¡°So why?¡± I said, turning to face him. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen her in months, Lucas.¡±


    ¡°I know all about the argument. Driving here takes a long time, and Ronnie talks a lot when the silence draws out¡ªI guess you got that from her.¡± He massaged underneath his eyes, silent for a moment, before he said, ¡°Your mom¡¯s no different than any other, you know that? She watches the news to make sure that you¡¯re still alive, ¡®cause she knows you¡¯re not going to answer her phone calls or her messages. She calls me from time to time and asks me how you¡¯re doing. Calls old Dennie, too, to check if you¡¯re eating and sleeping. So when you disappeared, she came to me and told me that we were going to look for you, which I was already planning on doing.¡±


    If she cared so much then she wouldn¡¯t have told me to get out of her fucking house.


    ¡°Yeah, well, you can leave and tell her I¡¯m fine.¡±


    Lucas tilted his head. ¡°I don¡¯t lie to people anymore.¡±


    I rolled my eyes, frustrated. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I eat and I sleep and I¡¯m alive. Happy?¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you go and tell her that yourself, Ry?¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m not the one who threw my clothes on the front lawn,¡± I snapped. Lucas remained quiet. I was forced to swallow my tongue. ¡°Whatever. Doesn¡¯t matter. Shit happens.¡±


    Lucas let the silence stretch on until my skin began to prickle. He leaned forward in his seat, rubbing his hands and the scar tissue on his knuckles. ¡°You know,¡± he said, ¡°I sometimes wonder how differently things would have turned out if Zeus hadn¡¯t died fighting Titan.¡±


    My mouth drew into a thin line. ¡°I guess that makes both of us.¡±


    ¡°I think,¡± he said, pointing at the door, ¡°that he would have told you to talk to her.¡±


    ¡°He would have told me to stop bitching and get back to New Olympus.¡±


    Lucas chuckled dryly. ¡°Yeah, he was brash, wasn¡¯t he? But he loved Ronnie.¡±


    I shook my head, stopping my mind from allowing buried memories to resurface. ¡°Why are you bringing any of this up? I¡¯m coming back, all right? Just¡­ in a few days. I need time, Lucas.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to break the news to you, Ry, but when people like you take time off, people lose their lives, get hurt, lose everything they cared about. You hate Lucian¡¯s daughter. You hate what she did. And your answer to all of it is to turn your back on the problem for two weeks?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t meet his eyes as I pushed my hand through my hair. ¡°I¡¯m tired,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°What was that?¡±


    ¡°I said I¡¯m exhausted, Lucas.¡± I spread my arms, giving him a look at me, at the scars on my forearms and shoulders, down my thighs and across my midriff. Some were new. Some were old. It was a body that should belong to someone a lot older than I was. Someone who had heroic stories to tell about saving cities and the world a few times over. Not some teenager that¡¯s been in too many fights to count that she could barely even remember anymore. ¡°I¡¯ve been fighting for the humans for years. New supervillains. New problems. Mobsters. Cartels. You made me miss my graduation, you sparked the argument that I had with my mom, but¡­ I guess I was the one who chose to still go on the mission. I don¡¯t want this gig to start feeling like a chore. I want to help people without not caring about what I¡¯m doing, and after I saw those kids die, then¡­ I¡­ ¡°


    ¡°You said you wanted to be great, didn¡¯t you?¡± he asked. ¡°Greatness doesn¡¯t give up.¡±


    My jaw tensed. ¡°That¡¯s easy for you to say. You gave up with the rest of them.¡±


    His eyes narrowed. ¡°We didn¡¯t give up. The world changed, so¡ª¡±


    ¡°So you push it all on me, right? Because that makes perfect sense.¡±


    Lucas stopped rubbing the tissue on his knuckles. ¡°You¡¯re a superhero, Ry.¡±


    ¡°I know, Lucas. I know that¡¯s what I am.¡±


    ¡°The city you left needs your help.¡±


    ¡°God, I freaking get it¡ª¡±


    ¡°A girl,¡± he said quietly, ¡°the same age as you died on your watch, and you were there, and so was I, and so were her friends, your friends now, as they put her casket in the ground. But no, Rylee wasn¡¯t there¡ªOlympia was there, in the sky, amongst the rain clouds because she¡¯s a c¡ª¡±


    ¡°Say that word, Lucas, and you¡¯re going to find out what life in a wheelchair is like.¡±


    Lucas stood up, his heavy trench coat hanging loosely off his shoulders. He was still muscular, taught, even after all these years away from his gear and the scene. ¡°I fought alongside men who would beat you half way to Sunday and not break a sweat, but I¡¯m not here to fight you. I¡¯m here to make you understand that you¡¯ve got two options. One is outside that door, and it¡¯s the option that¡¯ll get your head screwed on right, because you seemingly want to give up, and Ronnie would make you hang it all up.¡± He kicked something at his feet¡ªa briefcase. ¡°Two is right here.¡±


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    I didn¡¯t realize my hands were curled until I forced myself to breathe. ¡°God, I hate you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and what¡¯s new?¡±


    ¡°You make me feel like shit for everything I¡¯m doing,¡± I said, the words spilling out of my mouth. I swallowed, but my throat felt raw. ¡°I¡¯m trying my best, Lucas. I really am. But you keep using what happened in the Alps like some kind of warning, like I¡¯ve forgotten. I can¡¯t forget.¡± My voice was starting to catch, to feel hot in my mouth. ¡°How am I supposed to forget about her? I fucked up. I get it. I¡¯m not the superhero you want me to be. I¡¯m emotional and I think with my feelings and I¡¯m not like the rest of your sidekicks, but guess what, Lucas, they¡¯re dead, too.¡±


    And so are the Olympians, your teammates. So stop it. Stop talking to me this way.


    Like I was the first person in his life to screw up, but he had blood on his hands. He reeked of it. He could smoke all he wanted, drink from the bottle he kept in that brown paper bag in his office, but that scent was still there. It was always going to be there. A part of me didn¡¯t want to end up like Lucas, and he knew that, could see it on my face¡ªguilty, angry, bitter, because there was nothing he could do about what had happened because he was just human. But that wasn¡¯t an excuse. Not to him. He had gotten kids killed and he carried that around with him everywhere.


    And I hated him for making me lie to Bianca about what happened to her brother.


    But I didn¡¯t grow up with dad. I grew up with Lucas. I didn¡¯t have anybody else.


    My eyes stung, and I swore, dragging my arm across them. ¡°Gods, just leave, Lucas.¡±


    ¡°Rylee¡ª¡±


    ¡°I said leave!¡± I snapped. The sound shot out of my mouth. The TV screen cracked, and the empty beer bottles on the table shattered. Lucas flinched, covering his right ear and cursing.


    ¡°Right in the tinnitus,¡± he muttered, eyes still screwed in pain. Lucas shook his head, worked his ear, then stared at me. ¡°You know I can¡¯t. I made a promise to your old man, to your mom, and to you, too. And Christ, kid, before you say it, I know that I¡¯ve said those same exact words to kids your age before. I¡¯m tough on you ¡®cause I don¡¯t know what else to be with you. I¡¯ve tried the gentle way, and got my best friend murdered. I tried again and spent weeks trying to find their body.¡± Lucas¡¯ face was still stony, his eyebrows still low, shading his eyes. ¡°Have you figured that I feel guilty being the one to teach you this shit? ¡®Cause if you screw up, that¡¯s on me. I didn¡¯t teach you enough. I didn¡¯t guide you enough. Didn¡¯t put enough in your head to make the right decisions at the right time, and how am I supposed to do that with how you are right now?¡±


    ¡°And what am I right now?¡± I said, spitting the words. ¡°Tell me, Lucas. Teach me.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not human,¡± he snapped. Silence. Quieter now, he said, ¡°How am I supposed to tell you how to do anything if you¡¯ve gotten it in your head that you¡¯re not even one of us?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s easier for me to think that way when I¡¯ve got you judging me all the time.¡±


    ¡°Jesus, kid. You¡¯re what we¡¯ve got left,¡± Lucas said. ¡°We don¡¯t have the Olympians anymore. Poseidon and Ares and Heka might be Capes, but they¡¯re shadows of who they were. Cleo is dead. Hermes is dead. The people I fought with are dead. Whoever¡¯s left can¡¯t do anything without the government giving them a document telling them what to do. I¡¯m harsh on you, Ry, because I want you to keep being better than them. Than us.¡± He was in front of me now, close enough for me to smell the faint scent of cigarettes in his sweat. ¡°I want¡­¡± His voice trailed off. He shook his head slowly and massaged his jaw. ¡°I want you to be what I thought I could be.¡±


    ¡°You just said I¡¯m not human,¡± I whispered. ¡°A little hard for you, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°All I wanted was to be human. Be better. But you¡¯re not like me and I understand that, and thank God, because you can do things that I could have only dreamed of, and I¡¯m not talking about flying or your super strength, Ry. I¡¯m talkin¡¯ about being what people actually need to save them, not some bastard in body armor beating thugs half to death every night.¡± He put his hand on my shoulder, gentle, not squeezing it. ¡°I don¡¯t have a right to tell you what to do. Lord knows I¡¯ve done that too many times and gotten too many people hurt. Stop if you want. Step away from all of this and go hug your mom and tell her you missed her and her cooking and how she kisses your forehead every morning before she leaves for work before she¡¯s gone and you don¡¯t get the chance again. But one day you¡¯re gonna look back on this moment and realize that the costume only fit one person for a reason. Putting it on is the most human thing you can do, and honestly, it¡¯s what we need right about now with monsters pulling the trigger on children locked in dark rooms.¡±


    I wanted to shrug off his hand, to look him in the eyes and tell him to leave.


    Instead, I stood in place, not really knowing why I stayed there.


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know where I¡¯d start with Ava,¡± I whispered.


    Lucas grunted quietly, moving aside to open the door. ¡°Do what I couldn¡¯t and do what you do best: think with your feelings, act with your head, and hit the broad like your Zeus¡¯ girl.¡±


    Once he left, I pressed my ear against the door and shut my eyes, listening to his shoes crunch against the gravel outside. I heard a car door open, then, moments later, a quiet voice.


    ¡°Was Rylee in there?¡± mom asked. Hearing her voice again pushed me away from the door, but nearly made me reach toward the door handle. ¡°Let me go speak to her. Maybe she¡ª¡±


    ¡°No cigar,¡± Lucas said. ¡°She must¡¯ve figured out about the tracker. Found it in the sink.¡±


    ¡°But I heard someone shouting. A girl shouting, Lucas. If you¡¯re lying to me¡ª¡±


    ¡°Then may Zeus throw one of his lightning bolts down and kill me right here.¡±


    The sky was clear tonight, cloudless all the way to the glimmering stars. It stayed that way until the sun peeked over the horizon and the car vanished down the lonely strip of tarmac. Before they left, as I had sat on the floor of the motel room, my back to the door, someone had knocked on it just three times, curt and polite and patient, waiting, because Veronica knew someone was in here, but she wasn¡¯t going to barge her way in. If anyone¡¯s in there, she had said, I just want to talk to you, just for a moment. It¡¯s about a tracker? It¡¯s weird, I know, but I was wondering if you saw anyone in this room before you came? Then she waited, just like I did. Well, that¡¯s alright. But if anyone comes back around, just tell them that I¡¯m looking for them, and I hope they¡¯re safe.


    And I miss them, she had whispered, before saying, but that¡¯s a lot for a stranger, so I¡¯ll be leaving now. My phone number is on this, just in case you see a girl with blonde hair around here.


    Then she slipped a coupon underneath the door with a number scribbled on it, and that was that. The closest I had been to mom in months. I had picked up the little burger coupon, had read the number again and again, and couldn¡¯t help but smile a little because I knew this number. Hell, it was hard to forget it, because for the longest time, before I made any friends, it was the only number I had in my phone contacts. Eighteen years, and Veronica still hadn¡¯t changed her number.


    Since then, I had showered, stuffed my clothes into my backpack, and tied back my hair. I was about to leave, and had a good idea on where I was heading to this time, but the suitcase Lucas left behind was still sitting there on the carpet. I stared at it over my shoulder, my hand on the doorknob. Be human, I thought. It sounded stupid, to be frank. Why be one of them when I was what I was? Why lean into that side of me when I needed to be powerful right that second?


    I found myself kneeling on the floor, popping the briefcase open.


    My Olympia gear was inside of it, and it looked¡­ clean. I pulled it out, and it unfurled as I held it up to the light streaming through the wispy blinds. It caught the golden lightning bolt going down the chest area, and the red and blue, nearly a deep crimson and even deeper blue, was stitched and new and didn¡¯t have rips and tears in it. I smelt it, and heck, it smelt clean. The boots that came with my gear had newer soles, flexible, grippy, with the part of it that would go up my calf a little stiffer, meaning it was newer, tighter fabric. I felt like a kid at Christmas, wanting to try out the new toy before it was even fully out of its wrapping. But then a note slipped out of it.


    And all it said was, I hope you like it. I used your body spray to make it smell the way you liked the rest of your clothes to. I don¡¯t know if you chose right, but someone will be glad you did.


    I couldn¡¯t help but smile. ¡°I finally look like a respectable superhero again,¡± I whispered.


    I guess that also means that I was going to have to deal with Ava properly.

 Issue #26: The Time I Got Transported To Hell! Part 1

    It wasn¡¯t every day that I got the chance to watch a murder happen right in front of my eyes. I usually happened to be the one stopping a bullet or a knife or a fist from ending someone¡¯s life, or it was me doing the killing. This time, though, as I sat crouched on my haunches, my feet planted to the side of a sooty old factory building, I let it play out beneath me. Being back in New Olympus didn¡¯t feel any different than when I had left¡ªthe smog was still thick, and the crimes were still plenty enough to go around. I hadn¡¯t gotten to Ava yet, because my attention had been pulled elsewhere by a series of trucks leaving the Golden Guild a few minutes after I arrived.


    Judging by old tire marks, more had either just gone back inside or just left. It had taken me about a day to get back home, not exactly shooting my way through the sky. The operation had been going on longer than the few days I had been gone, I¡¯d just caught them in the middle of it.


    Five armed trucks rumbling through the night, making their way through opposing gang territory without a pause, blatantly obvious as they carved through Lower Olympus. I had been torn about knocking on Ava¡¯s window right away and ripping her a new one and then talking it out with her as she pulled herself together, or I could have followed the trucks and seen what she was still planning on doing tonight. The Guild itself hadn¡¯t looked badly off. In fact, the lights outside of it were on, and the busted pillars and rubble scattered across the street had been repaired and cleaned up. Business, apparently, was booming, so I had decided on the latter of following them.


    I just wanted to make sure Ava knew I was back in town, and not on her side anymore. Send her a message that said hey, you¡¯re fucked, and I dare you to screw with me some more.


    If it was another one of her operations, I wanted to see what she was planning, what she was doing, and if I could be the wrench in her works, then I was looking forward to making her life hell. I wasn¡¯t sure if O¡¯Reiley was in there with them, or if she¡¯d sent any of her more important superhumans on this little night time mission. I figured it didn¡¯t really matter, did it? Hindering any kind of her progress would put a smile on my face, and it would also stop any incidents from happening again on my watch. I was smart enough to watch and wait, but knew enough about Ava and the Jericho Triad to act with force and nothing less when the time came.


    Ava and I weren¡¯t going to be seeing eye to eye anymore, it was as simple as that. If I wanted this place clean, then I was going to do it myself. How, you asked? Easy, clear ¡®em out.


    Spring break was coming to an end, and hunting season was starting in New Olympus. I wasn¡¯t going to discriminate anymore. Ava¡¯s people just didn¡¯t have a valid hall pass with me. I might not be the brightest bulb in the room, but I figured that if I wanted my city a little clean, then I was going to make sure of it the one way I knew how¡ªthrough forcing the villains back into the dark where they belonged. I was out of ideas and I was out of patience. I tried, I really did try. I fell into the trap of thinking a supervillain could give me what I wanted in my life. The devil doesn¡¯t come with horns and a pointed tail and all that. I made a mistake, and I was owning up to it.


    I still remembered what Lucas had said about growing up, about thinking and making the hard choice for the sake of everyone else, but hell, he had also said that times were different now, and I had no reason whatsoever to dance to the same tune the Olympians had. Was it ballsy for me to assume that I knew better than someone who had saved the world? Maybe. Did I really care?


    I think we all knew the answer to that question before it was even asked.


    But getting back to the topic at hand: the murder. In fairness, though, to the dozen or so armed guards who had spilled out of the trucks, it wasn¡¯t so much as a string of murders as it was a massacre that almost made me sick to the stomach. I had followed them deeper into Gallows, a borough that was really just an industrial district. Steelworks and the lot around these parts. Reinforced concrete that could withstand superhuman attacks. Speedster-proof glass. That kind of stuff. Villains had tried in the past, but Damage Control would leave them in the newspaper¡¯s obituary pages if anyone so much as glanced Gallows¡¯ way. That had been their destination, and in case you had missed how my life had been going for the past several days, I wasn¡¯t in the loop with the Jericho Triad anymore to know what they had been planning on doing. My guess was an assault on a few factories, maybe to get some more resources or gain ground on the Triumvirate.


    At least, that had been the plan before Knuckles had punched a hole through a mercenary''s chest. It had been as simple as getting out of the truck, turning to her right, and throwing a jab.


    His chest had caved in, and the rest of him had sprayed out of his back like she had squeezed a can of red spray paint, dousing a few other mercs and the gravel underneath their feet.


    I¡¯d been shocked enough to stay silent, sticking to the darkness of the grimy wall with my flight. I was in full Olympia gear, my hair tied back except for two parts hanging in front of my face. I wanted to blend in, to just watch as Knuckles kicked the feet out from underneath one man and smashed a hole through his ribcage with her heel. She was scarily efficient. Frighteningly. She swept up an assault rifle and shot at their feet, cutting them down to their knees, then she picked the ones that ran off one by one, hunting them through the industrial yard like rats running from poison. I followed her little warpath, watched and listened as she gutted a man with a stray piece of rebar and part of a chain link fence she used to make wet ribbons out of some woman¡¯s burly torso.


    Not once did she stop to talk. Not once did she break her pace. She only stopped to crouch, pull out one magazine and slip in another, cock the rifle and get back up again, shooting, cutting, punching and quite frankly slaughtering. She left their bodies behind her, a trail of them that made the gravel shine red. It painted the factory¡¯s exterior walls and the outdoor machinery. Piles of steel shone crimson under flickering security lights. I held my breath as the stench began ramping up. It had been a while since the smell of death had been in my lungs, and it was starting to get sickly.


    It must have taken her about twenty minutes to wipe them out. The final mercenary was some skinhead with a snake tattoo curling around his throat and across the back of his head. He had been dragging himself across the yard, trying to get to the trucks, maybe to call for help, maybe to try to escape, but it didn¡¯t really matter. I watched Knuckles, still wearing my black face mask, still with those placid blue eyes and that nearly ghostly white face, pull a pistol from the holster on her thigh and shoot him three times¡ªone bullet in his hand, blowing apart the fingers reaching for the truck¡¯s door, and the next to the base of his spine, making him go limp. The last went right through his skull, killing him instantly. Then there was silence, a very, very loud silence.


    A lot of the factories around here still chugged along through the night, billowing black smoke into the sky. The quiet came from the suddenness of what she had done. Knuckles was a soldier, the kind that would throw themselves onto a grade if their commanding officer told her to. Pulling a gun out on people she must have known and cutting them down wasn¡¯t like her. Then again, villains didn¡¯t really need a reason to do anything, just poor logic, and I knew that as much as anybody. Their reasoning was bullshit, skewered by more than what they said. But Knuckles rarely ever talked. She rarely gave out answers. She followed orders because that¡¯s just what she did, so I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if this was another order given to her by Ava or O¡¯Reiley.


    Was this Ava¡¯s doing, too? Were these mercs Triumvirate spies she wanted dealt with?


    Or, and I hoped, had she figured that working for that a-hole wasn¡¯t worth it anymore.


    Gods, right back into this stuff, I thought. So much for a warm welcome back.


    I stood, now parallel to the ground beneath me. I wasn¡¯t angry as much as I was interested in what Knuckles was going to do next. If Ava was behind this, she would be calling her soon.


    Instead, Knuckles waited, and waited, standing beside the trucks, arms folded against her chest, until a group of men in filthy overalls hopped out of a beaten up work truck. What¡¯s going on? Knuckles didn¡¯t say anything to any of them as she got into the leading armored truck, though one of them slipped her a piece of paper she only glanced at, nodded her thanks, then she shut the truck¡¯s door (but not before she shoved the dead body out of the driver¡¯s seat), and drove off into the night. I glanced back down at the guys in the overalls, listened to them joke about the killing they were going to make with these trucks. They stepped over the bodies as if they just didn¡¯t exist.


    I set off silently through the air, following Knuckles. She cut back through Gallows, then went down a side street that led directly to an apartment complex I was familiar with. I kept one of my backpacks duct taped to the inside of an air vent around here. These apartments weren¡¯t empty, I knew people squatted in them, but your guess to how many was as good as mine. The truck briefly stopped at the gate in front of the walled-off complex, but they quickly swung open seconds later. I continued tracking her as she parked in front of a water fountain, busted, of course, and just as dry as the concrete underneath the truck. She switched it off and opened the door, then waited.


    I was high enough in the sky to be touched by a cold breeze, a gust that swept the hair out from in front of her face. Oil lanterns shone in apartment windows, blossoming before curtains were quickly pulled shut again. I heard the patter of feet on concrete, then silence, as if children were running around in those dark hallways, invisible to me. It didn¡¯t take long, though, for a shadow stalking around the rooftops, a blur of movement hard to follow through the night, to leap down from above and onto a fire escape, bound off the side of a building and finally landing on top of an old lamp post to get my attention. It was a cat, a black, well-groomed cat that I swore I must have seen before. Its eyes were a luminous yellow, and the rest of its coat bled darkness.


    When it jumped to the ground and into a puddle of black, I lost sight of it.


    Then just as quickly, a figure appeared in front of the truck, standing away from its high beams. She was tall, lean, and wore a suit of white and black that hugged her body. Sections of armor plating on her arms and thighs and torso bulked her up, and the daggers in her belt glinted in the soft light. Great, I thought. Someone new. I didn¡¯t have a good experience with meeting new people recently, and this woman with black hair, wearing a white mask with what I could assume were red whiskers carved onto it, was just another to add to the list. It was the sharpened silver claws in her hands, or maybe they were coming out of her gloves? I couldn¡¯t really tell from here.


    Or maybe it was the fact that she reeked of blood, just like Knuckles and I (to a lesser extent) also did. The sword on her back didn¡¯t look like it was part of her gear¡ªit wasn¡¯t hers.


    And neither was the glimmering silver necklace strung around her throat like a noose.


    ¡°You¡¯re smarter than Ava gives you credit for,¡± the woman said. Nothing distinct about her voice. Nothing to mark her out as unusual. She was used to hiding in plain sight of everyone. The full face mask made it hard to see who she was. Old school, then. She wasn¡¯t taking any chances.


    Was she Ava¡¯s shadow? I didn¡¯t want to believe it. A freaking cat person had figured out everything about my life? My better judgment told me to stay put and not act out. Not yet, at least.


    Plus it felt a little too¡­ convenient. Easy. I was used to struggling for everything I learned about, usually by getting punched in the face during that process. Maybe I caught a break for once.


    Or maybe this was something else entirely. A freaking new problem to deal with.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± Knuckles asked quietly. ¡°I¡¯m a dead woman walking now.¡±


    The woman spread her arms. ¡°Welcome to my life, I hope you enjoy your stay.¡±


    ¡°You joke like someone I knew,¡± she muttered, flat. ¡°You¡¯re just not as charming.¡±


    The woman wearing black and silver walked toward her, and she didn¡¯t make a single noise, as if she was some shadowy apparition. ¡°You made the right decision. What you¡¯re doing tonight is going to do more to weaken the Triumvirate than anything Ava has done in months.¡±


    ¡°Was it worth killing so many people?¡±


    ¡°I never took you for the sentimental type.¡±


    ¡°The effort was taxing, I mean.¡±


    The woman laughed a little as she leaned against the truck. ¡°More than worth it. If it doesn¡¯t work out, then there¡¯s always going to be someone wanting to hire a bit of good muscle.¡±


    Knuckles remained silent as she flexed her hands. Her fingerless gloves were still wet.


    She handed Knuckles an envelope she pulled from a pocket on her belt. I was too far away to see what it said as Knuckles read through it. Stoic as ever, all she did was nod, hand it back, and push a hand through her silver hair. For once I wished she would just show a little bit of emotion.


    ¡°Should be easy for you,¡± the woman said. ¡°But this job wasn¡¯t meant for you, anyway.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m the one who came, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    The woman shrugged. I got closer, seeing that the jade pendant was in the shape of a cat¡¯s head. ¡°You were the most convenient option. I have things on my plate that can¡¯t wait, but the fact that you¡¯re here means that you¡¯ll do just as fine as my primary option. Although, if you do come in contact with her, then I hope it makes up for Christmas. I¡¯ll see if she wants to join our party, because it¡¯s either going to be very quiet, or very loud, but very lonely. You better start going, Ru.¡±


    The silence that followed was laced with venom, as if Knuckles¡ªstaring at her from the corner of her eyes, stiff, unmoving¡ªwanted to see just how easily that sword could kill a person.


    The woman remained unfazed, though, and kept up the silence. I had to admit that I would have said something by now, but neither wanted to budge. She hates the sound of her own name.


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Any word yet?¡± Knuckles asked, finally breaking the tension. ¡°No key information?¡±


    ¡°Gone. Vanished into thin air,¡± Sword Cat said. ¡°No trace of your little friend whatsoever.¡±


    ¡°I only agreed to this if you hold up your end of the deal. I drew my line in the sand tonight and Ava isn¡¯t going to want to listen to what I have to say. Find her, and I¡¯ll do what you want.¡±


    Sword Cat stepped backward, slipping into the dark. ¡°Aren¡¯t we all looking for someone, Ru?¡± she asked, but it might as well have been the shadows whispering the words into the night.


    Who was Knuckles looking for? It was someone important enough to get her to go against Ava¡¯s orders. My guess was that it wouldn¡¯t be long before Ava sent someone after her. I knew her, knew that she wouldn¡¯t like it one bit that someone in her ranks¡ªsomeone she thought she could control¡ªhad gone and killed dozens of her men in a single half-hour. In some way, it made me root for Knuckles even more as she turned the truck around to leave the complex. I could go and talk to Ava now, leaving her to deal with whatever it was she was planning on doing. And yes, it still pissed me off on some level that Knuckles had watched O¡¯Reiley and Jane murder all those kids. But I couldn¡¯t fault her, not after I had damn near done the same thing years and years ago.


    Fear could make a person feel a lot of things, especially powerlessness, and maybe this was just the way that Knuckles was trying to make things right by making amends for what happened.


    So I was a little confused when I followed her to a morgue at the edge of the city.


    Tonight wasn¡¯t any different than a typical New Olympus summer. It was humid, the kind that stuck to your skin like wet glue, meaning the sky was clear and the breeze was warm. A perfectly normal night, but a night that now stunk of dead bodies. The morgue wasn¡¯t atop some hill, or buried in a forest of abandoned buildings. The streets were silent, sure, and cartoonish graffiti coated the sidewalk and the lamp posts. The light above the door hummed, blinking on and off, attracting moths that beat against the glass. I hated morgues on a personal level, not because I had some deep rooted trauma, but because, despite the bodies being frozen, they still reeked.


    It was the same in high school when we spent biology classes cutting up rats and toads. Everyone else would be squeamish about seeing their tiny guts and stringy muscles come so easily off bones. I was used to seeing all that by then. It was the smell that got to me. It builds up, you know, and sits in your lungs and clings to your hair. Normal people didn¡¯t notice it, but it would keep me going to the bathroom every other period to dry heave into the toilets. Morgues and graveyards were a big-no-no for me, but Knuckles didn¡¯t seem to care as she parked her truck on the curb, pushing open the door and jumping out. Her boots smacked concrete, cutting the silence.


    The pale neon lights coming off the surrounding buildings made her pistol glint as she pulled it out of its holster. The building was squat, one-story, and looked like an old laundromat.


    Fitting, I guessed, for the problems it had made disappear for countless supervillains.


    Welcome to Old York, the borough where even the girl scouts around here laced their cookies to keep their customers ecstatic (or comatose, desperate, needy or dead). I was just guessing what the morgue was for, but this part of the city was like a zit too painful to pop. It wasn¡¯t exactly in Lower Olympus, and would probably be on the Greater Olympus boroughs map if anyone actually cared to think of it as anything more than a cesspit. Places like this fed off more than what I could handle, and were sustained by so many pulsating hearts it was like a hydra that reeked of blood and money. The villains here were too big for me to fight, too much, admittedly, for me to face off against. Not because I was weak, genius, but because the supervillains around here worked in high-rise offices, wore suits and ties, and played golf with their families on weekends. They were the one kind of supervillain I hated most¡ªthe CEOs and the politicians.


    Why? Well, because the humans only liked killing powerful people if it benefited them.


    And if I killed one, then suddenly I would be the bad guy. I knew my limits, all right.


    Plus, quite frankly, I didn¡¯t much understand how their politics worked. I kept it simple, and maybe I¡¯d figure it out one day, maybe put them down, too, but that would have to wait.


    Knuckles had finished surveying the area, searching through alleys and flashing lights at dark windows, trying to catch reflections. Nothing, she was alone. Satisfied, she walked toward the morgue, toward the dark, grimy little building sitting on its haunches, and reached for the door.


    She swore and yanked her hand away. My brows furrowed as I neared. Her fingertips were bright red, as if they¡¯d been burnt. I looked back at the door in front of her, catching a glimpse of¡­


    Wait a minute, I thought. There had been a symbol on the door, now fading, vanishing.


    What the hell kind of superpower could do that?


    And¡­ haven''t I seen that symbol before? That upside down pentagram?


    Knuckles stepped back, leveled her gun at the bronze lock, and fired. I couldn¡¯t fault her for trying that¡ªI would have tried putting my fist through it harder. But the bullet just disappeared. The gun¡¯s muzzle flash briefly shattered the night, but the sound was dampened, as if suffocated by a pillow. I worked my ear, wondering if I was the problem, but even as Knuckles stepped back, her boots sounded soft against the concrete. A chill went down my spine, not because I felt someone watching us, but because I felt weird, odd, blind in some way. Vulnerable. My hearing was what kept me stable on damn nearly everything I stood on or hung from. Hell, I wasn¡¯t even allowed to do gymnastics in school because of the advantage I had, so it being taken away left me feeling¡ª


    ¡ªbarriers like this aren¡¯t erected to keep people out. Less force will do. Much less.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± I spun around in the air, but, of course, there wasn¡¯t anybody up here with me, but neither was there anyone down there apart from Knuckles. It wasn¡¯t a good time for the concussions to start weighing in on the matter. But I knew that voice, and had heard it before, too.


    I hovered a little closer, simply out of curiosity and the need to figure out why I was hearing a voice in my head talking to Knuckles, or was it talking to me? I couldn¡¯t tell right now.


    ¡ªthe chances of being caught are high, so I suggest that¡ª


    It halted again, as if there was some kind of bad signal, like the thing between my ears was stopping the words from flowing correctly. I was dozens of feet above Knuckles now, making sure to keep my shadow far from her eyesight. She would spot me in a heartbeat, try and take me on even faster, but I wasn¡¯t here to fight tonight. Not her, at least. I was here to figure out why she had killed Ava¡¯s men so easily and taken orders from someone I¡¯d never seen before. And again, she tried the door handle, and once more, that dark red-and-black upside down pentagram surged into view before vanishing. With it came a smell of rot, of burning rot, then all too quickly it was gone.


    ¡ªthe key to opening a hex like this is to relinquish¡ª Completing that will¡ª You cannot¡ª


    I dared to get that little bit closer, so close I could count the hairs on her head. That voice was still lingering in my mind, coming in and out of focus, a voice I knew, had known, because¡ª


    A force yanked me out of the sky and onto the tarmac, making me bite the pavement. I got up on all fours, groaning, shaking loose rubble out of my hair and spitting grit out of my mouth, and then I felt a presence appear above me. It wasn¡¯t Knuckles, I was sure of that. The unrelenting force that shoved my face back into the pavement so hard that I left a Rylee-shaped dent in it made me certain that it wasn¡¯t her. I strained to lift my neck up, my recent surge of power helping, but not by much, not enough to not make the muscles in my neck and shoulders not hurt as I looked up. My teeth were clenched. My fingers dug into the concrete and my palms dug shallow craters.


    And I looked right into Witchling¡¯s inky black eyes, staring down at me like some bug.


    Olympia, I heard. Her almost otherworldly beautiful features were stunning in the pale light, making it feel as if I wasn¡¯t even looking up at a human at all. My, I haven¡¯t seen you around.


    ¡°Can¡¯t say I¡¯ve missed you all that much either,¡± I grunted. Golden light flickered around my fingers, spitting and sparking, but nothing solid. It wasn¡¯t the time for my powers to act up.


    But the rest of my body hadn¡¯t gotten the freaking memo yet.


    Knuckles appeared by her side. ¡°Your assumption was correct.¡±


    Like a moth to a flame, she followed us from the Guild to Gallows to hell.


    ¡°A bit melodramatic, don¡¯t you think?¡± I asked her, as air was forced out of my lungs. I didn¡¯t want to think that this had also been some game that Ava had planned out, because for the love of God I was getting freaking exhausted playing these fucking mind games every other gods damned day. Why couldn¡¯t I just follow a normal lead for once without being a dozen steps behind everyone else? Gods, I could just about hear Lucas huffing on his cigarettes, nodding to himself right about now. How much of this was fake was beyond me. I was irritated on multiple fronts right about now and wanted to hit Witchling where it hurt, partly ¡®cause, well, mom just knitted my suit back together and spent time cleaning it and the bitch was rubbing my face into the asphalt.


    Witchling smiled, making my body crawl. Melodrama is what would make this night bearable. Where we¡¯re going tonight is somewhere very unpleasant. Are you prepared, superhero?


    She dropped her hand, and the skyscraper-sized pressure on my back vanished. I was a bullet, on my haunches, up in the air, and into her the first chance I got. We slammed into the armored truck, but before I even got there, she was smoke in my fingers, dissipating into the air and reforming just behind me. She was wearing all black tonight, from her black heels to her black trousers to the figure-hugging black turtleneck, meaning her smile was even more glaring today.


    What is it with you children and being so eager? she asked. Be patient and use your words.


    ¡°Yeah, well, the last time I did that, I got into some pretty deep shit that I regretted.¡±


    ¡°If it makes this situation easier,¡± Knuckles said, ¡°just know that this is our doing alone.¡±


    With help, of course, from the woman you must have seen us interact with minutes ago. She sends her regards, but I doubt you¡¯ll ever get the chance to meet her face to face any time soon.


    I pinched my eyes, then wiped down my face. ¡°I¡¯m really starting to hate this hero gig.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t all a ruse,¡± Knuckles said flatly, as if explaining away her series of murders and some elaborate plan to get me to follow them here was just as exciting as describing how amazing my alter ego¡¯s life had been going lately (spoiler: it hadn¡¯t, not one bit of it had, in fact). ¡°We, the Triad, are done with Ava, who I¡¯m sure you must have heard of by now. We aren¡¯t here to fight tonight, and for that, I also apologize for punching you in the mouth on the beach. It was unkind.¡±


    Well, I also slammed you into the beach head-first, so I guess we¡¯re kinda even, I thought.


    ¡°So what exactly are you guys doing out here tonight?¡± I said, folding my arms, leaning against the truck. The New OlympiaTM was the listening kind of girl, the kind that understood what she was going to put her fist through first. Besides, if what Knuckles was saying was true, then this could change everything¡­ Or it could just be a script Ava told her to read to me so I could join them on some wild goose chase that would probably lead me right back into the palm of her hand. You couldn¡¯t blame me for being wary, okay? ¡°Stealing bodies wasn¡¯t on my bingo card, Witchy.¡±


    If stealing corpses was so illegal, then I would not be here to speak with you so openly, she said, leaving me with more questions. No, we are here because we all share a common goal.


    ¡°Yeah, and what¡¯s that?¡±


    To part ways with our current situations, of course, she replied, pulling a cigarette from thin air¡ªnot the kind that Lucas smoked, but the long thin ones attached to a slender white pipe. The kind that rich women not in my tax bracket indulge in. Nobody likes working in the dark, child.


    ¡°I love your creepy little one liners,¡± I said, ¡°but how much of this is also preplanned?¡±


    Witchling breathed out a slew of smoke, then walked toward me, getting so close that the smell of her perfume became choking, almost masking the bodies. You don¡¯t trust the words that come from a supervillain¡¯s mouth, and I cannot fault you. Many a lie has been spun by our kind, and those same words have killed countless men and women attempting to decipher them. But the look in your eyes¡­ She breathes in more sour smoke, exhales. Your trust has been ripped away from you and shredded by careless hands. Regardless, I doubt you would have trusted me to begin with, even if you still had your trust in place. You have been hurt, hurt deeply by many people.


    ¡°What are you, a fucking shrink?¡± I asked, hovering to meet her eyes. ¡°Spit it out, Witch.¡±


    You want justice, we want peace and closure, much the same thing. It can only be gotten through one way, and that way can only include myself, our friend, and that building behind you.


    ¡°So why exactly did you let me follow you all this way?¡± I said, eyes narrowing, voice lowering. Something didn¡¯t quite make sense here. ¡°A little bit too chancy with that, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    This plan would have gone on with or without you, but I had a good hunch. The smile on her face, though, told me that she had more than just a hunch that tonight would work out this way.


    Lucas said that times had changed, and yeah, I doubted he had to play these kinds of games with people so powerfully confusing that bothering to understand the limit of their abilities was pointless. I spared a glance over my shoulder at the morgue¡¯s doors, at the closed sign hanging from its handles. It seemed so painfully ordinary that I couldn¡¯t even see how it would be useful.


    And I also wasn¡¯t in the same lane as a supervillain, let alone her train of thought. Too many words, too many hands shaken, and it might take me a while, but I¡¯d kill Witchling tonight.


    Then Ava would be next. Trust me on that.


    As for Knuckles¡­ I didn¡¯t know yet.


    Witchling must have sensed a change in my posture, in how tightly my fists were curled against my chest. She let go of the cigarette, making it vanish, then she leaned in close, so close that the coldness of her breath swept against my neck as she whispered, ¡°I have your answers.¡±


    Her voice was¡­ wrong. Not hers. Strained and rough, scraping out of her throat, tumbling out of her mouth like vomit, escaping from her chest and being swallowed the second they did. I rolled my shoulder, felt my neck, hating the glimmer in her eyes as I shook off my flaring nerves.


    I glanced at her, into her eyes, scanning her face. ¡°What answers?¡±


    The ones from the night in the sewer. The markings on the dead man.


    I stilled. What? ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Witchling smiled and placed her hand on my shoulder. A touch so gentle it barely registered against my skin, let alone my gear. If so, then tonight will be just so fun for you.


    Pressure on my shoulder, a beat of silence, then I was flung right toward the morgue.


    And I slipped right through the doors and into a burning abyss before I could even blink.

 Issue #27: The Time I Got Transported To Hell! Part Two

    If reading comic books had taught me one thing, it was that supervillains were not to be trusted¡ªthey sucked, and my gods, it was a miracle the world was still standing. I know you probably rolled your eyes at that, because duh, everyone knows not to trust them, but sometimes it¡¯s easier to just find yourself in these fun little situations that make you want to believe that they¡¯re telling the truth or ocne. A lot of superheroes have this thing about honor, glory, trust, and so on and so forth and whatever. Villains, some of them, at least, didn¡¯t give a damn what they did. They almost treaded the thin line of being heroes with no rules, anti-heroes, if you will, but did shit that made it very clear that they weren¡¯t doing things for any kind of morally justified reason at all.


    And sending a superhero straight to hell was right up there on the list of those bad things. I¡¯ll admit, this was a first for me, jerking awake on a cold, grimy floor, breathing in noxious fumes that made me throw up just inches away from my face. The world was a deep, dark crimson color. Not blood, no, but diluted rose petals, as if wherever this place was, was mocking me for thinking it would smell like anything else except burning flesh and singed hair and old decaying corpses.


    I describe it like that, but in reality, the smells were clashing, fighting it out to see which would dominate the smoky air, but none were winning. All it did was create a stench. The stench.


    I gagged getting up off the floor, my hair loosely hanging around my face. I shook my head and held my temples as I got onto one knee and looked around myself. Feeling like a truck had smashed into my skull made it painfully hard to concentrate on the world surrounding me. I made out a dingy hallway behind me that seemingly just spiraled on and on into the dark, a tunnel, more like, with no end in sight that bellowed this baritone so low and silent it shook the floor. I squinted, trying to see if there was a door buried somewhere in those shadows, but it was dark, too dark even for my eyes. I turned, but the hallway in front of me was the same, only illuminated by that hellish red that hung in the air like smoke. I was alone in this hallway, kneeling on broken bits of ceramic tiles, underneath a ceiling covered in flourishing black moss and light fixtures hanging awkwardly from exposed wires. I felt watched getting onto my feet, as if I wasn¡¯t supposed to.


    Witchling and Knuckles weren¡¯t anywhere to be seen, which was nice of them.


    But what did I expect after the month I¡¯d had?


    Where the hell am I? I walked two steps forward, and the echo of my boots against the floor almost felt insulting, like I was shouting to the darkness, I¡¯m here, look at me! I paused to listen, to feel the air and the wetness of sweat on my brow. I dragged my arm across my face, the heat in these hallways becoming ridiculous. I decided to hover my way down the corridor, or I would have if I had lifted off the ground instead of stumbling back onto it seconds later. Not by my doing. It felt like someone had made me do it. Flying was second nature, like breaking into a sprint or breathing: you just did it. But now I had to will myself off the ground, trying to picture myself inches off the tiles, but I couldn¡¯t even do that. My feet remained planted to the floor, right here.


    I almost checked underneath my boots to see if there was something keeping me stuck in place. The air was a lot heavier here, but I¡¯d flown in denser, pushed against forces several times stronger than gravity, but I was still stuck to the floor, to the tiles that crunched underneath my feet.


    I swallowed the lump of panic building in my throat, feeling it get lodged in my chest as I tried again and again, jumping, even, just to get my powers to work. Nothing. Nothing. I couldn¡¯t even fly! And all too quickly, my surroundings, the smoke in the air, the wetness in the air, that lingering sense that something was watching from the darkness hanging in the air felt so much more real. Closer. Prepared to pick me apart. I pressed my fingers against my forearm, pinched it, and the pain wasn¡¯t as dulled as it usually was, either. Fuck. Fuck! My heartbeat ticked over rapidly in my chest, thumping against my ribs as my head swiveled down each side of the hallway. If this was some nightmare I¡¯d slipped into, I needed to wake up. Had to. My freaking powers were gone and all I could do was stand there, breathing hard, sweating under my gear, wondering what I was supposed to do in a place like this with nothing to defend myself from gods knew what.


    The ground shuddered underneath me. I stumbled a step forward, looked around. The walls were shifting, moving, not forward or backward, but bulging underneath the thin flowery wallpaper peeling off of it. Something was moving between the walls, just past them. I took a few steps, then a few steps more to put distance between me and the squirming lumps just about as big as my arm burrowing around the wood and cement. It grimly reminded me of the shopping center on 12th Avenue, but those had been maggots festering inside of humans, not inside of a morgue. Then again, worms and maggots did always find their way into dead human bodies all the time, so what was any different about an entire building filled with corpses? Fantastic, I know. Just great.


    As I hurried down the corridor, now at a jog, I figured it made at least a bit of sense. The smells were only getting worse, but also more familiar. Smells I had sworn that I would never ever want to inhale again after the city-wide Kaiju attack. Before I knew it, though, my nose was in the crook of my elbow and my eyes were blurred with tears. Gods, it reeks here. Wherever here was. It almost made me miss how the normal morgue had smelt as I plunged deeper down the corridor, glancing over my shoulder, still wary of the walls and the shadows leaping after me as I ran.


    I continued jogging, continued hoping that I would find some kind of exit, or a turn, but the corridor simply went on and on and didn¡¯t stop, the darkness behind me still licking at my heels. I used a piece of broken tile I leaned against the wall as a marker to make sure I wasn¡¯t getting into my own head, but I¡¯d just passed it for the fourth time in a dozen minutes. I was going in circles without making a single turn. Running faster, faster, faster wasn¡¯t doing anything except tiring me out. I was still in the same spot, lost. Without my powers. Witchling put me here with a pat on the shoulder without a single explanation. The only words that had come from her mouth were a warning. She had answers for what Cadaver was, for what the symbols on his body had meant.


    The only way she knew I had those questions was if she also knew about Tempest.


    And the thought of Witchling knowing about Rylee put a ball of ice firmly in my gut as I knelt to catch my breath. I pushed my hair back, tensing my jaw as I thought and tried not to inhale too much foul-smelling air. Panic was nibbling at my ears. Thoughts and voices telling me that she was going after mom and Bianca and Em, Dennie and Grant and Michael because that was what Ava probably wanted, wasn¡¯t it? Yeah, that was right. I¡¯d fucked off without her permission, and she was making it very clear who was in charge. My gut felt heavier. My heart beat faster, almost painfully against my chest. I had to get out of this place somehow, but Witchling¡¯s powers didn¡¯t even make sense to the people who cataloged them, let alone to me. Was this place even real?


    Thinking it was real only made it worse to stomach my racing thoughts. If it was some kind of illusion, then I could get out of this, there had to be a way out of this. If it wasn¡¯t, though¡­


    Then I didn¡¯t know how long I would be stuck here for until I got out.


    How much time did I have until Witchling found everyone? She was smart, powerful, deadly, so about three, maybe four hours. It would be my friends first, then Bianca, then Ava would dangle mom out in front of me, a carrot on a stick, taunting me, telling me, no, showing me what happens when I bite the hand that had a grip on my leash. Like some errant dog that needed to be disciplined by their owner. Like an idiot who kept playing Ava¡¯s games and feeding the ego that told Ava she could keep demanding more of me. Fuck, Ry, what were you thinking? But I had done everything right. I wanted information. I was patient, willing to listen, something the old me from a few weeks ago would have scoffed at, but even now, that part of me was scoffing back.


    I had dropped my guard because I felt comfortable in the new powers I had. I had figured coming back would be at least a little bit easier physically, and yet here I was, sweating in the dark.


    Witchling had murdered in front of my eyes before without a blink of hesitation, what would stop her from doing the same to my friends, to my mom? As far as I was concerned, I was going to keep assuming that she knew Tempest and Olympia were the same girl living in Lower Olympus. I wasn¡¯t ruling anything out yet. Putting me here was to show me how easy, despite my powers, it was to lock me away. Picking off the people I cared about would be a statement. I don¡¯t care whose blood runs through your veins, you bleed just like the rest of us, was what it would say. It was what Ava would be saying without even uttering a single word of it. I was paranoid, all right? And could you really blame me after every single hoop she¡¯d made me jump through lately?


    If you¡¯re gonna panic, at least do something whilst you panic, I thought to myself, nodding, trying to loosen my jaw. I got up and decided to double back into the darkness that had seemingly been following me around, give it a shot to see if there were any other options for me in this godsforsaken place. Or¡­ Wait, if I hadn¡¯t really moved, then had the darkness just been sitting there behind me? Was I just running in the same spot this whole time? I pressed my fingers against my temples, trying to come up with some kind of logical reasoning, but this was always the weakest part of my game. I didn¡¯t know, just didn¡¯t know and couldn¡¯t figure it out even if I tried.


    I forced myself to breathe, in through the nose and out through the mouth. Slowly, steadily, my mind cleared up enough for me to get my head somewhat together. I bit my tongue hard enough to taste hot iron, swallowed it, grounded myself. All right, I could do this. I just had to figure out what exactly it is I had to do and how I would do it. My powers weren¡¯t willing to play ball right now. No electricity. No super strength, super speed, invulnerability and all the rest of it. I was human for now, just as soft and pudgy as I had been when I was a kid. I hated that thought so deeply that it made me itch, hated it a lot more than I ever expected. The costume didn¡¯t even fit right anymore. It was a little baggier around my waist, chest, arms and thighs. I grew a little when I used my powers, but not fitting in my gear meant that they were off, well and truly gone for now.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    I hoped and hoped dearly to the gods that it was just for now and not permanently.


    Because even for Ava that would be a step too far.


    Okay, I just had to use what I had, which was pretty much just myself, broken light fixtures shattered on the floor, and floor tiles scattered around in grimy bits and pieces. The dark was a no go now, because I wouldn¡¯t know where I would be going, and dying here wasn¡¯t happening. I could just keep running and running until the looping corridor finally gave way into something that wasn¡¯t foul, fuzzy black mold, wilting wallpaper, and a smell of bodily rot that was beginning to churn my gut. On the other hand, I could always force my way through the walls beside me.


    I had no other options, really, unless driving myself insane running down these corridors for who knew how long was an alternative. Maybe there was more behind the towering walls.


    Well, I knew there was more behind the walls because, standing right in front of them, something was still squirming around behind the wallpaper. It was this slew of meaty little fingers worming their way up and down, across and sideways. I raised my hand to the wall, placing my fingers on it first, then the rest of my palm. Gods, it felt gross having them press against my skin. They congealed around my fingers, circling them, pressing against them. I shifted my hand and so did they, following it across the wall. I pulled back, shaking my hand out to get the strange feeling off of me. The wall was soft, that much I knew. There was supposed to be concrete underneath it.


    All it felt like was an overstuffed¡ªalmost bloated¡ªslightly soggy and sagging mattress.


    I swallowed a little, stepping backward to watch whatever it was that was moving around behind the walls gather in spots and then dart to others. My handprint remained there, slightly dark, and even now as I clenched and unclenched my hand, my fingers were wet, slimy, sticky with something that squelched as I relaxed my fingers. I couldn¡¯t tell what color it was under the red haze. Too sticky to be blood. Too lightly colored to be anything else. Wasn¡¯t there anywhere else I could go down the hallways? Trying my luck with the dark was starting to become tantalizing. Put that down to the smell of bodies coming from the wall, or the stickiness of my hand. Rot was in the air and the heat mingling with it was making it worse, almost sickeningly unbearable to deal with.


    The Daughter of Zeus, however, wasn¡¯t a coward, powers or not. If there wasn¡¯t at least a way through or a way into somewhere else through the wall, then so be it¡ªI¡¯d go into the dark.


    Until then, though, I crouched and picked up a shard of tile.


    I weighed it in my hand, feeling the edges bite into my palm as I gripped onto it. I held it out in front of me, pressed the tip against the wallpaper until it broke through. Liquid trickled down the wall and dripped onto my boots, black, watery, reeking of blood. I pushed the shard in further, making the wallpaper give way like skin. The stench coming from the gash I tore open poured out, suffocating me, flooding the hallway. I gagged and stepped backward, then forced the shard even deeper. Seconds later, they came out¡ªthose thin, meaty little worms burrowing and squirming and oozing out like a lumpy black liquid. They splattered onto the floor, giving me a better look at them. They kind of looked like fat little maggots with gnawing mouths filled with tiny razor teeth.


    I stared at them for a silent beat, my hand still clutching onto the tile. Then I backed up, sick, a little scared, watching as they began chewing at my rubber soles. They were pouring out of the wall now, faster, like I¡¯d twisted the faucet open. I swallowed my tongue, ripping my eyes off the floor and looking into the gash sliced across the wall. Squinting, daring to get closer, crushing the maggots but at the same time being light on my toes, avoiding their teeth, I stared into the hole, trying to figure out what exactly it was that I was freaking looking at. It looked wet, stringy, like¡­


    Like¡­


    I prodded the meaty surface with the tile, pressing against a bulge in the wall. Dozens of lumps in front of me, each of them like puffy, fat pink zits about the side of my fist. No, hundreds.


    Nothing happened. I could have stopped. Dropped the shard and left the lumps alone.


    But a part of me wanted to find out what was behind them. There was no point in being a superhero if you never learnt anything because you were frightened by everything in front of you.


    It was easy to say that when my mouth was bone dry, and the only thing stopping my hand from shaking was the fact that the shard was already getting deeper and deeper into the large lump.


    Then the floor shuddered. The wet wall contracted, shook, paused for several seconds, several very long seconds, before the lumps hissed and burst open with a soft, hissing squelch as the meat¡ªit was all I could really describe the wall as¡ªcovering each lump suddenly ripped apart.


    Then they blinked at me¡ªblinked at me¡ªand stared at me with singular bloodshot eyes.


    Still, perfectly still. The tile slipped out of my hands as I stepped back. The angry red veins spiraling from their irises pulsed. They followed me as I backed away, then more bulged, right through the wallpaper, opening up, one after the other, rapid, back-to-back as the thin layer of muscle covering them tore open and spat blood onto the floor as they all blinked and stared directly at me. Some of the maggots crawling around burrowed into the eyes, chewing through the visceral white goo. I swallowed bitter bile, tried not to puke, but the walls were shuddering now, both of them, behind and in front of me. The low, arduous sound echoing down the hallway only got louder and louder, so deep that I felt it in my core. It sounded like screaming, like hundreds of mouths had suddenly just opened and were harmonizing in a pained baritone that shook my core.


    Those mouths appeared just beneath the wall of pulsating red eyes. Just like the bloodshot orbs, the wallpaper tore away like brittle flesh, and the wet muscle underneath it like damp paper, revealing rows upon rows of open jowls so filled with teeth they could hardly freaking close. Each of them was wide open, regurgitating waves of fat little black and gray maggots that vomited out of their deep black gullets. My stomach turned, trying to leap into my throat. I continued backing away, continued down the hall, but the mouths continued opening up along the wall, every one of them groaning louder and louder the further away I got until it became a terrible shrieking mess.


    The sound hurt. Felt like blazing white hot pokers were burrowing into my ears. I planted my hands onto either side of my head, gritted my teeth, and ran down the corridor, trying to put a bit of distance between myself and the mouths. But the corridor wouldn¡¯t let up. The further I ran, the harder I ran, the more mouths tore through the yellowish wallpaper. The eyes followed me, watched me, as if there were dozens of humans trapped in that godsforsaken meaty molasses, impaled by those same toothy mouths that snapped and bellowed and shrieked down the hall.


    The hollering was only getting louder, more painful. My skin crawled. My brain ached between my ears. Fuck, for once I was happy my powers were acting up. With them I would have been crippled, splayed out on the floor, left to deal with the maggots and what they might do to my skin, to my entire body. But the sound was aggravating them, too. Making them thrash around in the hollow eye sockets they devoured and in the mouths they spilled out of. Then, a searing pain caught my breath. I stumbled, slapped my calf on reflex. A maggot had chewed its way right through my gear. Panic spiked through me, hot and cold, I didn¡¯t know, as I stumbled more, swore, grabbed its stub little body and yanked it off my skin. It came away with bits of my skin in its maw, being grounded up by teeth that didn¡¯t stop moving until I crushed it between my two hands.


    But the smell of my blood must have got their attention. The tiniest trickle down my leg, soaking into my costume. The first droplet landed on one chewing at my thick soles, getting its attention, and like a hive, they turned, stopped fighting in eye sockets and mouths and wriggling around on the floor, searching for food, for meat, and turned their attention to me. The nose grew louder. The fear in my chest grew brighter, hotter. I swatted them off my legs, my thighs, but they were quick, ruthless, biting and nibbling and picking at my skin like barbed needles. Shit, shit! Get off of me, get off, get off, get off! All I could do was run. Run and swipe my hands around me.


    All too suddenly, a turn in the corridor appeared through the crimson haze.


    I took it, barely registering it.


    The quietness was sudden, like running into a wall. The mouths stopped shrieking. I couldn¡¯t see any eyes down this part of the hallway. No different from the one behind me, but I couldn¡¯t focus on that, not as I plucked and pulled and yanked the tiny little things off my body. One was so deep into my calf that I was forced to dig my fingers into the hole it made to grab its tiny body and twist it out. I had to be on the floor for that, swearing and cursing, definitely not letting tears of pain sear my eyes. I threw the fucking thing¡ªthe last one on my body¡ªonto the floor, then slammed my knuckle against it, smashing it into gristly body parts and a splatter of blood. I ground my fist against the tiles, making sure the thing stopped moving no matter what.


    I didn¡¯t like the silence that followed. Didn¡¯t enjoy sitting on my ass, breathing hard through my mouth, trying not to pass out, knowing there were eyes and mouths and carnivorous little monsters hiding just behind the wallpaper. I hated this place. Hated thinking that the wall would have been a good idea. Thinking about it now, it was stupid, foolish, but also distant, as if I hadn¡¯t come up with the idea myself. Even now, a distant part of me wanted to take on the wall again, clear out the maggots and the mouths and stop them all from screaming so harshly. I felt that urge deep in my gut, and heard it whisper in my ears. I thumped my temple with my palm. No.


    Something was in my head, other than me, making me want to do something stupid.


    The urge, though, and that silent, poisonous, lingering voice was distant, getting further away; getting less demanding.


    Less able to control me.


    And the scraping, bumping, thumping sound echoing through the scarlet mist in front of me was only getting closer. It had been far away at first, but it was here now closer, getting closer the longer I knelt on the floor. The sound appeared when my breathing had slowed and sweat had began stinging my eyes a moment ago, and now it sounded as if whatever it was would get here at any second. Just a minute of peace would be nice, you know. Already onto my feet, but not before I rested on one knee, tried to get back up, winced and collapsed hard back onto the floor. My calf was shot, spasming with pain every time I tried to stand, aching like hell. I bit down on my tongue, clenched my jaw as the sound of labored breathing, as the smell of sweaty skin and the putrid, almost offensive stench of something sickly sweet seeped through the air. Something was coming my way. Something very big. Something that had been attracted by the noise and the screaming, and maybe, just maybe, by the smell of blood no human on earth had that was seeping into my costume like sweat on a hot summer day.


    I remained on one knee, feeling the tiles shudder with each footstep. Don¡¯t have powers, so what¡¯re you gonna do now, Ry? Can¡¯t stand up, so what¡¯re you gonna do now, Ry? Can''t form a fist without your hands hurting, so what''re you gonna do now, Ry? ¡°Gods,¡± I said, trying to swallow the groan that sprung into my mouth when I stood, and forced myself to keep standing, to stay awake and not pass out. I wobbled, deciding to put weight on one leg. My head was woozy from exhaustion, from all that running, from pain emanating from the tiny cuts and shallows all over my body. A deep swallowing gash on my calf. Not a single inkling of golden electricity sparking in my hair. The thing from the haze getting closer, breathing harder, sweating more, smelling my blood and my sweat and the spit I launched from my mouth and the saliva I knuckled off the corner of my lips. I wasn¡¯t ready. Wasn¡¯t ready.


    But I had to be ready, had to at least not die right here in hell.


    I  wasn¡¯t ready, though, for Cherry to appear from the haze, towering over me.

 Issue #28: That Time I Got Transported To Hell! Part Three

    My previous transgressions against Cherry, I feel, should be ignored. I had acted in self-defense and wasn¡¯t actually going to cave his skull in with the heel of my boot. Gods, I¡¯m not some monster who went around killing things just because they look a little bit different to me. That night on the docks had been long, exhausting, and tempers had ramped up the longer it went on. A supervillain? No, Cherry was just a guy made from patches of different colored flesh, with more eyes than I remembered bulging from his sagging face, and a rib cage that was partially outside of his body¡ªdon¡¯t discriminate, kids, it¡¯s wrong. But¡­Cherry looked a lot larger than last time. Has he always been this big? Domineering, leering, with a mouth that, when it opened, hung loose, and was held together by tight strips of stringy muscle connecting his razor tooth filled jaws. I wanted to puke at the sight of him, at the smell that all those bits of skin oozed as he got closer to me.


    Larger arms. Larger fists. The muscles underneath his flesh bulged and pressed against their stitched seams, threatening to tear open. I could see the mess of his guts pressing against his torso, bulging against his skin, as if whoever had made him¡ªoh, right, I did know who made this thing¡ªhad just stuffed them all inside of him without a second thought. His breath reeked of¡­of something painfully sweet, something just like Wraith and those packets of golden-brown powder had on the night at the docks. Some of those Kaiju on 12th Avenue had smelt like Cherry, too.


    But being so close that I could smell him was as good of an idea as shooting myself.


    He remained standing in the haze, a shady, malformed figure breathing through a mouth that gurgled and coughed and grunted. He didn¡¯t make a move toward me, and I didn¡¯t either. I stayed where I was, weight on my good leg, my hands were up because of reflex, but I didn¡¯t really know what I was going to do with them if he came my way. He put me through a train and half of a shipping yard when I was limiting myself¡ªI¡¯d only beaten him because of my powers.


    And if tiny little carnivorous maggots could chew right through my skin, then Cherry would put his fist clean through my body just as easily as fingers going through a wet paper towel.


    ¡°Listen,¡± I said to him, my voice dampened by the haze, the walls, maybe both, but I couldn¡¯t tell. ¡°I know we got off on the wrong foot, but how¡¯s about I talk to your boss instead?¡±


    Cherry didn¡¯t move, and predictably said nothing. He stepped closer, making the tiles shudder underneath my one good foot. My heartbeat quickened slightly, and blood sang in my ears. I had two options, and I really didn¡¯t like either of them¡ªI could either run away and hope to the gods that he didn¡¯t follow me because I knew damn well he would very easily catch up to me.


    Or I could stand my ground and try and fight him, which would be bad for my health.


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    For the first time in years, something cold and heavy settled deep in my gut as I stared into those empty pits in his skull, breathed in his stenches, and watched as his large meaty fingers twitched. I might actually die this time. The words sprung into my mind so quickly, from so deep in my psyche that they momentarily knocked me off my unsteady balance. My veins were filled with ice, the kind that made you tense with frigid nerves. I had been reckless for so long, rolling with punches that would have killed any other superhuman on the planet. I had shrugged off point blank explosions. Shouldered the weight of a collapsing shopping center. Hell, I had moved so fast that everything around me had seemed like it had frozen in place for nearly a minute straight.


    I always figured that it would be¡­fuck, I don¡¯t know¡ªsomewhere meaningful.


    For something meaningful. Or, who knows, for someone, too.


    But I was just going to be another collection of bones like the ones scattered all over the floor. Indistinguishable from the rest. A few more dashed across the tiles, freaking forgotten.


    That didn¡¯t sit right with me, and usually, I would fly right in and hit him hard now.


    Instead, all I could do was watch as he stepped forward, muscles bunching, tensing¡ª


    ¡ªI was on the floor before I knew it, with pain so blazing, so consuming, burning so brightly, so furiously in my gut that I couldn¡¯t even hear myself cry out. I choked on my own scream of agony, choked on the limp piece of meat stuck in my throat. I had been in the air, then the floor, but I couldn¡¯t remember flying backward and smacking my skull against the tiles. I tried to stop my body from shuddering. Nothing. I lay flat on my gut, face pressed to the floor. My head whined. Blood raged in my ears. Warmth spread underneath me, smelling like iron, shining like blood, but¡­no, that wasn¡¯t my blood, was it? Where was it coming from? Get up. What hurt so much that I couldn¡¯t move? Get. Up. Gods, it hurt¡ªit hurt, it hurt, it hurt. I wanted to move, but all I could manage were weak, wet coughs that sent shards of pain lancing through my entire body.


    A shadow over me. Smells cascading over me. Cherry towered above my body. Move. He crouched, his knee close to my face. Rylee, dammit, get up. The world moved in frames, stopping, starting, his hand curling around my hair, yanking up my head. Pain tore down my spine. Eyes not opening long enough to look at him. Head not strong enough to stay upright. He pulled me off the floor by my hair, held me at arm¡¯s length. My body remained limp, useless, feeling like a dozen pounds of wet flour and cement. I tried to speak, to spit, but all that came out of my mouth was a slew of warm red dribble that bubbled through my lips and poured right down my chin and chest.


    Darkness ebbed at the corners of my vision. His face winked in and out of view. The last I saw before I gave in were the shadows behind him, how they quickly vanished behind Cherry.


    ¡°Not so tough now, are you?¡± a distant voice said. ¡°Put her in the cage with the rest of them.¡±

 Issue #29: That Time I Got Transported To Hell! Part Four

    In my eighteen years of life on this planet, I had kissed death and told her to call me back later twice. This time, though, was different, because it lasted longer, her lips were colder, and gods, letting go was always going to be the easiest thing to do right now. I felt like I was flying into nowhere, stuck at a speed slow enough to feel the warmth of the darkness around me, but fast enough to keep the coldness of it snapping at my heels. I felt a little¡­lazy, tired, kinda like I was finally being given the chance to knock one back, put my feet up, and relax for once in my life.


    There weren¡¯t any visions, no memories of younger me running around the house, trying to escape Veronica as she tried putting clothes on me. No daydreams of flying right alongside dad over New Olympus, slightly behind him, his cape snapping in the wind and the wrinkles of his smile peaking just over his shoulder as he turned to face me, to say something to me. None of that, that had all come the first two times. This time was just darkness, because hell, the highlight reel had been watched and watched again. I didn¡¯t need my mom to sit me down on the porch as the sun slowly sailed over the horizon to tell me that, Hey, kid, if you don¡¯t wake up soon, you¡¯ll miss your alarm. I knew all of it by now. Knew that if I wanted to wake up, all I had to do was keep going. Keep flying forward, trying to go fast enough for the coolness of it to not wash over me.


    It was scary, I had to admit, knowing what was chasing me, knowing it wouldn¡¯t stop.


    But you knew who I was and what I stood for. Giving up wasn¡¯t something I knew how to do, even if it did leave me an inch away from death more times than I would like. She must be tired of chasing me; give the girl a pay raise. So I continued flying, continued rocketing into black eternity¡ª-there was no light at the end, no hand reaching through the darkness grasping for me. I was alone here, as if I was in Dominion¡¯s¡­what had he called it? I couldn¡¯t remember. How had he even done that? Words, he had said some kind of incantation and poof, there I was facing down something so profoundly enormous I still had a problem trying to know how big it actually was.


    Strange. Strange powers all around. A very freaking strange spring break that had all started with an argument, a decision, slammed doors and hurled, heated words. I didn¡¯t graduate like I had wanted to, and didn¡¯t even really know if I made it onto the list with all my absences and missed pieces of homework and¡­and¡­I shook my head and sped up a little. Mom got me a cap and gown a few weeks beforehand, and that was just one of the arguments we¡¯d had. We were supposed to get it tailored just right for me, but something had scared me off the moment I saw the old man start trying to adjust it to fit me right. Standing there in front of that mirror, a cap on my head and blue robes pouring down my body¡­no, that wasn¡¯t me. It just didn¡¯t feel like me one bit.


    I felt like I would be giving up everything I was building for myself as a superhero.


    As my father¡¯s only daughter.


    But I can¡¯t help but wonder if things had turned out differently if I had just smiled and nodded, bought shoes with her later on, then on that fateful day I silenced my phone, ignored Lucas¡¯ call, got into the car with Ronnie, or hell, flew there and changed out of my costume behind the gym, got my certificate, and threw my cap so high that the boys in space would see it on their radars. I would still be at home right now, maybe wasting away my days drinking beers on the porch with Ronnie in the day, sneaking out to hang out with Bianca and Em at night, and trying to figure out what I was going to do in the fall. Get a job or go to Olympus U? Would I just rent a place close to campus, get a hostel, or just be flying back home every day? Then Ronnie would pinch my ear for saying it so loud, because the neighbors might have heard, but who cared?


    The sun would have been warm, the breeze would have been homely.


    And I wouldn¡¯t be telling death to take a number and wait in line like everything and everyone else that wanted to see me buried and gone. One moment. One phone call. One decision.


    I had slowed down long enough for the frigid air to climb my legs and reach my waist. I wasn¡¯t wearing my Olympia gear, but shorts and a white t-shirt, no sneakers on my feet and my hair in a mess. Rylee, that¡¯s who I was, because death didn¡¯t really give a shit who was wearing the costume and saving lives and, admittedly, not doing such a great job of being the hero that I knew I could be. Nope, not death, that old bitch. I am who I am, whatever the time of day, whatever the situation, because whoever stood in front of that mirror every morning was the same person that I would always be: my parent¡¯s daughter. Wait, no, that wasn¡¯t right. A hero. I was a superhero.


    Whatever, it didn¡¯t really matter. Dad kicked it, so mom would be the one who would probably kill me for kicking it before her. Idiot. She was gonna ground me until the next decade.


    At least I¡¯d stop stressing her out every night, I thought, slow, swimming in black molasses, feeling light, cold, doughy to the bone. Nope, can¡¯t do that if I never pop up on television again.


    Can¡¯t worry someone to bits if you¡¯re dead, you know, because being stuck in some wet grave in warbrook cemetery would stop me from trying to get myself killed every single night.


    The lackadaisical feeling only lasted for so long, though, because of a voice, a thought, an image that crossed my mind. It was a person that blossomed deep in my brain, a person I knew.


    I had expected to see Bianca smiling, to feel my heart wrench at never being able to explain myself to her, to tell her that I was sorry for being a shitty person to her, and being Olympia isn''t an excuse. Should never have been an excuse to me. I should have been there for prom, not as the superhero, but as the girl who walked home with her everyday, who would sometimes (it wasn¡¯t weird) hovered over the athletics field when she was doing training, watching as she ran and ran and laughed and won and glimpsed up at the clouds, but couldn¡¯t see a thing through her thick hair or the sweat in her eyes or the glaring sunlight I used to hide myself. I had my opinions about humans, but she was¡­strange, not much different from the rest, but she plucked at strings that¡­


    Fuck, hold on, I didn¡¯t have a crush on some girl who was probably too busy with her friends and maybe someone she had started seeing during my disappearances, all right? Gods, I wasn¡¯t some doughy little human teenager who got butterflies in her stomach thinking about another human. What do you take me for? I was a warrior, a hero, a girl whose blood had flowed through the same arteries that saved the world. Blood that was hallowed and revered beyond just earth, but by even more than that, got it? From where I¡¯m from, mating took place with whoever, because it didn¡¯t really matter who you liked. Love wasn¡¯t a concept we understood like humans so easily did. I hated it, hated that my gut did feel like a gnarly nest of butterflies right about now.


    But I also loved how it could so quickly curdle into hatred, especially because the person who came into my mind wasn¡¯t Bianca, but Ava and her fucking smile and those fucking glasses.


    Something about seeing her now, right bloody now, sparked a bonfire in my chest. Got my heart rate going that little bit faster. I shook my head, blinked away the crust that had settled into my eyes, and dragged myself forward, getting faster, ripping myself free from the oily black shadows that had begun crawling up my body. I didn¡¯t know where I was flying to, didn¡¯t even know what I was flying toward, but I kept going, hating the idea that her face would be the last thing I ever saw before I finally gave into the easy route. There was fire in my gut, burning just for her, warming my veins, making me feel a hate so deep I had no other option to just keep going.


    And all too quickly, I gasped awake, drinking in air, real air that flooded my lungs and made me choke. I coughed several times into my fist, then suppressed a silent scream as pain exploded in my gut. I clutched my side, reflexively curled into a ball around myself. I was on a thin mattress atop a bed barely strong enough to hold my weight, and the wave of nausea only subsided when I finished puking the little food I still had left in my stomach. A stomach, by the way, which felt like it had been torn apart and sewn back together with barbed wire. The hand pressed to my side felt wet, sticky. The room I was in was too dark to make out what it was, but I had an idea.


    Bandages were wrapped tightly around my midsection, stained and bloody. I knew Cherry had hit me hard, but I didn¡¯t know it had been hard enough to, what felt like, tear me in half. I shuffled onto my back, groaning as I did, feeling the bite of each stitch and each new possible tear I was creating for myself. Breathing wasn¡¯t a fun activity to do, with air feeling like it was being forcefully rammed down my throat and into my lungs and back out again. My head felt heavy, with a pounding headache not aiding my cause. I shut my eyes and tried to stop moving so much. With my arm over my forehead, I may as well have been a corpse. Or a bride on her deathbed. The sheets must have been white a few decades ago, and the mattress new about the same time as the dinosaurs were wiped out. But hey, at least it wasn¡¯t the floor underneath the bed, right?


    Or in some pit covered with dirt, rotting away and feeding the worms.


    Positives: I wasn¡¯t dead and filled with worms eating away at my insides.


    Negatives: I was wracked with pain so vicious that my bones felt like they would shatter if I moved, and there were sounds coming from the dark around me. Scuttling and slapping, skin against cold bare concrete. I opened one eye and glanced to my right, and caught a shadow slipping away into the blackness on the other side of the room. Giggling and shushing came with the tiny patter of feet on the floor, then hushed, quick murmuring. I shut my eye again, too exhausted to care, because if Frankie wanted me dead then she would have gotten her ugly little pet to turn my body into meaty paste already. But sure enough, I felt a presence beside the bed, and again felt tiny huffing breaths against my cheek. I waited, waited, then a finger pressed my cheek.


    ¡°I think she¡¯s dead,¡± I heard a voice whisper. A tiny voice. A child. ¡°Like, really dead.¡±


    I would have wanted to scare them, but I barely had the strength to keep my heart beating, so all I could offer was a turn of my head as I stuck out my tongue at them. It was more than just one kid around the bed, but several, about seven of them, staring at me intensely. The closest one, a girl with a medical eye patch over her right eye, giggled and ran off with three others. No, they didn¡¯t so much as run as they did limp and scuttle and drag their feet behind them. Their heads were shaved to the skin, and their bodies were covered by hastily kept together medical gowns.


    One of the boys who stayed by my side had a pincer for a hand, one that he used to scratch his head as he continued staring at me, as if expecting for me to say something to him. They smelt of medical alcohol, and their skin was clean, so clean that it stung my nose being so close to them. The four older boys remained standing, and the faint lines of old stitches crossing their shoulders, necks, and heads were all too visible in the dim light coming through the bars across one wall of the room. Some kind of cell, I thought. The corridor beyond was empty and silent. A camera stared down at us from the top corner of the room, its tiny red light blinking monotonously at all of us.


    I didn¡¯t remember anything after getting hit by Cherry; unconsciousness will do that to you. Someone had taken off my costume, leaving me in the biker shorts and sports bra I normally wore underneath my gear. They¡¯d had the decency to give me large gray sweat pants big enough to fit dad, but that was about it. The air was cold here, made colder by the emptiness in their eyes. There was accusation in their stares, questions that were being answered as more blood seeped into the bandages and darkened the white sheets pulled up to my waist. Olympia could bleed just like they could, and she was just about to take death hand-in-hand to wherever it was that superheroes went.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you meant to get us out of here?¡± the boy with the crab pincer asked quietly. It clicked once, twice, and I briefly glanced at the bloody gauze wrapped around his wrist near it.The other boys were the same; bloody gauze marked the end of skin and the start of something else.


    I stopped staring when one of the boys hid his forearm behind his back, looking away.


    But, in fairness, I didn¡¯t even know where ¡®here¡¯ was to answer them properly.


    ¡°Yeah, just give me a sec,¡± I muttered. ¡°I just want my guts to feel like they¡¯re back in place before I pull apart those bars and take you all out for some ice cream. Five minutes tops.¡±


    ¡°You look like you ruptured a stitch,¡± another boy said. He was Black, at least, I think he was¡ªthe fish scales coating his body made it hard to really know. ¡°A couple of them, actually.¡±


    It sure as hell feels like that, but thanks for the insight.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡± I shut my eyes, counted to three, got my hands underneath me and¡ª


    The pain that forced me onto my back nearly knocked my lights out in the process. I held my gut, clenched my jaw, and tried not to look so weak to these kids, but it was a losing battle.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t push yourself too hard,¡± a voice from the dark said. I turned my head slowly, and watched as the boys around me parted to reveal a guy maybe just around my age coming from the other side of the room. He was in the same gray sweatpants as I was, shirtless, too, with a body that bordered more on lean than muscular. He was tanned, had a mess of black hair on his head and the first inklings of hair on his chin. I almost thought he was completely normal, until I saw the giant white feathery wings sprouting from his back. I internally shuddered, thinking about how they might have connected to his skeleton, but now wasn¡¯t the time. But could you blame me? I''ve had mixed interactions with Kaiju lately. ¡°Don¡¯t hurt yourself more, now.¡±


    I waved him off, forcing my legs to move as I shoved the sheets off the bed and forced myself to sit upright. Hell. I sat with my hands clenching the steel frame, so hard my knuckles blossomed white. Pain. I forced myself to stand, stumbled, and got caught by the guy with wings. I wanted to thank him, but if I spoke, I probably would have passed out. Besides, that was the only bed in the entire cell, and there were coloring books at the end of it, crayons and pencils scattered all around it. The kids owned this bed, and I figured that they needed it more than I did. The floor was fine, yeah, just fine, especially as I slumped onto it and the cold bit into my back as I lay down. I was panting, sweating and shivering, and told the kids to use the bed; to rest and color.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    One of the younger girls brought me the pillow, holding it out the way she would a teddy bear if she had one. The guy with wings thanked her and took it, putting it underneath my head.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I said around breaths that wanted to so quickly leave my chest. ¡°Where¡­?¡±


    ¡°I was hoping you could tell us,¡± he said softly. He had an accent, something vague that made his words musical to listen to. He sat beside me, and I noticed the golden cross hanging from his neck. ¡°I don¡¯t know how long we¡¯ve been here for, either. If you have any information¡­¡±


    ¡°Only questions,¡± I muttered, staring at the ceiling and the camera. ¡°Who put me here?¡±


    ¡°The one who stinks of blood,¡± he said quietly. ¡°That monster made of flesh.¡±


    ¡°Cherry,¡± I said. He tilted his head, confused. ¡°That¡¯s it¡¯s name: Cherry.¡±


    ¡°How can something so vulgar have a name so pleasant?¡±


    ¡°Because the sicko that made it is twisted in the head,¡± I said, keeping my eyes open because I didn¡¯t trust what would happen if I relaxed too much. ¡°How long ago was that?¡±


    He shrugged, using his wings to drape over a few of the boys close to us. ¡°About an hour ago if I could guess, but sunlight doesn¡¯t seem to like this place, so I can¡¯t exactly be sure.¡±


    ¡°Kanz,¡± a younger girl said, tugging his arm. ¡°Is she going to help us escape?¡±


    ¡°She looks like she¡¯s just as good as dead,¡± Pincer Boy muttered. ¡°Just like Jake.¡±


    ¡°Sam,¡± Kanz said to the boy, then turned to me. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but they asked me a lot of questions, and children just don¡¯t know when to give up, so when they heard that you¡¯re a hero¡­¡±


    I smiled as laughter caught in my throat. ¡°Sorry to disappoint, kids. Times are rough.¡± I looked up at Kanz and asked, ¡°Not to flaunt, but¡­kids their age usually know me by now.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you¡¯re not as popular as you think,¡± Sam said.


    ¡°The last time they saw a television was when they were probably still learning how to talk,¡± he said, looking at Sam in a way that made the boy glare. ¡°They¡¯ve missed out on a lot of learning. I¡¯ve tried my best to tell them about the world, but really, how much should I tell them?¡±


    ¡°All of it, duh,¡± the girl tugging his arm said. ¡°We want to be smart, like you.¡±


    He rubbed her head, smiling. ¡°I wish I was as smart as you think I am, Kit.¡±


    ¡°So you lied about her helping us?¡± Sam asked him, dark brows lowering. ¡°You told us that if she¡¯s here, then everything¡¯s going to be fine, but we¡¯re still stuck in this fucking¡ª¡±


    ¡°What did I tell you about using that word in front of the younger children, Sams?¡±


    I worked my way into an upright position, my back pressed against the wall. Kanz tried to help, but I waved him off, because if it was strength that Sam wanted, then I was going to give it to him (even if my stomach was screaming at me to stop and unconsciousness was whispering in my ear). ¡°Hey,¡± I said, getting his attention. His chin remained high, jutted, daring. Not broken by whatever it is that Frankie is keeping you in here for. I dig it. ¡°Sam, right? Come over here for a second, I want you to hear something that nobody else should hear. It¡¯s a secret just for us two.¡±


    His eyes narrowed. ¡°If you¡¯ve got something to say, just spit it out.¡±


    I looked at the rest of the children, seeing their large eyes and how eagerly they were glued to me. I had a lump in my throat, one that stopped me from talking for several seconds. I hadn¡¯t told anyone about this for my entire life. The first thing I learnt about this planet was that humans reacted very differently to what I was used to. They were volatile, quick to get their emotions into the picture before their minds caught up. Fear and anger were always the first on the scene, that much I knew, and for kids who had grown up in the dark, in a cold cement cube, being cut up by some villain who toyed with body parts like they were toys, then I wasn¡¯t sure of what to expect.


    But I had to get through to them somehow. Had to make them believe that I was on their side, that I knew how they might have felt, but I wasn¡¯t sure. It was hard to relate to children who had probably been stolen and experimented on for gods knew how long, but I knew what comfort sounded like, and they wouldn¡¯t get it if I was groaning and shuddering on the concrete floor. I figured that they needed to hear a few words that sounded like hope, like I knew what I was doing.


    And maybe I can lie to myself good enough to believe it, too.


    ¡°Well,¡± I said weakly. ¡°I¡¯m not even entirely human, you know. I just look like you guys.¡±


    Silence followed for a long time. Long enough for Sam to finally break it and ask, ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°So,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve been stuck in a space a lot smaller than this before, and I know what it feels like not being able to do anything because there¡¯s people stronger than you with the keys, and the one time when someone might be able to help you, they¡¯re pretty damn weak and exhausted. It sucks, I know it sucks, and you¡¯re angry, and you¡¯re hurting, but listen up¡ªthat won¡¯t make your stay any easier.¡± I swallowed saliva, wincing. ¡°You¡¯ve got someone on the outside, don¡¯t you?¡±


    Sam remained silent, but nodded ever so slightly.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you think they miss you every day that you¡¯re not with them?¡± I asked softly.


    He shrugged one shoulder, looking away and folding his arms across his chest.


    ¡°Then I¡¯m more than sure you¡¯ve got to hold onto that thought for as long as you can, and smile about it too, ¡®cause guess what?¡± I looked at the kids, smiled at them as they listened. ¡°Fuck ¡®em, that¡¯s what. They can take a hell of a lot away from you, but they can¡¯t take away that. Keep that memory warm, and you¡¯re gonna be able to just keep going at it, and hell, if your smile and your hope is the last thing they can take from you, then they didn¡¯t win. And besides, do you really wanna lose to a bunch of people who lock up kids in the dark? I don¡¯t know about you guys, but people who do that are cowards, and you know what happens to every single coward, don¡¯t you?¡±


    They shook their heads. Even Sam was listening, at least a little. In all honesty, it was hard to tell if he was; my mind was swimming, my breaths were short, but I had a fire going in me.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know,¡± I said, ¡°¡®cause they never make it out alive long enough to tell me.¡±


    ¡°Your rallying cry to these children is to kill their captor?¡± Kanz asked.


    ¡°Do you want ¡®em to pat her on the back and tell her what she did isn¡¯t nice?¡± I gathered enough air in my lungs to pull my leg closer toward me. I steadied my breathing, my heart rate, and then I stood, this time without stumbling. I swayed on my feet, using the wall to get me steady, and slowly made my way toward the iron bars. Even before I got close to them, the hum of electricity was loud enough to be a deterrent not to touch them. I glanced down either side of the hallway, seeing nothing except darkness. It must be Wraith doing this, keeping the shadows thick and soupy and impenetrable except from the sole fluorescent bulb above the jail cell door. ¡°Listen, Sam, I might not be the greatest superhero in the world, or the one you wanted, but I¡¯m what you¡¯ve got, and you¡¯re what I¡¯ve got, so if there¡¯s one thing you can do for me it¡¯s to not give up just yet.¡±


    Kanz stood, unfurling his wings and draping them over his shoulders. ¡°You sound as if you have some kind of plan, and I must say, I don¡¯t really like the glimmer you¡¯ve got in your eyes.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Olympia,¡± I said to him. ¡°When do I ever have a plan? All I have is a gut feeling.¡±


    ¡°I was just about to start trusting you,¡± Sam muttered.


    This would be a good time to start talking to me, Witch, I thought, shutting my eyes. I didn¡¯t know what kind of connection she had to me or how this worked, or if she was even in this hellscape with me, but all I could do was try my luck for once. Things aren¡¯t going particularly great down here, and this was your bright idea in the first place. Frankie¡¯s got kids trapped here with me. Kids she¡¯s been hurting. If you wanted me to find something out, then sure, I¡¯ll do it, but get these kids out first, and I¡¯ll go running through this place for however long it takes me to find the bitch and her brother and whatever answers you wanted me to search for. Do we have a deal?


    I heard nothing, which, I guess, was indicative to half of the plans my mind came up with.


    A sound behind me. I turned around, then nearly doubled over to puke as raw agony pooled in my stomach. The shadows around us were frothing, stewing, and the children were starting to scare, to huddle around Kanz and hold so tightly onto his arms that they dug their short fingernails into his muscle. Even Sam stayed close to him, his tiny fists balled, his eyes darting and panicked. I knew what this was, knew that, when the first slithering hand of darkness came out of the shadows, this was just a warning to get the children huddled together. Frankie wouldn¡¯t bother opening the jail cell and risk them escaping. She would just have Wraith pull the kids into the abyss whenever she needed them, like fishing your hand into a bag of popcorn and pulling out a handful big enough to satisfy your cravings. But soon enough, a plan began to come together in my mind.


    Gods, I hated my plans sometimes, and being stuck with so much aching pain in my body was making me realize that they weren¡¯t as great as I thought they were. Fuck it, didn¡¯t matter right now. The shadows were swelling, and then came a figure through the wispy darkness. Slender, gary, looking half-dead with his tattered black shirt and baggy white pants. Slouched and reeking of that same sickly sweet golden brown powder. Wraith¡¯s hollow, sunken eyes looked around the room, and his blackened, toothy smile left some of the children clutching onto Kanz even tighter.


    Finally, after slithering over the kids, they landed on me. ¡°You¡¯re awake,¡± he said, raspy.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Frankie?¡± I said, trying to put force behind my words. ¡°I want to talk to her.¡±


    He shook his head as he began walking closer to me, his bare feet slapping the concrete, the smells of sweat and sweet nectar clashing. ¡°Talk. No, she doesn¡¯t want to talk. Not yet.¡± Wraith stopped in front of me, so close I nearly touched the electrified bars. He was taller than me, leered because of his slouch. My nose wrinkled with disgust as he licked his cracked bleeding lips. ¡°But you come with me, and¡­goodness, you smell so much more different than on the docks. You smell like rot. Disgusting. I hate¡ªI hate how you smell, but she wants you now, so we¡¯re going.¡±


    I didn¡¯t have time to object. The floor underneath me warped, snatching my legs out from underneath me and dragging me into a pool of air so frigid it felt like I¡¯d smacked my head against the concrete floor, snapping me into a stiffness so sudden pain shot down my neck from how fast I stilled. I jerked, gasped, then stopped falling as soon as I landed hard onto a metal table. I groaned, the pain in my gut soaring, screaming, wild in my ears as blood raged in my brain. Fuck. Fuck, it hurts. The bandages were soaked. It was a task to keep my eyes open and my brain thinking. Where? Room. Tables. I smelt Wraith, couldn¡¯t see him. I blinked for what felt like an hour. I saw a face, heard the noise of a door being opened and closed. My hands were snatched upward, yanking them away, just like my feet were. My head lolled as I tried to look around. Nothing. Or was there someone there? A person was talking. Talking to me? Fuck. Breathe, Ry. Get it together.


    I floated in and out of consciousness, fighting the blistering torture brewing in my stomach that rapidly consumed my body. I wanted to puke. To pass out. I barely had it in me to think.


    Light, dark¡ªI blinked, heard something, saw someone appear from my right.


    A pinprick of ice jabbed into my thigh, then slowly, the world cleared, and I was more than a little disappointed to see Frankie¡¯s pale, slender face right up close and personal. I looked around the room, saw the bench of operating tools (none rusted and filthy; all glinting and clean) beside me, and the dozens of scattered documents all over the walls. Dashes of dried blood were on the floor, but none were on Frankie herself. She was smiling at me, perfectly still as if she was a corpse left standing here. I couldn¡¯t see the rest of the room¡ªFrankie wouldn¡¯t let me when she grabbed my jaw and stared dead into my eyes. Her fingers dug into my cheeks, dug and dug until it hurt.


    ¡°She¡¯s alive!¡± Frankie said, setting down the syringe and needle she had emptied inside of me, which I hoped (and hoped dearly) was just adrenaline. ¡°And just like that, I did what Jesus could in a matter of minutes compared to the freaking days he spent rotting in that tomb.¡± She let go of my jaw, and my head immediately rolled to one side, too heavy to move. I watched as she circled the table of instruments, as she slid her finger over each one, then stopped at a tiny red vial.


    ¡°Know what this is?¡± she asked. When I didn¡¯t reply¡ªI wanted to, but my tongue wasn¡¯t willing to move any further than sloshing around in my mouth¡ªshe smacked me across the face, making me jerk awake that little bit more. ¡°This, my darling little damsel in distress, is a vial of blood which I so kindly borrowed from you when you offered for me to take it.¡± She held it in front of me, crouching so we were at eye level. Frankie turned it around, as if showing off a pair of diamonds she spent millions on, but hell, my blood was probably worth a hell of a lot more than some shiny rocks. I moved to try and take it from her, weak as I was, but my hands were bound to the table. Kept in place by leather bindings so tight they bit into my wrists, keeping me in place.


    ¡°Give¡­my¡­I didn¡¯t¡­.¡±


    ¡°Speak in a full sentence, why don¡¯t you?¡± Frankie stood up and then sat on the operating table, right beside my midsection, putting one leg over the other and looking at me. ¡°It¡¯s really amazing taking blood from something that isn¡¯t very normal. Let me explain it in a way you¡¯ll understand: usually, humans start to go limp when you take enough blood out of them. They¡¯re kinda like¡­water balloons¡ªuseless if they¡¯re empty, but pretty fun to pop if they¡¯re full. But you? Oh, no, you¡¯re different. Your body is brimming with blood. See, athletes usually have more blood than your regular old humans, and Supers have a little more than Normals. You, on the other hand, Oly, just ooze the stuff.¡± Frankie tilted her head, almost wistfully. ¡°You¡¯re so perfect I could kiss you, but my goodness, why would I want to put my lips onto something that¡¯s dying right now?¡±


    ¡°What¡­¡± For the love of god, you idiot, speak! ¡°What the fuck are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°This,¡± she said, holding the vial of blood up toward the sole naked bulb hanging from the ceiling. I squinted upward, trying to focus my hazy vision on the tube balanced on her fingertips.


    It took me a moment to see it, but¡­there, right in the mix of red was a hint of black fluid.


    Frankie slipped the vial into a pocket over her left breast, right behind a stitched love heart that read Best Doc, Love Mom. She dragged her fingers through my hair, then stroked my cheek. ¡°You¡¯re as cold as a corpse,¡± she whispered. ¡°Just as brittle, too, and I¡¯m sure I wouldn¡¯t be able to count the number of people who would want to drag a knife across your throat right now on one hand.¡± Frankie clambered onto the table, straddling me, nearing me, her warm breaths pouring out of her red parted lips. ¡°You¡¯re dying, Olympia. You¡¯re rotting from the inside out. Caesar wanted your blood because he¡¯s learnt that the only thing that can kill you, is probably something just like you. Something that can fight like you, live like you, be just as strong as you. Or something like that. I don¡¯t pay attention to him when he¡¯s giving me orders or telling everyone how he¡¯s going to do something with your body when you die, whatever that means. But he won¡¯t be too happy with you if you die on me. No, no, that won¡¯t do, Oly, but I just can¡¯t seem to stop it happening now.¡±


    She lowered her voice, as what little light dimmed in her eyes. ¡°I can¡¯t save you. I tried.¡±


    ¡°Rotting?¡± I asked hoarsely. Gods, it was getting harder to focus on her. ¡°What do you¡­¡±


    ¡°Your insides,¡± Frankie said, punching my stomach. Stars exploded in my vision. I groaned and swallowed a cry of agony. ¡°They¡¯re rotting even as we speak. Your body is decomposing!¡±


    ¡°What did you do to me, bitch?¡± I said, spitting the words and blood onto her face.


    All she did was smile and slowly lick the droplets that landed on her lips. ¡°Nothing, all I did was take a couple of gallons out of you, and I guess it doesn¡¯t matter, ¡®cause they¡¯re all useless now. Yep, rotting, the lot of it. At first I thought it was some kind of contamination created by this godforsaken filthy labyrinth, and I swear, Bloodforge could have helped me at least a little bit, but the truth is that whatever half of you is doesn¡¯t like sharing a body with the other half of you. Your powers aren¡¯t working, or else you would have said the whole ¡®I¡¯ll put my fist through your face¡¯ bit by now and probably have killed Cherry, so my hypothesis is that your powers are what keeps you alive and ticking. It keeps whatever disease you have inside of you from killing you outright.¡±


    I was holding onto the pain frothing around my stomach to keep up with what she was saying. ¡°My powers don¡¯t keep me alive, idiot,¡± I said. ¡°They¡¯re the same as everyone else¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°Oh, honey, please. We both know that you¡¯re as good at lying as you are a superhero.¡±


    ¡°So what now?¡± I asked weakly. My voice was ebbing, watering down. Frankie got off of me and stalked the bench of medical equipment, her eyes not leaving me once. ¡°Try to kill me?¡±


    ¡°God, you¡¯re stupid,¡± she said. ¡°Your body is already doing that for me. My job is a little harder than that.¡± She leaned against the bench, scalpel shining in hand. ¡°I have to keep you alive.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked.


    She took her time walking toward me, then rested her elbows on the table and smiled. She watched me for a while, then leaned close and whispered, ¡°Nobody likes watching the hero die.¡± She straightened after patting my chest, but it was closer to groping me than anything. ¡°But wouldn¡¯t you just love to know the real reason? I¡¯d tell, but I doubt you¡¯re gonna live to hear it.¡±

 Issue #30: The Occult, Of Course, That Makes Perfect Sense

    At some point in time, the cold steel operating table had become a filthy hospital bed, but I didn¡¯t have the frame of mind to know exactly when that happened. Unconsciousness came in relentless crashing waves, the choking kind that would feel like you were being strangled. I didn¡¯t know what Frankie had been doing to me, or how long she¡¯d been trying. I remembered her face, got chills running down my spine every time her blood-splattered surgical mask flashed into view. Hell, she wanted me alive, and I was floating on the edge of consciousness, just about able to keep my mind turning over to at least figure that death was a little bit further away than she used to be.


    Frankie had gotten frustrated, that¡¯s all I remembered. Maybe because she was right, maybe because I was dying and there was nothing she could do. I remembered¡­shouting, throwing, then she had leaned against the table, pulled down her mask, and her eyes had been ringed with dark circles, and her mouth had been moving, her head shaking, but you couldn¡¯t blame me for not being able to follow what was happening. Pain stopped being something I knew¡ªit was just a new thing I was sharing my body with, like some virus. Like some disease killing me, eating up my freaking insides, I thought. My eyes were still shut, and the sound of my own voice was new to me. Almost comforting. I hadn¡¯t had a clear thought in ages. In so long that I nearly forgot about it.


    I guess that sounded like I loved the sound of my own voice, but when you got used to hearing the sound of music dialed up to drown out the sound of screaming, you appreciated the small things in life a little bit more. My throat was still raw, I could feel it as I swallowed what little saliva I had left in my mouth. Thirsty. Hungry. A tube in my arm feeding me what little nutrients I needed to just about stay alive until Frankie needed me again. Gods. I didn¡¯t even have the strength to properly push these dirty, foul-smelling sheets off of me. Panic. I should be afraid. I couldn¡¯t muster the energy for that. My heart was loud in my ears, but maybe because I felt so drained.


    You¡¯re not gonna just die here, are you? I thought. I dragged my eyes open. Blinked. I turned my head left and right, seeing nothing except rows of empty hospital beds and darkness. Stained mattresses. Torn sheets. Curtains hanging limply off railings, and old tube drips dangling onto a floor littered with nothing except dust. The bed creaked as I shifted, breaking the silence. It was an announcement to whatever was in the dark, whatever was still lingering around these beds. I hadn¡¯t been afraid of the dark since, well, I guessed it didn¡¯t really matter now. I shut my eyes again, not really wanting to entertain any thoughts there were brewing because of the quietness.


    It was difficult not to, though. I was frustrated, angry at myself. I wasn¡¯t the kind who¡¯d cry out of anger, but I was the kind to swear and laugh a little because fuck. The air was frigid, my breaths, presumably, were curling out of my mouth and nose. This wasn¡¯t even about not wanting to die in some dark and forgotten, rotting little hospital nobody will ever find me inside. My arms were bound to my sides, even though the bindings were loose. My feet weren¡¯t even locked to the bed frame, but I still couldn¡¯t find it in me to kick the bedsheets off. I was frustrated because there was once a time when being strong meant life or death¡ªnot on this planet, though; the humans understood strength, but not the same way the people that raised me understood it. Emotions were a tool we were supposed to use, not get used by, and whatever else those fuckers had to say to the rest of us who couldn¡¯t even look them right in the eye without faltering to our bruised knees.


    Being at the bottom of the food chain was a feeling I had forgotten about. An emotion that I had long since left for dead deep in my mind. Some Normals saw the writing on the wall, knew that they weren¡¯t so much as near to the final rung of the food chain let alone on it. Supers thought they were on it, too, and I hated to admit it, but so many of them were on it. But Gods, if only they knew what was at the top, how miserable it would make them feel, because there was no fighting the inevitable. No point fighting the impossible. And I had gotten used to this shit of being at the top, of being the one that people pointed at and said, She¡¯s the one you should worry about.


    I was back there now, somewhere crawling around on the bottom rung, helpless, weak, frail and shivering in the dark all because of a supervillain I should have murdered a long time ago.


    Stop falling out of the sky, dad had said to me a long, long time ago. Just stay afloat.


    And I wish it was that simple, dad, but (and yeah, I was starting to see the bitter irony in this) it was easy for someone like him, someone so powerful to not even bother understanding what it was like to just not be able. It wasn¡¯t a mental barrier, or some internal struggle. It was just how it was sometimes, and sometimes you¡¯re just going to be slower, weaker, more vulnerable than them, and there was little you could do than just train a little more, push yourself a little more, and hurt yourself that little bit more to be just about as good as the person they were months ago.


    And now all of that had been taken away from me, and I was just as helpless as any human. No amount of training could have helped, because at the end of the day, strength was king.


    Period.


    ¡°Gods, you suck,¡± I said. My words fell flat into the dark. ¡°The Grand Admiral was right.¡±


    If these are the thoughts of all the girls around your age, then it is a blessing that I am rarely around them. I stayed still, laid out flat on my back, wondering if I had conjured up those words. My heart was starting to race. The embers of misplaced joy were sparking in my chest. I figured this was probably as bad as my spring break was going to get, being happy about hearing a villain¡¯s voice echoing around my head, but I couldn¡¯t help but smile weakly and laugh dryly, making my stomach tense with pain as bitter blood sprang into my mouth. She lives, and yet, you feel as if you¡¯re already wandering into a plain of existence where many are waiting for you.


    Witch, is that you? I thought. I prayed that I wasn¡¯t starting to lose my mind in this place. Where the hell have you been all this time? Where the hell are you right now, ¡®cause I need¡ª


    Help, yes, I know, but not yet.


    I balked, going blank for a short beat, then my eyebrows furrowed with a little bit of anger. What do you mean not yet? Frankie¡¯s been picking her way through my guts for the past hour.


    And yet you¡¯ve survived to tell me about it as you think of these¡­things, these people who I assume are just like you, she replied. All I need is for you to simply push forward that bit more.


    I snorted bitterly. Easy for you to say. You haven¡¯t had gallons of blood drained out of you.


    All I can say for now is that I believe in you, and when the time is right, I will be there. Silence, a poignant silence that brought panic briefly back to me. A mother knows what¡¯s best.


    Not when leaving me alone with shadows that were beginning to stir was what¡¯s best.


    Wraith was a pale flicker as he oozed out of the shadows, walking in his awkward, stilted gate toward me. Cherry lumbered behind him, a mass of flesh that made my dry mouth even more sour. Wraith was oddly silent, his dark eyes darting from one side of the shadows around us to the next, as if it wasn¡¯t him making them so restless. They were lashing out at bed frames, shoving away old curtains and crawling up the filthy, moss-stained walls like broken fingers grasping for the exposed beams above me. Frankie, meanwhile, walking ahead of him, looked frustrated again. Her lab coat hung off her shoulders, almost like some bloodied cape billowing in her own striding walk. She was carrying something in one hand, something large and thick, and the other was toying with a scalpel, flicking it around her knuckles like some silver coin with a knife¡¯s edge.


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re awake, so that¡¯s at least a little bit of good news,¡± she muttered. Frankie stopped beside my bed, making Cherry and Wraith halt a few steps behind her. Both remained mute, distant, as if they didn¡¯t want anything to do with her. I angled my head and spat on her lab coat, but that didn¡¯t do anything except add to the stains already coating it. She smiled flatly, then dropped the thing she was carrying¡ªa book, a very, very fucking heavy book¡ªonto my gut.


    The wind was blown out of my lungs, and my vision exploded into flickering sparks. She flipped the tome open as I tried to catch my breath. The pages were thick, almost leathery the way they sounded as they brushed against each other. I couldn¡¯t tell much about how it looked¡ªtoo dark, too little air in my lungs allowing me to focus. Frankie was looking for something, mumbling something, too, as she finally reached the tiny pink bookmark poking out from the top of the book.


    ¡°If it¡¯s one thing I hate, it¡¯s pseudo science,¡± she said quietly, maybe just to me. ¡°I took an oath, and this¡±¡ªshe waved her hand at the book, fingernails still wet with my blood¡ª¡°isn¡¯t that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure whoever trained you would be proud that you¡¯re standing up for what you believe in,¡± I said, coughing weakly, wincing, and trying to watch for the scalpel in her free hand.


    She stared at me, her face so hollow, so pale, that those dark locs of hair surrounding it made it seem as if her head was severed from her shoulders. Frankie leaned in close, hands on her knees, then said, ¡°I always hated the plucky little superhero bit. If I could I¡¯d cut out that tongue of yours and serve it up to Cherry. I suggest you keep your fucking mouth shut this time. All of that screaming nearly blew out my eardrums, and listening to music really, really screws with your concentration, and unless you want to end up dissolving into viscera, you¡¯ll listen to me this time.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± I said quietly to her. Her eyebrows knitted as she glared. ¡°Come close for a sec.¡±


    ¡°If you have something quippy to say, save it for¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s about the people who want to get me out of here,¡± I whispered to her. Cherry stirred, taking one step forward. Frankie lifted her hand, not looking at the monster just over her shoulder.


    She was skeptical for several seconds, her eyes narrowing as she watched my face. Then she leaned in a little closer, still holding that scalpel ever tighter. When she was close enough, I bit down hard on her ear, spitting blood into my mouth as she reared back and swore. Frankie clasped the side of her head, pulled back her fingers and saw the sheen of blood on her fingertips. I spat out the tiny chunk of flesh I¡¯d gotten off her, then smiled. It didn¡¯t last long¡ªshe hit me across the face, bare knuckles smacking against my temple. I laughed dryly, choking on saliva and coughing as my eye felt like it was going to swell. She flexed her hand, shaking it out as she glared at me.


    ¡°Did your grandma teach you how to throw a punch?¡± I asked. ¡°What the hell was that?¡±


    She placed her hand on my gut, on the wettest part of the bandages, then leaned on it. Blood seeped into the linen sheets and the cloth around my stomach. Agony blossomed in my torso. I bit back a cry and tensed, trying to swallow back the pain, but all she did was push more.


    ¡°Sister,¡± Wraith said, his voice like nails against a chalkboard. ¡°Caesar made it clear¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t quote that man to me,¡± she snapped quietly, pulling her hand away and wiping her fingers on the bed sheets. She took a deep breath, counted to three, then said, ¡°You¡¯re dying, O.¡±


    I wheezed out a response, steadied myself, then whispered, ¡°Not down here I¡¯m not.¡±


    ¡°And,¡± she said, grabbing the book, ¡°I don¡¯t have much of a choice left but to use this.¡±


    Am I supposed to know what that is?


    ¡°Great,¡± I said, finding at least enough strength to sound a little like my old self. ¡°She¡¯s gonna read me into an early grave. My mom stopped reading me stories when I was five, dipshit.¡±


    It barely took a second for Frankie to pull the scalpel out from her breast pocket and bury it into my thigh. I screamed out in a short burst as she wedged it deeper into the meat, all whilst her eyes scanned the pages she was reading, barely lending me so much as a glance. ¡°See,¡± she said, ¡°I was never the kid who cheered when the hero came on screen, and nor did I really give a shit about the supervillains. It¡¯s just so intriguing to me that we two probably grew up around the same time, watching the same shows, reading not quite the same books, and look at us now!¡± Frankie grabbed hold of the scalpel with her fist. I breathed hard, fast, as sweat stung my eyes. ¡°Friends who seemingly just cannot stop from bumping into each other. I think we should have nicknames.¡±


    Frankie twisted the scalpel. I tried not to scream, tried clenching my teeth harder together, but I couldn¡¯t stop as she dragged it an inch down my leg, but fuck, fuck! It felt like an eternity.


    ¡°Oh, what¡¯s that?¡± she asked. ¡°Not feeling like a nickname? Maybe you¡¯re just not that kinda gal. How¡¯s about I carve my fucking name into your thigh so you don¡¯t ever forget it?¡±


    I was breathing too fast to reply to her. The bed was drenched in sweat. My hair was glued to my face and neck, slipping into my mouth the faster my lungs expanded over and over again.


    Frankie slowly pulled the scalpel out of my thigh, so slowly that all I could do was groan until the frigid piece of metal was finally out. She wiped it on her fingertips, looking closely at it as it began turning a deeper shade of scarlet, crimson, and finally black. ¡°Won¡¯t you look at that?¡± she said, finally meeting my eyes. ¡°Making jokes at times like these isn¡¯t actually all that funny, is it?¡±


    Remain focused, Witchling said, her voice lost in the molassis of my mind. Two minutes.


    Frankie slipped the bloody scalpel back into her pocket, then held the book in both her hands again. Her eyes scanned the black pages, her eyebrows coming together as she read. More sweat dampened the pillow and my face. If you lose consciousness, we won¡¯t be able to find you, Witchling said. Stay focused. Two minutes. I couldn¡¯t tell what she was planning, barely had it in me to think, so I blinked the sweat out of my eyes, tried to slow my breathing, and watched Frankie begin to trace her finger along a page I couldn¡¯t see. She was muttering something silent, something that was making Cherry shift and groan, his patches of flesh roughly brushing against one another as he moved toward her, one step, then backed off as if repelled by something.


    ¡°A mixture of languages,¡± she muttered. ¡°Hebrew. Latin. Tamil and even Sanskrit. It¡¯s jumbled together, like some mess of body parts, except the sentences are broken. I suppose it¡¯s not really meant to make sense to the likes of us. But what good are instructions without testing the limits first?¡± She smiled at me. ¡°I hope you¡¯re excited to experience something brand new to you.¡±


    ¡°What¡­this¡­time?¡±¡ªOne more minute. Stay awake, she said¡ª¡°I¡­pain¡­.used to it.¡±


    ¡°Oh, not this kind,¡± she said, sticking her finger into the gouge she made on my thigh, working it around and making the muscle spasm and my body jerk in agony. Frankie raised her finger above the book, flipping to another page I couldn¡¯t see through my hair and sweat (and it was just sweat). Droplets tapped against it, and I caught a glimpse of Wraith dragging his forearm across his lips. The shadows were lapping at his legs, grabbing at his large baggy pants. ¡°This is the kind of something that you think doesn¡¯t even exist until you see it happening in front of you.¡±


    Frankie tilted her head. ¡°But, on the one hand, I suppose I don¡¯t quite believe in magic.¡±


    ¡°I-I do,¡± Wraith whispered hoarsely. ¡°It c-calls. Sings. You can hear it too, right, Frankie?¡±


    Her lips thinned as she ignored him. ¡°Whatever the case, happy soul selling season.¡±


    Close your eyes, I heard Witchling say, don¡¯t be alarmed, and do not die, child.


    I did as she asked, too confused, too wracked with pain to even questions either of them.


    Then the air started smelling strange, started feeling hot and heavy against my skin. The few loose stones on the floor skittered, their echoes sonorous. Oh, shit, I thought, bracing myself, hearing Frankie swear and ask Wraith what the hell was going on. She grabbed my arm, nails digging into my skin, but even through my eyelids I saw the bright flashes of light go off one after another in the dark¡ªbang, bang, bang¡ª-like ferocious little gunshots. I heard Frankie yelp, then something whined through the air after a particularly violent bang. Coldness washed over me. Her fingernails stopped gripping me. The explosions halted suddenly, and I opened my eyes, finding bed frames blown to shrapnel, tiles broken and splintered, as if a series of grenades had gone off.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Frankie, Wraith, and Cherry had vanished, probably because of Wraith¡¯s powers. I blinked again, getting grit out of my eyes, looking around me and finding nothing, nobody, until a figure came out of the dark, her gun drawn, her empty eyes tracking her surroundings. She was covered in smears of blood. Her gear was torn in places, exposing the taught muscle underneath. And I had never in my life been so happy to see Knuckles before the moment she holstered her pistol and worked off my binds. She looked unsure of what to do with the drip, shrugged, then decided to keep it in after she scanned my body. Typically, she didn¡¯t speak, but she was working quickly, tensely, as if there was something that was making her angry deep, deep in her gut right now.


    ¡°Lean against me,¡± she said. I didn¡¯t have much of a choice. It was either I kissed the floor or she dragged my limp body. I held onto both her and the drip, taking it with me. ¡°Come on¡­O.¡±


    If I wasn¡¯t in so much pain I would have smiled. We walked-limped through the dark at a painfully slow pace. My right leg was shot. My entire body was out of this. Every footstep brought me a little closer to passing out, and holding onto the IV drip bags was starting to become harder and harder as they slipped through my fingers. Knuckles had one arm around my lower back as the other gripped hard onto her pistol. I didn¡¯t know where I was going. All I knew was that her gun was smoking, and that she had shot at something, maybe someone, but I couldn¡¯t tell right now.


    I doubled over and puked, collapsing onto my hands and knees. I tasted bile and blood.


    And something so sour it made me puke all over again.


    I shuddered, glad I couldn¡¯t see the vomit on the floor in front of me. With a shaking hand, I wiped my mouth, and flinched at how cold my fingers, my knuckles, my entire arm felt on me.


    ¡°Did she poison you?¡± Knuckles asked, pulling me back up, putting away her gun so she could hold me up a little more. ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t smell like it.¡± She did the unthinkable and put my puke to her lips after unclasping her mask. Knuckles spat, then fit it back into place, the shadows obscuring most of her face. ¡°Nothing I can taste, either. But I taste stomach acid. Intestines, too.¡±


    ¡°Should¡­Should I be concerned that you know how that tastes?¡± We were staggering along again. The shadows were frothing again. I heard Cherry¡¯s bellowing shriek explode down the hallway of forgotten hospital beds. Knuckles yanked me away from a wall, where a shard of black erupted seconds later. I collapsed onto the floor, my jaw slamming against the tiles. My head rang. Weak. My limbs worked, flopped, tried to get myself up and away. Where? To where? Knuckles dragging me along the floor, shooting, shouting, the gunfire glinting off her black mask. The shadows were lashing out, grabbing at beds, throwing them at us. A hailstorm of metal and mattresses, broken tiles and shattered mirrors and¡ªa scream, a limp hand, then a dash of blood.


    Knuckles dropped to the ground, groaning, then grabbed me by the armpit and hauled me onto my feet as we staggered forward. Through my hazy vision and strands of hair I saw beds clattering against something invisible. Saw them bend and bounce off into the dark and slam against the walls. Some kind of barrier. A shield. Knuckles was half-dragging-half-pulling me along, my feet lost underneath me, not able to keep up, stumbling over tiles and sheets, each other and her boots. The drips had been yanked out of me. Pain was beginning to swallow me whole. I had puked again. Didn¡¯t know when. Voices. Voices screaming, calling. Knuckles stumbled and fell, and this time she didn¡¯t get up. The barrier faltered. A bed shot over my head as I fell beside her, biting into the tiles again, whacking my temples against the floor. The shadows blossomed.


    Bubbled.


    Frothed.


    They crept over my skin, feeling like it was burning, chewing, eating at my flesh.


    A tiny hand clamped onto my fingers, only big enough for three in its fist. I was dragged forward, my hair wild in the shadow¡¯s lashing waves, my ears deaf to the sound of metal slamming against the walls and the floor and the shouting of people¡ªno, children¡ªcoming from the dark.


    A tug on my leg. Something pulling me back. I bit down, tried not to feel the pain that shot down my spine as I was yanked in both directions. The shadows were livid, alive, raging and rioting around me, around us, clamping onto my legs, climbing up to my waist, not letting go¡ª


    Something rose behind me, something large enough that I could feel it.


    Cherry mewled his hellish scream, making the ground shudder as he ran.


    I would like to tell you what happened, but all I saw a moment later was a terribly bright blinding light above us, so harsh and cold it singed the hair right off my arms, then a silent pop.


    The darkness vanished, replaced by a blazing white light, then it all came rushing back.


    I came to with a sudden start, and was immediately pressed back onto the ground by a slender hand. I breathed quickly, gasping for air, which only dried my throat even more. I looked around myself, saw the bodies standing stiffly all around me. They were featureless and slim, too perfect, lacking everything that a normal person looked like. Mannequins, I thought. The real bodies were sitting around me, huddled together, some with their backs against the wall, others a little hunched over with their knees against their chests. Sam was staring at me from the back of the group, his face flat, his pincer clicking continuously as he pulled at his medical gown and short cropped hair.


    When I looked up, I saw Witchling¡¯s empty black eyes staring down at me as she smiled. She looked clean, fresh, and smelt of lavender washing soap. My head was on her lap, and she had been sliding her fingers through my hair, continuing even as I tried pushing her hand away from me. Knuckles, though, was unconscious a few feet away, with a heavy blanket both under her head and spread over her body. She was breathing, and the mask was still on her face, but loosely. She had a gash along her ribs just as wide as mine felt. Someone¡ªKanz, I guessed, as I watched him check her temperature and dab a cloth against her forehead¡ªhad tried to patch up her side.


    The darkness wasn¡¯t so heavy around us. Orbs of light floated just above our heads, mellow enough not to be painful to the eyes, but bright enough to banish any lingering shadows.


    I am not a healer, Witchling said to me as I shut my eyes again, not because I was comfortable on her lap¡ªGods, ew¡ªbut because my body still felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. So I can¡¯t be sure that she¡¯s going to be okay, but the winged boy seems to care a lot.


    ¡°The kids,¡± I whispered. ¡°Are they all okay? None of them got hurt, right?¡±


    Yes, they are all safe, some with scrapes, but fine, even though they are¡­a handful.


    You mean a distraction, I thought, just so the kids wouldn¡¯t hear. I know what you are, Witch, and what you¡¯re capable of, so don¡¯t fool me with this caring mother bullshit, got it?


    Witchling stopped running her fingers through my hair and seemed to tense. I get it.


    ¡°But¡­thanks,¡± I muttered, ¡°for saving me back there, even though you put me in here.¡±


    Teleportation was never my strongest extra curricular, she replied. I sometimes struggle with it, unlike Damsel. My plan was originally supposed to be one of silence and clean efficiency.


    Yeah, and how¡¯s that going for you so far?


    I apologize, she said softly. A pause before she spoke, one that lasted so long that I could hear the children whispering amongst each other. It is not the first time that my better judgment has been clouded by ambition. Her voice, for once, wasn¡¯t smooth, but rigid, rough, about to break.


    ¡°Whose idea was it to get the kids?¡± I asked. ¡°And how did you find ¡®em, anyway?¡±


    I followed the link I have with you, she explained, which led us to them, but, admittedly, Ruslana was the one who you should thank, because she was uncompromising in letting them go.


    I opened my eyes and glanced at Knuckles. She didn¡¯t look at peace being asleep, she looked troubled, annoyed, like she was running. ¡°Knuckles didn¡¯t want to leave them behind?¡±


    ¡°She didn¡¯t,¡± Kanz said, folding his legs and sitting beside her. ¡°She shot this woman.¡±


    ¡°Well, she tried to, anyway,¡± Sam muttered, picking lint off his gown. ¡°It didn¡¯t work.¡±


    I smiled and laughed quietly. ¡°Fuckin¡¯ A, Ru. That¡¯s what I love to hear.¡±


    Kit, if I remembered correctly, shuffled closer and asked, ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    It was then that I noticed the tiny cat ears sprouting from either side of her head, twitching almost eagerly, her eyes glimmering just the same too. ¡°It means she did the superhero thing.¡±


    ¡°What superhero thing?¡± Sam asked.


    ¡°The saving people thing, even if certain people want to stand in your way.¡±


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ A!¡± Kit said, making Kanz flinch. ¡°Two superheroes.¡±


    ¡°So what does that make her?¡± Sam said, looking at Witchling.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. ¡°She put me here, so she¡¯s not in my good books right now.¡±


    Kanz put his hand on Sam¡¯s shoulder before the boy could say something. The kids were still keeping their distance from Witchling, and I would, too. Her eyes were far worse to look at during the day, never mind surrounded by rotting mannequins trapped in an abandoned hospital. ¡°We might not see eye to eye, but she ensured our safety, so for that, I¡¯ll give her the benefit of the doubt. Besides, without her bringing you here, what are the chances we would have been freed?¡±


    ¡°I think your reasoning is a little wonky, birdie,¡± I said. ¡°No offense, by the way.¡±


    ¡°None taken,¡± he said, smiling. ¡°It¡¯s been a long time since I¡¯ve heard someone talk about my wings, let alone the likes of you. We used to watch you on the news late at night back home.¡±


    ¡°So,¡± Sam said, sitting back down, ¡°you really aren¡¯t lying, you actually are a superhero?¡±


    I coughed, reminding me of how much pain was still brewing inside of me. The ground I coughed on was littered with blackened saliva. Kit¡¯s ears flickered as her small nose scrunched up. ¡°Yep,¡± I said weakly. ¡°Daughter of Zeus in the flesh and blood. A little more blood than I would like, though.¡± I forced myself to sit upright, then put a hand to my mouth to stop myself from barfing on one of the kids or myself. I swallowed, grimaced, then said, ¡°We need to leave soon.¡±


    ¡°You smell bad,¡± Kit said, inching away from me, her ears now flat. ¡°Like Jake did.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°I think I¡¯m about to go hang out with him if we don¡¯t leave, like, now.¡±


    Our escape won¡¯t be simple, she said in my mind. These children will only make it harder.


    ¡°You¡¯re starting to piss me off, you know that?¡± I muttered. ¡°They¡¯re kids. Leaving this place is going to happen with them going out first no matter what. End of story, all right?¡±


    The children, Witchling said. They are kept here for a reason, and taking them away from here could mean dire consequences for both them and us. You will not always be there to protect them, and the ones using them for their bodies will hunt you down. Unlike regular superhumans, Kaiju children tend to have a greater healing ability than most. That girl must be using them for¡ª


    ¡°Say it so they can all hear it,¡± I said, glancing at her, meeting her black eyes. ¡°They need to hear about what exactly you think is going on in here, since this is mostly your fault, Witch.¡±


    They looked at her, but few held her gaze. Witchling, not quite sitting on the floor but hovering an inch off it, sighed, closed her eyes, and continued. From what I know, Kaiju possess a common factor, no matter the intensity of their Evolution. Some fully evolved Kaiju, much like the monsters Olympia has fought in the past, are animals in being but human in mind, but still, their bodies regenerate incredibly quickly. Even now, most of you will Evolve past what you are right now, and yes¡­I understand the fear in that, and it is a gamble that many of you will not be able to be successful in, and be rest assured, Frankie will want to use you as much as she can before anything like that takes place. Your healing ability is what she¡¯s after, though I don¡¯t know why.


    Silence washed over the children, as if they had all been gagged. I hadn¡¯t ever thought about why some Kaiju were more animal than human, and looking at them now, at faces still fat with childhood, hell, I couldn¡¯t imagine myself having to try to kill them one day. I shook away the thought as something crossed my mind. Something that was starting to click into place for me.


    ¡°She has an experiment going on,¡± I said. ¡°Something about reanimation, but, and I¡¯m just guessing here, she wants to make something live. Cherry, that monster thing, isn¡¯t actually alive. It¡¯s a monster, plain and simple, and she took gallons worth of my blood out of me for whatever reason, maybe for Caesar, maybe because he figured that¡¯s the only way he can kill me, maybe by trying to put it in himself, maybe because he¡¯s some nutjob who wants me dead for no freakin¡¯ reason. She wants something. Something that she can only get organically from people like us.¡±


    The Triumvirate wants your blood and these children, Witchling said. Her eyes remained closed, her brow still knitted. The orbs of light flickered momentarily as something crashed against a wall far, far from where we were. At least, I hoped it was far away¡ªI wasn¡¯t in fighting shape, and neither was Knuckles, and I didn¡¯t trust Witchling to save the kids when the time came. But I can assume¡­Kanz, was your name? That there used to be more of you, but that isn¡¯t the case now.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said, nodding. ¡°There used to be five, maybe six coming in at any given time.¡±


    ¡°Nobody new now,¡± Sam added. ¡°Nobody since the superhero girl.¡±


    I hated saying his name, so I whispered it instead: ¡°It¡¯s because of Cedric.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that name doesn¡¯t ring a bell,¡± Kanz said quietly.


    I coughed again, nearly doubled over, but Kit hadn¡¯t said a word for a handful of minutes. She was staring at me, her brown eyes wide, almost glossy in the soft light. I almost felt guilty for looking this way in front of her. ¡°It¡¯s just a guess, but he¡¯s a jackass who traffics kids like you.¡±


    Kanz¡¯s wings heaved off his shoulders. ¡°You mean that you kil¡­got rid of him?¡±


    If I wasn¡¯t already cold, I would have been now. ¡°No,¡± I muttered. ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°What happened to him?¡± Kit whispered.


    I jerked my chin at Witchling. ¡°She knows. Her boss now has him in her ranks.¡±


    Kanz was the first on his feet, and soon the rest of the kids were, too. I remained seated beside Witchling, not strong enough to stand, but not really caring, anyway. Witchling was the most powerful person in this room. If she wanted to, these kids would be puffs of red vapor in the next few seconds. The realization that my guess was right sat in my stomach, brewing, simmering, as Witchling remained with her eyes closed, still as the mannequins surrounding us. Had Ava done a good thing by forcing him into her ranks? Heck, it meant fewer kids in this godforsaken place were being experimented on by a supervillain, right? Yeah, ¡®cause two fucking wrongs, Rylee. Two fucking wrongs don¡¯t make a right. Supervillains were shitty people, that wasn¡¯t news anymore.


    It was the fact that they were playing who could be the worst villain right in front of me.


    I associate myself with that girl purely for my own personal reasons, Witchling said. I refused to join the raid as soon as I learnt about it because of what it entailed. More was at play, I knew, and this is where it led me. The powers that be are beyond your understanding, and the man who crafted this labyrinth is a man who poses a greater threat than most villains the Olympians fought against decades ago. I came here to seize an opportunity, not because of a child and her dreams. Witchling opened her eyes, just as the sound of crashing metal got a little bit louder.


    ¡°It¡¯s difficult to trust you with eyes like that,¡± Kanz said, his wings spread to shield the kids. ¡°The only way I can believe anything coming out of your mouth is if Olympia decides¡ª¡±


    ¡°I trust her,¡± I muttered, massaging my eyes. He looked at me, frowning.


    ¡°But..surely you don¡¯t mean that.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Listen, dude, I¡¯m dying right now. I feel like shit. If Cherry comes knocking on that door behind you, there¡¯s only one person who can stop him, and she¡¯s right beside me.¡± I coughed again. My lungs felt as if they punched against my ribcage. Dazed. Catching my breath. Keep it together, superhero. ¡°We need her help to escape from this place before it¡¯s too late.¡±


    Witchling turned to me, her red hair spilling over her shoulder. Thank you.


    ¡°Fuck off,¡± I said to her. ¡°I¡¯m making a decision just for now. As soon as we get out of here, me and you are going to have a very long talk before I rip every one of your teeth out.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s scary,¡± Kit whispered, tugging at Kanz¡¯s arm. ¡°I like her.¡±


    I owe you more than my gratitude, and for that, I can offer a way out for all of you. Olympia is key to my goals, and you are dear to her, so¡­I will help you escape. Then it happened in a blink of an eye¡ªthe orb closest to Knuckles shattered as a whip of darkness striked it. Witchling snapped her fingers, casting another orb that eviscerated it. I watched as blood leaked from her nose, quickly wiped away on the back of her hand. This Alternate Realm was crafted to keep me out, to seize my abilities and those who might come across it in hopes to tamper with the goings on hidden inside of it, but Bloodforge must not have anticipated that we aren¡¯t younglings anymore. We have minutes before Wraith is able to find us. Minutes before our chances of escaping become slim to none. But to do so, I require something from you¡ªthe book that girl was holding.


    I had about a dozen questions right now, but I had to focus on the urgent, like trying not to puke up what felt like my stomach lining. ¡°Are you sure that we need to grab that book from her?¡±


    How else does one open a door without a key?


    ¡°By forcing your way through it.¡±


    Witchling smiled, almost reached for me until she thought otherwise. Youthfulness and its consequences will catch up to you one day, Olympia, but for now, understand that will not work.


    Kanz¡¯s soft brown face was a mess of emotions and thoughts. I knew what kind of person he was, knew from the start that he was a protector. That¡¯s why I wasn¡¯t surprised when he said, ¡°And how, if possible, can I be of help? Though I will only do so if you protect the children.¡±


    Your duty will be to just protect them, she explained. It¡¯s Olympia who I need most.


    I glanced at her. ¡°I¡¯m not in fighting shape. Without my powers, I¡ª¡±


    There is a way to get your powers back in this place, she said to me. Another orb shattered. Another tongue of darkness. She was forced to keep her hand spread to light two more orbs, both not as bright as the one that was broken. Blood poured down from her nose again, dripping onto the back of her hand. But I will need you to barter something in return. I am sure a hero such as yourself wouldn¡¯t falter. After all, it is what heroes do, is it not? More blood. More orbs. The ground shuddered, then Cherry shrieked, the sound carrying a lot closer toward our group.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± I said quietly.


    Your soul, how do you feel about selling it?

 Issue #31: Kill Me Quicker Next Time

    The fastest way to kill any species is by searching through their stomach cavities for their soul. It was the first thing I was taught from where I came from about combat. You shoot for the kill. Just get your hands dirty for once and don¡¯t mind about the sounds they made if you got it wrong and didn¡¯t plunge your arm in deep enough. That was just about all I knew about having a soul. Other species believed in it, and when you¡¯ve seen enough bodies spill open, you kinda figured that they don¡¯t exist at some point. The lights just get turned off one day and that¡¯ll be that for you forever.


    So the idea of selling it was like asking me how badly I wanted to get in front of a stadium full of people to explain why I killed supervillains¡ªstupid, pointless, and maybe a little ridiculous. My hand was absentmindedly hovering over my bleeding stomach, gingerly touching soaking wet bandages. I had been taught practicality in fighting, but hey, I¡¯d admit that I enjoyed being creative, being flashy, turning around mid-air and trying out something new just because I could. It went against what had been drilled into me since I learnt how to walk, so maybe this was supposed to be one of those times that I had to let go of what I knew, which was starting to become a recurring theme in the past few weeks of my life. Suddenly I knew fuck all about the world around me.


    But on the other hand, I was also shaking, too weak to even stop myself from swaying as I tried stopping myself from puking again. A force was keeping me upright, like an invisible hand on the small of my back. Witchling, she was keeping me together, making it look like I had at least enough strength to face the kids without having to lay wheezing on the floor. I hated her with every ounce of my being and then some¡­but I could give her some thanks. But what options did I have left? I was scared deep down. Scared that this is where it was going to end. Scared that mom maybe wasn¡¯t even going to have a chance at seeing how her daughter finally¡­died. To see if she even made this superhero thing work out and moving out wasn¡¯t as stupid as it had sounded. Not that I wanted her to see me in this state. Gods, Ry, how did you get yourself into this kind of mess?


    The ground shuddered again. Cherry bellowed louder, closer. An orb flickered, and this time Witchling¡¯s spread hand couldn¡¯t keep it from vanishing into nothing. The dark reached out a little bit more, meaning the kids were forced a little closer together, trying to keep away from it.


    I didn¡¯t like the idea of leaving Witchling alone with my unconscious body and all these children. I didn¡¯t take her as the kind of supervillain who really gave a damn about doing the right thing in that split second moment when it all came down to it. She would grab Knuckles¡¯ body and mine, get whatever she needed by force, and then get out of here without the kids, even if they were shrieking for her to come back the entire time. Fuck. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to keep my brain from pouring out of my freaking eyeballs. The headache was doing a damned good job of hammering it around my temples and making gooey pulp out of it right now. I didn¡¯t have a choice but to believe in what a supervillain was saying about selling my godsdamned soul.


    Because unless I wanted these kids to die here, then what else was I supposed to do?


    ¡°Who would I be selling it to exactly?¡± I asked, my voice straining in my throat.


    To name It will be to call It, and you have not yet agreed to meeting It.


    Great, some kind of being that couldn¡¯t even have a name. Of course. Of course!


    ¡°She¡¯s waking,¡± Kanz said quietly. Knuckles groaned as her eyes slowly pulled open, and I couldn¡¯t help but smile a little with relief. The gash in her side was still bleeding, still large enough to make me wince as she moved, but her immediate reaction was to grab Kanz¡¯s wrist as soon as he tried dabbing the sweat off her forehead. Her ash-blonde hair was still tousled and filthy, sweeping over her forehead and putting grit and dust right back into her eyes. All Kanz did was smile at her as he brushed it away from her eyes and used his free hand to wipe away the sweat. Hell, if my heart wasn¡¯t trying so hard to burst out of my chest I would have felt something in it.


    We don¡¯t have much longer, Witchling said. Blood still trickled from her nose and hung in the air just above her lap, collecting into a small scarlet ball. He¡¯ll trace my essence very soon.


    On cue, several mannequins collapsed as the floor shook again. The children whimpered, kept together by a Sam who was, admittedly, doing a great job putting on a brave face for them.


    ¡°Gods, I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m saying this, but¡­¡± I coughed, and a shard of pain lanced from one side of my torso to the other, blurring my vision with agony. ¡°Fine. Just freaking do it.¡±


    Kit edged out of the group, those tiny ears poking out of her short peach fuzz hair still flat on her head. She tugged at my ripped pants, looking up at me with eyes that almost glowed in the dark. ¡°You¡¯re going to stay with us, right?¡± she whispered. ¡°You¡¯re not going to leave us behind?¡±


    I smiled, tried to, and said, ¡°Only if the chick beside me isn¡¯t trying to steal my soul.¡±


    She looked at Witchling, eyebrows furrowed. ¡°I don¡¯t like the way your eyes look, and you¡¯re very scary, and you smell like that monster, but please don¡¯t steal her soul. She needs it.¡±


    ¡°Heard that?¡± I said to the supervillain. ¡°Screw with me and she¡¯ll fuck you up, got it?¡±


    ¡°I really wish you¡¯d stop swearing in front of her,¡± Kanz muttered. ¡°She¡¯s impressionable.¡±


    ¡°Yeah! I¡¯m going to, um, what was that word you used?¡±


    Another orb winked out, and this time, a shadow leapt out from the blackness surrounding us, snatching one of the kids by his throat. Before another dart of black could grab another kid, Witchling slapped her hands together, making a sound so sharp that Kit cried out. The shadows wilted enough for Sam to wrench the boy free before his face could turn a burning red. He gasped and wheezed, coughing up slews of saliva and curling up into a shivering ball. For a moment, that¡¯s all anyone could hear¡ªcoughing, wheezing, then the sound of younger children breaking out into sniffling tears and suppressed cries. I shut my eyes, trying to block out Cherry¡¯s bellow.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get on with this,¡± I said. ¡°Before I don¡¯t have a soul left to barter.¡±


    Believe it or not, this wasn¡¯t the first time I had sat in the center of an intricately drawn pentagram. Junior high had been a tough time for me, and before my powers kicked in, I had this knack for doing things that made people want to hang out with me, like me that little bit more so I could sit with them at lunch and maybe say hi to me sometimes. Gods, my dad was the greatest hero the world had ever seen, and his daughter couldn¡¯t even get an inch off the ground. Of course I was going to do something stupid (all right, maybe more than just once), and that something stupid turned out to be willingly trying to summon a demon with the rest of the track and field team.


    It hadn¡¯t worked, of course, and videos had been taken of me sitting in a circle chanting gibberish with my eyes closed like some freaking moron. By the time I found out that Harper had accidentally sent it to all of her friends, I was already swimming in the same pool as the weird kids who exclusively only watched videos of Supes doing Gods knew what to Normal women and men at lunch time. So yeah, fun times, high school, and now, sitting in the dark, surrounded by shattered mannequins staring at me with their featureless faces and hollow eyes, and listening to the whisper of frightened children, all I could do was watch Witchling as she used a tiny red flame dancing on the tip of her finger draw spiraling markings on the floor all around the two of us.


    Sit as still as you can, she said, dragging her long fingernail across the floor. Please.


    I didn¡¯t have the strength to move. I was hanging on by a thread, the world around me lucid and liquid and sounding muffled as if behind a wall of damp cotton. Thoughts rumbled around my mind, jumbled and messy, sprinkled with hazy memories and doused in mismatched emotions. I wanted to puke again. Think I did. Don¡¯t know. My head hurt like hell. Knuckles was awake, sitting beside Kanz, watching me with fine, cat-like eyes that only narrowed the longer that Witchling took to carve these dark symbols into the floor, as if she hated seeing me like this. Or¡­I don¡¯t know. I blinked and she was on the floor again, resting. The kids kept moving around. Maybe because of the orbs winking out and reappearing in different places. Cold. Freezing. My stomach felt like ice was growing in it, spreading through my guts and right up my throat. I swallowed, winced. Bad taste. Spit. Dribble down my chin. I swayed forward too far, then¡ª


    A hand, cold and slender, put me back in place. Fingers snapped together, and my vision briefly cleared. Shaking my head, I saw Witchling¡¯s face right opposite mine. She sat, for once, on the floor, her legs folded, and her hands holding mine. Our palms faced upward, and she had drawn something on them. Some kind of symbol I couldn¡¯t really describe. Maybe a bird¡¯s head caught in a blaze, its beak wide open as it shrieked, as if it was burning right on my palms.


    I need you all to look away once the circle begins to smoke, Witchling said. If you look at It, something will be taken from you that cannot ever be replaced. Kanz, if you may, turn around. She will be safe. Our departure from this Realm solely relies on your ability to trust me, children.


    I almost turned my head until Witchling gently cupped my chin and turned it back to face her. Her lips were moving, but the silence surrounding us was so loud that it was almost droning, almost painful to listen to. The air reeked of sulfur, then of burning meat¡ªmy palms stung, making me gasp sharply. I nearly closed my hands, but Witchling kept them open, forcing her fingernails into the marking until my blood dripped off my fingers. The ground shuddered again, but her lips didn¡¯t stop moving¡ªthey moved faster, the air grew warmer, smelt worse. The children weren¡¯t quiet anymore, maybe because of the growing darkness, maybe because the ground was shaking in steady beats now. The same way it felt when Cherry was near enough to walk toward you without missing a single step. The pain in my hands only grew. Her nails only got deeper. I breathed in, bit down on my own teeth, clenching my jaw tight as her mute words got faster and faster and¡ª


    Then she spoke, her voice all I could hear; it came from deep in her throat, deeper even than that; from a place that spilled icy vapor out of her mouth: ¡°You are a child of this Realm. Do not let her claim you, do not abide by her terms. She is a servant of the beyond, and you are¡ª¡±


    ¡°Rylee Addams.¡±


    I collapsed onto my face, expecting to feel cold concrete punch against my nose, but instead, it felt like I had fallen right onto a pillow. For the first time in ages, I had the strength in my arms to shove my face away from the ground, shaking my hair to set loose the particles of¡­sand?


    I remained on all fours, and Gods above it felt so, so good to not feel like a lump of flesh anymore! I got onto one knee, energized, until I looked around myself. I remained there, paused, not moving an inch. My heart wasn¡¯t beating, but no, that wasn¡¯t right¡ªit was just so slow that it sounded as if it wasn¡¯t. Time was moving oddly around me. The particles I had flung off my hair floated in the air above me, and when I waved my hand through the cloud, they parted like bubbles suspended in a wave of water. Even my hair remained standing around my head, swaying like some wet towel as I stood. My feet kicked up more gray sand that hung in air that was just a little lighter in color. I was naked, too, which was great¡ªbut the formless kind of naked. No parts, not even my belly button¡ªjust a figure that felt numb to the touch as I pressed against my gut.


    I still had scars and burns and the faintest lines of stitches all over me, but they glowed a faint white, making it look like I was a cracked piece of pottery hastily kept together by soft light.


    ¡°Rylee Addams.¡±


    That voice again. Sound was silent here, turned down to zero, making me strain to hear anything at all. The sand didn¡¯t shuffle or swish under my feet as I moved, and my breaths didn¡¯t rattle out of my throat. Something touched my shoulder, sending a burst of warmth gushing down my spine that spun me around fast. I stepped back, flinging more dust into the air. A mute white sun sat on the horizon behind the figure in front of me, but it didn¡¯t make a shadow out of It. The light didn¡¯t even feel warm on my skin. It was like a spotlight, cold and distant. Or a dead eyeball.


    The figure in front of me was¡­a thing, a flicker of white and black and ragged shapes. It stood like a human but moved like it was passing through a kaleidoscope of blacks and whites and grays. Its edges were sharp and then smooth. Its features leaping out toward me then vanishing.


    ¡°What the fuck are you?¡± I said, but the words didn¡¯t come out of my mouth¡ªmy mouth moved a little, sure, but my voice came from all around me. ¡°Where the hell am I right now?¡±


    ¡°Rylee Adira Addams,¡± It said, and again, Its voice came from everywhere. The sands hummed and shook, tickling my feet. ¡°Such a lovely name, spoiled on a soul so tainted and red.¡±


    A shiver crawled down my spine. ¡°That¡¯s not my¡ª¡±


    The thing shifted, suddenly behind me, closer, and that¡¯s when I heard the din of melodies coming from Its being, as if something was singing inside of it as it stared at me without eyes. ¡°Do not lie to me. I have watched you from even before the beginning of your ancestral lineage. It is a name, no doubt, that only those you loathe have called you. The humans do not know, do they, that their heroine hides a name this vengeful, betraying, and dripping with selfish blood. The blood of kings and their slaves, queens and their offspring that perish in wars that amount to nothing more than baths of sacred golden blood that ooze into the bedrock of decedent and forgotten empires.¡± Behind me. That touch of warmth. A burst of red color in my skin before it quickly vanishes away. ¡°There is nothing you can hide in my Realm, Ry¡¯ee, for I know all of your story.¡±


    You couldn¡¯t blame me for reacting like I usually would when someone knew too much about me, dad, or anything that would fuck my entire life into bloody oblivion. I quickly swung my fist around, cutting through nothing except the tiny grains of sand that hovered around me. The blur of black and white and gray hummed over my shoulder, watching as I panted and glared at It.


    ¡°So much anger and rage, pain and sadness¡ªthe story of thousands who have come before you, and the countless who will come after.¡± It moves closer, and this time I don¡¯t back away. ¡°You fear so much, and yet you stand defiant, even in front of the inevitability of your weakening soul.¡±


    ¡°Listen,¡± I said to It. ¡°I didn¡¯t come here to listen to your damned riddles. I came here to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yes, I know. That¡­woman sent you here to barter your soul. But I do not accept it.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°What?¡± I said, spreading my arms. ¡°There are people out there who need me!¡±


    ¡°And there are billions more, no, trillions who will survive if you die right this second.¡± It flows around me, circling me lazily. ¡°Did you know that your birth alone will erase the lives of so many? Lives of people who will only hear of you in passing, in books, in tales of your adventures that they will soon label as conquests. You alone are destined to vanquish the stars and the earth, galaxies and solar systems¡ªVenus, the Goddess of War, your followers thousands of years from your current age will call you; the God Butcher; the Antichrist; so many names, so many innocent lives. Your soul is one I have been waiting to encounter for eons, or possibly just seconds. I want you, Ry¡¯ee, not because I loathe you, but because the grains you stand on are the lives you will affect, not only in your lifetime, but in the hundreds, thousands, and millions of years to come.¡±


    The dunes of gray sand stretched to further than the horizon, vanishing from even my eyes.


    ¡°And a soul so tender, so poignant, does not deserve to turn the gears of life so violently.¡±


    My lips drew into a thin line. The thing was still humming, harmonizing, making the sands surrounding us shimmer as if blown on by a wind I couldn''t feel. Where the hell did Witchling send me? Nothing for miles and miles except dunes of gray sand. Lives, It called them, these grains underneath me, floating around me. I had questions. So, so many burning questions. About this place. About what It was talking about. God Butcher. Goddess of War. The godsdamned Antichrist. The thing in front of me was spitting words onto my face so easily as It explained what the sands were, what each and every microscopic grain beneath me really was. Some of the grains burned bright like embers, sparking with golden light before vanishing, swallowed by the shifting sands. I shook my head, turning back to look at the thing in front of me. I didn¡¯t know how much time was passing on the outside, wherever the hell that was. No time to waste with this thing.


    But It knew my name, and probably knew more about my family than I did, so I figured that It knew what I was gonna say next. ¡°Stop talking and start making a deal with me or whatever it is that you¡¯ve got to do so that I can save those kids back there. You think I give a shit about your gibberish? You think you¡¯re the first¡­thing to tell me that I¡¯m gonna change people¡¯s lives? Of course I am. Everyone on the freaking planet is going to affect everyone else¡¯s lives at least at some point, dipshit. So shake my hand and let¡¯s get on with this, because I¡¯m hating this voodoo crap.¡±


    The harmonies stopped. We stared at each other, my hair flowing around me, Its form still flickering and twitching, as if in eternal pain. Then a sound. A sound that grew into laughter.


    My eyes narrowed. ¡°Wanna share the joke with the rest of the class?¡±


    ¡°Only two others have made me laugh, child,¡± It said, the harmony coming back slowly, steadily, and a lot softer than before. ¡°That woman who sent you to me, and the All Mother. My, my, you are more intelligent than I thought, but yet you know nothing of what it is that you have said. These are the lives connected to you. Yes, a soul, like a web, tugs on strings it cannot even begin to quantify, but yours, child, is a thread that will take with it entire galaxies of people.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, unlike the rest of my people, that kinda murder isn¡¯t my style.¡±


    ¡°No, not yet, and maybe not for this state of yourself, but there will come a time¡ª¡±


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°How many times do I have to tell you, I don¡¯t fu¡ª¡± I was on my hands and knees in an instant, gasping. It didn¡¯t feel like I¡¯d been punched, but my skull rang like I had been run over.


    ¡°Your destiny is blood, Ry¡¯ee. Your future is blood. You will do nothing but destroy, and what a shame, because you could do so much more than write your name into the stars with ash.¡±


    I struggled onto one knee, my fist pressing hard against the sands to keep me upright. ¡°You don¡¯t get to tell me what I¡¯m going to become, you hazy fuck. Only I get to ruin my life, got that?¡±


    ¡°You bleed ignorance.¡±


    ¡°And you talk bullshit.¡± I looked up at It, the worry in my gut only growing more rampant. This wasn¡¯t supposed to take this long. ¡°So that¡¯s it, you¡¯re just gonna trap me here for eternity?¡±


    It flowed around me again, through me, passing over me like a fuzzy blanket of static. ¡°To keep myself in a prison filled with your voice would be a fate worse than the one I am serving. No, child. You will perish, and what little good your soul is will be used, cleansed, and thrown into the abyss, possibly to be used once more in another lifetime, or stuck, formless, listless, joyless in the darkness for all eternity. Knowing your character, Ry¡¯ee, physical torture would be more appealing to you, would it not?¡± I didn¡¯t answer, keeping my lips shut for once, letting It continue. ¡°So you will remain in these sands until your body dissolves, and thus the countless you are destined to murder will not die. Instead, the universe will branch, shift to better plains of relative peace.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s your angle?¡± I said quietly. ¡°Some greater good crap?¡±


    ¡°I have spoken to countless heroes,¡± It said to me. ¡°You are all the same.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just supposed to believe in some shadow telling me that I¡¯m going to wipe out entire galaxies worth of people? Are you freaking nuts? Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re reading off some script.¡±


    The thing in front of me flared, making me flinch. ¡°It is your destiny, this bloodshed.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, said who?¡±


    The harmony became shrill. ¡°Time. Fate. The order of the universe and its laws.¡±


    I stood and took one step toward it, getting as close as I could get without having to listen to the shrieking melodies coming from Its being. ¡°Say that again, I dare you, about how fate and the universe are the reason I had to watch my own father get murdered in front of the entire world by his own brother.¡± Closer, fuck it¡ªthe song it sand was agony, rage, making Its form jagged and violent. ¡°I dare you to tell me why I had to listen to my own mother cry through the walls because my stupid powers decided to kick in just right then. You think I enjoyed getting beaten around, tested on, thrown onto the surfaces of burning planets, drowned in the seas of frozen moons, just because the universe said that was just how life was going to be for me?¡± I lowered my voice as I stared at It, stared hard into what might be Its eyes, but I didn¡¯t fucking care. ¡°Blow me, is what you can do with all that talk. If I¡¯m destined to kill people, it¡¯s gonna be the villains out there.¡±


    ¡°Your soul,¡± It said, Its voice resonating through my skin, bones, and through to my core, ¡°belongs to me, and me alone. You dare talk to me this way, a being beyond your understanding?¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± I said, folding my arms. ¡°But I¡¯m telling you now¡ªyou keep me here, then I¡¯ve got all eternity to understand you, and when I do, my destiny, my fate, is gonna be hurting you.¡±


    Silence prevailed for several beats, until It finally said, ¡°Trillions will die because of you.¡±


    ¡°And a dozen kids are gonna die, too, if I don¡¯t get back soon.¡±


    ¡°Your sacrifices are supposed to be noble.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Until I get my statue, that ain¡¯t happening. I¡¯ll do what I have to because I hate being told what I¡¯m supposed to do as a superhero. Everyone seems to have an idea, but they¡¯re not the ones wearing the costume and making the decisions. I am. Selfish? Self-righteous? Yeah, well, that¡¯s tough, because I didn¡¯t survive this long in my life to die with nothing but a whimper.¡±


    ¡°That is your final decision, child?¡± It asked, now quiet. ¡°To drown yourself in red?¡±


    I smiled. ¡°It¡¯s always been my color, I guess.¡±


    ¡°Astounding, the gaul of you humans.¡± An appendage broke free from Its form, a shard that grew and grew until it touched the sands beneath It. ¡°I am both entertained, though scared, of what you will do to those I beckon. I understand your thoughts, your emotions¡ªyou vow in your heart right now to make sure blood will not spill because of your name, simply because you are too proud to acknowledge the intricate cosmic threads that weave together the universe. Your ego, Daughter of Zeus, goes beyond even your Realm, and by the All Mother, is it a pain in the ass.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been told that I¡¯m an acquired taste¡ªguess we can learn from each other.¡±


    It raised the length of flickering black at its side. ¡°You wish to barter your soul? Fine. But you will not know peace in death, and there will never be rest for you in any form. I do not know what will happen in your Realm, but the grains of death you stand on will grind you to nothing. Your time will come, and you will see me then and then only, and next time will be the last.¡±


    Before I even had the chance to speak, the shard of black struck me through the right side of my chest, and a sudden ferocious explosion of heat washed through my blood, my¡­soul.


    At least, that¡¯s what I think it struck, because all I knew was that it freaking hurt.


    And this time, when I fell, I kissed the grimy concrete floor as hard as you possibly could. I choked on spit and air, on my own tongue, as I knuckled away the blood trickling out of my nose and down my lips. I immediately felt heavier, more solid, but every single dull ache and pain that I had gotten used to over the years made sure to remind me that I wasn¡¯t over there anymore, but back in a room full of old broken mannequins and husky shadows. Groaning, straining in a physical body as I got onto all fours again, felt like I was shifting the world off my shoulders. Did it work?


    I pulled at the bandages woven around my midsection. They spilled onto the floor. Nothing. Good as new, as if my stomach had never been gouged open by a supervillain before.


    The only thing that stung on my body was the new scar just above my left breast.


    It was a short lightning bolt, thick, too, just like the one I wore on my suit. It glowed a little, the same soft light that the sun in that Realm had just a moment ago, before it turned a deep black. I gingerly touched it, but it was simply a part of me, like I had gotten a tattoo. I was about to look up at Witchling to see if it had worked, and what the symbol meant, but there was nobody around me. No glowing orbs of light. No children. No supervillain staring at me with black eyes. A splatter of blood on the floor to my left. The circle of burnt tiles was shattered by a foot about as large as me.


    Cherry wasn¡¯t that big. No, he wasn¡¯t big enough to make a crater out of the floor when he walked. This had been something bigger, something that had taken every single one of the kids.


    The door on the other side of the dark room was open, swinging on its hinges, creaking in the silence. Emergency lights were flashing outside in the hallway, making the shadows blossom a harsh red. I stumbled my way there, leaning against the splintered hospital doors. The shrieking sound of an emergency siren echoed down the corridor, coming from far away. I glanced down one end: blocked off by debris, maybe from when Witchling had been protecting Knuckles and I. The other end: a pair of double doors, and a pool of blood that sat just underneath both of them.


    Shit, shit, shit. I ran my way there, and the suddenness of how fast I got to the doors nearly caught me off guard. I barely registered the first spark of golden light that jumped off my fingers as I crouched at the door and pressed my ear against it. Nothing but silence. I pushed against it slowly, but it was stuck in place¡ªsomething heavy was on the other side. I only had to push a fraction more to shove that something out of the way. My heart was already racing in my chest, but thank the Gods that the pile of body parts keeping the doors shut was just Cherry. That¡¯s what I think it was. It was difficult to tell with how much meat and flesh, organs and brain matter was splattered all over the walls and floor and dripping down from the ceiling, as if he¡¯d exploded.


    I stepped over what I could, but whoever had killed him had been very thorough.


    And also very considerate, because his arm still remained, and so did part of his torso. Just enough to keep his arm upright as it pointed down the hallway, its index finger rigid and extended.


    It didn¡¯t occur to me that Frankie could very easily be screwing with me, making me fall for something stupidly obvious, but I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the pools of blood down the hallway, and each of them was showing me the same thing: baby, my eyes were glowing gold.


    And that meant my feet didn¡¯t have to touch the floor, and nor did it mean I had to spend my time hunting for the kids in some labyrinth of a mortuary and hospital. I heard their cries, their shrieks, their heartbeats and Sam¡¯s swearing and Kit¡¯s tear-jerking pleas for me. It led me straight through one wall and then the next, worms and maggots, eyeballs and sinewy meaty walls be damned. The ground shuddered. The light fixtures hanging from the ceiling swayed the more I shot through walls and the more I came out on the other side drenched in bloody bits and pieces. The wiring in the lights wasn¡¯t even metallic, I learnt, as one fixture collapsed in front of me. They were thin human hairs, braided so tightly together it made it seem as if it looked like cable wiring.


    I had run out of patience asking all these questions today, questions about this place, about my life and, if that thing was to be believed, cosmic fate, and so, when I heard Kit scream my name¡ªnot Olympia, but my name¡ªI was already halfway through the thickest wall yet.


    I skidded to a halt on the tiles, the tiles slippery because of the blood under my feet. The room I had burst into was frigid, so cold that my breaths spilled out of my mouth like vapor. To my right was a wall of metal cabinets that climbed higher and higher the more I strained to look up at them; morgues kept dead bodies in those things, and there were thousands, tens of thousands of them packed in one single room. I could smell them, their frozen muscles and the slow, slow decay. To my left, a regular wall now with a Rylee-shaped hole in it. Behind me: one, two, three¡­all the kids, thank the Gods, were still there. Kanz¡¯s wing was broken and bleeding, hanging limply onto the floor. Some of the kids had broken arms, missing tails and gouged out antlers. All covered in blood, in fright. Kit, the smallest of them in size, clung onto Sam with her good arm. The other arm was a stub. The bleeding had only slowed because it was dousing a balled up shirt deep red.


    The room was silent, so deathly silent I swear I could hear atoms moving in the air.


    I turned. Knuckles lay in a heap on the floor, her arm twisted at a vile angle. Witchling had a shard of what looked like whittled down white bone pinning her to the wall I had just burst out of, going right through her stomach. She was still awake, gasping, clutching at the bloody shard.


    Finally, I looked at the thing¡ªyeah, another fucking thing¡ªin front of me. It took up the entire hallway, its spindly arms and legs bending it onto all fours. Its body was made from woven flesh, not like Cherry, but skin that had been stretched and pulled and braided together like a noose. Its face was large, jerking, twisting and turning to examine me. No eyes, just pits in its skull. No teeth, just a large gaping slit in its mouth. No head, just a plate of glistening white bone clinging to its thread-like body. The ends of its appendages clicked against the floor as it took a step closer.


    Something was swaying from its long, long neck¡ªa pendant holding onto a book.


    But my mind wasn¡¯t focused on that, or what it was, or the head that jerked and snapped and turned in twisted angles, or how its body was forced to break and mend over and over to drag itself forward, or the terrible, harrowing mewling noise that it made from its gullet. I was already crouched. My fists were already tight. Light flickered around my hands, burning away the dark and illuminating the kids and that god-forsaken creature¡¯s mask of a face. First of earth¡¯s trillions.


    A pause. A sighing breath.


    And it simply wasn¡¯t fast enough to avoid my fist smashing its jaw into shards of bone.


    The plate of white shattered, raining down pieces that skittered along the floor and pelted against the metal storage cabinets. I shrieked, backed away. I shot beneath it, grabbed its hind leg, got my feet onto the ground and twisted until I heard the meaty snap of its leg coming off its body. The sound that exploded from its broken maw nearly shook me to my knees. I gritted my teeth, swung the shard of leg bone into its side, making sure the serrated end gouged deep into its tissue. I rammed it into the cabinet filled wall, turning the leg, twisting it, then shredding the barbed ends along the length of its body and spilling black fluids out from its tail end right up to its throat. Like unzipping a jacket, its insides spilled out¡ªnot much except blood and goo that turned into foul paste. It slumped to the ground, a husk of itself. It was still twitching, though, so I asked the kids to do me a solid and turn around, cover their ears, and count to ten as I used my fingers to finish it.


    Who knew monsters like this had such oily layers of skin? I figured it was the fats, whatever fats it had on its body, anyway. Freaking disgusting, I thought, shaking out my hand.


    What, did you think that would take a lot longer? Gods no. Not anymore.


    Besides, it had hurt the kids¡ªit didn¡¯t deserve flashiness.


    I wiped my hands on my thighs, then grabbed the leather-bound tome off the floor. It was the same one that Frankie had been reading over me just a moment ago. That¡¯s¡­.The book, yes, that¡¯s the one, I heard Witchling say. She was still stuck in place, the barbed ends of the spindle of bone stopping her from pulling herself along without ripping apart her insides. Congratulations, you succeeded in bartering with It. Witchling was smiling despite the blood lining her teeth.


    I ignored her, flying toward the kids instead. ¡°Hey,¡± I said softly, kneeling. ¡°It¡¯s okay now, you don¡¯t have to be scared. But don¡¯t turn around just yet. I¡¯ll need you all to hold hands for me.¡±


    Kit was the first to latch onto my fingers. My heart was twisted violently in my chest as I felt how rapid her heart was beating through her fingertips. Kanz told them all to hold hands, and seemingly, he was the only voice they were going to listen to now. Once they were all holding one another, I told them to keep their eyes shut and their footsteps high. Don¡¯t open your eyes, don¡¯t stop, even if the ground is wet under your feet¡ªyou¡¯re going home now, just trust me. Promise.


    Huddled around Witchling, I said, ¡°All right, you¡¯re going to feel a bit of a jolt, but it¡¯s gonna make you feel a lot better for at least ten minutes. Make sure your tongues are inside your mouths and not next to your teeth, and¡­¡± I sent a soft pulse of golden electricity flowing through each of them. They all reacted differently, some gasping, some cursing (words I had proudly taught them), but most importantly, the relief that washed over them, loosening their shoulders and their pinched faces was what mattered most. Kanz was already helping carry Knuckles in his arms, struggling to do so, but making sure that she wasn¡¯t just a listless form on the floor again.


    I also put a bolt of electricity through her, but she didn¡¯t wake up. For a moment, Kanz¡¯s face screwed together in worry, but she was fine, I told him¡ªthe girl was just asleep for now.


    Gods knew she needed it. Ruslana wasn¡¯t too bad, I guessed. Not in Ava¡¯s pocket anymore at least, and if that didn¡¯t put a bit of joy in my heart, then I didn¡¯t really know what else would.


    After I had made sure most of the wounds were tied off and as cauterized as I could manage (kicking myself because I didn¡¯t pay attention in first aid), I was free to turn to Witchling, who was still on the wall, and still clutching onto the barbed spear. I didn¡¯t have a clue of how she was still alive with that thing in her guts, but I knew by now that I had no idea about anything.


    ¡°So,¡± I said, waving the book at her. ¡°This is what you wanted, right?¡±


    Witchling nodded weakly.


    ¡°Get the kids out of here,¡± I told her. ¡°Then I¡¯ll think about helping you.¡±


    I cannot do that without¡ª


    ¡°Don¡¯t bullshit me,¡± I said. ¡°You needed it because you wanted me to kill this thing for you, right?¡± I walked up toward her, resting my arm on the bone spindle, making her groan. ¡°You¡¯re a piece of shit, you know that? You can¡¯t teleport people properly? You really think I was gonna fall for that? I¡¯ve watched your videos on the internet, read the police reports and the SDU documents that break down what you¡¯re able to do and just how well you can do them. Someone of your caliber doesn¡¯t just fuck up a teleportation. You¡¯re an S-Grade, Witch. You put me in that position so Frankie could snag me. I didn¡¯t think of any of this because I knew you¡¯d just answer me and try to trick me into believing you. So, let¡¯s cut the crap. Snap your fingers and get the kids to a hospital, and then you and I are going to have a chat, and then I¡¯ll give you the book, okay?¡±


    Her eyes narrowed, staring at me, staring into me. I¡¯d prefer looking at the heap of body parts behind me than at her. Finally, she said, You¡¯re more well-read than I thought you were.


    I patted the javelin of bone sticking out of her. ¡°Your fault for doubting me. Now, get them to a hospital, somewhere safe, because if these kids end up getting hurt again, I¡¯ll gut you, ¡®kay?¡±


    Witchling snapped her fingers, and the group of kids, Knuckles included, vanished.


    ¡°Where are they?¡± I asked.


    Peacemaker Memorial, she replied. In the lobby of the superhuman emergency wing.


    ¡°I won¡¯t take that as gospel, but I¡¯ll have to trust you for now.¡± I handed her the book, and she clutched onto it like you would a wounded baby. ¡°What¡¯s so important about this thing?¡±


    To put it bluntly, it is an artifact older than modern civilization. It will change everything.


    ¡°For you, or for everyone in the city?¡± I said, readying to grab the book just in case.


    For the better, Witchling said, smiling. For your generation of heroes.


    Getting Witchling out of her little predicament took about two seconds, and I made sure she felt both of those seconds as I snapped the bone and pulled it out of her. I didn¡¯t know what that meant, and couldn¡¯t even begin to guess. She had plunged me into hell for this damned thing, and now she was holding it close to her chest, as if it would slow the bleeding gash in her stomach.


    It was important, anyone could figure that out¡ªbut for once, her smile wasn¡¯t thin or cold or too wide and expressive, but genuine, soft, almost hopeful. Thank you, Olympia. I owe you my life and more than even that. And even though your soul is now bound to this Realm for eternity, I hope we can meet in another life and not have to be natural enemies. A teacher and student, perhaps. Though I can guess that you were not the most obedient of students in school.


    ¡°Hold on,¡± I said. ¡°What do you mean my soul is bound here forever?¡±


    It means just that, I am afraid. There will be no rest. No heaven nor hell. Just purgatory.


    I tentatively touched the scar on my chest. ¡°What does purgatory look like?¡±


    The same as heaven and hell: unknown to me because I have never seen them.


    ¡°Right,¡± I said quietly. I nodded, then nodded again. ¡°Okay, just don¡¯t die for now. Got it. Before we leave, though, I need to go see Frankie. We have to talk about something personal.¡±


    A snap of her fingers later, and we were in the surgery room. It felt like I had been thrown forward and yanked backward in a split second. Frankie was sweeping up documents and swearing, frantically jamming everything she could into shadowy pools Wraith was holding open for her. She startled, yelped, then I shot toward her, her throat in my hand, and shoved Frankie against the wall. Witchling flicked her wrist, slamming Wraith against the metal operating table.


    ¡°What, surprised?¡± I said. Her eyes were wide, and suddenly, she wasn¡¯t as willing to be touchy with me. She reeked of fear, of sweat and panic. Her eyes couldn¡¯t focus on me for more than two seconds without glancing at the door. ¡°My costume. Where did you take my gear?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Frankie said, annoyance in her voice. ¡°You won. Congrats. Now leave me¡ª¡±


    I frowned as something caught my eye around her neck. I pulled her shirt apart, and¡­ Oh, Gods, I wanted to puke. She was wearing my freaking costume! It didn¡¯t even fit her properly!


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna puke,¡± I said. ¡°Take it off. Now.¡±


    Frankie grabbed the straps of my sports bra, tried to pull me closer but ended up pulling herself right up to my face. ¡°You think I give a shit right now? You know what¡¯s gonna happen to me if he finds me here? Fuck. I¡¯m so fucked. Rip your costume off of me. I wanted a souvenir just in case you died, something to pin up above my bed, but who cares? Not me! Not if I¡¯m dead.¡±


    She did the job for me, stripping out of her clothes and down to her underwear. I didn¡¯t even want to touch my costume as she stuffed it into my hands. Quick as a bullet, she swept her clothes off the floor, ran toward her brother, slapped him awake, and soon got swallowed whole by a tide of shadows. I glanced at Witchling, confused. She just shrugged, just as dumbfounded as I was.


    ¡°Well I guess we¡¯re done here,¡± I muttered. ¡°Now, let¡¯s get back to New Olympus.¡±

 Issue #32: What The ****

    For the past several hours, myself and my supersuit have been bombarded with enough soap to scrub Lower Olympus so clean you could eat off the concrete. I stood on the roof of the coffee shop now, a place I hadn¡¯t been in what felt like years. I didn¡¯t really mind that my suit was hanging off a useless satellite antenna, catching the breeze, because my hair was doing the same thing, and with a sweet mango smoothie in my hand, it almost made me forget about yesterday. If anyone saw, it just looked like some teenager was simply standing beside a tattered American flag, and wearing sunglasses as she looked over the city. Completely normal from afar. Human, almost.


    My suit would be dry soon, and was probably dry right now, but I needed the time up here. Music was coming from my phone, food was in my stomach and rest¡ªreal rest¡ªwas in my blood.


    The sun was sinking through the sky, now just over the waters, making it shine. The city was as noisy as ever, but sitting on the ledge, my feet dangling above the street, made it seem like I could catch my breath for a second, and hell, maybe I could just about catch the breeze and let it carry me off to wherever it wanted to. I hadn¡¯t checked in with Lucas yet, and mom had left about a billion texts and missed calls. Oh, hell, and you should have seen the look on Dennie¡¯s face when I knocked on the front door at three in the morning covered in blood. Poor guy nearly had a heart attack, what with the shotgun primed and ready in his hands. He might be old, but he knew how Lower Olympus was, especially at the dead of night. Then I ate, I slept, and thoroughly washed.


    I passed by Peacemaker Memorial just an hour ago, but the media was swarming the place. The children were famous, but the hospital was strict about its occupants being filmed. Seeing that Frankie¡¯s sweat was still clinging to my suit, I had gone as Rylee, and the guards didn¡¯t even let me get anywhere close to the doors with the rest of the herd. The hospital¡¯s windows were tinted with special reflective gloss, making them one way and impossible for superhuman reporters with x-ray vision to see through. I had to trust they were okay, and for once, I felt like maybe someone I saved would be okay. The walls of the hospital might be thick, but I swear I had heard Sam telling stories to the other kids in the hospital about how a superhero had kicked ass, with Kit excitedly helping.


    I didn¡¯t know if I was going to see them again, but I¡¯d keep tabs on them as best as I could.


    Nope, a few hours¡¯ break isn¡¯t so bad, Ry. I think you deserve it a little. I set the smoothie down beside me and leaned on my palms, letting the wind push my hair over my shoulders. The sun was warm on my face and buttery smooth against my skin. I had no other option than to soak in the bands of yellow light. A couple was on the old boardwalk not too far away, alone at the edge of the pier and whispering sweet nothings that were swept up by the wind. An old Italian guy was selling cotton candy to a kid whose mom was forced, grudgingly smiling, to pay. I had to say, Earth wasn¡¯t entirely all that bad. At least not at this moment, and I wasn¡¯t going to ruin the break I had by overthinking. Earphones in, music on. I scrolled through my missed calls and texts, then the news headlines and whatever was going on with Atomville. Canceled indefinitely. No new season.


    Maybe I should call Em and ask her how she¡¯s holding up. She¡¯d sent only one text since Witchling had booked me a ticket to hell. I hope you¡¯re okay, superhero. It was three days old now.


    But there was also Bianca and her messages. A pile up of worry and questions that had turned into voice messages sprinkled with cheesy Hang In There memes of a little cartoon Shrike hanging off the side of a skyscraper. Even now she was typing something, with the three little dots hovering at the bottom of my splintered screen. There were almost too many messages for me to reply to, and hell, where would I even start? I¡¯m sorry for making you think I died in the Kaiju attack. Anyway, lunch tomorrow? I sighed and switched off my phone, leaving it beside me.


    I would text her soon, maybe even call her if I got my act together. But there was another girl on my mind right now, and the strange feeling bubbling in my gut solidified into hatred.


    The question I had now, of course, was what came next for me and her.


    And that was simple: Avarie Rivera needed to die for my life to go on.


    I knew she couldn¡¯t technically die, but I also knew that leaving half of her body on the moon and the other half at the bottom of the Atlantic should keep her busy for a few years. I would squeeze (maybe literally, who knows) some more information out of her, run her dry, then put her aside when I was done with her. Yeah, I figured, sipping my smoothie, that I could do that in about one afternoon. That would leave me free to focus on Caesar and figure out what he wanted with my blood. Stuff, stuff, and more stuff to do. I stood up on the ledge, precariously balancing on it.


    Fall was creeping ever closer. You could see it in the leaves and feel it in the air, smell it in the softness of the wind and almost taste it in the scents coming from more food stands popping up on every street corner that sold hot chocolate at absurd prices to tourists, and I would love to have a very clean city for Christmas. This summer hadn¡¯t been great in the slightest, but I was still alive.


    And considering how close I¡¯d gotten to not making it, I was grateful for that at least.


    ¡°Jeez,¡± I muttered. ¡°You¡¯re starting to sound like one of those Earth hippies, Ry.¡±


    ¡°Nothing wrong with loving the peacefulness of this world.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess. At least the sun isn¡¯t as painful as¡­¡± I frowned and turned to look over my shoulder, expecting to see Dennie, but¡­nobody was there. I would have heard him or his walking stick ages before he even got close. I looked around once more, but I was alone with my costume. I looked down into the alley and found a homeless guy busy digging through the trash for bottles, far too occupied to give a damn about how bright the sun was and how great the wind felt. Maybe it was just downstairs in one of the other apartments, or someone on a phone call passing by.


    Whatever. I shook my head and drank my smoothie, my free hand in my pocket and my ears picking up the sounds of the new messages Bianca was sending me. She was a temptation. A habit I needed to let go of for now. I had made a deal with some creature, nearly died, crawled my way through hell and seen kids get murdered by mercenaries all in the span of a few weeks. Just when I had come back to the city, thinking I was going to take control of my life, shit hit the fan. My human side said it was normal to want a distraction, to want someone to be that distraction.


    But if I had wanted Bianca in this part of my life, then I would have told her who I really was by now. Now just wasn¡¯t a good time for me. For either of us. She had committed to Olympus U for the fall, and being a superhero was going to be my life for, well, ever. I had to be realistic about this at some point. Some minimum wage job, then save the city on my off hours, get a statue before some supervillain finally figured out how to put me in the ground (hopefully not soon), and then that would be curtains on my life. Bianca had years ahead for her. Years of life and love with someone who wouldn¡¯t have to up and leave in the middle of breakfast without a single warning.


    Vanishing during lunch back in high school had sparked enough arguments. Committing to someone on¡­that level and doing it again and again for years was shitty, even for the likes of me.


    Your girl had never been in a relationship before, and friends were the closest I was willing to let myself get with most of the humans. They freaked me out a little with their emotions, so fluid and expressive and not connected to their brains but their hearts instead. The Grand Admiral would hate this place, I thought, finishing my smoothie. The humans just ticked a little differently than the rest of the universe, but hey, I guessed they weren¡¯t all that bad if dad had fallen in love with one.


    A new message, another vibration, another ping. I glanced at the screen, seeing nothing except my reflection and the clouds burning a soft orange as they floated above my head in the sky.


    One day, B. I promise. Let me just make it safe enough for you to stay here with me.


    By here, I meant Earth! America. New Olympus. Whatever, you know what I meant.


    I yawned and stretched my arms over my head as I floated back onto the gravel littered roof. I needed to grab a few things for Dennie from the convenience store down the street before I left to visit my favorite little supervillain. When I last checked about thirty minutes after Witchling and I had gone our separate ways, the Golden Guild had been empty. Not entirely empty, but a skeleton crew was in the hallways and on the surrounding rooftops, in alleyways and in casinos, skulking around not so discreetly with their concealed weapons and hidden superpowers. Nobody of substance who had any info on where Ava was, though. But I had made sure to leave her a message. I just hoped the intestines matched the couches and the drapes. I always sucked at decor.


    The thing that chilled me the most, though, was that Cedric, O¡¯Reiley, Damsel and Ace had vanished, too. Mr. Campbell hadn¡¯t been in the Guild for a while, judging by the whimpering pleas from the mercenaries I had prodded for answers. Hunting her down with a teleporter on her team was as good as trying to find a superhero who was active back in the 80s who wasn¡¯t already dead right now. Lucas was my only option for information, and then the night shift would start.


    ¡°Here we go,¡± I muttered, tossing the empty smoothie cup into the dumpsters below. The homeless guy got startled, and I waved at him before turning to grab my supersuit off the antenna.


    I had been caught enough times without it on in the past few weeks, and in a blur, I had it under my old varsity jacket and jeans, meaning I had to stretch a little to get the uncomfortable wrinkles out. I had no idea how other superheroes walked around with an entire other layer of clothing pressed tight to their skin from morning to evening with all their sweat and bodily odor soaking into it (like a certain spider-person I knew, but I wasn¡¯t pointing any fingers), but I would rather be safe than sorry. Nobody was gonna notice it, anyway. In a city full of dirty blondes, I was just the short one with the freckles. Hell, I¡¯d seen people look more like Olympia than I did before.


    The worst instance had been stumbling across Harper doing an Olympia cosplay for her followers, which, to this day, is still haunting my dreams. Totally why I was always exhausted.


    I already had the list of things that Dennie wanted¡ªpainkillers, light bulbs, a case of beer and some sodas, and a bunch of other stuff I couldn¡¯t really care about¡ªin my pocket, so, with my hands in my pockets, I made my way down the rusted fire escape, hovering some sections, leaping most, and finally landing softly on the ground. I walked out of the alleyway into a trickle of people heading home for the night, and being Lower Olympus, most heads were bowed, and most eyes were lined with grit from working construction or at the docks, so nobody paid any attention to me. I slipped my way past them, their heartbeats synchronous in my ears, their smells and sounds noise that slowly faded deep into my surroundings. When a super silently flew through the air¡ªan Asian girl in shorts and a t-shirt, carrying a boy around the same age as her, both grinning the only way young people can during summer¡ªthe people around me flinched and glanced upward, swearing.


    ¡°Miserable, every one of them. Hunched and scared, frightened of every corner they take.¡±


    ¡°Of every sound and tremor and gust of wind.¡±


    ¡°Afraid of their own kind.¡±


    ¡°What the¡ª¡± I narrowly avoided a pot-bellied man who grumbled past me. It was that same voice I had heard on the rooftop. Whispers so clear it felt like a shard of ice in my brain.


    I had gotten pretty good at distinguishing voices in large crowds. The first few months with my superpowers on this planet had been hell because the orchestra of noise had kept me awake through countless nights, no matter the amount of sleeping pills I tried consuming. School had been impossible, more so middle school, and walking through the city might have well been asking me to have a panic attack on the spot. It was all about letting it bleed out into the silence, like lowering the volume on command, but those whispers had felt so¡­near, so close it was right in my ears.


    Maybe I¡¯m paranoid of everything now, too, I thought, continuing on. I wondered what Florida looked like around Christmas. Maybe after I was done here I could take a proper vacation.


    I walked past groups of teenagers loitering outside of a cramped diner serving half-priced Barbaria Burgers and blue Poseidon slushies that nearly made me double back, until I remembered how empty my pockets were right now. Under Grant¡¯s billboard advertising expensive hair gel to people who wouldn¡¯t use it to shine their shoes, and past a new poster showing off Velocity in new Adidas sneakers. Grant¡¯s billboard was being taken down, actually, and some kid with the ability to fly must have defaced it with spray paint, anyway. I kept wanting to look at more, at the posters on the walls, even the ones advertising Madam River and her campaign trail, but the street vendors selling off brand merchandise to tourists wouldn¡¯t let you stop and stare without getting into your face. The city had a tempo to it, a heartbeat thumping through the streets. You had to be the blood flowing through its veins and not try to clog it. Hell, follow the pavement I was on for long enough and you would reach the river splitting the city in two parts, and then it would be the fancy parts.


    And Gods, wasn¡¯t it just so perfectly normal here? I hated to be that person, but could you blame me? This time a few days ago, worms were chewing right through my calves, and I still had the tiny scars to show for it. But things just kept chugging along in this city, not any better, maybe a little worse off, but forward. Still standing. I hadn¡¯t caught up on the news yet properly, and had only caught Adam talking shit about Olympia leaving the city again to defend for itself before I had grunted and turned off the radio. The Olympiad was on some kind of slandering campaign against me for some reason, but to be fair, I had been at all the big battles in the city lately, but not as myself. Who were they to point fingers though? All they ever did was sit around and watch.


    Don¡¯t ruin your own day thinking like that, Ry. I shrugged it off and pushed open the door to the store, making the bell above me jingle. The sun was already on its way over the horizon, casting soft purple light over nearly everything in the store. The teenage girl at the counter wasn¡¯t looking so good, either. Maybe it was the lighting, or the lack of it, that was making her so pale. She was mindlessly staring at the tiny tv screen behind her, watching some old superhero flick from the times when companies used Normals dressed up like us. A string of drool was hanging from the corner of her mouth, and I had to tap and then shake her shoulder to get her attention.


    Amy, her name tag said, blinked and looked at me passively. ¡°Yeah, can I help you?¡±


    ¡°Just checking if you were still alive,¡± I said, only half-joking, but she didn¡¯t laugh, so not that great of a joke. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re alright? You look like you¡¯re gonna pass out or puke.¡±


    She shrugged and turned back to look at the tv, scratching the back of her neck vigorously, with enough force that I smelt the moment her skin slightly split and bled. ¡°I am fine, thank you.¡± She picked up the remote and changed the channel, flicking through them absentmindedly, each channel reflecting in her glossy eyes until she landed on a few days¡¯ old interview with Adam.


    I stayed for a moment longer, smelling her¡ªit wasn¡¯t as weird as it sounded¡ªand waiting to see if my nose picked up anything weird, but she just smelt sweaty, maybe a little tangy. Drugs, I figured. Something she took to numb the boredom of manning a near-empty convenience store for the better part of your spring break. She scratched her neck again, then rolled her shoulders, too. The tv was silent, the volume turned to zero. All I could make out was that Adam had the entire studio audience laughing at something, but she just continued staring at it, drool shining on her lips.


    In the dimness of the store, it was myself, Amy, and an old lady who was trying to choose between which can of beans she wanted most. Music was playing from tiny scratchy speakers, and the stink of disinfectant was all over the floor like someone had dumped it on the tiles. It took about ten minutes to get everything I needed, because I had to call Dennie over and over again to figure out what kind of beer he liked the most, whilst also avoiding the judgy look the old woman was giving me as I pulled it from the shelf. The lights flicked on, humming quietly, making everything a stark white from the floor to the ceiling, and only slightly tinted blue to dampen the shine of things.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°Hey, young lady,¡± the old woman said. I peeked around an aisle, inquisitive, but also wondering what was making her voice so harsh. ¡°Are you listening to me? I said separate bags.¡±


    Amy was leaning against the counter now, clutching a glass bottle of milk so tightly her knuckles blossomed white. Her other hand was on the metal register, her fingertips digging into it.


    The old woman kept arguing, trying to snatch the bags away from Amy to do it herself, but as soon as she got close, Amy would jerk a little, making the old woman yelp and step backward.


    Is she having an Awakening or something? She looked too old to have one, but maybe she was a late bloomer, and if that was the case, then¡­fuck, what did they teach us about it in school?


    All I knew was that it could range from a cold for a week to being in a coma for a month.


    And sometimes, like Amy, here, you shattered a glass bottle of milk so easily and so suddenly that she didn¡¯t even react to the shards of glass that sank deep into the flesh of her palm, making blood burst from her skin. Milk poured onto the floor, soaked into her tattered trousers. The old woman stepped away, smart enough to know that hey, maybe standing close to the girl holding a register in her other hand wasn¡¯t such a great idea, and she took it a step further and bolted out of the empty store, leaving behind her items. I set down the basket of groceries and the case of beers, slowly getting closer to Amy. She was breathing heavily, panting, looking even paler and swaying from side to side. Her stomach growled, and you didn¡¯t need super-hearing for the echo of her very angry and uncomfortable organs to reach your ears. She retched once, put a hand to her mouth.


    Fuck, fuck! What am I supposed to do right now? Take her outside? No, too many people, especially if she¡¯s got something explosive. Better here. Then what, Ry? Freaking fight with her?


    ¡°Hey, uh, it¡¯s alright,¡± I said, very quickly realizing I wasn¡¯t the kind of superhero great at talking people down from things. ¡°Just¡­keep breathing, and focus on me. Right, focus on¡ª¡±


    Amy retched again, and this time a foul¡ªvery, very foul¡ªsmell erupted from her mouth, but nothing else followed. Maybe her power had something to do with being able to spew gas so putrid it could kill? Not much of a winner with that. I got a little closer, but not too close. I knew that getting into their personal space was just asking for them to keep panicking, which would just make the process faster, and a lot more violent. The last thing I wanted was some poor girl¡¯s blood on my hands because I got her frightened. But she was still swallowing air, clutching at her neck, then scratching her throat and back and arms so intensely she was starting to rip through her skin.


    Forget what I said. I grabbed her gouged wrists and pinned them to the counter.


    Amy suddenly froze, blinked at me. Her eyes were bloodshot. No, blood red. The whites of her eyes swam with blood, so liquid and so much of it that it turned like water around her irises.


    Then she vomited on me, and out came a slew of thick, meaty, mangled purple tentacles.


    They splattered onto the counter, drooping from her mouth like limp appendages drenched in saliva and mucus and, oh, Gods, the smell was like something rotting and wet and old. I blinked, trying not to inhale the vomit that was on my chest and arms, and trying very, very hard not to be sick at the sight of the tentacles spilling out of her maw. Her jaw was broken, you could see the bones being forced open wider than they normally are. Then one tentacle twitched. Her blood filled eyes blinked, then looked at me, stared at me, nearly right through me. I wanted to speak, to tell her something, maybe that help was on the way? Fuck, what the hell would anyone do now?


    Amy, instead, lunged at me, vaulting over the counter and slamming her entire body weight against me. I stumbled back, caught off balance. We crashed into a sunglasses stand, which sent me sprawling onto the floor before I shoved her off and skidded onto one knee. She laid still on the ground, the tentacles coming from her mouth flapping and squelching and moving on their own. Then her body jerked as if she¡¯d just gotten electrocuted. Faster than most normals, she scrambled to her feet and charged, arms flailing and nails clawing. I caught her wrists, not really wanting to hurt her, because she technically hadn¡¯t done anything wrong. We were face-to-face now. Close enough for the tentacles to do the one thing I didn¡¯t want them to do, which was go for my face.


    They engulfed me, wrapping so tightly around my head I let go of Amy¡¯s wrists in revolt. I choked and panicked, then I was on the floor, whipping around as she jerked her head one way and then the next. I smashed into the side of the counter, then again on the floor, before she dug her fingers into the tentacles and thrusted me up into the ceiling, dousing myself in dust and smashing apart the fluorescents, making them spark and spit as Amy threw me hard into the freezers at the back of the store. I flew through the air, briefly weightless, then I came to a sudden jerking stop as soon as I hit them. The tentacles let go of me, thank fuck. I gasped and collapsed, coughing and trying desperately not to puke because of the gray saliva she coated my entire freaking head with!


    I hurriedly wiped at my face and my eyes and stumbled onto my feet, tripping only a little because of the soda cans underneath me. My sneakers crunched on glass, and so did Amy¡¯s as she limped down the aisle. The lights were flickering, casting shadows in explosive bursts. She dragged the appendages along the floor, her eyes wide and full, almost too alert. I didn¡¯t know if I should raise my fists or keep them low and try to talk things through with her somehow. Closer, shuffling and stumbling, tentacles shuddering, clenching and unclenching and excreting that gooey gray saliva that was slowly dissolving her t-shirt and jeans, her shoes and the groceries spilled all over the floor. Something was wriggling around her body, shifting like a growth of worms under her skin. I swallowed bile, glanced at the store windows and saw nothing except my reflection.


    The cameras in the store were on, too. Whoever would see this would know I had super strength at least, but I couldn¡¯t slip out of my clothes. I¡¯m not planning on killing her, anyway.


    Amy wasn¡¯t on the same wave. She lunged for me, and I threw myself to the right, rolled, and watched as she slammed into the freezers. I grabbed a can of beans and threw it as hard as I could at her head, which meant it was hard enough to knock her off balance, but she slipped at the last moment and the can grazed along the side of her forehead, slicing it open. I swore as blood gushed down the side of her face and drenched her hair. But it didn¡¯t matter. She ran at me again, then caught my ankle before I could bolt with one of those gangly tentacles. Pain shot through my leg as she jerked me back, then swung me around and back into the side of the metal freezers.


    Then she threw me, and threw me really fucking hard across the store.


    I careened right through the counter and into the wall, my face biting into the red bricks.


    Groaning and shaking my head, letting dust fall from my hair, I glanced over my shoulder. I wanted so, so deeply to be angry, to get this over with, but Gods, she hadn¡¯t done anything wrong.


    I killed supervillains, not random people who turned into¡­that.


    She didn¡¯t give a damn about that, not as she charged me, wailing a hellish sound.


    What happened next was an honest to the Gods mistake. I wanted to tackle her, to put her onto the floor and choke her unconscious long enough for me to get the chance to call the SDU.


    Instead, I kinda went right through her torso, ripping her in two.


    She splattered onto the floor, her organs gushing out of her body as if I had grabbed her stomach and squeezed it like a wet towel until everything gushed out. I swore, swore again and stood up, hands in my hair and panic in my stomach because I was covered in parts of her guts and muscles and my hair was dusted with spinal and rib cage fragments, and I couldn¡¯t help but double over and puke a little in surprise and foul disgust. I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand and stared at the shiny red wet gleam running down my jacket¡¯s sleeve. Amy reeked. I knew what dead bodies smelt like, but not like this. She smelt freaking sweet, like I had my nose in a honey jar.


    ¡°Oh, Gods,¡± I whispered. ¡°Oh, Gods. Oh, crap, what the hell? Why¡¯d you die so easily?¡±


    I didn¡¯t know, all right? I figured she wouldn¡¯t be so¡­soft, so pudgy on the inside.


    Okay, okay, I just had to put her two parts back together, and then call somebody. Lucas, he¡¯d know what to do, he¡¯d understand, but this was a mistake that I had made. A girl was dead.


    In the half second it took for me to switch off the sparking lights, lock the door, and flip the sign over to closed, I had also dragged her body back together. I stood over her, then crouched, massaging my temples and trying to think of some way I was going to explain this to the police. Did she count as a Kaiju? Since when did people suddenly turn into them? It wasn¡¯t my fault that she attacked me, and it also wasn¡¯t my fault that she looked tougher than she actually was. The entire store was destroyed. The ceiling was falling apart behind me, and the shelves were scattered and broken into bits and pieces sprinkled along a floor covered with vomit, blood, and gray gruel.


    ¡°Fuck, Ry. Fuck.¡± I pushed the hair out of my face and looked at Amy, at the limp purple tentacles and the organs she still had that were pressing against her chest and lower body, like¡­


    ¡­what the hell?


    I backed away, and my mouth sealed shut, as those tiny things I had seen crawling around just underneath her skin spilled out from both sides of her torso. Like tiny worms, they wriggled and frantically curled around each other in one large clump along the torn flesh. I stared at her, disgust in my throat, my saliva bitter, as they dragged her body back together. When the two parts of Amy met and mended, the worms dissolved into her skin, making it look like she was kept together by flesh-colored wire mesh. Sick. I felt sick. Wanted to leave, to not look back and get on with trying to find Ava, but my skin itched, and my stomach was only dropping lower in my body. She looked like tiny fingers were knitted together along her midsection, forcing Amy together.


    Her eyes snapped open, and this time, I was working on autopilot, on instinct, hell, on the fear of not knowing what to do or how to react to something like that, as the tentacles, now thin, barbed, bristling with tiny shards of glass that had embedded themselves into their meat, shot at me.


    My conscience told me not to do it, but my hands were already on them, twisting her around, and sending her flying through the air and smashing through the large glass windows. It was reflex, not knowing what to do. I followed my gut, and that¡¯s what happened, and now she was a crumbled mess of broken limbs on the street that was jerking and spasming, and Gods, why was she still alive? One of her arms had been lacerated, and stringy bits of flesh kept it connected to her shoulder. Her torso had a gash running from her throat to her spine, spilling blood and goo on the street. I gingerly stepped outside, watching with everyone else on the street who got their phones out or sent it packing as they ran away screaming at the sight of those worms patching her back together. Now her arm was longer, more limp, held by cream-colored worms that moved and slithered and let people see how the muscles of a shoulder worked as Amy staggered to her feet.


    Under the dim street lights, she looked horrific, covered in blood, her mouth oozing tentacles that lurched and grew and forced against the thick walls of her throat, almost making it rip apart right in front of us. Amy screamed, and this wasn¡¯t some animal¡ªit was her, a girl¡¯s scream.


    The tentacles in her mouth rose around her, flaring to their full length, rising and rising.


    Then a car came barreling down the street, the driver a girl on her phone. She looked up just in time to catch the moment Amy¡¯s head snapped around, her blood-filled eyes shining in the car¡¯s headlights, and then the front end of her car cut Amy clean in two again. The girl slammed on the breaks, making the car swerve to a juddering halt until it stalled out on the street. The crowd made a collective groan at the sight of the gory skidmark Amy left across the hood of the car and the roof. Her upper body was laid out on the street, and her lower half was firmly hooked to the pointed Mercedes badge at the front of it. The girl screamed and swore, tumbling quickly out of the car, her green eyes wide, her mouth hanging open as she looked at the corpse spread on the street.


    ¡°Wait a second,¡± she said. Her heartbeat was getting slower by the second. I walked a little closer, panting, feeling sick to my core as the girl gingerly walked over to Amy¡¯s top half and nudged it with her shoe. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s just a Kaiju. Thank God. I thought I just murdered someone.¡±


    ¡°You literally just did!¡± I said, crouching next to Amy, not knowing what to do, but it felt appropriate, because people were still filming, taking pictures, their cameras shining like blinding tiny white eyes as they babbled amongst each other. ¡°So what if she was a Kiaju? She was¡ª¡±


    She put her hands on her hips, annoyed. ¡°They¡¯re animals. It¡¯s like hitting a deer. Daddy¡¯s gonna kill me for denting the Merc, but that¡¯s what I get for cutting through the poor side of town.¡±


    I blinked at her in disbelief, because a couple of other people nodded and shrugged, too.


    Gesturing toward the store, I said, ¡°She was working right there, totally normal. Like you.¡±


    She snorted. ¡°Me? Work in a convenience store? Right. Anyway, one less thing around.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck is your godsdamned problem?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re one to talk,¡± someone in the crowd said. ¡°I saw you throw her onto the street.¡±


    ¡°She attacked me first!¡±


    ¡°So you technically also killed her then. You¡¯re an accessory to murder, if you¡¯re so mad about it,¡± a woman said, not filming, but wearing a pencil gray skirt and glasses. ¡°Fifteen years.¡±


    The girl with the hands on her hips said, ¡°Who cares, anyway? You can find ¡®em everywhere. They¡¯re, like, on sale or whatever. I shouldn¡¯t even be out here without my mask.¡±


    Now that she mentioned it, most of the crowd had surgical masks on. Thinking back to it, Amy had a mask on the counter, too. What the hell had I missed? People wore them around Lower Olympus sometimes because you never knew what supervillain would be trying to pump poison into the wind, or simply because the collection of rotting garbage that gathered on the streets and the alleyways would nearly choke you to death if you weren¡¯t careful with where you walked.


    But right now, everyone was wearing a mask, like some deathly virus was going around.


    ¡°You probably shouldn¡¯t touch that,¡± the girl said. ¡°Unless you want to turn into one.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I whispered, my head buzzing, trying to figure out why this was normal to all of these people. ¡°You can¡¯t turn into a Kaiju by just touching one, smartass. Doesn¡¯t work like that.¡±


    The crowd was even giving me a wide berth, nevermind Amy¡¯s limp corpse.


    Something had happened when I left. Something Kaiju related, and¡­of course, just another thing I was going to have to deal with, because it was a problem that was getting a little too big for what it usually was. And on the other hand, hell, most of the Kaiju weren¡¯t bad, just a few.


    But¡­ ¡°This was someone¡¯s freaking daughter,¡± I said to her quietly. ¡°Someone¡¯s kid.¡±


    The girl snorted and turned on her heels¡ªher literal heels, shiny and red¡ªand started walking back to her car. ¡°I freaking doubt it. Who¡¯d want to keep a Kaiju for a kid? Gross.¡±


    In just a few minutes, the street started to empty, and a couple of guys wearing thick construction gloves dragged Amy¡¯s lower half off the girl¡¯s car for a quick buck. They dumped Amy in an alley beside the store, whistled at the damage inside of it, and went on with their day, because why should they care? They had families to get back to, kids to tuck into bed, and charity wasn¡¯t going to pay them for fixing up the place. And all I could really do was take the woman¡¯s card¡ªthe chick with the nasal voices, pencil skirt, and thin glasses¡ªas she left. ¡°Just in case you get in any legal troubles, I deal with anything¡ªif you need a dead person sued, I¡¯d make the family sell the coffin if need be,¡± she had told me. I was too numb to not take her card and nod.


    I stood in the alley, looking at Amy. One half slumped against one wall, the other against a dumpster, like she was garbage that had just been thrown out for the night. A rat skittered up to her gut and sniffed it, then vanished back into the dark. Cars passed behind me, illuminating the streets in flashes of yellow and white, all of it just about grazing Amy¡¯s torn flesh and mottled tentacles. The city had a heartbeat, a bloodstream, a pulse, and anything that clogged it was a virus destined to be tossed away, I guessed, and these people didn¡¯t even really care to glance into the alleyway.


    I felt like I was losing my mind, or maybe going soft, because I wouldn¡¯t have either at the start of summer, just a few weeks ago. Just another body, just someone a little down on their luck.


    Oh well, right? Tough luck, maybe you¡¯ll get a better chance at it next time.


    Was the city that fucked up now? This was normal?


    But I figured I wasn¡¯t one to talk.


    If you¡¯d just been better, not followed the instincts they taught you¡­


    Gods, Ry. What are you?


    Found her phone about ten minutes later digging through her handbag. I avoided anything personal¡ªher wallet, pictures, nothing to make her stick to my mind¡ªand¡­didn¡¯t know who to call now. I decided on the police, because Gods knew that Damage Control wouldn¡¯t give a crap without Amy being on their premium plan for such a small problem. I left an anonymous call about finding a body in an alley, yeah, a Kaiju, and I immediately heard the hesitation in the woman¡¯s voice before telling me a unit was on their way, but it would take a while, you know? It was the roads, they were terrible, and there weren¡¯t that many cops in my area, either, and I just had to understand that these things happened sometimes. Don¡¯t worry. Just sit tight. Thanks for doing the right thing. I did wait ten minutes, then twenty, then left the body in front of the NOPD building.


    I needed that update from Lucas, and now.

 Issue #33: A History Lesson About The Future

    I couldn¡¯t remember the last time that I had felt so angry for a Kaiju. On one hand, the girl with the Mercedes had been right about Amy not having a family. Call it wrong, but I used her fingerprint to unlock her phone, and proceeded to scroll through her contacts and her call logs, trying to find someone who would want to know about Amy, or anyone I could question very gently about her to figure out what might have happened in her life to cause this, if there even was a reason why a person would just turn into a feral Kaiju suddenly. Nobody. Freaking nobody. She had broken up with her girlfriend a month ago and was talking to a boy who replied hours later. Her mom, when I tried calling her, dryly told me not to call her again, and promptly blocked Amy¡¯s phone number.


    Her wallpaper was of her with a parrot sitting on her shoulder, but even despite the lighting in the picture, despite the filter, her eyes still looked so distant and hollow and just so¡­hopeless.


    I didn¡¯t know Amy, and the last thing I wanted was to give a dead person faux emotions.


    But she was miserable, judging by everything I found on her phone. No friends, a bank account that made me look like a millionaire, and just about nothing keeping her around except for an AA group she was going to every other Thursday that she had missed for a few weeks. I called the AA line I found in a group chat labeled Anonymous Aliens, and finally got someone on the other end who wouldn¡¯t either swear at me, snort at me, or simply not bother picking up. I made my voice as deep as I could, putting on a Lower Olympus accent, the kind that blunted their words and elongated their vowels, masking who I really was. But having that talk with a guy I didn¡¯t know felt like getting punched in the stomach repeatedly, because he wanted to listen to how Amy was found, where she was now. Fuck, I wish I could have called her earlier. I¡¯ll go be with her.


    I told him the police station, gave him the exact address, and cut the call. I stayed in the air for about ten minutes, staring down at the body on the stairs leading up to the precinct, waiting for someone to come out and do the right thing. The gray goo had even begun dissolving parts of her body, turning her chest into pasty viscera. It took a little longer for an officer to come outside, swear, and go rushing back inside to get other police and body bags, cautionary yellow tape and cameras ready to take pictures. The man on the phone had said Amy didn¡¯t have anyone in New Olympus. She was from Texas, moved here, something about a falling out with her old man, her family, then life had just gotten rougher and rougher. Nothing much else. She was closed off, too shy, too afraid to talk to people. I just didn¡¯t know her. We get so many kids who take months to open up. Amy just wasn¡¯t ready yet. I didn¡¯t stay long enough to see if the man made good on his promise of coming to see Amy. I felt like doing something about it would be more of a service.


    Feeling like this was new to me, and it made me feel weird. A part of me hated it, feeling shitty for some human I didn¡¯t know. It was thirty minutes in that store. Barely five outside of it.


    I didn¡¯t even know her last name, or what she really looked like. She was just a human.


    Shouldn¡¯t I be out there fighting villains? Threatening and frightening them? Killing them?


    So why was I flying through the air, threading my way around skyscrapers, for a stranger?


    For a human?


    ¡°Empathy is strange, isn¡¯t it? Foreign to something not from a warm planet.¡±


    And it wasn¡¯t the time for the voices in my head to start pitching in their thoughts, either.


    The only reason I left her body at the police station was because I felt that the world needed to see it. Somebody was always lurking around the precinct and its various branches, a camera in hand because they wanted their big break, or maybe just because they were the kinds of people who liked uploading pictures onto the internet about the police not doing much of anything in New Olympus. It didn¡¯t matter, not really. I figured that people needed to ask questions, to feel sick about seeing Amy and even worse that something like that could even happen. The Olympiad wouldn¡¯t have let the world so much as hear a whisper of her name, and Zeus knows that the SDU would rather bury the body and burn the shovel than let the public get a hands on look of such.


    Was it the right thing to do? I didn¡¯t know. My body was full of guilt, my veins icy with the stuff as I silently cut through the haze of light sitting in the blurry city air. Just as long as the humans see her face, then fine by me. I didn¡¯t like the Kaiju as much as anyone, but¡­come on, what the fuck was that? I shook my head, not wanting to let myself get sucked in too much by my own thoughts. Maybe the Kaiju just needed some help. Someone who would try to figure out what happened to Amy, someone to just have their back sometimes and¡ªI couldn¡¯t believe I was saying this¡ªhave an arm around their shoulder, or whatever. Maybe I¡¯ve got a concussion or something.


    I had missed too much, it felt. All I needed was to find out more about what was going on with the Kaiju and why people were treating them worse than before. The truth was that I would simply never know everything going on in this city. Millions of people live here now. Countless interactions every single day. New tragedies that only three people will ever know about, and some heroic feat that¡¯ll go down in history to groups of people I¡¯ll simply never hear anything about.


    But if there was one thing I was good at, it was being stubborn about getting something done. Lucas would know something about Normals turning into Kaiju, however weird that was.


    And if he didn¡¯t know, then I¡¯m sure Paul Macey would be willing to answer some questions if I knocked on his penthouse door. That, or I could storm the Olympiad for answers.


    At this point in my life, it would just be a lot easier to demand answers than try to worm my way through politics and back alley conversations. If I was ever going to be any good at that, then my superpowers wouldn¡¯t boil down to me having to hit someone hard enough to stop them from screwing with me repeatedly. So if nobody knew what was going on, add that to the laundry list of things I still needed to do, just under all my leads, Caesar, my stolen blood, and whatever the hell yesterday had been. Maybe a part of me was avoiding dealing with certain things in my life, and this was how I was coping. I was stressed out and tired. Exhausted. I¡¯d had an ache in my upper back for the past few weeks that wouldn¡¯t leave no matter how many times I rolled my shoulders.


    Gods knew when the last time I had a full night worth of sleep had been.


    But a good superhero keeps superheroing, no matter the aches, or whatever.


    The Superhuman Defence Unit headquarters was a blight, there simply wasn¡¯t any other way to put it. You have all these shiny skyscrapers and quaint brown brick buildings, some older than the Olympians and even older than Peacemaker, and some so new that it would probably be tomorrow when they finally opened their doors. Then you turned the corner and several blocks worth of the city (on the edge of it, at least they had the decency for that) would be consumed by reinforced concrete. Where the Olympiad, no matter the towering black skyscraper right in the middle of it, had tried to at least keep some of the old school temple look of its exterior, the SDU had modernized a hell of a lot after dad and Titan went to town on each other right here in the city.


    It was very nearly a military base nestled in the woods near the edge of everything, close enough to the waters to have some of their armored boats on their own private docking, but deep enough inside of the vegetation to have a sweeping circular area filled with all kinds of aircraft. Of course, they usually kept some of their stuff around New Olympus for faster deployment, but their main headquarters spanned most of the forest, and who knew how many animals and people had accidentally wandered onto government land before suddenly coming across a drone that very kindly, and very thoroughly, told them to leave. The base itself was a long strip of white and gray cement, black windows that even I couldn¡¯t see through, and dozens of floors that went deep underground. Sometimes for their sake, sometimes for making sure civilians had somewhere to hide just in case a Titan-scale incident ever happened again, but mostly because, when you¡¯re torturing an S-Grade for information, you don¡¯t want them freaking out and using their powers.


    Oh, and that torturing superhumans part? You didn¡¯t hear that from me.


    If there were people who knew something, it would be these people. The Olympiad might as well be a clown circus where they kept the government agents who could fly and shoot lasers.


    And considering I had been allowed in here a lot more than there, I was a little biased.


    I circled over the base once and then twice, making sure their radars and scanners would pick me up before I landed near their very heavily modified F-22s and 35s. It was a running stop, which didn¡¯t startle the group of guys who were busy underneath a wing they were taking apart. One of them glanced at me, went back to his work, paused, and under the bright white lights of the air strip, stared me dead in the eyes like he¡¯d just seen a ghost. He lowered his arms, wrench still in hand, and so did the other mechanics around him. We stared at each other for a good few seconds, and, unsure of what I should do, indicated the main building with a jerk of my thumb, and walked onward without a word. I¡¯d been here enough times to know not to provoke these people at all.


    I knew in my heart they wouldn¡¯t be scared of me, either. They actively went looking for S-Grades around the States, hunting them down as if they wanted to collect their bounties, even though the government and the DPIA were very adamant that these people were protectors and not murderers. Some of the jets even had little cape markings carved into their noses, several of them struck out on some of the more worn down fighter jets. The only problem right now was that every single pilot, mechanic, and groundsman I passed was staring directly at me, stopping dead what they were doing. Me and the airforce went way back, too, ever since some sixteen year old girl had accidentally totalled one of their F-22s down in Nebraska, but this felt¡­different. Cold. Hostile.


    Lucas would usually have been here waiting for me near the airstrip, because the higher ups would have a problem with me actually being inside of the base for long periods of time.


    All I could do now was stand near a row of enormous warehouses under glaring spotlights, being stared at as if I was some kind of alien. Was it something I had done? What did I miss?


    ¡°Olympia,¡± a woman said. I turned and saw a strong-jawed and straight black-haired woman striding across the tarmac from one of the warehouses. Like Lucas, she wasn¡¯t in fatigues, but in a suit with a black coat on her shoulders. She stopped about fifty meters away from me, the men around her priming rifles that¡­wait a minute, I had seen those rifles before. Hell, they had sent me flying through half the city just a few weeks ago. When the hell did they get those?!


    I put my hands up, making sure I didn¡¯t look like too much of a threat. Drones were silently hovering somewhere above me, cloaked by tech I didn¡¯t understand and the darkness of night.


    ¡°Special Agent Bowers,¡± she said, flashing me a badge she pulled out of her pocket. Gods, she was so spick and span it made Lucas look like a deadbeat who stumbled his way into work every morning half-drunk. No offense, of course. ¡°And I have to request that you don¡¯t take another step either forward, backward, or in any other direction if you want this to go smoothly.¡±


    I laughed a little dryly, maybe nervously, because the ominous thrum of those rifles, the sight of their silent golden light, had me on edge. Who gave them those weapons? How did they even get their hands on them? I glanced around, but I didn¡¯t see anyone else with them, but¡­was that what they were doing with some of the aircraft? It wasn¡¯t unusual for me not to recognize some fighter jet they had cloaked in black and crammed deep inside of a warehouse, but some of them looked new, and had turrets that didn¡¯t look like they either fired armor (and sometimes skin) piercing missiles, or shrieking sound waves for those of us with super hearing, but beams of light.


    The same beams of light that could very well make this night go from terrible to horrible.


    ¡°I, uh, came here in peace,¡± I said, raising my voice for her to hear. ¡°I need to talk to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Special Agent Freeman, yes, we know,¡± she said curtly. Her brown eyes were intense, cutting the distance between us without even trying. ¡°And that¡¯s unfortunate, because we have clearance from the United States government, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Congress, and you bet your mother nearly half the population on our soil to take you into custody if you breach our policies.¡±


    Gods above, I¡¯m gone for a week and this freaking happens? ¡°Listen, I know I¡¯ve screwed up in the past, but if you could just do me a solid this one time and let me by, that¡¯ll be great.¡±


    Very icily, and very clearly, she asked, ¡°Are you breaching our new state of law, ma¡¯am?¡±


    ¡°And what exactly is this new state of law?¡± I asked. Some of the soldiers surrounding her had heartbeats banging against their chests. The air crews had cleared out, leaving just us few.


    ¡°You are familiar with the Black Capes Act, yes?¡±


    I nodded slowly, inching away. Where was Lucas?


    ¡°All beings who possess abilities beyond the capabilities of man will be seen as hostiles, as well as threats to their community, society, and our nation as a whole, if acting independently,¡± Bowers said. Her tie flapped over her shoulder, and her coat snapped in the cold wind. She was as pale as the dry concrete underneath my boots in this lighting. ¡°But I¡¯m guessing you already know this, but considering your disappearance over the past week, and your behavioral profile that we¡¯ve accumulated, you¡¯re not inclined on learning that the act was just recently changed and modified to ensure the further safety of our nation. Simply put, do you or do you not identify as an American?¡±


    I felt like that was a loaded question, a little too personal, and if we were talking about matters of national security, then I decided to keep my mouth shut for her sake. And the last time I checked, I was the one who kept at least some of this nation secure. I was a political deterrent, from what I knew. Like some nuclear warhead for the government to name drop every once in a while as if I was their attack drone. I had a hard time listening to anyone, let alone a group of humans who thought they could tell me what to do and how, so being made into their little toy wouldn¡¯t happen any time soon. What Bowers was saying just didn¡¯t make any sense to me then. Had they really changed their anti-superhero law because of me¡­being a superhero sometimes?


    And all of this happened as I was dealing with things I still didn¡¯t understand, with people I didn¡¯t understand, either. Of course. Maybe I did have to start paying more attention to more than just the supervillains, because the longer I remained quiet, the longer that Bowers glared at me.


    ¡°I just want Lucas,¡± I said to her. The boys around her leveled their rifles. ¡°Just for a sec.¡±


    ¡°I have orders to take you in for questioning and possibly trial,¡± she said, eyes sharpening. ¡°The world wants you to answer for what you¡¯ve done, and to know who exactly you stand with.¡±


    Are you freaking kidding me right now? ¡°Listen, lady. I¡¯ve got thing to do tonight¡ª¡±


    ¡°And you won¡¯t make it a meter into the air before we shoot you down and bag you.¡±


    I stared at her, listening to the hardness in her voice. No hate in Bowers¡¯ tone, just a statement of fact, like they¡¯d all practiced this. ¡°There are people turning into Kaiju right now.¡±


    ¡°I need you to listen very clearly and come with me. I would prefer not to have to harm a teenager, but I¡¯m afraid, by law, that you should be dealt with like any other national threat.¡±


    My normal reaction right now would be to threaten her, but doing that to a government agent wasn¡¯t smart, I knew that much. Those rifles were tracking me. The drones above me were watching me, recording me, learning and analyzing. I could give them what they wanted and act out in the way they probably thought I would. But these were good people, people that the world, however messed up the SDU might be behind closed doors and on foreign soil, needed, and it also felt like I was having to convince myself that these people weren¡¯t nuts. All I needed was Lucas, answers, a sit down and one of his stupid pep talks and jibes because I hadn¡¯t been around lately, but his phone hadn¡¯t gone through, and his apartment had been empty. There wasn¡¯t any other place I could go for answers. This wasn¡¯t something I could just search on the internet right now.


    It was also something that made me question why I was doing this just for a human.


    I sighed through my teeth. ¡°If I come with you, you do know that I can leave whenever I want to, right? A couple of inches of concrete isn¡¯t going to stop me for a second, you know that.¡±


    She raised a thin eyebrow. ¡°Is that a threat to our lives?¡±


    ¡°More like a warning if you don¡¯t give me something in return,¡± I said. ¡°This is a talk, and nothing more. A play date, if you¡¯re gonna warm me up with some food, because I¡¯ve got things to do tonight that can¡¯t wait, and answers I need, so if I come with you, I need something in return, and if you want an answer of if I really am American, then I¡¯ll also give you that if you talk to me.¡±


    ¡°Destruction of government property, refusing arrest, personnel harm, violation of law¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just arrest me already, dude,¡± I said, ¡°so we can get this over with. But when I do leave, which I will, tell your bosses that I don¡¯t care, and don¡¯t take it too harshly. It¡¯s not your fault.¡±


    Bowers¡¯ eyes narrowed. We waited, staring at each other, rifles primed, and my hands still in front of me, not sparking or glowing, but splayed out. My guess was that someone more important than her was in that little earpiece of hers, telling her what to do right now. It would, by my guess, also be the person who would want to question me first before trying to hand me over to the government, which just wasn¡¯t something I wanted to do tonight. Maybe some other time when the city wasn¡¯t being held together by spit and tape I¡¯d sit down with the people who wanted to rip the lightning bolt off my chest, but not now, not soon. Come on, already. All I needed was a few answers, one of them knowing where Lucas had gone off to, and then I¡¯d be on my way and out of their hair so they could continue putting those rifles onto their jets and in their soldier¡¯s arms.


    Finally, the woman jerked her head, indicating for me to follow her, so I did as asked.


    This wasn¡¯t the first time I was in an interrogation room, but it was the first for Olympia. The walk had been silent and long, spiraling down corridors and hallways that looked exactly the same until we reached floor levels that were leveled Subterranean Level One and so on. No flying, they said, not wanting to hear a word out of my mouth either, and eventually, Bowers led me into a room that didn¡¯t look any different than the police one I had been inside of before. A one way mirror on the opposite side of the room, a thick slab of shiny metal in the center, and one steel chair. After she shut the door and I heard a silent hiss as it sealed itself air tight, I was left alone near the table.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    They had put cuffs on me, the kind that supposedly dampened powers, but I doubted that was true. I figured it was just an excuse for the government to force your hands into fists so tight that your fingernails dug into the meat of your palm until it hurt. I could leave at any time, I knew, fly right through their ceilings and floors and get on with my night, but a camera was watching me, its little red dot blinking continuously. Every sound and movement I made was being stored away somewhere for later, filling up their files on me. Good luck with that. My eyes were glowing, and naturally, my body was larger, stronger, and that was the most they would be getting from me.


    And soon enough, after pacing the room, sitting on the table, counting the seconds and trying to scratch an itch on the bridge of my nose without touching the cuffs, the door opened.


    A long and pressurized hiss, a thunderous groaning of metal, and finally it dragged itself aside as a man with brown skin and salt and pepper hair let himself in. He was tall, domineering, you could just feel it in the way he looked down at me as he caught me trying to get rid of the itch, as if he was looking at some insect skittering around his shoes. He wore a blue scarf, a navy blue suit, had tinted blue sunglasses over his eyes, and smelt of¡­nothing. I couldn¡¯t hear his heartbeat properly, either, as if it were being muffled by his clothes. I stood up, only a little bit wary of him.


    With his hands behind his back, he walked toward the table and stopped in front of it, then indicated the seat on the other side. It felt like I was back in high school getting detention again.


    ¡°The cuffs,¡± he said, and my Gods, his voice was so clear it felt like the ones I¡¯d been hearing in my head lately. ¡°You¡¯ve decided to keep them on your hands for almost an hour.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Felt like I¡¯d hurt someone¡¯s feelings if I broke them.¡±


    He didn¡¯t smile and nor did his face twitch, leaving my words flat in the air between us. All I could see of his eyes was my reflection in his glasses. ¡°I think there¡¯s no reason for pleasantries, because we know who you are, how you talk, your mannerisms and your quirks. I know that your foot is tapping not because you¡¯re nervous, but because you hate sitting in one place. Your mouth is dry because you are nervous, and you¡¯re sweating underneath that supersuit, wondering what exactly it is that I¡¯m doing here. You wrack your brain for answers and clues, your nose is twitching, trying to locate smells, and right there, your eyes flick to my neck and my pores, trying to see any traces of nerves on my part. You¡¯re a being of immense power. A nuclear arsenal¡±¡ªjust wanted to say that I told you so¡ª¡°that is rather unfortunately being piloted by a girl two years past being allowed to get her license. If you wanted to remove the cuffs, you would have, but a part of you enjoys playing this game with us, just to make us feel safe. You pretend you don¡¯t care about humans, but my goodness, the act can only go on for so much longer, Olympia. Am I correct?¡±


    No, I didn¡¯t swallow saliva, and neither did I stop moving my foot. ¡°Please, I don¡¯t like humans. I do this gig because I¡¯ve got nothing else going on for me right now. It¡¯s spring break.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a social reject.¡±


    That¡­stung. ¡°I¡¯ve got plenty of friends.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯ll never know what you are. The same friends who you schooled with, laughed with, went on trips with and shopped at the mall with, will simply never know what makes you¡­you.¡±


    A pit was forming in my gut. He hadn¡¯t moved. Couldn¡¯t even hear him blink. The people on the other side of the one way mirror were louder. ¡°I¡¯m not the insecure kinda teen hero, dude.¡±


    ¡°But what you are is an experiment that your own people spat on and made an outcast out of as soon as they had the chance,¡± the man said quietly, and this time, I did stop moving entirely. ¡°Your body is worth trillions of dollars to us humans in the right hands, did you know that?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not liking where this is going, so you better stop beating around the bush.¡±


    ¡°Do you know why superhumans had such little involvement in World War Two?¡±


    Great, a history lesson. ¡°I said not to beat around the bush. I came here for something important. There are people in the city who are turning into Kaiju, but nobody seems to care.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s because, at that time, you were all considered assets. You were more valuable fighting a proxy war on television, standing alongside the president and the troops, flying with our bombers but not stepping a single foot in Europe. There were people who wanted to use you. Of course, why would you not want to have men and women who could render entire battalions deceased in the time it took for a phone call back home to say that entire countries have fallen? But they all refused it. The Axis, the Allies, everyone, because we knew it would be a gateway into something that would change the world forever. Criminal, isn¡¯t it, that we were so willing to kill each other tooth and nail, and shake bloody hands underneath tables. Naturally, countries like Russia and ourselves held greater advantages. A larger population means a greater likelihood of superhumans being present. One in roughly one hundred is the unofficial guess. The numbers tend to vary.¡±


    I stared at him for a moment, then said, ¡°So you wanted to keep us as circus monkeys.¡±


    ¡°A crude way of putting it, yes, but I can¡¯t fault you.¡±


    ¡°Just because you were too scared of what would happen if you put us in uniform?¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t experienced what it¡¯s like to be crawling through mud, excrement, blood and the remains of your cohort simply because a young man¡¯s powers Awakened in a high pressure situation.¡± His voice didn¡¯t rise or fall. It remained flat, deadpan, as if he was reading me a grocery list instead of telling me about how awful digging yourself out of a pit filled with string meat and wet mud and red sludge was. ¡°The boys wouldn¡¯t have fought the way they needed to, and we wouldn¡¯t have won in the way we intended to. If our flag had been buried into the remains of each city we claimed by a glowing hand instead of a bleeding one, then what would that mean for us?¡±


    ¡°And by us,¡± I said quietly, ¡°you mean the Normals, everyone else on the planet.¡±


    He nodded, a short movement of his head. ¡°And although a certain man across the oceans would have wanted a new world with certain specimens in charge, that wasn¡¯t going to happen. The fallout for us humans would have been too great. Quite frankly, it was fear that made us win that war, and it¡¯s fear that¡¯ll make us win the wars that are to come and the wars we have no clue about yet. The SDU was created for such purposes. We were the branch of the government that, unlike our many brothers and sisters, did not hide, nor did we cower, but we murdered. That¡¯s the truth. Humans outnumber Superhumans in droves, and each Super is claimed by only one ability, minus those whose powers are of no use¡ªthe ability to conjure soap bubbles, to hold their breath for hours on end¡ªthen that number is significantly smaller. The truth is, we won that war before it began, but then something changed, but that¡¯s the wrong way of putting it: we found change.¡±


    I shook my head slowly, only slightly confused and uncomfortable on the chair. ¡°Explain to me again why you¡¯re dumping all of this on me? What¡¯s this gotta do with my city right now?¡±


    ¡°Your kind,¡± he said simply, dryly, and suddenly the people on the other side of the glass fell silent. ¡°Your people just had to arrive here, but you¡¯ve been here for millennia in plain sight.¡±


    I leaned back in the chair, spine pressing against cold hard metal. ¡°I¡¯m just lucky that I got the powers I have. I had about three Awakening incidents when I was a kid, a real pain in the¡ª¡±


    ¡°The Greeks, Romans, supposedly the Christians, the Aztecs and even the Mesopotamians all believed in higher beings. Creatures from the heavens. Men and women who could perform miracles simply by existing. We found change in those ruins, under their cities, and all it had to take were several warheads and tides of blood to force us to dig for cleaner soil underneath it all.¡± He finally moved, but it was only to tilt his head. ¡°Rylee Addams, your blood is so valuable that there won¡¯t ever be any government on the planet who would be able to pay for even a test tube¡¯s worth of it. You are an asset and a liability. A social reject because your kind simply doesn¡¯t exist here anymore, and a girl who will never fully understand her importance in the world around her.¡±


    He leaned a little forward. ¡°We found gods in those ruins, and yet here we were, thinking that the real threat was each other, the superhumans. No, Rylee, your kind needs to be our assets.¡±


    All I could do was stare at him, mulling over his words. My heart was slow, my body relaxed, because I was very quickly starting to realize that a lot of people knew more about what I was than I ever would have liked. ¡°I¡¯m not that surprised that you know who I really am.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been watching you for years, since before you learnt how to speak English.¡± He moved again, if only to lean in closer, making my stomach twist. ¡°Do you know your tongue?¡±


    The cuffs shattered, falling to metallic shards that scattered onto the table as I pulled my hands apart. Flexing my fingers, staring at him, I said, ¡°You can ask as many questions as you want, and you can come up with as many crappy theories about me, too, if it¡¯s what gets you off, but there¡¯s on thing I¡¯m gonna make very, very clear: I¡¯m fine with you watching me, but if you¡¯re watching my mom and my friends? I¡¯ll make it look like it was an accident when the government eventually finds your upper half somewhere in the ruins of this damned place weeks from now.¡±


    And now the man smiled, showing an upper row of perfectly white blocky teeth. ¡°I believe wholeheartedly that you¡¯re capable of doing that and so much more. Isn¡¯t this the reason you left home and abandoned your friends? You were afraid something like this would happen eventually. A supervillain who learnt too much, hounding the noble hero and the only weakness they know she possesses: her loved ones. How tragic that is, and how very predictable as well, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    I grabbed his stupid scarf and yanked him close. In the next second, the air behind me shimmered, and three soldiers with glowing golden rifles were standing behind me. I glanced at them, then looked into the reflective blue lenses of his sunglasses. ¡°Very, very thin ice right now.¡±


    He didn¡¯t look alarmed or frightened. His face hadn¡¯t moved from its almost unimpressed but somewhat entertained look as he stared right back at me. I finally saw his eyes, if milky white orbs were what you could consider eyes. ¡°We want you to work alongside us starting as of today.¡±


    I blinked, waited for him to continue, but when he said nothing, I snorted and shoved him away from me. He didn¡¯t stumble or lose his footing. He simply patted himself down, flattening the wrinkles on his suit. ¡°So you sprout bullshit for ten minutes, and then ask me if I want a job?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re either an asset or a liability if you wear a costume and call yourself a superhero. The current system we have is weak and doomed to fail, put in place at a time when people were just beginning to understand that the Supers they watched in their movies and shows, bought products from and cheered for in the Olympics, could so easily destroy entire cities, murder thousands, and topple governments in mere hours if they simply wanted to, or had someone who manipulated them to. Your father and Titan changed the world for decades to come. It made us afraid of what you are, what you can do. My God, you alone are classified as a top priority for so many organizations around the world that I¡¯m sure the president himself wakes up everyday thanking God himself that your costume is almost the color of our flag. Trust is a fickle thing. But it can be bought. It can be forced. Everything has a value, but right now, the Olympiad doesn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine and dandy, but I¡¯ve got actual people to save and politics to ignore.¡±


    ¡°To satiate the Supers, they built them a temple and called it their base. They told the Supers who never fought in the war that this is where they would make their future stands, and for a while it worked, but now all they are is a shadow of the men and women who bled on those beaches and died in the mud of Europe hiding their true abilities out of fear. The Olympiad was meant to be a monument, did you know? Not a headquarters. And now it houses false heroes.¡±


    I said nothing, only watched as his cool exterior momentarily slipped.


    ¡°They force those people into suits and train them in cold concrete rooms, give them shiny badges and licenses that ultimately mean nothing and tell them to hold station, to wait and watch as New Olympus falls into disarray, and you wish to join them?¡± He shook his head, straightened his tie. The camera in the corner stopped blinking, and the other side of the glass wall was dead silent. He met my eyes, his own just over the rim of his tinted glasses. ¡°You¡¯d be wasting your talents.¡±


    ¡°And, what, they would be better used by some other branch of the government?¡±


    ¡°Precisely.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re ridiculously full of shit.¡±


    He stood still for several moments, staring at me until I felt seen through. ¡°Lucas Freeman, Shrike, how much do you really trust him? His main job as an Olympian was always espionage.¡±


    I folded my arms, hovering slightly off the floor. ¡°More than anyone.¡±


    ¡°Dani Danger, you know who she is, correct?¡±


    It¡¯s pretty hard not to know when Harper wouldn¡¯t let anyone forget who her mom is.


    ¡°Poseidon,¡± he said, getting my full attention. ¡°His wife makes a wonderful casserole.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s with all the names?¡±


    ¡°People who have stood right there over the years. Some easier to crack than others. Some riddled with guilt, some with bitterness. At the end of the day, they signed the contract with us.¡±


    I paused, didn¡¯t move. ¡°What do you mean they signed with you?¡±


    ¡°It means we worked with them. Studied them. Helped them.¡± He put his arms behind his back again, then said, ¡°We work with heroes, it¡¯s as simple as that. Normal and Superhuman, both extraordinary and vanilla to their core. Poseidon doesn¡¯t reside in this city, did you know? Right now he¡¯s somewhere off the coast of Taiwan, shifting global tides to ensure at least some stability. Dani was useful for a time in the eighties, but money can only change a girl from a trailer park so much, meaning she was a dud. I suppose drugs will do that to a person, but we have countless others globally. What we have here in the SDU is a system which works. A system governed for the people, by the same people who just want the world to stay afloat. The Olympiad is a talking point, a hot topic for those mouthbreathers who read the Olympus Bulletin. It stopped being a home of heroes, forgotten and current, experienced and green, the very same day that your father perished on Olympus Hill for the entire world to see. And now, Rylee, it¡¯s your turn. How much longer will you waste your talents fighting futile little gang wars instead of saving the world?¡±


    A lot was going through my head. A lot more than I had planned to learn tonight. Was that why Poseidon didn¡¯t go after us properly on the dock that night, because they wanted to study me?


    Had he stood there because he¡¯d had orders not to engage, but just to test what I could do?


    How long had these people been looming over me? Gods, years of my life. Every single moment with Bianca, Em, Grant and Michael. Every moment I dressed up as a superhero with a blanket tied around my neck, leaping around my room. Every argument I had with mom, and every night I spent hating myself for what happened to Selina, and the countless days I spent trying and failing to muster up the courage to tell Em and everyone else that it was my fault that she never went home that week. And every single godsdamned time I nearly died protecting this city, too.


    ¡°You¡¯re not any better,¡± I said icily. ¡°New Olympus needed help starting yesterday.¡±


    ¡°And you think we have the jurisdiction for that?¡± he asked. ¡°By law, we only engage with classed villains and nothing more. Gang wars are not our priority, but those of the police alone.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, according to who?¡±


    ¡°The mayor, and thus the government,¡± he said to me. ¡°Including her daughter.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit,¡± I said. ¡°Just send someone in there to at least freaking do something.¡±


    ¡°Exactly my point,¡± he said, nodding. ¡°You¡¯re going to be that person.¡± Before I could say something, he raised his hand, silencing me. ¡°The world looks at you, and we need that. Poseidon, Ares, Heka, they are all heroes gilded in gold and myth and legend, but their time has passed. The Olympians are statues at the foot of Olympus Hill, and figurines children collect in cereal. Olympia is what¡¯s next, and there¡¯s no time better than right now for the world to start seeing that. I¡¯m not one for glory, it¡¯s trite, but utilizing your skills to their best degree is the symbol more heroes need right now. Fifty vigilantes operate in Lower Olympus, thirty of whom are worth the costumes they wear at night. Hundreds of Superhumans in the entire city, maybe thousands if counting those who haven¡¯t been tested, and now we have a rallying point. Simply put: the world needs its heroes.¡±


    ¡°And you want me to be the reason they all stop being so afraid to help people?¡±


    ¡°Humans help humans every other day. We want them to go above and beyond.¡±


    Gods. I rubbed my eyes with my thumb and forefinger, trying to think. ¡°You¡¯re not the first person this summer to tell me how much I mean to this city, you know that? You¡¯re all like broken records. I get it, I don¡¯t do enough. I¡¯m not good enough. Rylee, just do better. I¡¯m trying, alright? I came here tonight for answers, and I want those answers. I¡¯ve been fucked over too many times in the past few weeks by people like you who think they know me inside and out, who think a contract and some history lesson and some grand thing about New Olympus needing her heroes will be the thing that keeps me at the end of your leash. I am not your dog or your weapon. What I am is Zeus¡¯ daughter, and she¡¯s pissed as all hell that you¡¯ve not answered any of her questions.¡±


    The man almost smiled. Almost smiled. ¡°Lucas has disappeared. Don¡¯t fret, he is safe, but he¡¯s a very intelligent man, hard to keep track of if he wishes to vanish. As for the recent Kaiju Awakenings and Evolutions, there¡¯s little else I can say except that it¡¯s a growing epidemic.¡±


    Where the hell did you go, Lucas? It¡¯s not the time for you to slip into the dark.


    ¡°And what¡¯re you doing about the Kaiju? You know what¡¯s happening?¡±


    ¡°Like I said before, Cassie Blackwood managed to get her hands on more Kaiju than we can, and she keeps them locked away in Blackwood Pharma for testing and dissection, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    So if I really wanted to learn anything tonight, I¡¯d have to go right to her doorstep.


    Amazing.


    ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking, and it¡¯s ill-advised. Putting a target that large on your back by going into her headquarters is tantamount to killing any chances superheroes have of returning.¡±


    ¡°How else am I supposed to figure out what¡¯s happening in my city?¡±


    He produced a card from the inside of blazer¡¯s pocket and set it onto the desk, sliding it across. I looked at him, studied him, then glanced down. It had my bugshot in one corner and a set of numbers and letters right next to it. My full name, including my middle name, was on it, as well as my date of birth, my sex, height and weight, and underneath power grade, it said ¡®classified.¡¯


    ¡°It¡¯s currently deactivated,¡± he said as I picked up the car¡ªmetal, maybe something harder than steel as I tried to bend it. ¡°All it needs is your finger recognition, and we¡¯ll be in contact.¡±


    ¡°Back to me being on your payroll,¡± I muttered, looking back at him.


    ¡°No, not officially. These cards do not exist, and if the government were to find out what we were doing here, there would be a fallout of many great magnitudes. We can¡¯t pay you, or offer you a home, nor any benefits. You can train here, eat here, have a place to stay if you must, and house your friends and mother if the time ever arises for a city-wide evacuation. You¡¯ll receive real-time data from across the globe, work alongside heroes on almost every continent, ensuring that these people keep playing their game of dress the Superhuman, as you do your civic duty to put superheroes back onto the negotiation table. And on Christmas, we host a costume party, which I¡¯m sure that girl¡ªBianca Ross, was it?¡ªwould love to attend. We serve her favorite kind of marble cake, and have a gala afterward that would more than make up for your missed prom.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± I said quietly, my voice tight in my throat. ¡°I have to follow orders.¡±


    ¡°If you have a problem following an order to stop a terrorist attack, then talk to me.¡±


    ¡°And what happens if I piss you off? You use my mom against me?¡±


    ¡°Rylee,¡± he said, hands now in his pockets. ¡°What does your mother have to do with this?¡±


    ¡°I¡­don¡¯t know. She¡¯s used against me all the time by everyone who finds out about me.¡±


    He shook his head, only a little, before saying, ¡°We want you to work with us, but not for us. I have worked alongside enough superheroes to know that their secret identities are worth more than gold to them. With you, however, I would be risking innocent lives by hurting your mother.¡±


    This sounded too good to be true. I¡¯d been hurt and lied to so many times recently that I struggled to believe anything out of anyone¡¯s mouth nowadays. ¡°When I die, I want to make sure that New Olympus was just as great as when dad finally left. That¡¯s never gonna change.¡±


    ¡°How else is one supposed to get a statue without great sacrifice for what they love?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m only doing this so I can stand next to him one day.¡±


    The man smiled. ¡°And not because of the humans, of course.¡±


    It felt like minutes as we stood on opposite ends of the table, him looking at me, and myself at the card still in my hands. He explained that the charges against me wouldn¡¯t be dropped, that just wasn¡¯t something he was capable of doing, but he could make it harder for them to find out who I was. My identity would remain secure. Mom and my friends would be a lot safer. All I had to do was just be a superhero. No pay, no housing, I¡¯d have to figure that out on my own, but I didn¡¯t become a superhero for the pay. A flashy penthouse wouldn¡¯t be the reason I picked myself up off the floor as tonnes of rubble rained down on me. And¡­hell, this was a silver bullet, too.


    Ava couldn¡¯t hold my family over my head anymore. She had nothing on me now.


    Fuck me, is this what good luck feels like?


    ¡°If you¡¯re screwing with me in any way¡­¡±


    ¡°Then God himself will have to stop you, because heaven knows we won¡¯t be able to.¡±


    All right then. Okay. I guess that meant I worked for the government now.

 Issue #34: Its A Family Affair

    Considering the state of the city, I guess it was a bad time to mention that a team of people in white lab coats had passed me a briefcase with a new supersuit inside of it as I made my way out of the SDU headquarters. I slipped out before anyone could ask too many questions, and the people who had seen me seemingly didn¡¯t know who I was as I shot out an exhaust vent and right over the airfield, briefcase in hand. Was it wrong that I felt buzzed right now, crouched on top of some towering building, the briefcase at my feet, myself on my knees, and my new gear in my hands? Yeah, I knew that I was supposed to be dealing with the Kaiju right now, but look at this thing.


    Up until now, I had been putting my costumes together with any tensile material I could afford that month, plus whatever Lucas kept in his closet from his Shrike days. Learning how to sew had been a really tedious chore, and learning how to limit myself to make sure I didn¡¯t destroy my gear every time I used my powers for longer than a few hours had also been a pain in the ass. But this, right now, in my hands, was something I couldn¡¯t even believe was happening. A new suit, for free, just because someone wants me to be a superhero. I didn¡¯t have to pay it off, either. I wasn¡¯t going to have to fight some turf war to keep it, or keep up my rank to advance my gear.


    This new suit was mine, just because Overseer Two¡ªhis name, not mine¡ªhad told a few people on his team to bring me my welcoming gift. Did I feel like a kid at Christmas? Yes, yes I really did, and it was almost ironic, because mom actually got me super-suit pajamas for my tenth birthday that totally weren¡¯t the reason that blue and red were now my predominant colors now. I didn¡¯t have the time to keep staring at it, though. Didn¡¯t have the time to waste feeling the soft but tensile fabric in my fingers, or breathe in the fresh spandex and tug at the seams to see if they would tear under pressure. I was excited, and also busy, but I was already slipping out of my old costume, making sure to fold the tattered, sweaty, sooty thing and place it back inside the briefcase.


    I was gonna keep it around, just because mom hadn¡¯t sewn it back together for me to throw it in the trash the first chance I got. But my time in hell hadn¡¯t done the old gear any favors, either.


    But Gods above, the new gear felt so damned good on my body. It wasn¡¯t too different from my old design, judging by what I saw in a skyscraper window. Lighter shades of red along my arms and blue on my torso, plus the golden lightning bolt on my chest seemed to glow whenever I used my power. How freaking cool was that? Strips of yellow lined the seams and the parts that connected the red and blue sections along my sides and down my thighs, which also glowed when I used my powers. The suit felt so much cooler to be in (literally and figuratively, don¡¯t blame me, I rarely got gifts), and a lot more breathable. I felt like I could move, actually move without worrying that I would rip it. It extended where it needed to, and hugged every part of my body the way I really needed my old gear to do sometimes but just couldn¡¯t because it was weak.


    A part of me, if I was free, would have stood around in my room and stared at the mirror, turning and twisting and trying to convince myself that it really was me wearing this thing now.


    Soon, and Gods, I really hope it¡¯s soon. One way to a hero¡¯s heart was through their gear.


    I¡¯d just have to get used to the red cape billowing behind me, which was¡­something.


    The people in lab coats had winked and left a note in the briefcase about the cape, something along the lines of: ¡°It¡¯s nothing special, just something you deserve. Don¡¯t destroy it too fast, the taxpayers won¡¯t like that much.¡± I didn¡¯t know what that meant, and capes were¡­fine, I guessed, ¡®cause dad had one anyway, but after stashing the briefcase near a few of my backpacks, I figured it was something I would have to learn about later. For now? I had a billionaire to piss off.


    But first, there was a weird thing going on with the city, at least, more weird than usual.


    New Olympus reeked of sewage, seafood, moss and honey. Even all the way up here, hovering above skyscrapers and spike-like antennas, the breeze carried the stenches up to my nose and forced them down my throat. The Kaiju market where we found Cedric had smelt almost exactly the same. Now the entire city was one giant slab of repugnance that my nose seemingly couldn¡¯t get rid of. Mix in the smells of sweat and burning food, a sewage system built decades ago and trash strewn all over alleyways and left to rot, then this wasn¡¯t a good time for me, either.


    I thanked the Gods I wasn¡¯t doing this during the day, with the sun making everything simmer. Whatever. My powers would fluctuate as long as I was still a teenager, that much I knew. My sense of smell and sight, hearing and taste were just as good as they had ever been, and if I wanted to get information on the people turning into Kaiju, then, for once in my life, I would actually have to be a little less Olympia and a lot more Shrike and actively use them instead of passively ignoring them. Sneaking around wasn¡¯t my usual thing, I rarely ever had to go around sniffing out clues and hiding from the bad guys. Go figure, if you strangled a supervillain long enough, they were willing to tell you everything about themselves. Tonight was different. Cassie Blackwood couldn¡¯t be touched, the Overseer had made that very, very clear. It hadn¡¯t been an order, just some advice, and I knew how the humans would react if I so much as pushed her.


    So I would just have to sneak into Blackwood Pharma and see for myself.


    Which would have been a lot easier if I wasn¡¯t a mix of primary colors.


    But come on, I wasn¡¯t going to let that stop me. We were trained to be powerful, to be agile, to be better, and even though I didn¡¯t really like the assholes up in the stars, I believed them.


    Some scanner wasn¡¯t going to be the end of my night, and neither was a security camera.


    The Blackwoods had made a name for themselves, say, about a few hundred years ago by selling the medical services they stole from other practitioners overseas, and that was just about as much as I knew them for. They were, what the humans called, old money¡ªreally, really old money, and their headquarters, Blackwood Pharmaceuticals, made it seem like they didn¡¯t know what old meant. It was just one in the slew of grand megacorporations sitting on the waterfront, looking out onto the ocean that spanned into the horizon, and to their left, was my dad¡¯s statue, and to their right, were the people in Lower Olympus they extorted for their cash. The building was a shard of glass, quite literally looking like one, that reached into the sky. It glinted in the moonlight, caught by so many of the other bright artificial lights around it. The campus surrounding it was huge, spanning at least three blocks, shoving the other skyscrapers away from it as if it didn¡¯t want to be touched. With their name engraved in the slab of concrete at its entrance, it looked¡­normal.


    Almost boring.


    The flag snapped in the wind, right alongside the family¡¯s owl crest and golden crown wreath. I was up in the clouds, which had blown a little lower tonight, making the air chilly. Arms folded and hovering, I watched men and women in suits and coats walk in and out of the building, holding tablets and briefcase, handbags and phones. Normal people doing normal things, heading home from work or maybe to a bar after a long day. Just don¡¯t mind the large armored trucks with the Damage Control logo stamped onto the side in red, or the armed guards who circled the main gate and watched over video feeds they frequently flicked through. This place was a freaking fortress, and those human-Kaiju people were somewhere inside of it. The old me (a few weeks ago, me) would have knocked on Cassie¡¯s office window and shattered it to invite myself in.


    I still wanted to do that, just to see the look on her face and hear what she had to say. Could you imagine the scream she would make? Oh, and the interviews she would have for weeks after.


    Instead, I waited for a while, watching as two more Damage Control trucks came in through a separate gate that the workers left from. This gate was bulkier, required a passcode, hand print, and retinal scan from the driver to enter. My guess was that there were Kaiju in the backs of those trucks, judging by the sour looks the guards had on their faces as the trucks went into the compound and quickly vanished. Simply vanished. I had to wait an extra ten minutes for another trio of armored vans to come back, and¡­there, they were disappearing into a hidden parking lot that presumably went straight underneath the building. Not so hidden, just out toward the waters so you couldn¡¯t see it from the front. Another gate would open, the trucks would go in, and it would slide shut, obscuring my view of them in a heartbeat. An underground passage to somewhere hidden? Made sense, I figured. You wouldn¡¯t want your half-Kaiju screaming and screeching near the finance and marketing offices. Alright, Ry, time to figure out how to get inside of this place.


    I didn¡¯t have that many options other than to do what I usually did and demand answers, but tonight had to be different. The Blackwoods already had a problem with me, for whatever reason, so pissing them off some more wouldn¡¯t help. Sneak in somehow. Maybe follow the trucks that went down the hidden ramp so fast that the guards wouldn¡¯t see it on their radars? That might work, and I didn¡¯t see why it wouldn¡¯t work. I had moved that fast before, had done it when Adam first appeared and nearly killed Knuckles. Now I just had to figure out how I did that. I¡¯d been panicked, spooked by this feeling of something insanely powerful rocketing our way, carving through the sky similar to the way dad used to, like a bullet. When I flew, people knew about it.


    When Adam and dad flew, they cut through the sky, just like the rest of my people do.


    If I tried flying in there at anything slower than I had that day fighting Adam, then they would feel the gust of wind, and hell, maybe I might kill a few of them if I wasn¡¯t careful about it.


    I sighed through my teeth, the wind bitter against my cheeks. Only one way to find out if you can do it, Ry, and that¡¯s by actually doing it. Or else I¡¯d be stuck in their basement with a bunch of their soldiers surrounding me and nowhere else to go. They¡¯d call it a city-wide crisis.


    Fuck it, they had a few billion in the bank to fix up the place if I missed the entrance.


    And the night wasn¡¯t getting any warmer, or the people in my city any safer.


    I still couldn¡¯t believe this all was for a human I barely knew, but¡­why not, you know?


    It took an entire hour for the next convoy to drive toward the gate and get halted. The guards had a process of scanning the trucks, checking whatever cargo was inside of it, then they would get to the men and women driving them and start asking questions and casually chat as they did their biometrics. So, all in all, it was about a five minute stop worth of a gap. In that time, I remained on top of the opposing skyscraper of some media conglomerate, its neon signs coating me in hues of reds and pinks. I was crouched in the dark, watching them, waiting, but I was trying to gather as much electricity as I could, as much heat and energy as I could from the air itself. Nobody had ever properly explained where my powers came from, but that didn¡¯t matter. The first truck hissed as it let off its breaks. The other guard who had been checking the first truck raised his fist, and then the gate began to move. Shit. My cape snapped in the wind just over my shoulder. I shut my eyes and slowed my breathing, listening to their tires on the asphalt and the grinding of their gears. A little more, Ry. Closer to the entrance. Not enough charge running through my veins.


    But who knew when the next trucks would come, or if they would even have Kaiju at all?


    So I positioned myself, angling toward the entrance facing the waters.


    Waited. Waited. Not yet, they were close, but not yet.


    Now.


    The instance I pounced forward, the world seized up. The gravel underneath my boots hung suspended, the birds I startled froze mid-air, but the gap in the gate wasn¡¯t big enough yet.


    It took me seconds to reach the leading truck, then milliseconds to get up to the gate.


    I swore, turned my body, sliding through a gap just large enough for me if I held my breath and twisted myself around. The momentum carried me through, shooting me down a tunnel that carried on deep, deep into the earth. Orange light bulbs lined the ceiling. Cameras dotted the walls. Then a shard of pain raked through my entire body, down my spine, like someone had reached into my neck and tried ripping each vertebrate right out of my body. My muscles jerked, spasmed. I bit down on my tongue, forced myself to keep going fast enough that the cameras couldn¡¯t swivel and the guards who patrolled certain checkpoints didn¡¯t see me until, finally, I came to the end of the tunnel. It opened up into a large parking lot, each space marked with numbers and yellow lines, guards and large white containers that had to be mechanically forced onto the end of each truck.


    I would have paused right there, skidding to a halt, and watched as they opened the trucks to really check if there were half-human Kaiju sealed inside them, if I had the ability to stop how I wanted. My speed vanished all too quickly, disappearing like someone had turned off a valve. I stumbled, gasping quietly, and quickly hid behind a line of empty trucks. My lungs burned, trying their damndest to rip their way out of my chest. Breathe. Breathe, Ry, breathe. The last of my powers spat from my fingertips like sparks, then dimmed, trickling onto the concrete and dying. Shit. My powers. After saving Knuckles, they¡¯d all but gone. Same position, same problem. I heard a few of the guards ask questions, and heard two sets of boots knocking against the floor.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    I had my back against the truck, sweat gleaming on my brow. Closer, louder footsteps.


    They turned the corner, checking around the truck, and I made very sure to get comfortable underneath it. I watched their feet, listened to them mutter about being damn sure they had heard something back here. My fingers dug deeper into the metal, and I swallowed air, fought my lungs and the urge I had to pant and gasp for oxygen. Three soldiers walked around the trucks, talking into their comms, and finally, they stopped walking, stopped talking. My lungs only swelled more. And then one of them got on their knees, flashlight in hand as they searched underneath it. I shut my eyes, praying my cape would stay in place, making sure¡ªvery, very sure¡ªthat my fingers dug deeper into the undercarriage so much that I was half sure that the thing would rip off in my hands.


    The flashlight¡¯s small white beam slid across the floor right underneath me. I held my breath, trying not to allow the sweat dripping off the bridge of my nose to get any lower, but¡­


    A noise, a shrieking sound that only a Kaiju could make, tore through the air. The soldiers swore and ran back to the other side of the large loading area, but I wouldn¡¯t take any chances. I waited there, clinging to the grimy undercarriage, listening to the sounds of high pressure darts pinch into something fleshy, then a long, lasting silence filled the air. You could almost hear the soldiers breathe with relief, or maybe it was a little bit of anger that the thing that slumped onto the ground hard enough to make the truck shudder was their responsibility. I couldn¡¯t get a good look at it here, and I wasn¡¯t going to give it a shot. My luck had worn thin (if I¡¯d even owned any to begin with), so I made sure the soldiers had offloaded the truck before hitting the floor with a gasp.


    I lay there, breathing in fine dust, eyes shut and sweat trickling into my eyes. My powers wouldn¡¯t be back for about another forty minutes, or maybe an hour. Slightly stronger, maybe slightly faster, didn¡¯t know how bullet proof, but I figured how bullet proof I was didn¡¯t matter if I was going to be trapped underneath this building with armed guards and Damage Control, too.


    But I had to get going, so that¡¯s what I did as I pulled myself out from the truck¡¯s belly and crouched beside its large, rugged rear tire. I couldn¡¯t spot any cameras here, maybe on purpose, maybe because Cassie didn¡¯t want any of those super geniuses living in their moms¡¯ basements to stumble upon something she didn¡¯t want the world to see. Or I just can¡¯t see the cameras and she¡¯s watching me right now, crouched here like some idiot. I would like to think the latter. I would like to hope for the latter as I worked my way down the line and closer to the large main loading bay.


    Past strapped down and empty steel cages. Passed wooden crates marked caution.


    They were taking the half-Kaiju through a door just as large as the gaping entrance of any warehouse at the docks. Standing in front of it, it dwarfed me by several dozen feet high and across. It had sealed shut as soon as they had left, having attached the metal containers onto rails that, by my educated guess, shuttled it through the door and into the main building. Nobody was down here except me and those voices I heard whispering in my head, telling me to hurry, telling me that something terrible was happening behind the door. ¡°Can¡¯t you hear them screaming?¡± they hissed. ¡°Listen, listen to their voices.¡± Gods, I hated being able to hear them, because all they were doing was making my heart thump harder against my chest and my nerves simmer more in my gut. I didn¡¯t know what the voices knew, but I did know that I had to get inside somehow.


    I placed my hand on the warm, reinforced black steel. I tested it, pushing against it slightly. It didn¡¯t move, didn¡¯t groan. This was several inches worth of metal sitting dead in front of me.


    Glancing at the biometrics scanner far to my right, then back at the door, I sighed.


    I knew one way to get in, one way that would alert the guards that someone was here, but what other option did I have? I could heat up my body, maybe try to melt it, but who knew how long that would take me? Punching my way through this thing would just be asking for it, too.


    ¡°Stand there longer, more of them perish; your sacrifice to this world, a waste.¡±


    I also didn¡¯t like hearing the voices shit talking me.


    Before I could raise my fist, the entirety of my body shuddered involuntarily. I glanced behind me, then strained to listen to the tunnel for the sound of trucks. Nothing. Then: ¡°It¡¯s taken long enough, but I¡¯m sure you can hear me now. Cassie¡¯s done a number on signals down there.¡±


    I spun, but saw nobody. Invisibility? Of course, Ry. It would mean she had someone watching over this place almost all the time, making it easy for her guards to pick anything up.


    But the last I checked, the Blackwoods would rather do guard duty themselves than hire a superhuman to do it for them. I glanced at my suit, at the seamless fingerless gloves that attached to the forearms, and the symbol on my chest. It hadn¡¯t been a voice, per-say, but more like¡­a feeling.


    ¡°Olympia?¡± my suit said again, and once more, not a voice, but a feeling on my skin, like the entire thing was pulsating in a very, very minute way. ¡°God, we spent so much on this freaking suit, and this piece of shit isn¡¯t working properly. She¡¯s blind, we¡¯ll have to either send someone down there to give her backup, or let her work. Put Redline on standby. What? No, I don¡¯t fucking care that he¡¯s in Dublin right now! Get him on the phone and tell him to put on his running shoes.¡±


    ¡°I¡­can hear you?¡± I whispered. Of all the weird and wonderful things I¡¯d seen this summer, I figured that talking to my own costume was just the beginning of what a build up of several unchecked concussions was doing to my head. ¡°Unless I¡¯m talking to myself right now.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± it said. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was a man or a woman I was hearing (feeling?). ¡°Thank God. That¡¯s great news. Redline¡¯s a hassle nobody ever wants to deal with. How clear can you hear me right now? No breaking or voice catching, I hope?¡± I answered yes reluctantly. ¡°Fantastic. Now, judging by the suit¡¯s tracker, you¡¯re about five hundred feet underneath their three lower level basements, which puts you¡­there. Okay, the good news is that nobody except Damage Control is gonna find you if this goes tits up, and the bad news is that you¡¯re standing there when a few dozen more of their trucks are on their way, so I¡¯ll advise you to get going really, really soon.¡±


    I shook my head, saving my questions for another time. The grumble of engines and the squeal of tires against the floor echoed down the passage at the end of the loading bay. I looked back at the thick metal door, flexed my fingers, made a fist and hit it as hard as I could, just to test it out. The good news was that I had enough strength to leave a dent in it, but the bad news was that I only made a knuckle-shaped dent in it. Not enough, not anywhere near enough. I shook out my hand, and the skin on my hand had split, leaving blood on my fingers. Dull pain was working itself deep into my bones, and fuck, did I forget how much it hurt. And over my shoulder, the trucks were getting closer, their engines louder. The final groan of a gate rolling aside shrieked through the tunnel, made much, much louder by the gaping exit. I had minutes, maybe five, to get this right.


    The only problem was that I didn¡¯t know what I was getting right.


    ¡°What do I do?¡± I hissed. ¡°I¡¯m kinda out of options here.¡±


    My suit hummed, which felt¡­weird. ¡°Guessing with the pressure spike I just saw, you tried to hit it and nothing happened. How long until your powers come back? Better be soon, kid.¡±


    ¡°Forty minutes, maybe thirty by now.¡±


    ¡°Fuck,¡± it muttered, pausing before it spoke again. ¡°All right, shit, how¡¯s about you¡ª¡±


    I hit the door again, making an even deeper dent. The engine pitches rose, their deep grumbles echoing. Again and again, clamping my jaw shut to stop myself from groaning as my knuckles split and more blood spat onto the floor and the door and my suit. Then it gave. Buckled. I got my hands onto the edge of the tiny gap and forced my fingers through, put my foot on the frame and pulled. Was it stupid? Was I scared of getting caught and having to fight people who had otherwise done nothing wrong except do their jobs? The snapping, shattering, and crumbling of metal in my hands, and the painful, burning strain of my shoulders and back and arms was an answer enough. It would have been easier with my powers, as easy as opening any door, or I could have tried simply waiting for another convoy and gone flying right past them in a blink of an eye. Hell, I could have tried keeping up my speed and shot right through the gap before they closed it!


    Every idea is great in hindsight, and even better before the blaring red alarms go off.


    The strips of orange lighting blinked off, then came back blood red just as soon as I had shoved the door wide enough for me to slip through. The first truck came to a halt, the guard that lept out of it catching only the faintest glimpse as I vanished beyond it. I ran and ran like hell, faster, at least, than any normal human, meaning I was far out of his line of sight before he could get a good look at me. I followed the tracks they put the containers on until I came to a space so big I was sure the Golden Guild could fit inside of it ten times over. I stopped, panting, looking around. The normal lights were gone, and the scarlet emergency lights were blinking and flashing, but the alarm was off and so was the shrieking noise that had been burrowing into my eardrums.


    ¡°Ha!¡± my suit said, as I hid behind a table, trying to catch my breath and listen for the sound of guards pursuing me. ¡°Atta girl! They woulda loved you in the Eighties, tell you what.¡±


    ¡°Would you stop talking?¡± I snapped quietly. What was this place? Drenched in red light, I could barely make out anything, but I had to move, keep hiding, keep looking for what they were doing with the Kaiju. No guards right now, maybe because they¡¯d been alerted by the siren? Gods, I didn¡¯t know. Just didn¡¯t know. They could be anywhere. This place was huge enough not for me to see them until they saw me first. ¡°Unless you want me to get caught and cause a State panic.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry ¡®bout that,¡± it said. ¡°Only you can hear me, and maybe a few dogs and bats. Did you know your skin is so sensitive that you can hear through it? Sh¨Cum¨CSpecial Agent Freeman told us all about it. You probably don¡¯t think too much about how impressive that is, but when you¡¯re deep under water, or high up in the air, your body changes to accommodate that. You adapt as you go. Train hard enough and you could probably start sensing someone¡¯s presence even before they¡¯re close to you just by feeling the air change around you. God, kid, by the time you¡¯re thirty, you could probably sense tremors and earthquakes, tsunamis and hurricanes even before they¡¯ve arrived! You¡¯re more than just two fists, a few feet, and some bared teeth, you know.¡±


    Thanks for the biology lesson. ¡°That¡¯s really great, and I love the kick you¡¯re getting out of this, but I¡¯m stuck in this godsdamned building and would really like some help right about now.¡±


    Silence, then: ¡°I¡¯ve done what I can, bought you at least ten minutes, but they¡¯re gonna find out soon enough that the alarm wasn¡¯t for someone leaving their toast in for a little too long.¡±


    ¡°What about the guy who saw me?¡± I asked, creeping out from behind the crate I was hiding behind. Nothing around me, my eyes slowly adjusting. Time to start searching for answers.


    ¡°Considering him, then you¡¯ve got about five minutes tops.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re no help at all, you know that?¡±


    ¡°Do you suggest I make it easier for the door you broke to slide right open?¡±


    ¡°Keep up the great work,¡± I muttered.


    I let myself stand upright a little bit more as I slowly worked my way through the room. Fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling on chains, swaying slightly as something made the ground shudder. Tables full of documents that made no sense to me (medical records, I guessed, and reports on something called Ambrosia Phase One littered desks and floors and were pinned up on walls), as well as computers that were password and biometrics protected. The thing talking to me from my suit couldn¡¯t help with that. Cassie had made very sure that nobody other than the people who worked here could get into that information. The computers were chunky and old, fat and took up entire desks. From before I came to earth, I guessed. Boxy things. I decided to take pictures with my phone instead of papers and documents, not really knowing what I was doing, having to describe them to my suit and follow whatever it was that he said was important to them.


    But I hadn¡¯t come here for research papers that didn¡¯t make sense to me, most of which were locked in said computers. The boys and girls at the SDU could figure out what Ambrosia Phase One was. The pictures of the documents were for them. The diagrams and detailed medical breakdowns of whatever Ambrosia was would be for them to study and understand and tell me about it later. I had come for something else, for the glass cages that were deep inside the room.


    And I stood, frozen, in front of dozens upon dozens of rows of them at the back. It didn¡¯t take long for me to get lost in a maze of them, and it took even shorter for me to want to puke, too.


    Each was smaller than my room. Every single one was fixed with a hole for a toilet, a pipe for a shower, but that didn¡¯t matter, because the first one¡­ the first person I saw, was half-dead.


    They lay on the floor of the glass cage, breathing in the misty fumes of whatever was being pumped inside of the glass cage through a grate. I stepped closer, a ball of cold disgust in my gut.


    They look like Amy, was my first thought, but Amy had at least looked human. The person in the cage barely had skin, just tongues of mottled black flesh attached to their body by writhing black tendrils. Those tendrils were moving, curling, slithering along the floor and grasping at the glass walls. I took another step past a cautioned black and yellow line, put my hand on the glass, tried to knock, but nothing. The tentacles recoiled, but the body remained flat on the floor. Fuck, were they even alive? I asked that question countless times, looking at more of the same: people in cages, some thin, some fat, but every single one of them with green or black or purple or red slimy tendrils spilling out of at least one orifice. Their backs, their chests, some right out of their heads.


    Then, at the back, was the largest cage of them all. About the size of five cages pushed together, and hell, there were about ten people in this thing. At least, there used to be ten people.


    All I could make out was a melding of flesh and tentacles and bones and organs. A pile of steaming innards and eyeballs and teeth and mouths, and, oh, Gods, I turned, put my hand to my mouth, and tried not to puke when one of the eyes locked on me, followed by several dozen more.


    People weren¡¯t turning into Kaiju, that would have been less horrific.


    They were turning into this.


    ¡°Pictures,¡± my suit whispered, even quiet to me. ¡°You need to take pictures.¡±


    And I did, I had to, because these were normal people, weren¡¯t they? Not bad people, not supervillains. I didn¡¯t know that, didn¡¯t want to figure it out. Why did I have to? Look at them, their joints held by tentacles and heads attached by stringy muscles. Some of the cages had medical equipment inside of them, but not the kind that kept someone alive. Some of these cages, these people who sprouted tentacles and worm-filled mouths and large, gaping wounds with those godsawful little maggots burrowing around their papery pale tissue, were being cut up and forced apart, too. One woman had her arm dangling from the same suspension cables you would have in any hospital if you broke a bone, except the worms were trying to yank the flesh of her shoulder and upper arm back together, but were too far apart. She was groaning, moaning, a mask on her face that I was more than sure wasn¡¯t just pumping oxygen into her lungs, but something else.


    The hue of crimson lighting suddenly snapped to white, and the sound of an elevator dinged not too far away. I backed away as the half-Kaiju began mewling and shrieking, some trying to shrink away from lights so bright they burned away any remnants of the shadows. I swore, crouched, then took one powerful lunge upward to hide high up in the rafters above me.


    And then tried my damndest not to curse the same as my mom did when she walked out of the elevator.

 Issue #35: Family Reunion, Anyone?

    It was just my luck that mom was here tonight, but then again, where else would she be? Neither of us had been at home for longer than a few hours when I still lived with her. Mom because of work, myself because of trying to be a superhero. But not¡­this, leading a huddle of researchers who flocked around her like unemployed superhumans to back-alley movie deals. I always knew she was somewhat important. Always on the phone, always answering emails. Massaging the dark rings around her eyes whenever she thought I wouldn¡¯t notice. She worked for the Blackwoods, and yes, that had only spiced up our arguments a little bit more, but I¡¯d never thought it''d be this.


    My stomach dropped a little as I watched her stand in front of the largest glass cage, the one right underneath me. A hand in her pocket, the other holding her circular glasses as she tilted her head. Her honey-blonde hair fell to one side, as if she wanted her ear free to listen to the thing.


    And the worst part was that she was so casual, so easy, about staring at it. She was the only researcher standing past the black and yellow danger line, as if this was just another day to her.


    When I was little, I once asked her what she actually did all day when I went to school. I knew that dad was busy, and when she came for career days, it would always be the same answer.


    Some days a doctor, others a scientist, she would say, smiling. I work with Supes, kids.


    But I never got anything more than that, and when I started being Olympia, I figured that it was my turn to keep a secret from her, too. It was petty, I know, but I had been fourteen, alright?


    Sometimes I wished we could just talk it out the same way the humans on television did, but now wasn¡¯t the time, because mom was shaking her head, folding away her glasses, and turning to look at a very thin and very pale woman standing just over her shoulder. ¡°Clare,¡± she said calmly, clearly. ¡°I need Rett on the line to tell me why we had to evacuate. I know he¡¯s going to give me shit for breaking protocol by coming down here, anyway, but those damned alarms are a pain, and we¡¯ve already got enough on our plates.¡± She pointed her glasses at three other men. ¡°Mikey, Liam, I need you both to go through database gamma through to omega, make sure our files aren¡¯t tainted, and Matt? Stop looking like you¡¯re gonna piss yourself and call Cassie for me.¡±


    None of them paused, except for Matt¡ªa guy with a pinched face and low brow¡ªwho looked left and right before quickly heading to a phone not too far from the elevator, heart racing.


    The rest of the team worked through the glass cages, reading monitors and making notes, relaying that information to each other in rapid succession. Mom seemingly ran a tight ship, and watching her work was like seeing her alter ego instead of the person who burnt every pancake she ever tried to make. She sat on the edge of a desk, found a cigarette in her pocket and lit it with a match. One of the researchers scrunched up their noses, but she didn¡¯t pay them any attention. She was still staring at the large cage, still analyzing it, even if the people inside of it begged for death as the fleshy tentacles sloppily slammed against the glass, shrieking and moaning and bellowing.


    Maybe it wasn¡¯t that clear to their ears, but it was to mine. It wasn¡¯t as much of a sentence as it was a feeling coming from them. Fear, hate, agony. All of it was brewing into one foul stew.


    Seconds later, and one of the people attached to the end of a tentacle as large as my leg slammed against the glass, making a hollow thud. None of the researchers stopped to look at it.


    Gods, I thought, moving silently across the beams. What¡¯re you doing to them?


    ¡°Researcher Addams,¡± Matt said, hurrying back from the phone. ¡°Corina said¡ª¡±


    Mom sighed and stopped sitting on the table. ¡°Of course she¡¯s not available,¡± she muttered, plucking the phone out of the receiver and hitting one of the three buttons. ¡°Entitled little prick.¡±


    ¡°Are you going to stay there?¡± my suit said. I froze, waited for someone to arch an eyebrow and glance upward¡ªnothing. The only reaction I got was from the tentacles below, which briefly latched onto their glass ceilings before letting go. ¡°¡®Cause things are about to get complicated, and by my guess, it sounds like none of them are going anywhere. When their in-house security head gets here, they¡¯ll sweep the area, and you¡¯re not exactly stealthy, kid.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t respond, and I hoped the message was clear: I was going to stay here until I figured out what my mother was doing with these people. I wanted to believe it was for a good reason, that they were finding some kind of cure, but wouldn¡¯t there be a lot more, I don¡¯t know, medical stuff lying around? Instead of bits and pieces of human body parts sectioned off into tiny chunks that the researchers were prying open with scalpels? Hell, there were tables encased in glass with people strapped to them, their stomach cavities wide open as the scientists dug through their organs and the hives of worms that festered in them. Gods, it was like some kind of horror movie, watching as the worms spilled out of bodies. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions. Maybe I didn¡¯t want to think my own mother was partly to blame for any of this. What she was doing here, I figured, was the hard decisions, having to keep these people in cages so they could be studied and helped and¡­fuck. I massaged my temples, trying to fight off a pulsing growing headache.


    I was all for putting supervillains down, that would never change.


    But she was doing something right, wasn¡¯t she? She had to be.


    Gods, please, she has to be.


    ¡°Corina, hi,¡± mum said, dragging her cigarette briefly. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m doing fine, thanks. Just wonderful, and could you tell Cassie to stop fraternizing with whatever politician she¡¯s with in her office and get her to come down here? Yes¡­.yes¡­no, Corina, you heard me perfectly clearly, and we wouldn¡¯t want to ruin everyone¡¯s day in the office because something escaped down here, now would we? No? That¡¯s great. I¡¯ll be expecting her in the next five. She needs to hear this soon.¡±


    She set the phone back onto the wall, then did as I had and massaged her temples.


    As if my day couldn¡¯t get any worse. Cassie Blackwood was on her way.


    ¡°Shit,¡± my suit muttered. ¡°Welp, the door could only hold for so long. The system they¡¯ve got is so tight, it¡¯s amazing the government even allows a private company to have it, you know.¡±


    I heard what he meant before I could piece it together. The tunnel myself and several of the large equipment and cages had come from filled with the noise of boots against concrete. I swore, flexed my fingers, and got a handful of sparks in return. All I needed was a few more minutes, and then I would be out of here, at least, until the SDU could figure out what the documents I had taken photos of meant. Whatever was happening to people in New Olympus was going to keep happening, and by the looks of things (and the looks of empty glass cages), it wouldn¡¯t stop any time soon. Blackwood Pharma were expecting more of these half-Kaiju abominations to spill onto the streets and the alleyways, and Gods, I hadn¡¯t even thought about all those homes yet. Judging by the glaring bloodstains yet to be washed off of old and empty cages, there had been a lot more of them than I could have thought. Who knew how long any of this had been going on for?


    And who knew how many of them were still out there, in abandoned homes, in sewers, brewing in some kid¡¯s stomach as their parents thought they¡¯d just eaten something bad for lunch.


    The people in Lower Olympus tended to wear masks, sometimes to protect from some Supe cold that might just kill a Normal if they weren¡¯t careful, or just because of the terrible air quality. But they¡¯d been wearing them because of the Kaiju, because of the things that writhed and crawled, gurgled and flatlined simply because they were choking on their own liquified organs. This was a pandemic, according to the people back around my area, and I watched as two of the cages in the middle of the maze lit up with stark red light, making my mom stop smoking her cigarette as the thunderous sound of the approaching Damage Control guards got louder. She gestured for about ten researchers to go check the cages. One of them activated an electric shock that went through the metal floor of the cell, but¡­nothing. Only the smell of burning tentacles.


    My mom didn¡¯t swear or sigh. Her eyes just seemed to get a little more tired.


    I shook my head, looking up at the soldiers who exited the tunnels, their assault rifles raised and face shields in place. Their stark white uniform made them look out of place in contrast to the bland grays surrounding them, but Gods, they were efficient, almost inhuman, as they ignored the researchers and swept through the area. I had just enough to hover, pulling myself into the shadows a little more, but soon enough, they had actual scanners shining blue light from some kind of gauntlet on their forearms. Since when did they have those? What even were those? I slipped out of the way as one soldier raised his arm to the beams, but he¡¯d seen something. A blur, I was sure, because those face shields weren¡¯t just for protecting their identity, I was sure of it. Three others raised their arms, turning the dark space above a dim blue glow as I flew out of reach, but they followed, tracking me, as if they were trying to corner me. I used old wires and support beams to block the scanners, cursing under my breath as one got dangerously close to catching my foot.


    ¡°Clear,¡± a woman said loudly, then the lights around me vanished. I let out a breath.


    ¡°Negative,¡± another said, taking off his face shield. He was dark-skinned, with squinted eyes and pressed lips. ¡°Sightings of an unidentified hostile have to be confirmed first. Keep checking, keep looking. I want heat sigs, and any Divergent Virus residue in the air has to be traced to its source, logged, and made sure that we know where the hell it came from. Anything that¡¯s not recognised is gonna get tagged, and you move in a unit, is that clear?¡± A unison ¡®yes sir!¡¯ followed, then he muttered, ¡°And for the love of God, be careful. If they¡¯re strong enough to shove aside several tonnes worth of reinforced steel, they¡¯re strong enough to check what you¡¯ve had for dinner. I¡¯ll need ten on me. Five more to make sure the research team gets immediate evac, too.¡±


    ¡°A hello would be nice,¡± mom muttered. ¡°Hi, Rett. How¡¯s your night shift going?¡±


    ¡°You turned off the alarm, Veronica,¡± he said bluntly, as his team began rounding up the researchers like sheep, until mom put up her hand, making even them pause. Rett looked around, nonplussed, then locked eyes with mom again. ¡°That goes against company security policy.¡±


    ¡°If Cassie cared so much about company security, she wouldn¡¯t be keeping monsters in her basement, now would she?¡± Mom offered him a cigarette from a crumpled packet, but he didn¡¯t take any. Ronnie shrugged and waved her hand at the cages. ¡°Your boys left with us as soon as the alarms went off, and when the alarms went off, the emergency generators briefly failed for about thirty seconds before I came down here and turned off your security protocol.¡± Her voice wasn¡¯t lined with venom or anger or hate. It was just cold, simple, as if she was explaining how she broke her fingernail. ¡°You know what can happen in thirty seconds, Rett. We were all here last year.¡±


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    ¡°A system failure is expected when new measures are being put in place.¡±


    Mom snorted. ¡°Right, because you think diverting power to¡ª¡±


    Rett¡¯s eyes narrowed as he glanced at the researchers. Mom stopped talking.


    ¡°In any case,¡± he said slowly. ¡°Sabrina¡¯s going to want to hear why you shut down the system here when the entire building is still under lockdown. A break-in like this means everyone is at risk, so¡±¡ªhe jerked his head, and the research team got swept away into the elevators, leaving a few more Damage Control soldiers, mom, and dozens of monsters here with me¡ª¡°let¡¯s make sure it doesn¡¯t happen again. Someone is here with us, maybe several people. If worst comes to worst, you know the steps we¡¯re going to have to take, and what it means for the program, too.¡±


    Ronnie glanced at the cages, not looking back as she said, ¡°It would be a mercy.¡±


    ¡°For the person who broke in, or for those fucking things?¡±


    ¡°Whose to tell, really?¡±


    ¡°Sir,¡± one of the soldiers said quietly. ¡°There¡¯s no virus residue here.¡±


    ¡°Possibility that the hostile has already escaped, sir,¡± another person said.


    Rett shook his head, visor under his arm as he turned to them. ¡°You saw the door, saw the dent they left. The Supe is still somewhere here. They¡¯re strong, but not stealthy. Keep looking.¡±


    ¡°Or,¡± mom said, ¡°they could have two sets of powers, and their body is able to become so reflective of light it seems like they¡¯re invisible. Or maybe they floated right through the ceiling.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know Supes could have two sets of powers. As far as I knew, everyone got one.


    But the way mom was talking about it¡­


    ¡°Chances of that?¡± Rett asked.


    She shrugged. ¡°Zero to none. Never happened before. Damn near impossible, man. And if it did happen, then you¡¯re just as dumb as the person lying to you.¡± Mom crossed her arms, silent, then quietly said, ¡°Or it¡¯s the one person the entire world knows has several superpowers, Rett.¡±


    My blood chilled as I stopped moving through the air. I¡¯d been inching toward the tunnel exit, the human-Kaijus underneath me banging against their glass cages as I hovered over them. But I wasn¡¯t moving now, wasn¡¯t even breathing properly, paranoid because my own mom had just ratted me out to a group of legalized thugs. I wanted to be angry, but I¡¯d been angry at her for months now, and this just felt like turning the heat up in the frothing mess that was our relationship, because don¡¯t you just hate it when your mom snitches on you to armed soldiers? I waited for her to say more to him, to change his mind, slap his shoulder, and tell him she was lying about all that.


    They just stared at one another, neither speaking or moving for a very long minute.


    ¡°Two now,¡± Rett said to her. ¡°There¡¯s two of those things flying around now.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± mom said, nodding. ¡°What¡¯s that other kid¡¯s name, Andy?¡±


    I hadn¡¯t realized it until now, because I¡¯d been determined as hell not to be heard, that I had missed the elevator slowly returning. ¡°Adam,¡± a voice said when it opened. ¡°The name¡¯s Adam.¡±


    Internally, I swore. Externally, I tensed my jaw so hard I might have cracked a tooth.


    ¡°Wow,¡± my suit said. ¡°You¡¯re like a magnet for all kinds of bad luck, kid. My mom¡¯s a spiritual healer. You should pop by her place some time, ¡®cause working with you is ridiculous.¡±


    Yeah, well, you¡¯ve barely been around for two hours of my life, smart ass. Get cozy.


    But I also had to ask, what the fuck was Adam doing hovering next to Cassie Blackwood?


    And what the hell was a Supe from the Olympiad doing in a place that hated our kind?


    Gods, just once would I want one simple night. I wanted to go back to the days when my English teacher turned out to be a villain, or I¡¯d stop a bank robbery on 5th before a track meet.


    Those days were long past me. Cassie walked in first, and seeing her in person, seeing her in a place like this, didn¡¯t feel real to me. She was always behind a tv screen, or hiding behind her profile picture on social media as she dragged my name through the mud. She was tall, just about as tall as mom, wearing a red turtleneck and slim black trousers, short, flat heels that clicked against the floor, and this air about her that reeked of wealth. She was the kind of rich that didn¡¯t need to wear gold or silver or have a fancy watch, because someone else carried those for her. She was the kind of rich that filled my nose with foreign, exotic smells. The kind that sweated thousand dollar perfumes, and wore bright red lipstick that didn¡¯t crack. Silky black hair with a tongue of white sliding just over her shoulder, and green eyes so bright, you might think she put jade in her skull.


    She wore a simple necklace, a thin piece of silver with a tiny diamond on the end of it. Her fingernails were short, clean and white, sharp, too, but they smelt of metal¡ªshe¡¯d been rubbing it.


    And then came Adam, the bastard, wearing the Olympiad¡¯s standard black and white suits, not looking any different from the last time I had left him with his face in the tarmac of a junction.


    But him being here made things worse. A lot worse. He would hear my heart, smell my sweat, and I didn¡¯t know if he could do what dad could and sense people who had our powers.


    I wanted to think he didn¡¯t have the powers dad and I shared, even though I didn¡¯t have the full set yet, but just look at him and his white hair and glacier-like eyes. He was a spitting image.


    Which made me sick to the stomach, because I didn¡¯t know what that meant for mom.


    One thing was clear, though: I had to leave, and soon, before Adam got me.


    ¡°Veronica,¡± Adam said, his voice clipping, eyes on her. ¡°It¡¯s good to¡ª¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s so important that I¡¯ve got to be surrounded by these god-awful creatures?¡± Cassie said, looking from Rett to Ronnie. ¡°I was in the midst of a very important conversation, too.¡±


    ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± Rett said, standing a little straighter. ¡°The generators had a problem after¡ª¡±


    ¡°The break in, yes. I know. You either tell me you¡¯ve found who managed to slip past millions of dollars worth of security in the blink of an eye, or you keep your mouth shut, captain.¡±


    ¡°Haven¡¯t had your milk yet, have you?¡± mom muttered, but it was too quiet for Cassie to hear. Loud enough, though, for both Adam and I to grunt. ¡°The failure would have been a disaster for the program, Cassidy. The power required to continuously monitor each individual cage is crucial in making sure that none of them die, or none of them escape, and I¡¯m more than sure that you wouldn¡¯t want monsters regurgitating right out of the front door.¡± Mom faced her, looked her dead in the eyes, and said, ¡°This isn¡¯t some problem you let your cronies handle, or something you have Corina write down on a sticky note. We¡¯ve had a break in, and someone is in here. Now, it could be stupid kid, or a Supe who wants to get dirt on you, or someone, Cassie, who wants the truth.¡± The air had changed, becoming colder. Cassie just stared at her. ¡°We need your father.¡±


    And now she blinked. ¡°Why would you bother calling some decrepit old fool?¡±


    ¡°Because he would understand what magnitude of fucked we¡¯re in right now.¡±


    Cassie stood still for a moment, then smiled a little, laughed a touch. ¡°God, Veronica,¡± she said, ¡°you¡¯re so scary when you¡¯re serious, but a fucking break in isn¡¯t going to change my day.¡±


    ¡°Ma¡¯am, if I can pitch in,¡± Rett said. ¡°This is going to be classified as a code scarlet.¡±


    ¡°Then why am I paying you so much to tell me that when you could be handling it like a code scarlet, Rett?¡± she asked in a voice you¡¯d use to tell off a child, as if he was stupid. ¡°Go on. Go handle it, because I have very important things to do, and these things can always be replaced.¡±


    She sounded very much like someone I knew and hated. Couldn¡¯t think of a name, though.


    ¡°It¡¯s not about replacing them, Cassidy, but understanding why Ambrosia affects them this way,¡± mom said. I knew I needed to leave, to go right freaking now. Adam frowned, tilted his head to the beams. ¡°I know your goal is the bottom line, the billions you¡¯ll make when you churn out a cure for the Kaiju, but killing off our test subjects every second day only slows the whole thing.¡±


    Cassie walked toward her, heels clicking. She stopped just inches away from mom, not looking down her nose at her, but looking straight at her. ¡°I know what you can do, V. I know that if you wanted, you¡¯d have finished months ago and we wouldn¡¯t be having this conversation, but for some reason, you¡¯re stalling. Why is that? Does it hurt your morals? Your hippocratic oath or whatever? Get off your high horse, darling, and get back to fucking work. Rett will handle the break in, and you¡¯ll make sure we get what we want, no matter the case, okay?¡± She turned to look at the cages, at the monsters slamming their bodies and tentacles against it, leaving blood on the glass. ¡°I¡¯m not stupid, you know. Graduated top of my class since I learnt how to talk. Even I know that Kaiju and Ambrosia become a common animal: this thing, no matter the previous Evolution. So no, V, I am not stupid, and nor am I the air head you think I am.¡± She turned to face my mom again, smiling. ¡°So figure it out, there are poor, poor people dying out on those streets.¡±


    ¡°Hold on,¡± Adam said. ¡°Those cured people I saw last week turned into these?¡±


    ¡°Seems so,¡± Cassie muttered. ¡°Shame, isn¡¯t it? Less hands to give out their money. Not even charging them for their healthcare! So you can feel good about that at the very least, Ronnie.¡±


    I hated the way my mom¡¯s name sounded out of her mouth. It sounded too similar to the way Ava said it, and Gods, if there was anything I hated more in this world, it was listening to the names of people I cared about get thrown around. But Adam wasn¡¯t looking for me anymore, and I didn¡¯t want to make a big deal out of this, so I swallowed my anger and stayed perfectly still.


    But¡­holy hell, a cure for the Kaiju? Mom was kinda doing something good here.


    ¡°On the other hand,¡± Cassie said quietly, walking up to one of the cages, past the line, right up close to the monster that shrunk when she got close. The pasty puddle of organs and tentacles crawled to the back of the cage, as if they were terrified of her eyes. ¡°If the person really is in here, Veronica, then you¡¯d have no problem dealing with them, or else your darling little daughter would find out what mommy is up to at her big job. Nobody likes a serial murderer, no matter the cause. Think of the children, Ronnie! The children! Don¡¯t break your daughter¡¯s fragile little heart just because some idiot Supe got into my building without a single one of you being able to find them.¡±


    I remained quiet, watching as Cassie swept her eyes over the other cages, and each of the things inside of them scurried away from her, as if the damned things were traumatized by her.


    Then she stopped walking along the glass cages, halting underneath me, looking down the dark tunnel. Don¡¯t move, Ry. I held my breath. Slowed my breathing. Rett started toward her until she held up her hand, making him stay in place. Adam came instead, floating through the air, arms still folded over his chest, making him look like he was some chess piece being dragged across the board. Fuck. Just feet away from him now. A bead of sweat, a scent, a sound, would make him look up. It wasn¡¯t the time for me to start feeling hungry, or for my heart to start beating faster.


    I blinked slowly, making sure I was quiet.


    He was gone from underneath me.


    But behind me in a split second. ¡°Found you.¡±

 Issue #36: A Helping Hand Part One

    Adam didn¡¯t even give me the chance to reason with him, which was fair, because I doubt I would have. I was on the floor in a second, slamming into thick concrete with his knee digging between my shoulder blades and enough force to make the glass cages rattle. Gods, the bastard hits hard. I swallowed spit and blood, tried to move, to get him off my spinal column, but he was on me with more than just his weight, but his flight, too, pinning me right underneath Cassis¡¯s stunned eyes.


    She stared down at me, neither a smile or a frown on her face, but a look of slight anger, and maybe a little bit of frustration that I was smearing my sweat all over her floor. ¡°Olympia?¡± Cassie said, as if testing out my name, seeing if it really was me at her feet. I struggled underneath Adam. Mom was watching me, standing just a few feet away. Couldn¡¯t tell where she was looking, or what emotion was on her face¡ªAdam had his hand against the back of my head, keeping me where he wanted. ¡°My God, you actually had the nerve to break into my building.¡±


    ¡°You left the backdoor open,¡± I grunted. Adam pushed my face harder against the concrete, so hard it cracked underneath me, making me wince. ¡°Wanted to check out your basement, Cass.¡±


    Her eyes sharepend briefly, then calmed. ¡°Adam,¡± she said. ¡°Let her stand up.¡±


    We both paused, then he said, ¡°She¡¯s a threat. A murderer. You know what she¡¯d do¡ª¡±


    ¡°Get off the girl,¡± she ordered, her voice not any louder or more emotional, just plain, harsh, stating something he needed to listen to, ¡°and stand behind her. Don¡¯t wait. Now, Adam.¡±


    He didn¡¯t move. I curled my hand into a fist, figuring that if Adam did want to show me who he thought he was again, it would probably be right now. I caught him looking at mom in the reflection of one of the glass cages, but she wasn¡¯t looking at him or me, but at Cassie instead. Adam¡¯s grip only tightened around my wrist, making the skin under my suit burn. He was a vice, a weight that was making the floor splinter the longer we stayed together. I¡¯d never heard of this freaking guy before the boardwalk, but he looked like dad and had the strength flowing in his hand and arms. Fuck, it was the way he crouched on top of me, pinning me, forcing the air out of my lungs. Everything screamed fake. Fraud. Liar. He said what they wanted him to say on tv, and he made waves on socials because of course he would, he looked just like the guy with the statue.


    Adam fought, however, the same way a training dummy would fight. Boring. Predictable. He¡¯d been taught these things by people who¡¯d never had the guts in them to actually fight him.


    There was one thing he wouldn¡¯t have done if he was actually my brother, too.


    Or a clone, or whatever it is that he was.


    And that was listening to orders, ¡®cause we¡¯re usually stubborn like that.


    When Cassie tilted her head, waiting for him to release me, his grip shifted, maybe not to let me go, maybe to keep arguing his point, but it didn¡¯t matter; his balance was off his center, and soon enough, I shoved my weight upward, forcing him to the right of me. He held on tighter, tried to get a better handle on me, but he was so stiff, so¡­trained, that he didn¡¯t expect when I swung my legs around, propelled by my flight, to spin myself upward into the air from the feet up. I tore free from his hands, floating above him, massaging my wrists as I watched him stand, fists tight, and his eyes still not glowing. For a moment, it felt like the world was holding its breath. Two Damage Control soldiers had taken position in front of mom, and the rest had their rifles on me.


    I knew those weren¡¯t normal rifles, and knew they¡¯d pack a hell of a punch.


    But, for once, I figured that antagonizing Adam for the hell of it wasn¡¯t worth my time, because, well, I¡¯d already beaten him once as Tempest. I¡¯d kill him as Olympia. At least, that¡¯s what I wanted to convince myself of, just so my throat wouldn¡¯t be so dry and my stomach so tight. What, not good enough for your all? No glowing eyes, no flashes of golden light around his body. Just a spitting image of my father with murder in his eyes staring up at me, silent, ready.


    Just to get one on him, I said, ¡°Listen to her next time. Maybe she¡¯ll give you a treat.¡±


    He didn¡¯t take to it. Perfectly still, his heart slow, his blood even slower in my ears. The Admiral would have loved him; loved how he hadn¡¯t blinked in nearly two minutes, and how he kept his feet planted firmly onto the floor with his flight, making it dent with his weight, too. I tried to keep my heart beat calm as well, because I knew he could hear it, and could probably smell the first droplet of fear that would leak from any pore. I wasn¡¯t going to fight him, because he was a superhero, even if just in the legal sense, but I had no business screwing with the Olympiad. I waited for him to stop staring, to unclench his hands so he didn¡¯t have blood seeping from them.


    Adam trained me like he really was just some dog on a leash, waiting to attack.


    ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± Rett said to Cassie. ¡°I¡¯d advise you to step back, and leave through¡ª¡±


    ¡°And miss the opportunity to watch them try to kill each other?¡± she said incredulously, not even looking at him, but at me. ¡°I was in Olympus West when Zeus died, and only saw it on my phone. This, however, is history, Rett. Two pure-blooded superheroes in my building, glaring daggers at each other, and my God the air is just buzzing with this¡­this energy, this feeling, Rett, and I wouldn¡¯t ever forgive myself for missing this.¡± She smiled up at me. ¡°Now come down here, and do what you usually do to people like me. Hit me. Kill me. I¡¯ve got people in cages that die every other day, and have dozens more superhumans in my prisons that my own mother sends me to hunt down. Heck, I don¡¯t even know if they¡¯re good or not! I just do it because it means my mother can say she¡¯s doing something about the crime here. So, Olympia, sneeze and blow my intestines right out. Flick my ear and blow half my face clean off.¡± Cassie stepped past Adam, now just underneath me, spreading her arms as she said, ¡°Do as I say, and do your thing, superhero.¡±


    My saliva turned bitter as I stared into her green eyes. My skin crawled the longer she stared at me, like something vile was running through my blood. ¡°I¡¯d rather not,¡± I said quietly.


    ¡°Oh?¡± she said, sounding just a little hurt. ¡°Do I not fit your criteria?¡±


    ¡°I just got a new suit, and I¡¯d hate to cover it in you, of all people.¡±


    Cassie¡¯s arms dropped to her sides, but she kept staring at me, kept looking right through me. Gods, I hate her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll admit, I¡¯m only a little disappointed. What really constitutes a supervillain, then? You only kill the bad people, that¡¯s what we¡¯ve all figured out, but the rich people who take advantage of the poor are a stretch too far? Does someone like Gladiator have to own a few orphanages and charities to rule himself off your list?¡± She put her hands on her hips, shaking her head. ¡°You¡¯re a mess of morals that just don¡¯t make sense to me. I could blow up one of my factories at clock-in, and use the rubble to build an orphanage for all those lonely children.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your point here?¡± I said, heat in my voice.


    ¡°Those.¡± Cassie pointed at the cages, at the monsters. ¡°What do you think we¡¯re doing?¡±


    ¡°Hurting innocent people,¡± I said. ¡°Experimenting and killing them for your own gain.¡±


    She spoke over her shoulder. ¡°V, explain to Olympia what we¡¯re doing.¡±


    ¡°Cassie¡ª¡±


    ¡°For fuck sake, Veronica. Just follow orders for once.¡±


    And now I looked at my mom, standing behind two soldiers who had their guns on me, and the same person who¡¯d ruffle my hair and kiss my forehead goodnight. I couldn¡¯t handle those thoughts right now, so I shelved them, and pretended to be who was wearing the suit right now.


    ¡°We¡­¡± Ronnie¡¯s voice faltered, and I felt my face soften. ¡°We¡¯re solving a problem.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re solving a problem!¡± Cassie said to me. ¡°We¡¯re doing something you can¡¯t.¡±


    My brows furrowed. ¡°The media are gonna have a field day hearing about this.¡±


    ¡°The same media that are part of my corporate umbrella?¡± she asked. My stomach sank, and she saw it, because the smile was soon back on her face, along with a shake of her head. ¡°Wow, you¡¯ve got no idea how any of this works, do you? Well, let me break it down for you. You break into my facility, you damage my property, and you leak confidential files that cannot be verified as ours, and then what? You save the day? How? I mean, heck, take one of these cages if you¡¯d like, show it off to everyone, but you¡¯re gonna have to kill dozens of my people to even get it to the first access point, and oh, boy, that¡¯s a hell of a lot of guts to get through. And then you have an unstable monster on your hands, and you¡¯re gonna go drop it off, where, the SDU? FBI? CIA? Some goddamn off-shore laboratory that won¡¯t even know what they¡¯re looking at until it kills them? And that¡¯s even if the thing survives that long without dying for no reason at all.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re keeping these people locked in cages so you can experiment on them,¡± I spat.


    Mom flinched, but Cassie only laughed a little. ¡°Yeah, and? You can¡¯t help them without having to do that, Olympia. My God, it¡¯s like talking to a child. You know what? I can see it on your face, so let me clue you in on something: you¡¯re a novelty. A thing that people want to point at when you stop a bank robbery, a murder, or a terrorist attack, because you¡¯re the collection of pretty colors and a flashy smile, grit and good old American determination. Hell, you even got a cape! Look at you, you¡¯re an advertisement. The public hates you, but they want to love you. Why? Simple. You make them feel good, but only when you¡¯re not going around being a problem, and suddenly you¡¯re the thing that my people have to be briefed about, and citizens have rallies planned against you.¡± Her smile softened, but her eyes still sparkled. ¡°You want to be the new big thing, but in reality, Olympia¡ªyou¡¯re a girl who just doesn¡¯t have a single purpose in this world.¡±


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°I¡¯m a superhero,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve got plenty of fucking purpose.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure all the cats dangling from tree branches just can¡¯t wait to be saved.¡±


    ¡°Listen,¡± I growled, floating a little lower, closer to her eye level. ¡°You can vomit up as much nonsense as you want, but whatever the case, there¡¯s a problem in my city right now¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh my God!¡± Cassie said, then laughed in my face. My eyes narrowed when she slapped my shoulder. ¡°You came all the way here, because you thought you were going to help them?¡± She kept laughing, kept holding her stomach, bending over. Adam stared at her, and so did Rett. Mom was finally looking at me, her face a mask as Cassie straightened back up. ¡°You never plan a single thing in your life, do you? Just gut instinct and those two meat sacks at the end of your arms. Look, O, let¡¯s be real with each other for a second. What was your goal, breaking in here tonight, really?¡±


    The silence lasted, hanging like fumes between us. She had my heart going, my stomach turning, and my blood whining past my ears, but she wanted me to act out, wanted me to do what she so badly wanted me to do (and what I so deeply wanted to do) to her and kill her on the spot.


    ¡°Amy,¡± I said to Cassie. ¡°There was a girl named Amy who died just a few hours ago because she turned into one of those things next to me, and I¡¯ve got reason to believe that¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m the one behind it, right? That¡¯s what you¡¯re gonna say?¡±


    I remained silent, biting my tongue.


    Cassie patted my shoulder again, squeezed. ¡°You¡¯re here because you want to make yourself feel better, and that¡¯s perfectly fine, because you¡¯re a terrible superhero. You seem to be always working, but nothing ever gets any better. So why don¡¯t you leave the real work to the grown ups, and you can¡­go and cause a catastrophe by failing to stop thugs from stealing gold.¡± She shook her head, turning her back to me and walking away. ¡°She wants to save the entire city, and wants to start by saving the monsters. Go find some teenager to impress. Exit¡¯s behind you.¡±


    ¡°Then why talk so much about me on the news if you hate me this much?¡± I whispered.


    She paused, shrugged, and said, ¡°Because it¡¯s a shame that you are Zeus¡¯ daughter. I don¡¯t much like you superhumans, but let¡¯s face the facts: you could be great, but you¡¯re just¡­you.¡±


    I stared at her, able to see the veins in her eyes, the faintest haze of sweat just under her jaw. Right about then, several people in that room knew what I wanted to do. One stood behind me, his presence alone telling me to relax my shoulders and unclench my hands. The other was the woman with the glasses, the one with the blonde hair and tired eyes that were whispering no to me from the reflection in the monsters¡¯ cages. Twice, that¡¯s how many times I¡¯d come across someone who sounded just like Cassie this summer alone. Someone who thought they knew better, someone who figured they could tell me how bad I was at my job, but who the hell were they to tell me about it?


    One of them was a supervillain¡¯s daughter.


    And the other kept Kaiju in her basement.


    Angry? Sure. Wanted to see how those eyes would look on my palm? Maybe.


    But the SDU was getting all of this, or at least some of it from my suit. My stomach wanted me to fight. The blood I inherited from the people in the stars made me want to kill her right here.


    I slowly breathed in, though, and sighed. ¡°You¡¯re full of shit. I can hear your heartbeat.¡±


    It hadn¡¯t slowed for a second ever since Adam had put me at her feet. Humans sweat varied in smell once you learnt the difference, and her excitement was turning into something else the longer I hovered just high enough for Cassie to look up at me. Villains smelt the same when I found them. Human criminals bled the stuff in gallons. I didn¡¯t give a damn what words she regurgitated, because she was holding these things captive to take them apart, to experiment on them. If she had to learn anything about them, then she should have told people what she was doing. So far, that little security breach conversation had just been talk of someone learning about this, not about these things escaping. Cassie said she wanted to help these people, to cure them.


    That didn¡¯t explain why she was hiding this info from the SDU and the government.


    And why she was more afraid of anyone finding out than them escaping. Bluff.


    I was in front of Cassie the second it took for her to blink and then gasp when she saw me inches away, getting shoved back by the gust. The hum of rifles filled the air behind me. Adam¡¯s faster heartbeat drummed in my ears. He shifted a few steps, widening his stance a little bit more.


    ¡°Killing you would be like stepping on an ant,¡± I said. ¡°Pointless. What we¡¯re going to do is talk very, very high up in the atmosphere, and if you¡¯re stubborn, fine. Your dog will save you.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Or whatever¡¯s left of you. It¡¯s a long way down, and the Earth is pretty damn hard.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re threatening to kill me?¡± she asked. ¡°Don¡¯t you know the chaos you¡¯d start?¡±


    ¡°Who cares about any of that?¡± I said, leaning closer. ¡°You stink of fear, Cassandra.¡±


    She didn¡¯t want to die, it was as simple as that. She wasn¡¯t Ava. She wasn¡¯t a Super.


    Cassie Blackwood didn¡¯t want to die by the hands of someone she hated, and I only knew that because hell, would anyone? She knew that, and I knew that¡ªI could see it on her face.


    When I grabbed her arm, I made the mistake of turning my back on her so I could shoot my way out of the tunnel. Adam¡¯s fist appeared inches from my face just as I started forward. He hit me square in the jaw, cracking me across the face so hard blood gushed into my mouth as my teeth slammed into my tongue. I stumbled, my head whining. Hot iron flowing down my throat. Fuck. I shook my head, spat out a loose canine that skittered onto the floor, stopping next to his feet. He stared at me, and all I could do was stare back, my left hand still gripping Cassie¡¯s arm, my right hand a fist. The Damage Control soldiers watched us intensely. Adam was too close to Cassie for them to fire off their humming golden beams of light; they didn¡¯t want to turn their boss into paste.


    Adam didn¡¯t care.


    He launched forward. I expected another hook, so I ducked, then found his knee arching upward and crashing into my jaw, violently snapping my head back. He continued upward, then came down hard with his heel, connecting it to the back of my head and slamming me face-first into the floor. Concrete. Grit in my mouth. Bitter saliva. Blinked, shook the rubble and jumbled thoughts loose from my head, got on all fours, and couldn¡¯t help but rocket toward his legs, tackling him, sending us both skidding along the floor and smashing through one, two, three desks and research benches until he flipped himself over and shot into the air. I didn¡¯t follow. I watched, eyeing Cassie, who now had Rett in front of her, nearing the elevators. Mom was already there, but only through force as the soldiers clutched onto her wrists and dragged her away, barking orders.


    But I wanted Cassie. I needed her now. This close to finally understanding something, and she was just a few bodies away from where I was standing, panting, bleeding from her right now.


    I¡¯d let Ava prance around the city for too long, and look where that had gotten me.


    Cassie would break if I squeezed her. She couldn¡¯t put herself back together. Didn¡¯t have the ability to stuff her goodies back inside. I wouldn¡¯t kill her¡ªI just wanted to make her talk.


    I made it two dozen feet before Adam grabbed my ankle, swung me around, and slammed me into the side of a support pillar. Concrete dust rained down from above as the column shuddered. He grabbed my cape and threw me over his shoulder, not letting go as he made a noose around my throat with it and began yanking, pulling, twisting so hard that my face and lungs began to burn red and hot. I clawed at the fabric, frantic, rushed, then at his hands, his fingers, until I got a good hold of his index and snapped it, tugging it so hard that the skin tore and blood gushed. He screamed and let go. I gasped and coughed, wheezing as saliva dribbled out of my mouth. On my hands and knees, dazed, dizzy, spluttering¡ªCassie closer to the elevator, inside of it. No, not so easily. This time, I made it to her, and this time, Adam wasn¡¯t fast enough to stop me from ripping her free from Rett and throwing her against an upturned research desk, leaving her limp and weak.


    ¡°Olympia!¡± mom said. I snapped around, her voice like a gust of wind clearing the fog. I¡¯d forgotten she was here, forgotten she¡¯d just seen me snap someone¡¯s finger around so terribly it hung from loose skin. I stared at her, at her wide eyes, and how she was looking at her boss.


    She wasn¡¯t dead, knew she wasn¡¯t. Not even out cold. She was groaning, trying to pick herself up, now halfway between Adam and myself. I was panting, and so was he. My face burned, and his cheeks were a scalding scarlet color, making his stark, tousled white hair bright.


    ¡°Wait!¡± mom shouted, getting between us. She turned to me. ¡°I can¡­I can give you what you want, okay? But you¡¯ve got to leave and never come back here. Just no more fighting.¡±


    ¡°Veronica,¡± Adam shouted across the vast space. ¡°You can¡¯t reason with her.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want you,¡± I said bitterly. ¡°I want Cassie Blackwood.¡±


    ¡°I know more than she does about this program. Please, just listen to me before¡ª¡±


    ¡°What the fuck does a lapdog involved in this know?¡± I spat. She blinked, took half a step back as I began to hover. ¡°You¡¯re complacent to this mess. I want the one who bankrolls this.¡±


    Then, quietly, she whispered, ¡°You¡¯ll get yourself killed fighting him. Listen for once.¡±


    Golden sparks flickered around my hands as I stared dead at Adam. ¡°Get the fuck out of the way, because if you want all this fighting to stop, tell the superhero to do the smart thing.¡±


    ¡°I already have,¡± she said softly.


    My brows furrowed. I looked down at her. You still don¡¯t believe in me at all, do you?


    She believed in that thing in front of me more. The thing that looked like her husband, the thing that looked like my dad¡ªthe same fucking thing that was stopping me from doing good.


    Adam knew my mom, and she did, too. She¡¯d lied to me about him for my entire life. How long had she known? Had my dad known about this? Gods, what the fuck was her problem? What did she want me to do right now? Leave this all behind, fly out of the tunnel and just forget about it? Maybe it was the bitter taste of blood in my mouth, or the blood whining past my ears, raging in my heart, but what kind of person was I going to be if I just let this happen? I used to defeat villains every other day. Then Ava came along, and I¡¯d done nothing but make stupid mistakes, and hadn¡¯t done a lick of good for anyone in weeks. I had an opportunity stumbling onto her feet tonight to change all of that. Just like Cassie had said to me, I would just be solving a problem.


    And I¡¯d had enough of people getting in the way of that.


    I ignored Adam, mom, and went for Cassie. The white-haired bastard drove right into my ribs, smashing us both into the wall. I shoved him off, slammed my fist into his gut, his jaw, he grabbed both my wrists, and I slammed my forehead against his nose, making blood spit through the air. He stumbled. I swung my fist and dug my knuckles into his throat. Grabbed his hair, swung him, and paid him the fucking favor and drove his face into the same dent I made in the concrete. Again. And again. Until there was blood on the stone and on my suit, on his white shirt and my golden lightning bolt. I let go of his hair, but he didn¡¯t fall, didn¡¯t crumple¡ªhe landed on one knee, breathing deeply, blood streaming from his nose and mouth. Still no flash of golden light. Still no yellow electricity. Mom was staring at us, wide-eyed. Didn¡¯t matter. Cassie was staring right at me.


    Adam swore, his words and voice garbled by the tide of blood he spat.


    I put my heel to his spine, forcing him hard onto the floor, making him groan.


    Then I walked two steps forward, and one of the soldiers, someone young, someone who¡¯s finger had been twitching on the trigger, ran forward, stopped suddenly, let out a shrieking cry and pulled the trigger, making the gun roar a dull and agonizing thunderous sound. I shot one step out of the way, the yellow beam of energy burning the air right beside me so dry that my throat ached. I watched it slam into the far, far end of the underground laboratory somewhere behind me, melting the concrete into white-hot sludge, chewing away most of it until it burst into small violent flames.


    I glared at the soldier, watched as he took a step back, the gun rattling in his hands.


    ¡°Should¡¯ve hit me the first time.¡±

 Issue #37: A Helping Hand Part Two

    ¡°Wait!¡± Cassie said. I stopped myself from walking forward. Her hand tentatively pressed against her side, and judging by her weak breathing, a few broken ribs were jutting against her lungs. ¡°Fine. You¡¯ve proven your point. You¡¯re stronger. You¡¯re faster. Congratulations for damaging government property until it bled all over my floor. But we need to keep these god awful creatures down here for a reason, Olympia. Humanity would never have made it this far if we never cut up our dead to learn from them. You think that I want these things here, so close to my own office? We¡¯re learning how to treat them, how they work, and that can¡¯t happen if you trash this place.¡±


    ¡°Then why not tell the government?¡± I said. ¡°Why keep it a secret?¡±


    ¡°You know the public. They¡¯d get terrified of everything here.¡±


    That didn¡¯t answer my question.


    I narrowed my eyes. Cassie only stared right back at me. ¡°The Ambrosia Project.¡±


    Silence. I waited for her to speak. Finally, she said, ¡°We¡¯re a pharmaceutical company. We deal in medicinal drugs, derived from superhumans or otherwise, because it¡¯s profitable to us.¡±


    ¡°What the hell does that have to do with not even curing these people but leaving them in cages to rot and die?¡± I said, my voice hotter, louder. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like you¡¯re healing anyone.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re trying to help them!¡±


    I¡¯d had enough of hearing about this. ¡°Yeah?¡± I said. ¡°Tell that to the SDU.¡±


    Then she smiled, and I saw a flash of movement reflect in her eyes. I spun, and my gut caved in as Adam¡¯s knuckles dug deep into my stomach. Air exploded from my lungs and rushed right up my throat and out of my mouth, dragging blood and saliva with it. The world blurred. Shook. He swung again, smashing his fist against my face, my ribs. Still no golden light. Still more blood flowing from his mouth, his nose, and now mine, too, when he slammed the heel of his palm hard against my face. Metal gushed down my throat as I stumbled back. I licked my lips. Then spat, trying not to be sick at the taste. Adam stood in front of me, fists raised, blood running down his hands and bleeding into the sleeves of his white shirt. I knuckled the blood away, then spared a glance behind me, at Cassie watching almost gleefully, and mom, stiff as a corpse as she stared at Adam, shaking her head so gently you might have thought a gust of wind was blowing her hair.


    I looked at him, swallowed hot liquid iron. ¡°I¡¯m trying to do the right thing here.¡±


    ¡°Right thing?¡± he asked. ¡°You want to threaten the one person trying to save these people, whilst all you ever do is get people killed. You murder civilians whenever you try to save the day, Olympia, and stopping everything here would just mean more innocent people get hurt. Look at you, Zeus¡¯ daughter, so proud and mighty, but he¡¯d probably kill you if he was still alive to see it.¡±


    My fists tightened, fingernails digging into the meat of my hand. ¡°How would you know?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s what I want to do,¡± he said, then rolled a shoulder. ¡°You¡¯d be doing the world a favor if you just keeled over and died. What good are you, really? If it wasn¡¯t for the heritage, for that symbol you stole off a dead man, then you¡¯d just be some higher-than-thou chick deciding the fate of the city because nobody can stop her. You¡¯re fucking pathetic. The Olympiad knows that. The public knows. You know that.¡± His voice dropped, getting deeper, quieter. ¡°You¡¯re a villain at heart, but nobody ever wants to say it because we all know how quickly you¡¯d spark off against them. They tolerate you because they¡¯re afraid of you, not because they respect you or love you.¡±


    ¡°Villain?¡± I whispered. An arc of light jumped between my fingers. ¡°I save people.¡±


    ¡°You want to control this city, to make sure it¡¯s spotless,¡± he spat. ¡°Villains tell that lie.¡±


    ¡°I make decisions for New Olympus because it¡¯s my birthright.¡±


    ¡°You make decisions for this city because you know that the worst thing that can happen to you if you fuck up is someone calling you names on the news,¡± he said. ¡°That¡¯s gonna change.¡±


    The floor splintered underneath his flight. No movement. Not yet. Glaring death at me.


    ¡°I don¡¯t fight superheroes,¡± I said quietly. ¡°But you¡¯re defending a monster.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d be killing one,¡± he whispered, ¡°and doing this city a damned good deed.¡±


    If mom had anything to say to stop us, I couldn¡¯t hear it over the sound of smashing concrete when I put Adam halfway through the wall behind him. Rubble gushed out from the wall, same with his blood and his spit, and a gasping wheeze of a curse when I punched him once, twice, three times in the ribs so hard that his shirt tore and his skin split open. He grabbed my wrist, twisted. I cried out, then my teeth sank into the meat of my tongue when he smashed his elbow across my jaw. Fuck. It hurt. I swallowed, spat blood on his face, in his eyes. He froze for a second, and I smacked my forehead against the bridge of his nose, then sank my teeth into his ear and came away with a piece. He shrieked, then hit me, hit me again in the chest, winding me. He grabbed my arm and spun me around, smacking me into the wall, then darted upward and used me to carve through concrete until we reached the ceiling. The wind blew out of me as he dug both his fists into my stomach, let me fall an inch, then shot right back up toward the ceiling, slamming me against it.


    Fluorescents crashed onto the floor, their metal chains snapping as the ceiling shuddered. Glass exploded all over the ground, cutting through clothes. Metal shrieked as Adam threw me through the air, breaking apart high beams dangling from the ceiling, sending them crashing into piles below me, one after the other, skipping across them until a sturdy beam bent with my impact.


    I groaned, pain lancing through my body with each breath I took. I clambered onto the beam, falling onto one knee, my head a dizzy, pulsating mess, and my mouth filled with blood.


    Adam floated just feet away from me, watching me pant and glare and curse.


    ¡°You can always give up,¡± he said. ¡°Always find another hill to die on.¡±


    ¡°And who the hell do you think you are to tell me to do that?¡± I spat.


    He didn¡¯t answer me. His fist was an inch away from my jaw when I blinked.


    I dodged, letting him slip past me. I grabbed his arm, twisted his body over my shoulder, and drove him hard back onto the floor, straight through a metal bench that disintegrated under the impact. I dove on him, heat in my blood, crimson screaming in my ears as I planted my fist into his mouth, his face, his jaw, wove my fingers together and smashed them square down the fucking middle hard enough for blood to gush in a short fountain onto my chest. I tasted it, the bitter liquid pouring from his face. Saw how it sizzled and steamed on my fists and the lightning bolt he said I had stolen. The same bolt of lightning that burned bright gold as I stood up, swaying onto my feet, picked him up by the collar, pivoted on my heels, and threw Adam across the warehouse and into the elevator, crumpling the metal, shattering the lights, bathing him in sparks and shards as he crumpled into a heap. I breathed hard. So hard that it hurt. I turned slowly to look at Cassie.


    She hadn¡¯t moved, hadn¡¯t even glanced over her shoulder to look at Adam.


    She was staring at me, her mouth ever-so-slightly open.


    Mom remained silent, her face blank and mouth sealed.


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna do as you¡¯re told,¡± I said to Cassie, ¡°or risk losing an arm or two.¡±


    Rett¡¯s soldiers leveled their sleek rifles at me, those golden beams of light making my stomach twist as they brightened the laboratory. Their hum was a silent scream, like some banshee¡¯s warning cry that only I could hear. It hurt to listen to, and would hurt even more getting hit by one.


    And all the while, that golden light made Cassie a silhouette. Slender, elegant, her eyes cast in shadows, and the blood on her teeth glossy and wet, like she¡¯d just sank her canines into a neck.


    Then Adam stood.


    He rose, hovering in the elevator, shoving metal and shattered ceramic off his shoulders. His hair was a mess, matted in blood and grit. His shirt was filthy. His teeth were lined with black dust and scarlet blood. Adam¡¯s eyes were still pale, still not glowing. Just above the soldiers, that¡¯s where he was, as if they were his frontline, his little fucking army of protectors. The boy wearing my father¡¯s face had eyes like daggers and a slit-thin mouth, a tensed jaw and low brow. There was death in his eyes, brewing in his stomach, flooding his veins. I could smell it. Hear his heart pump it through his body. He wanted to fight? Fine. He wanted to get his shit kicked in infront of the people who thought he could beat me? That was his embarrassment to bathe in. My goal tonight was Cassie Blackwood by any means necessary. I¡¯d fought tougher. Survived far, far worse than him. I wasn¡¯t afraid, hell, a part of me almost wanted to smile, to tell him to fucking try to kill me.


    Zeus had one child. A sole off-spring. I didn¡¯t care what they said about me.


    I was proud of it, and I was going to make them know that.


    My boot shuffled through the rubble at my feet. I lowered a little as tendrils of light raced up my arms and shoulders. The soldiers tensed. Their hearts raced. Then, as one, they fired at me.


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    A rushing wave of torrential golden heat consumed the space between us, swallowing the darkness and making the Kaiju shriek a terrible sound. I shot upward, high enough to avoid them, but Adam was waiting, already there before I¡¯d even gotten past the beams, and punched me back down to the floor, right back into their path. No time to react. No time to gasp, to cross my forearms and shoulder the blast. I braced, then the collective beam of golden light slammed into my chest, and it felt like the Emperor himself had caved my chest in. My skin erupted in agony, like I¡¯d just been dipped into liquid hellfire. I wheezed, sucking in dry air. Where? Sludge. Pasty sludge and a weak body, whining noise echoing through my mind, my head, rattling around my tender brain.


    I tried to breathe. Couldn¡¯t. Wanted to puke, but choked on my own tongue. I rolled over, the sticky gray sludge doing me no favors. Pain. Moving. Breathing. I collapsed onto my chest, half my face in the steaming muck. My arms shook, trembled, as I tried to pick myself up. Fuck, Ry, come on, don¡¯t give out. Adam¡¯s shoes just above me. A hand knotting through my hair, tight in a fist, yanking me off the floor, out of the liquified reinforced concrete, so I could face him. I felt sapped, weak, so drained that I could barely form a thought. Might¡¯ve vomited, coughed blood and said something. Hot saliva dribbled down my chin, fell to the floor and evaporated in the heat. Something was shrieking, shrieking and shrieking and not stopping. The Kaiju. The one so close to us that I could see the fleshy blisters made from the heat popping on its skin, peeling back like angry red mushrooms blooming in spring. Tiny fires flickered around us. Smoke choked the air.


    ¡°She¡¯s still alive?¡± a voice asked quietly. I wasn¡¯t sure who¡ªCassie, I figured.


    ¡°Barely,¡± Adam said, almost disgusted. ¡°But I can still hear her heartbeat.¡±


    ¡°What¡­.¡± Mom said so silently I wasn¡¯t sure if my mind had conjured her voice or not.


    ¡°My friends down at Aegis Tech made them for me, V. You like?¡± Cassie asked.


    Silence, then, ¡°There¡¯s no weapon on Earth that can¡ª¡±


    ¡°Well, several just did,¡± Cassie said. ¡°The future is golden, Veronica, and it¡¯s stunning.¡±


    I forced my mouth to move, cracked, bloody, and dry lips aching with pain.


    Adam tilted his head, peering at me like I was roadkill. He pulled me closer, still using my hair. He stared into my eyes, but he was blurry, smudged and distorted. ¡°What did you just say?¡±


    ¡°Tell them¡­,¡± I said hoarsely, ¡°tell them to stop fucking talking, my head hurts.¡±


    His eyes narrowed, glaring. ¡°What¡¯ll it take for you to stop playing the part?¡±


    I wanted to give Adam a response he¡¯d remember, so I blew his eardrums out by slamming the heel of my hands against the sides of his head. He dropped me, screaming out in agony as he cupped his ears and the blood flowing out of them. I landed on my chest, which snatched away what little air I still had left in my lungs. On my hands and knees. On one knee. Panting, sweaty. Cassie smiled, smiled even wider as I swayed to my feet, stumbling, fighting for balance. Adam spun in the air, then fell, knocking against a research bench, leaving him in a crouch. His fingers dug into the side of his head, dug and dug until I was sure he¡¯d draw blood. Hurts, doesn¡¯t it? No flying. No balance. I wanted Cassie. Grabbed her shoulder and jerked her to my side, making her grit her teeth, suppressing whatever pain she felt. Rett paused his people. Mom took two steps, but I couldn¡¯t tell where exactly or who exactly she was planning on talking to or checking on. I watched her eyes flicker from Adam to me, to the screaming, mewling Kaiju behind us, and her boss, this woman who couldn¡¯t stop being so wide-eyed, so passionately engrossed in my being.


    ¡°You shoot,¡± I warned Rett, ¡°and you might just hit her, and nobody wants a dead CEO.¡±


    ¡°Rett,¡± Cassie said quickly. ¡°Tell them to shoot. Unload another round just as violent.¡±


    I didn¡¯t think they could if they wanted to. Those rifles were glowing red hot, the air around them dancing in lucid waves. Rett said, ¡°Olympia, let her go. You¡¯ve caused enough damage.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the one who put me through a fucking wall.¡±


    ¡°You bitch,¡± Adam snarled. ¡°You¡¯re no hero, you¡¯re just selfish.¡±


    ¡°What I am,¡± I said, trying and trying hard to stop the lingering pain in my chest from pausing my conscience, ¡°is better than you, Adam. I don¡¯t give a shit what you think, because at the end of the day, you¡¯re nothing but a lapdog that was never trained to be anything more than a show pony for those lazy bastards in the Olympiad. What you think means nothing to me, because I could pick you apart, bone-from-fucking-bone, Adam, and make everything you say worthless. Nobody¡¯s gonna remember you if you¡¯re dead, so sit this one out, before I stick my hand through your spine and leave you down there at my feet for the rest of your pathetic little fucking life.¡±


    I didn¡¯t kill superheroes, but Gods, this heat, this anger, this feeling in my body that curdled with the pain soaking through my skin was making it very, very hard for me to care about that.


    I¡¯d had a very bad day for two months now¡ªit was time I changed that the hard way.


    The white-haired bastard just didn¡¯t want to see me do that yet.


    He lunged at me, but it was unbalanced, his brain and body still reeling from his blown eardrums. It made him sloppy, made him slam into the cage just behind me as I spun him around with his own raging momentum. For several silent moments, my heart leaped into my throat. The glass cage rattled, shook, groaned as the beast touched it, but didn¡¯t break. It splintered. The tiniest of cracks slithered from the floor to the top, crawling across the glass pane. Adam stumbled, rage in his eyes, in his face, yanking back his jowls to reveal his teeth as he lunged at me again. This time he was accurate. This time, I pushed Cassie away just before he careened into me, sending us sliding through the burning hot sludge, along the floor until I rolled off him. Couldn¡¯t fly, not yet¡ªmy stomach was undulating up and down my throat. My head still rang. We were both grounded. Both staring death into each other¡¯s eyes as we picked ourselves off the cold hard floor.


    We stood breathing for several seconds, doing nothing but waiting, staring, watching.


    Then I exploded forward at him, using enough flight to carve the distance in half in just seconds. He did the same, slamming his fist into my mouth when we met, following through with a gut-wrenching uppercut to my midsection. I coughed saliva and a swear word laced with blood as I smashed my elbow against his temple. A hook from me. A jab from him. I swung him around by the shirt collar, smacking him against the floor, straddling him, going to work on his face, his jaw, loosening his lower molar so much and so suddenly it splintered and spat through the air. He bucked upward, tossing me off. We scrambled onto our feet, quick to murder, quick to draw more blood that splattered onto the floor, our clothes, the computers and the pillars and the glass cages filled with screaming Kaiju. Then Adam slowed. Just a fraction. Just enough for me to swing¡ª-


    I missed, he dodged.


    His foot arched through the air and felt like a cinder block against my skull.


    Stumbled, fell to one knee. Tried to get up. He stomped downward, his heel into my eye, snapping my head backward and smashing the back of my head against the floor. My body jerked. I moaned in pain, in slight confusion, as Adam got on top of me, fury in his snarl and ghost-pale eyes as he raised his fist, and then swung. Pain. He swung again, snapping my head to the left. Again and again until he became a blur of blood. The meaty thud of his knuckles against my face, of blood splattering onto the concrete. Silence. Pain. A wet, squelching smack. Then he stopped, breathed. I tried to move. Couldn¡¯t under his weight. Move, Rylee. Move now. My muscles quaked, and the sparks of light burned the blood into a dark red crust on my fingers. Then he hit me again, killing the light in my hands, shattering the concrete underneath us. He toppled over me, resting on his hands and knees, his sweat dribbled into my eyes, making them sting, mixing with the blood.


    I coughed, spluttered, blood splattering onto his chest. I couldn¡¯t see out of my right eye. He¡¯d slit the skin open, from my eyebrow to my cheek. It stung, hurt¡ªfuck, it was entirely dark.


    Adam glowered and rose, grabbing me by the cape and hauling me to my feet. He dragged me along the floor, leaving a trail of blood in my wake, until he threw me hard¡ªvery fucking hard¡ªagainst a wall. I slumped. He kept me upright with a kick to my gut. I tried to block his fist, but he shoved my hand aside and planted his knuckles into my ribs, my kidney, grabbed my torso and kneed me so hard that I fell to the floor, gasping for air through a throat that wanted to do nothing more than to squeeze tight and stop swallowing gallons of blood. I struggled to blink, to stay awake. He was saying something. Someone was screaming something. Everything was a blur, the noise, the colors, the sounds and the tastes. All disgusting. All painful. I wanted to switch off, but my body was on all fours, shuddering as it was, shaking as it tried to get back into the air.


    Adam helped me onto my feet, my throat clutched in his hand. He stared at me, then drew me closer, close enough for me to feel the warmth of his hot breath on my neck. ¡°I should kill you right here and now,¡± he said to me, his voice deep, gravelly, pained. ¡°But superheroes don¡¯t kill.¡±


    He threw me across the laboratory, making me skid across the floor. I came to a dead stop when I hit a concrete pillar, a final stab of agony shooting through my side. I lay there, weak, confused, my body so wracked with pain that breathing in just meant choking, swallowing, puking up saliva and blood and fragments of my own teeth. The world was flickering in and out of view, and those voices, those same damn voices I¡¯d been hearing since I¡¯d been with Witchling, were harrowing. An orchestra, no, an orgy of grotesque noise that filled my head, accusing me, berating me, hating me for lying here in a puddle of my own blood. I blinked, and that thing I had seen, that creature that had told me it had wanted something from me for years, vanished from view just as suddenly as it had appeared right behind my mom¡¯s hazy outline. I didn¡¯t want to shut my eyes. Didn¡¯t want to give in. Couldn¡¯t afford to let my body finally shut down after months of abuse.


    But my vision was dimming, ebbing and flowing. Darkness engulfed me once, then twice, and both times I sat beside myself, both times I watched the blood pouring from wounds, from swallowing gashes, smearing the floor crimson and dyeing my gear dark. They were right. Enough to be more than the creatures they saw procreating on this wet rock, but lesser than them. They were always right. An abomination that shouldn¡¯t have lived. A grotesque thing that crawled out of her mother¡¯s womb, only for her own people to reel away in disgust. And now this. A clone. A copy. A boy who hadn¡¯t once met my eyes with golden light flushing through his own, but was still just as fast, as strong¡ªstanding there above me, watching my fingers twitching, waiting for me to try and get back up so he could force me back down underneath the heel of his bloody-smattered sneakers.


    The Empire was built on the benefactors of our perfection¡ªyour flaws will cause us ruin.


    Always that little bit less. Just that bit more to give that I could never find.


    Adam forced his foot onto my back, snuffing my energy, taking my flickering golden light.


    They didn¡¯t want me on that planet. They didn¡¯t want me here. What the fuck did they want me to do? A cosmic fuck-up that was going to get the one piece of home she¡¯d carved for herself get taken away my the boy standing above her¡ªabove me. They hate me there because I¡¯m human, loathe me here because I¡¯m nothing like them. Gods. Gods. My hands shook and my fingers trembled. They accepted my father for what he was. Loved him. Cheered for him. Built a monument in his honor because he wasn¡¯t like them, but more than them, better than them, and then the humans did it, too, and spat in my face and told me they didn¡¯t want me, that I was their problem, their burden to carry. The blood on the floor simmered, burnt¡ªstank of hot iron that flooded my mouth with sickening saliva. All I wanted was to do good by them, to show them that I deserved a place on this godsforsaken planet just like the rest of them, and to hell with it, ¡®cause I was going to take it, make my own place amongst them¡ªmake them have no other choice but to accept it, accept me. I wasn¡¯t ever going to be like him, I knew that, but never wanted to accept it.


    But his blood was in my veins, more than my mother¡¯s ever was.


    I was more him than human, that was just a fucking fact.


    Adam swore when the blood around me began to bubble and froth, spit and stew and burn as if it had been lit up by some ferocious invisible flame. The heat that had been building in my gut and itching underneath my skin, almost burning it raw, simmered to the surface, flooding my veins and arteries and gushing through my entire body like a spring filled with golden electrical energy. He darted backward, putting a hand out in front of my mother, leaving Cassie bare in front of them all, watching as I floated into the air and back onto my feet, staring as I turned to them, golden electricity humming around my body. Tiny tendrils of light wove the split skin around my body together, pulling together flesh until it healed. My darkened left eye brightened that little bit more, but it wasn¡¯t my irises glowing¡ªit was my eyes, the entire orb, shining like twin blazing suns.


    Silence, the hordes of Kaiju behind me all but muted to my ears as my hair flowed around my head.


    A flicker of light, then blood, tissue, veiny gore and tendons vomited onto the floor.


    I threw the arm that Adam had held out in front of my mother to the ground at his feet.

 Issue #38: A Helping Hand Part Three

    Blood spat from the stump of his shoulder. He stared, his bruised and bloody face as pale as his hair when he glanced at the arm and its tendrils of muscles laying on his sneakers. Then he screamed.


    Adam fell to his knees, clutching the stump and the jagged piece of bone, but the blood wouldn¡¯t stop gushing through his fingers and onto his shirt, onto the floor and splattering down his white shirt. I watched him shriek, watched how his voice slowly gave out into gasping dry heaves, like he was going to puke, and eventually, he did¡ªsaliva, blood, and half-digested food. It took the rest of them a heartbeat to follow suit, to look at his arm. One soldier vomited. Another swore and leveled their weapon, but I tilted my head, stared them dead in that face plate, into panicked blue eyes I saw shining with the reflection of my light. She lowered the rattling weapon. Lowered it until it slipped from her hands and clattered onto the floor. They all reeked of sweat, each and every one of them, like something had just turned up the heat in the room. Cassie simply just stared in awe.


    My mom, however, gasped, grabbed Adam¡¯s arm, then tore off her lab coat and quickly began wrapping it around the stump. It stopped me from moving forward. Froze me right in place.


    Because she was whispering something, whispering, ¡°It¡¯ll be okay, God, I''m sorry, it¡¯ll be okay, just focus on my voice.¡±


    I stared at her, watched her snap her fingers at one of the soldiers, gave up, then snapped at Rett to grab a few broken emergency kits off the floor. Syringes. Bandages. Ointments. Hundreds of dollars worth of Blackwood Pharma medical-tech, wasted on some look-alike. She worked like he was the only thing that mattered in the room. Not the monsters in the cages, screaming and choking on their own blood and organs. Not the armed soldiers standing over her, the ones who hadn¡¯t backed away or shaken themselves to nervous wrecks. Adam was her priority, and not until his healing kicked in and whatever it was that she¡¯d given him started working, that Veronica turned to look at me, look up at me. Her glasses reflected my light, my own bright golden eyes.


    And there was something in her expression, something vile in the way her mouth went thin and her brows screwed tight, creasing her forehead, like she was fucking disgusted to see me like this. She finished knotting her lab coat around his arm, and then, with an arm around him, stared at me, watched me, as if defiantly testing me to see if I¡¯d hurt him again. Gods, where the hell were you when I¡¯d come home bleeding and broken, huh? How many times did I pick myself up off the bathroom floor ¡®cause I passed out trying not to bleed my guts out? I wanted to say something, to do something, but she hadn¡¯t blinked or moved in minutes. Just staring at me. Just testing me. Veronica stood, facing me, her black turtleneck patched with sweat as she walked toward me.


    ¡°Don¡¯t¡ª¡± Adam gasped and tried to stand, then fell to his knees. ¡°Veronica.¡±


    She stopped in front of me, looking up into my eyes. More sweat bubbled across her forehead and dribbled down her neck. ¡°Olympia,¡± she said softly. ¡°It¡¯s enough, you¡¯ve won.¡±


    I stared at her, silent, and when I spoke, my voice echoed. ¡°Move.¡±


    Veronica Addams did not move; she took a step forward. ¡°I can tell you everything you want about the Ambrosia Project, and anything else you want to know, but you can¡¯t continue¡ª¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s one person in this room that matters, and it¡¯s Cassie Blackwood.¡±


    ¡°People will hate you,¡± she said quietly. ¡°If you take her, then what stops you from taking anyone you want for any reason you want? When does it stop? Where? How much more blood?¡±


    The corona of golden electricity pulated around me, burning the air dry. The faint sound of crinkling glass and widening cracks echoed. They all winced and shaded their eyes from me as I brightened, the heat becoming worse, almost intrusive and violent in the air. ¡°Don¡¯t make this about them. This is about the people in the cages and the person bankrolling it, and if the humans didn¡¯t want blood, then they would stop squirming so much. I¡¯m trying to help them, help this entire city, and for whatever fucking reason, nobody seems to get that¡ªyou all want peace without actually bleeding for it. I don¡¯t give a damn what you¡¯ve got to say right now. I¡¯m taking her. That¡¯s final.¡±


    I hovered past Veronica, then she grabbed my forearm, and the stink of burning skin rushed down my throat like a burning shot of dry liquor. Mom didn¡¯t wince or cry out. She bared down, clenching her jaw, looking at me even though her hand was flaring with angry red blisters and blackening flesh. I yanked my arm away, watched as she lowered it, the skin still smoking, the tendrils curling around her arm, and still she stared, still her brows creased and frown deepened.


    ¡°Don¡¯t become them,¡± she whispered, nearly mouthing it. ¡°You¡¯re better than that, Ry.¡±


    A ball of icy lead formed in my gut, tried to rise up my throat, but I swallowed it, tasted the bitter saliva it left trailing back down to my stomach. I was held in place by her eyes, by the words that had so easily come out of her mouth, as if she¡¯d said them before, practiced them, told them to herself so many times in case she ever had to say them to someone other than her own imagination.


    I hadn¡¯t mutilated a government sanctioned superhero, however, to stop here.


    I flew past mom, leaving her just over my shoulder to sigh and lower her head. I reached the CEO, and Cassie looked up at me, her eyes shining with the light humming around me. They glittered, sparkled, shone like two tiny jade emeralds. Her smile was tense and thin, like a grimace.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen you like this before,¡± she whispered. Cassie reached out, then swore and shook out her hand when a tendril of electricity snapped at her fingertip. ¡°How are you doing¡ª¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± I said flatly. ¡°The world is waiting for their answers.¡±


    ¡°I doubt I could do anything to refuse,¡± she said. ¡°My God. There¡¯s scripture, you know, about people with powers like this dating back millenia, and¡­well, you don¡¯t care, do you? The capital in your blood alone. The potential. It almost makes me feel guilty for just being human.¡± The woman laughed dryly, shaking her head as she slid her hands into her pockets. ¡°It¡¯s been one hell of a performance, and you¡¯ve surprised even me, but let me do you one better, superhero.¡±


    A soft, muffled click echoed through the air, then the white fluorescents blinked red. A heartbeat later, and the blaring sound of an alarm tore through the laboratory, wailing an ear-splitting scream. I flinched, glanced at Cassie, at Rett and his soldiers, ignored Adam, and turned to look at the glass cages filled with raving Kaiju. Glass panels were hissing, sliding apart, puking out the nauseating smells that had hid behind them. Every single cage shuddered. Each looming door slid open, up and up, forcing me a little higher up, forcing me to swear, as the Kaiju paused at the exit of their cells, their tentacles licking the steel bases of each cage, slathering along the first markings on the cold concrete floor. I cursed again, even louder, as the piles of organs and flesh, hearts and muscles and tentacles gathered into one soupy mess of putrid body parts that made my overly sensitive nose recoil. I wanted to vomit looking at them. Wanted to leave right then.


    We collectively stared at the creature coming together on the floor, a bubbling mass of tumors and mouths and slimy purple tentacles sucking on its own stewing mess of liquified flesh.


    ¡°What did you do?¡± I said. Again, louder: ¡°What the hell did you just do?¡±


    Cassie, hands still in her pockets, smiled. ¡°Freed up space in the old basement. There¡¯s always going to be more where these came from. Always. I¡¯ll be taking my leave now. Wraith?¡±


    A second later, and the crimson darkness enveloped Cassie, pulling her into thin air.


    Wraith? I thought. The guns. That sickly sweet smell from the Kaiju, like that powder.


    Was Cassie Blackwood¡ª


    Mom stumbled, banging against a table, snapping my concentration back to her, to the Kaiju now rising and rising, filling the warehouse-sized space with a stench so terrible my tongue shriveled into my throat. In the hellish red light, it looked ghastly, like it was dragging its mangled body parts out of hell and spilling them onto the floor. Its scream was louder, more strangled, a stew of voices, old and young, male and female, that was so distorted it turned my gut with sickness.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    It didn¡¯t go for mom, or the Damage Control soldiers, or even a paling Adam.


    But me instead.


    A thick, grotesque tentacle shot out from the fleshy mass. I darted away, rocketing through the air to avoid the dozens more that spilled from its orifices. Quick. Faster than me. They snatched my ankle in their grip, jerking my leg painfully as it slammed me through a pillar. Concrete dust exploded into my lungs, choking my mouth dry. I rolled along the floor, dazed, used my flight to pick myself up, and narrowly avoided one, two, shit, seven tentacles snaking along the floor and through the air. Then the ceiling shuddered, the missing pillar crumbling and dragging down a bus-sized chunk of concrete down from above, like a fist of red-stained stone that punched down hard on the creature, blowing it to bits. I coughed and hacked, the dust a cloud in the air and on the ground. It wasn¡¯t dead. I knew it wasn¡¯t dead. It was squirming and screaming for bloody murder.


    And so was my mom, a sound so terrible I could only stare at the chunk of rubble sitting on her right foot. I was there in a blink, empty, panicked, grabbing the rock, but something snatched my ankle, snapping me away from mom and throwing me against the floor, the ceiling, a wall and through a pillar in one violent smashing move. My head rang. My body ached. The burning light around my body flickered as I gathered myself, shouldered off debris the size of small cars, and raced back to my mom, to the Damage Control soldiers running toward her, trying to avoid falling stones larger than a human¡¯s skull. Then another tentacle latched onto my arm, not wrapping around it, but almost melting into my suit, gooey and pasty and burning my skin when it touched.


    I screamed when it raced around my throat, tightening like a sudden noose, dragging me further away from mom and the soldiers struggling to get her up. Fuck. Fuck! More rubble. More stones rained from above as it all shuddered and shook with vibrating chaos. The glass cages shattered, spitting glass spindles through the air, slicing at mom¡¯s cheek and drawing a line of blood across the floor. I struggled, kicked. The tentacles blending onto my skin didn¡¯t let up. They burned, ached, and when I pulled at them, dug my fingers into their meat to tear them off me, it hurt to even touch them. Up into the air. Down into the concrete. Agony tearing through my mind and body, the wind getting knocked clear out of my lungs. Mom¡¯s screaming, that¡¯s all I could hear. I dragged myself onto my hands and knees, dug my fingers into the concrete and pulled and tore and fought my way forward, no matter how much it felt like my skin was getting torn right off my arms, my neck, my legs¡ªsomething deep down told me not to care, not to bother; to focus on the thing trying to pull strips of flesh off my skeleton, but¡­.I still crawled, still screamed, maybe her name, maybe in pain, fuck, maybe even mom by accident, and didn¡¯t stop no matter the agony.


    A tentacle snapped onto my cheek. I flinched, whipped my head around¡ªit came free with my skin. Blood spat onto the floor, onto the tentacles that raged into a frenzy at the taste of it.


    From the darkness, one darted into my mouth, down my throat, choking my, gagging me¡ªI tore away at it, ripping it apart, my body pulsating with the same energy that had killed that damned snake back on 12th Avenue to no avail. Mom still ahead of me. Two more soldiers crushed by falling debris. I lurched forward. Stumbled and ran, flew upward and smashed into a falling boulder before it could slam down onto Rett, mom, three others and even Adam. It blew apart into smaller rocks, showering them, but the creature wasn¡¯t done. It swung me through another pillar, against the ceiling, gathering itself out from the rubble and rising above it, one large eye gathering in the darkness to stare at the bleeding light it had in its tentacle. It had my arms, my legs, my throat in its organ-layered tentacles. Then it began to pull. To dig its shards of bone into my flesh, through my costume, and I screamed. Screamed loud enough for the ceiling to collapse, for it to all come down.


    <hr>


    Adam watched the ceiling fall, and the superhero bleed golden blood. His mind had been wracked with pain, so much pain he couldn¡¯t focus on anything going on around him. He lay on the ground, trapped underneath rubble. Screaming. Lots of screaming. Veronica¡¯s the sharpest. Olympia¡¯s the loudest. Her light was stark in the blood-red darkness, so bright it cast long sweeping shadows through the entire room. Tonight was a favor, a task he wasn¡¯t meant to do. The Olympiad didn¡¯t know he was here, didn¡¯t know he was being crushed again and again by the weight of debris smashing onto the stones laying flat on his back. But they didn¡¯t need to know. He didn¡¯t care.


    She was screaming for help, not even for herself, but for Olympia.


    His body couldn¡¯t lift itself off the floor, let alone the boulders above him, but he had no choice, no option¡ªcouldn¡¯t stay on the floor, couldn¡¯t just lie there bleeding and helpless.


    He had been promised power, a future. Only way to get that was to live to see it.


    Adam¡¯s fist splintered the stone underneath him, smashing it apart as he rose, rose, goddammit, stand up, square your feet, shoulder the rubble, the debris, tensing his jaw to much it ached with pain. Then he shot outward, straight toward Veronica, the soldiers, and stopped a piece of debris from crashing into them. One arm above him, The stone on his back. He collapsed onto one leg, the warm blood pouring down his side making his head woozy as he struggled, fighting to keep the boulder from coming down any closer. He roared, using his lone arm to lift higher, higher, then throw it aside. He went for the stone sitting on Veronica¡¯s ankle, didn¡¯t even look at the mangled mess it had become. What was the bastard¡¯s name, Rett, right¡ªhe snapped for him to get a hold of him, hold tight, as well as the rest of his soldiers. Veronica in his arms, the debris raining from above, the entire laboratory caving in, and he shot toward the exit tunnel. Through the choking dust and blinding concrete shrapnel that spat into his eyes and flicked away from him.


    His arm. He¡¯d forgotten his arm. The stub ached, thudded with so much anguish he wanted to pass out, to puke and shudder and stop existing long enough to not have to feel it anymore.


    Not an excuse. Not for Zeus. Keep fucking going.


    Keep. Going.


    Through the falling stone, through the dust, the soldier¡¯s fingers deep in his skin, their screaming and praying and cries for their loved ones loud in his ears, and Veronica calling for her.


    That superhero being torn into by that fucking Kaiju.


    Adam burst through the tunnel exit, collapsing into a heap as he rolled along the floor, his body finally giving out, his strength sapped and nullified. He held Veronica tight against his body as he rolled, ass over heels again and again until he slammed into a parked armored van. He gasped, winded, breathing harder and harder the longer he lay in the crumpled mess of the truck. Veronica lay beside him, moaning, her foot a mess of skin and bone and muscle. Soldiers lay scattered all over the ground and, thankfully, all still alive. Rett was already crawling around, stumbling to check on each of them, trying to shout for help from other guard posts along the tunnel. Adam gave in, sighing with exhaustion as he splayed out in the dent he had made. Shit, those old bastards are gonna be on my ass about leaving the compound. That was his first thought. Not his arm or the blood pooling through his shirt, but Poseidon and Ares and what they would say.


    A good superhero would have stopped that damned criminal and taken her into custody.


    But¡­hell, a gust of dust rushed down the tunnel and into the loading dock, and he figured that fate had taken her into its own kind of custody. The silence lingered, lasted, laid thick and fat in the air, only interrupted by the sounds of their breathing and shuffling and incoherent mumblings.


    ¡°Oh God,¡± he heard Veronica whisper. On one elbow, her head tilted to stare at the tunnel exit, at the rubble tumbling from it. ¡°Oh God. Where is she? Did you¡ªDid you see her get out?¡±


    Adam shook his head slowly, lest he passed out right now. ¡°Last I saw, that thing had her.¡±


    Probably ripped her in two, he thought. Or into bloody birthday ribbons.


    Confetti, he felt, was a better word. A little surprise for the city.


    ¡°No,¡± was the word she said that cut through his thoughts. The word, like a shard of ice, that shocked him awake. Veronica crawled, dragging her foot behind her, a long snaking trail of blood on this dusty floor. ¡°No, God no. Fuck. Please. Please no.¡± She clawed at the rubble, throwing stones behind her, cutting up her hand and tearing her fingernails. ¡°Not again. Not¡ª¡±


    ¡°Veronica?¡± Adam said. She didn¡¯t stop muttering, didn¡¯t stop throwing stones.


    But she turned her head, and he saw her eyes, saw their redness and the tears that balanced on their rims and those that had already smeared her cheeks with grit. ¡°Adam, please. Save her.¡±


    ¡°Save Olympia?¡± he asked, groaning as he sat upright. ¡°I can¡¯t raise the dead, Veronica.¡±


    ¡°Adam!¡± she cried out, so sharp he flinched. Then, softly: ¡°There¡¯s people who need her.¡±


    ¡°The city will be just fine without that blue and red train wreck.¡±


    She stopped flinging the stones behind her, going woozy for a second when she moved too quickly and smacked her ankle against some rubble. ¡°Adam,¡± she whispered. ¡°Superheroes save people, save anyone.¡± Veronica panted hard, almost gasped for air. ¡°Superheroes don¡¯t give up on people, alright? I don¡¯t know what they teach you in that fucking organization, I don¡¯t care what Poseidon or even King has to say about doing the logical thing; you do the right fucking thing until you can¡¯t anymore, because all I¡¯m asking from you after all these years is just this: save Olympia.¡±


    Adam sat on the edge of the dent, looking across the docking yard. Help was coming.


    He could hear their boots and trucks racing down the tunnel, blaring their call.


    I¡¯d hate to break your heart, Veronica, he thought. But there¡¯s no heartbeat in there.


    Buried with the rest of the monsters, not killed on a hill like her father. Typical.


    Zeus was right about her. His daughter was destined to be a disappointment to the very end.


    That''s why I was brought into this world, wasn''t it? To wear her cape when she fails.

 The Olympus Files: Benjamin Ross (Case 85/?)

    This document has been adapted, altered, summarised and declassified for public viewership under SDU permittance. Unlawful publication will result in swift private action, and may result in death.


    *Public - In reference to those holding A-Class clearance, and those granted special access.


    ¡°Benjamin Logan Ross, you better not be standing me up again. I stole this dress from an heiress, and these rings, this necklace? I don¡¯t even want to explain how difficult it was having to escape a guy who could quite literally turn invisible,¡± Katie said. ¡°That isn¡¯t even my Porsche outfront!¡±


    ¡°Listen, I know what I said about making sure things work out this time around¡ª¡±


    ¡°You better not be breaking up with me, Ben. I know where you live, remember?¡±


    Sometimes he wondered how he got himself in the kinds of situations that tonight yielded. Last he checked, he¡¯d forgotten to submit about a dozen assignments this week, and oh, right, his girlfriend kept breaking into people¡¯s homes in preparation for their anniversary. Any reasonable man would have tried to slow things down, accepted that the week was fucked, and gone on to try to fix things with everyone he¡¯d managed to piss off in the last few days. But Ben wasn¡¯t any man, and tonight wasn¡¯t any night. He would deal with his problems like any rational nineteen-year old should: by stalking people through the night. His therapist (his sister) said it wasn¡¯t healthy for him to stay out so long. Superhumans littered this city. Dangerous superhumans capable of pulling him apart, or infesting his body and killing him slowly over the span of weeks. Lucian was here, too.


    He was always here, and anyone could see that in the blood stains left in the alleyways, and those sigils, those symbols, those murals he made people carve of himself into brick walls. Some were scorched into the concrete, and others just used red paint¡ªbut the intent was clear as day. Lucian might not be making people do this, but there were hundreds of people who thought he was God. Ben wasn¡¯t a Christian, but burning a crown of thorns into Lucian¡¯s murals was just bad taste.


    He¡¯d lost count of the number of upside-down crosses he¡¯d seen in his hideouts now. The guy just screamed attention, or his deranged followers did. It didn¡¯t matter. He was a target now.


    ¡°I¡¯m just busy tonight, Kit,¡± he said, hands in his hoodie pockets, wired earphones snaking into the back of his jeans as he stood on the edge of decrepit apartment building number twenty. ¡°But, on the bright side, I¡¯m gonna grab you a gift, and you¡¯re gonna love it so bad. Trust me.¡±


    ¡°Is it a tiara?¡±


    Ben crouched, avoiding a strobing beam of light cutting across the night from one of the many nightclubs throbbing in Lower Olympus right now. The White Capes had a base around these parts that anyone normal would miss if they didn¡¯t know what they were looking for. It was just a building, a regular old apartment building, apart from the barred windows, reinforced doors, the cameras twisting and turning in the dark, and Spectra¡ªa superhuman who could faze in and out of existence, just like her name suggested, lurking around. This was just one of their hideouts, just one of hundreds popping up around Old Town. It would be a hell of a lot easier if they had a big sign saying where they were hiding. But one stronghold down equaled one less cult cluster down here.


    And a lot less dead humans around these parts. Lucian wouldn¡¯t be happy with some kid screwing with one of his main sources of income, but who the fuck cared about what he wanted?


    ¡°I mean, sure,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I could make you a tiara.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, with what diamonds?¡±


    ¡°The ones I¡¯d buy with my ten bucks an hour wage.¡±


    Katie laughed just a little bit. ¡°Mama always said I should marry someone rich, and yet here I am, stuck with two bottles of empty wine, a fucking rediculous tab, and an AWOL boyfriend.¡±


    ¡°Hold on a sec,¡± he said, pausing his surveillance. ¡°Did you just say mar¡ª¡± Ben froze, remaining silent as he felt him coming before he even heard him standing directly to his left. It was the feeling you got when someone was standing behind you, close enough to make you feel uncomfortable, on edge, and he would have been if he didn¡¯t know it would be pointless fighting his case. ¡°Hey, Kates? I¡¯ll call you back. Keep the wine cold and the table ready, I¡¯ll be there.¡±


    He slid his hand into his pocket and shut down his phone, muttering a silent ¡°Yeah, yeah, I love you, too,¡± under his breath before doing so. The man beside him grunted, maybe chuckled.


    ¡°Got something to say?¡± Ben asked.


    Lucas said nothing, because it wouldn¡¯t be a normal night otherwise. The man crouched beside Ben, getting on one knee and pulling out a small tablet of sorts from one of the many pockets he had on his black trousers. The tiny screen nearly blinded him, such was the darkness. Lucas handed him the tablet, and Ben flicked through several camera feeds, each and every one of them showing room after room filled with White Capes. Some were smoking and watching a football game, a few others were stacking crates in what might have once been a bedroom. Dozens of fliers advertising their ¡®sermons¡¯ were being printed in a dimly lit room. A few dozen speedsters or teleporters (it was a little hard to tell sometimes, go figure) would blink in and out of view, as well as a slim girl covered in scars guarding a room, maybe in the basement, that just looked like a jail cell full of Kaiju. And right there in the largest main apartment, was their target for tonight.


    Each White Cape sect had their leader, their preacher¡ªtheir pastor.


    This one seemed to be a simple skinny white dude in slacks sitting behind a rickety table, going over documents under the flickering light coming from a single naked bulb above him. It was only a little bit underwhelming, considering the monsters he¡¯d met with before, but it was the silent types, the normal types¡ªthe types who liked to drink their coffee black and cold and looked like they were meant to be in an office¡ªthat you should be most worried about, because you couldn¡¯t guess what they could do until your organs were laced around your throat like a noose.


    ¡°What¡¯s his schtick?¡± Ben asked, handing back the tablet. ¡°No sound, either?¡±


    ¡°Negative,¡± Lucas muttered. His cowl was down, but that wouldn¡¯t have made him any more talkative. ¡°Only good for eyes. Echo must¡¯ve come around, made sure the site was clean.¡±


    Of course he did. ¡°So we¡¯ve got no idea what their big man can actually do?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s the man we¡¯ve got to neutralize and interrogate. Plain and simple.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, I¡¯d prefer not to get turned into paste, I¡¯ve got a bio-chem test next week.¡±


    Lucas looked at him as if yes, finally, he realized Ben might have gotten one too many whacks against the skull in training after all these years. ¡°Gear up. Fourth floor, second window.¡± He pulled the cowl over his head, the fabric hugging his entire face, making him nothing but an outline made from black and deeper black apart from the stark white eagle head on his chest. Lucas had twin scarlet desert eagles tucked away on his thighs, knives on his belt and calves, tiny explosives, a rifle on his back, and the hard-as-steel knuckles on his gloves. Was it overkill? In Ben¡¯s opinion, maybe, but he was a human. Special forces, sure. More than well-trained, yes. But that wouldn¡¯t matter against superstrength. Besides, this part always made his heart race a little, because the White Capes were nothing but superhumans. Angry, violent, hateful superhumans that would much rather strip the skin off their bodies than consider why two vigilantes just broke in.


    He had tried the lost pizza guy trick on them once; it wasn¡¯t going to work again.


    Shrike stood up, and Ben did as well, but unlike the man beside him, he couldn¡¯t vanish into foul-smelling smoke, as if he¡¯d just burnt to nothing. It wasn¡¯t a superpower, just a long story.


    And all he ever left behind was a tiny white feather, singed at its tip. Ben caught it on his palm, and a few moments later, he heard the first thud as something hard hit someone¡¯s skull.


    Well, he thought, stretching his arms over his head. You know what to do, Blue.


    A shudder ran down his back, followed by a sudden (slightly jarring) spike of pain as the thing attached to the length of his spine burst out of his skin. It hurt, it always did, and he¡¯d given up washing the blood out of his hoodies by now, but the pain was gone just as quickly as the sticky, liquid, worm-like substance crawled over his skin, under his shirt, down his torso, his legs, up his chest and around his throat until it covered his entire face. When it was done, he shuddered a little, rolling his shoulders as the creature in him finished layering his skin with what might as well have been another layer of deep navy blue flesh. The mask went up to his hairline, leaving his hair buffeting in the wind as he jumped up and down, getting the creases out of his now thicker soles.


    He glanced down at his chest, then cleared his throat.


    A strip of tiny yellow worms (he hated calling them that) appeared, bending into a circle with an arrow lancing through it pointing toward the sky. Better. Ben slid off his hoodie, jeans, and sneakers, kicked them against an old air vent, turned toward the apartment building, and leaped.


    Did Lucas say second floor, fourth window? It was too late to wonder about that by the time he landed on the apartment¡¯s grimy wall with a grunt. He stuck to it like he¡¯d gotten superglue on his hands and feet as he kneeled against the bricks to peer through the filthy stained glass. The bars over the windows made it nearly impossible to see anything through them, no matter how hard he squinted. He could sense about a dozen people in the room beyond. Going in blind, then. No idea what was hiding behind the glass, the wall, or his senses, because he wasn¡¯t picking up all that much from the window beyond. Nothing he couldn¡¯t handle. The stink of Lucas¡¯ smoke was flowing out of the rooms above him, followed by the explosive sound of gunfire, and soon by the sound of a body thudding against the floor. He wasn¡¯t killing anyone; Ben couldn¡¯t smell blood.


    Not yet, anyway.


    Ben spread his hand, forcing five hooked claws to erupt from his fingertips. He cut through the steel bars, leaving the window exposed, naked, as he flipped backward onto the opposite building, and flung himself forward, smashing through the window and rolling along a filthy carpet littered with cigarettes, ammunition, and wooden crates. Still crouching, still low, he looked around himself, counted four other superhumans in the hallway with him. Nothing visible, except for one girl who had been sliced by the glass shards Ben had sent her way. A ball of metal was floating on her palm, liquid sometimes as it flowed around her fingers, then hardening seconds later. She glared, shouted something in a language he couldn¡¯t understand, and the four others charged him.


    He leaped over a cone of blue fire that gushed out from one man¡¯s mouth, bouncing off the wall and landing on his feet. One. A fist appeared from the wall behind him. He felt it coming before he even saw it. Ben ducked, flipped backward, and watched a woman faze through a wall, a flicker that he barely caught in the darkness of the room. Two. The next came in a pair. A woman flung out her hands, and this time, he got caught mid-flip. He hung suspended in the air, and the man beside her snapped his fingers, and holy hell, the air around him twisted, shook and heated, seething and shrieking until he was blinded by a flash of brilliantly terrible white heat. The explosion smacked him back outside the window and against the alleyway wall like a bug and hard onto the fire escape railing. He groaned, shook his head. Three and four. He tasted iron, maybe because his mouth smacked into the catwalk, or maybe because of internal bleeding, who knew?


    At least now he knew what each of them was capable of, so now came the fun.


    Ben picked himself up, shook himself off, and looked up at the window. The woman with the metal was staring down at him, her bare foot on the window ledge. ¡°Kinda rude, you know.¡±


    She glowered, her stark green eyes glittering in the flickering security light above the window, and then it exploded, drenching them in darkness. Ben could still see, see enough to¡ª


    Apparently, so could she, because she swiped her hand through the air, sending shards of metal darting toward him. He swore, vaulted over the railing and slammed into a dumpster. Move. So he moved, his body jerking on its own as dozens of whistling little needles thwacked into the alley, the dumpster, and rained down like hellfire that just didn¡¯t stop. He ran. Ran hard to the end of the alley, leaped over a pile of rags, and bundled the man he¡¯d seen cowering at the foot of a pile of trash into his arms. Ben rolled into the dark, smashing into the garbage. A bottle shattered. The needles paused. He breathed hard, grabbing the homeless guy before he could run back into the alley. He was gasping, reeked of alcohol and sweat and greasy meat. Ben patted the guy down. Not bleeding, at least, not from any needles. He looked up, panting, at the woman now on the catwalk.


    She was pulling metal into the tiny balls hovering over her palms. Spoons. Forks. Shards from the same fire escape she was bending to her will to make a staircase directly toward him.


    ¡°Hey, I know this might not be breaking news to you, but you need to run right about now.¡±


    The homeless guy didn¡¯t need a second educated guess to bolt, staggering and hobbling his way out of the alley and away into the night. Good. Hopefully there weren¡¯t any others around.


    Ben didn¡¯t want to scar them with the mental picture of a villain¡¯s spine being broken,


    Before he could move, the woman paused. Her hands lowered, dropping the liquid metal. He glanced over his shoulder at what she was staring at, because what could have been that¡­


    Zeus was hovering above the alleyway, a glowing golden silhouette. His stark white cape snapped over his shoulder as if the wind wanted nothing more than to make him larger, bigger, but the universe didn¡¯t need to do that¡ªhe was a mellow spotlight, like a lantern that was only making the shadows underneath him darker. Ben cursed mentally, because he knew damn well Zeus could hear it if he said it. This wasn¡¯t part of any contingency plan, he thought, because Shrike loved his plans, loved them so much that Ben was forced to memorize and adapt them during lunch hour every day. Zeus was meant to be busy tonight, busy doing anything else around the world tonight.


    He would have rathered Ares, Heka, hell, even Cleopatra!


    Because Zeus wasn¡¯t supposed to find out about Benjamin Ross.


    ¡°Holy shit,¡± the woman muttered, raising her arms toward him¡ªnot to attack him, but as if to hug him. ¡°You¡­you¡¯re him. I didn¡¯t ever think you¡¯d come here, but you¡¯re actually here.¡±


    Why the hell is she so excited? Why the hell am I more afraid than her?!


    The man and the woman who¡¯d put Ben back out into the alleyway peered into the night, and like moths, their heads snapped upward, turning to look at the glowing golden light above them. Two other men came next, clamoring for a view of him, of this man wearing gold, blue, and white that shone like a spotlight. Of the symbol on his chest that, Ben just realized, was carved into their flesh, arms and necks and faces. His eyes were the scariest thing about him, not his abnormal size, not his almost too perfect face that kinda looked like some creature impersonating what the ideal human male would look like after years of training. His eyes were pure gold, just that. Not his irises, not the whites¡ªeverything, as if even his soul was just this shining ball of bright light.


    Unfortunately for Ben, there was a reason he only ever worked the night shift.


    ¡°Please,¡± Zeus said, and when he spoke, Ben was sure the Earth itself shook with his voice, ¡°don¡¯t let me interrupt you, Apollo. We¡¯ll speak once you finish here. Impress me, young hero.¡±


    He blinked, even though he knew (maybe?) that Zeus couldn¡¯t see it. He didn¡¯t wait.


    Ben extended his hand, and the flesh on his forearm responded, crafting a large bow that he drew back and fired in three quick yanks. Thin white spindles of bone shot from the bow, whistling through the air and smacking the woman in the thighs, their barbs ripping through her jeans and spitting blood out onto the catwalk. She screamed, fell. Ben lunged and caught her, then slammed his fist into her nose to make her pass out. The others reacted. A blast of fire from the window melted the garbage into a heap of burning trash, making his stomach leap into his throat (don¡¯t puke, don¡¯t puke¡ªthis mask just got cleaned, Ben). They were still above him, with the man who could phase (not a man, a woman¡ªSpecter) phasing out of view and flickering at the end of the alleyway like some ghastly pale apparition. He had to be careful with her. She could phase right through him and spill his guts out, or just use him as a meat puppet until his mind melted, too.


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    Neither of which were things he really wanted to do tonight.


    He¡¯d have to stay active, stay away from anything solid she would be hiding in.


    Ben leaped onto the dumpster, bounded off it and grabbed onto the catwalk, flipping himself onto it in a crouch before exploding away. He ran and ran hard, jumped upward, flipped over the railing, and threw himself across the gap. He landed on the wall, then sprinted directly upward, right toward the window. The woman spread her hands. Ben did the same, and a wild violet tentacle shot from his palm, latching onto her wrist. He stopped on the wall, turned his hips and twisted. The woman flew out of the window, screaming like she was, well, flying through the air. Ben jumped off the wall, caught her, and smashed into the opposite apartment¡¯s boarded up window. He quickly wrapped her in a writhing tentacle, meaning her powers weren¡¯t going to be working properly until he said otherwise. But she¡¯d smacked her head against the floor, half-dazed and lucid, mumbling words that made no sense at all. He checked where all the blood was coming from that was matting her blonde hair¡ªjust a cut along her scalp. Bodies bled a lot when cut.


    ¡°Get your hands off her!¡± a man barked.


    He didn¡¯t spin around, he just didn¡¯t have the time¡ªan explosion of searing hot air sent him crashing through an old couch and dinner table, beating the air right out of his lungs. Ben groaned, littered with heavy wooden shrapnel, thick dust that filled his lungs, and fluttering little moths as the two superhumans still standing slipped into the apartment. Specter was somewhere, anywhere. Panic was in his blood, mild panic, but fear nonetheless. Ben got up, heaving the dinner table off his chest and blowing dust into the air. He remained crouched, panting, as the man who could breathe fire breathed deeply, sending plumes of smoke spiraling above them. The other man had his hands at the ready, and Ben didn¡¯t want to know what would happen if he clapped them.


    ¡°So this is what a guy gets for making sure a girl¡¯s skull isn¡¯t fractured.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not allowed to touch her, touch any of them,¡± Fire Mouth (dragon was cooler, but he was a supervillain, so Ben wasn¡¯t going to waste the name on him) said. ¡°You¡¯re uncleansed.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty clean. I mean, I showered right before I came to kick your teeth in.¡±


    Zeus was still watching, Ben could see him just over their shoulders. Hovering outside, a silhouette so large that his shadow made the room impossibly dark. On my own in this, then.


    Fire Mouth belched, and this time, flames splattered onto the floor and launched through the air, burning gaping holes into the carpet and right through the wood. It stuck to the ceiling, to the walls. Ben tried to run, to grab the girl still on the floor before the flames caught and began a blaze, but the explosive guy was already on him, slamming his palms together and creating a sound so shrill it felt like his eardrums had been blown out and his mind torn shredded by painfully hot knives. Then the explosion happened. Not a large one, but one that shot right for his chest. It lanced through the air, a missile of agony and white hot fire that smashed him against the wall so violently that his head smacked against the bricks. Ben slumped, tasted blood. The world whined as he shook his head, but when he did that, vomit rushed into his throat, burning as he swallowed. The flesh on his body was in pain, not his, but the one he was wearing. The one that was shuddering and moving, its tiny tendrils slapping against his skin and reaching for the air around him. It was angry, frustrated¡ªwanted blood. He could feel it, taste it, sense it and smell it. Ben breathed.


    He breathed in deeply, so he could still smell the gum Katie had put in his mouth from two hours ago. He shut his eyes and waited, but another blast put him through the drywall and into the hallway, spiraling and smacking and tumbling against the carpet. Ben struggled to stand, to get off his chest and push off from the floor. Dust. Debris. Darkness all around him and a lasting silence.


    The thing wanted to kill them. To gut them. It was forcing itself into his body, into his blood; he could feel its worm-like tendrils soaking through his pores and reaching for his muscles.


    It wanted control, to take over. It wanted to protect itself.


    Ben Ross wasn¡¯t a killer, though. Just wasn¡¯t his thing.


    ¡°The little blue bird stopped movin¡¯,¡± Fire Mouth muttered over him. Liquid-fire dripped from the corner of his mouth, burning the carpet and making his face glow red. ¡°Burn him.¡±


    The other man raised his hands, as if about to bless Ben.


    ¡°You know,¡± he said weakly, ¡°I don¡¯t want to see any of you dead.¡±


    ¡°The innocent hero schtick,¡± one spat, kicking him in the ribs.


    ¡°No,¡± he grunted. ¡°I just like beating you guys senseless every week. It¡¯s fun.¡± Ben angled his head to look up at them, and then they stepped back a little, stared at the tiny worms flickering over his arms, his shoulders, grasping for their bodies. ¡°This thing, though, wants you dead.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck?¡± Fire Mouth whispered, disgusted. ¡°What the fuck is that thing?¡±


    Ben felt a presence behind him, and Specter flickered out of the wall. She was the silent type, maybe couldn¡¯t even speak. It didn¡¯t matter. She wore a white mask, a dark hood¡ªand her hand grabbed onto his calf, latching onto it like a shard of ice that just slammed through his leg. Her fingernails sank into the meat of his leg, deep, deep into his flesh and around his bones.


    He screamed, screamed till his throat was raw, then kicked out, rolled backward, got onto his hands, and spun onto his feet, then slammed the top of his head into Fire Mouth¡¯s jaw. Blood gushed out of his maw, followed by teeth that skittered onto the floor. Ben smacked the side of his hand against the man¡¯s throat, making him gag. He followed with an elbow, taking dozens more teeth, planted his fist into his ribs and left him gurgling on the floor a gasping, mumbling mess. Ben lunged at the other man before he clapped, grabbed his arm, flung his leg over his forearm and slammed him onto the carpet. Ben yanked hard. The man¡¯s arm snapped. He cried out, and a foot to his head knocked him out. Ben breathed hard, kneeling beside him, checking for his weak pulse.


    Still alive. The flesh reached for the man¡¯s throat. Ben clenched his fist and stood.


    Ben searched for Specter, tried to sense where she had gone.


    He didn¡¯t have to keep looking for long. A heartbeat, and then blood gushed onto his face.


    Blinking, even though his mask stopped it from getting into his eyes, Ben staggered away, sure (very, very sure) that he hadn¡¯t done anything for that much to spill down his chest. He had promised Lucas that he¡¯d gotten over the hate in this thing, the survival instinct and the blood it so deeply wanted to drink every other day. He had controlled it. Hadn¡¯t had an accident in years.


    And he was right, it wasn¡¯t him.


    It was the glowing hand protruding through Specter¡¯s chest.


    The woman glanced down, then she flickered, vanishing from view. Zeus grunted, flinging his hand once and spreading the blood all over the apartment wall. He stared at Ben, smiling. ¡°Let¡¯s talk, me and you, because we¡¯ve got a very interesting conundrum between the two of us, yes. As for these men and women¡­¡± Another fling of his hand, and a gust of wind put out the flames and cleared out the smoke. ¡°Good. Your partner should find them long before law enforcement, too.¡±


    Ben stepped backward, shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯m¨CI¡¯m good. Gotta go help the old man.¡±


    Zeus kept smiling, and in a blink of an eye, they were both standing atop a skyscraper. Ben gasped as Zeus let go of him. He landed on his feet, his suit absorbing the gust of wind that had punched the air out of his lungs. He gasped for air, more out of shock than anything, and then backed up toward the large neon sign blinking away in the night sky. The man in the white costume hovered just over the gravel littered rooftop, his cape still flowing and his arms behind his back. Upper west side, somewhere south of Olympus U. He had a good internal GPS, and an even better stomach that was telling him to get the hell out of there. Katie was close, about a block away in one of those restaurants that he¡¯d usually be busting tables for on a normal night. But Zeus didn¡¯t know that, and besides, he wouldn¡¯t mention that. Supervillains threatened, and Zeus was not that at all.


    He was just a murderer, one that didn¡¯t really care at all about the blood splatter on his cape.


    ¡°Take off the mask,¡± he said to Ben, floating a little closer. ¡°Let¡¯s talk face-to-face, Apollo.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d love to, uh, sir,¡± he said, backing away, his body brimming with nervous energy, with the need to jump right off this hundred-story monstrosity. ¡°But I kinda have a secret identity.¡±


    ¡°Oh, please,¡± Zeus said. ¡°I know who you are, Benjamin.¡±


    Well, there¡¯s person number five to guess correctly who I am this week.


    ¡°That¡¯s the thirtieth most common name in New Olympus, so pretty good guess, but¡ª¡±


    ¡°Your sister is Bianca and your mother¡¯s name is Carly. Your father was a marine turned chef, and you¡¯re in your, what you humans like to call, sophomore year in Olympus West, correct?¡±


    Well, guess there¡¯s only one kind of Ben Ross like that, sure.


    He sighed, and the mask slid upward from his face, forming a bandana around his forehead that kept his hair from whipping into his eyes because of the wind. Zeus smiled even wider at him.


    ¡°Am I in trouble?¡± he asked. ¡°I haven¡¯t done anything wrong, have I?¡±


    ¡°Not that I know of,¡± Zeus said. ¡°Unless you¡¯re keeping another secret from me.¡±


    Ben chuckled uncomfortably. ¡°Great! I, um, should really get back to Shrike right about¡ª¡±


    Zeus tilted his head, then said, ¡°Your target for the night has been captured. Good work.¡±


    He intends to kill, the suit said in his mind. It had spoken a lot during the fight, but Ben had gotten good at ignoring it. This creature will terminate you before you so much as move, boy.


    ¡°I like your costume,¡± Zeus said slowly, his golden eyes scanning him. ¡°Creative.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± he said cautiously. ¡°My mom made it.¡±


    He raised an eyebrow. ¡°Your mother.¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± he said. ¡°Good old mom.¡±


    Zeus floated toward him, stopping a foot away. ¡°Benjamin, how do I put this? I can hear almost every single person¡¯s heart on this planet with enough focus. I can smell them. Each and everything about them fills my mind from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep.¡±


    ¡°I heard a rumor that the Lord of the Sky doesn¡¯t need any sleep.¡±


    He paused, then laughed¡ªa sound so deep it shook Ben¡¯s bones. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s true, but I just enjoy the activity. It¡¯s so very human. So very¡­boring, normal, that I can¡¯t help but indulge in it.¡±


    ¡°You sleep because it¡¯s fun?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Zeus said. ¡°I sleep because who else will look over my wife when she does?¡±


    ¡°Groovy.¡±


    Zeus tilted his head, as if confused, then shrugged. ¡°All things considered, I am aware of all that happens on this planet, even to the minute details. Of course, that comes with its limits, as everything does. If I focus too much on sight, I hear too little, and vice versa. I¡¯m limited by my own bodily functions. Although it¡¯s quite frustrating, and I would much rather bolster my abilities tenfold and beyond, for the sake of your species¡¯ survival, I won¡¯t burden your small planet with that amount of possible chaos that the true extent of my power will cause to this small wet stone.¡± Ben was about to say something again, something stupid to buy enough time to figure out how he could escape a man who was damn-near faster than light. ¡°I cannot, however, even see you.¡±


    Ben, at that moment, wanted to vanish into the night. He remained silent, staring at Zeus, at his golden eyes that never seemed to blink. How much can I say without him wanting me dead?


    He¡¯d gone over this with Lucas, and enough of it with Lady Kami¡ªBen was a secret. The night was his friend, and the day was his enemy, or whatever. He saved lives during the day, sure, but he would wear a ski mask and do that, not this costume; not as Apollo. He was a fable, a ghost, a thing that came and went, and the story your neighbor told you over dinner because they got saved from a mugging one night by a talkative shadow. Ben wasn¡¯t after the money, or the fame, or the pictures, because his family was okay, all things considered¡ªhe played baseball for his college, got in enough papers, and hell, he was happy with things to stay like this. Shrike might be a hardass sometimes, but he was getting old. He joked about it, but it was true. A body couldn¡¯t take that much damage for that many years. A human just wasn¡¯t meant to last all that long in this game.


    It would be him one day who¡¯d be the one doing solo trips, fixing bugs into buildings, gathering information from local politicians and mob bosses with a tongue as sharp as any knife.


    Ben, in all honesty, just wanted to be like that grumpy old vigilante. Why?


    Because saving people without them knowing was kinda cool. Why do anything apart from just wanting to do it, you know? He could go to Gabe¡¯s house in Lower Olympus and have dinner with his family knowing they would be safe. Katie never understood why, but that was just Ben.


    But Zeus knew him, and knew something was wrong with him.


    He knew about Ben¡¯s suit, and what it meant for the Lord of the Sky.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± he asked, spreading his arms. ¡°I¡¯m, like, right here, dude.¡±


    ¡°That word, ¡®dude.¡¯ What does it mean?¡±


    ¡°Uh, I guess it means¡­.someone, like indicating their name without saying it.¡±


    ¡°Well, I am certainly a dude who is very interested in your costume,¡± he said quietly. ¡°In just two seconds, we got here, and in that amount of time, any human would have disintegrated.¡±


    One point seven seconds, but who¡¯s counting? ¡°It¡¯s just a really special¡ª¡±


    Zeus appeared in front of him, the gust so strong that it nearly blew Ben backward. ¡°And now you don¡¯t even budge. I know you don¡¯t possess any powers, Benjamin. You¡¯re a Normal.¡±


    ¡°Just a really talented guy, sir.¡±


    ¡°That costume is living,¡± he said, looking down at Ben¡¯s symbol. ¡°It¡¯s a creature.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­just really talented fabric?¡±


    Silence, the kind that lasted far too long for someone like Ben to stomach. The wind swept his hair over his eyes, the messy brown frock far too frantic compared to Zeus¡¯ very stiff hair.


    Then Zeus smiled and patted his shoulder. ¡°Would you like to kill me, Benjamin?¡±


    Stiff as a board, he said, ¡°No, sir, not at all. I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be some federal crime, anyway.¡±


    He tilted his head, inclining it toward Ben. ¡°You never said you couldn¡¯t.¡±


    Ben swallowed, pulling saliva down a dry throat. ¡°I just believe in myself a lot.¡±


    ¡°Do you, now?¡± Zeus said, his voice like gravel.


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± he said, standing a little straighter, leveling his voice. ¡°Shrike taught me that.¡±


    ¡°Lucas, yes,¡± he muttered. ¡°A plan for a plan wrapped in a contingency. Tell me, do you have a protocol for, say, my death if I took part in a planetary-wide spree of violence perhaps?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a very specific protocol to have, sir,¡± he said, but yes¡ªyes they did.


    ¡°Good.¡±


    ¡­good?


    ¡°Would you want to be more than just a sidekick, Benjamin?¡± he asked, and the speech about greatness, about aspiring for more (he knew it all; his other sidekick friends had told him all about it) got cut off when Ben shook his head. ¡°Ah¡­Well, I suppose you¡¯re comfortable now?¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± he said, taking two steps backward and onto the skyscraper¡¯s ledge. The hardness in Zeus¡¯ voice had vanished, and so had the blood stain on his cape¡ªpossible because of the heat he was radiating right now. ¡°Look, this was really fun and all, sir, but I¡¯ve got a date to catch soon.¡±


    ¡°It really was a pleasant conversation,¡± he said. ¡°Broke the ice, as you say all seem to enjoy saying so much. I could offer you help in getting to this date of yours, considering I stole you.¡±


    Ben smiled as the mask rushed down his face, then he somersaulted off the ledge.


    Zeus flew upward, just in time to catch the boy soaring through the sky and darting into the night, webbing underneath his arms aiding his glide through the illuminated streets below. What an odd boy, he thought. Then again, almost every human on this planet was odd in their own right. But this one was¡­different. Special. Lucas had hidden him from the rest of the team for as long as he could possibly have managed, but Zeus eventually knew everything. There had been rumors, yes, of a boy by his side¡ªyet another boy by his side in just the past few years. The previous one had unfortunately succumbed to the wounds of being gutted by Bloodforge for his organs. A tragedy, but Bloodforge would have been mopped up (as the humans say) off the floor if Ares hadn¡¯t found him before Lucas. This boy, however, was nothing like the previous one. Better, if he would say.


    A boy who would be willing to kill Zeus himself. He could see it in Benjamin¡¯s eyes. A hard set determination, a line that should not be crossed. Murder. He could do it if pushed, no questions or queries or moments of hesitation. That boy could slay a god without wondering if his sword was sharp enough or if he had enough courage. What a boy that Lucas had found himself.


    It was just a shame his own daughter lacked that same look in her eyes.


    ¡°Interesting what the shadows in this city can birth,¡± a whisper of a voice said.


    For a moment, he thought Cleo had appeared by his side, but she was currently busy in South America. ¡°Clementine,¡± he muttered. ¡°A pleasure as always. What¡¯s so interesting?¡±


    A girl in her early twenties walked out from the darkness and stood beside him, her short burst of blood-red hair luscious and fruitful in the wind, as if she was making it so on purpose. ¡°Nothing in particular,¡± she said, her black dress billowing. ¡°Just a boy who will change fate.¡±


    ¡°For the better or worse?¡± Zeus asked, glancing at her.


    ¡°Time will tell, sir,¡± she muttered. Her solid black eyes looked upward at him, feeling as if his very soul was being stared at. ¡°Let¡¯s hope we come to see it. However, I came for you, sir.¡±


    ¡°Another emergency to attend to, I¡¯m guessing?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°My team, we wish to access the Olympian¡¯s bank account.¡±


    He raised an eyebrow. ¡°For what reason?¡±


    ¡°Dominion wishes to buy pizza.¡±


    Humans, so very odd¡ªespecially the young ones.


    Zeus waved his hand. ¡°Go on. I¡¯ll be taking leave for the night, so make sure the rest of the Young Olympians are on standby. We don¡¯t want any other internal incidents again, do we?¡±


    ¡°Noted, sir,¡± she said, those eyes, those rouge lips, so passively cold. ¡°May I ask why?¡±


    ¡°Why I¡¯m taking my leave so early?¡± Clementine nodded. Zeus smiled and began to hover slightly above her. ¡°It¡¯s my anniversary, and being late is something I am physically incapable of being.¡±


    ¡°Enjoy your night, sir,¡± Clementine said quietly. ¡°Say hello to Rylee for me.¡±


    Summarized transcript concluded. The categorized events of the month and year [REDACTED] can be accessed if specified with reason. Names, both realized and hidden, must remain private.


    Both Benjamin Ross and Zeus have been classified as deceased.

 Interlude 3: The Devils Daughter Makes A Deal

    The last thing Ava wanted to see tonight was an eviction notice on her door, but there it was. She had left for just half an hour, but her landlord had seemingly taken his chances to put it up. Rent. God. It was something she¡¯d never had to pay for before, because when your father made millions in the span of days, then thousands meant nothing. Not now, though. Now it meant having a home or being out on the streets with a target on her back. This place wasn¡¯t secure. Every creak in the night and echoing shout down the hallway would make her tense and flinch. This entire building was a hazard to her health simply because of the black tufts of mold on the ceiling, and the rats that would scurry around her bedroom and chew holes right through her tights, socks, shirts and shoes.


    It was a miracle that she hadn¡¯t tripped because of a missing step and snapped her neck. Not that it would matter. Her soul had been sold long before she could even spell her own name.


    So, like much of her life, it was in the hands of someone else. Just like her empire. Just like my father¡¯s empire. And now, just like her housing situation. Ava wanted to be angry, to be bitter.


    All she could muster was enough energy to rip off the sheet of paper, ball it, and stuff it inside her coat pocket as she entered the tiny space. A living room connected to an open kitchen with a single window for ventilation. A bathroom down the hall spewing smells and sounds she would much rather never come across in her life, and a bedroom with steel stuffed inside the mattress and lilting yellow wallpaper reaching toward her like grubby hands. She hated this place, hated it more than anything. Just a month ago, she slept in a bed large enough to fill half the living room, and now she slept on the couch, because she preferred the rats over those damned bed bugs. It really was all she could afford, imagine that. Unbeknown to Ava, there had been a housing crisis for decades in Lower Olympus because of all the superhumans going around destroying them.


    And the few Superhumans residing in them would either kill or threaten tenants to leave.


    Ava could do neither, so she was here in a space that would have fit snugly in the villa that her father used to house guests sometimes, grabbing lukewarm beer from a rattling fridge and pulling on a small lamp sitting on the kitchen table to turn on the flickering little bulb. She sat with a grunt, kicked off her shoes underneath the table. Then off went the glasses, her tie, her cufflinks and then the buttons of her shirt, one after the other until she could comfortably reach behind her back and unclasp her bra. Ava sighed, leaned back in her rickety chair, took a swig of the damned cheap beer, and¡­did nothing. Just stared. Just sat. Just breathed and drank the minutes away. She had plans, a strategy. It was all laid out on the table in front of her in elaborate diagrams annotated down to the centimeter and millisecond, folders worth of information on dozens of people, and don¡¯t forget the cardboard boxes full of cassette tapes brimming with incriminating evidence.


    In anyone else¡¯s hands, it would be worth millions. Gems the color of old, yellowed paper.


    It didn¡¯t really matter to her now, she¡¯d fucking blown it.


    All because you wanted to be like daddy, she thought. God, fucking pathetic.


    The sound of a liquid tapping against the floor echoed through the apartment. The place was tiny and old, with thin walls and thinner protection against the breeze that slid through cracks. But sounds like that resonated. It wouldn¡¯t be the sink; she hadn¡¯t paid the water bill. That meant¡­


    ¡°You¡¯re home earlier than I thought you¡¯d be,¡± Specter said, flickering in and out of view, her white hood draped low over her face and that horrible, festering wound in her chest leaking all over the already filthy floor, stinking of rot. Ava only caught a glimpse of Specter as she stood somewhere off to her right, just about in the corona of the weak lamp. ¡°Unsuccessful, then?¡±


    ¡°Who would have thought that nobody wants to do business when you¡¯ve got nothing to offer them in return other than your name and some sheets of paper that means nothing to them?¡±


    ¡°Information,¡± she whispered, her voice ethereal, harrowing. ¡°You possess plenty of it.¡±


    ¡°Worthless to the people who would see me,¡± Ava muttered. She knew names, knew places, knew stashes and knew entire family histories. Hell, she even knew who the Daughter of Zeus was.


    The person she had told that very secret to just a few days ago had beaten her face in and said to keep her mouth shut if she didn¡¯t want to get left in a ditch again and again. It turned out that the lower-level street gangs didn¡¯t want anything at all to do with Olympia. They feared her. No, Ava figured that a better way to put it was that they hated her so deeply that they had no other option than to stay clear of her. So what if they knew where her lover lived, or her mother and friends resided? Rylee would kill them the moment they even stepped onto any of their front yards. She would hurt them, wipe them out in just a day, crushing decades worth of gang wars, truths and lies and the webs of warfare all in one afternoon, all whilst she quipped about how weak they were.


    That information was only useful to the powerful, but the powerful had narrowed down to one man¡ª-one monster: Caesar, and Ava wasn¡¯t going to shake that man¡¯s hand, not for billions.


    ¡°I saw the rent notice.¡±


    Ava took another sip, slowly warming up to it. ¡°Third one this week, yes. You know, I used to have someone who counted my money for me and kept things in order. He was a dog, too.¡±


    ¡°Sounds interesting.¡±


    She raised the bottle to that. ¡°It was, until he disappeared. Fucking Kaiju,¡± Ava muttered.


    Specter said nothing, just flickered in and out of eyesight.


    ¡°Where are the others?¡± she asked, her elbow on the table as she tried to gather her thoughts. Ava hadn¡¯t given up yet. Lower Olympus still needed someone at its helm, and Caesar being there would mean she would either be forced to leave for good, or be gouged apart every day like Prometheus chained to his stone. ¡°We still have things to discuss about our plans this week.¡±


    The hooded shadow said nothing. Ava looked up from the documents she was blarily staring at, waiting for a response. Any other day, and she would have threatened her. Now she just waited, because she frankly didn¡¯t have anything to use against her. Specter had been important once. A threat. A story that her father used to tell her about before bedtime, or her mother would use when she wouldn¡¯t eat her vegetables. An assassin. A murderer. Supposedly a mother who Awakened far too late in life in such a violent manner that it ripped her halfway out of reality. A girl who was murdered by her boyfriend, left to step in and out of purgatory forever. It didn¡¯t matter. She was cheap, more of a freak show than a good right hand now. No good in a fight anymore. Only good for gathering information when the talisman she was connected to wasn¡¯t too far away.


    It meant that, in all honesty, she was useless. Specter never told a soul where her talisman was hidden, because she knew she¡¯d just be used¡ªwhatever good that would be. The House of One had its secrets, and she was one of them. The only reason she agreed to be here was because Ava allowed her to use her body on occasion, being that, despite the gaping wound in her chest, she wouldn¡¯t die. Was it worth it? Ava didn¡¯t really know anymore. They hadn¡¯t done it in weeks. It left her feeling naked, touched. Olympia may have ripped her in two and spilled more than just her blood, but Christ, her mind being filled with the thoughts and memories of someone else was like having her brain scooped out with a rusted spork. But, in fairness, Specter was still here with her.


    Considering that nobody else was. O¡¯Reiley, that bastard, didn¡¯t count. Shouldn¡¯t count.


    ¡°Well?¡± Ava said. ¡°Where are they?¡±


    ¡°Gone.¡±


    She paused, stared at the woman. ¡°Where?¡±


    ¡°Away.¡±


    ¡°For how long?¡±


    ¡°Forever.¡±


    Ava blinked, sat back in her chair. Forever. Specter couldn¡¯t kill them, she just couldn¡¯t stay solid long enough to do that now. The few stragglers she had gathered had left her. Left her. Me!


    She stared into empty space, not at anything, trying to understand how such miserable fucking superhumans had the gaul to leave the daughter of someone who would have used them as foot stools just a decade ago. No, that wasn¡¯t right. Lucifer would have skinned them and laid them on his office floor like rugs. Fucking rugs. God, the damned nerve. She¡¯d paid them. Taught them. Used them to make sure that they would at least have a piece of this disgusting little borough she had been hiding in for so long, and the first thing they did was leave. Not a warning, not a note, and not a single clue of where it is they were heading to, or what exactly they were going to do. No, wait, hang on. Ava shook her head, laughed a little under her breath as she realized that she¡¯d just done them a favor. Those bastards now had at least a few blocks worth of Lower Olympus to themselves. Right, those idiots wouldn¡¯t last a month, no, a week without someone leading them.


    I barely have enough to keep myself drunk.


    Ava rested her forehead on the table and shut her eyes. The beer was making her stomach warm and her throat dry and her tongue bitter, and maybe she needed that right about now, because she didn¡¯t have anything else left. The Guild was destroyed. O¡¯Reiley had fucked off with her bank accounts, or maybe it was that damned Kaiju¡­she didn¡¯t know, couldn¡¯t really remember who had put a gun to her head and told her to write them all down or else they¡¯d just keep pulling her apart for days on end. Yes, she was somewhat immortal. But she aged. She grew. And having your gut yanked out from your torso for a week by a man who used to spit shine her shoes was a nightmare she didn¡¯t want to remember. And that dog had watched, Cedric had stared¡ªAce and Damsel left.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    There was one account left, the one her father put in her name alone. She had only found out about it last year before he vanished. Well, more of a storage space than a bank account.


    It had been keeping something priceless. Something the House of One would pay in blood for several billion lives over. But it didn¡¯t fucking matter. Ceaser got to it the last she checked.


    The Book of Two was missing, meaning her soul was quite literally in his hands.


    He could cross out her name right now and end it all.


    But he hadn¡¯t yet, hadn¡¯t for months, as if he enjoyed watching her (Ava knew he was watching, knew he was always watching) kick and squirm around in the shit like the rest of them.


    Witchling would have been more than helpful looking for that artifact, but she, just like the rest, decided to leave as soon as she could, which just so happened to be the same time Rylee left.


    ¡°Ava?¡± Specter whispered. The stink of saccharine rot got closer. ¡°You promised¡ª¡±


    ¡°Leave,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°But our agreement¡ª¡±


    ¡°I said leave,¡± Ava snapped, her head jerking upward.


    She didn¡¯t find Specter standing on the other end of the table, but another woman entirely. She was tall and lean, clad in slim black armor plating accented with bronze. Two swords rested on her back, crossed over her spine, Ava guessed, and short enough to be useful and deadly in a quick draw. Short chocolate-colored hair lay wild atop her head, and those eyes, so stunningly sharp, so bright and wild, were a deep shade of green. Ava sat upright, stared at this woman, maybe this girl. She didn¡¯t look older than either she or Rylee, but her eyes told a different story. The scar splitting her eyebrow and grazing her upper lip said otherwise. Someone who had lived this life to its fullest and come out alive several times over. Someone who had been forced to drink bitter liquid iron to survive it, too. Well, survive for now. Everyone in this business, even the gods, eventually perished.


    When the woman stepped slightly forward, she made no sound at all. She wore no mask, wore nothing to hide the savage beauty of the shape of her lips and jaw. Ava could only stare, only drink from the half-finished bottle and look the girl up and down. Who are you? Ava wracked her brain, tried thinking about anything she¡¯d ever seen of her before. The closer she got to the light, the more she saw of the grit under her eyes, the scarred metal of her plating that glinted silver under the lamp, and her smell, too¡ªold blood, sweat, and sewage. A drifter, maybe? No. Not with that posture. Not with that body. A new vigilante, one with an agenda. However, she didn¡¯t ooze heroism, didn¡¯t look like the kind of person who thought themselves higher than other people.


    She didn¡¯t think it because she knew it. This girl in front of Ava was an assassin.


    Judging by the bronze bird head on her shoulder, she was from the Talon Faction.


    Ava sighed and finished her beer, setting it down gently on the table. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Avarie Rivera,¡± the girl said. Her voice was hoarse, strained, insightful and inviting, like a snake and its fetid aroma. ¡°I have been sent, admittedly grudgingly, to meet with you myself.¡±


    Ava folded her arms, smiled a little, possibly buzzed because of the humidity and the beer and the exhaustion of this endless painful spiral. ¡°Unfortunately I¡¯m not a very good assassin.¡±


    Her cat-like eyes narrowed. ¡°I would rather teach a cat to bark than you to kill.¡±


    ¡°Find enough Kaiju, and I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be able to.¡±


    A flash of silver flicked through the air, then the sound of a dagger slamming into metal pinned itself to her fridge. Ava didn¡¯t bother glancing over her shoulder to look at the damage as warm blood began to trickle down her cheek. Before she could wipe it away, the wound closed.


    ¡°Fancy,¡± Ava muttered. ¡°Why is it that you¡¯re here, exactly? What does the Talon want?¡±


    ¡°Your father,¡± she said. ¡°Lucian has been called upon, yet has not heeded the beckon.¡±


    ¡°Mm,¡± Ava hummed. ¡°He¡¯s currently indisposed.¡±


    The girl stalked forward, her brows rising ever-so-slightly. ¡°Lucifer is dead?¡±


    Ava shrugged one shoulder. ¡°Missing. Has been for nearly a year now.¡±


    She paused, her eyes drifting to the darkness around her. Ava followed them, watched the girl¡¯s body language, studied the thoughts she saw working through her mind, and that psychic connection they used to communicate with one another. More must have been outside, maybe an entire Wing. She had met members of the Talon before, and even met members of the Order before, too, and neither had very much impressed her. Their business in New Olympus ceased the same day Zeus appeared, and they haven¡¯t been here since. South America. Europe. Asia. That¡¯s where they did their business, but at the end of the day, the shine of this city attracted everyone. If the Talon is here, Lady Kami isn¡¯t far. Ava would have wanted to be part of this symphony, because just so many fun things were happening without her being able to do anything at all but watch. Rylee would be in for so many fun adventures, so many nights filled with bloodshed, sadness, and secrecy, because the assassin guilds did not play nice with anyone that wasn¡¯t part of their society.


    Not to mention that the Daughter of Zeus hadn¡¯t been seen in about two weeks now. Schools opened last week. The Olympiad had taken in its new applicants. And Rylee just vanished.


    Ava hoped she hadn¡¯t died. They never got to speak without spitting words at each other. Maybe in another life, she figured, they would be¡­not friends, but something of the sort, too.


    She had never had one of those, anyway. Rylee must have been the closest to it.


    ¡°Do you know of Lucian¡¯s possible whereabouts?¡± the assassin asked her.


    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s how missing works, I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Yet you requested aid from the Daughter of Zeus.¡±


    Ava smiled. So they¡¯ve been watching, but not for long enough. By her guess, they only began when her father stopped answering them. She never knew their dealings, never knew what they spoke about behind closed doors. It had been her brothers, her older sister, who sat in those meetings and spoke with the Guild Master and her legions. Ava had been just a child, the little one that her father would put on his lap and tell her not to worry, because when it¡¯s her in his seat one day, everything would be much easier. ¡°I did, but not to find him. That would have alerted several street gangs, reignited flames that I was unequipped to handle. That hasn¡¯t stopped my search.¡±


    ¡°What is it that you have found?¡±


    Ava spread her arms. ¡°My search and conquest has led me here, so nothing at all.¡±


    The assassin stared at her. Then, finally, said, ¡°You know who Zeus¡¯ daughter is, yes?¡±


    She said nothing. It was becoming a secret she might as well keep.


    ¡°My mother could always tell when your father lied,¡± the girl whispered. ¡°You are very much alike, Averie. The Talon requests that you share this knowledge with us immediately.¡±


    Ava waited, drumming her fingers against the table. Very, very interesting, this new wave of young people she so often met these days. A boy who looked like Zeus. The children of the few Olympians who survived the battle against Titan now emerging into the limelight¡ªat least, even more so now than ever before. And now this girl, standing here with her swords and her stink of mouthwatering poison, was claiming to be Lady Kami¡¯s very own daughter. Who¡¯s the father?


    ¡°Yes,¡± Ava said, ¡°I know who she is, but she¡¯d be willing to slaughter to keep it secret.¡±


    ¡°We acknowledge her abilities, but¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think you do.¡± Ava shook her head and laughed a little. ¡°She isn¡¯t the kind of hero that our families have gotten so used to bartering with in decades past. She will kill you and humiliate you, spread your corpse along the street and leave you like any other name in the paper.¡±


    Her eyes narrowed and fists clenched. ¡°She¡¯s no goddess.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s even scarier,¡± Ava said. ¡°Because a god wouldn¡¯t understand why it hurts when they kill someone you love. She¡¯s human, no matter what she says, and kills regardless of that.¡±


    ¡°Her father¡¯s blood was spilled on this very soil.¡±


    ¡°By a man just as powerful as him, possibly  even more so.¡±


    She moved to put a hand on her sword, then paused, stepped back, and released it. A spark of aggression, a tiny flame burning in this girl¡¯s chest, because she isn¡¯t used to being argued with. ¡°We don¡¯t need her identity. Ultimately, that will be damaging to us¡±¡ªAva couldn¡¯t help but smile, because someone was in her head telling her these words, because they came out stilted, odd, not her own¡ª¡°and in that case, we need to know of an individual she has interacted with before.¡±


    Ava rolled her hand, indicating for her to continue.


    The girl tensed her jaw for a moment, listening to those voices in her head, to someone else in charge of her. ¡°We request her name. As was last checked, Olympia interacted with her during the 12th Avenue incident just a few weeks ago, saving her life, as well as several others, including an actress, an unknown girl possessing unforeseen abilities, and the heir to the Donovan fortune. However, this girl seemed to be of high importance to her, and we request that you aid our search.¡±


    Ava stared at her for several quiet moments, then laughed. Maybe it was the beer sloshing around her empty stomach, or these ludicrous demands, because the Talon must be undergoing some kind of internal change for them to even consider asking for such information! Ava herself had been killed by Rylee for even saying her name out loud, and these fools, this guild of swords and shadows and secrets, who thought they were untouchable, who thought they were still as important as they were decades ago, were going to hunt down the same girl Rylee so deeply loved?


    Ava had nothing left¡ªclose to nothing left; she still had her wits, her mind, and a body that hadn¡¯t given up yet, and a soul for at least a few more weeks or until whenever Caesar decided otherwise. But here, right now, she realized that the Talon was ultimately as fucked as she was. But, as she breathed, as she wiped her tears and stopped laughing hard enough to hurt her own ribs, an opportunity was brewing right here in this room. If they wanted to find themselves on the brink of extinction, then fine. She had something they needed, and Ava really wanted something they had.


    She wanted power, control, and the backing of people with resources that spanned entire continents. That supplied militias and unstable warring nations that generated millions. Her father¡¯s days were long gone. His influence had faded. The Rivera name was a footnote in this city¡¯s history and remained a target on her back, her cross to carry and her banner to bear, but she hadn¡¯t given up yet. She did believe in this city, in what it could be. The days when it shone, when it was filled with life and color, drugs and murder be damned, was a reality that will happen again. Not because of her father, but because of her and her name. Yes, it was true that she always wanted her name in people¡¯s mouths, and not her father¡¯s right away. Not Lucian¡¯s daughter, but Avarie Rivera. She had failed, but she will not fuck up again. She had done things the way her father had done them.


    But Ava wasn¡¯t her father. She would do this her own way, starting now.


    She stood, rising steadily and placing her hands on the table, smiling at the girl and looming over the light that shone over the table. ¡°I know who you¡¯re speaking about, every single thing.¡±


    The assassin¡¯s eyes flicked up and down, scanning her. ¡°Her name, what is it? As well as her address, her father and mother, possible professions and possible hobbies. I know...we know of Katie Clear, but why does she protect this girl so fiercely? What does she mean to the Lynx? ¡±


    ¡°For that kind of price, I could buy myself half of this city.¡±


    She glared. ¡°You dare barter with the Talon?¡±


    ¡°I dare make a deal with those you kneel at the feet of, yes.¡±


    She stepped to move again, but once more, her hand did not go any further than the hilt of her sword. The two girls watched each other, one smiling, the other glaring with eyes full of hate.


    Like a dog on a leash, Ava thought, and not everyone can bite the hand that feeds.


    Silence prevailed, thick and laden with heaving wills in that dark and foul apartment.


    And finally, the girl¡¯s hand slipped back to her side. ¡°Name your price,¡± she hissed.


    Rylee won¡¯t be too enthusiastic about me giving out Bianca¡¯s name to an assassin. Then again, Katie won¡¯t either.


    Ava stuck out her hand, smiling, her eyes darkened by the flickering lamp. If there was one thing she had gotten good at, it was getting people to want to murder her. But she wanted this city clean, even if it meant that she would have the Talon¡¯s deterrence that was Katie Clear, as well as Rylee herself, coming for her throat. But, well, she didn¡¯t care, because heroes are all selfless, aren''t they?

 Issue #39: The American Dream

    I wasn¡¯t entirely sure of where I was, but the smell of orange juice wasn¡¯t supposed to be here. My first thought was that yeah, I had finally kicked it, and maybe heaven just smelt this way, but the last I checked, I wasn¡¯t gonna see the afterlife according to some ethereal creature, so we could cross that one off the list. Hell, maybe? Couldn¡¯t tell. My memories were hazy and fragmented, a little confused and stuck back together in bits and pieces. I remembered mom screaming, and Adam taking her away as the ceiling collapsed. Then¡­right, that thing¡ªthe Kaiju¡ªdigging its barbed tentacles into my skin and spilling my blood all over the stones that had crushed us both.


    It kinda just sounded like a nightmare. Something that didn¡¯t really happen. A story you told your parents whilst you ate breakfast and they only half-listened to your silly ramblings.


    And it didn¡¯t help that I felt amazing. Heck, Ry. Maybe you¡¯ve finally bit the dust.


    So why could I feel something wet sliding across my cheek, my mouth, my face and Gods, what the hell was that? I groaned, batted the tongue away, thinking it was the Kaiju and its tentacle, thinking that it was still alive, trying to finish the job and strangle me dead. And then the darkness barked at me, and I had no other option than to blearily open my eyes. Golden sunlight poured out of the window to my left, filling the room with warmth and light. Smells, too. Scents of flowers and wheat, soil and an excited dog who wouldn¡¯t stop licking my face. I tried to push him away, but he was insistent on tasting me, forcing me to sit upright at a snail¡¯s pace to fight him off because I had gotten so used to struggling out of bed that it felt weird feeling my bones not hurting and my muscles not aching. The dog finally gave up his pursuit and sat down, beating his tail against the floor as his big dumb eyes stared up at me, tongue lolling and droopy golden ears hanging low.


    Cerberus. That was the name dangling off his dog collar. Odd for a golden retriever.


    I looked around the room, and nothing jumped out at me as being weird. The dog was the most interesting thing about it. A painting above the bed showing a white horse running toward the hills. A pitcher of water on the bedside table. Two old books lay open on a desk, the chair pulled aside as if someone had just been sitting there, watching me either sleep, or the sunlight coming through the open window. I swung my legs off the bed and out from underneath the thick knitted bed sheets, and my feet pressed against an old fuzzy carpet that had probably felt dozens of other people over the years against it. I was still waiting for my body to cave in and stop working like an old, tired machine. To feel like shit. But as I stood, I didn¡¯t even sway or feel sick. I felt great.


    I felt alive for once.


    Strong.


    I clenched and unclenched my hands, feeling actual energy behind them. But there was evidence of the fight along my forearms. Fresh pale scars ran from my wrists to the crux of my elbows, rugged little lines as if some toddler had taken a light pink marker to my skin and gone crazy with it. But they had healed, healed perfectly fine. I had to admit it, I¡¯d been smiling for the better half of five minutes as I stretched my arms and legs, feeling like I wasn¡¯t constantly being stretched and broken and fit back together like some poorly made Barbie doll. I found a full length mirror just behind the door, alongside a towel and a change of clothes neatly folded on the table.


    They weren¡¯t my clothes, and neither was the large t-shirt and summer shorts I wore.


    And the girl staring back at me in the mirror was me, but not quite.


    My eyes were glowing, not as they had been before¡ªnot entirely golden like dad. I had a scar along my eye that split my brow, something faint, but it was my eyes that I was so focused on.


    My irises were glowing softly, not as brightly as they used to when I used my powers. It was a soft light, like someone had spilled glitter into the natural blue of them. I tried to turn them off, to make my eyes normal again, but that wasn¡¯t happening no matter how hard and long I tried.


    I rubbed them with my knuckles, palmed them with the heel of my hand.


    Nothing. They still glowed, still shone that little bit more.


    A knock on the door stopped me from staring so hard at myself. ¡°Heard the dog barkin¡¯,¡± a voice said. A man¡¯s voice, deep and husky and Southern. ¡°Figured you¡¯re awake in there, too.¡±


    I stepped back a little, not sure of what to say. Where am I? And who is this guy?


    Most importantly, shouldn¡¯t I be dead underneath some rubble right now?


    ¡°You changed in there?¡± he asked. I said nothing, maybe because I hadn¡¯t had a great summer of meeting new people. ¡°Fine if you ain¡¯t, I can wait on the porch.¡± Then I heard boots knocking against the floor, and soon heard a door creak open and softly bang shut behind him.


    I waited for a second before moving, but all I heard was him humming a song from beyond the doors separating us. I glanced back at the dog, then at the clothes on the table. I decided to put them on, finding that they were just a plain white t-shirt with a red collar and tired blue jeans that fit me a little too well. These were probably the cleanest clothes I¡¯d worn in weeks. I found a pair of sneakers underneath the bed, shrugged, and slid into them, and to my surprise, they were perfect as well. Maybe that creature I had met was wrong about me not seeing the afterlife. New clothes, new shoes¡ªI smelt of perfume, actual perfume and not the cheap stuff I bought from the corner store. My hair was combed. Actually combed. Full and thick, a dirty blonde, but oh my Gods, a part of me kinda wished Bianca was here to check me out the same way my reflection was doing right now.


    What can I say, I actually felt clean for once. Energetic. Willing to do this shit. The last time my body didn¡¯t hurt constantly was way back in middle school when I didn¡¯t have my powers yet.


    I could actually breathe in and out without having to sigh a little.


    Slowly opening the door, I was led into a short hallway, with a couple of other bedrooms on either side of the hallway, all empty. Picture frames hung on the walls, pictures that slowed my walk toward the main room at the end of the hallway. Several caught my eye, just because of what the pictures were and who was in them. A very young Cleopatra standing on top of a slain Kaiju, her sword on her shoulder still dripping green blood as she looked off toward a group of civilians. Ares kneeling beside a little boy who was a pudgy reflection of him, ruffling his blonde hair¡ªhis son, right. What was his name again? I couldn¡¯t remember. He must be around my age now. Hermes. Heka. Even Lucas without his cowl, crouched atop a building with another guy in a deep blue costume beside him. Ben. It had to be. Nobody else could make Lucas smile like that. Ever.


    And there was dad, too. A picture that stopped me dead on the soft carpet. He wasn¡¯t in his costume or his regalia, but normal clothes. Human clothes. A Hawaiian shirt and white shorts, beer in his hand and a smile on his face as he spoke to someone who looked a little too much like Witchling for my liking. I¡¯ve never seen you look so human. I took the picture off the wall, angled it toward the yellow sunlight cascading through the bedroom behind me. I had seen almost every single picture taken of him. Dug through forums and chat rooms that barely existed, just to see him.


    I hadn¡¯t seen this picture before, and Gods, the Lord of the Sky looked just like them.


    The man outside sang a little louder. Cerberus barked, wagging his tail as he stared at me, waiting for the door to be opened. I pulled myself away from the pictures, setting the frame of dad and the red-haired woman back on the wall. I entered the living room, saw the charred fireplace, the empty tea mugs on the kitchen counter, and the sandwiches covered by napkins. I wasn¡¯t hungry, I realized, something I wasn¡¯t used to. I was in such a good mood that the man¡¯s offbeat singing didn¡¯t even annoy me all that much as I opened the fly door and then the main door.


    He was sitting on an old rocking chair, not swinging back-and-forth, but stable as he tried to spark his zippo. A thick cigar hung from one end of his mouth, his singing escaping from the other end. And he was big, very big. Broad shoulders. A close-cut ash-gray beard and even grayer hair. His face was lined with smile lines, but also with the deep creases of worry along his forehead. In a checkered black and red shirt unbuttoned to show his vest, tired blue jeans and old work boots, I really, really couldn¡¯t help but wonder if I wasn¡¯t dreaming right now. Maybe I¡¯m dying under the rubble right now and this is my life flashing before my eyes. But I never did like lumberjacks.


    And I had no clue who this guy was in the slightest.


    ¡°Damned thing,¡± he muttered, as the zippo only spat sparks. ¡°Swear I just changed it¡­¡±


    I pointed my finger to the cigar¡¯s end, making a short bolt of electricity leap from my fingertip. I had expected a spark, or an even shorter burst, but hell, it lit the cigar for him, and it looked like I meant to do that, so I¡¯d shelve that for now. Still, that was new to me. Then again, I had looked just like dad used to when Adam nearly got me. I didn¡¯t know what was going on with me, or where I was, but the old man was laughing as he inhaled the smoke, and that distracted me.


    ¡°Neat little trick you got there,¡± he said. ¡°The boys in the war woulda loved you.¡±


    ¡°Hey, not to be rude¡ªand thanks for the clothes, I guess¡ªbut where am I?¡±


    The man waved his hand out in front of him, and that¡¯s when I saw the fields of lush golden wheat swishing and swaying for miles upon miles in front of us. An old truck on his lawn, the dog running circles around a tree, maybe trying to catch a bird that was screeching down at him, too.


    ¡°This,¡± he said, ¡°is New Valhalla, came up with the name myself, ¡®cause you folks already took the Olympus part and ran it through the mill a couple times. Had it for a couple decades, yep.¡±


    It was gorgeous. And so¡­quiet. So very quiet. Peaceful.


    I caught him smiling in the corner of my eye. ¡°Lovely, ain¡¯t it?¡±


    I shook my head, then turned to him. ¡°Am I dead right now? ¡®Cause that would suck.¡±


    ¡°Death does suck, doesn¡¯t it?¡± the man said, nodding. ¡°¡®Fraid you¡¯re not, kiddo.¡±


    ¡°Then why am I here? How did I even get here? Last I checked, I almost¡ª¡±


    ¡°Want some orange juice by any chance?¡± he asked, standing up. He was as tall as I thought he would be, possibly just a little shorter than Poseidon. ¡°It¡¯s all freshly squeezed, too.¡±


    I blinked, confused. ¡°Uh, sure. I guess I could go for some, but¡ª¡±


    He patted my shoulder and headed down the creaky patio steps, grabbing a cowboy hat from off the porch¡¯s bannister before walking toward his truck, leaving me standing beside the wind chimes and the rocking chair. He stopped at the Dodge, looked around, then waved me over.


    I expected for some kind of monster to burst free from the soil and attack me as I hovered toward his truck, but¡­nothing. I could afford to relax my shoulders and unclench my stomach, take a deep breath in and feel the wind in my hair. Past the apple tree. Over a lawn brimming with wildflowers. His truck creaked when he opened the door and banged it shut, and when I tried to ask him questions, he told me that daylight wasn¡¯t gonna wait for anyone, and the orange juice was getting finished the longer I dawdled, so I had no other option but to get inside the truck, too. Cerberus leaped in after me, scrambling onto my lap in a rush of fur and dripping saliva, sticking his head out the window as soon as the old guy turned the truck around and drove down the one dirt road that split apart the sloshing tides of bronze barley. He remained silent for several minutes, one arm on the door, the other on the wheel, his cigar in his mouth and smoke out of his nose.


    ¡°Do I at least get to know who brought me here?¡± I asked him.


    He glanced at me, smiling. ¡°Open that compartment at your knees, won¡¯t you? There should be some kinda disc in there, somethin¡¯ country¡ªyou pick, though. Don¡¯t know what kids are into anymore these days. Old gal ain¡¯t got the ability to connect to the internet, you know.¡±


    I stared at him, wondering if I¡¯d somehow traveled through time. ¡°Answers, old man.¡±


    He shrugged one shoulder. ¡°A little birdie dropped you off, said you needed help.¡± He tilted his head, and I saw a white feather singed at its tip tucked away in the band of leather circling his head. ¡°A good man, I suppose, but always a little too busy to let himself breathe in the fresh air.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, the last time I checked again, I also can¡¯t afford to sit around and do that.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re right, kiddo,¡± he said to me, the truck rocking over each rut. ¡°Oranges first.¡±


    ¡°Oranges?¡± I asked. ¡°There could be some kind of monster in New Olympus right now.¡±


    ¡°Mmm,¡± he hummed, nodding. ¡°Quite unfortunate, but I do think you need some oranges.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s so special about some oranges?¡±


    He glanced at me, his amber eyes twinkling. ¡°You feel great right now, don¡¯t you?¡±


    I shrugged a little. ¡°I mean, sure. But my powers are probably helping with that, too.¡±


    ¡°Can your powers bring you back from the dead?¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Are you saying that I died?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he said, grinning. ¡°But these oranges can sure as hell keep you alive, tell you what.¡±


    Right, and I can turn invisible. I figured that the questions I had weren¡¯t going to get an answer from this guy, so I stayed relatively quiet for several minutes. I rested my arm on the door, watched as we passed by miles of wheat bursting to be harvested, so bright and yellow it was almost like someone had spilled paint over them from above. You never realize how much New Olympus reeked until you got into the open air, and when you could smell almost everything in a thirty block radius, a change like this felt like breathing for the first time. The air was sweet, clean, and filled with birds that weren¡¯t covered in oils or soot or screeching as they fought over a severed finger. Doves in trees roosting on the branches that reached over the road. Tiny chicks tweeting as they got fed. We drove down this silent winding road for what felt like thirty minutes. Minutes of soft country music and the smell of an oak-scented cigar. Of passing by trees that lined either side of us. I kept waiting for something to happen. For him to pull over and for villains to come for me.


    Nothing like that happened, and it still left me on edge. I found that my foot wouldn¡¯t stop bouncing, my finger wouldn¡¯t stop tapping. I had been clenching my hand for five minutes now. I caught myself staring out into the trees, past the fields, squinting to make sure those birds weren¡¯t following us, and that animal was just a worm burrowing into the soil. The silence was killing me.


    Doing nothing except sitting here was killing me. Thoughts began filling my head. Ideas on what to do about Cassie, about mom and how she¡¯d been saved by Adam. Still so much to do, Ry.


    And I felt guilty for even being here in the middle of nowhere, like I was wasting time.


    That thing, for all I knew, had escaped, and was spilling through my city right now. How many more people had gotten sick since I¡¯d been away and turned into more of those things? How many others had been dragged into its fleshy mass and torn apart, just to be put back together as some mess of barbed tentacles? Families trapped in homes because one of their own had turned. No way out, maybe they tried to kill it, stab it, shoot it, but nothing happened, so now their brother, their sister, their mom or dad was gushing blood and worms and organs as they got closer to them.


    A hand shook my shoulder. I flinched, nearly swung. The man with the cigar was smiling at me, head tilted. The truck was off, and we¡¯d stopped in an area that looked like a real life painting.


    It was a picnic area, a sweeping glade of trees and red wooden tables, stands that handed out fruit and grills surrounded by men in pink aprons. There weren¡¯t any children, that¡¯s what I noticed first. Just older people, old in about their sixties or seventies. Silver hair. Tired skin. But they were smiling, not weirdly, just naturally. Having a good time. Eating. Playing cards. Smoking and drinking and minding their business in this area of about several dozen people. At the far end of the glade was a wooden cabin, a two-story thing that overlooked everything. There was a wrap-around balcony on its second floor, with the sliding glass doors open, meaning its curtains were billowing and that scent of oranges that had woken me up was pouring right out of it, too.


    I had to stand beside the Dodge for several moments, trying to understand what was going on here. Is this some kind of cult? Should I fight them or something? They all looked so happy, so cheery, that it rubbed me the wrong way. Not because I was being an ass about it, but because most people in New Olympus weren¡¯t exactly known for their smiles and world-renowned happiness, so being around it to this degree felt just so wrong to me, more so when they waved by way, too.


    ¡°Come on,¡± the man said. ¡°We¡¯ve still got some time before we can go into the Big House.¡±


    I followed, just because I didn¡¯t know what else to do. ¡°What the hell is this place?¡±


    ¡°Hank!¡± a slender brown-skinned man said. He was at one of the picnic tables, accompanied by an older blonde lady and a man thoughtfully picking at the label on his beer.


    The guy beside me grinned and led me to the table. I couldn¡¯t help but look at some of the people we passed, because a lot of them were glancing at me, too. Some had scars. A few had eye patches. I caught one man blowing on a beer can, covering it in frost. Superhumans. No, wait.


    Superheroes.


    I knew these people. I¡¯d read comics about them. Hell, I had figurines of some of them!


    I didn¡¯t have time to dawdle and stare and ask questions (and no, Olympia doesn¡¯t fangirl, I was just excited to meet people like me for once), because Hank was introducing me to some.


    ¡°Kid,¡± he said, resting his burly arm around my shoulders. ¡°This here¡¯s a gang of crooks.¡±


    ¡°Worst o¡¯ the worst!¡± the man picking his beer said, stopping to tip his faded blue hat at me.


    ¡°If you want anything to keep the party going, you come here, ok?¡± the smaller man said.


    ¡°Uh¡­¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind them, they¡¯re old and senile,¡± the woman said, smiling softly. ¡°Malory, dear.¡±


    ¡°Ricky,¡± the man with the faded hat said. ¡°And this handsome bag of skin is Samir.¡±


    Then they all looked at me, waiting. Oh, right. ¡°I¡¯m Olympia.¡±


    Ricky laughed, a husky smoker¡¯s kind of laugh. ¡°Kid, we can tell. Your eyes give it away.¡±


    ¡°Real names here,¡± Hank said, shrugging. ¡°Nothing to hide with us, we¡¯re all retired.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± I asked tentatively.


    Malory said, ¡°Think we¡¯re gonna use it against you, kiddo? Blackmail ya?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s been a shitty summer, can¡¯t really blame me.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll respect that, sure,¡± Ricky said, nodding.


    ¡°So we don¡¯t call you Rylee, Daughter of Zeus, Heiress of Lightning,¡± Samir said. ¡°Got it.¡±


    I had to admit that Heiress of Lightning wasn¡¯t something I¡¯d ever been called before (and it was only a little awesome) but thinking about it, of course they knew my name. Dad had been here once. He must have said something about me, and that only tightened my stomach just a little more.


    ¡°Sit, sit,¡± Hank said to me. ¡°I¡¯ll check if she¡¯s ready, but you¡¯ll wait here for now.¡±


    ¡°Check if who''s ready?¡± I asked, but he was already walking away toward the large, two-story cabin, smiling a smile over his wide shoulder that said, Wouldn¡¯t you like to know? Malory scooted over as I sat down beside her, and that¡¯s when I noticed she was just a little bit transparent in some rays of sunlight. I couldn¡¯t tell what the deal was with Samir, but Ricky¡¯s was obvious¡ªthe guy had horns under his hat, tiny things that wanted to stab through the fabric.


    ¡°We don¡¯t get many young folks around these parts,¡± Malory said. ¡°It ain¡¯t against the law or something, it just is that way, you know? I just wish this place wasn¡¯t so secretive, my Lord.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Samir said. ¡°We should open this place up, get some girls, some guys¡ª¡±


    ¡°You talk too much,¡± Ricky said, ¡°and that¡¯s unfortunate. Whizz shoulda kept the muzzle.¡±


    ¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind me asking,¡± I said, ¡°but, like, are you guys the Rangers?¡±


    This time, Samir¡¯s smile softened just a touch. ¡°In the flesh.¡±


    ¡°Holy shit,¡± I said, not gasping¡ªI did not gasp. ¡°Where¡¯s Trailblazer? And Gallant?¡±


    Ricky sucked air through his teeth, then sighed a little. ¡°Cancer, both of ¡®em.¡±


    That almost didn¡¯t sound real to me. These people were part of the Golden Age. Well, they had been in their twilight years during the Golden Age, but without them, then it wouldn¡¯t have happened. They¡¯d saved the world times over. Saved cities dozens of times over. I was sitting with people I¡¯d stayed up late at night reading about for so long that I¡¯d missed the bus too many times to count. It really was like meeting celebrities, because up until an hour ago, I thought they all died.


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, tempering my enthusiasm as much as I could. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that.¡±


    ¡°Eh,¡± Ricky said, waving his hand. ¡°Heavy smokers, those two. Mal told ¡®em to quit.¡±


    ¡°But those two wouldn¡¯t listen,¡± she said, her voice tinged with the kind of sadness she¡¯d dealt with, but still hadn¡¯t let go of¡ªjust like how mom sounded when she spoke about dad.


    ¡°That,¡± Samir said, ¡°and Wasteland was a son of a bitch to beat. All those toxins.¡±


    ¡°I just¡­Oh my Gods. I know I shouldn¡¯t say this, but I¡¯ve read all about you guys.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Ricky said, half-grinning. ¡°In those fancy picture books?¡±


    ¡°Comic books, Rick. God, keep up with the times. We had them on those gizmos.¡±


    ¡°Tablets.¡± Mallory shook her head. ¡°Birds of a feather. No wonder they hitched up.¡±


    I leaned over the table, keeping my voice low¡ªhowever much that¡¯ll do in a glade full of superhumans with tons more experience than me. ¡°And that guy over there, flipping the burgers?¡±


    ¡°Valiant Man,¡± Malory said. ¡°Still a hunk, even with a shot left arm and leg.¡±


    ¡°The lady downing the beer, her fourth one?¡±


    ¡°Samsara,¡± Ricky said. ¡°Always did like her liquids.¡±


    ¡°Shirtless old due?¡±


    ¡°Oh, him?¡± Samir said, feeding off my energy, leaning forward too. ¡°Alex the Great.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but laugh as I pushed a hand through my hair. Maybe I really am dead.


    ¡°I thought all of you guys, well, you know.¡±


    Malory sipped a glass of wine, then said, ¡°Only a fraction of us here compared to last year.¡±


    ¡°Guessing they didn¡¯t want to make the trip?¡±


    ¡°Pretty hard to make it when your grandkids gotta take care of you,¡± Ricky muttered. ¡°Heck, some of us ain¡¯t got nothing else to do or nobody to take care of us, so here we are, kiddo.¡±


    ¡°Honestly,¡± Samir said softly. ¡°It¡¯s a miracle that this many of us are here.¡±


    ¡°How come?¡±


    ¡°The shit we got up to back in the day, that kinda stuff burned us out quick.¡±


    ¡°We shot for the sky and the stars,¡± Mallory said, ¡°and now our wings are just a little tired.¡±


    ¡°But enough about us,¡± Ricky said, with more energy in his voice. ¡°Heard about your pa a while ago, Rylee. Sorry about that, kid. It¡¯s never easy having to lose someone like that. Never is.¡±


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    I shrugged and waved my hand. ¡°It¡¯s¡­alright. I got over it.¡±


    His eyes said otherwise, that he didn¡¯t believe me, but he didn¡¯t push it.


    ¡°Got anyone special?¡± Samir asked, which felt way too direct. ¡°Must be hard trying to find someone who can keep up with Zeus¡¯ kid. I mean, you probably don¡¯t even do the school thing.¡±


    ¡°Come on, Sam,¡± Malory said. ¡°Don¡¯t put the girl on the spot like that.¡±


    He leaned back, putting his arms up defensively. ¡°Hey now, just wondering.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± I said, before Malory could dig into him. ¡°There¡¯s this one girl¡ª¡±


    ¡°Kiss her, pop the question, and do it all whilst you¡¯ve still got the knees to get down for her,¡± Ricky said. ¡°Trust me, kid. If you wait long enough, your back will give ¡®for anything.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure if I don¡¯t die, I¡¯ll live to be like two-hundred years old. My back won¡¯t give out until the humans figure out how to get to Pluto.¡± Then I paused as his words sank in, then my heart was in my throat as I hurriedly said, ¡°We¡¯re not exclusive. Heck, I haven¡¯t even spoken to her in weeks. She might actually hate me, because I keep airing out her texts and calls, and sometimes I think about seeing her, but so many people want to kill me lately, so that¡¯s way out of the question.¡±


    Silence, the kind of silence that made me itch. Then Ricky said, ¡°So you don¡¯t love her?¡±


    ¡°I¡­like her company, sure.¡±


    ¡°And she makes you stumble over your words?¡± Samir asked.


    ¡°No,¡± I said slowly. ¡°I just talk quickly and mess up sometimes, what about it? I might have a concussion, so that¡¯s probably why. Hey, wasn¡¯t one of you a healer? You could fix that for me.¡±


    ¡°You know,¡± Ricky said. ¡°Your old man stuttered just once that I know of, kid.¡±


    Dad stuttering was like hearing pigs could talk.


    ¡°And that¡¯s when we asked what was keeping him out of the limelight so often.¡±


    That was even harder to believe, because I didn¡¯t want to think about mom right now.


    Maybe Malory could sense that, how I shifted and shrugged, because she asked, ¡°What¡¯s the girl¡¯s name that¡¯s making you sweat? Last I checked, I didn¡¯t even think Zeus ever did, too.¡±


    My mouth was just a tiny bit dry. ¡°Bianca. Bianca Aleja Ross. She¡¯s¡­pretty cool.¡±


    ¡°Ben¡¯s sister?¡± Ricky asked, brows rising. ¡°Holy hell, ain¡¯t this a twist.¡±


    ¡°You knew him?¡±


    ¡°Kid, the old bastard who brought you here woulda killed himself if not for him.¡±


    ¡°Wait, Lucas brought me here?¡± I said quietly. ¡°And he was going to do that?¡±


    ¡°Rick,¡± Malory said flatly, and it felt like a full stop, because he sat back like Samir.


    ¡°Hey, Rylee!¡± a voice shouted. I glanced over my shoulder, and Hank was standing on the second floor balcony of the wood cabin, waving me over. He headed back inside past the curtains.


    ¡°Guess you better get going, Heiress of Lightning,¡± Samir said. ¡°Come around some time and chat with us. It beats playing bingo with all these old farts every Tuesday and Friday night.¡±


    ¡°You only hate it because you¡¯re not very good at it,¡± Ricky said.


    ¡°Bingo¡¯s a game of luck. There¡¯s no technique in the thing!¡±


    ¡°Come play with us some time,¡± Malory said as I stood. ¡°And bring that girl, too.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think either of us has ever played bingo.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be a great first date,¡± she said. ¡°I mean, these two nearly killed each other the first time they met, and it was in a bingo hall. Now look at them, forty years and dozens of IQ points less.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but laugh a little, even if the idea of going on a date made my cheeks burn.


    The inside of the Big House was a lot smaller than I thought it would be. It looked like a regular wood cabin, with a bear rug in front of a fireplace, and heavy colorful wool blankets draped over almost every couch and chair I could see. It felt lived in and warm, old and almost partly forgotten. A drizzle of dust on a few shelves, the smell of wet wood coming from underneath the floor. It was old, tired, and the tiny holes in the wispy curtains, and the scars on the wood from chairs being dragged from the dining table to the living room were long snaking things deep in the dark oak.


    There was only one set of stairs, so I followed them like the genius I am.


    A hallway and a green carpet, closed doors and the smell of wood varnish. The scent of oranges grew stronger, filling my throat as if I¡¯d already started downing a pitcher full of the stuff.


    No picture frames, that¡¯s what I noticed. Unlike Hank¡¯s place, this house was barren. But it hadn¡¯t always been like that. The lighter squares on the wallpaper told a vastly different story. They had been taken down some time ago, but the house wouldn¡¯t forget; it wouldn¡¯t forget for a while.


    The corridor led me toward large, dark wood doors at the very end. Thick bronze handles, and accented lines of gold around the doorframe. I didn¡¯t know what to do, so I knocked twice.


    Hank opened the door almost an entire minute later, waving me inside.


    And to hell with what the fucking room looked like.


    Cleopatra was sitting right in front of me.


    I didn¡¯t move from the doorway, couldn¡¯t if I wanted to. Hank tried to gently guide me forward, and the man was strong¡ªI could feel it, but I wasn¡¯t moving regardless. I stared. I had to stare and watch her sip something black and hot and steaming from a small China cup. It clinked as she set it down on a small plate, rattled a little as Hank shut the door behind me. She¡¯s alive. Her legs were crossed elegantly, her dark blue jeans snug along her calves and thighs. She wore a white blouse, something light and wispy that showed off the tonnage of her arms, and the scars of battle that she had long since fucking won. You¡¯re meant to be dead. Soft brown skin, silky black hair interrupted by bursts of white that swept over her shoulder as she looked at me. Holy shit. Cleopatra was looking at me. Those eyes alone had turned countries to warring cesspools. The sharpness of her nose and the line of her jaw, the angle of her eyes, and the face of a queen.


    I had to remember to breathe, or else my head would be smacking against her floor.


    You died the same day my father did.


    ¡°I shoulda told you in advance,¡± Hank said, ¡°but I like surprising the new folk.¡±


    I grabbed his collar, pulled him close so he could hear my choked words. ¡°Real?¡±


    ¡°Is she real?¡±


    Nodded.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, unwinding my fingers from his vest. ¡°Real as the sky is blue.¡±


    ¡°Rylee Addams,¡± Cleopatra said, and that would have been lights for me if I didn¡¯t choke on my own tongue trying to answer her as quickly as possible. ¡°Take a seat, darling. It¡¯ll be brief.¡±


    I walked stiffly, like my legs had never done this before, until I reached the plush red couch across from hers. I sat. Shuffled. Straightened my back and put my hands on my knees, but was this too formal? Olympia wasn¡¯t supposed to get flustered or anxious, so I had to relax, lean back a little, which was only just as uncomfortable, so I put myself back upright and as stiff as I could be.


    ¡°Now, Hank tells me¡ª¡±


    ¡°I had a Cleopatra-themed birthday once,¡± I said. Why, why did my mouth move?


    She nodded slowly, then said, ¡°I¡¯m honored, truly. Thank you. But your body is¡ª¡±


    ¡°And I once tried to get some guy to make a sword for me, but it actually costs a lot more than I thought it would, and I get paid peanuts an hour, so I tried making my own, you know, with my electricity, but that was stupid, because you can¡¯t do that to electricity, so I tried to bend a piece of rebar, but I¡¯m also not that great with weapons, which sucks, because I crushed on you when I was fifteen hard.¡± I laughed, kept laughing. Gods, you idiot, stop laughing! ¡°But you were dead, at that time you were dead, anyway, which sucked¡ªreally sucked¡ªand my phone wallpaper was¡ª¡±


    ¡°Rylee,¡± she said softly, clearly, which put a stop to my rambling. ¡°We¡¯re equals here.¡±


    I snorted, which was not what I was supposed to do. ¡°Yeah, right. You saved the world.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°My compatriots and I did. It was a collective effort, dear.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t change the fact that your statue is standing in front of the Olympiad.¡±


    Her mouth thinned. Did I talk out of place? Gods, does she hate me? ¡°Regardless of that fact,¡± she said¡ªbreathe, in and out, Ry¡ª¡°we need to discuss a multitude of situations, starting with your abilities, Lucas, the state of New Olympus, and your supposed brother. Tea first, my child?¡±


    I don¡¯t even like tea all that much. ¡°Yeah. Sure. I actually prefer it over coffee any day.¡±


    She smiled, but only because she probably had nothing else to say. She poured me a cup from a teapot so detailed and gorgeous it was almost an offense that I was staring hard at it. She finished pouring and set the teapot back on its own plate, leaning back on the couch as she rested an arm across the cushions beside her. Hank stood behind the couch, arms folded as he looked at me, gesturing for me to drink it. And so I did, holding the fragile little thing¡ªwhich was a lot harder than you might think¡ªcarefully so I didn¡¯t shatter it, just like I had seen Cleopatra do.


    I sipped it, a lie on my lips to tell her how much I loved it.


    But half the cup was finished before I even blinked. Then the second helping was gone a minute later, and I had to force myself to stop drinking straight from the teapot for some more.


    ¡°Holy¡ª¡±


    ¡°Good, isn¡¯t it?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Good?¡± I said incredulously, about to drag my arm across my mouth before catching myself and using a napkin instead. ¡°This stuff is great. How do you even make tea like this?¡±


    ¡°I lace it with my light,¡± Cleopatra said, turning her hand and widening her fingers. Threads of golden light snaked around her fingertips, hanging loosely like melted gold. They vanished seconds later. ¡°I tried with many fruits, but oranges have the best taste. The most poignant kind.¡±


    ¡°Gods, you could make a killing with this thing.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s for all to consume. Nectar is a drink for the soul, not the dollar.¡±


    I wiped my sweaty palms against my thighs, wanting more. Desperately wanting more. No wonder my body felt so good. Even now, I felt enough energy in me to go damn-near supersonic.


    ¡°But,¡± Cleopatra said, ¡°I wish we could speak about things such as tea and the mundane, but your city is in a state of disarray, and news about it is untrustworthy at best from my sources.¡±


    ¡°I guess your sources kinda suck,¡± I said, chuckling weakly. She didn¡¯t laugh or smile, and hey, maybe it was time for me to stop trying to get her to like me. ¡°Uh, what do you wanna know?¡±


    ¡°Adam.¡± Cleopatra raised her chin a little, looking at me dead. ¡°Who is this boy?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Beats me. I only met the guy a few months ago. Nearly killed me the last time we met. I think he might be my brother, because if he¡¯s a clone of my dad, then¡­I don¡¯t know.¡±


    I knew, but what that would mean for the thread-thin relationship I had with my mom¡­


    ¡°A clone of Zeus himself,¡± she muttered. ¡°Disgusting. He possesses your abilities?¡±


    ¡°Not that I know of, ma¡¯am,¡± I said. ¡°He just flies really quickly, and hits like a freight train. If I wasn¡¯t around, he would probably be the guy everyone talks about. He just looks like dad.¡±


    Cleopatra tilted her head. ¡°His eyes do not glow, yet he still made you bleed?¡±


    She was staring at me, staring into me. My skin crawled. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    She remained silent, not moving a muscle as Hank whistled slowly.


    ¡°What? Did I say something wrong?¡±


    ¡°No, you didn¡¯t, but the Olympiad remains his current home, yes?¡±


    I nodded.


    ¡°Shame,¡± she said quietly. ¡°He would never have let it happen.¡±


    ¡°Let Adam happen?¡±


    ¡°Let you bleed.¡±


    ¡°Are we talking about the same guy here? We¡¯re talking about Zeus, right?¡± Because where I was from, that¡¯s all just par for the course. My old man would have watched it all unfold, too. Not that I was bitter about that. The more my people fought, the more we struggled, the stronger we became. The more durable. It was for my sake, if he stood there and watched, and I turned out fine.


    ¡°Have any more of these¡­clones appeared that you know of?¡± she asked me.


    I thought for a moment, then said, ¡°Well, maybe. But she must be your kid.¡±


    ¡°I took a vow of chastity decades ago,¡± Cleopatra explained. ¡°Likely impossible.¡±


    ¡°Then there¡¯s a girl who kinda looks like a younger you, now that I think about it.¡±


    Hank stopped smoking his cigar and straightened. ¡°Got the same powers, too?¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± I said, nodding. ¡°Sword of light, arrows of gold. The whole shebang.¡±


    Cleopatra had been tapping her finger against the cushions for a while, but this made her stop. She unwound her legs and said, ¡°If you kid, Rylee, I¡¯m requesting that you stop soon.¡±


    ¡°Swear,¡± I said. ¡°Think her name was Victoria or something. Kinda weird but kinda cool.¡±


    ¡°And she resides within the Olympiad as well?¡± Cleopatra asked.


    ¡°I actually don¡¯t know. She just kinda appeared one day with Bianca. I think not.¡±


    ¡°Dammit, Lucas,¡± she said quietly. ¡°The man is beginning to slip. Something of this caliber would have been his top priority. Has he said anything about it to you, about these children?¡±


    ¡°Now that you mention it, no¡ªbut he¡¯s been pretty busy with¡ª¡±


    ¡°What, clones of the Olympians ain¡¯t high up on his bucket list?¡± Hank asked.


    ¡°The guy¡¯s just busy trying to keep the ship afloat, that¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°And if those children were to be used, manipulated, by the people who made them? If those children grow to be as strong as we once were, then who can tell what could happen to the world,¡± Cleopatra shook her head. ¡°I trust, however, that the correct morals have been enforced in these children for Lucas to have seemingly taken a back seat in investigating something so crucial.¡±


    I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable. ¡°I mean, Adam¡¯s an ass, but he doesn¡¯t want to go around killing humans, and Victoria saved Bianca, so she¡¯s in my good books. They¡¯re fine.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, I can¡¯t help but question if their creators have the same intent.¡±


    ¡°I¡­have no clue about that.¡±


    ¡°So neither does Lucas,¡± Hank muttered.


    Cleopatra said, ¡°Are you well-equipped to handle this situation if, by any chance, you were to face a boy who looks like your father? Not in his current state, but when his eyes burn, too?¡±


    I hadn¡¯t thought about that, I¡¯ll admit. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d like to think so.¡±


    ¡°Has Lucas given you a plan of action for any such case?¡±


    ¡°Haven¡¯t spoken to the guy in weeks. Just vanished.¡±


    Then she stared at me, as if I¡¯d told her I had seen an alien outside: absurdly.


    It soon clicked to anger when her eyes narrowed.


    ¡°His instructions from your father were clear,¡± Cleopatra said. I shut my mouth, stared at her. ¡°He was to train you appropriately if the time ever came that Zeus wasn¡¯t able to. He was to ensure that matters like these, problems as impactful as these, were to be dealt with accordingly by both you and himself. That man has left you scarred and broken. You understand, child, that the sheets you stained with blood, the countless beddings we were forced to change over these past several days, were because of him? His under preparation has been detrimental to your life.¡±


    ¡°Well, he did bring me here, and did train me, which is more than you¡¯ve done for me.¡±


    Cleopatra stared at me, and I stared back. Silence, long and heavy silence.


    Then she sighed, leaning back. ¡°Child¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Rylee. Or Olympia. You pick.¡±


    ¡°Hey, kiddo¡­¡± Hank said.


    ¡°Rylee,¡± she continued. ¡°There was a contingency for the time after our retirement. Zeus would be able to continue for decades onward, but the rest of us were growing older, our senses a lot blunter. Time would move without us, and we needed to ensure the next generation was ready.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing this is the part when you tell me I didn¡¯t make the cut for those plans.¡±


    ¡°You were our first agenda. Our first meeting. And the countless nights that followed.¡± She sipped her tea, then softly, said, ¡°In all honesty, we knew of your importance, not just to us but to your own people. Frankly, some of us were glad your powers did not manifest during your early years, else it would have been bloodshed on our planet, of which we would not have been ready for. But there was a plan in place, in the event that your powers manifested after any of our deaths, for you to be trained by several of us, not just Lucas alone. You are special, Rylee. And that man has done nothing but steal you away. Ares was to be your combat trainer. Hermes to match your speed. Heka to ensure your capabilities on the battlefield were lesser than nobody on the planet.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± I asked quietly, a lump in my throat¡ªmaybe anger, maybe not. ¡°And you?¡±


    ¡°I was voted off the Olmpians shortly before Titan betrayed us. My say was revoked.¡±


    So why did you make the world think you died fighting alongside the Olympians?


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t answer my question, lady.¡±


    Cleopatra stood, and the wind pulled her hair over her shoulder. ¡°You were to be mine.¡±


    I blinked, dumbstruck. ¡°What the hell does that mean?¡±


    ¡°It means that I saw your mother as unfit.¡±


    Now it was my turn to stand. ¡°What do you know about her? She¡¯s¡­maybe not been the best mom on the planet, but she¡¯s still better than nothing. Hell, you were supposed to be dead.¡±


    ¡°Rylee,¡± she said plainly. ¡°Do you know who it is that held you first upon birth?¡±


    I spread my arms and said, ¡°Hell, if I know. Probably some alien doctor.¡±


    ¡°Me,¡± Cleopatra said. ¡°I cradled you in my arms, and was the first to look into your eyes. Your father lost faith in his powers manifesting within a human, but I saw the golden light before it could vanish. It was my finger you held first. My chest that you wailed against before anyone¡¯s.¡±


    I stood, paralyzed, my blood cold and my muscles solid. I felt dizzy, light headed, and this time, I did sway. I did stumble. But she put her arm out and steadied me, holding my shoulder.


    ¡°The weight of planets was placed on you before you were even born,¡± she said. ¡°And your mother had swindled her way into birthing a child with a man who had razed kingdoms for you.¡±


    ¡°Stop,¡± I said weakly.


    ¡°Your lineage is gold. Glory. You were destined to be something, and I knew what your mother was, and so did Lucas, but not your father or the others. She was going to be your death, that¡¯s what I told them, and if it was God I would have fought that day, then your father was just meters away from giving me the chance to do so.¡± Cleopatra lifted my chin, but I was breathing hard, still not entirely focused. ¡°Lucas promised me he would do a good job. That he would raise you correctly, but all that man has done is poison your mind. He was never a real hero, Rylee.¡±


    ¡°But¡­he was,¡± I said. ¡°Shrike was a myth, a legend. He raised Ben to¡ª¡±


    ¡°That boy died chasing his approval,¡± she said. ¡°And Lucas watched as Benjamin went for Lucian¡¯s throat and missed. Benjamin Ross did not die because of who he was. The boy¡¯s fate was destined to change the world. He died because Lucas left him with Lucifer. Left him to be beaten. And tortured. Skinned and burnt and murdered, and if I hadn¡¯t found whatever was left of him, then that family would have never had anything to bury. But¡­then again, I wonder if I should have given them anything at all, lest the state of him leave a mark on their minds. Lucas killed him.¡±


    I felt like puking, like¡­fuck, I didn¡¯t know what to do. What to think.


    ¡°Why?¡± I said. ¡°He loved Ben. He trained him and cared for him.¡±


    ¡°Lucas only ever wanted the thrill,¡± she said. ¡°And a way for all of us to see that we either all go to war with Lucian, or make a deal to stop such pointless killings. His words exactly.¡±


    Lucas made the deal?


    He made the fucking deal?


    I stepped back, away from her hands. I stumbled when my thigh hit the couch, shoving it back against the wall. I needed to breathe, to drink in the air. Light headed. Sick to my stomach.


    ¡°Rylee¡ª¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± I said, holding a hand out in front of me. ¡°Then why¡­why did you stay quiet?¡±


    ¡°You must understand¡ª¡±


    ¡°All this time, all those nights I listened to my best friend wailing for her brother, and you just sat here in your cozy little fucking wood cabin drinking tea all day, doing absolutely nothing?¡±


    Cleopatra¡¯s shoulders tensed. ¡°Ambrosia, you know what this is, yes?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of it, sure, but what the fuck does that have to do with right now?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s deadly to you,¡± she said. ¡°It was deadly to your father as well. Lucas Freeman, after all the nights he spent trampling throughout the shadows, seized unthinkable amounts of it, Rylee.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I said, almost out of breath. ¡°It can¡¯t kill me. I don¡¯t even know what it does.¡±


    ¡°It gives superpowers to Normals,¡± Hank said.


    ¡°Impossible. Fucking impossible, and you know that.¡±


    ¡°The Divergent Virus lies dormant in most of humanity,¡± Cleopatra said. ¡°When we are all of age, it either dies, remains stagnant, or infects us, outgrowing our body¡¯s natural defenses. The drug is an agent that ensures the virus either hyper-reproduces, or awakens from its dormancy.¡±


    Too much info. Too much. I wanted to be angry at something, hit something, shout at someone, but Lucas was using this¡­this drug? How? ¡°How is it deadly to me and my dad?¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, I do not know,¡± she said. ¡°That knowledge was shared without my presence, possibly because Lucas was already beginning to sow the seeds of distrust between us.¡± She stepped closer. ¡°I could not say anything about Ben, lest he used Ambrosia against you. Your mother, too, was a secret I was sworn by your blood to keep. Your father trusted him, because he saw a human amongst Gods. A man weaker than him that he could crush if things went awry. I had fought Zeus once before, and I¡¯m still the only person to have said that several planets over as well. I was a threat who he wanted gone, but one he knew he couldn¡¯t kill. Lucas found a way for him to effectivly do what your father couldn¡¯t, and remove me from the team. Distrust, he said. Lies. Secrets. Clandestine operations I had undertaken to share confidential information to any bidder.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why you faked your death? Because Lucas threatened you away?¡±


    She stayed silent for a moment, then said, ¡°There were other circumstances.¡±


    ¡°Like?¡±


    ¡°Matters that are unimportant as of this time,¡± she said. ¡°Rylee, all I can say is be wary of him. If he finds out that we have spoken, then he will tell you that I¡¯m distorting your mind.¡±


    ¡°Then why did he bring me here? If he wanted me dead¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, not anymore. He wants you alive. You¡¯re his asset. His tool. He brought you here because his father would ensure that you were able to heal. The SDU then allowed this to happen.¡±


    ¡°So¡­he doesn¡¯t know you¡¯re here?¡±


    ¡°Correct,¡± she said. ¡°He knows not of my existence, but only of my grave.¡±


    I looked at her, at Hank¡ªLucas¡¯ supposed father¡ªand pressed my back against a bookshelf, my brain a mess of thoughts and information that was making me sick to my core and then some. I shut my eyes and palmed them, groaning, not knowing what to do, or what to say. I felt like shooting right through that balcony and leaving this place right now. I needed to focus on things I understood, like Cassie Blackwood being a villain, like the Kaiju that were frothing in the underbelly of New Olympus. Not Lucas. Not mistrusting someone who¡¯d taken pictures of me cutting my first cake. Who¡¯d helped me and mom set up new bedroom wardrobes. Who had gotten me my first supersuit and said I finally looked the part with a smile he¡¯d never given me before.


    I was meant to kill the bad guys, but I didn¡¯t know what that meant right now.


    ¡°I¡­listen, Cleopatra,¡± I said, pinching the bridge of my nose, forcing myself to breathe so I wouldn¡¯t start hyperventilating. ¡°Thanks for the tea, and making my childhood dream come true. But I really need to leave. It¡¯s getting late, and New Olympus is only gonna get worse off without me there, so¡­yeah, I¡¯ll just go now. Hope your orange-Nectar thing goes well. Mister, thanks for the clothes. I appreciate it. Just point me toward the East Coast, and I¡¯ll be out of your hair soon.¡±


    ¡°Rylee, do you now trust what I¡¯ve said?¡± she asked quietly.


    ¡°No,¡± I said. Gods, why did my eyes sting so much? ¡°I don¡¯t, and I really would want to, you¡¯re one of my idols, but¡­this summer¡¯s been so shit. I¡¯ve been betrayed and lied to so much.¡±


    ¡°Gods, that man, what has he done?¡± she whispered. ¡°I wish I could have been there¡ª¡±


    ¡°But you weren¡¯t, because nobody has. But it¡¯s alright, it¡¯s whatever. I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Rylee,¡± Cleopatra said. ¡°If you must leave, then fine. I cannot keep you here. I lack the strength, and you are correct, I have not been there when you needed a guiding hand the most. Just know that I believe in your light and your effort. It is not all in vain. And if there is ever a time that you need my aid, however much that will do you now, then call to me, and I will be there. I saw your light even before the world did, and I know in my heart that it will not falter because of it.¡±


    ¡°And kid¡­Rylee?¡± Hank said to me. ¡°Be wary of that boy. Ain¡¯t been right for years.¡±


    I was already outside, hovering slightly off the wood underneath me. The sky was melting into purple and black, spreading from the horizon onward. I¡¯d find New Olympus, didn¡¯t need their help for that. High enough in the sky, and it would catch my eye, like a shard of glass sticking out of the Earth¡¯s side. I breathed slowly, massaged my temples, and heard Cleopatra stop behind me.


    ¡°He keeps me away from that city,¡± she said quietly. ¡°From you. You fear so much, but you should not. You should never have been so afraid of the world.¡± A hand on my shoulder, and a necklace dangled from her fingertips. A chain of gold, with a tiny lightning bolt hanging from its end. ¡°For you, because your eighteenth birthday was missed, and so too were many others.¡± I waited, tentatively, a hare ready to run, as she laced it around my neck, putting the clasp in place, and leaving it dangling from my throat. ¡°Keep safe, and don¡¯t let your light dim in any darkness.¡±


    ¡°Lucas,¡± I said over my shoulder. ¡°What did he get out of making a deal with Lucifer?¡±


    ¡°No man survives this long in a profession full of gods without selling his soul, Rylee.¡±


    ¡°Selling it to what exactly? For what?¡±


    She only shook her head, resting her hands on my shoulder, as if to try and keep me here for a little longer, to keep me from killing something¡ªor someone. ¡°There are so, so many things I wish I could tell you. Things that you will need to learn one day, but now is not the time.¡± She may have said she wasn¡¯t strong, didn¡¯t have the power to stop me, but she was able to turn me around, and her eyes were so gentle, so full, that I almost forgot that it was Cleopatra I was looking at. ¡°I wish I could have seen you grow into the young woman you are now. I wish I could have taught you that heroism is no more complex than knowing who it is that you raise your sword against, and who those are that you continuously raise it to defend.¡± Cleopatra felt me tense, but continued speaking, her voice smooth. ¡°You¡¯re a child of pain, anguish, violence, and for a world that I fought for, a world where peace was meant to prevail, it hurts me to see someone so young so misguided by it. Your father did not die for us to watch you suffer. It was to see you prosper.¡±


    ¡°Jeez,¡± I muttered, rolling my shoulders to shake her off. ¡°Everyone thinks I¡¯m damaged goods, but I¡¯m still able to think straight, still alive right here and now, so I¡¯m doing fine, alright?¡±


    ¡°Then why is it that you shake and stir and tense, even when you sleep?¡±


    ¡°Nightmares, I guess,¡± I said quietly. ¡°They happen.¡±


    Cleopatra brushed a strand of my hair away from my face. The breeze had picked up, blowing harder ever since the sun had vanished, but it wasn¡¯t cold or bitter, but warm. Buttery.


    Peaceful.


    She smiled. ¡°Once you save New Olympus, once you save them all, come to me, and tell me about everything. If necessary, I¡¯ll risk even coming to you, if that¡¯s what you need at the time.¡±


    My mouth was dry, my chest ached. ¡°Why?¡± I asked. ¡°Why do any of that?¡±


    ¡°Why lend you my time?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t answer, and didn¡¯t think I was even capable.


    ¡°Because the wrong people have dedicated you their time, and when I saw you on that bed, so badly beaten that my mouth bitters at the thought, as I wiped sweat from your brow, changed your bandages and cleaned all of your wounds, I was forced to come to a conclusion, Rylee.¡±


    ¡°What conclusion?¡± I whispered.


    ¡°That I should have kept you in my arms, and should have never let you go,¡± she said. ¡°Veronica never understood the choice to wear a cape and fight for those around you, and she hasn¡¯t yet understood that it¡¯s those around a hero that ensure the hero never falls¡ªthough only on the condition that those around them have faith, too. But the past remains a memory, a series of regrets we can only muse upon. I know you wish to go, so fly, Rylee, but always know that your ability to endure, to have made it this far with the voices of hatred and doubt being forced upon you from before you could ever say your own name, is a testament to who you are. Don¡¯t let your chin be lowered by these people, or this world, lest they force me out of hiding to fight them for their answers as to why they would ever think of diminishing the hopes of my own blood.¡±


    I almost smiled. Almost.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said hoarsely. ¡°I think that would be kinda cool, us teeming up or whatever.¡±


    ¡°Yes, indeed, it would be very cool.¡±


    Laughter slipped out of me, quiet and strained. I cleared my throat.


    Then she hugged me, and for a moment, I didn¡¯t know what to do. She smelt sweet, felt warm, her muscles hard but her touch soft, ¡°Go save them. The people cry for their champion.¡±


    And when Cleopatra gives you the seal of approval to save the day, you can¡¯t say no.


    For the record, I didn¡¯t hug her back. My arms moved on their own. Olympia doesn¡¯t hug.


    Got it?

 Issue #40: The Parasite

    I wasn¡¯t the government¡¯s biggest fan, and making me wait for more than an hour was just another reason I considered throwing away the fancy little metal card that Overseer Two had given me. A few weeks ago, and it would have been Lucas I called first as soon as I got back to New Olympus, firstly for some info, a sit-rep of everything that had been going on, then he would give me shit for leaving unannounced. But this time was different, and so were the circumstances. I¡¯d been gone for two weeks apparently, and the media were making a case about how often I¡¯d been vanishing as of late, about me not taking my job seriously. About the bodies washing up on the Upper West beach.


    Not just a couple of bodies, but twenty so far. Dead, most of them


    A few of them, apparently (and according to the forums I scoured as I flew back) had still been partly alive when they were found. Barely alive, to be more precise. They would be wishing for death, was the general consensus, because most of them had been gushing with tentacles from large swallowing wounds along their arms and legs, one guy across his back, and a woman from her throat to her hip, like these gnarly tongues of slimy arms that would writhe and thrash and pull. And now it wasn¡¯t only Cassie who had them in her basement, but general hospitals around the city also had to figure out what this little epidemic was doing to people. I would have gone and had a look, but that thing hadn¡¯t reacted too kindly to me the last time we met, so I figured that aggravating them and getting a bunch of nurses ripped apart wasn¡¯t worth it for some pictures.


    So yeah, whatever the fuck was going on had just gotten worse since I left. The Mayor, for once, did something smart and issued a partial lock down of the city, but that also meant that her daughter¡¯s goons had more leeway in the streets. Damage Control had been searching through homes¡ªLower Olympus homes¡ªfor anyone suspected of becoming a puddle of organs and slimy purple appendages. The Kaiju Virus is what people were calling it. I know, creative, but the Society itself hadn¡¯t done anyone any favors by keeping their mouths shut. I wasn¡¯t one to vouch for them, but I also didn¡¯t really want to see dead Kaiju kids in alleyways, or missing posters being put up because a mother turned around for just a second and now had to spend lonely weeks searching.


    I was pretty much at a crossroads here: either go do this myself, or wait for the SDU.


    I could, of course, continue putting out small fires whenever they sparked, but I had been doing that for the better part of two months now and had nothing to show for it. My phone was compromised as far as I knew. Luckily, I hadn¡¯t had it on me when the ceiling collapsed. I had gone back home to grab it, but thought better of it after mulling over everything Cleopatra told me, then I had searched through my closet, underneath my bed, under my desk and even through each and every comic book I owned. Lucas may have been good at what he¡¯d done for so many years, but if I squinted from up here atop this stack of containers, I could see the trail of ants marching into a crack in the asphalt. I found twelve cameras and twenty microphones, a few of each in some of my clothes. Hoodies. T-shirts. Jeans. Shoes. Fuck me, the guy had bugged everywhere in my entire room. And the worst part was that I didn¡¯t even know when he¡¯d gotten the time for that.


    The tracker in me was still there, probably still active, too. Gods knew he must have put another one in me somehow when I was unconscious. He wanted to know everything about me, where I was and what I was doing and when. It was by sheer dumb luck that I had been either in my costume for most of the past few weeks, or the outfit that Ava gave me. Home hadn¡¯t been an option lately either. Now he was blind and deaf, and would be coming for a visit sometime soon.


    Besides, my powers were running constantly now. My irises hadn¡¯t changed back to blue and my muscles hadn¡¯t started aching yet. If I focused hard enough, I could hear the static in my room from each of the microphones. That was something new for me, something that had been so minute that I thought I must¡¯ve been going nuts trying to find them. My powers weren¡¯t better, they were just more focused. Maybe I wasn¡¯t that much stronger or faster, but if I could squint and see the faint outlines of people through the tiny guard building at the end of the dockyard, then¡­ Well, maybe nearly dying had been a good thing. Not for Lucas, though. The bastard still had answers for me. Gods only knew what Ben had to have gone through from thirteen to nineteen with him.


    Maybe that¡¯s why he snapped and got so distant. Lucas broke something inside him.


    Lucas, though, hadn¡¯t been the only one with secrets. From the amount of times I used to break my phones doing the superhero thing at the start, I¡¯d had a few extra stashed away in bags all over the city. I knew he must¡¯ve found some of them, because I¡¯d put tiny black threads along the zipper to make sure I knew if someone had opened them. From the ones I had found, eight had been tampered with. A few had been stolen, I figured from broke vigilantes or homeless people, but the impossible few he couldn¡¯t get to¡ªsay, on top of a skyscraper¡ªwere still secure. See? I had planned some of this out, even if by pure luck. So those phones were the ones I was using now.


    And it was on those same phones, specifically a tiny plastic flip phone only really good enough for calling, that I got in touch with Overseer Two. Now, the tiny screen lit up bright blue.


    Proceed, the message said. Lucas Freeman is now under surveillance.


    I took a deep breath and sighed through my teeth. Okay, I¡¯m actually doing this. The breeze was bitter against my skin and the smell of the lapping waters churned my gut, but turning my back on him was what made me sick the most. He had betrayed me first before I probably even had the chance to say my first words. Lucas had a plan for me the second I was born, and with dad gone and mom partly out of the picture, he¡¯d weaseled his way into my life. I hated having to do this, because a part of me always hoped that we¡¯d figure things out and maybe be equals some day.


    Turns out I was just a tool for him to use and manipulate for his own gain this whole time.


    One less person I could talk to, laugh with, argue against and ask for advice. I stood, the wind in my hair and the stink of the city in my nose. I swallowed past the lump in my throat, and this time it got stuck sitting in my gut. All I could do now was wonder if he¡¯d ever been genuine to me and mom for the past eighteen years of my life, or if he¡¯d just stuck around because he knew what it would get him in the future. I unclenched my hands, wiped them against my jeans, and looked up at the sky. Stringy clouds blotching out stars, planes and satellites skimming across the sky from one horizon to the next, and somewhere hidden in all of that darkness were problems far, far greater than I would ever like to think about getting closer each day. It was easy for me to leave, just pack up and start a new life in South East Asia for all I cared, because who could stop me?


    The only problem was the regime devouring the vastness of space that kept me here.


    I was almost a prisoner on this planet, maybe for my own good. The humans were never supposed to be so much of a problem for me. They were meant to be the easier side of the family, the ones that would listen, that would not be a big problem because I was here to save their lives.


    But right now, it felt like I couldn¡¯t trust anyone to even make me something to eat.


    You don¡¯t become a superhero to make friends, you do it to save the world. Shrike: Black Bird, issue number seventy-eight. If there was one thing Lucas had been right about, it was that.


    Coming home tonight was a little different from every other time. I had stood in the alleyway for five minutes, debating whether I should climb the firescape and wait for Lucas to find me, or wait in the darkness of the sky to see if he would actually go inside my room unannounced. It would mean the beginning of the end of whatever existed between us. In the space of one summer, I would be losing the man who taught me how to fly, even though he never could, and my mother.


    But the city needed Olympia, and I wasn¡¯t going to change beside a mound of garbage in an alley so dark that the lights passing through wispy curtains barely made a dent in the shadows.


    So I climbed, pulling the rusted ladder down and hauling myself up toward the top of the short building. The slim black cat wasn¡¯t waiting for me tonight, and neither was anyone else as I pushed open the window and swung my legs inside. My room hadn¡¯t changed much since I last saw it in what felt like months. Dennie must have come in and made my bed, stacked my comics and even did some of my laundry. I had to, of course, dismantle the entire room to find all the bugs, but the sentiment still mattered. I owed the old man an apology and an explanation. I was supposed to have gotten his medicine and groceries, but had vanished for several weeks. That would come later. First, I drew the blinds and let whatever light slipping through them illuminate the tiny room. Then I did one more sweep of the place, pausing mid-air to listen for the hum of static. Two more underneath a weak floorboard, and another one behind my wardrobe embedded in the wall. I crushed them between my fingers, and sprinkled the bits into the empty trash can beside my desk.


    I didn¡¯t feel too comfortable changing in this room, but I wasn¡¯t supposed to. Lucas knew I was here, and also knew that he couldn¡¯t see or hear what I was doing as well as he used to. I had told Overseer Two to track wherever he went, watch him without Lucas ever getting wind of it, because that was the only way I could tell who¡¯s side they¡¯d be on¡ªhe had told me that Lucas would never do anything like want to harm me or use me, so I told him that I¡¯d give his people a front row for the proof they needed. I didn¡¯t know how many people Lucas had in his pocket, but I also knew that Overseer Two wouldn¡¯t risk losing me over him, not after I had told him very clearly and thoroughly that today might be the last time he would hear my voice. If it was the city he wanted saved, or the world, then Lucas Freeman wouldn¡¯t be catching buildings and killing villains. Anyone in the SDU, in my opinion, could do Lucas¡¯ job. Hell, Lucas wasn¡¯t even the first person to wear all-black and stalk around the night for something to do. People called him a rip-off.


    And people only ever really respected him because he was the only Normal amongst the Olympians. But if we¡¯re all being honest, they probably only kept him there to appease the masses.


    Like a pet. A dog that didn¡¯t bark when my dad told it not to, but bit behind his back.


    I had to keep telling myself this to make sure I didn¡¯t freeze when I saw him. I was angry and disgusted with him, but it had never crossed my mind that we would one day have to fight.


    Because I was used to killing supervillains, not people who had tied my shoelaces.


    And speak of the devil.


    I had just gotten done putting my boots on when a figure appeared outside my window. I sat on the edge of my bed, waiting for him to move. He was an outline highlighted by the bursts of flickering street lights behind him, almost as if he had appeared from thin air, no sound at all from him climbing the ladder or walking down the alleyway, stepping over puddles and around the bags of garbage just beneath the fire escape. I had never been able to hear him coming. It had been a novelty at first, something cool that fit the bill¡ªbut now I remained silent, just as he was doing standing outside my bedroom, his coat snapping in the wind, and his musk of regret in my nose.


    Are you gonna stand there all night, bastard, or pretend you wanted to see me?


    Lucas didn¡¯t give me the answer for the next five minutes. It was a waiting game that I couldn¡¯t afford to play, but one I indulged him in. The only way he would be able to see me was through the cameras I hadn¡¯t found yet. The lights were off and the blinds closed shut. I would be an outline for him to vaguely make out. On the other hand, I could even see his face through the window, how his hands were balled so tightly in his pockets that his fingernails were cutting into his palm, and then Lucas breathed out through his mouth silently¡ªfrustrated, angry, but nothing he can do about it because he still had some kind of agenda in mind. So he glanced one way and then the next, his stubbled jaw caught in the watery yellow lights, and the emptiness of his eyes no better. I stood slowly, hovering just off the floor by millimeters as he rasped his knuckles against my window three times, each one a little harder and forceful, almost demanding me to listen.


    To obey and to rush over to the window so I could let him inside my bedroom.


    So I made him wait, made him knock six more times¡ªbang, bang, bang¡ªgetting so hard it almost sounded like he was trying to break in. The last few were with the side of his fist instead of his knuckles, and that rattled the window pane so suddenly that it cracked and splintered a little.


    Then I took my time pulling aside the blinds and acting surprised that he was there. Gods, the look on your face when things don¡¯t go your way. I pushed open the window and smiled at him.


    ¡°Been a while since you were last here, old man,¡± I said. ¡°What the hell do you want?¡±


    Lucas, whatever the case or the situation, was still dangerously intelligent. With his black coat hanging off his shoulders, and the increasingly worse mess that was his hair, he looked like the kind of man who stalked around alleyways waiting to drag someone into the dark and sift through their guts with a blunt knife. He reeked of sweat and adrenaline, of the nicotine patches he kept on his forearm in a place he thinks I had never seen before. The rings of grit and restless nights had long since embedded themselves around his eyes, and I couldn¡¯t imagine having to stare at them every morning if he even took the chance to glance in a mirror. Lucas, frankly, looked like shit. That didn¡¯t stop me from hearing his elevated heart rate or smelling the peppered scent of fear on the back of his neck. I didn¡¯t know what he was capable of, and that¡¯s what scared me the most.


    ¡°You returned without telling me, Rylee,¡± Lucas said. His voice had been torn apart by strain, maybe shouting or time and those foul cigars he loved to have at home. ¡°That¡¯s a violation.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow as I leaned against the windowsill. ¡°Yeah, said who?¡±


    ¡°Me,¡± he said, narrowing his eyes. ¡°We work together to make sure people stay safe.¡±


    ¡°I never agreed to be your little sidekick.¡±


    In just a blink, he vanished and reappeared in my bedroom, a tiny white feather burnt at its tip falling to the carpet at his feet. Never seen you do that before. I turned, still choosing to lean by the window, my arms folded so he wouldn¡¯t think that I was afraid of him, but a single thought had crossed my mind as I had flown back home: not once had my father complained about so much as a headache, but the second I met Lucas Freeman, my body had felt like my bones had been put to a grindstone every morning. I didn¡¯t know what he was carrying that made me feel this way, didn¡¯t know if he had some kind of nerve agent or chemical or drug that he would put on my clothes or my skin or got secreted by the tiny tracker. I would just be driving myself insane figuring it out.


    All I knew was that I wouldn¡¯t be staying around Lucas for long periods of time anymore.


    Or maybe ever, judging how this little conversation went.


    Lucas had never come to visit me here, but if he¡¯d been able to just appear wherever he wanted like he just did, then he had been in my room more times than I could probably ever know.


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ¡°Nice little trick,¡± I muttered. ¡°Never knew Lucas Freeman was a superhuman.¡±


    He grunted, then said, ¡°Secrets are what run this business, you know that.¡±


    ¡°Like the one that made you decide to come over tonight?¡±


    Silence. We stared at each other. Someone was watching us from a few blocks away, someone in the air maybe. I hadn¡¯t turned around to check, but I felt their eyes. Perceived them.


    Whatever Cleopatra had given me had done something to my powers. Maybe Adam putting me through a wall and a pillar did something to them, too. But it also meant I heard his heart stutter.


    And Lucas¡¯ heart never stuttered. ¡°I¡¯m here because the city¡¯s gone to shit ever since you took your impromptu vacation,¡± he said to me. ¡°What were you thinking going there, anyway? You didn¡¯t think to consult me? How many people got hurt that night because of you, Rylee?¡± His voice hadn¡¯t raised, not a single octave higher. ¡°What did you think was going to happen by doing that?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a good thing you put a tracker inside me then, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Without it you would be dead.¡±


    ¡°Me?¡± I asked, tilting my head. ¡°The Daughter of Zeus, dead ¡®cause of some rocks?¡±


    ¡°You know exactly what could have killed you, and it wasn¡¯t that.¡±


    Slipped up there, Shrike. Cleopatra was right, you¡¯re slipping.


    There had been one other thing that Overseer Two had told me about, something else that had made me wait in the dockyard for so long. They never told Lucas about the Blackwood op.


    So why, in Zeus¡¯ name, had he known when to save me or the thing down there?


    Well, in my thinking, it was simple: he watched it happen; watched it almost kill me.


    The SDU had been watching him a lot longer than I thought. Overseer Two had told me to trust him, to not think that Lucas had been operating under their noses for so long without them noticing something was wrong. Assets become liabilities when they have minds of their own, he had said, and sure, it was crude, but this was the kind of proof I needed that they weren¡¯t on his side.


    ¡°Then why did you almost let it happen?¡± I whispered. Didn¡¯t bother flying toward him. I walked, my boots knocking against the hardwood. I stopped a foot away from him. ¡°Because if you¡¯re so pissed off about me trying to find out information that you could have given me ¡®cause you know what kind of mess I¡¯d probably get into, why did you let it almost happen? Lemme guess, Shrike wants to be the superhero again. To make me feel like shit because a human saved me.¡± And now I hovered to meet his eyes. ¡°You bailed on me when I needed you, kinda like Ben.¡±


    His eyes hardened. Not so much squinted, but walled up. His shoulders tensed, and if I had just been a normal person, I would have probably been hit by a fist getting tighter and tighter in that pocket in his coat. I could hear his grubby sweaty paw tightening and relaxing, and so I waited for him to make a decision. To breathe out slowly and mask it as a normal breath through his nose.


    ¡°Ben got himself killed when I tried to stop him.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m not worth the honor of a reply to my texts?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been busy,¡± he said quietly, ¡°doing the job you¡¯re failing at.¡±


    ¡°And the city looks great, doesn¡¯t it, when you¡¯re the one saving the day.¡±


    Lucas raised his chin, breathed in deeply. ¡°It¡¯s not time for whatever problem you¡¯ve got with me to bubble up. People are dying, and you¡¯re arguing, wasting time, when someone could have been saved from turning into a Kaiju. What is it that you want, Rylee? A pat on the back for being impulsive? For going into that building without so much as a plan?¡± He jabbed a finger into my chest, as if I felt it. ¡°You¡¯re eighteen, but still act the same way you did when you were sixteen. When will you ever realize that every drop of blood you spill is blood spilled for the entire world?¡±


    I swallowed my anger, trying very hard not to let the blood singing in my ears get too loud and too all-consuming. ¡°If you did a better job training me, then we wouldn¡¯t be here. But the third time¡¯s the charm, right? Isn¡¯t that what you tell yourself in your shitty little apartment every night?¡±


    ¡°Even if that was the case,¡± he said quietly, venomously, ¡°you¡¯d be the worst one yet.¡±


    No, the ball of ice in my stomach didn¡¯t just get colder, heavier¡ªmore choking.


    ¡°Still,¡± I said. ¡°I never agreed to be your little sidekick. They were human, I¡¯m not.¡±


    ¡°And that somehow means you can do whatever you want and get people killed?¡±


    I leaned in close enough to see the reflection of my golden eyes in his own empty little balls of gray that were lost deep in the pits of his skull. ¡°No. I just don¡¯t have to listen to you anymore.¡±


    A beat of silence, then: ¡°Zeus¡¯ daughter or not, you¡¯re here on this planet, and look just like everyone else. You eat the same food, talk the same language¡ªbleed the same red blood. Don¡¯t think that you¡¯re better than anyone now, not when the city needs a superhero who actually thinks.¡±


    I tensed my jaw, swallowed past the bitter saliva sitting at the base of my throat. ¡°Then where have you been all these weeks and all those times I needed you most? Where were you?¡±


    ¡°With how volatile you are, telling you that would get a lot of people killed.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡± I asked, getting closer¡ªhe stepped backward. ¡°Don¡¯t trust me?¡±


    His face was illuminated solely by the light streaming through the window, caught in grays and yellows and pale greens from outside. It made him look empty, his eyes ghastly. ¡°Give me a reason that I should. You need to be kept focused, or else you start shaking hands with villains.¡±


    ¡°Oh my Gods,¡± I whispered. ¡°You told me a few weeks ago that I should stick it out.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s before I knew you weren¡¯t capable of getting anything useful out of it. That kind of information could have been useful, Rylee. Critical in saving lives and toppling gang hierarchies.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help it. I smiled. Smiled in fucking disbelief. ¡°And what about you, Mr. Darkness? You couldn¡¯t figure out how to get that information on your own? Because Gods forbid that Lucas Freeman does anything else except feel shitty for getting two teenagers killed!¡± I jabbed a finger against his chest¡ªanother step backward and a grunt of pain. ¡°I do this shit, not you, because you never help me with fucking anything, Lucas. You stopped being useful the day that I graduated high school, but wait a minute, you stole that from me too, because if I¡¯d just stayed that day, then maybe I¡¯d still be in my mom¡¯s house and not here! But you just want things done in your way, the way that¡¯ll keep everything good, and balanced, but that way got Ben killed and so many other kids we¡¯ll probably never know about. So don¡¯t you fucking dare blame me for not being what you want me to be, because if I was, I¡¯d probably be just as dead as any of your boys.¡±


    The next half-moment, Lucas was behind me. And if he was Emelia, then he would have gotten me, but he wasn¡¯t¡ªhe was a man, a forty or fifty-something year old man who had been beaten and broken and put back together again several times over. It didn¡¯t matter how much grit he had or determination¡ªthe mountains he had climbed, or the swamps and rainforests he had waded through to get to where he was now: a killer in any environment, a hitman that had hunted down the unkillable and brought back their heads for his mantle piece and their spinal cords for his own sick happiness. He was just a human. Just a person. Just a man whose bones I could hear grind and whose muscles I could listen to stretch and contract and then release like a quick trigger. He wasn¡¯t going to punch me. He didn¡¯t swing. His hand just slipped out of his pocket and opened.


    Any other time, and I wouldn¡¯t have caught it.


    In this dimly lit room, with Cleopatra¡¯s nectar flowing through my veins, with my powers so warm in my blood that whatever light haze of rain I had flown through to get here had all but been turned into mist, I saw it. The glimmer of golden-brown dust on his palm, so little of it that I could have easily thought it was nothing but dead skin falling from his outstretched palm. So many times he had simply let his hands hang loosely from his sides after pulling them out from his pockets as tight fists whenever I had done something to anger him, and not in some secret way, not in some way that would alert me¡ªanyone on the planet would do the same thing without getting noticed.


    Not this time; not anymore.


    I grabbed his wrist before the dust could fully vanish off of it, twisted to see, and made him grunt with surprise and pain when I yanked him closer. There. A film of golden dust on his hand.


    Just the same as on the docks, smelling vaguely like it always had¡ªsaccharine and burnt.


    Ambrosia.


    I shoved Lucas across my room, and he smashed into my desk, exploding papers into the air and onto the floor. He groaned, tried to pick himself up in the debris that was the weak plywood and the tiny shards of rusted nails, but I hovered above him, making sure he stayed on the floor.


    ¡°You fucking liar,¡± I whispered, balling my hands. ¡°You said you¡¯d take care of me. Remember that, Lucas? When I watched my father die and you told me you¡¯d watch over me?¡±


    ¡°What the fuck are you doing?¡± he snarled. His blonde hair fell over his face, over his eyes, and there was rage in those pupils¡ªdisgust. ¡°Any harder and you would have broken my back.¡±


    I put my fist through the drywall beside his head, lowering to meet his eyes. I was breathing hard, too hard to form a sentence, too hard to think straight¡ªdo it, put a hand through his chest and pull his spine right through his fucking ribs¡ªbut I couldn¡¯t move any closer to him even if I wanted to. My mouth remained dry, my throat harsh as I swallowed saliva. A heart that hammered loudly in my chest, banging against my ribcage. Do it. I¡¯ve killed people for less. Killed villains just because they didn¡¯t want to tell me who they worked for or their hideouts and fuck me, Rylee, I¡¯ve killed people for stealing from grocery stores before! Pulled them apart and watched their guts flow. Watched as their accomplices shrieked for mercy, but I hadn¡¯t stopped then. Hadn¡¯t stopped me from killing my English teacher turned villain. Hadn¡¯t stopped me from disemboweling the first villain I had ever come across¡ªno, she had just been a petty thief. A woman stealing baby food.


    I had only done it because she had been desperate, because she¡¯d had a gun and it wasn¡¯t the first time she had gone through a store and done it. She had a rep sheet in the local papers and a page on lower-tier criminal forums. She was insane, sure, but she had a motive. Food, always just that, and nothing else. A human doing bad things for the right reason. I had told myself it was the gun, it was the thing that would get people hurt. So there came Zeus¡¯ Daughter to save the day.


    Lucas had found the gun before I did somewhere at the back of the store. Empty, he had told me, and shown me the hollow magazine. It was supposed to be our secret, my little fuck up.


    Something he could use to keep me grounded, keep me listening to his orders, because now look, Rylee, there¡¯s blood all over the floor, and her skull is in the produce aisle. What the fuck did you just do? Go, get home and wash off and do your homework. Don¡¯t tell a soul about this, too.


    And now, as I stood over him, I didn¡¯t even know if he¡¯d just taken the bullets out or not.


    Because I remembered there being something in that gun, and the man behind the counter hadn¡¯t died because of my outburst or my heroism¡ªI don¡¯t just put bullet-sized holes in people.


    You wouldn¡¯t be able to tell from the SDU report he¡¯d drafted and shown me. You wouldn¡¯t have been able to tell, because Lord knows that he¡¯d done the job to make it look like I¡¯d done it. To make that shaken, adrenaline-filled fourteen year old think she just killed a bystander because she hadn¡¯t been listening to his orders or anything he had to say. Listen next time, and be better.


    ¡°I should kill you right fucking now,¡± I whispered.


    Lucas breathed through his teeth, glaring death at me. ¡°Who¡¯s gotten into your head?¡±


    Before I could say anything, my bedroom door banged open, swinging on its hinges and smacking against the doorframe. Dennie stood in the doorway, a short little shotgun shaking in his bony hands. His eyes frantically searched the room, squinting through the darkness. I paused, my hand still deep in the drywall, the other still tight and raised, ready to do something I wasn¡¯t quite sure of yet. He knows now. I pulled my hand from the wall and stood, and that¡¯s when he stared at me, his blurry vision finally seeing something glowing in the dark. I thought he was going to say something, to say my name or Olympia or to start asking stuttered questions like they always do.


    Instead, Dennie slowly hobbled forward, and leveled the gun at Lucas. ¡°I told you to stay away from this building, Freeman. I put shrapnel through your leg last time an¡¯ I¡¯ll do it again.¡±


    ¡°Dennie,¡± he said gravally. ¡°Didn¡¯t think the old heart of yours was still beating.¡±


    The old man cocked the gun, now beside me, almost slight between us. ¡°Out, ¡®fore I pluck a bird and make dinner, and if I catch you back here, I swear, there ain¡¯t a thing that¡¯ll stop me.¡±


    Lucas looked at me, and for the first time, I saw something I¡¯d never seen before.


    I¡¯m now a threat to him. Lucas Freeman would now rather see me dead.


    And I should have felt good about that, finally free from the fucking guy as he vanished in a wispy scent of foul smoke before I got the chance to grab his throat. But no, I didn¡¯t feel that way.


    I felt cold, a little scared, and too much like the girl who¡¯d watched her own mother lock the only front door she¡¯d ever known as she stood lost and confused and alone, surrounded by her entire life out on that wet front lawn. Dennie lowered the gun and looked at me, his face morphing from anger and hate to the softness it always had around his eyes and mouth. I couldn¡¯t look at him, and I didn¡¯t want to. I always figured that Dennie would eventually find out, or maybe he¡¯d known about me for years by now. The guy worked with superheroes when he was young. He was what made part of the Golden Age what it was. He knows what a superhero should be. And a hero, no matter what, shouldn¡¯t have to tense their jaw, bite their tongue, swallow a heavy ball of cold emotion so they didn¡¯t look weak in front of anyone. So as I breathed out, it came out shaky. As I stepped toward the window to start my night, to start looking for a man I should have started searching for weeks ago, a hand stopped me from leaving. A weak hand that felt warm to my skin.


    I had to pull my arm away, had to duck underneath the window and stand outside on the weak fire escape.


    ¡°Before Ben,¡± he said behind me quietly, his words like a hook keeping me there, ¡°and before the other one, there was a girl.¡±


    I waited to hear what he had to say, just so I could distract myself from my tightening chest and my twisting gut and the bile in my throat that so very much wanted to rush into my mouth.


    ¡°She was the first,¡± Dennie said. ¡°The first that any of us know about. She was young, and she was talented, and she was damn smart, and she was a natural. A fighter, salt of the earth type.¡±


    ¡°What happened to her?¡± I muttered. ¡°Dead?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he said softly. ¡°Alive in London, has her own pottery shop. Lucas¡¯ sister was always the better one, you know. But he¡¯s a piece of work, always has been. She left because Lucas was supposed to stop a long time ago. She was meant to be the one to keep going. Shrike was her name to begin with, but the cunt stole it from her. It was supposed to be something he did to blow off steam, something he could do to help people, then he started killing, started using her name to make them afraid of every single shadow. Lucas Freeman ain¡¯t no normal man, and she knew that, resented him for that. They fought, and she won¡ªbeat him seven ways to hell, and then she left him there in that alleyway to bleed into the same filth that he wanted to sift through every night. He¡¯ll try and come back, Ry, and you¡¯ve gotta tell him to leave. But don¡¯t kill him, never kill him.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s hurt so many fucking people,¡± I said, nearly spitting the words. ¡°He deserves it.¡±


    ¡°And didn¡¯t you see it?¡± he said. ¡°That look in his eyes? He wanted it, a part of him really does want it. He¡¯ll find it cathartic, that bastard, ¡®cause he¡¯s so screwed in the head. But you don¡¯t give him what he wants, Olympia, because what kills that kind of man is seeing other people do fine without him, so you''ve got to go out there and save these people and make him hurt. It¡¯s poison, and that man is dying¡ªmake him rot, but don¡¯t let him go quietly.¡±


    Oh, trust me. I won¡¯t.

 Issue #41: Being Better

    Ryan Kennedy wasn¡¯t the kind of man who wanted to be found easily, especially not by Olympia. Every single dive bar and backalley I went to dressed as myself got one reaction: swearing, then screaming, and inevitably, a fight. With the city on partial lockdown, the criminals had taken it upon themselves to show everyone they weren¡¯t afraid of neither Damage Control nor the police who were circulating through the empty streets. Didn¡¯t really matter to me, and frankly, after seeing Lucas, my head wasn¡¯t fully in it. Tonight wasn¡¯t about wanting to kill these filthy little roaches, no matter how many rounds they dumped against my chest, or the flashes of red fire they shot at me.


    It was about the bigger threat, the thing I could smell in the air¡ªthe stink of dead Kaiju. It was in homes and it spewed out from the sewers and gushed out of boarded up apartments. It was getting so bad that a part of me barely wanted to be down here to inhale it. Any other day and I would have been able to pinpoint where the stink was coming from, but the gusty winds of fall were churning the air and making the stench worse and worse with each passing minute. For all I knew, the entire city smelt like this, like the monsters Cassie had kept, and the one I accidentally killed, were congregating just beneath the asphalt deep in the sewer systems, brewing for an attack.


    And Ryan Kennedy would know something about the Kaiju Society, because I needed to have a little bit of a word with them. It was a shame that nobody seemed to want to tell me where he was. Something to do with being afraid of what he knows, and what that would mean for them. Ryan, judging by the thugs who so willingly threw themselves at me, wasn¡¯t too popular amongst the rats and the garbage of Lower Olympus. That just made me want to find out more about him.


    ¡°If you¡¯re done lowering property prices, you can put those guns down and talk to me.¡±


    I had spent three hours searching by now, and every single minute had been more than felt ever since I had left home. For the first time that I could remember, I felt¡­weird, almost distracted. I kept scanning the faces of the criminals I met, the shadows I passed, waiting for Lucas to slip out from the darkness like some creature out of a hellish nightmare, and then¡­ I didn¡¯t know what, really. An apology would be heard, but it would not be accepted. That bridge had been burnt, and stomaching it was harder than I thought it would be. Even now, as I sat inside whichever bar I had found myself in right now, my rear on the counter and my boots dripping blood after I kicked some guy¡¯s chest in by accident, I couldn¡¯t get the look in Lucas¡¯ eyes out of my head. The judgment, the hate, this anger so primal and disgusting that it made my stomach tighten and blood a lot colder.


    Lucas knew where Bianca lived. He knew where Emelia, Grant, and Michael lived. My mom might have been a piece of work, but losing her to him would be the straw that broke a city.


    As for the man whose chest was now protruding out of his back, I was kinda sorry, because I was usually a lot more accurate and meaningful with my killing, but if he was still alive to listen, I would tell him to take that spinal problem up with Lucas for distracting me tonight. I couldn¡¯t really remember if I had kicked him or stepped on him or simply lost track of where my foot was when I burst through the air and used him as a platform, and I didn¡¯t care. Poor guy was dead, anyway.


    The rest of them weren¡¯t in great shape either. Most were on the floor groaning, and maybe it was because I had bigger things on my mind, but only two of them were dead. The man whose chest I had stepped through, and the bar keeper who just pointed a shotgun at my back a second ago and sent shrapnel burrowing through his face. I straightened and rolled my shoulders, sighed and glanced down at his sprawled body, his skewered arms and legs and the meat of his face. I warned you and you didn¡¯t listen. What the hell did you think was gonna happen? I turned back around to look at the five or so guys who were still rearing for a fight, maybe for glory, maybe because I had killed one of their buddies before, but they were all hurting, hobbling, trying to hold their guns steady but couldn¡¯t even if they tried. So I watched as they all collapsed or passed out, either from exertion, pain, or their willpower giving up on them after missing every single shot.


    ¡°Finally,¡± I muttered. ¡°Now, I¡¯m gonna repeat myself: does anyone know where he is?¡±


    A collective groan. A couple of them swearing as they curled up into balls that rocked a little, as if they really were terrified of me being here. Maybe it¡¯s a waste of time. Onto the next.


    If there was a next. I¡¯d gotten through a couple bars, maybe ten, possibly more. I left a message in each of them with people who I¡¯d forced into doing what I said with a kind suggestion lest I dismantled their spinal column. Ryan Kennedy, Olympia¡¯s looking for you, and that was the message. Simple and effective, but my burner phone hadn¡¯t rang yet, so it had turned out useless.


    Information gathering wasn¡¯t my strongest suit, but without Lucas, it had to be. He had taught Ben how to search, to learn¡ªto hide and to listen. He just taught me how to pull out a heart.


    And now I was slowly getting why he stopped spending so much time training me.


    He didn¡¯t want someone as strong as me becoming as smart as him. Lucas had seen me as one thing, just like everyone else tended to do, and that had been a machine¡ªthe hammer that struck hardest, and the blow that would not miss. Not a glorified sniffer dog with key information.


    But it was also my fault for not figuring out sooner that being able to put my knuckles through a stomach cavity as easily as you would a wet piece of paper wouldn¡¯t get me far in life.


    I hovered off the bar counter and landed on the worn wooden floor. The lockdown had meant that most bars were just storage rooms full of alcohol somewhere underneath an apartment or grocery store or some kind of foreign restaurant that reeked of grease and boiled meat. This one wasn¡¯t any different, and the single weak orange bulb swaying above me as I walked through the bar could only flicker on the bodies I left on the floor. These guys were just criminals. Thieves and the occasional thugs, but that was boring and kinda not useful to me right now. Better just leave them for the roof-leaping vigilantes who wanted to grab some easy information. Look at me, helping my local community. I stepped over one guy who¡¯d drunkenly passed out on the stairs.


    ¡°Wait,¡± a weak voice said, and so I waited, glancing over my shoulder to see a guy whose arm I might have broken clean in two slumped against the bar. He was bald, had a snake tattoo around that pale dome of his, and looked just as wiry as the thing. ¡°You ain¡¯t gonna do us in?¡±


    I shrugged one shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t really have the time, or care that much to dirty my suit.¡±


    ¡°I thought¡­¡± Another man, this one partially face-down on the floor, groaned and looked up at me. ¡°I thought the Golden Girl killed criminals. What the fuck¡­ What happened to you?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a thug, why the hell do you care?¡±


    The man with the head tattoos chuckled, then winced audibly as he clutched his arm. ¡°Shit, ain¡¯t this our lucky day, boys. Here I was thinking you¡¯d shower us in blood and guts, Olympia.¡±


    ¡°Mikey¡¯s got his ribs stickin¡¯ out of his back, Jahn,¡± one man said.


    ¡°Fucker owed me five bucks, too,¡± Tattoos (Jahn) muttered. ¡°Lucky prick.¡±


    I turned back around and started up the stairs again, not really wanting to listen to these guys mutter and grumble and wake up from their enforced naps. I knew from the previous bar that it was kind of a thing for some of these guys to see how long they could last (if they ever survived to tell the tale) against me, if at all. It was like a rite of passage for some of these lower-level street gangs, some kind of initiation, too, if you really were that crazy on trying your luck. I, for one, would have gushed over feeling good about myself months ago. Criminals lining up just to see if they could last against me, someone who could turn them into a burst of red before they could even finish their sentences. But I couldn¡¯t find it in myself to give a shit. Ryan Kennedy knew about Lower Olympus, maybe just as much as Lucas did, maybe more, from what Johnson and Harvey had told me before I started digging through the bars. He would know a thing or two about Kaiju, and that was leagues more important to me than sitting around chatting to some bleeding thugs.


    At least, I hoped he did. The SDU were currently going through a difficult time right now, and hell, until they found out if any of the little vigilantes they had on their not-payroll had been influenced by Lucas or not, I would be keeping an arm¡¯s length away from them for the time being.


    So I was on my own, and the night wasn¡¯t getting any younger, and more people would just keep dying. Damned city¡¯s bigger than I thought. I had almost reached the top when I heard the bottom stair creak. I turned around, and Jahn was leaning on the wall, panting and sweaty and pale.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± I asked. ¡°¡®Cause I¡¯m not wasting more time down here.¡±


    ¡°I know what you need, hero,¡± he said, smiling. His teeth were stained by cigarettes and chewed down by poor dental hygiene. I could smell his hot, vile breath from here. ¡°The Hitman.¡±


    ¡°I need Ryan Kennedy, a private investigator. You¡¯re telling me nobody knows this guy?¡±


    Another step upward, shaky, but he still made it without collapsing. ¡°Exactly my point, that¡¯s his name around these parts. Ryan ¡®The Hitman¡¯ Kennedy. He¡¯s a bounty hunter, kid.¡±


    I guess if his job is to investigate criminals, of course he¡¯ll seem like that to you.


    I hovered down toward him and said, ¡°So where can I find him?¡± I put my hand up before he could speak. ¡°And if you lie to me, you¡¯re gonna miss just having one broken arm, Jahn.¡±


    ¡°Of course I know where he is,¡± he said, those vile little nub-like teeth still on full display. Jahn lifted his chin and looked me straight in the eyes. ¡°But first, you gotta do something for me¡ª¡±


    ¡°Let me stop you there before I put your skull through the bannister,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯re not doing that. You either tell me where he is, or I hurt you, and then you tell me where he is. ¡®kay?¡±


    He¡¯d tensed up, but his friends slowly picking themselves up off the floor were watching, and with a quick glance over his shoulder, he knew that. Great, he wants to act tough. I put my hand on his shoulder and helped him make the decision of what was more important to him: being alive to tell everyone he faced off with me, or being known as the guy with brain damage and pieces of his skull stuck somewhere deep in his head. He stalled, tried to find his words, and would have stepped away from me if my hand wasn¡¯t so close to his throat. I pressed my fingers into his arm, and he winced¡ªso I did it more, and he swore and begged, and Gods, the looks on all their faces as they shook their heads behind him and waved the guy off. I let him go, and Jahn fell.


    On his knees and cradling his shoulder, Jahn muttered, ¡°He¡¯s got an office above a music store two blocks from here. He ain¡¯t always in, but he¡¯s got an assistant who always keeps note.¡±


    I smiled and crouched to pat his good shoulder. ¡°There we go. You did a good thing today, Jahn, and you might just have saved the city. Next time, don¡¯t be so difficult, for your own sake.¡±


    But when I stood to leave, he whispered, ¡°You shoulda just killed me, you know.¡±


    ¡°Why bother?¡± I asked. ¡°I can¡¯t get that information when you¡¯re dead.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t get it, do you?¡± Jahn looked up at me, the fading light going up the stairwell painting his face in strokes of black. ¡°People are gonna know I ain¡¯t trustworthy. I¡¯ll talk easy.¡±


    ¡°It was either that or get killed. I¡¯m sure whoever wants to hire you would understand.¡±


    ¡°With normal Supes, sure. But you¡­there¡¯s a code, you know, about dealing with you, and if anyone spills their guts to you, then we¡¯re fucked. That¡¯s why none of us ever talk to you, kid.¡±


    Now that made a lot more sense. Sure, most times I was looking for a fight, but with a few thugs, I only ever wanted information out of them and nothing else. And in some cruel twist of irony, they almost worked like the police, these guys, with their code of conduct in giving me the silent treatment and treating me like a hostile. Looking over Jahn¡¯s shoulder and at everyone else in the room, now entirely silent, I figured that it was almost a death warrant for all of them, as well as all the people I¡¯d left alive. Some of their bosses weren¡¯t all too smart, and killing a guy because they thought I had gotten information out of them was something they would be happy to do.


    I almost couldn¡¯t give a damn, considering they were criminals. Some of them murderers, but most of them were thugs for hire, like freelancing, gun-shooting idiots looking for quick cash.


    Because, and here¡¯s some news, a supervillain would rarely ever hire Normals. Why bother with some flesh bag when you could get a flesh bag that could lift a hundred tonnes with one hand?


    Tough break, I guess.


    ¡°I-I could work for you,¡± he said, grabbing my ankle. ¡°I could gather whatever information you need! You just gotta make sure I don¡¯t get capped some day, yeah? Me and the boys, we¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get us wrapped up in this shit, Jahn.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re on your own, stupid bastard, thinking that way.¡±


    ¡°Please,¡± he begged, and it was getting pathetic, what with his blood smattered face and the glassy look in his eyes, but I wasn¡¯t going to budge. A man who had driven me to school for the first time here on this planet, roughed my hair and punched my shoulder and told me I¡¯d be a natural had turned out to be nothing but a lie. Why, in the Gods¡¯ names, would I trust a thug?


    Maybe it was his groveling, the sniveling, the pleading and the looks in the eyes of the men behind him that asked the question of if I would let him live that was making my blood run hot and my heartbeat that little bit faster. It was vile and it was annoying, and tonight hadn¡¯t been a good night to begin with, and he was getting his fucking saliva and mucus all over my boots, all because his bravado had vanished within a wink of an eye when reality had settled in that fragile little head of his. Does he think that¡¯s who I am, some kind of glorified vigilante who was changing her ways? Bullshit. I should have kicked him back down the stairs and left him dead. I should have told him to stop pissing me off. Instead, I yanked my foot away from him and raised it over his sweaty dome.


    Jahn stared up at me, his face covered in the blood dripping off the sole of my boot. The room had fallen silent, and so had the entire world. My heart hammered away in my chest so loudy I couldn¡¯t hear what he was saying, what he was begging for and mumbling about as saliva and drool flew from his mouth and onto the stairs and down his chin. The other criminals watched silently, their faces cast in the same shadow as the man underneath me. Then I smelt the stink of urine mix with the stench of fear, and Gods, what the fuck am I doing? The city was bleeding right now, and here I was getting distracted and wasting time because a part of me didn¡¯t want to find the Kaiju. Yeah, fine, I said it. I could have searched online. Could have asked Johnson and Harvey for directions. Instead, I had searched dozens of bars, dug through cramped apartment after cramped apartment, terrorizing these piss poor pathetic little grunts, all for what? Satisfaction. That''s it, Ry? Feel good yet? Couldn¡¯t kill Lucas, but sure, make yourself feel better by crushing a man¡¯s skull.


    ¡°Gods, you¡¯re fucking pathetic,¡± I murmured. Louder, I said, ¡°Stand up.¡±


    Jahn blinked, still staring and still not moving until I barked at him to face me. He shook as he stood, having to grab hold of the wall to make sure he didn¡¯t collapse again. Gods, he stank of piss and alcohol and blood, and that look on his face was what I hated the most: vulnerability.


    Like some school yard bully terrorizing smaller kids. Like an admiral punishing a child.


    Pick yourself up and square your shoulders and at least pretend you¡¯re sentient enough to be proud of being alive, is what I wanted to say to him. To say so loudly that his ear drums would bleed and it would be damned near the last thing he would ever hear. Half of these freaking humans wouldn¡¯t have made it too far from where I came from¡ªthey would have gone on and on about what¡¯s right and what empathy was and my Gods did I hate that a grown man was busy swallowing his own vomit as he tried to hide the growing wet patch around his crotch¡­but that wasn¡¯t fair on their part either, because most of the people who raised me wouldn¡¯t have fit in here all too well either. The humans would have gotten to them, just like they had with dad, and just like they were with me, however slowly. It was the only thought that stopped me from killing him. It was the only string of words, however loose, that kept me from splashing him down the stairwell right now.


    ¡°At least pretend you¡¯ve got a spine,¡± I said. Jahn straightened and opened his mouth, but I continued. ¡°Now go back down there and clean up the broken glass you littered the floor with, and then you¡¯re gonna mop up the blood and bury your buddies, and then you¡¯ll find something useful to do because so help me Zeus, if I ever catch so much as a whiff of any of you, I¡¯ll make you wish that death was something you¡¯d get to experience one day. Am I clear? And that¡¯s not rhetorical.¡±


    I had expected silence and stubbornness, and that¡¯s what I got¡ªonly that most of them, the ones that could stand, struggled onto their feet and began helping their less fortunate friends off the floor. I didn¡¯t let Jahn go anywhere. I made him watch as they slowly¡ªand very grudgingly¡ªall started figuring out what they should do with the most injured of the bunch and the blood all over the floor. When the arguments started, I let them keep talking before at least one of them looked at me, and however angry they were, it didn¡¯t fucking matter, because death wasn¡¯t something they wanted, and so that anger was swallowed, right along with every other word of revolt they had.


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    So they worked in muttered silence until the anger faded and the quietness intensified. It became so loud that it was impossible not to think that they were mulling over if this was what their lives amounted to. Cleaning blood off the floor of some dingy basement, without a plan for tomorrow unless some gangster flashed a handful of dull bronze coins and worn notes their way.


    I leaned toward Jahn and whispered, ¡°Still feeling like working for me, genius?¡±


    Jahn turned to look at me, his eyes almost glazed over, as if he was in some kind of trance. ¡°I thought, you know, you would kill me. Why would you want me to after nearly killing me?¡±


    I patted his back. He flinched. ¡°Because you¡¯ve got an arm and two legs, and that¡¯s good enough to be useful. If you want to work for me, find something better to do with your life, because you¡¯re not worth the clothes on your back right now, and that¡¯s a shame, because you probably wouldn¡¯t be worth the money I would have to spend on dry cleaning my suit either. If you want to be useful, Jahn¡ªdon¡¯t be fucking pathetic. Now go down there and help them clean, because you¡¯re no better than them or worse than them. You suck just as much. If you don¡¯t want to be lobbed in with the rest of them, then it¡¯s as simple as just being better than your rock-bottom self.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± He swallowed again and shook his head slowly. ¡°I¡¯ve been doin¡¯ this so long that¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t give a shit about your backstory. Go and be useful. I have other things to do.¡±


    Jahn peeled his eyes off his feet and stared at me. ¡°This is almost worse than being killed.¡±


    ¡°No, Jahn, it¡¯s not, because being killed means¡­that¡¯s it. No more do-overs. No more shots. What you did when you were alive is how you¡¯ll be remembered when you¡¯re gone, and what you¡¯re getting is one more chance.¡± I could still feel the anger in my gut, the warmth in my blood and the itch to do something terrible down here, but I swallowed those emotions, and told myself that I had much better things to do tonight. Much better. ¡°Don¡¯t fuck it up, or I¡¯ll kill you.¡±


    It was just plain common sense: nobody ever wants to die, no matter what they said or how they acted, especially in this business and the machismo of every single superhuman you come across, because when death comes knocking, it comes with a purpose and a plan and cold hands.


    Jahn¡ªand everyone else¡ªwas just lucky that mine tended to get a little warm sometimes.


    I turned around before I could see something snap behind those eyes of his. Something deep down in his psyche that spat tears into them when he realized I wasn¡¯t bluffing about keeping him alive just this once. I didn¡¯t care. I did not care about the hope in him. I walked up the stairs and through the tiny Thai restaurant, leaving behind a trail of blood until it all came off on the floor, leaving faint prints and bloody freckles. I passed the old man clutching onto a mop and left the store, but not without doing him a favor by flipping the open sign hanging on the door to closed.


    I couldn¡¯t tell you why exactly I left them alive even if I thought about it. It was something that bugged me, something that gnawed at my psyche the longer I was forced to wait in this dingy little office. A few months ago, that entire basement would be flooded with dead bodies. And yet my hands were the driest they¡¯d been for as long as I could remember in this suit so late at night. I sat there on those rickety plastic seats, my foot bouncing and chewing my thumbnail, staring off into space as I wondered why I had left them there to lick their wounds and gather themselves up again.


    I had briefly thought about going back and finishing the job, but I hadn¡¯t moved. Why bother going back there, the message was clear: you beat them, Rylee. Congratulations. Did you think a couple of humans would actually give you some kind of challenge? A reward? Was that what I was feeling right now, pity for a couple of bad apples? Since when did I ever feel this way about criminals? But, on the other hand, how much time did I need to waste feeling good about myself because I could knock someone¡¯s head clean off their shoulders when people were still dying a few blocks away. Even now, here in this hallway, I could smell it¡ªthat Kaiju and its rot and its stench of innards and tentacles. It was like some kind of nightmare, something that wouldn¡¯t let me forget that it would have killed me if Lucas hadn¡¯t been there to save my life and pull me out.


    Maybe that''s why I didn¡¯t bother with those criminals. They couldn¡¯t kill me even if they banded together and tried their best. It would be ten minutes for me if I took my sweet time with it.


    That thing, that man, however, could kill me.


    Except Lucas had saved me, and being saved by a man who¡¯d spun me around and told me to do whatever it is that he wanted without me even realizing it stuck with me. A dog on a leash.


    I would have to kill that thing on my own eventually, maybe soon.


    And nobody would be there to save me if I failed this time, because if I won, he would be dead at my feet, and his blood would be on my hands¡ªand then it would be the Kaiju, and dead men can¡¯t save me from what might just be certain death. I told myself that Lucas would be gone if I saw him right this second, but if I saw the Kaiju right now, I didn¡¯t exactly know what I would do.


    This is how he gets to you, Ry. He makes you need him. And you don¡¯t need him.


    You do not need anyone saving you.


    I was Zeus¡¯ daughter, and a human who wanted me dead had saved my life before I could die in that hellish basement. That was the thing about this business: you never knew when was when. The final time you might ever see the sun, the stars, or even your own bed. You left home one day and your body would never be found. People would remember you for a while, but hey, you died like the rest of them, so you weren¡¯t so special after all. Burn her flags and spread her ashes and update her hero page as deceased, because the Golden Girl is dead, gone, lost to time and fucking memory, and nobody even knows where her body was buried either. I had come very close to death this summer. So close, in fact, that I¡¯d had to sell my own soul to tell her to come back later with a better offer for my life on this planet. But realizing it now, without Lucas there¡­


    ¡°Olympia?¡± the woman in the corner said. I perked up. ¡°Mr. Kennedy will see you now.¡±


    I stood and said my thanks. Get your head in the game. It was only by the universe¡¯s graces that I had actually found Ryan in his office. He¡¯d made me wait as he finished with some other client, who I was partly sure was a new up-and-coming vigilante who had some kind of revenge thing going on with his dead girlfriend. Usually, I would have argued my case and said I was more important, but hell, the kid was younger than I was, so I let him finish bartering for the information he needed so badly. Even now, there were a couple of other people in the hallway waiting for Ryan so they could also get something out of him. I had to admit, it felt weird listening to people¡¯s stories as I had waited, about how they all wanted different things, different crime bosses, and what they would do to make them pay for whatever it is that they had done to them. Some were teenagers, most were around my age. Very few were older, somewhere in their forties. The one that stuck out to me the most was a woman in a red summer dress wearing leather gloves and red sunglasses.


    When I had asked what her deal was, she had only said, ¡°Murder, my dear.¡±


    All whilst the city itself could be submerged with death in just a few days, maybe even hours if I didn¡¯t find the Kaiju, life was still going on outside the claustrophobic little sphere that always surrounded me. I never took the underground train, and I rarely ever took the bus either. Normal conversations with normal people were things I hadn¡¯t done in almost two years by now, and having to awkwardly hand an angry (and very vengeful) fourteen-year old a box of tissues as she broke down explaining what some villain called Meltdown had done to her mother was like trying to learn how to speak another language again. The weirdest part about this? They didn¡¯t need my help. They only told me their problems because, well, I was the person with the golden eyes.


    All they really wanted was someone to listen to their problems that wasn¡¯t a teacher or a depressed single parent or several friends who didn¡¯t know what they were doing throughout the night. The only solace I could give them was that, if they needed me, all they had to do was ask.


    Saving the city might be one thing, and getting my statue another.


    But bashing heads in for the cathartic sake of it all was dearly missed.


    The guy before me shut the office door behind him, leaving me sitting in a well-worn padded chair on the other side of a rickety desk. Ryan¡¯s office was little more than a glorified room, with barely a window looking into an alleyway, and all illuminated by a single lamp on his table. He was busy filing through a cabinet on the wall, several of them spanning across the entire space. On the opposite wall, a map of the entire city was tagged with red pins, some connected with red string, others with black thread, and more often than not, golden lines interconnected most. To my surprise, Ryan himself was a lot slimmer, more muscular, and with a lot more hair on his head than I had been expecting. It was messy and black, tousled by sleepless nights and greasy from several showerless power naps. With his eyes ringed by the kind of exhaustion that wasn¡¯t going to be dealt with through one good night of sleep, the guy looked like a walking corpse. As he sat, he poured most of an energy drink into a cup that already had coffee in it, and downed it before he spoke.


    But not before a quick light of a cigarette and a shot of something dark brown.


    ¡°Sue tells me you¡¯ve got a Kaiju problem,¡± he said to me, tossing the plastic cup into the overflowing trash can beside his desk. ¡°What kind of Kaiju, for how long, and how bad is it, kid?¡±


    ¡°I think the entire city has a Kaiju problem, and it¡¯s bad enough for a partial lockdown.¡±


    He nodded, his intense brown eyes staring deep into my soul right now. They seemed to flit over my face and body, then fuzz for just a few moments before focusing again. ¡°And what¡¯s your connection to this Kaiju? Have you had problems in the past? Who attacked who first, I wonder?¡±


    ¡°Technically, she attacked me first, but I don¡¯t really consider that the first attack. But then things got a little messy, and then they all attacked me, which nearly killed me a few weeks ago.¡±


    Ryan hummed in thought a little, then said, ¡°You¡¯re Olympia.¡±


    I nodded, wondering if this guy¡¯s rapidly beating heart was going to suddenly stop or pop in the next few seconds. Did he finally figure out who was sitting across from him just now?


    ¡°And I¡¯m guessing if you can¡¯t defeat that Kaiju, nobody else will be able to.¡±


    I shifted in the seat, getting a little uncomfortable. ¡°I guess so, yeah.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s certainly a problem,¡± he muttered. Ryan leaned back on the stool he had probably stolen from somewhere, folding his arms across his chest as he worked the cigarette from one corner of his mouth to the next, spewing smoke from the tiny stub. ¡°Spoken to the Society?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s kinda why I¡¯m here right now. I need to know where they¡¯re currently hiding.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m honored that you came here to ask for that kind of information,¡± he said, and he might have been playing it cool, but the pride was clear in his voice. ¡°Unfortunately, I don¡¯t really know.¡±


    Great. Thank you, Universe, for making me think I¡¯d gotten a lucky break.


    Just as I had stood to leave, however, Ryan said, ¡°But I know someone who might.¡±


    I was getting tired of going on these fetch quests, but here goes. ¡°Name?¡±


    ¡°Are you good at keeping secrets?¡±


    I spread my arms. ¡°Do you even know what my real name is?¡±


    Ryan shrugged. ¡°Supes with good ears out there. Wouldn¡¯t want to do that to you.¡±


    I blinked, taken just a little aback. ¡°Hold on a minute, you know who¡ª¡±


    He slapped down a sticky note that he¡¯d gotten from¡­somewhere, and scribbled a name on it, an address (or was it some kind of symbol?), and slipped it across the desk before he got out the mystery bottle and drank from it again quickly. I wanted to ask my question, wanted to know if some guy working above an ancient music store and out of an office smelling of sweat, socks, and noodles knew who I really was, but he tapped the sticky note again and cleared his throat harshly when the foul brown liquid burnt his throat. Another dose of coffee and he was good to go again.


    I grudgingly glanced down at the piece of paper, and couldn¡¯t believe my fucking luck.


    Caitlyn Rivera. Ava¡¯s older sister, and apparently not as dead as the rumors say, was the woman I had to go and see to save the city. I couldn¡¯t help but laugh to myself as I leaned against his desk. I pinched the bridge of my nose and wondered if the universe secretly had it out for me for something I didn¡¯t even know I had done. As far as I knew, Ava was the last one still running around with her father¡¯s name trailing behind her own. Now Ryan was telling me that this girl, this person that was the oldest sibling, was meant to help me? Me, the superhero, and her, the supposed supervillain, even though she was meant to be six feet deep in some unmarked grave according to the forums you subscribed to and the Lower Olympus gossip practically everyone else listened to.


    I had to admit that I was forced to do my own digging ever since Ava told me that she was the one in charge. Something didn¡¯t sit right with me, because why would Lucian leave his empire in the hands of the child that was never exposed that much to the public eye? Why the youngest?


    I¡¯d thought that it was because Ava was smart enough to take the reins when daddy wasn¡¯t there to tell her no. Without that much of a public face, then she would be perfect for keeping the business working under wraps. Then she had done such a terrible job of it all that I couldn¡¯t help but wonder what had actually happened for Ava, of all of the siblings, to end up in the red seat.


    ¡°You¡¯ve gotta be kidding me,¡± I muttered. ¡°Her? The Devi¡¯s First Daughter?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Ryan said. ¡°She shouldn¡¯t ask for anything in return, but don¡¯t tell her that Ryan sent you, because I don¡¯t want my throat slit. I prefer to have my blood inside my body, thank you.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s supposed to be dead.¡±


    ¡°Can you speak to spirits?¡±


    ¡°Not as far as I know.¡±


    ¡°Then why would I give you a dead woman¡¯s name?¡±


    I pushed a hand through my hair and sighed toward the ceiling. ¡°Why always a Rivera?¡±


    He tilted his head at me. ¡°Seems like you¡¯ve had a hard time with ¡®em too.¡±


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe me if I told you.¡±


    ¡°Try me, Goldie. I¡¯ve lived a million lives, some a lot worse than this.¡±


    ¡°For starters, they¡¯re a pain in the ass when it comes to getting things done.¡±


    He shrugged and drank the rest of the energy drink, dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, then stashed the empty can inside one of his many desk drawers. ¡°Good for lonely nights when the old bed gets cold and the heater doesn¡¯t seem to be working like it used to. Horrible for anything that involves you wanting to get to where you want to be in life without having to do something so heinous until you one day slip the happy end of a gun into your mouth, or a crime so scandalous it should, by all technicalities, land you in San Quentin forever. Which one did you get the lovely chance of meeting? Not Lucian or Caldur, they¡¯re both still missing. Must be the girl.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Ava,¡± I said. ¡°She¡¯s a piece of work, but a stupid one at that. The Triad died under her watch, and you know what? I¡¯m kind of glad it¡¯s a fire that burned itself out before I had to deal with it. Don¡¯t know where she is right now, though, and that¡¯s worse than knowing where, right?¡±


    Ryan nodded a little. ¡°Surprised she won in a fight against you.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°Won? I pulled her apart the first time we met.¡±


    ¡°And she lived long enough to be a pain in the ass for you?¡±


    ¡°Supervillains are like roaches. She just turned out to be a better cockroach.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s who he gave the book to,¡± Ryan mumbled, then made another note that he quickly put inside his shirt pocket. He looked up at me and stuck out his hand. ¡°You¡¯ve been very interesting, but I have eighteen more clients due for the next few hours before I close shop, so please stop by some other time and we can have something more substantial to talk about. Also, please do save the city. If you do, there will be more heroes for me to work with, and that means I can afford to keep myself fed and warm at night, too. But if you don¡¯t¡­Sue will send you the invoice. I hope to be seeing you more, Olympia. Now, if you step through that door, you¡¯ll be taken to where it is that you need to go. Good luck, and I wish you a lovely evening of monster slaying.¡±


    It dawned on me as I opened the door why Ryan had probably been let go from the force. First of all, the doorway had led me directly into a dingy and very old subway station, and secondly, the guy had probably slept with Lucian¡¯s daughter¡ªprobably not even for information, but just for the thrill of having done the deed with a villain. Not to mention he was a Supe, and those were never welcome on the police force (legally, at least). He was probably something like Bianca, a very low-tier superhuman whose abilities were just about able to discern certain situations. He was probably able to see my pupils dilate or the sweat on my brow, hear my heart and see me tense.


    A slightly better human with a faster brain and faster metabolism, but the kind of powers you couldn¡¯t really train or switch off, because they were more a part of you than an extension. You could almost call it a mutation. Summon a ball of fire, sure, but you can¡¯t tell your brain to shrink or your more than sensitive ears and eyes to relax for a second as you catch your breath.


    I wondered if Bianca would eventually be able to do the same, because that was the first time I had ever met someone with that kind of focus with those same abilities that wasn¡¯t, well, entirely crazy or more content with being alone in a dark cell. But if the price she had to pay was never sleeping and keeping herself locked in a dark room with low lighting because her mind couldn¡¯t process things any brighter or louder than what he was used to, then I kind of selfishly didn¡¯t want her becoming anything like him. The further from this world I lived in, the better, because I now had to contend with another one of Lucian¡¯s daughters after the last time had been just so spectacular, and Gods forbid she ever had to meet any of them. The universe had given me a lead and had led me back into the dark. I just had to hope that it wouldn¡¯t do the same for her.


    I knew Ben¡¯s death still haunted her and kept her awake, but I didn¡¯t need her meeting the people I had met to try to piece together what happened to him. Bianca didn¡¯t deserve that pain.


    Lucas, however, did.


    Later, I thought grudgingly. The other monster for now.


    As I walked onto the weak concrete, I didn¡¯t bother questioning where the doorway had vanished to on the grimy bricks. I glanced around the empty platform, the only one standing here under a flickering fluorescent set of lights hanging from the ceiling. Must be one of the older stations. One of the many that had been blocked with so much rubble and debris after dad¡¯s fight that the city could only afford to close it off to the general public. Nobody had been down here in ten years. The graffiti was old and the posters advertised movies that had long since been turned into discount CDs in every corner store. It was like walking through a time capsule, except the shadows of the tunnel were so dark that my eyes couldn¡¯t see through them, and the silence was goading me into thinking that something was watching me. The scars from that fight were still all over the place, from the cracked stone above me, to the foundation of the twisted train tracks.


    Dad¡¯s fight had hurt New Olympus, but the city had just kept growing, and those scars had been buried deep under the asphalt and lost to memory. The smashed boarding schedules and the shoes left scattered across the ground. A dusty little teddy bear and a scarf underneath a chunk of stone. Phones and magazines, ghosts and whispers. I raised my hand and made electricity crackle around my fingers, something I couldn¡¯t do to this effect a few weeks ago. It brightened the dark that little bit more, which was good, because Ryan had drawn a symbol on the sticky note too. A symbol I was meant to find somewhere in this sprawling, interconnected labyrinth of a train tunnel.


    So into the darkness I went, searching for a dead supervillain.

 Issue #42: Circe

    If hell was real, it¡¯ll be the tunnels underneath New Olympus. The heat is what got to me first, the stuffiness and the humidity that made the walls bleed with condensation and myself with sticky sweat. I was forced to wear the top half of my suit around my waist, but that hadn¡¯t helped me at all. The tunnel seemingly had no end, and it almost felt as if the darkness was having its way with me right now. The bricks seemed to groan and shuffle and shower me with dust every few minutes, and then it would be silent, leaving me standing in place, right there on those bent and broken train tracks, waiting to hear something coming my way. Nothing ever did. I was alone here in the dark, and the light I was making felt like an announcement to this endless maize ahead of me. I willed the light away. Better safe than sorry. That fleshy creature had taken a particular taste to my golden light¡ªbetter to not give it any ideas.


    One thing that did strike me, though, was that I needed to start coming up with more ideas myself.


    I had allowed myself to just walk through Ryan¡¯s office door, expecting his whole ¡®it¡¯ll take you where you need to go¡¯ ramblings as some metaphor for what I had to do next. Being stuck in a tunnel that was seemingly shaking and shuddering with movement, trembling as if I was inside the guts of some gods-awful creature so large that it took up the entirety of New Olympus¡¯ underbelly, was putting me on edge. This summer had taught me that I didn¡¯t know this city as well as I had thought. Lower Olympus just scratched the surface. Down here? Hell, it felt like I had traveled through time, because the train tracks would sometimes vanish, leaving gravel underneath my boots, and then they would change to a flowing sewer the next moment and right back to the snapped train tracks once more. I would come across empty platform after empty platform, each and every one of them illuminated by the same fluorescent light fixtures. There was electricity down here, but you wouldn¡¯t guess that from the dead phone lines that hung off the walls in odd places, or the bulbs that would sit like dead eyeballs on the ceiling.


    It was kind of like this place wanted to be alive again, to be used, but the skeletons I passed, the ones laying down on benches, the ones that had been crushed by stones, and even a few that had somehow fused with large chunks of concrete, made it clear that it was also just one big graveyard. Entire sections of the tunnel forced me to crawl through gaps just about small enough to force myself through, and every now and again, I would find pieces of golden cloth glinting underneath stones. Dad¡¯s cape, I thought, picking up another strip. His suit was never made on Earth, and it was designed for a man who deserved the statues on the planets they knew him on. It hadn¡¯t been destroyed by the concrete Titan had put him through, or the oceans he shredded him against¡ªTitan had done that. They had fought so viciously that, even now in this tunnel, slabs of warped stone had probably been melted because of their body heat alone. And yet, pieces of his cape and his gear were littered all over the place.


    Believe it or not, I was never actually supposed to touch this fabric ever. It was like killing a Bald Eagle.


    But nobody was here to stop me, and I figured a piece of my father being down here with me in the dark was a good enough reminder not to be afraid. At least, however calm I could be in this claustrophobic darkness.


    Once more the tunnels groaned, and once more I was left standing, sweating, my heart racing and my body tense as I waited for something to appear from the shadows. Nothing. All that was down here with me were the scars of a long ago finished fight, the soft crackle of my electricity, and the sound of running water at my feet. Sewage.


    Not running water, but sewer water. Great.


    Did Ryan put me down here on purpose? I thought. But that wouldn¡¯t make sense, because so many people wouldn¡¯t trust him to help them if he had the bad habit of stabbing people in the back sometimes. What I needed was to find this symbol, but so far, that was as good as trying to find common sense in Caitlyn¡¯s sister.


    The worst part, though, was that I had seen this symbol before¡ªa pentagram in a circle.


    Cadaver had been littered with them, and so had that flesh-filled dimension Witchling took me to. I didn¡¯t remember seeing them on Ava, but I also, admittedly, was never really focused on her body or her building whenever we got together to have a chat. Witchling had said something about this that night at the docks, but she had never really gotten around to explaining what it meant. It was another world entirely, something I still didn¡¯t know about, but something I should know about by now. It was frustrating being left in the dark about so many things, but when being a superhero meant trying to just keep my two lives separate and hoping mom wouldn¡¯t ask too many questions on why her bedsheets turned red and blue in the washer, things like this were never important.


    Punch the supervillain, save the day, go back home, do my homework and sneak over to Bianca.


    A part of me hated that Lucas might have been right about pulling me away from my normal life as much as possible. Focusing on the city would have probably meant I wouldn¡¯t be stuck down here in these endlessly spiraling tunnels. Then again, he also fucked me into almost being homeless and tricked me my entire life.


    The darkness was doing wonders to my psyche, and I desperately needed something to focus on that¡­


    Noise. It wasn¡¯t a lot of noise, but it was enough noise to make me glance down at the sludge that had very slowly risen to my knees. Walking had been slower, but that meant I could search better for the tiny symbol.


    It also meant that what I thought was sewer water had climbed up my legs.


    And I would have kept believing it was sewer water if it didn¡¯t have a heartbeat.


    Very slowly, I lowered my left hand into the water, almost crouching. I waited for just a moment, making sure to listen, to use my skin to feel if I wasn¡¯t just making things up, then I let electricity pulsate through the water.


    Nothing.


    And then it began seething, simmering, frothing and churning.


    I hovered over the water, nonplussed as the foul black-green molasses congregated into a heap that only kept growing the longer I waited. If it was a threat, it would have attacked. If it wanted me dead, it would have tried to drown me when I was inside it. My goal wasn¡¯t whatever the fuck this thing was, anyway, but it gave me something to focus on that wasn¡¯t just the darkness or the shadows or the filthy brown skeletons floating along the tunnel. It finally stopped shifting and seething, coming together in a mound of garbage and bones and pieces of rock that created a vague person standing on the surface of the water. It looked like a woman, I figured, judging by her curves, but she was dressed in rags and garbage bags, and her hair was the same filthy green that rippled under her bare feet. Gods, she stanks like, well, a sewer, but when she looked up at me, her eyes were glowing a soft yellow. I backed up a little, unsure of what she was going to do, but it was only her head that turned, nothing else.


    She was pale under my light, her skin chalk-white, but lost deep under the filth smeared over her jaw and cheek and across her forehead. She was a mess, but somewhere in there was something kind of beautiful¡­I think.


    It was hard to tell when she stank of human remains.


    The creature¡ªor woman¡ªdidn¡¯t speak or move until a tiny yellow flower emerged from the water and flowed up her feet, her side, her neck and finally settled in her hair. Then she tilted her head at me, curious.


    ¡°Um,¡± I said quietly, because what should I say to her? ¡°I¡¯m looking for directions?¡±


    ¡°You feel¡­funny,¡± she said. Her voice thrummed through the air, making the water ripple. ¡°Empty.¡±


    I laughed dryly. ¡°What¡¯re you, a shrink?¡±


    The woman rose on an undulating pillar of filthy water to meet my eyes. I wanted to puke right there and then, but held my breath and swallowed the bitterness of the orange tea Cleopatra had given me. ¡°You¡¯re not meant to be here, no no, you¡¯re meant to be like them.¡± She pointed to the waters below, still staring directly at me. I glanced downward, and saw the skeleton bobbing on the water. The creature drew closer, because that¡¯s what she was so close to me¡ªher skin was made from silt, her teeth from stones, and yet she looked so human, so very human that it was hard to think she was just some pieces of garbage held together by dirty stillwater. ¡°You¡¯re not them.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said slowly, backing away. ¡°I¡¯m not them because I¡¯m still alive. Now, if you could help¡ª¡±


    ¡°Not from here,¡± she whispered. ¡°Your blood is what flows in the water, through the city¡¯s veins.¡±


    What the hell are you talking about? ¡°Look, I¡¯m trying to find this one symbol. Here, it looks like¡ª¡±


    The thing smiled at me, and a torrent of black, slimy water spilled out from between her teeth and poured down her jaw. But she kept grinning, nice and wide so I could see her crooked teeth. ¡°You¡¯re his daughter.¡±


    I glanced around us, but nobody was coming. I heard nothing but my own heartbeat. ¡°Zeus¡¯, yeah.¡±


    She pointed a finger at herself. ¡°Daisy.¡±


    ¡°Nice,¡± I muttered. ¡°But I need to save the city, so if you could just point me where to go, that¡¯ll be fab.¡±


    She pointed her finger at me instead, her fingertip gingerly touching my necklace. ¡°Sister.¡±


    I blinked. What? ¡°You must be thinking about someone else. I¡¯m an only child.¡±


    Adam doesn¡¯t count¡ªsiblings don¡¯t tend to want to murder each other in front of their mother.


    Daisy shook her head, and said, ¡°Sister, you¡¯re my sister. We share blood, like the others.¡±


    My mood changed almost immediately. It was the same reaction I used to get in school when someone would say they knew what my dad really was, even if, to them, he was just a deadbeat absentee. It was the feeling I got when Lucas had properly sat me down and told me that he knew what I was, and that he¡¯d known since I was born. Secrets like that are meant to be kept. I was the lucky girl, the one who got multiple superpowers when a human was meant to get just one. I wasn¡¯t the exception. And then someone would theorize that I wasn¡¯t human, and that ball would roll for a few weeks, maybe a month, but that would get shot down, because Zeus was special, and so is his daughter, and that¡¯s just how things worked. But sometimes¡­sometimes people get a little too close.


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    The problem with humans is that they think their planet is the only one like this. No. Far, far from it.


    And finding out there are more of us on this planet was like being told aliens are real.


    I just couldn¡¯t fucking believe it.


    ¡°Bullshit,¡± I said coldly. Daisy¡¯s smile dropped as she shrank, almost physically. ¡°You¡¯re lying.¡±


    She quickly shook her head. ¡°No, Daisy doesn¡¯t lie. I swear it.¡±


    This time, I was the one to get closer. ¡°Where and how many?¡±


    ¡°You want me to show you?¡± she said quietly. ¡°I¡¯m not allowed to do that, sister.¡±


    I was forced to unball my fists before my fingernails cut too deep into my hands. ¡°I¡¯m going to ask you this again, and I¡¯m going to ask you very, very slowly, Daisy: how many are there, and where the fuck are they now?¡±


    She said nothing, and I figured that hitting her wouldn¡¯t do anything to change her mind on talking.


    So I breathed in, then out, and muttered, ¡°Please?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going to hurt them, hurt my family.¡±


    ¡°Why would I ever do that? I¡¯m a superhero. I just want to see them and talk to them and just ask them a few questions. That¡¯s all,¡± I said, trying very hard to sound as friendly as I could be.


    ¡°That¡¯s not why you came here, was it?¡± she asked. Daisy was beginning to look defensive, with her body slightly shielded from me, and the waters around us begging to ripple violently. If she managed to disappear back into the waters, I doubted I would ever be able to find her again, and who knew when I would ever come across something or someone else who wasn¡¯t dead and gone down here? Whatever Daisy knew, I also needed to know, and that could only happen if I didn¡¯t look like I wanted to attack her and throttle her non-existent throat for the answers I wanted.


    I put up my hands. ¡°You¡¯re right, it wasn¡¯t. I came here because I need to find a woman who knows where to find another group of people I need to find. If I can do that, then I can save a lot of people, including your family¡­our family¡±¡ªGods, Rylee, really?¡ª¡±so I need your help doing this, because I¡¯m lost, and this place just keeps going on for eternity. I don¡¯t know how long I¡¯ve got, but I know it needs to be dealt with soon before more people get killed on the surface.¡±


    Daisy stared at me, then crept a little closer. ¡°You¡¯re a hero? Like the ones on the posters?¡±


    ¡°Something like that, yeah.¡±


    She turned around, but didn¡¯t disappear. It was almost as if she was having a conversation with herself, and that¡¯s exactly what it was, because I was forced to wait several minutes as she muttered under her breath for a while. I didn¡¯t want to believe that more of us were somewhere down here, because my people didn¡¯t really do subtle existences. If they were here, I would have found out a long time ago, and the humans would have also found out that nuclear weapons to them were like chimps finding out that throwing stones at each other hurt. Well, for the others. I didn¡¯t know what it would do to me, and I hoped I never had to find out. At the end of the day, I was still half human, and that wouldn¡¯t change. But that also meant I was questioning what Daisy meant when she said we were sisters, because if she was half of me, then I was closer biologically to a pile of sentient sewer water than I was my own people, which¡­ ha-ha, universe. Very funny.


    It didn¡¯t stop me from wanting to find out what her ¡®family¡¯ was to her. From what I had seen as she drew close, her eyes had been the only thing that looked somewhat solid. Her pupils, too, had shone. Had pulsed with life that wasn¡¯t damp or colorless like the rest of her entire body.


    Whatever the case, I was beginning to question just how much dad¡¯s fight with Titan had cost the planet. Not just for the lives that were taken, or the billions of acres that were destroyed as they scarred the Earth. But the actual soil they had fought on and what that meant for people like Daisy, because there had been joy in her eyes and smeared all over her face when she called me that word¡ªwhen she had touched my chest and probably felt my heartbeat. I had to admit that it sometimes felt like wherever I went and whatever I did, it was still dad that I was chasing, even if he was gone. What he meant to Daisy was pure joy, and you could see it as she turned around, you could see it in the way she smiled widely at me, because she had come to some kind of conclusion and figured that his daughter wouldn¡¯t ever do anything to harm the people she deeply cared about.


    The people who didn¡¯t know me tended to know Zeus. The people who did know me tended to shake their heads ever so slightly, because no, I wasn¡¯t him, even if we shared blood, powers, his might and his speed and his strength. It felt like a betrayal looking into her eyes, at her face and that smile filled with gooey black saliva. She trusts you, even if you could be lying to her.


    ¡°Alright,¡± she said, almost breathing the word out like a sigh. ¡°I will take you to them.¡±


    And just like that, she trusts you because of who she thinks I am.


    Because she doesn¡¯t know me like the rest of the world does.


    I didn¡¯t know how to feel about it, and Daisy didn¡¯t give me the chance to keep thinking about myself. The water at her feet surged upward, filling the tunnel in seconds and leaving me nowhere to go and with barely a gasp of air to hold in my ever tightening lungs. I turned slowly in the thickness of the water, lost if not for the two small soft lights coming from all around me. I figured those golden blurs were her eyes, or something of the sort, and as they floated around me, passed over me and nearly through me, I began wondering what she was doing. And then I felt the water around me tighten, clench, and move. I flipped over in the water, spinning around with my feet over my head in endless circles that nearly made me vomit. I tried to burst into the open, to rip my way out of this raging current that was silent and numb and disgustingly warm against my skin.


    But I couldn¡¯t find a way up and out, and whenever I came close, it would be a wall or a chunk of stone or a slab of metal that would slam me back inside the tide of garbage. I swallowed some, threw up most. Tried to breathe and inhaled fumes and water and choked on the stench and taste that was curdling in my throat and frothing in my stomach. I was thrown against a wall, ragdolling against the bricks, with the blow only being softened by the sludge-like water that wrapped around me like a protective blanket. I didn¡¯t know when it would end. I prayed (me!) to whatever gods would listen, even the human one, to stop the surge of trash and rot and algae and what I hoped was just something thick and warm like grease that would rush for my mouth every other second. My heart hammered away against my chest. I wanted to yell for her to stop, but she was giggling. Giggling. The water was shaking, and she was saying something too, but that didn¡¯t matter to me because I was struggling to so much as form a thought that wasn¡¯t breathe in air!


    Eventually, after I gave up trying to fight the churning tides, as I was left to float and shove and bang against every wall and piece of debris flowing through Daisy, it all suddenly stopped.


    How quickly it became peaceful was like a breath of fresh air, except the gasp I took as soon as she gently nudged me onto something hard underneath me smelt of anything but pleasant air. I hacked and I coughed, wheezing and puking up water and bits of stone that had forced themselves into my throat. I reeked like a wet dog that had been thrown into a mound of trash out in the sun. The humidity was worse, enough to make me sweat even more as I sat on my knees and shut my eyes and angled my head upward so that my hair (and all the fun things now stuck to it) would get into my mouth. I spat, then wiped my mouth on my arm, but that didn¡¯t help at all, so I let the saliva sit on the corner of my lips as I breathed in the stink of sour air and body odor, soil and fish and all of it was caught by a sickly sweet scent underneath everything, like it was hiding.


    Not as sweet as ambrosia smelt, but something like flowers. Very pollinated flowers.


    I wanted to be sick because of the sweetness. It clashed too violently with the rankness of the sewer for me to appreciate it. Then my stomach tensed, and I was back to puking my guts out.


    Sometimes I wished I could go back to turning off my powers, because, as I shook from sickness, from having finally emptied myself, the smells were far, far too aggressive to my nose.


    ¡°Sister,¡± Daisy said excitedly. I opened my eyes, not too happy to see that she was grinning at me. A tiny flower was blooming on the wall above her, glowing a soft gold light in the dark. ¡°We are here. The others are already on their way. Can you feel them approaching? Their excitement?¡±


    ¡°The only thing I feel is sick, Daisy. I feel like I¡¯m gonna puke my organs.¡±


    Daisy frowned, rising a little from the waters and closer to the rubble-strewn platform she had placed me on. I was knelt beside a wall littered with veins, and on those vines were dozens of golden flowers. She had brought me to a place that looked a lot larger than all the other platforms I had passed on my way through the tunnels. Flowers blossomed on the walls and the ceilings, all glowing the same golden color, turning the shadows into lanky creatures stretched out on the river that split two very, very expansive platforms, and the rickety bridge that connected the two. The two sides were big enough for there to be tents and make-shift little beds on each side, and with them came tiny¡­things, creatures with heads that were unfurled, and bodies made from vines.


    ¡°Please do not vomit your organs,¡± she said, distracting me from the creatures. ¡°Your insides seem vital to you, and I do not think any of us is capable of placing them back inside you.¡±


    I slowly stood, looking at the things still on the opposite side of the platform I was on. This side was a lot smaller, a lot slimmer, with a lot more rubble covering it, but a lot more hatches on the wall amongst the roots and the bricks and the glowing plants. The other side was teeming with life, with those creatures with flowery open heads, and more of them that milled around a lot further away. The platform seemed to slope downward into some kind of abyss, vanishing from sight. If I flew higher, I might have gotten the chance to see more of the entire thing, because the ceiling was impossible high, like I really was inside of a cavern. I couldn¡¯t even see the top from here. There were just vines and their flowers pouring their light down from above, sometimes shedding their petals and making it drizzle tiny golden leaves. They would collect along the water, on the floor, and they would simply continue to blossom, growing into tinier plants of their own, too.


    ¡°Daisy,¡± I whispered, glancing at her. She was sitting cross-legged, almost right next to me, albeit on the water. ¡°Where exactly did you take me when you said your family was coming?¡±


    ¡°Home,¡± she said, still smiling.


    ¡°And what about the help that I needed? To, you know, save your family?¡± I couldn¡¯t help but keep staring at those things, those creatures with the flower heads! They were curious little creatures that would run and hide and vanish into the darkness, closing themselves up in a heartbeat before slowly coming back out to lean over the river and stare at me. I couldn¡¯t tell if they spoke, or if they even could speak, but they acted like children, with how they shoved and pushed and nearly tilted into the river if it wasn¡¯t for Daisy stretching out her hand and making the water gently push them back onto the platform. She wouldn¡¯t complain, and most times, she would only douse them in enough water to make them shudder and excitedly run off hurried tiny groups.


    ¡°Circe will know how to help you,¡± Daisy said to me.


    ¡°Who the hell is Circe?¡±


    Daisy didn¡¯t answer me, because there were more things on their way. I could hear feet slapping against the pavement, roots stretching and bodies shuffling from somewhere in the dark. I raised my hand and made it bright¡ªbright enough for me to see, for the tiny flowers to seem to glow even brighter around me. And there, coming out of the darkness, was a woman dressed in a filthy, torn, tattered three-piece suit, tie and everything, excluding her shoes. She had deep black dreadlocks snaking over her shoulders and down her back, a few over her chest and just enough of them to perfectly clasp her angular face. She walked amongst the tiny flower creatures, and they followed, running around her, to catch up to her, and not once did she stop staring at me. Not once did she stop her gaze as she halted on the wooden bridge. The bridge was arched, so it meant I had to look up at her, because of course I would be¡ªjudging by her face, her sister would have done the same to me, just to make sure the message was clear: I came to her, not the other way around.


    I needed her help, and she would probably rather have my body used as fertilizer.


    ¡°Circe!¡± Daisy exclaimed. ¡°I brought you a superhero, and she¡¯s going to save us!¡±


    The woman remained silent. The tunnel seemed to shift again under her watch.


    And suddenly, I didn¡¯t know how I felt having to save Ava¡¯s big sister.

 Issue #43: The Banished Pt.1

    Circe didn¡¯t look as keen on having me here as Daisy did. She stared at me like I was a piece of trash that had gotten stuck to the bottom of her shoe and just wouldn¡¯t come off. Ava had almost been able to look at me that way, but the difference was that Ava had been split in two the first time we met. I hadn¡¯t cared about her or what she could do, because the youngest Rivera wasn¡¯t advertised as a threat. Caitlyn, however, wasn¡¯t like her younger sister.


    I had never come across her before. My problems had been with her father. One thing I did know about her was that Ben had fought her in the past, and I figured that¡¯s why she had a nasty scar going from her throat to her ear, as if he had tried to gut her alive. I said that, because she had never let a vigilante leave as soon as they crossed her. They came and they vanished, and that¡¯s the word that everyone whispered on the streets of Lower Olympus. Was I afraid of her? I didn¡¯t know. Wary, I figured, was a better word. Her eyes were hard and so was her jaw. Her face was a mask that wouldn¡¯t be broken from the steely gaze she¡¯d settled on me alone. That was the face of a woman who had sat down on a hard plastic stool and watched her father show her how to peel the skin of a man¡¯s body strip by strip before she had even finished with middle school. Caitlyn Rivera didn¡¯t glare at me. She looked down at me, her nose turned up at me slightly, as if just being in her vicinity alone was an insult to everything she believed in.


    At least, that¡¯s what it felt like as the silence drew on for several very long minutes.


    But she was the person I needed. The person that would help me save the city, and kill a Kaiju that was far stronger than any I had faced so far. So now came the hard part: convincing a supervillain to help me do just that.


    I took a step forward. ¡°You¡¯re¡ª¡±


    ¡°Quiet.¡± Caitlyn turned her eyes away from me to stare at Daisy instead, and I would have felt offended if I didn¡¯t see how much Daisy shrank in on herself too. ¡°What have I told you so many times in the past about strays?¡±


    I spoke before Daisy could stutter her way through an explanation. ¡°I¡¯m not a stray, I¡¯m Olympia.¡±


    ¡°And a glorified stray at that,¡± the woman said, just about loud enough for me alone to hear, still not speaking to me, but to the creature made of swirling green-brown water behind me. ¡°What made you think, Daisy, that bringing someone like her all the way here was an idea worth carrying out? If I needed help with our current set of problems, I would have tasked you in luring Clementine here by any means necessary, force or otherwise, or anyone far more useful than a girl who¡¯s biggest achievement was not being spilled down her mother¡¯s torso.¡±


    Gods above, they¡¯re all the same brand of asshole.


    That just made trying to work with her that much harder. I was forced to swallow the biting retort that was just waiting to be spat out from my mouth. Dealing with Riveras, I had learnt, meant knowing when to bite your tongue, because getting into petty cat fights with them meant absolutely nothing at the end of the day if they could just pull themselves back together and continue their smack talk without so much as a care in the world. Besides, there was more to life than arguing with people and fighting them on every personal ground possible. I was, to put it simply, not going to bite into her bullshit. It was about time I started acting like my father¡¯s daughter in more ways than just having his powers. So I folded my arms and waited for Daisy to come up with something to say, because if it was sly bitterness she wanted to give me, to see if I would react, then I was forced to not give a shit.


    Not that I wanted to, though¡ªI couldn¡¯t stop tapping my finger against my bicep, trying to make sure I wouldn¡¯t have that same finger burrowing deep inside Cailtyn¡¯s heart in the next few seconds. Chill out, Ry. Relax. I only briefly wondered if she had the same powers as her sister, and wouldn¡¯t that be fun, testing that out right now?


    ¡°Circe,¡± Daisy said, threading her fingers. ¡°She shares the same blood as the family. A sister to me, too.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, Daisy, she¡¯s very much not like the others,¡± Caitlyn mutters. ¡°She¡¯s a pest to our lives.¡±


    ¡°A¡­pest?¡± The watery woman glanced at me, then whispered, ¡°But she is a hero, like her father.¡±


    Cailtyn had seemingly heard enough of what Daisy had to say and turned around. ¡°Dispose of her.¡±


    I looked at Daisy, who looked at me, too. She didn¡¯t have the eyes of someone who wanted to kill me, but the eyes of someone who wanted help. I had seen it in so many eyes before. A part of me wanted to respond to it, but another part of me was thankful that not everyone wanted to see me dead a few moments after meeting me in person. By the time Caitlyn had reached the end of the bridge, I was in front of her, hovering slightly off the ground, not because I was shorter than her, but because I just didn¡¯t like having to look up at someone who would rather spit on me than actually talk to me. My arms remained folded, and if she was surprised, it didn¡¯t show on her face. She stopped just a few inches away from me, and the scent of soil and greenery, like a bouquet of wildflowers had somehow formed into a person, shoved away any of the remaining smells Daisy had stuck on me. I might smell like ozone, like a rainstorm about to happen, but the woman standing in front of me reeked of nature in all its glory.


    Whatever glory that was, being attached to a supervillain.


    ¡°I think we got off on the wrong foot,¡± I said flatly. ¡°I came because I heard you know where Kaiju live.¡±


    Her cat-like eyes narrowed, hazel irises almost glowing in the dark. ¡°And however did you learn that?¡±


    ¡°How I did doesn¡¯t matter,¡± I said. ¡°But what I need is your help, and then I¡¯ll get out of your hair.¡±


    Cailtyn looked at me the same way you would a child that just made a stupid demand. And she would have walked right past me if I hadn¡¯t put my hand on her shoulder, stopping her dead. She glanced at me, not turning her head, but flicking her eyes my way. ¡°I suggest you let go of me, Olympia. I¡¯m not very friendly.¡±


    I wanted to shove her back down the bridge, or onto her knees so she could find out that neither was I, but I needed her more than she needed me, so pissing her off wasn¡¯t the way to go about this. She looked way harder to crack than Ava ever did, and I could probably hurt her as much as I wanted and still get nothing out of her mouth except swear words and insults so colorful they would make her father blush. But if there was one thing that I did know, it was that Daisy wanted help, and Caitlyn didn¡¯t want it. They had a problem, and I¡¯m a great problem solver, if I do say so myself. Sure, Rylee, help the supervillain. I¡¯m sure we haven¡¯t done this one before either. But I was in a tough spot right now, and information, seemingly, only came from the people who wanted me dead most.


    But even from where I was now, I could smell the lie sitting on her lips. You get pretty good at finding out what dying humans smell like when you¡¯re around them so often. The entire cavernous area reeked of saccharine rot and the very fetid decay of flesh. At first I had thought it was Daisy, and you couldn¡¯t blame me for thinking otherwise, but that hadn¡¯t been the case. Caitlyn hadn¡¯t been ripped apart recently, so she wasn¡¯t the one dying.


    ¡°I smell it, you know,¡± I said to her, dropping my voice so only she could hear me. ¡°Through the plants and the flowers and the stench of sewage, there¡¯s someone very, very sick down there in that darkness. Deathly sick.¡±


    Caitlyn said nothing, only stared at me.


    ¡°And I¡¯m guessing that you¡¯re masking it, just in case something that likes that smell catches wind of it.¡±


    ¡°Do enlighten me, Daughter of Zeus, about what kind of creature likes the scent of death.¡±


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re down here, for one,¡± I said, and I saw a flicker of something in her eyes. I had been expecting rage, maybe hate, but that had been a glint of amusement, like I was still a novelty to her. ¡°But I also know a few things, maybe a few Kaiju, that like the smell of human remains.¡± Just like the one that had nearly killed me, and just like the dozens of others that had been filmed deep in the emergency wing of hospitals as they dragged body after body into their fold of organs and appendages. I didn¡¯t want to think she was harboring that thing down here, but I also had my fears, my worries, that the Devil¡¯s Daughter could have made friends with one of the only things on this planet that could rip me apart limb-from-limb. ¡°So don¡¯t lie to me, Caitlyn. You need help, and I can give you the help you need, maybe save whoever you¡¯re trying to care for, but you also need to help me out in return.¡±


    She waited for a moment before answering. ¡°When I was a child, heroes used to be noble. Selfless. Willing to make sure people got aid even if they didn¡¯t stand to benefit. The apple seemingly has fallen far from the tree.¡±


    I feigned a flat smile, trying not to spit back at her. ¡°Things changed, because when I was a kid, your dad never went into hiding, not even with Zeus in the sky above his Guild. And now here you are, hiding in the dark.¡±


    ¡°I stand corrected,¡± she said quietly. ¡°You¡¯re just as arrogant as the Lord of the Sky once was.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re only good for your information, just like your father was, too.¡±


    The tunnels seemed to groan once more as she angled her head toward me. The stones above us shifted, showering me in fine dust. It¡¯s like this entire place is alive. Some of the plants broke free from the stones they were growing through, splitting them apart and sending rubble skittering into the foul river underneath the bridge. I had to wait to see what she could do. Had to figure if she was going to finally play ball, or keep making this situation worse for the people who reeked of illness and decay somewhere in the shadows behind me, and the uncountable number of people on the surface who were dying the longer this went on down here. I didn¡¯t want to fight Caitlyn, that wasn¡¯t my priority. Find the Society, get whatever information I could about the virus infecting dozens of people throughout the city, and deal with the problem. Supervillains like Caitlyn would come a lot later on.


    ¡°It¡¯s a shame that we aren¡¯t our fathers then,¡± she said, ¡°because I have no need to shake your hand.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got a problem that needs to be fixed. I¡¯m the one that can help you with that.¡±


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡°I highly doubt it.¡±


    ¡°Try me.¡±


    Cailtyn shook her head slowly. ¡°You¡¯re so self-important that it¡¯s a miracle you allow yourself to get this filthy for whatever you need. Your help is not wanted here, and your time would be better spent elsewhere, child.¡±


    I¡¯ll ignore that last part.


    I sighed through my nose, then said, ¡°I¡¯m guessing putting you through a wall won¡¯t change your mind.¡±


    Cailtyn hardly looked at me as she walked past, shouldering me aside. ¡°If it¡¯s information you want, then I can give you this: be careful finding your way out. This place was created so that people like you never escape.¡± The sound of her bare feet slapping against the platform echoed in my ears. She was only getting further away, and she was taking one of the only shots I had at saving the city with her. I wouldn¡¯t know how to start searching for the Kaiju. Wouldn¡¯t even know where to begin in a city filled with millions. The Society was a secret because it knew if humans found out where they were hiding, then it would very easily be a bloodbath, and that¡¯s why it was so hard trying to find so much as a whisper about them. In truth, I was just hoping they knew something about what was going on, because there were several other people who probably knew an answer but weren¡¯t my biggest fans.


    Cassie had said that Kaiju turned into that thing when Ambrosia was introduced into the mix. The only problem with that was I didn¡¯t trust her word, because what would that mean for everyone who was already turning into those creatures? Hundreds of people were taking Ambrosia? Hundreds of people were secretly Kaiju and were somehow keeping their identities hidden? And what about Alice? She hadn¡¯t looked like a Kaiju to me until she had vomited her guts out onto the counter. It had to be something else, something more, and Caitlyn would know.


    My biggest problem with that was that Cailtyn probably wouldn¡¯t care. Just isn¡¯t her problem


    ¡°At least tell me this,¡± I said over my shoulder. I heard her stop walking. ¡°Why did you run away?¡±


    Caitlyn laughed dryly under her breath. ¡°You think I¡¯m running away? From what?¡±


    ¡°From who,¡± I said, turning around. I had wondered where she had come from, and now that I could vaguely make out her slender form, she was standing in the opening of a wall thick with thorny vines. They opened wide as if to hug her, only slightly revealing the stairwell that led into the dark. ¡°You know, when I was flying around lost in this maze of a sewer tunnel, I kept asking myself: what the hell would make Caitlyn Rivera run away from New Olympus? I mean, let¡¯s be honest here. Your brother couldn¡¯t win a spelling bee even if the only question was his first name, and leaving your little sister behind to take over the family business was just plain stupid to me. I mean, you were meant to be the queen of Lower Olympus. Gods knew you were probably gonna run for may¡ª¡±


    Cailtyn turned to face me, her eyes narrowing as she asked, ¡°Ava took charge of the Triad?¡±


    I shrugged one shoulder, trying to act calm, but I had finally  broken the nonchalant look she had plastered on her face. ¡°Yeah, but not anymore. You should have seen what she did to the Guild, and the gang war she lost? Fuckin¡¯ priceless. She kept thinking she was this really big shot mob boss, totally smarter than everyone around her, but she got her face dragged through the freaking street, tell you what, but now the Triad doesn¡¯t even exist.¡± And just to pour salt in the wounds. ¡°Last I checked, some other gang had cozied up inside the Guild. Found some guy tugging it as he sat on your old man¡¯s chair. Don¡¯t worry, I folded him nice and neat for you. Think I left him in your old closet, but I couldn¡¯t really tell. Every single room is like a moshpit of humans and their rank fluids.¡±


    Goading Caitlyn was a very, very dangerous game. Ava was the lesser known kid, the child who had a mouth full of silver before she even had the teeth to chew it. Caitlyn grew up being hunted down by people like Lucas and superhumans like my father knowing where she went to private school, where she slept, and the entirety of the Olympians knowing very well where she lived and what her family did for a living, too. She was a spitting image of her father as she stood there in the darkness, with only her eyes reflecting enough light to make her out. Gods only knew what those eyes had seen, the friends she¡¯d seen get killed by rival gangs. The times she had been swept up by heroes she had been forced to leave as a name on a tombstone, but gods, I needed her to stop thinking, to stop mulling over what I had just said. Time was running out, slipping through my fingers. The longer I waited, the more people died, but if I was being honest, letting that ungodly creature get stronger day-by-day meant one thing for me, and that was death. Gods only knew how much worse that damned creature had become by now.


    ¡°So,¡± I said quietly. ¡°What the hell made Cailtyn Rivera a runaway? Who made the Devil¡¯s Daughter run?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re bluffing,¡± she hissed at me. ¡°My father wouldn¡¯t have let Ava run the Triad. Now leave.¡±


    ¡°Well, with Lucifer being dead and all, I doubt he¡¯s got much of a say being in a casket.¡±


    And now I had her full attention.


    She took two steps toward me, then stopped. ¡°Blasphemy,¡± she spat.


    I waved my hand and turned around, heading over the bridge. ¡°See you around, I guess.¡±


    The vines hanging above me erupted from the ceiling, threading together and threading into one thick vine that smashed the bridge apart. I remained hovering in front of the wall of thorns and sickly-sweet flowers as wooden panels flowed down the river, picked up by a very timid Daisy. My back was still turned to her so she got the clue that toying with a few plants didn¡¯t really excite me as much as she would probably have liked to think. But there was another reason I kept my back to her. Another reason I kept one of my hands folded shut and half my body turned to the shadows. A vine had cut through the air behind me like a dagger to join the wall in front of me, and one of the thorns had nicked the back of my hand. Not a big cut, not compared to what I¡¯d gone through this summer, but¡­. I¡¯m bleeding. I glanced at the thorn inches away from me, the one that carried just a droplet of my blood on its tip. My hand stung as it healed, and suddenly, dealing with Cailtyn wasn¡¯t a cat-and-mouse anymore.


    I didn¡¯t want to believe that someone else could also kill me. Someone else I didn¡¯t even know about.


    But as my hand healed, so did the tiny lightning bolt on my chest begin to feel like it was burning. Just briefly, for a few seconds, we remained in silence, and through that quietness, the mark on my chest ached like hell.


    The thorns also reeked of poison. The pungent kind that would rot someone inside and out. My eyes reflected the sheen of it dripping down the vines and running off the tiny barbs, like a thin sheet of foul water.


    ¡°Tell me how you know that about my father,¡± Caitlyn demanded.


    ¡°I¡¯m a superhero,¡± I said slowly. ¡°I kinda tend to know when villains die around these parts.¡±


    The next question came as a whisper, one that bordered on a serpentine hiss. ¡°You killed him?¡±


    I could very easily say yes to that and make her more than angry. Make her want to kill me, but I could see it in her eyes and the way she stood¡ªCailtyn wasn¡¯t going to kill me or fight me right now, because it would be a waste of her time. She wanted to know more about her father, and a woman who wasn¡¯t running away from the surface would have been able to go up there and check. She should have known about her father already, known that Ava was the one in charge of the family nine to five, but she didn¡¯t know anything at all. I would have smiled if it wasn¡¯t for the dull ache of pain pulsing on the back of my hand. She was still very much a threat to me, even if she didn¡¯t know it. I figured, like the genius I was, that I should keep it that way for the sake of my own survival.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to say I did,¡± I muttered, ¡°but what kind of hero takes the glory for someone¡¯s work, y¡¯know?¡±


    The tunnel shifted, and so did the ropy plants surrounding us. Her hands remained tight by her sides as Caitlyn raised her chin and said, ¡°I need proof that what you¡¯re saying is true, because if you¡¯re lying to me, Olympia, then I¡¯ll make it very clear why my mother was forced to step down.¡± Her voice remained flat, but echoed loud enough for the entire tunnel to shudder with her voice. ¡°Now speak, or I¡¯ll teach you how we make every Supe spill their guts. It¡¯s not very pleasant, but it is very uncomfortable. I suggest you choose to be smart about this.¡±


    I scoffed and folded my arms as I turned to face her, not because I wanted to cover the half of me not wearing my costume, but because I wanted her to know that I didn¡¯t really give a fuck about her threats. She was smarter than her sister, and I was banking on that fact very, very hard. ¡°Go on. Just so you know, I¡¯ve got hay fever, so ease up on the pollen, and maybe it¡¯ll be a fair enough fight for you to beg me to stop pulling you apart, Cat.¡±


    Oh, she hated that name, and probably hated my words even more, but here came the part when she realized what I was after, and knew she wouldn¡¯t get it if we fought. Ava, by now, would have kept threatening me, or choosing to call me names to degrade me to the point that I was too angry to focus on whatever it is that she wanted to get done. Caitlyn, on the other hand, relaxed her shoulders and sighed through her nose. I watched her force her own hands open as she slid them into her coat. The wall of vines behind me curled in on themselves and vanished into the darkness of the ceiling. The tunnel, though, didn¡¯t stop groaning and rumbling and shaking, as if it had digested something foul that it couldn¡¯t get rid of. We stared at one another, not particularly looking like bastions of warmth and acceptance in this dingy little tunnel, but one thing was clear: Caitlyn wasn¡¯t willing to risk a fight with me, and I¡¯ll be honest here, neither was I. She probably didn¡¯t know she could hurt me, but hey, like Lucas said, secrets are what make this business what it is, and as for the proof she wanted of her father¡¯s apparent murder¡­


    Well, I couldn''t give it to her, but there just so happened to be a small pain in my side called the Triumvirate that needed to be dealt with, and who else would have evidence of the blood of a man like Lucifer than the one gang that had wiped his off the map? She would  have to go find it for herself, because I figured she would be more willing to hunt down a group of villains who had supposedly killed her father and thus helping me, than me showing her a bloody t-shirt and some pictures and hoping for the best. Besides, releasing a force of nature on them would be awesome.


    Because it means I can watch the supervillains kill each other and come in after for clean up duty. Look at me, civilians, stopping a turf war. You''re welcome. Get Witchling in on this, and it could be a very, very good day for me by getting these S-Grades into a bucket of gore or boring old jail.


    And if she didn¡¯t believe me about the Triumvirate wiping up the Triad, then she could always ask Ava.


    Or the heaps of dead bodies the Triumvirate left in the Guild of men she had probably grown up with.


    ¡°Your arrogance is frustrating,¡± she muttered. ¡°But I¡¯ll commend you for being smarter than I thought.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about, Cat. I¡¯m just a superhero trying to get things done.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re extorting information from me for the price of knowing my father¡¯s wellbeing.¡±


    ¡°Technically, no, I¡¯m not. Extorting is what your sister did to me.¡±


    ¡°Ava?¡± Caitlyn said, curious. ¡°She had both the gaul and the strategy to extort the Daughter of Zeus?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Not my proudest moment, but she scurried off somewhere before I could get her.¡±


    Caitlyn said, ¡°It seems like we are no longer anything we used to be. You included, girl.¡± She turned and walked toward the wall of thorns and glowing plants, and I watched as it opened in front of her, like barbed fingers grasping for the shadow lingering in her wake. ¡°If it¡¯s information you want, then it¡¯ll come at a price. We¡¯ll talk, but not here. This place still lingers with the eyes and ears of a man who would very quickly kill us in seconds.¡±


    I flew toward the thorn-threaded wall, toward the musk of poison, and the stench of death and strips of flesh still rotting somewhere in the barb mess that was suffocating me. ¡°Mind telling me who made this place?¡±


    ¡°Saying his name will only alert him of my presence,¡± she said. ¡°Understand that he made this for you.¡±


    I paused mid-flight, making her stop before she took the first stare down into the dark. ¡°Me?¡±


    ¡°Not quite,¡± Caitlyn said, and for the first time, her smile glinted in the dark. ¡°But for your people.¡±


    ¡°Us specifically,¡± a voice said from far, far below us, lost somewhere in the blinding darkness. And with those words came the faint light of glowing eyes, like two tiny golden embers burning away the darkness engulfing us. And not just one pair of them, but dozens more of them. "Glory''s Blessings, Ry''ee, and by the gods, you''ve grown so much, and you finally smell just like uncle."

 Issue #44: The Banished Pt.2: Bad Blood

    Growing up, I always knew I was different, and that didn¡¯t bother me. I knew who my father was, and knew what he meant to not only the humans, but to my people, too. But from that point onward, it gets pretty complicated. I never knew everything, simply because if I did know too much, someone could very easily make the fragile little girl spill her guts out if you put a gun to her head. Sure, the Olympians probably would have made very easy work of anyone who tried to kidnap me, but I wasn¡¯t talking about normal supervillains. I¡¯m talking about my uncle. Titan, by all intents and purposes, was someone that I had no right to ever talk to, let alone look into his eyes or touch him. I was young when I left, but I had been old enough to know that some things stick with you, no matter where you run to.


    And the reason knowing I was different than everyone else got complicated was because, well, Titan killed so many people that day that it did something drastic to my psyche. Yeah, dad had died, and the entire world had watched it happen right there alongside his hidden daughter, but one singular thought had kept circling my mind days after the fight, for weeks on end after schools had finally opened again months later: I can do that too. They had flown so quickly that no camera on the planet could trace them. They used satellites to track their locations, but when they skimmed through the atmosphere, their body heat alone had destroyed countless of them, too. The damage hadn¡¯t just been surface level, a couple of buildings and some tarmac¡ªno. They fucked the atmosphere and the winds, the cycle of different heatwaves, and even managed to warp entire coastlines. When S-Grades fight, they say humanity can feel it on the other side of the planet if it gets ugly. But when dad and Titan had fought?


    It was a miracle that the Earth was still able to pull itself back together. By all accounts, dad should have lost. He was meant to lose. And I know I shouldn¡¯t say that about him, and I know very well that wanting to be like him and trashing his name at the same time doesn¡¯t make sense, but not many people have seen Zeus take a knee.


    I was one of those people.


    And the girl who walked up the stairwell had the same eyes as the man who had made my father do just that. We can always tell different families from the glow in someone¡¯s eyes. How bright it is, how sharp and how much it pulsates with energy. It¡¯s a feeling, a signature, that can only ever be felt when you¡¯re around one another.


    I didn¡¯t feel it with Adam all the time, and that¡¯s why I didn¡¯t really care about him.


    Her, though?


    She felt like Titan.


    And if this wasn¡¯t Earth, and I wasn¡¯t any less stubborn, it would be me on my knees. I could feel my muscles tensing involuntarily. Feel my heart thumping faster against my chest as she finally stopped in the gray corona of the dim light coming from behind me. It had taken a while before I was allowed to play with the other kids here, because I hadn¡¯t known how to play with them. Our games are different, more¡­character building. It¡¯s kinda rude to punch someone until they yield, or wrestle them to the ground and snap their arm if they don¡¯t tap on this planet, and those customs had been beaten into us just as thoroughly. Don¡¯t look up. Don¡¯t shake hands. You stand and you wait and you shall not move until you¡¯re asked or told. Hell, it was even more fun for little old me, the half-human girl who could barely get two inches off the floor, and who was lumped in with the rest of the more colorful approaches to child bearing my people have tried in the past. Now wasn¡¯t any different. She stared at me with eyes of gold and a face almost as faultless as the power emanating around her. Memory told me to get down.


    To yield under her eyes and her stare and the blood flowing through her veins.


    Experience told me to narrow my eyes and say, ¡°Rhea. Here I thought it was the sewage making me sick.¡±


    She smiled a thin smile, the sharpness of her canines glinting in the light. ¡°You have grown bold, cousin.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re covered in the filth of your own excrement.¡±


    I would like to say I was lying, but she did look and smell that way. Her black hair was wild, like a storm of shadows was curled around her head and resting on her shoulders. She looked unkempt, reeked of sweat and urine and the faintest tang of dried blood that clung to her toned midriff. Rhea wore nothing except torn white trousers, a bandage that wrapped around her shoulder, and a top that only held her breasts and nothing more. Still muscular. Still domineering. Still with proud shoulders and a straight back. Scars from childhood littered her arms, shoulders and stomach, and I knew about the ones crossing her back, and the several more on the bottom of her feet. Just like me, my cousin was a latticework of violence since the day we were born. The only difference being that hers came from the countless days and the more than countless other kids she had put to the floor at her father¡¯s feet, only to be told not to stop when they start frothing at the mouth, but to keep digging her fingers deep into their throats.


    Between me and you, I was fucking terrified.


    Gods forbid she ever found that out. Not for my sake, but for the first person to pop into my mind. A certain girl with brown hair and freckles doesn¡¯t know who I am for many reasons, and one of which is right in front of me.


    ¡°Unfortunately, you are correct,¡± she said. ¡°Our time here has not been one of extreme comfort.¡±


    ¡°I can do you one better and put you out of your misery then.¡±


    That same flash of a smile, that same glint in her eyes that I had seen so many times before. ¡°A challenge?¡±


    ¡°A promise,¡± I said quietly, digging my fingernails deep into my palms to make them stop shaking.


    ¡°However entertaining that might be,¡± Caitlyn said, ¡°I have not lived this long just to perish in the crossfire between two warring children. Rhea¡±¡ªshe looked down at her¡ª¡°why are you wandering through these tunnels when I told you otherwise? It¡¯s for your own safety that you remain within your confines, is that clear?¡±


    I stared at Caitlyn, then back at Rhea, amazed that a human would even have the nerve to¡ª


    Rhea shrugged. ¡°I couldn¡¯t help but be attracted to a voice I could never forget.¡±


    ¡°Olympia is more important than your own survival?¡±


    Own survival? As far as I knew, we could damn nearly survive anything given enough time. But looking at her, at the other eyes of those behind her, their glow was fluctuating, dimming and then brightening. Their hearts were loud in my ears, not rapid, but slow and arduous, like they didn¡¯t want to have to keep slamming against their own chests anymore. The stink of blood was in the air. But not human blood. The blood of champions and kings, queens and their legions, empires and the nations they vanquished and the stones they stole to build grander castles. This was the smell of graveyards of the weak on my planet. The ones that didn¡¯t survive long enough to ever wonder what the sun felt like against our skin. Puke and defecation. Urine and saliva. The dark corridor behind them was like a throat that reeked of all these different smells, coming together to spit them out in the form of frail bodies (for us, at least), and placid hair, some even had sunken cheeks and had eyes that stuck out of their heads.


    I almost smiled, but pressed my lips firmly together, managing to look disgusted. They¡¯re weak.


    ¡°Olympia?¡± Rhea whispered, tilting her head. ¡°Ah, you have decided to give yourself one of these silly human monikers, even though you still wear the colors of an infant incapable of escaping the Culling Rooms.¡±


    Those behind her muttered amongst themselves in a tongue I would have rather left in my nightmares.


    ¡°It¡¯s a title,¡± I said to her. ¡°One that you¡¯re gonna learn to respect if you don¡¯t stop running your mouth.¡±


    ¡°My, you even speak like them,¡± Rhea said quietly. ¡°You were never one of us from the start, were you?¡±


    If it wasn¡¯t for Caitlyn putting her arm out to stop me, Rhea would have found out how hard a human could put a head into the concrete at their feet. ¡°Your survival, Rhea, and all of you as a whole, relies on trusting what I say. You know what can happen, and you know very well that Olympia is more capable than you are right now to win a confrontation. Unless, of course, you¡¯d like to embarrass yourself,¡± she said, eyes narrowing, and her voice still as emotionless as it had been talking to me. When Rhea said nothing, only tensing her jaw and staring at me dead, Caitlyn continued. ¡°Good. It¡¯s unfortunate, but she can help with our shared problem, but in return, you have to listen to what I have to say, starting with you understanding very well that this will not be a fight you take.¡±


    Silence. Very long, and very thick silence prevailed.


    Then: ¡°This half-breed is going to aid us?¡±


    ¡°And yet it¡¯s you who can hardly stand on two feet without trembling, oh great warriors,¡± Caitlyn said. ¡°Like it or not, the Daughter of Zeus is better equipped than I am in understanding your problem. In all honesty, however, I also want her for my own reasons. So please, your squabbling has to end, because I have a need for you, too, just like the way you do with me, and we can¡¯t aid each other if your people are too weak to even raise a fist.¡±


    ¡°So your side of this acquaintancy ends because you¡¯re incapable of ¡®holding up the deal,¡¯ like you say?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said calmly. ¡°I¡¯m offering you aid in the form of Olympia, but she would only help you in return if I bargain with her on my own terms. She has no reason to help you, judging by the hatred in her voice. Your fathers murdered one another, and now here you stand underneath her, unable to fly, unable to fight, covered in layers of filth, and she can certainly send you to whatever afterlife your people believe in. Try as I might, I probably wouldn¡¯t even be able to stop her from doing so, and it¡¯s by her good graces alone that she hasn¡¯t. She has no reason to help you, none whatsoever, and she can leave you here to rot.¡± Caitlyn glanced at me, then said, ¡°Or she can let you live, but that¡¯s only if our agreement reaches a conclusion that satisfies what she wants as well, Rhea. So yes, the child you call a half-breed will be your savior, but that¡¯s only if you don¡¯t sour your relationships more than you already have. We need one another to succeed right now, and for that to happen, you must also hold up our deal.¡±


    She didn¡¯t like being spoken to that way, and you could see it in her eyes, in her posture and how it briefly tightened, almost as if she wanted to see if she was as weak as Caitlyn had pointed out. That part had probably pissed her off, but maybe Cat had done that for me, to make me know that these people weren¡¯t that big of a deal as I had feared. Rhea stared at me through the tongues of curly black hair that fell over her eyes, then looked over her shoulder as one of the figures standing behind her coughed harshly. The sound echoed, sharp like a gunshot in the tunnel that rang through the dark. With it came the scent of saliva, a dry mouth, and specks of blood on their hand.


    She turned back around, glancing at the floor, then back at Caitlyn. It was a while before she spoke, but before she did, she muttered something in our tongue that would have probably gotten that tongue pulled out of her throat by her own father. ¡°And it¡¯s true,¡± she said, ¡° that this cousin of mine is capable of helping all of us?¡±


    This time, I answered. ¡°I¡¯m a superhero. I help people sometimes, unless they act like a pain.¡±


    ¡°A¡­superhero,¡± she repeated, mulling the word around her mouth. ¡°Once again I hear that word.¡±


    ¡°Like one of the Legionnaires,¡± I said to her, to the rest of them below me. ¡°Without all the genocide.¡±


    Her nose scrunched up, as if she¡¯d just smelt something terribly rank. ¡°You dare consider yourself as¡ª¡±


    ¡°Rhea,¡± a voice whispered behind her, this one from a stick-thin boy with gaunt cheeks and eyes so dim they barely emitted light. His voice rattled out of his mouth from deep in his chest. ¡°She may not wear their colors, or have been Blessed by the Graces to own the title, but if Circe speaks of her so reverently, then who are we to say otherwise? Your fathers are dead, and with them, your hatred for her should, too.¡± He took a step forward, staggered, then with the help of a shorter girl with hair cut to her scalp, he managed to climb up the stairs to stand just behind Rhea. ¡°She is a champion of this world, and by all accounts, she should have killed you for speaking so ill of her.¡±


    Champion is a bit of a stretch, but I¡¯m not gonna stop him.


    ¡°She is right,¡± the girl beside him said. Her eyes flicked at me, then at Rhea. ¡°She¡­smells like them, may not feel like one of us, but as Circe has said in the past, there are people who would rather us dead than healed.¡±


    ¡°And she¡¯s the only one who can make sure that this foul darkness is not our grave,¡± the boy said.


    The two others behind Rhea remained silent, not backing up their friends, but not intervening either. One was still large enough to make Adam look like he had just begun lifting weights a few hours ago, and the other girl was something different entirely. She had tanned skin and short brown hair, eyes like golden amber, and two scars crossing over her cheek, going from her ear to her mouth. It may have been dark, but the thread-like scars that snaked around her arms were clear. Her arms remained folded and her head tilted, as if she didn¡¯t want me to see the nasty infection I could smell festering in one of her eye sockets. She stood a little shorter than the blonde-haired boy beside her, but from where I¡¯m from, her people are almost a different breed entirely. What the hell is this place? How long had they been hiding down here? Some of them looked barely strong enough to walk. The rest of them looked as healthy as they probably would have back home, maybe even more so. But none of them looked alive.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Hell, they were rotting from the inside out. I could smell it.


    Rhea sighed through her nose, unclenched her hands, and said, ¡°Circe, our bargain remains.¡±


    ¡°Naturally, I suppose that¡¯s only on the grounds of your survival,¡± she said, glancing at me.


    Rhea very, very slowly raised her fist, then thumped it against her heart, staring at me.


    ¡°We shake hands on this planet,¡± I said, sticking it out toward her. She glared at me, and I waited.


    Finally, when the two beside her pressed her with a whisper, Rhea grudgingly shook my hand.


    And my Gods, I was more than sure I could rip her hand clean off her wrist.


    It almost made me smile.


    When Overseer Two had sat me down for a talk a few weeks ago and told me that my people had been here for millenia, I¡¯d brushed it off as just another way of him trying to get me on his side. Maybe to make me feel accepted, known, like one of them because I had enough of a claim on this planet as the humans did. And the thing was, these Olypians weren¡¯t the first Olympians. They were the second. And the only reason I know that is because Dennie had told me that years ago, which I had also brushed off. I had been young, it had been hot, the summer break had been long and the lemonade I had gotten from a corner store had been perfect, and I had been trying to read the newest issue of that week¡¯s release without being bothered. But then he¡¯d peaked over my shoulder, chuckled, and said, You shoulda seen the first group. They made these ones look like chumps. Of course, being me, I had argued with him, because Cleopatra, Heka, dad, looking like chumps to anyone else at that time was just pure nonsense.


    I had only really started believing both Dennie and Overseer Two just a few minutes ago.


    Circe had led the way through the dark tunnel, tracing her fingers along the walls to make tiny golden flowers blossom with light as we walked. It had been silent for an eternity, interrupted only by the painfully loud echo of hacking coughs. Then, ever so slowly, the darkness had begun to recede, and the tunnel had gotten wider.


    Wide enough, eventually, to open up into a cavern large enough to house pillars of stone so grand I was more than sure they were connected to the stalactite-filled ceiling. Ruins littered the space in front of me, with stones the size of small cars in piles, and some still together enough to form the skeletons of buildings that might have once been down here. I couldn¡¯t help but leave the others, floating above it all. Gods. The enormous hollow had enough space for it to fit in trees and vines so large they looked like they shouldn¡¯t even belong on Earth. The pillars were coated in those same vines, each of them blooming with those golden flowers, as if they were keeping the weak stone together. But amongst the vegetation and the stone lay heaps of metal and slabs of steel. A hexagon in the ground made from white metal was coated in dust, with most of it in bits and pieces, revealing an even deeper hole beneath it. Hell, most of the chunks of metal were warped by the stones that looked as if they had been thrown into them. In some respect, it kinda looked like a battlefield. The kind of battlefield where nobody had ever won.


    And I guessed that just meant it was a graveyard.


    Large pieces of the floor were nothing more than craters turned into shallow pools by leaking pipes spitting out sewer water from above. Some of the walls were littered with similar hexagonal tunnel entrances to the one we had walked out of, as if I had just entered some kind of hive. Some were shut, others looked as if they had been forced open by strained bodies, and others gushed nothing but rubble from their openings. Tattered pieces of fabric hung off the few broken pillars that dotted the space beneath me, and¡­Gods, right there on one of the larger pillars, hung a banner I thought I would never see again in my life. A banner that knotted my stomach and turned my saliva bitter. But in its current state, it would have made the Emperor and his sweeping bloodline collapse in dismay. It was tattered fabric, filthy with dust and age and covered in mold. And not just that, but the bones that littered this pillar specifically, the collection of skeletons that lay around it, were all grasping for their kingdom¡¯s banner. Our kingdom¡¯s banner. Hell, the entire place was littered with shattered bones and rotting imperial regalia.


    What the hell happened here?


    For a moment, it almost seemed as if I wasn¡¯t on Earth anymore.


    ¡°Stunning, isn¡¯t it, what time can do to anything,¡± Rhea muttered. I turned and saw her sitting atop one of the broken pillars not too far from me, her elbow on her knee and her fingers constantly in a cycle of clenching and unclenching. She hadn¡¯t spoken to me since we had shaken hands, and that same hand was the one most covered in a dusting of dried blood. ¡°Back home, anyone would have considered this holy grounds. Slaves would have made temples out of this rubble, and the bones would have been set alight to burn for millenia. Now it¡¯s just an old pit.¡±


    ¡°Mind telling me what the hell happened down here?¡± I asked her.


    Rhea stood and faced me. ¡°Earth,¡± she said. ¡°How far along is it?¡±


    Ah, so we¡¯re doing this right here and now. I had been wondering when she was going to ask, and a part of me figured that she hadn¡¯t liked when her group had sided with me over her. We were roughly the same age, maybe she was older, but age didn¡¯t mean too much when power trumped all. We can live for hundreds of years, some of us, and those are the ones you have to watch out for, or the ones you ridicule most for being too cowardly to fight anyone of our caliber. Not all of us were made for war, that was just a given, like the skinny boy who was now sitting against a pillar, swaying as if he was dizzy, looking forlornly at the metallic hexagon on the ground. But the ones that are meant for war and conquest only lived that long because they won or played it smart. It so happened that neither Rhea or I was very keen on seeing out our graying years ever since we first met each other. And I could see it in her eyes, that look of disdain and anger that, after all these years, she was looking up at me now. The half breed who shared her blood. Who, by her thinking, had watched her own father get butchered on a secluded planet.


    The question she asked came from a place in her heart that was so cold and hard that it would take Barbaria¡¯s warhammer and dozens more Olympias to so much as crack it. My cousin had been sent here for a reason.


    And that really sucked for her, because she was at my mercy now. Harper might have been a bully.


    Rhea had always been a threat. The bigger one. The older one. Our fathers may have been brothers, and may have seen countless wars and countless more victories on who knows how many worlds, but shit¡¯s changed since then. We¡¯re not kids, and I wasn¡¯t going to feel threatened by a girl who¡¯s rank meant nothing around here.


    So, very slowly, I floated toward her, looked her dead in the eyes, and said, ¡°Strong enough to kill you.¡±


    She scowled. ¡°The humans are capable of killing me?¡± Rhea said, spitting the words out of her mouth as if even saying them made her sick. ¡°After you left, I was ranked and even burned.¡± She raised her right hand to her chest, and there on the back of her palm was a latticework of golden markings that wove around her fingers and up her arm, turning to black when she lowered her hand again. ¡°I shed first blood in a conflict on distant moons, led dozens of those older than me onto battlefields that saw them get slaughtered because of their weakness, and I alone had the Emperor himself ask me for guidance. I was to be the next Legionnaire in our line¡ªin my line, and¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be as thick as concrete if you think you¡¯re helping your case right now,¡± I said icily. I got closer, but Rhea was too proud to step away from me. ¡°I don¡¯t give a shit what you did or who you did it with. You¡¯re here on Earth, Rhea, and the truth is, you¡¯re sick. You¡¯re dying. You think I can¡¯t smell it? Your breath reeks of decay, and your gums are black. Fuck me, you probably don¡¯t even have all your teeth in that mouth, do you?¡±


    For once she remained silent, and for once I thanked the gods she shut up.


    ¡°So let me make this clear,¡± I said, dropping my voice,and using our tongue, butchering it in my mouth so I could see that shock of disgust cross her face, ¡°I¡¯ll help your friends and kill you the first chance I get if you keep talking like your dad did. You¡¯re not Titan. And there was never anything great about him, anyway. He lost to the bastard child of the family, and you know what? Let¡¯s not make it two-and-o on the tenth anniversary of your loss.¡±


    Silence, then: ¡°You reek of humanity. Of weakness and betrayal.¡±


    I smiled, then leaned in close to her ear. ¡°And I¡¯m still better than you¡¯ll ever be.¡±


    Rhea scoffed. ¡°You¡¯re not even half of what I am.¡±


    Shrugged one shoulder, tilted my head, and said, ¡°Hand on your throat, other on your shoulder, and let¡¯s split you in half and really figure out if you¡¯re still worth more than me when your guts are spilling out of you.¡±


    We stared at each other for a very long time, neither of us moving, meaning I was close enough to smell the stink of death that sat in the base of her throat. Look at you, so afraid of finally dying¡ªexcept there¡¯s nobody who¡¯s gonna miss you, but there¡¯s a whole load of people that are gonna praise your murderer. If I was any more human than I was, I would have felt bad for Rhea. But you don¡¯t forget years of being told, of being taught, that you¡¯re less than someone just because they were about to kick it. I was a superhero. I saved people. And who am I kidding? She was better off dead and rotting in some pit in the sewers than being allowed to see the sun, and oh, gods, Caitlyn was going to find out very quickly that I had no actual intent on giving her whatever it is that she wanted. Her sister had stabbed me in the back and ran away into the dark, leaving me in the shits. I was just returning the favor.


    As for my cousin¡­


    There was a reason Titan¡¯s body was never found¡ªI doubted there was much to find, anyway.


    I gave her a once over just as Circe called my name. Like father, like daughter soon.


    A few months ago, and I would have wanted the world to see me kill her, because maybe that was going to be what I needed to get a statue. I would have survived a fight against the one person who matched me, who was maybe even stronger than me, but you know what would be even better than that? Killing her in this damp, dark, forgotten little graveyard, and leaving her body as one of the many skeletons that had no face or pride or voice to tell anyone about who they were. That kind of satisfaction trumped any I would get seeing myself immortalized in gold. And I said this all with full confidence, because Rhea hadn¡¯t always been this way when we were little kids.


    But ever since she had learnt to fly, she had made it very clear that our period of friendship was over.


    Like I said, I was just returning the favor and reciprocating her energy. Oh, gods, I bet she hated seeing the hopeful glint in her friends¡¯ eyes when I landed on the grass. How they stood, swayed, but watched me reverently.


    Who would have thought being a nice person could feel so good?


    ¡°I take it your conversation with Rhea wasn¡¯t fruitful,¡± the sickly boy said, watching as Rhea briefly glowered down at us, then leaped from the pillar and into one of the hexagonal tunnels, disappearing from view.


    I shrugged. ¡°Doesn¡¯t really matter to me if she wants to sulk all day just ¡®cause I¡¯m here to save you.¡±


    Maybe.


    ¡°I still don¡¯t quite understand why,¡± the girl who kept helping him stand asked. ¡°You were treated¡ª¡±


    I waved her off and said, ¡°It¡¯s whatever. I¡¯ll be honest, I don¡¯t trust any of you, but I need Circe¡¯s help, and the only way I can get back to what I needed to do is by helping you guys out, and not because I like any of you.¡±


    The boy smiled thinly. ¡°If nothing else, you¡¯re straightforward.¡±


    ¡°You should see me in action. Some people think I¡¯m boring because I deal with my supervillains quickly, but what¡¯s the point of staying for a chat when you can knock their heads clean off their shoulders, you know?¡±


    And to my surprise, it was the girl beside him who giggled. ¡°A champion who doesn¡¯t show mercy!¡±


    ¡°Are you sure your mother is human?¡± the boy asked, then coughed, paused, and smiled weakly.


    The biggest one of them grunted. His hair was long enough to sweep his shoulders, and it covered his eyes as he sat down on a warped piece of metal and leaned forward. The girl with the eye infection hadn¡¯t stopped circling me, the same way a shark would a bleeding victim. It was slow and it was meticulous, and I figured it was the training in her that was making her so wary of me. Sickness be damned, she was still willing to think that she could win in a fight against me, and in all honesty, I couldn¡¯t fault her spirit for that, because I would do the same. Hell, all I¡¯ve done this summer is nearly die but think so highly of myself that I¡¯ve somehow managed not to croak yet. When she finally stopped pacing, she crouched, her short black hair wispy enough for her to stare death at me.


    She wouldn¡¯t speak to me unless necessary, and the larger guy would more than likely hurt me. I had to admit that facing off with Rhea had left me a little tense, a little tightened up and ready for something to happen. I had provoked her, I knew I had, and I relished it, but I also knew she didn¡¯t take kindly to being ignored or insulted, because at the end of the day, human or otherwise, she had a heart, however cold it was. We could whisper and we could murmur, but everyone would have heard what we had said to each other. No, I didn¡¯t feel bad ridiculing her, and yes, it felt good hearing the girl laugh and knowing Rhea heard it too. If it weren¡¯t for Ava¡¯s sister walking up beside me, I would have continued talking to them, continued rubbing it in, but I had a city to save, so pent up anger and hate and long-standing family feuds aside, it was time to get down to why I was here in the first place


    Because it wasn¡¯t to catch up with Titan¡¯s daughter.


    Circe said, ¡°I would much rather be honest with you too, if we¡¯re to help each other¡¯s causes.¡±


    ¡°Before I tell you about your dad,¡± I said, ¡°you¡¯re gonna have to tell me what you want with them, ¡®cause me and you are gonna have a problem if you¡¯re thinking of using them to take over the world. Not happening.¡±


    She pointed across the cavern, past the towering pillars, and the banners that hung stiffly off shattered white stones. I narrowed my eyes, then pursed my lips when I saw what she was pointing at: the metal hexagon embedded in the ground with a chunk of it missing and even more of a hole underneath it. I knew what that was, knew what it could do, and the next moments of Circe¡¯s life could very well be determined by what she said next.


    ¡°Pure unbridled energy,¡± Caitlyn said. ¡°And the new frontier for humanity. All of it right here, rotting.¡±


    I turned my head to look at her, folding my arms. ¡°Do you know what¡¯ll happen if you use it?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said to me flatly. ¡°Because I also know that without it, the world might end soon.¡±

 Issue #45: The Banished Pt.3: Biting The Bullet

    I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that I had practically heard those words from somewhere else before, almost from the same sounding voice, too, as if Caitlyn had copied someone. Supervillains are always trying to save the world or save someone they loved in some fashion that involved the literal detriment of everyone else on the planet other than themselves, ultimately, but I figured hearing it come out of both the Rivera sister¡¯s mouths was some kind of bitter cosmic irony, except Caitlyn didn¡¯t have a proposal for me afterward, and didn¡¯t have that dull twinkle in her eyes that told me she had something in mind for me later. She stared at me, just as silent as the rest of the cavern, because her words, she knew, should mean something to me. A superhero is always meant to save the world, right?


    But if she thought for one second that I was gonna believe her, then she had to be stupid.


    She must have seen the skepticism on my face, because she soon said, ¡°But I¡¯m not going to pretend that you¡¯ll trust what I have to say. After all, you¡¯ve no reason to do so. And if it¡¯s not my word you¡¯ll take, it¡¯s theirs.¡±


    I turned to look at the others, especially at the boy struggling to stay on his feet. I know I still needed Caitlyn¡¯s help, and knew that the only way I was going to get what she knew would be by helping her, but this was a lot more than I bargained for tonight. Maybe fate had it out for me somehow, because I had a bad track record of trying to find something simple, and ultimately finding myself in situations where shit¡¯s already hit the fan a long time before I had anything to do with it. From where I¡¯m from, we¡¯ve got the equivalent of the Fates in our pantheon, except she¡¯s a woman, according to legend, who was driven mad by what she saw and and thus led the universe in its entirety to be riddled with chaos and conflict because her brain got fucked somewhere along the way, and I had always kind of felt she had taken a special interest in me, because I was getting very, very tired of this.


    Especially when the explanation had to come out of a mouth I knew I couldn¡¯t trust. But fine, I thought, sighing a little. I could play pretend, listen to what they had to say, if it meant getting what I needed from Caitlyn.


    The girl glanced at the boy beside her, then pursed her lips when she looked back at me. She couldn¡¯t keep her eyes focused on me long enough to think she wasn¡¯t lying, because with everyone I had met so far, they had looked me dead in the eyes when they were spinning their fairy tales. ¡°Well,¡± she began, stopped, then got a slow nod from the boy next to her. ¡°A¡­dispute took place here decades ago, a lot longer than any of us were here to begin with, but even by the time we arrived, the plans put in place had soon become the tools of war between us.¡±


    They¡¯ve been hiding underneath New Olympus for gods know how long. This whole time I had been watching the sky and the stars and the horizon, wondering when they would be coming. Turns out I wasn¡¯t even looking in the right direction. But considering the state of this place, I figured not many more of them are here.


    ¡°Yeah?¡± I said. ¡°And what exactly were these plans of yours?¡±


    ¡°Conquest,¡± the bigger guy grunted, in a voice so deep I felt it in my bones.


    The smaller boy nodded, then quickly said, ¡°But things soon changed.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re treading very thin ice right now.¡±


    ¡°Thin ice?¡± the girl asked, looking at her feet. ¡°I do not¡ª¡±


    ¡°It means that you¡¯re making a lot of sense, but the kind of sense I don¡¯t want to hear.¡±


    ¡°Remember,¡± Caitlyn said, maybe to all of us, maybe to me alone. ¡°Our success will come through working together, and playing games with one another won¡¯t get us anywhere. Speak of it directly, and leave the theatrics.¡±


    ¡°They wanted Earth,¡± the boy said, his words echoing in the silence. ¡°We wanted Earth.¡±


    I stared at him, not blinking, then asked, ¡°We¡¯re not known for having a change of heart.¡±


    ¡°I assume you mean we¡¯re not likely to give up on our goals,¡± he said. ¡°And you¡¯ll be right. Nothing has changed, but then again, neither the Legionnaires or their guardsmen are here to enforce their ideals on us, too.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°So, what, you guys like how plush the Earth is and say ¡®Hey, this place isn¡¯t so bad after all, maybe we shouldn¡¯t take it over and use it as some kind of festering little breeding planet.¡¯ Bullshit.¡± I turned to Caitlyn. ¡°This was a bad idea from the start, and your sister made it a lot harder for me to trust anything anyone in your family has to say ever. So you¡¯re either gonna have to come up with something good, or get this charade over with and tell me what I want to know. These people don¡¯t have a bone of change in their bodies. They¡¯re talking this way because they¡¯re hopeless and weak and are probably gonna be dead by next week. Now they want help, now they want someone to save them, but oh, I forgot, they also want to take over the entire fucking world.¡±


    Because the only reason the world was going to end is because of them. You know how many nutjobs I¡¯ve dealt with in the past, yelling about the next great world ending threat? The next supervillain who¡¯ll succeed in starting an unfortunate series of events that¡¯ll end up killing millions? Hell, I could grab a few right now from the graveyards they were anonymously buried in and show you what I thought about their predictions. Fate and I were never going to be friends, and the only reason I shook Rhea¡¯s hand was because Caitlyn hadn¡¯t sprouted her end of the world crap on me yet. If she had been building some kind of superweapon, or trying to create some unstoppable army, then sure, I could deal with that easily. But she wanted to use a specific kind of energy, a specific kind of tech, that would only mean Earth became prime picking for the entire damned universe. Gods know why nobody¡¯s tried to take this place by force alone, knowing how fragile the humans are, but hey, maybe they were all really lucky.


    And that luck would end the second any one of those hexagons around the planet turned on.


    ¡°You would let us die here?¡± the girl whispered.


    ¡°A superhero,¡± the brown-skinned girl said, her voice raspy and dry. ¡°Earth¡¯s savior, champion, just like the Legionnaires. You¡¯re sworn to help others, are you not? To ensure that their lives remain alight no matter what?¡±


    ¡°Right on the money,¡± I said to her. ¡°Except I save people who don¡¯t get millions of other people killed.¡±


    ¡°But we are your blood,¡± the smaller girl said. ¡°Your birthright is the stars. It¡¯s us, your people.¡±


    ¡°Keep talking like that, and it¡¯ll hurt to be alive soon.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s unfortunate,¡± Caitlyn said quietly, rubbing her temples with her thumb and forefinger, ¡°that when the world is very much in trouble, it lies in the hands of those whose grip is far too powerful not to break it. Olympia, I¡¯ll extend my apologies to you, because I should have phrased myself much better, and I¡¯ll do so on their behalf as well.¡± She gestured at our surroundings, at the metal and the stone and the greenery that was growing in their cracks and splitting them apart. ¡°This place is old, and one could almost say it is ancient, and its purpose is even lost to me, because I¡¯m not the one who found it, nor am I the only one to ever do so. There are people, very powerful people, who know of its existence. People who run the largest militaries in the world, and people who lead lives of masks and lies and deception to those around them. Do you want to know why I never remained in New Olympus?¡±


    I remained silent, waiting for her to continue, tapping my finger against my bicep.


    ¡°It¡¯s because there is a man, a man who holds power unimaginable lurking those streets, and it was that same man who made my own father understand that the world was changing, and the gods really are on their way.¡±


    Quietly, I asked, ¡°And what¡¯s his name?¡±


    Please, please don¡¯t say dad.


    ¡°Caesar,¡± she said, and right then, my mouth went dry. Caitlyn walked forward, and where she stepped, flowers blossomed through the dirt and the stones. She stopped a few steps away from me, close enough to a chunk of metal the size of a backpack. ¡°Intelligence will always trump authority if it¡¯s used well, and with intelligence comes information, and with information comes the knowledge of secrets. New Olympus is a city that has seen too many lives and too many different stories to ever just be another city on the planet. What she hides can tear apart the continent and the world and, quite possible, seeing as you¡¯re all arguing, even the stars. And it¡¯s those same men who know these secrets, who are that intelligent to know these things, that made me turn away and leave Lucian.¡±


    ¡°So you ran away because you were scared?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No,¡± Caitlyn said. ¡°I gave up on his vision.¡±


    ¡°And lemme guess, Lucian wanted to take over the city or the world or some crap.¡±


    She smiled very thinly and shook her head. ¡°No, he was content with what he had, because if a human like him could make a man like your father shake his hand, then he was the most powerful person on the planet. Things, as they always do, change, and my earlier anger at learning of his death wasn¡¯t because I was hurt¡ªthough I¡¯ll admit, I still can¡¯t quite believe it¡ªbut it was because I had told him myself I was going to kill him with my own two hands. Choke the life from his lungs and keep his heart on the same mantleplace he hung our stockings from. He wasn¡¯t the man I believed in any more, and maybe he was never meant to be anything more than my father and not a teacher, but those were the cards I was dealt, but the deck of fate wanted our paths crossed in blood, too.¡±


    Hearing those words come out of her mouth almost felt like a slap to the face. Ava, a bit like me if I was being honest, only ever had good things to say about Lucian. She dressed like him, tried, I¡¯m guessing, to talk the way he did and carry herself the same way. That leather chair she had sat in had always been a little too large for her, too much like a child sitting where they shouldn¡¯t belong. Caitlyn was meant to be next in line, and yet here she was saying things that only made me wonder what exactly it is she¡¯d gone through growing up to hate him. Dad hadn¡¯t been perfect in his own right, but at least he¡¯d never lied to me my entire life about how he truly felt about me, or used me for the tool he saw me as. His actions spoke to me, but Caitlyn had grown up loved, taken care of, watched over by thugs who would just as quickly buy her ice cream as they would murder a man who gave her a cone that was cracked. So, if I was being honest, I didn¡¯t believe what she was saying, but a part of me couldn¡¯t help but think that yeah, she was telling the truth, because I could also think of a few things I¡¯d like to say to someone who had also raised me almost my entire life. And gods, wasn¡¯t that a realization splashing me cold in the face?


    ¡°What does any of this have to do with the end of the world?¡± I asked her, my voice light.


    ¡°There were more of us,¡± the boy whispered. ¡°But that changed not so long ago.¡±


    ¡°People¡­humans¡­found us,¡± the girl said to me, finally looking me in the eyes, but all I could see were circles of sleepless nights etched deep into her face. Exhaustion. A haunted look that made it seem as if she was seeing things just over my shoulder, things that surrounded me that I couldn¡¯t see, but that I could hear. I had gotten better at ignoring those whispering voices, but they hadn¡¯t stopped ever since arriving into the cavern. ¡°It was as much of a surprise to us as it was a surprise to Circe and the one you call Daisy. We should have known earlier, but we didn¡¯t, and despite even our best efforts, enough blood flowed on this grass to make it grow fresh once more.¡±


    At that moment, I heard the sound of another heart beating that little bit harder. I glanced at the hexagonal tunnels surrounding us, and saw Rhea sat inside one, a speck of a thing clouded by the darkness surrounding her.


    We met eyes for just a brief second, and the next, she was back to looking at her hands.


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    ¡°They didn¡¯t kill,¡± the girl still crouched opposite me said. ¡°They stole.¡±


    My mouth soured and my stomach tensed, because suddenly, this wasn¡¯t a conversation I had been expecting to have, and suddenly, I understood why it was such a big problem to have for the entire world. I sat down on a small boulder, elbows on my knees as I cupped my face and wiped the sweat sitting on my cheeks. Why can¡¯t it ever just be one problem at a freaking time? And to think this all started because I packed my Olympia costume in my backpack before leaving for graduation that morning instead of leaving it there in my wardrobe. In some ways, Lucas had been the catalyst in all of this, but in other ways, I wished that the city would have been a lot smaller, a lot more manageable for me to handle like it had been for heroes gone past. So far, most of my problems weren¡¯t even mine to begin with, but problems that had started when I was probably only old enough to chew on my own fingers and think shiny lights were the most entertaining thing that could happen to me. I wasn¡¯t complaining, I just needed¡­Gods, I don¡¯t really know what I needed to do or what I needed to start with or who I needed to focus on.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± the larger boy asked to my surprise. ¡°You look frail.¡±


    ¡°Tired, more like,¡± I muttered. I looked at Caitlyn. ¡°How many did they take?¡±


    ¡°How much is a better estimate,¡± she said. ¡°As much metal as they could transport, five of them, too.¡±


    ¡°How the hell did a bunch of humans stop you guys?¡± I said. ¡°I mean, you¡¯re an easy A-Grade, Circe.¡±


    The smaller boy coughed once and then twice, with the third time leaving him dizzy enough to be sat down by the girl beside him on the grass. I smelt metal on his throat, and watched as he knuckled away a trail of blood that seeped from his nose. ¡°I believe you would call it a drug,¡± he said, wiping his nose on his tattered shirt. ¡°We¡¯ve never encountered anything like it before, because the few of us that remained aren¡¯t the few who are here right now. It left us weak, confused, unable to stop them from descending on us like the Tralgen-kin have so many times before. And, quite frankly, without Rhea, Thalia and Circe, we would never have survived this long, too.¡±


    I paused, sat on the rock, letting his words ring in my ears. Then I stood up and flew backwards, staring at each of them, at how they winced as they moved their bodies, how they wheezed and how loudly their hearts sounded in their chests. I hadn¡¯t noticed it for a while because I had thought it was Circe and her flowers, the pollen or the nectar or just the sweetness of her overwhelming scent. But there it was in the air, in their lungs. In mine.


    The saccharine scent of death was flowing through all of us. Not enough to kill, but enough to tranquilize.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± I whispered, then said it louder. ¡°Who was it that came down here? Did you see faces?¡±


    Caitlyn said, ¡°No. They were armed and protected, and only engaged when sure.¡±


    I dragged a hand through my hair as my head began pounding. You¡¯ve got to be fucking kidding me right now, when am I gonna find something simple to do in this damned city? ¡°And you said they took metal, too?¡±


    ¡°As I had said,¡± Caitlyn muttered, ¡°the end of the world is coming, and will not cease unless power is harnessed by us before it is done against us. What they¡¯re planning to do is beyond me. I cannot leave this place, and thus I cannot be sure of their objectives with what they have collected from us, but one thing is clear: they will return eventually, and when they do, it¡¯ll be with clearer thoughts and an understanding of the treasure they have gotten their hands on. Governments the world over are soon going to find out what unmatched power really is.¡±


    I swore, then said, ¡°Then why the hell didn¡¯t you tell anybody about this?¡±


    ¡°And what would the world have done, finding these people here?¡± she asked. Then, quieter: ¡°What would they have done, these people so afraid of their own superhuman brothers and sisters, to the Daughter of Titan?¡±


    ¡°Does it matter?¡± I asked. ¡°The world is about to get fucked if those people understand what they stole.¡±


    ¡°What of our lives?¡± Thalia, I¡¯m guessing, asked. ¡°Are we not worthwhile enough to protect?¡±


    ¡°Five lives traded for the billions more on the planet,¡± I said. ¡°Scale tips to one side.¡±


    ¡°I now understand why Circe wasn¡¯t willing for you to help us,¡± Rhea said. I turned, and found her crouched atop a jagged piece of metal riddled with holes and torn to chunks embedded deep into the floor. ¡°I also understand that being this so-called superhero to you, cousin, is a way for you to pretend you are their savior.¡± She spat saliva onto the floor, but I wasn¡¯t stupid¡ªsaw the blood in her spit. ¡°You¡¯re nothing like our fathers, and if you think you can fool the humans that you¡¯re their champion, then choosing not to save those of your own blood will ultimately lead to your pathetic slaughter. Your pathetic, backwards little planet would be nothing more than a speck to those who¡¯ve both stolen from us, and those who¡¯ll rain down from the heavens like hellfire very soon.¡±


    I glared at her, chewing my tongue before I said, ¡°First of all, Earth isn¡¯t pathetic. It¡¯s better than any home any of you have ever known. And second of all, yeah, I might not be like dad, but I¡¯m also not gonna let my home get turned to ash by the same braindead idiots living on it. I don¡¯t give a shit about you or the Conquest, because the Emperor and the Grand Admiral and every godsdamned Legionnaire can come and try to take this place away from me, but they¡¯re gonna have to rip my hands clean off if you think I¡¯m letting go. In case you forgot, cousin, you made it clear that I didn¡¯t have a home amongst you, so I went and found myself one, and letting you all keep talking means that I know enough for none of you to be useful anymore. Five deaths means nothing when I can save several billion, and giving any kind of power to the Devil¡¯s Daughter would be suicide for everyone, too.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re too adamant on labels,¡± Caitlyn said, making me turn around. ¡°Certain things mean a great deal more to you than they do to other people. Some would call that passionate. Others would call that detrimental.¡±


    ¡°Being a superhero means saving the world,¡± I said icily. ¡°If there are people out there who have this tech, and who have people like them weak enough to control, and controllable to make work, then Earth is screwed.¡±


    ¡°And is it not the greater good that I¡¯m after?¡± Caitlyn asked. ¡°Harnessing this technology¡ª¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t gonna freaking happen,¡± I said, rising a little. ¡°Not in your hands.¡±


    And then Rhea chuckled, then laughed, and it took everything I had not to fill her wide open mouth with my fist and some knuckles. Eventually, gasping for air, she said, ¡°My! You¡¯re no hero, you¡¯re just afraid that when the humans finally understand how to harness our technology, the Emperor will take it as a beacon for our arrival!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m saving them from themselves,¡± I snapped, my voice echoing. Both the smaller girl and boy flinched. I flew closer to Rhea, getting close enough to make her laugh, but she still didn¡¯t move, and still remained with that smile on her face. ¡°They don¡¯t know half the problems the universe is hiding them from, and if they learn to¡ª¡±


    ¡°If they learn, they won¡¯t require your services anymore,¡± she said, grinning. ¡°They¡¯ll be powerful, and you will be nothing more than a creature no more powerful than one of them donning our technology, cousin.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s not a single human who¡¯s gonna match me just ¡®cause of some broken tech,¡± I growled.


    ¡°But you said it yourself,¡± she said. ¡°You may not be half of me, but neither will they be once they learn. Then again, you alone are the one who can kill us all right here and now, and your blood is only half of ours.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re finally gonna admit that you¡¯re weak? That you got your own people stolen?¡±


    Her eyes darkened, and the smile faltered and vanished. ¡°Say what you wish about my efforts, but your precious home will soon not require your services any longer, and you¡¯ll be better dissected and studied, Ry¡¯ee.¡±


    ¡°Unless,¡± a weak voice, from the boy on the grass, said, ¡°you save us, and we can thus save you.¡±


    All too quickly, my saliva turned bitter. ¡°I¡¯d rather sit here and watch you rot if you think I¡¯d let any of you trick me into helping you. You¡¯d kill me the second you have enough strength to stand on your own two feet.¡±


    ¡°Trust is best forged when strained,¡± Caitlyn said to me. ¡°This technology will save countless lives.¡±


    ¡°Or kill countless more,¡± I argued.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°It could, just the same as with the first stick that humanity ever picked off the ground, or the first rock he used to kill the creatures that hunted it. Any leap in progress will always be a double edged sword, because humanity is never going to be a simple species, and this next step will change the world forever. Nobody knows more about this technology and the power it holds than those in this cavern, and yet look at us, hiding in the darkness of a maze long forgotten, afraid because of what humanity would do to itself if it ever gets its hands on this power. But in the right hands, in the hands of someone who can protect this world, it¡¯ll change everything.¡±


    ¡°Or we could all just leave the technology alone,¡± I said. ¡°And I could go back to finding a Kaiju.¡±


    ¡°Similarly, you could protect the lives from those who stole your people and your resources.¡±


    ¡°Admit it,¡± Rhea said in the silence. ¡°You are afraid, cousin. Humanity¡¯s progression means¡ª¡±


    ¡°Rhea,¡± the boy said, almost snapping. ¡°We are dying. We will continue to die. This planet will never trust us, but they will hate you, fear you, but not her, because she is the one they chant for, her¡¯s is the name they cheer. Fine, so be it if we perish, but let our deaths mean something more than just¡­just another sacrifice to a pantheon that has left us here to rot in the caverns of a planet who would much rather butcher our bodies and study our souls than ever let us see the light of their sun. We owe humanity their protection, and let it be the first step in us¡ª¡±


    ¡°Thirty,¡± she said, staring at him through her curls. ¡°Thirty of us have perished due to the drug or the disease they have spread to us. If it was protection they seeked, then it is a handshake they should have requested.¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡± he asked, staring at her. ¡°And how many more of us would you rather see dead?¡±


    ¡°How many more of us have to suffer, just because you wish the humans death?¡± the girl whispered.


    I folded my arms. ¡°Her dad killed millions. She¡¯s just trying to live up to the name.¡± I turned my head to her and said, ¡°But I think you should know that Zeus left him so bloodied that nobody could recognize him.¡±


    ¡°And all for the sake of humanity,¡± the boy said, again coughing, and again shuddering in pain. It took several seconds for him to speak again. Seconds in which his breathing rattled and his frail torso shook. ¡°When I was young, the stories of your fathers is what allowed me to continue fighting. Brothers in battle and blood and victory, and yet here, on this quiet blue planet, I learn that these brothers of legend butchered each other, and all because, in my thinking, one fell in love with humanity, whilst the other resented them for their hidden strength.¡±


    ¡°Humanity, strong?¡± Rhea said scornfully.


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re bleeding right now, and you haven¡¯t even faced their best yet,¡± I said to her.


    She dragged her forearm under her nose, smearing blood across her upper lip and forearm. Glaring, she said, ¡°You let humanity learn the secrets of the stars, and it will begin an age they are not yet prepared for.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s where you all come in,¡± I said. They looked at me, including Caitlyn, as if I had just announced that the Conquest had already started. ¡°Listen, the more I stand here, the more I understand that we¡¯re all in the same degree of screwed. My life¡¯s been pretty shitty in the past few weeks, and no matter how I look at this, it¡¯s just gonna get a lot worse. Now, I could kill you, or leave you down here and pretend I never came across you as I search for whoever has all that technology, or I could save the entire world, and keep you guys alive, because you know what that¡¯ll mean to anyone who the Emperor eventually sends down here to check what¡¯s happening, don¡¯t you?¡± I waited for their answer, but they were seemingly all thinking the same thing, judging by the looks on their faces, some ranging from a hollow distance in their eyes, to anger, to resentment, to an unreadable mask that was right there on my cousin¡¯s face for all to see. ¡°Correct. Humanity isn¡¯t weak, because trust me, I would have cleaned this place up years ago if they weren¡¯t so stubborn, and if they can make you all rot, then they can do it again. And on the other hand, we get all of this shit working, and the Legion will see you as nothing but filthy little deserters who helped the humans protect their planet against what was coming. Either way, it¡¯s a win for me.¡± Finally, Gods.


    ¡°Did you not hear what I said?¡± Rhea spat. ¡°They will be brought by the technology, by what it will do to this planet. You yourself not moments ago argued for it to not be tampered with, and now you change your words?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m changing my words because I¡¯ve got no choice,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s either I keep chasing my own tail, trying to find out information that I can¡¯t get in that city, or I make a decision that¡¯s gonna save countless lives.¡±


    And to hell with what that creature had said about me killing billions. Fuck It and fuck fate.


    That, and I wasn¡¯t going to let Rhea think for a second that I was afraid that the humans would one day not have a use for me anymore, because whenever that day came, it would be the day I died, and the day they erected my statue.


    Let me be the one to make a decision for once. At least it would make my life a little bit easier.


    ¡°What do you say, Rhea?¡± I asked, clapping her back and making her grunt. ¡°Wanna save the world?¡±


    Besides, who said a superhero can¡¯t be two things? Good and bad, right and wrong. To hell with that, because I could save the world by using this technology, and kill these people afterward, or take them as they were, weak and fragile, clinging to life, right to Overseer Two. If he couldn¡¯t turn them, then hey, at least it¡¯ll be an interesting biology lesson on how to kill the unkillable beings that would eventually come down from the sky.


    And at the end of the day, there was no stopping what was coming, but only bracing for it. Caesar knew about this place, and by my guess, his boys had been down here, armed with enough Ambrosia to kill several and weaken almost all of them. He was arming himself for something, with experimental rifles powerful enough to send me halfway across the city, and now pieces of technology that would make Aegis Tech salivate.


    Shit hit the fan even before I was born, and I guessed it was going to be my responsibility to clean it all up.

 Issue #46: Blood and Sweat

    The last time Rhea and I were alone in the dark, she¡¯d nearly killed me, and now years later, I could just have easily paid her back the favor. We work in pairs where we¡¯re from, and are nearly trained from birth to always have each other¡¯s blindspots checked no matter the situation. It¡¯s a way for us to get closer, close enough to know how to fight without having to say much of anything. To my surprise (and I guess to everyone¡¯s), the Emperor had given me a chance. One chance to get this shit right. I could prove that I wasn¡¯t weak, or I could die knowing dad¡¯s bloodline got tainted because of me. Rhea was supposed to be on my left, always there just like our fathers were for each other.


    That went as smoothly as you could imagine. Our first ¡®mission,¡¯ if you could call it that, was simple: there are several creatures scurrying around on this planet, no point explaining what they are, because they¡¯ll be dead soon if you get this right, so go down there and kill three¡ªstrip one for its fur and meat and flesh, and bring back the two others as trophies. Simple, right? Everyone¡¯s done it before. So you¡¯ll have to ask my cousin why she had the idea of trying to gut me and leave me alone in some frigid cave system. Dad had found me, or whatever little he found that hadn¡¯t bled out onto the rocks. Explaining what happened was pointless, because of course Rhea made it back, and the half-breed was dead in the caves. I¡¯d failed, and I¡¯d nearly died, and I had watched my cousin receive applause and cheers because she had come back with three creatures all by herself, draped in the flesh of one, with the two others in her arms. Sometimes I liked to think that Rhea had done me a favor, because it hadn¡¯t taken long for us to run away soon after. Maybe dad felt pity for his weakling of a daughter. Maybe mom convinced him that she couldn¡¯t keep watching over the bundled bony body of bloodied rags she was trying to keep alive.


    I sometimes wondered, when the nights were long, and the crimes were too petty for me to care about, what would have happened if she hadn¡¯t had such a large chip on her shoulder. Maybe I would have stayed there. Maybe Earth would have been our first planetary assignment for the Conquest. In some other life, we were actually friends.


    But now, walking beside her in a darkness so pure it felt choking, I wanted to kill her.


    Several things were stopping me, common sense for one, but her state was another. The girl was beginning to stagger every other step, with a sheen of sweat glistening on her cheeks and trickling down her neck. She reeked of death, of the kind of sickness that started in your lungs and festered deep in your chest, eating you inside out.


    I might not be very much like my people, but if there was one thing I wouldn¡¯t have liked, it would be to kill her when she was in no position to fight me. To at least slam her knuckles into my jaw hard enough to make me bleed. We were trained to love the thrill of the fight. We were taught to embrace death, but only if it came from a species greater than us¡ªunfortunately, in their eyes, there would never be anything else similar to us that wasn¡¯t our Pantheon. The only other way death would be honorable for any of us (myself included, who am I kidding?), would be to die by the hands of one of our own. It was fitting that dad and Titan went out together. Rhea, though, just kept bringing back Dennie¡¯s words to me every time she coughed up blood: don¡¯t give ¡®em the satisfaction. Kill them slowly, and kill them the way superheroes should kill them: with love and kindness and healing my cousin up to the point she¡¯s strong enough to feel how hard and violently my fist would rip right through her fucking guts.


    But at the pace we were going, she would probably cough up her insides before that.


    ¡°Let¡¯s take five,¡± I muttered, stopping. I had to admit that I was sweating, too. We had gone deep, deep into the hole beneath the hexagon, because saving the Earth was one thing, but the only people who knew how to run the machines couldn¡¯t die before that happened. It was a simple job, like jump starting a car, except I was going to be the battery, and the car was probably going to be pieces of ancient machinery scattered all over the planet. After that would come the part I wasn¡¯t looking forward to: siphoning my blood so the medical bays could synthesize some kind of cure to whatever was killing them. What came after that solely depended on if they weren¡¯t lying.


    In short, turn on the machines, save them, and then protect the Earth. But with my luck¡­


    Rhea walked several more steps, then glared over her shoulder at me. ¡°Too exhausted to continue?¡±


    I sat on my haunches and dragged my forearm across my face. ¡°Yeah, Rhea. I¡¯m puking with exhaustion.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± she said, coughing once, twice, pausing, then straightening from how bent they had gotten her. ¡°Swallow your fatigue and stand. Time isn¡¯t on our side, and if you recall, it¡¯s you who wanted to save your planet.¡±


    Why are you so hard-headed about this?


    ¡°In case you forgot, your friends kinda abandoned the Empire. They¡¯re just as keen as I am playing hero¡±


    Rhea tensed. ¡°They are simply fooling you into believing that so you can heal them.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not known for lying, since we¡¯ve got no point.¡± I rested my back against the veiny metal pipes that snaked down the hallway, feeling dirt and metal and materials the humans probably wouldn¡¯t be getting for another few decades. Plants had begun growing down here, sprouting like thin fingers around the metal. ¡°Just sit down for a second and catch your breath. I can hear your lungs wheezing and rattling, and your heart sounds like it¡¯ll stop.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re too proud associating yourself with us on a level of thinking we¡¯re too proud for anything.¡± Rhea shook her head, her eyes narrowing, making her glow sharp. ¡°Funny, considering how much you hate all of us.¡±


    I chewed my tongue and looked her dead in the eyes. ¡°I was around long enough to know exactly how proud you can be. Lying isn¡¯t in your vocab, and yeah, I do hate you, but I¡¯m also proud to have dad¡¯s blood.¡±


    She scoffed, and I smelt blood on her tongue. ¡°You were locked away, what do you know about us?¡±


    ¡°I know, Rhea, that you should probably stop wasting energy arguing with me and sit down.¡±


    ¡°What I need to do is continue my march forward. It¡¯s the only way my body will continue to fight.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna die without some rest, you know.¡±


    Rhea spat saliva next to me. ¡°Stalling to kill me? To tell them all that I collapsed and perished?¡±


    Keep thinking I¡¯m out to kill you, cousin, and I might just grant your wish.


    I tilted my head to look at her, the loose strands of my hair falling free and hanging over my face. ¡°Why are you like this?¡± I asked her quietly. ¡°I don¡¯t want you dead right now, Rhea. I¡¯m not like you. Hell, I would rather wait until you¡¯re strong enough to clench your hands without them shaking before I even try to kill you.¡± I looked away from her, because I didn¡¯t quite like staring at the gaunt, fragile body of someone who I knew was probably powerful enough to change the structure of the entire coastline. ¡°I¡¯m not as cowardly as you, so just sit down and rest, because I also know you¡¯re too proud for me to carry you, and Gods knows I¡¯m also not gonna drag you, too.¡±


    ¡°Cowardly?¡± she whispered, stepping closer.


    Here we go. ¡°Just sit down and rest a little.¡±


    ¡°I am not the one who ran away. I am not the one who left me alone on that planet.¡±


    I sighed quietly. ¡°You think I give a shit that you were alone? You made my life hell. You nearly killed me when I trusted you to take the way. I don¡¯t care if you hate me, or think I¡¯m a coward, but just sit the fuck down.¡±


    ¡°I will not take orders from half-breed filth,¡± she whispered venomously.


    I relaxed my hands and made sure I wasn¡¯t glaring at her, but Gods, I guessed some things just don¡¯t change no matter what. ¡°I could force you, and that would be even more embarrassing than taking orders, Rhea.¡±


    ¡°Your threats don¡¯t phase me,¡± she spat. ¡°They¡¯re as meaningless to me as they were years ago.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a piece of fuckin¡¯ work,¡± I muttered. Slowly standing, I walked past her, not bothering to check if she was keeping up with me or not. Her bare feet slapped against the floor, harsh and methodical at first, but slowly, they became uneven, staggered, and eventually, all I heard behind me was her labored breathing and the shushing sound of feet being dragged along filthy metal. I stopped again, chewing my tongue, waiting for her to scold me for stopping, but then I heard coughing, the very harsh kind of coughing that sounded like supersonic gunshots in this tiny tunnel. I shut my eyes and waited, because when I did try to look over my shoulder, she spat saliva, glared at me, tried to walk forward, but ended up stumbling against the wall again. It was one thing killing them slowly, like D would have wanted, but hearing Rhea, someone who had terrified me, someone who had¡­hell, between you and me, she¡¯d been the one to show me what the sky looked like at night, because that¡¯s a privilege that you earned, not something you deserved¡ªshe¡¯d snuck me out, dragged me along, and Gods, she¡¯d smiled so large you would have thought that she¡¯d pull a muscle in her cheeks. She had shown me the stars because that¡¯s what she had always wanted. The kind of honor and glory and blessings from the Gods that would come by aiding the Empire in its goal.


    Rhea had always wanted the universe, because it¡¯s what she firmly believed could be hers. Ambition didn¡¯t run short in our family, because it was all or nothing. I had once thought she meant freedom, that she was looking for an escape in the stars, just like I was, but no, Rhea had wanted to have all the stars she could find in her hands.


    I¡¯d been too distracted by how much the night sky looked with all those shining stars to listen to how badly she wanted everything to be hers, and eventually, she had stopped waxing lyrical about the Conquest, about how great she would be one day (about how great we would be one day), about how her father would drape his regalia over her shoulders some day and everyone would be there to watch her lead them all into battle. Then she sat there with me, and we kept quiet for nearly an hour before I asked her one question. Just one damned thing.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with just seeing the stars instead of killing them?¡±


    ¡°Do you not want to be great? To carve our names into the stars?¡± she had whispered.


    Just like our fathers have millions of times over, was the silent end to that question.


    I hadn¡¯t answered, because there had been a comet carving through the night sky, illuminating the dark and making my pale skin glow, shine, make it seem as if we were both stars of our own, too, and for once on that damned planet, it was silent. Silent enough for me to hear the songs that space sang to those two little girls alone.


    And now all I could hear was my cousin hacking up pieces of her own lungs behind me.


    Never made it past two quadrants. Never saw true battle. She found her father dead here.


    Now you¡¯re dying, you failed those who believed in you, and you probably can¡¯t even remember what the sun looks like, what it feels like, or what it even tastes like. It would be very easy to take advantage of this situation.


    And I¡¯m guessing a part of myself wanted to make that decision. Another part wanted to rub salt into the wounds and ask her what was wrong, or if she needed any help from the same half-breed strong enough to stand. Instead, I took several steps, paused, and waited for Rhea to stagger past me, sometimes leaning against the wall, sometimes leaving bloody hand prints smeared all over the metal pipes and the wilting flowers. But she walked, and she stumbled, but she never fell. I said nothing, and I guess that was almost as bad as saying something, but what could I say? We shared the same blood, and I knew what was going through her mind. Being weak wasn¡¯t something we were used to, and knocking on death¡¯s door might have been common, but having one foot in her house was something else altogether. But if there was one thing we had in common, it was that we were too proud to ever admit that we ever needed help, so I walked behind my dying cousin, and watched as she didn¡¯t falter once.


    It took a while, but we eventually got to the part of the tunnel that would lead us directly to the core of this place. I had never been taught much about this tech, but I knew that turning one of them on would mean giving the entire system a good kick of energy. Maybe not every hexagon (they had a name, but I¡¯d forgotten it as soon as the skinny guy said it) would turn on immediately, but every bit of machinery still connected to them would get something. As long as I had enough juice inside me, then this would be a piece of cake. Fuel the system, protect the Earth, and be back in time to figure out that Kaiju problem with one less problem to worry about, too.  Like a walk in the park.


    Or time and wear could have left most of the machinery in bad shape, and this would all be for nothing. I had enough faith, and a bit of desperation, to hope that this was going to work. I had been starting to get nervous, with a drier throat and tighter shoulders, and the constant thought of what if circling my mind. I hadn¡¯t doubted myself in a very long time. Long enough now to know that my powers would always be enough. I¡¯d fought Adam and ended up looking like dad, like I¡¯d just had an Awakening all over again. I didn¡¯t know how much of myself was still human, but I guess this was where we found out. We usually had enough power inside us to almost seem otherworldly to the Normals, and most of our tech ran on energy cells that, turns out, had been stolen, right along with a few of the other people here, so what that meant was the half-breed human girl had to act as one for this entire thing to work. Easy. After Cleopatra and her Nectar, I¡¯d been feeling better, flowing with much more power, and finally had the eyes of someone who was from our side of the galaxy. I had enough power inside of me to do this.


    Because I didn¡¯t really have a choice of failing otherwise.


    ¡°It should be below us,¡± Rhea said, her voice raw and hoarse. ¡°Icarus told me the system will be able to operate for several hours, long enough to synthesize a cure.¡± She glanced at me. ¡°Unless you aren¡¯t capable of it.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know half of what I¡¯m capable of,¡± I muttered, swallowing saliva that only nervousness can make bitter. ¡°How did those guys who attacked you get all the way down here, anyway? You just let them in?¡±


    ¡°No, we did not just allow them in,¡± Rhea said, her hand still on the tunnel wall for support. ¡°They incapacitated us and raped this place of its use. It was as if they knew where to look and what exactly they wanted.¡±


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    I paused, then quietly asked, ¡°You think that one of them¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m tolerating you, so do not change my mind.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just saying that¡ª¡±


    ¡°You used to be timid and quiet.¡± Rhea looked me up and down. ¡°Now you talk too much.¡±


    ¡°Listen,¡± I said. ¡°I just want to figure out what happened down here, ¡®cause it¡¯s hard to believe that a bunch of young, unranked Legionnaires could get done over by some human with a drug. Doesn¡¯t make sense to me.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the truth,¡± she said icily.


    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t they just kill all of you? Or take all of you?¡±


    ¡°They took the ones who knew most about the technology,¡± she said, growing frustrated.


    Hand on my hip, I asked, ¡°Then why not just take more, and destroy all of this? Why risk it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Ry¡¯ee,¡± she snapped, then rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. ¡°Gods above, you talk so incessantly it¡¯s given me one of these headaches your species always speaks about. All I know is that they came here with a purpose, and left here with what they wanted. They left us and the rest of the technology here for a reason, or maybe it was an oversight. It wouldn¡¯t be the first stupid decision that your people have ever made.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and what was the first?¡±


    ¡°She stands beside me.¡±


    I laughed dryly. ¡°Stay on Earth any longer and you¡¯re gonna start telling me real jokes, Rhea.¡±


    ¡°I pray to the Gods for any other kind of eternal punishment.¡±


    I looked down below me, and I¡¯ll admit that I had been stalling that little bit more than I probably should have. The telltale signs of something violent happening down this tunnel, and further than that down the gaping hole below me, told enough of a story about what happened. The metal here wasn¡¯t normal. It was built to withstand a lot more than what the humans could ever come up with, no matter the Superhuman grade. Space couldn¡¯t batter and beat it into shape, and I doubted any kind of weapon here could do that either. And yet it was warped, bent, broken and melted into solidified slag heaps all over the floor. Chunks of debris littered the hallway behind us, and there was even more filling the hole below me. Whatever had happened, and whoever had gotten their hands on this tech had a goal in mind, and knowing supervillains, they probably figured that these people wouldn¡¯t be enough of a threat for them to worry about. Or it could be something else. At the end of the day, I was going down there.


    The only reason Rhea came along with me was to talk me through all of it. On Earth, that usually meant moral support, but it was my cousin we were talking about here, so that meant nothing but cold instructions for me.


    ¡°The cooling chamber is found at the bottom,¡± she was saying. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how much of it was damaged, but it¡¯ll still be cold enough to ensure your death if you remain there for too long, no matter your blood. From there, an object that looks similar to a gauntlet will be in the center of the chamber. You¡¯re not metallic, and neither am I what you call a scientist, so the wiring will have to be forgone. You¡¯ll have to wait ten seconds for the chamber to seal before beginning, because if you begin any sooner, it could mean the chamber and its architecture fractures, and there¡¯s no hope for the energy you output to be stored correctly.¡± She stared at me, making sure I understood what she said next. ¡°If you fail, or if the chamber breaks, then your precious little planet will perish like the rest.¡±


    ¡°And how long do I have to stay in the chamber for?¡± I asked her quietly. ¡°Not for several hours, right?¡±


    ¡°Afraid, cousin?¡±


    I snorted, only to throw her off my tail. ¡°I¡¯m just worried the damned thing can¡¯t handle me.¡±


    ¡°You might not trust them, but the best minds of our people built this technology. Have faith.¡±


    I was forced to swallow the lead ball of nerves sitting in my throat. ¡°What if the chamber is already¡ª¡±


    ¡°For your sake, let¡¯s hope otherwise,¡± she said. Then, quieter, as her hand slipped off the wall and clenched by her side, shaking as she did so: ¡°I have already tried. The damage was evident, but¡­if you are incapable¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got no other choice than to be capable, Rhea,¡± I muttered. ¡°Been like that my whole life.¡±


    ¡°Then let¡¯s pray to the Gods that you are more Arkathian than you are human now, cousin.¡±


    For everyone¡¯s sake, let¡¯s hope that.


    I waited half a second before jumping down into the chasm beneath me. I hovered my way down, the chunks of debris and the shattered metal pipes making it a maze of sharp edges and twisting mid-air somersaults to even reach the bottom. Eventually, what little light I had was snuffed by overwhelming darkness. I limited myself on flying, using my body and balance to leap from metal to metal, chunk of concrete to outcrop of rock until the air became frigid and my breaths steamed out from my mouth and nose like smoke. Before I even reached the cooling chamber, my body was already complaining about the cold. My joints began to ache, and my breaths became dry and raw, with each panting inhale of oxygen being a little harsher than the last. Eventually, the debris eased enough for me to squeeze through a gap tight enough to force me to breathe out and force myself through. Then it was free fall, a short tumble through the air until I righted myself and landed in a pool of frigid water. Very, very frigid water. I could feel it soak through my boots and my socks, curl around my toes and threaten to make me freaking yelp.


    I slowly stood from the crouch I had landed in, panting from the bitterness of the cold alone. Fuck. I couldn¡¯t remember the last time I shivered, but I couldn¡¯t stop myself now. Sliding into the rest of my costume felt like slipping into clothes you left outside in the rain, but it would mean a little bit of warmth. Enough to keep me alive and conscious enough to know if this was going to work or not. A quick look around me told me everything I knew about the attack, because they¡¯d gotten down to even here, too. Bullet casings floated on the water around me, and the machinery down here had been melted and warped into the same piles of dull slag that sat in the water like chunks of flesh. They¡¯ve got firepower, I thought, because the only thing I know that the humans have that can do this, that does have this kind of firepower, were a dozen rifles that Ava had been eyeing months ago for herself.


    Whether or not Aegis Tech had gotten their hands on Arkathian weaponry or had just copied it, who knew?


    But it made me sick to think about either option, because neither spelled anything good for me.


    ¡°Have you located the cooling chamber?¡± Rhea asked, her voice an echo far, far away from here.


    ¡°Not yet,¡± I said, forcing my tongue and jaw to act right in this cold. The water sloshing around my feet, I realized, wasn¡¯t actually water, but a kind of pasty substance, like liquid-like plasma. It stuck to my boots and soaked through the tights I wore underneath them, and Gods it sucked. It almost felt like glue, except it also felt like bits of frost were forcing themselves into my bloodstream the longer I stayed here. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go deeper, and maybe find it through the debris down here. It¡¯ll get hard to hear you, so¡­I¡¯ll figure something out. If you hear me banging against some metal twice, then just know I¡¯ve found it. Once, and I¡¯m still looking for the chamber, ok?¡±


    Silence. A very long silence that stopped me from walking. I heard the dull sound of coughing, of coughing that didn¡¯t stop for longer than it should have gone on for, too. I tilted my head to look up, to try and hear if she¡¯d collapsed. We were working against time, but I didn¡¯t know how much time we had. Icarus knew how to work these machines. Knew how to set up the smaller labs and the system that operated throughout it all. If Rhea was out cold, then he wouldn¡¯t be much help either. And, truth be told, I couldn¡¯t read our language, and, well, it wasn¡¯t designed for people like me to solely operate. ¡®Special Breeds¡¯ aren¡¯t meant to be warriors or hunters or servants to the Emperor and his throne, because we¡¯re the brunt, the laborers, the creatures that built their castles and their homes, tilled their fields and fed them if told. Fuck me, if a Legionnaire even caught me down here, they would have probably done my head in against a slag heap for tainting it with my eyes. So if they all died soon¡­


    Earth is as good as fucked.


    ¡°Rhea?¡± I called. The debris groaned above me, showering me in dust and shrapnel. ¡°Are you¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just¡­resting¡­¡± I heard, broken by heavy panting. ¡°Two for I¡¯m okay, and none for death. Hurry.¡±


    And so I hurried, wading through the dark blue plasma that only got higher and higher as I got deeper into the tunnel. Every other minute, the dull beat of a fist banging against metal twice would reach my ears, and I¡¯d respond with one solid knock back. Every so often, I wouldn¡¯t get anything in return, and my heart would stutter until I got something back. Not because I cared about Rhea, but because of what she was worth to the planet at large. The girl I hated most would save a girl I kinda had a crush on (and the world too), and as soon as the system got booted up, then she would be the one to make sure that Icarus got the signal to get things up and running soon.


    But I also found a little bit of comfort in her knocking as the air grew colder, my movements slower, and the plasma got high enough to crest my waist. I forced myself through it, past debris, past what I could only think were body parts of people who had been slaughtered and left to rot down here, except the cold and the plasma wouldn¡¯t give their carcasses that mercy, and would keep them as they are for Gods only know how long. Passed fetid meat and hollow faces. Passed other branching tunnels fat with debris and even more so with plasma and darkness and this growing sense of being alone in a place so painfully cold that it was getting hard to keep moving. Rhea¡¯s knocking kept my mind focused. Kept it here. The tunnel around me groaned and ached, sounding like it would collapse if I got deeper. As if it was warning me of doing this. The thing was, I could turn around at any time.


    I could forget any of this happened. I could lift myself from the plasma that was now at my chest, and choose not to suffer anymore, or even bother with the rest of them. I could protect Earth myself, because what kind of daughter, no less the daughter of a man like Zeus, had to rely on other people for help? I had been doing just fine on me own¡ªfuck, Rylee, keep going¡ªand the last time I checked, I didn¡¯t need Lucas¡ªstay awake, don¡¯t fall, fuck Rylee don¡¯t stumble and fall now¡ªor mom, the SDU or anyone to mentor me, because I¡¯d been doing this shit long enough without anyone being there to guide me! I was good enough¡ªis that the chamber?¡ªto be great, and great enough to have my own statue. Who needed technology from the same people who would¡ªit¡¯s the chamber, Gods, don¡¯t stop moving now; fuck, hold your breath and don¡¯t let the plasma touch your mouth; when was the last time Rhea knocked?¡ªrather rape this planet for everything it was worth rather than help it? Or maybe they would¡ª


    I reached the end of the tunnel, and the entrance to the cooling chamber was sealed shut. The fat metal doors were melted together, fused by the heat of people who didn¡¯t want this place being used ever again, too.


    That¡¯s why they¡¯d left them down here, because they wanted them to suffer. To give them the false hope of knowing that if they fought, if they struggled, they could maybe get to the chamber, past the debris, and fix it all.


    That was a lie, because there was no way to get through this metal. Metal strong enough to make weapons that could cleave anything¡ªspecies or otherwise¡ªclean in two. I could punch all I wanted and get nowhere.


    I figured it didn¡¯t matter¡ªyou¡¯re falling¡ªanyway, because my joints ached¡ªdon¡¯t fall¡ªand my fingers couldn¡¯t curl up into a fist¡ªyou piece of shit¡ªand when they did tighten, my entire arm shook with cold agony.


    My fist rested against the warped metal, a silent tapping echo ringing through the silence. I panted heavily, my head woozy and my body so tense with cold that I could hardly move or breathe or barely think. Thoughts came as fragments, slideshows, and I¡¯d like to say Bianca came to my mind, or dad, or hell, even mom, but I saw nothing. Nothing special. Nothing heroic and nothing motivational, because my fist beat against the metal again, if only that little bit harder, like I was politely knocking against it, and when I pulled it away, my flesh ripped free of my hand and stuck to the door, taking my thoughts with it. I hadn¡¯t heard Rhea in several minutes now, maybe because of the blood rushing past my ears, droning out the quiet, but maybe because my heart was slamming against my chest so loudly that it hurt. Hurt to hear, hurt to feel, and again my fist hit the metal, and again and again, not much harder than the last, but hard enough to hurt me¡ªhard enough, though, to leave the flesh of my knuckles on it.


    Blood soaked through the shredded spandex of my suit, oozing down my arms and dripping down the metal that still clung to my flesh. Each breath a huff of wispy air. Each inhale a rattling whistle of cold oxygen.


    All of it interrupted by the sound of meat and bone and human muscle slamming against metal.


    My fists moved, and my body reacted, but my hair hung low and my eyes drooped shut, but I didn¡¯t stop beating against it, didn¡¯t stop when my own blood splattered against my face and freckled my cheeks and smeared the metal a dark crimson in the dim glow of my eyes. It was almost like watching someone else move, someone else swing their bloodied fists harder and harder against dense metal until it bent, shuddered, and then their mouth was moving, bearing down hard on their teeth, clenching so tightly you¡¯d think they would shatter in the cold. Why keep going? Why bleed for people who don¡¯t care about you? The thoughts came and went, because there wasn¡¯t an answer, but¡­no, there was an answer, and it was right there on her chest, covered in blood and plasma and the filth of countless nights she¡¯d stayed amongst criminals and heroes, trying to do the one thing she thought she was doing: the right thing. The thing that everyone wanted from her. The thing that everyone wanted her to keep being.


    Earth wanted their superhero, and she¡­I¡­was gonna give ¡®em one, cold be damned, and death¡ªthat bitch, I swear¡ªcould fuck off with it, too, because when the door buckled, and the heat from my electricity melted through the heaps of slag sitting in front of me, then I could force my hands into it, deep into the liquified metal and rip and tear and force myself through into the cooling chamber, stumbling, but not falling, until I could stand.


    My body steamed with tendrils curling around my arms, seeping out from my pores. My hands bled. My fingers were bent and crooked. Gods, I wanted to scream, to let the burning fire of agony simmering in my hands to soak into my bones and muscles and deep into my flesh, but I couldn¡¯t yet. The blood flowing from my wounds would heal, but only if I moved my feet and raised my head and stopped my arms from dangling uselessly in front of me right now. The gauntlet Rhea had been talking about was in front of me, just a few steps away in a cavernous room filled with the rotting bodies of skeletons that looked nothing human-like in the slightest. There were other half-breeds down here. What that meant to me was filed away for later, for when I was back on the surface and could ask Rhea why the fuck a dead body was slumped over the gauntlet, it¡¯s hands emulsified in golden metal, and a sizeable chunk of its skull missing. Its brain had been fused with its skull from the sheer heat of the blast that must have ripped through its head, turning the meat black and hard, and making everything reek of rotting lonely death.


    But there wasn¡¯t only one gauntlet in the room¡ªseveral stands, like a speaker¡¯s podium, stood around the chamber. They were all short, broken, meaning the corpses were hunched over them, as if cowering from the dark.


    I was forced to remove the creature, whatever it had been, with its four arms and large muscular back, from the gauntlet, ripping its hands free from the cold metal gripping to its muscle, coming away with nothing but fetid meat and bone, heaving its body against mine, and then laying it in the plasma at my feet. Fuck me, what the hell even are you? With eye sockets filled with solid balls of shrunken orbs, and a mouth hanging loose from the rotting muscle that kept its jaw intact, it was a creature that had probably been right there in those Culling Rooms with me, but had never gotten out. Had never escaped. Had never had anyone in its species, or a scion who cared enough about it to even bother trying to keep it from being used this way. It was hard enough to lay it down gently with hands as fucked as mine. Harder knowing that there was never going to be some kind of fairytale ending for me, or that Rhea and I were ever going to be paired together in the Conquest of Earth or anywhere else. I would have been her mule, her slave, this very creature, and every other creature that floated dead in every other gauntlet station surrounding me, to her. To them. You see, the thing about our species was that we were never entirely the same.


    Like humans, we were all different, and so were our powers.


    It just so happened to be that my kind could pulsate with energy. Use it, harness it, almost charge us up with it, and now, as I stood over the thing floating on the water, missing its arms, its dignity, stripped to nothing but its bones and its flesh and the cloth that still hung around its groin, I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if I was a blessing to the people waiting for me to save them. I could charge their machines, power their system¡ªhell, I could energize an ecosystem of technology around the entire globe for them, and all because none of them could do the same thing. Not only because of how much the Ambrosia had weakened them, but also because they weren¡¯t anything like me.


    I couldn¡¯t help but think one single thing: Is that why Rhea said I should wait for the chamber to shut?


    Did she want me dead and rotting, used as a battery down here, too?


    Some things just didn¡¯t change, because Rhea still wanted me dead.


    And I was really starting to hate getting fucking lied to.

 Issue #47: Hope and Hate

    I found Rhea sitting on the edge of the chasm, slumped over like some corpse left out to dry. Her hands were still clenched tightly by her sides, as if she was still ready for some kind of fight that wasn¡¯t coming. Not now, at least, because a fight between us would just be murder. I stood beside her, dripping with plasma and exhaustion, my own sweat like a slick coat on my skin, oiling the layers between my costume and flesh. I stared at her, looked down at her under the glow of humming golden pipes. Yeah, I had done it. I had stood in that room and let myself run dry until the pipes began to hum and electricity began flowing through everything around me, through the gauntlets and surging into a dormant system. For once, the tunnel was alight, and that had left me needing to climb upward.


    My hands had healed, but the climb had turned them red and blistered and bleeding. Chipped fingernails and broken palms, scabbed skin and scars from being burnt by the feedback of my own electricity when I had put my hands in those gauntlets. It had hurt, and I had screamed, and then when I ran out of breath, I stood there and let my body slump over the gauntlets until the machines took what it needed from me. A part of me felt sick, like I had been touched in a way that left me feeling violated. The gauntlets weren¡¯t a willing give-and-take. No. The system here took the energy right from your bones, your blood, your entire body, and if you had enough, maybe you¡¯d be able to yank your hands out from them and collapse into the plasma, thanking the gods that your hands weren¡¯t entirely burnt black and raw and red. I hadn¡¯t given myself to this place. It had ripped away the electricity from me.


    I hoped it wasn¡¯t permanent, and I hoped that these fuckers hadn¡¯t just stolen what little I had.


    I wasn¡¯t so much tired as I was angry, but it was the kind of anger I swallowed and bottled away, because Rhea was barely conscious enough to argue as I slung her over my shoulder. She was dead weight, and a lot heavier than I thought she would be like this, but it didn¡¯t matter. She needed my help, right? She wouldn¡¯t have wanted me trapped down there with all those dead bodies if she needed me, right? Gods, I was late to the party, but I¡¯m noticing a trend with these kinds of people. They needed a superhero until it was time to tell me why they actually needed me. I wanted to think it was the humans who had done that, killed all those creatures, but it didn¡¯t change the fact that not a single one of ¡®my¡¯ people had told me what was going on down there. Not a single heads up that, hey, the system isn¡¯t gonna ask you for your powers, but we designed it to take them from you. Some transparency would be nice once in a while, you know, but I guess I was overreacting, or underreacting¡ªI don¡¯t really know, and I was too beat to really give a damn right now. Did I still trust what they would all have to say about changing a new leaf?


    About wanting to help humanity after what they¡¯d done to their own people? The humans had come down here and destroyed almost everything, and it was a miracle that the system was still in good enough shape to stay on, but that didn¡¯t sit right with me. Why would they still want to help the humans, when the first time they ever came across a big group of them, they got massacred, enslaved, and infected by a drug that was slowly killing them.


    The worst part is that¡­yeah, I kinda did believe that they had wanted to change the page and try to help out the humans. As I trudged past the debris in the tunnel now illuminated by pale golden light, through empty chambers of broken machinery, and dead bodies now rotting to nothing but fleshy corpses, I figured that the people down here hadn¡¯t had a good time either. I was angry because I hadn¡¯t been told the full story, but that, I realized, must have just been residue from Lucas. The heroes in the comics make it look easy, made it look like trust was a game you played that either meant yes or no or maybe, but here, nobody ever had a reason to tell me the truth, because it was rarely ever anything I wanted to hear. I might be an S-Grade, but I was just their little puppet.


    A reasonable person would probably say it was my fault for making it hard for people to tell me the truth.


    But in response to that: just don¡¯t piss me off with something stupid. The longer I spent down here, though, now looking up at the hexagon far, far above me, and the pale light cascading through the cracks in the metal that shone down on us, I also figured that there just wasn¡¯t any point in being angry at these dying people. I didn¡¯t have the capacity to think as I climbed, having to use the top half of my suit as a sling to keep Rhea on my body as I reached again and again for the next ledge, the next scalding hot metal pipe, until finally, a slew of thick vines reached down from above, wrapping around my waist and dragging us up out of the hole.  I didn¡¯t bother answering Caitlyn¡¯s questions, or looking at Thalia¡ªthe brown-skinned girl¡ªas I bodily handed Rhea over to her. I walked past the pair and sat on a short rock, pushed my hair out of my face and wiped the sweat clinging to my cheeks.


    The others weren¡¯t here, but I heard voices coming from the smaller tunnels in the cavern walls, probably from the medical bays. The tunnels that weren¡¯t brimming with debris were lit with gold, and so was the darkness.


    Thalia took Rhea with her, leaping from the lush cavern floor and into the hexagonal tunnel, vanishing from view. I was left sitting there on that hard rock, my head in my hand, and wondering if I¡¯d just fucked up.


    No going back now, I thought. Gotta make the most of it now, Ry.


    Whatever that would mean for Earth here on out.


    ¡°I suppose asking if you¡¯re alright would be foolish right now,¡± Caitlyn said. ¡°Still, how are you?¡±


    ¡°I might have just saved the world,¡± I muttered. ¡°I¡¯m ecstatic.¡±


    ¡°You feel like you¡¯ve made a mistake.¡±


    I scoffed quietly, still looking at the trampled grass at my feet, at the bullet casings and dried blood that still soaked deep into the thin soil. ¡°For people like me, we make a mistake, and the entire world feels it sooner or later. If this goes to shit, and any of them starts acting like they were raised to, then it¡¯ll be my fault, and the humans won¡¯t really care if I was trying to save them if it means that their entire freaking planet gets taken over soon.¡±


    Caitlyn remained quiet, then said, ¡°I think you¡¯re underestimating humanity. You should know that.¡±


    ¡°Oh, trust me, I¡¯m not. A bunch of humans with guns came here and stole several of them.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said, sitting beside me with a sigh. So close to her, I started seeing the resemblance she shared with Ava, if her sister was bigger, calmer, and less prone to having things go her way by any means necessary. ¡°You, is what I¡¯m talking about. When you came here demanding for my help, I didn¡¯t want anything to do with you because I understood that you could very easily kill these people, and would do so knowing how you act. I have a responsibility to protect them, which you might not understand, but making sure they survive is what anyone in my position would do. Once I realized that we could help each other, me and you, I took a gamble, but¡­frankly, you¡¯re the one that I was worried about most.¡± She turned her head to look at me. ¡°The Daughter of Zeus isn¡¯t known for her kindness and generosity, nor is she known for her patience and helping hand. Yet all this for some information?¡±


    I tensed my jaw and picked off the dried plasma from my hands. ¡°It¡¯s not about the information. It¡¯s about trying to figure out what the Society is doing about the Kaiju Virus, too. Don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve been watching the news down here, but shit¡¯s not been sweet for anyone in the city recently. And I should have known about it earlier, but I was busy playing superhero with people who only ever used me for whatever it is they wanted. So yeah, it¡¯s not just about the information. I save New Olympus, I have a clean slate. I prove that I¡¯m not just some little dog.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I now understand.¡±


    I glanced at her. ¡°Understand what?¡±


    ¡°Your father¡¯s presence still pesters you, even long after his death.¡± She shook her head slowly, and I watched as the grass at her feet began to sprout with tiny flowers. ¡°You want to prove that you¡¯re capable of being what the planet needs, but let me ask you a question that I doubt anyone else has: what do you need, Olympia?¡±


    ¡°What kind of philosophical mumbo jumbo is that?¡± I asked her. ¡°What I need is for you to tell me¡ª¡±


    Caitlyn said, ¡°It¡¯s superficial, what you¡¯re after, that everlasting glory you seek. It doesn¡¯t exist.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the daughter of a supervillain, who are you to tell me otherwise?¡±


    ¡°Are you saying that in the sense I¡¯m a supervillain so my opinion does not matter to a hero like yourself, or just because I¡¯m Lucifer¡¯s daughter, and I would have no idea how to grasp the meaning of glory like you do?¡±


    ¡°Does it really matter?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said, ¡°I suppose it doesn¡¯t, because your feelings are human, and so yes, nearly everyone on the planet has experienced at least some of what you¡¯re going through in some form. Expectations, worries about your future, whether or not you¡¯ve made the correct decision.¡± She raised her hand to stop me. ¡°And yes, I know. Being a superhero does exaggerate a lot of your problems, but at the end of the day, you need to eventually help yourself.¡±


    I rolled my eyes a little. ¡°How could I forget the time when everyone on the planet watched their dad, oh, right, wait a second, they didn¡¯t watch their dad die for the sake of the entire world, because sure, maybe I am a little scared that I made the wrong decision, because one of the people I just helped is Titan¡¯s daughter, so how about¡ª¡± The only reason I stopped talking was because of how she was looking at me, her head tilted, and her heavy locs draped over her face, slightly obscuring my view of her expression. It wasn¡¯t patronizing, so much as it felt like the way mom used to look at me when I was explaining something she already knew, but was willing to hear me out. I already knew what she was going to say before she even said it, and that bittered my mouth just that little bit more.


    ¡°Everyone watched your father die,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s true, but he was also their protector, their friend, their boss and the reason some of them woke up every morning. Only you know what he meant to you, just the same as how everyone else has had their feelings about it. I had the chance to meet him several times, and you know what was most fascinating about your father?¡± I wasn¡¯t gonna speak anyway, but I figured she paused to let the words settle between us before continuing. ¡°I watched him kill my father¡¯s subordinates without so much as a break in his sentences, and yet whenever he saw me, he would do this¡­thing, I suppose you can call it, of complimenting me.¡±


    Oh, now this is fucking priceless. Please, please tell me more!


    ¡°I should probably go check on the others.¡±


    ¡°And I hated it,¡± she said, just as I stood up. ¡°He would sometimes gift me candy and ice cream, and I would assume that he poisoned it, or that he wanted information from me, but he would simply pat my shoulder, tell me to have a good day and greet my mother for him, and he would leave. My father loathed it, told me that I should never take anything for free, especially from the hands of a man like him, but when he eventually died¡­it hurt, and that¡¯s what surprised me most. The skies were empty, the streets were quiet, and all I had were wrappers in my pocket to show what Zeus meant to the daughter of a man who had shaken his hand out of necessity for his own survival.¡±


    ¡°You know,¡± I said, trying to keep my voice level. ¡°Everyone has a story about my dad, and that¡¯s great, I¡¯m really happy he gave you sweets and reaffirmed you, but I get it, alright? I get what you¡¯re trying to say, and he was just such a swell guy, but I¡¯m not like him, and helping people that way isn¡¯t what I do. I save the world¡ª¡±


    ¡°And when are you going to save yourself?¡± Caitlyn asked me. She wasn¡¯t looking at me, but at the flowers she made curl around her fingers, at the petals she plucked from the bud. ¡°When will you shed the fear of the constant nightmare you let yourself wallow in? That day undoubtedly changed you, hurt you, and I might sound brash, but I was never taught to be soft handed. But¡­people possess the capacity to change, and what you did here today will change them, too. You can masquerade your reasons for wanting to help them as much as you want as means to an end. You can say you want to save the world and those you love, and healing your people is just a bi-product of all of it, but truth be told, Rylee, you¡¯ve known from the start about the Kaiju, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    I had made it two steps away before freezing. ¡°What¡¯re you talking about?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re stalling,¡± she said, her voice soft¡ªmaybe to keep it between us, maybe to make sure the cavern wouldn¡¯t carry her voice. ¡°I had Daisy go and check the surface and the sewers attached to this labyrinth for any signs of the kind of Kaiju that might even frighten the likes of you, and what she found is terrifying, yes, but it¡¯s also something you know all about. Why come all the way here for some information, when the creature you seek has been searching for you? When you know that all it would have taken is staying in New Olympus for it?¡±


    I turned to face her, my voice catching in my throat. ¡°I¡¯m not running away from anything. I came because I needed your help and information, which I¡¯m still waiting for, by the way, and what¡¯s this about it being here?¡±


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    ¡°Not here,¡± she said. ¡°But close enough for it to know that you¡¯re here as well.¡±


    For a second, it felt like I¡¯d been impaled as my stomach dropped and my heart skipped a beat. I walked closer to Caitlyn, dropping my voice so only she could hear me. ¡°How long have I got before it comes for me?¡±


    She glanced upward. ¡°For a being so powerful, your entire life has been nothing but fear.¡± Caitlyn let the petals sitting on her palm fall to her feet, where they dissolved into the grass. ¡°You can sense it, right? Feel it in the pit of your stomach, this sense of unease. It isn¡¯t worrying about the right or wrong decision you¡¯ve made today, but the knowledge of it being here, too. I knew what your father was capable of, and I also know that you¡¯re beginning to get to that stage, too. The only reason you came down here was because, in some twisted way, all you wanted was for this Kaiju to come for you in a place nobody else will be around to see anything happen. If you perish, you die alone, and the world won¡¯t have to watch Zeus¡¯ daughter fail. But if you win, then you live knowing you¡¯ve bested even God at his own game of attempting to kill you. For a girl who wants to be like her father, the darkness tends to be your friend a lot more than it ever was his. It¡¯s almost as if you¡¯re ashamed that you¡¯re his daughter, is it not?¡±


    My eyes narrowed. ¡°You talk a lot of bullshit, just like your sister. Unless you can survive getting split in two, then I suggest you keep your mouth shut. I saved these people because I¡¯m saving the planet. As soon as¡ª¡±


    Caitlyn shook her head and stood up, squeezing my shoulder. ¡°Thank you for your aid. You¡¯re a good superhero, Olympia, but you would be an even greater one if you allowed yourself the chance to be Rylee Addams.¡±


    That felt like a slap to the face. ¡°How the hell do you know¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh, please,¡± she said, walking away. ¡°Who doesn¡¯t?¡±


    I grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t walk off on me after sprouting all of that,¡± I said. ¡°The Kaiju, how long have I got before it comes here? And no, it¡¯s not because I¡¯m worried about those people.¡±


    ¡°It can be both, you know,¡± she said plainly. ¡°Fear for them as well as for yourself.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not afraid,¡± I said, maybe with a little bit too much of an edge in my voice. ¡°I just need to prepare.¡±


    ¡°Mmm,¡± she hummed. ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with fear. It can sometimes be the best of any too, if you know how to use it at a time when you need it most. To answer your question: you need not worry, you¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°You expect me to take your word on that? What if you want me dead because you¡¯re done with me?¡±


    ¡°Your trust issues are quite concerning.¡±


    ¡°Bite me.¡±


    An inkling of a smile flirted with the corner of her mouth. ¡°I have no reason for you to die. If anything, if you did die, it would pose a problem for a lot of people, and I¡¯m currently attempting to aid a lot of people, too.¡±


    ¡°So¡­you¡¯re gonna protect me from this Kaiju, or what¡¯s happening here?¡±


    She shrugged one shoulder. ¡°I am capable, but I understand my limits. You, on the other hand, don¡¯t. Whether you survive this encounter or not is completely up to how much you¡¯re willing to die for other people.¡±


    ¡°Other people?¡± I asked. ¡°If I¡¯m killing this thing, it¡¯s because it¡¯s killed so many already.¡±


    And it also nearly killed me, too, I thought, but she didn¡¯t need to know that.


    ¡°Rylee,¡± she said gently, now smiling thinly. ¡°You often have roundabout ways of saying the same thing again and again. Earth may not love you fully, but you do, and a lot more than you like to admit. If you have the strength in you to save people you hate, then you have the capacity to be strong enough to save the world.¡±


    It took me a second before I realized where I¡¯d heard those words before. ¡°Zeus Almighty, issue one.¡±


    Gods, I¡¯d never hated a smile and a sly wink so much before in my entire life.


    The medical bays down here were almost like something you¡¯d see in a normal hospital wing, except for the slightly shattered see-through screens displaying heart rates and medical statuses. They were almost all confined to one large chamber, with cylinder-like tubes acting as beds filling up entire rooms, with most of them empty, and some of them still splattered with long ago dried blood. Getting into the medical chambers alone was a bit of a hassle, with the tight and twisting corridors, sudden blocked hallways, and slag-covered exits meaning it took a lot longer than I would have liked getting to the others. By the time we even got there, the heavy set metal doors stood in place, not wanting to open for me (like I said, half-breeds aren¡¯t meant to touch certain things), and we had to wait for one of them to get up and call to the system, telling it to grant access to the chamber for both Caitlyn and I.


    ¡°Seems a little bit of a hassle to keep doing that,¡± I muttered, as the doors sealed shut behind me.


    Icarus, the skinnier boy, was hunched over and sitting on the edge of his medical cylinder. A snaking cord was attached to the base of their necks from behind, and even if most of them were out cold, it meant that Thalia was still awake, still sitting on her bed and occasionally glancing at a wheezing Rhea. ¡°It¡¯s no problem,¡± he said, his voice still rattling in his throat. ¡°I don¡¯t mind having to get up if it means we¡¯re getting another chance at life.¡±


    ¡°What are these things, anyway?¡± I said. ¡°Like some kind of hospital bed?¡±


    He tilted his head, then nodded. ¡°I guess that would be the equivalent, but once the screens are closed over them, they are able to regenerate lost muscle fibre, heal open wounds, perform surgeries¡­their capabilities are almost endless, but most of those actions also require a lot of clearance that we don¡¯t have, and energy we lack.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sorry about that,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure to carry more half-dead half-breeds with me next time.¡±


    He stilled, stiffening even more than before. ¡°Ah,¡± he said. ¡°Yes, the Cooling Chamber. It wasn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother,¡± I said, waving my hand as I folded my arms. ¡°The humans killed them, anyway. Maybe it was a good thing putting them out of their misery.¡± Doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re good, though. ¡°So how long is this gonna take for you guys to heal and get the rest of the machines out there working? I know you almost kicked it, but I¡¯ve done my end of the deal, and now it¡¯s your turn, too. And I don¡¯t think I can wait for very long down here either.¡±


    ¡°You wish to leave so quickly? Why?¡± Thalia asked.


    ¡°A superhero has to do superhero things all over the place.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Can¡¯t stay here forever.¡±


    And sure, maybe that gods-forsaken Kaiju was coming here as well and I didn¡¯t want them dealing with it in this state, because dead people aren¡¯t very good at turning on machines and saving the world. I was still sick to my stomach with dread, knowing it was getting closer and closer, forcing itself through these endless tunnels, on my scent and shuddering and shaking and vomiting up its own organs in disgusting glee as it neared me. It was Caitlyn who glanced at me, and it was her quick look that made me stop digging my fingernails into my bicep.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± came the gravelly words from the larger boy. He was lying on his side, facing away.


    ¡°Not long,¡± Icarus said. ¡°But as it stands, these machines are acting as secondary temporary bodies. They¡¯ll ease our pain and make sure we don¡¯t decay, but it¡¯s only slowing our deaths. We can¡¯t survive for long like this.¡±


    ¡°In short, and from what I understand,¡± Caitlyn said. ¡°They require a sample of your blood.¡±


    Icarus must have seen the shift of mood on my face, because he quickly added: ¡°We learnt that it¡¯s not just the drug or chemical you claim that¡¯s affecting us this way. We were already weakened before any of this took place, and at first we hypothesized that the teleportation here drained us of our abilities and strength, but our bodies began to ache and our minds began to blur.¡± He slowly stood up, despite what the girl in the bed next to him was telling him to do, which was not to chance passing out and knocking his skull against the pod. He had a screen in his hands, one I couldn¡¯t read anyway, but one he chose to show me. ¡°On the right, that¡¯s the decay of one of my cells that was taken and preserved before we arrived.¡± He swiped. ¡°This, however, is what it looks like once we arrived here, and this was long before anything was introduced to my bloodstream by the humans who came.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t understand the scribbled annotations he had taken down around the tiny cells, but the decay chewing away at the cells was gruesomely clear in my hands. In some ways, it looked like cancer was eating it. A slow rotting decay that was taking one cell after the other, meticulous, slow, deadly, and hungering for more.


    And in some ways, it kinda looked like the vials of my blackening blood Frankie had shown me.


    ¡°The blood samples of all Unranked Legionnaires are taken before leaving Arkath,¡± the smaller girl said, resting on her elbow. ¡°It¡¯s¨Cno offense, as you say¡ªdone to maintain and ensure that we¡¯re still pure-blooded.¡±


    ¡°And just in case we encounter any foreign environments or creatures that affect us, it gets logged, and that data then gets sent back home.¡± Icarus set down the screen, sitting beside it with a hand firmly on the side of the pod to keep his balance. ¡°From there, samples are created, cures are made, and thus, we can prepare for anything.¡±


    My brow furrowed. ¡°I thought we could, you know, adapt to anything.¡±


    ¡°Which is true,¡± Icarus said. ¡°But having Legionnaires adapt to foreign environments even before they have been introduced to it means that the Conquest can continue without hesitation of sickness and diseases.¡±


    Yeah, that still doesn¡¯t make a whole lot of sense.


    ¡°But we¡¯ve been here for years, maybe hundreds or thousands if what the humans tell is right,¡± I said. ¡°And you¡¯re telling me that not a single cure to whatever¡¯s happening to you guys ¡®cause of Earth was ever sent back?¡±


    Silence from all of them, because the answer had dawned on them first a long time ago.


    Dad had something to do with that, and if nothing had been left back on that planet, then several others had probably done something, too. Is that why they hadn¡¯t come here yet? Because they knew something would happen if they did? Gods, that just made a lot more sense to me now. I had wondered why there weren¡¯t any Legionnaires down here, why not a single ranking officer was here, either. These guys had been sent down here, not because they probably wanted to, but because they¡¯d been forced to. Holy shit, I thought. Whether they knew it or not, these guys were the skeleton crew. The ones who were supposed to die, to get sick, so that everyone else on their way wouldn¡¯t have to bother with any of it. But that thought just left me looking at one person in particular.


    ¡°Your father,¡± Rhea wheezed, turning her head very, very slowly to face me, ¡°killed us all.¡±


    ¡°The Emperor probably did that first,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°He sent us,¡± she said, still wheezing, still panting as she sat up, ¡°because we¡¯re capable.¡±


    ¡°He sent you down here to die so he can use your blood to strengthen the others. You¡¯re a sacrifice.¡±


    ¡°Icarus,¡± Rhea spat. He turned quickly, as if given an order. ¡°I¡¯m not taking the blood from a half-breed, no less one like her. Caitlyn¡¯s blood would work just fine. There¡¯s no point in wasting time with my cousin right now.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re dying, and I saved you, and you¡¯re still being difficult?¡±


    ¡°I saw the look on your face,¡± she said, glaring. ¡°You would never let your blood be taken.¡±


    It had been stolen before, so she was right about that.


    The bigger guy, still facing away from us all, quietly said, ¡°If she wanted us dead, she would not have turned the darkness so bright for us. She would have left us here to rot and die.¡± He turned his head to look at me, the jagged fleshy scars on his back twisting. ¡°You are no Legionnaire, but you wear your father¡¯s crest, and your father was the reason I lived several times over when I shouldn¡¯t have. He is the reason both Thalia and I survived the Kelnak Divide, and the reason we can sit here and look you in the eyes. Whatever your judgment of us, fine. Who am I to talk but a slave of war?¡± He turned back around, facing away. ¡°But if the grass below us on the cavern floor is rumored to cover the entirety of your planet, Ry¡¯ee, then it would be an honor to walk through fields of it.¡±


    Silence prevailed for a very long time, and when I glanced at Thalia, she looked away, because Rhea was still behind her, still close enough to hear the hand that slowly rose and rapped two fingers just over her heart.


    It was a simple gesture, but one that meant loyalty. Where you go, I¡¯ll go, ¡®cause I know that even if death came for both of us, it wouldn¡¯t get so much as a chance in hell to make me think we could not survive. Our language was a little different, smooth like honey one moment, bitter like a throat full of hot gasoline the next. But there were also gestures, movements, things that meant nothing to a human, but almost everything to us, because our bodies were all we really had for some of us. Thalia, for one, had probably been bred for war and nothing else. Her people were kind of like the humans, if only bigger, not smarter, but built for war and born on a planet that made the deepest pits of any Alternate Realm look like a walk through a candy store. She was loyalty, she was power, and most importantly, for a fact, she had seen more war and death and chaos than Rhea probably had.


    So, going by that thinking, there was a ranking here, and Rhea was almost bottom rung.


    She¡¯s just got a mouth and a reputation.


    I sighed a little, then came to a conclusion that would have made Ceaser salivate.


    ¡°Fine,¡± I said to Icarus. ¡°You need my blood, right?¡±


    He nodded slowly. ¡°Your body has had nearly two decades to beat any human illnesses.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re sure it¡¯s gonna heal you and not kill you?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a chance, yes, that it might kill us.¡±


    ¡°Listen, if there¡¯s another way¡ª¡±


    ¡°There are other ways, other methods,¡± Rhea said, sweat glistening on her face. ¡°We must¡ª¡±


    ¡°Speak out of turn, Rhea, and you¡¯ll be bedridden soon,¡± the larger boy said. Man, was a better word to use, because he must¡¯ve been just slightly older than me. ¡°As of now, she outranks you, so give her time first.¡±


    ¡°Outranks me?¡± she said shrilly. ¡°On what grounds do you¡ª¡±


    ¡°Rhea,¡± Thalia said softly. She faltered. ¡°She has saved us, and she has cared for us, and now she will grant us new life with her own blood. I may not be full-blooded, but I also understand that, if she were, you would have again been punished for speaking out of turn. On my planet, she would have received Gnar¡¯s Blessings tenfold. You, however,¡±¡ªand now Thalia¡¯s voice softened, and Rhea¡¯s shoulders relaxed just a little¡ª¡°would be executed.¡±


    Rhea looked at me, and every sick, vile little thought stewing in her mind didn¡¯t pass her lips.


    I couldn¡¯t help but smile, because that¡¯s what heroes did when they were being heroic, right?


    ¡°Alright,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s make this quick. Don¡¯t want you guys dying on false hope.¡±

 Issue #48 Trusting Rylee

    I can smell it. The thought almost came out of nowhere, but the stench of rot didn¡¯t. I¡¯ll admit, my trust in Caitlyn had slowly been building over the past however long I¡¯d been down here, but the story she spun about the Kaiju getting closer hadn¡¯t fully settled into my mind yet. Not until the bittersweet scent of it struck me in the face like a fist. I had paused suddenly, and because I was walking amongst the rest of them, they¡¯d bumped into me and asked  what was wrong. Now, I like to think of myself as a reasonable person. Someone trying to look out for the little guy.


    Back in high school, I¡¯d bump into someone to make sure a discus didn¡¯t clatter them in the head. I¡¯d trip someone up accidentally and catch them, just so the football some jock threw wouldn¡¯t smack into their lunch tray.


    Sure, maybe I hadn¡¯t done things the right way, but I did care about getting shit done, no matter how I did it. I had been distracted when they had all been staring at me, distracted because of the thoughts that rushed into my mind, wondering how the hell I was supposed to get these guys to safety if that thing found us down here so soon. If I even could get them all to safety. A part of me almost figured: why bother? Fight the damned thing first and they can all figure themselves out, but I had been that confident the first time too, and I¡¯d only survived because Lucas had been watching me get mauled, there to save me, save the day, and spare my life. He must have been down here at some point in time¡ªat least, that¡¯s what I guessed¡ªbut he wasn¡¯t watching me now, and he wasn¡¯t gonna save me. I was on my own in this. Caitlyn wasn¡¯t going to fight and win. None of them could survive against it like this.


    It was all in my hands, the responsibility of saving each of their lives. Kind of a shame that I almost lost mine the last time I saw it. Again, that stench slithered down my throat like the burning taste of bitter alcohol. Again I wondered what I should tell them. They waited, staring at me with hollow eyes and gaunt, pale faces. For some reason, I couldn¡¯t really face the fact and tell them that I couldn¡¯t. That I just couldn¡¯t beat something here on Earth. Maybe it was my pride getting in the way of reason, or maybe it was because I was kinda starting to like having people rely on me, have their hopes land squarely on me, that I didn¡¯t really wanna disappoint any of them. I didn¡¯t know why I chose the words that sat on my tongue. Didn¡¯t have a clue why my throat clenched when I was about to speak, or why my tongue decided to twist and turn and change what my brain had to say at the last second.


    It wasn¡¯t because I was afraid. That¡¯s what I told myself, and that¡¯s what I believed. When you¡¯ve got lives to save, you can¡¯t really afford to be afraid, because fear leads to mistakes, and mistakes mean the world loses out, especially right now if any of these people die. I¡¯d never been perfect, but I was gonna have to try to be it now.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± I said, shrugging. ¡°Just thought I heard a voice in my head. It¡¯s been a thing lately.¡±


    Hey, I might not be the greatest superhero on Earth right now, but at least I wasn¡¯t a liar.


    ¡°Is it human?¡± the smaller girl asked me, as we continued walking, ¡°to hear voices in your heads?¡±


    ¡°Hard to explain,¡± I muttered. ¡°I don¡¯t really know why I hear them myself. Something to do with selling my soul to some pissy old creature so a witch can help me escape hell.¡± I waved my hand. ¡°It was a whole thing.¡±


    ¡°Your exploits,¡± the larger boy said, coughing once, and letting a goblet of blood and saliva splatter on his hand¡ªI almost reached out to steady him, but he waved me away, ¡°are strange, but many for someone so young.¡±


    ¡°She lies,¡± Rhea muttered, leaning against Thalia. ¡°These are the words of a coward feigning glory.¡±


    ¡°By all means, cousin,¡± I said. ¡°Tell us all about your many and glorious adventures through space.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be walking in silence for several minutes if she does,¡± the smaller girl whispered. Rhea may have glared over her shoulder at her, but in return, there was just the smallest sound of snickering from the others, too.


    Where we were going now was probably the one room that was going to change everything. I was a sucker for historic pictures. The first time Cleopatra was photographed with her sword of light on her shoulder? Epic. Dad¡¯s first sighting as he hovered over New Olympus, this figure with a billowing cape just in front of the sun and clear blue sky? It had burned itself deep into my mind. I¡¯d always wondered when my moment would be, because I did like the vanity a little, and I¡¯d wanted to ask them all the same question when those pictures were taken: ¡°Did you know?¡± Did they know that it would be the one that would stick? The picture that would carve itself into history books so thoroughly that it was probably the only part of any exam I got nearly full marks on? And right now, even if there weren¡¯t any photographers here, I could feel something in my gut, in my bones, there bubbling in my blood.


    The chamber we were heading to could probably fix any and all of humanity¡¯s sicknesses in seconds.


    And right now, we were going to use it to come up with a cure to Ambrosia, and whatever else was making them all so weak and hollow and gaunt with disease. They would all be, soon enough, fully capable Arkathians.


    Was my stomach in knots? Well, how couldn¡¯t it be? My head hadn¡¯t been filled with so many bad memories ever since I woke up from my nightmares in Hank¡¯s farmhouse. But they were trusting me to keep them safe, to help them recover and not rot to nothing down here in the dark. It¡¯s getting closer, Ry. I swallowed past the stench that was slowly gluing itself to my tongue. If they trusted me, I should give them the benefit of the doubt.


    Trust was getting really hard to come by in my emptying pockets. I was spent, maybe in debt.


    But what else does a superhero do apart from keep trying?


    Even if it feels like we¡¯re never getting anywhere sometimes.


    ¡°Ry¡¯ee,¡± Icarus said, grabbing my attention. They were all staring. ¡°Are you having second thoughts?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said, not pausing so they didn¡¯t think otherwise. ¡°How long did you say this is gonna take?¡±


    ¡°It can take¡­what was the word¡­an¡­ah, yes, an hour.¡± Icarus gestured toward the sealed door in front of all of us, almost like a containment zone. A lot like the humans, there was cautionary writing in yellow plastered all over the door and walls that I couldn¡¯t really read all that well. With the system down here still feeding off my electricity, the lights blinked and flickered, dousing us in darkness every other second. I hated having to think about what it would be like fighting the Kaiju in the pitch black. ¡°If all goes smoothly, we would be cured within two Earth hourly periods. Some longer than others, and with the level of power, maybe just a little longer as well.¡±


    ¡°So we¡¯re talking roughly an hour and a half to cook up a cure?¡± I asked him.


    He nodded, smiling weakly. ¡°And then we can pay the humans back a favor.¡±


    Music to my freakin¡¯ ears, I thought, waving him forward. Icarus led the way, and the door groaned, shuddered, almost sounded like it didn¡¯t really feel like opening any time soon as it slid aside. I glanced behind me, at the dark tunnel and the endless series of medical bays that housed the dead bodies of the ones who¡¯d rotted away to carcasses. Each of them was sealed, and funnily enough, these were the only rooms a half-breed could open with just a touch, because more often than not, it was my kind that had to drag out the dead or pile them up in these very rooms if things ever went south. I would have found that kinda funny any other day, how even genetically I was meant for cleaning duty with the dead, but not with the smell in the air, or the very faint vibrations shaking the tunnels we had gotten deeper and deeper inside. Caitlyn had stayed behind, telling the others she¡¯d rather plan.


    In truth, she¡¯d stayed back to act as a warning. She¡¯d given me a tiny seed and told me that if it sprouted and blossomed into a glowing flower, then the Kaiju was here, and suddenly, being in a cramped, dingy, dark tunnel full of dead bodies stinking up the place and filling the air with rot wasn¡¯t half as good of an idea as it had been.


    ¡°Your problems collided with mine, and now we both have a responsibility to fix it,¡± she had said.


    And, like always with a Rivera, their problem always ended up being something I had to solve.


    At least Caitlyn wanted to save the world.


    The chamber we entered wasn¡¯t half as large as you¡¯d think it would be. The equivalent down here on Earth would probably be something like the size of a very big classroom, but in place of desks and a chalkboard, they had long black capsules along both sides of the walls. Each of them was open. Each of them could fit a person. The air here smelt stale and unmoved, and a thin layer of dust got kicked up into the air as the lights flickered into life. Not strong enough to make the shadows leave, but just enough make the skeletons slumped in some of the pods shine with dull reflections. A direct translation, I guess, would be to call this place a miracle chamber.


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    It really would have to be, looking at the rotting state of some of these corpses.


    Andreas, the largest of them, carefully scooped the remains of a body still draped in tattered medical clothing, and set them aside in a neat pile. Even with what little strength he had, little enough to leave him clutching onto the pod so he could stand back up, he took his time making sure their family¡¯s crest didn¡¯t touch the floor, but was instead carefully placed just underneath the person¡¯s skull. With a grunt, he then sat in the now empty pod, his face gaunt, his expression hollow, and this look in his eyes that said so much without him saying anything.


    Maybe he didn¡¯t fully trust me, or maybe it was because so many others of us had already died in these pods thinking they¡¯d be saved but nothing happened. Now they were just a pile of bones. No glorious burial, no honor from the Emperor given to their bloodline, and their families would never really know what happened to them. I was desensitized to death a very long time ago, especially when it happened to bad people who did bad things for stupid reasons, but all I could really do was stand there and watch as, despite their frail bodies, they all did the same until every single pod was clear. Rhea was the only one having a hard time, and I thought she¡¯d retaliate when I tried to help her, and was expecting something along the lines of: you¡¯re worsening their death by having your half-breed hands touching their remains. Instead, my cousin remained silent¡ªweak, but silent.


    Her¡¯s was the pod furthest away from the entrance, several clear from the others¡¯ pods too.


    In some sense, we were alone in the corner of the room, shrouded in shadows and loose pipes dangling through the ceiling. There¡¯d been battle here, too, or maybe decay and time had just made this place look so old.


    ¡°What¡¯re you doing?¡± she said hoarsely, her voice quiet. ¡°You¡¯re arranging the bones wrong.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not like anyone on that planet allowed me to watch you guys do this, you know.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± she hissed, then coughed loud enough to make me flinch. She¡¯s starting to smell like the Kaiju. ¡°Just watch what I¡¯m doing, we¡¯ll be done with this faster if you learn. The feet, the shins, the thighs, and then the pelvis.¡± She arranged them, then waited, looking at me expectantly. I followed her orders with the dead person in the pod closest to hers, kneeling just like she did, too, and feeling a little like the kids who stacked rocks, trying to see who could get theirs to be highest before they came crashing down. Except now we were whispering between ourselves, and the brittle brown bones of the dead were our rocks. Next came the arms on either side, and then the ribcage¡ªthe spine in the middle of it, and the skull finally resting above it all. If I could find the crest, she said, then I should put it underneath their ribcage close to where their heart would be. And then it was time to pray.


    I felt like we were wasting time doing this, and all the others were finished¡ªbut there¡¯s a way of doing things on that planet, even if it quite literally is life and death, that needed to be dealt with first. So I watched Rhea mumble and mutter in a language that had long since died in my throat, sitting there on my knees in front of a pile of bones that I¡¯d never known, that would probably hate my guts for being this close to them if they were alive.


    But I had the sense of mind not to interrupt her, and the sense of it, too, to help her stand back up.


    The others were already sitting in their pods, waiting. Rhea was heavy against me, like a sack of dead weight just waiting to be dropped. She sat with a groan, laying down immediately on the hard cushioned tube. I really had nothing else to say to her, watching as she shut her eyes and shivered, sweat gleaming on her brow and her fingers clenched tightly in a fist over her stomach. There was a weird lump in my throat as I stood there beside her, because I didn¡¯t know what else I was meant to do. Rhea didn¡¯t want my comfort or whatever I could say to encourage her to stay alive and kicking. Hell, a part of me was sure that her hate for me would keep her going.


    Before I could leave and ask Icarus what came next, she grabbed my hand. Her grip was weak, like a little kid who just lost their mom at a store. ¡°My father,¡± she whispered, so quietly she was hardly moving her lips.


    ¡°What about him?¡± I asked.


    ¡°And yours,¡± she said, finally opening her eyes. My breaths caught in my throat, stopping short of a gasp, because her eyes weren¡¯t entirely golden anymore, but a flickering flash of light that revealed the green underneath.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, crouching so she wouldn¡¯t have to look up. ¡°What about them, Rhea? I need to start¡ª¡±


    ¡°How were they buried?¡±


    I paused in silence for a moment, not sure of what to say. Looking at her like this, with blood trickling down her nose and cresting her parted lips¡­Gods, Rhea, why¡¯d you have to be such an asshole when we were kids?


    ¡°Like kings,¡± I lied. ¡°Well, your dad was in private. He had his believers, you know. Candlelight vigils, shrines, things like that all over the city. A lot of people hated seeing them, and you can¡¯t blame them either.¡±


    ¡°Your father got the burial he always wanted,¡± she murmured, turning to look up at the ceiling. ¡°He died a hero whilst my own died like a dog to you humans. But I suppose I do understand it now, the hatred, the anger, but I¡­I would like to ask you a favor.¡± Those last few words came out as a choke. She shut her eyes, then whispered in my ear. My jaw tensed, and I nearly wanted to tell her she was ridiculous, maybe stupid, but she¡¯d already passed out. Her grip had loosened, and now her hand hung above mine, twitching, shaking, just like her weakening heart.


    I stood, thought, I can only do that if you¡¯re alive to see it, and turned toward Icarus. ¡°What¡¯s next?¡±


    ¡°The panel behind you,¡± he said, pointing just over my shoulder to an array of screens and what would kind of be a keyboard and a scattering of so many buttons it was hard to keep track of. ¡°It controls the operations of these pods and monitors each of their¡­um¡­¡± He pinched his nose, and I saw his eyes flicker. ¡°Sorry, I briefly lost my way of thinking. There is an override code to bypass the main security system, and from then onward, you¡¯ll have to allow a sample of your blood to be taken by the machine. Once that¡¯s concluded, you¡¯ll simply have to allow it to do what it has to do.¡± He smiled at me, blood shining on his teeth in the damp light. ¡°That¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°Sounds simple, but I can¡¯t really read and write that well if you forgot.¡±


    He helped me out through a very long and arduous trial and error of which buttons I should press on which keyboard and at which time. It was like learning how to spell my name all over again, but this time, the sounds of the hearts beating around me were slowing, and the stench of death slowly making its way toward us was growing worse. The seed still hadn¡¯t floured yet, and each grating click of the keys was like a second wasted. I had to force myself to memorize the passcode of ten keys, make sure I got them right for when they were all in relative cryo sleep in the pods. The screens were on, the darkness was tinted blue, and the words scrolling along the curved glass made almost no sense to me, but all I had to remember was the sequence, the numbers, the letters, the symbols, and how exactly I¡¯ll be giving them a sample of my blood for the system to analyze and make better for each of them.


    No pressure, Ry. You¡¯ve got this. Like memorizing your email password.


    Except if I forgot it, there wasn¡¯t anyone who could help me remember.


    But I smiled and gave them all a thumbs up. In return, Icarus finally rested; Andreas nodded slightly before lying back down; Thalia glanced at Rhea once more, back at me, then shut her eyes, choosing to lie on her side so she was facing my cousin; the smaller girl¡ªAster, was her name, I think¡ªgave me a thumbs up too before she lowered her arm and settled into the pod. I turned back around and waited for the sound of each pod to seal shut.


    Then I stood motionless for a moment, feeling as the tunnel shuddered and as the air began to reek.


    The seed was still a seed, so I opened my eyes and breathed slowly out of my mouth. Here goes. I took my time punching in the override code, and got it right the second time of asking. Like the tiny gadget nurses used to take your blood sugar, a small needle broke free from a syringe not too far from me from the side of the panel. Icarus had said it wouldn¡¯t be too painful, but letting that thing stab my bicep and drink a test tube¡¯s worth of my blood left me feeling woozy and a little sick. When the syringe slipped out of me, its barbed end came loose with a bit of my flesh and a touch of what I hoped to the gods wasn¡¯t a bit of my muscle. It retracted into the array of wires and buttons and keys, the bulged screens flashed for several moments, and I briefly thought it hadn¡¯t worked at first.


    It didn¡¯t take long for other similar needles to slide into everyone else¡¯s arms, injecting them with an odd clear fluid the machine had synthesized into capsules no bigger than a few water bottles. I guess that¡¯s it then.


    This thing that looked like water, this thing I peered at and tapped against, could cure us of Ambrosia. Damn near make us invulnerable, too. A part of me wanted to stay here, maybe get inside one of the pods and do the same, maybe to come up with a cure for my own problems, too, as I wondered why the hell dad hadn¡¯t thought of using this thing to protect himself against Lucas and Ambrosia. But maybe it was because Lucas had tricked him into thinking he wasn¡¯t a threat, either. At the end of the day, dad was dad, and Shrike was just a human in a dark costume playing pretend. He was never a real threat to him, but Ambrosia definitely was, and so was whoever had come up with it, anyway. But if this system could cure almost anything on the planet, defeat any virus and create any cure for anytone, antibodies to everything the universe had to throw its way, then wouldn''t that also mean¡­


    I felt something press against my thigh, something small and stone-like.


    My heart skipped a beat, and my throat instantly dried as I rose. Now on my feet, I felt every single vibration go through the soles of my boots and into my body, like the resonating heartbeat of some hellish creature trapped deep in the Earth. I slid my hand into my suit and pulled out the seed, cupping it gently on my palm.


    I saw the light slipping through the gaps between my fingers before I saw the flower blossoming on my hand. I stood there frozen, barely breathing, with a countdown still showing roughly an hour and thirty blinking on the screens to my right, and the screeching, echoing, bellowing sounds of something distant and devilish and monstrous only getting nearer by the second. I stared at the plant, at its curling petals and soft golden light, and tried to swallow my fear, my agony, because there were people relying on me down here as much as they were up there on the surface, too. Right then, as I gently placed the glowing flower on the control panel and zipped up my suit, the tiny little lightning bolt Cleopatra had given me hadn¡¯t felt so cold pressing against my chest before.


    Almost like the tip of an executioner¡¯s blade grazing my throat, biting harder into my skin as I walked down the dark tunnel, leaving the miracle chamber, with my boots echoing through the empty, rotting silence.


    Round two, you ugly bastard, I thought. Now I¡¯ve actually got shit to lose and everything to gain.

 Issue #49: Killing Olympia I

    ¡°If you want to kill your enemies, Rylee, you¡¯re going to have to hit them harder than that.¡±.


    I hate seeing him this way, so angry that I can barely muster the strength to look at him or his face or the shadow he casts over me. His eyes are like the painfully harsh glare of the blood-colored sun, but there¡¯s a shadow hanging over us because of the cliff looming over me, and that makes them worse. Half of him is painted in a deep black. I think he wants to get closer to me and grab me and force me onto my feet again. But he stopped doing that days ago. Maybe because I would just collapse again from the pain and exhaustion, maybe because he didn¡¯t want to keep having to touch his bloody, soil-covered half-breed of a daughter for any longer than he really has to.


    I have to get up on my own now, even if that means passing out and waking up to see him still standing there in his crisp and clean regalia, his cape snapping in the toxically bitter wind, his posture unmoved by the screaming sandstorms, as if this is his way of showing me that he cares, because he hasn¡¯t left, see? He¡¯s right there, waiting and watching like a parent should. And maybe I do pass out again. I don¡¯t know. Can¡¯t remember. Head is a little fuzzy and I puked on myself after getting hit in my tummy again. It hurts, but he doesn¡¯t care. Get up, try again. Push yourself onto your hands and knees, and try again. Gods¡¯ sake, Rylee, stand up and try again.


    It¡¯s all we¡¯ve been doing the entire day, and there¡¯s nothing left for my body to give me.


    So I lie there in the red soil, panting, wheezing, watching him shake his head.


    And this time, when I wake up again, he isn¡¯t there. Nobody is.


    I stood on the edge of the tunnel, the tips of my boots hundreds of feet higher than the rubble-strewn bottom of the cavern below me. My muscles were tense, and my hands hadn¡¯t been this tight in years. I swallowed past the ball of doubt that was trying to lodge itself into my throat, and spat terribly bitter saliva onto the filthy floor next to me.


    I had expected to see the Kaiju right there and then on the grass, maybe with Caitlyn fighting it, or the thing trying to tear a hole through the single tunnel that led down here. Nothing. The silence was so painfully loud I swore I could hear the heartbeats of the rest of them echoing in the silence. Or maybe that was just mine, so loud and slow that it kinda sounded like a war drum in the deathly silence. I stepped over the edge and fell through the air, then flew through the cavern, scanning and searching, and finding absolutely nothing. Where is she? A better question would be: where the hell is the damn Kaiju? It should have come raging in here, shrieking for my blood.


    A part of me almost wanted it to spring up on me right then and there, because a monster suddenly going silent could almost mean nothing and everything. I couldn¡¯t even smell it anymore, either. It¡¯s like it just vanished.


    But maybe Caitlyn had done me a favor, and wasn¡¯t going to let the damned thing anywhere near the tech or the dying Arkathians, and had stopped it somewhere in the sewers instead. I took my chances, shooting through the claustrophobic tunnel and then stairwell that spiraled upward into moisture-riddled air and moss-covered walls. My heart beat faster against my chest. My body felt hotter underneath my suit. The light from the cavern behind me slowly dimmed, and soon enough, I was in the pitch dark, slicing through the air like a bullet would a human body.


    And then it was up those same set of stairs that I had found my cousin, and out into the rank sewer.


    I found Caitlyn standing on the very edge of the platform above the river, right beside Daisy. I flew toward them and paused, panting a little, looking around and straining to listen to anything and everything. Daisy was oddly silent, and parts of her bubbled and frothed, then simmered down and flowed. The trash she used to cover herself, and the bits she had on her head as some hat, or across her chest as some torn shit, were the parts of her that shook and shimmered, gushed a little water, then suddenly sputtered and solidified again. The girl was like a geyser waiting to explode, smelling like sulfur and hot oil and what would probably be what rats stunk like being boiled.


    ¡°Where¡ª¡±


    ¡°That man is not dead,¡± Caitlyn whispered. I followed her eyes.


    She was staring across the river of sludge and waste at the pale gray corpse of a man caught in broken railway lines, his arm snagged and skewed right through the meat of his bicep in a short ladder, and his neck snapped at an impossibly disgusting angle so that his pale, empty eyes could stare directly at us. They didn¡¯t blink or move or so much as twitch at my light, but they shone like dim lights in the pits of a skull that was covered by tight pale flesh glued firmly to his scalp. His wide open mouth hung loose, as if his jaw had been shattered open.


    I can¡¯t fucking believe it, I thought, feeling a pit growing wider in my gut. Is that Cadaver?


    ¡°Shit,¡± I whispered, then turned to Daisy. ¡°You found him here? Like this?¡±


    She shook her head, then fiddled with her watery fingers. ¡°He spoke.¡±


    The pit inside me nearly consumed me whole. ¡°Fuck, he¡¯s playing an act. Drown him and toss him.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± she said, her voice shaky, almost ethereal. ¡°I¡­I cannot touch him.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I asked. ¡°Why the hell not? This guy¡¯s bad freaking news. He¡¯s almost unkillable.¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± a voice said¡ªa voice that I had wished I would never, ever have to hear again. It echoed through the sewers, disgusting like the vile black sludge he vomited. ¡°I¡¯m a lot more unkillable than last time, T.¡±


    I didn¡¯t waste time playing superhero chit-chat with him, and slammed my shoulder so hard into his body that I left a crater in the wall opposite where Caitlyn was standing. The tunnel shuddered. Rubble fell and skittered along the floor. Dust filled my mouth and nose, and I coughed and sputtered as I flew backward. I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand, and watched as the dust cleared and the sewer water receded back into the river. Fuck me.


    Cadaver was slouched over himself, only kept up because of the writhing, barbed, purple tentacle that stuck out of his chest like a hand. Another slid free from a gash in his stomach cavity, angling his head at me and making sure his broken neck had the chance to snap itself back into place, vertebrae by vertebrae. He was smiling that garish smile at me, with those black teeth and that bubbling black saliva that reeked of bad memories. I watched, heart in my throat, backing away in the air as he slowly rose to his bare feet¡ªwatched as his gut moved just underneath his pale papery skin, like a hive of snakes had burrowed deep into his innards. I wanted to puke, maybe from the smell, maybe because this was the last godsdamned thing I would ever want happening right now, but I didn¡¯t have time to really think this through. He was here. He was alive. He was all kinds of freaking deadly.


    And now he was also some kind of vessel for that gods-forsaken Kaiju. Fuck you, fate. Fuck you.


    ¡°Wait!¡± he said, putting his hands up before I could plant my fist through his skull, and hopefully right through the tunnel wall, New Olympus, and half the fucking planet. ¡°I came here because I was sent here, alright?¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter,¡± I said, but I doubt he had the time to hear it, because I was in his face before¡ª


    A tentacle lashed out from his mouth, latched onto my fist, and threw me so fucking hard against the ceiling I thought I¡¯d snapped my back when sheer agony exploded through my entire body. I fell like a sack, and it was a bed of vines that caught me. The tentacle slipped back down his throat, and then Cadaver wiped his mouth.


    ¡°Now that you¡¯re seated and listening,¡± he continued, as I wiped blood from my mouth, and tried very hard to get the fuzz out of my head. He¡¯s stronger, a lot stronger. Gods, now what, Ry? ¡°I come here with great news!¡± He grinned wider, and I only felt sicker. If it wasn¡¯t for Caitlyn whispering for me to wait, I would have tried again. ¡°My employer knows that you¡¯re here, and he also knows that you really can¡¯t do anything to save your friends down there, so he¡¯s given you an alternative: you give them up to me, and I let you¡ªyes you, Olympia¡ªgo home.¡± Cadaver paused, tilted his head, hummed, then snapped his fingers. ¡°Oh, right! And we won¡¯t kill Bianca Ross.¡±


    I stood slowly. ¡°You¡¯re Caesar''s dog, right?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d kinda say vessel, it¡¯s a whole thing between me and¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna skin you if you touch her, and I¡¯m gonna make you wish you could die if you speak again.¡±


    ¡°Ooo,¡± he said, hands on his hips. ¡°He was right, that name really does get your blood flowing.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck did I just say about you talking?¡± I snarled.


    ¡°Olympia,¡± Caitlyn said, stepping forward on a platform of vines. She looked at him. ¡°It¡¯s an attractive offer made by a foolish man, so I¡¯m going to decline, and you¡¯re going to leave. Nobody here is yours to take.¡±


    The tunnel rumbled again, and this time, I was sure it was because of her.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± he asked, his voice leveling out. Drying. ¡°I¡¯m warning you, if you think you can hurt me, then you should see what I did to the witch. Oh, man, she¡¯d tell you about it if she ever finds where I left her head.¡±


    For whatever reason, that struck me in the stomach, freezing me for a moment. Then I shook my head. He¡¯s lying. He¡¯d lie to get under my skin, lie to make me angry, but what made me believe that Bianca was in trouble? Simple. It was him saying it, and a dead man talking about someone I loved was an omen just as good as any black cat. Witchling would be fine. She was fine. Gods, you damned supervillain, you better not have died to someone like Cadaver. I had first dibs on her head, and this freaking guy said he just killed her. I wasn¡¯t going to believe that until I saw her body with my own eyes, and even then, knowing Witchling, I¡¯d have to search every hovel and hole and back alley in Lower Olympus to make sure she wasn¡¯t hiding somewhere. All Cadaver had was a mouth on him.


    And the information that Caesar knew I was here with them, too. He wants to let me go, just like that?


    I had been fighting someone I¡¯d never even seen before for months, and now he wanted me to walk?


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked him. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t you bother capturing me, since you¡¯ve got that thing inside you.¡±


    ¡°Any more of that and I¡¯ll blush,¡± he said. ¡°But I can¡¯t tell you that. Not ¡®cause I want to, but because he never really tells me anything.¡± He shrugged, and a tentacle slithered just over his ribcage. ¡°Sorry about that.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re just going to listen to every order Caesar gives you?¡± Caitlyn asked. ¡°Don¡¯t you have¡ª¡±


    I lunged and had Caitlyn in my arms the next second, skidding to a stop a few meters away from the shard of bone shrapnel that erupted right where she had been standing. Cadaver lowered his arm, and the hole in his palm slowly shut again, like a mouth that had just been fed. He shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t care about what you¡¯ve got to say about freewill, and little less about you. You¡¯ve got a bounty on your head, you know, you both do¡ªnot you, water girl, I don¡¯t know what the fuck you are¡ªbut I also don¡¯t have any use for Uncle Sam¡¯s almight dollar.¡± He stepped forward. I dropped Caitlyn and tensed, now right in front of the tunnel. ¡°So, what¡¯s it gonna be, Tempest?¡±


    ¡°An hour,¡± I whispered to Caitlyn. ¡°That¡¯s how long they¡¯ve got left until they¡¯ll be entirely healed.¡±


    ¡°What can get through the chamber?¡± she asked quietly.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± I muttered. ¡°Not unless he¡¯s Arkathian, or until it opens on its own again in an hour.¡±


    She tensed her jaw. ¡°Would you manage to beat him in that time?¡±


    A better question is wondering if I can survive the next minute.


    ¡°All I need you to do is seal up the entrance and make sure¡ª¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re asking me to strategically run away, then I decline.¡± Caitlyn dusted herself off, then shed her heavy black coat. She rolled up her sleeves, then flexed her fingers, tensing the muscle along her forearms. ¡°In case you forgot, Olympia, I also have my own objectives, hopes, dreams, and whatever else you want to call it riding on the murder of the man standing opposite us. I¡¯ve hidden away too long, and now a man who took my father¡¯s keep comes down here demanding I give this up as well?¡± Caitlyn spat on the ground next to her. ¡°Fucking idiotic.¡±


    I think I liked this Rivera a lot more, and I couldn¡¯t fault her one bit as I stood beside her.


    Cadaver nodded slowly, his eyes flicking from me to Caitlyn, and then to the tunnel behind us. There wasn¡¯t any file on this guy, and I hadn¡¯t thought about him ever since Knuckles put him through the business end of a sewer system and into the ocean. But he was a creature of objectives, of things he needed to get done. The dog Casear sent to do his dirty work to make sure things get done by any means necessary. He had been put in that sewer tunnel months ago to slow us down before, maybe because Caesar wanted to learn something about me long before I even knew he was watching. Cadaver would go directly for the tunnel, and if we got in his way, then he¡¯d fight us.


    It¡¯s a good thing that¡¯s exactly what I wanted. Just slow him down. What he wanted from the rest didn¡¯t cross my mind as I lowered, making wind gust around my boots, just enough to make the rocks skitter in circles.


    Cadaver moved like a man who hadn¡¯t been dead at any point in his life, almost flickering from view when I shot toward him, my fist sailing over his head as he ducked, stepped back, and planted his knuckles so hard into my side I vomited when I stumbled to a stop. I turned, spinning around. His foot smashed into the side of my head. Blood erupted in my mouth, and before I could react, a tentacle erupted from his chest and wrapped around my throat, snatching the air right out of my lungs and throat and fuck me, get off of me! I dug my fingers into the meat, ripping and tearing, using my flight to buck away, but Cadaver clutched onto the tentacle, grinned, and yanked me close enough to smack his forehead into my nose. Hot liquid iron. Couldn¡¯t breathe. My head pounded a storm.


    Then the wall behind him crumbled, and vines of thorns shot right through his body. Maybe it was the surprise, maybe it was the, fuck, I don¡¯t know, and it didn¡¯t matter¡ªhe let go of me, and I fell, rolled, and flew away as I watched the thorns suddenly, and very quickly, explode like barbed thorns, ripping him apart and showering his surroundings¡ªmyself included¡ªin a geyser of blood and gore and body parts. Cadaver stood motionless, blood bubbling in his mouth and dripping down his chin as he clawed at the spines of thorns and the barbs that had torn chunks of his rotting body clean away from him. He reeked, his insides were vile, and Gods, now I know what I was smelling, because his body wasn¡¯t there to keep him all together, and suddenly, the hive of tentacles was a heaving mass of squelching flesh and bone and hooked barbs squirming around Cadaver, like a snake coiling around prey.


    His blood began to burn away at the barbs, and his harsh laughter cut through my mind. ¡°Ha!¡± he yelled, stumbling free as the vines burned and he forced slabs of his torso back into place. ¡°No, really, let¡¯s just skip the part where you get surprised, and the part where you come up with a plan, and then act surprised again when that doesn¡¯t work too, because incase you were wondering¡±¡ªhe looked dead at me, just as a tongue of the meaty, fleshy tentacle broke free from the side of his skull¡ª¡°I was made to be something that you just can¡¯t kill, and you? Oh, you should have killed me the first day we met, Olympia, and I¡¯ll give you credit, ¡®cause you actually did, too.¡±


    I backed away, watching as the tentacle slathered half his face in slime, as it picked at his flesh and fed on it. ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡± The tunnel was darker. The golden flowers were rotting because of his blood and his stench, getting chewed away by nothing at all except his essence. By the aura of death around him.


    Cadaver stopped in front of me, just beneath me, right there atop a slab of rubble. ¡°You don¡¯t remember me, and I don¡¯t really think you would, either. But I remember you. Three years ago, near the washdog slums area.¡±


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Am I supposed to remember a damned name?¡± I said, trying to sound tough, angry, but Gods, I wanted him to talk more, waste more time, but these were seconds in the whole hour I needed right now. Caitlyn, unless she had something else up her sleeve, wasn¡¯t going to be any good now. This was down to me and him and the Kaiju.


    But for once, Cadaver wasn¡¯t smiling, and that was almost just as bad as seeing those black teeth.


    ¡°No,¡± he whispered, twitching. Then he stilled. ¡°No, you¡¯re right. You wouldn¡¯t. Why bother?¡± He shrugged, and now his smile came back, but it was different. Colder. Emptier. Dead. ¡°But when Bianca dies, you¡¯ll start remembering names, and you¡¯ll come and find me, and you¡¯ll try to kill me, but I cannot die. Will not die.¡± He lashed out, this time without the tentacles. Bear meat and bone smacked into my chest as he punched me square, knocking the wind out of me as we both slammed hard into the opposing wall. He was on top of me. I tried to force him off, tried to get my legs underneath him or my fist through his stomach¡ªit was like God himself had his fist pressing me into the rock. ¡°And I thought for a very, very long time that my hate for you would keep me alive, that all those experiments and those tests and¡ªand¡ªand those things, the things they burned into my body would be enough to keep me focused on wanting to do nothing but see you dead!¡± He was shrieking, shrieking so loud it hurt to hear. Then his fist met my face. My head smacked rock. I tasted blood, and he recoiled, as if he didn¡¯t know what just happened as I spat at him. Cadaver clamped his hands on my shoulders and brought himself closer, so close that I could smell nothing except his hot, vile breath and the tongue he slid along my throat, my cheek, and stopped at my ear so he could whisper, ¡°Then I realized I don¡¯t hate you. No. All I want is to strip you down naked and hang your body off your father¡¯s statue with your own costume so you can bleed right there on the same hill he died.¡±


    Cadaver swallowed saliva, his face garish in the darkness covering us. I wanted to be sick, to puke.


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± I said quietly, grunting to turn my hands toward his thighs. ¡°Someone you loved died.¡±


    His eyes narrowed. He remained silent. I could hear the Kaiju gurgling for my blood inside him.


    With blood on my teeth, I smiled at him for a change.


    ¡°Fate really does find the pieces of shit that deserve her most, doesn¡¯t she?¡±


    I stared into those hollow eyes, at a face that moved with those sick, tiny little worms crawling just underneath the skin of his cheeks. His fingernails dug deeper into my shoulder, so deep that his fingernails bit through my costume. ¡°I can see it,¡± he whispered, his voice almost child-like. ¡°You think I want to kill you, right?¡±


    ¡°Pick a number and join the fucking cue.¡±


    Cadaver¡¯s back bulged, and a slew of tentacles gushed out from his spine and draped onto the floor and the rubble, spilling his black blood down his ribs and dripping onto my chest, making burning through my symbol, and deeper than that and right onto my skin. Fuck, fuck it hurts. I ground my teeth, balled my fists. My heart leaped into my throat as they slithered along the stones, grazed my legs and sides, their barbs nicking my costume and cutting right through it like a hot knife to flesh. ¡°Oh, God, no. I don¡¯t want to see you die. I want to see you suffer.¡±


    ¡°I thought,¡± I said through my teeth, ¡°that Caesar gave you an order to let me go.¡±


    ¡°He said you could leave, but never in what state.¡±


    Before the tentacle closest to my hand could grab me, I dug my fingernails into it, so deep that it spat blood onto my hand, and then I sent a shockwave of golden electricity coursing through it. It was desperate, it was quick, and all too suddenly, Cadaver shrieked and lunged away. I coughed and stood up, getting onto one knee, watching as the tentacle I had charged full with lightning erupted in boils and tumors and spat hot puss onto the floor as it tried to heal itself. But it couldn¡¯t. The tiny worms that gushed from every single one of his pores rushed to coil around the gash my fingers had made, but as soon as they touched it, they fell to the floor at his feet. Dead.


    I glanced at my hand, at the electricity that leaped between my fingers. I made a fist, then stared at him.


    Right, I thought. Lucas isn¡¯t here to fuck with my powers anymore.


    The realization was just as disgustingly delicious as the haunting, angered, raging look on Cadaver¡¯s face. Hit hard, hit fast, and for the Gods¡¯ sake, put the bastard right through hell if you have to¡ªjust fucking kill him. Titan had never been one to talk to me nicely, or at all, but if there was one thing he put in my head, it was that nobody¡ªnot dad, not the emperor, anyone¡ªwas going to make me think twice about dying. I would like to say I smiled, to say that I had a moment when I realized that yeah, that look in those eyes, the flicker of dread that crossed his face, made my stomach uncoil and my electricity flow brighter. But none of them did. It was the fact that Cadaver took one step backward, hesitated, then ran directly toward the tunnel so fast that he was a gust and a blur.


    He should have been the one to kill me the first time we met. The Kaiju should have, too.


    Because the humans had a saying, something about whatever doesn¡¯t kill you.


    It¡¯s a little different for us, because whatever doesn¡¯t kill us doesn¡¯t have a chance in hell.


    I rocketed toward him, blowing apart the platform and showering Caitlyn and Daisy in dust and wind and debris as I got closer and closer to Cadaver, so close that I saw the moment when he glanced just over his shoulder, looked me dead in the eyes, and then I saw the golden fist reflected in those hollow black orbs. Saw when my knuckles ate into his cheek, then his jaw, warping them so terribly that the bone shattered underneath my fist as it went right through his brain and messily out the other side, like the exit wound of a sniper round. Gore vomited onto the wall, splattering onto the rocks. His body took two steps, then slumped over. I wasn¡¯t finished. I knew he was just pretending, getting ready to quip. I spat, then walked to his body, watched as the tentacles squirming out from the stump of his head began to shriek, to move, to squelch and rage and whirl around like whips snapping at the air. Wait. I stopped, and heard something happening around him. Around my feet, somewhere in the rubble¡­


    I leaped backward, somersaulting through the air and bounding off my hands as bony shrapnel shot through the air, pinging off stone and metal and fuck, catching me across the face and arm, along my side, and I swore, grabbing Caitlyn and shielding her as they peppered, one after the other, into my back like blow darts. Then they suddenly stopped. I could barely move myself off Caitlyn. I panted hard, breathed even harder as I sat up. My entire back felt warm, felt like I couldn¡¯t move it faster. Fuck, he¡¯s gonna make them expand. Some had just cut me, but most of them were in my back, in the muscle, feeling like sharp, tiny little fingers digging around my spine for something they could attach themselves to. Panic erupted through me as I shot into the air, then did what I could.


    And sent electricity coursing through my body, like I¡¯d just touched a billion volt socket.


    The tunnel burned bright as the shadows leapt away, vanishing as the electricity enveloped me. Just as quickly as it started, it vanished. I hit the floor like a sack of bricks, panting, but my back didn¡¯t feel warm any more, and the things moving inside me weren¡¯t there anymore. At least, I prayed and prayed hard they weren¡¯t.


    Caitlyn swore, blinking furiously as her eyes teared up. ¡°What the¡ª¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I said, still panting, and now looking at Cadaver¡¯s charred body. At the stump of his torso and the smoke and blackened meat that was still sizzling and popping and spitting fats onto the floor. ¡°Emergency call.¡±


    She slowly got up, clutching her head. ¡°You¡¯ve already dealt with him? I thought¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I said, standing, stumbling my way toward the mound of flesh. ¡°I¡¯m not done yet.¡±


    I grabbed what was probably his shoulder, if his flesh hadn¡¯t fused together.


    I froze. My stomach dropped. I swore and grabbed his other shoulder, ripping him clean in half.


    Nothing fell out of him. Not his organs. Not the hive of tentacles.


    He was empty. A shell. Tough flesh and loose veins and nothing.


    I glanced at the tunnel, at the bloody footprints leading down the stairwell. I didn¡¯t wait for Caitlyn, for her to ask what I had seen¡ªshe would see it, she would know what was going to happen next. I shouted for her to fill the tunnel with plants, whatever she could to slow him down. I shot into the dark, my blood a raging sound in my ears as I screamed down the twisting, dark little corridor. His footsteps got louder. The sounds of squelching muscle and pattering blood closer, stinking like rot and decay and the vileness only a supervillain can reek of filling my nose. Then I saw him, this figure at the very end of the tunnel that shot his blood and his tentacles and the shards of bone he could spare at the vines that shot from wall to wall, making me have to dodge and duck, weave and think at a split second so I wouldn¡¯t have to slow down. What he touched, he burned. What grazed him died with black rot.


    Cadaver reached the end of the tunnel, and was a silhouette in the dim light when I reached him.


    Or I would have, if he didn¡¯t glance over his shoulder at the last second, and I saw this face made from muscle and bone, eyes that had no eyelids, and a jaw that opened when the muscle attaching it to his face tightened. He was smiling, smiling without the flesh on his face to do it. Then something cold wrapped around my leg, something slimy and tough that stopped me dead, almost jerking my fucking leg right out of the socket.


    I slammed into the floor, knocking the wind out of my body. I grabbed the tentacle and filled it with electricity, and then¡­then nothing happened. It shuddered, smoldered, and then I felt its barbs digging into me.


    I watched Cadaver leap into the clearing, and I screamed for Caitlyn to do something.


    But what could she do? The Kaiju, this slimy, foul-smelling shadow digging itself into me would rip her apart and fill her with so much of itself that her stomach would spill open in half the time it took her to blink. I was on my own. Fuck, not again, not like this¡ªI grabbed the thing and dug my fingers into it, and got bony shrapnel sent right through my palms in return. I cursed, cried out, as the thing snapped me around and smacked me into the wall. I could hear Cadaver¡¯s laughter, hear him call out my name, for my blood, for something else I couldn¡¯t make out, and then Bianca. Her name. Her address. Where she went to school and where she worked. And then, knowing I could hear him, knowing very well that my head was filling with pain and anger as more tentacles gushed from the shadows, from places he had shed just a few to stop me, he said Ben¡¯s name. Worse than that, he said, thanks, Shrike.


    Thank you Lucas Freeman for doing the world a favor.


    That was the last I heard of his voice, as the tentacles folded in on themselves, fusing into a mound of organs and bones and flesh that formed a mouth to shriek and cry and fill the dark tunnel with its harrowing bellow.


    Something happened in the pit of my gut. This flush of heat, of emotion, of so many memories of the past year, of the past several months, weeks, days that hadn¡¯t let me breathe. I was powerless to stop the Kaiju from smashing me through the wall, deep through the metal and the wires and the pipes, through concrete and back into its grasp. I screamed when its barbs dug into my skin, into my muscle, and ripped. I swore, I kicked, I tried to charge it full of so much electricity that it would turn into a pulsating purple tumor. Nothing. The heat in my gut got worse, this feeling simmering in my blood only getting hotter. Fuck me, it wasn¡¯t the time to think about Lucas, that first day he had gotten me this costume, when we had spent hours picking out the colors, putting it together, and I had wanted to show the world, show mom and Bianca and everyone at school that hey, look, I was a damned superhero.


    He had told me to take it off and go home, because that night was never gonna be the night.


    It was too soon. Too early. And I¡¯d stolen the costume, shot into the sky, and fucking worn it.


    Because the symbol the Kaiju was tearing clean off my chest was mine. What the fuck did dad ever do to have it on his chest? To earn it? Family crests aren¡¯t made or given, they¡¯re earned, because your heritage meant everything to us. He had stolen it from our family¡¯s crest, hell, not even his family¡¯s crest, because guess what?


    Zeus was the bastard child of the family. The half-breed son that hid amongst them like a virus.


    Afraid to ever tell a single one of them the truth of what he really was.


    He didn¡¯t deserve this symbol any more than I did. And what the hell did a Kaiju, this thing of flesh and meat and screaming humans smashed together to form this godforsaken creature, have any right taking it from me?


    All his life he¡¯d treated me like shit. He¡¯d never prepared me for anything. Humans raised me. My own people didn¡¯t want me anywhere near them, but they wanted him? Fuck me, I only ever wanted to be like him because he was exactly like me! But he¡¯d never seen that. It was never that way. He was better, stronger, he was the one that stood like them, fought like them, shed what his now genocide-riddled species had been and became the same fucking thing that his people had lost against in countless wars. That first night wearing my own costume had been my night. Lucas had hated seeing pictures of me pop up on the news, on social media, with the entire world wondering who the hell was this kid with the lightning and the symbol, and Gods, she looks just like him, yeah?


    I had pretended to grin at that fact for a long time, how people said I reminded him of them.


    I had hated it to my core, hated when all they put on every single broadcast, every single headline, was Zeus¡¯ Daughter this and that and every other fucking thing, because they¡¯d never seen Olympia for just Olympia,


    If they wanted me to be like him, the real him, then fine¡ªlet¡¯s start with this fucking Kaiju.


    It had me with my arms spread out either side, trying and failing to rip me apart. I screamed bloody murder, wrapped my hands around the tentacles snapping away at my flesh, ripping away at my costume, and pulled it toward myself with one jerk. The tentacles came free, gushing blood onto the tunnel floor. I fell, slammed into the ground, landing in a crouch that dented metal. My suit was fucked. Half of it was torn clean off me, and the one arm it still clung to was bloody and filthy, clinging to the tattered golden symbol hanging loosely off my chest. I spat, wiped my hand across my mouth, heard it scream and rage and cry as I stood. I didn¡¯t bother looking up at it.


    I sent myself straight through the thing and out the other side. My skin burned as I was doused in blood that sizzled and hissed in every single one of my open wounds. Then again. And again. And again. Over and over until it was a perforated piece of fleshy meat that snapped a thorny appendage at me, wrapped it tight around my waist, sending pain roaring through my mind as it engulfed me in its folds. I gasped, swallowed blood and gore and what might have been fleshy bits of broken tentacle as it emulsified me in itself. Then darkness. Muted sounds. I couldn¡¯t breathe, so I bit down on my tongue, trying not to let the pain of its blood, painfully hot molasses of its insides dig too much into my body. My hands flickered. Light made its blood boil and simmer, making it shake.


    I did what I had just done, and sent a shockwave of electricity coursing through my entire body.


    A chunk of it exploded, like a puss and blood filled zit vomiting into the open.


    I shot out of the thing, then doubled back, swinging my fist so hard into the mass that still remained that it burst into slabs of meat that littered the hallway. I breathed hard. Sweat and blood¡ªmy own, the creature¡¯s, I couldn¡¯t tell¡ªstung my eyes. I floated above it, breathing through my nose as it tried to put itself back together.


    I raised my hand toward it, and sent an arc of lightning through the tunnel¡ªthrough the metal, through the air, burning it all and making it reek of ozone. When I lowered my hand, it stung. When the shadows returned, the Kaiju was dead. It was a smoldering heap of flesh and bones, of meat and worms that lay black and red below me.


    Then I turned around, and shot out of the tunnel so fast that its opening exploded like the business end of a shotgun, the metal peeling back, and the stairwell leading down toward the ground smashed into tiny little rocks.


    Into the medical tunnels, deeper than that and around corners so fast I almost slammed into the walls.


    And then the miracle chamber, where I found a meaty Cadaver standing in front of the open bay door.


    I didn¡¯t give him a fucking inch.


    I snapped his spine with a foot to the base of his pelvis, smashing him so hard against the computer that he nearly split in two. He slumped to the floor, a puddle of organs and flesh and bloody muscles beneath me. This time, he was real. This time, I grabbed him by the throat and lifted him upward, digging my fingers into his stomach cavity, into the hive of tentacles mingling and frothing and gurgling around his body, trying to grab hold of me.


    Then I paused, because he¡¯d begun laughing. Laughing so hard that it became a shriek.


    He didn¡¯t have to explain why, because there were bodies on the floor around me. Dead bodies. Bits and pieces of meat and bone and organs, and then I dropped him, stumbled backward as I saw the shattered open pods, the innards that spilled over their sides, and the storm of gore that had washed over half the place. I wanted to vomit. I vomited in my mouth, swallowing the harsh bile. Noise rang in my head, a whistling sound that drowned out his laughter. Thalia. Andreas. Icarus. Their pods were filled with blood and tentacles, filled with appendages that reached over the sides with their purple flesh and barbed ends. What did you do? I stepped on his head, anger filling my body, my brain, then I raised my foot and caved in his skull. What the fuck did you do?! I stepped on him again and again, so many times that his hands stopped grabbing for my foot, trying to stop me from showering my leg and the pods and the floor with more of his blood. I threw his body to the ceiling. To the floor. Smashed my fists so hard against it, lacing my fingers and locking my hands together, that he was nothing more than a mangy torso.


    I was covered in blood by the time I stopped wailing on him, and then I screamed, digging my fingernails so deep into my palms that they cut through the flesh. Then silence. A long, dripping, squelching silence that stank like death. I shuddered, my chest convulsed. I struggled to breath without them coming out as shaky gasps of air.


    I forced myself to glance at the end of the chamber, where my cousin¡¯s pod was shattered. Open.


    Blood trickled down the side of her capsule, pooling on the floor.


    With hollow eyes, this deep, emptying hollowness spreading through my chest, I looked down at Cadaver.


    His head was partially back together, at least enough for his jaw to pull into a grin. ¡°Suffering yet?¡±


    I stood, and dragged his meaty, mangled corpse toward the machine. I bent scrap metal around him, impaled him with pieces so large, even if he got free, it would take him days to find where I left the rest of him scattered around the rooms far around the cavern. Tiny, tiny bits of him that I could barely see on my fingers. And then I charged the machine full of electricity, and did Cadaver the favor of not making him stand up from the bent over position he was in (his laughing, cackling mouth forced deep between his legs, kept there by metal that speared right through his chest and into the floor¡ªI shattered his arms and tied them around his back, then used the heat burning the blood clean off my skin to weld together his flesh and the metal, trapping him in a ball of steel), and stabbed him through the skull with the metal appendage that came out of the machine. Then I waited. Standing.


    Not able to look around me, or anywhere near me. Not even at my bruised and bloodied self in the reflection of the machine¡¯s screens. It felt like somewhere else was controlling me. Somewhere else had the reins.


    I was half-naked, hurting, and something stung my eyes and cut through the grime on my cheeks. I swallowed, choked, cleared my throat, and waited for the machine to synthesize a cure for the Kaiju. No point now.


    The world needed saving, right? The humans needed me, right? They would have hated them, right?


    I collapsed, maybe from exhaustion, against the machine, pressing my head against it, and listening to Cadaver groan and mumble, froth at the mouth just beside me. I shut my eyes, and wondered what my life would have been like if I had just gone to graduation instead, because now my chest ached, and I could hardly breath, and the smells, the sounds, the echoing tap-tap-tap of blood dripping onto the floor was like an orchestra getting louder and louder and I just wanted it all to stop for a second, so I clamped my hands over my ears, shut my eyes, squeezed them closed, dug my fingers into the sides of my head and fuck, fuck, fuck, Rylee, what the fuck did you just do?


    I failed them, that¡¯s what I just did, and the humans were going to love me for saving them.


    For finding a cure.


    The machine went silent, and I glanced to my side. A single vial was full of blue liquid.


    But all I could see were the reflection of my golden eyes, and even then, I could hardly see it through the blood I covered it with when I grabbed it from its slot. It weighed nothing, felt like just another glass of water.


    There, I thought to the silence, to the creature that was making the symbol on my chest ache, that I could feel watching me from a space just beyond time and the shadows lurking around me. I saved the world, happy?

 Issue #50: Fresh Start

    I didn¡¯t have much to say to Caitlyn, and the conversation was as silent as the cavern felt. Her first thought was the world and all the tech it was going to miss out on, and for a brief moment, a flash of heat washed over me. Then I sighed and looked away, grunted as I watched her stand still for a moment in the ruins of everything surrounding us.


    There was no reason for either of us to stay here now. I didn¡¯t understand how these machines worked, and Caitlyn¡¯s plan to save the world was bleeding into the same metal that was meant to save humanity. But I couldn¡¯t think about that. Couldn¡¯t think about much, anyway. My body was in ruins, and my costume was as good as done for now. I was missing a sleeve, and the one that was still here clung to my body because of the bloody cuts sticking it to my skin. My symbol was shredded and gone, and so were most of the parts that covered my torso, but I just didn¡¯t care. I did not freaking care. Losing was part of the game, I knew that much. But this was¡­new. I had done the whole hostage thing before and came out with a win. I got all those kids out safely, as well as two villains, too.


    And now I was standing here on this grass, wondering what the hell I did wrong. But that was easy.


    The answer was everything.


    Pitying myself was only gonna take me so far, though, and Caitlyn knew that. She told me that she¡¯d leave, that this place was still valuable, and she¡¯d keep watch over it, but¡­there was nothing left for her here, or even in New Olympus for that matter. Her father was either dead or missing. The Jericho Triad was a memory. Her home was a pile of rubble, or a den for drugs and sex for people who wanted to party in the ruins of an ex-villain¡¯s hideout.


    Her sister was MIA, and when I asked her what she¡¯d do about Ava, she said, ¡°Why bother?¡±


    Not because there was nothing left, I figured, from the tone in her voice. But because Ava was so far below so many other things on the list of her priorities that she would only ever deal with her if they ever crossed paths.


    That almost made two of us. The pit inside my stomach was only growing the longer I was here, my chest getting tighter and my mind filling with sounds and smells I was trying to block out. I needed to get out of here.


    ¡°I have friends,¡± Caitlyn said to me, grabbing my attention, ¡°that might help with some of this.¡±


    I paused before I could fully walk away from her, then turned around. ¡°Are you insane?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re people I can trust,¡± she said softly. ¡°People who won¡¯t know what this machinery really does, or might not understand what it can fully do. But what they can do is make sure that it fulfills some of its purpose.¡±


    I stared at her, weighing my options. I might be tired, exhausted to the bone, but not stupid. ¡°Caitlyn.¡±


    She raised her hands defensively. ¡°If you don¡¯t want me to, fine. But just know that someone else will find this technology sooner or later, and Caesar knows where this place is. With your electricity already powering it¡­¡±


    Then I¡¯m just asking for something bad to happen.


    I groaned silently and massaged my temples, then came to a decision I hoped I wouldn¡¯t regret. ¡°Fine. But on the condition that you don¡¯t leave this place unattended, and you make sure that if any of Caesar¡¯s people come down here, you tell me. I don¡¯t care if you¡¯ve got to send Daisy pouring out of my shower head whilst I¡¯m in there, you tell me, because I¡¯m very tired of him. Very, very tired of him. And I swear if you¡¯re lying to me right now¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got no reason to,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯re in the same position. Slightly powerless, maybe helpless.¡± She sat on a short outcrop of stone jutting out of the ground, wincing as she did. ¡°But not hopeless. We still have that.¡±


    ¡°Who are these friends of yours, anyway?¡± I asked her.


    She smiled tiredly, looking through her locs. ¡°The kind of people who want to see the world get safer.¡±


    New Olympus was deathly quiet, and that¡¯s what struck me as weird the most. As I crawled out of a manhole, reeking of blood and guts and so many other things that I scared off the gang of cats prowling in the alley beside me, I was met with rainfall and silence. Water that fell from the sky like someone had left the shower on, letting it run until the water was cold and the air was crispy. The quiet, though, felt like a full stop. Like the city had finally decided, in its hundreds of years, that it should finally give itself a break from making so much chaotic noise.


    And I stood there in that alleyway for several minutes, leaning against a grimy brick wall, looking out onto a street that was all but empty except for the insides of restaurants, coffee stores and hair salons. Perfectly, painfully normal, like nothing ever happened. A clap of thunder made me flinch and my ears ring, then came the flash of lightning and the burst of white that carved through the sky. That¡¯s when I first saw it, this giant mural above me on the wall. I backed away slightly, stumbling into several trash cans, making them clatter to the ground and roll over.


    I had expected to see something about Olympia, Cleopatra, or Zeus, or any one of the other Olympians.


    Instead, it was a rain-soaked mural of Adam, and he was in costume. Not a suit and tie.


    But in pure white and silver, with a torn cape that billowed past him. It made me pause. Freeze. With his jaw, his eyes, and this look on his face that reeked of arrogance, he looked so much like dad that I wanted to¡­


    I didn¡¯t know, because the rest of the mural was of some creature lying in sloppy mounds of meat behind him. Not a touch of blood on his hands or his chest or his face, and not even the golden symbol on his chest, either.


    As if him just being here in this city meant that the monster had disintegrated into gore all by itself.


    I could barely hold myself upright in the falling rain. It glued my hair to my face and my tattered costume to my shaking frame. I clutched onto the vial, onto this warm liquid that sloshed and slightly glowed. I stared at the grafiti, at this paint work that lorded over me, his eyes not even looking down, but upward, as if I wasn¡¯t worth looking at, as if I wasn¡¯t there to look at in the first place, just like all the rest of the murals that the humans had put up of dad. Never looking ahead or down, but upward, because that¡¯s what it means to be a hero. You keep looking upward, because I¡¯m sure as all hell that¡¯s where you¡¯ll find your hope. Fuck sake, I thought, staggering onto the street, walked a little hunched past stores and restaurants filled with people who silenced when I passed by them.


    I heard a bell jingle behind me, and then rushing footsteps splashing through puddles. And not only one pair of feet, and not only one voice filling the formerly silent street.. ¡°Wait!¡± a voice cried. ¡°Are you¡­No way.¡±


    ¡°I thought she was dead.¡±


    ¡°So now she shows up?¡±


    I glanced over my shoulder, and hey, look at that, I¡¯d gotten them out into the freezing cold. Some of them with umbrellas, and more than enough of them with their phones out. I stared at them, looked at each of them, and I might have been flattered if I wasn¡¯t clinging with every fiber of my being to consciousness. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s me,¡± I said tiredly, waving my hand around. ¡°Olympia, in the flesh. Sorry I look like shit. Nearly died again, but I doubt¡ª¡±


    A woman stepped out of the crowd, holding a large black umbrella over her. She was young, maybe just a few years older than me, with rosy cheeks and large circular glasses. Her breaths were mist as they poured out of her mouth, as if she was panting just being next to me. I straightened a little as she held out the umbrella toward me.


    Does she¡­does she want me to take it?


    ¡°I¡­¡± I shook my head and gently pushed her hand away, making sure she wasn¡¯t dousing herself in rain.


    ¡°Are you going to be okay?¡± she asked me, stepping forward.


    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I be?¡± I said, half-smiling. ¡°I¡¯m Olympia.¡±


    She stared at me, they all did, for several silent seconds, as several phones lowered, revealing faces that were thin-lipped and pinched. Why are they looking at me this way? I turned around slowly, watching as the crowd got larger and the people on the street began muttering amongst themselves. They didn¡¯t get close to me, but they were close enough for the bottom of their shoes to shine with the blood getting washed off my body. Oh, I thought, glancing at my sides, my arms, my thighs and my back in the reflection of a store window. There were deep gouges running along my back, tiny holes that littered my thighs and torso. They were healing, but they were still bleeding. What doesn¡¯t kill us, remember? I would be fine in a couple of hours. Maybe not strong enough to fight for another week, in all honesty, but¡­what¡¯s the matter? They¡¯d all seen me bleed before, hadn¡¯t they? I¡¯d spat blood and knuckled it away, gotten bathed in it, but they¡¯d never seen the times after the fight had happened.


    The nights that getting my suit off would take nearly two hours, just because it hurt to peel it off. The days where I¡¯d lie there on my apartment floor, panting in the sunlight coming through the window, because I couldn¡¯t.


    Their heroes aren¡¯t meant to look like this, I thought. Hell, my brother looked perfect to the public.


    It wasn¡¯t just the mural, but also the posters, the billboards. Adam¡¯s face was everywhere. With that same tight smile, those same shiny eyes, and in that costume that was sickeningly close to looking just like Zeus¡¯ had.


    Coming to think of it, I had never looked like this in public. Not in front of so many people, either.


    The one time I save the world, and I look like I just lost.


    But I also didn¡¯t really feel like I¡¯d won much of anything.


    Very slowly, I turned around, facing the crowd. I gave them as best a smile I could and shrugged. I hovered, then landed back down onto the ground, stumbling, my head woozy, and getting caught by a man with bright orange hair. I didn¡¯t want to, my first reaction was to push him off, because I didn¡¯t need some human¡¯s help to stand up, but my hand was on his forearm, and his hand was on my shoulder. I hadn¡¯t fallen to the ground. Not yet. I was bent and I was feeling like I¡¯d collapse any second now, but he didn¡¯t let me. Another guy helped me straighten, and a young woman handed me the vial. I hadn¡¯t even realized I dropped it. Get your head in the freaking game, Ry.


    ¡°Hey,¡± the orange-haired guy said. ¡°Someone call¡ª¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said, finding, somehow, enough strength to hover. ¡°An ambulance? Come on. I¡¯m a superhero.¡±


    They all stared up at me, and one by one, the phones that were still up lowered. Under the glow of the yellow street lights and the stores either side of the street, their faces were illuminated by soft colors. It made their eyes watery, if just for a moment in the rain. Adam was still above me, right there on a flashing billboard that turned everything white or silver or gold for brief periods, but barely anybody paid it any attention. Did I miss something?


    Nobody gave me an answer, so I hovered a little higher, needing to leave.


    Then, I heard a voice call out: ¡°We¡¯re glad you¡¯re back!¡±


    And I¡¯ll admit that I paused, just for a second, as the pit in my gut stopped widening. I swallowed bitter saliva, then shot into the sky. Something felt off. So terribly wrong. The whole city was calm, quiet, docile. But there were entire city blocks that just didn¡¯t exist anymore. Demolition rigs chartered away slabs of rubble. Entire roads were nothing but dirt side tracks still being filled in with asphalt. The further I flew across the city, the more destruction I saw. Large craters the size of several semi-trucks pock-marked the city, like gunshot wounds in the city¡¯s flesh. A girl is gone for five minutes, and everything is weird. More than weird. Not to mention the dock, which was a crumbling mass floating off into the waters. Containers lay half-sunken in the water, rotting away.


    But there was peace, and there was quiet, and the SDU had answers for me that I needed right now.


    Because if I missed something this bad, then shouldn¡¯t everyone hate me? I was getting used to being lied to and yelled at or simply looked down on by the general public for making such a mess whenever I tried to help them out. I owned up to some of that. I wasn¡¯t the cleanest, most precise superhero in the world. But look at this place. At the missing skyscrapers and the empty streets. The ocean filled with rubble, and the silence that hung over so much of it. New Olympus had never been so quiet in my entire life. It almost made my skin crawl listening to it.


    And again and again, right where the demolition of decrepit buildings was happening, Adam¡¯s face would make the entire work site glow with a billboard put up right next to it. The city was always a mix and match of so many different colors it could give you a headache. Neon reds and soft yellows, bright white and flickering blue.


    But now it was this glaring harsh white light making the nighttime glow, like the surgical light above an operating table. Maybe it was the rain, maybe it was the wind up here, but New Olympus felt freezing cold.


    Nothing close to what I had left it like.


    It turned out that I was still the SDU¡¯s favorite little secret, because after I cleaned up, and they gave me a new pair of clothes to wear (to my surprise, they fit my perfectly), they told me to wait in a similar room to the one that I had first been brought into when they hired me. Except this time, they brought me two boxes of pizza, a large cola, and a phone to use as I waited for Overseer Two to get here. I finished both pizzas in less than five minutes, and half the cold was drunk before I barely got the cap off. After showering and getting my wounds cleaned, I felt sleepy. Felt like the weight of everything from the past several months since summer started had finally gotten the better of me.


    But the phone kept me lucid and awake, but I left it there on the corner of the table. I wouldn¡¯t really know who to start with or who I should even bother with, either. Mom, despite our many, many, many problems, deserved at least to know that I was somewhat alive. Michael and Grant, and Emelia too, also needed to know that I haven''t died yet either. But my first thought, admittedly, went to Bianca. I knew her number off head, and when curiosity got the better of me, and I checked through the phone¡¯s contacts, it was saved right there in the call logs, too.


    I had shut the phone down before I could do anything stupid. Superhero-ing first, then real life.


    Luckily, Overseer Two made sure that I couldn¡¯t be Rylee for at least another few hours when he phased into existence on the other side of the table. As ever, he wore a scarf and reflective sunglasses, a suit that could probably buy me a new costume, and leather-gloved hands he kept firmly behind his back. But he was smiling.


    And that made me uncomfortable, because it was thin, and didn¡¯t reach his cheeks.


    But he was smiling.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°If our relationship was any more cordial, I would have shaken your hand,¡± he said, in what I guessed was his best way of saying he missed me. ¡°I understand very well that there are many, many things you need to know¡ª¡±


    ¡°How¡¯s Bianca?¡± I asked, because my tongue was moving faster than a brain that was barely functioning.


    He tilted his head and glanced at the phone, then back at me. ¡°Safe,¡± he said. ¡°Her track performances have been inconsistent, and her coach would much rather she gets her priorities straightened. She has skipped multiple early morning practice sessions to instead be around one Katie Clear. Her mother isn¡¯t happy about it, and there is friction at home. She¡¯s contacted you several times, but you¡¯ve not been available. We don¡¯t access the messages.¡±


    Again I¡¯m hearing that name, I thought, tapping my finger against the table, trying not to feel guilty that I hadn¡¯t been there to help her through whatever it was that was screwing her up. Is Katie some kind of¡­Nevermind.


    ¡°Although,¡± he said. ¡°She did have a major infection that put her in the hospital.¡±


    I froze, staring at him. ¡°What? When did that¡ª¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s fine now,¡± he said, ever deadpan. ¡°It happened after a party on the night of October 26th.¡±


    I relaxed into the metal seat, then paused again. ¡°But¡­don¡¯t you mean September 26th?¡±


    Overseer Two shook his head slightly. He didn¡¯t speak for a moment, as if he was trying to choose the right words to say right now, only making my heart thump harder against my chest. ¡°Our team declared that we should take this in steps, your reintroduction into New Olympus. Our first phase consisted of medical aid if you needed¡ª¡±


    I stood up, pushing the chair backward, suddenly awake. ¡°What do you mean reintroduction?¡±


    He sighed through his nose, then cleared his throat. ¡°You¡¯ve been missing for nearly two months.¡±


    I stared at him, through those dark blue lenses and into those pale white orbs. The room was silent, and so was my heart, skipping so many beats I thought I would pass out. ¡°What¡­¡± I breathed out. ¡°Two freaking months?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°November came to an end yesterday. Happy Holidays, indeed, with your return.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck?!¡± I said, forcing both my hands through my hair and turning around, because I couldn¡¯t face him at that moment, and I couldn¡¯t even if I wanted to. He said nothing as I paced the large room, my bare feet slapping against the floor until I spun around again and asked, ¡°Then what the hell happened to the city? What about the Kaiju?¡± I gestured to the blue vial sitting on the table next to balled up napkins. ¡°Oh, and I forgot to tell you that I got my hands on a godsdamned cure for that thing, too! So¡­forget everything else. Get that out and¡ª¡±


    ¡°The Kaiju is dead,¡± he said, and that felt like Cadaver had punched me in the chest again, sapping the air right out of my lungs. ¡°And the virus is now no longer an epidemic, but a mild sickness that can be treated with as much as a tablet in any convenience store around the corner.¡± He held out his hand, and a tiny golden-brown tab appeared on his palm. He placed it on the table with a clack. ¡°And all thanks to Cassandra Blackwood and her pharmaceutical company, who kept the patent, but made the drug so cheap that Lower Olympians can buy it in bulk if they so wish to. Miss Blackwood is now the world¡¯s greatest asset, because a human just saved them all for free.¡±


    I stood there with my arms hanging limply by my sides, numb. ¡°What?¡±


    Overseer Two clasped his hands behind his back again, and I heard them tighten. ¡°We¡­struggled to find a cure that wouldn¡¯t result in death or comatose states of decay. Blackwood Pharma created one within a month.¡±


    I slowly walked toward him and pressed my palms flat against the table. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Rylee,¡± he said softly. ¡°There¡¯s nothing more that I can say except it wasn¡¯t your¡ª¡±


    I held up my hand and shut my eyes. I swayed on my feet, fought hard to breathe.


    Rhea.


    I lowered my hand and gripped onto the metal chair, digging my fingers into it.


    Cousin.


    The chair slammed hard into the ceiling. So hard that it stuck up there into the burning light fixtures.


    Overseer Two stood unfazed as sparks doused both of us. He watched me pant. Watched as I swore and screamed and finally just¡­stopped. I stood in front of the table opposite him, my eyes still shut, the buzzing sound of electricity humming above us background noise to the blood in my ears. I slid a hand down my face, chewed my tongue, and didn¡¯t know what to do. I stared at the tiny pill, at the golden-brown color, at the sweetness of its scent.


    Gods, I didn¡¯t even have to fucking ask, did I?


    ¡°That¡¯s Ambrosia, isn¡¯t it?¡± I whispered.


    He nodded.


    I laughed dryly, bitterly, and turned away from the table. What the hell, universe?


    What more do you freaking want from me?


    ¡°May I ask why you had such a reaction?¡± he said. ¡°I presume the cure wasn¡¯t easy to attain.¡±


    ¡°Tell your boys to stop recording,¡± I said quietly, flatly. I glanced at him, and saw him nod, then raise his hand to signal for dead silence. I only continued after several seconds. ¡°There was a place somewhere under the city that¡¯s like a labyrinth. In that labyrinth were several people. People who are just like me. People like my cousin.¡±


    He tensed, his arms falling to his sides. ¡°Your¡­cousin. I assume¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t matter now. They¡¯re all dead.¡±


    Silence, then: ¡°My condolences.¡±


    ¡°She was an asshole, anyway,¡± I said, waving him off. ¡°She was loud and annoying and she was always trying to show everyone how strong and capable she was, but, you know, in the end she died. She would have been a pain to work with, you know? So maybe it¡¯s a good thing. The world would have hated her because of Titan, and what kinda life would that have been, right? Everyone always hating you, even though you¡¯re nothing like your father or anything like what he did or was.¡± I cleared my throat and folded my arms, not because I was cold, but to keep my hands from shaking. ¡°And she probably heard them all getting killed one by one, and she probably fought, but¡­that¡¯s just what I keep telling myself, but knowing Rhea, she would have killed that bastard first chance, too.¡±


    He let the silence sit between us, choosing to say nothing at all, and maybe for the better.


    It gave me time to blink it all away and breathe in. ¡°Who killed the Kaiju?¡±


    ¡°Rylee¡ª¡±


    ¡°I really, really don¡¯t need sympathy right now.¡± I looked at him over my shoulder. ¡°Please?¡±


    ¡°Adam,¡± he replied, because of course it was. ¡°We were sure that after your fight that he wouldn''t be combat ready until further notice to the public. Two weeks after you disappeared, the Kaiju attacked the city, starting in the hospitals and gathering on the streets. Five hundred casualties, a thousand more injured. Remarkable by all means for what was classified as category five in its destruction. And for once we thought that bureaucratic fiddlings wouldn¡¯t get in the way of better judgment, but it did. The SDU focused on evacuation and nothing more. We were made immobile, because the Olympiad was given rights to this problem in meetings that spanned far, far too fucking long.¡± He paused, then apologized for swearing. ¡°It was Adam, eventually, who fought the beast.¡±


    ¡°Wearing a costume, too?¡±


    ¡°And donning something similar to your father¡¯s wear, yes.¡±


    I sighed, and felt like all my energy slipped out of my body with it. ¡°Do you have a dossier or something?¡±


    ¡°We had scheduled a debrief with you and several of our¡ª¡±


    ¡°Do you have a dossier ready or not?¡±


    Overseer Two stared at me, then nodded.


    I grabbed a remaining slice of pizza and the bottle of cola as I headed for the exit. ¡°I¡¯m fucking beat, and there¡¯s too much to focus on right now, so I¡¯m gonna go home and I¡¯m gonna fall asleep on my own bed, then I¡¯m gonna wake up and probably read a comic book in the bathtub until I¡¯m all wrinkly. Then I¡¯ll have Chinese for lunch and call Emelia and catch up at a coffee place probably. You¡¯re gonna call me a week from now, and you¡¯ll ask me how I¡¯ve been doing and how I¡¯m coping, and you¡¯re gonna pretend that you haven¡¯t been watching me the whole time. Then we¡¯ll get to work figuring things out. I might hate Adam, but he saved the city. Gods knows I¡¯ve spent two months doing ab-so-lu-te-ly freaking nothing, so congrats to him.¡± I stopped at the door, then turned around to look at him, pointing the pizza his way. ¡°By the way, there¡¯s this guy called Ryan Kennedy that you should definitely get on your payroll. He knows too much to not be an asset. And¡­right, there¡¯s a bunch of tech¡ª¡±


    ¡°We know,¡± he said. ¡°Rylee, get some rest. Your new costume and the dossier will be ready for you in about a week¡¯s time, and even though I know you need to get yourself in order again, I expect your help. It¡¯s just the¡ª¡±


    ¡°Order of business in the superhero industry,¡± I muttered, biting off a chunk. ¡°Sucks, but that¡¯s life.¡±


    Before I left and the doors opened behind me, I stared at the tiny tablet sitting on the table. Cassie didn¡¯t come up with that. I knew that much at least. So thank you, mom, for making everything I¡¯ve done mean nothing.


    Because now she finally wanted to start playing hero. Priceless.


    I hated to wake Dennie up this late at night, but I brought him his favorite whiskey on my way home (borrowed it, but whatever), and I couldn¡¯t think of any other way to make him smile that big. He¡¯d hugged me a lot tighter than I thought his frail arms were capable of doing, and I had to laugh him off me. The guy didn¡¯t even look at the whiskey as he dragged me inside the shop and sat me down on a bar stool. The entire place was lit by the tiny yellow bulbs above the coffee stands, meaning it was just me and him. He talked, and he brewed coffee, and that¡¯s all that happened. He didn¡¯t ask where I had gone, or what had happened after Lucas and I had fought in my room.


    He didn¡¯t question why I had suddenly appeared almost two months later covered in scars.


    All he wanted to talk about was his crazy new neighbors and the old fox that wanted to reignite a flame that burned out back in the Naughties. About this one customer who wanted to dine and dash, but trust old Dennie Heart to catch him on the back of his knees with a broomstick. And I sat there listening to him, pretending my hands didn¡¯t shake as I lifted the coffee mug to my lips. Acting as if there wasn¡¯t a permanent ringing in my ears that just wouldn¡¯t leave. How my foot wouldn¡¯t stop bouncing and how I sometimes laughed and then winced, pausing to catch my breath because the pain that just shot through my side nearly knocked me flat. He would stand there with his back opposite me as I caught my breath, pausing for a moment, then bringing me another mug.


    We probably went through tomorrow¡¯s stock, tell you that much. He said I didn¡¯t have to come in tomorrow, and that if I wanted, hell, he could even call Bianca over here so she could hang out with me. It was sweet, I¡¯ll be honest, because he probably knew I didn¡¯t have the guts to call her over myself. I declined, and he shrugged, smiling at me underneath those tiny light bulbs. He stared at me, nodding as he wiped our cups.


    ¡°What?¡± I asked him, not stopping the smile on my lips. ¡°Something wrong with my face?¡±


    Dennie set the mugs back down next to the machines and leaned on the counter. ¡°You know, kid,¡± he said, almost quieter than the rain beating against the windows. ¡°I think you woulda been just fine without your powers.¡±


    I snorted a little, and laughed, too. ¡°Yeah, and where¡¯s this coming from?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°My eyes might be shot, but I know a superhero when I see one.¡±


    ¡°¡®Cause of the costume and the flashy powers?¡±


    ¡°¡®Cause New Olympus ain¡¯t give you so much as a dime to buy new shoes for those bare feet of yours,¡± he said, which was almost true¡ªI had walked back barefoot on the cold concrete. ¡°But you still keep comin¡¯ back.¡±


    ¡°Where else am I supposed to go, D?¡± I asked quietly. ¡°Mom kicked me out, and I wouldn¡¯t go to the Olympiad or their training program even if I had the cash. Olympus U does look kinda nice, but there¡¯s also¡­¡±


    ¡°That girl you can¡¯t seem to stop swooning over,¡± he said. ¡°Somethin¡¯ about you heroes, I swear. You can split the Earth in two if you sneeze, but get yourself a girl, and suddenly you can¡¯t even walk straight either.¡±


    I laughed, and honestly, it came from deep down. I raised my hands. ¡°She¡¯s my kryptonite, I¡¯ll admit.¡±


    Dennie patted my shoulder as he rounded the bar, shaking me a little. ¡°See?¡± he said, walking toward the stairs that led to the rooms upstairs. ¡°Don¡¯t need my eyes to see why you keep coming back. You¡¯re a lover, kid.¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± I said, smiling. ¡°Not for everyone, you know!¡±


    ¡°Still got enough in there for everyone, buck.¡±


    I let him head into his room, hearing as he chuckled to himself. I went up to my room not that long after him, and I stood in the doorway for a while, looking at the space where my desk used to stand along the wall near the window. At the closed blinds and the neatly made bed. Dennie had gone through the hassle of putting up a few shelves to keep my comics off the ground, and won¡¯t you look at that, sitting on my bedside table? A picture of me and him, but I had been young enough to still have those large buck teeth sticking out of my mouth as I grinned.


    Mom had taken this photo. I remembered that much, and sitting down on my bed, sleep hit me like a rock, almost as if she was here to drag my duvet over me again. I remembered blacking out that way, the picture frame on my chest, my body strewn across my bed like I¡¯d just thrown myself on it, and a line of drool snaking down my chin. But I say that because it wasn¡¯t sleep. Not really. I had expected the exhaustion to come at me with a vengeance, a vendetta, for me ignoring it for so long. But it was just out of arm¡¯s reach. Just out of the way ,because I kept seeing the same gory images flashing past my ears. Kept hearing the shrieking sound Cadaver had made when he started laughing. I tossed and I turned, I curled up and splayed out, and finally I gave up and opened my eyes. I glanced at my phone, and it had only been an hour. Funny. I had a week of freedom, and I couldn¡¯t rest.


    The worst part? If my costume wasn¡¯t in bits and pieces, I would have gone and done something.


    Maybe not fight someone, or hurt someone. Maybe just¡­gone to do something.


    Not quite help a cat out of a tree, but why not, you know?


    Anything to stop my mind from burning the vile image of seeing Cadaver¡¯s blood soaked grin.


    I sat upright and blew a strand of hair off my face, still tired to the bone and deeper even than that, but I had no answers for my body right now. My bed creaked as I swung my legs off of it and onto the floor, my necklace swinging as I stood up and crossed my room. I opened my closet and crouched, digging through old clothes and old bits of costumes that I hadn¡¯t really gelled with over the years. I smiled as I saw a mask I had once wanted to wear, and the hoodie that had once been a staple of my stealth outfit. But then, at the back in a box, I found all of them.


    I pulled the box out of the closet and sat on my haunches, flipping it open.


    And every single one of them was there. Ever colorless, half-finished stencil of my comic book.


    Got nothing better to do, I thought, picking the box up and heading to my bed. Besides, it should be easier this time around. I placed the box on my bed, and found my pencils and pens, rulers and character sheets¡ª


    My window smashed apart as something crashed through it. I sighed through my nose and shut my eyes as the wind and the rain pelted my carpet. Then my nose wrinkled as the stink of blood leapt right toward my face.


    ¡°Oh my God,¡± I muttered, looking at the thing on my floor, bleeding onto the clean carpet.


    ¡°Unconventional, I know, but as you can see, I¡¯m not in the realm of reasonable action right now.¡±


    I put down my pencil and folded away the glasses I sometimes used, mainly to just make me focus, and also because staring at my laptop screen with eyes like mine could become a pain after a while. I almost didn¡¯t want to even bother with this right now. ¡°Should I even ask where the hell the rest of you is, or is that too much to ask?¡±


    Ava¡ªwell, her severed head¡ªrolled over to face me, her gristly stump of a neck spitting blood. ¡°That¡¯s equally as important as you getting me back in one piece,¡± she said. Gods, why is it always you? ¡°So you¡ª¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Nuh-uh. Nope. You¡¯re the last person I wanted to deal with. How did you even get here?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter!¡± she said. ¡°Because if you don¡¯t help me, Bianca might get killed.¡±


    That makes me pause, then roll her head onto her neck with my foot. ¡°Ava, if you¡¯re fucking with me¡­¡±


    ¡°Cross my heart and, well, I¡¯d do it if I had hands or my torso.¡± Her lips thinned. ¡°I know it seems too convenient for me to come to you right now, and I know you would much rather see me like this forever¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re finally right about something, congrats.¡±


    ¡°¡ªbut I¡¯m not lying. Not about this.¡± She was¡­panting? How? Were her legs running off somewhere right now? But those weren¡¯t the questions I needed to be asking, not if she wasn¡¯t lying, but it was Ava we were talking about here. ¡°But if there¡¯s one thing I have right now, it¡¯s the sense of mind to know that she¡¯s been in danger for as long as you stopped being around her. Rylee, Olympia, I wouldn¡¯t be begging you right now if I was lying, but God above, I literally can¡¯t even run away if I¡¯m lying to you! Bianca could be dead, very, very soon. Next week soon.¡±


    I stared at her, wondering what my life had come to. ¡°Who?¡± I asked quietly, rubbing my hands, because maybe I was wrong¡ªmaybe I do want to fight someone, hurt someone, maybe put someone in a hole somewhere.


    ¡°I¡¯d tell you,¡± she said, ¡°but you¡¯ve got to find the rest of my body first.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re making a deal like that in this state?¡± I said, standing up.


    If she had shoulders, she would have shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m the devil¡¯s daughter, of course I am. Now what do you say? You save the girl you love, and I get my body back, and you can even keep me on your nightstand. Deal?¡±


    Fuck me, when does it ever end?

 Interlude 4: Black Bird

    Either Lucas Freeman wasn¡¯t half the man he used to be, or he was drowning himself in the same poison that nearly killed him a decade ago. Veronica was willing to bet on both as she stood in the doorway of her house, in this silent little heavenly slice of suburbia that had never quite felt like home. No matter the blank cheques. No matter what she had done to make very sure that Rylee would have at least stayed off the same streets she had been raised on.


    This place was just not home, and it hadn¡¯t felt like a house since that day that¡¯s burned itself into her head. She hates herself, there was no other way of putting it. She came to this house to sleep and to wake up in daze as her alarm goes off every morning at four, then it would be off to work on a diet of painkillers and coffee. Her friends (she was surprised she still had them, the normal ones that invited her to book clubs and knitting over tea) said that she was killing herself. That one day she¡¯d be dead on her kitchen floor, and maybe she should stop for Rylee, and they know how hard things have been since Alexander died in that terrible, terrible fight ten years ago.


    But if it wasn¡¯t for her diet of emptiness and exhaustion, she probably wouldn¡¯t have noticed the tiny white feather there in the foyer. Tonight, she was a little drunk off wine and champagne, and Rett had done her a hell of a favor and driven her home. So she stumbled inside, not entirely stable on her bare feet, her heels hanging from her fingers and her coat loosely draped off her shoulders. She stared at the feather as she kicked the door shut.


    Then she said, ¡°Lights,¡± and the house blossomed a little too brightly. Veronica hung her coat and dropped her shoes on the floor, right there where Rylee left a few of her sneakers by the door, where she left them be in case she ever wanted to take them. That way she can slip in and go without seeing me in this state. She hiccuped, then crouched, her red silk dress spilling onto the wooden floor as she plucked the feather off the ground. She peered at it, and yes, certainly, it was the same feather she had seen so, so many times before, and God, she wanted to burn it.


    But he was there sitting where Alexander used to sit, leaned back and comfortable as all hell.


    Veronica stood, leaning against the archway that led into the living room. She stared at him, blinking slowly, looking through the loose strands of hair that had fallen over her glasses. He stared back at her, and there was something¡­wrong with him, not that there was ever anything right with him to begin with. Nobody, though, ever sat in that chair except her. It was such a petty little thought, coming from deep in her mind, somewhere that had gotten stirred by the alcohol swishing around in her brain. That¡¯s my seat. That¡¯s our seat. And he looked like he had been there for a while, a glass of whiskey on the table in front of him, half empty and now refilled, too.


    ¡°How was your party?¡± Lucas asked, his voice ever gravelly. My God, he looked a mess, with his unruly hair and his mess of unshaven stubble. As she walked into the living room, she smelt him, too, and it nearly made her puke. Sweat. Cigarettes. His knuckles were torn open, and there was dried blood splattered all over his white shirt. His coat, like hers, hung on a hook beside the door. By all means, make yourself fucking comfortable, Shrike.


    Veronica took the whiskey bottle out of his hands and forced the cork back inside. Then she looked down at him, this filthy mess of a man that was allowing his stench to soak into the cracked leather of the only thing that she could fall asleep on in this entire house. Then she turned her back on him and headed into the kitchen, putting the bottle back behind the new boxes of sugary cereal that Rylee seemed to always like so much. Then she turned.


    And he was right there, just a few feet away, whiskey in his hand, the other in his pocket.


    ¡°You look tired,¡± he said.


    ¡°World¡¯s greatest,¡± she muttered. ¡°How could that have ever gotten past you, Lucas?¡±


    ¡°I saw what your boy did,¡± he continued, walking toward the counter¡ªshe watched him, standing still, not threatened by a man she was more than sure could slit her throat if he wanted to. A few years ago, and she wouldn¡¯t have thought that. But this wasn¡¯t Shrike in her home anymore, it was the man who had worn that mask to get away with the crimes he¡¯d committed in the name of justice. ¡°Saving the city, good for him. I bet you Cassidy is proud.¡±


    ¡°A billion dollars richer,¡± Veronica said flatly. ¡°She has Damage Control doing reconstruction now.¡±


    ¡°If she¡¯s not proud, then at least she¡¯s drunk with glee.¡±


    Only one person would be happy half the city got destroyed, Veronica thought. No. Two, actually.


    The only difference was that Cassie was doing it for the money, the power, to quietly keep chewing up a larger and larger slice of New Olympus for herself. The other person was an alcoholic shell of a dying man now.


    Because for Lucas, it meant that he had a reason to keep playing the tragic superhero.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± she asked, taking off her glasses to massage her eyes. ¡°I escaped that party so I could leave behind the kind of people who want to see superheroes get killed. You¡¯re not making my night any better.¡±


    Lucas set his glass down with a chink on the counter, hands on the marble, facing her. ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to be a Supe to have heard me, unless the tetanus is acting up again.¡±


    He grunted, but his eyes were dead set on her, dark and hollow. When was the last time you slept, Lucas? But show him fear, reluctance, so much as a step back, and he¡¯ll take a mile, and probably your life, too. ¡°I¡¯ll do you a favor and pretend I didn¡¯t just hear an accusation,¡± he said. ¡°Since I¡¯m not welcome for a drink anymore, I¡ª¡±


    ¡°You never were. I only let you in here because I always forgot to bolt down the doggie flap.¡±


    He tensed, his hand curling around the glass. Go on, I dare you. Lucas stared at her as he finished half the whisky still sitting in the bottom of the glass, then set it down again much harder. ¡°The fuckin¡¯ mouth on you.¡±


    Veronica couldn¡¯t help but smile a little. ¡°It¡¯s at least one thing Rylee got from me.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of the kid,¡± he said, his voice dropping. ¡°Where the fuck was she? Adam was alone out there, and that kid¡¯s got as much experience as Hermes had reasons to stay off the lines. The one time the city needs¡ª¡±


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°I think you should finish your drink and leave my home, Lucas. It¡¯s late.¡±


    He straightened. ¡°You don¡¯t know where she is either, then.¡±


    She froze for a moment, her heart stuttering ever so slightly, making her blood run cold. ¡°You¡¯re the one who was so adamant that she should start focusing on behind a superhero more than anything else. You wanted her out of her bedroom upstairs and onto those God awful streets every single night.¡± She walked toward the counter and set her palms down flat on it, and now it was her turn to stare deep into the eyes of a thing that had only been wearing the face of a human for about only half its life. ¡°So let me ask you this, Lucas. Where is my daughter?¡±


    He had the nerve to smile. ¡°Caring now after all the shit you¡¯ve done to her, V? Come on.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t start with me,¡± she said quietly. ¡°You forced yourself between us.¡±


    ¡°As always, it¡¯s never Veronica Addam¡¯s fault, is it? Always somebody else¡¯s.¡± He folded his arms and tilted his head slightly, and when he continued, his voice was low, silent, like the mutterings of some snake that had learnt how to spit its acid and form it into words. ¡°You don¡¯t call. You don¡¯t text. You watch her on the news when you¡¯re half asleep drunk on that chair every night. I¡¯m the one who takes care of her, makes sure she¡¯s straight, focused, alive, and all you ever do is wish that you did better, but you don¡¯t do anything at all. Your kid ran away when the city needed her. She¡¯s always going on about her old man and that statue, and when she finally got¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re either a shell of what you were, or someone¡¯s wearing your skin,¡± she said, cutting him off, ¡°if you think that your bullshit is going to work on the person who made sure you stupid little gadgets always worked.¡±


    Lucas slid his tongue across the line of his teeth, staring just as hard at her as she was him.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know who you think you are, or if in your head you¡¯re still this¡­this person who ruled over the night and the same streets that dragged your teeth against its concrete,¡± she said, rounding the counter, and taking the glass from him and dumping the rest of it in the sink, ¡°but nobody is afraid of you anymore. You¡¯re what¡¯s all that remains of a time that died with my husband, and you should be on your knees thanking me for making sure you¡¯re even able to stand here and fill my house with whatever disease-riddled flesh that¡¯s clinging to your frail little body. I could have left you for dead. I could have set your spine back wrong, or let you bleed out on those rocks.¡± Now she stood eye-to-eye with him, looking down her nose and into the pits of his eyes, into the depths of emptiness that had long since left his soul behind¡ªmaybe on that planet, maybe on that hill, or maybe it had been breaking bit by bit for so long that he had left himself all over the city, tiny little fragments that cut people open if they were ever unlucky enough to stumble across Lucas Freeman in the flesh. ¡°But you didn¡¯t deserve that, because Zeus died there, and if you did, too, then I would have split heaven and hell to bring him back to life, just so that you wouldn¡¯t share half the remembrance he received. So leave, Lucas, and if you come back, it should be with Rylee, and an apology, and you go fucking tell her what you did to rip her out of my hands again and again.¡±


    Silence. The kind of silence that made her ears ring and her heart thump.


    ¡°You¡¯re blaming me for you throwing your kid out the front door?¡±


    She slapped him, and the sound carried. She had nothing more to say as he opened and closed his jaw. They both had secrets that could end what little they had left. They¡¯d lived lives even before the spotlight had ever even thought about turning to them. Veronica wasn¡¯t proud of her work, herself, but she¡¯d had a daughter. One that she¡¯s put through school. One that she¡¯d watched every day get bigger and taller, stronger and fitter. On the days she got sick, she would say she was sick, too, and sit with Rylee on the couch, watching some movie they¡¯d watched a million times over, but she hadn¡¯t cared. Not at all. She wasn¡¯t perfect, she knew that, the silence she met in this house every single day reminded her of that like a blow to the chest, but there was one little thing she had left.


    And it was a girl she hadn¡¯t seen anywhere in two months. But she knows where Rylee lives now.


    She¡¯s even mustered up the courage to stand across the street outside the coffee shop, and she would watch her work, watch as she would serve customers, and she had thought about it several times, going in there and¡­


    But no, she didn¡¯t deserve to force her way back into Rylee¡¯s life. That wasn¡¯t fair.


    Just like how this man continued to treat her daughter like she was one of his little black birds.


    Lucas finally broke away. His gaze shifted as he cleared his throat and grabbed his coat off the rack. She listened to him slide into the coat, heard as he turned to look at her from the foyer. ¡°Your kid¡¯s not a hero, V.¡±


    ¡°Neither of us gets to decide what that means for her,¡± she said icily. ¡°What did you come here for?¡±


    ¡°To see if you were willing to save the world again,¡± he said quietly. ¡°But you got too attached again.¡±


    With that, he vanished. Veronica stared at the empty spot where he had just been standing, sick to her stomach and weak in her legs as she finally breathed out. She found herself on the couch, far from the chair that she normally sat in. The house was dark, and there had been tears streaking down her cheeks at some point, smudging her makeup, but they¡¯d long since stopped. Pictures of times when they had gone to the park, the museum, her first time riding a bike, and the first time she ever played catch with Rylee with reflective pieces of glass too dark for her to see. They surrounded her, hung from the walls like the crosses that used to hang over her mother¡¯s thin bed frame.


    Her mother had rotted away in that bed, praying to those crosses for help, for some kind of salvation to whatever it was that was chewing up her insides every single day. Veronica wasn¡¯t asking for her little girl back.


    For some kind of miracle she knew deep down she was never going to get.


    All she was hoping for was that she was safe and alive, and when the whiskey burned itself down her throat, scalding and cool and washing away the vile taste of bitter saliva, she sat upright and dropped her glass.


    It hit the floor and rolled, spilling itself onto the carpet.


    The picture frame above the flat screen, the only photograph she had of all three of them, was glowing. Shining with the reflection of two golden irises. Veronica slowly rose, barely able to stand without clutching onto the couch. The shadow on the wall was slim, short, right about her height and her build, exactly what she¡ª


    It wasn¡¯t Rylee. It was a girl with short cropped hair covered in blood, and another one with black hair and hollow eyes and wearing a striped red and white blouse. How did they get in here? The alarms should have¡­


    Lucas.


    ¡°Hi there!¡± the girl with the black hair said, grinning. ¡°I heard you¡¯re a bit of a miracle worker.¡±


    ¡°Who¡ª¡±


    The girl with the golden eyes moved, now standing right in front of Veronica. She stumbled and sat down hard on the table, looking up at a girl who looked hauntingly like a man who she had seen die in front of her.


    ¡°She¡¯s a little cranky. Just woke up from nearly dying,¡± the girl said. ¡°So be smart about this, because if you play this right, you won¡¯t get hurt, because I also really don¡¯t want Olympia angry at me. That would blow.¡±


    Veronica tensed her jaw, swallowed her panting breaths. Her finger slid under the table and pressed a button that had been there even before she¡¯d gotten a ring slid around her finger. Then she slowly stood up.


    The girl blinked, as if surprised. ¡°You actually listened. I thought that would be a little harder, but¡­I¡¯ll take it.¡± She strolled across the foyer and into the living room, and Ronnie almost threw up in her mouth at the stink of blood that was clinging to the girl. ¡°Between you and me,¡± she said, lowering her voice, ¡°this is either gonna be the greatest Christmas of our lives, or you might just never see your daughter again. How exciting.¡±

 Issue #51: Long Overdue

    This was probably going to be the scariest thing I¡¯ve ever done in my life. I would rather fight Cadaver again than do this. Hell, give me next dibs with the Kaiju that Adam killed. There were still chunks of the thing spread out all over the city, with cleanup crews doing their best to dissect and section away the meat and the bones away from the public as fast as possible. See, I could probably do that tonight instead. Go and help the Damage Control boys with their heroics, even if Cassie would probably piss herself insane if I got even a glimmer of the news¡¯ attention right now. I guess that ship already sailed, I thought, walking past a large display of TVs in a storefront. Look mom, I¡¯m on the news. Olympia was back, and like moths to light, almost everyone I passed on the street was either looking at their phones, at the screens in store fronts, and even in the occasional newspaper being sold in several corner stores.


    It¡¯s only been a few hours since I came back, and Adam saving the city was seemingly old news.


    Any other day, and I¡¯d be in my costume, skimming the sky, screwing with the media as I gave them nothing at all to use in their articles except for a smile and a wink. I¡¯ll be honest with you right now and say a very tiny part of myself wanted to revel in the attention. Not tonight. I had something important I needed to get done.


    With a hoodie underneath my varsity jacket, a heavy, lump backpack, jeans and sneakers that were only getting more and more wet in the rainfall, I looked like just another kid. Down on their luck, lost everything in the Kaiju fight. I could see so many of them around this part of the city. In the boroughs that are just statistics to the people who were already throwing their Christmas parties in the Upper West. They¡¯re sitting on street corners, on curbs and in alleyways, ghastly little shadows so pale and thin and wet that they looked like some freakish things that Frankie would sew together from any spare body parts she could find. And, for once in my life, I felt sick.


    I didn¡¯t know what it was, or why my gut felt so heavy walking past their outstretched hands, but¡­


    Being a superhero meant playing a game with guilt every other day. You see someone get hurt and your first thought is always gonna be, I should have been there. Adam might have saved the city, but come on, look at this place. At the destroyed buildings and crumbling roads, at the entire blocks worth of destruction and the back alley hospitals I could smell festering with all kinds of diseases right now. The city was just getting worse. Sicker.


    The big bad might have been defeated, but New Olympus had lost a bit of its shine.


    Or maybe I was too high up in the sky to realize it never really had it.


    As I waited for the light to go red so I could cross the street, a girl my age tugged my sleeve. There were five other people waiting around me, all of us getting pelted with the rain, waiting for the traffic to finally ease, but none of them were paying attention to her. She was like a shadow that went from person to person, finally landing on me. I had watched them ignore her, check their phones or just keep listening to music or watch the rain instead. I didn¡¯t have anything to give her, and I would have, really, I would have¡ªbut I guessed that wasn¡¯t an excuse.


    And then she tugged my sleeve again, making me look at her. She was hunched over a little, with a black eye and busted lip, her hair drenched and wet. My lips thinned when I saw the smaller boy clutching to her hoodie, his eyes on the ground at my feet. In some bitter kind of irony, the little kid was wearing a red and blue Olympia hoodie. Tattered, torn, old, and filthy, smelling like the days these two had probably been wandering around here.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t the time,¡± Ava mumbled from my backpack, her voice muffled. ¡°You said one stop, and¡ª¡±


    Ava had a pretty good set of eyes for someone whose head was in a bag. I didn¡¯t care, though.


    ¡°Please,¡± the girl whispered, her one good eye on me. There was some kind of contempt in that eye, some kind of glistening envy that twinkled in her irises. But that was desperation, helplessness. These two didn¡¯t care that Olympia had gotten back from her sudden disappearance, and nor did they really care that Adam had just saved the city either. Zeus is back! was yesterday¡¯s news to someone trying to get their stomach to stop aching with hunger today. What good was an Adam billboard ever going to do for her? ¡°If you¡¯ve got anything to spare, anything at all, I¡¯d really appreciate it. Even a dollar. I¡¯ll work, and¡­I¡¯ll¡­I¡¯ll even do anything you want, too.¡±


    She swallowed and winced, trying to smile, but all I saw were missing teeth and bleeding gums.


    ¡°The Rylee I knew wouldn¡¯t have cared right now. Bigger problems, remember? Let¡¯s get this moving!¡±


    The light finally turned red, shading the glistening asphalt and the shiny streets a deep crimson.


    I sighed a little, then turned to the girl. She backed away a little, the same hand she¡¯d used to tug at my clothes being raised in front of her, like I was gonna hurt her or grab her, and judging by the bruises on her throat¡­


    ¡°You guys don¡¯t mind soup, right?¡± I asked them. The boy lifted his head to look at me. ¡°I think it might be chicken, but she¡¯s also got this weird green stew mix. Gnarly stuff. But it¡¯s not that bad at the end of the day.¡±


    She stared at me, then nodded once, slowly, then nodded again. She put the boy in front of her. ¡°He¡­he can eat first. I don¡¯t mind anything else. Just, uhm, get him back to me? I¡¯ll be here. Just¡­please get him full.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you also want to eat?¡± I asked her.


    She nodded, then shook her head. ¡°We need the money. I have work that I sometimes do, and¡ª¡±


    I put my hand on her shoulder and shook her a little. ¡°Between you and me, I think you deserve the day off.¡± I jerked my head for her to follow me across the road. She stood there on the street, staring at me through the gloomy downpour. Cars beeped and taxi drivers yelled, and I gestured for her to follow me, and I¡¯ll be honest, I wasn¡¯t used to having people clinging to me as they crossed the street, let alone a little kid who wouldn¡¯t stop staring at me. It took her brother holding my hand for her to follow me across the road. She hung back a little, her head still low, her hand close to her brother, maybe because she was afraid I was lying, maybe because she thought I was going to try to run off with her brother. But it didn¡¯t take long before I had more than just two people with me.


    It started as a curious trickle of people, like gathering stray cats from alleyways. Maybe it was my face or something in my eyes, but I had blue contact lenses on, dampening as much of the glow in my eyes as possible. Right now, I just looked like Rylee Addams. Nobody that special. Then more of them got dragged along by their friends, even if they didn¡¯t particularly want to. Ava kept grumbling in my backpack, but I ignored her, because she wasn¡¯t in any kind of position to shove me along on whatever quest she had in mind anymore. I was in control now.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Even if that meant I had dozens of people following me curiously.


    I only found out how big the crowd following me was when I stopped at another junction, because suddenly, there were a lot more than just five people wanting to cross the road, but about twenty. What the hell am I, some kind of sheep dog? A lot of them were looking at me through their hair or from just underneath the brim of their hoodies and hats. When I glanced at them, they quickly looked away, like they were embarrassed for even being here. A lot of these kids were younger than me, or somewhere around my age. The few older than me hung around the back, their heads the lowest and their hands deepest in their pockets. The first girl I had met was also looking at the crowd, just as stunned, because when she looked at me, she smiled again, lips still tightly pressed together before she looked away, too. That¡¯s when I slowly started noticing the shining lights illuminating us.


    It was from a larger tv screen behind a reinforced store window. Fewer people around this part of the city were brave enough to stand and gawk, but as we waited for the red light to turn on, all I could do was stare at the screen. Every so often it would douse us all in different colors. Red, blue, white, and the brightest of all: gold.


    Because that was me in the window¡¯s reflection and passed that to the broadcast showing Olympia. Some special segment that flipped through pictures and videos, all from phones and cameras, of me skimming through the sky and past the sky scrapers, a dart of golden light that would vanish from view just as quickly as it would appear.


    And then, finally, a picture of me. The picture of me. Grinning and in costume, crouched, just about to fly. Ready to take off as a crowd of people had huddled around me. I couldn¡¯t even remember when that was taken. All the banner underneath the picture read over and over again was: She¡¯s Back. The Golden Girl Shines Once More.


    My heart was slow in my chest, thumping hard against my ribcage. Turns out they do kinda care, Ry.


    I looked back at the girl standing beside me, her eyes shining with the glow from the TV screen. ¡°You know,¡± she whispered, voice catching a little, stuttering for a moment. ¡°You look a lot like Olympia, by the way.¡±


    ¡°If we didn¡¯t know any better,¡± an older boy said quietly, ¡°you probably are.¡±


    I swallowed past the lump in my throat and shrugged. ¡°Just a coincidence.¡±


    ¡°E-even if you¡¯re not,¡± the girl whispered. ¡°Thanks for coming back.¡±


    ¡°I¡­Well, she wasn¡¯t a great superhero anyway,¡± I said. ¡°Didn¡¯t really help a lot of people either.¡±


    ¡°She was always here, though,¡± another boy with darker skin said. ¡°Scared off the bad guys.¡±


    ¡°So yeah,¡± the other boy said. ¡°Not bad. She¡¯s, you know, pretty cool or whatever.¡± The other boys shoved him a little, making fun of him until he started blushing. I couldn¡¯t help but smile and turn back to face the street.


    The little boy holding onto my fingers squeezed them a little tighter, and I made a spark light up his face. Just enough juice to make him tense and then look up at me. I winked as the light turned red, making him gasp.


    There was a soup kitchen nestled amongst the smoke-smothered apartment buildings close to the industrial sides of the city. The stores were squatting around here, close to the ground as if they¡¯re ducking from the smoke drifting in the sky. It¡¯s a place I¡¯ve only ever seen through pictures, and once before high, high up in the sky a few years ago. By the time I got there, though, it was full enough for some people to be sitting outside the kitchen, the rain now a thing of the past. Still cold enough to keep our breaths steaming around us like smoke of our own, but as soon as the smell of food and bread reached their noses, I was just a bystander to the steady flowing rush of kids too hungry to think straight. At least, until they got to the large glass doors and collectively paused, stopping short of entering.


    So I did them all a favor and pushed the doors open for them, taking away whatever thought they had that they weren¡¯t welcome around here. And c¡¯mon, the place was huge. Large enough for them all to find places to sit.


    For all I knew, this was probably the warmest place they¡¯d been since before the Kaiju attack.


    The little boy that had clung to my fingers seemingly didn¡¯t want to let go yet. He stared at the people ladling out stew and handing out bread, at the forty or so other people already eating, hunched over bowls and plates. Neither him nor his sister took a step forward, not until I found a place for them to sit and got them food. The hard part of my night was about to get a lot harder, and my stomach was in knots as I watched the siblings wolf down the food in front of them. Maybe a little too fast, because the boy started hacking up a cough that ended up with him in a laughing fit because his sister made a face at him. I ruffled his hair and stood up, nervous as hell.


    ¡°Y-you¡¯re leaving?¡± the girl asked me. Her face slowly dropped, then she shook her head. ¡°Sorry. I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hey, you know that old coffee place near the boardwalk?¡± I asked her. ¡°There used to be comics there.¡±


    She thought for a moment, then said, ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯d be allowed in there.¡±


    ¡°Just knock on the door and ask for Rylee. If I¡¯m not there, just tell the old guy where you¡¯ll be.¡± I smiled and offered her a fist, which she tentatively bumped, and now she was the one fighting off a smile. ¡°I¡¯ll find you.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Olympia,¡± the little boy said, his mouth full of soupy bread.


    It made me pause, and not just me, but my heart, too. I looked at him.


    And he looked at me, grinning so wide that soup dribbled down his chin. I shook my head and ruffled his messy hair, then asked, ¡°I guess you¡¯ve got a nickname for me, since I¡¯m not her, you know. But what are yours?¡±


    ¡°Amanda,¡± the girl said. ¡°And he¡¯s Bryce.¡±


    ¡°And you two are great,¡± I said. ¡°If you need a job, just stick around here, alright?¡±


    ¡°Oh. I¡­uhm, I¡¯d need somewhere away from Bryce to¡­well¡ª¡±


    ¡°Amanda,¡± I said, leaning across the table and patting the back of her hand. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, I promise.¡±


    Something on her face hardened that little bit more, and a part of me figured that it probably wasn¡¯t the first time that she¡¯d heard those words come out of someone¡¯s mouth. I couldn¡¯t do much about that right now, or anything to the people who¡¯d said those words to her as they¡¯d taken her into some filthy little apartment, and I had already broken far too many promises to count, but if there¡¯s one thing I¡¯ve learnt recently, it¡¯s that I¡¯m stupid. Not stupid stupid, but stupid in the way that I probably don¡¯t know when to give up. I¡¯m a sucker for the hero stuff.


    So I¡¯d just have to try again this time, and do a much better job.


    It¡¯s what Rhea deserved from me, anyway.


    I left her smiling into her bowl of soup, the faintest of tears shining on her cheeks getting hurriedly wiped away on the back of her gloved hand. The rest of the kids might have been wet and reeked of the streets of Lower Olympus, but who cared, really? I mean, Rhea would have said¡­ But that wasn¡¯t the point of me coming here. I shook my head a little and headed into the kitchen, or I would have if a burly guy serving up soup didn¡¯t stop me in my tracks. I figured it would happen eventually. I looked just as tired and wet, smelling of sweat and grime, just like the dozens of people chattering behind me. This time, when my stomach tensed, it wasn¡¯t because of being afraid.


    It was because I just heard a voice that was probably going to chew me out very soon.


    ¡°Hey, kid, I know you might be hungry, but you¡¯ve gotta eat with everyone else. Just a policy,¡± he said.


    I didn¡¯t move when he gently tried to turn me around. I doubt even a fist to the face from Cherry could.


    The door behind him opened, briefly letting the steam and the laughter and the overwhelming smells of simmering stew and boiling soup wash over me in a sticky, humid wave. Then a girl wearing a purple bandanna paused at the door, her hair tied back and her lips still pulled in a smile as she carried a tray of freshly baked bread in her arms. The smile dropped, and she would have probably dropped the tray of hot as well if I hadn¡¯t just caught it.


    ¡°Hey, Em,¡± I said, smiling nervously, handing the tray to the guy beside us. ¡°Long time no see.¡±

 Issue #52: The Actress and the Superhero

    I couldn¡¯t remember the last time Emelia and I had sat down together in perfect silence. I¡¯d kinda gotten used to being at her throat for saying something that would get under my skin, but I guessed if you spent a few months away from someone, you might realize you missed them or whatever. So there we sat on the curb behind the soup kitchen, the breeze achingly cold and the wind tossing out hair into our faces. But we didn¡¯t say a single thing. She sat there, her palms behind her and her legs crossed, staring across the street and into a nearly empty parking lot.


    I chose not to say anything, because I didn¡¯t really know what to begin with in the first place. Sorry I left for a few months and said you weren¡¯t a superhero, but how¡¯ve you been? That wouldn¡¯t work. Just doesn¡¯t cut it. I could apologize to her, but every time I was about to speak, every time I glanced at her, her jaw would be tense and her eyes would be firmly locked onto the wet concrete in front of us. Not moving. Barely breathing. She tapped her finger slowly against the pavement, each of them making a small purple spark leap into a puddle, smothering it.


    She had her apron slung over her shoulder, her bare arms open to the wind. The arm she had broken in the 12th Avenue fight looked perfectly fine, if not for the faint scar that ran from her wrist to her elbow. Is she bigger?


    Em had always been toned, fit¡ªspeedsters always tended to be that way, but I swore she wasn¡¯t¡ª


    ¡°Two months, blondie,¡± she whispered. Emelia didn¡¯t look at me. Instead, her focus was squarely on the stray dogs lurking through the city, now with a lot more food to find in the rubble of apartment buildings. ¡°Two.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I said quietly, pulling my leg up so I could rest my elbow on my knee. ¡°I fucked up.¡±


    ¡°I thought you died.¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯m here now, right?¡± I said, looking at her. Still nothing. ¡°That¡¯s gotta count for something.¡±


    And yes, she did finally look at me, but it almost felt like I was staring into a stranger¡¯s eyes¡ªlooking at a stranger¡¯s face. ¡°I looked for you, you know that? I spent weeks looking for you. Every single criminal in this city, turns out, doesn¡¯t even want to say your name, so I kept running and running, hoping that I¡¯d at least find someone who could tell me where you went.¡± Emelia looked away again and blinked slowly, massaging her temples as she did. ¡°And I found nothing. Not a single word about you. Not where you went or what happened. Not even a body.¡±


    I watched as her words drifted off into silence, leaving the wind to fill the quietness for a moment, because I knew what she meant, and I knew exactly what she was saying. For her, it wouldn¡¯t be the first time she¡¯d have to carry an empty casket on her shoulder, all before the age of twenty, too. It was my turn to look away, waiting for her to keep talking but knowing very, very well where this was going. This odd feeling inside my gut only grew larger the longer we stayed like this, making me feel sick and heavy. Give me a supervillain to fight and I¡¯d smile doing it.


    Tell me to sit down and talk with my friends, and suddenly fighting Witchling seems more fun.


    ¡°At least the coffin wouldn¡¯t have to be that big, right, if there wasn¡¯t anybody in it,¡± I said, laughing dryly, but she looked at me¡ªreally, really stared at me, making it feel as if her eyes were burrowing into my chest.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t even know what to tell Bianca,¡± she whispered. Em swore and shook her head, then tilted her chin up toward the sky and laughed bitterly. ¡°Ay dios m¨ªo, Rylee. I kept wanting to tell her. I kept bracing myself to say it to her, not that her best friend might be dead, but because Olympia was going to be buried in the same grave.¡±


    I picked lint off my jeans. Didn¡¯t have it in me to look at her properly, or to consider the fact that I was more willing to try to save Bianca than actually go and see her, too. Em wasn¡¯t the easier option, but she was the option that wouldn¡¯t be as hard of a landing. Gods, isn¡¯t that hilarious. A girl who could blitz through a monster made from flesh and humans, organs and tentacles and turn it into paste a few seconds later, couldn¡¯t talk to a girl.


    ¡°What¡­¡± Stop being such a coward for once. ¡°Does she know?¡±


    Emelia stared at me. ¡°You haven¡¯t called her since you came back? Or texted her? Seen her?¡±


    ¡°I just got back!¡± I said. ¡°And besides¡­It¡¯s not like I had been planning on vanishing.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Emelia said, looking me over. ¡°I guess you weren¡¯t.¡±


    Silence lingered for a moment, and I knew what that meant I should start doing. I sighed inwardly and looked up at the smoke-filled sky, at the eternal darkness so perfectly quiet. ¡°I wanted to save the city from the Kaiju. About a week or so before I went missing, I got into this fight with Adam. That guy who looks like dad. I beat him to hell and back, I¡¯ll be honest, but he also saved my mom before I could get killed. And ever since then, it¡¯s kind of felt like I haven¡¯t really woken up yet. Like I¡¯m still asleep underneath all of that rubble, and any moment now I¡¯ll wake up in the dark and think, ¡®That was a hell of a dream. Thank God none of that actually happened.¡¯ But I don¡¯t wake up, and I don¡¯t find my way out of the dark, so I know all of this is real, and Gods, I hate that it is.¡±


    ¡°You seem a little different,¡± she said quietly. ¡°A lot more¡­you. The old you¡±


    ¡°Hm,¡± I hummed, staring at the water-covered concrete shining yellow because of the street lights. All alone out here tonight, silence and serenity and a cold breeze, but my hand wouldn¡¯t stop twitching and neither would my foot stop bouncing, because right about now there was always something that happened. A surprise or a twist, some grotesque murder I¡¯d have to just file away to process when I had the time, or if I ever did have the time.


    At the rate that things go in my life, I doubted I would actually ever have that time at all.


    ¡°And that¡¯s not as good of a thing that I used to think it was,¡± she said, looking away. ¡°I had a lot of time to think when you were gone. A lot of time to think, and all I could think about was that everything from middle school to high school to right now, the last thing I ever did for you was run away. I stood up, and I fucking ran.¡±


    ¡°I kind of yelled at you to,¡± I muttered. ¡°But that wasn¡¯t fair, ¡®cause you were just trying to help.¡±


    ¡°Sure, but you were also right.¡± Em flexed her fingers, clenching and unclenching the hand that had been broken and limp a few months ago. ¡°I¡¯ve broken bones before. You trip and fall at the speeds I run, and a snapped wrist is like a skid knee eventually, but that day was different, because I was afraid, Ry. Honest to God afraid of not being fast enough to fight, or even to run away. You get so used to the villains you¡¯re fighting to read off a script and have a big evil plan that gets beaten by the end of the season that everything in your life is like a play. Lights, camera, action, and then the applause, because you just saved the world, and I got high off of that feeling and forgot that the shit you go through is the real shit that I kept forcing you to knuckle on with for months on end, Rylee.¡±


    I shrugged one shoulder, even if what she was saying left a mark. ¡°Either that or homelessness, Sparky.¡±


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°I could have bought you a condo on the Upper West instead, and you know that.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, of course I know that, but I didn¡¯t ask you for one for a reason.¡±


    ¡°Rylee¡ª¡±


    ¡°Emelia,¡± I said flatly. Silence. ¡°Remember the first time you found out I had powers?¡±


    She tilted her head, leaving her hair to flow over her shoulder. ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°So it was the first time in my life I¡¯d seen a superhero be a superhero right in front of my eyes.¡± I looked at Emelia and gently poked her arm. ¡°Yeah, sure, I threw that old English teacher through a window, but you were busy making sure that nobody in class got hurt in the process. For a long time, I kinda thought you did it to hide my identity, then I thought, ¡®Wait a sec, she doesn¡¯t know who I really am.¡¯ It took me a few years to figure that out, and when you got the big tv series contract, I figured you did it because it would mean everyone in school would finally give the down on her luck chick from Lower Olympus some kind of recognition, then I figured that¡¯s also wrong, and I tell you why?¡± I smiled at her and bumped her shoulder. ¡°Because that was the day that Electra became a thing for real, right there in that classroom. She never existed until your first thought was to save a bunch of kids who made fun of you everyday for how you spoke or how you dressed¡ªa bunch of kids who hated you just because of who you were, and yet you grabbed every single one of them, all because that was just how you ticked.¡±


    But that¡¯s also wrong, isn¡¯t it? Electra was always somewhere inside of you, wasn¡¯t she?


    I leaned back on my hands again, stretching out my legs. ¡°Me? I just did it ¡®cause I was pissed.¡±


    ¡°What are you trying to say?¡± she asked me.


    ¡°I¡¯m getting at this: I don¡¯t deserve nice things.¡±


    ¡°You need to start being more kind to yourself,¡± she said, sliding her hand along my back, patting it, then putting her hand on my shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re a hero, Rylee. Doesn¡¯t matter why you started being one. You still are.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°I wasted two months of my life accomplishing things that nobody will ever care about. I can keep pretending all I want, Em, but I¡¯m not good at this. It¡¯s¡­exhausting, and I kind of want to make it all stop.¡±


    ¡°Are you going to go on another tangent about the ¡®humans¡¯ again?¡±


    ¡°Gods, please don¡¯t remind me of that,¡± I muttered. ¡°But the truth is that I want to give it another go. A better go. Ever since summer, people kept looking at me like I was a tool. Like this thing they could use to fix all their problems, and somewhere along the way, it¡¯s almost like I enjoyed it, because it somehow meant to me that I was being useful. Look at Zeus¡¯ daughter, saving the day in new and creative ways, but all I was really doing was fucking up time after time, and then things changed, and then people needed me. They needed me to save them.¡±


    ¡°And did you save them?¡± she asked quietly.


    ¡°No,¡± I said, my voice dropping. ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Do you want to talk about it?¡±


    I smiled a little and glanced at her. ¡°I¡¯m still me. I don¡¯t sit around and talk about my feelings much.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll need to eventually. That kind of stuff eats you alive.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, said who?¡±


    ¡°The girl sitting next to me,¡± she said. ¡°I can see it in your eyes, Ry. In the way you¡¯re talking. I¡¯m happy that you¡¯re not going to give up, but I¡¯m also kind of afraid that you¡¯re making a casket out of your costume.¡±


    ¡°If I ever die in it, it¡¯ll be the awesomest thing you¡¯d ever see,¡± I said, but seeing her face, the worry that wrinkled the space between her brows, I stopped the dry laughter and swallowed bitter saliva. I cleared my throat and let the quietness linger for a moment before I continued. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. Just gotta keep the old head up high.¡±


    Emelia sighed and took her hand off my back, letting it fall to her side. ¡°Blind hope isn¡¯t healthy.¡±


    I bumped her with my shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s a lot healthier than giving up.¡±


    She stayed silent.


    ¡°Em,¡± I said, my voice a lot more level now, because I wasn¡¯t meant to come here for a long time, because there was still things I needed to do and a girl I needed to save, because it doesn¡¯t end in my life, and I doubted it ever would end until I fixed everything. ¡°I just need you to tell me that I¡¯m doing the right thing. You always knew how to do that. You never over complicated it. You saved the day and made it the thing that everyone our age just wanted to do because you made it trendy. Heck, my rent was just part of the reason I listened to you. A part of me knew that you got things right when it mattered because all that should matter is saving the day and that¡¯s it.¡±


    She smiled tiredly. ¡°We were kids, Ry. It was simpler back then.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what we like telling ourselves,¡± I said. ¡°But it wasn¡¯t. If it was, Sabine would still be here.¡±


    Emelia paused for a moment, then sighed quietly. She combed her fingers through her hair, then rested her forehead on the palm of her hand. ¡°Whatever happened to you these past few months made you a lot smarter.¡± She let her hand fall and tilted her head upward, shutting her eyes as she breathed out. ¡°You came back so you could leave again, is that it? You wanted my approval this time so you could at least tell yourself you said goodbye if things don¡¯t go to plan.¡± She looked at me, her amber eyes glowing in the soft yellow light. ¡°That¡¯s it, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°You got me,¡± I said, smiling. ¡°I¡¯ll be honest, Em. Being Olympia makes being Rylee harder every day that I¡¯m not myself. But wearing a costume means solving problems, and I need that right now. I really, really need it.¡±


    ¡°You feel like it¡¯ll make life simpler, having that symbol on your chest guiding you along.¡±


    ¡°Lightning doesn¡¯t move in a straight line, but it does always go somewhere eventually.¡±


    Em shook her head and laughed, this time not so dryly. ¡°You want my opinion, Blondie?¡±


    ¡°Give it to me, Sparky.¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re not okay deep down, and I think being Olympia is your way of hiding from yourself.¡±


    We sat in silence for a while, Emelia still looking up at the sky, and myself staring at her. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and looked away, scratching the back of my head as the air dropped another few degrees until our breaths turned to steam and it felt like my heart was trying to break free from the glass cage that was my chest.


    ¡°You¡¯re one hell of an actress,¡± she said quietly to the sky. ¡°And you¡¯re waiting for someone to yell cut, because you don¡¯t like who you¡¯re pretending to be anymore, but here comes the next act, so you get to change, but you know how the script always goes¡ªdeath, disaster, tragedy and bloodshed. But when the curtains finally close, you¡¯re going to be smiling, even as you lie there dead on stage in a pool of your own blood, because you gave the people everything they wanted, and they¡¯re all clapping, cheering your name, because you¡¯re their hero.¡± Emelia stood up, then offered me a hand. I took it, and we faced each other, our breaths lacing in the stiff breeze as she stared at me. ¡°And if you came here for advice, all I can tell you is that you¡¯re doing a pretty damned good job so far, Rylee, but I guess it¡¯s not over, is it, because when is it ever?¡± Her voice was hoarse and light, almost tentative as she squeezed my shoulder and walked past me, saying, ¡°Be the hero you know you are, there¡¯s your simple answer.¡±


    I breathed through my mouth for several seconds, listening to her sneakers pat against the concrete. Then I turned around and said, ¡°Hey, Em?¡± She stopped and looked over her shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll come back, you know I will.¡±


    Emelia simply smiled. ¡°Good luck, Blondie,¡± she said, turning around again. ¡°You¡¯ve got your people to save and I¡¯ve got mine, but if you ever need saving, then we¡¯re always open to anyone. I¡¯ll keep the light on and a bowl hot just for you, because I know I can¡¯t stop you from leaving again, and I know if I try to interfere or find out where you¡¯re going or why I¡¯ll just be slowing you down, so I¡¯ll text you and I¡¯ll call you, and it¡¯s up to you if you want to call me back or talk to me.¡± She stopped before entering through the soup kitchen¡¯s side door, standing underneath a pale white security light, hand on the metal handle. ¡°A few months ago you said that it was getting hard to tell which life you were living, about who was who, but you¡¯ve been living the same life this whole time. All you¡¯ve been doing is putting on different faces. It¡¯s just that one of them is afraid, and the other one is you.¡±


    She left me standing in the cold, panting a little as the rain slowly began falling onto the street. Be the hero I know I can be. But¡­that¡¯s what I¡¯m trying to do, isn¡¯t it? Being good, being different. A new Olympia.


    I was trying to save my best friend, starting as soon as Emelia closed the door behind her. But not entirely, because the door was ajar, and the scent of hot soup slipped through the gap. She¡¯d left it open on purpose. Your choice now, Ry. I took a step forward, and grabbed my backpack off the ground, slinging it over my shoulder.


    I sighed and shut my mouth with a click, my teeth smacking together. ¡°Alright,¡± I muttered to myself, turning around and facing the empty roads ahead of me. The dark buildings and the shadows that lingered under every single light I saw in front of me. ¡°Time to put on a serious face, superhero. Bianca needs a hero right now.¡±


    Or Rylee, but¡­


    Well, she could have¡ªshould have¡ªbeen there when it mattered.


    It was Olympia¡¯s turn to step in.

 Issue #53: The Death of Katie Clear

    The last thing Bianca needed right now was a superhero. A couple of waiters would be better, she thought, hunched over the day¡¯s garbage that had turned into a stew of stenches for her to breathe in. She finally got the knot tight enough on the garbage bag to not have it spill onto the floor again, just as laughter and hooting cheers erupted at the front of the restaurant. Bianca glanced upward, sweat stinging her eyes, because there came Zeus walking into the restaurant with his plastic grin and thick hair, his oversized costume and bulky awkward muscles flexing for the little kid standing in front of him. The kid dropped his vanilla ice cream in awe, which was great! Because that was probably going to be Bianca¡¯s problem later, too. The rest of the workers were too busy clapping and singing along to notice, which was fine¡ªnobody liked a buzzkill, so she slung the garbage bag over her shoulder and walked out.


    The rain had stopped just a few minutes ago, but that didn¡¯t make the walk toward the dumpsters across the parking lot any easier. It was still frigid, and her breath turned to gasping mist as she shouldered the lumpy bag of leftovers and dumped it inside of the dumpster. She slammed the lid shut and groaned, stretching her arms over her head and working the ache out of her back. From all the way out here, she couldn¡¯t hear anything from the diner.


    Which was probably for the better. Mikey had come up with some song he¡¯d written about the great and mighty Zeus that he¡¯d forced everyone to learn when they were on break, including Bianca. Why have a birthday when half the city is in ruin right now? When people are screaming for their kids in every other news video people keep posting? Ask her boss, who¡¯s kid is having the time of his freaking life right now getting lifted up by Jim in an old costume that had smelt like milk when Mikey had first brought it into the store. Bianca wasn¡¯t even meant to be here tonight, because, you know, people kind of have other things on their mind right now that didn¡¯t include half price burgers and slushies for kids under ten. Whatever, she thought, sliding her phone out of her pocket. The kid¡¯s having fun, so fine. Hell, the only good thing to happen tonight was the breaking news making her phone vibrate.


    Which was probably some of the biggest breaking news ever since Adam saved the city.


    Olympia was back¡ªshe was bleeding and bruised and was barely strong enough to stand.


    But the Golden Girl was back.


    Bianca thought she¡¯d be thrilled, maybe ecstatic¡ªHarper kept sending her headline after headline, so excited herself that she¡¯d stopped making fun of Bianca for having a crush on Zeus¡¯ daughter, but you know what?


    She didn¡¯t really care.


    She was happy, sure. Maybe relieved was a better way to say what she was feeling.


    But Rylee was gone. Just¡­gone. No calls. No texts. She¡¯d had to do her own digging, trying to find where she had moved to when she¡¯d split from her mom, and she¡¯d found it in no time flat. But she wasn¡¯t there either.


    Rylee Addams was a ghost, this thing that was becoming kind of like a fleeting memory. Her phone would cook up a collage of pictures of them at summer camps together, and she¡¯d think, I wonder if I left her there as kids.


    Because ever since high school ended, she¡¯d just stopped being her, like somewhere along the way, through the countless arguments and locker slamming, mutterings in the hallways and blind-siding, she just¡­left.


    ¡°Hey loser,¡± a voice said. Bianca jumped and spun around, then swore quietly when she saw Katie leaning against the dumpster, arms folded and wrapped up warm in a scarf and jacket and comfy brown boots. ¡°Angsting?¡±


    ¡°No, I wasn¡¯t angsting. I was just thinking about things.¡± Bianca stuffed her phone back into her pocket, only after she fumbled to quickly do it for a few seconds. ¡°How¡¯d you even get here? I thought you were at home.¡±


    She shrugged one shoulder. ¡°My Bianca senses were tingling.¡±


    ¡°You sound like Ben.¡±


    Katie grinned. ¡°Why thank you.¡± She put her arm around Bianca¡¯s shoulder and slowly led her back to the diner, where its red and white neon glow was pushing the parking lot¡¯s shadows away. ¡°Now, I know your mom kind of has a bit of a problem with me hanging out with you, but on the other hand, I was thinking you and I should go do something fun tonight, like the good old days when you weren¡¯t so freaking boring and normal all the time, B.¡±


    They stopped just in front of the back entrance. ¡°You mean when I started working a normal job?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that. Stop doing that, you¡¯re sapping up all the air in the room.¡±


    ¡°Did you miss the part when I almost got killed by freaking assassins? Because I can show you the scars.¡±


    Katie poked her in the ribs. ¡°I was the one who came to kiss them better, anyway. But it¡¯s fine. Besides, do you really want to spend the whole night mopping floors and keeping sticky little brats out of the kitchen? Or do you want to hang out with Aunt K for a few hours doing something a lot more fun? Mickey wouldn¡¯t even notice.¡±


    Bianca sighed and glanced at the metal door, where even more cheering just came from. The other workers had probably just arrived in their Cleopatra, Hekka, and Hermes costumes. And don¡¯t forget Shrike, who¡¯ll appear when the lights suddenly turn off and then back on again, handing out candy from his many, many belt pockets. ¡°I think he would. If nobody¡¯s manning literally the entire kitchen, then I¡¯m pretty sure there¡¯s gonna be a fire, Kates.¡±


    The hair sticking out from just underneath her beanie danced in the wind as Katie put her hands on her hips and tilted her head. ¡°You¡¯re so stubborn that it¡¯s honestly kind of impressive. What¡¯ll it take for you to leave?¡±


    Bianca came up with an idea as she pushed open the back door, amping up the noise of children screaming to eleven. She smiled and jerked her head, then said, ¡°How ¡®bout an unpaid shift flipping patties and making fries?¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound half as fun as what I had planned.¡±


    ¡°We can do whatever you want after you help me with what I¡¯ve got to do first, fair?¡±


    Bianca knew Katie well enough to know that a smile and a nudge was good enough to get her moving, and it only took a few minutes before she had Katie muttering under her breath as she watched over the newest batch of fries frothing away in their tubs of oil. Nobody else came into the kitchen, meaning that both of them were reduced to the girls getting shouted at by Mickey every once in a while to keep the food coming, even if the guy didn¡¯t recognize that some random lady was now helping Bianca do that whilst every other worker was dressed up in those oversized (and slightly smelly, if she was being honest) Olympian costumes. Then, like clockwork, it happened.


    The light suddenly turned off when Mickey ¡®went to the bathroom,¡¯ and everything went silent.


    Which kind of sucked when you¡¯re trying to see what the difference is between a handle and the grill.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on now?¡± Katie asked her quietly, as Bianca tried not to swear when she burnt her finger.


    She shrugged, squinting to see the outline of Katie¡¯s hard jaw and feline-like eyes. The kids were muttering and giggling amongst each other, accusing each other of being afraid of the dark, and the several mothers and tired fathers still here kept looking around asking questions to the Olympians. Phone flashlights turned on, and soon enough the mutters became a lot louder and longer and¡­Where was Shrike? Blackouts had gotten common ever since the Kaiju fight, especially down here in Lower Olympus. But as Bianca slowly walked toward the register, her hands on the counter as she peered through the slats on the windows, she was sure as hell there was light outside.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Because shadows don¡¯t just appear in the dark¡ªonly light can make them do that.


    And right there on the largest window was a figure, some dark outline of a person that came and then went when the vomit-yellow security lights outside flickered. What¡¯s going on? Bianca glanced at the bathroom, where Mickey should have slipped out of by now, dressed in his Shrike costume to surprise the daylight out of his son.


    The silence only stretched a lot longer and longer, until not even the kids were talking. But the figure was gone, and Bianca must have been imagining it. She¡¯d seen those shadows at home and back in her dorm room at school when it was still open before the Kaiju attack. Remnants of nightmares from nearly getting gutted open.


    At least, she hoped they were just shadows.


    ¡°Is this part of the show or what?¡± Katie whispered. ¡°Kind of sucks, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    Charlie, the poor girl who¡¯d been forced into the sweaty Ares costume, plodded over to the register and removed her costumed head, making a few kids gasp and more than a few parents hiss at her to put the mask back on. Emily, being who she was, shot them a glare before turning to Bianca. ¡°Where¡¯s Mickey? Ain¡¯t he supposed to come out here and end this crap by now? I¡¯ve already missed my bus home, and now he wants to play more tricks?¡±


    Victoria¡ªwho wasn¡¯t even an employee here and kinda just liked hanging out with Bianca¡ªremoved her plastic Cleopatra mask and leaned against the counter. ¡°What¡¯s the possibility he got stuck pulling the zipper up?¡±


    ¡°High,¡± both Charlie and Bianca muttered.


    Vic and Charlie looked at her, and she looked back at them. Of course. She sighed and headed to the men¡¯s bathroom, leaving Charlie to tell the kids and the parents that they should all play a game that didn¡¯t involve looking at anything that way of the diner. Katie followed, like she always tended to do ever since 12th Avenue, and just like then, she barely heard her footsteps touching the ground. Sometimes it felt like she was floating along just above the floor, and more often than not, when Bianca glanced over her shoulder, it kind of looked like her eyes were glowing. Not sharply and not brightly, but just enough to make Bianca stare for a moment until Katie smiled.


    She stopped outside of the bathroom and knocked. ¡°Hey, boss?¡± she said quietly. ¡°Need the oil again?¡±


    Bianca waited several moments, hearing nothing in return apart from the gurgle of tap water. Then Katie nudged her shoulder and pointed at the foot of the door, where pale blue light was making several shadows stretch.


    Katie slid between Bianca and the door and opened it, and¡­


    Nothing. Completely empty. The door whined on its hinges as Katie forced it open. It reeked of urine and cigarette smoke, fatty grease and blocked drainage. Katie walked inside and turned off the tap, making it silent. The floor was wet. The ceramic tiles shone with the sickly fluorescent lights above. But everything was plane normal.


    Where the hell is Mickey?


    There weren¡¯t a lot of windows that could fit his family pack of a gut, and the stalls were empty.


    ¡°Hey, Bianca?¡± Katie said quietly, standing in the furthest stall¡ªthe one that everyone dreaded cleaning, just because of the sole bulb that flickered above it, the graffiti engraved on the walls and the stains that seemingly fought an impossible battle. But Bianca followed, her stomach slowly turning as she looked over her shoulder. She froze. Then she needed to puke, had to puke. She slapped her hand over her mouth to force herself to swallow her vomit, but not to scream, but holy fuck, holy fuck¡ªshe turned around and wretched, because Katie just rolled up her sleeve and fished around inside the overflowing toilet bowl, and came up with exactly what was making the floor so wet and slippery. Katie didn¡¯t say anything as she held the thing in her hand at arm¡¯s length, still dripping wet. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure,¡± she whispered, looking at Bianca, ¡°that there was more attached to him just a minute ago.¡±


    Bianca vomited onto the floor, knuckled away her puke, then looked at the bruised, bleeding, battered mess dangling from Katie¡¯s fist. A head. Bianca shook her own and looked away, hands still on her knees, bending.


    That¡¯s my boss¡¯ freaking head!


    The lights turned off in the bathroom. Bianca immediately straightened, aching belly and raging blood in her ears be damned. She looked around, a hare in a snare or whatever the fuck metaphor her brain could come up with when it was so panicked she barely had enough sense to keep her hands from getting drenched with sweat.


    A shadow appeared near the door, because yeah, she¡¯d been wrong. Very, very wrong. Shadows could appear just fine without light. It stood there. Stood there and waited opposite Bianca with Katie to her right. She stared at them, and they stared at her¡ªshe was sure of it, something inside of her was screaming it. Then the sound of something metallic sliding along the floor screeched out into the silence, followed by a slew of sparks appearing along the ceramic tiles. Then nothing. No shadow. No silhouette or person. Katie was in front of her in a second, her fingers still curled through Mickey¡¯s weak toupee, his neck still spitting blood and the gory end of his throat still dangling around her calf like wet meat and oh, God, it just touched her leg. Grazed it, leaving behind a lick of dark and wet liquid staining into her jeans. And then the sound of running from the darkness in front of them echoed.


    The whine of something terribly sharp whistled through the air, suddenly stopping when it smacked into something just as dense. Something warm splattered onto her face, making Bianca gasp, because her mouth had been wide open, and now there was hot liquid iron running down her throat and making her blink faster and faster.


    The gristly sound of meat getting chewed by metal interrupted the hanging silence, followed by a gasp.


    ¡°Katie?¡± Bianca whispered.


    She heard a choke, a gasp, then a grunt as Katie stepped forward. And now she saw the shadow.


    Bianca saw them, the shadow and the silhouette. A shapely face and sharp, dangerous eyes, just like the ones she¡¯d seen in the shopping mall¡ªjust like the ones that had narrowed as they ordered for her to be killed. And now she watched Katie gasp in pain, stumble back, pressing Bianca against the wall as something sharp dug into Bianca¡¯s stomach¡­but how? Katie was in front of her. How the hell was something sharp digging into her gut? She wiped away the blood trickling into her eyes, trying her best to see through the bloody tinge settling into her eyes.


    Something was churning around her stomach, gurgling and frothing and making her skin itch.


    Then the figure stepped back, dragging their blade out of Katie and her stomach and out through her boss¡¯ skull, dropping them both onto the floor with a sickeningly wet thud, followed by the splattering of something wet and long and hot that oozed out of Katie like thick tubes of green pase. Bianca stood there, motionless. Stuck. Stiff. Her body didn¡¯t want to move and neither did her brain. She stared at the head that had been cleaved in two, and then at Katie. Katie. Katie, Katie, Katie, who she got down on her knees for amongst the steaming pile of organs and her limp arms and legs and awkwardly resting head, and then shook her shoulder gently, whispering her name again and again, because why was there so much warm liquid pooling around her on the floor right now? Must be from her boss¡¯s head. The guy had an ego so big it probably swelled his brain wayyy too big for his own good. Yep, that was right. Bianca read that in a book somewhere. Katie would explain it, right Katie? She just had to wake her up.


    It was just a little weird that her eyes were wide open, staring right at Bianca, but she was still asleep.


    Bianca sat on her haunches and wiped the sweat off her brow. She couldn¡¯t tell what color her sweat was on the back of her hand, but for some reason it was warm and sticky and reeked of iron. Must be really hot in here.


    Didn¡¯t matter.


    She looked at the figure standing over her, their sword dripping wet and their eyes narrowed. Then she stood, swaying onto her feet, strands of her hair coming loose from the ponytail she¡¯d kept it in during work, covering her eyes and part of her face, making her brush them aside as she stared at the shadow right opposite her.


    Bianca looked at the floor again, because something wasn¡¯t clicking. No, it wasn¡¯t. Just¡­like that?


    No, ¡®course not. It was a freaking Tuesday.


    Was it?


    Didn¡¯t matter.


    Katie wasn¡¯t doing so well, and she needed help right now, and some fucker was in her way. She should probably tell the people in the diner that they¡¯re closed because someone clogged the toilet. My knees are wet.


    Bianca wiped her hands on her jeans. Doesn¡¯t matter.


    Katie was dead. Just¡­dead. Nothing big. Just got stabbed through her chest, and now she was dead at her feet in a dingy fucking bathroom in the ass end of the city so far away from Ben¡¯s grave that it really didn¡¯t matter. Nothing had made this night feel weird, or off, or sick in the stomach the way it had when Ben had gone missing for the first day of several before he came back in bits and pieces in the arms of a dead superhero. No. Katie just came around to check on her niece. To check if she wanted to blow off work and do something fun, but it didn¡¯t matter.


    Why?


    Because Bianca wasn¡¯t thinking when she lunged at the shadow and sunk her teeth into its throat.

 Issue #54: And the Rebirth of Bianca Ross

    Bianca dragged herself off the corpse and dragged her arm across her mouth. Her head whined. She blinked slowly. What happened? She shook her head and stumbled, fell, and collapsed onto the floor. Then she vomited, coughing until her tongue was raw and her stomach heaved halfway up her throat. Blood splattered onto the tiles, mixing in with the growing pool of red spilling out from the body¡¯s torn open neck. Oh God. She stared at the body. Oh God. Bianca fell backward and dragged herself away, then her eyes locked onto Katie, lying there in a pool of dark red.


    She started panting as her head began whining with noise. Bianca froze, then she looked at her fingers, at the blood that made them shine under the fluorescent lights. Her pink work shirt was soaked. Her arms were covered in the stuff. The throat wasn¡¯t the only thing ripped open. The body¡¯s head wasn¡¯t even attached to the rest of it anymore. Their neck was a stump sputtering blood onto the floor, veins and arteries and spine laid out messily.


    The worst part was that Bianca couldn¡¯t see the head anywhere around her. Where it should have been was an explosion of blood and gore and cracked tiles. Her knuckles ached as she flexed her fingers, trying to wipe her hands clean on her jeans as she stumbled onto her feet. What happened? She backed against the sinks. What the fuck just happened! She ran a hand through her hair and slicked her curls onto her scalp, then the door opened.


    Charlie stood in the doorway, and it felt like an eternity staring at her standing there. She dropped the mascot head on the ground and slapped a hand over her mouth. Maybe not to scream, maybe not to vomit, but it didn¡¯t really matter. There wasn¡¯t anything Bianca could say. What the fuck could she say? She started breathing harder, making her gut flare with pain and her heart race even faster, because Katie still wasn¡¯t getting up, even though she should, shouldn¡¯t she? It¡¯s a fucking Tuesday. For some reason, that¡¯s what stuck with her. That¡¯s what kept circling through her mind as Victoria appeared beside Charlie, and for once, her facial expression shifted.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± Vic said, then pulled out her phone and dialed a number.


    Bianca, still feeling like everything was moving in frames, like she was in a slideshow, was suddenly right in front of her, Vic¡¯s wrist in her hand. Charlie yelped and stepped back, and Vic only blinked. ¡°No¡­no police.¡±


    But the cops should be here, right? I just fucking killed someone, right?!


    Vic tensed her jaw, then planted a fist into the side of her jaw. Bianca crumpled to her knees, dazed like a dog that¡¯s just gotten its brain whacked against its skull. ¡°Sit down and chill out, or I¡¯m gonna have to use force.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck?!¡± Charlie yelled. Vic slammed the bathroom door shut, keeping the smells and stenches and grisly sights for only them to see. ¡°Oh my God, oh my God! Is that a dead body?! IS THAT MARK¡¯S HEAD?!¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± Victoria barked at her. ¡°I¡¯m gonna use force on you, too, if you also don¡¯t relax.¡±


    Bianca, still on her knees, now holding herself, looked at her. ¡°Help Katie,¡± she whimpered. It was a sad, pathetic little voice that escaped her lips. The voice of the kid who¡¯s watched her big brother get buried as she held her mother¡¯s hand and pretended that her father wasn¡¯t crying behind his sunglasses. ¡°Please,¡± she said again, rocking back and forth, agony in her stomach feeling like a shard of ice in her guts. ¡°Please, Vic. You¡¯re a Supe, please, please just help her.¡± She only stopped talking because her crying halted the rest of her sentence, breaking it apart into shards she was left swallowing and gasping for, cutting up her throat until all she could do was wince.


    ¡°We¡¯re gonna get out of here, is what we¡¯ll do,¡± she said, putting the phone to her ear before she turned to Charlie, grabbed her wrist, and said, ¡°I need you to tell everyone to go home. Now. Unless you want kids to end up looking like ground beef patties soon.¡± Charlie didn¡¯t move. Couldn¡¯t move. Vic shoved her out of the bathroom and crouched in front of Bianca. She dragged her eyes off the floor, the tears sitting on her eyelids making her face blurry and misshapen. ¡°B, I need you to focus on me right now. Just me. Not Katie. Not anything else. If you feel anything¡­weird in your belly, tell me, because I¡¯ll probably have to use force, and that could get really ugly.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯re you calling?¡± Bianca said, trying very, very hard to gather herself.


    But how could she? Her aunt was lying dead in a pool of her own fucking organs.


    Ben and now Katie. What the hell are you even good for?


    ¡°Somebody,¡± Vic said. ¡°They¡¯ll clean this up.¡±


    ¡°What about¡ª¡±


    ¡°Katie¡¯s dead, Bianca.¡± The word hit her just as hard as Vic¡¯s fist had. Bianca¡¯s mouth snapped shut, and now all she could taste was blood sitting on her tongue and stuck between her teeth. ¡°And a lot of people are going to be dead soon if you don¡¯t stand up right now and get your act together. Let¡¯s get out of here, for your own good.¡±


    She offered Bianca a hand up.


    Bianca, instead, glanced over her shoulder, past the dead body, past the cratered ceramic, and toward the body slumped against the furthest wall. Katie¡¯s eyes were empty, glassy, and her skin was papery white. She kept staring at her. Kept thinking that¡­that¡­that she¡¯d somehow get back up again, because that same day Ben went under, she squeezed Bianca¡¯s shoulder and said, I¡¯ll protect you. I didn¡¯t protect him, but I¡¯ll protect you. Always.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    But Katie wasn¡¯t getting up this time. She¡¯d kept her promise, but she wasn¡¯t getting up this time.


    There wasn¡¯t anybody left to hold her hand anymore.


    And suddenly, she was cold all the way through.


    Bianca turned away, clenching her jaw so hard she thought she¡¯d crack a tooth, because she wanted to start crying again, or maybe scream for Katie until she had no other option but to get up and tell Bianca to stop being so afraid and start getting her legs underneath her. And that¡¯s what she did. That¡¯s what she forced herself to do, taking Vic¡¯s forearm and stumbling onto her feet. Vic didn¡¯t offer her a smile or a pat on the back, because she was already on the phone, the dial tone echoing in the foul silence of the bathroom. Bianca glanced into the mirrors beside her.


    And realized that each and every one of them was cracked beyond belief, nothing life before.


    There was a gap in her memory between sinking her teeth into a throat and when she got off their dead body, and a numb, distant, and very far away part of her figured that yeah, the mirrors, the cracked tiles, the doors that hang off their hinges and the shattered ceramic toilets are all because of her. When she¡¯d gone and killed them.


    God, what the hell am I?


    ¡°There would only be one reason why I¡¯m calling,¡± Vic was saying, a hand on her hip and her Cleopatra thigh-high boots tapping against the tiles. The blood hadn¡¯t reached the door yet, but had worked itself along the cracks of the ceramic, spreading like some kind of sickness. Another pang of ice cold pain rang through her gut. ¡°She¡¯s somewhat fine. Shaken and in shock. I think she¡¯ll puke at some point when the adrenaline is done with her body. No. Nothing yet.¡± Vic glanced at her, and Bianca stared back. ¡°I¡¯d be more sure if they had a head I could see, but she made sure there¡¯s nothing left¡­no¡­no, I¡¯m not sure if the thing ate it or she just destroyed it. Think it¡¯s them. Nobody else walks around dressed like that.¡± Then Vic walked toward the corpse and rolled it onto its back, pulling off their armor piece by piece as she wedged her phone between her ear and shoulder until she reached their back. Bianca stared over her shoulder as Vic pulled up their spandex under shirt, revealing a spiraling flock of birds tattooed along her spine. Victoria muttered under her breath as she stood again. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s them. They¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s here?¡± Bianca whispered numbly, tugging at Vic¡¯s short cape. ¡°Hey.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be there in ten. Yes, I¡¯ll make sure of it.¡± Then she paused, shut her eyes, and nodded. ¡°Not knowing where someone like that is doesn¡¯t help right now. If we bump into her, Talon isn¡¯t going to play that kind of game.¡±


    Bianca heard the voice crystal clear from the other end of the phone: ¡°She¡¯s an asset. We respected her wish for privacy unless she started thinking of us as untrustworthy. If you do meet her, inform her directly and clearly, but not without some hesitation. She¡¯s not had a pleasant time as of late, and news like this wouldn¡¯t help her cause.¡± A brief pause on the line, one that lasted way too long in the silence, and then: ¡°We cannot afford to lose Olympia, Victoria. Get here quickly. Don¡¯t spare neither an arrow head nor a dagger. Primary protocol, worse case scenario.¡±


    ¡°Got it,¡± Vic said, sighing as she cut the call, then threw the phone at her feet and crushed it.


    ¡°Who was that?¡± Bianca asked quietly, her head feeling even more woozy. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    And what¡¯s this got to do with Olympia?


    Charlie entered back into the bathroom, now out of her ridiculous costume. Back in shorts and a t-shirt, her orange curly hair and freckles pale under the lights, or maybe because she just finished puking. ¡°Gone,¡± she said.


    ¡°Good,¡± Vic answered, grabbing Bianca¡¯s wrist, pausing, then picking up the sword that had stabbed Katie through the gut. Bianca stared at the long silver blade, at the worn white handle and the blood dripping off the impossibly sharp edge. Then she looked at Bianca, mouth pulling into a thin line as she forced it into her hand.


    She would have dropped it on the floor if Vic didn¡¯t tightly wrap her fingers around it.


    ¡°Keep it,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re gonna need it.¡±


    ¡°But¡­.I don¡¯t¡­I need to call my mom.¡± It sprung out of her so fast that it paused Vic, stopping her from getting to the door. ¡°I need to call my mom and dad first. I don¡¯t¡­Vic I don¡¯t know¡­God, fuck, I feel like¡ª¡±


    Then she hurled, and all that came out of her mouth was chewed throat meat.


    Bianca remained hunched over, her gut aching a storm and her skin crawling. She retched again, her throat filling with bile that crawled out of her mouth like the vile, tiny little frantic tentacles of the Kaiju Adam killed.


    ¡°My aunt was right,¡± Charlie whispered. ¡°I shoulda just gone to college.¡±


    She dropped the blade, letting it smack against the tiles. Bianca clutched onto her stomach, digging her fingernails hard into her ribs until she fell onto her knees. Vic was saying something, shaking her shoulder. Charlie was beside her, in her ear, pulling hair out of her face. Sweat dripped off her brow, trickled down her forehead and got into her eyes, making them sting, making her blind, as the tentacles filled her throat and made her face burn hot with heat as she clawed her throat for oxygen. Her head whined like a burning kettle, getting louder and louder until all she could do was get on all fours and slam her skull against the floor. Again. And again. Her body moving on its own until Vic grabbed her wrist, but her arm jerked out, wrapped her fingers around Vic¡¯s throat, and threw her hard against the bathroom mirrors. Charlie got up, stumbled back, and got a fist to her gut that laid her out cold onto the floor. Then Bianca stood motionless, her stomach loosening and her skin not itching like it just had.


    There was silence, and there was warmth, and then there was noise coming from her right.


    She watched as Vic groaned and pressed a heavy knuckle to the floor as she got up, her braids loosening to glare at her.


    A sword of light erupted from her hand, making Bianca wince with pain as her skin flared and her blood tingled just underneath her skin. Something¡¯s wrong. The thought came after she planted her foot into Vic¡¯s nose, smacking her head against the wall underneath the busted sinks. The sword vanished. Her body slumped to the floor, and Bianca stood there, staring down at Vic, tilting her head, not really there, not really thinking as she took a step toward Katie and gathered her close to her chest and lifted her up off the floor. Then she walked out of the bathroom, death in her arms and bodies on the floor, not really knowing what was happening, or why her body felt so odd, so weird, like her blood was burning and her skin was itching, but none of that really mattered, did it?


    Because she was going to save Katie.


    It wouldn¡¯t be the first time death had stolen her. C¡¯mon, Kates, Ben thought¡­no, right, different body.


    And another chance at this to make things right.


    Bianca left the burger mart and stepped into the rainy night, planning to barter for a soul.


    She just needed to find a witch first.

 Issue #55: Partners In Crime

    It turned out that Ava stalking me and everyone I cared about was actually a good thing for once. I hadn¡¯t kept too many tabs on Bianca, and that was totally my fault, but it also kinda felt like I¡¯d blinked and summer was over, then I lost two months of my life that I¡¯d never get back. Whatever Ava was doing during those two months was beyond me, and quite frankly, the empty diner littered with broken glass and spots of blood makes it hard to concentrate.


    And seemingly, the NOPD came by to stick some loosely tied tape on the front doors and went to grab something to eat, but I guess with the city in the state that it was in, I didn¡¯t blame them for focusing on bigger issues, even though to me, this was the biggest problem I¡¯d faced in a while. Where¡¯s Bianca? All I got in return for my searching was more broken glass, burnt to a crisp fries in vats of oil in the back, and the lingering stink of blood in the air that wasn¡¯t coming from my backpack. I set Ava down on a table and breathed in deeply, catching the smell and following it toward the bathroom, where it kept getting stronger and stronger until my stomach tensed.


    It was still early enough in the morning to make the shadows long through the blinds over the windows, silent enough for every sound my sneakers made crunching over bits of broken glass to announce itself to the entire diner. Fear isn¡¯t something I¡¯m used to anymore. Not with the past few months under my belt. But I was getting used to feeling ill, sick with nerves, because Bianca¡¯s dead body would engrave itself into my mind forever, and I don¡¯t think there¡¯s any number of people I can save to ever wash my hands clean of that kind of guilt. So I breathed out slowly and braced myself before I entered the bathroom, because there¡¯s a trail of blood leading toward it all over the floor, a trickle in some places and a dash in others, like someone tossed a bucket of red onto the old carpet.


    When I finally open the bathroom door, there¡¯s nothing inside of it. I stood in the doorway, hand on the door itself to keep it open. No puddles of blood or dead bodies, no limbs or weird creatures bursting out of the toilets and the sewers underneath them. Broken mirrors to my right and cracked tiles under my shoes, but¡­not good enough, whoever tried to hide it. I could smell the disinfectant on the tiles, and when I crouched, doing something I thought I¡¯d never do, and put my nose close to the tiles, they reeked of chemicals and fresh soap.


    And something else. Something strange. Something that made my nose tingle.


    But nothing I¡¯d ever smelt before, at least, not anything I could put my mind to.


    I sighed and rested on one knee, searching the bathroom for literally anything that I could find that would help me look for her, but the broken glass and cracked tiles had been a staple of this joint since before last night.


    So even if there was a fight, I couldn¡¯t tell when it had been, anyway.


    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re not lying to me again?¡± I asked Ava, sitting back down in the booth and bringing her out of the bag. I set her on the table and pulled down the plastic bag I had kept her inside, because, you know, I kinda didn¡¯t want her blood soaking through my backpack. ¡°Because in case you haven¡¯t noticed, nobody¡¯s here.¡±


    She blinked slowly, opened her mouth, stretching her jaw, then said, ¡°I watched you, your mother, and the few friends you¡¯ve got for weeks on end to make sure I knew as much as I possibly could about you. So no, I wouldn¡¯t be lying to you, Rylee, because in case you haven¡¯t noticed, I don¡¯t have a body right now and wouldn¡¯t really benefit from not having your help!¡± I fold my arms and watch her pant, even if she doesn''t have the lungs to do that. Eventually, she calmed down enough to say, ¡°I¡¯m sorry about that. The past several hours have been¡­a little uncomfortable. And from what I can see, it looks like someone had come here looking for someone. Her.¡±


    I tensed my jaw a little. ¡°And how sure are you of that?¡±


    ¡°You can judge me all you like, but I grew up having to learn to watch my tracks and the hairs that could get my head put on someone¡¯s mantlepiece. The shattered glass inside and outside of the diner means the fight or the struggle kept going until it suddenly didn¡¯t anymore. No blood outside, either, so nothing that cut or hurt.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re telling me she got kidnapped and got swept into the night?¡± I said quietly.


    ¡°I¡¯m saying that I can¡¯t really tell.¡± Ava sighed, making blood sputter out from the stump of her throat, but nowhere near as much as it had been before. ¡°The people you¡¯re working against are efficient and deadly. The Talon does not take people and make a show out of it, and considering the mess all over the place, they were in a rush.¡±


    The Talon, I thought, rolling the name around my mind, but nope¡ªno bells. For the past few months, it kinda felt like I was a tourist in my own city, with how much stuff went on without me ever finding out about it all.


    I leaned forward, elbows on the table. ¡°But they¡¯re some kind of assassin guild, right? What scares them?¡±


    If she could have shrugged, she probably just would have. ¡°Other guilds¡­the SDU¡­maybe even you.¡±


    I paused, then pinched the bridge of my nose. ¡°I need you to slow down by a dozen one-liners, Av¡¯, and tell me you¡¯re joking about the possible multiple guilds that might want to get their hands on Bianca right now.¡±


    ¡°Did you miss the part about them being afraid of you?¡±


    ¡°They can join the club and pick a number,¡± I said, waving her off, because oh, trust me, they would be, and should be, fucking afraid of me once I found them. So much as a hair on her head¡­ ¡°Which other guilds?¡±


    Ava thought for a while, then said, ¡°The Order of Secarius, House Salamander, Eden¡¯s Room,there¡¯s about a dozen who might want to get their hands on her, but work like this? It¡¯s the Talon and nobody else. They ran after they got what they wanted, and if I was going to deduce the amount of drying blood on the floor and our arrival, I¡¯d say that either you scared them, or someone had come along and forced them to leave. I can¡¯t be sure, honestly.¡±


    I groaned and thumbed my eyes, trying to think of what I should do next. Getting rid of Ava crossed my mind, because it was instinct at this point, but I also needed to get a move on, and she seemingly knew this city a lot better than I did. Can¡¯t go knocking on all of those guild¡¯s doors, hoping for an answer. That wastes time. Lucas would have known what to do, and that¡¯s what I would have said a few weeks ago, but the worst part is that he kinda would have known what to do, and would have also known why they wanted Bianca so badly in the first place, too.


    But it was easy to fall into that trap again, needing people like him and dad to fix my problems.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Which, according to me, they¡¯d done nothing except make them even worse.


    As a Hail Mary effort, I glanced at the ceiling, and of course, whoever left a few hours ago had made sure that the cameras weren¡¯t here anymore. The perfect crime at an even more perfect time, because the police were too busy to figure this out, and so were the SDU. A kidnapping right now meant almost nothing to most people, simply because there were still giant Kaiju organs splattered over some of Lower Olympus, and skyscrapers-turned rubble to dig people and dead bodies out of, so¡­yeah, fine, I guess here I was, doing this whole thing on my own again.


    All that the brewing annoyance in my stomach did was make my fist tighter and the whine in my ears louder. I forced myself to relax and breathe, blowing air at the ceiling and relaxing my shoulders. ¡°Why?¡± I said.


    ¡°Hmm?¡±


    ¡°Why take her?¡± I asked quietly. ¡°Her mom is the dean of Olympus U. Her dad works with retired Capes. If the Claw or Beak or whatever their name is wanted cash, then they should have twisted their arm¡¯s more and gone for her parents instead.¡± I shut my eyes and let my brain work everything over. ¡°But a guild like that wouldn¡¯t need money, and if they wanted leverage, sure, then take her, but they would have made an announcement, and according to you, they¡¯re not that type of business. So¡­why? Bianca¡¯s a D class. She¡¯s not even a superhero to begin with either, so why even bother taking someone who doesn¡¯t know anything about this freaking city?¡±


    The silence answered me, because those were all the right questions with not enough answers.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Ava said, ¡°it¡¯s because of her brother.¡±


    I slowly opened my eyes and looked at her. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Well, Ben Ross was a known name just before his untimely death,¡± she said, which was a fancy way of saying her father murdered a teenager so badly that there was hardly anything left of him. ¡°Bianca would be¡ª¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said, shutting that down. ¡°Bianca never knew what Ben got up to at night.¡±


    ¡°Then maybe it¡¯s to draw you out instead. Ben¡¯s dead, but Olympia isn¡¯t. They know enough about you to figure that you¡¯ve got a relationship with her of some kind. They might be afraid of you, or they might want you.¡±


    You¡¯re lying to me, aren¡¯t you?


    I stood up and grabbed a handful of her hair, picking her up as I walked outside. She asked questions, got jittery as we broke into the brisk winds, then screamed when I threw her into the sky. Up and up she went, parting the clouds like a bullet. Before she came down, I was up there with her, catching her by her dangling spinal cord.


    She panted and blinked furiously as I held her upside down. ¡°You¡¯re playing with me, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I-I don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°Ava, you¡¯re a head. I can hand you over to the SDU and they¡¯d have a freaking field day with you.¡±


    ¡°Rylee!¡± she cried when I threatened to drop her. ¡°I don¡¯t have a reason to toy with you! I don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°You told me that these people have been watching me, right? That means they know who I really am, right?¡± I bring her up close to my face, glaring at her. ¡°That means they know just as much about me as you do, and suddenly, out of the blue, you come crashing through my window like a godsdamned coincidence, telling me all the things I want to hear that¡¯ll get me and you working together. Is that it, you wanna play a game, Ava? Wanna get me to jump through hoops again now that you¡¯ve got nothing else left?¡± I scoff and throw her up again, tossing her so her stump of a throat landed on my palm, making her wince. ¡°Is that what you want from me? You want me on this wild little goose chase that¡¯ll slowly put you back together as I take out the Talon for you, giving you power?¡±


    ¡°Rylee, I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut it,¡± I snapped. ¡°Ava, I¡¯m gonna ask you one question, and you¡¯re gonna tell me the truth. OK?¡±


    She swallowed, making blood dribble between my fingers.


    ¡°How did you know I¡¯d be back? And why did it just so happen that the Talon got Bianca last night.¡±


    Literally in the same few hours that I crawled out of that tunnel and into the streets again. It felt too scripted, too put together, because suddenly Bianca had a week before she supposedly gets killed, and it just so happens to be this very week? The same week I came back, and not the eight other weeks I wasn¡¯t even here?


    Whatever the Talon really wanted, Ava knew about it. I¡¯d just been waiting to see how she¡¯d lie to me.


    Ava¡¯s mouth worked silently, and it only started moving when I shoved my fingers into her mouth and threatened to split her apart like a bad melon. She coughed and spluttered, then said, ¡°Rylee, I wouldn¡¯t work with them. They¡¯re the reasons I¡¯m in this predicament to begin with! They stole what little I had left, then butchered me, separated me, broke me apart like bread and fed their animals with my dignity. I only escaped them because of my affinity with the shadows. I was forced to wait outside your window in the alleyway for weeks on end, hoping you¡¯d come back everyday. I don¡¯t know why the Talon chose last night, but my guess? They want something from you as well. They want you to follow them into the deep shadows of Lower Olympus and get lost in their web of secrets.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re full of shit, and that¡¯s amazing considering you¡¯ve got no gut.¡±


    I guess in some ways, you never really had one.


    ¡°Please,¡± she cried out, and that actually made me pause, because I¡¯d never heard Ava make such a pathetic sound before. ¡°Rylee, please. Believe me or not, the fact of the matter is that Bianca is in danger. You can kill me again and again, as many times as you want, trying to make me tell you whatever it is that you want from me, but that won¡¯t change anything. I have nothing more to gain than my body, and that¡¯s the only fucking thing I¡¯ve got left. I¡¯ve no home. No family. My father is dead or missing and his legacy was burnt to the ground because I was so afraid of every little bump in the night, thinking that I was this¡­this person that I wasn¡¯t.¡± She breathed out shakily, then met my eyes, squinting in the backdrop of the rising sun. ¡°I¡¯m not you. Your heritage towers over this city, whilst mine is lost somewhere in the smog and the filth on those streets, trickling into the gutter like the rest of the dead my father cast aside. To be frank with you, Rylee, you¡¯re the only thing I¡¯ve got left in my life. That and whatever shred of dignity I have left in knowing, maybe hoping, that at least one day I can actually be someone.¡±


    I stared at her, the wind making my hair snap against my cheek. ¡°You¡¯re saying everything right.¡±


    She looked away, her face pained. ¡°I suppose I don¡¯t deserve your trust.¡±


    ¡°Kinda happens when you stab people in the back over and over again.¡±


    ¡°Then let me have this one final chance,¡± she said, looking at me with eyes so full of bloodshot regret that I lowered my arm and stopped digging my fingers into her throat. ¡°To at least prove to you that I¡¯m of some value.¡±


    I sighed, because getting a knife twisted in my back has been the story of my life so far this year. I didn¡¯t believe the words she said, and I couldn¡¯t bring myself to, anyway. Something still felt off. Wrong. But every minute I spent arguing with her here meant a minute that Bianca could be getting hurt, so here came the tough decision time, rearing its ugly head once again. It had been in the sky when we¡¯d first properly met, and here we were, meeting again, saying words that almost made it sound like we¡¯d both changed, but at the end of the day¡­


    Well, we were still a vigilante and a gangster¡¯s daughter, weren¡¯t we?


    ¡°Where?¡± I asked her quietly. ¡°Where would they have taken her?¡±


    Ava blinked slowly, then said, ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea of who might know.¡±


    ¡°Do you trust them?¡±


    ¡°With my life.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°So that means I can¡¯t.¡± I know what I said about turning a new leaf, about a new Olympia taking center stage, but if I had to wring a neck or two to get what I wanted, then¡­ ¡°And if you lie to me, Ava, I swear, if you lie to me one more time, there¡¯s going to be a brand of agony you¡¯ve never felt before coming your way, and trust me, a lot of people are gonna get hurt because of you if you so much as twist a single sentence. Is that clear?¡±


    Ava tried to nod, which was a weird sensation on the palm of my hand. ¡°Trust me, she¡¯ll know.¡±


    And here we go again, trusting a criminal so I can do the right thing.


    What a way to start Christmas.

 Issue #56: Rebirth Part 1: Infestation

    I knew something was wrong with this place the second Ava told me it was the right one. For starters, it was a strip club along the same avenue that her guild used to be on, but was now a pile of festering rubble, pillars, and rebar she barely even mentioned. This place, though, almost looked like the Kaiju had avoided it specifically. It was an old building. The kind that filled Lower Olympus and made the streets glow purple with neon lights every night.


    It also kinda had police tape crossing the front entrance, and what might be a chalk outline in the alleyway beside it, but I figured that the police must have already had a handle on that¡­I hoped. I was perched on the roof of a nearly empty grocery store opposite the club, leaning on its large cursive sign and watching the streets below. The attack had left everything so¡­silent, but I guessed a better word was afraid. Even the Upper West, all the way from here, sounded painfully silent. Not to say I¡¯ve got a degree in marketing or whatever, but I figured this would be as good a time as any for Adam to be flying through the sky and giving people something to root for, but hey, if the guy was useless at more than just fighting, that wasn¡¯t my problem. But still, the city had a growing unease in it.


    And I felt it all the way in my gut, kind of like a rumbling sense of nausea.


    Guilty, was probably the feeling, but¡­


    I sighed and pushed off the sign, figuring I should stop wasting time lamenting on how bad I felt for not being here when the city actually needed someone to fight the big bad monster. I know they¡¯re gonna start asking those kinds of questions eventually. Where were you when we needed you? And I wouldn¡¯t have a proper answer.


    Hell, all I had for my efforts was a few scars and a vial of glowing liquid.


    ¡°Rylee,¡± Ava hisses from my backpack. I paid the bag at my feet no attention. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡±


    For a second, I considered turning Ava over to the SDU. The thought sprung up out of nowhere as I stared at the strip club. At its three-story build and the broken windows and shattered glass that sprinkled the sidewalks around it. Being helped wasn¡¯t a bad thing, I should know that by now. Overseer Two could probably give me a massive helping hand with trying to find Bianca, or explaining to me why she would be getting watched, but I stood there, thumbing the pendant on my neck, feeling the cold golden metal and swallowing bittering saliva.


    The truth was that I was tired. Pretty fucking tired. When was the last time I slept?


    Going by normal time, it must have been two months ago, and even before that¡­


    Right, the day I went to see Cleopatra. I shut my eyes and held onto the raised wall of the building, and I know, I know, it was Bianca I was looking for, and it was Bianca I was trying to save, and being selfish just wasn¡¯t part of the superhero package, was it? You lived and you died in the costume, but¡­Fuck it. Whatever. Fine. Still have the Triumvirate to deal with, as well as Cassie Blackwood, and Adam, too, and at this rate, I¡¯ll be balding before I even turn twenty. Then I opened my eyes and slung my backpack over my shoulder, my hoodie around my waist and jacket hooked to my backpack. I climbed the wall and leapt off it, landing discreetly in front of the store, but nobody had any money to spare, and that meant the place had been robbed dry of anything it had, so even if I startled the old man sweeping away the glass shards outside of his store in a winless battle, I didn¡¯t really care.


    Not much traffic to avoid, either, apart from the occasional beaten yellow taxi and a Cadillac parked outside of the strip club, half on the pavement and in front of a fire hydrant. Doubt any cops around here care.


    ¡°Sister!¡± a voice called. I froze. Don¡¯t know why but I did. A hand appeared beside me and thrusted a white sheet of paper into my face. The face attached to the hand was a painfully pale one, kept hidden from the sun under a large sun hat. Platinum blonde hair kept long, and feminine features that came with the masculine hitch in his voice, or theirs? I didn¡¯t know, and again, didn¡¯t care. ¡°Can I just say that you bare a striking resemblance with¡ª¡±


    ¡°Olympia, I know,¡± I said. ¡°Try the other two million blondes. I don¡¯t want to star in your student film.¡±


    They chuckled and tugged at the scarf wrapped tightly around their throat, as if, despite the sun and the growing humidity, they were cold to the bone. ¡°Whilst I am a student of our great leader, Purity¡ªblessed be those who follow his teachings¡ªI am simply offering you a chance through these very, very trying times in this city.¡±


    I looked at the paper he waved in front of me again. Don¡¯t have time for this, Ry. Out of curiosity, though, and maybe because their smile was creeping me out, and because of how many teeth appeared behind those slit-like lips, I took it and read it over, and nearly balled it up and threw it over my shoulder. It was a White Capes rally. Some kind of social event where this guy, Purity, would be headlining some kind of ceremony. For a second, I forgot these guys ever existed. I folded the paper and handed it back to them, then said, ¡°I¡¯m fine. Good luck¡ª¡±


    They forced it back into my palm and closed my fingers around it. I stood still, not liking how frigid and frail and slender their fingers felt against my skin. ¡°Our city lies in ruin and our heroes are made to watch from their castle of steel and glass, like birds in a cage watching as the cats squabble with the mutts and tear each other to bits and pieces of blood and bone. Olympia abandoned us. Adam is a false god. The bastard creation of humanity¡¯s ill intent to mimic the beings who have long since hidden among us.¡± They got closer. Their breath reeked of milk and


    almonds¡ªtheir tongue white and filthy. ¡°Join us or not, but do not ignore us. Watch us. Learn from us. Grow with us and amongst our growing family. There will be order again, and you, my sister, can stand amongst the strong.¡±


    I stared at them, into those painfully blue eyes that dug into mine. The few people on the sidewalk gave us a wide berth, hot-stepping away from the person in white as I carefully pried their fingers off my hand. Just another person who¡¯s fallen into some kind of cult. It wouldn¡¯t be the first I¡¯d seen. People from the White Capes were thugs that were angry with the world for whatever reason, but they loved to brand themselves. Loved to have this odd little symbol carved into the palm of both of their hands, almost like a cross embedded into a triangle. Theirs was new. Fresh. Still pink enough to leave blood on the back of my hand as I pushed their hands against their chest. I had come across symbols like that in alleyways. On clothes. Even now, on the strip club, the door had been tagged.


    The spray paint was still wet enough to dribble down the door, the neon yellow bright.


    I didn¡¯t have the bandwidth to deal with cults and crazy people now, though. I was heavily betting on some kind of other underground group of superheroes who dealt in the occult to be dealing with that problem, ¡®cause I was getting really tired of sticking my nose into every single problem this city had. Let someone else have their time to shine or whatever, because come on, in a city of millions, you¡¯re telling me that I¡¯m that important?Stolen novel; please report.


    That I¡¯ve got to handle everything from weird, to horrific, to rogue science experiments?


    No!


    ¡°Yeah, listen buddy,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t want to join your youth church or whatever.¡±


    They smiled thinly. ¡°Please, at least attend our sermon. Every Saturday night at Millman¡¯s Church. We offer food and shelter to those who need it. Surely, someone like you wouldn¡¯t turn a blind eye to those in need?¡±


    I stared at them, and they only smiled back, tilting their head. ¡°If I say yes, will you leave me alone?¡±


    ¡°Most certainly.¡±


    ¡°Then sure, now leave.¡±


    They raised a palm, not to wave, but as if to show off how deep they had gouged at their skin. ¡°Purity¡¯s blessings to you and your glorious, superhuman heart!¡± With that, they turned away, stopping someone else to preach about the wonderful findings of their religion. I muttered under my breath and stuffed the poster into my back pocket before heading into the strip club, ducking under the police tape and slipping past the bent doors.


    When I glanced over my shoulder, simply just to check, the person in white was gone, leaving nothing but the poster they had tried to hand to another pedestrian slipping into a grate not too far away from the strip club.


    A city full of weirdos.


    I turned and searched the floor in front of me, and gods, this place was a mess. For one, the stink of blood and bodily fluids was ripe in the air¡ªtoo ripe for a place that looked this trashed. I stepped over broken tables and downed stripper poles that impaled the walls and floors, as if someone had thrown them like spears. I slowly turned, searching the ceiling, seeing the light fixtures hanging by thin, sparking wires, and the tiles that actively fell as I looked at them, crashing down beside me and sending dust into the air. I waved my hand twice, sweeping away the dust and clearing the air, and that¡¯s when I saw the first body part. I had said something felt wrong about this place.


    And that was because it felt like a graveyard.


    I lifted a solid table, something that had probably once been where some of the wealthier guys would sit around and wait for the girls to come to them. Beneath it was a woman¡¯s torso, her fishnet laced legs askew and awkward, and the rest of her paste bleeding into the carpet. I found the next body in the rafters, and the one after that a meaty mangled mess of a man and a woman that seemingly looked as if they¡¯d been forced to be one person.


    I remained crouched, looking at the abomination of organs and skin and bones and meat. This was behind the curtains, where the strippers would get dressed and dolled up with makeup. Some of the lights around the mirrors were still on, flickering a broken yellow, making the entire place feel hollow, decrepit, and so much more quiet than what this place had ever been before. I pinched my eyes, then dragged a hand down my face slowly.


    Nothing, not even backstage, had been left untouched by this rampage. The curtains were shredded and the mirrors were shattered. Tables and chairs were shattered. Dead bodies and bullet casings all around. A fight had broken out not too long ago, because when I did eventually start finding guns, or the bent remains of them, the smell of gunpowder was still hot in their barrels. The police tape wasn¡¯t official.  I stood and searched the dress up department, where different costumes were now torn and shredded, covered in blood and littering the floor. Police women. Nurses. Teachers. Props, too, like batons and rulers and whips, and¡­there. A roll of cut police tape, too.


    Someone had played a very funny joke, leaving this place in ruin like this and cordoning it off.


    ¡°Hey, Av¡¯?¡± I said quietly, walking back into the main room, and left with no other option than to start looking upstairs. The stairs creaked under my feet, and I eventually resigned myself to hovering over the cascade of suited men that had been left gouged open on the red, spiraling staircases, guns beside them and faces frozen in sheer horror or pain, maybe both. ¡°You said this was the right place, but unless you know a medium, it¡¯s not.¡±


    Because that means your trusted confidant would be dead somewhere around here, too.


    After a few seconds worth of the silent treatment, I heard: ¡°I¡¯m sensing a lot of death.¡±


    ¡°Is the stench of gore giving it away?¡± I muttered, tracing my finger along the wooden bannister, through the sheen of dark red liquid that made it shine. Handprints on the wall. Claw marks gouging it open. I crouched at the top of the stairs and picked up a piece of pink fabric, because it smells¡­weird. Familiar. I brought it to my nose and breathed in deeply, shut my eyes and waited to get past the stink of blood, but no, I was wrong. The perfume was old, but nothing I had smelt before. I stood up and continued checking the suites, finding nothing but bedroom after bedroom of the same bloody chaos of gleeful destruction that had ravaged the entire building, inside and out.


    ¡°No,¡± Ava said. ¡°I don¡¯t have lungs to properly notice that, remember? It¡¯s the feel of the place. I¡¯m sure that you can feel it too, pressing against your skin, trickling into your bloodstream¡ªyou¡¯re more powerful than you¡¯ve ever been, and I know for a fact that it means you¡¯re experiencing something new being here, right, Ry?¡±


    You¡¯re not wrong. You¡¯re so, so not wrong.


    ¡°My friends call me that,¡± I said quietly. Up the next flight of stairs, and the same thing like the floor below, except with a dash of cocaine on the floor and needles that stuck out of someone¡¯s head like the quills of a porcupine. I shut that particular door and swallowed bile. ¡°So don¡¯t start getting chummy. What did your informant look like? From what I¡¯m seein¡¯ right now, I might have stepped over a piece of their chest cavity a moment ago.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°He¡¯s alive, or he will be very soon.¡±


    That made me pause for two reasons.


    One, because that meant her informant was probably just like her.


    And two, I heard the click of a gun being cocked behind me.


    I glanced over my shoulder, a hand on the office door I was about to enter. I was on the top floor. The one with the most shattered windows and the pale sunlight making the glass on the carpet shine. The wallpaper was flimsy and old, coming off the walls in drapes. Body after body along the hallway, all of them slumped and dead. Bullet casings glinted on the carpet like shards of gold, but wherever the bullets went, they hadn¡¯t gotten their target. I looked up, and I figured that¡¯s why I hadn¡¯t seen this particular guy before. He was impaled halfway through the ceiling, his body kept in place with the writhing, tiny little purple maggots of the Kaiju both Adam and I had killed. My mouth soured as I looked up and tensed my jaw. My body had been sensing and feeling way too much for me to really notice the specific odd things making my spine tingle, but suddenly, that was all I could feel.


    The irritation of its being alone made my skin crawl.


    Still lurking around in the dark, huh?


    The worms were burrowing into his wrists and legs, into his gut and into his eyes. He was a hive of them, and yet, he was still somehow alive enough to clench a gun so tightly his palm bled. But he was writhing, his face contorted in agony and his eyes screwed tightly shut. Stark naked. Bruised and bleeding and with holes in his body that let the worms and the tentacles burrow around just underneath his skin. My stomach turned. I spat on the floor.


    Then I raised my hand and filled him with a burst of golden light. A bang so loud and sudden it shattered the silence and the shadows around me. Then he fell, and I caught him, letting the worms rot and die at my sneakers.


    I stepped on the damned things just to make extra sure, then looked back at the ceiling where they had left him there, glued in place by their own saliva and secreted juices. They¡¯d burned a hole right through the ceiling.


    And I could hear even more of those things in the darkness above, and that left me wondering if the worms had been in the bodies I¡¯d passed, in the mounds of corpses that had sometimes been left to attract flies in rooms. How long had these things had to embed themselves into the walls and the bodies and into the sewers, the filthy bathrooms, the and even inside of the stray cats that came looking for an easy fleshy meal?


    Just for an extra, extra measure, I took a wild guess and stamped my foot on the floor, surging electricity through the building, or as far as I could. Figured. If it worked with my hands, why not with my feet? Quickly, the sounds of squelching organs in the dozens of rooms and ensuites silences, leaving me with a corpse of a man that was still clinging onto his gun defiantly, despite how hard he gritted his teeth in pain.


    Then the man spasmed in my arms, shook and tensed and arched his back as if an invisible force was reaching through his chest and tugging his spine out through his ribs, and then he vomited black squirming tendrils that squelched onto the floor, splattering around me in piles. He choked, and I was forced to reach into his mouth and pull as hard as I could, dragging most of his organs out, too, along with the rest of the tentacles.


    And yet, as he lay there, a sack of skin and bone in front of me, his heart still beat, and he never let go of the gun.


    ¡°By any chance,¡± I said to Ava. ¡°Did the informant kinda look like your dad?¡±

 Issue #57: Rebirth Part 2: Fertilization

    You¡¯d think I was getting used to watching people¡¯s bodies pull themselves together, but it still left me feeling a little grossed out. I sat inside the main office on a high-backed leather chair, my feet on an oak desk as the body I had saved very, very slowly put itself back together. For some time, I watched in morbid curiosity as the holes filled up and the missing organs formed inside his stomach. I draped a curtain over most of him, but it wasn¡¯t long before I was open-mouth snoring, my head tilted back and drool on my chin, at least, that¡¯s the position I jolted awake in.


    I blinked slowly, a hand raised to stop the glaring orange sunlight of sunset from burning into my eyes. Shit. I forced myself awake, shaking my head and looking around for a body that should have been right there on the desk in front of me, but very much wasn¡¯t. Shit, shit, shit. I stood up and looked around the office, then heard the grumbling noise of displeasure coming from a room attached to the office. I followed the noises, passing by couches with dead bodies strewn over them, and the obligatory bullet casings littering the floor. I stopped in the entrance of the walk-in closet, and watched as the formerly dead man, now in slacks and a white shirt, tried to look for a blazer that matched his pants. I put my hands on my hips and waited, because he seemingly wasn¡¯t in a rush.


    But my gods, didn¡¯t he look exactly like Lucifer, down to the suit and the neatly trimmed beard. He found a blazer he was happy with and pulled it on, and now it was almost like I was staring into a distant memory. A picture of a man that nobody had seen in months, and also the same man that had made some of my first outings hell. You couldn¡¯t blame me for being a little tense, especially as he turned around and buttoned his blazer. He had this easy-going look to him. Open top buttons of his shirt, a weasel¡¯s smile and the twinkle of a cheat in his eyes.


    Ava almost had the same look, though without any of the smoothness or grace.


    ¡°Ah,¡± he said, grinning. ¡°You¡¯re awake. Perfect. Grab me a coffee, will you?¡±


    I blinked. ¡°You almost died a second ago, and you want coffee?¡±


    He walked past me and into his office. ¡°All black, no sugar. Need a kick after that shitstorm.¡± The Lucifer look alike sat in his office chair and fondled around inside one of his drawers. Most of the desk, mind you, was broken and shattered, as if whoever had caused this mess had thrown a body right through it. That didn¡¯t matter to him, though, because he found the half-drunk bottle of whiskey he was aching for, popped open the cork and took a swig of it that made his throat throb. Then, finally, he said, ¡°Why¡¯re you still standing there, kid? Get to work!¡±


    Something about this freaking family, I swear.


    I took the bottle from him before he could keep suckling on it. ¡°Look,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you care or not, but you were filled with the kind of maggots that kill you slowly from the inside. I saved you. You owe me.¡±


    He looked me up and down. ¡°You¡¯re a superhero, ain¡¯t ya? You do that for free.¡±


    Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was because of the headache.


    But excuse me for hitting him with the bottle, smashing it against his dome and leaving his head a bloody mess that left him slumped in his chair. I watched as blood ran down the side of his face and stained his collar, then he jerked awake, and the shards of glass embedded inside his skull slid out and fell against his shoulders. ¡°Fuck,¡± he groaned, sitting back up again and holding a hand to his temple. He looked at me, bloodshot eyes sharp. ¡°You ever gotten an offer from the Olympus Bluejays? They needed a batter like you for the past five years, kiddo.¡±


    I shoved aside his desk, slamming it into the far wall. He didn¡¯t sit any straighter as I stood in front of him and grabbed his shirt collar, pulling him off his seat. ¡°Listen,¡± I hissed. ¡°Cut the shit and the quips. A little birdie told me that you can help me out, and considering how your current business is going, I doubt you¡¯ve got options.¡±


    He glanced at the bodies, then back at me. ¡°And who''s your little birdie friend?¡±


    I kicked the backpack next to the seat. ¡°Open it.¡±


    He raised an eyebrow, maybe because he wasn¡¯t used to getting bossed around, but I figured throwing him


    to the ground at my feet made that command a little easier to follow. He grunted, glanced at me, then unzipped it.


    Ava stared at him, and he stared at her¡ªmyself standing over both of them.


    He zipped the bag up and stood. ¡°Sorry. Can¡¯t help ya. Door¡¯s behind you.¡±


    I stepped in front of him, and this time he glared at me. ¡°You know me.¡±


    ¡°Yes, a lot of people do.¡±


    ¡°And you also know how I work.¡±


    He adjusted his blazer and said nothing.


    ¡°But I¡¯m a changed girl. I don¡¯t stick my hand through chests anymore.¡± I hovered to meet his eyes, and I saw the faintest sheen of sweat on his neck. ¡°I¡¯m also in a hurry, and all I need is an answer. How does that sound?¡±


    He tensed his jaw. ¡°Not if you¡¯re working with her.¡±


    ¡°And what if I am?¡±


    He guffawed, then barked out some laughter. ¡°Are you crazy!¡± he asked. ¡°She¡¯s exactly like her old man! I swear, that son of a bitch¡ªbless my mom, rest her raggedy old soul¡ªcan¡¯t look a man in the eyes without lyin¡¯!¡±


    Speak to the choir.


    ¡°That also means,¡± he said, ¡°that she¡¯s only working with you to get something back. And I know what she wants and I know exactly how she¡¯s got you doing what she wants even if she¡¯s nothing but a head in a bag, kid!¡± He walked past me again and headed for a bookshelf, pulled out a random book, flicked it open, and pulled out a canister of alcohol he unscrewed and drank from. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, then said, ¡°You ever trust her, and you¡¯re as good as done, and take that from someone who changed her diapers as a baby. I say you cut your losses and you get a move on saving the city or whatever you pajama-wearing weirdos like to do so often, O.¡±


    None of this was really breaking news to me, so I said, ¡°Someone I care about is in trouble.¡±


    He gestured at the bag. ¡°I bet she¡¯s the one who got them into that trouble.¡±


    I paused, glanced at the backpack, then shook my head. ¡°I didn¡¯t come here to talk. I came here to find out what you know about the Talon, because those are the kinds of people the person I care about is up against here.¡±


    The bottle didn¡¯t touch his lips this time. He lowered his arm and screwed it tightly shut, cutting off the stink of liquor in the air. He stared at me. Really, really stared at me. ¡°You sure your friend ain¡¯t already dead?¡±


    I swallowed past the lump in my throat. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure.¡±


    I really, really hope so.


    ¡°Then chasing after them isn¡¯t a good idea, even for the likes of you.¡± His voice was suddenly very flat, nothing like it had been a moment ago. ¡°You¡¯re bulletproof, and that makes you brave. But the people around you ain¡¯t, and that doesn¡¯t mean they aren¡¯t brave, it just means the Talon aren¡¯t afraid of going after them instead.¡±


    ¡°They can try,¡± I said. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Oh,¡± he chuckled, leaning against a couch. ¡°They will, trust me.¡±


    ¡°They did this?¡± I asked, gesturing around him.


    He glanced over his shoulder and the dead body behind him, at the large gouges in the walls and the shelves and trophies, picture frames and memorabilia that was broken and scattered around the floor. His lips were thin, his face a mask. ¡°No,¡± he said, tapping his index finger against the couch. ¡°Hell, I wish it were them instead.¡±


    ¡°Then who was it?¡± I asked. ¡°I help you figure this out, and you help me with finding them.¡±


    I¡¯d had a thought before I came here. Finding Bianca was one thing, but stopping the Talon was another. I was a hands-on kind of gal, and that meant I wanted to make these people understand very thoroughly that I wasn¡¯t willing to play this game with them. I could keep saving Bianca, or I could eliminate the problem where it stood.


    I was pretty exhausted of letting tiny fires keep spitting and sparking, because all they ever did was grow.


    He shook his head. ¡°No can do. Got what they wanted, put me on my ass. I¡¯m pretty finished.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I asked. ¡°Just like that?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much,¡± he said, shrugging. ¡°Never did like this business. C¡¯mon, your kid has her little friends asking what her father does for work, and what¡¯s she supposed to say? He hires girls off the streets to dance around in his office all day long? The money¡¯s great, don¡¯t get me wrong, but this ain¡¯t mine. It was all just Lucian¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°Everything?¡±


    ¡°Everything. I¡¯m a manager at best, kid. Hate to break it to you, but I¡¯m nobody.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s lying,¡± we both heard from my backpack. ¡°He¡¯s a police informant.¡±


    He glared at the backpack. ¡°Mind if I toss that in the garbage for ya?¡±


    ¡°Hold on,¡± I said, massaging my temples, because I loved it so much when I had to deal with just one Rivera, but two was just the icing on the cake. ¡°One of you is lying to me, and I¡¯ve got no reason to trust either.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Ava grunted, then said, ¡°At least open the bag so I can speak clearly!¡± I sighed and plopped her onto a table, letting her stare at, what I¡¯m guessing, was her uncle. Her lips curled into a sneer as she said, ¡°Don¡¯t let him put thoughts into your head. He skimmed my father for years. This place was a den for the police. They came here looking for a fix and a night with a girl for the price of information. My father gave him everything, and what did he do? He lied to his face and sent the dogs after him, and now look! There¡¯s nothing left of Lucifer¡¯s legacy now.¡±


    He tilted his head. ¡°Easy to say that when you¡¯re the one who ran the business into the ground.¡±


    ¡°I came to you for help and you didn¡¯t even offer me council. You¡¯ve got just as much blame as me.¡±


    He spread his arms. ¡°I offered you help, Ava, and you didn¡¯t take it! That¡¯s called being stubborn.¡±


    ¡°You wanted to take everything! I would have been at your mercy.¡± Her eyes narrowed as she paused, then she smiled thinly. ¡°But I suppose arguing about this doesn¡¯t matter, considering neither of us has anything left.¡±


    ¡°What, this?¡± he said, waving his hand half-hazerdly behind him. ¡°Please. Hire a few cleaning ladies, some fresh paint and furniture, bing, bang, and I¡¯m back in business, because someone needs to keep this family alive.¡±


    ¡°You and I both know the Triumvirate will eat you alive within the next day.¡±


    And suddenly, he was very silent.


    I sat on the table beside Ava, and came up with an idea that nobody was going to refuse, because the only person in this room with any kind of protection was myself, because like he said, I was bulletproof. Sure, that maybe


    sometimes left me making a few shaky decisions here and there, but it also meant that people like the Talon and the Triumvirate were threats I knew I could deal with somehow. These two, though? One of them didn¡¯t even have a body, and the other was a guy who had nothing left. His building was left in ruins. Whatever had done this had, by his account, taken what they wanted and left him for dead. The wolves will be here soon, and when they come, they won¡¯t be as kind as to let him live. Without other people, Ava wouldn¡¯t be here. Difference was that he was alone.


    And that made him afraid¡ªI could see it in his eyes.


    The police, even if this guy was an informant, wouldn¡¯t need someone who wasn¡¯t any use to them. I¡¯d need to talk to the two guys who arrested me about this, just to see if his story checked out, and to understand just how much of this city the Riveras had their fingers wrapped around. Yeah, just add that to the list, Ry. I¡¯m sure there¡¯s space underneath: save Bianca before she gets killed. As for the Triumvirate¡­Ava wasn¡¯t lying. They would come for him and they would wring him dry, and it was a miracle they hadn¡¯t gotten here yet, or maybe it was because something was stopping them from being so hasty. I doubted it was me, but what if it was because of who did all of this damage? A building full of corpses meant someone I had to worry about. Someone very dangerous.


    Because as far as I was concerned, the Triumvirate had never been afraid of me before.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, sighing a little. ¡°I¡¯ve got a proposal.¡± Both of them were all ears, which, finally, knowing this family. ¡°You point me toward the Talon, and in return, I¡¯ll make sure that whoever did this to you gets found.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going to work with him?¡± Ava asked bitterly.


    ¡°I worked with you, so what¡¯s the difference?¡± Before she could counter, I said, ¡°But I¡¯m not going to spend every waking second searching for them. In all honesty, I don¡¯t give a fuck. I¡¯m only doing this because I know you¡¯re a Rivera too, and that means you¡¯re always after something to keep you tethered to a deal. You help me, and I¡¯ll help you. Besides, once the Triumvirate catches wind that you¡¯re with me, they won¡¯t screw with you.¡±


    I was bluffing, but I had to take a chance.


    He looked at his niece. ¡°They fucked with her plenty when you were there.¡±


    ¡°We technically broke up before they did her in.¡±


    Ava glared at me.


    He thought for a moment, mulling around his thoughts and using his tongue to slide along the brim of his lips. Eventually, he sighed and ran a hand down his face, then looked at me. ¡°You¡¯re offering your protection, and in return I¡¯m gonna help you, the Daughter of Zeus, fuck with one of the most dangerous guilds in the world? Look, I know it¡¯s a cape thing to always fight for your family and friends and all, but sometimes you¡¯re better off just cutting your losses. If that friend of yours is in this much danger, why not just go to, I don¡¯t know, the damn SDU?¡±


    That¡¯s a great point.


    But a part of me kinda wanted to prove myself. Not like before, but in another way. To myself. Not to dad and not to this city, because I have bled and ached plenty for them, and I guess it was time I did that for myself. Was it selfish and stupid? Possibly, yeah, but when¡ªnot if¡ªI saved Bianca, I could look her in the eyes, and myself in the mirror, and know deep down that if she was ever in trouble again, I didn¡¯t need to flounder around looking for people who could come save me or motivate me or work themselves into my head to make sure I did the right thing.


    In short, I just wanted to save the girl I had a crush on.


    I wanted to trust myself enough to know that I could do it without faltering. For her.


    Was that so bad?


    I folded my arms and shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve killed worse, and I¡¯ll kill even worse if it means saving them.¡±


    He slowly shook his head and laughed dryly. ¡°You¡¯re either insane or have a death wish.¡± He pushed off the couch and stuck out his hand. ¡°I¡¯ll bite, but on the one hand that you deal with a tiny little problem for me.¡±


    ¡°I just told you that I don¡¯t have the time to do side errands, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but¡­ Well, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll make time for this.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡±


    He sucked air through his teeth. ¡°Well, uh, a few weeks ago, about the start of October, we started getting these girls coming in who wanted to be dancers. Of course, I would let a girl go wandering out into the cold without at least something to feed herself with, so I said sure. Turns out they were kinda sick, and got a lot of people sick, and I told the pigs, but they didn¡¯t give a damn. They threatened me. Told me that I opened my mouth about how sick they got, they¡¯d string me up for so many crimes I¡¯d be wishing I never sold my soul for eternity. I had to deal with ¡®em myself. I hate to see a girl¡¯s head get blown off, so¡­I took some liberties and put them underneath me.¡±


    ¡°You buried them alive?¡±


    ¡°No! God, no,¡± he said. ¡°I meant in the basement. Only way to stop the sickness from spreading. It¡¯s cold down there. Kept it sub-zero for weeks, and that¡¯s what kept them¡­better. But I doubt I¡¯ve got power right now.¡±


    I stood up slowly. ¡°Was the sickness anything like the Kaiju Virus?¡±


    ¡°Not exactly,¡± he said. ¡°More like an overdose on the kind of shit that¡ª¡±


    I felt the building tremble underneath my feet. Plaster fell from the ceiling, drizzling onto our shoulders and getting stuck into our hair. I sneezed, my overly sensitive nose reacting to not just the dust, but a smell. Stench.


    Something wickedly, awfully sweet in the air.


    Ava¡¯s uncle smiled, not letting it reach his eyes. ¡°Looks like my not-so-little problems are awake.¡±


    From the guttural groaning sound shaking the entire building, they sounded hungry.


    And smelt like Ambrosia.

 Issue #58: Rebirth Part 3: Harvest

    The entrance to the basement was a stairwell dripping with death. It reeked down here minutes before I even got anywhere near it. The kind of odor that lends itself to flies and humidity, and down here, where the lights were out and the wires spat dull orange sparks onto our shoulders, it was getting hot. Really hot. It left the dead bodies in a state of blistering and swelling, but maybe those were just the maggots from the Kaiju crawling around our feet, finding new homes inside the guts and chests and heads that filled the stairwell all the way down to the basement.


    I had never been inside of a strip club before, and so far, it wasn¡¯t a great experience.


    ¡°Jesus H. Christ,¡± Carter muttered, accidentally stepping into a pile of discarded organs, drenching his shiny leather shoes in filth. He held a flashlight up for himself, because trust me¡ªI didn¡¯t want to see any of this, but my powers made sure I would. ¡°Some of this stuff ain¡¯t even murder. It¡¯s just brutal.¡± He shook off his shoe and led the way toward the end of the hallway, muttering quietly under his breath. The jazz in his voice was gone. The punch and the energy sapped dry as he passed body after body that painted the walls red and the floor different shades of bodily fluids from ruptured stomachs. The worms had made this place their home. They¡¯d infested it all.


    And because of that, there was this ever present squelching noise in the corridor that made my skin crawl. Ava didn¡¯t want to be inside the bag anymore, and that left me carrying her in both my hands, meaning even if I really wanted to puke, I had to swallow it without my hand being on my mouth. Gods, I thought, stamping my foot down onto the floor again and sending a jolt of electricity through it. Like last time, they dried and smoked.


    But there were just too many of them. On the walls. On the ceiling. A latticework of fleshy string.


    ¡°This is a terrible idea,¡± Ava said. ¡°And you¡¯ve made plenty enough to know that this one is the worst.¡±


    ¡°Easy top five,¡± I muttered. I hung back a little, feeling the ground shake again as Carter neared the door at the end of the hallway. It was the one thing that wasn¡¯t battered and scarred or blown apart, just like the walls and floors upstairs. It stood fine, except for the hole carved through the middle of it. Inches worth of reinforced steel, punctured as if someone had just stuck their finger through wet paper. ¡°But we help people here, Ava, remember?¡±


    ¡°You help people. I¡¯m here to tell you where we should be going to get the help. He¡¯s untrustworthy.¡±


    ¡°Kettle calling the pot black here,¡± I said to her. ¡°You said I should go to him for help.¡±


    ¡°I never said anything about helping him in return.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s your uncle,¡± I said, turning her around so I could look at her. ¡°Your family is always making deals, trying to get people to do what they want¡ªare you really that surprised that we¡¯re down here right now? Really?¡±


    Ava said nothing, which, you know,  I thought so.


    Carter jerked his thumb at the door. ¡°Ladies first.¡±


    I rolled my eyes and forced his niece¡¯s head into his hands. Pussy. But¡­that didn¡¯t stop me from hesitating a little bit as I stood just outside the door. I flexed my fingers, already feeling the dull ache I¡¯d so long forgotten creeping back into my bones. Fuck me, this was the last thing I needed right now. So much as smelling it had kept my powers from developing for nearly my entire life. Being in a room that smelt like it was full of the stuff was¡­


    I didn¡¯t want to say suicide, but stupid was a better word. Carter wouldn¡¯t know. I could count the number of people on one hand who knew about my weakness, and even if he did, I could still take his head off if he tried something funny. So, with that thought circling in my mind, trying to give myself some kind of comfort and to put my restless thoughts at ease, I ducked into the hole, entering the room beyond it. My first thought was the darkness. Even with my eyesight, even with my irises making the darkness softly glow golden, it was hard to see. And then came the temperature¡ªit was hot in here. Very hot. I swore and ran my forearm across my head, already sweating.


    I stepped in something that crunched under my sneakers. The stink of hot saliva suddenly filled the air. The rattle of chains quickly followed, then came that ground-shuddering force that nearly toppled me over. Not once or twice. Several times. I glanced at the hole in the door, and Carter wasn¡¯t the one peeking through it, but Ava, her eyes squinted as she tried to see what I was struggling to make out. I swallowed, then raised my hand.


    Golden electricity erupted around my fingers, shoving the shadows to the corners of the room.


    Carter had said this was a basement. It was more akin to some kind of dungeon.


    Glass vials littered the floor, and the wooden crates they spilled out of lay shattered around me. Wooden pallets and styrofoam pellets, and the dust¡ªthat golden haze that dusted the floor and nearly everything near me.


    I yanked my t-shirt up to cover my face, but it didn¡¯t stop me from coughing so hard it felt like I¡¯d just been punched in the gut. I shook my head, and focused on the biggest problem, other than this fucking guy having so much Ambrosia down here he could probably treat half of the state for the Kaiju Virus. There were girls here. Women lined up along the walls, nearly stripped naked and surrounded by snaking metal chains that wrapped around their throats and wrists and ankles. They stared at me, their pupils so large it made me step backward out of surprise. Their eyes were bloodshot. Their skin was¡­cracked. It looked cracked, as if they were shattered pots that had been put back together. And underneath all that filth. The blood and the dirt and everything else, they glowed.


    It was their veins, I realized, slowly stepping toward them, that pulsated with soft glowing light. They stared at me, barely blinked. But when I got close, they flinched and scrambled away. They broke their chains off the walls. They were free. But they crawled around on the floor on their hands and knees, skittish and nervous and afraid of the light that was flickering around my fist. One of them snarled at me, made a sound so animal-like I almost thought they would lunge at me, fingernails bared and crooked, broken yellow teeth aiming for my arms.


    She did, actually, lunge at me, splintering the concrete underneath her as she did. Normally, I¡¯d dodge her or catch her or spin her around and put her on a hold until she either passed out or relented. Not this time. Not now.


    My body hurt just being in this room. It hurt even more when she slammed me into a wall, killing the light coming from my hand instantly. She was a storm of fingernails and teeth, rabid and frantic and violent as she cut and dug and bit down so hard on my arm I screamed. I punched her. Hard. Her jaw loosened enough for me to slam my foot into her gut and kick her off. She skidded along the floor and crashed into the rest, careening into crates of wood with a bang. I panted, swore, and glanced at my arm. Fuck. What the fuck? Bite marks. Deep, bleeding bite marks that left blood dribbling down my arm and dripping onto the floor. I went straight for the door before any of the glowing golden junkies got the chance to gather themselves, grabbed Carter, and bodily forced him in here.


    I threw him onto the floor and scooped Ava up with my good hand. He groaned. I put my sneaker onto his back and forced him back down so his face could be buried into the mounds of golden dust he had been pushing.


    Because why else would he have this much in his basement? And with all these people.


    And¡­I paused for a moment, a realization dawning on me.


    ¡°How long?¡± I said quietly. ¡°When did they get this sick?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Carter gasped, struggling underneath my foot. ¡°Month, maybe?¡±


    A month? A month! Most of the city has this shit in their veins!


    I kneeled beside him, ignoring how badly my arm hurt, or how long it was taking to heal. My skin burned and so did my blood, simmering in my veins. I needed to get out of here. It was a biohazard staying here, making me feel like my skull was getting pounded in and my bones grinded down against bits of rubble. ¡°You¡¯re telling me,¡± I said quietly, as the women began picking themselves up again, shaking their heads, clicking their teeth, ¡°that you¡¯ve had these people in your basement for a month, and they ended up like this, and you never said anything?¡±


    ¡°You were gone!¡± he said defensively. ¡°Vanished for two fuckin¡¯ months, kid. I woulda knocked on your door and asked for help. Hell, I woulda called the Olympia hotline if you¡¯re so pissed about it! But you left, kid!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not¡­¡± Gods, what the fuck is wrong with these people? ¡°There are people who deal with shit like this all over the city! Call Damage Control for all I care! Tell Cassie that her fucking powder is turning people into these things!¡± I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache banging away at the back of my eyes. Ava said my name quietly. I opened my eyes, watching as she winced as my blood got into her eyes. I pinched my nose again and swore under my breath. ¡°Listen up, you bastard. Tell me straight. Who attacked you, and what did they get?¡±This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    Carter stared at me, at the blood that ran over my lips and down my chin, and the gouges in my arm that struggled to knit themselves together. I narrowed my eyes at him, daring him to try anything¡ªsay anything that would make this a very, very long day for him. He shut his mouth and got off the floor, dusting himself off and offering me a handkerchief from his pocket. I took it and kept it to my nose. ¡°You know,¡± he said, looking at the girls that crawled around on the floor¡ªat their bruised knees and raw palms, the animals in their eyes and the feral brains that made their mouths froth at me. ¡°People in our line of work, we don¡¯t really like dealing wit¡¯ you. You¡¯re a no-go for a reason. The bastards unlucky enough to come across you get made into an example.¡± I was about to tell him to spit it out, but then he looked at me. ¡°How are we supposed to come to you for help when you¡¯d kill us on sight, kid? You think I wanted to get myself into this mess? I push information and blackmail, not drugs and hookers. Fuck me, human trafficking? That¡¯s her old man¡¯s business, not mine. My hands were tied, alright?¡±


    I glanced at Ava, then back at him. ¡°Pretty shitty excuse to still do this, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    He shook his head, eyes darkening. ¡°You don¡¯t get it. You? You don¡¯t have to worry about someone coming after you. Things don¡¯t kill you easily. Us normal people, it¡¯s different. They took my daughter. They took my wife. I ain¡¯t got nothing left except this goddamned building and a brother who ain¡¯t got my own back.¡± There wasn¡¯t sadness in his voice. No empathy or emotion. Plain old facts, and the cigarette he lit in the corner of his mouth. He slowly breathed out, and kept the flame on his zippo going, pausing the girls from getting any closer. They marveled at the soft light, their eyes wide and mouths wider as it danced in his hand. ¡°The feds told me to fuck off and stay quiet, and a Rivera ain¡¯t gonna go to another gang looking for handouts. We just don¡¯t got that kind of social credit anymore. There ain¡¯t no superheroes anymore to help us out, and you vanished for months.¡±


    I stood up slowly, feeling woozy, fighting to keep straight. ¡°What¡¯s that got to do with any of this?¡±


    ¡°You go looking for help wherever you can get it, right?¡± he asked me, tossing his zippo into the horde of spindly women around us, watching as they huddled around it, staring as it slowly died out. ¡°I mean, look at ya. Zeus¡¯ kid, and you¡¯re here bothering with the likes of me for help. Any other day, and I woulda felt special. You go


    looking for help anywhere you can when you¡¯re desperate. So I went to the one place that I knew would help a guy like me out.¡± He sighed and massaged his eyes, almost as if getting to this part physically hurt. ¡°I called Cassie.¡±


    I stared at him, the pain in my body briefly forgotten. ¡°You did what?¡±


    ¡°I heard down the grapevine about Ambrosia coming back,¡± he said. ¡°You weren¡¯t born when it was hitting the streets back in the day. Revolutionary shit. Our family was built off the backs of it.¡± He didn¡¯t sound proud of that either, but he continued after a drag. ¡°So when I heard it was coming back, and I saw what was going on with these girls, I knew something was wrong. It wasn¡¯t the shit we had in our day. This was new. Synthetic. Deadly.¡±


    ¡°So¡­you called her to, what, ask her for more?¡±


    ¡°I called her to warn her,¡± he said. Carter chuckled and shook his head. ¡°She wasn¡¯t too happy about getting a phone call from a guy she doesn¡¯t even know, talking to her about a product she¡¯s gonna make billions from. She made sure that I either keep my mouth shut, or get cozy in the pits of gold right alongside her, so¡­well, I made a decision that was gonna put the Rivera Family back to where it belonged. Right back on the gold throne.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and now look at you,¡± I said hoarsely. I coughed once, paused to catch my breath, and decided it was better that I ducked back out of the hole so I could throw up. Like I had said¡ªour bodies build immunity to almost anything. The more we fight, the stronger we are. The sicker we get, the healthier we become. But gods, this was something worse. Something terrible. Maybe it was the volume of the stuff, or Cassie had changed whatever she¡¯d mixed in this new batch, but it left me clinging to the wall, my stomach gurgling and my body threatening to topple over into the dead body I had just emptied my guts onto. I slowly turned my head, listening as Carter left the room as well, hands in his pockets and his head tilted, watching as I gathered myself. No sympathy for the hero.


    But I guessed that¡¯s what I get from a gangster.


    ¡°Stomach bug?¡± he asked quietly.


    I knuckled away the vomit and turned. ¡°So you started pushing because she sold you a dream?¡±


    He shrugged one shoulder. ¡°What can I say? We¡¯ve got a penchant for arrogance and contracts.¡±


    I mulled over my thoughts, because it all kind of made sense, didn¡¯t it? Cassie had been infecting these people for months now with the Kaiju Virus right underneath my nose as I tried to play Big Shot Superhero. Then the time came for her to save the world from her own disease, but she had to test it out somehow, didn¡¯t she? She had to make sure the billion dollar product that anyone could buy in bulk would bring people back from the brink of death. Who cared about a few hookers and drugged up teenagers wandering around the streets? Who cared about the dead body and piles of guts left in an alleyway without a killer in sight when the city was getting torn apart by a creature that had wiped out city block after city block? And gods, the worst thought of all echoed through my head.


    Lucas would have known about all of this for months now, too, wouldn¡¯t he? It almost left me wondering if I should have just kept playing along with his game. Kept gathering info on whatever it was that was happening. But I wouldn¡¯t trust him to tie my shoe laces, let alone tell me about how rotten the filth he covered himself in time and time again was. I had to bank on the idea that Cassie wouldn¡¯t sell the world a drug that would turn people into things like that. Like she had said, she wanted their wallets and their eyes and their attention¡ªanimals can''t¡¯ give you any of that. But, on the other hand, how many other people had this version of Ambrosia in their veins?


    Too many, that was my thought. Way, way too many.


    ¡°The person who did this,¡± I said. ¡°Cassie¡¯s person?¡±


    ¡°Funnily enough, I don¡¯t think so,¡± he said. Carter threw the cigarette into the open stomach cavity of a former bodyguard beside him. ¡°I didn¡¯t get to see much of them, but I know this kind of violence. It¡¯s a brand that two people own. You, but you weren¡¯t here, and you¡¯d have been a lot more¡­flashy. The other person is dead.¡±


    ¡°Dead?¡± I asked quietly. The hole in the door was suddenly filled by a curious head. Her eyes flicked around, possibly drawn to the noise or the smells or the sounds. She looked ghastly. Her gaunt cheeks and her black eyes and the thin strands of hair still clinging to her scalp. What do I even do with these people? ¡°Then how¡­?¡±


    ¡°Ever heard of a guy called Ben Ross before?¡±


    I froze still. Yeah, I went to his funeral.


    ¡°Heard he had a sister or something,¡± Carter muttered, glancing at the freakish skull now grinning at him through the hole in the door. His eyes narrowed, his lips thinned. ¡°And the voice I heard didn¡¯t sound familiar.¡±


    ¡­no.


    No.


    It wasn¡¯t Bianca who¡¯d done this. Simple as that.


    That¡¯s just a straight lie.


    ¡°Bullshit,¡± I said. He cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Your whole family is full of shit. All you ever do is lie and lie and try to get into my head so you can get what you want from me. Is this some kind of way to get me to go fight your battles for you, is that it? Want me to go beat up Cassie freaking Blackwood because she made you her bitch?¡± I was panting, in pain, my arm a bloody mess that was finally starting to heal itself. I used that same bloody finger


    to point at him. ¡°I¡¯ll deal with these¡­things, and then you¡¯re gonna hold up your end of the deal. You deal with Cassie after that, because that¡¯s your freaking problem, not mine. You people need to learn how to fix your own godsdamned problems for a change without having to lie your way into my good graces every fucking day!¡±


    ¡°Hm,¡± he hummed, sliding his hands into his pockets. ¡°Fiercely loyal. Hit a nerve, huh?¡±


    I would have planted him through the wall, if the creature in the doorway didn¡¯t move just as fast as me, appearing in front of Carter with hellish delight on its face. My raised fist shook. My planted feet dug into the floor and left my sneakers smearing through the blood. The girl stared at me, her strands of blood red hair falling over her face, reflective in the glow of my eyes. I looked back at Carter, and watched as he stared down his nose at me.


    ¡°They¡¯re going to put your friend down like a mut,¡± he said dryly. ¡°The Talon won¡¯t tolerate this.¡±


    I spat at his feet. ¡°Yeah, but they¡¯ll tolerate Cassie damning this city to hell?¡±


    Carter shrugged one shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re missin¡¯ the point, kid. Cassie is gonna know about this. She always knows about everything. Within the hour I called her, I¡¯d gotten a knock on my door and had a bullet through my head to make the message clear that she could get to me whenever and however she wanted. She finds out about this mess, and whaddya think happens? She knows what Ambrosia can do. She knows how badly superhumans can hurt people. Yet she¡¯s just turned most of New Olympus into a breeding pool for Supes.¡± He jerked his chin at the creature stopping me from briefly killing him. ¡°And if this pales in comparison to the thing that wrecked my entire operation, just so it could get its hands on raw Ambrosia, then she¡¯s gonna want to get it on an operation table in that fortress of hers by the time we¡¯re saying Happy Holidays. My little problem ain¡¯t the girls. It¡¯s the billionaire.¡±


    He wants me to hunt Bianca down for her own sake.


    I knew Cassie. I knew she wouldn¡¯t be above hurting a teenager and cutting her open and Gods.


    I didn¡¯t want to believe a single word he said, but¡­what other choice did I have? If this was all Bianca, then¡­why? She wouldn¡¯t do this, and I figured that¡¯s why it was all so hard to believe. She knows how to hold her own. Hell, I was the one who taught her how to, just in case. But she wasn¡¯t a murder. Some maniac that would leave grown men and women in piles of their own organs for nothing more than a quick fix. The worst part about all this?


    Carter wasn¡¯t lying. I could smell Bianca¡¯s perfume lingering in the air.


    That¡¯s what I had smelt first coming into this place, it was her. My mind just couldn¡¯t fathom that she¡¯d even be here, let alone be the one to do all of this. No. Something must have happened. Someone must be using her.


    Something must be using her. There¡¯s someone who¡¯d know about all of this. Someone who would know if there was some kind of connection to what Carter was telling me about Ben, about the level of violence he could have left in his wake in a single night. I never heard anything about Ben¡¯s murders, or his cases, or him snapping. Ben was kind. He was pure. He stole ice cream for Bianca and I out of the fridge at two in the morning, and took us to go see movies we weren¡¯t old enough to see yet. He was the brother that I never had, and the same person who supposedly would leave corridors matted in gore this shredded apart? No. It wasn¡¯t clicking. But he would know.


    The same guy I had promised to kill if I ever saw him again would definitely know something.


    ¡°Fuck me,¡± I whispered, pushing my hand through my hair.


    When does this ever get any better?

 Issue #59: The Unreleased Issue

    When I came back home, Dennie was just a little bit surprised about his newest customers. I had left the night before without a word to the old man, because waking him up just to tell him that hey, by the way, I might be gone for the next few weeks again, but don¡¯t worry about me, I¡¯ll be fine, felt a little unfair on his part. Superheroes had a bad habit of vanishing, anyway, but his being one of the only shops still open meant it was packed full for once, too.


    It was mostly people trying to get their daily espresso shots before they got back to work cleaning up the city and the rubble and the general destruction around these parts. Construction workers, even the occasional shiny assistant with their tight buns and pencil skirts ordering coffee for bosses who wouldn¡¯t dare come all the way into Lower Olympus by themselves. It pretty much meant that I had to force Carter up the alleyway ladder and into my bedroom, leaving Ava on my bedside table to watch him as I tried to find Dennie somewhere around the shop.


    Why did I come here? Pretty simple. Even if I wanted to find Lucas and ask him more about Ben and what he had apparently been capable of doing, I couldn¡¯t find him. He was hard enough to locate on a normal day. Now he was avoiding me, a ghost in the wind and a memory that dented the walls of my bedroom. Dennie would know something about Ben. It was a shot in the dark, but he was Ryan Kennedy before Ryan Kennedy probably ever was.


    ¡°Ry!¡± he said, somehow managing to sneak up on me instead. I turned, and got served a tray of coffee and cakes and bottles of water into my hands. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re awake, Buck. And I know you¡¯re beat. But we¡¯re in a pinch right now and I¡¯d really appreciate ya help. Table twelve gets the black coffee. Eight and nine get the waters.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± I said, before he could walk off, pen behind his ear and notebook in his bony fingers. I lowered my voice and leaned in. ¡°I need your help with something. I¡¯ve got¡­friends upstairs, and we need some information.¡±


    He paused, then looked at me, bushy eyebrow raised. ¡°You¡¯re sounding serious, Buck.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Bianca,¡± I said, and I guess my voice gave away a lot more than I would have liked.


    Dennie¡¯s face paled. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me the kid¡­ Oh, Ry¡­Hell. I¡¯m¡ª¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not dead,¡± I said¡ªhoping very much she wasn¡¯t. ¡°But she¡¯s in danger right now, and I¡¯m kind of lost on what I need to do to help her, but I know you¡¯ve got something in the basement. I know I¡¯ve been blowing off work for months, but I just need this one last favor, and then I¡¯ll bus every table in here for the next decade.¡±


    Bless him and his old heart, because he agreed, and told another girl¡ªa new worker, I figured, who was probably doing all the work I used to¡ªto man the shop and take charge of the other part-timers. He told me to take my ¡®friends¡¯ out back and into the cellar outside, and I did just that, meaning Ava had to briefly go back inside of my backpack in case anyone wondered what I was doing with a severed head in an alleyway. But I guess nobody would care right now. Sticking your nose into someone else¡¯s business wouldn¡¯t find you a new job or figure out where your next meal came from. So there we stood in the alleyway for several minutes in front of the cellar door, Carter with his hands in his pockets, kicking away a persistent little rodent that wanted nothing more than his laces.


    ¡°Little bastard,¡± he muttered, smacking it against a dumpster. The poor thing didn¡¯t get up.


    Dennie came hobbling around the corner, a set of keys jingling on his finger. He briefly looked Carter up and down, a slight frown on his face, probably thinking what I had¡ªthat Lucifer himself was now my new friend.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± I told him. ¡°He¡¯ll play nice. He¡¯s the discount Rivera, anyway, isn¡¯t that right?¡±


    Carter grunted and offered Dennie a hand. ¡°Haven¡¯t seen your wrinkly mug in years, Heart.¡±


    They know each other?


    Dennie shook it, his lips still thin. ¡°Woulda loved to bring you in for some coffee.¡±


    ¡°Gonna spike it again?¡±


    ¡°Nothing less, pal.¡± Dennie shuffled along and tried to bend over to unlock the heavy metal cellar doors. I made it easier and slid the key into the lock, and then pulled the doors open, but not before I briefly stopped him.


    ¡°You know this guy?¡± I asked, jerking my thumb at Carter. ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°Believe it or not,¡± Dennie grunted, lifting up his trouser leg to ease his way down the first stair, ¡°but that guy once wanted to be a superhero. Imagine that! His old man beat the idea out of him at about your age, Buck. That would have made one hell of a story, tell you what. I even thought he¡¯d manage it. But, well, you know dads.¡±


    No way. I looked at Carter, and he shrugged one shoulder. Inside my bag, I heard Ava snigger.


    ¡°Different me, different dreams,¡± Carter muttered, as we walked down the short steps into the cellar. And that was about as much I got out of him. Carter Rivera, a superhero. Gods, that almost sounded like some kind of pipe dream. But it kind of made even more sense why his own brother didn¡¯t trust him entirely. Not when you want to wear a cape when the rest of your family beats costume-wearing people into comas, or leaves them in body bags.


    One of these days, Ava and I would sit down and talk. Really talk. Maybe after I saved Bianca.


    Only then would I have the time to start fraternizing with a supervillain over the good old days.


    Now in the cellar, the bite of cold air made it feel like winter down here. The air in the alleyway had felt icy regardless, and that usually meant snow was on the way sooner or later. The stairwell meant the gusts of wind had a


    direct pathway into the stuffy little room that Dennie once used as a printing press for the comics he made way back when. I had found this place when I was a lot younger, purely out of curiosity. I had bothered him enough over the span of several weeks for him to finally buckle and show me what hid underneath his coffee store. Magic was the answer, at least, it had been to that buck toothed kid, and admittedly, it kind of still did to the exhausted superhero.


    Dennie switched on several lamps scattered around the room, most of them on tables, some of them on old cardboard boxes, turning the room a gloomy yellow shade of black. Dust lingered in the air and sat on the machines and the walls, the chalkboards he once used, and the many drawing stations he once sat at for hours on end. The world in the cellar was trapped in the Nineties, old dial up phones and everything. Cassette tapes in a box. Radios that had been chewed on by rats and time. Dennie didn¡¯t miss a beat, though, when he stood in the middle of the room, holding a box that I took from him. Even I could feel how heavy this thing was, packed full of old comics.


    But¡­not the oldest comics here. Those were in boxes deep, deep inside this place at the back. Boxes that hadn¡¯t been open since the day he closed down the store. These were the newest comics he¡¯d made before that.


    The black handwriting on the side of the box confirmed it¡ªApollo: The Boy Hero.


    The comics that never saw the light of day.


    Carter, hands still in his pockets, sat on a table close by, reading off the box, too. He whistled under his breath and said, ¡°That kid had one hell of a soft spot dug inside of you, old man. An entire box of the stuff, too? If I was any less of a man, I¡¯d be jealous. I guess the guy¡¯s dead, anyway. No point in being jealous of a gravestone.¡±


    I glared at the bastard.


    He put his hands up in mock surrender.


    ¡°Two boxes, actually,¡± Dennie said, a hand on his bad hip and another on the table I set the box onto. ¡°I lost one somewhere along the way. Must¡¯ve gotten stolen, or just lost to time. Someone somewhere got it, I know.¡±


    I gently picked up each comic. They were bindings of paper, more like, only a few of them colored, but none of them finished to the end. The thing about Dennie was that I kind of didn¡¯t know everything about him. But he knew everything about the big shots from back in the day. According to him, he¡¯d been a reporter by day and a comic book writer by night, but that was a lie, because more than half the issues he wrote about were based on real life events, and that¡¯s what made his comics so much better than anyone else¡¯s. Those had been real stakes. Real problems. And, in some cases, real deaths. Dad¡¯s last issue had been in his hands, given from him to me the day he had his national funeral. A special edition to Zeus¡¯ kid. The only version that, at the very end, said my name.


    Not Rylee, but Olympia. I guess that was meant to be the next issue. The next story he would tell.


    Heck, it¡¯s where I got my name from to begin with, anyway. He just somehow always knew.


    I frowned. ¡°There¡¯s nothing in here,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°What¡¯re you looking for specifically in a comic that¡¯s gonna help Carly¡¯s daughter?¡± Dennie asked. ¡°You know,¡± he quietly continued, ¡°she¡¯s the one who never wanted these out in the public. Said that she didn¡¯t want that kind of reminder in her face that her own son wasn¡¯t telling her the truth for almost six years of his life. So if you¡¯re looking to see if I put Bianca in here, then you ain¡¯t gonna find her. I never put family members in any of these.¡±If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    I stored that away for later. Bringing Ben up in the Ross house had bad vibes. His room remained shut and clean, and the pictures he was in were the ones Carly never spoke about if she had guests over. She was kind of like a second mom, when mine was too busy cutting people up for Cassie to come home that night. Her daughter hasn¡¯t been home in nearly a whole day, I thought, shutting the final comic in the box. She can¡¯t do this all over again.


    ¡°Not about the sister,¡± Carter said, filling my silence. ¡°About Ben. About those¡­darker nights.¡±


    Dennie¡¯s lips thinned. He glanced at me. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Cut the crap,¡± Carter said, but without a single hint of malice in his voice; just remembrance. A plain statement. ¡°You can protect Olympia all you want from the truth, but the kid is so green it¡¯s kinda scary. She doesn¡¯t know a single darn thing about this city, old man. I¡¯ve known her for a few hours, and the girl¡¯s pretty damned lost.¡±


    I wouldn¡¯t say I was lost, per say, but some help would be nice, and a straightforward answer.


    And, finally, after weeks of getting the ¡®truth¡¯ from villains, I¡¯d get it from someone I actually trusted.


    Even though a part of me didn¡¯t want to hear it, because my chest was already tight from the strip club, from the corpses and the destruction and even the thought that Bianca was behind all of this. Worst part, though?


    Ben must have been going through the exact same thing, and Lucas had let it happen. Heck, knowing him, he probably smiled behind that cowl of his, watching as Ben drenched his hands in blood, then scolded him for even daring to think for himself. For ever stepping out of line and taking lead and not following orders, because now look, Ben¡ªare you gonna shake your dad¡¯s hand, hug your sister, looking like that? He would have told him almost everything he told me, then put it in his head that he just wasn¡¯t that good of a superhero to begin with.


    And that drove him to take a mission that ultimately killed him.


    The lights flickered, and I shook my head. I apologized and waved at Dennie to continue.


    ¡°Well,¡± Dennie muttered, pulling out an old seat and sighing as he sat. He rubbed his bad knee, then looked at me. ¡°Ben was¡­normal. The kid wasn¡¯t anything Super. Not a single Divergent gene in that family line apart from a great aunt or something from Carly¡¯s side. I heard a few years back that Bianca snagged it.¡± He smiled to himself, shaking his head. ¡°Thank God her mother made sure she never came to Lower Olympus. Lucas would have gotten his hands on her one way or another. More potential than Ben ever had. Physically, at least. Gifted.¡±


    I knew this part. Hell, I¡¯d been the one who helped hang up all her medals week-in, week-out.


    But Ben being a Normal wasn¡¯t on my bingo cards either.


    ¡°Then how did he, you know, do all this stuff?¡± I asked, waving my hand at the comics scattered on the table beside us. ¡°This isn¡¯t the movies. Normals don¡¯t usually go around being the ones doing the Cape activities.¡±


    ¡°Oh, see, you¡¯re wrong on that again, O,¡± Carter chimed in. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of ¡®em, even right now. Except you¡¯re the one always fighting the bigger, badder supervillains, meaning these guys handle the lesser crimes. They beat up the purse snatchers that you otherwise wouldn¡¯t bother dealing with, you know? Pain¡¯s in the ass some of ¡®em. Real big hero complex. Teenagers with a mask and a dream who want to be just like you, or Shrike, or whatever pajama-wearing weirdo inspired them. I swear, the times I¡¯ve been jumped by some rogue gang of teenagers¡­¡± He shook his head, then smiled a little. ¡°They¡¯re endearing though. It wouldn¡¯t be crime without justice, you know.¡±


    ¡°For once, I agree with him,¡± Ava said from my backpack. ¡°Except they¡¯re mostly just annoying.¡±


    Dennie looked like he was about to question why my bag just spoke, but decided otherwise. ¡°Ben didn¡¯t start like this, either. He was just a kid, like Carter said, with a dream and a baseball bat. Got into a lot of fights when he wasn¡¯t in school. He was like you in some ways, Buck. Ended up here a lot.¡± He chuckled. ¡°I swear if I had a nickel every time a future superhero tried to steal my comics. I even convinced Carly to let him work here during the summers, just to make sure he wasn¡¯t running around the city looking for whatever trouble he can deal with.¡±


    I sat on the table, shedding my bag. That sounds about right for Ben.


    And then, almost as if the lights had turned off, Dennie sighed and rubbed his eyes. He remained silent for almost a minute, staring at the floor, his dull eyes and the bags around them sagging. I glanced at Carter who, for once, was quiet, looking at the old man with a flicker of concern on his brow. ¡°Ry,¡± he said grimly, looking at me. I steeled myself, simply because of the tone in his voice. Maybe it was a fear response. Some kind of way to get myself mentally ready for someone else in my life to turn around and stick a knife into my back. Just spit it out, D. ¡°I shoulda known better. There had always been something¡­wrong with that kid. Something off inside of him.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked quietly.


    ¡°I found him wailing on kids before in the alley, just ¡®cause they tried to steal a comic. And I¡¯d pull him off and shout at him, and¡­¡± Dennie paused, then said, ¡°He¡¯d stand there in front of me, blood on his fists, and he¡¯d be silent. Perfectly silent. He wouldn¡¯t explain or defend himself. And then, the next day, he¡¯d come bawling his eyes out. It¡¯s like the kid was two different people, you know? Fuck me¡­It was the night Lucas needed me when he found Ben.¡± I stilled. Suddenly, the room seemed a lot stuffier. ¡°He needed information on something. Some gang or organization¡­around the time the Chaos Legion was blowing up New Olympus. Ben stuck around later than usual, trying to help stack new comics onto shelves for some release the next day. I guess neither of them was expecting to find each other here so late at night, because I found them standing at the door, just lookin¡¯ at each other. Staring.¡±


    I gave him his time, a lump in my throat slowly forming.


    ¡°Normal, I guess, for a kid to gape at the superhero on the comic he was holding,¡± Dennie muttered. ¡°But I should have seen past that. That look in Lucas¡¯ eyes¡­he wasn¡¯t seeing a kid. He was looking at an investment.¡±


    At a mirror.


    ¡°And they say we¡¯re the bad guys,¡± Carter said under his breath. ¡°At least we don¡¯t hire kids.¡±


    ¡°It took a month before Ben told me he was quitting. Two months afterward, I found a body.¡± I perked up, then he said, ¡°I didn¡¯t know if he was the one who did it. Lucas got aggressive sometimes. Too aggressive. But I also knew how Ben could get, and I tried to tell him that he should be his own kind of hero if he wanted to be a Cape so bad. But he didn¡¯t listen. Stubborn little boy, always was. Steadfast. Headstrong. I spoke to Lucas, but he was the same boy, just a lot older and a lot more trained. I told him¡­I told him you¡¯ll kill that boy, putting him into that life so early, but he told me to stay out of his way. Together, they fed into one another. Then I caught wind of a butcher down by the docks. Got called up by my outlet to check it out so we could keep questioning the police and their involvement in the city.¡± He swallowed, his eyes clouding over. ¡°The bodies weren¡¯t even bodies. There had been a fight, sure. One hell of a battle. Bullet casings. Bent shipping containers. But bodies. So many dead bodies.¡±


    I shut my eyes, knowing what was coming next. ¡°Let me guess,¡± I whispered. ¡°You found the maggots.¡±


    He nodded slowly. ¡°Took pictures before your old man came and said it would be handled by them instead. After that, it wasn¡¯t headline news. It wasn¡¯t news at all. Then Ben came back one day and asked for a hug.¡±


    ¡°Then what?¡± I asked.


    ¡°The kid smelt like blood. Reeked of the stuff. Hadn¡¯t washed in days. Looked like he¡¯d been wandering around on the streets for weeks. I called his mom and she came, said she hadn¡¯t seen him in whoever knows how long.¡± Dennie chuckled bitterly. ¡°I called that bird-costumed bastard and asked him what the fuck he¡¯d just done.¡±


    Nobody spoke. Not until Dennie did again.


    ¡°He told me, ¡®I¡¯m putting him in line,¡¯ and that was that. Ben never acted out again. Never hurt a fly.¡±


    ¡°Except for the thugs that he left in my father¡¯s home,¡± Carter said. ¡°Or the times when¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± Dennie said to him, putting his hand on my shoulder and squeezing. ¡°She gets the picture.¡±


    I placed my hands either side of me on the table, digging my fingernails so hard into the wood that they sank into the old hardwood. I shut my eyes. Breathed in slowly. I wasn¡¯t even the first one. And now Bianca was out there somewhere, neck deep in the same kind of shit that left her brother with Lucas¡¯ noose around his throat. Fuck me, I thought, sighing quietly, shaking my head. My head was pounding, and when I opened my eyes, they were blurry with exhaustion. I blinked and rubbed them, swallowing a yawn and stopped it by biting on my tongue.


    Rhea would have probably told me to put Lucas under my foot and end all of this. But she wasn¡¯t here.


    Didn¡¯t matter, though, because that¡¯s what I felt like doing. That¡¯s what I would have to do.


    But first came finding Bianca, before any of this got any worse. To save her from herself.


    From the same bastard who¡¯ll turn her into her brother.


    I breathed out, then said, ¡°Ok.¡± I got off the table, then slung my backpack over my shoulder. Both D and Carter stared at me, their heads slightly tilted. ¡°I¡¯m gonna have to get this done somehow. Lucas is my biggest problem and I should have killed him when I had the chance. But I won¡¯t waste time finding him. Too much time wasted doing that. I¡¯m not a detective, and I never was, so I¡¯m gonna look for Bianca instead.¡± I was thinking out loud in all honesty, but I needed to let the noise in my head escape somewhere. ¡°Police are swamped with the rising crime rate. Wouldn¡¯t know much about sprees of carnage literally any other cracked out Supe could have done.¡± I pushed a hand through my hair, shut my eyes, then thought for a moment. ¡°Uh¡­I can¡­I can¡­Maybe I can¡ª¡±


    ¡°Witchling,¡± Ava said. I paused. She continued. ¡°Find her, and she can find anyone.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t waste time looking for more people,¡± I muttered bitterly. And not a villain.


    Especially not one who¡¯d quite literally dragged me to hell for funsies.


    ¡°Then just go to someone you know will be there,¡± Carter said. ¡°Go directly to the House of One.¡±


    Go to Hekka and ask one of the only remaining Olympias to look for my crush before Lucas gets her.


    The only problem with that was the House of One has kept its doors shut for nearly a decade. The last time anybody saw Hekka alive was dad¡¯s funeral. A solid ten years had passed since then, but a house call wouldn¡¯t hurt.


    For once, I was gonna go ask a superhero for some help.

 Interlude #5: Objective Complete, Target Neutralized

    Bianca felt like she was coming off a week-long bender, which was weird, because the most she¡¯d ever had was a hit off Charlie¡¯s joint. She groggily opened her eyes, moaning as her head worked hard to make sure she felt every single heartbeat smack hard against her temples. Bianca shut them again, then forced them back open, not wanting to slip back into chaotic unconsciousness. Off the floor. Get off the floor. She did just that, dragging herself out of the ratty sheet covering her, and hitting the floor very hard. Not on the floor. She stayed right there for a moment.


    Because moving was overrated, and the pain in every single muscle of her body wouldn¡¯t let her. One of her eyes, she realized, wouldn¡¯t fully open. It remained partially shit, swollen and painful pressing against the floor. She¡¯d been punched, or as Ben would say, I tripped and smacked my face against a table, like that made any sense. Nothing made sense. Nothing in the slightest. She forced herself onto her back, leaving her lungs burning and her shoulders aching as she stared at a ceiling she didn¡¯t recognize. Arms splayed, chest heaving, and mouth dry.


    Then she frowned, because where was Katie? That¡¯s all she remembered. Katie. The thought alone got her off the floor and onto her knees, using the military-style cot to make sure she stayed upright. She gritted her teeth and stood, bones aching and knees burning. She briefly swayed, sick with nausea, before she looked around the room. Not a single window. All wood. A chair in the corner. No carpet on the floor. A door that was made out of metal and a cot that was bloodstained, as well as a ratty, itchy little bed sheet that was spotted with dried blood.


    Her blood, she also realized, when she suddenly felt warmth in her side as she tripped and fell back onto the floor, her legs giving up on her. Bianca swore, pressing her head against the floor and clamping a hand against her side. What the¡­ She brought her hand to her face, feeling the warm blood between her fingers. A lot of blood.


    She glanced down at her vest, filthy and sweaty, grimy and dirty¡ªand the large patch of red.


    Bianca cursed again, even louder, and lay back down, slowly peeling her vest off her stomach, biting down on her lip as the cloth came free with the loose stitches keeping her skin together. She panted, panicking rising inside her as she stared at the wound. A very big, very open wound that pulsated with blood the more she stared at it. A knife? When did I get freaking stabbed?! But she knew she had to calm down. She had to before she passed out again in this strange room. Someone had tried to fix her, because she was littered with bandages and band-aids, a particularly small one on the back of her hand with a smiling little Olympia sticker on it. Then Bianca froze.


    Someone was coming. She heard footsteps outside of the door. Heavy, purposeful footsteps.


    She gathered what strength she had and stood, just as the handle turned and the door opened.


    A man with a jagged scar on his face is what met her in the doorway. Heavy black cargo pants, polished black boots, a tight fitting black t-shirt, and a rifle on his back¡ªin his hands, a tray of eggs, bacon, and juice.


    Some pills, too, and a coil of bandages and some needles next to a packet of stitches.


    ¡°You¡¯re one tough cookie,¡± he said, but not with his whole mouth¡ªjust part of it, because the other half was smiling at her. He somehow looked even uglier smiling. ¡°But probably not enough to keep standing, either.¡±


    As if on cue, her vision blurred as she stumbled backward, her butt hitting the floor hard, sending a jolt of pain shocking through her body. Bianca groaned and held the side of her gut, but if she could, she¡¯d hold her entire body at once. The man set the tray down on a table and unstrapped the strange, sleek-looking rifle from his back, leaning it against the cot. ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± he said, hauling her back onto the bed. ¡°No point dying on us. Boss¡¯ orders.¡±


    ¡°Who¡ªFuck!¡± She gasped, about to slap a hand onto the wound before he grabbed her wrist.


    ¡°Yeah, you keep squirmin¡¯ around like that, and you¡¯re gonna keep ripping through more stitches. I swear, it¡¯s like you¡¯re allergic to the damn things with how fast your body keeps spitting them out.¡± He forces her to lie down, even if sweat is beginning to pepper her forehead and sting her eyes. Or maybe those are the tears of agony making everything a blurry, confused mess. She doesn¡¯t know. ¡°But to answer you: my boss wants to be friends.¡±


    Bianca would have said something if he didn¡¯t aptly start removing the stitches.


    After that, she woke up again to an empty room and a clean vest, new bandages and a slightly duller ache running its course through her body. She still felt ridiculously weak. So weak she could barely push the blanket off her body. Someone had given her a sponge bath, because her skin was clean¡ªnot like it had been before, covered in a layer of dark filth that left her stinking of sweat and something metallic. She couldn¡¯t think straight. She shut her eyes and let the world stop spinning until she could focus on the room without feeling the need to vomit.


    Bianca wanted to get up, but her body didn¡¯t, so she stayed there, wondering when her limbs would finally gather the energy she needed to figure out where she was. She was running on instinct. This need to survive. Her mom was important, she knew that¡ªshe¡¯d been told that over and over again, and things like this might happen.


    She¡¯d gotten kidnapped. That¡¯s what¡¯s happened.


    Katie would know what to do right now, but she was probably looking for her as she remained in the cot, so Bianca had no other option than to make her job easier than to leave this place somehow. She was now a hostage.


    And she expected to be afraid. To feel terrified.


    It was difficult to do that feeling this way.


    The scent of roses suddenly filled her aching nose, making her jerk. Someone¡¯s here. It was a basic feeling. Like a voice was hissing in the back of her mind to get up and turn around, and that¡¯s what she did, however much it hurt, swinging her legs off the bed and scanning the dark room. Then she saw them, a silhouette sitting in the chair tucked away in the corner. The flicker of a lighter gave them away, and so did the glowing end of their cigar.


    Her body wanted to bolt. For whatever reason, her skin crawled and her gut twisted with panic.


    ¡°It¡¯s not advised,¡± a voice said¡ªfeminine, sleek, carving the words around her tongue.


    Did she just read my mind?


    ¡°Yes,¡± the woman said, blowing smoke again¡ªBianca blinked, squinted, and the darkness seemed to fade ever so slightly, allowing her to see the figure in the chair. She almost stepped backward out of sheer amazement.


    Because the woman in front of her was terrifyingly gorgeous.


    Her eyes were what caught Bianca¡¯s attention the most. Finely whittled slits that looked like the sharpened points of twin daggers, and then her lips that seemed like they¡¯d been carved from those same knives. She had soft brown skin, light enough to be somewhere South of the States¡ªbut she wasn¡¯t sure. Maybe it had been the accent, or the giveaway of the toughness in her eyes, but she couldn¡¯t focus on her for long enough to figure her out. All she saw were the twin heads of two serpent tattoos peeking over her shirt collar. But that was all. The white shirt, the black tie, the trousers and the clean white sneakers¡ªshe almost looked like one of those Supes in the Olympiad.


    Except she had an empty gun holster on her chest, and the gun itself in her free hand, hanging off the side of the arm chair. She didn¡¯t move. Only smoked the thin cigar. Bianca took her cue to sit back down on the tiny cot.


    ¡°Do you know what kind of gun this is?¡± the woman asked her. Her voice was intoxicating.


    Like finding out a shot of poison tasted like honey.


    Bianca shook her head.


    ¡°It¡¯s the one that blew that entry wound through your side,¡± she explained. ¡°A shrapnel round.¡±


    Bianca gingerly touched her side, wondering, if the woman wasn¡¯t lying, how the hell she¡¯d managed to survive getting shot in the stomach, then she said, ¡°If you want some money, then let me call my mom.¡± She tried her best to keep her voice level and the panic as far away as possible, just like she¡¯d been forced to practice before.


    The woman shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t require your money. There¡¯s no amount you have worth yourself.¡±


    ¡°Is¡­that some kind of compliment, or¡ª¡±


    ¡°You will be sold,¡± the woman said. Her mouth snapped shut, and her throat instantly constricted. Sold?


    Fucking. Sold.


    Bianca stood, and the gun, as if it had a mind of its own, pointed at her chest, then waved to the bed. Sit.


    So she sat, slowly, staring at the woman and her amber eyes, barely even blinking.


    ¡°I can get you the money you want,¡± Bianca said, the words leaping out of her before she even knew it. ¡°I can¡­I can get you Romain Cain¡¯s number. You know the head of the Olympiad? The real head of the board? I¡ª¡±


    ¡°I have no business with him,¡± she said, making the years of those cigars evident in the slight croak of her voice. The woman looked Bianca over, just like a butcher would a piece of prime rib. ¡°My business lies elsewhere.¡±


    Kill her.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The words made her head whip around, as if somebody had just whispered it into her ear. Nobody was over her shoulder, their lips brushing against her earlobe. But the voice had been clear. Painfully clear. She almost¡­


    Bianca shook her head. Kill her? Am I insane? She¡¯d just shoot me again.


    But¡­


    ¡°If you¡¯re gonna sell me,¡± she said, ¡°then why¡¯d you nearly kill me?¡±


    ¡°You can tranquilize an elephant to rip the tusks out of its skull, or you can shoot it and harvest its hide and its leather, and make tenfold what the single bullet you put through its head cost.¡± She wasn¡¯t the kind of woman to smile. No lines either side of her mouth. No lines creasing her forehead. Her face was a mask, and so were those cold, empty eyes. Bianca shifted, anxiety boiling her empty stomach. ¡°You are my elephant. Unfortunately, your hide was too tough, your tusks too stubborn¡ªyou¡¯re better left alive than killed. Simply too high of a cost.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I understand,¡± she said shakily, the adrenaline in her blood slowly making her jittery.


    Kill her and run.


    The voice in her head sounded stronger, more lively¡ªhungrier.


    ¡°I want to live,¡± she whispered, her voice cracking.


    The woman waved the cigar. ¡°Whether you do is entirely up to you. My job is complete. You are out of my hands and no longer in my custody.¡± She stood. Bianca swallowed. ¡°Follow. The owners wish to see their stock.¡±


    The moment Bianca stood, her arm lurched out on its own, lunging for the woman¡¯s throat.


    She vanished into thin air, leaving a trail of cigar smoke twirling around Bianca. She panted hard, head swiveling, flexing her fingers and wondering what the hell was going on. Run. She had to run. To get out of here.


    Her hand landed on the doorknob, but then her body froze on its own. Voices on the other side.


    Guards, she figured. But her hand didn¡¯t let go of the doorknob. She used her left hand to pry her fingers off the door, but it was like trying to pluck the rivets out of a skyscraper¡¯s foundation¡ªdamn near impossible.


    She felt the woman¡¯s presence appear behind her again, freezing her stiff.


    Then the gun was pressing against the back of her head. ¡°I won¡¯t hesitate.¡±


    Bianca wasn¡¯t in control of her limbs anymore. Her leg swung out in a wide arc, cutting through the air briefly filled by the woman. When her bare foot came down onto the floor, it splintered the wood. She had to yank it out of the hole she had made. She looked around, panicked, confused, then she heard a voice say, Do not fight me.


    Then, suddenly, the woman was on the other side of the room. ¡°You should listen to that creature festering inside of your body. Give me a show. I can double your price if you''re much more capable than we first thought.¡±


    Bianca shook her head violently. ¡°I¡¯m good, thanks! If you could let me leave, that would totally rock.¡±


    She fired her gun, and the bark was so painfully loud it left her ears ringing. Bianca flinched. Shut her eyes, but her body was already lunging out of the way, rolling along the floor and watching as it punched a hole through the center of the door, exiting the metal so ferociously it left a hole the side of her head in the cold silver steel. Then she was up again, dodging another shot and slamming her shoulder against the metal, crying out when the pain sucked the air out of her lungs when the door smashed open and she stumbled into a cold, white-lit corridor. She looked around, head whipping from right to left, and swearing when something warm spread around the fallen door.


    Something warm and red and metallic.


    The guards outside the door had been flattened by it, or maybe it was because they¡¯d been slammed against the wall by several inches worth of steel and turned into paste, which was¡­Oh, God. Bianca heaved, then doubled over, nearly vomiting if it wasn¡¯t for her body deciding she had to start running, and right fucking now. So that¡¯s what she did, her legs carrying her forward in a panicked run, sprinting faster than she ever had before past door after door, room after room, leaving her lungs burning and her feet slamming hard into the white concrete.


    She managed to get to the end of the hallway, taking a sharp right.


    And then came face-to-face with the woman.


    Time seemed to slow. Everything slowed when the gaping black hole of the woman¡¯s gun lit up.


    Her eyes widened, and then she was flung backward, head over heels until she was crouching. Bianca gasped for air, feeling like she¡¯d just been punched in the gut¡ªnothing to breathe, struggling to breathe without choking in pain, and then she stared at the cup full of blood she vomited onto the floor the second she opened her mouth. Breathing got harder. Her head woozier. The woman stood where she had, gun still aimed, smoke slipping out of the barrel. Bianca tried to stand, this time on her own. Her legs gave out. Back on her knees, on the floor.


    There was pure, unbridled agony ripping through her chest, stopping her from moving.


    She figured that was because there was a chunk of it missing.


    Her gaze flickered as she touched the gaping divot in her chest, fingering aside strips of flesh and meat and staring at the shards of broken ribcage mingling in the blood gushing out of her. Her hand dropped. What¡­? She stood. Her body forced a leg in front of the next. She swayed. Hit a wall. Collapsed. Off the floor. She listened to the command, that voice, pushed off the ground, watching as the hole in her chest slowly filled with tiny, writhing little bits of flesh, knitting together her skin and the meat, her organs and even the inch of her heart that had been blown apart. Then Bianca faced the woman, her arms by her sides, her vision a shaky mess and her head filled with noise.


    Bianca spat blood, then dragged her arm across her mouth. Fuck me, that kinda hurt.


    Then she sprinted forward, closing the distance between her and the gun. She ducked and darted along the corridor, avoiding bullet rounds that filled the corridor with head-sized craters in the concrete, showering Bianca in dust and debris that cut her cheeks and arms but didn¡¯t stop her deadly assault. Then her fist met flesh, a second before the woman could vanish. Her spine prickled. She flipped over, landing on her hands and swinging her leg around, smacking the woman where she just appeared from, and knocking the gun clean out of her grip. It skittered along the floor. Bianca dropped to all fours, then pounced upward, slamming her head into the woman¡¯s gut. She didn¡¯t vanish. She stumbled back, holding her stomach. Bianca ran straight for her, a passenger in her own body.


    A passenger aching to put the bitch on her ass.


    Her fist met the woman¡¯s forearm, then got caught, twisted, and she was suddenly over her shoulder, hitting the floor hard enough to send a painful jolt up her spine. The woman slammed her heel into the back of her head, making her cry out as her face smacked the concrete floor, her arm still twisted behind her. The woman was nearly standing on her with her full weight, foot pressing hard against the back of her head. She heard the woman swear at her in Spanish, but Bianca didn¡¯t care. Her body couldn¡¯t find it to care. She grabbed the woman¡¯s leg, then twisted.


    A loud snap echoed down the corridor, and the woman screamed, letting her go.


    Bianca was on her like a dog.


    She spun her leg around, swiping the woman¡¯s one good foot. She hit the floor, down on her hands and knees, and Bianca took the chance to whack her knee into the woman¡¯s face, crushing her nose in an instant. Blood spat onto the floor. The woman¡¯s head snapped backward. Bianca climbed on top of her, fist raised to strike her.


    Then an arrow struck her palm, yanking her off the woman. She panted, staring at the quivering shaft.


    Pain was a dull noise now. She could barely even feel it.


    Hell, a part of her wanted to laugh. An arrow?


    Come on.


    She got on one knee and ripped the arrow out of her hand, taking meat with it, but the threads of purple flesh stitched the hole shut. She almost stood, and only stopped when another struck her in the side of the head.


    Got you, Kara thought, lowering her bow the same moment the girl¡¯s body thudded against the floor. She remained still for a moment, another arrow in her fingertips¡ªpoised, ready, waiting to put another through her skull. It wasn¡¯t brutal if it was efficient, because that thing had been relentless for the past several hours until she had tracked it down to this one, tiny little apartment building. It had wanted to be here for some reason. Maybe searching for something. Maybe wanting to hide away in the darkness to recover and lick its wounds before going out again.


    Its previous assault on New Olympus had left dozens dead, just so it could evolve, and yes, it had.


    Any other day, and the Arkphage¡¯s host body would have died with an arrow through their temple. Not this time. The girl was still alive. Her heart was still beating, because the venom that lingered on Kara¡¯s teeth was still in her bloodstream right this second. She had dreamt of something different, she was sure. The girl¡ªBianca¡ªwould have thought she was somewhere else entirely. A numbing agent that slowly paralyzes the body and the mind, leaving its victims confused and lost, weak and alone. That¡¯s why it ran here into the dark of this decrepit place.


    It was afraid, and knew it was afraid of being hunted down and ripped out of its host. Kara couldn¡¯t blame it. Too many of her sisters had been slaughtered by it, and it could sense her hate, her vengeance¡ªwhatever other word she wanted to use, the creature had felt it to its core, and it had run. Shame, then, Kara was great at hunting.


    Caligula, however, didn¡¯t seem quite so impressed. She stood beside Kara, silent and stoic as ever, her eyes watching the girl¡¯s body continue to twitch as the creature inside of her raced to heal her wounds. ¡°Is she dying?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Kara said, removing her mask and hitching it to her belt. They often said her voice sounded as if she had vipers in her throat, her voice raspy and silent¡ªshe much preferred the hiss of spiders. ¡°She¡¯ll live¡­probably.¡±


    Caligula glanced at her. ¡°Lady Kami won¡¯t be pleased if she dies.¡±


    ¡°Easier to skin a leopard without its head connected to its spine.¡± Kara contracted her bow to its smaller size and hitched it to her thigh, walking toward the girl and crouching a meter away from her. And after all these months, you lie here at my feet with an arrow through your head¡ªno more running, no more Lynx to save you.


    She had won.


    ¡°Tell Lady Kami the hunt is complete,¡± she said over her shoulder. Mother will be pleased.


    Caligula vanished, though not before she quietly said, ¡°Leave this city as soon as you can. You know very well who her allies are, and who, more specifically, her beloved is¡ªthe Daughter of Zeus is not our priority, Kara.¡±


    But she didn¡¯t really care about Olympia. Rylee Addams¡­Kara shook her head and stood.


    The gods ceased to be almighty the day their king died on his hill.


    If anything, she should thank me. The Arkphage would have killed her next.


    But¡­what to do about the body the girl had brought with her was another question entirely. A brief reanimation had left Bianca fighting a corpse¡ªthe same corpse that had terrified her mother and the rest of the guild into precaution. Months they had deliberated. Months Kara had stood in the darkness of their chambers, watching as they bickered because of one girl. Pathetic. Anything can get hunted down and killed. Lynx herself had been her mother¡¯s favorite once upon a time, but times change, as they so often do, and now there the girl lies at her feet, killed once more by the same girl she wanted to save. Katie, had been her new name, and she was dead.


    Again.


    What a pity.


    Kara took the body that mattered with her. The dead served no use to the living, anyway

 Issue #60: Sins of the Father 1

    It was about that time of day when the cold began seeping into your bones, but this was different. I had flown here in about ten minutes, simply because of how secluded the House of One¡¯s manor is on one of the islands connected to New Olympus. Once, when I was really young, a bridge stretched across the waters and connected the two. Not anymore. Not since dad died. Concrete pillars rotted in the choppy waters, sticking out like chewed fingers. The further out I got, the more bitter the winds became. Fuck me, I thought, as my hair whipped in the wind, lashing against my cheeks. It was either gonna come down hard today, or it was the house itself screwing with the winds.


    You could never really be sure with someone like Hekka behind those giant manor walls. At least, I think that¡¯s what he would be doing right now, making it really, really freaking hard for any news helicopters or really enthusiastic reporters with the ability to fly to get anywhere near their manor. The island itself was lush and green, overgrown with wildlife and vegetation that swallowed up nearly everything around it. I chose to land on the main road leading toward the manor, descending into a fog that sat on the damp, weed-splintered tarmac. Almost straight away, I felt a chill rake down my spine. It was the silence. The quietness. This looming presence of something.


    Like I said, ever since I had been on the farm with Cleopatra, my powers had gotten a little more minute. More focused. The voices in my head were still there, background noise chattering like the dead. But now my skin was prickling and my gut was tying itself into an unbearably tight knot. No, I wasn¡¯t afraid, by the way. I doubted there was anything on this island that could kill me outright, and besides, Hekka was a superhero. He¡¯d never.


    You had that same hope for Lucas, too, Ry.


    I walked down the quiet street, hovering over fallen trees, potholes so large they consumed half the tarmac, and dead animals that littered the sides of the pine-littered road. Busted street lights. Fallen electricity poles. Hands in my pockets, my hoodie tightly wrapped around me, and the cold was still painfully annoying against my skin. Kinda looks like nobody¡¯s been home for ten years. The only reason I walked here instead of knocking was just because the old me would have gone in there demanding I saw Hekka, or anyone else alive in his family. But I¡¯d kinda learnt that people have a bad impression of me, especially the ones who really needed my help, which also isn¡¯t a good thing if you wanna be a superhero. Sure, instinct told me to force the front door open and look around.


    Common sense, this awesome thing I¡¯d bought into recently, told me to stand in front of the rotting wrought iron fence and gape at the giant manor sitting amongst the dead willow trees and broken black statues. I didn¡¯t get any further. I stood there, breaths puffing out of my mouth. I squinted, but there wasn¡¯t a single light on inside of the house. I knocked on the gate, making it rattle and shed the dead black roses off its iron. I even took a gamble and rang the bell, but heard absolutely nothing. No electricity, remember? I know what I just said, but I was also in a bit of a hurry, and the faintest rainshower was just beginning to make itself known, so like¡­come on.


    I flew over the gate and over their yard, silently cutting through a chilly rainshower that was dampening my clothes and sucking the air right out of my lungs. Broken statues stood around their front lawn in awkward places. Their heads were missing, and so were their arms and legs. Some lay on the grass, twisted and turned by the roots that wrapped around their bodies. It kinda looked like a graveyard beneath me, one that thinned the further up the hill you got toward the manor itself. The closest statue lay broken inside an algae-filled fountain, half of its face glaring up at the countless dark windows looming over me. I landed there, right on the lowest steps of the manor, and held my breath. Complete and utter silence. It almost made my ears ring a little. It did make my ears ring.


    Either I had tinnitus from all the times I¡¯d been bashed in the head, or nothing lived here anymore.


    Which would just be the peak of my life so far this week for either option.


    The manor was this massive black slab of oak and concrete, arching glass windows and archways that led into silent courtyards and overgrown gardens. The windows were filthy, and each step I took off the gravel and up the stairs echoed. That feeling inside of me was only getting worse. My skin pricked, and then a burst of pain went right up my knuckles when I knocked on the heavy wooden front door. I cursed under my breath and shook my hand out, waiting for an answer, some kinda reply or noise that would tell me that, hey, we¡¯re still alive in here.


    I got nothing in return. Not after the first three agonizing knocks on the door.


    It felt like getting electrocuted, except a lot more jarring. That symbol on my chest faintly burned again, making me rub it gently until it stopped. Whenever it started to hurt, bad things usually also started happening.


    All I could do was hope this time would be different.


    I sighed and spread my arms, raising my voice as I said, ¡°Hey! Uh, I need your help!¡±


    Nothing. I was talking to a door with a rusted brass handle on it that stared at me with its beady eye and the roman numeral for one pointing at me. I guess it¡¯s not really breaking and entering if it¡¯s for a good cause, so¡­


    I pressed my shoulder against the door and pushed. It stood firm. So freaking firm that my sneakers slid against the wet tiles underneath me. I hovered and tried again, this time a lot harder. The doors budged, heaved, then something gave way, and they swung open, leaving me stumbling inside, hovering in the doorway of it all.


    I hadn¡¯t been inside of very many wealthy people¡¯s homes, but this was what I figured they¡¯d look like. Walls of archaic ornaments. Scarlet carpets that stank of decay and mold. The air was stuffy, thick and dusty and held the smell of years of neglect. I searched through the house, skimming over the spiraling staircase and the grand old hallways that led to ballrooms and kitchens, bedrooms and studies that were all so freaking empty. Not a single book or spoon or even a hair fibre I could find on the lumpy, rat-eaten mattresses. I didn¡¯t want to accept it, so I flew faster, searched harder, but not a single room stood out to me. It just looked like an old money kind of house.


    The kind of house devoid of life or love and filled with years and years of silence and solitude. The family had left this home to sit on this island and rot into the wilderness. They¡¯d let the shadows and the whispers of the wind make it their home. The only thing that screamed Hekka in this entire manor was on the main floor in front of the doors. I had to hover over the foyer to see it properly and light my hand up with electricity to push the darkness even further away¡ªit was a symbol of some kind, embedded in the wood paneling. It took me a second to figure it out, then I saw the solitary eye carved into the wood, surrounded by a pentagram on a scale, tilted the other way.


    The other half of the scale was empty, and yet it was still heavier than that crest.


    Which I was more than sure I¡¯d seen somewhere before. At least in part.


    Didn¡¯t Cadaver have that symbol on him? I thought. Without the eye?


    I paused. Held my breath. The wind had stopped blowing through the doors. The creak and groan of the manor being pushed around by the wind suddenly silenced. I lowered, but didn¡¯t let my feet touch the old crest. I kept my hands beside me and my breathing even. Something wasn¡¯t wrong. It was just that something had changed. Shifted. I waited for a scent or sound, a flicker of movement¡ªnothing. But I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling. An instinct that screamed at me to stay perfectly still, because something was happening around me. Something that I¡¯d only felt around dad and my uncle¡ªobedience. Not just from me, but from everything. The world itself held its breath.


    I didn¡¯t know if the humans had ever felt it, but being next to either of them was like having a vice around your throat or your head getting crushed between their hands. I figured it was nature¡¯s way of telling you to stop it.


    Because dad and Titan (and now this growing silence) was probably going to make you stop, too.


    There.


    My hand met flesh, then came the silent eruption of sound that shattered the silence.


    To my right: nothing. Nothing except for the thin air I clenched in my fist.


    The air flickered and warped, revealing a hand, then a wrist, and finally a guy around my age. He had deep brown skin and wore a finely pressed black and white suit. His hair was cut short. His eyes a mesmerizing shade of black that felt like I was looking into a void, just like it always felt when Witchling stared at me. Except her eyes were solid black¡ªhis eyes still had some white in them, but none of the warmth Hekka¡¯s had. We looked at each other, almost in surprise (a lot of surprise, actually), then I looked at his wrist in my hand, and just as quickly as he appeared, he vanished. My fingers slipped into thin air, and I was immediately on edge, head swiveling and ears straining. Who was that? Last I checked, Hekka was old. He wouldn¡¯t look that young. He never had a sidekick.


    ¡°Burden,¡± a voice hissed in my mind, louder than the normal chatter. I flinched and instinctively cupped my ear, but that didn¡¯t stop its voice from seeping into my bones. ¡°The boy bears as many souls as you hold lives.¡±


    You again, I thought, spinning around, trying to let my senses alone find him again. Thought you left.


    ¡°For as long as you walk this plain of existence, we shall be bonded, God-Butcher.¡±


    How thoughtful.


    ¡°I¡¯m not here to try to steal anything!¡± I said to the silence. ¡°All I need is help.¡±


    ¡°How?¡± a voice said, my mind filled with the word. I shook my head. Too many voices upstairs to keep up with, and adding what I guessed was the guy¡¯s wasn¡¯t a fun thing to do now, too. ¡°How did you make it this far?¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°I walked, I guess?¡± I said helplessly.


    ¡°Impossible.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty easy when you get old enough,¡± I said. My throat dried when the doors slammed shut on their own. Silence and darkness filled the foyer in seconds. ¡°Look, I came here for Hekka. I need his help, then I¡¯ll¡ª¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s dead.¡±


    I paused. The voice said nothing else, but I also wasn¡¯t going to believe him on a whim. For the longest time, I had also thought Cleopatra was dead, and now I kinda had a new aunt in the form of a former Olympian.


    ¡°Yeah?¡± I said, folding my arms. ¡°Then show me proof he¡¯s dead, and I¡¯ll leave you alone.¡±


    Nothing.


    Thought so.


    The doors swung open again, and standing in the intersection between the dreary light outside and the glum darkness in here was the same guy from before, this time with his hands in his pockets. ¡°You¡¯re not Zeus.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re not Hekka,¡± I said, landing softly on the crest.


    ¡°That was his title, not his name.¡±


    ¡°You think it was any different for Zeus?¡±


    We stared at one another, and I decided to make the first move. I walked toward him, watching him watch me, those eyes so terribly black they could probably watch right alongside Witchling¡¯s. I stopped in front of him and offered a hand. ¡°Name¡¯s Rylee,¡± I said. To my surprise, he took my hand and shook it. ¡°I¡¯m also Olympia.¡±


    ¡°Is that some kind of title?¡± he said, still shaking my hand, his grip getting tighter.


    Tight even for my standards.


    ¡°You can think that, sure.¡±


    I tried to pull my hand away, but nothing happened. I stared at him, looking up into his eyes, scanning his face. He was handsome, sure, but he also had a striking resemblance to Hekka. Sharp nose. Straight jaw. Finely cut eyes and this air of arrogance around him, like he knew he was the best thing that probably ever happened to Earth.


    And trust me, I know how people like that feel¡ªhell, I was one of ¡®em a few months ago.


    They were never fun to deal with, were they?


    But, also¡­


    ¡°Have you never heard of me before?¡± I asked. We stopped shaking, but his hand remained on mine.


    ¡°I don¡¯t go out much,¡± he said to me, his voice lulling, smooth¡ªdeep. ¡°Don¡¯t have that kind of luxury.¡±


    I stared at his hand, but I knew he was still looking down his nose at me, eyes squinted.


    ¡°No,¡± he said quietly. ¡°You¡¯re not quite like him. Almost, but not quite.¡±


    Then I felt the air shift around me.


    Next thing I knew, I was hurtling through the woods, head over heels and skipping across the forest floor like a stone on a lake until I very suddenly (and very fucking painfully) smashed into a tree. Too thick for me to make fall, but weak enough to groan and bend and explode wooden shards of shrapnel through the air. I cursed and picked myself off the soil, shaking my head as the bite of the wind got to me again. How the¡­? I got on one knee and wiped the mud off my face, then stared at the destruction I¡¯d caused when I¡¯d been thrown through the woods.


    About half the trees in front of me had been decimated, and the other half fell in real time, shedding pine leaves and water onto the forest floor. Birds shrieked into the cloud-filled sky, and for once, I was thankful I had left Ava on the mainland so she wouldn¡¯t add insult to injury with some stupid input. Slowly, I stood back up, sneakers squelching in the mud. Not great with new people, then. My ears prickled. I stepped back and searched the sky.


    A fist materialized out of the thin air in front of me, one so large it trumped my entire body.


    I flipped out of the way before it punched into the tree I¡¯d slammed into, disintegrating it and turning it into a pile of wood and leaves and shrieking birds. I landed in a crouch, panting, watching as the first flickered and vanished. What the hell is going on? Didn¡¯t have time to think. The ground underneath me shuddered, then opened up, and when I say opened up, I meant like a gaping mouth, teeth and tongue and saliva and all that devoured the forest and its mud, the trees and the roots and the stones surrounding me. I shot into the air, then smacked into the fist like a fly against a window. It grabbed me out of the air, then threw me hard against the forest floor again.


    I fell like a stone and hit the ground harder than one with a shallow whumph.


    My head whined as I picked myself up again, getting really tired of going up and down again in sick little acrobatic routines. Mud and rain and leaves were slick against my skin, soaking through my clothes. I groaned and shook my head, letting my hair come loose from its braid as the rain dampened it. I heard a noise come from just beyond the crater I had made. I looked up, and saw a silhouette standing above me, hands still in his pocket, and eyes just as dark as the canopy above us. Once again, I got onto one knee. Once again, the ground trembled.


    I spat mud out of my mouth and wiped mucus out from under my nose.


    ¡°Nice shot,¡± I yelled over the droning rain. ¡°Gonna have to hit me harder, though.¡±


    Like this.


    My fist was in his jaw the same second he almost vanished. A thunderclap of sound exploded from the impact, throwing us both backward several times over. A hand erupted from the soil and grabbed him, cushioning his tumble. I had no other option than to flip over and skid into a crouch, staying low, watching him, eyes trained.


    I flexed my fingers, then wrapped electricity around them, making the rain hiss and turn to steam around my body. I didn¡¯t stop until I was dry again. I didn¡¯t stop until the hand made from mud and stone stood him up.


    Haven¡¯t had a good brawl in ages, especially one that wasn¡¯t me fighting for my life. I rolled my shoulders and walked in slow circles around him. He didn¡¯t move. Barely even tilted his head to look at me. I know it was just a little counterproductive to fight him, but I also wasn¡¯t gonna be made to eat shit after getting insulted. I stopped.


    We stared at one another, the rain droning against the mud and the trees and the leaves. A raven called and a clap of thunder shook the sky. Come on, let¡¯s do this, since you want to so badly. I could always beat it out of him.


    It worked most times.


    He finally pulled his hands out of his pockets. I clenched my fists by my sides, making electricity crackle.


    His fingers flicked, and the trees surrounding me uprooted and shot toward me like missiles. I leapt and dodged, spinning through the air and shoving off tree trunks mid-flip larger than most buildings. They impaled the soil, showering us in muck that burnt off me and didn¡¯t even touch him. Then he was gone, and I was in the air, not taking any chances. That didn¡¯t matter to him though. I heard whistling coming from behind me, and I ducked from reflex alone and watched as shards of spiraling metal sliced through the air. And just as I was mid-flip, I paused.


    Because a giant red mallet had appeared in the air above me, and swung like a pro batter.


    I was caught off guard. Almost in shock at the absurdity and the freaking audacity.


    And that¡¯s what I get for being mesmerized by a giant red mallet. It hit me like a freight train and then some, leaving me spiraling through the air and rocketing back down to the forest floor. I was woozy, my head in a spiral, too, and barely had enough time to brace myself before the giant mouth in the soil opened and swallowed.


    I smacked into a concrete wall so thick I didn¡¯t even dent it. I stumbled, then fell, my knees hitting the floor as well as my hands. Fuck me, who the hell is this guy? I held my head in one hand, waiting for my daze to pass before I tried standing and inevitably falling flat again. It was dark in here, just like everywhere else on this freaking island. Cold. Silent. A basement, I figured, with nothing but an old boiler in the corner and a set of old wooden stairs leading up toward a solid concrete wall. Trust me, I found out it was solid by trying to punch at it.


    Nothing. It didn¡¯t even register when I hit it, like it wasn¡¯t bothered that I had tried and tried again.


    I walked backward down the steps, panting like a dog in summer. I was wet through and through now, cold and kinda pissed off that I¡¯d been smacked around like an idiot. My heart still beat against my chest, my lungs still ached for a fight, and so did the rest of me, because what the fuck! Come on, Ry. You fight monsters and villains, and a mallet takes you out of the fight? This wasn¡¯t fucking Looney Tunes. I was trying to save Bianca. And then here comes this asshole with his suit and his huge house and his weird British accent and those skin-crawling black eyes that had stared into my soul and his telekinesis and holy shit, he¡¯s a Special Grade just like Witchling, isn¡¯t he?


    I massaged my temples, knowing that I should have known better. But hell, he started it.


    I¡¯ll be the first to admit, right here and now, that I hadn¡¯t been taking him seriously. Come on, look at me, I¡¯ve fought way worse this summer. Been under a lot more pressure. I¡¯d taken my foot off the gas pedal a little bit because a part of me kinda knew that I was top of the food chain power-wise, and that¡¯s why finding Bianca was so hard, because people were avoiding me on purpose. I¡¯d beaten Adam twice, once even ripped off his arm. My cousin¡­well, if she was still alive, she would have beat the brakes off me if she¡¯d ever been healthy enough to give me a proper rematch, this time as equals. Witchling wasn¡¯t a threat to me¡ªif she was, we¡¯d have tried to properly go for one another¡¯s throats, and she¡¯d pretty much bailed on me the second she got her book. The Kaiju? Very dead.


    I still didn¡¯t really understand how Adam had beaten it, and should probably find out if that meant he was a lot stronger than when we last caught up, but if you thought for one second I cared more about beating him a third time compared to finding my best friend, you¡¯re crazy wrong. He could keep his goodwill and giant graffiti artwork.


    And yeah, maybe some of my frustration was bleeding out into the wrong places, but after a few days of playing detective and feeling like I was getting nowhere, I was starting to itch for something I could actually do.


    Like the old days, when punching something harder was my biggest worry.


    Or I could be making excuses for myself, and I was just rusty.


    I hadn¡¯t gotten beaten, though. I never tapped out.


    The wall at the end of the staircase opened, or more accurately, it simply just vanished, putting an end to my rant in the dark. I hovered a little, poised and even more ready, and there he stood in his suit and tie, now with sunglasses in his fingers that he slid over his eyes as he took one step down at a time, forcing me to wait for him.


    Don¡¯t get it twisted. He didn¡¯t stop level with me. He stopped a few steps above me so I looked up at him.


    ¡°You do that with all your guests?¡± I asked him.


    ¡°Just the ones who trespass.¡± Hands back into his pockets, red-tinted sunglasses reflecting my golden irises. ¡°The thing is, we don¡¯t usually get that many visitors anymore, especially not ones like you, Olympia.¡±


    ¡°By ¡®you,¡¯ do you mean superheroes who knock politely?¡±


    He remained silent, then: ¡°Those don¡¯t exist anymore. Zeus was the last.¡±


    Where have I heard that one before? ¡°I¡¯m keeping the cape warm until someone else thinks they¡¯re better than me and actually does something instead of telling me how shitty I am at this gig.¡± Maybe I¡¯d let my feelings slip a little, but I was getting tired of the same push and pull word salad games. ¡°So yeah, I¡¯m a superhero, and I¡¯m also looking for Hekka, so if you know where he is, or if he can take a memo, then I¡¯d really appreciate that.¡±


    ¡°Like I said,¡± he deadpanned. ¡°Hekka is dead.¡±


    ¡°You put me through a tree when I asked for proof.¡±


    He tilted his head, lowering it so his black irises could stare at me from just over his sunglasse¡¯s ridge. ¡°Take it from the person who read his last rites,¡± he said. ¡°My father never looked so peaceful than in his grave.¡±


    I gaped at him. Hekka had a son?


    ¡°So¡­you¡¯re it?¡± I asked, a little in disbelief. For the longest time, I¡¯d only ever known about one other kid from the Olympian¡¯s that wasn¡¯t me, but Ares¡¯ son didn¡¯t like to play nice the last time we met, and the less we spoke about that douchebag, the better. But this¡­this was great. Freaking amazing. My first thought was to get Cleopatra down here to check out his story, but Gods above, this rocks. I¡¯d been expecting to deal with a grumpy old man filled with years of regret and deadlocked morals that kept him here in the darkness of his own rotting home, but now I had someone just like me I could finally deal with. ¡°You¡¯re all that¡¯s left of the House of One?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m all that¡¯s been left for the past ten years.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow and folded my arms. ¡°Hekka made it off Olympus Hill, just like Shrike did.¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°Unfortunately, that wasn¡¯t him. Not the same man who went to try to kill Zeus.¡±


    What? ¡°I know you¡¯ve been cooped up here for years, but the Olympians went there to kill Titan, dude.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s the tale he told the world,¡± he muttered, heading back up the stairs. ¡°How interesting.¡±

 Issue #61: Sins of the Father 2

    He let me out of the basement without a fight, and I took that as my cue to follow him, because you can¡¯t just drop something like that and walk off into your manor. I appeared in front of him, and all he did was continue walking through me, as if I didn¡¯t even exist. I shuddered, my skin feeling like it had just been slathered in oil and touched all over my groping fingers. Gods, I hate telekinesis. Especially ones that practically had the world at their feet. Feet, I noticed, which didn¡¯t really touch the ground as he walked away from me, turning left down the hallway.


    I had no other choice except to trail after him, jogging along the mildew-stained carpet and running past giant windows that stood to my right, gritty with grease and dust and general filth from years of build up. I could barely see outside on the lawn, or even past that through the thick black tree line. The place was just as hard to see out of as it was from the outside. The entire place felt dead. Not dying, like most of Lower Olympus, but a place that had already given in to whatever despair bled from the walls and left the dark purple wallpaper lilting and old.


    A part of me figured that, without mom, home would probably end up like this place, too. The thought caught me completely off guard, feeling like an icy prod in the gut. I should probably call her. Eventually. She¡¯d be fine without me calling for a few more days. Hell, she¡¯d been fine without calling me for the past several months.


    That didn¡¯t mean my stomach was any less settled by that thought.


    Finally, I found the guy in a study of some kind. A large fireplace in the wall, complete with stacks of old books surrounding a single armchair in front of the crackling fire. The curtains were drawn shut. The place felt cozy and lived in compared to literally everything else inside of the house. He stood over a desk in the corner, flicking through a book bigger than anything I¡¯d ever read before. His back remained turned to me, and his hands were still in his pockets, but the pages still flipped, and a short cup of tea beside the armchair filled itself up with hot tea.


    I watched in silent amazement how everything around him worked without a single command, as he just stood there, slightly slouched, head tilted to read using the fire light alone. Hekka¡¯s son. I guess the gravity of that was still setting in. You don¡¯t meet that many of us, and yet here he was, doing his thing in a rotting manor. I mean, the world sorta kinda needed more heroes, and powerful ones (Adam didn¡¯t count), but y¡¯know, that¡¯s just me thinking out loud. Maybe instead of reading old books all day long for the past ten years, he could have been¡­


    Relax, Ry. Maybe he¡¯s got a reason for why he¡¯s let the city his dad used to protect get destroyed.


    ¡°Can I help you?¡± he asked me. His voice echoed inside the high-ceilinged chamber.


    ¡°You just said your father is dead,¡± I said, spreading my arms. ¡°Hekka was a hero.¡±


    ¡°Hm,¡± he said quietly, finding his place in the armchair, with the book floating steadily on his lap.


    I hovered toward him and lowered the book. He tilted his head up at me, sunglasses reflecting the small crackling fire burning on nothing behind me. ¡°I know it sounds pretentious, but we¡¯re in the same boat right now.¡±


    He scoffed. ¡°Leave. I¡¯ve given you your answer, so abide by what you promised.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that a hero¡¯s code? Their truest morality and the strictest faith in their words and others¡¯, too?¡±


    Don¡¯t go throwing those words in my face after you smacked me around your front lawn.


    I held tighter onto the book, stopping him from taking it from me with his mind alone. He relented and sighed, resting his jaw on his fist and looking at me a little too similarly to how dad used to look at me¡ªjust good old annoyance. ¡°I was saying we¡¯re in the same place, me and you,¡± I said, putting the book under my arm. ¡°Zeus is dead, and you look like you were around my age when that happened, and seeing that you pretty much have all of Hekka¡¯s powers, then we can help each other out.¡± I leaned on the chair, making sure he didn¡¯t simply vanish. ¡°You do me a favor and find someone I care about, and I¡¯ll do you a favor and¡­uh¡±¡ªI just had it¡ª¡°help you leave.¡±


    He stared at me, the wind pelting against the window and the fire crackling gently behind us.


    ¡°Why,¡± he said, ¡°would you think I¡¯m a prisoner in this house? In my home?¡±


    ¡°Well, you haven¡¯t left this place in years. I mean, how old are you?¡±


    He didn¡¯t answer me, which was answer enough.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± I said. ¡°C¡¯mon, dude. Heroes help each other.¡±


    He cocked an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re suggesting I¡¯m a hero?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the son of one, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    He waved his hand, and suddenly he¡¯s in front of the flames, stoking them with an iron rod. ¡°Heritage does not constitute any bearing on one¡¯s life choices. Becoming a hero is a decision, not just a fate chosen once you are brought forth into this world.¡± He set the poker beside the fireplace and turned to look at me. ¡°But I suppose if that¡¯s your way of thinking, then that must be what you think of yourself¡ªtrapped within the confines of fate just because¡ª¡± He paused, then walked toward me, stopping an arm¡¯s length away. ¡°By any chance, are you his¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, folding my arms after setting the book down. ¡°Zeus¡¯ one and only.¡±


    We remained in silence for several seconds. I couldn¡¯t tell what he was thinking. He had this gleam in his eyes, this thoughtfulness on his face that made him feel much older than I was. I mean, for crying out loud there had been one visitor on this island in the past ten years, seemingly, and he was still walking around with a full suit on. But I guess he got that from his dad, the same way mine was always in casual clothes if he wasn¡¯t in his gear. I didn¡¯t even know how he looked on his wedding day, now that I thought about it. He had this weird love for ¡®human stuff¡¯ that put him in jeans or shorts and Hawaiian t-shirts every other normal day at home. I guess it was different here.


    Very quickly, it was beginning to feel like the shadows and walls of this place had a lot more to say about the two of us than either of us really could. Maybe in some other life, we would have grown up together as friends.


    But that would have required dad to actually bother spending any time with me.


    ¡°I¡­apologize,¡± he said quietly. ¡°For your father¡¯s passing.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I muttered. ¡°Right back at you. Hekka was the coolest when I was a kid. Kinda scary, though.¡±


    He smiled. A fraction of his lips moving. ¡°You only fear what you don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°Like how you made the Earth swallow me whole?¡±


    ¡°Or how you¡¯re even standing here in the first place.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. Is someone afraid of little old me? ¡°Like I said, dude. I flew here.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you quite understand,¡± he said to me, suddenly back in the armchair. What is this, some kind of teleportation? Can Witchling even do that? ¡°A long time ago, your kind wasn¡¯t even able to locate this home, let alone enter it.¡± He rested his elbow on the arm rest, his chin on his knuckles. ¡°And if they did, they perished.¡±


    I let the silence drag for a little bit. The storm outside was getting worse. I walked back and sat on a short coffee table, facing him and leaning forward. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t make sense, does it?¡± I said. ¡°Everyone knew about this place. There¡¯s literally a Yelp review from some random visitor years ago on the internet. It¡¯s pretty easy to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Rylee,¡± he said slowly. I paused. ¡°Yes, I can hear your name being whispered. You hear them, too, don¡¯t you, the voices you think are in your head?¡± He lowered his sunglasses and slid them into his blazer¡¯s chest pocket. He leaned forward as well, and suddenly, my skin began to prickle. ¡°I apologize for changing the subject, but it¡¯s hard to focus when there¡¯s so much around you. So many¡­¡± He tensed his jaw and narrowed his eyes at me, then stood and walked toward me, stopping only to bend at the hip. I backed up, kinda freaked, then he grabbed my shirt and tugged it down. That¡¯s when I got into the air and over the table, putting some distance between the two of us.


    ¡°O-kay, yeah, how about you don¡¯t touch me like that again, huh?¡± I said. ¡°Unless you wanna get hurt.¡±


    He raised an eyebrow. ¡°You think you could hurt me?¡±


    ¡°I think I could kill you before you knew what was going on.¡±


    ¡°Absurd,¡± he scoffed.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    I want to state here and now that I was never a diplomat, and I also kinda didn¡¯t like getting touched like that so easily. And I keep my word. Always. So when he was crashing through the wall behind him, only stopping when I put a hand out to catch him, I was only making it very, very clear that I wasn¡¯t gonna be playing that kinda game with him. Not with Witchling. Not with Lucas. Nobody. I dropped him after catching him mid-air onto an old and very filthy kitchen floor. Empty. Vacant. Stacks of rusted pots and pans in overflowing, moss-covered sinks. Fruits rotted in a separate room not too far from us. I could smell the opossums dead in the walls, too fat on the meat and vegetables they could find in the freezers to get far. I looked down at him, my arms folded. Look, I hated to sound like this, but I hated people touching me. It¡¯s a thing. At first it was because I thought I just hated humans.


    But no. Touching me in general got my skin feeling a little bit like it was crawling.


    Blame dear old dad for that.


    He blinked and looked around, then at the gaping hole of the several walls he¡¯d just exploded through. The fire still crackled several dozen rooms away, but here in the dark, it was my eyes alone that lit up the shadows.


    I crouched so we were at eye level. ¡°Pretty absurd, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    His eyes didn¡¯t narrow. His body didn¡¯t get defensive. All he did was smile. ¡°Our scuffle in the woods¡ª¡±


    I waved my hand through the air and stood, using his collar to drag him off the floor. ¡°If I really wanted to fight you, we¡¯d still be out there. I figured you don¡¯t have that much battle experience, anyway. Not with how you threw things at me. I¡¯ve fought people like you in the past. Most of ¡®em have a strategy. You just threw shit my way and hoped it would work.¡± I picked up his sunglasses from him¡ªbroken, but still¡ªand handed them to him. ¡°It only worked ¡®cause I was trying to make a good first impression. You really should work on your people skills.¡±


    ¡°Seemingly,¡± he said, taking his sunglasses back. ¡°I¡¯ve been alone for so long that some¡­tendencies have become lost on me. Social cues and the like. Once you only have yourself to speak to, your conversational skills weaken.¡± He slid his hands back into his pockets again, but not after straightening his shirt. ¡°I only reached for you because of the sigil on your chest. I couldn¡¯t believe someone of your heritage would even dare do such a thing.¡±


    I leaned against the kitchen counter. ¡°I know I¡¯m different, but you don¡¯t have to make it sound like that.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s quite frankly no other way to put it.¡± Tiny fires blossomed around us, floating in the air and turning the kitchen a soft shade of orange. ¡°I met your father once before, and only once before. He hated being in the vicinity of my father, let alone this home. But he always struck me as odd, like an irritation against my senses.¡±


    Hey, me too!


    ¡°I always figured Hekka loved my dad,¡± I said. ¡°Hell, they were teammates for nearly ten years.¡±


    ¡°And my father loathed every moment of it.¡±


    He snapped his fingers, and suddenly we were back inside the study, the walls I had sent him through slowly beginning to repair themselves. Right back where we had been sitting, and I couldn¡¯t help but smile, because that was purely just showmanship. A way for him to say, You got a lucky shot. Any other day, and I would have been terrified, but I couldn¡¯t remember the last time I had actually been myself in a fight without the baggage of death in my memories, too. Guess it¡¯s genetic, wanting to fight. Killing the Kaiju down there in the sewers wasn¡¯t a memory I liked thinking about either. I had butchered it, sure¡ªbut that hadn¡¯t really been me. I wanted to think it wasn¡¯t me, because whenever I did, it almost felt like I was watching someone else doing all of that. I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s whatever. Something to focus on at another time. All that power, and you saved absolutely nobody, Rylee.


    I rubbed my hands together and picked underneath my nails, making them tick.


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked. ¡°If Hekka hated my dad so much, he should have just left.¡±


    He remained silent for a moment, then said, ¡°I suppose it doesn¡¯t matter if I tell you our family¡¯s secrets, now that there¡¯s none left to stop me.¡± He sighed and took a moment. I gave him the time he needed. ¡°You see, my family is what we call¡­special. Intertwined with the world in a way that¡¯s hard to describe, but I suppose you now understand what that means, seeing that you¡¯ve got It on your shoulder, constantly watching you.¡± I couldn¡¯t help but glance, but found nothing at all. He smiled a little. ¡°It waits for your death like a scavenger for food. So, so many of them want you dead, and yet it was different for your father. He was clean. Entirely devoid of any death.¡±


    I laughed. It echoed through the chamber. He cocked his head as I said, ¡°My dad? Devoid of death? Ha!¡±


    ¡°Am I mistaken?¡± he asked. ¡°Zeus never raised his fist to a man. Not apart from his own brother.¡±


    Oh, man, tell that to the races that are nothing but numbers in our databases.


    But he¡¯d been different on Earth, hadn¡¯t he? This golden paragon of truth and justice, a family man to the team who knew him, and the protector of Earth when the time came for him to save it. My smile faltered the more he looked at me, because this was getting even more uncomfortable for me. I shifted and stopped picking at my nails.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say the world didn¡¯t know him the way I did,¡± I muttered.


    So how did he not have ghosts or whatever around him?


    ¡°Regardless,¡± he continued. ¡°My family boasts a past of protection at any cost. Countless calamities that might have consumed the world entirely simply do not exist in this reality because of us. This is the best case¡ª¡±


    ¡°Woah, alright, slow down a little,¡± I said, holding up my hands. ¡°You said reality? Like, alternate¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yes, now please stop interrupting me. We could have gotten much further if you¡¯d remain quiet.¡±


    I gestured to him that I was zipping up my lips. Got it.


    But regardless, holy shit. Realities.


    Is that what those weird things were? Those Alternate Realm things that Dominion had put me in?


    ¡°As I was saying,¡± he said, sighing a little. ¡°This reality is the best case scenario for the world¡¯s end.¡±


    I stared at him, waiting for him to continue. The rain beat against the walls. The winds shoved against the home, making it groan and moan and struggle against the lashing storm. I gestured for him to keep freaking talking.


    ¡°And that was because of your father¡¯s death,¡± he said. ¡°He was meant to die, yes. But not like that.¡±


    Quietly, I said, ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Your father should have died before he even came here,¡± he said. ¡°He should have died the day he made himself known, or the day he wore his first costume and saved the world, or founded the Olympians. His existence was a calamity. Zeus alone was destined to be a turning point for us all, and that, Rylee, is why you shouldn¡¯t be here. I sensed you before you arrived, and you felt exactly like him. It¡¯s your presence. The air surrounding you and the fate that precedes you by millenia.¡± He leaned forward. ¡°Our texts weren¡¯t talking about your father, they were talking about you. My father realized that when he returned home. He was questioned and interrogated thoroughly. Some would say harshly. But he had failed, and on his deathbed, I demanded an answer to why he did not do it.¡±


    ¡°But,¡± I whispered, ¡°my old man died, anyway. You guys got what you wanted.¡±


    No, my voice didn¡¯t catch in my throat.


    And no, I wasn¡¯t going to listen to the part where I was the one meant to die.


    ¡°See, now that¡¯s the thing,¡± he said, leaning forward in his chair. ¡°My father was right in not being the one to kill Zeus. Our family was meant to isolate him. Capture him. Neither took place, because it was meant to be the one after him. The one with his blood, his heritage. The one who would burn the sky golden with his eyes one day.¡±


    I stared at him. The silence lingered around us. The voices in my head, for once, were quiet.


    I stood up and said, ¡°Yeah, this has been great, but I¡¯d really like it if you did what I asked you.¡±


    He blinked. ¡°Do you not understand the gravity of your own existence? You¡ª¡±


    ¡°I get it!¡± I snapped. ¡°Gods, I fucking get it! But my best friend is missing and I don¡¯t give a damn about fate or the universe or whatever the fuck else your family has going for it, alright? I don¡¯t care! I need your help, that¡¯s what I need, not a history lesson. So are you gonna keep talking all night long, or will you help me out?¡±


    ¡°Hm,¡± he said, and suddenly a flare of anger simmered in my veins. Old anger. Unresolved, raging anger. ¡°No, you didn¡¯t quite get what I was saying. You, Rylee, are going to be a problem. My father made me promise him to make his failures right. He perished a fool and an outcast from our family. Ostracized for going against what had so long been believed. He had trained for years, learnt things that would shatter the human mind beyond the basic modicum of understanding to the n-th degree. But he persisted. He studied. He was the one who was set to put right a world that has devolved into what it is, and then the Witch came, attacked us at our weakest. She took all. Left none.¡± He stood. The fire flickered. I glared at him. ¡°You wish to know why I have remained here for a decade?¡±


    I remained silent. Didn¡¯t even move.


    ¡°I was studying the same books my father bled over to rid the world of your kind, but I suppose now my job is easier, since you¡¯ve arrived at my doorstep.¡± I waited for him to move. I waited for him to try me. Instead, he tilted his head, his black eyes reflecting the snapping orange flames. ¡°Or we compromise, and you lead me to her.¡±


    I tensed my jaw. ¡°Lead you to who?¡±


    ¡°Clementine,¡± he said sourly. ¡°Witchling, as you¡¯d know her. She holds power unimaginable, and she butchered my home, our clan, and left nothing. You are a hero, are you not? Avenge the fallen and give yourself to the needs of the universe. Your capture and isolation will result in the world healing. In the lives of the ones you love being longer, more fruitful. Less burdened by the suffering your survival will cause them. You heroes are so persistent with the safety of the world, so take this chance to save it. I can show you what that will look like the moment you give yourself to the balance of good. Relinquish your powers, and live eternally happy knowing that your choice here today resulted in the millions, possibly billions of lives you¡¯ll affect. Your mother. Your friends. The one you love. Each and every single one of them will live on in your memory, happy, joyous¡ªalive, Rylee.¡±


    I stared at him, my lips twitching into a disgusted smile. ¡°That¡¯s what this is about? My powers?¡±


    ¡°I apologize for my crudeness,¡± he said. ¡°But the wrong person bears your responsibility.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± I said, then got into his face. ¡°Then who¡¯s the right fucking person?¡±


    ¡®Cause I don¡¯t see anyone else doing what I¡¯m doing.


    ¡°I see your thoughts,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I see your memories. I did not know his name. My father said it the moment he perished. Adam, is his name, isn¡¯t it? The boy who looks like your father. The boy who will save the¡ª¡±


    I hit him in the jaw.


    I found him somewhere outside his house in a crater of mud and dirt, gravel and wood.


    I hovered over him, my fists balled. Rain hissed off my skin, turning into tendrils of steam that snaked around my arms and legs and hair. My heart was a war drum in my ears. ¡°Thought you¡¯d be far more reasonable! I thought to sit with you, conversate with you, try to make you understand your importance before I use force! Child of Zeus. Heiress of Lightning. Harbinger of War!¡± He laughed and pulled down his tie, letting his collar snap in the violent winds surrounding us. ¡°So this is the mighty Olympia,¡± he yelled over the rain. ¡°Countless nights I¡¯ve been plagued with dreams of a person with golden eyes. Of eyes that will light the sky on fire with golden flame!¡±


    ¡°ENOUGH!¡± I barked. The rain briefly flew away from me. Gravel skittered. ¡°Where is Biance Ross?¡±


    He got to his feet and looked up at me, hands out of his pockets. ¡°She lives, only if you do not.¡±


    It doesn¡¯t work like that.


    I see, then, he said in my mind. Then I¡¯ll show you the consequences of your choice.


    He raised his hand to his left, smiling wolfishly at me. ¡°Fracture.¡±


    And just like glass, the air around us shattered.

 Issue #62: The Walking, Talking, Calamity Club 1

    Should¡¯ve known better not to trust a guy who hit me with a cartoon mallet not to plant me into the ground. I¡¯d fallen like a stone and slammed into a patch of dirt so hard that all I could taste for a solid minute was dust and grainy saliva. I coughed and beat my hand in front of me, clearing the dust that was trying its best to get into my eyes. Bastard. I spat dirt out of my mouth and shook my head, shedding soil and climbing my way out of the small crater I¡¯d made. I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the sun beating down on my shoulders. Heat bubbled in the air, warping the plains and plains of vast emptiness stretching out in front of me. Where the hell did he take me?


    Nowhere, seemingly, because I couldn¡¯t hear a single thing for dozens of miles except the quiet hiss of heat burning up the soil around me. The sun lingered high in the sky, making me sweat barely a minute after I got here. I tied my t-shirt above my midsection and put my hands on my hips, sweat trickling down my neck. Absolutely nothing around me for miles. My eyes couldn¡¯t even see so much as an ant skittering along in the dirt. Dozens of miles, and everything was barren. I crouched and burst into the sky with a dull whumph, hovering for a second, looking around for anything at all, and still nothing. So I searched, flying and flying, skimming over nothing but mounds of soil and dust and harsh, hot winds that felt like I was flying straight into an oven. Nothing below me.


    Nothing at all except my shadow skimming across the Earth beneath me. If this is even Earth to begin with. Finally, though, I found an outcrop of stone sticking out of the ground. An old, rotting building slanted to the right. I landed underneath it, panting from the heat. I ran my forearm across my forehead and found a rock to sit on, but the shade barely held back the heat. I groaned and searched my surroundings again, hoping for something that wasn¡¯t just more sand and dirt and rugged, sun-beaten soil. The building was empty, though. That was for sure. Its empty windows revealed a skeletal white concrete shell. No insides. No furniture. Rusted pipes and old wires that stuck out at awkward angles. Why the hell did he bring me here in the first place? If I wanted to go check out what a desert wasteland looked like, I¡¯d have gone to Texas where Sunburst cooked the place up way back in dad¡¯s day.


    Hell, this place kind of looked like some of the planets I''d been raised on. It almost looks like dad''s home. Barren. Dead. A wasteland of dirt and heat and nothing at all. Life just wasn''t a factor around here apart from the species that sucked everything dry. It was almost eerie, sitting here sweaty and alone, because if this place was Arkath, then that wouldn''t be great for me, but on the other hand, what the hell? Why''d the guy in the suit even bring me here in the first place? If this was the ''bad'' ending, then it was just plain old boring. Whatever, I thought, wringing my shirt dry of sweat. If this is some kind of lesson I need to learn, he should''ve sent me somewhere more, I don''t know, worse?


    But on the other hand, if this really was Earth, then that meant we lost, didn''t it?


    The Conquest came and went and marched onward through stars.


    Or not, and this reality just had nothing at all going for it.


    ¡°This sucks,¡± I muttered, tying my hair into a ponytail, keeping it from sticking to my face. ¡°Should¡¯ve just gone to the witch for some help instead. Who the hell does he think he is, flipping out on me like that?¡±


    The wasteland around me answered with howling, gusty winds that shoved dust into my face and into my mouth.


    A woman stood in front of me, the gust of wind snapping the cape behind her in the wind. She was the gust of violent wind a second ago. I stood, my sneakers crunching in the dirt as we stared at one another. She was taller than me. More regal. Had dad¡¯s posture with her squared shoulders and raised chin, narrowed golden eyes and dark eyebrows. She kinda looks like me. The longer we waited, the more I figured that hell, she might actually be me. The costume almost gave it away, except it was black and red, the bolt on her chest a deep shade of filthy gold. Her cape flowed behind her, a tattered, long black rag. She feels like dad. She looked at me the same way he always did. Anger. Disapproval. Like I was this tiny little insect that had somehow stolen his powers and tried to make them my own, and that made me tense. Made my muscles tighten and my fists reflexively tighten so hard they cracked.


    It was instinctual to tense for our kind. To either fucking run, or dare to fight and possibly die.


    Neither happened, because all she did was cock an eyebrow. ¡°Where¡¯s your uniform?¡±


    Uniform? I stayed silent for a moment, watching her watch me. Her eyes were fully golden, bright like dad¡¯s, maybe even a fraction sharper. I swallowed, trying to relax, but every hair on my body was upright, scared as all hell. She folded her arms and tapped her finger against her bicep. It felt like a countdown. A warning to hurry.


    ¡°I¡­lost it,¡± I lied. She unfolded her arms and hovered closer. I backed up. ¡°It¡¯s kinda been a long¡ª¡±


    Her hand wrapped around my throat in an instant, snapping the air out of me. My face burned. I clawed at her fingers, trying to pry them off, choking on what felt like liquid fire that bubbled around my lips as saliva. And not once did her face move on from slight curiosity as she lifted me off the ground and brought me closer to her.


    So close that I could see the faint scar splitting her eyebrow. The same one Adam had given me.


    The same one Adam had given us.


    Her brows raised the same time mine did.


    Then her eyes narrowed, and her mouth twisted into a snarl. ¡°Another one of you clones,¡± she muttered. ¡°Gods, I told them the fucking humans weren¡¯t done trying to mimic us yet. Godsdamned roaches scurrying around in their little underground tunnels. Tenacity and stupidity, one and the same. Where were you made? How long have you been alive?¡± She shook me. I gasped, my head going light. She sighed and dropped me onto my hands and knees, and I stayed there underneath her, coughing and gagging, saliva dribbling out of my mouth. I massaged my throat and knuckled away the spit, got to one knee, and fucking bolted. I skimmed across the desert floor, a tidal wave of dust in my wake ripping apart the ground. Heart beating. Lungs burning. And then a shadow passed me.


    It passed me so fast I barely had the time to blink before she was in front of me.


    Next thing I knew, I was spinning through the air and then slamming into the ground, over and over again like a stone skipping across a lake. I tumbled and whacked against the ground, finally smacking into another out crop of stone that suddenly stopped me. I groaned. Shook my head. Didn¡¯t even see what she¡¯d smacked me with, but I couldn¡¯t afford to wait. I got up, then my foot buckled and I fell. Fuck, come on, not now. I glanced at my leg, and somewhere along my one thousand mile an hour tumble, I¡¯d lost my sneaker, and my foot looked puffy and red. I flinched as large slabs of decrepit, sun-burnt old concrete slammed into the dirt around me, a chorus of archaic rock thumping into the dirt. I tried to stand, flinched when I put weight on my leg, then chose to hop into the air.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The shadow appeared over me again, and this time, she didn¡¯t waste any time putting her boot to the back of my head and smashing me into the soil. My brain felt like it smacked against the side of my skull, bouncing from end to end and dizzying me numb. She picked me up by the hair. Blood dribbled from my nose. I tried to gather my bearings, to put the world back together¡ªtoo many sounds, too many colors; what the hell was she shouting about, but I guess it didn¡¯t matter, not as she smashed the back of her hand against my mouth, shocking me back to reality.


    ¡°Where,¡± she demanded, getting us nice and close, ¡°are the rest of you hiding?¡±


    ¡°You tell me,¡± I wheezed, blood bubbling from my split lip. ¡°I just got here.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re new,¡± she muttered, lips twisting in disgust. ¡°Must have some kind of defect if you¡¯re running around all by yourself. You look too old to be stuck in premature development. Your powers haven¡¯t manifested to their fullest yet.¡± She looked like dad. She spoke like dad. My gut coiled with anger, but I bit down on my tongue, because if there¡¯s one thing that I¡¯ve learnt, it¡¯s that trying to fight my kind¡ªtrying to fight myself¡ªwas a terrible idea for my overall health. ¡°I swear, they can¡¯t get any of them right, can they? Who made you? Answer me, clone.¡±


    ¡°We came from the same bed that mom and dad hooked up on, genius,¡± I muttered, my words slurring. My tongue was a cut up mess, chewed by how many times my face grinded along the dirt as I¡¯d skipped along all of it.


    ¡°Gods,¡± she muttered, then threw me back to the soil, leaving me gasping and aching in a crater.


    Then, for a moment, I thought she¡¯d put her fist through me as she landed above me. Her legs were either side of my torso. I tried to move, but she grabbed me by the hair and crouched, flexing her fingers. She paused, sighed, and looked just to my left. I glanced over, but there was nothing except rubble and upturned dirt. ¡°I know,¡± she said quietly, fingers yanking my hair even more, making me bite down on a scream. ¡°But you know how bad these things are. They wander around until they either find trouble or come together to create even more trouble.¡±


    Who the hell is she even talking to right now?


    She swore, tossing my head to the side as if she was even disgusted by the fact she was touching me. She stood and put her hands on her hips, sighing under her breath. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I might as well get it back to the rest of them. Maybe try to figure out where it came from. Can¡¯t hurt to jog its memory a little bit.¡±


    Then she looked down at me, the sun just over her head blindingly bright. ¡°Last chance, clone.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a clone,¡± I groaned in pain, sitting upright with one hell of an effort. ¡°I¡¯m the real deal.¡±


    ¡°Delusional,¡± she said. ¡°Incapable of full thought. Must¡¯ve gotten out of your developmental chamber too early. I¡¯d almost feel bad about what¡¯s happening to you, but¡­well, Earth¡¯s already ours. I might as well have fun.¡±


    I didn¡¯t like the sound of that, but it wasn¡¯t me that got put into the dirt in the very next second.


    Somehow, even faster than the one in black and red, another flicker of gold slammed her into the dirt. I cringed against the blast of dust that whipped against my face, rolling me over several times, only bruising me up some more. I slowly got up, trying not to choke on the muck of blood and soil stuck in my throat. Is that another one? I hated where this was going. Really didn¡¯t want to see where this was going. So I made the decision to get up and run, or I would have, if I wasn¡¯t tackled into the dirt again, skidding along the soil so harshly both red and I made a divot in the soil. We stopped. She raised her fist, face feral and teeth bared. I braced, arms raised to block her and hoping to the Gods she didn¡¯t put her fist through my forearms and into my skull. But the blow didn¡¯t come.


    I waited, and waited, then opened my eyes, huffing underneath her, choking on the dust.


    And saw a woman standing over both of us. A woman with a short frock of blonde hair that was slowly turning black from the roots. Her eyes were a stark, icy blue, and her smile was infectiously wide, but she stood tall and proud, wearing a white costume accented with blue and red and, of course, the golden lightning bolt on her chest. She had her fingers wrapped around red¡¯s wrist, stopping her from moving. I remained tense, hurting, blood on my lips and spilling from cuts on my face, watching as red whirled around, her free fist cutting through the air.


    The gust of wind that erupted from the impact shook the ground underneath me. It was a clean cut hook. A bare knuckle punch that slammed into the taller woman¡¯s jaw. But nothing happened. She barely even moved.


    ¡°Guess that means it¡¯s my turn,¡± she said.


    I¡¯d like to describe what happened next, but I¡¯ll come clean and say that I was just too slow to see it. My eyes couldn¡¯t keep track of what happened. One moment they were on top of me. The next second they were a storm of golden light and dust pinging around the sky above me, blowing apart the clouds. I lay there on the soil, gaping at the arcs of golden light slamming into each other again and again until, finally, in the same second it took me to


    blink and swallow, red slammed into the dirt beside me¡ªlimp. I winced and backpedaled, getting off the floor. I waited for her to get up and kill me. To lunge at me and put her hand through me. Instead, her arm was twisted around her throat like a noose. Where her arm used to be was a meaty web of veins and arteries spilling blood onto the soil. She remained unconscious, face down in the soil, but she was alive. I could hear her heartbeat and her labored breathing. That¡¯s my cue to run. When I turned to leave, tall, blonde, and powerful was standing right there.


    When I bumped into her, she was like a brick wall. No, harder than that, because I¡¯ve felt a couple of those in my time. I took a step backward, looking up at her. Hands on her hips, smiling down at me softly. No teeth. Just lips. ¡°Sorry I got here so late,¡± she said. ¡°Long trip, busy schedule, too many days in a week and too few hours in a day. You know how it goes.¡± She stuck out her hand, paused, then excused herself as she walked past me. Red was getting off the ground again, and goddamn, she was one hell of a unit. Her severed arm slipped off her neck and dropped to the ground as she kneeled. She used her good arm to wipe the blood from underneath her nose. Hate was in her eyes, burning bright and golden at the two of us. But this wasn¡¯t my fight, because the other one¡ªthe other me¡ªgrabbed her by the cape, wrapped it tightly around her head, and threw her so hard into the sky I could only freaking wish I ever had that kind of gas in my arm. We both watched her disappear into the sky, so far she vanished.


    ¡°How¡­¡± I shook my head in amazement, then looked at the lady glancing over her shoulder.


    ¡°She¡¯ll probably crash down somewhere over what used to be Europe in a day or two, and she will not be happy, tell you what, so we should probably start getting acquainted, don¡¯t you think, Ry?¡± she said, heading over to me. She stopped and stuck out her hand, and I very tentatively took it¡ªas soon as our fingers touched, golden static bit my fingertips. She grabbed hold of my hand and shook. ¡°Gods, it¡¯s like looking into a younger mirror of myself, and I forgot how badly we used to have it. All those beat downs really did a number on our nose, huh? Spoiler alert, but a healing factor does not fix crooked noses and bent teeth¡ªthey just replace them, so for my sake, just try not to get hit in the face so much. Plus you¡¯ll get headaches at some point that won¡¯t leave, like, ever, and that¡¯s what we call a really bad concussion. So always protect that dome of yours. It¡¯s got important bits inside it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said, pulling my hand away. ¡°Are you¡ª¡±


    ¡°One and only,¡± she said, spreading her arms. ¡°I¡¯m Olympia, and welcome to the future.¡±

 Issue #63: The Walking, Talking, Calamity Club 2

    Color me stupid for not believing a single word of what she just said. I stared at her, the cuts and bruises around my face and body slowly healing underneath the harsh sun. She¡¯s gotta be some kind of shapeshifter. Those weren¡¯t very common. At least, I never came across any that were sane enough to hold a proper conversation. I figured that she was waiting for me to be impressed by this grand old reveal, with her grand smile and wide spread arms. But yeah, right. The future? Who the hell did she take me for? It had been one hell of a year so far for someone who¡¯d just graduated high school a few months ago, but this was kinda ridiculous. If this is the future, I¡¯m a college grad.


    The woman folded her arms and nodded. ¡°Spoiler, but we are. Bachelors in journalism from Olympus U.¡±


    I gagged and blew a raspberry. ¡°A superhero that does journalism. Gee, how original.¡± I ignored that tiny little tidbit about her finishing my thought, but come on¡ªthe guy in the suit said he could see into my mind, so of course this figment of his imagination can finish my sentences. I turned around and gave her a half-heated wave of thanks, I guess. ¡°I don¡¯t know who you are, lady, but thanks for the assist, but I was wearing down the chick in red.¡±


    She laughed dryly. ¡°We both know you¡¯d have gotten your head severed from your throat.¡±


    ¡°Me?¡± I asked, jerking my thumb at myself. ¡°Lose to some cheap evil knock-off Olympia?¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± she said, suddenly in front of me. I didn¡¯t flinch¡ªI was getting pretty used to people doing that, and it was about time someone did something more flashy. ¡°You still think all of this is some kind of illusion, right?¡±


    ¡°How couldn¡¯t it be?¡± I asked her, waving my hand around us. ¡°This place is a desert, that chick was just evil Rylee who, lemme guess, went over to the Conquest, and now I¡¯m supposed to learn some kinda lesson about how I¡¯ve got some weird potential for evil, and then this is gonna end in me giving up my powers for the greater good, blah, blah, fucking blah.¡± Yeah, that¡¯s right, people, I¡¯m smarter than some broad who punches things really hard. ¡°I¡¯m a superhero, plain and simple. Some people might not like it, but if that guy in the suit conjured you up to help teach me that somewhere inside of me I can be an even better superhero, then that¡¯s a really shitty plan.¡±


    She tilted her head a little. ¡°Gods, it¡¯s a miracle I didn¡¯t die earlier in life from getting drunk off being cynical,¡± Older Me muttered. I was about to give her some more of what I thought until she put up her hand. ¡°You don¡¯t have to believe me, because trust me, I didn¡¯t either when this whole thing happened to me. Life¡¯s been ass and summer was tough, and now your skin is a little thicker, but unfortunately, so was our skull. It wouldn¡¯t kill you to trust someone, at least yourself, Ry.¡± Her voice softened. ¡°And I know that¡¯s not really what you want to hear right now, not after Rhea. But take it from someone who did actually live through all of this¡ªtrust the pilot, OK?¡±


    The wind pushed my hair over my shoulder and hers against her cheeks. I couldn¡¯t help but admit that she really did look just like me, or what I¡¯d want to look like eventually. She must be as tall as mom, maybe as strong as dad, but I also had to figure out why her eyes were blue and she could still beat the chick with the full set of golden eyes. Unless this is the guy in the suit telling me that ¡®being human is being stronger¡¯ or whatever. I sighed and massaged my temples. She let me mutter under my breath for a while, gathering my thoughts long enough to say:


    ¡°Prove it,¡± I told her, folding my arms. ¡°Prove that this is somehow the future, and that you¡¯re me.¡±


    ¡°Easy,¡± she said, one hand on her hip, the other pointing a finger at my chest. ¡°The mark on your chest would have hurt if this was an Alternate Realm. Remember the labyrinth with Circe? It stung the entire time you were down there. And besides, even if this was an Alternate Realm, this place wouldn¡¯t let you use your powers.¡±


    ¡°Bull,¡± I argued. ¡°Dominion put me into one, and I used my powers there, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°Dominion¡¯s a half-baked idiot that¡¯s gonna die from alcohol poisoning a few months from Christmas back in your timeline,¡± she said, waving her hand through the air. ¡°Either that, or the Olympiad is gonna say he died in the line of duty on foreign soil, but let¡¯s hope your reality doesn¡¯t take that route, unless you wanna join the army.¡±


    ¡°That still doesn¡¯t answer my question,¡± I said to her. The sun was only climbing higher, getting hotter.


    ¡°Rylee,¡± she said, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me. ¡°Think! Bloodforge had put you inside of an Alternate Realm, right?¡± I nodded, kinda feeling like I was being scolded by one of my old teachers. ¡°And you had your powers there for at least a short while before they started fritzing and nearly killed you, right?¡± Where are you even going with this, lady? ¡°In Dominion¡¯s, he was both way too weak to fully neutralize your powers, and second, he would have hurt you regardless because eventually, your powers would have given up on you. Is that clear?¡±


    ¡°Mm,¡± I hummed, then shook my head. ¡°Still not buying that you¡¯re from the future, or this is real.¡±


    She swore under her breath and muttered, ¡°Now I get why she found me such a pain to deal with last time around.¡± She looked around, then snapped her fingers. ¡°Look. I¡¯ve done this, and now you¡¯re doing this, but we¡¯re not even the only ones who have done this.¡± She waved her hand over her shoulder. ¡°There are more of us out there right now. Nearly countless realities with variations of us that span generations and timelines and on and on and on, and hell, I get why you wouldn¡¯t buy any of this. Thirteen was always a bastard to deal with, and if there¡¯s one thing you can trust me with, it¡¯s this: Bianca won¡¯t live if you stand here and keep doubting me. She¡¯ll never be the same girl who once held our hand in eighth grade bio, or the girl who kissed Olympia knowing in her heart it was you.¡± I


    froze, my mouth going dry. She let go of my shoulders and said, ¡°Rylee, Thirteen can only see what¡¯s inside your mind, but he can¡¯t see into the future, and if you need any more proof of me being who I say, then there¡¯s also this.¡±


    She slid her fingers underneath her collar and pulled out a necklace, one that still had the tiny golden bolt of lightning that Cleopatra gave me, and a wedding ring, too. Not mom¡¯s, but something I¡¯d never even seen before.


    ¡°If you¡¯re wondering,¡± she said, tucking it away again, ¡°she says yes before we even finish asking.¡±


    We¡­Me and¡­I ask¡­


    She put her arm out to catch me before I fell to the dirt. ¡°Yeah, figured as much.¡±


    I mean, it kinda made sense, didn¡¯t it? Or was I just kidding myself into thinking this way because this was the future I actually lived long enough to get on one knee and actually pop the questions which is, like, holy shit, you know? I hadn¡¯t felt this hot underneath my clothes in ages. My head was a mess of thoughts. My gut was a mess of emotions and feelings that were stirring around and frothing into some sickeningly sweet boil until I puked onto the soil at my feet. I groaned and spat, waving Older Me off so I could hunch over and dry heave until it was only saliva dribbling out of my mouth. Bianca Addams. Rylee Ross. Fuck me, Thirteen hated my guts¡ªhe wanted to show me the consequences of what would happen to the world if I chose to keep fighting¡ªso why would he show me a version of myself that would make it easier to know that I do actually save Bianca. That, however small, there was a shot of me being able to beat the supervillains, save the day, and get with Bianca. Would he really conjure up a version of Olympia that was old enough to beat a fully grown Arkathian without using a droplet of her powers?


    Of course, this could all be some illusion still, but¡­ Why? Why would he show me hope if all he wanted to do at first was show me that I was some massive failure just waiting to happen? That just didn¡¯t make any sense.


    She patted my back and gently squeezed my shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s Ross. Roles off the tongue easier.¡±


    I slowly straighten up again, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand. ¡°We saved her?¡±


    ¡°We saved her.¡±


    ¡°And¡­I don¡¯t have to give up being a superhero?¡±


    ¡°Look at me,¡± she said. ¡°This doesn¡¯t look like a suit and tie.¡±


    ¡°So there¡¯s a chance?¡± I whispered. ¡°That I¡¯m good enough to do it?¡±


    ¡°Welllll,¡± she said, her voice waning.


    ¡°Well?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m not you per say, but a version of you,¡± she explained. ¡°But this¡¯ll be a lot easier to explain with the others so I don¡¯t have to give you all this speech over and over again. Besides, more Legionnaires are gonna be on their way soon the second they realize the atmosphere is being warped by us two. Follow me? Keep up if you can.¡± With that, she was in the sky, parting the clouds like a bullet. I watched her, my mouth only slightly open, my cheeks pulling into a tight smile. A part of me was hesitant, scared¡ªlabel it whatever you want, but trusting a guy like that with anything was a big red flag, but¡­ I told myself it wasn¡¯t just the ring that dragged me into the sky after her, but also the scent of Bianca¡¯s perfume lingering on her body, too. Besides, there¡¯s a hickey on her neck.


    All I¡¯m doing is investigating where that bruise came from after she¡¯d tugged down her collar. What can I say? I¡¯m just making sure that future me isn¡¯t developing some kind of blood clot. Those things can kill, you know.


    It was nearly night by the time we reached a cluster of lights glowing softly below us. Keeping up with her had been one hell of a challenge, I¡¯ll admit. She was consistently fast, not sporadically like me. I just wasn¡¯t used to flying long distances like she was apparently, because we¡¯d been going about mach two for several hours straight, and that nearly threw me right out of the sky out of pure exhaustion. Gotta work on that cardio, Ry. Fighting and flying was easy, mostly because the people I fought came apart like jelly. I guess I still wasn¡¯t really using my powers the way I should be. No breaks. No shade. Hours and hours underneath the scathing sunlight, burning my arms as I copied her.


    I usually flew with my arms by my side, but I¡¯d figured to change that up a little and stretched them out, just as she was doing. She¡¯d almost smirked at me as I did, and maybe it was in my head, but she¡¯d flown even faster. You couldn¡¯t even blame me for plummeting to the ground as soon as we stopped. I groaned onto my hands and knees, thirsty and exhausted and covered in sweat that caked my t-shirt. My back and shoulders burned as I let my arms hang loosely either side of me, and Gods above, she still had enough energy to hover above the small collection of tents we¡¯d landed inside of. I wasn¡¯t complaining, by the way. I took that time to catch a breather.


    ¡°You look like you¡¯re about to barf or die,¡± a voice said, which was true¡ªI¡¯d found a short stool to sit on beside one of the larger green canvas tents. Didn¡¯t even bother trying to find out why we were here or who lived in these things¡ªI¡¯d have probably shriveled away if I did. I looked up from my feet, loose strands of hair hanging in front of my face, expecting to see Older Me, but this wasn¡¯t her. It was someone else. A chick in costume¡ªred lower half, blue upper half, golden lightning bolt on her chest, wearing a leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up¡ªhad her hands on her hips as she looked me over. Another one? Her hair looked fuller. Healthier. A lot more blonde, a lot less rat¡¯s nest with brown strands, like mine. Freckle-less cheeks. Scarless face. She looked like some actress.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    The kind of actresses on movie posters you¡¯d see back home promoting a new Olympia movie.


    A movie, mind you, that I never saw any money from. Not judging¡¯, just sayin¡¯.


    I mean, hell, to top it off, she had a pair of aviators resting on her head. She screamed L.A.


    ¡°Lemme guess,¡± I muttered, wincing as I straightened my posture. ¡°You¡¯re also Olympia?¡±


    ¡°¡®Course I am,¡± she said, grinning. ¡°Must¡¯ve heard about me from my new show. Autograph?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m you, dumbass,¡± I said, very slowly standing up. Her boots made her a little taller, and she also very much smelt like Emelia¡ªclean, washed, and expensive. ¡°If I wanted an autograph, I¡¯d write down my own name.¡±


    Her nose wrinkled, maybe from the smell of caked blood and dried sweat on me, but that was just a guess. ¡°Just because you¡¯re the homeless version of me doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯ve got to be rude. That¡¯s the kind of attitude that makes you poor, like, always. Forever. All the time.¡± Her eyes undressed me from head to toe. ¡°Where¡¯s your gear?¡±


    ¡°Try fighting a giant Kaiju several times over and see if your costume holds up.¡±


    ¡°That makes zero sense,¡± she said. ¡°Don¡¯t you have more than one?¡±


    ¡°Well, not really, but¡ª¡±


    She patted my shoulder, but only slightly¡ªshe wiped her fingerless gloves on her thigh afterward. ¡°There, there, things get a lot easier if you have a better attitude. I mean, when I started being Olympia, I had way too many outfits I could pick from. It was too much of a headache, so I hired someone to pick them out for me depending on the day, you know?¡± She nodded, and I was kinda starting to hate this version of myself. ¡°I mean, how else are the people who cheer me on supposed to know that doing what we do is glamorous? They¡¯re supposed to be motivated by us, but if you go flying around in your stinky old, stitched up costume, day in and day out, never ever washing it unless it smells like the insides of some weird giant monster, then everyone will think this superhero gig sucks.¡±


    I cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Have you ever fought anything that¡¯s not just your hair brush in the morning?¡±


    She snorted. ¡°Yeah, like, all the time.¡±


    ¡°Then how do you keep the nail polish on?¡± I asked, folding my arms.


    She brandished her fingers, wriggling them. ¡°Like ¡®em? They¡¯re from my new makeup line.¡±


    ¡°You know what?¡± I said, brushing past her. ¡°I¡¯m sick of you already. Where¡¯s the older one of us?¡±


    ¡°She usually circles for about half an hour,¡± someone else said, pushing open a tent flap. It was a guy this time around. Messy blonde hair, wearing a white t-shirt and Olympus U varsity jacket, torn blue jeans and sneakers. The same necklace I had dangling in front of my shirt was doing the same for him. ¡°Making sure that if we do have to bolt, we can do it without getting caught off guard.¡± He stopped in front of me and offered a hand. ¡°Olympia?¡±


    I shook his hand, but not after we both winced from the jolt of electricity. ¡°Yeah, and you¡¯re¡­?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m also Olympia,¡± he said, shrugging. ¡°I usually prefer All-Star, but since everyone¡¯s doing it¡­¡±


    I sighed under my breath. ¡°There¡¯s more?¡±


    ¡°Yep!¡± the girl with the leather jacket said. ¡°Two more. Think they¡¯re asleep. You took ages to get here.¡±


    ¡°You guys knew I was coming?¡± I asked them, and before you start wondering: yes, this is a mind fuck as much as it is for me as it is for you, but since nobody else was freaking out, I figured that maybe I should also relax and not start trying to fight people for information, as any reasonable person would probably be doing, right?


    We all turned at once, hearing an eruption of wind far, far into the distance. I squinted my eyes and watched something glint through the sky¡ªsomething black and sleek, metallic and shiny. Then it vanished a second later, followed by Older Me¡ªOlder Us?¡ªa moment later. I could barely track her through the sky, too.


    ¡°She¡¯s fuckin¡¯ fast,¡± the guy beside me muttered.


    I folded my arms. ¡°Bet I could do that, too.¡±


    ¡°Doubt it,¡± he said, patting my shoulder. ¡°I heard you wheezing about an hour before you got here.¡±


    ¡°I call bull on that.¡± We turned, and there sitting at a long wooden table, where most of the tiny orange fairy lights were hung around, was a chick in a suit, her blazer on the bench and a cigarette packet beside her. I didn¡¯t know where she came from. Maybe she¡¯d been there the entire time. She looked more like Older Me than I did, with her short, messy hair, and bags of exhaustion underneath her eyes. She smelt of sweat and smoke and the stuffiness of an office. ¡°You could barely hear that Legionnaire that tried to take you out a few days ago, bucko.¡±


    ¡°I was half asleep!¡± he said. ¡°And I kinda just got dumped on my head, so I¡¯m sorry I was a little dazed.¡±


    The girl in the suit snorted. ¡°Yeah, right. Hey, new chick. Tell me you heard the one that attacked you.¡±


    I sucked air through my teeth. ¡°I¡¯m on this dude¡¯s side. She smacked me around before I even noticed.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s why you look like this,¡± he muttered. ¡°No offence.¡±


    ¡°Part of the Olympia package, right?¡± I said, shrugging. ¡°You get your head banged a few times.¡±


    ¡°Maybe that¡¯s why both of you got beat up,¡± Suit muttered, tapping out a cigarette. ¡°You¡¯re kinda deaf.¡±


    ¡°Symptoms of actually fighting crime,¡± I said, sitting on the table, not the bench, facing the open desert with my back to Suit over here. ¡°Instead of, I don¡¯t know, being in an office all day long, doing spreadsheets.¡±


    She flicked her cigarette at me. ¡°I¡¯m a government official, thank you very much.¡±


    ¡°Ew,¡± said Leather Jacket, folding her hands. ¡°No wonder your face is breaking out. Offence, this time.¡±


    Suit jerked her thumb at her and looked at me. ¡°You hate her just as much as I do, right?¡±


    ¡°I think,¡± the guy said, sitting on the bench, ¡°that we should introduce ourselves so this gets a lot easier for all of us, because I kinda have this internal monologue thing going on right now and it¡¯s really hard to keep up.¡±


    ¡°What are you, an idiot?¡± Suit asked. ¡°We¡¯re all Olympia, and we¡¯re all Rylee, right? I¡¯m just the best.¡±


    I laughed dryly and rolled my eyes. ¡°You? The best? You work for the freaking government, sell out.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s better than writing comic books for zero dollars an hour,¡± she said. ¡°Heard of health insurance?¡±


    The guy clapped his hands, making us all flinch with the small thunderous clap resonating through my skull. He had this quarterback authority to him. A hard jaw and straight nose and strong shoulders of someone that would probably be in charge of almost every single team he¡¯d ever been on. ¡°I¡¯ll start,¡± he said, after we¡¯d all fallen quiet. ¡°I¡¯m Riley, spelt R-I-L-E-Y. Usually go by All-Star, ¡®cause Olympia just wasn¡¯t on the market for me. Got stuck here after some guy duped me into believing he was gonna help me save someone I cared about, so¡­yeah.¡± He sat down, elbows on the table, then gestured with his hand. ¡°Well, go on. We¡¯ve got time to kill, so you next.¡±


    Suits sighed and lit another cigarette. She swung one leg off the bench and leaned on the table. ¡°Olympia. Nineteen. R-Y-L-E-I-G-H. Dumped here before any of you bozos showed up late to the party because I got sent on a piece accord to England. I also don¡¯t do the whole ¡®superhero¡¯ thing anymore, so I usually just use my first name.¡±


    ¡°Shill, much?¡± I muttered. She shot me a look.


    ¡°Okay, my turn,¡± Leather Jacket said, putting her hands on the table. ¡°So my name¡¯s R-H-Y-L-I-E, I come from the West Coast, because judging from all your pale skin, I doubt any of you do. Uh¡­Right. Been Olympia for literally my entire life, which has rocked so far, and I got here because I went to bed one morning in my penthouse, you guys know what that is, right? Anyway, I had a crazy after party. Lots of partying. Must¡¯ve taken something off brand, because I got this nasty headache, then I remembered seeing this guy in my bedroom, and now here I am!¡±


    ¡°You really are an idiot,¡± Ryleigh muttered (Suits¡ªeasier to remember this way, I¡¯ll be honest).


    ¡°A rich idiot who doesn¡¯t lick America¡¯s boots for ten bucks an hour,¡± Leather Jacket said.


    ¡°It¡¯s actually twenty bucks an hour, dumb broad,¡± Suits muttered.


    ¡°Fancy, Miss Minimum Wage,¡± I said, making the movie star snort with laughter. ¡°Like you guessed, I¡¯m Rylee. R-Y-L-E-E, the correct spelling.¡± Before any of them could argue with me on that, I said, ¡°And I was sent here a lot like you, quarterback. I thought I¡¯d get help trying to find a friend of mine, but he turned out to be a nut job.¡±


    ¡°Hang on a sec,¡± Quarterback said, looking at the movie star. ¡°You¡¯ve been Olympia since childhood?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Uh huh. I¡¯ve had my powers since I was born.¡±


    ¡°Must¡¯ve been nice,¡± the three of us muttered.


    ¡°Um, hi¡­everyone,¡± a soft voice said. We turned to look at the final of five large tents loosely arranged in a large circle. A scrawny blonde girl with a buzzcut stood with her hands in front of her, a loose orange jumpsuit hanging off her shoulders, and large glasses awkwardly sitting on her face. Who the hell is this? I know how that sounded, considering I was in the process of talking to myself right now, but she didn¡¯t even feel like us. Being around our kind leaves your skin feeling slightly irritated, almost rubbed against the wrong way. Even now, every once in a while, each of us would twitch or scratch or pick our nails, trying to satiate the annoyance on our flesh.


    But her? She just felt like a human.


    ¡°Are you lost?¡± Suits asked her.


    ¡°Thought you said you came here before everyone,¡± I said. ¡°Don¡¯t you know her?¡±


    ¡°She does,¡± Quarterback muttered. ¡°She¡¯s just being an asshole.¡±


    He waved her over, patting the seat beside himself. She sat stiffly, almost scared straight with Suits looking at her through her hanging cloud of smoke. Her eyes darted briefly toward me, then away. ¡°I¡¯m, uh¡ª¡±


    ¡°Reily, we know,¡± Suits said. She waved her hand through the air, then looked at me. ¡°You¡¯ve got muscles on you, unlike the rest of these chumps. Me personally? I bench two hundred tons. Bet I can beat you in a pinch.¡±


    ¡°Oh, please,¡± I said. ¡°Arms like that? Most you lift is someone else¡¯s stack of work folders.¡±


    ¡°Work folders?¡± she asked me. ¡°They¡¯re called files. Documents. Gods, you people are thick.¡±


    ¡°Calling people stupid over and over won¡¯t make you any nicer to look at, honey,¡± Leather Jacket said.


    Suits scoffed. ¡°Coming from the ¡®superhero¡¯ with painted fingernails?¡±


    ¡°You really should lay off on her,¡± I said. ¡°At least she¡¯s not bent over some desk for Uncle Sam.¡±


    She suddenly stood, spreading her arms. ¡°It¡¯s a stable job and I get to save the world!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I bet,¡± Quarterback muttered. ¡°But is that after the quarterly sales meeting?¡±


    A hand patted my shoulder, and there stood Older Me, not even a bead of sweat on her forehead. ¡°Don¡¯t pretend like you also don¡¯t work for a branch of the government, too,¡± she said to me. Didn¡¯t even hear her arrive. How powerful is this chick? ¡°And yeah, yeah, I know they don¡¯t pay you, but still¡ªpot calling the kettle black in a few years¡¯ time, trust me.¡± She clapped her hands and smiled at us. ¡°But now that we¡¯re all here, it¡¯s time for the big


    welcome: my name is Olympia. I stopped going by Rylee¡ªR-Y-L-E-E¡ª¡±¡ªI stuck my tongue out to the rest of them¡ª¡°a really long time ago, and the reason you¡¯re all here at the same time is pretty simple. What you¡¯re all experiencing right now is what I like to call a Calamity Event. Think of it like the moment in time when dad died.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Leather Jacket asked. ¡°Dad is doing just fine, last I checked. Old and cranky, but totally alive.¡±


    Silence hung in the air between us for a while, until Suits said, ¡°You¡¯re either really lucky¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªor you¡¯re about to have the worst couple years of your life,¡± I finished.


    Quarterback patted her shoulder and said, ¡°You should probably sit.¡±


    Older Me sucked air through her teeth. ¡°Spoiler? Sorry ¡®bout that. Maybe you¡¯ll be lucky enough not to have to experience that, but at the end of the day, how lucky is it to have him around, huh?¡± We all grimly laughed quietly, almost bitterly, except for the one wearing the glasses and prison jumpsuit. And Leather Jacket, too, who was staring at each of us, her face suddenly ghostly pale. ¡°Back to the Calamity Event: you¡¯re all about to have your lives drastically changed in the next few months, maybe years, depending on what happens right now.¡± She folded her arms, suddenly looking a lot more Arkathian than human, despite her normal eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll be honest, there should have been more of us here, but as you can tell, we¡¯ve got a miniscule chance of actually living this long, or not getting killed to live long enough to see this all happen. My job is to make sure that you all survive, alright?¡±


    ¡°Hold on,¡± I said, getting off the table. ¡°But what¡¯s this got to do with the future?¡±


    ¡°Or the cunt that sent us here?¡± Suit asked.


    ¡°And that¡¯s the Calamity Event,¡± Olympia told us. ¡°We rarely ever live past it.¡±


    ¡°Um¡­¡± The girl in the jumpsuit raised her hand, then quietly asked, ¡°Who¡¯s gonna kill us?¡±


    She stayed silent for a moment, chewing her tongue. We remained quiet, watching her search the sky, then each of our faces. Her jaw tensed, then she said, ¡°It¡¯s usually a ¡®what¡¯ that gets rid of us, and her name is Bianca.¡±

 Issue #64: The Walking, Talking, Calamity Club 3

    ¡°I need you to explain this to me like I¡¯m five,¡± Quarterback said, breaking the silence. ¡°So you¡¯re saying Bianca, Ben¡¯s older sister, is gonna try to kill me? I think that¡¯s pretty hard to do when you¡¯re very much dead, right?¡±


    ¡°Opposites, genius,¡± Suits said. ¡°It¡¯s Bianca for us, and I guess Ben for you. Shouldn¡¯t be hard.¡±


    ¡°Ryleigh¡¯s on the money,¡± Olympia said, nodding. ¡°Let¡¯s get the basics down first, so this doesn¡¯t get a little too hard to understand, so I¡¯m gonna need everyone to focus and ask questions when they¡¯re confused. We all flunked middle school and barely graduated high school, but if there¡¯s ever in your life you needed to pay attention to anyone that isn¡¯t the monologue inside your head, it¡¯s right now. Clear?¡± She looked at all of us. We nodded, but come on, it¡¯s us we¡¯re talking about. We¡¯re nodding just to find out more and to satiate her, but¡­well, according to her, Bianca is gonna be gunning to kill me soon. I was taking everything she said almost at face value. Didn¡¯t want to end up in another whacky situation like I have for the past several months because some broad tricked me again.


    She snapped her fingers and we all visibly perked up. Olympia sighed. ¡°See what I¡¯m talking about?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re listening,¡± Quarterback said, arms folded. ¡°For sure, this time.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± she said. ¡°I need you to take this very seriously.¡± She stood at the head of the wooden bench, and  that meant it was time for the rest of us to focus and sit down. Tiny campfires crackled around us, snapping into piles of kindling and desert shrubs. The night was almost entirely silent. So deathly silent it was kind of hard to believe that it was Earth I was hearing. I¡¯d gotten so used to the bark of gunfire and the shriek of someone in danger for the past five years that sitting here felt so alien.Wrong. ¡°We¡¯ll start with how you got here. When this happened to me, I got told that it was because several split second Fractures happened at the same time. Everyone following?¡±


    We nodded, some (the actress) a little more hesitantly.


    ¡°Now, learning what a Fracture does is simple: it does what its name implies. Your reality is fragmented into shards, and through that, you¡¯re able to see how every miniscule decision you ever make can change your life. For example, Riley?¡± He paid extra attention now, like his coach just barked at him. ¡°Did dad ever play sports with you? He did the whole American nuclear family lifestyle, right? All-American kid next door. Football team. Good enough grades. Then when the world needs you, you go off and slip into your costume and try to save the day.¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah, I guess so,¡± he said, scratching the back of his head. ¡°For a while that was true, yeah.¡±


    She then looked at me dead. ¡°Dad hated your guts? He had specific cutlery he¡¯d use that you weren¡¯t allowed to touch because he got sick of the notion that you and him would ever even touch the same things, right?¡±


    They all looked at me. Even Glasses stopped staring at the table and glanced upward. I folded my arms and snorted, because what the hell kind of attack was that? ¡°I mean, sometimes. Not all the time. He still kinda cared.¡±


    Olympia continued. ¡°And that big of a difference was literally just because one thing was different during your conceptions. I mean, you three girls could have ended up like one another in a heartbeat, but at some point in time, your powers came in differently, and you all had different reactions.¡± She looked at me. ¡°Some of us didn¡¯t have any other option than to chase a ghost for most of our lives.¡± Her voice softened. ¡°In short, this isn¡¯t really the future, either. This is just a chance. But here¡¯s the catch: anything that¡¯s older than you guys is a chance for all of your future¡¯s. All of this?¡± She waved her hand around at the eternally silent dunes. ¡°This can and, for some of you, probably will be a possibility, because at some point, maybe even in the next few years, and if you¡¯re unlucky, the next few months, you¡¯re going to have to make a choice. And you¡¯re gonna fuck up. Big time. Then you¡¯re going to have to change because of that choice, and what that choice will lead you to become is either this, or something¡ª¡±


    I put up my hand and said, ¡°The Conquest. You¡¯re saying that they¡¯re gonna be here that soon?¡±


    My question hung in the air, drying the already hot and harsh winds even more.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said, straightening. ¡°Soon, Earth will be at the Empire¡¯s mercy.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s kinda bigger than our school crush, isn¡¯t it?¡± Suits asked. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t that be the Calamity Event?¡±


    ¡°Weirdly enough, no, it isn¡¯t,¡± Olympia said. We all had something to say in that same moment, but got silenced when she put her hand up. ¡°What makes a Calamity Event is the coincidence of specific situations we¡¯ll all face. Dad¡¯s death is a Calamity Event. Meeting Cleopatra is a Calamity Event. What I¡¯m trying to say is that they aren¡¯t always bad things, they¡¯re just life changing things. I mean, the Olympia who exists in this reality probably thinks that it¡¯s a good thing the Empire is here. She¡¯s one of them. She¡¯s a Legionnaire, just like dead old dad, and she¡¯s working her way up the ranks, and who knows, maybe she¡¯ll one day be in the King¡¯s Guard.¡± She took a moment to scan our faces, to listen to our silence. ¡°But what¡¯s going to happen with Bianca is what makes Earth¡¯s fight against the Arkathian Empire not a Calamity Event. Now, if you¡¯re all paying attention, can someone¡ª¡±


    ¡°We die,¡± Glasses whispered. We all looked at her, some a lot more bitter than others. ¡°We die before¡­¡±


    Olympia nodded slowly, her lips thin. ¡°I mean, look at us. In almost countless possibilities of our birth, our lives, and every single thing we do, only about seven of us make it far enough to even hear about any Calamity Events. The rest of us die when we¡¯re kids. Some hit this age and get into a situation they can¡¯t power their way through, and the rest of us¡­we get here, we listen to this, we come back home, and we die because of Bianca.¡±


    ¡°Hold on a fuckin¡¯ minute,¡± Suits said. ¡°So quintillions of us exist at some point, right?¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Olympia said, nodding.


    ¡°And by the time we¡¯re all, what, eighteen, maybe nineteen, we¡¯re almost all dead?¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± she said. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯ll give you all a pat on the back for even getting this far.¡±


    ¡°Dude,¡± Quarterback muttered, running a hand through his hair. ¡°We are fucked.¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    ¡°My head hurts,¡± murmured Actress, massaging her temples. ¡°I need an iced tea.¡±


    ¡°Rylee?¡± Olympia asked. I looked at her. ¡°You¡¯re more quiet than I thought you¡¯d be.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just wondering why I¡¯m here and not back home,¡± I said, resting an arm on the table. ¡°¡®Cause I¡¯ve been hearing the same shit for the past, like, six months. About how my existence is some kind of blight on the universe, and now fate wants me dead, and blah, blah, blah. She¡¯s tried. She¡¯s failed. Last I checked, I¡¯m alive. I deserve to be at least a little bit cocky compared to the rest of these guys. I¡¯ll figure out how to save Bianca, too.¡±


    ¡°What makes you so confident that you¡¯ll survive?¡± Suits asked me. ¡°There were nearly countless¡ª¡±


    ¡°Lemme guess, they also said the same thing, all brave and strong, then died?¡± I scoffed and waved my hand through the air, cutting through her bullshit. ¡°Difference between me and them is that I¡¯m actually strong.¡±


    ¡°Not strong enough,¡± Olympia said. ¡°True, you might have the most field experience, but you¡¯re also way too overconfident for someone I found getting beaten into the dirt by just one Legionnaire, never mind a higher ranking officer, or even someone from the royal bloodline. Trust me. Confidence only takes you so far, you know.¡±


    ¡°I mean, she¡¯s got a point, doesn¡¯t she?¡± Actress said. ¡°You didn¡¯t save dad from dying, did you?¡±


    ¡°I was a kid,¡± I said. ¡°I couldn¡¯t even fly back then.¡±


    ¡°Kids on Arkath have their full glowing eyes by the time they¡¯re thirteen,¡± Suits said. ¡°They¡¯d rip you in two if you fought one of those little bastards right now. And if we¡¯re talking field experience, you¡¯re second best.¡±


    ¡°What, to you?¡± I asked, laughing dryly. ¡°I¡¯d shatter your jaw the second you tried to touch me.¡±


    ¡°You know what? I¡¯d like to see you fucking try.¡±


    ¡°Guys!¡± Glasses yelled. Both Suits and I were already standing, and only paused when she spoke up. We both glared at her. She seemingly shrunk, nudged her glasses, then quietly continued. ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t want to get more people hurt. Where I come from, life is¡­good. Great. I want to keep it that way for as long as I can, but I also don¡¯t want to hurt Bianca to do it.¡± Her voice faltered, and so did her confidence, dragging her eyes back down onto the old wooden table. ¡°I¡¯ve lost one girlfriend before, and I don¡¯t want to lose another. Not Bianca. I promised her.¡±


    ¡°No way,¡± Actress muttered. ¡°She¡¯s the only one of us who asked her out?¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re missing her point,¡± Quarterback said. ¡°Because it¡¯s sounding a lot like she¡¯s right. We need to do a whole lot more right now to keep Bianca, or Ben, safe from the world, but also to stop them from hurting us, and we kind of all have a bad track record of accidentally putting our hands through chests, and I doubt anyone here wants to look either Ben or Bianca in the eyes as we do that. So let¡¯s chill out and actually learn something.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Olympia said, smiling. Dork, I thought, and judging by Suits¡¯ face, she had the same thought as we both grudgingly sat down again. ¡°Like I was saying, the chance and of us have of seeing our twenties is slim to almost none, but it¡¯s a chance. Thirteen didn¡¯t know he was going to smash us all together like this, because he¡¯s nowhere near where he needs to be mentally to cosmically envision his interactions with the universe.¡± We stared at her, and she sighed. ¡°Thirteen is mentally unstable, and has been since the moment he iced his father for his power.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± we all said in unison, dumbly.


    Silence lingered.


    Then: ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Like he told all of you, I¡¯m guessing,¡± she said, shrugging one shoulder. ¡°His father had a realization, and like us, their family is intertwined with almost everything, except he¡¯s way off his rocker. It¡¯s better you kill him.¡±


    Suits shifted uncomfortably. ¡°Kill him? He¡¯s a Threat Level Scarlet back home. Titan level shit.¡±


    Which, for the uninitiated, meant that we¡¯d all die very quickly and very suddenly if we tried.


    ¡°He¡¯s already a supervillain back in your reality?¡± Quarterback asked her.


    She nodded. ¡°We¡¯ve monitored his home for a decade now, before I joined. Clementine made sure to keep the psychokinetic check marks around the manor in place to see if anything strange happened, but it was radio silent until the day he spazzed out and attacked me personally. It¡¯s been hell since then. Not because he¡¯s hard to deal with, even if he kinda is, but because the government has a hard time trying to figure out if we should just kill him on sight, or if a strike force is put together so he can be subdued, studied, and made to be an American patriot.¡±


    ¡°And you still choose to lick Uncle Sam¡¯s nuts,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°Fuck you, actually. I¡¯ve done more for the American citizen than you ever have.¡±


    ¡°So how do we do this?¡± Quarterback said louder than me, cutting off our argument. I was starting to really hate her, you know that? Gods, it was a good idea not joining those pricks in suits. ¡°Because he¡¯s hard to catch.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± I said. ¡°But honestly, I think I can take him.¡±


    ¡°No, Rylee, you can¡¯t,¡± Olympia said. ¡°He wanted to subdue you when you fought. He was toying with you, his mind wasn¡¯t fully settled¡ªhe was seeing voices and hearing shadows, the ones that cling to you and the ones that you haven¡¯t claimed yet. The guy¡¯s barely able to focus on anything more than a fractured train of thought, but if he did want you dead, he would have turned you inside out and ended this debacle in seconds.¡±


    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t he?¡± I asked. ¡°Because now he¡¯s gone and drawn a line in the sand.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Quarterback said, nodding. ¡°Now we have time to regroup and actually hurt him.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s confident,¡± Olympia said. ¡°The same moment we¡¯re all here together, he¡¯s gathering an almost endless amount of experience through his multitude of lives fighting against us. This Fracture moment isn¡¯t just for us, because he¡¯s gonna have a split second realization of what all of this means. For the first time in nearly a decade, he won¡¯t be hearing his dad¡¯s voice shattering his mind¡ªit¡¯ll be silent, and he¡¯ll be conscious, and he¡¯ll be ready to either kill you, or he¡¯ll turn a new leaf, but that¡¯s such a small chance of happening, you might as well not bother.¡±


    Glasses shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna kill him.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the only way something like this, or something worse, doesn¡¯t happen,¡± Olympia said.


    ¡°He¡¯s broken,¡± Glasses said, her naturally light voice pitching even higher. ¡°We should help him.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s kinda got our death in his dream journal,¡± Suits muttered.


    ¡°It¡¯s a hard decision, but being Olympia means making hard decisions,¡± Olympia herself said. ¡°You might not like what you¡¯ve got to do, but you have to do it, because nobody else is doing to save the day except you.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡± Actress pursed her lips as she fiddled with her fingers, then she said, ¡°I¡¯m not strong enough.¡±


    At that, we all stayed silent.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to kill him,¡± Glasses whispered, squeezing her eyes shut, shaking her head. ¡°Nobody else.¡± Her fingernails dug deep into the meat of her palms, drawing blood that stank of ozone. So raw and disgusting that my stomach turned the moment it hit the table. We all smelt it. We all suddenly looked at her and the liquid scarlet oozed out from between her fingers. She startled, then put her hands under the table, still shaking her head slowly.


    ¡°I think we should call it a night,¡± Olympia said quietly, mouth thin as she looked at Glasses. ¡°It¡¯s been a long day for all of you, and I¡¯m pretty sure there¡¯s been enough talk to make your heads hurt. Think it over tonight and understand everything. I¡¯ll be awake if you¡¯ve got any questions. But Gods, if you can, try to get some sleep. I know we don¡¯t do that enough on a regular basis, and some of us¡±¡ªshe looked at me¡ª¡°haven¡¯t slept in literally several months, so catch some rest, then we¡¯ll wake up early for some breakfast and start what I need to get done.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡± Quarterback asked her.


    ¡°Training,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s time you all started fighting like your blood is actually made out of gold.¡±

 Issue #65: Girl Talk (And Riley)

    I couldn¡¯t sleep, even if I really wanted to. There I was on that thin military cot, the loose woollen blanket over my legs getting snagged by the wind every other second. I remained awake, an arm behind my head, staring at the blown out lantern hanging from the top of the large canvas tent I was staying in. We all got our own to live in, apart from Olympia, who¡¯d blasted off into the distance about an hour ago. But one thing about us is that we were bad liars, especially when it came to each other. I can hear their breathing, I thought, sighing and giving up. All awake.


    I sat upright and pushed my hair out of my face, then leaned my cheek against my palm. I shut my eyes and stayed still, trying to let my body relax. Trying not to give into the urge of getting out of bed. Training. That was a big word. Last time that happened to any capacity, Lucas was still the guy smacking me into the floor and telling me that I¡¯ve got to rely on my body and not just my powers. To not take up space. To be quick, agile, and use any angle I could get my hands on to win this fight. The more I thought about it, the worse his training sounded for me.


    Our people weren¡¯t taught to fight tight and bunched like a boxer, or taught how to grapple and minimize your movements like some jiu jitsu black belt¡ªour bodies are weapons, and they¡¯re sharpened through combat. War. Battle and bloodshed. You fight with anything you can get. You fight using space, your body, your powers and your skill. At the end of the day, honor goes right out of the window when someone is trying to kill you dead, or some creature wants to rip your spinal cord out so they can use it as a set of toothpicks. Lucas taught me to fight like a human, and to some extent, that was true, wasn¡¯t it? But I¡¯d been shedding that and ignoring that from even before we fell out. But sometimes¡­sometimes I still fought like a human, and in some ways, that wasn¡¯t bad.


    If I fought like Olympia said she was going to train us to do, then I was giving that side up.


    And look, humans aren¡¯t the strongest species in the universe¡ªon the contrary, they¡¯re pretty fragile physically to most of what the stars have in store, but you¡¯ve got to give it to them, because for whatever reason, the Empire has taken their sweet time getting here. Something had put a pause to their plan. To this galaxy devouring mechanical engine fuelled by bones and greased with blood that suddenly jerked to a halt when Earth came about.


    Not a single species in the Empire¡¯s history had ever made them hesitate. Not until recently.


    I was maybe getting a little fond of the humans, even if I was having a shitty time of it. Fighting like one meant being scrappy and smart and using what you¡¯ve got, even if that wasn¡¯t much to begin with after everything is said and done. But for a species which constantly kept trying to fuck itself over, they believed in themselves a lot more than you¡¯d think. Who the hell am I to bitch and moan? I looked at my hands, the scars and the nicks and the grit under my fingernails, then slowly clenched them. You hit the cosmic lottery and it¡¯s still not enough, Rylee.


    Best of both worlds, I figured, dropping back onto the cot, arms spread, eyes shut. But Gods, you know?


    Wishing it was easier wasn¡¯t the right way of putting it, because I had it a lot easier than most people. I mean, fuck, how many people have I seen get killed in the past few months? Just blood and guts and gore all over the place, and there I¡¯d been wondering how I¡¯d get my suit cleaned because I accidentally flew through someone.


    I folded my arms over my chest, finger tapping against my bicep.


    I realized why I suddenly felt itchy. It wasn¡¯t the heat or the blanket.


    It was the realization that I¡¯d been thinking like one of them. The same fucking people who would have put my teeth to the curb and split my skull on the cement. Is that why Older Me kept her eyes blue? She wanted to blend in. To fit in with the rest of them. See, guys, I¡¯m just like one of you! But at the end of the day, we¡¯re not, are we? We¡¯re more and we¡¯re less and I guess that kind of made us¡­nothing. Just things, I guess. People who lived.


    ¡°Maybe Em was right,¡± I whispered. ¡°I¡¯ve got an ego problem.¡±


    But rarely do you ever meet a superhero without one, you know? Like, I met dozens when I was a kid. So many of them in their flashy costumes and wild hairstyles, because that was just the culture. They were mega stars. Actors and actresses, and oh, right, freaking superheroes who saved the world. They were meant to look more than anything that had ever come before in the face of celebrities, and I guess that translated into their personalities, their shoulders and their chins and how much they puffed up their chests. I grew up on a breakfast of superhero cartoons and went to bed devouring comic books until my eyes hurt. I¡¯ll admit, at first it was just all so bizarre.


    You¡¯ve got this kid who comes practically from out of space, and then she finds out these people, these fragile little people who could die tripping down a set of stairs, could also sometimes lift buildings and save the entire world as a whole. I mean, then everyone on Arkath could be one, you know? And that¡¯s what started it, too.


    That seed of resentment got planted, because we could all be something so freaking awesome.


    And all we were back home was this scourge, this cancer, spreading through the entire universe.


    I mimicked the capes in the colored pages and the heroes on international news. I wanted to be brash and cocky and strong and powerful and loved. I wanted to catch a building and grin for the cameras, then see my face all over the magazines and the billboards. Have my chin high and knuckles on my waits because¡­yeah, I am a hero. A superhero. The real life thing, just like the ones of old, and not like the ones that slaughtered entire planets.


    Just ¡®cause you¡¯re powerful doesn¡¯t make you anything special. Sometimes you¡¯re just a piece of shit.


    I¡­didn¡¯t know what that made dad, ultimately. He was a shitty father, a butcher of billions. But hey, he once saved that cat from that one tree, remember? He helped old Mrs. Haywood cross the street when he was in a hurry to get home to his kid¡¯s birthday, but then he got side tracked and decided he should spend the day helping a bunch of blue collar guys dig up rotten building foundations, so what¡¯s it really matter that the same guy who kissed babies and carried make-a-wish children through the clouds was the same guy who also wiped out entire civilizations? Dad saved the world times over, until the final time, when he gave them all the greatest gift ever.


    His life. The life of one of the purest heroes that had ever walked on the face of the Earth.


    But that¡¯s not really true, was it? Dad never touched the ground when he walked.


    Only time he did was when he dropped dead.


    Maybe it was some kind of game to him, appealing to the humans, or maybe¡­ Ah, hell, I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever freaking know, and that¡¯s what pisses me off the most, because this fucking bastard looked at me with the kind of content you reserve for supervillains, and figured, hey, this kid of mine is pretty damn useless.


    And then he died, and that was that. No apology. No acknowledgement.


    He went out doing what he did best, which was lying to the world.


    And pretending he was a swell guy.


    ¡­I hate that it¡¯s always him.


    I hated that my thoughts, like some broken record, always circled back to him.


    I thought I¡¯d gotten over it, but judging by my heartbeat, by the prickle on my skin¡­ I haven¡¯t.


    I sighed and swung my legs out of bed, then cupped my face. ¡°Fuck you,¡± I whispered.


    ¡°Can¡¯t sleep either?¡± My tent flap slightly opened. Quarterback was standing in the gap, softly glowing under the moon¡¯s silvery light. ¡°I heard you tossing and turning for a while, and figured I might as well come over.¡±


    I waved my hand at the green canvas tarp acting as a floor. ¡°Best seats in the house.¡±


    He chose a wooden crate to sit on. He stared at me for a moment, his golden irises watching as I gave him a quizzical look in return. Riley shook his head, then said, ¡°I was wondering, what was that about field experience?¡±


    I rested on my hands, slightly leaning back on the bed. ¡°Been fighting my entire life, sometimes even against my own body.¡± I chuckled dryly, shaking my head. ¡°I¡¯ve been working for the better part of half a year.¡±


    ¡°Dude,¡± he said. ¡°What¡¯s your reality like if you¡¯ve been up for months and it¡¯s still not safe?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s weird is that I can¡¯t even tell you,¡± I muttered. ¡°I¡¯ve gotten so used to it that it¡¯s just kinda meh.¡±


    ¡°¡®Meh,¡¯ she said, because it¡¯s totally normal to not sleep for six months straight.¡±


    I laughed a little. ¡°You¡¯re telling me you sleep just fine every night?¡±


    ¡°Well, not every night, but most nights are fine,¡± he said. ¡°There¡¯s the occasional big fight, but nothing that¡¯s gonna keep me up for days on end. That¡¯s only happened once when I fought against this one guy called¡ª¡±


    ¡°Mind if we play a game and I take a guess?¡± I asked. He nodded, grinning. ¡°I think it¡¯s¡­ Witchling?¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s what you call him,¡± he said, nodding slowly. ¡°But no, it wasn¡¯t him. He¡¯s called Samson.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t say I¡¯ve ever heard of him, dude.¡±


    ¡°Not surprised,¡± he said. ¡°You seem like the kind of hero who fights massive monsters, you know? I had to go digging for him in Lower Olympus because he kidnapped a teammate of mine. I beat the brakes off the guy.¡±


    ¡°Teammate?¡± I asked him.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Riley said. ¡°Don¡¯t you also have them?¡±


    I shook my head in disbelief. ¡°Most superheroes back home treat me like the freaking plague. I¡¯m like bad karma for most of ¡®em, and¡­ Gods, now that I really think about it, I¡¯m mostly working alongside supervillains.¡±


    ¡°What!¡± he said, leaning forward. ¡°Are you an anti-hero back in your reality?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­trying,¡± I said, shrugging and honest.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°What are you two morons talking about?¡± We knew who that was before she even entered. She sat on my cot without asking and lit a cigarette using an old black lighter. She puffed, then said, ¡°What¡¯s so interesting?¡±


    ¡°Those things give you cancer,¡± Riley said. ¡°Superhero or not, it still kills you slowly.¡±


    ¡°Nobody said I was here for a long time, just a moderately tolerable one.¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯re you so miserable?¡± I asked her. ¡°You look the most frazzled out of all of us.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because I¡¯ve actually got a job and responsibilities and taxes to pay for.¡± We both stared at her, and all she did was smoke and stare until she finally caved in. ¡°Adam, you know him, right? He kinda saved the world.¡±


    And almost suddenly, I pretty much understood why she looked this way¡ªstained and sweaty shirt, loose tie, bags underneath her eyes dark enough to look like makeup, and an odor to her that was pungent and musty. I kind of felt like she wasn¡¯t telling the entire truth there, with how abruptly she stopped her sentence, but I wasn¡¯t planning on prodding. Hell, Adam has already saved the city, but the world? I wouldn¡¯t show my face for months.


    ¡°She¡¯s called Eve for me,¡± Riley muttered. ¡°I don¡¯t hate a lot of people, but man she sucks.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it!¡± Suits and I both said. I continued. ¡°Have you guys ever fought him?¡±


    ¡°Fought him?¡± Suits asked, snorting. ¡°I beat the life out of him so badly they brought mom in to put him back together, and oh, no, suddenly I¡¯m the one in the wrong! Like what the hell? Now he¡¯s this big shot superhero, and I¡¯m playing hide and seek with the public, because they¡¯re afraid of me now or whatever. Life blows, dude.¡±


    I laughed a little, then said, ¡°I ripped his arm off in front of mom, actually.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s gnarly,¡± Riley said. ¡°We¡¯ve only fought once, but she beat me because, you know¡­girl.¡±


    We both stared at him, and Suits said to me, ¡°You want to go first or should I do the honors?¡±


    He put his hands up in defence. ¡°Not like that! The whole school would have thought I was this giant asshat if I beat up the head of the cheer team. It¡¯s a little different for me, because we kinda grew up as siblings.¡±


    ¡°Now that¡¯s a trip,¡± I said. Suits nodded in agreement. ¡°So you guys see each other every single day?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°We used to, but¡­ things changed. A lot of things changed.¡± He grew quiet, rubbed his bicep, then cleared his throat. ¡°You know what sucks the most? The fact that I can¡¯t find a job literally anywhere.¡±


    ¡°I work at Dennie¡¯s old coffee shop,¡± I said. ¡°Puts at least a little money in my pockets.¡±


    When I¡¯m actually there, that is.


    ¡°I¡¯m telling you, get a real job, and you won¡¯t have to start pinching pennies,¡± Suits said. ¡°I know the government can be kinda difficult sometimes, but at the very end of the day, mom is always gonna be protected, and you¡¯re gonna get access to almost the entire world¡¯s data banks worth of information. It¡¯s almost a free for all.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, no,¡± Riley said, shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯m trying to find a normal job as I study.¡± He looked at me. ¡°But how the hell do you afford rent in New Olympus? Everything is so freaking expensive. Can¡¯t even buy coffee most days without sucking air through my teeth, and in my reality, Dennie kicked it at the start of this year, too.¡±


    I straightened a little. ¡°Really? What happened?¡±


    ¡°Stuff,¡± he said slowly, quietly, ¡°that¡¯d I¡¯d rather not talk about right now.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± I said, easing away from that topic, because even looking at Suits told me the same thing¡ªhe wasn¡¯t around in her reality either. I didn¡¯t know what that meant for my version of him. Whether that meant this year might be his last, or he was running out of four leaf clovers to keep him dodging out of the chaos that was my life. And then something crossed my mind, a thought that made my heart stutter: every single villain in that city, at least most of them, knew where I lived, ergo Dennie was always in their sights, too. But surely they wouldn¡¯t dare. Gods above, they better not fucking dare. ¡°Emelia pays for my rent most of the time. All I¡¯ve got to do is be a hero.¡±


    ¡°Good old ¡®milio,¡± Riley said, nodding. ¡°Shame about his back, though.¡±


    ¡°His back?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Suits said, looking at me through her haze of smoke. ¡°Haven¡¯t you fought Doc Folton yet?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know who the hell that is,¡± I said quietly.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Riley said.


    ¡°Ah,¡± Suits muttered.


    I leaned forward, making the bed creak. ¡°How bad is he, scale from one to ten?¡±


    Suits patted my back. ¡°Just know he made Wasteland look like a kid.¡±


    ¡°That bad?¡± I asked, exasperated.


    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m just fuckin¡¯ with you,¡± Suits said. ¡°But no, really, you¡¯re screwed. Good luck.¡±


    ¡°Thanks for the heads up, I guess,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°Don¡¯t look so down,¡± Riley said. ¡°You must¡¯ve fought someone we haven¡¯t yet, too.¡±


    I thought for a moment, then shrugged. ¡°Can¡¯t really see anyone that major recently to be honest with you. It¡¯s been a fight here and a fight there that leads me to one ass kicking to the next. I could probably count the amount of good things that have happened to me on one hand this year, but if the worst is yet to come, I won¡¯t count my chickens before they hatch. But on the bright side, I got a few more awesome new powers this year.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, like what?¡± Suits asked.


    I made a finger gun and pointed it at Riley, then shot a tiny bolt of golden light at his chest. Not enough firepower to smack him backward, but enough to topple him off the crate. I winced and said, ¡°Still learning it.¡±


    ¡°Holy shit,¡± he said, standing back up. His shirt was burnt and black, and I saw a glimmer of his golden lightning bolt on his chest, his costume still underneath all those clothes. ¡°How the hell did you learn to do that?¡±


    ¡°A few near death experiences, and boom, new powers.¡± I nudged Suits. ¡°Or just be a real superhero.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, whatever. You¡¯re just a glorified battery.¡±


    I went to flick her ear, and my hand went straight through her head. She smiled at me. ¡°For someone who works behind a desk all day long, I got a few of my own, too. Light refraction or something like that. Phase through stuff without really thinking about it. Really great for putting people in hard situations, but more covert stuff.¡±


    I¡¯ll admit this internally and only internally, but that was kinda awesome.


    ¡°What about you, All-Star?¡± I asked. ¡°Anything special?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°Nothing special yet. Just a guy, really.¡±


    Suddenly, the tent flap swung open, and there stood the Actress in all her glory. Hell, she was glowing a soft golden color that was seemingly oozing right out of her pores. In some ways, she was almost blinding to look at, like a bulb that wouldn¡¯t turn off. She waltzed in, hands on hips, smiling and showing off teeth that I¡¯d long since gotten smacked out of my jaw. ¡°I skipped the depressing parts and figured I should come and make this a lot more interesting.¡± She pushed her golden locs over her shoulder with a sweep of her hand, showing off tiny golden lightning bolt earrings that I totally wasn¡¯t jealous of. ¡°Let¡¯s make this fun. I¡¯ll go first. I¡¯ve got half a billion in¡ª¡±


    Suits flicked her cigarette. It bounced off her leather jacket, scuffing it with ash. ¡°Don¡¯t care, didn¡¯t ask.¡±


    Actress gasped and wiped away the cigarette¡¯s remnants. ¡°Rude.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯ve been wondering,¡± Riley said. ¡°You think this is the last time we¡¯ll all¡­you know.¡±


    ¡°See each other?¡± I asked him.


    He nodded, smiling awkwardly.


    ¡°It¡¯s like Olympia said,¡± Actress muttered, folding her arms. ¡°If we live, everything will be just peachy.¡±


    ¡°You are weirdly optimistic about everything,¡± Suits said to her.


    ¡°Yeah, considering the universe has us in its little book of death and suffering,¡± I added.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s because I¡¯m me,¡± she said, with another flourishing smile and softly glowing skin. ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s ever been a time when any of us figured we should give up, right? If we did, none of us would be here. It¡¯s, like, common sense or whatever, ¡®cause what kind of superhero goes off and dies when the world needs them?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s one way to put it,¡± Riley said, laughing under his breath.


    ¡°Exactly!¡± she said, clapping her hands together. ¡°You¡¯re all so boring and serious and grumpy. Just live a little, huh? Will it kill you to have a smile on your face sometimes? Sure, everyone in your realities that you loved and cared for are probably dead, and you, honey¡±¡ªshe looked at me¡ª¡°sound like a hotbed of daddy issues which, thank the Gods I don¡¯t have, because that¡¯s so two decades ago, but at the end of the day, we¡¯re all pretty super, and if that¡¯s not good enough, then we¡¯ve just got to be heroes, too.¡± She grinned, fists on her hips. ¡°So, you with me?¡±


    I tilted my head, then stood up. They all looked at me as I said, ¡°You stole half of that from a commercial.¡±


    She blinked. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Back in my reality, Grant¡ªPoseidon¡¯s kid?¡ªhas this big commercial every year, and that¡¯s what he says.¡±


    Actress went red in the cheeks. The rest of us laughed as she quickly said, ¡°I came up with that!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, right, your publicists or whatever probably did,¡± Suits said through laughter.


    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± Riley said, putting her hand on the Actress¡¯ shoulder. ¡°Personally? I liked the speech. It made me feel all hopeful and tingly inside, but she¡¯s right¡ªwe get through this shit, and things will get better.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, or we die trying,¡± I said quietly, sapping up whatever warmth was in the air. I shrugged. ¡°But like the million dollar bimbo just said, we kinda don¡¯t have a choice, do we?¡± I lowered my voice. ¡°If I¡¯m being honest, though, the only people we can trust are each other. The people right here, right now, and not even Olympia.¡±


    Riley slipped his hand off her shoulder and folded his arms. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m paranoid, but there¡¯s just something about her that¡ª¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t feel right,¡± Suits whispered, finishing my sentence. ¡°Too perfect?¡±


    ¡°Too put together,¡± I said. ¡°I mean, she¡¯s married. She¡¯s powerful. I just think it¡¯s kind of like a mask.¡±


    ¡°Or that¡¯s just her alter ego,¡± Riley said. ¡°The Olympia that the world finally wanted and eventually got.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about you guys, but I¡¯ve tried to do that,¡± I said quietly, my ears straining to listen to the winds and the sky above. The sun was rising. I could feel the shift in temperature rubbing against my skin, even if the sun probably wouldn¡¯t crest for another hour or so. ¡°And maybe I was pretty shit at decision making, but you¡¯ve got to make bad choices and even worse decisions if you want to become that. Who knows, maybe she did it all by being the greatest superhero ever, but I got myself into dark places trying to be that. Did things I¡¯m not proud of, and hell, maybe if I kept going, I could have ended up in a different place than I am right now, you know? She¡¯s¡ª¡±


    ¡°Or you¡¯re just jealous of her,¡± Actress said. I stared at her, one eyebrow raised. ¡°She¡¯s strong. She¡¯s happy. You¡¯re still trying to save Bianca, whilst she¡¯s got a ring around her finger. You just don¡¯t believe someone else can do it, but¡­c¡¯mon. That just means that deep down you barely believe in yourself enough to ever achieve anything worthwhile that¡¯ll make you happy or satisfied in life, which kinda sucks, since you¡¯ve got no hope or belief in yourself, and you¡¯re meant to spread that hope and belief to other people who¡¯ll be looking at you to save them.¡±


    We all stared at her, my chest constricting slightly. I tensed my jaw and chewed my tongue, listening to my heartbeat as we stared at one another. Then, a soft sonic boom erupted about a mile away, and then came her smell.


    Actress shrugged one shoulder. ¡°Or whatevs. Insecurities make you break out, so stop OD¡¯ing it, ¡®kay?¡±


    With that, she left the tent, walking back into the semi-frigid desert.


    ¡°I think I know why she doesn¡¯t have a problem with dad,¡± I said to them. ¡°She¡¯s even cockier than him.¡±


    Or maybe that¡¯s just confidence, and you know what? Maybe I¡¯m too far gone to know the difference.


    ¡°No,¡± Riley said quietly, looking over his shoulder at me. ¡°I think she¡¯s just proud to be Olympia.¡±

 Issue #66: Sky Blue Eyes

    The last time I had an older Arkathian train me, it didn¡¯t go so well. Most of them rarely ever had off buttons, and the ones that did treated you like a roach that just wouldn¡¯t die. A part of me, a very small part of me, was just a little scared. Sweaty. Nervous. But those were things I stuffed deep down inside of myself because, in case you all forgot, the people around me could tell those things in a heartbeat, and now wasn¡¯t the time for any of that stuff.


    If this was how I was going to get prepared for the inevitable worsening of my life, then I needed to start paying a lot more attention, and for once take orders and carry them out, which was¡­tough, to say the least. Lucas was my last older influence, and one that still made my throat dry every time I thought about him. Trusting Older Me would take time, and maybe I never fully will, but what the Actress had said still hung over my head like bad fruit. About me being jealous, maybe intimidated by the fact that she was everything I was ever hoping to become.


    Even now, as we all flew in a cluster behind her, I watched her, the furthest away from the point. She¡¯d said that a morning flight would get our blood pumping before we got down to actually doing the ¡®easier¡¯ things like hand-to-hand and all that rest of that jazz. According to her, we¡¯d spend less time doing that, and more time getting used to flying at higher speeds for longer amounts of time. Just faster than the speed of sound right now, and fuck me, I was getting pretty exhausted. The sun was coming down hard on my back, my neck, and was burning my shoulders raw and red. Sweat flicked off my face, blown away in seconds by the hot, harsh winds berating us.


    It kinda felt like sticking your head into an oven whilst you get sandblasted in the face, too.


    Arms out in front of you, chin up, mouth shut, and your eyes have a film of tissue over them that stops things from blinding you, so don¡¯t worry about having to squint in the wind. Get used to the sting. Let that piece of your eyes get stronger, and for the love of the Gods, just keep up. If you feel like you¡¯re gonna pass out, just do it.


    So¡­yeah, amazing advice. We were paired for that same reason. Quarterback and Actress. Glasses was with Olympia up front. Suits and I were on Olympia¡¯s left. She was a sweaty mess, tell you what, with her shirt snapping in the violent winds and her teeth gritted as she struggled to keep up. Actress was fading fast, and if it wasn¡¯t for Quarterback sometimes tugging her along, she would have smashed into the ground by now, or puked more times than she already has from pure exhaustion. The only one of us that didn¡¯t sound or look like she was having a hard time with any of this was Glasses, who kept pace with Olympia, not even breaking a sweat as we slowly got faster.


    ¡°Alright!¡± Olympia yelled, turning around mid-air, but still keeping pace. ¡°We¡¯ll kick it up a little!¡±


    ¡°Fuck,¡± came our collective groan.


    Olympia grinned, flipped over, then pulled ahead by inches, feet, then nearly a mile in the time it took any of us to even try to keep up. Another sonic boom split the sky ahead of us, and we all watched, Glasses included, as she spiralled ahead into the painfully bright blue sky. Hundreds of thousands of feet in the air, twisting around like a fighter jet in a dog fight. We watched her carve through the air like this was all second nature to her. I glanced at Suits, who was glancing at me. Actress hurled again, this time with only saliva coming out of her mouth. She fell back, which looked like she¡¯d just been flung backward by several miles. Quarterback was next. Glasses, unsure, also slowed. Suits and I kept going, and I guess this is where stupidity and ego smashed together, because she started it by bumping into me, throwing me slightly off course as she followed in the same arms-spread spiral that took Olympia far, far into the sky above, then darting toward the ground below in some twisted crazy death spiral.


    So, of course, I had to show Suits that I was better than her.


    I¡¯ll blame it on my empty stomach, though, because as soon as I reached the apex where we both spun around and shot toward the ground, the g-forces smacked the sense right out of my head and my stomach right out of my mouth. Suits, glancing over her shoulder, barked out a laugh. Then her eyes rolled into her head as she fell.


    I, too, laughed at her, before my brain spazzed and we spiralled through the air together. Loose limbs and wild hair. Two bodies that bumped and fell like stones in water until we came to a sudden and very, very fucking painful stop on this hard thing called the Earth. I didn¡¯t know how long we laid there in the craters we¡¯d made, gasping for air and getting burnt up by the scathing sunlight. Everything ached. Each and every single one of my cells felt like they were on fire. I shut my eyes and kept panting and wheezing, hoping for some kind of moisture to slide down my tongue any moment now. My ears kept ringing, though, and my heart kept thumping painfully against my chest. I almost thought I was gonna have some kind of heart attack, lying there in blistering agony.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Suits said weakly. Her voice was strained and scratchy, struggling to come out. ¡°You alive?¡±


    I swallowed and winced. ¡°You¡¯re the one who landed head first. Guess your skull is just thick.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    ¡°Blow me.¡±


    Silence. We stayed there staring at the empty, cloudless sky, panting hard. Olympia was somewhere far off in the distance, and the others had slowed down just a touch, but at those speeds, that was miles and miles away.


    Very slowly, I sat upright, even though my body was content with staying in my Rylee-shaped hole for the rest of the foreseeable future. I hung my head, and let the French braid my hair was in come loose and hang around my face. It was dry, almost stiff, and stank of sweat as the wind battered it aside. I sat there with my eyes shut, waiting for the pain in my joints to slip away. I rolled my shoulders, then massaged my neck. Weird. My skin felt like it was sunburnt. Didn¡¯t even know that was possible. But I guess I¡¯m tanned for a reason, being in the sky a lot.


    I heard a click beside me, and I watched Suits, from the corner of my eye, light a cigarette she¡¯d kept somewhere on her body. She huffed out a small plume, her body rested like she was trying to make a snow angel. Her sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, and her shirt was undone halfway to reveal the sports bra she had on under it. She had tattoos I hadn¡¯t noticed before on her forearms. Not many, but enough to tell me that she¡¯d probably been at least a little bit of a problem before she joined Uncle Sam in the never ending war against American evils.


    ¡°Mind telling me what you¡¯re lookin¡¯ at?¡± she asked me, sitting upright as well, offering the cigarette.


    I shook my head and muttered, ¡°I just stopped hearing her sonic booms. Four of them in a row.¡±


    Suits glanced into the sky, shading her eyes with her hand. ¡°You really think she¡¯s legit?¡±


    I shrugged, which hurt every muscle down my back. ¡°Dunno. But she¡¯s strong, that¡¯s a fact.¡±


    ¡°And so was dad, and so was his brother, and so is every other adult Arkathian,¡± she muttered, taking another drag, ¡°apart from us for some reason. Hey, you ever get the feeling that, in some other life, we were normal?¡±


    I glanced at her strangely. ¡°Meaning?¡±


    ¡°Like, I don¡¯t know¡­ Like all of this just wasn¡¯t meant for us.¡± She stared at the endless, hard-baked dessert in front of us. At the dunes that spiralled and the thousands of crashed satellites that sprinkled it. ¡°All we do ever since we get our powers is fight bad guys, and we barely scratch the surface of what we can do, and it¡¯s still not enough to save the world or Bianca or whatever.¡± Another drag. Another sigh of smoke. ¡°Adam comes along and¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªputs on dad¡¯s costume and gets a billboard and a news hour and the world freaking loves him.¡±


    We both chuckled, maybe bitterly, maybe jealousy. Maybe ¡®cause our stomachs grumble at the same time with hunger. Superhero or not, we still needed to eat. I¡¯d lied to myself and said my body was capable of giving me all the energy it needed from my powers, but jokes on me, because it turned out I just wasn¡¯t pushing myself to my maximum. I¡¯d been riding the wave of my powers, because supervillains used to have a hard time fighting me before I ever got a boost, but now it was just plain easy if I actually focused on trying to take them the fuck out.


    But this was different, because Olympia was another ball game entirely.


    ¡°I guess it doesn¡¯t matter,¡± I muttered. ¡°We¡¯re the ones with the powers.¡±


    ¡°And all those amazing responsibilities,¡± Suits said quietly.


    Then we both stilled. Her cigarette didn¡¯t touch her lips. I stopped moving almost immediately. It was a feeling. A sensation against our skin, an irritation and an annoyance and something that said, we¡¯re not alone.


    But¡­we were. I scanned my right and Suits searched her left. Nothing for miles. Not in the air or land.


    Underneath.


    My hands were on the hard soil where I¡¯d been sitting, resting on my palms. There were tiny vibrations. A weird hollowness, followed by echoes and sounds and maybe I was hearing voices, too, but just couldn¡¯t find them. They sounded muffled and distant, but no, I wasn¡¯t hearing them. I was feeling them through the palms of my hands, and so was Suits. She glanced at me, an eyebrow raised as we both nodded, figuring that we weren¡¯t both going crazy out here in this terrible heat. Something was underneath us, and that something sounded like voices and boots and¡­hell, every single inch of my body was feeling them. But this wasn¡¯t the first time this happened, was it? When I¡¯d gotten that suit with the cape, that guy had said my skin was sensitive enough to hear through it.


    I hadn¡¯t paid it much attention at first, considering where I¡¯d been at the time, and mom kinda threw me under the bus so Adam could play a big shot superhero in front of her. But it came back to me like a dash of water.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°Holy shit,¡± Suits muttered, slowly getting into a crouch. ¡°Do you think¡ª¡±


    ¡°Humans,¡± I said quietly, almost smiling. ¡°It sounds like them, right?¡±


    Gotta give it to ¡®em. Even when there¡¯s no chance, there¡¯s still one more shot.


    ¡°Fuck, man,¡± she said. ¡°I thought they¡¯d been wiped out or enslaved.¡±


    ¡°I fought a version of me that¡¯s with the Conquest,¡± I said. ¡°She was talking about Clones, and how she told them that the humans weren¡¯t really finished in this war. Maybe that¡¯s why she was out here in the first place.¡±


    ¡°She knew deep down that they were still out here somewhere,¡± Suits muttered. ¡°But she didn¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°What does that even mean?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Think about it for a sec,¡± she said, getting closer. ¡°Legionnaires always work in twos, but she¡¯s still not accepted into the fold, is she? She was all by herself when she attacked the rest of us, almost like she was out here searching for something when she also felt something strange in the air. She literally felt our universes fragment.¡±


    ¡°And this whole time, she was just feeling her way through the air, hunting for humans,¡± I whispered.


    ¡°But I guess that also means something else,¡± Suits muttered. ¡°True-blooded Arkathians can¡¯t do it. Some kind of weird mutation, maybe.¡±


    ¡°So she got sent out to do the donkey work,¡± I said, biting my thumbnail. Still a freaking outcast.


    ¡°You two,¡± a voice said. We startled, looking up into the sky, shading our eyes as Olympia came into view. The sun behind her head made it nearly impossible to make her out, or even focus on her. ¡°Why did you stop?¡±


    ¡°We got pretty exhausted,¡± I said, getting up, cringing with the effort. ¡°Then something weird¡ª¡±


    ¡°She puked on herself, and I figured she shouldn¡¯t be alone as she vomited up her guts,¡± Suits said, folding her arms over her chest. I looked at her quizzically. ¡°You said we should watch out for our teammates, so I did that.¡±


    Slowly, Olympia lowered until she was just inches off the painfully hot soil. Arms still folded, jaw still tightly clenched. Her eyes watched us, hardly blinking or even squinting in the heat sitting on the surface of the Earth. ¡°Hm,¡± she hummed quietly. ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s a good thing that you two were put together. I figured that one of you would at least try to do what I did and end up not quite getting there. Remember, this is a test of endurance, not just raw speed. We¡¯re building up to get to that raw speed.¡± She lowered her voice and smiled, showing off a sharp row of pearly whites. ¡°Between me and you guys, you¡¯re probably the ones I¡¯ve got the most hope for.¡± She looked at both of us, the smile waning, not quite reaching her eyes yet. ¡°Just don¡¯t waste this chance because you think gossiping will make you any stronger. Remember, it¡¯s Bianca and the world we¡¯re training to save, okay?¡±


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Suits said, maybe a touch sarcastically. ¡°In the major leagues now.¡±


    Olympia smiled and patted her shoulder. ¡°Great stuff. Now, the others have caught up with me. We¡¯re thirty miles South-East. Since you two have already caught your breaths, you¡¯ll be the first two to face me down, cool?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said slowly. ¡°Dandy.¡±


    ¡°Great.¡± She stayed for a moment, staring at us, the toes of her boots just about grazing the ground. The sensations of sound coming from underneath us still pricked my skin enough to make me slowly scratch my bicep. Olympia nodded, then blasted into the sky, filling our mouths and lungs with plumes of thick, choking brown dust.


    I turned to Suits. ¡°Why¡¯d you cut me off like that?¡±


    ¡°I signed a contract,¡± she said very, very quietly, facing me. ¡°Not just with the government or the president or even the Olympiad and the Pentagon, but for the people of Earth itself. I¡¯ve got a mission, superhero, and that¡¯s to protect any remnants of life that¡¯ll ever cling to it, and if you think for a moment I¡¯ll ever trust her, you¡¯re insane.¡±


    ¡°You really think she¡¯d hurt the humans?¡± I asked her. ¡°I mean, that¡¯s just not our M.O., is it?¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s always been our M.O., Rylee. We just pick and choose which ones we should hurt.¡± She pointed to the ground, where her cigarette butt lay. ¡°Those ones down there are frightened, scampering around in what I¡¯m thinking are tunnels they¡¯ve built like roaches in the walls of someone¡¯s house. They¡¯re running from our kind.¡±


    ¡°And who wouldn¡¯t?¡± I asked. ¡°But they¡¯re still fighting. Still trying to reclaim their home, right?¡±


    I might not trust Olympia, but¡­ she wouldn¡¯t hurt them. Why would she hurt them?


    ¡°Look,¡± Suits said, running a hand through her hair. ¡°Something¡¯s just nor right. Maybe I¡¯ve been doing espionage for too long to trust anything anymore, but I know what my gut is telling me, and I also know when something isn¡¯t the truth, and the chick in red, white, and blue, is not the truth. Just look into her eyes, Rylee.¡±


    ¡°Her eyes?¡± I asked. I was straining to listen to the wind and the sky, but she was fast. Ridiculously fast, because she¡¯d been right there in the sky without so much as a warning. ¡°The only thing about them is that¡ª¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re blue,¡± she whispered. ¡°And she¡¯s a stronger superhero than a fully grown Legionnaire? Call me crazy, call me whatever name you want to come up with, but that¡¯s impossible, and you know that wholeheartedly.¡±


    I stared at her, the wind howling around us. There¡¯s only one other person with blue eyes that I know.


    Someone who¡¯d made me, even with my powers as they were, even with my golden eyes, bleed.


    But, the thing with him was that, well¡­


    ¡°You think she¡¯s a clone?¡± I asked.


    ¡°If she is,¡± Suits said quietly, hovering, ¡°I¡¯ve got a rough idea of what her reality looks like. When I joined the Red Cape Division¡ªsomething you¡¯re probably not even cleared to know about¡ªwhen I hung up my costume, I learnt the government has a contingency for Olympia¡¯s death. Usually it¡¯s a strike force. Most times, it¡¯s just us.¡±


    ¡°Just us?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°Better, stronger clones. Adam was just the test run. The next is the real deal.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s so bad about that?¡± I asked her, joining her in the air. Even if we really are dead.


    ¡°What¡¯s so bad about it, Rylee, is that you can make a clone whatever you want, however you want, and make them think exactly how you want. You wouldn¡¯t trust Adam with your first name as much as you wouldn¡¯t trust him to help you tie your shoe laces. They¡¯re created to be weapons that¡¯ll snap to attention and listen to every single order given to them by whoever¡¯s at the top, and between you and me, anyone who has power like is on call at any given time, is someone who¡¯s gonna want to clean up the Earth and make it clean. Better yet, purify it all.¡± She flew a little closer. ¡°And before you argue with me, think about it. All we¡¯ve ever wanted is some peace and quiet, right? Some time to put our feet up and enjoy the silence of it all. The only way someone like us gets that kind of chance is when evil stops being evil and there¡¯s not a single criminal around who¡¯s ballsy enough to try.¡±


    She¡­had a point. I barely had enough time to ever sit and talk and just hang out with my friends, let alone try and get Bianca to understand why I¡¯d been so shitty to her lately. And yet, somehow, Older Me had gone and married her. Unless things got a lot better in her reality than it ever does with mine, I couldn¡¯t even see that ever going down. Not because I didn¡¯t want that (because maybe, just maybe, a part of me does), but because everything in my life was such a shitstorm of chaos and poor decisions and freaking negligence from everyone including my own mother kinda left me in a position of stomping out fires every single day of my life for several months on end.


    It was that skepticism again. That wayward touch of jealousy I had for Older Me. I just couldn¡¯t wrap my head around the fact that I could ever get my shit together long enough to be this amazing, glorious superhero that the world loves and that also gets to marry her best friend and stop the continual rot of New Olympus. At first, this was all about getting myself a statue. Getting recognized. But at some point, that kinda all got lost in the rubble and the bloodshed, the lies and the betrayal and the days I¡¯d spent licking my wounds and the other days I¡¯d spent chasing ghosts, hoping that I¡¯d finally save someone. And, hell, the reason it all felt pretty hopeless was simple.


    The reason why a vision of being an adult for myself only ever included days when my bones would ache getting out of bed in the morning, and my head would always pound if I didn¡¯t take painkillers from the years of fighting and listening to decades worth of death and destruction around New Olympus, day-in and day-out for years on end. Constantly. A future where I was still scrambling for that gilded golden statue on Olympus Hill, whilst I checked Bianca¡¯s socials and the family she was building with some girl I¡¯d never even heard of before. How Dennie would one day die, leaving that old coffee shop a shell of memories I¡¯d confine myself in until it all fell apart, and I probably wouldn¡¯t look a day over twenty-one by the time everyone I knew was long dead and gone.


    It was all a very, very simple reason.


    The Olympia in Older Me¡¯s reality didn¡¯t crack that code. Her clone did. I wondered if her Earth knew that she wasn¡¯t the original. That she¡¯d died and gotten replaced, and that was just how things went because she was better than ever before. Fuck her old mistakes. Forget how many civilians she¡¯d gotten killed in all that crossfire.


    She¡¯s blonde, she¡¯s hot, she¡¯s got daddy¡¯s smile, and she¡¯s the most powerful being on the planet.


    The humans had done it. They¡¯d finally gotten what they¡¯d wanted, didn¡¯t they?


    They¡¯d gotten themselves Olympia, the superhero.


    Not Rylee. She didn¡¯t go by that name anymore.


    Remember?


    ¡°We¡¯ll keep an eye on her,¡± Suits said. ¡°We better get going before she starts suspecting something.¡±


    She left in a gust of wind and dust, nowhere near as violently as Olympia. I stayed there for a moment under the painfully hot sun. I slowly crouched and pressed my fingers to the dirt and shut my eyes. I wasn¡¯t making anything up. Those really were voices down there. People, maybe just a few hundred, all working and running around, and then the occasional burst of laughter would interrupt the mundane rumble of technical jargon. I opened my eyes and stayed there, arms resting on my knees, still squatted above the ground, sweaty and very, very tired.


    I¡¯d humored Suits a little, just to hear what was so wrong with clones. A contingency for my death made sense, didn¡¯t it? Gods, I should¡¯ve known better. The humans would get the version of me they deserved. The one that grinned. The one that looked human but really wasn¡¯t. Just like her old man, they probably now said to her.


    But the clone wouldn¡¯t care one bit about that, would she? She¡¯s got memories that aren¡¯t really hers. Scars that don¡¯t belong on her skin because she didn¡¯t earn any of them. That ring on her necklace wasn¡¯t hers. It was stolen, but that was only because the original version of me in her reality had kicked the bucket trying to be a hero.


    Or maybe I was wrong about her, and she was the original, and just had her shit together.


    I sighed and stood, my hair buffeting over my shoulder. I wouldn¡¯t know either way.


    All I could do now was focus on getting strong enough to save Bianca.


    And the world, too, of course.

 Issue #67: For the Future 0

    ¡°Nice of you two to finally decide to join us,¡± Olympia said, arms folded as we landed in the clearing we¡¯d found them in. Pillars of stone, old skyscrapers missing their windows with nothing except old rebar and bent piping and loose wires, trucks, cars, the lot of it littering the large, dusty space. It was a warzone, almost a garbage dump of carnage and rot from years of the Conquest being fought and nearly lost in this reality. The group was all sat on piles of cinder blocks and cars, sweating and wet, exhausted to the point that none of them could look upward.


    The sun hung in the sky above us, like some god wanting to check out how Earth had been doing lately, doing nobody at all any favors. My skin prickled just being here, using my powers. I itched all over, with my shoulders beginning to peel after I¡¯d made a vest out of my t-shirt. Actress, the poor girl, was having the hardest time of it. She¡¯d finished everything she could puke and was now busy spitting saliva and smearing her lipstick on the back of her hand, wiping it away. Her hair was a mess. The products in it crackling and hardening her thick hair.


    At least Quarterback was there rubbing her back, giving her the most encouragement.


    And for someone who supposedly fought monsters in her reality almost every day, she was ridiculously unfit. She reminded me of myself when I was starting out, exhausted on a whim and nearly passing out in minutes.


    Maybe all those villains she fights are paid actors, too, I thought.


    ¡°Got lost,¡± I said, shrugging as I landed softly on the dirt. ¡°Plus it¡¯s damn hot today, too. Slowed us.¡±


    ¡°It tends to get this hot when you buckle to the demands of the Arkathian Empire,¡± she said, coolly. ¡°Which I¡¯m trying to make sure doesn¡¯t happen, because that¡¯s the easy way out, and none of us does ¡®easy.¡¯¡±


    Quarterback spat saliva onto the dirt, then knuckled his chin. He¡¯d removed his costume today, and was down to his jeans, with his white band t-shirt around his neck instead. ¡°I feel like my body is gonna catch fire.¡±


    ¡°I feel like I¡¯m gonna die,¡± Actress moaned quietly, head hanging and her leather jacket around her waist. ¡°Does anybody have some ice water they¡¯d want to give me? I swear, the one time I need that intern to do her job.¡±


    Glasses remained silent, standing with her hands clasped in front of her. No sweat. No panting. Just a slight redness in her cheeks, as if she was embarrassed that the rest of us were sounding like dying dogs in summer heat.


    ¡°That,¡± Olympia said, ¡°is exactly what I wanted you to feel. That stinging sensation on your skin is your body trying to generate more, in very, very simple terms, bio-electricity, or the golden stuff we emit. The more that happens, the more powerful we become. Right now, your senses are more acute than they¡¯ve probably ever been for some of you.¡± She looked at me. ¡°For others, your body is just about getting used to this kind of abuse, because it¡¯s not the first time it¡¯s been pushed that hard. But it¡¯s not about the impact of the workout, but the duration of it. We build strength through endurance, not the one-hit fights we usually get ourselves into. Scraps with supervillains for our bodies are like a light jog for a human. Good, sure, but if you want to get better, you need to start sprinting.¡±


    ¡°So,¡± Suits said, shooing Actress so she could sit on the same stack of bricks. ¡°We¡¯re stronger now?¡±


    ¡°For the next few minutes, yes. That¡¯s why if you¡¯ve ever been in a tight spot, it quite literally feels like you¡¯re able to do more than you previously could in any situation. You won¡¯t notice it at the time, because you¡¯re pretty busy trying not to die, but the feats you perform are more than what you¡¯re normally capable of doing. You¡¯ll be faster, stronger, your brains will process things to an infinitely more finite degree than it usually can. The pay off is usually that, since we¡¯re not full blooded Arkathians, we¡¯re gonna shut down eventually. We need the rest to let our bodies stop from advancing. We go at it for too long, and our body starts to break down, fighting against our more human cells, and the genes that mom passed down to us. So yes, eat that pizza and watch that tv show at least once in a blue moon. You¡¯ll be better off for it. If you just keep pushing yourself, you¡¯ll one day just keel over.¡±


    ¡°Question,¡± Quarterback said, wiping sweat off his face. ¡°So we¡¯re all gonna chill out now, right?¡±


    ¡°Wrong,¡± she said, grinning. ¡°Here comes the hand-to-hand scenarios that build muscle memory.¡±


    We all groaned.


    ¡°Quit your whining and focus on why you¡¯re doing this in the first place.¡± She gestured around us at the nearly two kilometer wide expanse of destruction. ¡°This is going to be your playground for the next two days.¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    ¡°Two days, as in, with breaks in between, right?¡± I asked her. The others nodded for an answer.


    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Two days, as in, that¡¯s your time limit. No breaks. No rest. Only if you win.¡±


    ¡°I should¡¯ve just stayed at home instead of gone to that freaking party,¡± Actress muttered. ¡°This sucks.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Suits said. ¡°Win?¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± Olympia said. ¡°Here are the rules. Somewhere behind me, I¡¯ve hidden a strip of red cloth. It could be anywhere, so look very carefully, and work as a team.¡± Well, that sounds easy enough. ¡°But in the meantime, I¡¯ll be trying to stop you from finding it. The rules of engagement are nothing. No rules. Broken limbs will just have to heal in record time. Just no killing, that¡¯s off limits. But when you do find the piece of cloth, and here¡¯s my favorite part, you¡¯re gonna have to take it to the other end of this crater, where you¡¯ll have to find a blue strip of cloth. Once you do that, you win. But if you don¡¯t do that in the span of two days, we¡¯ll take an hour¡¯s rest, and then try again.¡±


    She¡¯s freaking insane if she thinks I¡¯m doing that!


    ¡°Sounds easy enough,¡± Suits muttered.


    I folded my arms. ¡°Just don¡¯t slow the rest of us down.¡±


    ¡°We all clear on the rules?¡± Olympia asked.


    Glasses raised her hand timidly. Olympia waved at her to continue. ¡°How, um, how do we defeat you?¡±


    ¡°Easy,¡± she said, hands on hips and shrugging. ¡°You either knock me out, tire me out, or make me yield.¡±


    ¡°I feel like this is a little unfair,¡± Quarterback muttered.


    ¡°Yeah, it is,¡± Olympia said. ¡°One girl against all of you? It should be a cakewalk for you guys. Go team!¡±


    We all stared at her, most of us with chins resting on palms, the rest of us with folded arms.


    Actress put her hand up lazily. ¡°Uh, question? I thought we¡¯d be, like, fighting. This isn¡¯t that.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s training,¡± she explained. ¡°This¡¯ll be important for you guys in the next few months in your realities. But that¡¯s if you don¡¯t get pulled away by Thirteen any second now. We don¡¯t have time to waste, not when we¡¯re at his mercy. I¡¯ve got to train you in a time span I don¡¯t even know about, so the next two days have an asterisk to them. Try to get the flag. Hell, just focus on doing everything about getting the red flag and putting me down, even if it means you¡¯ve got to be selfish and get some of you hurt just to make sure you get one piece of cloth to the next. I¡¯m not gonna go easy on you, because the day you¡¯re facing someone like me, it won¡¯t be flags you¡¯re trying to capture, and they won¡¯t be holding back. I won¡¯t kill you, but the person you¡¯ll go up against will definitely try.¡± Her smile waned, then entirely vanished. ¡°For some of you, he¡¯s gonna succeed, and you¡¯ll be as good as dead.¡±


    That made us all straighten up a little more. Mouths dry and back wet with sweat, but paying attention.


    ¡°Good luck,¡± she said, smiling softly. ¡°This might be the last time any of you see each other. Remember, this is all to protect Bianca, Ben, and the world. Defeat me here, and trust me, you¡¯ll live to see your next b¡¯day.¡±


    ¡°What happens if we don¡¯t defeat you?¡± Quarterback asked quietly.


    She shrugged one shoulder. ¡°It¡¯ll hurt. A lot.¡±


    ¡°Mind telling us who exactly is gonna be gunning to kill us in a scenario like this?¡± Suits asked.


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe me if I told you,¡± Olympia said. ¡°Besides, telling you wouldn¡¯t matter, because as I see it right now, you¡¯re not ready, but you have to be at the end of these two days. If you vanish before that, make the most of this time that you have amongst people just like you. Fight hard. Don¡¯t hold back. Believe in yourself.¡±


    Her words hung in the air as she smiled at each of us. Suits and I glanced at one another, at those bright blue eyes that burrowed into each one of our chests, as if she could see which one of us had the heart to do what was coming next. My mouth was dry. My heart had found its normal resting rhythm already. She¡¯s being dead serious.


    Suits looked at me and tapped her nose, probably thinking what I was thinking.


    This was gonna be nearly impossible. She was built, gene by gene, to be better than all of us.


    But the others are gonna find that out by themse¡ª


    It happens so quickly that it almost looks slow. She¡¯s in front of Riley in a split second, her fist smashing into his mouth before he even gets the chance to say anything more. It warps, breaks, shoots several teeth right out of his maw and sends them ricocheting off metal and stone. Then he¡¯s gone, spiralling through the sky like a bullet screaming into the wind. Suit stands. I stop leaning against an old car. Olympia flexes her fist, eyes arctic blue as she looks at the four of us. Her shadow is long against the dirt, a deep, jagged scar that moves as she makes a fist and stares us down. She rolled her shoulders and tensed her jaw, eyes moving over each of us until she focused on me and me alone. ¡°Well,¡± she said, turning to face us. ¡°Let¡¯s see which one of you is cut out to save the world.¡±

 Issue #68: For the Future 1

    What¡¯s funny about being inches away from unimaginable agony are the brief memories that smack you across the face, like a splash of cold water shattering the world for a moment and pausing everything. Maybe my brain has just gotten pretty used to processing being in pain, so much so that it¡¯s gotten the handle of slowing things down so I had the time to understand what I¡¯d done to fuck up so badly. Or maybe it was just this moment, right here and now, that had time crawling in split second heartbeats. And you know what fraction of a second memory came to mind?


    The Christmas just before dad kicked the bucket, when mom bought me my first costume. She never liked the idea of me being a superhero, and I always figured that my powers showing up late gave her some kind of hope that I wasn¡¯t gonna end up like my old man, and for some reason, she buckled and bought the same exact one I had been staring at in the mall a few weeks earlier. It¡¯s kinda where I got the inspiration for the rest of my costumes now. Its red and white, the fingerless sleeves and the thick boots. No cape, just squared shoulders and flying made easier.


    Dad hadn¡¯t liked seeing me in the costume as much as either of us had, and I can¡¯t remember seeing that thing anywhere after he told me to go to bed early and take it off. I think the only reason the memory came to mind now was because of her, Olympia, and the golden accents on her suit, the white and the thinner strips of red and blue, like someone had smashed my costume together with dads and called it a day, which made something very obvious in the split second she was in front of me, and the even smaller split second that her fist met my temple.


    Olympia, this version of me, wasn¡¯t the real me. She wasn¡¯t calling the shots.


    Because if there was one thing I¡¯d never do, it was look like Zeus.


    But I guess when you¡¯ve been hit as hard as I had, good old memories come flying back just as hard as when dad used to send me skipping, tripping, and shooting through the air with hay makers like Older Me landed.


    By the time I stop grinding my body against the dirt, I¡¯m in a crater I¡¯ve made, staring at the pale blue sky, wondering if this superhero stuff was ever meant for me in the first place, like Suits was saying. Fuck me, I feel like I just got hit by a bus. At least, that¡¯s what a human would probably feel like right now. So out of your mind that your own body feels like it''s held together by string and bits of thread. Move your arm and your leg jerks first. Try to roll over and suddenly all you can do is tense and curl into a ball of pulsating agony. My body feels like it¡¯s on fire, not just my head, where she cracked me with a right hook hard enough to leave a few of my teeth tumbling out of my mouth when I spit a goblet of blood onto the hot sand. Slowly, very slowly, I roll onto my chest and face the dirt.


    Then shut my eyes and lie there, gasping like some fish on land, because you know what?


    Fuck her.


    Every single time I go asking people for help, they either punch me in the face or fuck me over, and I¡¯m done with that. Hell, I quit. All I wanted to do was save Bianca. All I ever want to do is help New Olympus dig itself out of the massive fiery hole that it¡¯s managed to bury itself inside ever since dad decided to kick the bucket one day. I¡¯m doing these people a favor, but there¡¯s always an angle to their nonsense. I¡¯m gonna keep it real for a second and tell you what I¡¯ve really been thinking about this whole Fracture nonsense: it sucks, but I probably think there¡¯s more to it than I know, and I¡¯ll only find out once it either tries to kill me, back stab me, or murder me, which I understand is the same thing as the first option, but sometimes killing someone is by accident, like that time the girl with the Mercedes cut Alice in half. Murder, though, is what I used to go and do to clean the streets.


    One of them is targeted, and the other one is sometimes targeted, but not really.


    Or maybe I¡¯ve got a concussion and I¡¯m not thinking straight.


    Point being: fuck this, and I¡¯m going home.


    I spit out one more loose tooth and swallow some more blood, and then shove the Earth off my face. I shake my head and get to one knee, finding nothing around me for miles except howling wind and sand that pelts against my skin like a sandblaster. It stings against my cuts and rashes, scraping against raw, bloody flesh like sandpaper. I swear and hover, because my foot aches like hell when I put pressure on it, then search around myself.


    I¡¯ve got an option now to either look for this reality¡¯s Thirteen to get out of here, or just wait it out.


    Bianca is kind of in trouble right now, though, so I chose option number two.


    I take a deep breath and slowly breathe out, shutting my eyes in the process. I try to let myself relax, dropping my shoulders and rolling them to ease the tension in my neck. Slowly, my skin begins to prickle, then feel strange. It takes about a minute before I can hear garbled voices, but the wind is making it even harder to focus on anything underneath me. Don¡¯t know how far deep the surviving humans are. Could be digging for days, and I also didn¡¯t want to make a tunnel directly for the Empire to follow right to the remaining humans Earth is harboring.


    Searching for entrances was also gonna be a pain to do. Nearly impossible in a sandstorm like this, and on a planet so screwed up, too. Kind of like looking for a needle in a haystack, or for Bianca in a city that I supposedly knew like the back of my hand, multiplied by however many million miles of barren land covers Earth now. So, like I said, almost completely impossible.


    Then I hear screaming, torn up by the wind. I look up, then hover a foot backward.


    Actress slammed into the ground in front of me, throwing dirt into the air. I waited for it to settle before checking if she was alive. She had a giant purple welt on the side of her jaw. Blood mouth and split lower lip. Her eyes were fuzzy and her words were garbled as they spilled out of her mouth. She moaned and let out a soft cry as she turned onto her side, staying there to cradle her face. Couldn¡¯t blame her. Olympia was shooting for the stands.


    If this happened to me a few months ago, she would have probably put her fist through my face.


    ¡°What the hell is her problem?¡± she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut. ¡°She could have killed me!¡±


    ¡°Took it like a champ, superstar,¡± I muttered, offering her a hand. She looked up at me, then reached out so I could help her up. Almost immediately, she collapsed onto her knees, legs completely out from underneath her.


    ¡°I wanna go home,¡± she whispered, cradling her face and the growing bruise. She could barely speak, not with lips starting to swell that large. Has she never gotten hit before? ¡°This sucks. They¡¯re supposed to yell ¡®cut.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Cut?¡± I asked her. ¡°What the hell do you mean ¡®cut?¡¯¡±


    She looked at me weirdly, as if she¡¯d just noticed I was standing there. ¡°Yeah,¡± she said, as she found her broken sunglasses and picked them off the ground. ¡°They¡¯re not meant to actually hit you. It¡¯s all pre-recorded.¡±


    I stared at her for a long time, then it clicked. Oh, hell. Oh, hell! ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re a fake.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing fake about what I do!¡± she snapped, then calmed when her jaw clicked. She winced and dusted her sunglasses before putting them on her forehead again. ¡°Being a superhero means inspiring people, and you don¡¯t inspire anyone if you go around bleeding all over the place looking like shit. Villains lose. I win. Easy.¡±


    I laughed, hard, because this was just news to me, tell you what. ¡°Easy? Nothing about us is easy.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    ¡°Winning is easy,¡± she said, glaring at me. ¡°But with a face like yours, you should try it some time instead of getting punched around all the freaking time. Gods, I knew I should¡¯ve gone to bed early. That damn intern¡­¡±


    ¡°Well, poser,¡± I said, earning myself a hatred-filled glare. ¡°I¡¯m gonna head out, so if you still wanna play a game of deadly capture the flag, then be my guest, but I¡¯m out of here. Come with me if you like, your call.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re leaving?¡± she asked, standing up, wobbling as she did. ¡°But Olympia said¡ª¡±


    ¡°Fuck what she said! You might not get it now, because your life¡¯s been tailor made to be the perfect golden standard of being a superhero or whatever, but this kind of shit never ends. I¡¯m gonna make sure I get out of here whether she likes it or not. I don¡¯t even know how long it¡¯s been back in my reality! But she¡¯ll probably just say that training here is more important, which is bullshit, by the way, because if someone actually wanted to help me out for once, they wouldn¡¯t try to flatline me!¡± I didn¡¯t realize I was panting until I started tasting dirt on my tongue. I spat and used the back of my hand to wipe my mouth, then pointed at her. ¡°I¡¯m going, and if you tell her that I left, I will find you, and I will hurt you, because between me and you, I¡¯m probably the better fighter, okay?¡±


    Actress put her hands up defensively. ¡°Never said anything about being a snitch, loser. But if you¡¯re gonna coward  your way out of this, remember that she also said that we need this training to save our worlds and stuff.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°We¡¯re Olympia. You think the universe will ever give us a shot of doing that? We can¡¯t even get the girl we like to go on a date with us before she gets kidnapped by some assassin guild. We¡¯re not lucky enough for the world to end and for us to be the ones to save it. Word of advice: focus on the smaller things that matter.¡±


    ¡°But¡­doesn¡¯t everything matter, small and big?¡±


    ¡°Sure, I guess. But I don¡¯t really care anymore.¡±


    ¡°And here I thought I got through to you.¡±


    Fuck me.


    Olympia hovered several feet away from us, arms by her sides and knuckles bruised. One of her arms was splattered with blood that got violently sprayed across her suit by the winds. She looked at the two of us, pale blue eyes flicking from one face to the other, then she smiled thinly. ¡°Looks like you two are the lucky ones, right?¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t hit me!¡± Actress quickly said.


    ¡°I¡¯ve decided I don¡¯t want anything to do with this anymore,¡± I said, hovering a little closer to her, and doing Actress a favor and getting in front of her, saving at least some of her credibility. ¡°I¡¯m leaving soon, and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± she said, shrugging one shoulder. I paused and raised an eyebrow. ¡°By all means, tap out.¡±


    ¡°¡­that¡¯s it?¡±


    ¡°You want me to roll out a red carpet and tell you that the exit is stage left, too?¡± she asked, tilting her head. ¡°Or should I put your head in the dirt to knock you out flat so you can dream of walking away so easily?¡±


    I put my hands on my hips. ¡°Ah, alright. I see what you¡¯re doing. Fight you to get what I want, which is a way out of this place, since you probably figured one of us wouldn¡¯t want to play ball. Smart. Shame I don¡¯t care.¡±


    Olympia¡¯s smile faded. She stared at me, empty-eyed and distant, like she was seeing miles and miles through my chest and even beyond that toward the horizon across the sea of dead cities and rotting skyscrapers. She drew her mouth into a thin line and waited, patiently, for the wind to die and our hair to stop whipping around us.


    ¡°Rylee,¡± she said slowly. ¡°Your world is in danger of being brought to its knees. Bailing on this¡ª¡±


    ¡°Will end it, yeah, you said it the first time,¡± I muttered. I folded my arms, even though it hurt like all hell to rub my arms together with how tender their skin was. ¡°But if there¡¯s anything I¡¯ve learnt at all in the past year of my life ever since I graduated, is that being a superhero is totally different from what it used to mean for dad way back in his day. People like him got up early in the morning, stopped a bank robbery, and fucked off for the rest of the day to their normal jobs. I don¡¯t get that luxury, and that¡¯s only because they¡¯re also the same generation that made damn sure to shake every single dirty paw in that city just to make sure everything looked spectacular on the outside, and stupid six-year-old me for thinking that dear old dad had all the answers, because all he was doing was making my life that little bit harder in the future. Just train harder Rylee. Just fly faster. Just hit harder.¡± I scoffed and waved my hand through the air. ¡°The real me wouldn¡¯t turn out like him, because one thing I¡¯d never do is beat myself into the ground trying to train to be better, because I can do that on my own without killing myself in the goddamned process, too. So blow me and take your bullshit ¡®training¡¯ someplace else, bitch. I¡¯m going home.¡±


    Her eyes narrowed. ¡°What are you getting at?¡±


    ¡°That if everything I¡¯m struggling through ends with me turning out like dad, then I might as well die.¡± I got closer to her, so close that we could look each other level in the eyes. ¡°You¡¯re no hero. You¡¯re not even Rylee.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I¡¯m not, and the other put that idea in your head first, didn¡¯t she?¡±


    ¡°Not surprised that you heard us talking.¡±


    ¡°So you knew I was listening?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re like an irritation on my skin, hard not to notice you.¡±


    Olympia smiled flatly. ¡°I always figured that you were the most physically developed. Even from where I come from, you¡ªthe previous you, at least¡ªwas so much further along than the government would have liked to believe, because sooner or later, they¡¯re gonna start taking action from the many talks they¡¯ve had about you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and what¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°How much do you really care?¡± she asked me, floating a little higher, making me look upward. ¡°How much, when the time comes, are you willing to put your life on the line, not just for America, but for the world?¡±


    ¡°What decision did the real me end up making?¡± I asked.


    ¡°The simple, easier, more selfish and arrogant option,¡± Olympia said. ¡°Herself.¡±


    ¡°Shocker,¡± I said quietly. ¡°The world¡¯s been pretty shit to me so far. One thing after the other. I can look at all the pretty trees and sun-lit hills all day long from the atmosphere, but the people are making it hell to deal with.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like a true-blooded Arkathian answer,¡± she said quietly, fists tightening.


    ¡°What, I sound like a threat?¡± I asked her. ¡°Or do I just want Earth to be better?¡±


    ¡°And what does that actually look like in your mind?¡±


    ¡°It looks like the kind of place where I¡¯m not forced to go on bullshit side quests for you people, just so you can get something out of me every other day of my life. But I think I¡¯ve decided to ditch that for the old school approach. The kind of approach where I do my thing, don¡¯t care about the conspiracy part, and kill the bad guys.¡±


    ¡°So,¡± she said, ¡°what¡¯re you going to do when the bad guys are the government that deems you a threat?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Send in the nukes and the fighter jets. I bet that¡¯s a better idea than fixing their country.¡±


    ¡°You know just as much as I do that using that approach doesn¡¯t work,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ve tried it.¡±


    ¡°No, I haven¡¯t,¡± I said. ¡°I was stupid enough to listen to a supervillain who thought she knew what she was doing, when she clearly fucking knew she didn¡¯t actually know anything. But I can¡¯t blame her. We both thought that the world was ours and that making it a better place was our birthright, but dad couldn¡¯t even do that without bending over backwards for a crime lord and getting himself iced in the process. Mark my fuckin¡¯ words, you gods forsaken clone, that I¡¯m gonna be better than him by tenfold. Not because I¡¯m buckling to anyone, but because I¡¯m wasting time with idiots like you and Thirteen every other week, pretending that any of this is actually helpful!¡±


    ¡°You really think all of what I¡¯m trying to teach you is useless?¡± she asked me.


    ¡°Well, isn¡¯t it?¡± I asked. ¡°I mean, the real version of me died in your reality, right? Even with all that knowledge they put in that head of yours, they still couldn¡¯t get the fact down that wasting my time like this won¡¯t put me on your side, but push me away from it. My own mentor fucked me over. The same guy who would sit and watch cartoons with me on Saturday mornings, just because he had the time to entertain me, also turned out to be the same guy poisoning my half to death. I am done. Finished. No more bullshit. No more lies. I know I¡¯ve said this all before, and you probably know that better than anyone, but goddamn, am I tired of trying to be a modern hero.¡±


    Hell, let¡¯s take this all back to the Golden Age of Capes. Let¡¯s snap a neck or two and put the rest of ¡®em in prison. Bianca is coming back to me whether that guild liked that idea or not. Why she was taken isn¡¯t my problem anymore. They crossed a line, they were going to face me, and they were going to fear me, and they were going to give her up and leave us alone, or they were going to find out the hard way how easily humans can come apart.


    I hated to sound like my old self. The angry, bitter, time-bomb frothing at the mouth for blood.


    But I eventually wanted time to sit down and just¡­be. Just exist without any of this.


    I wanted the powers, and I was getting used to the responsibility.


    What I don¡¯t want anymore is people using me.


    Lucas is gonna have to die then, Ry.


    And¡­that was something I was just going to have to do.


    Which also meant leaving and starting this superhero thing from scratch, and doing it the right way.


    If Olympia had an issue with that, then I¡¯d never know, because the fist that erupts right through her head cuts her sentence short.

 Issue #69: For the Future 2

    If it wasn¡¯t for the wind, most of her brains would have splattered all over my face and chest. I watched, pretty stunned, as her body slumped to its knees and leaned forward, pouring out the rest of her head onto the blisteringly hot soil. I stared at the corpse, at the meat and the blood and spat bitter saliva. Actress vomited and cursed, but I was more focused on the girl behind her. Through the gore and the wet scarlet trickling down her glasses, she stared at me with the same wide-eyed, shocked expression she¡¯d been wearing for hours. Glasses shakily stepped backward, her entire arm smothered in blood. She stared at her fingers, at the loose fist she was still holding out toward me.


    Glasses screamed. Shrieked so loud it blew dust into the air and had my ears ringing for a minute straight even after he stopped and fell to her hands and knees. I held my hands to either side of my head, trying to get my balance back, shaking my head and watching her fruitlessly scrape the blood off her arm. But all she was doing was making muck. A bloody, grainy mud that stuck to her hands and only got thicker and thicker the more she tried.


    Only when my ears stopped ringing did I ask her a simple question: ¡°How the fuck did you do that?¡±


    Actress shoved me aside and screamed, ¡°Now how are we supposed to get home, you nerdy fuck?!¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to!¡± Glasses wailed, scampering backward, tripping over her own two feet and falling back down onto the dirt. I grabbed Actress¡¯ shoulder and held her in place. ¡°I-I thought I could help! I saw the rest of you get hit, and all I could do was fly away.¡± She swallowed hard. So hard I could hear it. ¡°All I wanted to do was help!¡±


    Hell of a way to win the game, tell you what.


    ¡°Fuck me,¡± I muttered, massaging my eyes. I glanced at the body again, taking in the sight of seeing my own corpse without half its head screwed on tight. Bones, flesh and a throat that spat blood until her heart finally stopped beating. I tensed my jaw and looked at Glasses, because now we had a problem. A very big problem in the shape of a girl who was scrawnier, thinner, more cowardly than the rest of us combined. I hadn¡¯t even heard her get here, or even felt her appear, either, and yet she¡¯d caught Olympia off guard. She¡¯d stuck her fist through her head like it was made out of paper mache, and¡­that wasn¡¯t good for us, because Supes without control are asking for it.


    Actress shrugged off my hand and grabbed Glasses by her t-shirt with both hands. ¡°You,¡± she snarled, her lipstick now a jagged smear across her lips. She pointed a finger at the body. ¡°What the hell do we do now, huh?!¡±


    ¡°I said I was sorry!¡± she wailed again, even louder this time. Tears and sand crusted her reddening cheeks as Actress pulled them that much closer. Should I intervene? Probably, yeah, but alarm bells were going off inside me, because suddenly this was very, very bad. Olympia knew things that we simply didn¡¯t. She would have known how to get out of this place if we managed to win. She would have told me, for a fact, what she actually was and what her reality was like and what the hell actually killed her reality¡¯s real me. She knew almost everything. She would have known where Bianca was. And that thought struck a nerve. That thought alone had my blood going in rushing waves past my ears, nearly drowning out Glasses and Actress one screamed and the other wailed her sorry.


    All I could do was stare numbly at the necklace hanging from Olympia¡¯s jagged throat, dangling in front of her lightning bolt symbol, drenched in so much blood that it dripped down her chest and onto the hot grainy sands.


    I pulled it off her body and held it in my palm, staring at the tiny bolt of lightning and the ring right beside it. I shut my eyes and held it, wrapping my fingers around it. I crouched and put her body on the ground, and if what Rhea had taught me was right, Arkathians didn¡¯t bury their dead normally. The sum of their body was put into one central place, and that¡¯s what I did, however messy, until the two idiots standing a few feet away from me were silent as they watched me tuck the necklace underneath her rigid fingers. Then I muttered something under my breath. Not a prayer, but a curse, because her body stank, and I couldn¡¯t remember the last time I¡¯d seen someone just¡­die. The Kaiju had been my last massive fight. A monster that I could barely remember, like everything that happened was a fever dream. Like it wasn¡¯t really me in control at that point. Then Cadaver and the state I¡¯d left him in, and yet all I can really remember from that time in the sewers was sitting there in that room in complete silence, listening to the sound of blood tapping onto the floor and the squelch of organs splattering onto cold metal tiles.


    All of a sudden I felt like I was back in that labyrinth with Circe, doing the same thing to the bodies. She¡¯d nearly called it barbaric, doing what I¡¯d done, and I figured to a normal person, it was. But it just had to be done.


    I might not have liked her or trusted her, but that was just a plain old execution. No resolution to her life, nothing to tell me she was legit or trustworthy. She died having an argument with me, and now she¡¯s just a corpse.


    Staring at my own body parts sent a shiver down my spine. There was no face to differentiate us.


    And her fingers held a death grip on her necklace, the ring glinting in the harsh sunlight.


    I sighed and stood, putting my hands on my hips and staring at the vast, empty desert. I turned my back to the two of them and walked several steps, breathing in some more, trying very hard not to resort to my older self.


    Because anger was a word that couldn¡¯t even come close to what I was feeling right now.


    The people I need end up dying or disappearing. The ones I don¡¯t need all keep on living.


    I looked up at the sky and thought, What the fuck did I ever do to you?


    Fucking. Pointless. The lot of it. First the labyrinth and all that time I wasted getting a cure to something that was already in production, making a billionaire even richer. Adam goes and saves the city all by himself, and a couple of people are wondering, Where the hell was the Golden Girl when we actually needed her? And I didn¡¯t have an answer for that, because it just didn¡¯t matter. Even this whole mess was just one big clusterfuck of events that I thought would actually give me something, even if that something was just training and leave me with a lot more questions than answers. I just didn¡¯t get it. What was I doing wrong? I was trying to help people the way I knew how, which was learning to rely on other people for help, but I guess that method works just as well as relying on myself for all the answers, too. I laughed dryly and pinched my nose, shaking my head slowly and tensing my jaw until I thought I might crack a tooth. I don¡¯t get it, I thought. I just don¡¯t freaking get it. What am I meant to do?


    Funnily enough, Lucas once said, It¡¯s never about being easy, it¡¯s about keeping on going, and I¡¯d found it so damned stupid and corny at the time that I¡¯d blown a raspberry and given him a thumbs down for even saying it.


    Looking back on it now, a small part of me almost thought that maybe¡­


    Listening to his orders might¡¯ve just been the easy way. Letting someone else tell me where to go and how to get there and what to do as soon as I get there almost worked out for me better than it the moment I decided I should start following my own orders and relying on the wind to take me to wherever it is that I really wanted to go.


    Adam must have one hell of a life, having the world at his feet, the city in his debt, and the support of an entire organization and government behind him. The guy sucks, don¡¯t get me wrong, but that kind of stability¡­


    ¡°Rylee?¡± Actress said quietly.


    ¡°Glasses, come ¡®ere for a sec,¡± I muttered, not turning around. The sound of crunching sand came in odd intervals, staggering and wobbly until she was in front of me. I looked at her, put a hand on her shoulder and smiled.


    Then I put my fist in her gut. Not hard enough to kill her. But more than hard enough to drop her.


    She puked at my feet and clutched her stomach, kicking around in the dirt in agony. I watched her froth at the mouth as she silently screamed, trying to gasp for air as she coughed and spluttered and started coughing blood. I kicked her in the head like a soccer ball, just like I used to on the team. Her head snapped backward. Her nose smashed against my sneaker, spitting blood all over the blistering sands. She wailed again, because of course she would, crying like some fucking child, writhing around on the soil like a pest, trying to scamper away from me, but I wasn¡¯t going to chase after her. She was going to lie there in a pool of her own vomit and blood and saliva until she could stand up again, and I was going to watch her, and she better get up, because if she didn¡¯t, I¡¯d kick her again and again until her face caved in and her brains spilled out from the fractures I¡¯d leave around her skull.


    ¡°Jesus,¡± Actress whispered from a few feet away. She moved to get to her. I glanced at her.


    She stopped.


    ¡°Do me a favor,¡± I said, walking past Glasses, ¡°and tell Suits and Quarterback I¡¯ll see ¡®em around.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± she asked, flying after me and stopping in front of me. ¡°You¡¯re just gonna leave?¡±


    ¡°Move or I¡¯m gonna move you, Hollywood.¡±


    Her brow furrowed as she neared. ¡°I asked you a question, and I¡¯m not afraid of you.¡±


    I stared into her eyes, and that¡¯s what gave it away¡ªshe was terrified, and good.


    I would be too, if the person in front of me wasn¡¯t kidding. It took about ten seconds before her resolve melted and she looked away, moving aside. Then I was in the air, a bullet in the sky arcing through the few clouds in the pale blue. Didn¡¯t know where I was going, but I had a rough idea. Going home was now my priority, and getting to the humans was as good of a chance as any, unless this reality¡¯s version of myself killed Thirteen, putting a full stop in a plan that was materializing just as fast as I was flying. Or¡­Witchling, right? She could probably do the whole Fracture thing, too. She was powerful, smart, and would probably also be dead, considering she¡¯s also a massive threat to the Empire. Fuck. Fuck! I yelled a curse that got snatched up by the wind as I landed hard into the Earth, for once because I didn¡¯t fall or get hit, but because I was so pissed off that I needed something to destroy.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Which just so happened to be a small concrete shell of a building, maybe a house, that came apart like Lego bricks the moment I went straight through it. I stood in the rubble as wind whipped the gray dust into the air around me, and look, I know it was childish, I know that I was meant to be better than this, above my emotions now and a smarter hero and whatever but I was tired. Just so freaking tired. I sat on a fallen slab of stone and hung my head, then dug my fingernails into my scalp, still trying to come up with some kind of way to fix all of this mess.


    ¡°Bear witness, all, to the faltering of the Goddess of War.¡±


    When I looked up at the voice, I was in that same gray-scale landscape I was in months ago when I sold my soul. Oh, fuck me, not this Thing again. It was in front of me, shimmering and flickering like always on this eternal landscape of gray sand and lasting dunes. This time, though, I was still myself, and not just an outline with white cracks where my scars are. Same clothes, same smears of dirt and the grime under my fingernails. I cupped my face and shook my head, not wanting in the slightest to get into it again right now with this freaking Thing. Not when it felt like I was losing my mind. Not when it felt like my heart was climbing up my throat and trying to suffocate me of oxygen.


    ¡°Nice to see you too,¡± I muttered, not looking at It. ¡°Make this quick, will you? What do you want?¡±


    ¡°A fraction of your time,¡± It said. The sands shimmered as It spoke, rubbing against the soles of my feet in an odd pattern, making my skin crawl. ¡°Your life to this current day has been tumultuous and tiresome to watch.¡±


    ¡°Just imagine living it,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°Oh, yes, but I have,¡± It said. I looked up, finding It still in the same place. ¡°I¡¯ve never left your side, not until the day your body is deceased and your soul can fully be mine. I¡¯ve warded imminent death several times over for you, God Butcher. The fates of the universe are unhappy with your survival, or as you homosapiens tend to call it, a roach which continues to cling to life. Some say arrogance. Most say defiance.¡± It got closer. ¡°I whisper a will to live. A stubbornness to claim what you wish so badly to gather in your arms and make your own one day soon.¡±


    ¡°Bianca,¡± I whispered, straightening up. ¡°You¡¯re talking about her?¡±


    ¡°A great sacrifice,¡± It said, circling me. ¡°A trade for your dearest.¡±


    I paused, then frowned. ¡°You¡¯re bartering for her safety?¡±


    ¡°Well¡ª


    I was in It¡¯s face in a heartbeat. The sands surrounding us didn¡¯t move, and neither did It. ¡°I think I need a second to process this, but you¡¯re saying you can influence the shit that¡¯s been happening to me this whole time?¡±


    ¡°Child,¡± It said. ¡°I live beyond the boundaries of your capabilities. Though your path is rigid, it is not set in stone. Malleable and ever-changing, though the outcome, the final outcome, continues to remain the same since our first encounter. What I want so badly from you, child, is nothing more than a simple wager for your beloved.¡±


    ¡°Hold on,¡± I said. ¡°So this whole time, you¡¯ve sat here and watched my life fall apart, and you could¡ª¡±


    ¡°No,¡± It said. ¡°I do not work in that manner, and quite frankly, what I am doing here with you is rather wrong in the eyes of the universe, and considering the many instances I have saved your life without even your knowledge might be the cause for the slew of, what you might deem, bad luck that you¡¯re experiencing. I was next due to see you once you perish for your final time, Goddess of War, but I have since taken a quaint enjoyment in your persistence against forces acting against you. I have shadowed countless lives. Seen trillions born and trillions die in microsecond bursts of flickering embers. My existence is outside your realm of understanding, and yet you entertain me, Andira.¡± It flickers again, appearing behind me, making me spin around. ¡°In short, I find you rather pleasing to watch. My previous thoughts of you remain. Your hands will always remain dripping in the blood of the generations which will come after you, but you have kept your word and even continue to battle against your fate.¡±


    I had several thoughts running through my mind this second. I landed on one. ¡°When did you save me?¡±


    ¡°One does not need to look further than just a moment ago, when you watched Olympia perish. A moment too soon and an inch to the right, and it would have been your head obliterated,¡± It said. ¡°What I do might seem like a chance to you, but trust me, child, the universe wishes to wipe its hands clean of you every moment it gets.¡±


    ¡°Then¡­then why was I born in the first place, if it wants me dead so badly?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Because you are pivotal, irregardless of what your life ultimately means to it.¡±


    ¡°Right back to square one, talking about how I¡¯m just so freaking special,¡± I muttered. ¡°Just cut the crap for once and get to the freaking point. Seeing you is the last thing I need right now. What do you actually want?¡±


    ¡°A wager, child, is what I want most,¡± It said, getting closer, so close that my skin felt like hundreds of tiny ants were marching up my veins and circling around my joints. ¡°I offer you a possibility of shifting your chances.¡±


    ¡°What the hell does that even mean?¡±


    ¡°One life for another, both equal, both in the balance.¡± It nears again, close enough for me to hear the hum that resonated from Its body¡ªnot a hum, no, but the voices of countless. ¡°Your struggles here are temporary, but they will quake the universe and its folding realities in ways you will soon learn, but as of now, your Earthly desires are what drive you most: your love and your compassion, and oh, Goddess, what a might emotion for what is to be such a terrible machine that¡¯ll grind the bones of nations between its two hands without a second thought.¡± It stops, goes silent, and then quietly says, ¡°Your mother and your beloved are both not meant to live beyond this year.¡±


    The sands underneath me stilled, and so did my heartbeat.


    ¡°What?¡± I whispered, partially in a daze.


    ¡°My gift to you is foresight, child, at the expense of your life and its goodwill. The fates do not take rather kindly to mortals taking lead in their lives through action, but I find it quite the game toying with them, Ry¡¯ee.¡±


    ¡°Be quiet for a moment and tell me something,¡± I said quietly. ¡°They¡¯re both meant to die?¡±


    This year?


    It was December back home, wasn¡¯t it? Fuck, was it? November? Gods, Ry, what the hell? What the hell?


    ¡°One,¡± It said. ¡°The other lives, to a capacity.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck does that mean?¡± I asked, nearly grabbing It.


    It vanished, then reappeared behind me, spinning me around again, but I was more panicked this time, my throat a lot drier and my tongue sitting fat and thick in my throat, choking me silent. ¡°What it means is what it rather unfortunately means. In truth, both will perish in just a handful of days, possibly more, possibly even less than that, but I offer a wager: a soul for a soul. One will live and the other will not, and the decision you will make falls upon you and you alone. My assistance comes in taking you to whichever you choose. From there, your fight is on those same hands that will raze planets. Be quick deciding, God Butcher, time stands still for nobody at all.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked It, spreading my arms. ¡°Why the hell would you make me choose? Why not both?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s rather entertaining watching you, and that¡¯s really all there is to it.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I said weakly, taking a step back, shaking my head¡ªheart in my throat, stomach in a terrible knot trying to make me sick. ¡°No, that¡¯s just not how it works. I don¡¯t choose either, and you wouldn¡¯t help me, and both of them end up dying? But if I choose one of them, then the other ends up living? What the fuck is that? What the fuck are you playing at? You think this is funny? You think this shit is freaking entertaining? This is my life that you¡¯re ruining, just because you can sit back and have a good old time watching me lose people I fucking love?¡±


    ¡°Let me make something clear,¡± It said, voice resonating through my bones. ¡°I tolerate your existence despite your arrogance because of the adversity you face. Your death can happen in the next few moments. It may happen in the next hundred years. Regardless, your soul now belongs to me. Your fate belongs to me. What I am is neither a god or a force of nature. I belong outside those words and outside your feeble human mind. My desires come from a place of intrigue, because for whatever reason, I fancy understanding why exactly it is that you turn out how you always do, no matter your life paths, no matter how they differ: a vengeful, hateful, being of untapped and uncontrollable power which always falters.¡± It stayed silent for a moment, leaving my breaths, panting and heavy, to fill the silence. ¡°I, for one, believe it is your human spirit. You are incapable of becoming your true self.¡±


    I remained quiet, swallowing nothing but air. ¡°That¡¯s it? You just don¡¯t understand humans?¡±


    ¡°Do you, child, understand the tumultuous life of the insects beneath your boots?¡±


    ¡°No, but¡ª¡±


    ¡°Do you ever ponder their strife, their pain and agony and their loss?¡±


    ¡°They don¡¯t have those fucking emotions. But I¡¯m a person.¡±


    ¡°And yet to me,¡± It said, ¡°you are nothing but an insect, and to you, the humans were once nothing more than a primitive, hairless species barely capable of thought and urgency.¡± It circled me again, as if it wanted to take in every single emotion bleeding from my pores. ¡°You should be grateful I have chosen to take an interest in you. I personally think losing both your mother and your beloved in one breath without a warning would be quite the devastating loss, would you not agree? Because one day, Goddess of War, I will be your saving grace, and you will appear at your lowest, scraping at the grains at your feet, begging for my aid. What you do now will determine if I aid you or even answer your call to begin with, Ry¡¯ee.¡± It stopped in front of me. ¡°Now, make your decision, child.¡±


    I¡¯m being held hostage by a flickering piece of shit.


    And I¡¯ve never wanted to kill something so badly.


    ¡°And yet you cannot,¡± It said to me. ¡°You never do get the chance. So, your choice?¡±


    ¡°Neither, you fucking grease stain,¡± I snarled.


    ¡°So you choose both of their deaths, then? Rather unfortunate, but quite interest¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up, I¡¯m not done talking.¡± I pointed my finger at It. ¡°If you want to learn something about humans, then here¡¯s something you should remember: out of all the planets in the universe, out of all the races and the species that haven¡¯t even stood a chance against the Empire, Earth is the single planet that made them pause. Yeah, sure, I first thought they were pretty useless, but now I¡¯m figuring that they might all be pretty useless, but I like a lot of them, and hate even more of them, but without them, I¡¯ve got no home. I¡¯ve got nothing. At the end of the day, the humans tolerate me. They use me, and they try to kill me, but some of them at least want me on this wet blue rock, so here¡¯s what you¡¯re gonna do: you¡¯ll send me back home, and I¡¯m gonna save them both, and when all of this is said and done, you¡¯ll get your entertainment. If I fail, then¡­at least that¡¯ll make you happy. If I win, then I want a free favor from you at any point in time.¡± It almost spoke, then I added: ¡°That¡¯s what we call a real wager.¡±


    ¡°But child,¡± it Said. ¡°Their deaths are certain. At least one of them. My deal ensures one will live.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want your grubby hands fucking up my life,¡± I spat. ¡°Butt off and watch me work.¡±


    ¡°There are no realities where you succeed, Daughter of Zeus.¡±


    ¡°Then you must not be great at seeing the future, because I¡¯ll just have to make one.¡±


    ¡°Your arrogance, for a while, seemed to vanish and falter.¡±


    ¡°I needed a reminder that I can do this shit myself.¡±


    Then It laughed, making the ground shimmer and my muscles tense. ¡°As you wish, child. Though once you fail, the one who perishes becomes mine, traded for your soul. I will no longer influence your life from then.¡±


    Saving yourself from having to grant me anything I want, sneaky fuck.


    And putting my life squarely back in my hands if it all goes to hell.


    But it meant no more interference, right? No more bullshit.


    ¡°Deal,¡± I said.


    ¡°Best of luck, God Butcher,¡± It said. ¡°Your shriek of failure will be heard across the universe.¡±

 Issue #70: The Star of Something New

    It was the sound of chirping birds that startled me awake, because that was something way too peaceful of an alarm for the likes of me. I dragged my head off a pillow and sat upright, feet on the fuzzy red carpet and head still feeling like it was getting massaged by two forceful hands. I groaned and forced my eyes open, using the back of my hand to rub the crust away, stopping it from gluing my eyes shut. Where am I? No, I knew the answer to that. I knew it from the moment the faint smell of home slid down my throat when I swallowed. This was actually my home. My house. The one I¡¯d grown up inside, the same exact room with the large mirror in the corner where I used to pretend, every day after school, that I was some kid superhero getting ready to run up a mess in the city in my red and blue pajamas and a towel for a cape. Fists on hips and my feet shoulder-width apart, chin up, chest puffed, and ready.


    Just so ready to get out there and fly and not stop until the sun rose, not even stopping for that so I could keep chasing it until it dipped back below the horizon. Fast like a bullet, shining like the sun, its Zeus up there, so supervillains, you better run. That was the old jingle for the cartoon they made of him. Didn¡¯t last long. Got a few episodes before it was canned, and even up to now, I still had that silly little theme tune stuck in my head, and I¡¯d always change the words around when I was standing in the mirror, trying to make a song that fit my name instead.


    I couldn¡¯t remember if it ever did, but fast like a bullet, shining like the sun always had a nice ring to it.


    And staring at myself in that same mirror now, still seeing that little version of me standing there¡­


    She would have looked at me and asked why the hell I looked so beat up and hollow.


    Gods, Ry, you look like shit. I rubbed my eyes and the circles around them. My hair was a rat¡¯s nest that stank like one, too. Filthy clothes so dirty I left a dusty outline on my bed, complete with sweaty smears and all kinds of fluids, some of it blood, not mine hopefully, and the rest of it grime and sweat mixing together into muck.


    But hey, at least that thing held up its end of the deal. It brought me back home.


    Whether bringing me to my actual home was its intention, or it was just screwing with me, I didn¡¯t know. But I appreciated it, even if this didn¡¯t feel like the room I grew up in anymore. Nah, no way. Not by a long shot.


    I was too beat up to belong to this place, anyway. The chick who lived here was happier. Cleaner.


    I was kind of a mess, and I guess that was more than just physically. I figured I needed to admit that to myself eventually, and something inside of me didn¡¯t feel right anymore, like a part of me was just along for the ride now, kind of numb and distant, far away from what was actually around me. Getting hit in the face used to get my blood spiking and heart thundering, but when Olympia hit me, I kind of just didn¡¯t really care about it that much.


    Shit happens, I guess, and that¡¯s just how the cookie crumbled.


    I¡¯ll blow my nose and dab away my tears later. Don¡¯t deserve to cry just yet.


    Saving Bianca might do the trick, but I¡¯ll just have to find out when I get there.


    Look at you, falling for a girl you used to write about in your diary, I thought, massaging my face and looking around my room. Then Harper found it in my backpack at lunch once, and that was the end of that fiasco.


    Gods, I could probably find so much in here from months and years ago. And it looked so¡­clean.


    My bedroom was embarrassingly colorful, with all kinds of superhero posters stuck on the walls and minifigures dangling from the ceiling fan, poised like they¡¯re flying off into the distance. Some of the posers were old and torn up from the night mom kicked me out, and someone had gone through the hassle of taping them back together and sticking them on the walls beside my sports medals and picture frames that I¡¯d smashed on my way out of the house. Now, though, they were fine. The glass was new and the frames had been replaced, not even a single scratch. Stacks of comic books sat on my desk, all a little worn and colorless. My Cleopatra nightlight was still plugged into the socket beside my dresser, and when I crouched beside it and turned on the switch, it lit up, its tiny golden light flickering and fading and forcing itself into existence. Thought you would¡¯ve burnt out by now. I sat on the carpet, my back against my bed, head turning, eyes searching, because this had to be some kind of cruel way of It showing me what my life could¡¯ve been if it hadn¡¯t turned to shit the moment I graduated, but¡­no, this was it.


    This really was my bedroom, and there wasn¡¯t a speck of dust or tuft of lint anywhere to be found. I smiled to myself, because the thought of mom, the same lady who could create a billion-dollar pharmaceutical miracle drug, who also never managed to really figure out how to work the oven, would come in here and keep making my old bed, dusting off my comics, rewashing my clothes and opening my window to let the breeze inside, and all before she went to work, was just insane. She probably hired a cleaning lady to come in here and get things done.


    Because¡­come on, this was my mother we were talking about. She wanted me out of her house so badly she threw my clothes in handfuls onto the grass and told me, screaming, waking up half the neighbourhood, to go.


    To get the fuck out of her life, because she swears that nothing has made sense since I arrived.


    I figured it was time to get out of here. She¡¯d probably hate the idea of me being here.


    I guess It just wanted to spit in my face one last time before I had to go off and save mom, anyway. I sighed under my breath and stood, my muscles aching and my head pulsing. Needed to get to work. I¡¯ll head home and get a bite to eat and shower, make sure Ava and her uncle haven¡¯t given Dennie a heart attack by stressing him out, then I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll go and¡­ I put my hands on my hips and stared at the carpet, the tiny singed hairs from when I first found out about my powers and were trying them out, to the scuffed floor from when I¡¯d nearly smashed right through the ceiling when mum knocked on my door, asking me what was taking me so long. If you really wanna know what I had been doing that day, and why we¡¯d been so late for church that morning, it was because I¡¯d been trying not to get killed by some octopus that had a grudge against me. Gods, it was so stupid. Bastard nearly choked me out until I bit off a chunk of its head. He called foul. I called bullshit, because he was the one who¡¯d been hiding in my fish tank, which was now empty, dry, because Cooper the goldfish probably died a few months ago just after I had left.


    I glanced over my shoulder at the window, at the drizzle of snow pelting the grass and the picket fences, the houses beyond and the cars parked in driveways. Silent, happy, kids playing in the white tufts, throwing the stuff and chasing each other. Normal, like everything was normal, and all I could notice was the worn down paint from the amount of times I¡¯d climbed out of that window at the dead of night, at the old, squeaky hinge that was probably happy I left because of how many times I used to have to force the thing open with Vaseline all over it.


    An idea crossed my mind, and listen, I know I was meant to get a move on, but I just needed this.


    Please, Gods, just let me have this one thing.


    If mom really did hire a cleaning lady, then this would be dirty and dusty, moth-eaten and old.


    There was a cubby hole under my bed, behind the drawers I used to keep my socks and underwear in. You¡¯d have to go pretty deep inside the bed, practically und it to find the space, and that¡¯s where I kept my¡­


    No way.


    I¡¯d had to pull my drawers out of the bed and onto the floor around me. Wasn¡¯t the size I used to be, and my arms are bigger than they were when I last kept my first high school backpack stuffed deep, deep under the bed.


    I unzipped the thing, a pink bag with lots of sparkles and fairies and yeah, so what? I liked it.


    What I liked¡ªno, loved¡ªeven more, was the costume still inside of it.


    Not dirty, not filthy, and not moth-eaten.


    It smelt like detergent. Like mom¡¯s clothes.


    I stopped myself before I could choke on my own tongue. I didn¡¯t have it in me to fully take the clothes out of the backpack, but I smelt them, held them between my fingers, feeling their tattered cloth and oh, Gods, she¡¯d even gone through the trouble of sewing up the holes I¡¯d burnt through the fabric years ago. Or someone else had. A part of me was holding onto the hope that it really was her doing all of this, because a part of my mind needed to be soothed, calmed, massaged and made into putty for at least five minutes before I went to make sure she was safe.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    I know this silence wouldn¡¯t last forever, and I held my old costume top like it wouldn¡¯t. I gripped it, almost like I was angry at the thing, but all I wanted to do was keep holding it, keep it close to my chest and not stop smelling it, but I had to go, had to leave, mom wouldn¡¯t be happy, and her fancy security system would tell her someone was in the house, which would send the police down here in a heartbeat. I wasn¡¯t gonna deal with that. Not today. Not yet. So I put everything back where I found it and stood at the door, hand on the worn bronze knob, not turning to look over my shoulder, but instead shutting my eyes and trying not to move, because for a split second, I almost thought I was gonna cry. Can you imagine? Me, crying? Yeah, right, that¡¯s for people who¡¯ve got the time.


    I swallowed the emotion and squared my shoulders, then opened my bedroom door.


    It was very, very clear that something was wrong in a heartbeat.


    Coming down the stairs, each of them creaked loudly, announcing themselves to the shadows sitting on every chair, spread on every surface, and lingering in the air that they weren¡¯t alone. But I was. The police tape and the dry spattering of blood on the kitchen floor made that obvious. No chalk outlines. No stink of death or body parts and that was nearly the moment I stumbled, standing completely still, I nearly stumbled on my own feet. I stood frozen, breathing getting heavier and harder with each passing second, there in the empty living room with the couches draped in plastic and the kitchen fucking empty, the fridge switched off and blood on the fucking floor.


    I shut my eyes and swayed, then sat on what used to be dad¡¯s armchair, face in my hands.


    I wasn¡¯t jumping to conclusions. I wouldn¡¯t jump to conclusions. I couldn¡¯t jump to conclusions.


    My head was pounding. My foot bounced on the floor, faster and faster like a drum.


    It wasn¡¯t supposed to be her.


    The thought came so suddenly it felt like a shard of ice in my gut, but¡­it wasn¡¯t. I could tolerate my life getting blown to bits by people who wanted me gone. I could stomach that. But my friends? The only family I¡¯ve got? Mom and I don¡¯t see eye to eye on anything, we¡¯re just too different, too traveled on different paths to even hope of ever coming to a consensus about anything in our life times, but that¡¯s all I¡¯ve got. She¡¯s all I¡¯ve got. I hated that a part of me still clung to her, still loved her, and if I¡¯d been raised on Arkath through and through until I was old enough to register for the Expansion Effort, then I wouldn¡¯t have cared at all what she meant to me. She would have been a vessel for my birth and that would have been about it. Dad didn¡¯t care about the feelings I had for him because he wasn¡¯t meant to. Where he¡¯s from, your offspring are your bloodline and your future, so you make damn sure they¡¯re strong, they¡¯re fast, and they¡¯re smarter than you¡¯ll ever be or have ever been so you aren¡¯t forgotten.


    So the historians and the teachers can trace their fingers through history and still find you generations after your death, but the fact is I didn¡¯t grow up there, and I grew up here, knowing that mom was my shield to all of this.


    Hell, a part of me understood why she hated the idea of me even being a superhero in the first place.


    Being one meant someone could save her, though.


    Being one means she¡¯s always been in danger.


    ¡°Gods, I fucking hate you,¡± I whispered, standing up so suddenly a gust of wind threw the plastic sheets off the furniture. ¡°And we need an honest to God conversation when I find you, because I swear, you¡¯re one hell of a¡ª¡±


    The main door rattled, then opened. I heard swearing and headed into the foyer, finding a woman standing in the doorway. Bright green eyes, crows feet around them, freckled cheeks and pale skin. She stared at me with a confused smile on her face, tugging off her balaclava and untying her heavy black boots, leaving them wet and snow covered on the welcome mat. She¡¯s got a key? I don¡¯t even have one of those anymore. Who the hell is she?


    And why did I just notice the suitcases that¡¯ve been sitting in the kitchen, and the two extra bags with her just now? But the bloodstains threw me off, and I haven¡¯t slept properly in months, I¡¯m hungry, I¡¯m kinda angry, and now I¡¯ve got a complete stranger shedding off her heavy black winter coat as she kicked the door shut behind her, muttering under her breath about how cold it was before she passed me, tried to work the thermostat, but gets nothing in return. Then she goes searching through the kitchen, cabinet after cabinet, finding nothing, nothing, and finally finding an old sachet of coffee that she tears open and pours into her mouth raw. She chews on it, making her nose wrinkle, because even without my nose I know that thing is probably expired. She spits out a wad of coffee in the trash can and runs the tap, which at least has some water left in it. She drinks for a while, and I fold my arms, waiting for her to finish. I catch a glimpse of dog tags hanging from her neck, clicking against the marble sink.


    She turned it off, wiped her mouth using her compression shirt, then said, ¡°Can I help you?¡±


    She sounded British, the very heavy kind I¡¯d make fun of back in school with Emelia and Grant.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°This is my house, and I¡¯d kinda like to know what you¡¯re doing here.¡±


    She raised an eyebrow and walked closer, folding her arms, too. She was tall, well-built, strong shoulders and stronger jaw. Intense eyes that I¡¯d seen somewhere before but couldn¡¯t place. Cropped blonde hair tinted a slight silver, curly and messy and sweaty. British leaned a little closer, squinting her eyes at me, then started to smile again as she snapped her fingers. ¡°Fuck me, you look exactly like your mother! Last time I saw you, she¡¯d sent me a cute little picture of you in the kitchen sink sneezing on bubbles!¡± She laughed. I didn¡¯t find that funny, only hated that my cheeks might have started burning a little more. ¡°Now look at you, all grown up. Don¡¯t really know about the filthy clothes and the dirty hair, but I don¡¯t really understand young folk and their trends these days.¡± Nudging my arm, which doesn¡¯t move, she heads into the living room. ¡°You can tell me all about them in the next few days.¡±


    I grabbed her shirt and pulled her back so she was standing in front of me. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°Stronger now, too,¡± she muttered, rolling her shoulders. ¡°What do they feed you Yanks with?¡±


    ¡°Superheroes and diabetes-filled cereal,¡± I said. ¡°Now answer the question, lady.¡±


    ¡°If I must,¡± she said, rolling her hand through the air. ¡°Name¡¯s Rebecca. Worked in the special forces for a while, you know ¡®em, all those fancy seal teams and green hatted boys and the rest. Got bored and figured I should find something more fulfilling to do with my life, like move to England, start speaking proper English, appreciate a good breakfast and get out of this crazy mess of a city and its superhero shenanigans.¡± She smiled. ¡°Europe has got a much better handle on this crap. Their laws are healthier, but I guess the government is in a race with purely just itself in trying to get you guys into the military or act as their strong arm however they want, but damn those pesky United Nations, I¡¯m sure the White House always says, because they¡¯re stopping them from going international.¡±


    An international Olympiad would probably be the death of me. Adam¡¯s face on the Eiffel tower?


    I¡¯d rather fight Cadaver for a month straight.


    ¡°What¡¯re you even getting at?¡± I asked.


    Rebecca shrugged again, almost like it was a tick of hers. ¡°I¡¯m just saying that if you ever want to get out of this country, you better do it before anything hits the fan, especially in this city, which is covered in fan deposit.¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s time you get out of my freaking house,¡± I said. ¡°My mom¡ª¡±


    ¡°Called for my help a week or so ago,¡± she said, silencing me. ¡°Ronnie is in trouble.¡±


    Suddenly, the peppy little performance she was putting on came to an end.


    ¡°Where is she?¡± I asked, throat dry. ¡°Where¡¯s my mom?¡±


    Rebecca squeezed my shoulder. ¡°You know why I left this city, Rylee?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not answering my question!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s ¡®cause kids like you, barely out of school, have the world on your shoulders the moment that some freak in a costume sees you¡¯ve got powers they like,¡± she said. She sounds like him. Exactly like him. It¡¯s her voice.


    It was the eyes, too. Those damn green eyes.


    ¡°And I just don¡¯t like that very much,¡± she said. ¡°Especially when you get taken advantage of, too. The kids in this city aren¡¯t taken care of enough and nobody seems to bat an eyelid. It¡¯s mental, right mental, y¡¯know?¡±


    I stepped out of her grip. ¡°Hey, by any chance, do you have a¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t even get me started on that bloody training program they¡¯re legally obligated to say that it is when in reality, all those Supes ever do is get tested week-in, week-out in classrooms for a few months and then get a badge telling them they can go wherever the fuck they please and fix the issue however they want, because Uncle Sam said that it was completely fine, since they¡¯re ¡®certified¡¯ because a piece of flimsy office paper says so! Crazy!¡±


    ¡°Lady,¡± I said, speaking over her before she could keep rambling. ¡°Do you, or do you not, have a¡ª¡±


    ¡°Brother?¡± Rebecca said, sighing. ¡°Sadly. I should¡¯ve eaten him in the womb, but alas, I faltered.¡±


    ¡°Your last name,¡± I said quietly. ¡°It¡¯s Freeman.¡±


    ¡°Not until two years ago,¡± she said, holding up her hand and showing off a ring. ¡°Gardener, now.¡±


    We were out of the house in a heartbeat, her throat in my hand.


    I wasn¡¯t gonna take any chances.


    Not because someone else speaking all high and mighty, someone else who¡¯s known me since I was barely old enough to stay up past seven at night, came to me thinking they were everything I needed to fix my life.


    I personally think enough of that has happened, and I¡¯ve kind of got places to be.


    Usually, I¡¯d let them air out their bullshit.


    Not anymore.


    Not this time.