ã€ŠArrogance: Volume One of Ebb &amp; Flow [VOLUME ONE IS COMPLETE]ã€‹


 Prologue

    I am different. For as long as I can remember, I have been different. My sense of detachment far exceeds normal boundaries. It is as if I am a spirit possessing a long-dead corpse. Emotions are a foreign concept to me. My earliest memory is proof of it.

    My mother and I were out grocery shopping and were on our way home. I was five years old and in the backseat when a drunk driver ran a red light and crashed into our car. The left side of the vehicle was crushed, and my mother¡¯s body was left mangled and destroyed. I watched my mother die, the light fading from her eyes as she told me everything would be fine. And I felt nothing. She wasted her last words on a broken boy who felt no attachment to her. She died in the accident, and all I got was bruises and a scar on my left side. The paramedics who arrived at the scene didn¡¯t know I was alive because I was silent. My injuries weren¡¯t that severe, and I had already come to terms with the pain. They told my father I must be in shock. Yes, my mother created and cared for me, but I could not and did not feel anything for her. She was a caregiver I didn¡¯t care for.

    My father decided I would start seeing a therapist for what doctors assumed was some sort of PTSD due to the accident. I saw the therapist for years, and thankfully, over time, I learned how to mimic the correct expressions and the appropriate emotional responses to situations. So many mornings, I practiced smiling and frowning in the mirrors to get it just right. Psychology became an interest of mine that''s continued to this day. None of the different possible diagnoses I read about fit me. PTSD, ASPD, and BPD don¡¯t quite describe my brain. I don¡¯t have any impulses to hurt people or violate boundaries; I just don¡¯t feel anything. I¡¯m a freak anomaly that doesn¡¯t seem to fit any particular definition.

    At a basic level, I understand that losing a baseball game is upsetting, that putting your pet down is sad, or that someone insulting you makes people angry, but I do not experience those emotions. I can recognize them thanks to my studying, but I do not understand them. It¡¯s similar to the disconnect between hearing about atrocities being committed in another country and actually living through them.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    My father, Daniel Blakely, is an architect. A diligent man who works tirelessly to provide for me. He puts in endless hours at his job to pay for everything. The least I can do is avoid trouble and be self-sufficient. The man lost his wife, so I don''t want to add to his stress. The last thing the widower needs is a problematic child. So, I carefully formed my personality as an above-average student with varied interests and hobbies like cooking and working out. Fitting in doesn¡¯t mean unnoticed; it means overlooked. I¡¯ve created a close-knit group of friends that hasn¡¯t changed over the years. It takes me a while to learn how others will act, and by carefully curating the friend group, I can minimize surprise complications.

    Things were going well until sophomore year. My three friends asked me why I had never pursued any girls at our school. It was an oversight on my part that I quickly remedied. I found a classically pretty girl of similar social standing who struggled with self-esteem issues. Maria Estella was a girl that most guys assumed would never talk to them, leading to her feeling isolated. Carefully, I made contact with her and slowly got her to open up more and trust me. The truth is she would¡¯ve fallen for anyone who showed her attention. We¡¯ve been together for the last two years, but that¡¯ll end at the end of this school year. I¡¯m leaving our small town of New Farford to go to a university that is two and a half hours away, and she¡¯s leaving for UNH in the opposite direction. We¡¯ll try the long-distance thing as I slowly become busier and busier until we separate.

    Still, even with all the juggling of friends, hobbies, and acting like a normal high school guy, I¡¯m still incredibly bored. One more month and senior year will be over. Then I¡¯ll move and hopefully find something to break up how boring life is. I¡¯m looking for anything that can provide me with even a minute amount of excitement or feeling. Day in and day out I pretend to be normal, that I¡¯m not just a damaged machine missing important parts.

    Maybe I¡¯ll reinvent myself and become someone completely different. Because the current Eryk Blakely is a doll wearing a facade of humanity. An above-average everyman but not unique in any discernable way. I am intelligent, attractive, and well-off. I have everything needed to become somebody, but in a world where people can pick up cars, shoot lasers from their eyes, and fly, I am nobody.

 Chapter 1 - History Lesson

    "Over the last two hundred years, there have been four monumental changes to humanity as we know it. Does anyone know what they are?¡± Mr. Frederick asked the class.

    Margaret Andrews hand shoots up. "The war between Ukraine and Russia that led to the Big Bang, the original trigger event.¡±

    ¡°Correct, Ms. Andrews. But please wait until I call upon you to answer. I wouldn¡¯t want to deprive your classmates of the chance to participate.¡±

    Margaret¡¯s face flushes in embarrassment as she looks around nervously. I¡¯ll never understand why Mr. Frederick makes those comments; no one wants to be in this class. Every student watches the clock and counts the minutes until school is out. Why admonish the only student who likes school? Margaret is the studious head in a book type. You¡¯ll never see her at a party or on a date. She¡¯s our valedictorian and wants to join the BNA after college. I don¡¯t understand the allure or even how exactly that became her goal. Our small town is far removed from the world of Capes and Cowls. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever met anyone with powers.

    ¡°Mr. Blakely, can you give me another one?¡± he asked me.

    I must¡¯ve looked bored. No other reason for him to pick me. I need to be present and stay in character; Eryk is a good student and pays attention.

    ¡°March 1st, 2030. The Neuvohuman Accords were created alongside the Bureau of Neuvohuman Affairs by the United Nations. The Accords are the rules, regulations, terminology, and procedures regarding Neuvohumans. They also list the categories that all Neuvohuman powers fall under, as well as the rating scale for said powers. They pioneered the terms ¡®Capes'' and ¡®Cowls¡¯ for describing where Neuvohumans fall regarding the law. They are held up and enforced by the BNA, whose function is to mediate Neuvohuman disputes, incarceration of criminal Neuvohumans, relief workers for disasters caused by Capes or Cowls, and also help protect the identity of Neuvohumans.¡±

    ¡°Textbook answer, Eryk. Now, does anyone know what separates a Cape from a Cowl?¡±

    Aubrey Iskan, one of the four people in my friend group, raises her hand. An athletic girl of southeastern descent and absolutely obsessed with Neuvohumans.

    ¡°Yes, Ms. Ishkan?¡±

    I can see her wince as he fucks up her name for what must be the millionth time. It¡¯s nearly unnoticeable if you aren¡¯t familiar with spotting unconscious expressions. She powers through and answers confidently. ¡°Cape is the term used for Neuvohumans fighting crime and saving lives. Cowl is the term used for any Neuvohumans who operate outside the law. This includes criminals, terrorists, and even vigilantes. Initially, the Neuvohuman Accords used the terms heroes and villains but determined that they didn¡¯t properly allow for nuances. The BNA found it harder to convict Neuvohumans who were known as heroes, regardless of their crimes.¡±

    ¡°Wrap it up, Ms. Ishkan. I¡¯m sure the class would like to move on to the rest of the lesson,¡± Mr. Frederick said, cutting off Aubrey before she got too wound up.

    Aubrey deflates at his words and slumps into her desk. I will have to set time aside to talk about this with her. I cannot wait for this year to be over; this group of friends has long become a burden. Each of them is a collection of insecurities and needless whining. Aubrey is an intelligent and driven woman, and she¡¯ll be leaving this town and Mr. Frederick behind, never to be thought of again. Why on earth does she care what happens in high school?

    ¡°The final two are just as important as the ones Ms. Andrews and Mr. Blakely have said. They are the Middletown Massacre and the resulting founding of the Heroes¡¯ Union by the Supreme Six. Just two and a half years after the Big Bang trigger event, one of the worst tragedies to happen on American soil occurred. Two Cowls, known as Schizophobia and W.O.B, used their abilities to corrupt and ruin the city of Middletown, Connecticut. Schizophobia, real name Jeremiah Stafford, could cause mass hallucinations, terrifying hysteria, and psychologically degenerating effects on anyone who saw his face. W.O.B., which stood for Whore of Babylon, had no known civilian identity. She could shape living material like clay, and together with Schizophobia, they turned the entire population of Middletown into broken, violent monsters that fought and devoured each other. In the end, it required six of the most powerful Capes to come together and quarantine the city until it could be destroyed. Over Forty-Seven thousand lives were lost that day. It serves as a reminder of the destruction a Cowl can cause and that the world needs Capes who are willing to do the dirty jobs,¡± Mr. Frederick said.

    I wonder what it looked like before the government stepped in. When you view it through Google, all that¡¯s left is a smooth black surface. Whatever weapon they used left the city glassed over. What kind of tough conversations did the president have before deciding to write off all those lives? My mental musings distract me long enough that Aubrey is now speaking.

    ¡°Apex, Voyde, Captain Chrono, Mawler, Ratqueen, and their leader Technologica, each of them was the true definition of a hero, even if we don¡¯t use that word anymore,¡± Aubrey said.

    ¡°Thank you for such a compelling, if not entirely unnecessary, spiel,¡± Mr. Frederick said.

    The bell rings, signaling the end of the school day. I could¡¯ve sworn we had another twenty minutes. I tend to lose track of time when I¡¯m in my head. Aubrey is the first one out of the classroom, while I can see Margaret fidgeting at her desk, waiting behind to talk to the teacher. I follow the blob of students as we leave the classroom and enter the bustling hallways. I will never understand why people have such trouble walking. People are leaning against lockers, groups standing in the middle of the hallway. It is pure chaos and disorder. I spot Aubrey¡¯s hair bun amongst the masses and make my way over to her. It would be easy to force my way through, but that wouldn¡¯t fit Eryk. Eryk is friendly and non-confrontational. So I slip past bodies until I arrive at her locker. Our other two friends are next to her as she vents. Marcus Driggs is the stereotypical all-American guy next door. He¡¯s tall, handsome, athletic, and white, everything Middle America loves. Marcus was captain of the football team until he tore his meniscus, cutting his college dreams off at the knees. Despite that, he always manages to have a smile on his simple face. I¡¯ve always found the phrase ¡°golden retriever boy¡± puzzling until I met Marcus. The boy is entirely and utterly daft. The girls in our school find it charming, and he helps balance out our group compared to Jean-Luc. Jean-Luc Dupont is a dark-skinned, squirrelly boy. He and his parents migrated here when he was six after the Cowl Noxus made Paris uninhabitable. Aubrey, Jean-Luc, and Marcus are the ones I chose to be my shields. Our eclectic group of nationalities and backgrounds makes us a diverse friend group that appears unbreachable. Which is what I wanted it to be.

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    ¡°You should go to the principal, Aubrey. If he still isn¡¯t getting your name right, it¡¯s not an accident. It¡¯s on purpose.¡±

    ¡°Maybe it is. He¡¯s old. You know how old people get. Besides, why would Mr. Frederick get her name wrong on purpose? That doesn''t make any sense,¡± said Marcus.

    ¡°It¡¯s called a microaggression, Marcus. You wouldn¡¯t understand,¡± Jean-Luc retorted.

    ¡°Are you calling me dumb?¡± Marcus asked.

    I could see the tension between the two, so I decided to intervene.

    ¡°Easy guys, let¡¯s not make Aubrey¡¯s issue about yourselves. And no, Marcus, he wasn¡¯t calling you dumb. He meant people like you and I, won¡¯t understand because we don¡¯t experience it.¡±

    Everyone visibly relaxes at my words, and I try to steer us off of this particular topic. This conversation is one we¡¯ve had hundreds of times. Jean-Luc will try to convince Aubrey to confront our teacher, while Marcus tries his best to be supportive, even though he doesn¡¯t know what¡¯s happening. Jean-Luc and Aubrey will feed off each other and get worked up into a storm until Aubrey realizes she¡¯s as timid as a mouse. For a person obsessed with Capes and Cowls, she has neither the courage of heroes nor the confidence of villains. It''s far better for me to nip this before they get started.

    ¡°Aubrey, do you need a ride home today? If so, I¡¯ll drive you. I have to stop at Roxy''s for some things after school, and you¡¯re like five minutes from there.¡±

    ¡°Wha- um yeah. My mom¡¯s working late again, so she can¡¯t get me.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re still on for the party tonight, right? Jake Deckler is hosting the final party of our senior year. I know it¡¯s not really what any of you would want to be doing on a Friday night, but it might be the last time the four of us get to do something like this.¡±

    Amazing Marcus. He perfectly ends any chance of that conversation resuming. Thank you for saving me at least twenty minutes. Not even Jean-Luc would attempt to ignore our friend¡¯s genuinely sincere question.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m pretty tired after that test in fourth period. Might just go home and go to bed,¡± Jean-Luc said.

    ¡°But it¡¯s the last party of the year. We have to go as a group. You guys promised,¡± Marcus complained.

    ¡°Ugh. I¡¯m kidding. Of course, we¡¯ll be there. A promise is a promise, after all,¡± Jean-Luc replied with a smile.

    ¡°After dealing with Mr. Frederick, you couldn¡¯t stop me from getting drunk if you tried,¡± Aubrey answered, smiling for the first time since class ended.

    ¡°Obviously, I have to be there to take care of you three idiots. Wouldn¡¯t want Jean-Luc to have a repeat of The Christmas Fiasco.¡± Jean-Luc looks down in embarrassment at my mention of his sloppiest night ever. ¡°Relax, dude; I¡¯m kidding. I will be the DD, though. Maria will probably come over before the party, and we can take her car to get to Jake¡¯s house.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a plan. I¡¯m gonna head home. I¡¯ll text when I¡¯m on my way to your place, Eryk,¡± Marcus said before heading for the exit.

    ¡°And then, there were three,¡± Jean-Luc laughed. ¡°I¡¯m also going to take off. See you later, guys.¡±

    ¡°You ready to leave, Aubrey?¡± I asked.

    She nods in agreement, and we finally leave the school. I¡¯ve now had to stay an extra thirty minutes past the final bell because of my friends. The upside to it taking forever to leave is there won¡¯t be any traffic getting out. We walk to the parking lot and find that my ruby-red truck is the only vehicle in sight besides a couple of the teachers'' cars. The simple two-seater was a gift from my father for my sixteenth birthday. He likes to say that all a man needs in a vehicle is for it to be reliable and straightforward. The only problem is that I¡¯m the one my friends call when they want to move something. One more month until I don¡¯t have to help or think about any of these people again. The ride to Roxy¡¯s is blissfully quiet as we drive through town. Living in a small town means that any trip is, at most, a fifteen-minute drive. As I pull into her driveway, her phone chimes, causing her face to light up.

    ¡°Oh. My. GOD. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.¡±

    ¡°Are you okay, Aubrey?¡±

    ¡°No. I mean, yes, but sorry, it¡¯s just someone uploaded a video of Titania fighting off some Cowls!¡±

    My blank expression must have given it away; I have no idea who or what Titania is.

    ¡°DON¡¯T TELL ME YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHO SHE IS. For God¡¯s sake, Eryk, aren¡¯t you going to Quinstin for college? She¡¯s one of the strongest nonlegacy Capes and the leader of the Heroes¡¯ Union branch in Quinstin. Didn¡¯t you research the city¡¯s heroes before you decided to go there?¡±

    I hadn¡¯t. My life is so far removed from the world of Capes and Cowls that it hadn¡¯t even occurred to me to look that stuff up. There hasn¡¯t been a single Cape or Cowl that¡¯s ever come out of New Farford, so I rarely think about Neuvohumans if it isn''t at school. Especially since the BNA scrubs the internet of any pictures or videos of Neuvohumans fighting, they say they do it to prevent people from getting inspired to commit crimes, but some fringe conspiracists claim otherwise.

    ¡°Haha, I¡¯ll be honest, I didn¡¯t. I don¡¯t even know what a legacy Cape is. It¡¯s not like any of that involves me. I¡¯m only going to Quinstin because they have one of the best engineering programs in the country. I¡¯m not like you, Aubrey. I don¡¯t want to go out and join the BNA and protect the world. All I want is an excellent high-paying job and to retire before I¡¯m forty.¡±

    ¡°Ugh, you¡¯re so boring. What I want is to make a difference and help people. I¡¯m not trying to shit on your dreams, but I crave adventure! And a legacy Cape or Cowl is someone who has at least one parent with powers. Having one parent with powers gives you a twenty-five percent chance of inheriting the same power or an offshoot of the same power as your parent. It increases to fifty percent with two parents. God, how the hell do you not know about this?¡±

    If anyone understands the need for excitement, it¡¯s me. I¡¯ve placed my bet on the possibility that I will find something in Quinstin that will make me feel. School, family, friends, none of it does anything for me. Emotions are nothing more than words on a page for me. Graduation will mark a clean end to this chapter of my life. Finding a new group to surround myself with will be a challenge, but one that I welcome. It¡¯ll be more challenging to infiltrate a preexisting group than make my own, as I did here.

    ¡°You can keep your adventure and superpowered parents. Now get out; I gotta go shopping.¡± I said with a slight grin.

    Aubrey hits me in the arm as she gets out, flipping me off with her middle finger. ¡°See you later, asshole.¡±

    As I pull out of her driveway, I let the smile fade from my face. It took years, but I have great control over my facial muscles. Whenever I¡¯m alone, I take the chance to relax. The drive over to Roxy¡¯s is uneventful, and I quickly buy the few items I need. Thankfully, no one from school is there to bother me and add more time to my errand. A quiet and pleasant drive back home was exactly what I needed to refresh my social battery before tonight¡¯s party.

    Unfortunately, my driveway, which should be completely empty, has a black SUV parked in it. This can only mean that my wonderful, attentive, loving girlfriend is here. I had hoped I would have more time before she arrived, but Aubrey wouldn¡¯t shut up, and now my alone time has ended. Taking a deep breath, I turn my truck off. Should I break up with her now and save myself the trouble of slowly undoing our relationship?

 Chapter 2 - What She Wants

    The driver¡¯s side door of the black SUV swings open, revealing black boots and tight jeans as Maria exits her car. Maria Estella is objectively attractive. Kind brown eyes and full lips sit atop a sharp, symmetrical face. She is a biologically appealing female. A crop top of some band she got at a thrift store completes her look. I spot a black scrunchy on her wrist and softly sigh before I get out of my truck. She quickly walks over to me with a smile blossoming on her face.

    ¡°Hello, Love. I tried to surprise you, but you weren¡¯t home,¡± she pouted.

    ¡°I dropped Aubrey off at her place. And I had to go to Roxy¡¯s for some things,¡± I said, holding up the plastic bag.

    ¡°Oooooh. What¡¯d you get?¡±

    ¡°Nothing interesting. My dad¡¯s back Monday, so I wanted to pick up a couple of things we were low on. Plus, I¡¯m cooking a family dinner the night he gets back. Oh, you should join us.¡±

    ¡°You sure you want me there? I don¡¯t wanna intrude upon family time,¡± she said nervously.

    Here we go with the insecurities and doubts again.

    ¡°Maria, I wouldn¡¯t have invited you if I didn¡¯t want you there. Besides, like you said, it¡¯s family time, and you definitely qualify at this point.¡±

    She blushes at my over-the-top declaration before nodding. I quickly lean down and wrap her in my arms. She begins to protest my words, so I quiet her with a deep kiss. No tongue; that¡¯s not what she needs right now. This kiss is meant to convey love, not lust. Counting the seconds in my head, I pull my lips away but continue the hug. Control the pressure. I want to be comforting, not commanding. After a minute or so, I release her.

    ¡°Maybe we should head inside? What will the neighbors think about our embrace?¡± I said jokingly.

    A small giggle emerges from her, and we walk to my front door. My home is a two-story contemporary-style house. My father designed it before I was even thought of. It has four bedrooms, leading me to the conclusion I was meant to be the first of several children my parents wanted. I used to wonder what my father would be like if my mother hadn¡¯t died all those years ago. He¡¯s not an evil man, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he is hollow. Not hollow in the way I am, but in the sense that a part of him died with my mother. He asks the right questions and shows interest in anything I pursue, but it hurts him to look at me. From the few photos we have in the house, it¡¯s obvious I share similarities with her, and I assume that worsens his pain. It¡¯s why I picked a school so far away from here. He¡¯s done his part of the parental contract, and the poor man could use a break. I wonder if he will end it all once I leave. He¡¯s had his will written for years. I found it when I was ten, searching for hidden birthday gifts. He¡¯s free to do it as long as I¡¯m not around to deal with any cleanup or reporting.

    Shaking thoughts of my father¡¯s impending suicide from my head, I unlock the front door and dramatically gesture for Maria to enter. I put my backpack on its hook and toss my keys into the bowl by the shoe rack. Organization is essential, especially to me. Maria knows this and thankfully follows my lead with her keys and places her boots away. She follows me into the kitchen and helps me put the groceries away.

    The kitchen is spotless and modernized. State-of-the-art utensils and appliances for any manner of cooking are all over the room. At the center of the room lies the island, complete with a built-in sink and four stools. The central air turns on, adding ambient noise to an otherwise silent house. Maria does share one thing in common with the real me: she enjoys the quiet. She patiently waits for me to finish putting everything in its place before hugging me from behind. She inhales while leaning against my back.

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    ¡°You smell nice.¡±

    ¡°Thanks? I¡¯m not wearing any cologne or anything, so I¡¯m not sure what it could be.¡±

    I am lying. I water down cologne so that you can only smell it if you are against my body. It creates a connection in her mind and fools her brain into thinking it is my natural scent.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to explain it, but you smell like you. It''s comforting. Safe. You smell like never having to feel alone. I¡¯m glad I met you.¡±

    I turn around and pull her close. ¡°I love you so much, Maria. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do without you in my life. I remember the first time I saw you and I knew it right there.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah? You knew from the moment we met?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    She stares into my eyes, and for a second, I think she can tell I¡¯m lying. But she smiles, and I know everything is still good. Constantly having to reassure her of everything is tiresome. Ending our eye contact, I turn away to grab a carton of juice from the refrigerator. It¡¯s mango peach, a disgustingly sweet drink that Maria adores. I''m not too fond of the stuff. It is chock full of sugar and artificial flavoring. Maria lets go of me long enough to grab two glasses from the cupboard. I pour her drink before filling my own cup with water.

    ¡°Thanks. I know you hate sugary stuff, so I appreciate you keeping this here for me.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a big deal, plus it makes you happy. Which is more than enough of a reason to do it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the thing, Eryk. My parents don¡¯t do that stuff for each other. Sometimes, I think they don¡¯t even like each other. They only communicate through sly remarks, digs, and vague put-downs. And that¡¯s not love; that¡¯s staying together for the sake of convenience,¡± Maria said.

    I gulp down my water while waiting to see if she wants to continue. You can learn a lot from people just by listening. A byproduct is that people find you more likable when you listen more than speak. When you rarely talk, it gives more weight to your words. It makes every sentence more powerful. After studying human interactions and cold reading techniques, I can glean slightly hidden details. And everything I¡¯ve seen of Maria¡¯s parents leads me to believe they don¡¯t love each other. Granted, it¡¯s not as if I have any personal understanding of the concept¡ªjust observations and theories developed through watching others. Her mother¡¯s smile never reaches her eyes and the way her father has a slight pause before answering his wife¡¯s questions, where it¡¯s clear that he had to think over his response and tone down the harshness. Even then, they needle each other and make personal insults disguised as jokes. When Maria and I first started seeing each other, I used her parents'' relationship as a framework for what not to do. She doesn¡¯t seem to want to continue, so I¡¯ll provide her with an exit from the upsetting topic.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t your job to fix your parents'' issues. Focus on things you have power over, like having fun tonight. It¡¯s the last party of our senior year.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re probably right, babe. Let¡¯s make it a night to remember,¡± Maria said.

    Her eyes change instantly, staring at me with a carnal intensity. Maria Estella is timid in every aspect of her life except for one: sex. With girl-next-door facial features and the curse of curves, Maria elicits physical responses in most people, and I am not immune to her charms. She kisses me deeply, a kiss full of longing and need. My tongue parts her lips as we kiss. She bites down on it, scraping as I pull it back. We¡¯ve only had each other as partners, but I¡¯d say she is quite proficient at the art of seduction. Pressing my back to the fridge, she kisses me with an insatiable hunger. She pulls my shirt off and slowly traces her nails down my chest, letting the tension rise before reaching my jeans. I grab her chin tightly, pulling her up to me.

    Sex is a conquest, about establishing dominion over another. It''s an exhilarating game of tug of war, but the game is less fun if you remain unchallenged. Picking her up by the waist, I place her on the island. She throws her top onto the floor as I tug off her pants. Matching black lingerie that clutches her body the way a man lost at sea clings to a lifeboat. I descend upon her like a wolf amongst cattle, feasting on sweet, supple flesh. She grips my sandy brown hair like the reins on a runaway horse. Emotions are elusive to me, but sex, sex is just a form of exercise.

 Chapter 3 - A Little Bit of Research (Updated 10/28)

    ¡°Do you want me to join you in the shower?¡±

    If I say yes, Maria¡¯s coy smile promises another round or two. ¡°I¡¯m starting to think you¡¯re only using me for my body,¡± I joked.

    ¡°Not just your body; your face is pretty good too.¡±

    ¡°Funny. You can shower after I¡¯m done.¡±

    I step into the shower and turn on the jets. My father designed our house to have all the amenities one could need, with each bedroom having a bath attached. Forty-eight pressurized holes, capable of nearly any temperature, shoot out, soothing my sore body. The hot water stings as it hits my back and shoulders. Maria must have really done a number on my back with her nails. Shower gel comes from a dispenser built into the wall, and I loofa all the sweat, fluids, and grime off my body. It smells of cinnamon and oak, with some dumb name like Annihilation Mountain Cleanser. Washing the conditioner out of my hair, I activate the drying function. Several grates open at my feet, and the jets blow warm air at me.

    Maria enters the bathroom, still naked from earlier. I notice a couple of hickeys on my neck. I¡¯m going to have to wear something to cover that up. Not that I¡¯m capable of feeling shame, but people might use it as an excuse to talk to me. Mirrors are strange to me. They further exacerbate the sense of detachment I usually experience. I recognize the six-foot-three, sandy-haired, green-eyed teenager as myself. I look over the athletic frame reminiscent of a swimmer marred by a faint thin scar on the left side of my ribs. The only reminder of the accident. I scrub my face, devoid of facial hair, and start to style my hair. Long at the top and short on the sides, I put some product in and use my fingers to comb it back.

    I leave Maria to shower and begin to get dressed. I check my phone and see that it¡¯s six. The party isn¡¯t until eight, but it¡¯ll take thirty minutes to get to Jake¡¯s house. The groupchat shows several texts from the others. It looks like they¡¯ll be arriving by seven-thirty¡ªplenty of time to prepare myself for the upcoming party. I throw on a grey undershirt with matching briefs, followed by a pair of black socks and dark jeans. I walk past my bed to the closet, picking a nice white turtleneck. My style is simple but confident, fashionable but not flashy. My room is the exact same way¡ªa clinical facade masquerading as an average teenager¡¯s room. Posters of bands from decades ago dot the walls with a queen-sized bed with exactly two pillows in the middle of the room. A projection television mounted to face my bed, complete with the latest immersive speakers in the room¡¯s corners. White oak furniture throughout the room: a bureau, a nightstand, and my desk against the left wall. My computer and monitor sit atop that desk with little knickknacks decorating it to give it more personality. Every detail is meticulously planned to show that my serious outward persona hides a fun-loving soul.

    Of course, it¡¯s complete and utter bullshit. Nothing about Eryk Blakely is real. I sit at my desk while waiting for Maria to finish getting ready. Turning on my pc, I remembered what Aubrey had said earlier. Typing ¡°titania¡± into my search bar reveals the same video reposted across hundreds of different sites. I pick a random site and begin to watch the video.

    The footage is shaky but high quality, as expected of cell phone cameras. In it, a woman made of metal is facing off against three others. The first is some anthropomorphic wolfman as tall as a streetlamp. The next is a woman head to toe in gladiatorial armor, sporting a gladius and shield. The final member of the trio is a man wearing an orange and red suit shooting flames at Titania. Titania levitates above the street with three cars rotating around her. She flicks her wrist at her opponents, and the vehicles come flying at them. The wolfman catches the first car, but another hits him from above immediately. I watch the gladiator cut a thrown bus in half before leaping into the air and kicking Titania down. The street explodes from the impact of her metal body hitting it. Whoever is filming could do a better job. They always seem to be just seconds behind the action.

    The following two and a half minutes show only the sidewalk as the recorder runs to safety. Massive explosions, as well as glass shattering, can be heard through the screen. By the time the uploader has another visual of the battle, it has ended. All three of her opponents are defeated. Each is restrained with metal. The wolfman has two cars sandwiching him and a metal band muzzling him. The man with the flame motif has a light pole wrapped around him like a python. The only one still awake is the gladiator, and she is the one most heavily restrained. Every part of her has a separate metal band holding it in place. Each one has a thick metal wire attached to either the street or a nearby building, holding her perfectly still. That¡¯s not stopping her from yelling obscenities at Titania, though. The video ends shortly after.

    I wish there were more. Something about that video captured my opinion in a way nothing has before. I¡¯ll have to ask Aubrey if she knows where I can find other fights to watch. Looking at the comments gives me the names of the villains, no Cowls, that Titania was fighting. Wolfman¡¯s name is Lycan, which is just painfully uncreative. BurnBlast is the gentleman in the colored suit, and the woman is called Athena. There was a comment about how the fight was a mismatch due to Titania being a Tier 4 Manipulator. The way the commenter capitalized Manipulator makes me believe it has a different meaning. I never really paid much attention to any of this A quick internet search leads me to the Neuvohuman Wiki. There are separate links for most major cities, including Quinstin¡ªtime to do that research Aubrey had mentioned.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    All Neuvohuman abilities fall under one of ten categories:

    Caster: Long-range attackers.

    Tinkerer: Capable of creating futuristic technology that can violate the laws of physics. All Tinkerers have a specialty.

    Bruiser: Enhanced strength or durability.

    Alter: Capable of changing the properties of themselves or other people/objects.

    Shifter: Capable of changing into one other form. Typically with its own abilities.

    Traveler: Movement-based abilities.

    Ruler: Creation of minions or controlling people/animals/insects.

    Neutralizer: Can nullify other abilities via specific conditions, such as touch, sight, and more.

    Mentalist: Abilities that relate to the mind, psyche, or brain.

    Manipulator: Able to control other objects/forces/elements.

    Digging deeper down the Neuvohuman rabbit hole leads me to discover ratings. Each ability is graded on a scale of zero to five, with zero being a useless or potentially self-destructive power. Very few Neuvohumans are rank zero, with some people debating their existence. But why would there be a rank zero if there weren''t examples of it? Five is reserved for the truly powerful¡ªNeuvohumans with abilities that could destroy a city alone. I clicked the Quinstin link and found pages for the most significant Capes and Cowls pages. I see Titania¡¯s name and decide to check out the information they have on her. Unfortunately, very little information is made public, but what I saw did enlighten me.

    Titania

    Designation: Cape

    Residence: Quinstin

    Affiliation: Heroes¡¯ Union

    Real Name: Unknown

    Height: 5¡¯8-5¡¯9

    Weight: Unknown

    Classification:

    Manipulator (Tier 4): Her body is made of an unknown metal. She can manipulate any known metal with no upper limit (citation needed). She can mimic flight using her ability on herself.

    Her ability manifests itself in so many different ways. It¡¯s clear that this is a topic I¡¯ll have to look into when I have more time. I hear the jets stop from the other room and quickly close my browser. Eryk doesn¡¯t care about Capes and Cowls, and it would be odd for him to be on that website.

    ¡°Hey, which-¡±

    ¡°Second dresser bottom drawer,¡± I answered.

    Maria spends nearly seventy percent of the week here at my house, so I organized a drawer for all her clothes and items. Otherwise, she¡¯d clutter the room and leave it in disrepair. She walks over to the dresser and starts to pick out her outfit, deciding on a band t-shirt, a red and black flannel tied around her waist, and ripped black skinny jeans. It¡¯s another variant of her usual style. I hug her and kiss her head.

    ¡°You look cute, babe.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. And now we match, so no one will get any ideas.¡± She said icily.

    Not this again. One time, over a year ago, at a party, I helped out a classmate who was way too drunk. I don¡¯t even remember the girl¡¯s name, but I helped her find somewhere to lie down. After propping her with pillows so she wouldn¡¯t choke to death on her vomit, I left her with a friend. Maria acts as if I cheated by helping the girl out.

    One of the reasons she fell for me is because I appear kind. My relationship with her has exposed me to emotions I would¡¯ve missed out on without her. Thankfully, Eryk isn¡¯t a person who is envious or jealous, so I don¡¯t have to pretend to be insecure. But Eryk is a caring and thoughtful boyfriend, and thus I must assuage her self-inflicted inadequacies.

    ¡°Maria, darling. I have eyes for you and only you. There isn¡¯t a woman in this world who could even catch my attention. I love you.¡±

    A simple smile and pretty language are all it takes to pacify her. Her face lights up at my words of reinforcement. She can¡¯t help it, the need for constant reassurances of love. I blame her parents¡¯ inability to care for anyone other than themselves. But their fuckup allowed me to circumvent the hassle of the high school dating scene. For that, I thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Estella.

    ¡°I know that, but it isn¡¯t you that I¡¯m worried about. You¡¯re too kind, Eryk. So you don¡¯t see what I see.¡±

    Ironic of her to think there¡¯s anything I don¡¯t notice. I¡¯m not blind to other girls¡¯ interest in me¡ªa tall, intelligent, good-looking boy who¡¯s never been the subject of rumors. A tragic backstory in the form of a dead mother and an impenetrable friend group marks me as mysterious. And what teenager can resist a good mystery? I understand their interest in me, but I would never reciprocate it. Eryk is faithful to a fault.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s what I have you for,¡± I said. ¡°You wanna watch a movie before the others get here?¡±

    ¡°Sure. Ooo, let¡¯s watch a classic tonight like American Psycho. I love the lead in that, the manic energy he brings to the role.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine by me, and I¡¯ll get some popcorn made while you set up the movie.¡±

    I head downstairs to my kitchen, looking through the cupboards for microwaveable popcorn¡ªspicy jalapeno or cheddar garlic, decisions, decisions. I yell upstairs to her to ask which one she wants. Cheddar garlic it is. A movie and popcorn combo is a great way to shut your brain off and lose yourself in another person¡¯s imagination for an hour or two. I make my way back to my bedroom, sporting a big bowl of popcorn and a grin. It¡¯s time to relax before the party.

 Chapter 4 - The Party Part One (Updated 10/28)

    My phone chimes, a message from the groupchat. ¡°Looks like we can¡¯t finish the movie.¡±

    ¡°Ugghhh. But I¡¯m so cozy,¡± she whined.

    ¡°Up, up, up. Let¡¯s not keep them waiting.¡±

    "We could just skip the party and spend the night together?"

    "We already made plans to go with everyone," I said.

    I yank the covers off her and slowly pull her off the bed. She begrudgingly follows me downstairs and outside. ¡°Do you mind if we take your car? It¡¯s the only one big enough for the five of us.¡±

    ¡°Not at all, are you stuck being DD again?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not ¡®stuck¡¯ if I choose not to drink. You know I don''t like the taste of it. I¡¯m happy as long as you and the others have fun.¡±

    Early on in high school, I decided I wouldn¡¯t drink. Everything I¡¯ve seen about alcohol and its effects made me realize it wouldn¡¯t be good. Given my peculiarities, there¡¯s no way of telling how it would affect me. What if I mouthed off and ruined all my hard work?

    Jean-Luc, Marcus, and Aubrey are leaning against my truck, waiting for us. The four of us could each have our own style, completely different from each other. Aubrey¡¯s hair is up in a ponytail, and wearing some kind of streetwear fashion I don¡¯t understand. Lots of belts and buckles, and the fabric is both tight and billowy. Jean-Luc is wearing black dress pants, a bowtie, and a blue button-down dress shirt, while Marcus looks like a typical jock. Complete with a letterman jacket. Marcus¡¯ unwillingness to relinquish his past glory is almost cute. He still has the jacket despite the fact he¡¯ll never compete again. We exchange our pleasantries and greetings and hop into Maria¡¯s SUV.

    ¡°Look what I brought,¡± Aubrey said, pulling a bottle from her bag.

    ¡°Ayye is that Dicerno? How¡¯d you get a hold of that?¡± Marcus asked.

    ¡°My mom got it a couple of months ago. I¡¯ve been ¡®borrowing¡¯ it for weeks now, figured I should share with you guys.¡±

    ¡°Hey! Put that away until we get there. The last thing we need is to get pulled over by a cop and not even make it to Jake¡¯s.¡± I yelled.

    ¡°Okay, daaaaad. We¡¯ll wait to pregame until we get there,¡± Aubrey replied.

    ¡°Fuck you, Aubrey.¡± I laughed. Tonight I would be upbeat and cheerful. This will most likely be my last outing with any of my classmates. The final memory they will have of Eryk Blakely. Because after this school year ends, I¡¯m immediately moving to Quinstin to start fresh. It makes sense, given the persona I''ve created. I¡¯m a driven, dedicated student. It¡¯s obvious I¡¯d try and get an early start to my university career.

    The ride to Jake¡¯s house is a long one. His family has a large home in town that they use throughout the week, but we''re going to the Deckler mansion. Out in the wilderness, a mansion that¡¯s been in the family for generations. A 7,500-square-foot complex complete with an indoor and outdoor pool. Only one road goes out to the Deckler abode, and it doesn¡¯t have a single streetlight, just beautiful pine trees on either side for miles. Aubrey and Marcus argue over college basketball players while Maria and Jean-Luc discuss the party. I roll the window down and let the rushing wind drown them out. The quiet stillness accompanies the fading May sun in a way only nature can provide.

    Thirty minutes pass quickly, the drive ending as we pull into Jake¡¯s driveway. The sounds of the party drown out the crunch of pinecones beneath the slowing tires of the SUV. There are at least thirty cars parked, and the party is in full swing. Half the town must be here. I pull into an open spot, narrowly avoiding hitting some drunk idiot.

    ¡°GET OUT OF THE WAY, FRESHIE!¡± Marcus bellows from the back.

    ¡°Typical freshman, you have to pace yourself at a Deckler rager,¡± said Aubrey.

    ¡°Yeah, or you end up like Jean-Luc. Crossfaded, pissing all over yourself in a bush while carolers sing holiday songs.¡±

    ¡°Fuck off, Marcus. It was my first high school party, okay. I learned my lesson about mixing psychedelics, and I¡¯m never touching that shit again,¡± Jean-Luc responded.

    That night was quite a trip. Seeing the effects that the drugs had on Jean-Luc was enlightening. Seeing your baser urges exposed to the world and losing control of yourself to instinct is primal. I had considered trying drugs before that, but like alcohol, there¡¯s no way to tell what would happen. Better safe than sorry, my father always says.

    ¡°Babe, babe, hello? Earth to Eryk.¡±

    Maria is waving her hand in front of me, and my friends are staring. I got lost in my thoughts again. Playing a role constantly has caused me to become very introspective.

    ¡°Hah, sorry. Ignore me and let loose. I am but your humble guardian angel, keeping you all safe tonight,¡± I said dryly.

    That¡¯s all it took for Aubrey to break out the Dicerno, and everybody takes turns drinking out of the bottle. The pregame has begun, with the three quickly working through the remaining booze. Maria doesn¡¯t partake, probably waiting until we enter to start drinking. She prefers the more ¡°complex spirits¡± like bourbon and brandy¡ªa classy lady who enjoys the taste more than the feeling of getting drunk. Focusing back on the present as we walk up to the mansion. Booming EDM music is blaring from speakers as tall as me located all over the place. We walk through the front door, and teenagers are everywhere, drinking and grinding to the beat.

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    We step onto the chiseled marble floor; ahead of us are collapsible tables with kegs on them¡ªthirty-foot ceilings with golden chandeliers hanging from them, and a grand staircase leading to the second floor. The man of the hour is at the top with a red solo cup in each hand. Jake Deckler is the hometown hero and a walking trope. He has wealthy parents, is captain of the football team, dating the cheer squad leader, and is a massive piece of shit. Jake Deckler used to live in Marcus¡¯ shadow, the second-string quarterback who just wasn¡¯t good enough to start. Part of me wonders if Jake caused Marcus¡¯ accident, there are a couple of rumors about Jake¡¯s alleged cruelty. Rumors of bullying that his parents paid to cover up. Not my problem, nor is it my place to judge. He¡¯ll most likely drink himself to death before he reaches thirty.

    Marcus goes over to greet his buddies on the football team, dishing out handshakes and fistbumps. Jean-Luc and Aubrey head to the kegs, leaving me with Maria attached to my hip. We walk past the keg tables and to the second floor. I hear voices coming from a nearby room. Maria pulls me along to investigate, and we find about twenty people hanging out in a large study. A long L-shaped red couch sits against the wall. Two sets of drunk freshmen are sloppily making out on it. Their hands clumsily roam in a desperate act of public affection. Two tables are on the left with red solo cups set up in neat triangles; beer pong is a party tradition as old as time. Two teams of what I assume are sophomores, based on their looks. The game¡¯s pretty intense, and both sides are focused.

    Nameless faces dot the rest of the area, kids I¡¯ve seen before but know nothing about. Each has a story where I don¡¯t even show up as a background character. To them, I am the nameless one, a nobody. As my vision sweeps, I see someone I do recognize; Melanie Paelsi¡ªa curvy girl with paler features and an excellent bone structure. I feel Maria¡¯s arm tighten around mine as soon as Melanie smiles at me.

    ¡°Why is that bitch smiling at you?¡± Maria said with a forced smile.

    ¡°Relax, she¡¯s just being friendly. We¡¯re at a party, so have some fun.¡±

    ¡°Friendly? She¡¯s practically drooling. Does she not know we¡¯re dating? I don¡¯t see how since we¡¯ve been together for two years and are very public with our love. Maybe she needs a reminder.¡± Maria said before french-kissing me.

    I slightly open my left eye and see Melanie scowling, her face bright red in frustration. Maria can be pretty daring when I¡¯m involved. It takes guts for a girl as shy as her to pull off a move like that¡ªa brilliantly executed maneuver and decidedly mean. I pull away from her kiss and lead her to an open sofa. She sits on my lap and shoots a dirty look at Melanie. My girlfriend can be incredibly spiteful, and I won¡¯t be surprised if she does something to escalate this. I whisper reassurances and sweet words to try and calm her down. I close my eyes, rubbing her back until I fall into a dissociative rhythm to the thumping bass.

    She¡¯s patient and knows parties aren¡¯t my choice for a good time. I¡¯m unsure how long we sit together, but I believe in rewarding good behavior, so I ask her if she wants to raid Jake¡¯s dad¡¯s collection.

    Her eyes light up, and we sneak away toward the primary kitchen. Primary, as in there¡¯s a second one. The one we walk through is the size of the entire first floor of my house; the rich sure have it nice. I thought I had it good, but this place makes my home look paltry by comparison. We walk through the room, past punch bowls full of jungle juice and people at different levels of intoxication.

    I lead her through the maze that is the Deckler mansion like I''ve lived here my whole life. Memorization has always been a strong suit of mine, helping me keep track of the various idiosyncrasies that the people in my life have. A left, a right, and two more turns take us to an old cedar door. It doesn¡¯t fit the same style as the rest of the house and leads to the wine cellar. I remember reading that we still use wood because it handles the humidity and cool temperature better than other materials. Walking down the steps, I can''t imagine how much this must have cost.

    I called it a wine cellar, but there¡¯s plenty of other alcohol down here¡ªbourbon and scotch by the barrel alongside foreign liqueurs whose names I can¡¯t pronounce. In the center is a glass cabinet lit up to show off the bottles inside.

    ¡°And there, my dear Maria, is the good stuff.¡±

    ¡°You sure know how to treat a girl,¡± Maria replied.

    She walks to the cabinet and opens it, looking at the different bottles. She settles on a glass decanter with dragons carved into it. The alcohol inside is a rich gold color that looks like fossilized amber. The thing is probably worth tens of thousands of dollars. She pulls the stopper off and takes a small sip. Her eyes go wide; it must taste good.

    ¡°How is it?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s incredible, unlike anything I¡¯ve ever tasted: sweet, smooth, and the right kind of burn. I can¡¯t believe you remembered where this was,¡± Maria said.

    ¡°What can I say? You know I have a great memory.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but there¡¯s a difference between never forgetting anyone¡¯s birthdays and memorizing our classmate¡¯s house layout. I love you, Eryk, but that¡¯s pretty weird.¡±

    She¡¯s looking at me strangely. I¡¯ve made a stupid mistake. She¡¯s right, knowing Jake¡¯s house layout would be weird. In retrospect, looking up the floorplans of the house to find the wine cellar might¡¯ve been a step too far. I thought I should give her a pleasant happy memory for when we break up in a few months. Like my father, Maria has helped me in ways they don¡¯t even know. She has given me firsthand experience in imitating love and compassion and satisfying a partner emotionally. If it ends tonight due to a miscalculation, so be it. How can I play this off?

    ¡°Heh, everyone has their quirks-¡± I¡¯m cut off as the floor above us shakes.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Maria asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, and it can¡¯t be an earthquake. They don¡¯t happen on the East Coast.¡±

    Screams ring out from above, and my body starts moving up the stairs toward the noise.

    ¡°Eryk, Eryk, where are you going?¡± Maria yelled to me.

    I open the door, and the screams are so much louder. I check my phone, and we haven¡¯t even been here two hours. What could have happened? I retrace my steps through the house as I get closer to whatever is happening. Something is compelling me to discover the cause of the commotion, urging me onward as I run to the source. I slow down to a walk as I turn the last corner to the foyer. Carnage awaits me, pools of blood and charred corpses on the floor. Flaming holes in the walls and chunks of marble are missing from the floor. The front entrance looks melted shut, the two doors welded together.

    Marcus and the other popular kids are off to the side, kneeling on the ground. Cheerleaders sob uncontrollably, lying against their friends¡¯ lifeless bodies. Five people are in the middle of the room: Jake Deckler, his girlfriend Hellen Zhao, Kyle Thompson, and Hunter Fields. Across from them is someone in a black tracksuit, wearing a helmet shaped like a demon¡¯s face. It has curved tusks and horns with glowing red eyes.

 Chapter 5 - The Party Part Two (Updated 10/28)

    If I match it to the floor plan, I¡¯m in the second living room attached to the foyer. I crouch down and hide while watching the spectacle. The demon begins to speak, and its voice is slightly digitized.

    ¡°This is what you get, Jake, you fucking monster.¡±

    ¡°Why are you doing this? What did we do to you?¡± Jake screamed.

    ¡°Yeah, what the fuck, man?¡± Hunter howled.

    The helmet¡¯s eyes glowed briefly before lasering a hole in Hunter¡¯s head. His body slumps to the floor as blood gushes out of his face. I thought lasers would cauterize the wound, but the web page from earlier popped into my head. Tinkerers can create futuristic and fantastical technology that can violate the laws of physics. In front of me is a Neuvohuman, a Tinkerer in the flesh. And they¡¯re killing my classmates. I¡¯ve never seen a person killed before, least of all in this kind of fashion. This is completely different from the Titania footage. Seeing a Neuvohuman this close-up is intense.

    ¡°Holy fucking shit,¡± I said.

    The demon turns toward me. ¡°Who said that? Who¡¯s hiding? DON¡¯T FUCKING LAUGH AT ME!¡±

    I duck back down as a laser rips into the wall, slicing through it and engulfing the room in flames. A grunt slips out, causing him to shoot again. The room I¡¯m trapped in is beginning to fall apart, the fire licking at the carpet and devouring the drapes. I look around for an exit, but the way I came in is now blocked by flaming debris. I run across the room to hide behind some furniture. There¡¯s a large window that I could use to escape the blistering heat, but I can¡¯t stop watching. This is unlike anything I have ever seen. Nothing is stirring within me emotionally, I''m not even afraid of dying. But something is keeping my attention. I pull my turtleneck up over my mouth and nose. That should help with all the smoke I¡¯m inhaling.

    The masked man turns back to the others. ¡°You ask what you did to me? Stop pretending you have no idea what you could¡¯ve done to deserve this. Jake Deckler, you are a psychopathic bastard. YOU FUCKING TRIED TO KILL ME!¡± He yells as he rips his mask off.

    Davis Allen was the popular kids¡¯ punching bag until he went missing after Christmas break. The nerdy bookworm with no friends and a shit home life. His dad¡¯s an infamous drunk, the type to start a fight over nothing. So it isn¡¯t hard to imagine what he¡¯s like behind closed doors. His mother died when he was younger; we have that in common. Everything pointed in the direction of eventual suicide, so when he stopped coming to school, we all assumed that he finally did it. Their house has been empty ever since. I guess it turns out he triggered and became a Neuvohuman. Based on the murder and destruction, I think he classifies as a Cowl.

    The itching on my arm brings me back out of my thoughts. My sleeve is on fire. I quickly smother it out on the couch I¡¯m hiding behind. A turtleneck isn¡¯t the best fit when the room is over three hundred degrees. My face stings, and my eyes hurt from straining them through the smoke. Damn it. It looks like Davis killed Kyle while I wasn¡¯t paying attention.

    ¡°For years, you assholes tormented me. Nowhere was safe. You bastards at school and my fucking dad at home. I just wanted to be left alone, to finish high school and get the fuck out of this backwoods pisswater town. But you wouldn''t leave me alone. Always picking on me, attacking me, but you took it too far. You fucking assholes kept dunking my head into the freezing water at Colton¡¯s Pond. Over and over, I begged you to stop. I told you I couldn¡¯t breathe. But Kyle and Hunter held my legs while you pushed my head underwater. And you, Hellen, just fucking laughed. WAS IT FUNNY, HELLEN? THEN WHY AREN¡¯T YOU LAUGHING RIGHT NOW?¡± Davis screamed.

    Hellen is hysterically crying now. Snot and spittle are flowing out of her mouth and nose. Her hair is pressed against her face from the heat, and her makeup is running down it.

    ¡°I¡¯m so, so, so sorry, Davis. I didn¡¯t want to do it, but Jake made me watch. You know how he is, right?¡± She whimpered.

    ¡°HELLEN, YOU FUCKING BITCH! HOW DARE YOU?¡± Jake roared.

    Davis slides his helmet back on and gouges a huge line into the floor with his laser eyes. ¡°QUIET, BOTH OF YOU, BE QUIET!¡±

    I¡¯m so focused on the drama that I don''t hear the support beams above me creaking loudly. I manage to put my arms up as one of them falls, but now I¡¯m pinned between the floor, the beam, and the couch. My hands sizzle as I try to move the wooden beam. I¡¯m violently struggling as the realization of what¡¯s happening begins to set in. I can¡¯t die here, not like this. Not like some rat stuck in a trap, slowly roasting. After a lifetime of boring pretending, I die at the first interesting thing to happen in this town. No. No. NO.

    Something breaks within me as I continuously flail in an attempt to move. Suddenly, I¡¯m in two places at once. I¡¯m floating above myself, watching a different me or the same me, roasting alive. And then I¡¯m in a white void, nothing around me in any direction. The white grows brighter and brighter as a pounding headache rocks me. The headache worsens until it gets to the point where I can¡¯t take any more. What the fuck is this? My head feels like it will split open, but the pain grows until I hear what sounds like glass shattering.

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    Where did I just go? My brain is full of new knowledge, and adrenaline coursing through my veins. I ignore the sweltering heat and smell of burning skin as I place my forearms against the beam. I push with everything I have and give a little more for good measure. My sleeves destroyed and bare flesh sizzling, I nudge the wood just enough to weasel out from under it. I look down at my arms, and they look like melted plastic. Charred black, I give thanks that my nerves are too fried to transmit anything to my brain. I shakily stand up and see that everyone is dead now except for Jake and Davis. Hellen¡¯s bisected at the waist, and everyone else is in various cleanly cut pieces. He must have been sweeping the laser around while I was in the, wait, where was I?

    Jake Deckler is sitting in a puddle of what looks to be his piss. His eyes are puffy from crying, but they are vacant and defeated. Watching your friends and lover killed in front of you can be a bummer. I¡¯m waiting with bated breath for the moment Davis kills his tormentor; that¡¯s when I¡¯ll make my move.

    ¡°I have to thank you, Jake. I would never have gotten this incredible power if you hadn¡¯t almost killed me. I wouldn¡¯t have been able to defeat my demons finally. Get it, Jake? The symbolism behind the mask? I made my dad suffer the way I suffered. Now you¡¯ll suffer just like he did.¡± Davis laughed.

    Davis starts fiddling with a nob on his demonic helmet. Once more, the eyes glow, but it¡¯s fainter than before. When the laser finally comes out, it''s more like a faint red cone of light. It doesn¡¯t instantly shoot a hole through Jake. Instead, his skin begins to bubble like hot chowder. With a terrible wail, Jake howls like a wolf caught in a beartrap. As I sneak behind Davis, the sound is drowning out all else, including my footsteps. I bend down and pick up a broken piece of the chandelier. A jagged piece of glass; it would hurt if I still had any feeling left in my hands. I creep closer as Jake cooks like a marshmallow in a microwave. Davis still hasn¡¯t noticed me as I sneak right behind him. I cannot believe he is carelessly gloating when he has not even accomplished his goal. I jab the shard into the left side of his throat, underneath the helmet, and pull it all the way to the right. With my free hand, I hold his head in place.

    ¡°Thank you, Davis. You¡¯ve shown me my way forward,¡± I said.

    Davis¡¯ outburst about his trigger event ended up causing my own. I wish I had gotten something more offensive, but I¡¯ll make do. Counting in my head until the required five minutes have passed, and I can feel it deep within me. I¡¯ve stolen Davis¡¯ Tinkerer power, but something else came with it. A piece of his personality. I drop his bloody corpse and carefully avoid the puddle formerly known as Jake. It is time to get out of here and seek medical attention before my adrenaline fades and I collapse. Thankfully, the Deckler mansion has high ceilings and was built sturdy enough that the foyer hasn¡¯t collapsed. I carefully step over my classmates¡¯ bodies and see Marcus. He¡¯s missing everything past his knees, but he''s alive. I pull my turtleneck down, showing the face of a concerned friend.

    ¡°Oh, thank God you¡¯re still alive, Marcus. We have to get out of here while we still can.¡± I offer him my hand, but he looks terrified, not relieved.

    "I know I look rough, but we gotta get you out of here. It''s not safe to stay."

    He scrambles backward using his elbows. My face relaxes, and my tone becomes neutral. ¡°Damn. You saw everything, huh? Then I can¡¯t let you live, buddy. Not when I finally found a way to feel. I¡¯ve already killed one person today; what¡¯s another?¡±

    ¡°Stop, Eryk, you don¡¯t have to do this. I won''t tell anyone, I swear,¡± he said.

    ¡°Buddy, you literally just showed me that you''re scared of me. And I¡¯m supposed to trust that you¡¯ll keep your mouth shut? You¡¯re the boy scout, Marcus. You¡¯ll tell someone eventually,¡± I said emotionlessly.

    Marcus¡¯ hands slip in some blood, and he falls to his back, whimpering. ¡°I¡¯ve heard people struggle with overwhelming grief, loss, and guilt when putting down their dog. I doubt I¡¯ll have that problem.¡±

    I won¡¯t be able to slit his throat as I did Davis. Marcus is typically stronger than me, and that¡¯s without me having these third-degree burns. I need to hurry; the smoke is making me lightheaded, and the fire has spread upstairs already. I¡¯m going to have to get creative. An idea comes to me quickly, and I return to the blazing room where I triggered. The fire is everywhere, but as long as I can survive getting out of here, the injuries won¡¯t matter. Searching the room for something I remember seeing earlier. There, off to the side against the wall, is the item. It¡¯s a fireplace tool set that¡¯s never been used until today. My body is still high on adrenaline, and I have so much nerve damage I can¡¯t even feel the heat anymore. I grab the poker and head back to Marcus.

    I find him crawling across the floor in the opposite direction I went. He¡¯s trying to escape and making great progress, leaving a bloody trail behind him. Unfortunately for him, he¡¯s not leaving here alive. Stopping by one of the many burning bodies to heat my poker. I wait until the warm glow of the metal becomes red-hot. I lose myself in the flames for a moment. When I look at Marcus, he¡¯s crawled another fifteen feet.

    He doesn¡¯t see me coming, so focused on his only chance at survival. Goodbye, Marcus. I plunge the poker through the nape of his neck and into his brain. I felt nothing for you in life, and I won''t feel anything for you now that you''re dead. A slight spasm, and then his body lies still. I pull the poker out and toss it off to the side¡ªtime to leave. The front door isn¡¯t an option; I need to find another way. I¡¯ll have to find a room with a window to escape. I make my way through the house quickly. My barely effective turtleneck mask does not entirely block out the smoke. I finally reach the dining room, a giant table in the middle with enough seats for twenty people and beautiful stained glass windows. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s quite beautiful when it isn¡¯t on fire.

    I grab a chair and smash it at the window with the last of my strength. It shatters outward, and smoke begins to escape out into the night. I continue to swing the chair, knocking out the remaining window pieces. Dizzy and lightheaded, I stumble to the opening. Using my last bit of energy, I fall out the window as my consciousness fades.

 Chapter 6 - Recovery

    I drift in and out of consciousness, never staying awake for more than a moment. When I finally wake up, I¡¯m floating inside a glass pod in a white room with an oxygen mask covering my entire face. It doesn¡¯t match my memory of the local hospital, St. Augustine. Where am I? A light flashes green above me, and the fluid drains out of the bottom of my pod. To my right, the wall slides open, revealing three people.

    I see two women in all-black tactical gear with the letters BNA emblazoned in gold on the chest piece. The woman on the left looks like she was ripped from a Viking tale. Deep red hair braided down her back and shaved on the sides with a draconic-looking serpent tattooed on her face. She dwarfs the other two by a wide margin, and she¡¯s built like a Norse God. Her partner is a petite black woman with short curls. Unlike her partner, she¡¯s wearing a helmet and holding an automatic rifle. Since they entered, she hasn¡¯t taken her finger off the trigger. She has deep frown lines and a scowl. The final member of the trio is a man in his late fifties. Bald but for a few wisps of hair lazily combed over. Thick-rimmed glasses and a white button shirt leading to brown pants held up by a belt. He wears a white lab coat over the rest of his outfit. Who are they?

    ¡°Good, you¡¯re awake. It was a bit touch and go there for a while. Oh, forgive my manners. I am Doctor Maximillian Sol. Just have to run a couple of tests, and then we¡¯ll get you out of here,¡± he said.

    My throat is so dry and sore. How long have I been here that it hurts to speak? I do a quick check, and I can still feel Davis¡¯ ability nestled inside me. After a coughing fit, I finally ask him where I am.

    ¡°You¡¯re in one of the BNA centers¡ªCodename Saturn, to be exact. Afraid I can¡¯t tell you where, though; it¡¯s top secret hush-hush,¡± he answered.

    ¡°Doctor. He¡¯s a civilian. You can¡¯t just share international secrets. The director was explicit about reminding you of that,¡± the shorter woman said.

    ¡°Relax, Agent Hale. I¡¯m just attempting to ease the tension in our patient. Have you never heard of bedside manners? Now, do you remember anything about what happened to you?¡± He asked me.

    The fog in my brain hasn¡¯t fully lifted yet, but I remember the party. I remember the smell of burning blood, cooked flesh, and acrid smoke. I remember my classmates¡¯ lifeless eyes, and I remember taking the lives of two of them. Davis¡¯ outburst caused my trigger event. I can feel his ability within me, locked away safely. Good, I¡¯ll need it going forward.

    ¡°Are you still with us, son? I¡¯m worried the patient may have brain damage.¡± Doctor Sol said.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, sorry¡ªjust a little groggy. I, I remember an attack at the party¡ªthe fire burning everywhere. I remember trying to find a way out to escape. I think I jumped out of a window and then nothing before waking up here,¡± I lied.

    Wait, what if they can tell when I lie? Damnit, I am not awake enough for this.

    ¡°Heart rate and brainwaves are stable. The Neuroscan shows no irregularities. All mental faculties look to be unharmed.¡± Agent Hale said.

    It''s good to know there¡¯s nothing wrong with my brain. I¡¯ve heard that too much smoke inhalation can lead to disastrous consequences. While I¡¯m here, I should fish for some information.

    ¡°Excuse me, but I have a couple of questions. The fire damaged my arms so badly, but they¡¯re back to normal now. How? And I went to the party with my friends and girlfriend, do you know what happened to them? Are they? Are they alive?¡±

    ¡°The answer to your first question is simple; I¡¯m a once-in-a-millennium genius. I created Liquid Lazarus, as you¡¯ve experienced firsthand. Any injury of the flesh may be healed, bringing even the most helpless back from the depths of hell. I have touched upon the realm of divinity, my boy.¡± He replied with a religious zeal to it.

    Wow, finding someone who¡¯s all fire and brimstone is rare these days. Formalized religions are on a decline since people started triggering, and you had people who could control the weather and lift cars. There are still people who believe, but it¡¯s far less common than it used to be. Whatever this Liquid Lazarus is, it clearly works. My body is completely healed, without any redness or scarring.

    ¡°You have something that can bring back someone from the brink of death? It could save so many lives; why haven¡¯t I heard about it before?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t widely available, is why. If a Neuvohuman didn¡¯t cause the wounds you sustained, you wouldn¡¯t have received the treatment. The BNA doesn¡¯t have the resources needed to make Liquid Lazarus universally accessible.¡± The doctor replied.

    ¡°In accordance with Section Four of the NeuvoHuman Accords, The BNA shall provide any and all victims of tragedies caused by Neuvohumans the highest level of Tinkertech care available.¡± Agent Hale added on.

    He is a Tinkerer. She may not have meant to, but she just confirmed it. If only there were a way to take his power, too.

    The power I gained at the party was well worth the third-degree burns and any scarring I got. However, a clean bill of health and becoming a Neuvohuman is a cherry on top. My triggering showed me my power but also showed me that it comes with a price. One that I am uniquely suited to pay. I can take Neuvohuman¡¯s abilities, but a part of them comes with it. In Davis¡¯ case, it was his fury, his raw rage. So far, it hasn¡¯t caused any issues, and truthfully, I¡¯m interested to see what it feels like when it happens. I finally have an emotion of my very own to experience. Even if I didn¡¯t feel any excitement from everything at the party, I found a reason to search for new powers to take.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure about any of your friends, but you¡¯re the last of the survivors to wake up. The others were released weeks ago. Agents Hale and Sigrid will handle getting you back. I have many other projects I must get to, so I¡¯ll be leaving you.¡± He said.

    Doctor Maximillian Sol leaves the same way he came in. My pod rinses me with water and then drains through a hole at the bottom. The glass slides into the floor. Now I¡¯m naked and alone with two terrifying-looking women. Agent Sigrid hands me a paper bag with a towel and some clothes. They both head outside my room to wait for me to change. I dry myself off and take a peek at the clothing. Grey sweatpants, a grey sweatshirt, grey boxers, and sneakers. Couldn¡¯t they swing for socks? Each item fits my body perfectly. Creepy.

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    I walk over to the wall, and it opens instantly. The hallway is the same clinical white as the room I came from. I see Agent Sigrid leaning against a support pillar while Hale stands ramrod straight. In her hands is a tablet, while her gun is hanging from a strap on her shoulder.

    ¡°Follow us, Eryk. We need to complete your exit interview, and then we¡¯ll get you the information about your friends,¡± Agent Hale commanded.

    ¡°Exit interview?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes. We need to get your statement and ask you a few questions,¡± Agent Hale answered.

    ¡°Um, why?¡± What is this about?

    ¡°You were part of a Neuvohuman attack; a crime occurred, and for that, we need your statement. Why, do you have something to hide?¡± She asked.

    I stop moving, halting in the middle of the hall. Do they know about what happened?

    ¡°Hah, Hale, I told you before. You do not have a face for jokes; you¡¯re too scary,¡± Agent Sigrid said.

    We continue down the hall, and I won¡¯t risk saying anything else until we reach our destination. The wall slides open, revealing an empty all-white room with a table, three chairs, and a camera set up facing the single chair.

    ¡°Take a seat on that side of the table, and we can begin,¡± Agent Hale said.

    I take my seat and start fidgeting around to seem anxious. Anxious but not guilty is what I want. The goal is to look restlessly overwhelmed by what is going on.

    ¡°State your name and age for the camera,¡± she said.

    Sigrid is leaning back in her chair, looking bored by everything going on. Hale is staring at me like she can read my soul.

    ¡°Eryk Richard Blakely, seventeen,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Don¡¯t look it,¡± Agent Sigrid said quietly.

    ¡°Tell us what happened at the party,¡± she commanded.

    ¡°I, along with my three friends and girlfriend, went to Jake Deckler¡¯s senior party. After a while, my girlfriend and I snuck off to the Deckler¡¯s cellar to be alone.¡±

    ¡°Makes sense you got a girlfriend with a body like that,¡± Sigrid said.

    ¡°AGENT SIGRID! That is incredibly inappropriate,¡± Agent Hale hissed.

    Is she hitting on me? Is this some sort of a variation of good cop/bad cop? She must be a Neuvohuman if they keep her around despite her rotten personality.

    ¡°Step outside, Helga, before you say something we¡¯ll all regret,¡± Hale said.

    Sigrid steps out, and the wall closes behind her.

    ¡°Please continue, Eryk; you said that you were partying on the second floor with your friend?¡±

    Ah, and that is the game we are playing.

    ¡°No, I was in the cellar with my girlfriend,¡± I replied.

    ¡°My mistake. Continue.¡± Hale said.

    ¡°We heard a loud noise, and my girlfriend said something about an earthquake. That¡¯s when I left her and went upstairs to investigate.¡±

    ¡°You left your girlfriend behind during a possible earthquake?¡± Hale asked.

    ¡°As I told her then, we don¡¯t get earthquakes on the east coast. And it¡¯s better to hunker down in the basement when there¡¯s a natural disaster, especially in New England.¡±

    ¡°Okay, and then what?¡±

    ¡°I heard screaming and could see fire. I ran toward the screaming, and a support beam fell on me, trapping me underneath. I struggled against it, and that¡¯s how I ended up with all the burns. Eventually, I was able to move the beam, and from there, I made my way toward a window in an attempt to get out. Then I woke up here,¡± I answered.

    ¡°You escaped without trying to find your friends or your girlfriend?¡± She asked.

    Let¡¯s turn the tables on her.

    ¡°I was scared,¡± I mumbled.

    ¡°What? Please speak up for the camera.¡±

    ¡°I was scared, okay? After that beam fell, I thought I was going to die and be cooked alive,¡± I said, looking down at the table. ¡°I¡¯m not proud of how I acted, and that¡¯s why I need to know what happened to them. Please, I need that they¡¯re okay and I didn¡¯t kill my friends.¡±

    Tears fall from my face as I cradle my head in my hands. Stifle the sniffling; make it look like you are doing your best to look brave. I don¡¯t look up; I need to really sell my performance. I hear the door open as Sigrid enters the room again. I hear footsteps getting closer to me, and then I feel a hand touch my shoulder. Surprisingly, it is Sigrid.

    ¡°We¡¯re done here, Hale. The kid¡¯s been through enough,¡± she said.

    I guess they are done playing games with me. I wipe my eyes on my sleeve and look at the two agents.

    ¡°Stand up, Mr. Blakely. We¡¯ll bring you to the desk and we can find out the status of your friends,¡± Hale said, shutting the camera off.

    Hale walks in front of me, and Sigrid follows behind. They are escorting me like a warden with a prisoner. Is this part of their training, or do they still not trust me? Sigrid is definitely a Neuvohuman, but her ability or abilities remain a mystery. There¡¯s only one way to find out, but I doubt she would sit still for the five minutes it would take. I don¡¯t know if taking a Neuvohuman¡¯s power hurts, and I can¡¯t ask Davis.

    ¡°Excuse me. The doctor said it¡¯d been weeks since the others woke up. What¡¯s today''s date?¡±

    ¡°June 15th. You were out for over a month, kid.¡± She said.

    Over a month? I underestimated how bad my injuries were. I missed graduation and my father¡¯s return. Losing a month is not great, but a plan has started forming in my brain. The only way to get more powers and emotions is to take them, and I doubt anyone would give them willingly. If that is the case, then I will just have to take them forcefully. I take a peak at the tablet in Hale¡¯s hands and see a headline from an article. New Farford Massacre: Ninety-seven casualties. That is a lot of dead kids. I do not recall seeing that many corpses; the rest probably perished in the fire. The tragedy should make one part of my plan easier.

    As we walk, I keep track of the route we take. You never know when it could come in handy. There aren¡¯t any noticeable differences in the architecture, so I can only memorize the directions we take. After fifteen minutes of twisting and turning, we reach an open room. There are more agents in tactical gear at each corner. In the center is a circular desk with over twenty computer terminals. Hale walks to one and begins typing. A few minutes later, she walks back to us with a paper in her hands.

    ¡°Here¡¯s a list of everyone found at that party. Names in green are alive, names in red-¡±

    The implication is obvious. I read through the list until I find my friends¡¯ names. Maria Estella, Aubrey Iskan, and Jean-Luc Dupont are all green. Davis Allen and Marcus Briggs are in red. Good, it would have been a problem if those two had been rescued. With Liquid Lazarus, they could have been saved. There are only four other names highlighted in green. One hundred and five teenagers went to that party, and only eight survived. Davis Allen, you have posthumously entered the Hall of Fame for mass murderers. I make my face light up as I trace my finger over the green names, silently counting down from ten when I get to Marcus¡¯ red name.

    This performance will need to be even greater. Breathe in, exhale. Repeat until tears form. Lightly whimper as you drop to your knees. Choke back the sobs to feign strength. Clutch the paper tightly and pound the ground with your free hand. Slowly wail out. ¡°NOOOOO.¡±

    Let the word fade out¡ªend scene. I¡¯m on my knees on the floor, hyperventilating.  Slowly, I force myself to stand up and put on a brave face. Appearing composed isn¡¯t as effective for manipulating people. They want to feel like they glimpsed past your facade and saw the truth.

    ¡°Losing a friend is a pain that no one should experience. The coming weeks will hurt. Don¡¯t be afraid to lean on friends and family,¡± Sigrid said.

    ¡°Time for you to go home. We¡¯ll lead you to the transport room.¡± Agent Hale said.

    Agent Sigrid did not follow behind this time. Instead, she strolls beside me in an attempt to reassure me. Her looks don¡¯t match her personality. They lead me through another set of hallways that look identical to the ones from earlier. We randomly stop, and the right side of the hallway slides open to reveal a raised platform in an otherwise empty room. As we enter, I spot a terminal on the side of the wall we came through.

    ¡°Step onto the platform. Fair warning, you will most likely get sick,¡± Hale said.

    ¡°Wait, what?¡±

 Chapter 7 - Going Home

    With a flash of light, I¡¯m on another raised platform in a forest. I don''t recognize any of the surrounding foliage. The BNA is far more dangerous than I had thought. They have access to teleportation and the only supply of that miracle mixture. Going forward, I¡¯ll have to consider that. Nothing looks familiar to me, so I can¡¯t be in New Farford. Do they know what I did? Was I sent here to die? My heart rate rises, and my head feels cloudy. They think they can fuck with me and get away with it? HOW DARE THEY? Why does my face feel so hot? Oh my god, this is rage. This is dangerous; I want to hit something so bad right now. Even knowing that this anger affecting me isn¡¯t my own does nothing to make it stop. How do people deal with this? My hands are clenched so hard my nails threaten to break the skin.

    ¡°Hello, Mr. Blakely. Are you ready to go home?¡±

    A man appears to my left. He wasn¡¯t there a second ago; I would¡¯ve noticed him. The sudden distraction does a lot to help dissipate my rage. He sticks out like a sore thumb with his pinstriped suit and sunglasses. Tan, rough skin, the look of someone who¡¯s had it rough. His voice is soft and kind¡ªa man of contrast and conflict. Is he here to kill me? A United Nations-funded assassin? Control yourself, don¡¯t let him see how mad you are.

    ¡°Oh, God. You scared the crap out of me. Where are we? Who are you? I thought I was going home.¡± I rambled off.

    ¡°Sorry about that. Right now, we¡¯re at one of the receivers for the BNA teleporters. I am Special Agent Waters, and I am your ticket home.¡± He answered.

    He avoids giving me any details without seeming like he¡¯s hiding anything. Interesting. This one¡¯s nothing like Agents Hale and Sigrid. He¡¯s dangerous and wary of me for some reason. They might have cleared me, but at least one person from the BNA thinks I¡¯m not telling the whole truth. I need to play this carefully and distance myself from the BNA.

    ¡°Can we go then? My dad must be worried sick about me.¡±

    ¡°Your father was given regular updates about your status and health. He knows you¡¯re coming back today. I already know the address we¡¯re going to, but I will need to touch you for my power to work.¡±

    He walks over and offers me his hand. As soon as I grasp it, the forest starts to spin. Faster and faster, until everything but the man and I blur. The greens and the browns blend until it hurts to look at anything but him. Is he a Mentalist attacking my mind? Suddenly the wind picks up and whips my hair wildly. And just as quickly as it starts, the wind stops, and our surroundings become clearer. When he releases my hand, we¡¯re both standing in my driveway.

    He¡¯s not a Mentalist. He¡¯s a Traveler¡ªteleportation, super speed, or maybe something else. I don¡¯t know why I¡¯m thinking about it. It¡¯s not the time for this, not yet, anyway. I thank the special agent and walk up the driveway to my front door. I reach for my keys and remember I¡¯m not wearing my clothes. A couple of knocks on the door, and I hear my father¡¯s muffled voice.

    ¡°Be there in a minute.¡±

    Exactly a minute goes by, and he opens the door. We stand there in silence until he reaches over and hugs me. Pulling me in close and he lets out a deep sigh.

    ¡°Thank God, Eryk. I thought I lost you like I lost your mom.¡±

    He weeps as he holds me. This is real, raw grief and sadness. I¡¯ve never witnessed my father cry before. A side of him I¡¯ve never seen, an intensity that¡¯s been absent for years. A glimpse into who Daniel Blakely used to be. I need to figure out how to react; I¡¯ve never been in this situation. Letting some tears fall, I break down with him. We lean into each other and share a tender moment of comfort. Ever the filial son.

    ¡°I¡¯m here, Dad. I¡¯m okay.¡±

    He wipes his face on his sleeve and looks me up and down. ¡°They told me you were unconscious and weren¡¯t sure when you would wake up. Come inside. We have a lot to talk about.¡±

    Daniel doesn¡¯t look too good. My extended hospital stay wasn¡¯t great for him; he¡¯s unshaven, gaunt, and has deep black circles under his eyes. If my nose isn¡¯t betraying me, he¡¯s been drinking again. Every time something goes wrong, he falls back into his self-destructive habits. He can¡¯t handle his problems without a bottle.  How can you be so pitiful? Relax; getting angry at him is counterproductive. The last thing I need is for him to make my hopefully brief stay even longer when Quinstin calls my name.

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    We walk into our living room, and he tells me he¡¯ll get us something to drink. He comes back with some coffee for himself and water for me. At least it isn¡¯t an Irish coffee, and maybe it¡¯ll help sober him up. Despite his haggard appearance, his eyes are lucid, and he looks happy. He leans back into the recliner, the tension slowly easing out of him. For a second, I thought he might fall asleep. Go on, Daniel, let us have a heart-to-heart.

    ¡°I¡¯m relieved, son. I¡¯m so happy you¡¯re awake. And back home safely. The tragedy you went through is something I can¡¯t even imagine. But if you need to talk, I¡¯m here. And If you don¡¯t want to talk to me, I can find the number for that therapist you saw when you were younger. Whatever you need, son, I¡¯m here for you. I¡¯ll call the firm later and finally use some of that PTO I¡¯ve saved up. I¡¯m not going anywhere for a while,¡± he said.

    ¡°Thank you, Dad, but I just need time alone to think before I can even start to process what happened. Everyone else has had weeks to grieve, but from my perspective, it all happened yesterday. All my classmates burned alive in front of me. Tortured by someone I know.¡± I fake a shutter to add some flair to my act.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even think about that. We¡¯ll get through this together, son. I haven¡¯t been the best dad or around all that often. I¡¯m going to make it up to you. Whatever it takes,¡± Daniel said.

    He gets up and heads upstairs to give me space. I sip at my water and bring it with me to the kitchen. A ziplock bag has my personal effects inside; my wallet, keys, and cell phone. My wallet and keys are both damaged from the fire, but luckily my phone is fine. I put my phone on the wireless charging station and go through my mail while I wait. Most of it is junk, but there¡¯s something from my school. Inside is my diploma and a letter informing me that the school board canceled graduation due to the tragedy. That¡¯s excellent news. I avoided a long and tedious ceremony with my classmates, at least those still alive.

    I toss the junk mail in the trash and move on to the final piece of mail. A black envelope addressed to my dad and me. A heartfelt note from Marcus¡¯ parents inviting us to his funeral is inside. The date is next Thursday, a private affair of close friends and relatives. Avoid one boring event just to get stuck at another. I¡¯ll have to contact his family before the funeral and help them find closure. Tell them how he died valiantly, fighting for his friends and defending others. I¡¯ll plan it out later on.

    A ding sounds out that my phone is back online. So many missed calls and texts from usually distant family and random classmates. The group chat is empty. Neither Aubrey nor Jean-Luc has said a word since the party. Still, I would¡¯ve expected one of them to reach out. Part of my plan requires Aubrey, so I¡¯ll have to message her later.

    I scroll through my contacts until I get to Maria and see she¡¯s been texting me daily. A constant stream of I love yous and that she misses me and hopes I get home soon. My friends and family can wait; Maria is the more pressing concern. I text her to tell her I¡¯m home and ask if she can come over. She immediately replies yes, followed by heart emojis. Now that that¡¯s resolved, I let Jean-Luc know I¡¯m back. I make plans to meet up Saturday, so I have a two-day reprieve to get situated. I''ll message Aubrey later. At some point, I need to figure out how badly Davis¡¯ rage is affecting me. It¡¯s not just anger, either. It¡¯s like a ticking time bomb inside of me. I have studied anger, and this is so much more than that. A stubbed toe or getting cut off in traffic could have me fly off the handle. It also brings into question whether the rage stays with me if the ability doesn¡¯t. There¡¯s no use thinking about all that right now. I head to my room to relax until Maria arrives. The moment my head touches my pillow, I feel sleep beckoning. I try to stay awake, but I fail.

    xx

    When I wake up slowly, it¡¯s apparent I¡¯m not alone. Maria¡¯s dainty hands wrapped around my chest, holding me tightly. I slowly remove her arms and slip out of bed. I place a pillow into her grasp, and she grips it like she¡¯s afraid it¡¯ll escape. She must¡¯ve missed me these past six weeks. Maria, you are nothing if not devoted to Eryk. The full moon shines like a beacon in the clear sky, with not a cloud in sight to block it.

    The clothes from the hospital are slick with sweat from sleeping in them. I¡¯m wide awake after my nap and could use a shower. I strip down to nothing and throw everything into the hamper. I turn the water pressure up until it stings, standing there unmoving. My thoughts go to the party, where everything changed for me. A windfall for me, and all it took was the deaths of ninety-seven teenagers. Before that night, Quinstin was my only chance to find something that excites me. Now I¡¯ve found a way to take what has always escaped me and the means to create the excitement I crave.

    All the steam has fogged up the mirror. The fan unit in the ceiling activates and quickly sucks up the mist. I stare at my reflection as it¡¯s slowly revealed; it looks like the Liquid Lazarus didn¡¯t erase my scar. A limitation of the mysterious miracle liquid, I guess it can¡¯t ¡°heal any injury of the flesh.¡± I wonder if the doctor knows that? His speech was just boastful grandstanding from a madman. But there¡¯s power in that, in people believing your words, a lesson I¡¯ll take with me to Quinstin.

    Of my two remaining friends, Jean-Luc wouldn¡¯t be a good fit for the first step in my plan. Aubrey will make a far better accomplice. I exit the bathroom naked and grab my phone off the floor. It reads two am, late, but there¡¯s a chance she¡¯s awake. One text to her that I¡¯m back and need to talk asap, and the following text to Jean-Luc asking him how he¡¯s holding up. Two minutes pass, and my phone vibrates with a message from Aubrey.

    (Aubrey): OMG. Im so happy ur bak. R u ok? Wuts wrong?

    A lot has happened, and I have some things I want to talk about. Are you free tomorrow?:(Eryk)

    (Aubrey): ofc, u kno imm here fr u. Anything u need? I¡¯m free allday.

    Sorry for waking you. I¡¯ll text you in the morning, and we can meet up.:(Eryk)

    (Aubrey): k nite.

    She¡¯s too sleepy to talk now. Tomorrow, after Maria leaves, we will have our conversation. I¡¯m too awake to go back to bed, so I¡¯ll exercise instead. I look thinner and want to build up any muscle mass I lost while stuck in that pod. We have a home gym in the basement. My caring father noticed my interest in exercising and got us all the equipment I could dream of; treadmills, an elliptical bike, a black punching bag, and a whole weight rack. I put my headphones into my ears and turn on some loud heavy music.

    Today will be lifting and cardio. Rep after rep, pushing myself to make it the entire hour I wanted. Only stopping when my arms sting and hang loose at my sides. Then an hour on the treadmill at the highest setting. Working out is easy; it¡¯s a matter of doing, not thinking. It can be challenging because I¡¯m prone to endless thought circles. I lose minutes, sometimes hours, to spiraling deeper into the confines of my mind. I assume there¡¯s a correlation between it and my peculiar emotional state. Even now, as my legs pound against the machine, sweating buckets, my body steaming, I overthink.

    People are creatures of patterns; therefore, predicting their actions should be easy. But emotions can make them irrational, make friends turn on each other, and make a woman murder her husband. I used to be separate from this group due to my nature; now, I¡¯ll have to make sure I remain in control. Someone once said every person is one bad day away from losing it. They were right. From what I¡¯ve witnessed through the years, Aubrey should follow my plan without much fuss. Marcus¡¯ death and the disaster at the party should make her even more willing to do it. After all, what Neuvohuman-obsessed person wouldn¡¯t want to gain superpowers?

 Chapter 8 - Manipulation

    In hindsight, working out for two and a half hours after not having solid food in weeks was a recipe for disaster. My breath reeks of vomit, and the workout has negated my earlier shower. Strands of sweat-soaked hair hang across my face; I should¡¯ve brought a hair elastic. I¡¯ll have to clean myself up before I meet up with Aubrey. I want to appear determined, not disheveled.

    After my second quick shower today, I change into jeans and a gray hoodie. I put my hair into a bun and check my phone. Aubrey texted me while I was working out. She¡¯s awake and available. Her mom¡¯s at work, so no one can eavesdrop on what we say. Maria is still fast asleep, so I leave her to slumber peacefully. Not waking her will be my first subtle sign that we are growing apart. Tiny little things will slowly widen the divide between us until she inevitably breaks up with me. It will be her idea, so she will be able to get over it quicker. The best part is I can feign depression and trauma from losing my good friend¡ªthe lovebirds who could not reconcile and get past a tragedy that rocked a small town.

    I step outside and feel the warmer air against my face. Pretty soon, I¡¯ll trade in the hoodie and jeans for tank tops and shorts. I peek at my phone, and it shows the time as seven-fifteen. My drive over to her house goes smoothly. The town is normally quiet around this time, but it¡¯s even more lifeless. New Farford will forever have a cloud that hangs over it. A miasma of sadness that won¡¯t dissipate for years. A town with less than four thousand population lost a whole generation of kids in one evening. Signs hang in windows with the names of those who have passed. Rest in peace; spray painted against brick buildings, and the people out tread around like zombies.

    There are so many emotions I have never been able to study¡ªnew facial expressions and gestures to learn. I can further tweak my mimicry because resting on my laurels now will only hurt me down the line. A professional who stops perfecting his craft is an idiot and an amateur, and I intend to be neither. Pretty soon, I might gather enough emotional pieces of people to make it genuine.

    I pull into Aubrey¡¯s driveway and let her know I¡¯m here. She gives me the go-ahead, and I head inside. The Iskan house is a pleasant two-bedroom. Aubrey¡¯s dad was never around, so her single mother raised her. The woman works double shifts as an ER nurse at St. Augustine. A thing Aubrey and I have in common is caring single parents who work endless hours to provide for their children. While my house is sterile, the Iskan house is the polar opposite: warm, inviting, and with a faint cinnamon scent. There are folded clean clothes on the couch, mail all over the kitchen table, and everything is slightly disorganized. It feels human in a way my home does not.

    While her house might look human, Aubrey Iskan does not. She hasn¡¯t taken Marcus¡¯ death well. Her usually well-kept hair is greasy and tangled. Without any makeup, I can see how little she¡¯s been taking care of herself¡ªa zombie wearing an oversized stained sweater and pajama pants. The look screams depression. I underestimated how far gone she would be. Am I going to have to give a pep talk? This might throw a wrench into my plan. Our eyes meet, and she starts ugly crying. I rush over and put my arms around her. She sobs into my chest while I hold her close. How many people will I be forced to comfort in the coming weeks?

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Aubrey. I¡¯m so sorry I wasn¡¯t there.¡±

    Unintelligible noises come out of her as she loudly sobs. She apologizes between breaths, hyperventilating as snot pours out of her. Her emotional outburst is messy, and at this rate, I¡¯ll be changing my clothes for the third time today.

    ¡°Shhhh. It¡¯s okay. I¡¯m here. I¡¯m back.¡±

    I pat her back, mimicking the action I¡¯ve seen in movies. Rub counterclockwise, firm but gentle, like a parent comforting their baby. I slowly move her over to the couch and sit down. It¡¯s awkward standing here while she gets all my clothes wet. She pushes me back, and her eyes are bloodshot from crying.

    ¡°I thought you were dead. I thought you were gone like-¡± Aubrey doesn¡¯t finish her sentence, but the meaning is implied. She¡¯s avoiding saying the name Marcus, our friend for over a decade, whose life I snuffed out. A shudder goes through her, and she looks at me for answers.

    ¡°I¡¯m not. I¡¯m alive. I¡¯m right here, and everything is okay. You¡¯re alive. Jean-Luc is alive. Maria is alive; we¡¯re all ali-,¡± I cut off my sentence before saying his name.

    ¡°SAY IT! SAY HIS FUCKING NAME!¡± She screamed at me.

    ¡°Marcus,¡± I whispered.

    ¡°Everyone avoids it, saying his name. My mom, Jean-Luc, hell, even I do; it¡¯s too painful to say. It¡¯s not fair, Eryk. Why did we survive and Marcus died? WHY?¡± Her voice is harsh and raw with sadness.

    She is so upset by this. Did I misjudge how close the two of them were? I need to get her to relax. I can already tell this situation will test my ability to stay calm. If I freak out, it will ruin any hope of my pitch working.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. None of this makes sense.¡±

    ¡°Did you know they couldn¡¯t recover the bodies? By the time the firefighters and the BNA arrived, the whole place collapsed on itself. The fire was so out of control that they fucking let it burn out so it wouldn¡¯t spread to the forest. All of our classmates are fucking ash in the wind. And the worst part? The one who did it isn¡¯t even here to pay for his fucking crimes. I¡¯m tired of feeling sad, Eryk, and that¡¯s not even what I feel the most. I¡¯m so goddamn angry, Eryk, at myself, at Davis, at the BNA. And it has nowhere to go.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t say I know what you¡¯re going through because, from my perspective, it happened last night. All of this is still so fresh, and I haven¡¯t had any time to think. But there¡¯s something I have thought about; someone should''ve helped Davis or stopped Jake before it got this bad. I¡¯m always so flighty that I didn¡¯t even notice our classmate being bullied. I feel like this whole thing is partly my fault. If I had done something, anything, then maybe he¡¯d still be here. I feel like I¡¯m the reason he¡¯s gone.¡± Tears begin to fall from my eyes as I look at her.

    ¡°What? Eryk, it is NOT your fault that Marcus is dead. There¡¯s nothing you could have done. There¡¯s nothing any of us could have done. The only thing that can stop a Cowl is a BNA task force or a Cape. And last time I checked, there weren¡¯t any Capes at the party. One day, I¡¯ll be able to make a difference, even if I have to wait years to join,¡± she said.

    I quickly wipe my face on my sleeve and take her hands in mine. Strike now while the iron is hot.

    ¡°What if you didn¡¯t have to wait?¡±

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Eryk, I know you don¡¯t care about Neuvohumans, but you need at least a bachelor¡¯s degree to join the BNA.¡±

    I put on the most determined face I can create. ¡°No, I know that. I¡¯m not talking about the BNA; I¡¯m talking about joining the ranks of Capes.¡±

    There¡¯s a look on her face that¡¯s a cross between suspicion and intrigue. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen it before. It slowly forms into a frown before she shakes her head.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a Neuvohuman, and I don¡¯t have any powers. You can¡¯t be a Cape without an ability.¡±

    ¡°Correct, but something happened at the party, Aubrey.¡± I look down at my lap.

    ¡°What happened?¡± She asked.

    ¡°I- I don¡¯t want you to hate me.¡±

    ¡°Eryk, I could never hate you. Me, you, Jean-Luc, Mar-¡± She hesitates briefly. ¡°We¡¯re best friends, and nothing could ever make me hate you.¡±

    Good, she is finally something other than upset. I highly doubt you would say that if you knew that I pierced Marcus¡¯ skull with a fire poker. Regardless the conversation is within my estimations again. Everything is going well, and Aubrey is reacting how I thought she would. Now is the moment of truth, and it all starts with a deep breath.

    ¡°At the party, I got trapped in a room engulfed in flames. No way out, and slowly burning alive, a miracle happened.¡±

    Pause for dramatic effect, just long enough to pique her interest.

    ¡°Wait. Are you saying¡­¡± She let the unsaid question linger.

    ¡°Yeah. I triggered that night.¡±

    Her eyes go wide at my words. Easy to read, emotions play across her face: worry, confusion, excitement, and envy. ¡°You¡¯re a Neuvohuman? Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. YOU¡¯RE A NEUVOHUMAN?¡±

    I let out a laugh at her exclamation. Laughing has always been one of the easiest things to mimic. For the first time since my arrival, she looks happy. Aubrey is in the palm of my hand. Our loud laughter continues for a while, and when we stop, I deliver the killing blow.

    ¡°Yes, I am. My ability is somewhat weird. I don¡¯t fully understand it.¡±

    ¡°What type is your ability? Manipulator? Traveler? Or something more unique? What is it? Tell meeeee.¡± She pleaded.

    ¡°I¡¯m not too sure. I haven¡¯t done much research into powers, but I think I classify as a Neutralizer and a Manipulator,¡± I said.

    I thought long and hard about what to tell Aubrey about my ability or, rather, abilities. I saw online that most Neuvohumans choose not to talk about their trigger event. I¡¯m making a gamble that Aubrey doesn¡¯t know how awakening an ability works. Even with my exceptional memory, I still adhere to the advice that the more in line a lie is with the truth, the easier it is to keep track of it. So, I¡¯ll fudge the details and keep my cards close to the vest.

    ¡°Not only do you get an ability, but it¡¯s one of the rarest categories. Life is unfair. Ahhhh, I¡¯m jealous. Do you know every kid dreams of being a Cape? Well, except you. And then you¡¯re the one who becomes one. It¡¯s almost enough to make me laugh. So, spit it out. What¡¯s your power?¡±

    ¡°Somehow, I absorbed Davis Allen¡¯s ability. I realized I had it within myself when I woke up in the hospital.¡± I answered.

    ¡°You have his power; you¡¯re a Tinkerer?¡± Aubrey asked.

    ¡°Yes, and also no. I have Davis¡¯ Tinkerer ability, but I can¡¯t use it. And before you ask, I have no idea how I got it.¡±

    ¡°So you can steal other people¡¯s abilities? A permanent Neutralizer is unheard of, or maybe it only triggers upon death. Most Neutralizers have a condition. Is yours to be near them when they die? Or maybe it just requires them to be unconscious.¡± Aubrey started mumbling to herself, forgetting I was here.

    ¡°Aubrey.¡±

    ¡°Will the ability go away after a specific period of time? What¡¯s the range required for you to get it? Can you only hold one at a time? Or perhaps there¡¯s a fixed amount of powers you can hold?¡±

    ¡°Aubrey,¡± I said again.

    ¡°Is it three, five, maybe a prime number? Or it could be an even number. What happens when you have more than you can hold? Does it replace the most recently acquired power or the oldest?¡± She continues to ignore me.

    ¡°Aubrey. Aubrey. AUBREY!¡± I am finally forced to scream just to get her attention.

    She needs to start fucking listening better. Or I will make her start fucking listening. Stop. This is not your anger. Do not let a dead kid¡¯s tantrum control you.

    ¡°What? Why are you yelling at me?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Because, Aubrey, you haven¡¯t even let me finish. There¡¯s a second aspect to my power. The reason I¡¯m telling you any of this instead of keeping it to myself. Aubrey, I can give you Davis Allen¡¯s ability. I can make you a Cape.¡±

    The silence that follows confuses me. Based on Aubrey¡¯s personality, goals, and background, she should jump at the chance to become a Cape. Did I make a mistake? Should I have chosen Jean-Luc? His personality isn¡¯t right for what will follow, but that is what I will have to do if she says no. That and I would have to kill her, too. It would be a shame to have to kill another friend. Finally, after what feels like twenty minutes of quiet, she speaks.

    ¡°YES. Yes, times a thousand. Eryk, this is what I¡¯ve always dreamed of. Whatever I have to do, I¡¯ll do it. All I¡¯ve ever wanted to do is fight crime, and you¡¯re giving me a chance to do it as a Cape? This is my chance to make sure that nothing like that party ever happens to another person. I don¡¯t want anyone to deal with what we went through. I¡¯ll do whatever it takes to make that a reality,¡± she said harshly.

    There¡¯s conviction in her eyes, a deadly seriousness that wasn¡¯t there before. She means every word she just said. Right now, she will accept anything I say; I¡¯ve succeeded. The first step has gone swimmingly. I grasp her hand and hold it tight.

    ¡°All you need to do is hold my hand. This will be my first time trying this, so I don¡¯t know if there will be any side effects. Are you sure you want to do this?¡±

    I am unsure if Davis¡¯ rage will transfer over with the ability. If it does, I lose a source of emotion, however troubling. It might cause her to spiral further into her negative feelings. I feel the Tinkerer ability stir within me as I slowly send it to Aubrey. I count the three hundred seconds in my head until the ability entirely passes to her. For a moment, nothing happens, and Aubrey looks confused. That lasts until her eyes roll into the back of her head, and she falls over on the couch. My power doesn¡¯t cause any damage, but it does need to impart the knowledge of the ability. Which, unfortunately, seems to have caused her to faint. I can no longer feel Davis¡¯ power or the other piece that came with it. Instead, I can sense it from within Aubrey.

    I get up from the couch and head to her kitchen to grab two water bottles. She¡¯ll be thirsty, and there¡¯s no telling how long I¡¯ll have to wait. Even in the other room, I still feel the power from here. It¡¯s odd to walk around someone¡¯s house without them. I¡¯ve been here hundreds of times, but the eerie quiet doesn¡¯t belong here. This place is filled with memories of the four of us growing up together. The kitchen table where Marcus told us he¡¯d never get to play again and his dream was dead. The prom photo we took as a group sits on top of the fridge next to knick-knacks Aubrey¡¯s mom has collected. Four chairs are at the table, one has shorter legs, and we always argued about who had to sit in the ¡°bitch seat.¡± I continue down memory lane for a few hours until I hear Aubrey stirring from the other room. She blinks open her eyes as I enter the room. Will she be aware of the part of Davis that¡¯s now inside her? I¡¯ll have to spin this like I didn¡¯t know.

    ¡°I¡¯m a Cape now. It worked¡­¡±

    ¡°How are you feeling? Any strange sensations or feelings?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m thirsty as shit, actually,¡± she said while laughing.

    ¡°And the Tinkerer power?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to explain. It¡¯s like my head is filled with ideas and full of knowledge I shouldn¡¯t have. Other than that, I¡¯m fine, and it worked. I won¡¯t forget what you¡¯ve given me.¡± Aubrey said.

 Chapter 9 - Burdens of a Parent

    Two days have passed since I met with Aubrey. I told her to get a feel for her new ability and to let me know if there were any side effects. Regardless of the hassle, I think I miss having that fury inside me. In the meantime, I had lunch with Jean-Luc and spent more time with my father. Today is special because today I¡¯m going to see Marcus¡¯ parents. It¡¯s going to be a hassle, but it¡¯s necessary.

    I¡¯ve workshopped what I¡¯ll tell them multiple times but have settled on a tale of heroics. I pull into their driveway and immediately notice the dead lawn. Marcus¡¯ father loves his yard and can be seen every Sunday working on it for hours. He waters it and keeps it clean, cut, and beautiful. Now it''s arid, and the grass has turned brown. There are trash and beer bottles all over. The large windows that dot the brownstone are shut and the blinds are drawn. Today is warm and humid, but I can¡¯t hear the hum of their AC unit. What has become of your parents, Marcus? I ring the doorbell and wait for someone to answer.

    Marcus¡¯s father answers the door. Jeff Briggs is a mountain of a man, built like a linebacker and taller than me by several inches. With thick arms and a barrel chest, the man is a gorilla. He looks like an older, more physically imposing Marcus. Or he usually does. Now the man looks diminutive despite our size difference. Messy stubble covers his face, and his normally combed hair is in disarray. He has on stained sweatpants and a wifebeater. The overwhelming stench of beer covers up the smell of B.O. He isn¡¯t handling Marcus¡¯ death well.

    ¡°Hi, Mr. Briggs. Do you mind if I come in?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Fine,¡± he grunted.

    I follow him inside, and immediately something surprises me; the inside is spotless. The outside is a mess, but everything inside is a shining beacon of cleanliness. I watch Jeff walk over and plop down on his recliner, facing a black screen. The tray table to his right has a pyramid of beer cans stacked on top of it. I walk past him towards the kitchen, where I can hear whistling. Marcus¡¯ mother, Cheryl, is the source of noise, and she is a stark contrast to her husband. Cheryl is a plump, friendly woman who¡¯s never met someone she didn¡¯t love. She makes everyone call her mom and would move heaven and earth for her ¡°kids.¡± I expected her to be in a similar state as Jeff, but she¡¯s whistling while baking. Her brown curls are immaculately done, and she¡¯s stirring a bowl of brownie mix. Either she is more adept at faking emotions than I am, or she¡¯s handling the loss of her son terrifically.

    ¡°Oh, Eryk, sweetie. We were so happy to hear you had gotten out of the hospital. Isn¡¯t that right, Jeff? She asked.

    A long, awkward silence follows as Jeff doesn¡¯t answer. A slight twitch in Cheryl¡¯s eye is the only sign that the silence agitates her. She continues mixing the bowl, putting a finger in it to taste the batter. Her face scrunches up, and she mutters something about needing salt.

    ¡°Mrs. Briggs, can we talk?¡±

    ¡°Of course, hun,¡± she said.

    She doesn¡¯t stop moving at her brisk pace, continuously dancing around me like an actor in a musical. Maybe she just didn¡¯t love her son. It does not matter. I need to maintain my role and finish what I¡¯ve started. I fake a cough to clear my throat. She catches my hint and finally stops moving.

    ¡°Well, what brings you here?¡± She asked.

    ¡°I was there at the end,¡± I said.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    ¡°What do you mean, hun?¡± Mrs. Briggs asked.

    ¡°I was with him. When it all happened, I mean.¡± I said while looking down.

    She puts the bowl she was holding down. Her shoulders are quivering, and her breathing is unsteady.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go to the living room. Jeff should hear this as well.¡±

    I follow her to the living room, where she sits on the couch. I take a seat across from her on their second recliner. Jeff is to my right and doesn¡¯t even seem to have noticed the two of us. The man I have known my whole life is gone. All that is left is a shell of a human. He¡¯s reminiscent of my own father.

    ¡°Jeff, honey. Honey. Honey!¡± She finally yells to get Jeff to notice us. He grunts in response, and he sits up to look at me.

    I fidget with my hands, smoothing my shirt out. It is best to appear nervous and uncertain, like someone with uncomfortable news to share. I am trying to awaken their parental instincts and generate sympathy.

    ¡°The night of the party. I was there when that demon attacked. I was with Marcus.¡± I let the unspoken words float through the room. Cheryl¡¯s plastered smile falters for a moment. Jeff¡¯s eyes seem to regain lucidity. Finally, I have my captive audience. They both stare at me expectantly. Tears begin to fall slowly down my face.

    ¡°What happened to my boy? What happened to Marcus?¡± Jeff asked.

    ¡°They couldn¡¯t recover his body. The BNA told us they¡¯re still investigating and don¡¯t have answers. Please, Eryk, anything you can tell us would be a godsend.¡± Cheryl said.

    My performance has broken them out of their respective ruts. Don¡¯t worry, Marcus. I won¡¯t let your parents'' woes go unanswered. I¡¯ll give them closure. I¡¯ll free them from their torment. Even devoid of human connection, I am not a monster.

    ¡°It was Neuvohuman that attacked the party. It was one of our classmates who did all this,¡± I said softly.

    ¡°We saw the news that it was a Cowl, but you¡¯re telling me it was one of you kids that did all this?¡± Mrs. Briggs asked.

    ¡°Davis Allen is, sorry, was his name. He wasn¡¯t popular, and a few people bullied him. I guess he had a hard home life, and when he triggered, he decided to take out his rage on everyone else around him,¡± I said.

    ¡°What about my boy?¡± Jeff asked.

    ¡°When Davis attacked the party, he trapped a bunch of us in a room with him. It was horrible, the things he did. Your son, my friend, died trying to protect everyone,¡± I said.

    Jeff and Cheryl¡¯s eyes light up at my words. ¡°What? Explain, please,¡± Jeff pleaded.

    ¡°While Davis was torturing and killing people, Marcus realized that none of us would get out of there alive. He waited for the perfect moment, and he tackled Davis. That caused Davis to lose control, which is why the fire got so bad. The resulting chaos is how I escaped. If it weren¡¯t for Marcus, none of us would have survived.¡±

    The two adults sit quietly, not reacting. Was my speech unbelievable? Do they suspect me of lying? My doubts prove unfounded as Jeff smiles proudly. Cheryl erupts into tears causing Jeff to get up and hug his wife. The two embrace each other for the first time since I got here, maybe the first time in weeks. Jeff¡¯s shoulder mutes her sobs, and I get up to leave. My work is done here, a farewell gift for a boy who called me a friend. Jeff notices my exit and mouths thank you to me.

    I start my truck and prepare for the drive home¡ª I have texts from Aubrey, Jean-Luc, and Maria. My girlfriend keeps trying to make plans with me, and I¡¯ve flaked every time. Unfortunately, she doesn¡¯t have it in her to just show up at my house and call me out. She has never even raised her voice in the two years we''ve dated. I respond to Jean-Luc about when I¡¯m arriving tomorrow and let Aubrey know we can begin experimenting once the Marcus thing is over. I leave Maria¡¯s message on read.

 Chapter 10 - The Funeral

    Today¡¯s the day of Marcus¡¯ funeral. His is the latest, but not the last¡ªthe near-endless list of dead kids causing a town to be stuck in a gruesome loop. The only family that has a reason to celebrate is the Williams. They own the only funeral home and are working overtime to coordinate every single last rite in town. Today will be a valuable learning experience about etiquette for these kinds of events. The only other funeral I¡¯d ever been to was my mother''s, but I was too young to remember it. I didn¡¯t cry, but I kept my face neutral and melancholic. Marcus¡¯ funeral will be the only one I will attend; I kept to my group and didn¡¯t interact with other cliques much.

    Daniel and I arrive early. He hasn¡¯t let me out of sight today and is circling me. Losing someone I was close with won¡¯t break me; I¡¯m not you. Maria¡¯s SUV is sitting in the parking lot. I¡¯m not surprised to see her here after ignoring her and leaving her asleep in my room. Maria was never really a part of our four-person friend group, more like a plus one attached to me. None of them dislike her, but I believe they think of her as my girlfriend, not one of us. She and Marcus got along fine, but I don¡¯t know if she¡¯s here for him or to corner me.

    I¡¯m wearing the face I practiced last night for hours. The trick is to react lethargically to things and pretend that your cheeks weigh a ton. So if someone tries to tell a joke to cheer you up, you pause before faking a chuckle. I¡¯m wearing a black suit with a dark purple tie Maria bought me for our junior prom. As she exits her vehicle, I see she¡¯s coordinated her outfit to match with me. Maria¡¯s wearing a modest black dress and a shawl the same color as my tie. She has nicer or more flattering dresses she could¡¯ve worn but chose not to; I would know I bought them for her. Bravo, my dear Maria. Now it looks like we did this intentionally and presented as a united happy couple. She comes right up to me and hugs me. I can¡¯t rebuke her here because it will cause a scene.

    ¡°I¡¯m here for you,¡± Maria said.

    ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll need it, especially today.¡±

    I keep my eyes closed and slow my breathing. Today I have to act upset. Be withdrawn and find a point to cry silently. She releases me from her grasp to say hello to my father. Before I can take a step, she interlocks our hands. I doubt she¡¯ll let me go even if the place goes up in smoke.

    ¡°Everybody else is inside. I waited for you two to get here before going in.¡±

    ¡°I hope we aren¡¯t late. I could¡¯ve sworn that we weren¡¯t starting til two,¡± Daniel said.

    ¡°No, you made it in time. Everyone else is just early,¡± Maria said reassuringly.

    I decided before we left that I¡¯d be solemn and reserved. Practicing so late gave me some bags under my eyes, making my act even more believable. Not that anyone would have any reason to suspect I¡¯m faking it. The Williams Memoritorium is a white granite building with four large pillars supporting the overhanging roof above the entrance. We enter, and the atmosphere of the room is heavy. Faint organ music plays in the background and the air smells of cotton balls and lemony cleaning products. Plush velvet carpet covers the floor, and the lights'' soft glow gives the room an eerie quality. Flashes of childhood memories of my mother¡¯s funeral come flooding back to me; relatives and neighbors repeating the same phrases about their condolences and how young I am to be motherless. These memories might bring me to tears if I wasn¡¯t the way I am.

    Jean-Luc and Aubrey stand off to the side while the adults all talk. There are many people I don¡¯t recognize, most likely Marcus¡¯ extended family members. The adults I do know are everyone¡¯s parents. The Duponts fled Paris due to a Neuvohuman terrorist attack and are trying to share coping mechanisms with Marcus¡¯ parents. Aubrey¡¯s mother attempts to console them, but nothing hurts quite like losing a child. My parent heads over to join them while Maria and I approach my friends. Gone is the flamboyance and style they both usually have. Muted greys replace it. In fact, Maria and I are the only ones with any color. Sensing my mood, Maria takes the lead.

    ¡°Hey, how are you guys holding up?¡± She asked.

    Her question startles Jean-Luc, but Aubrey tenses in anger for a brief moment. You¡¯re so angry, Aubrey, at everyone and everything. After seeing it¡¯s just us, they relax and try their best to smile. One single action of mine has changed so many lives forever. It reminds me of exploring outside as a kid and finding a spider¡¯s web. Sometimes pulling on a single string will snap it, and other times it can cause the whole web to break. I won¡¯t be here to see which one Marcus¡¯ death becomes.

    ¡°Not well. Something about being here today is making it all¡­real in a way it wasn¡¯t before. Marcus is truly gone,¡± Jean-Luc said.

    ¡°He¡¯s gone but not forgotten. Marcus lives on inside all of us,¡± I said.

    ¡°You¡¯re right. And I¡¯ll spend the rest of my life doing everything I can to honor him,¡± Aubrey added.

    ¡°Yeah, and you guys still have each other.¡±

    As soon as Maria finishes her sentence, Aubrey freezes and looks at her. Aubrey is a giant ball of tension, homing in on Maria as an outlet. It makes sense. She¡¯s the ¡°outsider¡± as opposed to everyone else here. Still, there¡¯s never been any problems between the two, at least that I know of.

    ¡°Is that meant to make us feel better?¡± Aubrey is on the warpath. The signs of impending conflict require my intervention, so I pull my hand out of Marias and grab Aubrey in a one-armed bear hug. My other arm stretches out and pulls Jean-Luc over.

    ¡°I know today¡¯s tough, but don¡¯t let it get the best of you. We¡¯ll get through this.¡±

    They both embrace the group hug, and Maria stands awkwardly on the side. Aubrey is too volatile currently, and Maria is making it worse. Getting through today is going to be annoying. Loud sobbing breaks up my thoughts, and Cheryl wails as her husband holds her. Thank you for the distraction, Cheryl. What a fantastic segue you¡¯ve given me. The group hug ceases as we all look over at the emotional scene.

    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine what the Briggs are going through,¡± I said.

    ¡°My mom¡¯s been stopping by their house on her way to work, and they''ve gotten a lot better recently,¡± Aubrey said.

    My lie helped a lot more than I thought.

    ¡°While you were gone, Eryk, they didn¡¯t even leave their house. All of our parents, including your dad, brought groceries and meals over. They wouldn¡¯t even come to the door for like two weeks,¡± Jean-Luc said.

    ¡°I had no idea. My dad never said anything. I visited them a couple of days ago. We talked about the party and Marcus for a while,¡± I said.

    ¡°That was nice of you, Eryk. I¡¯ve done my best not to think about the party at all. It¡¯s too hard for me,¡± Jean-Luc responded.

    Maria stays silent during the exchange, but her hand has rewrapped itself with mine. As we¡¯re talking, in walks the funeral director Mr. Williams. He¡¯s old, but time has been kind to him. His hair is salt and pepper, and he has a simple, thin mustache. Marcus¡¯ family aren¡¯t religious, so the funeral will be more of a formal grieving party than a full ceremony. Mr. Williams leads everyone into a room where the actual services will happen. We all sit down on long wooden benches facing the front of the room, where a casket is on a raised platform. We''re having a closed-casket funeral because the BNA couldn¡¯t recover Marcus¡¯ body. Maria is on my right, Jean-Luc is on my left, with Aubrey on his other side.

    ¡°Today, we gather to mourn the loss of a child, friend, and son of the community. But we also gather to celebrate someone precious to all in attendance. Marcus Edward Briggs was a young man on the cusp of adulthood, and he was taken from us too early, like so many others. This pain is fresh and potent but, with time, will fade. I ask of you not to let his memory fade. Ernest Hemingway once said that every man has two deaths: when he is buried in the ground and the last time someone says his name. I¡¯d like everyone to stay silent for a moment and think of him and the times you shared,¡± Mr. Williams said.

    Everyone¡¯s eyes close as they each reminisce about Marcus. My own thoughts drift through our adventures as kids. The first time I saw him, and mistook him for an ignorant jock type. My initial hypothesis proved false, and he turned out to be a genuine, wholesome individual. I may have never felt anything toward him, but he was an objective force of good in people¡¯s lives. As we grew older and our group of four became inseparable, his presence was so dynamic among us. Marcus was the one who first noted my lack of romantic pursuits and questioned my sexuality. I do not doubt that if I had proved to be homosexual, his opinion of me wouldn¡¯t have changed. I don¡¯t regret my actions; his death was necessary. His death woes don¡¯t haunt me, and his blood doesn¡¯t stain my soul. Maria squeezes my hand, and I open my eyes to see Jeff Briggs on stage talking. He¡¯s cleaned himself up since I saw him, and his eyes aren¡¯t hollow anymore. Cheryl is standing at his side, ready to support him.

    ¡°My boy, Marcus, means¡­meant the world to me. He was so good in a way few men are. My wife, Cheryl, and I will never get to experience helping on move-in day at college. We¡¯ll never get to see him graduate or get married. We will never have grandchildren to spoil or get to see the man he would¡¯ve become. He knew we loved him, but there were so many things I wished I¡¯d said. Like, does he know how proud we were? That, despite his injury, he never gave up hope. That he was kind and gentle and loved everyone and never hurt a soul, so why did he have to die? I know it¡¯s selfish to say, but I wish he hadn¡¯t tried to be a hero. I¡¯d give up everything I own to bring him back. There is a hole in my heart that was ripped out of me. A parent shouldn''t have to outlive their child, and I will carry this pain until the day I die. Marcus was the best thing I¡¯ve ever had a hand in. Every father hopes to raise a son who¡¯s a better man than yourself, and damn it; I know I did. He was a light in our lives, and things are so dark without him. I love my son and-.¡±

    The mountain of a man is shaking as tears pour out of him. His wife holds him as he shakes with grief. Looking around, I see there isn¡¯t a dry eye in the place, so I force a couple of tears out. Only a couple, though, don¡¯t want to upstage the grieving father during his monologue. Maria¡¯s head is resting on my shoulder and squeezing my hand. How very perceptive and supportive of you. It¡¯s not needed, regardless of how sad I may look. I¡¯m fascinated by Jeff¡¯s display and trying to etch into my brain. His emotions are even more potent and raw than I¡¯ve ever seen. It¡¯s a wonderful learning moment, making me reevaluate my notions of sadness. Compared to him, my own performance at the hospital was amateurish and flat. To think that a single choice of mine can elicit such a powerful reaction. I wonder how many people I¡¯ll affect before I¡¯m done. Cheryl escorts her blubbering husband to their seats, and Mr. Williams asks if anyone else would like to speak.

    Nobody seems to want to follow what we just witnessed. Cheryl turns around to look at our row, and her eyes focus on me. She¡¯s sending me a pleading glance, but I¡¯m unsure why. Cheryl waves me over, so I get up from my seat and walk over to her. Does she want me to tell everyone my story?

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°Eryk, dear, it would mean a lot for you to speak. About Marcus¡¯ last moments, we¡¯d appreciate it. My husband needs me, or I¡¯d go next,¡± she said quietly.

    I wipe my face and agree. I¡¯ll start with an anecdote, something funny to lighten the mood. Then transition into a harrowing tale of death and heroism. Should I also break down and cry at the end? I won¡¯t. It would be too similar to Jeff¡¯s speech. Every moment of study and experience will culminate in this. I center myself and take a deep breath as I approach the microphone. Scratch the back of my head, then cough a little bit. It makes me look nervous and anxious. Don¡¯t forget to take pauses. I¡¯m a high schooler, not a media-trained politician. I tap the mic and begin.

    ¡°Marcus was the first friend I ever made. Then came Aubrey and Jean-Luc, but for a bit, it was just me and him. Maybe that¡¯s why I feel so lost lately. One of my earliest memories is when Marcus and I dared each other to race down the hill on Letterman Way. We were nine, and Marcus had just gotten a new bike for his birthday. So we decided to see who was faster. Well, Marcus wasn¡¯t used to his new bike and ended up hitting a rock that launched him onto the road, and his bike ended up crashing into a tree at full speed. After I made sure my friend was okay, we went to look for his present, and we found it mangled. He was so afraid he convinced me to help him sneak into his dad¡¯s toolbox to fix it. Surprisingly two nine-year-olds don¡¯t know anything about how to fix stuff. When Mr. Briggs heard the commotion from the garage, he came rushing in, asking what was going on. And you have Marcus and me standing there, tools all over the ground, broken bike behind us, and he says definitely not hiding something. Mr. Briggs doesn¡¯t say anything at first before he bursts out laughing at how bad of a lie that was. That story really shows what I think was his best quality; his purity. Marcus was just a great guy. He didn¡¯t like lying, probably because he was bad at it, but also because he understood how much it hurts people. Marcus was honestly one of the nicest people I¡¯ve ever known and the type of person who makes you want to be the best version of yourself. And I will because he saved my life.¡± Wait a moment for the words to sink in. Let it permeate the room.

    ¡°As you all know, I got hurt badly at the party. I woke from a five-week coma to find out my first friend was dead. And for everyone here, Marcus passed over a month and a half ago, but for me, it¡¯s like it was yesterday. When Davis attacked, everyone was so frightened, me included. But Marcus stayed calm and brave despite everything. As things started to spiral out of control, Marcus whispered to me that he had a plan. I told him he was crazy and that we just needed to wait for the cops to show up. Marcus disagreed. Somehow, he knew that we didn¡¯t have the time to wait, and that¡¯s when he did it. While Davis¡¯ back was turned, Marcus struck. Like a soldier in battle, he charged right up and tackled him. He fought Davis to try and buy the rest of us a window to escape. That¡¯s why I know without a doubt that I would¡¯ve died if not for him. Marcus was my first friend, and he saved my life; I will never be able to repay that debt to him,¡± I said before quickly walking off stage.

    Jean-Luc and Aubrey are staring at me as I sit back down. Both of them weren¡¯t around, so they had no idea that any of that happened. Also, it didn¡¯t happen, but it fits his character so well that they won¡¯t question it. As I sit down, Maria whispers in my ear, her breath tickling my neck.

    ¡°That was a sweet thing to do for them. I love you.¡±

    What does that mean? Before I can whisper back, one of Marcus¡¯ relatives gets up to speak, and my chance is lost to ask her what she means. Does she just mean that it was a good eulogy or something else? The language she chose is throwing me off. Why phrase it like that? It can wait. The rest of the funeral is pretty mundane as family and friends each take turns saying a couple of things about the deceased. I¡¯m exhausted by the end of it, and thankfully there isn¡¯t an afterparty planned. I don¡¯t know if I could handle it after sitting still for nearly two hours listening to people repeat that Marcus was gone too soon for the thirtieth time. As soon as it ends, Aubrey follows me outside to talk.

    ¡°Hey, Eryk, you got a second?¡±

    ¡°Uhh yeah, what¡¯s up?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s about you-know-what. Soooo-¡±

    ¡°Okay. Maria, you mind giving us a minute? I think my dad plans on staying here to talk with everyone, so I was going to ask if you wanted to go back to my house,¡± I said to her.

    She doesn¡¯t move or let go of my hand. ¡°Anything you want to say to Eryk, you can say in front of me, right?¡±

    These two keep butting heads. Has it always been like this, and I just didn¡¯t notice?

    ¡°It¡¯s private between me and Eryk. It doesn¡¯t concern you,¡± Aubrey said icily.

    ¡°He¡¯s my boyfriend, so I think it does,¡± Maria fired back.

    ¡°It has nothing to fucking do with you. Don¡¯t start with me, not today,¡± Aubrey said.

    ¡°Or what, Aubrey? I¡¯m not scared of you.¡±

    Is Davis¡¯ rage magnifying an underlying dislike for Maria?

    ¡°What is wrong with both of you? We¡¯re at Marcus¡¯ funeral, and you¡¯re going at each other¡¯s throats. You should be ashamed. Forget what I said, Maria. I don¡¯t want to hang out tonight,¡± I said.

    Maria¡¯s face transitions from indignation to sulky to acceptance. She walks away without saying goodbye and drives off. She is becoming a liability with her dependence on me. And now Aubrey is becoming a problem too.

    ¡°Finally. So I wanted to talk to you about-¡± Aubrey started to speak, but I cut her off.

    ¡°What the fuck was that, Aubrey? What is your problem with my girlfriend?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. I just didn¡¯t like that she was butting into something that had nothing to do with her. And she was getting on my nerves,¡± Aubrey answered.

    ¡°No, that wasn¡¯t nothing. Since we arrived today, you were on edge whenever she spoke. Aubrey, we¡¯re best friends, so be honest with me. Do you dislike Maria?¡± There¡¯s no way that I would¡¯ve missed it. Aubrey fidgets with her dress and scratches her elbow, avoiding answering my question.

    ¡°My problem isn¡¯t with her or anyone, really. I just feel so angry constantly. Things that I used to be able to ignore are causing me to explode. All it takes is a minor irritation, and I¡¯m seeing red. It¡¯s not just Maria, I¡¯m fighting with my mom, and I need to do something before I explode with all this energy. That¡¯s why I came over. I want to go out and fight tonight. I¡¯m sure we could find some scumbags to stop,¡± Aubrey said.

    ¡°Absolutely not. There are so many steps before we jump to crime fighting. Rigorous experimentation is needed. We need a plan, Aubrey. Come on. I¡¯m willing to help you but won¡¯t rush into something half-cocked without a plan.¡±

    ¡°Fine. You¡¯re right. When I get home, I¡¯ll do a deep dive into my ability and try to compile some notes about what I learn. I need a good amount of materials to build the helmets,¡± she said.

    ¡°Helmets? As in more than one?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes, two, one for me and one for you. If you¡¯re going to be helping me, the least I can do is make you one. What features do you want?¡±

    ¡°Thank you so much. I appreciate it. I don¡¯t need the helmet to have any offensive capabilities, just it being sturdy and able to disrupt cameras. I don¡¯t plan on becoming a cape like you. And I don¡¯t want anything I help you with interfering with my regular life.¡± I can¡¯t believe that I don¡¯t have to trick her into making me one. She¡¯s willingly volunteering to make me one. She doesn¡¯t know what I plan to do, or she would¡¯ve never agreed. It¡¯s good she listened to me. We need more data. Tinkering allows a person to transform mundane materials into fantastical creations. In her case, she can make helmets with abilities that seem like science fiction. Probing the boundaries of her new power is paramount to her adventures as a Cape.

    ¡°That should be doable. Should we go shopping later? Lowes is open till ten.¡±

    ¡°Aubrey, we can¡¯t go shopping at Lowes, let alone any store in New Farford. What we¡¯re talking about counts as vigilantism. The law doesn¡¯t care about your heroic intent. You must be a member of the Heroes¡¯ Union to fight crime legally. We can¡¯t buy anything from anywhere in town or any place big enough to require cameras. We need to buy things in small amounts and only use cash. That way, we can prevent a paper trail leading back to us,¡± I explained.

    ¡°How are you so prepared for this? I didn¡¯t even think about cameras or any of that stuff.¡±

    ¡°I learned it all from watching thriller and detective movies. The number one thing I learned is that carelessness gets you caught. I want you to get experience so you¡¯re ready when you inevitably try to join the Heroes¡¯ Union,¡± I said.

    ¡°Thanks, dude. Glad I can count on you and Jean-Luc. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do without you guys. You two mean even more to me now that there are only three of us. I¡¯m sorry about what happened with Maria. The last thing I wanna do is fuck up your relationship. I¡¯ll message her later to apologize. My mom¡¯s leaving now, so I¡¯ll talk to you later.¡±

    I say my goodbyes to everyone and leave with my father. The ride home is quiet, and he¡¯s unsure what to say. I¡¯m positive Maria will text me later. I should ignore it to cause more strain. I¡¯m tired after my late night and the funeral. I know I¡¯ll sleep like a corpse tonight.

    <hr>

    It¡¯s been three weeks since the funeral, and tonight is the night Aubrey will be debuting as a Cape. Three weeks of telling Maria I¡¯m busy or not feeling well to avoid her. Aubrey arrives at my house at seven; we aren¡¯t supposed to go out till eight, but it¡¯s clear she¡¯s giddy with anticipation. She has a duffle bag hanging from her shoulder, which I assume has the helmets inside. My dad is home, so we head to my room for secrecy.

    ¡°Hey, Eryk, I know I¡¯m a little early, but I wanted to make sure everything worked,¡± Aubrey said.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure that¡¯s why,¡± I replied.

    ¡°Fine, maybe I¡¯m a teensy bit excited about finally being able to be a hero.¡±

    ¡°I thought the term was Cape,¡± I said.

    ¡°It is, you know what I mean, Eryk. Stop being a dick," she said, clearly annoyed.

    ¡°I¡¯m just joking. I know what this means for you. You wanna show me the helmets?" I asked.

    Her brief annoyance instantly transitions to joy. She slowly unzips the duffel bag she brought, revealing a dark yellow helmet similar to a hornet''s face. Complete with antennae, mandibles, and large eyes. The face isn''t rounded but full of hard angles and sharp edges. It will surely strike fear into criminals'' hearts. It looks more like what a Cowl would wear. For a girl who wants to be a hero, this thing isn¡¯t very heroic-looking.

    "Wow."

    "Right? Once I started working on it, I couldn¡¯t stop. More and more ideas filled my head as my power transformed my desires into reality. With this, I will be able to stop people like Davis. I¡¯ll avenge anyone who¡¯s been wronged by unjust Neuvohumans. This thing has plenty of surprises for any Cowls we cross,¡± Aubrey said.

    ¡°It¡¯s certainly distinct. I¡¯m happy you¡¯ve been able to turn the party into something good. It¡¯s too bad my power isn¡¯t useful for fighting crime. Will it keep you safe?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Oh yeah. I made both helmets bulletproof and resistant to most forms of damage. A high-caliber piercing round might be able to get through it, but I doubt we¡¯ll be engaging a sniper. Now go on and look at yours!¡±

    She¡¯s acting like it¡¯s a birthday gift. I pull the bag over to me and move the towel that''s covering my helmet. It¡¯s perfect; matte black, and not a single piece of it¡¯s reflective. Slimmer than her own and without any features, the face of it is flat and slightly curved. No adornments or anything weird; this is beyond my imagination of what she could accomplish. Aubrey, you have truly outdone yourself.

    ¡°So I know you said you needed it to disrupt cameras, but instead, I made it even better. It constantly emits electromagnetic interference, distorting your image from any video footage. You¡¯ll appear fuzzy and blurry. Then I added a filtration system in case we get stuck in a building with a gas leak or smoke. It has enhanced optics to allow us to see in darker environments. Try it on, try it on, try it on.¡± She continued.

    Looking at the helmet in my hands, I¡¯m confused about how to put it on. It¡¯s a solid piece, and the only opening is the size of my neck. My helmet is much smaller than Aubreys. After several minutes of turning it over and over, she finally interjects.

    ¡°There¡¯s a tiny button on the inside of the face. Press it.¡±

    I follow her instructions, and the back of the helmet splits at some invisible seam. Then the two sides begin shuffling and sliding toward the front. It compacted itself down until it was a mask-- clever Aubrey, very clever. Holding the mask in my palms, I raise it to my face and press the button again. In less than thirty seconds, my head is encased. I can see clearly, just like I could before. It doesn¡¯t matter to me how; all that matters is that it works.

    I don¡¯t even have to lie to her. ¡°Aubrey, this is amazing. Thank you. Wait, what¡¯s up with my voice?¡± My voice comes out strange, like several people speaking simultaneously. Not in a harmonious way either, but like a group of strangers talking over each other.

    ¡°I did the same thing for me. What we¡¯re about to do is technically illegal, so I figured this would help protect our identities,¡± she answered.

    Truly my ability is a perfect power. It turned an otherwise useless girl into a genius capable of wonder. Nobody but I could make the best of this power. She made the helmets, but I wonder if she took my other advice seriously. I instructed her to work out, not because she¡¯s out of shape, but because she has no stamina. She has a healthy physique, but I don¡¯t know if she can even run a mile. Aubrey starts talking to me, bringing me back to earth.

    ¡°So I think we¡¯ll have to go to Crimton tonight. I know it¡¯s a thirty-minute drive, but everywhere else around here is so small they don¡¯t even have a sheriff, let alone crime,¡± she explained.

    ¡°Crimton? Aubrey, that place is a fucking shithole. I get that you want to go out and fight bad guys, but maybe start smaller? Reedham is closer and won¡¯t end in either of us getting stabbed.¡± This is amazing. She¡¯s willingly picking a place that makes up more than half of all non-Neuvohuman-related casualties in our state. There¡¯s a real chance that I¡¯ll get to feel something tonight.

    ¡°Eryk, you¡¯ve given me an opportunity to do something I¡¯ve only been able to live out in dreams. I refuse to play it safe. I will make it my mission to clean up Crimton and use that as proof I should join the Heroes¡¯ Union. We can even find out if there¡¯s another way for you to take a person¡¯s powers.¡±

    I look Aubrey right in her eyes and nod. ¡°You¡¯re right. As your friend, I should support your goals, not crush them. I still don¡¯t want to be a part of all this Cape and Cowl stuff, but I¡¯ll help you the best I can.¡±

    She squeals happily and jumps off my bed. ¡°Thanks. Now can we get going?¡±

    ¡°Sure. Put the helmets back in your bag. The last thing I need is my dad seeing them.¡±

    Today is July 6th, and the first day of class is September 8th. I have sixty-four days to get so much done; collect more abilities, pack up and move into my new apartment in Quinstin, tie up any loose ends here in New Farford, and free myself of my Maria problem. There just isn¡¯t enough time in the day. None of that is as important as ensuring the two of us survive tonight. I stop and look at myself in the mirror. Everything is black, from my socks to my turtleneck. With gloves on, I won¡¯t show any skin. Unremarkable and unrecognizable, nobody will ever be able to associate this person with Eryk.

 Chapter 11 - The Docks (Updated 10/29)

    We hop in my truck, heading toward the city of Crimton. For the first time in our friendship, Aubrey has nothing to say. She¡¯s quiet and reserved; her phone isn¡¯t even out. I turn on the radio to fill the silence; anxiety tends to fester if left alone. The last thing I need is for her to chicken out before we get there. Some generic-sounding house music is playing¡ªideal for zoning out on a long drive. The thirty minutes pass quickly, and I see the sign for Crimton as I turn off the highway. I lower the music and finally address my silent passenger.

    ¡°Alright, where are we headed? We can¡¯t just drive around looking for crimes in my truck.¡±

    ¡°Head over to the docks.¡±

    Crimton¡¯s Docks used to be the biggest supplier of jobs a couple of decades ago. Dozens of shipping freighters went through several dozen massive warehouses daily to house all the goods. All that stopped when a fight between a group of Cowls and Capes tore through them, and the city shut it down. The loss of hundreds of jobs meant a lot of angry laid-off workers, who, over time, turned to crime¡ªso many directionless people with nothing to do but band together in smaller groups that struggle for power. Prostitution, robbery, assault, drugs, and murder, Crimton has it all. The good news is anything we do here is unlikely to get the cops called. I am free to do whatever I deem necessary tonight. This place is a lawless zone full of people who will never be missed.

    I park my truck behind an abandoned convenience store across from the opening to the docks. The convenience store has been stripped down to nothing but the walls. The windows and doors are gone, and everything is covered in copious graffiti. I turn the engine off and look at Aubrey. She¡¯s in the process of putting her wasp helmet on. I hadn¡¯t noticed before, but her outfit has a theme. She¡¯s wearing yellow striped pants, black boots, a yellow tank top, and a leather jacket that used to say Queen Bitch on the arms, but she''s removed all the letters until it says Queen B. She is really leaning into the wasp motif. We wait silently; I check my phone and see we¡¯ve been parked for thirty minutes.

    ¡°Aubrey, do you not have a plan?¡± I asked.

    She doesn¡¯t respond immediately, and when she does, it¡¯s changed by the helmet. ¡°No, I have a plan. And that plan is to wait until a crime is being committed, and I¡¯ll rush over and stop it.¡±

    She is a moron. How, after three weeks, do you not have a plan? Does she believe that idealism and hope will carry her through a fight? Any hopes of being able to hang back and watch are lost to the wind. If I let her go out there, there is a chance she will die. It¡¯s unfortunate that there isn¡¯t a webpage for local criminals. I would have liked more information about the movers and shakers. Crimton isn¡¯t a large enough city to have a Heroes¡¯ Union or a BNA office, so I¡¯m going into this blind.

    Is my need for excitement and emotions causing me to take an unnecessary risk? As someone who doesn¡¯t have to worry about making emotional responses, I should be able to produce clinically precise decisions in every scenario. But now I find myself sitting in a vacant parking lot with a carefree idiot and no plan in sight. Neither of us has any tactical gear or protection. If this goes poorly, tonight could be Aubrey¡¯s first and last night as a Cape. A slight tingle passes through me at the thought. Regardless of Aubrey¡¯s naivete, I cannot back down now. All human beings are inherently selfish, and unlike other people, I have nothing to counteract my selfishness. If this city burns, I won¡¯t bat an eye if it can give me what I want. Nothing and no one will get in my way of gathering more pieces.

    My phone reads eight-thirty. I would¡¯ve thought the Crimton docks would be a hive of criminal activities. Not that crime has business hours, but we haven¡¯t seen another person. From what I know about this place, there should be at least a few addicts purchasing drugs. Something is different about tonight. I roll down my window, and the scent of garbage and wet cigarettes fills the air. I¡¯ve never liked the smell of tobacco, and after the party, I¡¯m not in any hurry to inhale smoke anytime soon. Aubrey hasn¡¯t said a word since she answered me, and I¡¯m not hurrying to break the silence.

    Not until an hour has passed is there movement at the docks. A blacked-out SUV with beyond-regulation tinted windows pulls up alongside six people on motorcycles. They open the metal chain link gates and head further in. I lose sight of them after that. Another twenty minutes go by, and a second group of people shows up¡ªtwo limousines with faded paint, a couple of scratches, and even missing a hubcap or two. The second group seems worse off. Just by virtue of who arrived first, I can parse a bit of the power dynamic. By showing up first, the SUV group can set their goons up strategically and check the meeting place first¡ªa manner of trust and a sign of respect. The earlier arrivals are in charge.

    ¡°Finally. something happens.¡± Aubrey¡¯s sudden proclamation shocked me out of my head. She quickly gets out of my truck and heads toward the docks.

    I thought about calling out, shouting for her to wait and be safe. But that isn¡¯t what I need; I need this to get out of control. Only then will the chaos I need appear. And at the moment when everything goes to hell, where a single mistake could cost me my life, that is when I will navigate the battlefield to take what I want. So instead of doing what I should, I¡¯ll wait, let Aubrey go, and make a mess of the place. No matter what happens, I cannot lose; even Aubrey¡¯s death wouldn¡¯t be a setback. If a God exists, then indeed, I am their favorite son. If God is the one giving out powers, then does that make me a demigod? The ability to make someone special and even take it away is proof of it.

    Watching a woman dressed up like a scary bumblebee attempt to sneak across an open parking lot is the opposite of stealthy, but no one is posted at the gate. My friend sneaks into the docks undetected, and I lose sight of her. I turn the engine on and roll my window up. I begin to relax and think about the recklessness of her plan. The steering wheel feels cool against my forehead, and I can zone out momentarily. Information is an area I thoroughly lack; I¡¯ve spent the last eighteen years utterly ignoring Capes and Cowls. Now, I have to play catch up to avoid being caught off-guard. I let out a breath and raise my head off the wheel, just in time to see arcs of purple electricity shooting into the sky, joined by a cacophony of gunshots.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    I¡¯m not sure how long I¡¯ve been sitting by myself for things to have gotten so bad. It doesn¡¯t matter; time to go. I grab the collapsed helmet and press the button, letting it enclose my head. What the hell happened? I lock the doors on my truck and walk over to an overturned garbage can. The atrocious smell from before is entirely filtered by the helmet, saving me from possibly emptying my stomach. I carefully place my keys and wallet in a sandwich bag before hiding the bag beneath the trash pile. One last check to make sure I don¡¯t have any skin showing. Back straight as I walk across the street, I project confidence for any possible lookouts. Any hidden goons will see someone in all black steadily walking toward the mayhem, even as the gunfire and sounds only grow.

    The gates are open, but I don¡¯t see any of the vehicles from earlier. It won¡¯t be hard to find where everyone is; I just need to follow the sounds of chaos. I¡¯m not creeping or trying to sneak, just carefully approaching what I would only describe as an active warzone. Fifteen minutes later, I arrive at a crossroads of four different warehouses, where I finally get my first real taste of a Neuvohuman battle. In front of me, the black SUV is on fire and upside down, and three of the six motorcyclists lie dead on the street. What the fuck did you do, Aubrey? I¡¯m hidden from the line of sight by the burning wreckage. Amidst the blood and water on the ground are loose hundred-dollar bills. One of the limousines has its trunk popped open, and I can see plastic-wrapped white bricks. Aubrey¡¯s intervention must have made this drug deal go awry.

    Regular guys with guns hide behind cover and fire at each other, creating a hail of bullets. On one side is a group of Asian gangbangers, specifically Korean, based on what little I can hear over the gunfire. They¡¯re firing at some mafiosos, complete with cheap suits and stupid hats. In the center is a Korean man in his mid-twenties. Bare-chested, save for an oversized fur coat, showing off chiseled abs and a coiling dragon tattoo that seems to start from his back and wrap around his body up to his neck. With tight black jeans held up by a Gucci belt, he looks like an honest, upstanding civilian. But his most eye-catching aspect is the purple electricity arcing off his body; I¡¯ve found where all the lightning comes from. I can¡¯t tell from my position if his spiked hair is due to his power or some kind of product. His opponent is far more interesting, though, a ten-foot-tall woman made of some sort of volcanic rock. The creature has a sports bra and shorts made of cooled obsidian. Bulging muscles, she¡¯s built like an Olympic bodybuilder, with thin lines crisscrossing her body, faintly glowing like lava. Her hair and eyebrows are made of literal fire, and her eye sockets and mouth glow with molten light.

    Based on size and visage alone, you would think the man can¡¯t do anything. But each time the obsidian woman throws a punch, he¡¯s already moving and firing electricity back. His attacks aren¡¯t leaving a mark or even hurting her. Every attack he makes just serves to annoy her. Neither seems to be slowing down, and their fight has a chokehold on me. How long have they been fighting? The woman¡¯s speed is unbelievable, given her stature, and she sprints at the man. He rolls to the left, but her right leg is already swinging at him. Electricity follows him as he weaves away from her like a drunken boxer. He¡¯s being forced to only use ranged attacks because of how durable the woman¡¯s skin is. Unfortunately, all he¡¯s doing is avoiding getting hit, and he isn¡¯t actually harming her. There is something hypnotic about their fight, as if it¡¯s a choreographed dance and not a life-or-death struggle. I am getting the same sense of excitement here that I felt at the party. I need more. I will make this even worse. Like a maestro controlling an orchestra, all will dance to my tune.

    The Korean man makes a run toward the motorcycles, prompting the firewoman to rush after him. He jumps over them, and just as she goes to follow, he blasts them with a bolt, and they explode. The bikes blast apart, sending shrapnel everywhere, and more than one of the regular people gets hit. Thick black smoke billows out from the site of the explosion, and even through the smoke, I can see the glowing eyeholes of the volcano woman. Pulling my eyes from the elemental showdown, I observe the battlefield as a whole. I can¡¯t see Aubrey anywhere, but I can sense she¡¯s to my right. I should check on the would-be hero. I¡¯m unsure if my power would tell me if she is dead.

    No one has noticed me yet, so they won¡¯t see me leaving either. Along my way toward her location, I see one of the mobsters sitting against a wall. Taking a closer look at him, he¡¯s not dead. His chest is steadily rising with his breaths. His eyes are bloodshot, and his mouth is wide open. Whatever happened to him wasn¡¯t from the two Neuvohumans I¡¯ve seen; it wasn¡¯t caused by fire or electricity. There is at least one more Cowl up ahead.

    I find a pistol by his side, but I don¡¯t know enough about firearms to fathom a guess what kind it is. I check the gun; it¡¯s loaded and has eight bullets left. He hasn¡¯t stirred from his position or made any movements since I arrived. Someone paralyzed him and did not bother to finish him off. It must have been Aubrey; no one else here would be trying to limit casualties. My first instinct is to get rid of any witnesses, but that¡¯s what Eryk would do, and Eryk isn¡¯t here. I crouch down to look into the man¡¯s face. It¡¯s frozen in place, though it¡¯s hard to tell if he¡¯s in pain. I grip his head and try to move it around. His facial muscles are locked up, and I can¡¯t make them budge with any amount of force. It¡¯s almost as if he was pumped full of Botox. What did you do to him?

    This is the first time I¡¯ve ever seen a gun up close, let alone held one. I don¡¯t have confidence in any distance shooting. Having a weapon is better than not having a weapon, even if I¡¯m inexperienced. From what little I¡¯ve read about guns, I know that the recoil is always stronger than you expect. A test would help me be better prepared, and I just happen to have a target available.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if you can hear me in there, but I¡¯ve never handled a gun. And where I¡¯m headed, I¡¯d like to know what the recoil feels like.¡± It¡¯s hard to reconcile the words I hear in my helmet and the voice that comes from it. Aubrey made the overlapping voice changer to protect our anonymity, but it does come out as a genuinely menacing chorus.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m not going to kill you. One shot through your leg just as a test.¡±

    Human emotive language is incredibly fascinating. Even though the man is paralyzed, he can radiate sheer terror through his eyes alone. It is an informative lesson; I¡¯m already taking mental notes of how he¡¯s achieving this effect. I¡¯ll practice it when I get home. I stand up and back away from the man, pointing the gun at him. It¡¯s heavier than it looks, and I remember you¡¯re supposed to hold it with both hands. I try to mimic what I¡¯ve seen in various videos and aim. I pull the trigger, and the gun goes off instantly. Having never fired a weapon before, I thought it would be more impactful on me. It was over in the blink of an eye.

    My shot went high and hit him in the stomach instead of the leg. However, I didn¡¯t lose my grip, so that¡¯s a plus. Deep red stains start forming on his shirt, and blood begins to run off him and pool. I double-check the ammo and continue on my way. I¡¯m close enough to Aubrey to see the warehouse she¡¯s inside. My vague sense of her is moving, so she isn¡¯t dead. Yet, anyway. The closer I get, the quieter the sounds of the firefight become. The building is enormous, easily forty feet tall. I need to find a way inside that allows me to watch everything from the shadows. The front entrance is wide open, but that¡¯s not exactly stealthy. I spot a ladder leading to some scaffolding on the left side of the building. I don¡¯t see anybody else nearby, but I keep checking behind me, expecting someone. It wouldn¡¯t do to get shot in the back due to carelessness.

    The ladder is rusted but secure. I place my boot against it to test my weight, and it holds, so I begin climbing. The scaffolding is firmly attached to the outside walls; the only way in is through the large windows. Dusty and stained from years of abandonment, I can¡¯t see through them. I don¡¯t hear any sounds, but whether that¡¯s good or bad is undetermined. The windows don¡¯t have latches or handles; I¡¯m going to have to break them to get inside. I can¡¯t use my arms or legs and risk getting cut and leaving DNA behind. Fortunately for me, I have something resistant to most forms of damage. Let¡¯s put your creation to the test Aubrey. I lean back and smash my helmet into the glass, and it shatters so easily I nearly fall through the opening. Let¡¯s see how my friend is holding up.

 Chapter 12 - Cowl Standoff

    Peaking my head through the gap, I don¡¯t see anybody. All I see are large wooden crates stacked high and metal shelving that reaches the ceiling. I use my helmet to finish breaking the window, and it might be unnecessary, but better safe than sorry. There isn¡¯t any easy way down, but a large, almost pyramid-shaped stack of boxes is nearby. All it¡¯ll take is a short jump, but if I miss, I will fall over thirty feet onto concrete.

    I¡¯ve lived my whole life on mute, unable to experience any emotions. Even basic instinctual ones like fear are out of grasp. I am cursed to live while only being able to feel bodily sensations like pain, pleasure, and exhaustion. I imagine this sensation is similar to what drugs do to you. I will chase this even if it leads me to hell. It isn¡¯t a hard decision; the excitement I have felt since entering the docks is undeniable. I¡¯m in the air, my body moving as my mind dallies. I stick the landing perfectly, but the crates are old and rotted. The box I¡¯m standing on falls apart under my weight. Tumbling down through the boxes, I¡¯m thankful for the helmet protecting my head and neck.

    The rest of me isn¡¯t so lucky as I manage to hit every part of me on the way down. My left side crashes into the concrete, and I feel something give. Gingerly moving my hand, I press against my rib cage, sending a jolt of pain throughout my body. I let out a hiss, and the helmet makes it sound like a family of robotic snakes. The pain is terrible but manageable. Wait, where is the fucking gun? Shuffling around on my hands and knees, I search everywhere. I see a glimmer in my peripheral; the thing is stuck under one of the shelves. Crawling my way over to it on my stomach, I give it a once over, and it looks fine.

    I need to find Aubrey and get both of us out of here. Watching those two titans duke it out has shown me that I was naive to the realities of Neuvohuman fights. There is no way to leverage either of our powers to allow me to take their abilities. Either one of them could kill Aubrey and me easily. I should have talked her out of this; we are not dealing with a deranged rookie like Davis. These people are gangbangers with powers. Once I am home I can take the time to create better than this.

    It¡¯s arguably better to hurt my ribs and not a leg. At least the injury won¡¯t impact my mobility. I move as quickly as I can without making a sound. Do not let the past few weeks be wasted; I would prefer not to have to restart my plans with Jean-Luc. He isn¡¯t as malleable as her and is likelier to get cold feet. She can be influenced and molded into a perfect pawn. No one has come, and Aubrey is standing still. With my entrance and subsequent fall, I made so much noise, yet no one came running. I continue through the warehouse, careful of what might await me ahead. Raised voices break the silence, and I quicken my pace. I duck down behind some boxes as I get closer.

    What awaits me is a three-way standoff between Aubrey, a jacked Korean man, and a middle-aged mafioso. The Korean man is a bald, bulging mass of veiny musculature, taller than me by a good bit, and his arms are the size of my torso. He¡¯s wearing grey basketball shorts and a white V-neck. On his arms and legs are thick golden bands. The older man has slicked hair and a goatee. Why is everyone dressing like idiots?

    "Give it up, criminal scum. Cause Queen Bee is here to stop you." Aubrey''s voice has a slight buzz added to the overlapping voices, giving it a more bee-like quality.

    The Korean man starts laughing. ¡°Gio¡¯s scraping the bottom of the barrel now, huh? Sending bitches and cokeheads to do his dirty work.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know who this Gio guy is, but I am here to stop you both. Surrender now and come along quietly.¡± Aubrey said

    ¡°Shut your mouth, whore. I could snap you in half.¡± The Korean man said. His voice is hoarse, and his grin is wolflike.

    The Italian chuckles and then says something so softly that I¡¯m unable to hear.

    ¡°Quit mumbling, Froggy, and say it with your chest bitch,¡± the Korean man said, thumping his chest with his hand.

    ¡°I said we don¡¯t know the bug girl. And my extracurricular activities are none of your business, little Ji-Hoon.¡±

    ¡°DO NOT CALL ME THAT! I go by Dynax. I¡¯ll crack your skulls together and then finish off the rest of you for betraying us,¡± said Dynax.

    So the Italian¡¯s Cowl name is Froggy? And the Korean Cowl is Dynax? Why are people so terrible at naming?

    Froggy jumps across the room and lands on Dynax¡¯s back. He climbs effortlessly around him, trying to plunge a knife into the mass of flesh. Dynax¡¯s shirt is getting shredded, but the knife isn¡¯t making a mark. The blade repeatedly bounces off of him, unable to pierce his skin.

    ¡°Haha. That tickles,¡± Dynax laughed.

    Dynax tries to swat Froggy away, but he can¡¯t reach him. The smaller man is sticking to him like a fly on excrement. Crawling all over him, he¡¯s making sure to stay just out of reach of his grasp. Dynax starts walking toward one of the giant metal shelves, turning around to try and scrape the smaller man off. Froggy jumps off his back and scurries up the shelf. Dynax charges, barrelling into it and sending it toppling over. Froggy leaps off, but instead of falling toward Dynax, he rights himself in midair, landing on the ceiling.

    ¡°You¡¯re nothing but a brute. Think, you mindless idiot. What would we have to gain by fucking over the Dragons?¡± Froggy asks while standing upside down, defying gravity.

    Definitely a Cowl. What kind of power would let him do that?

    ¡°Italians and greed are tale old as time. Now get down here and fight me, you coked-up pussy.¡±

    Dynax stomps the ground, sending cracks through it. He picks up a piece of broken concrete the size of a garbage can and chucks it at his opponent. Froggy hops over it, still walking on the ceiling.

    ¡°Why would I do that? You really are stupid. How do we know you people didn¡¯t bring her? Maybe you guys are the ones who got too greedy and wanted more. None of that matters now. I¡¯ll bring the head of Lee Daeshim¡¯s enforcer to Gio and get a nice reward.¡±

    My assumption about Aubrey being the cause of the gang war was correct. The Italians and the Dragons were partners in some manner of drug trafficking until my friend showed up and blew up an already volatile situation. I watch as she yells at them to give up once again. Aubrey¡¯s attempts at heroism are pitiful; the only thing people like this respect is might. Without a significant show of force, they will not listen. How long will it take until she explodes with rage? I could barely keep it in check, and I don¡¯t have an underlying anger issue.

    I can¡¯t see her face due to the helmet, but I don¡¯t imagine she¡¯s looking too happy. The two of them dismissing her and making rude remarks are only going to fuel the flames inside her. Aubrey finally reaches her breaking point, and the antennas on her helmet light up before discharging electricity at Dynax. It erupts, arcing through the air and hitting him in the back. The sound is decidedly unique as it hits, almost like an egg frying crossed with TV static. Thick black smoke billows off his back as he falls to his knees. Well, that is a surprise. Aubrey¡¯s helmet has, at minimum, two different features: electrical blasts and some type of highly potent paralytic. Despite the power of Aubrey¡¯s attack, Dynax climbs to his feet and stares at her with rage contorting his face.

    ¡°I was gonna leave you till I finished him off, but congrats, you get to die first bitch,¡± Dynax said while cracking his knuckles.

    Before Dynax can reach her, Froggy drops down and plants both feet into Dynax¡¯s back, sending him onto the floor. He pulls another knife out and slashes at Dynax¡¯s calf. It doesn¡¯t do anything. He keeps jumping around Dynax, striking out to no avail before he speaks.

    ¡°The roid rage beast is chastising me for doing drugs? Jesus fucking Christ, you¡¯re a hypocrite and an idiot. You have super strength, and you¡¯re using muscle enhancements and steroids to look bigger? Me, I know what I am, and don¡¯t try to act otherwise.¡±

    ¡°BOTH OF YOU BASTARDS NEED TO LISTEN TO ME!¡± Aubrey screamed at the two cowls.

    She shoots a bolt of electricity at them. Dynax grabs Froggy¡¯s leg, crushing it and using the man as a shield. The bolt races through the air, hitting him in the center of his chest. The mafioso flies through the air, landing right where I am hiding. His screams sound just like those Marcus made before I killed him. Froggy¡¯s chest is a bright reddish pink and missing enough layers of skin that I see muscle. The attack annihilates his shirt and coat, and his pants are charred and blackened. Aubrey turns to the remaining Cowl and continues shocking him. Dynax is using his massive arms to shield his face.

    ¡°You¡¯ve both been given extraordinary gifts that most could never dream of. And you WASTE IT. Instead of helping people or making a difference, you choose to participate in this petty crime power struggle in some backwater city. People like you don¡¯t deserve powers. People like you don¡¯t deserve anything.¡±

    Even through the voice changer, I can tell how furious she is. Froggy¡¯s body keeps twitching violently, and he¡¯s stuttering uncontrollably. This is my chance. I rip my glove off, press my hand against Froggy¡¯s neck, and begin to siphon his ability. Just survive for five minutes, Froggy. Five minutes, and I will help Aubrey. I hear them fighting but can¡¯t see anything. The five minutes end, and I put my glove back on. Oh, Froggy, your ability is quite unique. Just like with Davis, a part of him came with it. Instead of an emotion, it¡¯s something different. It¡¯s weird to describe it, but I somehow stole his addictive nature from him. I can¡¯t worry about that now. I need to see how their battle is going. Aubrey is now on the back foot and being chased around by Dynax. He¡¯s destroying boxes, shelving, and anything else in his way like an out-of-control bull.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    "GET BACK HERE BITCH!" Dynax screamed.

    She doesn¡¯t respond to his taunts, ducking under shelves and weaving around boxes. The warehouse lights up every time Aubrey blasts him with electric shocks. It doesn¡¯t look like it¡¯s hurting him, only destroying his clothes. Why hasn¡¯t she used whatever she used on that random thug? Does she not have any more of it? My original plan was to wait until she was over her head and then either wait till they knocked her out or do it myself. Then, kill these two and steal their powers, but she¡¯s gone off the deep end and is acting like Davis. She¡¯s prolonging this fight, and it catches up to her. Dynax backhands her, sending her flying into the wall. I¡¯ve made a mistake by waiting to do something. He might kill her. I¡¯m going to lose another friend. Well, at least this one isn¡¯t my fault.

    ¡°Your little bee stings aren¡¯t enough to put me down; I¡¯m built of stronger stuff than the fucking addict. I can¡¯t believe I thought you were with the Italians. This is why rookie Capes have such a high mortality rate. You idiots just don¡¯t have any sense in you. But don¡¯t worry. I won¡¯t kill you. Daeshim¡¯ll want to pimp you out first and make some money. The Johns¡¯ll love fucking a Cape,¡± Dynax says as he reaches for her helmet.

    ¡°Fuck you, prick.¡±

    A green gas pours out of the wasp¡¯s mouth, covering both of them in a dense smog. She wasn¡¯t being cocky; she waited, brilliant Aubrey. Now, take advantage of his hubris. Do enough damage so that I can act. Wait, why don¡¯t I hear Dynax coughing? Out of the green gas comes Aubrey¡¯s body flying through the air, parallel to the ground. She lands on the concrete hard and rolls until she hits one of the shelves. Dynax emerges out of the gas immediately after.

    ¡°As long as I don¡¯t inhale, your gas can¡¯t do anything to me. And I got lungs of steel,¡± Dynax said, tapping a finger to his temple.

    Dynax is calm and relaxed as he approaches her. She¡¯s groaning and cradling her arm to her chest. I cannot wait much longer. Should I try and gun him down from here? Do I let Aubrey die and escape when he isn¡¯t looking? No, if they capture her, then my secret will be exposed. She is weak and will fold to torture. I may not be the most well-versed in the broader Neuvohuman world, but my power is one of a kind. Capes and Cowls would both literally kill to keep the status quo. No, either Dynax or Aubrey has to die.

    I stand up with my gun hidden behind my shirt. Am I acting recklessly? Could Froggy¡¯s addiction issues exacerbate my need for a thrill? Is it already compounding my problems with chasing excitement? Focus. None of those questions are relevant in the current. Dynax needs to die immediately.

    ¡°Stop right there, Dynax.¡±

    ¡°And who the fuck are you? Where are you fuckers coming from?¡± He asked me.

    ¡°It¡¯s over for you. Give up, and I won¡¯t hurt you too badly.¡± Bluff and lie; my most significant advantage is that Dynax doesn¡¯t know what I can do. If I can convince him I¡¯m too dangerous to fight, I can give myself time to think of a way out.

    ¡°Oh yeah? Show me whatcha got,¡± Dynax¡¯s smile is nasty and promises violence.

    He will beat me to death if I can¡¯t surprise him. I see Aubrey behind him; she¡¯s facing us and struggling to get up. There is exactly one possible way we succeed here. Get him talking long enough that Aubrey can gas him again. I can use my remaining bullets to make sure he doesn¡¯t just hold his breath. Think Eryk, how do I tell Aubrey the plan?

    ¡°It¡¯s already begun. You haven¡¯t even noticed yet, have you? Guess I shouldn¡¯t be surprised. You¡¯re a Bruiser, not a Mentalist. And you look just stupid enough not to realize when someone¡¯s vastly out of your league.¡±

    His smile turns to a snarl. ¡°You¡¯re lying. If you¡¯re so strong, why didn¡¯t you get involved before?¡±

    It¡¯s working. I see Aubrey shakily stand.

    ¡°Because I didn¡¯t need to. My protege singlehandedly busted a drug deal and thrashed you and Froggy. I figured I should let her get some on-the-job experience.¡± Fall for it. Fall for it. Fall for it. I¡¯ve gotten under your skin, pretending to be a bigshot Cape. You have to be questioning why I appear so confident. I have already won. He signed his death warrant the moment he didn¡¯t immediately rush forward and attack.

    ¡°Who are you, and why are you here in Crimton? The kickbacks we send are meant to stop you guys from showing up,¡± Dynax said.

    Thank you for that nugget of information. I can use that to my advantage. ¡°I¡¯m Nobody.¡±

    ¡°Nobody? I¡¯ve never even heard of you. Are you trying to fucking lie to me? You¡¯re just like her, aren¡¯t you? Some rookie bitch who thinks he can fuck with the Dragons,¡± Dynax said.

    I can¡¯t make a move as he comes closer because I run the risk of costing Aubrey her chance. Come on, Aubrey, do it now. Just use the gas and knock him out. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her helmet¡¯s antennas light up as she fidgets with it. What are you doing? You idiot, your shocks did not affect him.

    ¡°GET AWAY FROM HIM!¡± Aubrey yells as electricity explodes out of both antennae at Dynax. Instead of multiple attacks, she fires a continuous stream across his body. Dynax laughs until the attack hits his face. He holds his hands up, but Aubrey doesn¡¯t relent. I must make do with what I have, so I pull the gun out from behind my back. While she¡¯s keeping him busy, I sneak up until I¡¯m right behind him. I can¡¯t miss this giant target before me, but I aim at his spine and fire three of the remaining bullets into him. Froggy proved that knives were ineffective, and I doubt that bullets will do much more. But this might allow her to get off another blast of gas.

    ¡°Haha, that tickles. Bullets won¡¯t work, idiot,¡± Dynax said, turning toward me.

    ¡°Now! Don¡¯t hold anything back!¡± I yelled out.

    Once again, Aubrey releases her paralytic miasma while Dynax focuses on me. The green mist floods out of her helmet in far greater quantity than before. My helmet filters the gas, but Dynax is holding his breath again. I need to get him to breathe, but Aubrey is on the ground, cradling an injury. The two of us are inside the cloud, but only one of us can see. I need to use this to my advantage. I crouch down, sneaking around Dynax, who seems content to wait for the gas to dissipate.

    I drag my hand along the floor, searching for a projectile. There are broken pieces of concrete from the fight, and I chuck one of them right at Dynax¡¯s face. It hits him square in the jaw, and he whips his head in my direction. I roll away as he sweeps his arm where I just was. There is an audible whoosh from how fast his arm moved. I start to pepper him with chunks, immediately moving after throwing each piece. Each second feels like minutes, and I¡¯m doing everything I can to stay alive. He continues trying to grab me, forcing me to start dodging as soon as the concrete leaves my hand. Each time I narrowly avoid Dynax is another roll of the dice. A change of strategy is required. I grab another rock and get closer to him. The next chunk I throw at his dick and quickly unload the remaining bullets into his face. The two-pronged assault surprises him, and I hear him breathe in. Now or never. Through the gas, I see him starting to sway from side to side. I spot Froggy¡¯s knife on the ground and chuck my pistol away in favor of it.

    Dynax falls to his knees, and I cautiously approach him, wary of any sudden traps. My heart is pumping harder than ever before. This is it. This is what I have been craving. The giant man¡¯s mouth is open and numb as his eyes bore into me. He falls into me, and I start stealing his power immediately. The gas is almost gone by the time my five minutes end, and I insert the knife into the depowered Cowl¡¯s ear, plunging it into his brain. I hear Aubrey to my left, coming over to check on me. She looks at the dead body, then the knife, and then back to me.

    ¡°Oh god. I, I, I had to. He was going to kill us.¡± The emotion isn¡¯t really translating well through the helmet, but it should be enough for her.

    Aubrey rushes to my side and removes her helmet, exposing her face. Her face is flustered, but she looks happy. She isn¡¯t appalled at his death or even upset by it. Aubrey is glad he¡¯s dead. I had thought she would try to stop the bleeding, but she isn¡¯t moving to do anything to help. Shouldn¡¯t you comfort me, your dear friend, who has just had to murder someone? Hello? Why isn¡¯t she talking or doing anything? Slowly the happiness transitions into concern, and she finally speaks to me.

    ¡°You did what you had to do. Don¡¯t beat yourself up about it, Eryk.¡±

    Why the hell are you using my real name? Are you so sure Dynax is dead that you think secrecy doesn¡¯t matter? My clothes are soaked in his blood now. I¡¯m going to have to get rid of them. I can feel his power now within me. The other part of him I took is another weird one; it¡¯s his fierce loyalty. Will this even affect me? Without emotions to form attachments, I have nothing to be loyal to. Regardless, I have to thank you, Dynax, for both gifts. His power isn¡¯t super strength; it is something much more complex. He and Froggy weren¡¯t taking full advantage of their talents. Aubrey was right; they are wastrels. I¡¯m playing up the shock of killing Dynax, which gives me plenty of reasons for not talking.

    ¡°Should we call the cops? There¡¯s a chance they might be able to save both of them.¡±

    A flicker of anger crosses her face; it might¡¯ve slipped past another person, but I have a lifetime of recognizing facial expressions.

    ¡°They won¡¯t make it in time, and honestly, maybe that¡¯s for the best,¡± Aubrey said coldly.

    God, the party really broke her. Before that night, the old Aubrey would never have said something like that. That¡¯s no way for a Cape to talk; she sounds more like a vigilante Cowl. Can I swing her further in that direction until she¡¯s willing to kill? She has no problem letting them die, but intentionally taking a life is a bigger deal to regular people. If we keep getting involved with society¡¯s worst sides, she will eventually break, which will be a sight to see. I stealthily slide my glove back on and get up off the floor, facing my friend. It isn¡¯t intelligent, but I remove my helmet. This conversation needs to be face-to-face.

    ¡°What are you saying? That we leave two men to die?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re drug-dealing murderous animals, not men. People like them don¡¯t deserve sympathy or compassion. Would they be showing us either of those if the roles were reversed? No, they wouldn¡¯t. You heard them, Dynax was going to force me into prostitution, and I¡¯m sure the other guy is just as big a piece of shit.¡± Her face is flustered again, and she looks like she¡¯ll cry. Eryk is meant to be kind and he wouldn¡¯t want his friend to talk like this.

    ¡°You don¡¯t mean that. That¡¯s the adrenaline talking, not you. We need to check on the other guy and get an ambulance here.¡± I just need to put up the barest form of argument long enough to guarantee both Dynax and Froggy die.

    ¡°No, I mean exactly what I¡¯m saying. We should escape now. My arm might be broken, and I want to get it looked at. They made their bed, and now they have to lie in it. Also, do you even have your phone on you? I left mine in your truck, so I don¡¯t know how you expect to call for help.¡±

    She¡¯s being so stubborn. I only have to argue for a bit more, and then I can graciously accept defeat.

    ¡°It¡¯s not right. I may be new to all this, but this doesn¡¯t feel heroic,¡± I said.

    ¡°That¡¯s because being a Cape doesn¡¯t mean playing the hero. Being a Cape is about making the hard choices. I¡¯m not going to waste my energy on people who are cancerous to society. You don¡¯t understand Eryk. People like Davis, Froggy, and Dynax don¡¯t care about collateral damage. They don¡¯t care who gets hurt by their meltdowns or the drugs they peddle. The world is better off without any of them. I¡¯d rather make a difference than be heroic,¡± she spat.

    ¡°I¡¯m too tired to fight on you this, but just know that I disagree. At least let me check on the other man before we leave. I¡¯ll meet you outside.¡±

    ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll check to see if the coast is clear.¡± She puts her helmet back on before heading toward the exit.

    Her opinionated attitude is going to be a problem at some point. I still have the final trump card of my ability; I can always take back what I¡¯ve given. Five minutes of physical contact to take and to give an ability, but I don¡¯t need anything other than intent to retrieve an ability. No matter the distance, Aubrey, I can take back what I gave you. I will get rid of her if she can¡¯t get in line. I have no use for a pawn that doesn¡¯t listen.

    I walk over to where I left Froggy¡ªtime to check on the other soon-to-be casualty. He¡¯s right where I left him, only he¡¯s stopped twitching. His torso rises slowly, and his skin looks terrible. Branching pink lines like tree limbs are burned into his flesh. There¡¯s barely any skin on his chest from Aubrey¡¯s attack. I stare at his ruined body, still feebly holding on to life. He will take away my anonymity if he wakes up without his power. Questions I cannot have asked will shed light upon me. It is too early for me to be exposed to the global stage. He must die, and I can¡¯t use the gun without alerting Aubrey. I am going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.

    I press my boot against his sternum, testing to see if he wakes up. I push harder and harder until I feel his ribs begin to give. The pain would be unbearable for anyone to continue pretending to be asleep. He groans faintly, the gurgling sound of a blood-filled throat. I remove my foot before stomping down again and again and again until his chest cavity caves in. It¡¯s been at least six minutes since we split, meaning I should find my friend now. My bloody boots squelch as I emerge from the warehouse to find her leaning against another building. Her jacket is off, and she¡¯s using it like a makeshift sling. The night is still young, and already we are both injured. No more surprises would be pleasant.

 Chapter 13 - Birth of a Monster

    ¡°It was too late. By the time I got to him, he had passed. Tonight has been another tragedy that¡¯ll haunt me. Let¡¯s just go home.¡± I said.

    Aubrey knows better than to say anything. She just nods in agreement. I¡¯m not sure how severe our injuries are. I could have internal bleeding, and she might have a broken arm; we need to see a doctor.

    ¡°We shouldn¡¯t go back the way we came. The Cowls over there are stronger and much more dangerous. What I saw was terrifying; they¡¯re both like forces of nature.¡±

    I¡¯ve gotten a lot out of this trip tonight, but there¡¯s more here to take. I was already finding it hard to temper my impulsive excitement chasing, and there¡¯s a chance it¡¯s intensifying with my newly addictive personality. What are the pros and cons of going back to the elemental showdown? Pros: I gain two extremely powerful abilities and two personality pieces. It will also remove them from the board of play. And all that doesn¡¯t even take into account that if I take even a fraction of the money and drugs I¡¯ve seen tonight, I could have the funds for any future plans. Cons: Aubrey and I could die. I am also risking exposure if anyone escapes and tells people about me. It¡¯s such an easy decision; I¡¯m returning there.

    ¡°Is there another way out? This place is like a maze, and we might get lost if we aren¡¯t careful,¡± Aubrey said.

    ¡°We¡¯ll have to go slowly and be on the lookout for anything or anyone. But Aubrey, let¡¯s get out of here without any more blood on our hands.¡±

    I¡¯m purposely making digs at her, picking at her flaws in order to make her lash out and then feel compelled to overcompensate in return. Gaslighting and manipulation require both carrot and stick; the carrot is the superpower, and the stick is soon to come.

    ¡°You are not the boss of me, Eryk. They got what they deserved,¡± She responds viciously. Her bloodthirstiness will become a problem if she cannot rein it in.

    She is completely letting Davis¡¯ rage control her. It¡¯s pretty good that it transferred with the power. If I still had it, I would¡¯ve snapped at her by now. Her raging around like a petulant child isn¡¯t going to do much besides be an annoyance. I¡¯m not going to bother arguing with her. There¡¯s no possible way she agrees to split up. I will have to lead her back to the fight without her knowing what I¡¯m doing. My fantastic memory means I remember the exact route back to the truck, but Aubrey has always been terrible with directions. She¡¯s the type who never remembers where we park when we go to the mall. The docks are built on a grid-like pattern, so I can easily find a path that happens to take us by the remaining Neuvohumans without her knowing.

    I sigh, and the helmet makes it sound so strange. ¡°I¡¯m not trying to be the boss of you. I¡¯m hurt and tired, and I''m sorry if I don¡¯t want to deal with any more death. I don¡¯t want to fight or argue. I want to go home. Follow me; I think I know the way back. ¡±

    Trying to make a steady pace aggravates whatever injury I got from the fall. The pain in my side is a thrum that spikes with every step. I can¡¯t worry about that now. I have to focus on the mental map of the area. I¡¯m adding random turns to try and confuse Aubrey about where we¡¯re going. The last thing I need is her figuring out what I¡¯m doing and freaking out at me. The subterfuge is adding more steps, which equals more irritation to my side. It is a necessary evil to disguise what I¡¯m doing. Thankfully, she doesn¡¯t suspect anything as we silently make our way. I lead her until we¡¯re close enough to hear sounds from the fight.

    ¡°What was that? I thought you knew the way?¡± Aubrey hissed at me.

    ¡°I do. I just might¡¯ve made a mistake. Regardless, we can just sneak by them. No one¡¯s going to notice us with everything going on.¡±

    Will she let this slide, or is she going to freak out? I have to toe the line to present myself as unintentionally malicious. It needs to come across as a mistake; I can¡¯t risk her attacking me. Her emotional instability might decide I need to be dealt with next. She doesn¡¯t say anything else, so I continue to lead us closer to the mayhem. She may be slowly learning to control her anger. It should be easier for her than it was for me. I was dealing with a hostile foreign sensation while she¡¯s had over a decade of exercising control of her emotions. Although, I am interested to see what kind of Cape she could become if she gives in to her anger.

    We begin to slow down as the battleground grows near. Upon arrival, we crouch behind a dumpster and observe the area. Rather than an all-out gang war, the battlefield has become a place of quiet carnage. Both sides have taken catastrophic losses, and all around are bodies or pieces of bodies. There is a flaming, glowing wound lasered into the concrete. The two limousines are riddled with bulletholes and slowly burning. Pieces of bikes are strewn all over the ground, and the surrounding warehouses are sagging as the brick and steel composing them melt.

    At the center is the volcano woman facing off against the lightning man. All the light poles have gone dark; the only light comes from the female Cowl. The man¡¯s earlier coat is nowhere, and his skin is covered in bad burns. She¡¯s unharmed, and the air surrounding their fight is visibly thick and hazy due to the temperature. Does her power cause her to grow hotter the longer she fights? The Korean man, Dynax called him Daeshim, isn¡¯t faring as well as he did before. He was easily dodging the woman¡¯s swings, but now he¡¯s taking glancing blows or grazes that burn and blister his body. If I just sit back, she¡¯ll eventually wear him down enough to kill him. As long as he isn¡¯t completely dead, I can get his electricity power. I can¡¯t see any possible way to handle the obsidian woman beyond an act of God striking her down. I know better than to hope for divine intervention.

    ¡°We should attack them. Make them weak enough for them to take each other out, and then we can call the proper authorities,¡± Aubrey said.

    ¡°Are you insane? They are wielding literal elements, and you want to try to fight that? Do you not remember how the last fight we had went? And that was against some street-level thugs.¡±

    Aubrey¡¯s recklessness and willingness to charge into danger eroded my hesitation to get involved. The potential reward is too great to turn down, especially if it¡¯s her idea.

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying we charge out there. I¡¯m saying I¡¯ll fire some blasts at them and tip the scales. Then, I can use my last remaining gas canister to take out the other one. I¡¯m strong enough to do this and then run. If you can¡¯t stomach this, you can head back to the truck and wait for me.¡±

    Her plan is insane. Rather, it would be insane to call this a plan. Well, there is a minuscule chance it works; either way, there¡¯s not much for me to lose personally.

    ¡°It¡¯s not about stomaching it, Aubrey. I¡¯ll stay hidden, but I''m running away if shit starts going bad. I¡¯m sorry, but I can¡¯t die here. I won¡¯t do that to my dad and Maria.¡±

    Play the girlfriend and widowed father card. It¡¯s foolproof, and Aubrey can¡¯t expect me to die for her dream. This entire fuck up of a night was her idea, and the power of friendship and determination means nothing in the face of Neuvohumans. I wish I could see her face to know if it¡¯s working. Most Capes and Cowls wear some kind of mask; I need to learn how to read people through voice and body language. It is difficult but doable. Yet another task added to the ever-growing list.

    She removes her helmet to talk to me. ¡°Yeah, I know. This night has been a complete shitshow due to my lack of planning. I know you wanted nothing to do with this kind of stuff, and I dragged you face-first into danger. I¡¯m sorry, and I won¡¯t ask you again. But if I want to call myself a Cape, I can¡¯t back down at the first Cowl who proves a challenge. The world is dark, and I want to try and be a source of light in it. I know you don¡¯t understand, but I refuse to be meek again in the face of danger.¡±

    What an excellent speech, Aubrey, but it doesn¡¯t mean much in the face of overwhelming might. If she wants to go out in a blaze of glory, it¡¯s her choice. I don¡¯t respond; she¡¯s made her decision, and I could do nothing to change her mind. Using the darkness, I sneak away to hide behind one of the limos closer to my way out. This will be Aubrey¡¯s trial by fire, and one I don¡¯t believe she¡¯ll survive. I¡¯m joined at my vantage point by one of the dead motorcyclists. His helmet has a hole in it, and his white t-shirt is now stained red, with more holes than Swiss cheese. At his side is a pistol. Again my lack of knowledge bites me in the ass. I was never big into video games. I check the magazine, and it¡¯s still full. I guess he didn¡¯t even get to fire a single shot. Unlucky, but I will put your gun to better use.

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    Aubrey hasn¡¯t made her move, and the fight continues uninterrupted. Daeshim isn¡¯t firing a bolt of electricity at her, and the energy previously coursing over his muscular frame is nowhere to be found. He is starting to lag behind. His once agile movement is now slower and far less graceful. A jump to the side saves him from getting his head kicked off, but not enough to stop him from getting his leg grabbed. His grunts turn to screams as the lady of lava holds him upside down. What little skin I can see quickly changes to a bright pink as the heat cooks him. You will have to do something soon, my friend. You cannot arrest a dead man.

    A bolt of electricity comes from Aubrey and hits Daeshim. Then another and another, she fires fifteen total blasts at him¡ªeach one strong enough to kill a man. Aubrey was paying attention when she first arrived here. Daeshim¡¯s ability is obviously based on the manipulation of electricity. He ran out of it. Does that mean he cannot create it, only manipulate it? Or is it just a limited source and it needs to regenerate? She¡¯s trying to power him up. How¡¯d she figure all this out? Is it all a hopeful guess? Her reasoning doesn¡¯t matter; it¡¯s working. Already his body is beginning to glow purple as bits of energy leak out. His screams turn to laughs before he lets off an attack that lights up the darkness. The night lights up like a solar flare, and it¡¯s only my helmet that keeps my eyes from burning. I quickly blink to get rid of the spots. I refuse to miss a second of any of this. The thrill is so potent; it¡¯s almost intoxicating. My eyes are glued, and my heartbeat races as the two powerhouses go at it.

    The volcano woman is swinging her arms around, trying to catch Daeshim. She was at the epicenter of his attack. I can¡¯t imagine her eyes faring quite well after it. He¡¯s favoring his right leg, and I can see his left has severe burn damage. The roles are reversed now, and he¡¯s dodging every swing, punch, or kick. Aubrey supercharged him, and now his bolts hit with enough force to knock her back. He¡¯s glowing with so much excess energy and moving faster than before.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know who my guardian angel is, but you have my thanks. We can talk about payment later after I kill this giant bitch,¡± Daeshim yelled.

    Daeshim acts with a level of precision that borders on precognition. He snaps up a piece of rebar from the ground, and it glows with a potent electrical charge. He jabs it at her, and she shuffles backward out of its reach. The jab is a feint, and he lets loose a bolt that knocks her onto her butt. He shocks her back onto her ass when she attempts to get up, using the rebar like a wand.

    ¡°That¡¯s what you get, you dumb bitch. You fuck with the Dragons, you fuck with Lee Daeshim? YOU FUCK WITH ME AND I FUCK BACK!¡±

    ¡°You talk too fucking much,¡± the flaming woman said.

    She charges him, weaving around the smaller bolts he fires. Daeshim chucks the rebar at her, and she blocks it with her forearm, bouncing it into the air. He lets loose another bolt, but at the rebar instead. The electricity hits it and then angles downward at her. The strike is powerful, and it blasts her backward through a building. Her flaming body leaves behind a molten hole in the wall. Seconds pass, but they feel like minutes. Is it over already? The woman hasn¡¯t made a move or a sound. Is she dead? Aubrey might have done too much; he might be too powerful to take out now.

    ¡°You can come out now, my little angel. I¡¯ll thank you face to face,¡± Daeshim said.

    I don¡¯t expect her to go out to greet him. It would be suicide. But is she daring enough to attack him?

    ¡°I said you can come out now.¡± There¡¯s a tinge of anger in his voice. ¡°I¡¯m not a patient man. Do not keep me waiting.¡±

    Smart Aubrey. Keep him agitated and anxious. But then what? How do you capitalize on his anger? Aubrey doesn¡¯t say a thing, and he gets even angrier. Minutes pass, and the electricity all over his body ceases. He closes his eyes and stops moving. What is he doing? Whatever it is can¡¯t be good. I keep hidden in the shadows and slink further away. Something about what he¡¯s doing is triggering alarm bells in my head. This is not good. Daeshim suddenly turns to where Aubrey is hiding.

    ¡°Found ya.¡± Daeshim points his hand at the dumpster she¡¯s hiding behind and fires at it. The dumpster gets blasted away, exposing Aubrey. It is time to prove your determination.

    ¡°YOU?¡± Daeshim¡¯s fury returns in an instant. Before Aubrey can do anything, lightning jumps from Daeshim¡¯s finger and hits her right in the chest. The attack sends her back into a wall headfirst. She falls to her ground, shaking, and I can¡¯t even hear her scream. Her helmet must have short-circuited from the attack. Don¡¯t be dead. I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll lose the Tinkerer power.

    ¡°GIOOOOOO! WHERE ARE YOU? I¡¯VE KILLED YOUR MEN AND BEATEN YOUR WHORES. COME OUT AND DIE,¡¯ Daeshim yells at the top of his lungs.

    The volcano woman picks now to come back. She explodes out the side of a building and barrels into him like a truck, rolling him across the road. His body tumbles across the ground until he uses two quick bursts to right himself. Her assault doesn¡¯t end there; she leaps over to him and kicks him in the chest. Daeshim dodges the follow-up strike and resumes shocking her. She ignores his zapping and backhands him. Daeshim¡¯s whole body spins like a top until he uses a few well-timed bolts to halt his momentum. He starts sending out more shocks, using the metal scattered around to attack from odd angles, but she shrugs them off.

    She is less of a woman and more of a force of nature. The heat from her is now hot enough to feel it from where I am. Everywhere around her, the asphalt road bubbles and boils like soup. Everything within ten feet of her starts combusting and bursting into flames. My assumption is correct; the longer she fights, the hotter she becomes. She punches him repeatedly in the chest. The concussive sound between rocky knuckles and chest mixes with the noises coming from his sizzling skin. He blasts her in the face again, and she responds with a knee to his abdomen that manages to lift him off the ground. While launched in the air, her large rocky hand grabs him by the leg and slams him down.

    ¡°Pathetic,¡± she said.

    ¡°Finally!¡± Out from behind some wreckage emerges the last living mafioso¡ªa tan-skinned, lanky guy in an Italian suit that¡¯s seen better days. His face is split into a wicked grin with small eyes that are deep set into his face. Clean-shaven but with a large scar across his face, he certainly looks the part. ¡°Put him in the ground where he can¡¯t move. I want to gloat in this smug fucks face.¡±

    The obsidian woman picks up Daeshim and pushes him into a part of the tar that''s still smoking. She submerges him in the road up to his waist and elicits another round of what I can only assume are Korean curse words. The mafioso is giggling in glee at the other man¡¯s suffering. And this is probably Gio. He fits the archetype well, delighting in cruelty and reveling in violence. It is a disease. Only monsters find satisfaction in harming others. I do it only when the situation calls for it. Violence is a tool, not a pastime.

    ¡°Now cut the flames. I don¡¯t want you burning my suit.¡±

    The flames extinguish, and the obsidian-like skin slowly becomes flesh as the woman shrinks to average human height. What stands there now is an average-looking, muscular, redheaded woman standing beside him. She clearly takes care of herself and works out a lot. Her workout gear transforms with her; she¡¯s a Shifter. She doesn¡¯t look much older than me. Gio casually strolls over to Daeshim and starts wailing at him. He has terrible form and is doing little more than wildly swinging at him. Punches and kicks rain down, all while cackling. He doesn¡¯t stop until his hands are covered in blood. The woman seems bored and like she¡¯d rather be anywhere else. What is her deal? Does she owe him money, or does he have blackmail on her? I cannot fathom a reason why she is listening to him. I don¡¯t know enough about their dynamic or relationship. Information like that would make what I¡¯m about to do less dangerous. I cannot let Gio kill Daeshim, not yet, anyway.

    Exiting my cover, I walk toward them. Gio doesn¡¯t have a weapon, and the woman is no longer transformed. I am wearing all black with a faceless helmet. I can¡¯t even guess what I look like to them. I have been thinking about my new face as Eryk, but I will need a face for who I am when I put on the mask. A new identity wholly separated from the student Eryk Blakely. And there is no better time than right now to finalize my Cowl personality¡ªa plethora of options I can emulate: tyrannical, honorable, funny, psychopathic. I think I¡¯ll go the clinical mastermind route: efficient and calculating but not afraid to get my hands dirty.

    ¡°Hello, sorry to interrupt, but would you mind not killing that man? I require something from him. You can have him back when I¡¯m done, though.¡± They both turn and face me, the unknown newcomer. Emerging from the shadows with a voice that sounds like a choir of strangers talking over each other, I confidently approach them. The helmet will let them know I¡¯m a Neuvohuman, and those can be dangerous if you don¡¯t know what they¡¯re capable of. If things get sticky, I have the pistol I¡¯m hiding in my waist. Watching so many detective movies has paid dividends.

    ¡°Who the fuck are you? How dare you tell me what to do?¡± Gio¡¯s upset. Good, that¡¯ll make this even easier. Ignoring him, I make my gamble.

    ¡°Lavagirl, you don¡¯t mind, do you?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Lavagirl? Hah, I actually haven¡¯t heard that one before. I honestly don¡¯t care. I got what I wanted already,¡± she answered, laughing.

    Her voice is full and sultry. The glare Gio sends her could freeze hell. I¡¯m right; they¡¯re partners of opportunity or chance. I need to capitalize on the initiative.

    ¡°I¡¯m not too familiar with the local scene. So forgive me for not knowing such a powerful Cowl. You said you got what you wanted; what did you come here for? I asked, moving closer to them.

    Her smirk lets me know she¡¯s enjoying our back and forth. ¡°I was here to fight him, Lee Daeshim, the Lightning Dragon of the Docks,¡± she said his title mockingly, complete with air quotes. ¡°He was all talk. Wittle baby thought he was invincible. But the dragon couldn¡¯t handle a little heat.¡±

    ¡°Perfect. Then I¡¯ll be quick.¡± I responded.

    ¡°HELLO? STOP FUCKING IGNORING ME! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?¡± Gio yelled at me.

    ¡°Quiet,¡± I said, unloading the entire magazine into him.

    Gio dies with shock on his face, choking on blood and gasping for air. I toss my gun at him and stand behind Daeshim. My gloves are soaked at this point, so I throw them into one of the fires burning around us. Placing my hand against the only part of his back that isn¡¯t melting, I activate my power. Lavagirl watches me, clearly curious as to what I¡¯m doing. Her face betrays her; I¡¯ve got her hooked. The internal timer ends, and I¡¯ve taken his electricity. Unlike Froggy and Dynax, he gave me an emotion. I can now envy someone. His power alone is worth more than every ability I¡¯ve taken combined. It explains his dodging and how he found Aubrey while she was hiding. I remove my hand and face the woman watching me. The silence lingers between us, and she wants to know what I did.

    ¡°You¡¯ve asked me a lot of questions. Now it¡¯s my turn. You with the bumble bee?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Yes and no. She¡¯s part of a project of mine, but she was here for her own reasons,¡¯ I answered.

    ¡°What did you do to him? I¡¯m curious since it doesn¡¯t seem like you did anything.¡±

    Remain mysterious but open. ¡°Ah. I¡¯m afraid it¡¯s a secret. If there¡¯s nothing else, I¡¯ll be leaving, miss.¡±

    ¡°One more; who are you?¡±

    I have given a lot of thought to this question. My entire life, I have asked myself the same question. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the reflection of someone who did not exist. If every part of you is fabricated, are you real? Does it even matter? I can mimic how everybody else acts: emotions, expressions, and even the various connections that people have. But as masterfully as I act and emulate, I am not like everybody.

    ¡°Me? I am Nobody.¡±

 Chapter 14 - Inklings of a Plan

    I walk over to Aubrey and check her pulse. It¡¯s steady, but she is out cold. Her abdomen is burned pretty badly, and she has the same lines on her skin as Froggy. Lee Daeshim didn¡¯t use his full power on her. If he had, she probably would have had a hole in her. As is, she has horrific scarring she¡¯ll live with for the rest of her life. There¡¯s no Liquid Lazarus to save her. You will have a long road to recovery. I hoist her onto my back and begin the long walk back. Her weight on top of my own only makes my body hurt even more than it does. Should I just leave her? No, there¡¯s a chance she survives this, and then I have made an enemy.

    I keep checking behind, but Lavagirl lets me walk away without interference or further discussion. Getting back to my truck while carrying Aubrey isn¡¯t an easy time. I have to repeatedly readjust my hold so she doesn¡¯t fall off of me. Once we¡¯re back, I gently put her in the passenger seat, buckle her in, and remove her helmet. Thankfully, hers isn¡¯t too difficult to take off, and I free her head with minimum effort. She¡¯s breathing normally, so she¡¯s just unconscious, not something worse. I need to bring her to a hospital and somehow discreetly leave her there. She¡¯ll have to forgive me after getting me involved in this awful night. But where to drop her off? Should I leave her at St. Augustine or here in Crimton? It¡¯s got to be St. Augustine; she¡¯ll be safer in New Farford with her mom.

    Before leaving, I want to steal some of the cash and drugs. Aubrey¡¯s secure and resting, so she won¡¯t mind waiting. My turtleneck looks worse for wear, so I switch it with the blue hoodie I keep in my truck. It¡¯s dirty and beat up; I have it for messy days. I put my thumbs through the holes in the sleeves and remove my helmet, hiding it underneath my shirt. Now, no one should associate me with the masked man from earlier. Hunch my back to appear shorter and keep one arm tucked in the other. Feign a limp and make slight sudden movements every so often. I want to appear suspicious, so I seem less suspicious. It¡¯s better if they think I¡¯m a junkie looking to pick up. Body language is one of the subconscious things we notice about other people. By masking my own, I can become a completely different person.

    I limp across the street and back to the scene of the fight. Everything is exactly as I left it. The fires are mostly snuffed out, and the scent of burnt plastic, blood, and gasoline fills my nose. The helmet protected me from the smell. Lee Daeshim¡¯s lifeless body is stuck in the cooled tar like a monument to the massacre. I step carefully around the few remaining fires and blackened body parts. I don¡¯t have a backpack, so I can only take what I can fit in my pockets. There¡¯s still a ton of drugs and cash everywhere. The bricks are probably my best bet. I grab ten bricks and put them into my shirt before tucking my shirt into my pants. That should hopefully prevent any of them from falling out as I move on to the cash. Hundreds are waiting to be taken, and I don¡¯t bother counting them as I stuff my pockets full of crumbled bills. I make sure only to grab the crisp, clean ones. I guess it¡¯s true that the cops don¡¯t involve themselves with the docks. Well, it makes all of this that much easier. I¡¯m covered in contraband when I get back to my truck.

    Aubrey looks about the same, and I grab my wallet and keys from their hiding place. I need to drop her off before I do anything. I arrived at the docks with nothing but Aubrey and her lack of a plan. And I am leaving with three new powers, three new personality pieces, ten kilos of cocaine, and several thousand dollars. The ride back to New Farford is silent and peaceful. The cool summer air feels nice and helps me ignore the scent of the docks that cover both of us. The thirty minutes go by quickly, and I¡¯m almost at St. Augustine. I place her helmet back on her; the laws require hospital staff to respect a Cape¡¯s anonymity. I assume they¡¯ll call the BNA, and then maybe Aubrey can use this as a springboard for her to join the Heroes¡¯ Union. They must have trial periods for younger, hopeful Neuvohumans who aren¡¯t ready to be full-fledged Capes. This is the best I can do for her without exposing myself to danger. If she tells anyone about me, I will have to get rid of her.

    Despite being a hospital, St. Augustine isn¡¯t all that busy. New Farford is a small rural town in New England and doesn¡¯t have the funding for external cameras. All I have to do is drop her off and then take the long way home. I slow down as I enter the parking lot and put my mask on. Hood up, mask on, and slouching, I lift Aubrey and walk toward the ER entrance. You never know if someone is recording. I take out Aubrey¡¯s phone and keep it on me. I¡¯ll use it to call the hospital and let them know about her. I place her on one of the smoking benches outside and walk back to my truck. Using her phone, I dial the hospital after taking my mask off.

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    ¡°Thank you for calling St. Augustine. If this is a medical emergency, dial one. If not, please hold for more options,¡¯ the automated messenger says.

    Pressing one, I wait to be directed. ¡°Hi, what¡¯s the emergency?¡±

    ¡°Hey, uh, I was just driving by, and I think there¡¯s someone unconscious outside the entrance. Think they might be hurt,¡± I say with a heavy fake accent.

    ¡°Hurt? Outside the hospital?¡± The nurse asks me.

    ¡°It was a female, and she looked banged up something fierce. Someone oughta help her.¡±

    I end the call and toss the phone into the nearby bushes. My tires squeal as I race out of the parking lot. I turn the radio on and take the scenic route back to my house, passing Guardian Ave, where the high school is, and taking Westchester Street. Westchester has these sets of oak trees dotting the sidewalk, and they curve out above you and barely let any moonlight in. Maria and I drove down this road after junior prom and discussed our dreams after high school. She wants to become a social worker and help people. Maria wants to become the adult she always needed as a kid¡ªsomeone who helps people in need.

    I waxed romantically about only needing her and a job that keeps me occupied. At least part of it was genuine. The end of the street lightly curves as I go by Richards Park. Maria and I had our first kiss at that park, under a night sky similar to tonight''s. I need to end things with her before I end up picking up an emotion that makes it more complicated. Through the lens of any other person, our relationship is incredible and enviable. Completely faithful, we¡¯ve never had any big arguments in the two years we¡¯ve dated. Is there a way to keep our relationship and still fulfill my goals? She can still be an asset, and after everything we¡¯ve been through, I owe it to her to try and make it work. I shelve those thoughts as I pull into my driveway.

    I turn the engine off and look up at my house. The lights are off, so I don¡¯t have to talk to Daniel and explain where I¡¯ve been. It¡¯s well past midnight, and my side is flaring again. I¡¯ve mentally drained my reserves, and I still have so much to do before I can sleep. I take off my shoes before entering the house. I don¡¯t know if they have blood on them yet. Carrying in my clothes and mask, I quietly sneak through the house to my room. I shut and lock my door; Daniel believes a teenager deserves privacy. All the money goes onto my desk to be counted later. The bricks and my mask go into an empty duffel bag and then under my bed. I need to find a buyer for those. Cash is more liquid than illegal stimulants. I don¡¯t know anything about prices; I need to do more research. I strip down to look at my clothes; nearly all have blood stains or tears. My shoes are in a similar state. I bring all of it into the shower and turn it on. The steaming hot water runs down my body and over my stuff, leaving a light pink trail down the drain. I strip down, leaving the clothes on the floor of the shower. I scrub and scrub until the threads on the turtleneck start to wear thin. After this, all of these clothes will go into the washing machine to get rid of all traces of DNA, and then I¡¯ll throw them all away. I gently wash my side, careful not to agitate the injury. It doesn¡¯t feel like broken ribs, but I¡¯m not a doctor.

    I dry myself off with a towel and walk over to my desk. I¡¯ll count the money now and then hide it somewhere. Uncrumpling the bills and running each one against my desk becomes meditative. Instead of thinking about the night, Maria, or anything else, I distract myself with repetitive motions. One after another, I zen out until I¡¯ve fixed them all. I managed to get a lot more than I thought I did. Three thousand dollars is not a small number. It is a good start for what I plan to do. After I finish counting, I start the research I¡¯ve been neglecting. I open up a browser to delve into the world of Neuvohumans. Hours fade as I hyper-focus on my task, and I only look at my phone once the sun has begun peeking through the shades.

    My eyes hurt from staring at the screen, but I¡¯m coming away from this all-nighter enlightened. My ego is not so fragile that I won¡¯t admit that my plans for the future were juvenile. Using my power to create chaos in the hopes of possible excitement was a stupid idea. Now, I better understand the way forward and the plight that plagues Cowls. They lose so often because of the organization of the Heroes¡¯ Union and the BNA. There are small-scale team-ups and crews, but no centralized group of power the way the Capes have the BNA and the board of the H.U. There are a lot of very powerful Cowls, but there¡¯s no unity or structure.

    I could provide that. My ability and intellect will allow me to do things correctly. I can run crime like a corporation. Cowls will either join my banner or be devoured and replaced. This world needs a shake-up to the status quo, and through it, I will make my own entertainment and excitement. Controlled chaos can be created to make more people trigger. More trigger events equals more Neuvohumans equals more personality pieces for me to take. I will butcher my way up and down the East Coast if it means I can finally experience emotions. I stand up from the desk and stretch my body out. Swiping up all the cash, I roll it up with a rubber band and put it in the duffel bag. While the framework of my new plan is there, the coming weeks will be busy as I figure out the finer details. My mind is as exhausted as my body is, and my inviting bed beckons. I trod over to it and collapse onto it.

 Chapter 15 - Unexpected

    I wake up, and agonizing pain rips through me as I try to get out of bed. My side is exceptionally tender, and the slightest graze makes me wince. I hobble over to the bathroom to take a look at the damage. Well, that is not good. My left side is a splattering of various shades of red and purple. Something is definitely broken. I¡¯m going to school to be an engineer, not a doctor, and I can still tell how bad this is. The discoloration of my skin looks like a child¡¯s painting. I¡¯m going to have to put everything else on hold, and I need to get to a doctor. I can¡¯t go to St. Augustine; it¡¯s too easy to connect the dots between Aubrey and me. Then people will wonder why I dumped her there instead of bringing her in myself. So I have to go to one farther away, like Crimton. I just left that place, and now I might have to go back.

    A knock at my door startles me. ¡°Gimme a second, Dad. I¡¯m just changing.¡± I rush out of the bathroom and quickly put on some jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. The fabric irritates my injury, but I can deal with it. I head to the door and open it, expecting my father. Instead of seeing him, Maria is standing there with a mischievous look. And there goes any chance of me seeing a doctor. I break into a smile and pull her into the doorway. What is she doing here?

    ¡°Hey, didn¡¯t know you were coming over. Must¡¯ve missed your text.¡±

    ¡°Well, since my boyfriend seems to be avoiding me, I figured I¡¯d just show up. I couldn¡¯t risk you escaping out the window,¡± she joked.

    She¡¯s disguising it as a joke, but she¡¯s clearly upset. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I couldn¡¯t tell something was wrong? She¡¯s been by my side for years and never caused me any problems. There needs to be a way for me to end things amicably without hurting her. She has been nothing short of a perfect partner. Should I get her a gift to thank her for the relationship? I have never broken up with anyone before.

    ¡°Sorry, just with losing over a month to unconsciousness, I¡¯m behind on pretty much everything. I still have a ton of stuff to get done for college and moving and, and, and.¡± I let out a sigh. ¡°And none of that is an excuse for being shitty and distant. Can you please find it in your gigantic heart to forgive me?¡±

    I¡¯ve practiced this tone that sits right between self-deprecating and genuine enough that it should be a pretty believable apology. She used humor to bring up a problem she has, so by reciprocating similarly, I can resolve the issue without it becoming an argument. Meet kindness with kindness and sincerity with sincerity. People appreciate it when you meet them halfway.

    Truthfully, I have been treating our relationship very poorly since the party. The emergence of my ability and now the creation of Nobody are far more alluring than playing house with Maria. If I¡¯m not careful, this could end our relationship. That¡¯s what I want, isn¡¯t it? To be freed to do whatever I want without having burdensome connections? Maria¡¯s value was in making Eryk Blakely appear normal, but Eryk Blakely¡¯s current rendition is coming to an end. I will radically change to fit my new life in Quinstin, becoming someone who doesn¡¯t need Maria. So the question becomes, is there any reason not to end this here and now? There isn¡¯t, but I owe her one last perfect day. I will break things off with her tonight and let Daniel know I want to move into my new place early.

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky the girl you¡¯re dating is gracious enough to forgive you. But you¡¯ll have to make it up to me somehow.¡±

    Her mischievous look from earlier is back, tinged with a promise of something more. I need to distract her. If we get intimate, I have no way to explain the bruises. And sex will only aggravate my injury. I get closer, kissing Maria¡¯s forehead before moving past her.

    ¡°I¡¯ll make it up to you. We¡¯ll spend the whole day together, just the two of us. Let¡¯s start with Dave¡¯s Diner for breakfast.¡±

    ¡°Eryk, it¡¯s one in the afternoon.¡±

    I was asleep for much longer than I thought. ¡°So, Dave¡¯s Diner for lunch then?¡±

    ¡°Sure, but you¡¯re paying. And I¡¯m getting dessert,¡± Maria said with a far-off look.

    She is probably thinking of what treat she wants. We head downstairs, and I see Daniel sitting on the couch, tapping away at his tablet with a stylus. He¡¯s pretty focused on it, so it must be work-related. My father can enter an almost manic-like state when he gets inspired. He won¡¯t even notice us leaving and probably didn¡¯t see Maria enter. Not that we need a third-wheel chaperone for the day.

    ¡°We can take my car since you¡¯re buying lunch. But you¡¯re driving,¡± Maria said, tossing me her keys. ¡°You¡¯re lucky I am so forgiving, thoughtful, and cute.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re all that and more. What could I have done in my past life to deserve you?¡±

    <hr>

    Dave¡¯s Diner has an old-school aesthetic that stands out even in a town that hasn¡¯t changed since before the emergence of Neuvohumans. The establishment was built out of four old retired train cars welded together, resulting in an extremely narrow and long restaurant. Everything is chrome and outlined with red and white stripes, from the walls to the booths and even the trays they serve the food on. The first two cars are for dining, and the back two are where the kitchen and storage are. It¡¯s a local joint that¡¯s busy enough to stay open despite never seating out-of-towners. Everything on the menu is a greasy mess, but with all the exercising I do, I can afford an occasional high-calorie feast.

    Maria¡¯s eyes are blissfully closed as she sips her chocolate milkshake across from me. The milkshakes always makes her happy, so our day-long date is off to a great start. I¡¯ve never understood everyone¡¯s love of sugar. I¡¯m entirely lacking any sort of sweet tooth. If I¡¯m going to eat something terrible for me, I prefer savory foods like the double bacon cheeseburger and fries I have in front of me. Maria¡¯s picking at her chicken tender basket while I inhale my food. Somethings on her mind. She just isn¡¯t sure how to bring it up. Does she know what I¡¯m planning on doing? It''s better to take control and outright ask her.

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    ¡°Hey, is everything okay?¡±

    Her eyes open at my words, and she stops sipping her drink to stare at me. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. It feels like you¡¯ve been pulling away from me day by day, and I don¡¯t know what I did wrong.¡±

    I need to nip this in the bud. ¡°No, that¡¯s not true. Things are just different ever since-¡±

    ¡°Let me finish, please. I know you¡¯re hurting after what happened at the party and then being hospitalized. But I was there too, trapped in a burning mansion, trying to get out after you left me in the basement. You didn¡¯t even ask how I¡¯m doing, and it¡¯s like you¡¯re just pretending none of it happened. I mean, we could¡¯ve both died back there. Ninety-nine percent of our class died that night. You aren¡¯t the only one who went through some shit,¡± she said.

    A few tears fall down the curvature of her cheeks, ruining the makeup she put on. She¡¯s not hysterically sobbing or making a scene, but I¡¯m thankful the diner is empty except for an elderly couple eating on the opposite end of the train car. I had no idea she would react this emotionally to my question. Why couldn¡¯t you have waited until we were in your car to do this? I didn¡¯t plan to have this conversation until the day was over. Why are you ruining my attempts at a clean and easy separation? She seems to be waiting for my response, so I¡¯ll switch this around on her.

    ¡°I¡¯m right here, so how can I be pulling away? I¡¯m sorry if my near-death experience has made you feel like I¡¯m being distant. I guess coming face-to-face with your own mortality can do that to you. You said we both could¡¯ve died, but only one of us ended up in the hospital in a coma. My head is still spinning, so forgive me for not immediately checking on you. I¡¯m trying my best here. Sorry if it isn¡¯t good enough.¡± Redirect it and make it seem like she¡¯s an asshole for even bringing it up. She should apologize and drop it so we can continue our date.

    ¡°You¡¯re twisting my words, Eryk. I¡¯m your girlfriend, not your enemy. But you¡¯re keeping things from me and neglecting our relationship. Whatever you¡¯ve got going on, you can talk to me.¡±

    ¡°Why are you making things up to try and start a fight? You¡¯re ruining our date. All I wanted was to spend some time with you, but now you¡¯re acting paranoid. I genuinely don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Deny her words and blame it on her feelings.

    ¡°We¡¯ve dated for over two years, and I know you better than anybody. Something else is going on. We¡¯ve never kept secrets from each other, so why are you lying to me? I love you, Eryk, and I¡¯m here for whatever you need. But don¡¯t look me in the eyes and lie to my face. After everything, I deserve better than that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not lying or hiding anything from you. You sound crazy, Maria,¡± I said. Double down and target her again.

    ¡°I am not crazy. I¡¯ve been trying to give you the opportunity to talk to me honestly since you got back, but it looks like you refuse to take it. Just tell me the truth; there¡¯s nothing you can say that would make me love you any less,¡± Maria said pleadingly.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you want me to say, babe. I can¡¯t materialize truth out of thin air,¡± I said. Deny, deny, deny. Use a hyperbolic statement to try to downplay her accusations. She should give up and apologize.

    ¡°I want you to talk to me. I¡¯m your girlfriend, and you¡¯re treating me like a stranger. Is there someone else? Is it Aubrey? Please tell me it isn¡¯t Aubrey.¡±

    She thinks I¡¯m cheating on her. And with Aubrey, of all people. I¡¯m trying to escape this relationship, not get into another one.

    ¡°I¡¯m not seeing anybody else, Maria. I would never cheat on you. Aubrey is just a friend, you know that.¡±

    ¡°I love you, Eryk, but I won¡¯t sit here and pretend everything is fine. I have too much respect for myself to let that happen,¡± Maria said.

    The tears are pouring down as she gets up and walks out. I look out the window and see her car pulling away. Wait, she¡¯s leaving me here? This wasn¡¯t how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to apologize for doubting me, and then everything would return to normal. We¡¯d see a movie and go shopping; I¡¯d buy her a necklace and then break up through text as I head to Quinstin on a Quickrail. This works just as well. I¡¯ll have more time to pack now. I signal the waitress over for the check. I need to get going if I want to make it home in less than twenty minutes. She puts the bill on the table but keeps her hand on it, prompting me to look at her.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, honey. Young love can be complicated and messy, but anything worth fighting for is,¡± the waitress said.

    I leave fifty on the table, far more than our meal was worth. It¡¯s good to tip well, and it¡¯ll make the waitress remember me as the boy who gave a huge tip, not as the boy who got into a public argument with his girlfriend. ¡°Thanks for the tip, and you can keep the change.¡±

    She picks up the money and waves at me with a smile. ¡°No. Thank you for the tip.¡±

    Dave¡¯s Diner is on the opposite end of town from my house. I stretch a bit before beginning a jog. I slowly ramp myself up until my side flares up, causing me to stop. Coughing and wheezing until I have to crouch down on the sidewalk. This can¡¯t wait much longer; it¡¯s getting hard to breathe. My injury will make the trip take me well over forty minutes, and that¡¯s if I¡¯m lucky and don¡¯t have to stop. As soon as I¡¯m home, I¡¯m packing and buying the Quickrail ticket.

    <hr>

    After my almost hour-long hike back home, I¡¯m exhausted and sweaty. My clothes are soaked through, and my hair is hanging over my face, sticking to my forehead. Everything physical is becoming more and more difficult. Even walking is causing me issues now. As I round the corner to home, I can see my red truck, my father¡¯s Jeep, and a pristine-looking white SUV parked in the driveway. It¡¯s a lot newer and nicer than my truck. Dad was working when I left, and his manic creative episodes usually last for hours. He wouldn¡¯t have invited anybody over. Who is at my house? Who¡¯s vehicle is that? It¡¯s nice. I want it.  A strange possessive greed for the SUV is filling me. Is this the effect of Daeshim¡¯s piece on my psyche? My ability is rewriting my brain chemistry on the fly, and there¡¯s no telling what the long-term effects are. I need to find a way to get some testing done. These personality chunks will be just like it was with Davis¡¯ rage. I need to recognize when someone else¡¯s urges or emotions affect me and clamp down on them. A steady head and hand are needed in life.

    I take a chance to catch my breath before heading to the door. I hear my father talking in the living room to someone while I take my shoes off. There¡¯s a pair of women¡¯s running shoes on the mat. The voice is feminine, but it doesn¡¯t sound like Maria or any other woman I know. I can¡¯t think of anyone who¡¯d be visiting right now. Daniel doesn¡¯t bring anyone from work around the house, and he¡¯s too lonely to have any friends. Regardless, I¡¯ll leave the man to whoever he¡¯s talking to. Sudden laughter halts my advance up the stairs. I haven¡¯t heard my father laugh in years, at least not in front of me¡ªno doubt it¡¯s related to me looking like my mother. There is not much to laugh at when you¡¯re reminded of your dead spouse by the mere sight of your offspring.

    ¡°Son, is that you? Come on in. Your friend from the hospital is here,¡± he yelled from the other room.

    Hospital friend? I didn¡¯t make any friends in the hospital. I don¡¯t know anyone from the hospital besides the three agents and Doctor Sol. A woman is here, eliminating the doctor and the man in the striped suit, but I can¡¯t imagine Agents Hale or Sigrid laughing. Whoever is in the house is lying about how they know me. Unless the person here isn¡¯t here for Eryk Blakely, they¡¯re here for Nobody. I slowly sneak back down the stairs and go to the kitchen. I grab a knife from the drawer and slide it up my sleeve. I am in no shape to fight anybody if this becomes a problem, but I¡¯d rather have a weapon on me in case.

    I approach the living room cautiously and with a carefree smile on my face. Whoever this is should be handled carefully. Deny everything, don¡¯t give anything away. There¡¯s no evidence tying Eryk to Nobody. Could it be a detective related to Aubrey? It can¡¯t be. It¡¯s been less than twelve hours since I left her at St. Augustine. So, I¡¯m back to square one. Think, my intellect is my greatest strength. To stop thinking is to die. Improvise and take control of the situation. I enter the room and see my dad sporting a nearly face-splitting smile, sitting on the couch across from someone who shouldn¡¯t be here, who can¡¯t possibly be here.

    ¡°Hey bud, I was just talking to Vivienne about what it was like at the hospital. I¡¯m glad to hear you were so kind to others. Makes me proud,¡± he said.

    How the fuck did Lavagirl find where I live?

 Chapter 16 - Recruitment Offer V2

    Sitting across from my father is a woman I never imagined I¡¯d be seeing so soon: Lavagirl. I¡¯d recognize that muscular frame and bright red hair anywhere. She¡¯s wearing similar athletic gear to the last time I saw her, and her hair is in a messy bun. I did too well with our first encounter. I hoped she would reach out, but I didn¡¯t think she would show up at my house. How did she find me? It doesn¡¯t matter. She wants something from me, or she wouldn¡¯t be here. If she just wanted to out me or kill me, I could have done nothing about it. If she¡¯s here and not burning the house down, then I can assume she comes in peace. The best plan is to go forward with this lie of hers until I can speak to her alone. I scoot beside my father on the couch and turn toward one of the most dangerous Neuvohumans I¡¯ve ever seen.

    ¡°Hey, Vivienne, I must have missed your text saying you were in town,¡± I said.

    ¡°Yeah, we always talked about meeting up after we got out and after Daeshim got discharged yesterday. I thought I¡¯d hit you up, and we''d get the whole gang together,¡± she lied.

    What is she playing at? What is the angle with this meeting? Referencing Daeshim in an attempt to provoke a reaction is pointless. I¡¯ve spent years mastering a poker face; two can play this game. ¡°I¡¯m happy to see you. You were such an impulsive hothead back then, and it¡¯s good to see that you haven¡¯t changed.¡±

    My joke makes her burst out laughing. ¡°See, this is why I like you, man. There¡¯s Nobody like you. And it¡¯s great to meet you finally, Mr. Blakely. Eryk always spoke so highly of you,¡± she said.

    ¡°Thank you, but I¡¯m sure you kids want to catch up, so I¡¯ll leave you alone,¡± my father said.

    As soon as he¡¯s out of earshot, I turn to look at her, mask dropping from my face. Face to face with a woman that beat the brakes off Daeshim, anyone else might be scared, but I¡¯m not. In a fight, I¡¯m worth less than her pinky toe, but this is a battle of wits, and you are not my equal. You might¡¯ve entered Eryk Blakely¡¯s house, but you¡¯re dealing with Nobody.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Why what?¡± She asked coyly.

    ¡°Cut the jokes; why are you at my house?¡± Is she close enough for me to stab her?

    ¡°Cause you¡¯re interesting,¡± she replied.

    ¡°And that¡¯s enough of a reason to track me down, enter my home, and threaten my family?¡± I asked. There has to be an ulterior motive.

    ¡°Woah, your dad¡¯s not in any danger. But yeah, I came here ''cause you¡¯re interesting,¡± she said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. She can¡¯t be this simple. Tracking down a stranger and showing up to their house because they¡¯re interesting is insane.

    ¡°What do you actually want from me, Vivienne?¡± Her way of thinking is unlike anyone I¡¯ve observed. Does she know what I took from Daeshim? Better to play it close to the vest and not give any unnecessary information.

    ¡°I¡¯m a simple girl who just loves fighting. Always have been. Always will be. The feelings I get from pitting myself against another skilled fighter are unlike anything I¡¯ve ever experienced. It¡¯s like electricity coursing through me and the only time I truly feel alive. I crave adrenaline pumping through my system as I prove my dominance. Nothing I¡¯ve tried can replicate the excitement I get from combat, ¡± Vivienne said.

    She¡¯s a battle junkie. She¡¯s so upfront to the point that she might genuinely be here just because of curiosity.

    ¡°And you think I can give you a good fight? I¡¯m afraid I¡¯d disappoint you in that department,¡± I answered. I might be able to turn this chance encounter into a windfall. No, I will. If the universe continues to show me favor, I will continue to prove I deserve it.

    ¡°No. Dude, I¡¯d mop the fucking floor with you. You showed off no visible powers of any kind and were definitely the weakest Neuvohuman there. And somehow, despite all the chaos last night, you seem to have gotten out of no worse for wear. I¡¯ve never met you before, so I did some digging. When I used my connection to find you, I also asked about Nobody. And according to them, Nobody doesn¡¯t exist. So either you¡¯ve been working from the shadows for years, or that was your first outing as a Cowl. Given your age and relatively recent trigger event, the latter is what I¡¯m thinking. That means in your first appearance, you helped destroy two gangs completely.¡±

    The jokes are gone. She¡¯s staring at me with an intensity that is making me wary. The weight of the situation fills the room. I misjudged her. She isn¡¯t as simple as I thought. I lean back into the couch and grin, my face mirroring the intensity of her own.

    ¡°You¡¯re quite the detective. I¡¯m not surprised to hear about the demise of the gangs. They were terribly unorganized and suffered terrible losses on both sides.¡±

    ¡°You say that like you had nothing to do with that,¡± she said.

    ¡°I could say the same for you,¡± I countered. Is she trying to get me to admit to a crime?

    ¡°Fair enough, we both played a role in what went down. But with my employer being dead, I¡¯m between jobs. You got anything going on?¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°You don¡¯t seem too broken up about whatshisname. It was something Italian, right? Antonio, Luca, or was it Leonardo?¡± I asked, feigning ignorance.

    ¡°Gio, but somehow, I doubt that you forgot that. We weren¡¯t friends or anything. He just hired me for an odd job here and there. I only agreed to it last night because he told me I¡¯d get to fight Lee Daeshim. I¡¯m sure he planned to betray the Dragons even before you and the bumblebee showed up. Also, don¡¯t dodge the question. There is no shot that you did all of that and don¡¯t have something bigger planned.¡±

    Am I in a position to refuse her? If she decides to transform, there isn¡¯t anything I can do. I don¡¯t have a gun, and I doubt the knife will do anything. I am losing ground here. I cannot let her force me to recruit her. If she is going to join me, it has to be on my terms.

    ¡°Maybe I have something in the works. Before we talk business, I am dying to know, how did you find me?¡±

    ¡°I saw someone sneaking around after Nobody left, stealing drugs and money. I followed them back to a red truck with a girl who looked like she¡¯d seen better days. I snapped a pic of your license plate and went to my contact with it. It didn¡¯t take them long to find all your info¡ªone of the victims of the New Farford Massacre. Makes sense someone would awaken amongst all that tragedy. It didn¡¯t exactly take Sherlock Holmes to solve this one. Cowl tip number one, don¡¯t use a vehicle registered in your name to commit crimes,¡± she said.

    That was such a stupid amateur mistake. If she had been less curious and more vengeful, I¡¯d be dead already.

    ¡°Also, if anonymity is such a big deal to you, don¡¯t go back to the site of a recent Neuvohuman fight as a civilian. Regular people avoid those, so it¡¯s automatically suspicious for someone to be snooping around,¡± she stated.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take that advice into consideration.¡±

    ¡°You should. Most Cowls don¡¯t share my temperament and personality. Now what kind of job we talking about? You wanna hit a bank or something?¡± Vivienne asked me.

    ¡°Nothing so pedestrian. I have much grander goals, but who said that they include you?¡±

    ¡°Alright, don¡¯t play so hard to get. I saw Daeshim swat the insect, so you¡¯re out of backup until she¡¯s healed. You need muscle, and I¡¯m out of a job, whattaya say to working together for a bit?¡±

    She¡¯s quite perceptive. There are worse things than hiring her as a minion. Pros are getting a meatshield that can fight off other Neuvohumans and the raw intimidation factor her other form gives off. Cons are she betrays me at some point for some minor gain and she figures out what my ability actually is. It isn¡¯t like I really have a choice, though.

    ¡°I¡¯m not opposed to it, but what kind of relationship do you share with this contact of yours? Personal? Professional? Contractual?¡±

    ¡°None of the above. More like they owe me. I¡¯ve got dirt on them and use it to squeeze them for information occasionally,¡± Vivienne responded.

    ¡°They need to die immediately. After that, we can start laying the groundwork for my plan.¡±

    ¡°Do we really need to kill them?¡±

    ¡°Yes. All it takes is them putting two and two together about the two inquiries you made, and everything comes crashing down. You may not care about anonymity, but I do. And I will not let loose ends jeopardize anything,¡± I said.

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°I don¡¯t really care about my contact either way. But let¡¯s talk splits,¡± Vivienne said. ¡°I¡¯m feeling generous, so we can do 50/50 even.¡±

    ¡°That sounds acceptable.¡± It doesn¡¯t matter to me what the splits are. I am not planning on this being a long partnership. ¡°But if this is going to work, you need to forget my name and face. I am Nobody, and that¡¯s all you know.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep your secrets safe, Nobody. And I only have one condition to working together¡ªno harming kids. I¡¯m not joking about this. If you hurt a child, I will burn you from the inside out. I will not budge on this.¡±

    Her demand is doable. If a child has a power I want, I can take it and leave the kid alone. There is nothing that would be worth the chance of her cooking me. ¡°My plans have nothing to do with children. If that is your only demand, then I just need to grab something from upstairs, and then we can go,¡± I said.

    ¡°Got it, but we should take my car. It¡¯s clean and is registered under a fake name.

    I climb the stairs to my room; I¡¯m going to need my helmet. I should change into something more fitting for nightly activities. Just removing my shirt causes me immense pain, and I have to bite my tongue to prevent myself from yelling. I awkwardly jump around as I try to take off my pants. The amount of noise I¡¯m making causes someone to jiggle my doorknob. Vivienne comes through the door to ask me what¡¯s taking so long. Why does no one respect a closed door? I couldn¡¯t have been in here for more than ten minutes. She finds me shirtless and with my pants on the floor.

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s a nasty bruise you got going there. You get that last night?¡± She asked while inhaling through her teeth. ¡°That looks fucking terrible. You gotta get that checked out. Don¡¯t worry. I know a guy who can get you all fixed up. He¡¯s an odd fella, but he¡¯s discreet and very good. He¡¯ll want to be paid upfront, but he¡¯s your best bet of getting that looked at with no questions. We can go there before we go after my contact.¡±

    I will have to use the money I stole to pay him. It''s a minor setback. I continue getting dressed as Vivienne speaks about the man we¡¯d have to see. Today¡¯s outing shouldn¡¯t result in me ruining another set of clothes. This time, I put on black joggers and a darker crewneck. I¡¯ll probably sweat a ton, but it¡¯s better than showing skin. I put on my boots and grab my clothes from last night. I¡¯ll have Vivienne burn them once we leave town. I leave my phone and wallet at home; I¡¯ve learned from my mistake with the truck. Putting my mask and money into a backpack, I follow her to her car. I didn¡¯t notice before, but her windows are completely tinted black. I climb into the back seat and press the button on my mask, transforming it into a helmet.

    ¡°Hey. What kind of ability do you have? I¡¯ve been curious since you left. Whatever it is isn¡¯t flashy. I assume you¡¯re a Mentalist because whatever you did to him made him give up. He fought me for so long, but then you did your thing, and something died inside him. He wouldn¡¯t have died if you hadn¡¯t done whatever you did to him. You didn¡¯t kill him, but you killed his will to live,¡± she said, pulling out of my driveway.

    Nobody is confident, charismatic, and professional. ¡°It¡¯s a secret, obviously. Surprise is necessary for it to be most effective.¡±

    ¡°Jeez, I can¡¯t get over how creepy you sound with that helmet. Like a bunch of ghosts arguing over each other. But, fine, I¡¯ll let you keep your secrets,¡± she remarked.

    As we¡¯re driving down my street toward the highway, we pass a black SUV. I think that was Maria. I don¡¯t have time for her currently; there are too many things to do. I can¡¯t afford to waste brainpower and time trying to reconcile this manufactured relationship that has reached the end of its usefulness. Either she gets over it, and I¡¯ll continue the facade for a while longer, or we just end it.

    Vivienne doesn¡¯t make any small talk during the drive. It allows me to collect my thoughts and think about what must be done. I need to find some expendable transients to experiment on. How many abilities can I put in someone? Is there a limit? Can I give abilities to someone who already has one? So many questions that need answering. I don¡¯t pay any attention to where we¡¯re going while lost in my head, and I only become aware of my surroundings when Vivienne tells me we¡¯re here. It¡¯s a rundown strip mall off the path¡ªthe kind of place with seven or eight stores that barely stay afloat. In this case, the whole place is abandoned and looks like it hasn¡¯t seen business in years. Some of the shops look ransacked and destroyed, while the others have their windows and doors boarded up.

    The parking lot has three other vehicles: a white contractor van, a bright red lowrider with black flames, and a Tesla Model X. It¡¯s rare to see one of those; they got recalled after the car¡¯s AI failed and drove into a group of kids on a field trip. That killed the market for AI-driven vehicles and is why Tinkertech is so heavily regulated. Even if a Tinkerer has a specialty that can improve people¡¯s lives, the BNA and the government fight tooth and nail to control the spread and influence of technology. It¡¯s what I would do. No, It¡¯s what I will do. Any technological advances I gain through stealing powers will become closely guarded secrets that only benefit me. Vivienne parks the car before she addresses me.

    ¡°Heads up, Nobody, this doctor has a lot of Tinkertech. He¡¯s not a Neuvohuman, but it doesn¡¯t mean he isn¡¯t dangerous. He¡¯s got some weird rules. You¡¯ll see them on the door.¡±

    ¡°No problem. Are you coming in?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll come in just in case. Wouldn¡¯t want my new partner to die.¡±

    ¡°Where are we, by the way?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re about thirty minutes away from Breeton,¡± Vivienne answered.

    I can¡¯t believe I lost track of time that badly. That¡¯s nearly two hours from New Farford. And it¡¯s in the opposite direction of Crimton. If this had been some sort of long con, I could¡¯ve been abducted and imprisoned. The only benefit of her being so powerful is that she doesn¡¯t need to bother with plotting. I grab my bloody clothes from my bag and ask her if she can incinerate them for me. We both get out of the car, and she quickly transforms into her obsidian form. Just by being in her hands, my clothes catch fire immediately and quickly become scattered ash. She changes back to her regular self and leads me to what used to be a laundromat.

    The glass door has been painted black, except for the three rules written on it. Rule one is no violence inside the building. The second rule is payments are made upfront and in full. The third and final rule is taking your shoes off at the door. What an eclectic set of rules. They have nothing to do with each other. The rules someone puts in place say a lot about the person who made them. So, this illegal doctor is someone who values their own space and time as well as cleanliness. They¡¯re professional and to the point.

    I open the door, and Vivienne follows me inside. The first thing I notice is that all the washers and dryers have been ripped out. The left wall is demolished and has a curtain hanging as a divider. Above the hole in the wall is a sign that says operating room spray painted in red. I can hear what sounds like power tools coming from behind the curtain. The rest of the room is mostly those crappy red cushioned chairs you see in doctor''s offices that they buy in bulk. To the right of the entrance is a mat with shoes on it. Four pairs are already on it, so I remove my boots, and Vivienne does the same.

    After we take our shoes off, I see the two patients ahead of me. The first is a bald Latino man covered in tattoos. I¡¯d estimate him to be in his mid to late twenties. He¡¯s wearing a white tank top, grey shorts, and work boots. His face is tattooed to look like a skull, and he has subdermal implants to make his face more skeletal. His right arm is bent at an off-angle and looks incredibly painful. How hard do you bend an arm to make it do that? It could be an effective information-gathering technique, considering it¡¯s not a debilitating or life-threatening attack. I should ask him how it happened before we leave.

    The other would-be patient is stranger looking than the skeleton man. It¡¯s a white woman wearing a skintight leather suit that covers her neck and the bottom half of her face. The suit has pouches and straps all over it. Given the few wrinkles I can see on her face, she''s at least forty. She has a large scar across her forehead and a blonde pixie cut. Unlike the man, she has no visible injury to tell me why she¡¯s here. Her eyes are quite expressive; she¡¯s glaring daggers at me and Vivienne. Something about us seems to have set her off. Based on her outfit, I assume she¡¯s a Cowl¡ªa perfect chance to gain another ability. I bet I can goad her into attacking us. Vivienne said she loves fighting, so I¡¯ll give her the opportunity.

    ¡°What are you looking at?¡± The voice changer makes both of them tense up, but the woman doesn¡¯t answer. ¡°I asked you a question. Do we have a problem?¡±

    Somehow, the woman gets even angrier. Does she not realize that I¡¯m egging her on for a reason? She¡¯s letting her emotions dictate her actions, and it will lead to her death. The smart thing to do would be to ignore me. The woman mumbles something angrily. Vivienne is standing next to me, watching everything unfold.

    ¡°If you¡¯ve got an issue, then speak up. We can¡¯t hear you cause of your sex suit mask thing,¡± Vivienne said sharply. She really does love fighting.

    The rules state that there is no violence inside the building; you just have to move the person you want to hurt outside. The woman stands up to face us. The excitement is back, and I feel alive. A glance at Vivienne, and she¡¯s itching for this fight. This woman has no idea how strong Vivienne is. She walks closer until she¡¯s right in front of us and snaps her fingers. Every sound disappears after her snap: the power tools, the buzzing of the lights, even my voice. Think quickly and clearly, Eryk. I can confirm that she is a Neuvohuman, and her ability is sound-related. Is it just sound-dampening, or are there other aspects to it? If that is all she can do, then we have nothing to worry about. I look over, and Skullface hasn¡¯t moved. Good. There won¡¯t be any interference.

    The lack of sound is disorientating and seems even worse for Vivienne. She keeps trying to talk, and nothing comes out of her mouth. While Vivienne and I adjust to the eerie stillness caused by the Cowl, she swings at me, and I step out of the way. She adjusts and tries to leg-sweep Vivienne. She¡¯s prepared for this and dodges the woman¡¯s attack before bringing her foot down on the outstretched leg. The woman¡¯s power prevents us from hearing her cry out in pain as my companion shatters bone beneath her boot. Her hateful eyes have become fearful as she realizes she is not the predator but the prey. Vivienne drags her outside by her damaged leg and throws her onto the sidewalk. I put my boots on and follow the two women outside.

    The silencing power has continued outside the makeshift hospital, so it¡¯s not room-based. It could be a certain radius around her body or based on the area around the initial snap. Well, I¡¯ll know shortly. There¡¯s a disconnect caused by the quiet that makes the brutal beatdown I¡¯m watching seem fake. It¡¯s similar to watching a movie but up close. Vivienne punches her in the gut and picks her up before slamming her into the ground on her back. The woman favors one leg, and Vivienne keeps targeting it with jabs and kicks. The excitement I felt when the woman first stood up is gone now. There is no danger to me, and Vivienne didn¡¯t even have to shift into her other form. How disappointing. I¡¯ll put your ability to far better use than you ever could.

    My ears pop, bringing my attention back to the wet thud of Vivienne''s knuckles connecting to the other woman''s face. The face covering is down around her neck, and she looks terrible after the beating. Two black eyes, a broken nose, and her bottom lip is split in two as blood leaks out of her whole face. The pummeling must have knocked her out and caused her power to shut off. So, the ability is dependent on the user remaining conscious. I have to remember to ask Vivienne how Shifting works after we leave. She needs a codename as well. I cannot call her by her real name when we are out.

    ¡°Pathetic. Don¡¯t start shit you can¡¯t finish,¡± Vivienne said while kicking her in the chest.

    The woman mumbles something. So she isn¡¯t unconscious. Vivienne leans closer to hear her, and the woman¡¯s right arm twitches. She shakily raises her bruised hand and snaps her fingers. As soon as the snap finishes, thunder strikes with a resounding boom. Blood explodes out of Vivienne¡¯s ears, and even with my helmet, my ears are ringing. I try to speak to Vivienne, but she can¡¯t hear me. She¡¯s wobbling in place, holding her head in pain. I¡¯ll need to finish this. I leisurely walk up to the woman who¡¯s cackling on the ground. The split lip and missing teeth distort her smile.

    ¡°Looks like I broke her. Oops,¡± she said while coughing blood.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± I asked. My question confuses her, and she can¡¯t figure out why I¡¯m asking. She doesn¡¯t answer, so I grab her right hand and immediately snap her pinky. She snarls in pain, and I repeat my question. She has good pain tolerance. Unfortunately, this will make it take longer. I do not revel in bloodshed; I am but a man using the tools best suited for the occasion. Her curses and threats are ignored. I don¡¯t care about anything other than my task and her potential answer. I fall into a rhythm of asking and snapping, but she doesn¡¯t break, unlike her fingers.

    ¡°I¡¯m out of fingers, so what¡¯s next on the menu?¡± Her words are slurred and sloppy due to her injuries.

    I place my hand against her forehead and activate my power. I don¡¯t speak during the five minutes. Nothing she can say or do at this point would make me stop. Blame your luck that you had the misfortune of meeting me. I¡¯m sure I¡¯d see the same terror as the man I shot if her eyes weren''t swollen shut. Our powers make us special, and I¡¯m removing what separates her from the chaff. She¡¯s screaming bloody murder as I feel her power nestled inside me. The other gift she gave me is one I never imagined I¡¯d ever experience: joy. The feeling is overwhelming me. It¡¯s like my body is filled with carbonated bubbles threatening to spill over.

    I pick the woman up and lay her down on her stomach with her head near the raised sidewalk. She¡¯s too weak to fight back, a combination of Vivienne¡¯s assault and me robbing her. I¡¯m forced to get blood and saliva on my fingers as I forcibly open her mouth and place it against the curb. I need to buy a new pair of gloves. She¡¯s sobbing as she realizes what I will do to her. I place my boot against the back of her head and slowly push into it. Let¡¯s test your pain tolerance. The giddy sensation only grows as I push harder. The dirt and sand from the curb mix with her blood to make her screams unintelligible. I increase the pressure until her cheeks tear open, then pull my boot off. One hard kick ends her suffering and her life. Walking over to Vivienne, I realize I¡¯m smiling so much it hurts. A sudden influx of a previously unknown emotion is making me enjoy this. I¡¯m so happy I can finally be happy.

 Chapter 17 - Doctors Visit

    I wipe my boots on the dead woman¡¯s back and check on my minion. She¡¯s unconscious and bleeding out of her nose and ears. Should I take her power and leave? She might just die if I leave her here. Then the only person who knows Eryk Blakely is Nobody is gone. Except I don¡¯t know her contact is or where to find them. I cannot let her die here. The least I can do is gain some assurance for my safety. I crouch next to the downed Vivienne and start taking her power.

    The moment I finish absorbing the power, I start transferring it back to her. She¡¯s a fighter and strong-willed; holding her ability hostage from her would only make sure she never tells me what I want to know. Giving her power back ensures that I can always know where she is, meaning she cannot sneak up on me ever again¡ªthe added benefit of being able to take her power back if she ever betrays me.

    I need to wake Vivienne up so she can shift. When I took Vivienne¡¯s power, I saw its quirks laid bare to me. A Shifter ability where she becomes a huge woman made of obsidian, and her insides change to become extreme temperatures. Whatever she is wearing transforms into a similar material as her skin and shares in its flame resistance. In that form, she gradually gets hotter unless she disperses the heat in an attack she didn¡¯t use when fighting Daeshim. She¡¯s extremely durable and heals when she transforms; however, it doesn¡¯t work in reverse. Any injuries she sustains while enflamed remain when she changes back to human, which could worsen the injury depending on the size. All I need to do is wake her up, and she¡¯ll be good to go. Her ability is incredible it is even more powerful than I originally thought.

    After tonight, I need to sit down and flesh out my plan beyond vague ideas. I¡¯ve been reactive to everything that¡¯s happened to me when I need to be proactive. Nothing truly great was ever created by accident. I¡¯ll write a list with clear goals and the precise steps needed to accomplish them. I need to start making money since this doctor¡¯s visit will set me back to being broke. If necessary, I can put off my own treatment. It all depends on the cost. Wait, the dead woman must have money to pay for the doctor. I walk to the dead woman and start going through the pouches that dot her suit. Most of them contain crumbled wads of small bills. I seemed to have killed a common thief wielding a decent power incorrectly. Every Neuvohuman I¡¯ve taken an ability from has been thoroughly underutilizing it. Except for Lee Daeshim, that man was a shark content to wallow in a tiny pond. He could¡¯ve been a major power in any metropolitan area instead of just another Crimton gang leader. What a complete waste.

    My corpse robbing nets me only five hundred and seventy-two dollars and a small knife. Vivienne¡¯s breathing and pulse are both normal. Her eardrums are burst, so I¡¯ll rouse her up the only way I can imagine. I nudge her firmly, but she doesn¡¯t wake up¡ªtime for plan B. I lean back and deliver a smack to her cheek. The sound of my hand hitting her face echoes in the dark, empty parking lot. Her eyes shoot open in anger but soften once she sees it¡¯s me. Vivienne pushes off the ground and transforms. Her skin begins to glow as her hair bursts into fire. Her body starts to grow as chunks of her flesh become obsidian until the transformation finishes. The changes were fast, probably completed in less than twenty seconds. That puts her on the quicker end of the spectrum regarding Shifters. Vivienne is meant to be the muscle and she lost to a petty thieving weakling.

    ¡°What the hell was that?¡± I asked.

    She doesn¡¯t answer me, staring at the ground. Now I know why she¡¯s been used as an enforcer-for-hire for drug peddlers and gangsters; she¡¯s a reckless meathead. She was so confident about being back up and went down so pitifully.

    ¡°It¡¯s unacceptable. Why didn¡¯t you change immediately? Why did you waste time fighting her without your power?¡±

    ¡°Because it would¡¯ve been over too quickly. I¡¯m clearly the better fighter. I would¡¯ve won if she hadn¡¯t used her ability,¡± Vivienne said.

    Is she stupid? Based on what I¡¯ve read and know about her power, Vivienne must be a tier-five Shifter. Under no circumstances should she lose to anyone who isn¡¯t top-tier. Her hubris will be the end of her life and my aspirations if I can¡¯t bring it to heel.

    ¡°You said you¡¯re looking for fights that will challenge you, but you can¡¯t even beat this no-name random woman. You are far too powerful to lose to people this,¡± I said, pointing to the dead woman. ¡°You claim you¡¯re the better fighter, then prove it. I am an understanding person, but failure due to incompetence is unacceptable. You said I owed you for what happened with Gio, but you¡¯re looking more and more like a liability. If you can¡¯t hold up your end of our partnership, then I will leave you and find someone who can. Get rid of your ego before it kills you.¡±

    To her credit, she looks embarassed, shameful even. I leave her in the parking lot and head back inside. I remove my boots and take a seat, waiting my turn. Across from me, the skull man is attempting to sneak glances at me. My helmet¡¯s design makes it impossible to tell if I¡¯m looking at someone, so he has no idea I¡¯m aware of his gaze. I don¡¯t believe he¡¯s a Neuvohuman, and I¡¯m not up for any more fighting tonight. We¡¯ll have to visit Vivienne¡¯s informant on a different night. I can¡¯t be out till the early morning again. Is he afraid of me, or does he want something? My breathing is harsher, and the pain is getting unmanageable. This doctor better be all he¡¯s cracked out to be.

    Vivienne stays outside for over forty minutes while I wait to be seen. When she enters, she looks different, and not just because she¡¯s back to human. It¡¯s subtle, but her eyes are more determined, and she walks with a hardened focus. Good, Vivienne¡¯s heeding my words. If she can¡¯t, then I¡¯ll gift her power to another. Vivienne joins me, and we wait for another two hours before the sounds from the operating room cease. The curtain moves, and two men walk out of it. The first is an older black man with dreads and a thick beard. His left pant leg is ripped off, and bandages are wrapped around his thigh. Besides his pants, he¡¯s not wearing anything else, and hundreds of healed wounds and scars mar his body. Whoever the man is, he has seen combat, and a lot of it. Even fresh off of surgery, I can tell he¡¯s dangerous. His face betrays nothing, and the man is a professional.

    The person who follows could not be more different. Where the other man is tall, muscular, and secure, the doctor is eccentric-looking. I had pictured an older man with graying hair and a lab coat. Instead, it¡¯s a twenty-something Asian man with spikey green-tipped pink hair and tons of piercings. His eyebrows, lips, and nose each have multiple gold pieces. A set of goggles covers his eyes, and I can see words projected on each lens. Besides that, he¡¯s wearing a tight-fitting, sleeveless, white v-neck and bright cyan pants. His Jordans have pearlescent yellow accents and not a single smudge or scuff on them. He looks nothing like a doctor, but this isn¡¯t exactly a licensed hospital. He looks around, lingering on Vivienne and me before moving on.

    ¡°You¡¯re all set, Mr. Cain. Thank you for your business, and I hope to see you again,¡± the doctor said.

    So the serious guy is called Cain. Now, is it an alias or his real name? Do other people struggle to keep track of all the aliases? Separating Cowl and Civilian identities comes easily to me. I¡¯ve never thought of myself as Eryk Blakely, and Nobody is just another mask I created. Deep down, I¡¯m like a whiteboard. No matter what I write on it, I can always erase it and start over. But bit by bit, I¡¯ll steal portions of people¡¯s personalities until I have enough puzzle pieces to assemble an identity. Cain nods and walks by us without saying a word. The doctor clears his throat before addressing everyone.

    ¡°Alright, who was next?¡±

    The skeletal man is staring at me, waiting for my response. I can see him swallowing nervously. After what happened to the last person, he''s afraid to challenge me¡ªno need to worry. I¡¯ve had enough excitement for tonight. I¡¯m too tired to cause any problems. He makes no effort to speak up, so I stand up and wave. The doctor smiles and beckons me to follow him.

    The room beyond the curtain is both chaotic and clinical. There¡¯s a stainless steel operating table in the middle and small drains all over the floor. The peripheral of the room has boxes upon boxes piled all over. They all have dubious labels like ¡°toxic¡± and ¡°good juice.¡± Large mechanical arms with lights, drills, and other attachments hang from the ceiling. The floor is slightly wet, and I can see blood around the drains. Metal carts with scalpels, power tools, and jars of glowing liquids dot the room. The operating room is a coordinated mess with all this machinery, but it looks like Vivienne wasn¡¯t kidding; the doctor has Tinkertech. Instead of calming me down, this makes me more hesitant. Tinkertech is dangerous and unpredictable. I¡¯m going to have to relinquish myself to a stranger. Put my well-being in their hands.

    ¡°Sit on the table and tell me what you¡¯re here for,¡± he said.

    I follow his instructions and gingerly sit down. The table is raised, and getting onto it sends pain up through me.

    ¡°I was out climbing a tree and fell,¡± I answered.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°Oooh, spooky voice changer. I¡¯m sure it was a totally normal accident,¡± he said while doing an exaggerated wink. ¡°Lift your shirt and let me see.¡±

    He puts on a pair of black rubber gloves as I lift my shirt. His touch is cold against my side, but he¡¯s careful with the pressure. The doctor leans in as he prods me, and I can feel his breath against my skin. The sensation is ticklish, and I can hear him muttering under his breath about a break. A snap from him causes one of the mechanical arms to move. It has a black screen surrounded by a thin blue frame. The arm moves the screen to hover between his face and my chest. It repeatedly flickers before turning on, and he moves it over the bruised area. He nods and makes some other off sounds, compelling me to ask.

    ¡°What¡¯s the verdict?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Hmmm. Well, two things. One, your helmet is sick as fuck. The way it seems to absorb light instead of reflecting it is fascinating. I¡¯m a big fan of Tinkertech and would love to add it to my collection. We can discuss price or trade. Second, what¡¯s your workout plan look like? You¡¯re like toned as hell. I just can¡¯t ever find the motivation to work out to put on muscle.¡±

    His nonchalant attitude and terrible professionalism are catching me off guard. Is he fucking with me? Maybe I should have Vivienne squish him after I¡¯m done.

    ¡°I meant about my injury,¡± I said.

    ¡°Oh yeah. You got a couple of broken ribs, but there¡¯s no internal bleeding.

    One of the ribs is pressing against your lungs, so I want to go in and set that correctly. It should be a quick little fix, and then you¡¯ll be good to go. Would you rather be awake or take a small nap?¡±

    ¡°Awake and no drugs.¡± I can¡¯t risk passing out or saying something sensitive while under the influence.

    ¡°Okay, Boy Scout. I kind of feel like you have trust issues, but whatever. Lay on your side, take off your shirt, and let''s get you opened up,¡± he said, pitching his voice higher.

    He is every bit as eccentric as Vivienne said. If he always acts like this, it¡¯s a wonder someone hasn¡¯t killed him. It¡¯s a testament to his skill. I peel my shirt off carefully and lay down on my uninjured side. Out of my peripheral, I see a syringe in his hand full of a bright blue liquid. What the heck is that? I voice my question to the doctor as the syringe approaches my side.

    ¡°It¡¯s just a novocaine that I added food coloring to. It makes it cooler and more mad sciencey. Don¡¯t worry about it¡¯s safe,¡± he said.

    Every person involved with Neuvohumans is insane. Quinstin will have even more characters like this guy. In fact, it will be worse due to being a metropolitan city and one of the largest population centers in the state. Maybe it¡¯s an act to put people off-kilter and maintain a quirky facade. Vivienne warned me that he¡¯s dangerous, but that woman earlier was a danger to her, so she isn¡¯t the best judge. He¡¯s an example of the benefits of having a well-known reputation. Before I realize it, the doctor injects me. He walks around the table, and I hear him moving things around and clanging metal objects behind me.

    ¡°Hey, do you know what blood type you are?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m O positive,¡± I replied.

    ¡°Perfect. Would you be interested in donating to my supply? It¡¯ll reduce your fee for today,¡± he asked.

    ¡°Not at all.¡± I am not letting anyone, let alone a criminal doctor, store my DNA anywhere.

    ¡°So selfish. But I forgive you. Now, try not to move at all. You shouldn¡¯t feel anything, but let me know if the novocaine starts to wear off. Neuvohuman abilities can affect the metabolic rate of your body in interesting ways. We can, of course, circumvent this by you telling me what your ability or abilities are,¡± he said jokingly, but his smile says otherwise. It is a seemingly harmless proposal, but that knowledge combined with what he has here could be lethal.

    ¡°Nice try, but I never said I was a Neuvohuman. Enough fucking around. Let¡¯s get this over with.¡± I¡¯ve had enough of his games and jokes. He needs to stop trying to be cute and just fix my ribs.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t we testy? Fine, keep your blood and your secrets,¡± he said.

    He brings out a cart with various instruments on it with him. A blood bag on a hook ending with an IV is attached to the cart. His right hand no longer has a glove, and his left holds a scalpel. His goggles are off, and he¡¯s wearing a black rubber butcher¡¯s apron. The uncovered right arm moves slightly as segmented lines appear across the skin. Each finger separates in two as the arm unravels to show metallic chrome machinery and various circuits. The result is ten individually moving spider-leg-like limbs, each thinner than a pencil and longer than a chef¡¯s knife. All of them are protruding from the base of his elbow. Well, I¡¯m not the only one with secrets.

    ¡°Your mask hides your face, but I can feel you stare at my prosthetic. It¡¯s wonderful, isn¡¯t it? I got it in a trade with a wonderful young woman named Mannequin, or was it Marionette? It was something along those lines, and this limb has been ever so helpful with helping me treat patients.¡±

    His robotic spider arm delicately inserts the needle into my arm as he brandishes the scalpel. He presses it against my skin until it makes an incision. I have to crane my neck just to watch what he¡¯s doing. The lack of sensation as my flesh parts and blood flows down my abdomen onto the table is curious. Dark red rivulets drip and pool beneath me, wetting my pants. Two of the metallic points peel back the skin and hold it in place as the remaining eight legs poke and prod about in my side, scraping against bone as they nudge the ribs back into place. The sound is unpleasant, like a rock scraping against a wine glass. He ceases speaking while operating, and I¡¯m thankful for the quiet reprieve. Everyone is so chatty. I¡¯d give an arm to work with silent corroborators.

    I allow myself to relax while the man works. I have ten bricks of pure cocaine. Wholesale value could net me five hundred thousand if I can find a buyer. But cutting it means no wholesale and having to dish it out through dealers and infrastructure I don¡¯t currently have. Finding myself a distributor is possible, but that¡¯ll also slash the profits. I don¡¯t know anything about the measurements or ratios of how to cut it to make it last. The types of people who buy impure cocaine aren¡¯t reliable or wealthy. It becomes a toss-up between two plans, each with two different blueprints. It¡¯s between one big payday or a gradual but smaller income trickling in. If I can find some would-be chemist at university, I could prolong the coke by lacing it with another drug. Then, market it to rich kids and people in business as a wonder drug. I need money now. My ideas spiral and fork out as I contemplate how the next few weeks will flush out. Two months and a couple of days to establish a skeleton of a crew needed to infiltrate Quinstin¡¯s underground.

    I¡¯m unclear how long the operation lasts, but the doctor is now stitching up my side, and the blood bag is nearly empty now. He pulls away and washes his hands in a sink attached to the wall. There¡¯s a bandage over my stitches, and the numbness is already fading. I stayed awake for the whole surgery, and the man seems to have done a thorough job. Easing myself upright, I¡¯m careful not to move too suddenly. My shirt is lying on another one of the metal carts, so it isn¡¯t dirty. I look at the doctor, and for the first time, I truly see him. Behind the crazy persona is an incredibly shrewd and resourceful surgeon. The sheer confidence and disregard for manners he shows let me know he¡¯s got to have several contingencies and backup plans. Things that make him feel safe all the way out here without security.

    ¡°How much do I owe you for the surgery?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll call it twenty-five hundred. Your injuries were mild enough that I didn¡¯t have to waste any of my really rare stuff. You know you could¡¯ve gone to a regular hospital if you got hurt ¡®climbing a tree,¡¯ right?¡± He responded with a laugh. ¡°So, Mister¡­¡±

    I fish the cash out of my pocket and place it on the table. Carefully making my way over, I grab my shirt off the cart and put it back on. The novocaine is making it easier to get dressed, and I have ibuprofen at home to help as I recover. From what little I know about cracked and broken ribs, healing just takes time and rest. I walk past him and leave him with a warning.

    ¡°I¡¯m Nobody; if you don¡¯t stop prying, you¡¯ll also be nobody.¡±

    My sentence surprises him, and a blank look covers his face. Play it carefully, Doctor. One shout and Vivienne brings the house down on all of us. His incessant attempts at sussing info about me have gotten old. Nobody questions Nobody. In the lobby, Vivienne is on her phone while the other guy reads a book. From the look of it, it¡¯s a philosophy book. He¡¯s balancing the book on his lap and using his healthy arm to turn the pages. I approach and stand in front of him, looking down.

    ¡°I recognize what you did, and I¡¯ll remember it,¡± I said.

    ¡°No problem, just showing respect to a fellow Jefe. They call me Santiago Skull, the biggest pound pusher of B-Town,¡± Santiago said while puffing up his chest.

    His bravado and swagger can¡¯t hide that he knows I could kill him right now¡ªa drug peddler¡¯s barely disguised attempt to bargain for his life. He¡¯s just as pitiful as Marcus, both terrified of the end. I have no reason to kill Santiago. He doesn¡¯t have anything I want, but he doesn¡¯t know that. All he saw was me antagonizing someone and then brutalizing them. It wasn¡¯t random violence. I¡¯m not a psychopath.

    ¡°Regardless of intent, the action was appreciated, Mr. Skull. I wish you a safe night.¡± My remarks only unsettle Santiago more with the ghostly overlap of voices.

    I nod at Vivienne, and we both put our shoes on and exit the hospital. I peek at the clock on the wall and see it¡¯s almost three A.M. I¡¯m exhausted and sore after the operation. It¡¯s time to leave. Stepping over the dead woman¡¯s body, I see Vivienne staring at the pasted head and hanging jaw. Let this show you my resolve, Vivienne, and the lengths I¡¯ll go to for my goal.

    ¡°Before we leave, get rid of it.¡±

    ¡°Got it, Nobody,¡± she said.

    Walking over to the unlocked SUV, I hear the sound of flesh sizzling and cooking. Good, at least she can do that right. As soon as I close the door, I press the button on my helmet to release it. It isn¡¯t stuffy inside of it. Aubrey made sure of that, but it still takes some getting used to. Having my head tightly encased for hours on end makes me happy I¡¯m not claustrophobic. It¡¯s not even a saying anymore. I genuinely feel happy not to have such a common phobia. I cannot wait to see what else brings me joy. The vehicle turns on, and Vivienne sets us on the long drive back to my house. I have nothing to say to her. Either my words will get through to her, or they won¡¯t. The lull of the quiet night makes me want to take a nap, but it would be unprofessional to do so. So I roll down my window and feel the cool air blow against my skin and through my hair. Tonight was a success. I got healed, gained leverage against Vivienne, got another ability, and a personality fragment. Only one person died as well. Tomorrow, we¡¯ll catch a rat and gain some intel. Everything is going my way.

    We get back to my house as the sun starts to rise. We were out far too late.

    ¡°That¡¯s my phone number. Text me whenever you wake up, and we can go meet your contact,¡± I said, handing her phone back.

    ¡°Hey, I know I didn¡¯t exactly perform tonight, but I¡¯ll be better.¡±

    ¡°You were the one who pushed for a partnership. The literal least you can do is be better than tonight,¡± I said, getting out of her car.

    I don¡¯t bother waiting for her response. The summer night air is sticky and humid. Thankfully, the house is kept at sixty-five degrees. The cold air hits me as I step through the door, chilling the slight sweat I worked up tonight. She could be so much more if she used her head. A partnership as equals cannot work, but I could mold her into a soldier. She seems to have a confidence issue that I can definitely exploit. With tonight¡¯s failure, I can guilt her into helping me accomplish a few goals for free. Either that or I remove her power and kill her after disposing of her contact.

 Chapter 18 - Premeditated Violence

    My eyes open blearily, and it takes me several minutes before I¡¯m awake enough to move. I laid on my back while sleeping so I wouldn¡¯t open up my stitches. My plan worked because I feel much better today than I did yesterday. My side is stiffer due to the bandages, but at the very least, it isn¡¯t in constant pain. Taking a deep breath, I scoot my way out of bed and reach for my cell phone. It¡¯s no longer a struggle to breathe. There are a few notifications but none from Aubrey or her mother. Aubrey can¡¯t be dead, or I would have heard about it by now. I¡¯m guessing she¡¯s been visited by either BNA or a Heroes¡¯ Union rep. I can still feel her with my power sense. I have a ton of missed calls and texts from Maria and a single message from an unknown number. That must be Vivienne reaching out. After Maria¡¯s tantrum at the diner, I have no interest in responding right now. Before I do anything, I need to fill the void that is my stomach.

    I make my way down to the kitchen, careful not to fall due to my groggy daze. I¡¯m a morning person, and I thrive on routine. Staying out late night after night and waking up in the afternoon isn¡¯t ideal. I down several glasses of water back to back before I start making breakfast. My go-to morning meal is two fried eggs and a slice of whole wheat toast with margarine spread. It¡¯s tasty, easy to cook and clean, and not too heavy to slow me down. My routine is being thrown out of whack by everything that Nobody is getting up to. Somehow, I have to find an equilibrium between Cowl and civilian. My health can¡¯t suffer in my pursuit of my goals, or I¡¯m no better than an addict chasing their fix. I take my time to enjoy my food and savor the simplistic flavors. An irresistible urge to smile and a pleasant glow from within; that is what joy feels like. It¡¯s one thing to read about the so-called ¡°good¡± emotions, but a whole different thing to have them.

    By the time I finish eating, it¡¯s now three-thirty in the afternoon. I can¡¯t do my regular workout until the stitches heal, which will take at least two to three weeks. I need people, foot soldiers, to be boots on the ground and get things done for me. My power doesn¡¯t grant me any protection against harm. I need competent, loyal subordinates who can accomplish my goals so I have time for other things. A sturdy base to build off of is paramount to my aspirations. Vivienne is a candidate if she can prove her usefulness. I respond to Vivienne¡¯s text and plan to have her pick me up at five. Daniel must not be home. I would¡¯ve heard or seen him by now if he was here. My dishes and silverware go into the dishwasher. It doesn¡¯t see much use with only two people living here. Once I hear the hum of the machine turning on, I return to my room to clean myself up. As I step into my bathroom, I remember I can¡¯t shower yet. The bandages are too fresh, and there¡¯s a chance I¡¯ll get soap inside the wound.

    My attempt to bend at a ninety-degree angle is awkward. I¡¯m trying to get my head under the sink to wash my hair. My head keeps hitting the faucet, and the shampoo is getting everywhere. This isn¡¯t working. I¡¯m glad that I no longer have Davis¡¯ rage, or I¡¯d be fuming. How do people keep their emotions under control? After fifteen minutes of failed attempts, I just scoop and pour the water over my head. My feet are getting wet from all the liquid on the floor. Grabbing a cloth from my bathroom cabinet, I carefully wipe down my body. I¡¯ll have to do this for the next few days until I¡¯m sure my stitches won¡¯t tear. Even before my extracurricular activities, I hated the recovery time after injuries. In the mirror, I can see that the doctor did a good job with the bandages. He better have for what it costs. I¡¯m going to end up having scars on both sides of my torso.

    As I rummage through my closet and dresser, I realize just how many black, gray, and darker-toned clothes I own. Just like me, they match everything. None of them are expensive designer brands, but they aren¡¯t thrifted either. My wardrobe exists in the in-between.

    The Maria decision is rapidly reaching a head, and if nothing is done, it¡¯ll end. Now that I can feel joy, does she bring me joy? Am I happy in our relationship? If she does and I am happy, do I want this enough to keep it going? Long distance doesn¡¯t work; everything I¡¯ve read says it kills ninety percent of relationships. That is exactly why I wanted it. Maria Estella and Eryk Blakely are perfectly compatible, but Eryk Blakely isn¡¯t real. If I gather more powers and traits, could I become someone who could love her the way she loves me? Would she love me if she knew what I¡¯d done? Davis, Marcus, Dynax, Froggy, Lee Daeshim, and the woman from last night were all killed directly or indirectly by me. Their deaths don¡¯t weigh on me. Each of them died for a reason, but would Maria see it that way? I¡¯ve gone too far to stop, and seeing people express genuine feelings arouses a hunger deep within me. I want to feel what they feel. I want to know what gut-wrenching sadness feels like. I want to hate and love and fight not from a place of logic and composure but from pure, unfiltered emotion. I know what I want to do now. I grab my phone and text Maria back.

    You were right, and I¡¯m sorry. Can we talk tomorrow? I can¡¯t tonight, but it¡¯s better if we have this talk face-to-face. :(Eryk)

    (Maria): Are you breaking up with me? Is this because of the diner? I love you, Eryk. Please don¡¯t.

    I¡¯m not breaking up with you. The conversation needs to be in person. I can¡¯t text or talk tonight. Meet me at my house tomorrow at 2:30. :(Eryk)

    (Maria): I¡¯ll be there. Have a good night. I love you so much. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do without you. <3

    After that, I contact Vivienne to let her know I¡¯m ready. Grey joggers and another black hoodie are tonight¡¯s attire. Unrecognizable and able to hide in the night. It¡¯s worked for me so far, so I see no reason to switch things up. Now, all I have to do is wait for my ride. I can feel her approaching before my phone dings. I grab my mask and head outside. Vivienne¡¯s waiting, and I climb into the back¡ªtime to catch a rat. I don¡¯t put the mask on while we¡¯re in her car. It might draw attention if someone somehow sees me through her front windshield.

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°I have a lot of questions about the person we¡¯re going to see, but before that, I¡¯d like to renegotiate the 50/50 split. That kind of equal compensation is for partners, but as of right now, I see very little value in you as a partner. Depending on how this goes, we can revisit the conversation at a later point. We can do 80/20 unless you have a counteroffer,¡± I stated.

    ¡°No, you¡¯re right, and that¡¯s more than fair. Last night was my fault. I fucked up and got my ass handed to me by some rando. It won¡¯t happen again. Tonight will go off without a hitch, I promise. I was right about one thing, though. Sticking with you is going to give me plenty of strong people to fight,¡± she said.

    ¡°My objectives will cause me to be in constant conflict with a lot of strong people. If you want to continue to work together, you need to be ready. Going forward, I want to be very clear about what I want and expect. If a fight is imminent, you should immediately transform. If you want to toy with your food, just ask me. I don¡¯t mind as long as it doesn¡¯t interfere with the job.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate that, and I gotta say you are very professional. I¡¯ve worked with a lot of Cowls, and you are certainly an odd one,¡± she said.

    ¡°What do you mean by that?¡±

    ¡°Like I said, I¡¯ve worked for and with a ton of different Cowls, but you are scary as shit. It isn¡¯t just the helmet, it¡¯s the efficiency in nearly everything you do. It just feels like you go into everything with not an inkling of doubt. Like no matter what happens, you are going to achieve what you set out to do and fuck anybody in your way. It makes me wonder what would have happened if you had turned me down. I wanna be clear, straight up, I¡¯d beat you in a scrap, but you give off the vibe that you wouldn¡¯t make it easy,¡± she answered.

    ¡°Your observations are entirely correct. There is no reason for me to treat this any differently than I would a regular job. And any plan that factors in failure is destined to fail. In regards to me being scary, that only helps me accomplish goals. Fear is a great destabilizer.¡±

    ¡°Well, last night showed me that you¡¯ve got my back in a scrap, which I¡¯ve never had before. And something I¡¯ve learned is I¡¯d rather have the scary motherfucker on my side,¡± Vivienne answered.

    ¡°As long as we¡¯re working together, I have your back. I just need you to watch mine. By the way do you have a Cowl name because calling you Vivienne will only invite people to investigate. You are the only person who knows who I am, after all.¡± I don¡¯t consider her a loose end. There aren¡¯t many people who could even capture her.

    ¡°Nope, never needed one. I¡¯m not like you, Nobody. I don¡¯t separate my civilian life from my criminal one. I¡¯m unapologetically me, and that¡¯s all I want to be. I¡¯m a battle junkie; I don¡¯t need a codename. Don¡¯t worry, your secret is safe with me. I¡¯d never break Cowl code,¡± she said.

    ¡°That¡¯s your choice, but do you mind if I call you V? It will help slightly with the anonymity problem. Loyalty is important to me, and I fully believe in approaching situations objectively. Correcting failures and owning up to mistakes is important. I¡¯ll be frank with you: last night was also a failure on my part.¡± As the words leave my lips, I see Vivienne¡¯s confusion reflected in the mirror. She wasn¡¯t expecting me to say that. Absolving her of the blame and placing it on myself will subconsciously work to deepen her debts to me. She has shown herself to be open to criticism and shows remorse for mistakes. All of that makes for an ideal soldier. ¡°I did not properly set expectations, and that¡¯s on me.¡±

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t mind the nickname. We¡¯ll be there soon. Do you want me to fill you in about the contact?¡± V asked.

    ¡°Yes. Everything you know about them could prove helpful,¡± I said.

    ¡°My informant is a private detective. His name is Kitt Sursich, and he¡¯s a bit of a coke addict. I happened to hear about him from Gio. I¡¯ve only used him twice before. He lives in Breeton, and unlike Crimton, the law isn¡¯t just a suggestion there. His addiction to nose candy makes him very easy to blackmail. He¡¯s not well-liked and has a lot of enemies because of the work he does. He¡¯s smart as shit, though. He created this database that helps him solve crimes or something. He¡¯s not a Tinkerer either,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°Kitt Sursich, coke addict, what else? Is he married or divorced? Does he live alone, or does he have a roommate? What does he look like? How old is he? Any other information you have could be vital.¡±

    ¡°He lives alone, for sure. No girlfriend or family in the picture either. He has graying hair combed over and looks fucking rough consistently. He¡¯s average height and weight and sucks at cardio, but he makes it up for it by being a crack shot. Found out that last one the first time I met him. He shot me three times in the head and three in the chest when I threatened him. If I hadn¡¯t shifted, I¡¯d be dead. Don¡¯t worry, Nobody. I¡¯ll keep you safe,¡± she said with a laugh.

    ¡°I¡¯d hope so. That¡¯s what you¡¯re here for.¡±

    We don¡¯t exchange any more words for the remainder of the drive. It¡¯s purposeful. We aren¡¯t partners anymore. I¡¯m treating her like she¡¯s my subordinate and I¡¯m her boss. Cordial, but not friendly. Likable but feared. The screen in the center console says it¡¯s seven twenty-four. The summer sun has long set and has been replaced by the cool, dark air of the night. Breeton is far nicer than Crimton but less densely populated. There are suburban culdesacs and chain restaurants. It proudly boasts having two Walmarts. It¡¯s a large town, unlike Crimton, a small city. There are no Heroes¡¯ Union teams or BNA squads, but there¡¯s a good chance that there are Neuvohumans here. The database sounds very useful. Is it a basic program that processes a ton of information into easily digestible amounts or some sort of primitive A.I.? How did he make it? I¡¯ll find out soon enough.

    The street Kitt lives on is proof that every place has bad parts. Breeton isn¡¯t immune to that fact. The scent of trash and a mixture of weed and cigarette smoke seep through the closed windows of the SUV. There are a few people milling around, looking suspicious, and trying to project danger. They intelligently avoid our car as we pull into the parking garage attached to the detective¡¯s apartment. I should get a weapon. I could¡¯ve kept one of the guns from the docks, but there was no way of knowing what crimes they were tied to. There¡¯s no guard at the booth, and the ticket machine only accepts cash. No witness to silence and no digital trail to prove we were here. My helmet protects me from cameras, and the only person who will know I¡¯ve been here will die tonight.

    The car shuts off, and Vivienne steps out of the car, looking around. I press the button at the bottom of the mask, and it springs into motion, securely encasing my visage. Could I find a Tinkerer to alter the helmet for me? Pressing the button with my chin is inconvenient but doable. Can Tinkerers even work on other Tinkertech? I brought a pair of gloves in anticipation of what is to come tonight. Every night since I picked up the moniker of Nobody has ended in violence. It hasn¡¯t been intentional, merely an unintended side effect of my aspirations. Tonight, that changes because I¡¯m going out with the expressed purpose of inflicting bodily harm. Tonight, I will rob a man of his life for doing a task he was forced to do. Tonight, I will kill a man for knowing my name.

 Chapter 19 - No Witnesses (TRIGGER WARNING)

    ¡°You remember what we talked about?¡± I asked her.

    ¡°Yeah. I won¡¯t pull any punches. I know this is important,¡± Vivienne answered.

    I didn¡¯t notice from the back seat, but she¡¯s dressed differently. It looks like my words got through to her. She¡¯s taking this more seriously. Vivienne¡¯s wearing leather pants, a cropped black hoodie with a black undershirt, and combat boots. I follow her toward the elevator until she stops suddenly, heading to the emergency exit stairs. There¡¯s a vending machine and one of those garbage cans with an ashtray next to them. I fish a plastic bag out of the trash and buy two sodas and some snacks from the machine. Vivienne looks confused at my actions but doesn¡¯t question me. I place my purchases inside the bag and tie it closed as we begin our climb.

    The only sounds in the stairway are our boots and the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above. My body falls into a steady rhythm as we climb the floors. Vivienne opens the door to the fifth floor, and we enter a run-down hallway. The carpet on the floor has so many stains I can¡¯t tell what the original color was, and the floor creaks with every step. The paint on the walls is a nauseating bright orange, the color of cheese puffs, and it¡¯s peeling away due to mold. This place is noisy. Sounds of children crying, adults arguing, and old gameshows blend to bleed through the paper-thin walls. This isn¡¯t the type of place you live if your life is going well. These apartments are the end of the tracks; if you¡¯ve found yourself here, there is no recovery.

    Vivienne stops at the last apartment at the end of the hall. The plastic numbers are gone and only the discoloration of the paint reveals the apartment is number eighty-two. The door is scratched, and there¡¯s mail piled in front of the door. Inside, I can hear someone watching tonight¡¯s game. He¡¯s home. I¡¯m glad I don¡¯t have to wait for you, Mr. Sursich. I motion at the door, and Vivienne takes my cue. She knocks repeatedly and then hides off to the side. I press the button and quickly hide the mask in my hoodie. I stand in front of the keyhole and ruffle my hair until it hangs over my face. The keyhole shifts, and I know Kitt is on the other side.

    ¡°Go away. Whatever you¡¯re selling, I don¡¯t want,¡± a gruff voice said from behind the door.

    ¡°I¡¯m here to deliver food. This is apartment eighty-two, right?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t order shit. Now scram,¡± Kitt said.

    ¡°My app says eighty-two, so I gotta drop it off here. It fucking sucked finding this place, and I don¡¯t wanna be here either. So, just let me take a picture of the stuff in front of the door. You can even keep it. I just need the picture so I can get the tip. Please, man, I need the money,¡± I pleaded.

    ¡°Fine. Take your photo, and then get out of here.¡±

    I place the bag at his door, pull out my phone, and hold it up as if I were taking a picture. My photo app isn¡¯t even up. I¡¯m just stalling, waiting for him to get agitated. After a few minutes of not moving and pretending to fidget with the phone, he barks at me.

    ¡°Hurry the fuck up!¡±

    Perfect. I jump back and drop my phone on the ground. ¡°Sorry, sorry. I¡¯m I¡¯m not. I didn¡¯t mean to bother you,¡± I stuttered.

    ¡°Uggh. Fuckin¡¯ kids and stupid apps,¡± he grumbled from behind the door.

    I got you now. Kitt Sursich steps into the hallway wearing boxers and slippers. There are sauce stains on his hairy chest, and his boxers look damp. The man is identical to V¡¯s description.

    ¡°Fucking idiot,¡± he said while reaching for the bag.

    He¡¯s so focused on my act he doesn¡¯t see Vivienne move. She steps out from her hiding spot and delivers a two-handed overhead strike that knocks him out cold. Efficient. I activate my helmet as Vivienne drags him into the apartment. Before I close the door, I grab my bag of snacks. It¡¯s going to be a long night, and I¡¯ll want something to eat later. The back of his door certainly verifies V¡¯s claims. Four deadlocks, two security chains, and a drawbar are on it. He¡¯s paranoid about people coming to get him. Is it a prior mental condition or a result of the drug use? No matter; it doesn¡¯t change tonight¡¯s outcome.

    His small apartment is cluttered but not terribly disgusting. It¡¯s the difference between unorganized and messy. The room we enter is a combination kitchen and living room. To our left are two doors leading to probably the bathroom and his bedroom. There¡¯s no furniture besides a table covered in beer bottles, a pleather recliner, and a large TV on the floor. I¡¯m thankful for my helmet if Vivienne¡¯s face is any indication of the smell. Where¡¯s the database? Is it kept offsite somewhere?

    ¡°I¡¯m going to search his bedroom. Find something to tie him up, and don¡¯t take your eyes off him. I¡¯m serious. Don¡¯t let him out of your sight, V.¡±

    ¡°Got it.¡±

    Trusting that she¡¯s got it under control, I walk over to the first room. The door swings open, revealing the bathroom. I move on to the next door and twist the knob. Inside is Kitt¡¯s bedroom, but calling it a bedroom would be misleading. There¡¯s no bed. A lit monitor, a keyboard, and a mouse sit on top of one of those cheap fold-out tables. A single lone computer chair is facing the table. A display port and power wire lead off the table into a massive custom rig. The case is the size of a medium-sized fridge; thick cables are coming off it and draped all over the ground. Six box fans are blowing straight at it, and the thing is radiating heat. I sit on the chair and press enter. The screen changes and prompts me for the password. Of course, it¡¯s password protected. I can¡¯t risk typing the wrong answer. He might have set it all up to wipe itself if a wrong answer is entered. There¡¯s no telling what kind of measures a paranoid, coke-addicted detective has.

    I bring the chair back to the living room. Vivienne is sitting in the recliner, and Mr. Sursich¡¯s wrists and ankles are tied up with bungee cords. Her feet are propped up on top of his body. The detective has been reduced to a human ottoman. I¡¯m in no shape to lift a grown man, so I ask Vivienne to place him in the chair. I undo his wrist bindings and retie them to the arms of the chair. A separate bungee cord surrounds his waist to secure him to his chair. Vivienne wraps a thin towel around his mouth as a gag. While waiting for Kitt to wake up, I explore the kitchen for information-gathering tools.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to ask, but are you squeamish around blood?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Naw. I¡¯d be a shit fighter if I couldn¡¯t handle some blood,¡± she responded.

    ¡°And what about murder?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a fighter, not an executioner. But I don¡¯t expect every Cowl to agree with me,¡± Vivienne replied.

    Good, I¡¯d hate for her to attempt to stop me. Kitt owns two sets of silverware: two steak knives, two spoons, and two forks. Why have a flatware organizer if you only have two sets? Unless he¡¯s hiding something underneath it. I lift it and find my prize: a loaded pistol and extra ammunition. His cupboards don¡¯t hold any other secret weapons, just plastic cups and paper plates. My exploration of the remaining kitchen drawers nets me a couple of rolls of wire, pliers, a wire stripper, and a complete and intact soldering kit. I need to make him talk. I can¡¯t have a repeat of that woman with the sound power. I drag the table to where he is strapped up and start cleaning. All the beer bottles go into the trash, and I place everything I¡¯ve found on the table. I plug the soldering iron into one of the extension cords on the floor to start heating up. Going into the bathroom, I take several towels and then fill up two cups of water in the kitchen. Once I¡¯ve organized my workspace, I change the television from sports to one of those 24/7 concert channels. Some nu-metal band is playing, and I gradually increase the volume until it drowns out the noise from all the other tenants.

    ¡°Time to wake up, Mr. Sursich,¡± I said as I tossed water into his face.

    He groans but doesn¡¯t wake, so I hold his head back and pour the second cup into his face. The water splashes up his nose and into his mouth, trailing into his chest. He sputters and spits as he¡¯s forcefully awakened. His brown eyes tremble as they peel wide in panic. They jolt around the room until they settle on me. A muffled scream erupts from behind his makeshift muzzle. It¡¯s just like the man at the docks. The eyes are capable of projecting raw terror in such a unique way.

    ¡°Quiet, Mr. Sursich. We don¡¯t want to disturb the neighbors,¡± I said. His body stiffens at the sound of the overlapping voices from my helmet. He thrashes against his bonds, but we tied them tight. Struggle all you want. You¡¯re going nowhere. ¡°I¡¯m going to move the towel around your mouth and then ask you a question. You are going to answer honestly, or I¡¯m going to have to hurt you. Don¡¯t make me hurt you.¡±

    I pull the cloth down, and he glares at me. How quickly fear turns to anger. I wave Vivienne over, and she stands by my side.

    ¡°Did you look into a Cowl named Nobody for this woman? Remember, don¡¯t lie.¡±

    ¡°What are you doing here, Vivienne? And who the fuck are you?¡± He said angrily.

    ¡°Don¡¯t look at her, and don¡¯t speak to her. You and I are having a conversation. Now, did you or did you not look into a Cowl named Nobody for her?¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°Avoiding my question feels like lying to me,¡± I said.

    I move the muzzle back into place and walk over to my table. I plan to start slowly and ramp up the pain levels as we go. Gathering information is all about controlled escalation; I want to build a rapport with Kitt until he understands that lies lead to pain and the truth will set him free. It won¡¯t, but I¡¯ll let him think that. I don¡¯t want to appear as someone who enjoys this but merely sees it as a means to an end. There are so many options that I have a bit of choice paralysis. It subsides as I look at the soldering wire. That seems like an excellent first test. This is my first time doing something like this, and I have to be careful. If he dies before I get my information, this whole night will fail.

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    Though I¡¯m new to this world of powers and secret identities, I¡¯m no stranger to hard work. My teachers always said I was a quick learner. Using the pliers, I clip a long strand of the soldering wire and wind it side to side until it¡¯s thicker. It¡¯s in the form of a long, condensed, twisted line. I bring my soldering gun and twist over to the man, whose eyes look so defiant. You¡¯ll break Mr. Sursich. I promise that. The gun is faintly smoking, and I hold the wire above his left shoulder as the hot gun burns the solder, sending molten silver raindrops falling onto him. I¡¯m unprepared for how quickly it burns, and the entire thing melts. It¡¯s your first time, so there is bound to be a learning curve. The raindrops harden in seconds, and Kitt screams bloody murder. I¡¯ll admit it does look painful, but the contrast between the hardened silver color and his rapidly redding skin is pleasant.

    ¡°Please, Kitt, do you mind if I call you Kitt? I told you I don¡¯t want to hurt you, not that I won¡¯t. We¡¯ll try this again. Did you look into a cowl named Nobody for this woman?¡± I said as I moved his gag.

    ¡°Yeah, I mean, yes. What the fuck is wrong with you? You¡¯re that delivery kid, right? What kind of psycho breaks into someone¡¯s house and does shit like this?¡±

    I ignore him and move on. ¡°And what were the results of your findings?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. As far as I could tell, Nobody doesn¡¯t exist. There isn¡¯t a single testimony, police report, or mention on any message board. Will you let me go now?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Kitt, I ask the questions, and you provide the answers. Next question, what was the other task she asked of you?¡±

    There¡¯s a change in his facial expression after I ask him that. A sudden clarity hits him. Your career as a private detective isn¡¯t to be underestimated. You¡¯ve pieced it together, have you? You might¡¯ve never made the connection between a brand new Cowl and the license plate, but I can¡¯t risk the chance you one day figure it out.

    ¡°She asked me to run a license plate. It turns out it belonged to some kid out in New Farford. But you already know that, don¡¯t you, Eryk? Listen, kid. If you leave now, I¡¯ll pretend it never happened. No charges will be pressed, and you¡¯re free to go on being Nobody. We can stop this before you make a big mistake,¡± he said condescendingly.

    ¡°Mr. Sursich, you knowing who I am should show you how serious this is. But if you need to be taught this isn¡¯t a game, so be it.¡±

    The gag goes back on. What would be a proper response? I¡¯m saving his fingers for my final question. The idea comes to me, and I grab one of the steak knives and some regular wire. I wrap the electrical wire around his bicep and tie it tightly. With that taken care of, I slowly drag the steak knife across his forearm, pressing hard enough to separate skin but not cutting too deeply. The horizontal red line slowly opens like flower petals to the sun. His breathing quickens, and together, we watch as blood flows out of him. The electrical wire should help reduce blood loss. I wipe the bloody knife clean with one of the towels. His eyes are trained on the small wound, and he forgets I¡¯m there. That is until I shove my index and middle finger into the cut, moving them around to widen it. Painful growls transition to sniveling cries as I spread his epidermis. This isn¡¯t even the bad part; this is the setup.

    I learned from my earlier mistake with the solder. My new solder creation is a thick braid about half a foot long. Kitt realizes what¡¯s coming, and tears start forming in his eyes. I have no doubt this will be incredibly painful for him. My gloved fingers are slippery with his blood, and I almost drop my braid. With the braid in my left hand and the soldering iron in my right, I delicately bring them together above his forearm. My first drops go wide and miss. But I swiftly correct my aim, and soon, a steady stream of the liquid metal pours into his newly opened hole. The gag and the television are working overtime to quiet his screams. The solder sizzles and hardens as it cools inside his wet, bloody wound. I continue to burn the braid, sending more metal into his arm until it fills the space I made. The chrome oval completely covers the injury, and no blood escapes from it. His arm hair around it is gone, burnt away by the heat. The surrounding of the oval is blistered and reddening. That should show him the very real danger he finds himself in.

    ¡°If you continue to mouth off, bad things will happen. I wish I didn¡¯t have to make this visit to you, but you possess information I need. These injuries you¡¯ve sustained aren¡¯t life-threatening, and there¡¯s a chance they could even be healed without a scratch. That is only if you tell me what I want to know. Nod your head if you understand,¡± I said.

    His face is scrunched in pain, and sweat pours from his scalp. Information gathering is very messy. I should find someone to do this for me¡ªyet another person I have to add to the list of required employees. Despite the agony he¡¯s experiencing, he manages to nod his assent.

    ¡°Your computer in there requires a password. What is it?¡± I said as I removed his muzzle.

    ¡°That¡¯s my life¡¯s work. I can¡¯t just give it to you. It took me years to assemble the database. You can¡¯t have it. I refuse,¡± he said with such bravery and determination.

    The resilience of the human spirit is captivating. How hard must I bend before he breaks? What is the use of defying me if I¡¯ve already shown how far I¡¯ll go? My mental constitution means there aren¡¯t any lines I won¡¯t cross to get what I want. I place the towel back into his mouth and wrap it tight. Then I grab the wire stripper. It has several teeth on each side and is rusty from use. The once bright yellow handle is now a faded mustard color. Garden shears would work better, but adaptability is the byproduct of intelligence and drive. I slot the wire stripper around the base of his right index finger. As soon as I do this, he resumes struggling and attempting to escape.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen a lot of movies and shows that involve questioning someone under the threat of violence. There¡¯s a mistake every one of them makes, though. If you cut the whole finger off, you limit the number of questions you can ask to ten, twenty if you count toes. That¡¯s why I won¡¯t cut your whole finger off; I¡¯ll cut a segment off. That gives me twenty-eight chances to get my answer.¡±

    I slide the wire stripper up to the first bend of his index and slam my hand shut. It doesn¡¯t slice through as I hoped. Instead, it bites in and gets stuck on the bone. I knew this might happen, but I¡¯m prepared. Up and down, release and clamp, I use the tool like a hound¡¯s jaws to steadily gnaw away the phalanges. It¡¯s messy and shreds like a fork through pulled pork. Mr. Sursich is whimpering like a lost puppy now. Shock hasn¡¯t set in, and I¡¯d hate for him to miss it. There¡¯s blood oozing out of his severed fingertip, and I need to stop him from dying before I learn the password. The soldering iron can cauterize the wound. He doesn¡¯t notice me switch my instruments, and I press the scalding hot metal tip against his finger. It takes a few tries to ensure I didn¡¯t leave any leaks, but I get it. If his boxers were damp with sweat before, now they¡¯re soaked in piss.

    A look over at Vivienne shows she¡¯s watching me intensely. Yes, look at what happens to those who oppose me. Ingrave this moment in your mind, your soul. Remember that I¡¯m in control, and I am immensely dangerous. I repeat my question, and Kitt spits at me. I put the rag back over his mouth. It''s an expected outcome, but I have all night to make him talk. Walking away from him, I grab my plastic bag from earlier. Inside are two bottles of soda, candy bars, and some salted nuts.

    ¡°Hey V, do you want orange or root beer? I asked my silent companion. Her surprise at my question is evident on her face. ¡°I¡¯d hate for Mr. Sursich to think I¡¯m a bad person who would deny you a break.¡± All of this has been an act designed to unnerve Kitt and make him uncomfortable.

    ¡°Ooh, Orange. I hate root beer; it tastes terrible. I¡¯m a little hungry, too; what do you got for snacks?¡±

    My snack break has changed the atmosphere of the room dramatically. The heavy, morbid nature of our outing is broken up by the unserious question I asked. While I want Vivienne to memorize this scene, I don¡¯t want to scare her away. She¡¯s far too valuable to let go. I wipe my gloves on a towel and toss her the orange soda. Neither soda appeals to me. I fill one of the plastic cups with water and press the button to free my head. The mask falls into my other hand, and I leave it on the table. My hair is damp after being in the helmet. I toss the bag of candy bars at Vivienne after taking out the salted nuts. The two of us don¡¯t speak; we eat while the television blares. Washing down the salty taste, I lick my lips and put my helmet back on. Now that break time is over, it¡¯s time to get what I want.

    Like when I counted the money, I enter a zen state of repetition. I ask him for the password; he refuses, and I rip and tear a portion of his finger off. Let it bleed for five seconds, and then sear the flesh shut. I¡¯ve created an easy-to-follow cycle. After the tenth cycle, he stops responding. Kitt¡¯s missing the tip of every single finger. I don¡¯t want to be out all night. I need to up the stakes of this and be quicker. This is taking too long.

    ¡°What is the password for the database?¡±

    ¡°Fuck you, just kill me. I¡¯m not going to tell you shit,¡± he said furiously.

    ¡°Wrong answer.¡± I grab the knife and stab it straight through his uninjured arm. My hand twists it in a circle to free up some space. His voice is hoarse from screaming, and barely any sound emerges. I pick the soldering iron off the table and stab the hot metal into the hole I made. Somehow, his voice finds its second wind, and he belts out more curses and painful cries. I grab the rootbeer Vivienne didn¡¯t drink and pour the soda right above his arm. It rushes into the hole and rapidly steams upon contact with the soldering iron. The carbonation and sugar rapidly evaporate into him, and he experiences true agony.

    ¡°TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT THE FUCK OUT! I¡¯LL TELL YOU, JUST TAKE IT OUT!¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the password?¡±

    ¡°FUCKING SHIT! IT¡¯S ONE FOUR THREE TWO TWO FOUR SEVEN EIGHT ONE FIVE FIVE SIX TWO ONE! THAT¡¯S THE CODE. TAKE IT OUT!¡±

    I rush over to his bedroom and enter the code into the computer. Nothing happens until the screen goes black. He lied. I¡¯ll make his last night on earth a living hell. Turning around, I start to leave the dark room until a light shines on my back. On the monitor is the word database with a search bar below. He actually gave me the real code¡ªso much knowledge at my fingertips. I slowly type in Neuvohuman and press enter. A loading bar steadily fills in, and then the screen changes to be covered in tiny green squares. I mouse over one of them and click. A page opens, and it¡¯s of a Neuvohuman. There¡¯s so much information on it. It shows the Neuvohuman¡¯s age, real name, alias, area of operations, known associates, power classification, and power rating. There¡¯s even more information farther down, and the bottom of the page has pictures and videos of them.

    This is incredibly illegal, and it¡¯s now mine. Happiness fills me, and I¡¯m grinning like a kid on Christmas. Kitt¡¯s noises wake me from my reverie. I reluctantly leave the database and come back into the living room. Vivienne raised the volume on the television while I was in there to drown out Kitt. She¡¯s lying in the recliner and watching the concert while eating. The contrast between Kitt¡¯s mutilated body and Vivienne¡¯s cozy figure is striking. I yank the soldering iron out of his arm as I promised. The hole is blackened, and the skin is bubbled and oozing a dark brown liquid. The heat burned the tunnel of flesh into his arm permanently. When I squint, I can see the chair¡¯s arm through it. I step behind him and move the bungee cords holding his body. Given his state, I¡¯m unsure if he thinks I¡¯m letting him go, but he isn¡¯t prepared for the knife as I stab it through his ear into his brain. No witnesses.

    My ears aren¡¯t ready for the quietness caused by Vivienne shutting off the TV. Her facial expression isn¡¯t unhappy, but she looks uncertain. It is almost as if she¡¯s waiting to see how I feel about this situation. My phone shows that we¡¯ve been here for six hours. I¡¯m going to be exhausted tomorrow for my talk with Maria. The sleep schedule I¡¯ve had throughout high school has been thrown into disarray because of my moonlighting criminal activities. By the end of the summer, I¡¯ll be a complete night owl.

    ¡°This was a productive night. I want to bring the computer with us. It¡¯s far too valuable and dangerous to leave it here,¡± I said.

    ¡°Okay,¡± she laughed. ¡°And what do you wanna do about the dead guy you mutilated?¡±

    ¡°Leave him. It¡¯s not exactly like he¡¯s going to be missed. There isn¡¯t anything that can tie it to us. Make sure you bring the trash with you.¡±

    Vivienne picks up all the wrappers, bottles, and cups. Then we enter the bedroom, and I look over the computer. Now that I¡¯m not rushing, I can take a minute and examine this technological powerhouse. There¡¯s a hum coming from it, and as I touch it, I notice it¡¯s vibrating slightly. The case is sleek and extremely hot. I can feel the heat through my gloves. I knock on the case, and it¡¯s solid. It could probably fall over and not even damage the internals. The fact it¡¯s so durable makes me more confident about moving it. At the top, I find a singular button and push it. A slow whirring sound comes from the case as it powers down. The light from the monitor shuts off, and I follow the cables coming off the machine.

    It takes us thirty minutes to carefully disassemble the cables and cords. It could¡¯ve been done sooner, but this computer is like a treasure chest filled with gold; I won¡¯t risk breaking it. The wires go into a large trash bag we grabbed from the kitchen, and I put the extra ammunition into it. I tell Vivienne to grab the giant machine. She effortlessly picks it up and wraps her muscular arms around it. As we exit the apartment I softly shut the door behind us. Rather than make Vivienne carry it down the flight of stairs, we take the elevator. It¡¯s damp and shakes the entire time we ride it.

    The ride ends without disaster, and we walk into the parking lot. I put the bag I¡¯m carrying on the passenger seat and head to help Vivienne at the back of the vehicle. Her SUV has one of those sensors on the bottom that opens the trunk when you sweep your leg below. Luckily, her vehicle has a lot of space in the back, and we get the computer inside with the two of us. She puts down the back seat on the side I don¡¯t sit on, and it¡¯s soon secured. She shuts the trunk, and as I walk to my door, I hear a hissing sound followed by a thump and the sound of flesh on concrete.

    The parking lot is deserted at this hour, and we¡¯re the only ones here. That noise must¡¯ve been Vivienne. Someone got the drop on her, which means I¡¯m next. The gun is loaded, and whoever is here is close enough that I cannot miss a shot. I should shoot first and ask questions later. Both our lives are in danger. I reach for the gun at my waist, and something cracks into my hand. Before I can turn to my attacker, a metal rod collides with my leg, dropping me to the ground. My hand and leg ache, and I fall over when I try to stand. I glimpse one of the attackers'' faces as the bat rocks into my helmet. The concussive impact sends me to unconsciousness. Who attacked us?

 Chapter 20 - The Trial

    When I wake up, it¡¯s to complete darkness. My helmet is still on, but I can¡¯t see anything around me. Aubrey gave the helmet night vision, so they must have something else covering my helmet. My wrists are handcuffed behind me, and I am lying on a hard cement surface. My gloves and gun are missing. From what I can feel on the floor, I think I am in a warehouse of some sort. The floor is cold against my skin, and I flip myself onto my side. My movement disturbs the layers of dust covering everything. There are small pieces of debris I can touch, like pebbles and tiny fragments of wood. My bindings prevent me from discovering what is covering my head and blocking my sight. The fact my helmet is still on means that they either couldn¡¯t remove it or were afraid to. If it¡¯s fear, then they should be easy to manipulate. If it¡¯s the former, then I owe Aubrey my thanks.

    Am I being watched, or have they left me to my own devices? I can sense Vivienne¡¯s bundle of power on my left. She¡¯s in a different room and not moving at all. I¡¯d like to get to her before she wakes up and starts attacking whoever did this to us. I don¡¯t hold our capture against her, but I¡¯ll use this as the final straw to bind her to me. Abducted and restrained, kept away from my only ally by an unknown amount of assailants, I¡¯m happy. This is what I want. Odds stacked against me, and a mistake could mean death. The first half of my night was painfully mundane, but now things have taken a thrilling turn. Let¡¯s get things rolling.

    I may be muscular, but I¡¯ve always been flexible and lean over bulky. If I pull my legs up to my chest, I should be able to move my cuffed hands underneath me. Then I¡¯d be able to remove my head covering. The possible problems are that I run the risk of opening my stitches, and I might have to pop my shoulder out to accomplish it. I¡¯m going to have to make a second trip to the doctor. I roll onto my front with my knees resting against my chin and pull my hands down and under. The cuffs get stuck on my boots and scrape at my wrists. Gritting my teeth, I push past the pain and yank them through. My wrists are raw and slick with blood. I use the moisture to slip the handcuffs off but keep them in my hoodie pocket. I sit up and reach for whatever is covering my head. It¡¯s a coarse cloth sack. My helmet¡¯s night vision lets me read the tiny black lettering on the bag. It reads whole grain rice, but the words are faded, so it must be old.

    From what I can see, I am in a warehouse, most likely a storage closet. The medium-sized room has no windows, and there¡¯s nothing left in here I could use as a weapon. I glance down at my wrists, and the skin is scraped up from the metal. That¡¯s going to hurt later. I walk over to the wall on my left, and Vivienne isn¡¯t on the other side. She is on my left but much farther away than a single room. Did they take our vehicle with us or leave it in the parking lot? They better not have damaged the database.

    They took my phone when they grabbed us. Mine is passcode protected, so they won¡¯t get anything from it unless they have a hacker or Tinkerer specializing in phones. That was a very stupid mistake to make. I am operating in the world of geniuses and monsters now. I can¡¯t be so careless. The door is expectedly locked, so I can either wait for Vivienne or try to break out myself. I might have to kill everyone involved in this just to make an example. The door isn¡¯t metal, so I should be able to force it open as long as they haven¡¯t blocked the entrance. There¡¯s no way for me to do this without reopening my stitches. The doctor seems to be obsessed with Tinkertech. Should I offer to make him a Tinkerer? Having a personal surgeon on command would be very useful. The database will allow me to collect so many powers that I could use them to trade. I could pretend I¡¯ve created a procedure that creates Neuvohumans.

    Focusing on the present, I brace myself and slam my shoulder into the door. It barely even creaks; I need to hit harder. With the next charge, I feel a sharp stinging in my side. That would be the wound opening up. I¡¯ve worked too hard to stop now, and I continue my assault despite the pain. It takes four more hits before the door bursts open. With the amount of noise I¡¯m making, I expect someone will be coming to check on me. What I don''t anticipate is the hallway being completely vacant. My helmet¡¯s excellent night vision lets me make out every detail as if it were daytime. A movement to my left attracts my attention, and I see a mouse scurry down the hallway. There¡¯s nobody around to hassle me as I head to where I sense Vivienne.

    As I continue, I realize this place is infested with rodents. The little black vermin are everywhere. This place isn¡¯t as abandoned as I previously thought. Mice are skittish creatures and tend to avoid humans. They must be used to having people here if they¡¯re bold enough to run so close to me. There¡¯s no repulsion or disgust inside of me for these mice. They are fragile creatures who live their lives focused only on survival. Such a single-minded drive that completes occupies their minds. They have no thoughts of anger, sadness, love, or malice, just the immediate present task at hand. It¡¯s almost like a metaphor for myself. I follow the hallway until I reach a corner with light coming from around the bend. There¡¯s a faint murmur I hear up ahead. I creep toward the light while pressed against the wall.

    Hidden amongst the shadows, I advance toward the sounds. The light is coming from a wide room with high ceilings. In the center of the room is a large six-sided poker table. There are metallic coasters strewn about the table with wine glasses and beer bottles on top of them. Sitting there are four people; no, four Cowls, playing poker. Three women and one man wearing the kind of outfits I¡¯ve grown to associate with Cowls. They can¡¯t be Capes because they wouldn¡¯t have assaulted and kidnapped Vivienne and me. One is an attractive pale woman wearing a white dress, emphasizing her sensual figure and showing plenty of skin. She has a single face tattoo under her left eye, but the rest of her head is blacked out, with sharp, angular, empty lines of pale skin showing. The rest of her body is similarly inked up, with the actual designs being her skin showing through the deep black cover. Petals, diamonds, and other geometrical shapes make up the majority of her tattoos. The next woman is a petite older blonde wearing swim trunks and a bikini top made of interconnected, hexagonal metal plates. Two thick metal bands slowly circle her head, one covering her eyes and mouth. They¡¯re hovering like Saturn¡¯s rings. They are definitely Cowls.

    The lone male is wearing a full orange suit that covers his whole body, minus his nose and mouth. It¡¯s covered in white directional arrows, all facing the same way. The suit has extra padding around the knees and shoulders. At his hip is a black baton. So he¡¯s the one who jumped me. I¡¯ll return the favor. The final woman is wearing a hockey mask covered in painted flowers with her black hair falling over it. Her outfit is the oddest. It¡¯s a tight-fitting suit similar to the man¡¯s but with a cloak wrapped around it. The suit and cloak are various swathes of brown in an urban camouflage way. It is covert and militant looking, but then the mask is so eye-catching. The group''s unique outfits distract me enough that I don¡¯t notice Vivienne dead asleep in a cage beside them. Four new powers to take.

    There¡¯s no way I can sneak past them, especially when I do not know their capabilities. Is there a way to trick them into believing I¡¯m stronger than them? They have no idea what powers I might have. No, it¡¯s impossible. All four are older than I am and seem like an established group. What is their connection with me? None of them look familiar, and with my memory, I¡¯d recall if we¡¯d met before. I need to organize my thoughts before I make a move. What am I absolutely certain of? They ambushed us instead of having a straight-up fight, so either they¡¯re cautious of me or know what Vivienne can do. It has to be the former because if they knew about Vivienne¡¯s power, they¡¯d know a cage can¡¯t possibly hold her. They left me locked inside a room without a guard, meaning that at least one of them has a power related to recon or sensing. Otherwise, leaving an unknown Neuvohuman to roam your base freely would be moronic. The four of them are confident enough to play card games while they wait for my escape. I can infer that they have abilities that synergize well. I doubt any of them are powerhouses, or they would leave Breeton behind. Is there anything I¡¯m missing, some glaring detail? Four assailants are relaxing at a table that¡¯s built for six. There are six fucking chairs. Where are the other two people?

    My realization arrives too late as something heavy collides with my back, sending me flying forward. I tumble across the floor like a stone skipping across a pond. My body is alight with agony as I roll. The hard ground is doing me no favors, and my side feels like it¡¯s been torn open. I skid to a stop in the center of the room and let out a groan. There goes any possibility of diplomacy or coercion. Whoever hit me is cackling at my expense. I can see all four poker players from where I¡¯m lying on my back. From the dark hallway emerges a reptilian man as big as Vivienne¡¯s transformed self. He¡¯s covered head to toe in scales, clawed fingers and toes, and an incredibly powerful-looking body ending in a long, thick tail. The beast is a deep emerald green with his stomach being an almost turquoise color. His lipless red mouth is filled with fangs, and a long, forked tongue flicks in and out of it. Instead of a nose, there are two holes, and it has vivid orange eyes.

    ¡°Looks like our prisoner didn¡¯t like his accommodations,¡± the reptile said.

    ¡°It would seem that way. Be careful not to break him before we get what we want. Well, now that the defendant has arrived, we can begin the trial,¡± said the woman with the painted mask.

    ¡°You¡¯re serious about this whole trial thing? We know he¡¯s guilty. We don¡¯t need to bother with all this,¡± the reptile said.

    ¡°Yes, I am quite serious. I will not condemn a man to death without being sure of his guilt,¡± Painted mask said.

    ¡°The voice changer, the seamless design, and our inability to open it point to him being a Tinkerer. Will that affect your whole thing?¡± The arrow-suit man asked.

    What the heck are they talking about? None of them have moved to capture me after the reptile attacked me. They all seem content to leave me on the ground, but I can¡¯t afford to be idle. Trial implies a crime has been committed, but what crime are they accusing me of? It¡¯s better to assume they don¡¯t know anything instead of bumbling and saying something unnecessary. If this truly is a trial, they have to prove I did it. How far will this farce go? Will they let me leave if I can prove my innocence? Forget my earlier idea; there is no chance I can beat them alone. I¡¯m injured, bleeding, and outnumbered five to one. I need to waste time until Vivienne can wake up. I shakily stand up and hold my hands behind my back. I have a case to beat and captors to outsmart. Lying around won¡¯t keep me safe.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°You said trial, correct? As the defendant, I¡¯d like to know what charges you¡¯ve levied against me,¡± I said while limping over to their table.

    ¡°Please take a seat. Before we start, I need something from you,¡± the woman said.

    I take the lone seat facing them and ease myself into the chair. The relief I get from sitting is drowned by how much everything hurts. The woman gets up from her seat as I sit down and walks over to my side of the table. If they just wanted to kill me, I¡¯d be dead. I have to go along with this mock trial if I want to get out of here alive. Once she¡¯s standing next to me, she rolls my sleeve up. She brandishes a small, thin dagger to make a soft cut on my arm. This barely qualifies as a tickle compared to everything that¡¯s happened recently. Confused, I watch as she wipes the blade on the cut, getting it bloody. She sits back in her chair with her weapon before she pulls her mask forward and sucks my blood off the knife. An intimidation tactic or perhaps a seductive one? Neither is going to be very effective.

    ¡°Where were we? Nobody, you have been charged with the murder of Murmur. How do you plead?¡±

    Who is Murmur, and how do they know my name? Is this dead Murmur person related to how they know I¡¯m Nobody? All in all, I guess it doesn¡¯t matter if they know my Cowl name. Since the hockey-masked woman is in charge of the trial, I can assume she¡¯s also the group leader. The serpent joins the others at the poker table, towering above everyone else, and now all five face me. If fear was an emotion I could feel, then I¡¯m sure this group would cause me to shake. The pain is making it harder to focus on the task at hand. The other four people are watching the leader, who is, in turn, watching me. Is that important? Am I thinking about the wrong details? Do I have a head injury, and if I do, would I even know?

    ¡°Are you fucking ignoring us? Answer her goddamned question!¡± The tattooed woman¡¯s first words are filled with anger. They have the added effect of pulling me out of my stupor.

    ¡°I plead not guilty. I don¡¯t even know who Murmur is,¡± I said.

    As soon as I answer, the leader lifts her left index finger. The other four try to hide it, but I notice them visibly react to it. The tattooed woman reacts the worst, and her face contorts into a snarl. ¡°LIAR! YOU FUCKING KILLED HER AND GOT RID OF HER BODY!¡± She stands up and points at me until the bikini woman pulls her back to her seat.

    Unstable. Whoever Murmur was, they were close with everyone here. Was Murmur the sixth chair? They¡¯re a team, but they aren¡¯t unified in the decision to put me on trial. If I can map out their personalities, I can weaponize their connections to drag this out even further. But before I can do that, I need names to identify them.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t told a lie, Miss¡­ forgive me, but I don¡¯t believe I got your names.¡± Nobody doesn¡¯t cower in the face of violence. They got the jump on me, but that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯ll allow them to trample me. It¡¯s ambitious to ask them for their names, but that¡¯s who Nobody is.

    ¡°He hasn¡¯t lied, Rorschach, not yet. We will find out if he is the culprit or not. If he is, we will kill him and his friend. If he¡¯s not, we are looking for a replacement member. You may call me Veritas, and I am the leader of this group. You¡¯ve met Constrictor,¡± she said, pointing to the scaled man. ¡°And the other two are Rushdown and Erisate.¡±

    ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, I¡¯m skeptical if you murdered her,¡± said Erisate.

    Rorschach scowls at me as Veritas finishes the group¡¯s introduction. Rorschach didn¡¯t like that. It looks like Veritas¡¯ leadership isn¡¯t without question. Rorschach and Constrictor both believe I¡¯m guilty. I need to figure out where the other three lie. They¡¯re calling Vivienne my friend, meaning they don¡¯t know who or what she is. It''s laughable that they think they could recruit me. I belong at the top of an organization, not some mere peon.

    ¡°We¡¯ll continue our questioning. Have you ever killed someone, Nobody?¡± Veritas asked.

    Keep the answer simple. Lies only spiral out of control when they are too complicated. ¡°No,¡± I answered. I feel my body heat up from within.

    ¡°That was a lie, Nobody. I¡¯ll ask you again: Have you ever killed a Cowl?¡± Veritas said.

    She must have a way to discern truth from lies. Is she bluffing in the hopes that I slip up? Telling the truth runs the risk of getting me killed. It¡¯s better to stick to my story and wait for Vivienne. ¡°No, I haven¡¯t.¡± Less than a second after the words leave my lips, the temperature within me rises enough to make me sweat.

    What¡¯s going on? Is this related to why she wanted my blood? Instead of being a seduction or persuasion tactic, is it a requirement of her ability? Think. What are the logistics of it? Disgesting blood allows her to sense deceit and generate heat inside the liar¡¯s body. So she¡¯s a Mentalist, but there must be limitations. If I believe something to be true, does that trigger the heat? If I say I have the most valuable ability in the world, would that be a lie? My ability is useless in combat strength, but it''s the most powerful for what I want to do. So, is her power based on personal or fundamental truth?

    ¡°Lie. By now, you should have an idea of what happens every time you choose to forgo the truth. I wonder how many lies it will take before you feel as if you¡¯re burning in the flames of hell?¡±

    The question isn¡¯t whether I can survive the pain. It¡¯s whether the pain is real or just mentally afflicted. Is she actually raising my body¡¯s temperature, or is she tricking my mind into thinking it is? There¡¯s no way to check if my theory is correct, and it does not affect my current circumstances. Should I risk a couple of tests to understand her ability? If I know the mechanics of her ability, I can try to counter it. It must be done.

    ¡°I may have had a hand in the death of someone before.¡± I deliver my words carefully. Veritas¡¯ left index finger rises, and even the skeptics amongst the five look at me differently. So that¡¯s how she signals my truths. ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering, do you have any evidence of this supposed crime?¡±

    There¡¯s a minute of tense silence as nobody speaks. The four try to avoid it, but they all sneak a peek at their leader. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat. Is this an aspect of her power as well? Finally, Veritas breaks the silence and answers my question.

    ¡°We have a witness.¡± Her words come out stilted and forced. I¡¯m on to something. She can¡¯t lie. It¡¯s still an incredible power; I want it. I can use this to sway the momentum.

    ¡°I won¡¯t ask you who your witness is. But from now on, for the sake of the sanctity of this court, why don¡¯t we go tit-for-tat? You get a question, and then I get a question. In exchange for indulging me, I will tell you the complete truth. How does that sound?¡±

    Once again, Veritas raises her finger. It¡¯s a gamble, plain and simple. Could I somehow get them to be willing to work for me? I could always try and subdue them and take their powers, but I can¡¯t keep murdering people left and right. I already have quite an assortment of powers and no people to give them to. They¡¯re already organized and work well together. You know that I¡¯m telling the truth when I offer complete honesty. Take the plunge, Veritas.

    ¡°This needs to be put to a vote, Veritas. You don¡¯t get to make this decision for the rest of us,¡± said Erisate.

    ¡°She¡¯s right, Veritas. This is too damn important,¡± Constrictor said.

    The other two chime in and a vote is now being conducted. The group doesn¡¯t leave alone while they deliberate. Instead, they choose to argue right in front of me as if I¡¯m not there. Friends might be the wrong word, but they are all friendly with each other. Quite overconfident as well. Maybe it¡¯s me, but I would diligently figure out my captive¡¯s power before leaving them to themselves. They would all be dead if I was a Caster. Unfortunately, my ability is that of a commander, not a soldier. Oh, it looks like they have finished their discussion.

    ¡°I¡¯m against it. There¡¯s more to him than meets the eye,¡± said Constrictor.

    ¡°I¡¯m always on the side of truth. I¡¯m for it,¡± said Veritas.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter to me, so I¡¯m for it,¡± Rushdown said.

    ¡°Just because I don¡¯t think you did it doesn¡¯t mean I want to trade secrets,¡± Erisate said.

    The tiebreaker is the woman who hates my guts. The one who decided I was guilty before I got here.

    ¡°I¡¯m for it. I want to hear you admit to your crimes instead of us going in circles,¡± Rorshach said.

    I read her wrong. She isn¡¯t overemotional. She¡¯s calculating and cruel.

    ¡°The vote ends with three in favor. We accept your offer, Nobody. How many people¡¯s deaths are you responsible for?¡±

    Veritas¡¯ question is vague enough that it can¡¯t be skirted around. How many people have fallen due to my actions? In order, it would be Davis, Marcus, that mafioso at the dock, Froggy, Dynax, Lee Daeshim, the dominatrix woman, and Kitt Sursich¡ªa total of eight. A mere paltry sum for what I have accomplished, and my body count on my deathbed will be multitudes larger.

    ¡°Eight,¡± I answered.

    Erisate and Rushdown both flinch slightly at my answer. Veritas no longer bothers with the finger trick now that we¡¯ve agreed to complete honesty, and I figured out her power. The whole point of my proposed truth game is to give Vivienne more time to wake up. I want to figure out their powers and whether I want them. If I play off their ideas of me, I can get more out of them without revealing my own secrets. Specifically, I need to know what the two who distrust me have.

    ¡°I seem to be at a disadvantage. You all know about my power, but I don¡¯t know any of yours. You¡¯re a Mentalist, Veritas, but the other four are mysteries. I guess Constrictor is obvious. He¡¯s a Shifter, right?¡±

    Constrictor somehow hisses in irritation at my inquiry. Veritas lightly sighs before answering. ¡°No, he¡¯s not.¡±

    I wait for her to elaborate, but nothing else comes. Technically, Veritas doesn¡¯t have to explain anymore to me. She answered my yes or no question, which means my turn is over. I got played. I have to be completely truthful, and they don¡¯t. The information is still useful. If he isn¡¯t a Shifter, his physical appearance is a byproduct of his power. If he is unhappy with his appearance, I have leverage on him. The headache has only grown since sitting down. In the best-case scenario, I have a concussion. Worst case scenario, I will have to spend a fortune at the doctor to repair some form of brain damage. He seems like the type to overcharge someone if he has to use his Tinkertech. Stay present, Eryk. My mind keeps wandering away from me. Who knows what details I¡¯ve missed already?

    ¡°Why did you kill those eight people?¡± Veritas asked.

    That''s an odd question to ask. ¡°I have killed for two reasons: knowing me and having something I want.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a fucking psychopath,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°I am not a psychopath. I take no pleasure in murder or violence. In a perfect world, I¡¯d never have to kill anyone,¡± I responded.

    Veritas raises her finger, and everyone seems confused by it. It is the truth.

    ¡°How do you kill eight people and act like it¡¯s nothing? Do peoples¡¯ lives not mean anything to you?¡± Rushdown asked.

    Time to test my theory. ¡°I have a unique perspective on life. And you know what they say, ¡®You can''t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.¡¯¡±

    No heat follows my statement, so I was correct in my assumption. If I keep my answer vaguely true, the punishment never comes. Now, the real trial can begin.

 Chapter 21 - The Verdict

    Veritas¡¯ ability is a Mentalist one requiring blood ingestion of the target. Once ingested, the person¡¯s temperature will rise every time they lie. In exchange, Veritas cannot lie to the target. A vague truth or a misconception doesn¡¯t count as a lie by her ability. She relies too heavily on her truth-telling to her deficit. I want her ability.

    ¡°That was two questions from your side. Does that mean I get two as well?¡±

    ¡°Fucking greedy asshole,¡± Rorschach spat.

    ¡°Fine. You may ask two,¡± Veritas said, ignoring Rorschach¡¯s outburst. ¡°Why don¡¯t we all be a little more careful with our language going forward?¡±

    ¡°How very kind. This collective of Cowls you have, what are its goals?¡± I¡¯m purposely asking a question that requires more than a yes or no. Veritas is going to be forced to answer with specifics.

    Rorschach scowls and Rushdown looks unhappy as well. I can¡¯t be sure, but I doubt Veritas is smiling beneath her mask. I have no plans to join them, but my asking about their goals makes it look like I¡¯m interested. The longer we spend talking, the higher the chance of Vivienne waking up. Erisate is grinning, and Constrictor is staring at me like I¡¯m prey. All of them have been Cowls far longer than I have, but they seem almost amateurish. None of them are masking their feelings. I expect this from everyday interactions, not from hardened criminals. They are too dysfunctional as a collective. A leader shouldn¡¯t be questioned by their subordinates, especially not in front of a potential recruit.

    ¡°We created this group because there is security and power with numbers. And it makes pulling off jobs easier,¡± Veritas said. She still skirted around the specifics.

    They¡¯re thieves and bound strictly for survival. Could I wrest control of the group from Veritas? I need bodies to get things done. If I want to be able to establish myself in Quinstin, I will need minions. I do not have a ton of time to pick out allies. And if I can¡¯t bring them into the fold, I can get some new powers, at least. I hear a faint noise come from Vivienne¡¯s cage. She¡¯s almost awake. Let¡¯s ramp things up.

    ¡°For my second question: how does Constrictor feel about the physical changes he went through due to his power?¡± This could potentially be an amazing question to ask. If I¡¯m right, this could drastically change how this night goes. If I¡¯m wrong, then I haven¡¯t lost too much.

    Constrictor looks down at Veritas as she fidgets in her seat. ¡°He¡­ hates the way¡­ it makes him¡­ look.¡± Veritas pauses every few words as she¡¯s forced to reveal Constrictor¡¯s private feelings. I was right.

    ¡°Of the eight you¡¯ve killed, how many were Neuvohumans?¡±

    ¡°Five,¡± I answered immediately.

    I¡¯m running out of time, and Vivienne hasn¡¯t made another sound. I do not doubt she can handle all five, but only if she¡¯s awake. Veritas¡¯ newest question makes the puzzle pieces aline. I had been missing two things this entire time, whether due to my incompetence or head injuries. Murmur is the woman I murdered last night, the one with the sound orb ability. Luckily for me, I hadn¡¯t put two and two together when they asked me. I¡¯m betting Veritas can¡¯t ask the same question twice. Her power seems to be following a theme: trial, truth, perjury, and punishment. Because I didn¡¯t know who Murmur was, she was forced to find new ways to ask if I had killed their partner. I need a new plan if Vivienne isn¡¯t going to be a factor. I could try and pull Constrictor to my side. He looks like the muscle; we should be able to subdue the rest together.

    ¡°Five Neuvohumans? How the hell did you do that? Wait, don¡¯t answer that. It¡¯s rhetorical,¡± Rushdown said.

    ¡°And here I was hoping to get another two for the price of one,¡± I said.

    ¡°Are you a Tinkerer?¡± Rushdown asked.

    ¡°Asking me about my powers seems unfair, but I promised honesty, so no. Which of you is the strongest?¡±

    ¡°Constrictor,¡± Veritas answered. ¡°Rushdown, please refrain from wasting our turn on irrelevant questions. Would you be willing to join us as a replacement member?¡±

    ¡°Your group interests me, but unless you are willing to concede the leadership role to me, then I wouldn¡¯t join. I want you all to know that regardless of how the trial ends, I am interested in hiring this group.¡±

    ¡°You got some balls on you, man,¡± Erisate said.

    ¡°I would like to give up my question for this round in exchange for making five statements that Veritas will confirm are the truth. I know you all probably want to vote on this.¡±

    ¡°Absolutely fuckin¡¯ not. This bastard is planning something,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°I want to hear what he¡¯s going to say,¡± Constrictor said.

    ¡°I vote yes,¡± Rushdown said.

    ¡°He said he didn¡¯t kill Murmur, so we kidnapped the wrong guy. Therefore, I also vote yes. I¡¯m interested in hearing him out,¡± Erisate said.

    ¡°My vote no longer matters, but I would like to state that I am against this,¡± Veritas said begrudgingly.

    ¡°Wonderful. First, if you all agree to work for me, there will be no retribution for tonight¡¯s festivities. Second, I am offering to hire you all full-time and indefinitely. Third, your current roles in your group will not change upon working for me, and I won¡¯t force you to compromise on any ideals you have. Fourth, Constrictor, I can fix you. Sorry, let me be more specific. I can make you human again. And for my fifth and final statement: anyone who doesn¡¯t join me will not leave here alive,¡± I said.

    The room is so silent you could hear a pin drop. The tension is so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Rorschach¡¯s face is furious, and Rushdown looks ready to attack me. Constrictor¡¯s eyes are boring into the side of Veritas¡¯ head, waiting for her to confirm my statements. My eyes zoom in on Erisate, though. Above her left palm are two of the coasters spinning in the air. She¡¯s looking at me with a thin, dangerous smile. She¡¯s a Manipulator. Telekinesis, magnetism, or it could be something else I¡¯m unaware of. So, a Mentalist, a Manipulator, and I¡¯m sure Constrictor is a Bruiser of some kind. Rushdown and Rorschach could be anything, but he¡¯s probably a Traveler, based on his name. Veritas doesn''t move for a bit but raises her finger.

    Chaos erupts at her proclamation, and multiple things happen at once. Constrictor may not be fully human, but I think I recognize hope in his monstrous face. The coasters in Erisate¡¯s hand are spinning fast enough that their edges look blurry. Rorschach stands up and reaches for something below the table. Vivienne finally stirs in her cage. She starts to move about, and I can hear her mumbling something. The trial ends here.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to kick your ass, you fucking bastard. You¡¯re outnumbered, weakened, and you have no weapons on you. What gives you the balls to threaten us?¡± Rorschach screamed.

    ¡°Because in about a minute, you¡¯re all going to die. Painfully. So decide now, are you with me or against me?¡±

    "He still hasn''t lied," Veritas said.

    None of them make a move, each eyeing the others and me. Veritas and I are the only ones still sitting. Constrictor is still staring at me while the other three bicker about my offer. Vivienne is yelling about being stuck in a cage as I address Constrictor.

    ¡°V, wait for my signal. I mean it; I can offer you freedom from that form and make you normal permanently. Do you accept my offer?¡± Last chance, snake man, take it or die with the rest. I can always just remove your power before I kill you.

    ¡°Constrictor, don¡¯t,¡± Veritas said.

    Rather than speak, Constrictor¡¯s tail lashes out, knocking everyone else back from the table. None of them are ready, and all four of them go flying. Erisate gets off the ground first, levitating up high as the rest of the coasters float up toward her, spinning around her like saw-blade satellites. Rushdown vanishes in a blur, reappearing before Constrictor and swinging his baton at his leg. The giant reptile hisses in pain as the strike makes a resounding crack. Not teleportation, but something speed-based, perhaps? He carries his momentum when reappearing, which could be a dashing ability. Erisate launches six of them like shuriken, and they bury themselves halfway into Constrictor¡¯s chest. He falls to one leg but uses his tail to spring back to his feet. Rushdown jolts forward into him, but this time, Constrictor is ready. The reptilian powerhouse falls back, causing Rushdown¡¯s baton swing to miss completely.

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    Rushdown looks like he¡¯s about to tumble until he activates his power; I see it clearly this time. He dashes past Constrictor, rolling into a crouch. The lizard man rips the metallic objects out of him, causing blood to burst out of the wounds. The gashes rapidly heal until there isn''t even a mark. He has an additional regenerative ability related to his reptilian condition. As their fight continues, Vivienne fully wakes up. It takes her a second to acclimate and realize what¡¯s happening. Her eyes focus on me, and I nod. She transforms, obliterating the cage she¡¯s held in. She quickly closes the gap to where the other three are fighting.

    ¡°The lizard has sided with us, V,¡± I shouted.

    More coasters fly down from above, aiming at Vivienne. The metal discs ding off of her as she tries to bat them out of the air. I¡¯m in no condition to get involved, but Veritas is up, and she heads over to help the others. Another swipe of Constrictor¡¯s tail knocks Veritas to the floor. Vivienne tries to get closer but Erisate is keeping her at bay as more of the metal hexagons swarm around her. The floating woman¡¯s top is nearly completely gone, with only two plates hovering in front of her nipples. Her outfit isn¡¯t made for fashion; it¡¯s made for function. Rushdown is wary of Constrictor¡¯s tail and keeps fake dashing to trip the lizard up. The giant reptile just ignores Rushdown and leaps up at Erisate, trying to claw at her. Erisate deftly dodges him, and the two rings floating around her head race through the air at him. One ring slides over his head onto his neck, and the other loops onto his tail. She throws a hand toward the ground, and Constrictor is brought back to the floor hard.

    ¡°There¡¯s still time to stop this, and we can go back to before tonight happened,¡± Veritas called out, slowly standing up.

    ¡°I refuse,¡± Constrictor said.

    His attack on Erisate served as an excellent distraction, and Vivienne is free to get involved now. None of them realize that the longer this goes on, the lower the chance of winning becomes, not that they ever had much of a chance to begin with. Rushdown charges her, baton in hand, and she lets the weapon bounce off her harmlessly. She shuffles forward with a form reminiscent of a boxer and whips her leg up before bringing it down on top of him. Rushdown takes the blow right onto his shoulder, and it crunches. He cries out as her mangled arm hangs loosely at his side. Before he can make another move, Vivienne spin-kicks him backward. Veritas is still hurt, and now Rushdown is handled as well¡ªtwo down, two to go.

    Vivienne walks over to the trapped lizard, grabbing the metal that¡¯s pinning him down. The metal melts into goop in her hands. The burns she creates on Constrictor quickly heal, and now it¡¯s two-on-one. Rorschach chooses now to enter the fray, flanked by two pitch-black hawks and tens of similarly colored mice. Those are the same mice that were all over the place. She was watching me from the moment I woke up. One of her birds flies straight at V and explodes on contact. A dark black cloud of vapor covers Vivienne¡¯s head and she tries to wave it away as the second bird hits her. When I look away to check on the other fight, I see Constrictor squeezing Erisate with his tail. She¡¯s bleeding from several claw marks all over her body. It¡¯s a good thing I only need her alive, not in peak condition, to take her power. His form is covered in half-buried pieces of metal. He looks more like a dinosaur with all the plates sticking out of him.

    ¡°Bring her to me!¡± I yelled out to him.

    ¡°Put her over there,¡± I said, pointing to the table.

    Vivienne, meanwhile, finishes destroying all of the little inky creatures. She dispatches Rorschach with a palm strike to the forehead, knocking her out. V steps over her and joins me at the table. Constrictor comes over to stand before me, drags the woman over to me, and throws her onto the table. His claws and tail are drenched in blood, discoloring the green with muddy red streaks. It would be imposing if I didn¡¯t have my obsidian Valkyrie beside me. Flanked by these two monsters, I am once again in a position of power. I stand up carefully and limp over to Veritas. My head is quite cloudy, and my thoughts are getting muddled.

    ¡°Veritas, forgive the theatrics, but as you see, you were never in control. Now, are you willing to bend the knee, or will you die along with the other members of your cabal?¡±

    ¡°I refuse,¡± Veritas said as she pulled a gun from behind her back. Vivienne jumps in front of me as Veritas unloads the full magazine. Constrictor pounces on her and claws out Veritas¡¯ throat.

    ¡°NO!¡± Rushdown yelled, dashing at us.

    Constrictor¡¯s tail intercepts the charge, impaling him through the chest.

    ¡°Why did you kill them?¡± Two powers that he has stopped me from getting, I need to correct him. If I could be angry, I¡¯d be furious. That power was mine to take. That snake robbed me of another personality piece.

    ¡°What? She just tried to kill you, and Rushdown wouldn¡¯t have given up without a fight. You¡¯re welcome, man,¡± Constrictor said.

    ¡°V, break his arm repeatedly,¡± I commanded.

    Before he can react, Vivienne grabs him. Despite their similar sizes, she picks him up like a child and snaps his elbow backward. He briefly struggles against her grasp but gives up after not budging her. It¡¯s a vicious war as his regeneration fights against V¡¯s heat. His skin blisters and pops before new skin and scales form. The point is to show him never to act without permission. She waits for the elbow to right itself before snapping it back again. To Constrictor¡¯s credit, he doesn¡¯t cry out or whine and just accepts the punishment she doles out. She repeatedly breaks the elbow six times before I hold a hand up to stop her.

    ¡°Just a heads up, Lizzy, Nobody is a bit of a control freak,¡± Vivienne said.

    He doesn¡¯t respond to Vivienne¡¯s taunt or warning. She drops him, and they follow me as I limp over to the table to sit down. Good, I can¡¯t have insubordination in my organization. Vivienne showed him the stick; now I can show him the carrot. I¡¯m beginning to feel light-headed from all the competing injuries I¡¯ve sustained tonight. My hoodie is soaked with all the blood I¡¯ve lost. I still have no idea what time it is, and I have my meeting with Maria tomorrow or today, depending on the time. I must collect my powers and pawns before rushing to the doctor. I¡¯m going to have to show off my ability. I don¡¯t have to explain it to them.

    ¡°I said that I could make you human, and I meant that. You probably won¡¯t understand what¡¯s happening, but I will explain it at a later date. Understand this; you are now and forever intrinsically linked with me. If I prosper, you prosper, and my enemies are yours. Now take my hand, and I¡¯ll free you from the monster you¡¯ve become,¡± I said.

    His scaly-clawed hand dwarfs mine as we touch, and I activate my power. He doesn¡¯t complain or even twitch as I take from him. As the five minutes go by, he morphs back into a human. His scales change into skin, and his tail shrinks as it¡¯s absorbed back into his body. The rest of him gradually loses its more reptilian features until all that¡¯s left is a naked, completely hairless, black man. He¡¯s slightly taller than me, but where I have a swimmer¡¯s physique, he¡¯s more of a Hollywood leading man type. It¡¯s no wonder he was so upset about his appearance if he used to look like this. Vanity isn¡¯t something I¡¯ve ever cared about beyond being a tool to use. I feel his ability inside me, a hybrid Bruiser/Alter. The personality piece is troubling. Self-loathing is not something I want, and I already have some negative traits inside me. I will deal with it later on.

    Constrictor hasn¡¯t moved an inch, mesmerized by the human body he has again. While he¡¯s dazed, I move on to taking Erisate¡¯s power. Being knocked out prevents her from doing anything to stop me¡ªanother power nestled inside me for safekeeping. She¡¯s classified as a Manipulator. She has some sort of limited energy inside of her that she can imbue into other objects. It regenerates daily, but it¡¯s a minuscule amount. Imbuing an object with enough of her internal energy granted her a form of telekinesis over said object. What an extraordinary ability, Erisate used it so effectively as well. Her loss is my gain; unlike Constrictor, she¡¯s given me curiosity. What an auspicious evening.

    ¡°I completed my promise to you. Now it is time you earned the gift I¡¯ve given you, Constrictor,¡± I said.

    ¡°Sorry, yeah. Even after Veritas confirmed your words, I was skeptical. I never thought I¡¯d ever see my own skin again. Whatever you want, Nobody, it¡¯s yours. You¡¯ve given me something priceless. And call me Isaiah. Constrictor is dead now,¡± he said happily.

    I can use him to try and coax V into the role I¡¯d like for her.

    ¡°Well, Isaiah, welcome aboard. I think you¡¯ll find me quite a pragmatic boss. I reward competence and punish failure. My goals go far beyond these meager pissing contests between wastrels and petty thieves,¡± I said, motioning around the room. ¡°For now, kill Erisate and bring me Rorschach.¡±

    Vivienne stays transformed by my side, taking her job as my bodyguard quite seriously. After letting us get ambushed and abducted, she probably thinks I intend to punish her. In truth, I do not blame her for that. Both of us have a lot to learn. She did incredibly well in that fight and protected me. Her strengths lie in the open, confronting things head-on. Isaiah can be my man in the shadows. It¡¯s only right, as I now own his future. Still in his birthday suit, Isaiah shatters one of the beer bottles from the table. Without even blinking, he jabs it into Erisate¡¯s throat. It slices her carotid artery, erupting and covering Isaiah in red. Crimson droplets drip down his body as he moves to get Rorschach. He picks her off the ground and hoists her over his shoulder.

    ¡°What do you wanna do with her?¡±

    ¡°Tell me about her, everything you know.¡±

    ¡°She runs, sorry, ran reconnaissance for our group. She¡¯s a Ruler capable of creating animals made of ink. She can see and hear anything that they do. Her power lets her process all of the varying sources of information at once. Because her creatures are made of ink, they¡¯re incredibly weak. She¡¯s got a nasty personality and isn¡¯t a fighter. She¡¯s squeamish around violence and blood. Do you want me to kill her too?¡± Isaiah asked.

    ¡°It depends. Will she fall in line? When faced with the reality of her situation, will she capitulate?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s headstrong and was the one of us closest with Murmur. They were actual friends. She¡¯ll join if the money is good. If you did kill Murmur, and Rorschach finds out, she¡¯ll try to get revenge. She¡¯s an extremely capable asset for a crew. But only if she doesn¡¯t think you committed the crime. I¡¯m not saying that you did, and I don¡¯t care. I don¡¯t even care how you cured me. You have more than earned my loyalty.¡±

    ¡°Your words mean nothing without action behind them. Not to say your loyalty isn¡¯t appreciated, but it will be tested. Speaking of, who was the witness that came to you and said that I killed Murmur?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Some drug dealer obsessed with body mods named Santiago Skull. Said he saw you murder Murmur. He gave us your name, description, and the make and model of that white SUV. Rorschach sent out some ink birds, and that¡¯s how we found you,¡± he answered.

    ¡°That creepy Halloween fuckface? He¡¯s the reason I woke up in a cage? I swear I¡¯m gonna fucking cook him. Nobody, we¡¯re going after him, right?¡± Viviene asked me.

    She used the word we. Already, she¡¯s falling into a referential role. If I can get the doctor to agree to lie to Rorschach for me, I can bring her to my side. I¡¯d prefer not to kill her and find someone else to run recon for me. I don¡¯t know if her power would take a while to master. The doctor may be the next chess piece my organization needs.

    ¡°Yes, but we¡¯re going to use him before that. Isaiah, tie up Rorschach and put some clothes on. Vivienne, find the vehicle and make sure the package is secure.¡±

    With my instructions, they split up to accomplish their tasks. While the two of them are away, I pull my shirt up to inspect my body¡ªnew bruises from tonight litter my chest and sides. The stitches are ripped wide open, and the gash is even larger. A shocking amount of blood oozes from the hole. It¡¯s worse than I thought. I might not make it to the doctor conscious. Shakily, I rise from my seat to take a look at Veritas. Collapsed on the ground with a chunk of her throat missing, she looks less like a judge and more like an executed prisoner. Cutting her mask loose reveals a woman so unremarkable, so unrecognizably plain. She could¡¯ve been anyone: a barista, a lawyer, a police officer, or a congresswoman. She would¡¯ve been a good soldier.

    Isaiah returns first, wearing the bottom half of Rushdown¡¯s costume. It barely contains the large man¡¯s thighs, and the ends of the pants are ripped. He¡¯s carrying a trash bag slung over his shoulder that has to contain Rorschach. Vivienne shows up after another ten minutes, no longer in her shifted form. She¡¯s holding her keys in her hand.

    ¡°Found the car, and the package is still there. We can leave when you¡¯re ready. Oh, and you finally put on some clothes. Look at you, shuffling around in your slutty little hot pants,¡± Vivienne¡¯s laughter echoed in the quiet room.

    ¡°Count yourself lucky. Take a look at the pinnacle of the male form. I was stuck as a disgusting reptilian creature for the last seventeen years. I¡¯m committed to wearing as few clothes as possible. We don¡¯t have to wear uniforms, do we, Nobody?¡± Isaiah asked tentatively.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care what you wear as long as you can follow orders. Vivienne, rip Veritas¡¯ cape into strips. Then I¡¯ll need your assistance to wrap up my torso, my stitches opened. Go quickly. We need to visit the doctor again.¡± My last couple of words came out slurred. The fogginess that has been clouding my thoughts all night is making it hard to focus. My vision is darkening, and I must give proper instructions before passing out. If I want this organization to work, then I need to be able to trust V to accomplish goals.

    ¡°V, bring me back to the doctor. It¡¯s all in your hands now.¡± Vivienne will rise to the occasion, or I might not live to see the sunrise. It¡¯s all in your hands now, Vivienne.

 Chapter 22 - Plotting and Planning.

    Fading in and out of consciousness, I hear smidges of conversations. Vivienne sounds incensed about something, arguing with the doctor.

    ¡°You will fix him, or else,¡± she said.

    ¡°You are not in any position to threaten me. I hold all the cards,¡± the doctor replied.

    ¡°We can figure out the payment after you save his life.¡±

    ¡°Did I miss the sign outside that says free healthcare? Oh yeah, there isn¡¯t one because I¡¯m not running a fucking charity.¡±

    I hear the sound of an impact and then a clang. I¡¯m in too much pain to see what caused it.

    ¡°Just do your job,¡± Vivienne said.

    A prick in my arm followed by warmth means the IV is inserted. Some cocktail of chemicals and sedatives flows into me as I drift back to sleep.

    <hr>

    My head hurts less when I wake up for what I assume is the second time. My mouth is like sandpaper; it¡¯s so dry. My entire body is tingling, and my brain feels like it¡¯s covered in pins. Everything feels weird.

    ¡°How¡¯s he holding up?¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°His vitals are steady, and the transfusion was successful. I had to use several irreplaceable pieces from my collection. This will cost you and your boss a lot of money. You can¡¯t just purchase Tinkertech; you have to trade for it. Some of those Tinkerers might be dead, and I¡¯ll have no way of getting more,¡± the doctor said.

    ¡°We can figure out compensation once Nobody is awake. I¡¯ll wait outside until he¡¯s awake,¡± Vivienne replied as she left the room.

    Their voices turn to quiet gibberish as I fall back to sleep. I¡¯m not out of the woods yet.

    <hr>

    When I rejoin the land of the conscious, I¡¯ve made significant progress toward recovery. My fingers stir as I fidget in place. There¡¯s no pain or stiffness, so the doctor¡¯s words were correct. He pulled out all the stops. Your compliance will be rewarded handsomely. Depending on the time, I¡¯ll be able to make my meeting with Maria. Carefully, I open my eyes and see the operating room. The metal tray to my left is covered in strange empty syringes, bloody cutting instruments, and oddly shaped vials. What was in the vials? Why are they shaped like that? Did he use all of that on me? How bad were my injuries if I needed all that?

    My legs swing around as I sit up on the table. My shirt and pants were completely removed during my medically induced nap. The only articles they left on were my boxers, socks, and helmet. My body looks thinner and resembles my state after my stay at the BNA facility. I¡¯ve lost quite a bit of mass. My eyes wander the room, and every tiny detail draws my focus. The boxes and machinery I mostly ignored during my first visit seem much more fascinating. Is this curiosity? Oh, Erisate, thank you for this wonderful gift. It¡¯s like a nagging urge to explore. No, nagging is the wrong word. It¡¯s like a dog pawing at you for attention. It¡¯s a pleasant thing, not an annoyance. The recognition of Erisate¡¯s present transitions into Murmur¡¯s addition to my personality puzzle: joy. I¡¯m happy that I survived.

    ¡°I¡¯m awake,¡± I called, rotating my jaw inside my helmet. ¡°Doctor, please come in. Vivienne, you too.¡±

    The doctor comes in wearing another eccentric outfit. A black fishnet shirt that shows off his torso, with only black electrical tape to cover his nipples. He¡¯s got a thick black choker on with a single gold ring attached to it. Zebra-striped harem pants that match his ripped labcoat and thigh-high black latex boots complete the man¡¯s loud ensemble. I cannot deny his skills, regardless of the way he dresses. Vivienne follows behind him and is carrying my clothes. Even more for her to incinerate to get rid of the DNA evidence, I¡¯m running through outfits too quickly.

    ¡°Damn, doc fixed you up, huh? No scarring or stitches, Nobody. But are you thinner now?¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°He is. I was forced to use a couple of different drugs to hasten his recovery process. When combined, they accelerate your body¡¯s natural healing effect by devouring your body¡¯s excess fats and sugars. Then I put a synthetic skin patch on the inside of the giant gaping wound you had. It¡¯ll hold your skin together and then eventually dissolve. That¡¯s how you ended up with no scarring. Heads up, when it does dissolve, your piss will be neon green for a bit. You¡¯ll be weaker for a few weeks and need to increase your caloric intake by a significant margin as you recuperate. Whatever you¡¯ve been doing that¡¯s landed you on my operating table twice in two days must stop. The stuff I used isn¡¯t exactly top-of-the-line. In exchange for the rapid healing, you¡¯ll feel fatigued. That¡¯s my professional opinion. I also gave you several hemogenerative and osteorestorative serums. You do have a concussion, but it isn¡¯t anything serious,¡± he said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take your advice under consideration. You certainly spared no expense,¡± I replied.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t. Your compatriot told me you would more than graciously compensate me because the cost of what I spent on you is in the seven-digit range. I¡¯m no philanthropist out to help people in need. If you can¡¯t pay me, you can¡¯t leave, Mr Nobody,¡± he threatened. Mechanical arms drop down out of the ceiling with various armaments on them, complete with laser sights. Quickly, Vivienne and I have a dozen lasers focused on us. That is not good. I don¡¯t have a million dollars lying around, and I can¡¯t kill him without upsetting the local criminal community. There¡¯s no telling who he knows or what kind of nasty surprises he has here.

    ¡°Get the lasers off of us before things go any further. You don¡¯t have enough artillery to put me down,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°Everybody relax. V, he¡¯s right. He¡¯s entitled to secure his property in any way he sees fit. The man is running a business and requires payment for services rendered.¡± I¡¯m going to need to take a risk. ¡°Instead of money, I¡¯d like to make you an offer,¡± I said.

    ¡°What kind of offer do you have that you think is worth over a million dollars?¡± He asked.

    ¡°You¡¯re obsessed with Tinkerers and the wonders they create. It¡¯s probably why you opened this clinic in the first place¡ªall to get closer to the object of your obsession, trading medical care for fantastical creations. What about instead of constantly hoarding Tinkertech and doing everything you can to collect it, you can be the one to make it? I can give you the one thing you¡¯ve always wanted. I can make you a Tinkerer.¡± I don¡¯t have to tell them everything, but giving out a bit of information won¡¯t harm me too much.

    ¡°Bullshit. There¡¯s no way to make someone a Tinkerer. And if there were, it wouldn¡¯t come from you two broke bitches,¡± he spat.

    ¡°Seems like you didn¡¯t learn your lesson earlier,¡± Vivienne said before she raised her hand to him. ¡°You will treat us with respect, or I will rip your fake arm off and beat you to death with it.¡±

    Without even communicating it to her, Vivienne has perfectly played the role of Bad Cop. She does compliment my style as Nobody. I¡¯ve decided, after everything that¡¯s happened, that Vivienne will be my lieutenant.

    ¡°It still sounds like unbelievable horse piss. How would you even accomplish this miracle, mystery man?¡± He said sarcastically.

    Despite his remarks, I can see a manic look in his eyes through his goggles.

    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you. Also, I think me fulfilling your lifelong dream is actually worth far more than the surgery you performed,¡± I stated.

    ¡°What would you want in return?¡±

    ¡°You will work for me for the foreseeable future. I will pay you well, and in return, you will operate and heal anyone I bring to you.¡±

    ¡°You want me to join you as what, your personal doctor?¡± He asked incredulously. ¡°And why should I believe your claims? You have no proof.¡±

    I¡¯ve got him hooked. ¡°Are you familiar with the Cowl named Constrictor?

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve met the lizard before. I¡¯ve asked repeatedly for some of his blood, and he always says no,¡± the doctor pouted.

    ¡°V, please ask Isaiah to come in here.¡±

    She leaves, and the lasers quickly move to only point at me. She returns with Isaiah, still carrying the Rorschach bag. ¡°Did you need me, Nobody?¡± Isaiah asked.

    ¡°Doctor, meet the man formerly known as Constrictor. Ask him anything you¡¯d like in order to verify he¡¯s who I claim he is,¡± I said confidently.

    The doctor pays no mind to Isaiah¡¯s personal space, poking and pinching his bare chest. ¡°What was the first thing I asked you when we met?¡±

    Isaiah¡¯s handsome smile morphs into an angry snarl. ¡°You asked me whether I had two dicks like a snake or one like a fucking crocodile.¡±

    Isaiah¡¯s statement causes Vivienne to laugh hysterically, and the doctor grins. The doctor continues to prod Isaiah like he¡¯s a farm animal. Is he checking to see whether we¡¯re faking it somehow?

    ¡°Alright, my curiosity is piqued. What have you done to him?¡±

    ¡°Trade secret,¡± I said.

    ¡°Am I to assume that your method removed his ability from him and that you¡¯re alluding to knowing how to put an ability in someone?¡±

    ¡°How very astute of you, doctor. Yes, the method is very open-ended, you could say,¡± I answered.

    He mulls it over as the four of us stand in silence. I¡¯m offering your greatest desire, fulfilling your dreams in exchange for working for me. It¡¯s a fair trade, doctor. It¡¯s slightly weighted in my favor, but it''s a solid gain for you. Are his emotions clouding his judgment? The last thing I want to do is tell these three what my ability actually is. Once I know them better and can trust them, then maybe. The doctor says something, but I miss it because of my introspection.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got me by the balls, mystery man. You¡¯re like one of those old tales they tell kids of demons granting wishes in exchange for a hidden cost. It¡¯s got me wondering what this deal of yours will cost me in the long run.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m no demon, just a highly motivated individual. A rising tide lifts all boats, and my aspirations are lunar level. So tell me, doctor, will you tie your boat to me or anchor at the shore?¡± I asked him.

    ¡°I would do anything to become a Tinkerer, but you already knew that. You¡¯re presenting this as a choice, but it isn¡¯t really. Well, I guess I¡¯m all in aboard the SS Catastrophe. So when do I get to become a Tinkerer?¡±

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°That depends on how motivated you can be. I don¡¯t currently have access to what will allow you to become a Tinkerer, but I should have it within a week,¡± I replied.

    ¡°I¡¯ll join you for exactly seven days, and if I¡¯m not a Tinkerer by the end of it, I¡¯ll have to get money from you in another way. I could cut you open, remove and sell your organs, all while keeping you alive.¡± He snaps his fingers, and the lasers retreat into the ceiling. I offer him my hand, and he shakes it.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been calling and thinking of you as the doctor, but that should change if you are to work with me. Do you have something you¡¯d like to be called?¡±

    ¡°I can think of more than a few things I¡¯d like you to call me, but I¡¯ll settle for Kai,¡± He said with a sly smile.

    ¡°Well, Kai, you¡¯ll learn that I am a man of my word. I do require something from you now, however. It isn¡¯t related to your profession. I would like you to testify that you saw Santiago Skull murder a cowl named Murmur,¡± I said.

    ¡°Murmur, that¡¯s the dominatrix woman that Mr. Skull stomped out in my parking lot, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Isaiah, please release Rorschach,¡± I said.

    Isaiah takes his bag and shakes Rorschach out of it. She falls onto the floor, jolting awake. She rubs her head and looks around until her eyes fall on me. Despite my lack of clothes, I adjust my posture to radiate confidence and purpose. Take a look at your new master, Rorschach.

    ¡°Where the fuck am I? Where are the others? What did you do?¡± Her rapid questions come through gritted teeth.

    ¡°They¡¯re all dead, Rorschach,¡± I responded.

    ¡°You killed them just like you killed Murmur, you monster,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°He didn¡¯t kill them, Rorschach, I did,¡± said Isaiah.

    ¡°And who the fuck are you?¡±

    ¡°Isaiah Jules, formerly known as Constrictor. In the one who killed Veritas, Erisate, and Rushdown. Nobody didn¡¯t tell me to; it was all me,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you betray us?¡±

    ¡°Relax, we weren¡¯t family or even friends. It¡¯s not like we used our real names or hung out. We were nothing more than a low-level crew. Don¡¯t act like our group formed out of anything other than convenience and self-preservation,¡± he said coldly.

    ¡°You¡¯re right about the others, but not Murmur. Murmur, Kristina was my best friend. And I can never forgive the man who killed her. Never,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°If I may interject, Ms. Rorschach, your tattoos are rad as hell. Also, Nobody is not the man who killed Murmur. It was done by someone who shares your baldness, love of ink, and good bone structure,¡± Kai said.

    I¡¯m sure he¡¯s internally laughing at his comparison between Santiago and Rorschach.

    ¡°Spit it out, asshole. Are you saying that sleazy Skull killed my friend?¡±

    Yeah, he killed her outside this building and left with her body. Shame too. She had that whole dommy mommy thing going on, and so many Cowls have no pizzazz. I mean, look at this guy. He''s trouncing around like a goth astronaut,¡± Kai said, pointing at me.

    Boom. Kai doesn¡¯t even see Vivienne move; she¡¯s so fast. Two nearly simultaneous hits: her hitting him and him hitting the floor. Maybe he thought she was joking or that I would continue to tolerate such disrespect. Respect is important in the workplace, and I demand professionalism from my employees. I crouch beside Kai while he cradles his head.

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to work for me, then understand that this is a job. You wouldn¡¯t be rude to your boss at an office job, right? Well, think of this like an office job, except if you run your mouth off to me, V will put you through a wall. You will call me Nobody, but you will never treat me like one. I can be likable, friendly, and even fun by some standards, but do not for a single second forget that I am in charge,¡± I said.

    I clasp his hand and help him up to his feet. He looks at me with an uncharacteristically serious face, searching for something but finding nothing. If he activates the lasers, Vivienne will kill him. It would be a loss, but not one I¡¯m unprepared for. Don¡¯t test me, Kai. He stares into my helmet¡¯s blank face, searching for something. No matter your contingencies, none of that matters if Vivienne kills you. Kai¡¯s face resumes its usual grin after nodding once. Whatever he saw in my helmet is tempering him. He¡¯s grown used to controlling everything, which won¡¯t fly with me. These four will be molded into my pillars. Vivienne is clearly desperate for structure and direction. Isaiah owes me for freeing him. I will gift Rorschach her revenge and Kai his greatest desire. Then, all four will belong to me.

    ¡°As Kai said, I¡¯m not the one who killed your friend, but we now share a common enemy. You want to avenge Kristina, and I must teach Santiago a lesson. Why don¡¯t we work together to accomplish this?¡±

    Appear magnanimous and welcoming. I¡¯m offering you a lifeline, Rorschach, and the solution to what ails you. I¡¯ll steer you into a head-on collision with Santiago Skull and make you murder him, then give you a place amongst my growing band of monsters. The gears start to turn in her head as she considers my proposition. She¡¯s used to working in a group to accomplish her tasks, and we make for a very appealing replacement. It doesn¡¯t take long for her to agree, though.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do whatever it takes to get my revenge, even if it means partnering with a killer like you,¡± she said angrily.

    Despite her words, that was the softest she¡¯s spoken to me since meeting her. People like her are the easiest to manipulate. If you know a person¡¯s desires, you can control them. Rorschach, Isaiah, Vivienne, and Kai will be Nobody¡¯s version of Marcus, Aubrey, Jean-Luc, and Maria. As I finish the final touches on who Nobody will become, they will be my shields and blades.

    ¡°A start to a wonderful friendship, I¡¯m sure. Do you know where Santiago¡¯s base of operations is?¡± I asked.

    ¡°As far as I know, he and his gang operate out of Broekam Boulevard. They have the whole street under their control.¡± Isaiah answered.

    ¡°The first move is to figure out their numbers. Rorschach, I hear that¡¯s your specialty. I want exact numbers on combatants, noncombatants, weapons, and Neuvohumans if they have any. Keep the whole street under surveillance for the next five days. Once you¡¯ve done that, we¡¯ll attack.¡±

    ¡°And what will the rest of you be doing?¡± She asked.

    ¡°If you needed to know, I¡¯d tell you,¡± I replied.

    Rorschach looks around at us and takes the hint to leave the room. Until I can verify your loyalty, you get nothing. With her out of earshot, I can instruct the other three on what needs to be done.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to need a place to operate out of. It must be soundproof or, at the very least, far enough away from people that no one will stumble upon us. I¡¯m open to any suggestions,¡± I said.

    ¡°I¡¯d say we could do whatever you¡¯re planning here, except that many people know about my clinic. And while we¡¯re talking about it, what are you planning?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°Once you¡¯ve fully agreed to join us, you can know my plans. I¡¯ll be in touch within the week to honor my end of our bargain. And when I¡¯ve given you all you¡¯ve ever wanted, you¡¯ll help me get everything I want. Isaiah, I hope you¡¯ll be staying with us in a more permanent role. Technically, our agreement has ended, and I would not blame you if you decide to leave,¡± I said.

    ¡°I¡¯m with you until I die, Nobody. I¡¯m not going anywhere,¡± Isaiah responded.

    ¡°Ooo, what a romantic thing to say. You¡¯ve got my heart beating out of my chest at your declaration,¡± Kai joked.

    His words break up the seriousness of the discussion, and Vivienne and Isaiah join in laughing. The three odd people all share a moment I can¡¯t relate to. A sense of camaraderie and fellowship is within my grasp yet out of reach. I¡¯ll kill and take from anyone and everyone who stands between me and the human condition. I want that closeness, that sense of connection that others can feel.

    ¡°Enough fun. We have a lot to get done in the coming days. What time is it anyway?¡± I asked.

    Kai looks at his watch. ¡°It¡¯s almost seven a.m.¡±

    ¡°Then let¡¯s call this meeting adjourned.¡±

    I grab my clothes from Vivienne and get dressed. My shirt looks bigger on me; Kai wasn¡¯t kidding about the serums eating away at me. I feel well-rested after being unconscious for most of the night and morning. Now, I have to go home and fix my Maria problem. I exit the operating room with the others.

    ¡°Isaiah, Rorschach, and Kai exchange numbers with V. I¡¯ll contact you through her. Time to go, V,¡± I said.

    ¡°You got it, Nobody,¡± Vivienne said.

    I grab my boots and step outside the clinic to the sun. Being outside in the sunlight with my helmet on is an odd feeling. Even though Isaiah and Rorschach came with us to the clinic, they can figure out their own way back. I have to return home, plan for my immediate future, and set up the database. I open the door to the backseat and get in while I wait for Vivienne. I see the four of them talking through the tinted glass before she joins me in the vehicle. We¡¯re off down the road, but I wait until fifteen minutes pass before transforming the helmet. Vivienne already knows, but I don¡¯t want anyone else to know who I am. The ventilation in my helmet is superb, but having it on for almost twelve hours has dampened my face and hair with sweat. A shower is in my immediate future. I want to be presentable when I meet Maria. Without the mask, I need to manipulate my face while speaking to Vivienne.

    ¡°Have you ever thought about doing more than minor protection gigs?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re referring to whatever you¡¯ve got planned? Honestly, no, I¡¯ve spent most of my life just kinda wandering from job to job and hoping I get to fight stronger opponents,¡± she answered.

    ¡°Yes. I have loftier goals than just minor squabbles with minor criminals. I want to build an organization from the ground up that¡¯ll allow us more freedom in our personal lives¡ªcreating something with staying power. It would offer healthcare and a salary that is traceable.¡±

    ¡°Are you joking? We¡¯re Cowls; we don¡¯t get benefits. We¡¯re criminals, not a company,¡± she said while laughing.

    ¡°That¡¯s the problem right there. Stop thinking like a common criminal. Tell me, what¡¯s the difference between a politician and a bank robber?¡± I asked.

    ¡°You¡¯re asking me philosophical questions?¡±

    ¡°Humor me.¡±

    ¡°Okay. One makes the law, and the other breaks it?¡± She answered.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t wrong, but not the answer I have in mind. It¡¯s about working within the law, not against it. When a politician commits a crime, they have the money and resources needed to reduce the verdict to something minuscule, if not outright negate any consequences. But it¡¯s not just that; they have favors to call in, strings to pull to adjust charges, and friends among the population of Capes. The problem with Cowls is that, at most, they have gangs that a single person leads, and the whole gang relies upon them. The whole thing collapses if the person at the top gets arrested or killed. They burn bright and fast but barely leave a mark on the world and are forgotten in a few years. Only a few Cowls, like Onslaught, Noxus, Morrigan La Fae, Atticus, Whore of Babylon, and Mr. Magnificent, have accomplished things no other Cowl has ever done. They will live forever in the annals of history,¡± I said.

    ¡°Great speech, but what was the point of it?¡± She replied.

    ¡°The point is that without backing or overwhelming force, a Cowl is doomed from the start. There¡¯s nothing like the Heroes¡¯ Union or the BNA for us. I aim to change that, to create something that will survive past me and leave a lasting mark on the world. Now, are you interested?¡±

    I¡¯m channeling every public speaker, government spokesperson, and cult leader I¡¯ve ever seen footage of. Exuding absolute confidence and oozing charisma, I must tether her to myself and my cause. She knows too much about me for her to continue to live without joining me. Whatever it takes, she will join or die.

    ¡°You are fucking crazy, but my curiosity is piqued. I¡¯m used to dudes talking a big game, but why do I feel like it¡¯s not bullshit from you? What gives you the balls to compare yourselves to those monsters?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve seen what I can do, and it wouldn¡¯t take a genius to make a small logical leap to the answer. I¡¯m positive you have an inkling of what my power is,¡± I said, leaving the answer unsaid. She can probably guess that I can also give powers based on my deal with Kai.

    ¡°I do, but it isn¡¯t possible. It would make you a tier four, if not a five. I mean, Capes and Cowls alike would want you dead if they ever found out about your ability. If it is what I think it is,¡± she added.

    I¡¯m enjoying this dance around the truth we¡¯re having. ¡°Assume that you are correct, will you join me? I believe we make a good team, and I can guarantee that you¡¯ll have plenty of strong people to fight,¡± I said.

    For five minutes, the only sound in the car is the AC.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been straight with me, and that¡¯s a big plus. I¡¯m interested in seeing if you can really make that plan happen. And clearly, you¡¯re going to keep making enemies. Fuck it, I¡¯m in. So what¡¯s next for us?¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°I want to go over everything that happened after we left Kitt¡¯s house. How do you think tonight went, Vivienne?¡± Asking this question isn¡¯t just to make me seem like less of a tyrant but because she may have noticed something I didn¡¯t.

    ¡°Kinda good. Kinda shit. The good is that we didn¡¯t die, we got the database and three potential allies. The shit being that we got jumped, you got hurt again, and I know you aren¡¯t happy that Isaiah killed those two before you could do your thing.¡± She has figured it out. ¡°I should¡¯ve been paying more attention to our surroundings. Those five could never have beaten us if we saw them coming. It was my fault, Nobody,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°Your assessment is pretty spot on. I don¡¯t fault Isaiah since he¡¯s operating with incomplete information. Also, you can call me Eryk when the helmet is off. You¡¯ve more than earned that right,¡± I said cheerily. I am a disease that will slowly infect Vivienne until she believes we aren¡¯t just boss and minion. She¡¯ll grow to regard me as her closest friend and cherish me forever.

    ¡°You sure, Eryk? I thought you were the type to be all sir, yes sir,¡± she said.

    ¡°We¡¯re not working right now, so you can be a little looser. Tonight, we both messed up. That¡¯s why I want to recruit those three. I¡¯ll be honest with you, I don¡¯t trust Kai or Rorschach. It will take time before I can bring them into the fold. But I¡¯m curious about your thoughts about all of them,¡± I said.

    ¡°Isaiah is the best of the bunch. He¡¯s got some stuff from being a lizard person for years, but he¡¯s tough and isn¡¯t afraid to get his hands dirty. Kai doesn¡¯t take anything seriously and needs to watch his mouth. It¡¯s a lesson I don¡¯t mind teaching him. Rorschach is a stunner with an attitude problem, an unwilling accomplice at best, and she really doesn''t like you. She¡¯ll be useful in the short term, but she might be a problem in the long term. I¡¯ve been on crews with hotheads like her, and it never lasts. I get that her power is extremely useful, but I¡¯m sure we could find someone better,¡± Vivienne said.

    That was well thought out and reasoned. I¡¯ll have to alter the box I had placed her in. She¡¯s far more capable and observant than I originally thought. She¡¯s able to see through all of them so astutely. Whatever Vivienne¡¯s past is, it¡¯s caused her to crave validation. I¡¯ll take over the job of giving it to her.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a real eye for people, V. I¡¯m going to give Rorscach a chance; she¡¯ll either meet my expectations, or we¡¯ll get rid of her. I hope you won¡¯t let her looks get in the way of that,¡± I said.

    ¡°Eryk, if a pretty face could make me hold my punches, I¡¯d never get into any fights. She¡¯s not my type anyway; I like nice girls. If it comes to it, I¡¯ll rock her shit,¡± Vivienne responded.

    I laugh at her proclamation. Vivienne is so straightforward, an almost polar opposite of myself. I¡¯m a plotter, a schemer, a liar, and a blank canvas. Vivienne is honest, transparent, and a fully completed painting of a person. She might be less of a pillar and more of a foundation for my plans. I don¡¯t respond, instead looking at the scenery passing by. Vivienne senses my lack of interest in the conversation and puts on some music. Despite her appearance and love of violence, K-pop comes through the speakers of her SUV. She¡¯s trying to sing along quietly but can¡¯t hide her enthusiasm. By the time we arrive at my house, the music has wormed its way into my brain.

    ¡°I¡¯ll text you instructions for the others,¡± I said as I hopped out of her car, the music reverberating in my head.

    Daniel¡¯s car isn¡¯t in the driveway; my red truck is the lone occupant. My father must be back to work already; it isn¡¯t like he has hobbies. I unlock the front door and enter the empty house. Soon, I¡¯ll leave this place and probably never come back. Daniel helped me pick out an apartment off campus that I¡¯ll move into when I leave for college. My stomach yells at me as I take my boots off. I make a beeline for the kitchen cabinets, searching for any kind of sustenance. Potato chips, unsweetened peanut butter, and half a loaf of bread are my haul. I fold the pieces of bread and fill them with the chips and peanut butter, creating a bastardized taco. My hunger feels insatiable, and I eat eight of them before stopping to chug glass after glass of water.

    Now that I¡¯m finally full, I can text Maria to ask when she wants to meet. She immediately responds, and I have three hours before she arrives. I need to gaslight her so completely that she never questions me again. My surgery will work to my advantage, and I can say I¡¯ve been depressed since Marcus¡¯ death. I¡¯ll tell her I haven¡¯t been eating and wasting away lying in bed. Shift the blame onto my cruel girlfriend for not supporting me in my time of need. Once she¡¯s feeling terrible on the back foot, I¡¯ll reel her back in and lovebomb her. I climb the stairs to my room and hide my Cowl stuff, including the bloody clothes. I forgot to have Vivienne burn these. I change into some loose pajamas and get into bed. My damp, disheveled hair will only add to the look I¡¯m aiming for. I just need to channel Aubrey¡¯s sad energy when Maria gets here. It¡¯s perfect.

 Chapter 23 - Revelations and Bonds

    With Maria coming over, I couldn¡¯t bring the database inside. I¡¯ll have Vivienne bring it by later and set it up. I¡¯m itching to explore the computer and all the secrets it holds. I lie in bed, waiting for her to text me that she¡¯s arrived. The personality pieces I¡¯ve taken are muddling the waters of my mind. I¡¯ve never been indecisive in my entire life, but now, the more things I experience and steal, the more unsure I become. Ending things with Maria is the easier choice, but a confluence of characteristics makes me question things. Am I feeling a sense of loyalty for her because of the last two years? Is this what is to become of me, a person paralyzed by doubts, unable to come to a satisfying conclusion? Does it matter how much harder she makes my life? No, it doesn¡¯t. I¡¯ve set my sights on the impossible, so I will keep Maria until I can¡¯t. My phone vibrates, and it¡¯s Maria.

    (Maria): I¡¯m here. Are you in your room?

    Yeah.:(Eryk)

    Searching my memories for every instance of intense sadness, I prepare myself. The hopelessness I saw in Aubrey¡¯s face when I went to see her after I left the hospital. Marcus¡¯ father¡¯s blank stare when I visited, and then the raw emotion he showed at the funeral. My father and every time he found solace in the bottom of a bottle as the echoes of my mother haunted him. All of these images burn in my mind as I channel the sorrow into my face. I hear her footsteps, and I force myself to hyperventilate. I want to make it seem like I¡¯ve been struggling.

    Maria enters my room, standing in the doorway and looking at me. She¡¯s wearing a purple and black plaid skirt and a navy blue sleeveless blouse with an open collar that shows off her necklace that says pretty in cursive. Black stockings complete her curated look. Maria always dresses so composed and carefully. Even though we¡¯re currently in a fight, she took time to make sure she looked elegantly crafted. Neither of us speaks, and the silence is palpable. I use my arm to rub my face, making it look like I¡¯m wiping away tears. Maria¡¯s text made me believe she was desperate and emotional. The woman in front of me isn¡¯t upset at all.

    ¡°You ready to tell me the truth?¡± Maria asked.

    ¡°Babe, I don¡¯t know what you want me to say.¡±

    ¡°I want you to tell me the truth. I deserve honesty,¡± Maria said coldly.

    She won¡¯t drop this. ¡°Okay, you¡¯re right. I have been hiding something from you, but it¡¯s not what you think. I¡¯m not cheating. I think I¡¯m becoming depressed, and I can¡¯t get over what happened. Losing Marcus hangs over me like a guillotine. I can¡¯t get it out of my head, the voice that says I should¡¯ve done more. I shouldn¡¯t have let Marcus sacrifice himself alone. He gave his life for all of us, and I wonder if it should¡¯ve been me.¡±

    I roll over, wrapping the blanket around me even tighter. The key is in the breathing. People who are haunted or sad have trouble voicing it. All this appears as a man teetering on the edge of something dark. Now fall for it and apologize, Maria. Then, we can go back to how it was before. I can¡¯t see her from how I¡¯m lying, but I feel her sit at the edge of my bed.

    ¡°Eryk, I watched you kill them,¡± Maria whispered.

    What? What did she just say? Why hasn''t she gone to the authorities if she saw me kill Marcus and Davis? All this time, I have been battling with how to handle our relationship in regard to my lack of feelings and managing hers. Think quickly and accurately: why is she revealing this now? I need to be careful not to say anything. She could be wearing a wire or some other form of recording device. I might be weaker than usual, but I should be able to overpower her easily. Strangulation so there¡¯s no blood to clean up, then call Vivienne and have her get rid of the body. Or I could throw the blanket over her, climb on top, and beat her to death. I¡¯ll have to get new sheets, but that¡¯s a minor inconvenience.

    Before I can figure out a plan, she¡¯s climbed into the bed with me. Maria pries the blanket loose and gets in behind me. Her arms wrap around my chest, and her breath tickles my neck.

    ¡°For so long, I¡¯ve dealt with this self-inflicted insecurity. That I wasn¡¯t good enough for you, that I was a horrible person, and you deserved someone more pure. There¡¯s something wrong with my mind or my heart that makes me possessive of you. I get these thoughts and urges when people talk to you, Eryk. I¡¯m so jealous and hateful of anyone who takes up your time. Whether it be Aubrey, Jean-Luc, or Marcus. Or the fucking slut Melanie; I mean, everyone knows we¡¯re dating. But for some reason, that stupid bitch keeps trying to interfere,¡± she said, her nails digging into me. ¡°Sorry, my love, it¡¯s just that I¡¯ve really struggled, thinking that these feelings I have make me unworthy of you. You¡¯re so good, kind, and wonderful. So when I finally saw it, this giant weight I¡¯d been holding finally lifted. You aren¡¯t perfect; you¡¯re flawed, just like me, and it¡¯s like I fell in love with you all over again. We share a darkness inside of us. But you came back, and you¡¯re distant and cold to me. So, it leaves a girl wondering: Is there someone else?¡±

    I feel something cold slide under my shirt and against my stomach. It¡¯s the kitchen knife I was going to use on Vivienne. She isn¡¯t trying to set me up or turn me in. She¡¯s insane. She saw me kill two people in cold blood and didn¡¯t do anything, but the thought of me cheating led her to this. Should I tell her the truth, that I¡¯m a Cowl, and every night, I go out to further the plans for my criminal empire? None of my plans for our continuing relationship accounted for Maria knowing about the party. I have to rework my plan completely. There¡¯s no way to kill her now without getting a knife through my guts. This also firmly makes my decision for me. I can¡¯t break up with her; she¡¯ll go to the cops, or she¡¯ll kill me. There¡¯s only one way to play this.

    I grab her wrists and twist myself to be on top of her. She struggles against my grip as I pull her hands against the headboard of my bed. I slide my right leg up until my knee parts her legs and lean into her right ear. ¡°Don¡¯t ever threaten me.¡±

    She drops the knife, and it falls behind the bed. Her face is reddened, and I slow my breathing to match hers. She tries to raise her head to kiss me, but I¡¯ve got her pinned down. I bite her neck, and a moan escapes her lips. You¡¯re not in control this time, Maria. I clasp her wrists together with one hand, freeing my other to undo her blouse. Her exposed chest rises as I trail a finger across her body. Gentle touches to tease and arouse her until she begs for release. I let go of her hands, and she pounced onto me, ripping my shirt off and unbuttoning my jeans. Maria grinds into me, and I feel the heat coming off her against my boxers. She knows what she wants, and nothing can stop her from getting it. At the very least, I¡¯ve avoided getting stabbed.

    <hr>

    Maria and I lie in bed, cuddling after sex. The room is quiet, but I have questions that need answering.

    ¡°You swear there¡¯s no one else?¡± Maria asked.

    ¡°Maria, I love you, and I promise you¡¯re the only girl for me.¡±

    ¡°Okay, good. Umm, can I ask you about it? The killing, I mean,¡± she said quietly.

    Should I tell her about Nobody? How else would I explain killing Marcus and Davis? Maria thinking I¡¯m some sort of homicidal serial killer isn¡¯t the worst thing and does help me keep my Cowl identity a secret. At the same time, will she believe I just have an urge to kill? I need to relax and not overthink this. She might only have a mundane question, anyway.

    ¡°It¡¯s out in the open now, and it feels good not to be hiding anything from you. If you want to ask about it, I¡¯ll do my best to answer,¡± I said.

    ¡°What did it feel like when you took their lives?¡±

    She doesn¡¯t want to know why I did it, only how it felt. She should be scared of me, not asking what it feels like to kill someone. Does she think she¡¯s safe or that I would never kill her? How is she so careless? A normal person wouldn¡¯t be relieved if their partner murdered someone. What is she expecting me to say? Because the truth is that I felt nothing, and that won¡¯t make her happy. I¡¯ll just have to create a believable lie.

    ¡°Relief, I felt relief. For so long I¡¯ve had this thing inside me that I had to ignore. Imagine starving a piece of yourself your entire life and then finally feeding it. I felt excitement when I killed Davis and Marcus, a thrill unlike any other. Maria, it was like everything grew brighter. The urges have always been there, but I could ignore them until the party. Being around so much death and destruction just awakened the monster inside me. It¡¯s like I blacked out, and then before I knew it, I had slit Davis¡¯ throat. I looked around for any survivors, and I was happy to have found a friend when I saw Marcus, but he recoiled away from me. My happiness changed to a sad fury, and I shoved the fire poker through his skull. I stopped Davis, I saved everyone, and he treated me like a wild animal, some sort of rabid beast. It made me feel shameful and alone,¡± I said.

    It''s a gamble, but it should work based on her reaction to me killing people.

    ¡°You have nothing to be ashamed of. You saved everyone, Eryk, you¡¯re a hero. Who knows what Davis would¡¯ve done if you hadn¡¯t stopped him? Anyone who thinks otherwise deserves to die, sweetie,¡± she said while nuzzling my chest.

    ¡°I¡¯m so relieved you don¡¯t think less of me, Maria. And I hate lying to you, so I kept pushing you away to avoid having to keep doing it. I¡¯d be lost without you. I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t tell you the truth. Keeping this secret from you has been so difficult and eating me alive. After Marcus¡¯ reaction, I¡¯ve been avoiding you because I was afraid of what would happen if I told you,¡± I said.

    ¡°You are the most important person in my life, the only one I couldn¡¯t live without. But even a relationship as strong as ours can¡¯t last without trust, and it¡¯ll be a bit before I can fully trust you again. Eryk, I don¡¯t care if you kill everyone in this fucking town, but don¡¯t lie to me ever again,¡± Maria said.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°I won¡¯t. No more lies, no more secrets, I promise.¡± I responded.

    ¡°In that case, can I ask a couple more questions?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll do whatever it takes to regain your trust, Maria. Ask me anything you want,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Do you still feel like killing someone?¡± She asked.

    What the hell kind of question is that? ¡°No, all I can think of right now is how lucky I am to have such a supportive girlfriend,¡± I said as I kissed her head.

    ¡°Cute, but I¡¯m serious, Eryk. I could help you handle your urges or whatever else you need,¡± she said.

    ¡°I can think of a few urges you can help me handle,¡± I said as I pulled her onto me.

    Distract and deflect. We share an intense kiss as round two begins.

    <hr>

    Maria ended up staying for much longer than I thought she would. I check my phone, and it¡¯s almost four p.m. when I¡¯m finally alone. Going forward, I need to be extremely careful around her. She¡¯s much more unstable than I ever would have believed. Her knowledge about Marcus and Davis is a Sword of Damocles hanging above my head. I don¡¯t think that Vivienne would be willing to murder my girlfriend for me, and the others might figure out my true identity if I ask them to kill a random teenage girl from a small town. No, if she is to die, it must be in a freak accident. After Maria drove home, I texted Vivienne to bring the database to my house ASAP. I¡¯m itching to explore it, and my curiosity can¡¯t be rebuffed.

    My father still hasn¡¯t returned by the time Vivienne comes over. Seeing her carry it up the stairs without breaking a sweat really shows me how strong she is. I am in great shape and still can¡¯t hold a candle to her. She sets it down next to my desk for me; I¡¯m not strong enough to lift it in my current state.

    ¡°There ya go, Eryk. Do you need anything else from me?¡± Vivienne asked.

    I can¡¯t wait to dive into the database. Should I let her stay? She pretty much knows what my power is now, so it couldn¡¯t hurt to get her opinion on things.

    ¡°You can stay if you¡¯d like. I¡¯ll be planning a lot of our moves going forward tonight.¡±

    ¡°Is this thing that important? I was wondering why you wanted it so badly. It just lets you solve crimes via some algorithm thingy, right?¡±

    ¡°No, this is so much more than that. Vivienne, this computer is a goldmine for us. From what little I could see when we were in Kitt¡¯s apartment, this has an incredible amount of information on Neuvohumans. If I hadn¡¯t met him, I¡¯d assume this belonged to a high-ranking person in BNA. I can use this to decide which powers to take and figure out who we¡¯ll have to deal with in Quinstin,¡± I answered. I¡¯m done dancing around the subject.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you came out and said that. I thought we¡¯d continue speaking in code for a while. Quinstin is certainly aiming high for your idea, not that I¡¯d expect anything less than that,¡± Vivienne laughed.

    ¡°There¡¯s no point in beating around the bush. You¡¯ve all but figured out my ability anyway, so why not rip the bandaid off? Quinstin is the perfect city for what I have in mind, and you are going to be instrumental in making it a reality. There are so many powerful people in Quinstin for you to fight, And you will have to; my plans will piss off a lot of people.¡± She smiles at my comment. Little things like compliments and making her feel useful and needed will help further cement me as someone worth working for.

    ¡°I¡¯m down. That city has some real-deal heavy hitters.¡±

    ¡°As long as you perform to the level I believe you can, then I doubt there¡¯s many Neuvohumans you can¡¯t beat. I¡¯ll set this up real quick and you can join me. You never know if you might notice something I don¡¯t,¡± I said.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a big research my enemies type of girl, more of a punch the shit out of them type of girl, but you got my attention now. It is weird, though. How come nobody knew what his database was? Everyone thought it helped him somehow solve crimes, but it being a treasure trove of Neuvohuman information is crazy,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°He¡¯s probably the one that started that rumor in the first place to disguise what it could do. I¡¯m serious, V, this doesn¡¯t make sense. Something isn¡¯t adding up. There¡¯s no reason for a random drug-addicted PI to have something like this. It almost feels like a trap, but the bait is too good to pass up.¡±

    ¡°I got your back, Nobody, err, I mean Eryk. No matter what comes of this, I got you,¡± she said.

    Now that I¡¯ve done it once before, setting up the database is easy. I take my time plugging everything in and double-checking the cables before I boot it up. Vivienne is sitting on my bed, watching me as the password screen appears. One four three two two four seven eight one five five six two one. I¡¯ll never forget the password. The loading screen starts, and then we¡¯re back in. I smile as I see all the tiny green boxes; the unlimited potential before me brings me a surge of happiness. Control F brings a search bar along with a dropdown menu. I can narrow it down by location, legal designation, ability type, and even ability tier. This is the Neuvohuman version of online shopping, except instead of buying clothes, I¡¯m shopping for abilities.

    First, I narrow it down to within a fifty-mile radius of New Farford. There¡¯s no point in designating whether they are Cowl, Cape, or civilian. If they have something I want, I¡¯ll take it. I press the enter key, and seventy-two results appear. Seventy-two powers to choose from, and that¡¯s just the immediate area. I could go farther and see even more. Some results, such as Dynax, Froggy, Lee Daeshim, Veritas, Rushdown, Rorschach, Constrictor, Erisate, Vivienne, and Murmur, can be ignored. Ten Neuvohumans were eliminated from the list of seventy-two, but I still have sixty-two to pick through. Vivienne gasps behind me as I sift through the possibilities.

    The first one to catch my eye is a Cape named Tramp. She¡¯s a tier two Mentalist/Manipulator who can see trajectories of objects and make herself and other objects bouncier in a manner that defies physics. Her real name is Leena Diaz. She¡¯s a twenty-seven-year-old Cape who¡¯s been in the game for eight years. The fact she¡¯s been active that long and hasn¡¯t been killed means she¡¯s highly skilled and intelligent. Inside her file are a few videos of her in action. As the CCTV footage plays, we see a girl wearing a gold and silver suit with a matching cape. The suit goes up and covers her mouth and nose, similar to a bandana. She has on a domino mask following her color scheme and a metallic bo staff in hand.

    Tramp is in a jewelry store that is midway through a robbery. Five armed assailants wearing ski masks, one holding the bank manager hostage. Tramp jumps and dodges around the room, avoiding gunfire with practiced ease. The hostage holder shouts something at her, but the video has no audio, so we can¡¯t hear it. Vivienne is off the bed now and hovering over my shoulder. Tramp doesn¡¯t like whatever he says, and she does a handspring off the ground, launching up to the ceiling. She bounces off it and plants both feet into the hostage taker¡¯s face. The bank manager takes the opportunity Tramp provides and runs out of the building.

    Now, she can go all out without any civilians in the way. She throws her bo staff like a javelin into one of the burglars, hitting him through a display box. The staff bounces off him and knocks out two other gunmen before falling onto the floor. With only one left, she advances on him as he shoots at her. Rather than dodging, she grabs her cape edges and spins in place as the bullets ricochet off the cape into the surrounding store. The gunman quickly runs out of ammo, and she flicks her bo staff into the air with the top of her foot. As her weapon reaches chest level, she whips out a roundhouse kick, sending it spinning at him end over end. It strikes him right in the forehead, and he crumples to the ground. The video feed ends right after she defeats the last criminal. Utter destruction, she outclassed them in every single way. None of them were Neuvohumans, but without any casualties, she fought five-on-one with a hostage.

    ¡°HOLY FUCKING SHIT! She fucked them up good,¡± Vivienne yelled.

    ¡°Agreed. Could you do that?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. If you¡¯re asking if I could beat five guys with guns, the answer is yes. If you¡¯re asking if I could beat five guys with guns who have a hostage and I¡¯m not allowed to cripple or maim, then maybe not. I can tell you one thing, though: she has professional training. Girl¡¯s a beast. Are we going after her?¡±

    "We could; I want her powers. Vivienne, your ability is incredible, and you¡¯re a phenomenal combatant, but we¡¯re going to be fighting people even stronger and more skilled than she is. Are you going to be able to beat her? Because she¡¯s a small fry in the grand scheme of things,¡± I said.

    She looks frustrated with my question but doesn¡¯t rebuke me. Tramp is nothing compared to Titania or some other big-name Capes in Quinstin. I need Vivienne to take this more seriously. She has every advantage imaginable against Tramp, but she¡¯ll lose if she doesn¡¯t go all out. This is a test, Vivienne, don¡¯t fail me.

    ¡°I¡¯ll handle her and bring her to you, no problem. I got this, Eryk. I won¡¯t mess it up,¡± she said.

    ¡°Good. We need to secure a location to proceed with the next step. I need to figure out the limitations of my power and its effects on someone. Vivienne, I have a few powers I can think of that I¡¯d like to give you, but I don¡¯t know what will happen if you have two,¡± I said seriously. It would suck to have to find a new minion as powerful as her, who is unaffiliated.

    ¡°Wow, thanks, dude. But why don¡¯t we just use the docks? The two gangs who operated out of it are gone, and it¡¯s incredibly isolated. If Rorschach joins us, her ability can make sure that nobody goes in or out of the docks without us knowing. Sorry if you already crossed that off the list of potential places,¡± Vivienne said.

    How did I overlook the docks? It¡¯s the perfect place. This is a great chance to further our bond. ¡°I¡¯m going to be honest with you, Vivienne, it totally escaped my brain. The docks are exactly the kind of place I was thinking of. When you have time, can you go down there and remove the bodies and wreckage?¡±

    ¡°You got it. Do you want me to go now, or are there more files to look at?¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°Stay. It¡¯s better if you know what you¡¯re up against,¡± I said.

    The next person¡¯s file I open is a Tinkerer. Phillip Constanos is a forty-five-year-old civilian. He runs a hobby shop that sells remote control toys. His specialization is drone technology. He only uses his power to make the toys better and with more features. He doesn¡¯t seem to make much money from his store, just enough to pay off his mortgage and save for retirement and his kid¡¯s college fund. Due to his civilian status, there aren¡¯t any videos to watch, but I note his name and location. You¡¯ll be my offering for Kai.

    I close out of his file and slowly go through the other sixty candidates. Anyone whose ability interests me is cataloged in my brain for retrieval. The final person we get to is an elementary school teacher named Anna Lee. Her power is a Mentalist/Manipulator combo. It warns not to approach her unprepared, or you¡¯ll be affected, unaware of what has happened. She has a reactive ability that should be considered always set to on. If you attempt to act in a way that would be considered harming her in any form, it activates, pacifying you via intense feelings of affection. It forces your mind to see her in a positive light and incapable of wrongdoing. I continue to read and see she has multiple dropped abuse cases from previous students¡¯ parents. Regardless of the evidence, the charges were inevitably dropped every time it went to court. There are over twenty cases, all of which found her not guilty. This woman¡¯s ability is almost a form of brainwashing. She¡¯s a small-town school teacher, and the charges always go away, so it doesn¡¯t go any higher. And if they ever send a BNA member or a Cape who doesn¡¯t know about her power, they¡¯ll leave while thinking she¡¯s Mother Theresa.

    Vivienne is shaking; her grip on my chair is like a beartrap. Her breathing is uneven, and she is radiating anger. Anna broke Vivienne¡¯s one rule, the one thing that triggers her rage. She¡¯ll attack this woman with or without me. I could use this to further tether V to me. If I act decisively, she¡¯ll see me in an even better light.

    ¡°We need to do something about her immediately,¡± I said.

    Vivienne¡¯s grip loosens as she exhales a deep breath. ¡°We agree on that. Eryk, I¡¯m going to kill this bitch. She¡¯s a fucking teacher, taking advantage of her position to hurt children. I don¡¯t just want her to die; I want her to suffer.¡±

    ¡°She lives in Fairboro. We could be there in an hour. If you¡¯re serious about her suffering, then we need to stop and pick up some supplies. We need chains and tape to keep her contained. There¡¯s a hardware store on the way,¡± I said.

    Vivienne nods and heads downstairs to her car. I throw my mask into my backpack, ensuring I don¡¯t leave my phone. If Maria calls or texts, I need to be able to respond instantly. Attentive boyfriends who aren¡¯t hiding secrets always respond to their girlfriends promptly. I zip up my hoodie, throw my backpack over my shoulder, and head outside to Vivienne. Anna Lee has given me an idea about what to do with certain Neuvohumans I kill¡ªa way to distract Capes and cover up my actions. Trigger events are caused by a moment of extreme mental, emotional, or physical stress. I need chaos to cause more trigger events for me to profit from. More people with powers means more personality pieces to acquire. I¡¯ll invent someone to stoke the fires of tension between Capes and Cowls, Neuvohumans and humans¡ªan evolutionary race war as the backdrop of our century.

 Chapter 24 - Vigilante

    I spend most of the ride figuring out the ins and outs of the character I want people to fear¡ªa serial killer who only targets Neuvohumans. I could give it a slightly religious overtone and market it as divine punishment. No, I need to make it palatable to the masses. I want it to be big enough to create a movement based on bringing all the evil Neuvohumans to justice. People are raised to be afraid of people who kill others, but there are exceptions to that societal view. The primitive part of the human brain likes to see vengeance inflicted upon those who are their betters. The poor will always dream of eating the rich, the bullied wish to see their abusers brutalized, and regular humans will always envy the superior Neuvohuman. Even though everyone knows you can only gain powers through a Trigger Event, a nasty jealousy worms inside them. And this only compounds when the Neuvohuman is a monster. There is a difference between a Cowl robbing a bank and a school teacher abusing her students. Certain crimes cause people to want a price in blood to be paid. Even the staunchest supporter of imprisonment can, for a moment, have their minds swayed by truly vile crimes.

    We stop at Lowes and purchase two four-foot sections of chain and several rolls of duct tape. Vivienne¡¯s GPS says we¡¯ll be there in twenty minutes. Fairboro is near the coast, so despite it being July, the car is cool with just the windows down. It¡¯s a dark, quiet ride with the wind racing through my hair. There''s no need for my helmet when it¡¯s so late. Vivienne¡¯s been quiet the whole ride and even continued her silence when we stopped to buy supplies. The Anna Lee file has really set her off; I underestimated her protectiveness of children. I have nothing to say that would make her feel better, and she won¡¯t have peace until we¡¯ve gotten rid of Anna Lee.

    Does Vivienne have the resolve for this, or will her trauma override her restraint? Her anger might make her lose control and fuck up my plans. I can''t let her kill Anna Lee without getting her power first. It''s too valuable to lose.

    We''re five minutes from our destination, so I activate my mask. I bought gloves for both of us; we can''t leave any evidence tying us to this. A seemingly random brutal attack on a teacher revealed to be retribution for crimes unpunished. The woman lives in a two-story brownstone complete with a two-car garage. She must have wealthy parents. There''s no way she can afford this place on a teacher''s salary. From our brief research, we know she lives alone and has no pets or partners. Vivienne parks on the street and ties a bandana around her face before putting her hood up. Nobody can know who did this. Vivienne grabs the backpack with our supplies in it.

    We head around the back to her deck, making sure to keep quiet. It''s well past two a.m., and the neighborhood is fast asleep, but it doesn''t hurt to be silent. Her backyard is void of anything except a single patio chair. There is no grill or table, nothing to reveal any touch of her personality. Vivienne tests the backdoor, and it''s unlocked. Small towns never lock their doors; everyone thinks that they''re safe and that bad things don''t happen in places like this. But look what happened in New Farford. One party that taught our town a lesson that''ll be remembered for generations. Tonight, Fairboro learns the same hard lesson.

    We enter the house quietly and find ourselves in the kitchen. I take in the scenery and make a note of her knife rack and various cooking instruments. I memorize anything that can be used as a weapon. If Anna somehow gets away from us, I don''t want to be surprised by anything. Anna''s bedroom is on the second floor, so we make our way through the house toward her. I see a locked door in the living room that probably leads to the basement. Why is that door locked when the backdoor isn''t? What is down there that requires a lock? I ignore the burning urge to find out what''s the basement secret to follow Vivienne up the stairs.

    Despite the older colonial look of the house, the inside is modern and maintained. The wooden steps have carpet treads on them that silence what little noise our boots would have made. Step by step, we creep up to the second floor with toward our quarry. Vivienne''s burning rage seems to have frosted over on our way here, leaving behind nothing but cold determination. We turn the corner at the top of the steps and see a light from underneath the bathroom door. She''s awake. The bathroom is located across the hall from her bedroom, and at the end of the hall is a window. Vivienne halts in place in front of me.

    "Don''t panic, get ready. Go into her bedroom and hide. If she makes any noise, knock her out," I whispered.

    Vivienne follows my instructions and enters Anna''s bedroom, hiding behind the door. I doubt she will be able to resist Anna¡¯s power, but if she can, that¡¯s good. I slowly creep forward until my back is to the window. She won''t see me in the darkness, thanks to my outfit and helmet. Now we wait. I hear the sink running as she washes her hands. It feels like time is stretching out as I wait for the door to open. I am hyper-focused, and the slight click of the doorknob turning sets me on high alert. She walks out of the bathroom, yawning as she stretches.

    This woman is in her mid-forties, Asian, with a hard face and extremely prominent cheekbones. I wouldn''t call her pretty or handsome, more mean-looking. Anna¡¯s wearing a robe and a hairband to hold her hair back. She doesn''t notice me on her left, too tired to be alert. She walks into her bedroom without even glancing in my direction. Before coming here, I was unsure if her ability would work on me, given my unique brain chemistry. Thinking about hurting her and my general plan doesn¡¯t seem to activate her power. I am in the clear, but will Vivienne¡¯s anger be enough to fight back?

    ¡°Jesus, what the fuck? What the hell are you doing in my house?¡±

    That answers my question. Vivienne can¡¯t fight it. The good news is that Anna¡¯s power doesn¡¯t let her control people. It just affects the way she¡¯s perceived. The bedroom door starts to close, and I quickly rush into the room before Anna can call the police. Don¡¯t forget Kai¡¯s warnings. My boot flings the door open, startling Anna. She¡¯s sputtering nonsense as her power fails to do anything to me. I swing a right hook into her face before she can do anything. The crack of my fist into her jaw stumbles her, and she falls backward onto her bed. I get on top of her and wrap my hands around her neck, squeezing. Go to sleep, and it will make this easier. She tries to claw at my face, but my helmet protects me perfectly from her swipes. Her breathing is growing ragged, her face becoming a shade of purple, and her struggle is teetering off. Her unconscious body lies on the bed. Vivienne is still in the same place she was, not moving to help me. Her power is constantly active, even when she¡¯s unconscious.

    ¡°Nobody, why did you do that to her?¡± Vivienne asked me.

    ¡°Because she abuses children, and you don¡¯t like that, remember?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not true. She wouldn¡¯t do that. Ms. Lee wouldn¡¯t hurt a fly,¡± Vivienne said.

    This is incredible. What is the range of her ability? How far away would I need to move Vivienne for her to be unaffected? Will Vivienne eventually be freed from this effect after enough time? There are so many questions I have and I can¡¯t wait to take it and find out. I ignore Vivienne and take my glove off before I place the back of my index finger against Anna¡¯s neck. And it¡¯s mine now. Interestingly, there is no upper range limit for its activation. The one flaw is that indiscriminate destruction won¡¯t activate her power. Someone planning to destroy a bridge with a missile, and she happens to be on that bridge, would not find themselves charmed. The personality piece I stole from her is affection. How poetic that the thing I take from her would make me vulnerable to her ability; if she still had it, that is. I wonder if I might be able to love Maria now genuinely.

    Now that Anna has been depowered, Vivienne is able to think clearly. She doesn¡¯t say anything about what just happened. She quietly tapes Anna¡¯s mouth shut and wraps her wrists and ankles. Vivienne throws Anna onto her shoulder as we walk downstairs. Vivienne drops her on the ground, and for a second, I thought she killed Anna.

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m so weak. I should¡¯ve fought against her power like you did,¡± Vivienne said softly.

    My voice gets caught in my throat as I try to use Vivienne¡¯s vulnerability. Something is giving me pause. Do I care about her? As a pawn, she¡¯s excellent and well-suited for my purposes, but do I care about Vivienne now? Something is preventing me from lying to her to further my hold on her. I want to continue working with her, and she is important to all my plans. I have no frame of reference for what I¡¯m feeling right now, but the idea of using her guilt to my benefit is sickening.

    ¡°You¡¯re not weak, Vivienne. You¡¯re strong, stronger than I am. That¡¯s why we make a good team. We¡¯re like two halves of a circle. Now, chin up. It¡¯s time to make this psycho pay,¡± I said.

    ¡°Thanks, Nobody. Should we set up in the kitchen?¡±

    ¡°No. If possible, we want to do this in her basement. It¡¯s locked, though,¡± I said.

    Vivienne transforms, and her obsidian form is made more intimidating with the bandana and hood. She walks over to the padlock and crushes it effortlessly. Her boots transform with her so her body doesn¡¯t scorch the hardwood floors. She needs an outfit for when she¡¯s out that allows her to make the most of her transformation. She transforms back and picks up Anna before heading downstairs to the basement. I grab a chair from the kitchen to bring with us. What secrets are you hiding down here, Anna?

    I¡¯m forced to duck my head as we walk down the stairs. Lights automatically turn on as we descend. The basement is spacious but unfinished. Exposed copper pipes hang from the ceiling, and there''s a washer and dryer combo in the corner. I put the chair in the middle of the floor as I explore around, taking note of the fine layer of dust on absolutely everything. The first and second floors are devoid of any clutter or dirt. It''s odd that the basement would be completely different from the rest of her house. I nose around, exploring the basement, until I see a chest in the corner. It¡¯s a white oak with metallic corners painted gold and has a combination lock on it. It¡¯s just a regular lock, so a swift kick from Vivienne busts it open. She has the chain and tape, so I leave her to restrain our prisoner.

    I kneel and look over the chest for any signs of wires or machinery. I rap my knuckles against the sides, checking for hidden compartments. I doubt she¡¯d have it boobytrapped, but I can¡¯t take any chances when dealing with Neuvohumans. I don¡¯t even know what to look for, and I¡¯m wasting time doing this. I gingerly lift the lid of the chest, tensing in case I have to roll away. Nothing happens; no gears turning, sudden clicking, or any signs of anything happening. Emboldened by my success, I flip the lid up and backward. Inside are hundreds of photographs of kids with bruises, cuts, and burns. She keeps photographic evidence of her crimes. Vivienne will lose it if she sees this. I can¡¯t allow her to murder Anna until I¡¯ve finished my prep work. It¡¯s better to keep this from her.

    ¡°Hey, what¡¯s in the chest, Nobody?¡±

    ¡°Nothing important. Are you sure about wanting to do this? I don¡¯t mind getting my gloves dirty, as you have seen,¡± I answered, shutting the chest.

    ¡°Thanks, but I want to do this. She needs to be punished for the shit she¡¯s done.¡±

    ¡°Wake her up and begin. Remember what I said to you before. I¡¯ll be hiding out of sight until the end. And I will be the one who kills her,¡± I said.

    ¡°Nobody, I got it!¡± Vivienne said with a hint of anger. This is personal for her, but her hang-up doesn¡¯t trump my plans.

    I walk behind Anna Lee. There are a couple of plastic totes there, and I find one to sit on as my seat for the show. What lengths will you go to, Vivienne? Vivienne rips the tape off and smacks the unconscious woman so hard that the impact disturbs some of the dust in the room. It¡¯s a resounding meaty thump that shakes Anna from her slumber. She¡¯s bound with tape and chains, unable even to fidget. She doesn¡¯t scream or shout; she just whips her head to look at V.

    ¡°Yeah, you feel it, don¡¯t you? Your ability is gone, and you¡¯re never going to hurt another child ever again,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°What ability?¡± Anna asked innocently. ¡°I would never hurt a child; I¡¯m a teacher. Please, just let me go. I¡¯ll give you whatever you want. I promise I won¡¯t call the police,¡± Anna Lee said.

    She¡¯s quite the actor. She plays the role of the terrified, innocent school teacher very well. If I hadn¡¯t seen her file or the chest, I might have fallen for this. Combined with her ability, it¡¯s no surprise that every case fell through. This woman is a menace that needs to be stopped, a blatant psychopath that cannot be allowed to live. I am no saint, but I only use violence as a means to an end.

    Vivienne smacks her again and again. It isn¡¯t about getting an answer. It¡¯s about showing your captive you have the capacity for physical harm. Anna doesn¡¯t make a grunt throughout the exchange. Even for a secret kid-torturing maniac, her lack of reaction is odd. Vivienne is an extremely strong woman, and she isn''t holding anything back.

    Vivienne¡¯s strikes are hitting hard enough to draw blood. Anna spits out a bloody tooth onto the cement floor and laughs. Her act is gone now, leaving the monster to talk to V. ¡°That all you got, bitch? You¡¯re wasting your time. I don¡¯t know what you did to take away my power, but once it¡¯s back, this little farce comes to an end. I¡¯ll slit your throat, and you¡¯ll thank me with your last breath.¡±

    ¡°Fuck you,¡± Vivienne said before she punched Anna as hard as she could in the stomach.

    Her lack of reaction to pain could be a result of some degenerative nerve disorder. Her lack of empathy might spring from an inability to feel pain. Focus, the why doesn¡¯t matter. Understanding her isn¡¯t important to the current situation. If we met under different circumstances, Anna and I could¡¯ve learned a lot from each other. I don¡¯t mind her little vice, but it is, unfortunately, a dealbreaker for Vivienne. And Vivienne is an investment for the future, whereas Anna would be a dog I have to watch constantly. I have no interest in having people I have to keep under heel.

    Vivienne has given up on communicating with Anna and is just laying into her. She is truly a master of physicality, and every hit has a purpose. The body can take a lot more damage than the head, and Vivienne knows it. Her punches are perfectly aimed to hurt but not break anything. She¡¯s keeping her word to me not to kill the woman, but her hits aren¡¯t doing anything. This is about as productive as trying to put out a fire with prayers; it¡¯s useless.

    ¡°Stop it, V. She doesn¡¯t feel pain.¡±

    ¡°Wait, what?¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°A Peeping Tom, watching from the shadows? What is this some sort of cuck show?¡±

    I ignore Anna and address Vivienne. ¡°Dislocate her shoulders, then head upstairs and wait for me.¡±

    Vivienne knows I won¡¯t ask for something for no reason. She hits Anna¡¯s left shoulder with repeated palm strikes before moving on to the right one. Anna laughs the entire time despite being covered in bruises and bleeding. I wait until I hear the basement door shut before moving in front of her.

    ¡°Ah, I see who wears the pants in this relationship. Is this the good cop, bad cop routine?¡±

    ¡°Your ability has coddled you, and you wasted your potential. I have taken what you squandered to be put to better use. There¡¯s no good cop, bad cop. My partner has a problem with your particular urges. That is why you¡¯ve found yourself being held hostage and beaten senseless. Ms. Lee, you may not feel pain, but I will help teach you fear.¡±

    I undo the tape and chains holding her. She¡¯s light, and I have no trouble shouldering her weight. I drop her onto the floor, arms first, and hear a cracking sound. Anna doesn¡¯t complain; she just continues her croaking laughter. I should be thankful I can experience pain, or else I might¡¯ve turned out like her. I¡¯d like to go upstairs and grab a knife for the next part, but this is meant to be the debut of the Neuvohuman killer. This needs to be a little sloppy until this imaginary killer has found their footing. The wooden chair will have to do for my instrument. I pick up and smash the chair into the cement until it starts to break apart. One of the legs falls off first, with the end of it resembling a hard paintbrush made of splinters. I hoist Anna¡¯s hand up and jab the sharp end of the chair leg into her palm and fingers. Her skin breaks as small pinpricks of blood begin forming.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Anna asked me curiously.

    ¡°I am draining your blood so that I can write out a message before I kill you.¡± My words are succinct and delivered emotionlessly.

    ¡°What? You aren¡¯t going to kill me. You''re just doing this to make a point,¡± she said nervously.

    ¡°Maybe you thought we were vigilantes here to deal out personal justice before turning you over to the authorities. Let me alleviate you of that notion. I told you I have no problems with you; you are merely a convenient way for me to start a row of dominoes. You are no more an enemy of mine than those children you abused were to you.¡±

    There isn¡¯t enough blood to start writing, so I stab her hand repeatedly to get more ink. A steady stream has started as I hold her hand steady to let it drip into a puddle. In the interim, she doesn¡¯t speak as I continue feeding the growing palette of red. After a sizable enough amount has gathered, I begin, gripping her index and middle finger together to use a writing instrument.

    ¡°You¡¯ve made your fucking point, stop it. Let me go, and when my power comes back, I¡¯ll only make you eat two of your fingers,¡± Anna lashed out.

    ¡°Anna, you are so quick to anger. There is no point to make, no bargains to be had. You¡¯ve gone through life believing you were a predator, a wolf amongst sheep. You are not a monster; you are a bully and a mediocre one at that.¡±

    This whole night, I¡¯ve been thinking of what to write for this imaginary vigilante. In the end, going for something short but memorable seems correct. Her last few moments are spent swapping between cursing and pleading. She¡¯s too beaten to flail or move, but I use the chair leg to scratch open her throat. Once that¡¯s settled, I finally write six simple words using her fingers. In bloody cursive, on the stone basement reads the phrase:

    ¡°The Law Falters, Justice Does Not.¡±

 Chapter 25 - Mount Olympus

    The woman¡¯s corpse is still warm, lying in a puddle of her blood. Carefully, I maneuver her body to tell the tale of what happened here. It¡¯s environmental storytelling that will help convey the message I¡¯m creating. She¡¯s sprawled out, with one leg straight and the other bent forward like she was crawling to write a last-ditch message. One hand clutched her throat, trying to stem the bleeding. Her other hand is stretched out to write the message with her fingers. Rigor mortis won¡¯t set in for a while, so there might be a slight shifting of her limbs. No matter, it will still convey the story. I grab two armfuls of photos from the chest and place them in a wide circle around the body. It is not a perfect circle by any means, but one clearly shows the shape was purposeful. I leave the chest open as I do a round to make sure that everything is perfect. The evidence, the ritualistic murder, and the message will no doubt leak out from the police. I have created something special here that will change everything.

    I take one last look around, checking for anything tying me or Vivienne to the crime. I head upstairs to join her and find my minion pacing in the living room, anxiety visibly rolling off of her. I should say something to assuage her worry. I am happier when she is, and that is a strange new experience. My burgeoning affection for her is a welcome addition to my emotional picture, especially given my goals. Caring for another person doesn¡¯t necessarily make me weak. If anything, it could be argued it makes me stronger. A bear will fight harder if it has cubs to protect than if not. If I ever give this power away, I¡¯ll lose this feeling. I need to remember that Vivienne is important to me even if I no longer feel the same.

    ¡°It¡¯s done, V. We can get out of here now.¡±

    ¡°¡±Is she¡­?¡± Vivienne awkwardly asked.

    ¡°Yeah, she can¡¯t hurt anybody anymore.¡± Vivienne¡¯s face looks like a weird mix of happiness and sadness. ¡°Cheer up; we did something good tonight,¡± I said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know about good, Nobody, but certainly necessary. Sick fucks like her need to be put down,¡± Vivienne said icily. ¡°And thanks, Nobody, this wasn¡¯t exactly part of our deal.¡±

    ¡°One of the realities of relationships is that they change over time. Our deal is a relationship, albeit a professional one, and will evolve as we get to know each other. Maybe what we did tonight wasn¡¯t good, but some people are just too dangerous to live, V. Most people can be reasoned with, but sometimes there are people who are too far gone. Those are the ones that need to be put down swiftly. She was a sick woman who hurt kids for fun and would¡¯ve continued if we hadn¡¯t stopped her,¡± I said.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, and it¡¯s not like I¡¯m sad that she¡¯s dead. It¡¯s more like I¡¯m sad that she chose to do this and has been doing it for years. Children are innocent, and for someone to target that innocence? It¡¯s unforgivable,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°We live in a world where having power means having power over others. A lot of people cannot resist that urge to harm, to exploit, to pressure, to ruin. What are we doing if not using our powers to get what we want? The difference between us and her is that we were stronger, so we got to decide what was right and wrong.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s extremely friggin bleak.¡±

    ¡°It is what it is. The world has more good people than bad or we wouldn¡¯t still be here. You can take solace in the fact that you¡¯re one of the good ones.¡± She at least balances me out. I will undoubtedly be one of the bad ones by the time I die, if not already.

    ¡°Jeez, man, that would probably be really heartfelt if you didn¡¯t sound so fucking scary with the helmet on,¡± she said.

    The conversation drops as we exit the house. It¡¯s dead quiet at this hour, and the two of us are careful not to make a sound. As we make our way around the side of the house, Anna¡¯s next-door neighbor¡¯s lights turn on. Both of us drop to the ground flat on our stomachs. Thankfully, it hasn¡¯t rained much lately, so the grass isn¡¯t wet. The light from the neighbor¡¯s window illuminates the stonework of Anna¡¯s home as we lay in wait. The neighbor continues moving around, and I can hear water running from inside an open window. The woman mumbles something to herself as she moves around. A tense few minutes go by with the two of us straining our ears to listen to the woman. Finally, the water stops, the light shuts off in the neighbor¡¯s house, and we¡¯re free to resume our escape. When we get into her car, I remove my helmet as we pull away.

    ¡°What¡¯s up next, Nobody?¡± She asked me.

    It¡¯s a good question. I have a decent list of powers I¡¯d like to acquire, and a few of them could be used to further my fake killer. I need a Tinkerer ability ASAP to secure Kai¡¯s obedience. Isaiah needs to be tested before I even consider giving him a power. And I need to start delegating to Isaiah and Vivienne to develop them and show a degree of trust.

    ¡°I need you and Isaiah to collect a few people for me. It¡¯s a test for Isaiah to see if we can truly trust him. It¡¯s important for me to have someone else besides you that I can completely trust.¡± It isn¡¯t exactly true but this will help make Vivienne feel closer to me. Closeness will lead to devotion until she would take on the world for me¡ªa nigh-unkillable fire demon to handle my enemies.

    I see in the center mirror that Vivienne smiles at my comment, and it makes me feel a little happy. Are we becoming friends? Is Vivienne going to be my first real friend?

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°Okay, just let me know, and I¡¯ll let him know. After I drop you off, I¡¯ll get started on picking out a warehouse at the docks. I¡¯ll make it secure as hell. I¡¯m not exactly a skilled craftsman, but I can use my power to make the warehouse more durable and, hopefully, soundproof.¡±

    ¡°I have no doubt you will complete any mission I give you, V.¡±

    She exaggeratedly flexes her arm. ¡°I won''t let you down, Nobody.¡±

    We pull into my driveway and Daniel¡¯s car is there. He¡¯s definitely sleeping, so I quietly slip into my house after saying goodbye to Vivienne. Maria didn¡¯t text or call me last night and is probably still sleeping. It¡¯s late enough that I¡¯m just going to pass out in my bed when I get inside my bed. I wonder if I could grow to care about Daniel or Maria. As of right now, I feel nothing for either of them. Daniel is mostly a roommate, and Maria is a ticking time bomb. Until I spend some time with either of them, I doubt I¡¯ll be able to see if I have any affection for them.

    The house is silent. I slip my boots off as Vivienne¡¯s car drives away. The Blakely home is state-of-the-art and modern, so the floor doesn¡¯t creek or groan as I walk through the house. I check the clock in the kitchen and it¡¯s five-thirty in the morning. My stomach rumbles loudly. I¡¯m due for another overload of carbs. It¡¯s too late to order any food, so I¡¯m going to have to cook. Cooking is in the same category as working out for me. I don¡¯t derive pleasure or enjoyment from it, but it is necessary and useful. Daniel can¡¯t cook at all, forcing me to learn if I wanted to eat something other than PB&J sandwiches. I grab the chicken breasts I had been defrosting and begin making something to eat: spinach, pasta, and chicken in a creamy Alfredo sauce. Thirty minutes later I have a giant pan of food ready for consumption.

    There is a couple of pounds of food here, and I plan to devour it all. I need to regain all my lost muscle. I still have to keep to my exercise routine. Regimented fitness and a consistent diet are the foundation of routines. A healthy body equals a healthy mind. Keeping up a strict routine is even more important now that Nobody¡¯s activities are picking up. I need to compile a list tonight for Vivienne and Isaiah before I go to sleep. I portion out a huge bowl of pasta and chicken before walking into the living room. I turn on the television, flipping through the channels for something to watch while I eat. A news story catches my eye, and I turn the volume up.

    The two hosts of NRBC12 are sitting behind a desk far too large for two people. Between the two of them is live camera footage of the shopping district of downtown Quinstin. There are fires burning and smoke billowing everywhere. There isn¡¯t a news anchor on the scene, so the two are commenting on what we¡¯re seeing.

    ¡°Good morning, New England. We¡¯re here bringing you a live and developing story from Quinstin. As you can see, folks, the battle between one of the Quinstin branches of the Heroes¡¯ Union and the Cowl group known as the Olympians has gotten out of control,¡± said the man.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, Tom. After Athena¡¯s capture and defeat at the hands of Titania earlier this summer, the group has become far more aggressive. Her presence has always kept the more destructive members from getting out of hand,¡± said the woman.

    ¡°I agree, Trish, but Athena is one of the heavier hitters of the group; I¡¯m not sure why the Union group is struggling so much,¡± said Tom.

    ¡°Well, Tom, several members of Titania¡¯s group seem to be missing. Now, for any of you at home unfamiliar with the Heroes¡¯ Union structure, we¡¯ll give a little refresher for you,¡± Trish said as a static graphic replaced the footage. It showed four pictures of Capes with four lines branching off each one to different photos. ¡°The Quinstin Heroes¡¯ Union consists of twenty Capes, four groups of five that each have a leader. Titania''s team consists of herself, Havok, Legend, Veer, and Vibrance. Only Titania, Havok, and Legend showed up to try and stop the Olympians. The Traveler Caster duo of Veer and Vibrance are one of America¡¯s favorite Cape couples, and we¡¯ve been told that they are not at the scene. They must be elsewhere on a mission, and that¡¯s why those awful Olympians chose now to attack,¡± said Trish.

    ¡°If you want more on America¡¯s favorite Cape couples, check out NRBC12 dot com to check out our top five powered pairings,¡± said Tom.

    ¡°That leaves the battle as a three versus four, and I don¡¯t think Havok has enough space to shift into his dragon form. He¡¯s still got a few tricks up his sleeve, but they¡¯re at a massive disadvantage. Legend¡¯s prismatic shields are extremely powerful, but at the end of the day, they are just that, shields. You can¡¯t exactly win a fight while being stuck in defense. When paired against Ares¡¯ power armor, Hades¡¯ near-endless supply of summoned creatures, and Hermes¡¯ speed, the Heroes¡¯ Union team is struggling. The estimated property damage is already in the millions,¡± Trish said.

    ¡°This won¡¯t even rank in the top twenty-five for property damage. Check out the NRBC12 TikTok to see the rest of the list. You will not believe number one. But you¡¯re correct; without Veer to take on Hermes, they have to fight a speedster-based Traveler without their own. Those at home might not know, but Travelers are one of the most frustrating categories of Neuvohumans for our brave Capes to deal with. When your opponent can teleport or fly, it¡¯s hard to capture them,¡± Tom said.

    ¡°We do not yet know if there are any casualties. Hopefully, our cameraman, Hugh, will get a better angle closer to the action. Per the Neuvohuman Accords, we are not allowed to broadcast the fighting, but who knows what Hugh will stumble upon while showing the shopping district. That''s the kind of out-of-the-box thinking you get from NRBC12; we go where the stories go,¡± Trish said.

    The camera footage widens, showing more damage. The cameraman pivots the scene to a brief glimpse of Titania standing off against a Cowl. Unlike Athena, he isn¡¯t wearing anything resembling traditional Greek clothing or armor. Her opponent is a light-skinned man with a box fade, wearing a white and gold skin-tight suit. He can¡¯t be more than fifty and has a golden aura surrounding him as he floats a few feet above the rubble. Based on the aura and outfit, I assume he must be Apollo. Titania doesn¡¯t look too good. Her metallic skin is singed and streaked with black soot. The surrounding area looks completely destroyed, and I can¡¯t believe that the BNA hasn¡¯t shut down the broadcast yet.

    ¡°You¡¯re too cocky, Titania. To think you could bring such paltry resistance in your attempt to fight Mount Olympus. And for what; defending those whose only purpose in life should be worshiping those like us. We are stronger, faster, and wield godly powers. It is the law of strength that we should rule them,¡± Apollo said.

    ¡°Having these powers doesn¡¯t come with the right to rule; it comes with responsibility to our fellow man. You are not a God, Apollo; you¡¯re a megalomaniac who happens to have superpowers. You are not infallible or invincible, and Quinstin is under my protection. Now get the fuck out of here before I send you and Athena to The Pyramid as a package deal,¡± Titania responded.

    The Pyramid is one of the few BNA Omegamax prisons made for Neuvohumans. If I could get into one of them, I¡¯d be able to gather enough pieces to experience everything I¡¯ve missed out on. The angle the cameraman has isn¡¯t great, but there isn¡¯t much to be done when you are limited to following the perspective of a person.

    Apollo¡¯s eyes glow golden as he flies at Titania like a speeding bullet. Instead of dodging or bracing herself, she rushes forward to meet his charge. The two Neuvohumans swing at each other as fists collide. The accompanying impact ruins the camera¡¯s built-in microphone, and a visible shockwave emanates from the two opposing forces. A blue screen cuts off the fight, instead now showing the symbol of the BNA, a round planet-like sphere with the organization''s letters across the center. My heart races at the sight as my aspirations are reaffirmed. That is the level of opposition I face in pursuit of my ambitions. Vivienne could be a match for either of those two, but I will help her become the kind of Cowl who could crush both simultaneously. If I can plan this right, then Quinstin will become mine by this time next year.

 Chapter 26 - Mission Acquired (V)

    Growing up was difficult, to say the least¡ªconservative, God-fearing bigots who resented my disinterest in traditionally girl activities. Shopping, home decorating, and makeup bored me to no end. It didn¡¯t matter how many times my mother tried to correct me. Her words and my father¡¯s hands could not change who I was. I was a tomboy who liked roughhousing and getting dirty.

    I remember the first punch I ever threw. Freshman year, Claire Bouvier kept making fun of my hair and lack of makeup until one day, I had enough and socked her in the jaw. The feeling of my fist hitting her face was incredible, and I knew I wanted to do it again. My parents did not like that, and I got the worst beating of my life that day when I got home. But instead of discouraging me, it just made me want to fight even more. I¡¯d get into a fight every other day until I got expelled from school, but that wasn¡¯t what sent them over the edge. They could live with a boyish daughter, prone to fistfighting. What they couldn¡¯t stomach was that daughter being gay.

    They kicked me out and called it the last straw. Nowhere to go, I ended up on the streets. I lived beneath an underpass for a while, I had nothing but the clothes on my back. Stealing food out of a few of the local restaurant dumpsters kept me from starving, but I lost weight very rapidly. The streets were not kind, but I was never a victim, even when I was homeless, hungry, and less than eighty pounds dripping wet. One winter got real cold, and I had to find somewhere to sleep, or I was going to freeze to death. There was a local gym nearby the underpass and one particularly freezing night, I snuck in through an unlocked window. I was a weak, frail shell of myself and didn¡¯t notice that the window I snuck into was the gym owner¡¯s office.

    At some point, I fell asleep, and he discovered me in the morning. Instead of throwing me out for trespassing, he brought me some oatmeal and let me take a shower. He introduced himself as Mr. Jonesby and took me in. I kept expecting something to happen, for him to turn out to be a creep, but he never did anything. He trained me and helped me learn how to fight correctly. I¡¯d gotten by with just raw aggression, but Mr. Jonesby is the one who taught me that technique trumps talent. His gym wasn¡¯t focused on just boxing, or MMA, or BJJ; he took on anyone serious about fighting. Grappling, jabs, leg sweeps, how to take a hit; he taught me everything I know. He molded me from a tiny ball of rage into the machine of violence I became.

    I love, well, I loved him like a dad. Mr. Jonesby was a widower and had no children. We became as close to family as you can get without being blood-related. Those two years we spent together are the happiest memories I have, and I¡¯d trade anything to relive them. He would¡¯ve thought my shifted form was awesome. His murder was my trigger event. Some local thugs thought he was easy pickings and broke into the gym, hoping to rob us. Mr. Jonesby and I handled them without much trouble, but one of them brought a gun. He killed the only person who ever loved me for me. The gym burned to the ground that day with his killers inside.

    His passing left me without a home or a purpose, and a girl''s gotta eat. I was a seventeen-year-old Neuvohuman and only good at fighting, so becoming a Cowl seemed like my only option. For the last three years of my life, I¡¯ve been living as a mercenary. A for-hire bruiser you bring on jobs if you expect heat from Capes or other Cowls. It¡¯s paid my bills, and occasionally, I get to fight people who can give me a challenge. It¡¯s in those moments where I¡¯m testing myself against another skilled fighter that I feel like Dad is watching over me.

    <hr>

    I¡¯ve been stuck fighting no-name nobodies, not even worth my time. Even the ¡°Lightning Dragon of the Docks¡± was a letdown. I¡¯ve been feeling like I¡¯m stuck in a rut and that there¡¯s nobody around to give me a challenge. But when Nobody showed up that night, I knew he was interesting. I thought he might be able to give me a good fight, but I was wrong. He doesn¡¯t see the beauty of violence the way I do. He¡¯s clinical with his violence, detached from it. It¡¯s like watching a surgeon clock in for a shift.

    Surprising him in his home showed me that Nobody may wear a helmet, but Eryk is the mask. Learning he was a brand new Cowl was a surprise, but it proved my suspicion that he was worth my interest. The way he handled his first night as a Cowl shows that he could never be content with civilian life. I knew after talking to him that I wanted to work with him. I even demanded a partnership, and then I fucked everything up. But he didn¡¯t hold it against me, even when he rightfully could have. He helped me get rid of that terrible fucking woman. He took the burden of murdering her, so I wouldn¡¯t have to. Nobody did me a solid and I won¡¯t forget that. I¡¯ve worked with and for dangerous people, but none of them hold a candle to Nobody. In my short time working for him, I¡¯ve seen him commit fucking terrible acts and then go right back to being kind. He isn¡¯t some angry asshole lashing out at every possible excuse; he responds to every scenario with a measured response. There is no doubt that Nobody is a monster, but he isn¡¯t a bad boss. He¡¯s focused in a way a lot of Cowls aren¡¯t. It makes his near-impossible goal feel doable.

    I haven¡¯t seen or heard from Nobody in three days. It gave me plenty of time to get a rough base set up. I got rid of all the dead bodies and then collected the small amount of remaining bricks and cash. It¡¯ll be a nice surprise for Nobody when we meet up later. His text came in an hour ago. It said to grab Isaiah and contained the names, pictures, powers, and locations of five Neuvohumans. Nobody might not be able to give me the fight that I want personally, but today¡¯s mission proves he can arrange for me to get what I want.

    I stop thinking about Nobody as I pull into one of the nicer neighborhoods in Breeton. Checking the GPS I park in front of a muted mint house. It has two floors and an incredibly manicured lawn. Apparently, Hotpants lives here. I text him that I¡¯m here and check over the list Nobody gave me. My eyes glaze over the first four to hover over the name that interests me the most: Tramp. If the video I saw is anything to go by, she will be the toughest opponent I¡¯ve ever had. I can¡¯t wait! The front door to Isaiah¡¯s house opens, and two women walk out giggling. One is holding her heels in her hands, and the other is quickly trying to adjust her dress. Isaiah is standing in the doorway wearing a fluffy purple robe. He blows a kiss at them and shouts something I don¡¯t hear from inside my car. My phone rings, and it¡¯s Isaiah¡¯s number.

    ¡°What¡¯s up, Hotpants?¡± I asked.

    ¡°That you parked outside my house?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s go. We have a lot to get done,¡± I said.

    ¡°Got it. I¡¯ll get dressed and head right out,¡± Isaiah said.

    It¡¯s so strange to compare the huge lizard beast with the slutty guy I call Hotpants. He¡¯s better since meeting Nobody, same as me. I believe everything he¡¯s promised; he¡¯s given me no reason to doubt him. I turn on the radio while I wait for Isaiah. It¡¯s basic American pop music that doesn¡¯t excite me. Mr. Jonesby didn¡¯t just give me a home; he gave me my love of K-pop. Memories of him and me doing kickboxing to the sounds of old school artists like After School and 2PM fill my head¡ªsweet times with my dad. I get so lost reminiscing I don¡¯t notice Isaiah until he¡¯s knocking on my window. He opens the door after I double-click the unlock button.

    He¡¯s dressed nicely; he shares that in common with Nobody. But where the boss wears nothing but plain dark clothes, Isaiah dresses like a less flashy pimp: cuffed white pants, Timberland boots, a loose pink button-down shirt, and a white beanie. He¡¯s got a matching belt and a watch from a designer brand I don¡¯t know. Clearly, that group he was in was much more successful than I thought. He owns such a nice house and expensive clothes. He opens the passenger side door and struggles to get in. I have a big car, and he still has to push the seat back to fit. His blue duffel bag sits across his lap.

    ¡°Damn, Hotpants, you¡¯re fucking huge,¡± I said.

    ¡°You¡¯re the third woman to tell me that today,¡± he laughed.

    ¡°Ew, brag about your dick size to someone who cares. What¡¯s in the bag? Did you bring snacks for our little adventure?¡±

    ¡°No. Wait, do you guys normally bring snacks?¡±

    ¡°Well, there was this one time Nobody did. He even brought multiple drinks for me to choose from,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Okay, I didn¡¯t bring any snacks; I brought guns.¡±

    He unzips the duffel bag, and inside are twin Glock 43s. It¡¯s good he¡¯s taking this seriously. Does he know that this mission determines whether Nobody lets him in on the plans? There¡¯s also extra ammunition and silencers for both pistols. He¡¯s been de-monsterized for three days, and he¡¯s already picking up guns and women. He¡¯s different from the other two vultures. Isaiah wants to work for Nobody, and he probably has a rough idea of the boss¡¯ ability. Having even a glimpse at Nobody¡¯s power is enough to know he¡¯s gonna shake the world up. I forwarded the list to Isaiah to look over while we drive.

    ¡°Nobody gave you this list? Where the hell is he getting his information from? This is the type of shit the BNA has. So what¡¯s the play? We crossing em out or grabbing em?¡± Isaiah asked.

    ¡°Nobody wants them delivered alive to a secure location. Then you¡¯ll watch over them while I bring him there. Don¡¯t fuck this up for him or me. See the name, Tramp? She¡¯s a Cape, and I wanna fight her one on one.¡±

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°Got it. And don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t cramp your space,¡± Isaiah replied.

    ¡°Good. Also, if we¡¯re going to be working together, then understand that I have two rules: don¡¯t interfere in my fights, and don¡¯t hurt kids,¡± I said.

    ¡°Please, V, I¡¯m a gentleman. I understand crew hierarchy, so I¡¯ll follow your lead. And I wouldn¡¯t do anything to mess up the boss¡¯ plans; I owe him too much. If you don¡¯t mind a suggestion, I think the order should be to ambush the Cowl duo first, followed by the two Capes in Shrewster and the civilian last. That way, we end on the easiest one.¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°That¡¯s a good plan, Hotpants. It looks like there¡¯s more to you than sarcasm and vanity.¡± I paused for a minute. ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, I think you¡¯ll be a great fit.¡±

    Now that we have a plan, I enter the address for our destination into the GPS. Our targets are a couple of Neuvohuman thieves named Diminish and Punch¡ªan Alter and Caster, respectively, who do smash and grabs. They have a mechanic¡¯s shop out in Rivington where they keep their stolen scores. Rivington is close to Crimton, so we¡¯ll drop the two of them off at the docks once we¡¯ve grabbed them. I take another glance over at his outfit. Why the hell is he dressed up?

    ¡°You know we¡¯re going out to commit crimes, right?¡± I asked him.

    ¡°Yeah, why?¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯re dressed like you¡¯re going on a hot date,¡± I said, shaking my head.

    ¡°I asked if there was a dress code. Don¡¯t be mad that I¡¯m dripped out and you look like a gym rat. I¡¯d rather die than look bummy,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Gym rat? I do not look like a gym rat,¡± I replied defensively.

    ¡°All you wear is sweatpants, hoodies, leggings, and sports bras. You¡¯ll never find a girlfriend if you look like you use two-in-one shampoo.¡±

    ¡°First off, I don¡¯t use two-in-one shampoo. Second off, what makes you think I¡¯m a lesbian?¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t react to seeing my incredible naked form, and also, I have a working gaydar,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Lucky guess, and there¡¯s nothing wrong with my choice of clothes,¡± I argued.

    ¡°Whatever you say, V. You should probably get a mask or costume made soon. Your clothes change with you, so something that hides your identity would be helpful. But maybe ask around for some feedback on the design so it doesn¡¯t look like a 1960s women¡¯s one-piece bathing suit. Just my two cents, though,¡± he said.

    I¡¯m going to strangle him. Commenting on my sexuality and shitting on my outfit on our way to fucking kidnap people. Realizing I¡¯m not gaining any ground in our conversation, I slowly turn up the music until I can¡¯t hear him. The rest of the ride is much nicer for me.

    <hr>

    The garage where the two Cowls live is in the rougher part of Rivington. Abandoned cars have their wheels replaced with cinderblocks, trash is all over the street, and the sign for the garage is missing all but two letters. They were probably stolen by whoever else lives around here. I park on a cross street five minutes away from the shop. I turn the music down and shut the car off.

    ¡°You follow my lead once we get in there, and absolutely do not kill either of them. Nobody needs them alive,¡± I warned.

    ¡°What about collateral damage? If there are others in there, are we taking them as well?¡±

    ¡°If anyone gets in the way, we¡¯ll take care of them, but don¡¯t kill anyone unless absolutely necessary. Most importantly, do not say Nobody¡¯s name or allude to us even having a boss. As far as the world is concerned, this job is just you and me,¡± I said.

    In contrast to his appearance and jokey attitude, he¡¯s taking this seriously. I watch him install the silencers and pocket some extra ammo. Then he triple-checks the guns to make sure they¡¯re ready to go. We exit my car, and he puts both guns in his waistband behind his back. His shirt choice of something open and flowy hides the pistols while still letting him access them quickly. Good. This has to go perfectly. I have leggings, a sports bra, and a hoodie on. I¡¯m going shopping after this. We must make quite the impression with his ridiculous size and me being small and muscular.

    It¡¯s mid-afternoon, and the street is empty of anybody. There aren¡¯t even any stray dogs or homeless people. The Cowls must¡¯ve made everyone leave. The shop is big, with enough space for a few offices on the second floor, leaving the ground floor for the cars and mechanics. The chain link fence surrounding the property has a ton of holes and is so rusty the whole thing is brown. It must have been quite nice before it was abandoned.

    ¡°I''ll breach the front. Go around and look for another way inside,¡± I said.

    Isaiah doesn''t even respond; he just leaves me and disappears around the back. Unlike Isaiah and Nobody, I don''t sneak. I walk right up to the door and knock loudly. While I wait, I transform, feeling the heat surge through me. The warmth increases with each beat of my heart. My body pulses with fire, growing and hardening until I¡¯ve fully shifted. My hood is up, and my loose, flaming hair gives it an orange glow. I feel powerful, and I look intimidating. I''m going to rock their shit.

    From the moment I transform, I begin heating up. It isn''t until the fifteen-minute mark that it starts affecting my environment. After thirty minutes, any Neuvohumans that aren''t classified as Bruiser or have a way to mitigate heat will combust. I don''t know what will happen past that point because I¡¯ve always stopped the transformation or expelled the heat. I doubt I¡¯ll need to do either until we go after Tramp.

    The door finally opens to show a groggy white male in a dark yellow costume with blue boots and gloves. And this is Punch. The costume outlines a body in decent shape. He doesn¡¯t have a mask or helmet, revealing a bearded face with long, greasy hair. The bloodshot eyes and his overall appearance scream drug use. He certainly looks like an addict who turned to stealing to pay for his fix. I wonder if that¡¯s Diminish¡¯s story as well. He stares at me for a moment before he speaks.

    ¡°Whaddaya want?¡± He slurred up at me.

    ¡°You.¡±

    I jab him in his face. His head rocks back, and he stumbles while wiping blood from his nose. In this form, I¡¯m bigger than most entrances, so I break through the doorway when I enter. I rush him and smash my knee into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Keeled over and coughing, I chop hard at his neck, and he drops. One down. Punch can generate short-range beams of kinetic energy from his palms that hit with the force of a truck. Unfortunately for him, I¡¯m stronger, and I know how his power works. He¡¯s only dangerous if I give him the chance to attack.

    I step over his unconscious body and look around the shop. There¡¯s shit everywhere. It¡¯s a complete mess. There are mattresses stacked up in one corner and furniture everywhere. The whole place smells of smoke and grunge. Nearly every surface has beer cans, half-eaten food, or a bong on it. There is a group of three sitting on one of the couches catatonically. Pills, powders, and needles are on the coffee table in front of them. None of them look like the description of Diminsh, so I head upstairs.

    Where the hell is Isaiah? Did he abandon the mission? I walk up the metal stairs as they creak under my weight and see three doors¡ªone at the end of the hallway and one on each side. I open the left office and see three people going at it on top of a big bed. Quietly, I close the door and continue to the next one. The right door leads to storage, wall-to-wall junk. There are motorcycles, clothes, jewelry, and even gold bars. I¡¯m a clean woman, and seeing all this shit everywhere is gross. I close the storage room door and head toward the final door. And then there was one. I hear voices coming from inside and then the sound of a silenced pistol firing twice. I rip the door open. She better be alive.

    The door hits something as I open it. Behind the door is the fresh corpse of a man with two bullet holes in his face. There¡¯s a couch and a large bed in the room. Isaiah is standing next to a topless, rail-thin black woman sitting on the bed. Diminish. He has his gun pointed at her head, and she¡¯s crying. She¡¯s wearing booty shorts and slippers with only one sock.

    ¡°Why, why did you kill him?¡± Diminish asked.

    ¡°Yeah, why?¡± I asked Isaiah.

    ¡°I entered the room and told her to come with me. He didn¡¯t like that and swung at me. I put two in his head and closed in on the target. Then you came in,¡± he said casually.

    ¡°Alright, the other one is taken care of downstairs. Grab her, and let¡¯s get moving. I don¡¯t wanna be here any longer than I have to,¡± I ordered.

    I leave the room, walk down the metal stars, and rip the railing off. It¡¯s been six minutes since we entered. Using my shifted form¡¯s strength and heat, I¡¯m able to bend the metal like it¡¯s nothing. I prop Punch up and wrap the metal around him, binding his arms against his back. Trusting Isaiah to his job, I hoist Punch onto my shoulder and leave through the giant hole in the wall that used to be a doorway. His clothes will get a little singed, but he¡¯ll be fine. There still isn¡¯t anybody on the streets when I get back to my SUV. I pop the trunk and throw my captive in it. I''m glad I went for the bigger model. I shift back as the trunk closes. Then, I drive over to the shop to wait for Isaiah.

    Ten minutes pass, and Isaiah finally comes out. He¡¯s walking with his arm around a more clothed Diminish, and he doesn¡¯t have his guns out. Isaiah opens the door to my backseat and helps Diminish get in before he scoots in next to her. I turn around to ask him what the fuck he¡¯s doing and see a makeshift tourniquet around her left arm. Her eyes are glazed over, and she¡¯s mumbling softly. That¡¯s one way to get her to come quietly. Without saying anything, I start driving away, with Isaiah smiling in the back. Two down and no problems. This is going really well.

    It¡¯s a quick ride to the base, and neither of our passengers even fidgets. Diminish is high as a kite, and Punch is still knocked out. I pull into the Crimton Docks, going over the turns needed to get to our destination. I park next to a warehouse with all of its windows boarded up or rather welded up. Metal paneling covers every single window opening, and I got rid of the fire escapes and scaffolding on the outside of the building. Nobody had mentioned he used both to get the drop on Dynax and Froggy, so I didn¡¯t want to take any chances. Isaiah and I move the couple inside the warehouse. There isn¡¯t much of anything here yet, only a few chairs and a table. I left the metal shelving alone in case we needed it for something.

    I place Punch on the ground, shifting to my titanic form, and grab some of the shelving to make a very, very crude cage for containing the Cowls. Bending and contorting the metal is effortless for me. I make a rough jungle gym-like box for our captives. The two Cowls are hanging by their arms, encased in thick winding bindings, almost like metallic vines. Both will be on their tiptoes and unable to use their abilities effectively. Diminish is an Alter that can shrink inorganic objects down to the size of a skittle. It¡¯s an incredibly useful ability for a thief. Her power requires physically touching the item, so she¡¯s useless, thanks to my little creation. The warehouse¡¯s ceiling is too tall for Punch to reach with his beams.

    ¡°This is the temporary base? You did good work in a short time,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Thanks, I gotta send a text,¡± I said, motioning toward Diminish with my eyes. I don¡¯t care how high she is; I don¡¯t want to reveal anything. I text Nobody that we got the two Cowls and that I¡¯ll contact him once we have all five. As soon as I finish the text, I add more shelving to wrap the two of them like flies in a web. While I do all of that, Isaiah sits at the table, checking his guns and reloading.

    ¡°Whenever you¡¯re finished, we¡¯ll take off,¡± I told Isaiah.

    He nods his head, continuing his inspection. Next up are the capes Tramp and Callback. He¡¯s a Traveler who can teleport objects to himself and vice versa. This is gonna be awesome. I can¡¯t fucking wait.

 Chapter 27 - A Worthy Fight (V)

    Callback and Tramp are both based out of Shrewster, the second biggest city after Quinstin. If a Cape or Cowl can¡¯t handle Quinstin, this is where they go. There isn¡¯t a Heroes¡¯ Union branch out here, just a bunch of solo Capes. There just aren''t any big hitters like Quinstin.

    Hotpants had the idea to rob a bank for attention. He¡¯ll go in first and pretend to be a customer. He¡¯ll only be there as a precaution. I don¡¯t need backup, but Nobody would say it''s better to be safe than sorry. This is the first mission he entrusted to me, and I can''t fail him.

    It¡¯s a little past three when we arrive in Shrewster. I park at a nearby garage attached to Bringsley Mall. It¡¯s close enough for a quick getaway if things get dicey. This is around peak hours for the place, so that increases the chance that the Capes we¡¯re after will show up. We should steal some cash. I¡¯ll beat the two of them into submission, and then we¡¯ll snag them. Nice and easy. I stay in my car as Isaiah heads over to the bank.

    The bank, Shrewster Savings, doesn¡¯t have metal detectors, but it does have bulletproof glass and multiple cameras. Isaiah agreed not to interfere unless things get extremely bad, but he is carrying. Being caught on camera shouldn¡¯t do anything to harm Nobody¡¯s plans. He wants to remain hidden, but I stick out no matter where I go. I trust Isaiah to perform his part so I can focus on doing mine.

    I count down the minutes until fifteen have passed. Isaiah texts me with a rough description of where the cameras are inside. Go time. I pull my hood up and get out of the car. A sense of excitement has been building inside me since we arrived in Shrewster. Tramp will give me a good fight. She has to give me a good fight. I¡¯ve waited too long for this. I won¡¯t let anyone or anything get in my way. The anxious energy ramps as I round the corner and see the bank. I¡¯m bursting with happiness as I stand outside the building, taking a moment to center myself.

    There''s a sign that says no hoods, no masks, and no scarves/bandannas on the side of the door. I pull my hood tighter and step inside, keeping my back to the camera that watches the entrance. It¡¯s spacious and has half a dozen chairs for customers to sit and wait. Two tellers sit behind bulletproof glass, each helping a customer. The vault is behind them, and there are two cubicles in the room for loan officers or other bank workers. Isaiah is sitting with one of them, and a younger couple is with the other officer. One person is waiting for the next available teller, an older woman. Four employees and six customers, if I include Isaiah. I crouch down and fake tying my shoes. My hood falls back while I put my hair into a ponytail and transform. I want to be at my best for her. I pick up one of the chairs and bend it around the handle of the door, locking everyone inside. The older woman sees me, her mouth open in shock.

    Stomping forward to the teller¡¯s counter, I kick a hole through it. The two tellers stumble out of my way. The bank explodes into chaos and panic, people screaming and trying to hide from me. Isaiah is playing his role well, helping the couple hide under a desk. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the loan officer desperately trying to press a button at his station secretly. Good, the police will help attract the Capes. I shove both tellers into the walls, knocking them out. I haven¡¯t said a word since entering, and that¡¯s purposeful. A flaming titan busts into a bank without saying anything is going to make them bring in the Capes. The vault behind them is as tall as I am but not nearly as sturdy. I rip the door off of it and toss it behind me. Another round of shrieking starts, and I hear someone start crying. I¡¯ve given my hostages plenty of time and space to call 911, but I¡¯ve been here five minutes and still don¡¯t hear sirens. I''m toeing the line between giving the Capes and police time to respond and not getting hot enough to cook everyone in here alive.

    Entering the vault, I see stacks of banded cash arranged in a cube on a table at the center. The walls are made up of safety deposit boxes. I grab a bank bag that¡¯s hanging on the wall and start throwing the money in. Body heat isn¡¯t too high yet. I can still pick things up without them burning. The aspect of my power that transforms my clothes makes them insulated and fireproof. The only parts of me that are exposed are my hands and face, meaning the heat will be centralized there. By the time I finish taking the cash, I can hear sirens from outside. Ten minutes. Five more until things truly start to get hot. I leave the vault with the bag and walk to the door. Outside are seven cop cars and over a dozen police officers, but there are no Neuvohumans.

    I kick the door, shattering the glass panes into the street. My head destroys the doorway on my way out. The cops all have their guns trained on me, armed with shotguns and high-caliber rifles for tougher targets. They have no idea it won¡¯t do anything. I have yet to find anyone or anything that can hurt me in this form. The police have completely cleared the street, with no civilians in sight. They scream out for my surrender through the megaphone, but I ignore them and approach their vehicle barricade. Still nothing? Where the fuck are you, Tramp? Ugh, this is taking too long. One scared cop shoots me in the face, and my head jerks back from the force. High-caliber indeed. Of course, my skin is fine. Bullets can¡¯t harm me. Little fuck. I toss the bag of money to the side to free my hands and protect it. I grab the front of one of the cop cars with one hand and chuck it down the street like it¡¯s nothing. It explodes upon landing. All at once, the police unload at me, sending shells and bullets that do nothing but crumple or bounce off of me.

    Powdered stone swirls around me from the walls and ground that have been shot to shit. I emerge from it like a demon from hell, and more than one cop yells. You ain¡¯t seen nothing yet. I barge through the blockade, sending officers and patrol cars flying. I¡¯m gentle with the police; they¡¯re just here doing their job. My Shifter form isn¡¯t just strong; it¡¯s fast. I dash right at a group of officers and snap one of their arms with a chop. Their pads and riot gear do nothing to blunt my strikes. I pick up two of them, spinning in place, and toss them through a clothing store window across the street. I leap at another pack of them and kick another one¡¯s knee backward. I smack an officer in the chest, and he goes flying away from me. More sirens are heading my way, but there is no sign of a Cape. Where is she? Where the fuck is- My thought gets cut off when something hits me in the back of my head. I stumble forward, whirling around to see her standing on the top of a car. The gold and silver suit with a matching cape nearly makes my heart flutter. She¡¯s smaller than she looked in the footage and holding her signature bo staff. Her costume is tight, showing off her toned abdomen and straining against her breasts.

    ¡°YOU CAME,¡± I yelled at her.

    ¡°Obviously, you¡¯re making a mess of my city. Who are you? I don¡¯t recognize you, and you would be pretty hard to forget,¡± she said.

    ¡°I¡¯m V, and you¡¯re Tramp. Please don¡¯t let me down. I came quite a ways just to fight you after all,¡± I said excitedly.

    ¡°You¡¯re here to fight me? What are you, some type of fangirl? Listen, why don¡¯t you come along quietly, and maybe I¡¯ll give you an autograph, or we can take a picture,¡± she said, talking to me like a child.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want an autograph; I want to test myself.¡±

    ¡°Now you aren¡¯t getting anything but a cot and three meals. You¡¯re going to jail, missy,¡± she said with the same condescending tone as before.

    Rather than rise to her taunt, I run at her and slam my hands into the car. The vehicle flips, and she uses it to land behind me. She picks up a softball-sized piece of the bank, bouncing it off the ground with her power. What is she? Her bo staff whips forward, smacking into the rubble like a baseball bat. I said I was fast, but this thing is a missile and explodes against my face. I wave the concrete dust away and see her boot just as it hits me. It doesn¡¯t do anything and she hops away from me before I can counterattack. I¡¯m so much bigger, stronger, and tougher than her, but she¡¯s nimble. She can dodge, but not forever. Tramp rushes at me, jumps seven feet up in the air, and punches me in the face. It doesn¡¯t hurt or do any damage to me, and it only fuels my excitement. She¡¯s shaking her hand in pain as my left leg whips out and sends her flying toward the wall. There was no crunch, so she activated her ability. She twists in the air so that her feet land against the wall, and she springboards back at me. I aim a right hook at the incoming human projectile, and she once again goes bouncing away after my hit.

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    ¡°IS THAT ALL YOU GOT, TRAMP?¡± I yelled out.

    ¡°Not even close. You¡¯re going down, you flaming freakshow,¡± Tramp replied.

    Tramp runs behind one of the turned-over vehicles for cover and comes out the other side, twirling her bo staff. She uses it to launch herself into the air. I prepare for her attack, but she goes past me. Tramp flies into a wall and jumps off of it, bouncing over to another storefront wall. Downtown Shrewster has plenty of shops for her to continue this game of keepaway. I don¡¯t bother moving. There¡¯s no way to catch her while she¡¯s doing this. I notice she¡¯s slowly gathering speed as all around me are gold and silver afterimages. What you got, girl? I don¡¯t see her hit me, but I feel the impact and hear the sound of all the glass on the street shattering. The impact knocks me backward, carving out a huge chunk of the street as I crash through it. I look down at my chest, and there is a tiny crack in my hoodie. My chest is slightly sore from the impact. Finally.

    I push myself out of the crater. ¡°Congratulations, Tramp. You¡¯re the first person ever to damage me. How the hell did you hit me without breaking your hand?¡±

    She¡¯s holding a strap attached to some cracked black material. She used a police riot helmet. I knew I was right about her.

    ¡°Hell yeah! Okay, you¡¯ve proven my hunch correct. I will now take this seriously; you¡¯ve shown you can take it,¡± I shouted happily.

    ¡°Oh, shut the fuck up,¡± she replied.

    Tramp is standing in the street in front of the bank, waiting for me. I grab a car in each hand and do a double discus spinning throw, sending both cars soaring at her. I nearly clap for her as she jumps off the first car and through the empty windows of the second. This chick is awesome. Once Nobody does his tests, I want her power. Unfortunately for her, the fifteen-minute mark just passed. She does another bouncing swing with her bo staff at my face, and this time, we both hear a sizzle from the hit. Her staff doesn¡¯t look damaged, but it will be soon enough. I close in on her before she can escape and land a gut punch. She makes her abdomen bouncy so my fist is knocked away, but the heat from it creates a small hole in her costume. Tramp may be able to use her power to all but nullify the kinetic force of my attacks, but the heat can¡¯t be bounced away.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± she exclaimed.

    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± I replied.

    I don¡¯t give her a chance to do anything, sending out straight jabs at her head. She weaves under them, using her power to dodge like a boxer. I switch it up and throw out a hook kick. She braces with her arm, but it¡¯s a feint, and I shift my kick right into her side. She blasts away like a cannonball, and I run right after her. I¡¯ve been doing this all wrong. Before she can do anything, I grab her by her leg. As soon as I clasp her ankle, it begins to burn, with her costume catching fire around my hand. We aren¡¯t at the thirty-minute mark, but I can feel the heat rising inside me. Now that I¡¯ve caught her, this fight is over. Too short. I move my hand to her throat, and she screams as the heat torches her mouth covering. She starts to cough at the smoke while my hand cooks her.

    I feel something bounce off my back, and then an explosion blasts me to my knees. Tramp falls from my grip, my body protecting her from the blast. If there had been any glass left on the street, they¡¯d be gone now. I get up and look around. I¡¯m not worried about the Cape at my feet. She isn¡¯t going anywhere with her burns. Standing on top of a nearby roof is a man wearing a tactical vest covered in pockets. He has long blonde hair tied back and a light blue helmet with white spirals on it that exposes his jaw. His outfit isn¡¯t as tight fitting as Tramps, much more flowy but with belts and straps all over it that contain knives. He even has a utility belt with little compartments and a satchel bag. And Callback joins the party.

    Callback throws a dagger at me that I don¡¯t even bother blocking. Before the blade hits me, Callback appears, holding it. He drops into a crouch and tries to stab my leg before disappearing down the street. I hear him grunt in pain as the heat hits him. His blade couldn¡¯t penetrate my skin, and his explosive did nothing as well. If he doesn¡¯t have something else up his sleeves, then this is over. I slowly advance down the street to my next opponent, the road bubbling due to the heat. Every car I pass explodes as the gasoline combusts. Streetlights, signs, newsstands, and shop faces droop and melt as I walk by. A hydrant erupts in an explosion of steam. The air is hazy and mirage-like. This fight is over.

    Callback throws a multitude of weapons at me, but they all burn up before reaching me. I pick up a chunk of the street and work it in my hands to create lava. He teleports away as I get closer, but I¡¯m ready. As soon as his boots touch the top of the car near Tramp, I torque my arm back and fling my lava missile at him. The projectile slams into him, blasting him off one car and into another.

    I walk over to Callback, his chest still covered in molten rock. His eyes are closed, and he¡¯s passed out due to a mixture of shock and pain. I scrape the stuff off his chest, taking most of his costume and skin with it. Whoops. Well, Nobody wanted them alive, not in good condition. I look around at the destruction my fight caused. Everything around is on fire or charred; the cops fled after the heat got too much to bear. Protect and serve. All the walls melted like putty in the microwave, and the street is warped and twisted beyond recognition. I shift back to human so I can grab the two downed Capes and drag them away. A black truck pulls up to the end of the street where my power didn¡¯t reach. Inside is Isaiah, waving at me. I''m strong enough to drag Callback and carry Tramp without much of a problem. After tossing the two of them in the bed of the truck, Isaiah drives us over to the garage.

    ¡°Holy shit, that was incredible, V.¡±

    ¡°Nice job, Hotpants. You know how to hotwire cars?¡± I asked him.

    ¡°What can I say? I¡¯m a Renaissance man. We should split up when we get to the garage. I¡¯ll grab our last guy while you bring these two to the base and let the boss know about our success. It¡¯ll be more efficient than both of us going after the civilian; the boss seems like he prefers efficiency,¡± Isaiah said.

    It¡¯s a good plan; all of his are. I¡¯ve seen him kill with no remorse, crack jokes flirtatiously, and improvise meticulously. It¡¯s a good thing he¡¯s so loyal to Nobody because he¡¯s too dangerous to be left to his own devices.

    ¡°Another good idea, and you¡¯re right about the man in charge. Are you going to be alright to get the old man?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yep, I¡¯ll see you back at the base,¡± he said as we stuffed the two toasty Capes into my trunk. I use a couple of towels to pat them both down, snuffing any embers that might be left.

    We go our separate ways, and I head back to Crimton. On the way, I go over the fight in my head. Think, Vivienne, was there anything that Mr. Jonesby would¡¯ve critiqued? Yeah. He¡¯d say that I should¡¯ve tried grappling her immediately, especially since I had information on my opponent beforehand. And that I got lost in the thrill of the chase again. But then he¡¯d tell me I did good, and I¡¯d be happy. I¡¯m thankful for Hotpants¡¯ suggestion to split up as tears form and roll down my face.

    Parking my car next to the base, I wipe my face on my sleeves and look in my mirror. Great I look like I''ve been bawling my eyes out. Nothing shifting won¡¯t solve. I pop the trunk and transform. Neither Callback nor Tramp are moving, but both are still breathing. They won¡¯t survive the night without immediate treatment. Well, they weren¡¯t going to survive the night either way. Nobody is pretty insistent that we can¡¯t allow anyone to know about his power. Once inside, I drag both of them and arrange them in the jungle gym contraption from earlier. I have to snap both of Callback¡¯s wrists and empty all his pouches before I string him up. Unlike Tramp, Punch, and Diminish, Callback can use his powers regardless of how I contain him. That means I need to make him unable to use it properly. Let¡¯s see you try to use a tool with a snapped wrist. While securing the two new occupants, Punch wakes up.

    ¡°What the fuck? Where the fuck am I?¡± He jerks his head around until he spots me. ¡°You. You¡¯re that cunt that sucker punched me. I¡¯m going to fucking kill you.¡±

    ¡°You aren¡¯t gonna do shit. Look around you, Punch. You are in an abandoned warehouse that could be anywhere. You are the fourth Neuvohuman I¡¯ve beaten today, and none of you have even put up much of a fight,¡± I said. It''s not really a lie; three out of four didn¡¯t put up a fight.

    I turn my back on him and text Nobody that I¡¯m on my way to pick him up. My phone dings, and it¡¯s a picture of Isaiah with the older man bound. Let¡¯s go, Hotpants. I message Kai to let him know we¡¯re almost ready for the procedure. He asks for the address, and I tell him to show up in two and a half hours¡ªplenty of time to pick up Nobody. Five names, five powers, five prisoners. I did it.

 Chapter 28 - Reaping Rewards

    They did it. My two minions were able to do it. They proved to be capable enough to be trusted to follow orders without issues. I use my free time to look through the database and learn a little bit about the movers and shakers in Quinstin: four Heroes¡¯ Union Cape squads, a BNA facility with its own cadre of Neuvohumans. There are five major criminal organizations or gangs that have Neuvohumans, and then there are the unaffiliated Capes and Cowls. One of my goals is to usurp one of the five Cowl groups and absorb their territory and members. Quinstin is a hotbed for Neuvohumans and a buffet for me. Vivienne is on her way over to deliver me to my awaiting feast.

    I feel Vivienne pull into my driveway through the connection I have with her power. Once mine, always mine. I picked out a pair of charcoal slacks and a matching dress shirt for tonight¡¯s outing. My mask is inside my bag. There will be no combat or fighting of any kind tonight¡ªjust gifting abilities to Kai and Isaiah and then fleshing out some more plans. Once I have Kai under my thumb, we can begin to experiment and test the limits of my power. Besides my research, I made a new list of a few powers that would be synergistic with some of the current abilities I hold. As I walk out the door, I see Daniel working on something in the living room.

    I look at him, and nothing stirs inside me. I¡¯ve been wondering if I would feel anything for my father, but I don¡¯t. He¡¯s a genetic donor and nothing more. Two strangers tied together by blood but with no relationship between them. If I could feel sad, would I be? Maria doesn¡¯t particularly like her parents, but she loves them regardless. Will I miss him when he passes? Daniel is a zombie with a mission. He¡¯s lived every day since his wife died with the goal of getting me to adulthood. On March tenth, I will turn nineteen, and his white knuckle vigil will be over. He doesn¡¯t say anything or even look up when I leave.

    Vivienne¡¯s spotless white SUV sits in my driveway. I get into the back, and she pulls away from my house silently. She¡¯s waiting for her review. Truth be told, she did great. Both of them did. All the headlines refer to Vivienne¡¯s outing as a bank robbery gone wrong that destroyed the entire street. There is no mention of a partner or any ideas about an ulterior motive. I don¡¯t doubt that someone is suppressing the fact that Tramp and Callback are missing. It doesn¡¯t even matter to me. The fewer people that look into this, the better. I should get into the habit of doing debriefs with her.

    ¡°You did amazing today, Vivienne. I couldn¡¯t have asked for a better performance from you,¡± I said.

    I give her a small smile, and it might be one of the first genuine ones in my entire life. There¡¯s no need to pretend. Vivienne is the only person I even slightly care about. It isn¡¯t romantic love; it¡¯s affection for a friend or relative. I haven¡¯t seen Maria yet to test if I feel anything for her. I told her that I just needed a couple of days to decompress. She took it quite well, happy that I was telling her the truth. There have been no more outbursts or threats from her since that night. My girlfriend is back to being her regular self, and she hasn¡¯t brought up the party once. Focus on the present, Eryk.

    ¡°Thanks, Nobody. Sorry, Eryk. I¡¯m glad you consider that a success, and I¡¯m happy I got to fight Tramp. She was a great opener for Quinstin, and I¡¯m looking forward to our move now,¡± she said.

    ¡°Good, you did well. It¡¯s great to see you taking my words to heart, Vivienne. You are too powerful to struggle against nearly anyone. Together, we¡¯re going to accomplish so much. And tonight begins the start of something bigger than both of us,¡± I said, activating my helmet. ¡°What did you think of Isaiah¡¯s performance?¡±

    Vivienne goes quiet, thinking it over. I want her honest assessment, but not a knee-jerk reaction. ¡°He¡¯s a quick-thinking problem-solver with zero hesitation while carrying out a plan. Normally, I¡¯d say this would be dangerous, but he¡¯s so loyal to you that he wouldn¡¯t do anything to mess up your plans. He¡¯s an asset. At least, that¡¯s what I think,¡± Vivienne said.

    Astute and concise observations. Vivienne¡¯s already different from when I first met her. I¡¯ve been saving Lee Daeshim¡¯s power to give to Vivienne if the experiments prove to be a success. I¡¯m not particularly attached to any of the powers or personality pieces I¡¯ve collected. Isaiah has more than earned a place at my side. He deserves a reward. Any one of Dynax, Tramp, or Callback¡¯s powers would be lethal in his hands. Slowly but surely, I will make a Neuvohuman force devoted to me.

    ¡°Your thoughts mirror mine. He¡¯s shown competence and loyalty. When we arrive, Isaiah will receive his reward. It¡¯s important for our reputation and our goals that we follow a set of rules and standards. We need to show that we reward those who succeed. It sets a precedent for our organization that will remain as we grow,¡± I said.

    ¡°You want our company or whatever to have a good rep. I get it,¡± Vivienne said.

    That¡¯s one way to simplify what I said.

    <hr>

    There¡¯s a black pickup truck parked at the warehouse when we arrive. Vivienne tells me that Isaiah stole it to use as a getaway vehicle. There¡¯s that resourcefulness she told me about. There¡¯s a baby blue Porsche behind it, which Vivienne informs me must belong to Kai. Without needing to be told to, she thought ahead to what I would want. I¡¯ll be able to check off a few tasks tonight. Tonight needs to be a spectacle. Make it clear that bestowing an ability means something and that it¡¯s an important ceremony. Vivienne gets out first, and I follow behind her, projecting power. I channel politicians with my posture, mixed with the swagger of a dictator who knows they can¡¯t be deposed. Kai has seen me injured, weakened, and near death. Kai sees Nobody as a man and human, but Nobody isn¡¯t either of those. Nobody is a being of single-minded focus. Kai will see Nobody in all his detached glory tonight.

    Kai and Isaiah are sitting at a fold-out table covered in bricks of cocaine and talking. Isaiah is wearing clothes, a marked improvement from the last time we were together. He puts a lot of effort into his outfits, and it¡¯s a point of pride for him. Kai¡¯s wearing a lab coat with the sleeves ripped off, no shirt underneath, black latex pants, and heeled boots. His hair is done up in a messy bun. I look over Vivienne and then myself. We dress for functionality, and the other two dress to make a statement. Vivienne has done well with her modifications of the building. Every opening has been covered and then reinforced with metal sheeting. These warehouses are truly humongous, and with all the crates gone, we have so much space inside. Off to the left side are five people trapped inside a tangled, sharp mass of metal. It looks like an expensive art sculpture you¡¯d find at a museum.

    The five individuals inside are all unconscious but for different reasons. The two Capes, Tramp and Callback, have severe burns all over them. Vivienne did a number on them. The Cowl couple is in better shape. Punch has a broken nose, and his wrists are limp and bent incorrectly. Diminish isn¡¯t hurt at all, but she¡¯s drooling over herself. The final captive isn¡¯t involved in the business of Capes and Cowls in any capacity. It¡¯s unfortunate for Mr. Constanos that he lives in the same region as me and is a Tinkerer. Phillip is unharmed and sleeping peacefully. Isaiah must have drugged him to get him here quickly. Where is he getting the stuff? Isaiah stands up immediately when I walk in, but Kai stays seated. Even now, he is not giving me the respect I deserve. I don¡¯t expect a salute or anything. I¡¯m not running an army; I¡¯m running a business.

    ¡°Heya, Nobody. Vivienne says tonight, you¡¯ll make all my dreams come true,¡± Kai said coyly.

    I ignore him and ask Vivienne about the drugs.

    ¡°I figured we could use it for more seed money for you-know-what,¡± she responded.

    She¡¯s starting to predict what I¡¯ll want and just do it without being told. This is why Vivienne matters. ¡°Good thinking, V. That will certainly speed things up,¡± I said.

    Isaiah and Kai come over to where Vivienne and I are standing in front of the prisoners. I take my right glove off and touch Phillip Costanos¡¯ cheek. My power activates, and Kai looks confused. Isaiah and V both understand what I¡¯m doing, but I know it looks strange to the doctor. The details of the Tinkerer¡¯s ability fill my head, along with what else I¡¯ve stolen from him. The drones can be made to follow vocal commands, remote controls, or some basic routines. They cannot have multiple professions; a surgical drone cannot also be a defense drone. The personality piece is an aversion to seafood. So I can even take something like this?

    Moving on from the older man, I take Callback and Tramp¡¯s powers next. I touch both of them and absorb their powers at the same time. Thanks to the database¡¯s extensive files on the two, I know both of their abilities inside and out. The personality pieces, however, are a welcome surprise. Tramp¡¯s gift is pride, while Callback gives me compassion. Compassion, like joy, is a flavor of emotion that I¡¯ve read about but never understood. Neither emotion is relevant to my current situation. It remains to be seen if either will be a hindrance or a benefit. Still, I¡¯m happy to collect more. People are people because of their faults, not in spite of them. My feast continues with Punch and Diminish¡¯s powers becoming mine as well. Kai, Vivienne, and Isaiah quietly stand there while I make my way through all five.

    Diminish and Punch both represent the type of wasteful Neuvohuman I keep running into. The two Capes were pushing their powers to the limit of what was possible with them. In contrast, the two Cowls aren¡¯t using their gifts efficiently. Diminish has no limit or range on the objects she shrinks. Once she¡¯s shrunk an object, it stays that way until she undoes it. She could¡¯ve used that to keep a getaway vehicle on her at all times. The database had incomplete information on the male Cowl. It¡¯s no surprise, considering his lack of motivation or ambition. Punch only fires his kinetic projections in straight blasts and from his palms. He can curve the blasts, and they can come from any extremity. He could fire ten smaller blasts from each of his fingers or elongate kicks with the power. Instead, the two worthless junkies use their abilities to steal and rob in order to buy drugs. I will accomplish so much more with both powers than they could have ever hoped.

    The personality pieces the two Cowls gave me aren¡¯t good. Punch¡¯s aggressive temper and Diminish¡¯s anhedonia now fill me. This is going to be like Davis¡¯ rage all over again. Except instead of random outbursts, it¡¯ll be beneath the surface at all times. That bitch¡¯s fucking disease is now infecting me as well. I¡¯m poisoning anyone I give this to. Joy, curiosity, and affection are all basically nullified by her¡ªall the work I¡¯ve done to fix my own condition, destroyed by a sad little druggie. My hand¡¯s already moving before I realize it. A right hook crunches her cheek, and she wakes up screaming. Even after Kai¡¯s surgery, I¡¯m still a large man, and she is a frail, tiny thing. Kai, V, and Isaiah are shocked by the sudden attack on the captive woman. The screaming wakes up everyone else, and they all start struggling against the metal holding them¡ªall except Phillip, who seems lost and frightened. Gradually, the prisoners realize their powers aren¡¯t working, and that causes even more yelling.

    ¡°Isaiah, give me one of your guns,¡± I said, forcing myself to speak calmly. I refuse to be controlled by the impulses of two unstable people. That outburst has already soured the image I¡¯m calibrating. I need to push past this. He hands me one of his pistols without hesitating and then backs up.

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    Callback and Tramp¡¯s pained groaning, Diminish¡¯s whimpering, Phillip¡¯s sobbing, and Punch¡¯s threats form a cacophony of noise that grates my brain. My temper is like a pot threatening to boil over. The safety is already off, and I don¡¯t bother with a speech or a threat. I place the gun against Punch¡¯s chest, around where his heart is, and pull the trigger. My arm is braced for the recoil so my hand doesn¡¯t buckle from the kick. Diminish¡¯s life ends the same as her partner''s. Tramp and Callback are so fucked up by Vivienne that they don¡¯t even react to the gunshots. The civilian toymaker is muttering a prayer under his breath as tears roll down his wrinkled face. He doesn¡¯t beg, plead, or argue. The first Neuvohuman I¡¯ve met who wasn¡¯t involved in the grand game of Capes and Cowls is handling his end far better than anyone else I¡¯ve killed.

    ¡°Please, all I ask is that you don¡¯t hurt my family,¡± Phillip said, looking directly at my helmet.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dream of it,¡± I said quietly.

    Phillip twitches at the sound of the voices from my helmet, and I shoot him in the head when his eyes are closed. This is the only mercy I can offer him¡ªa quick death and letting him pass without fear for his family. A bullet between the eyes is as much compassion as I can give. I hand the gun back to Isaiah and address my audience. My hand drips with the blood of the five people I just assassinated. This is only the beginning. So many more people will die before my aspirations are realized.

    ¡°Now that that¡¯s taken care of, we can move on to celebrations. Isaiah, you exceeded expectations and have proven to be both committed and resourceful. You have more than earned your place here. Take my hand, Isaiah. It¡¯s time for your reward,¡± I said.

    I used the trip over to decide on what ability to give Isaiah. This will be the second ever power I give to someone. I don¡¯t count Vivienne; it was only returning what was originally hers. The perfect power to give him is one that will mesh well with any future powers. One that¡¯s tied to a personality piece I won¡¯t mind losing. He clasps my hand, and I start the transfer. Vivienne knows what I¡¯m doing, but nobody else does. When the timer ends, Isaiah¡¯s eyes roll back into his head, and he drops to his knees. Unlike Aubrey, he doesn¡¯t pass out, and he puts his hand out to stop from falling over. Kai looks at him, then at me, and fear flashes across his face. He just watched me kill five people and then bring a man the size of Isaiah to his knees with a touch. Good, understand that I am someone to be feared and respected.

    I approach Kai, and he steps back slightly. Fear is an acceptable response to impending doom or pain. However, I have no use for those who recoil from the unknown. I ignore the doctor¡¯s internal plight and hold out my hand for him to hold. Isaiah sways to my right, then his eyes shoot open, and he looks at me with a mixture of wonder and reverence. Dynax¡¯s power is in your hands, along with the late man¡¯s fierce loyalty. You have gone from a pawn to a knight, Isaiah.

    ¡°Nobody, thank you for this gift. Whatever you want, I promise to do everything I can to see it to fruition,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Oh, I know you will. Now, stand up and get used to the new feelings you''re experiencing. You should understand everything about what just happened, but if you need something clarified, let me know. Now you, Doctor, I made a deal with. Grasp my hand, and my promise will be fulfilled. Don¡¯t falter, Kai; this is the finish line,¡± I said. My helmet¡¯s voice changer makes the words echo out in the empty warehouse.

    Kai swallows the lump forming in his throat but steps forward and grabs my outstretched limb. You and I will learn everything there is to know about my ability and the effects it has on others. Thinking of Phillip¡¯s Tinkerer power, I channel it into Kai. He doesn¡¯t react to it as it¡¯s happening. When I take from a Neuvohuman, they are subconsciously aware they are losing a part of them. There doesn¡¯t seem to be anything from the passing of a new power onto someone. After the last second ticks away, Kai screams in pain. He collapses to the floor, unconscious. Isaiah didn¡¯t pass out, but Kai did. Just like Aubrey, it appears that Tinkerer powers require extensive changes to the brain of the receiver. We¡¯ll have to see whether there are physical changes to the brains of Tinkerers.

    ¡°Um, what¡¯s happening to him?¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine,¡± I answered.

    ¡°That¡¯s why you had us abduct these five. And the reason for the secrecy, the cloak and dagger of it all, is because you¡¯re able to steal and redistribute abilities to other people. I understand what letting me in on the secret means. I appreciate the trust, and I won¡¯t betray it, Nobody,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Damn right, you won¡¯t. Hotpants, I like you. But if you cross us, I¡¯ll bury you.¡±

    ¡°I gave Kai the toymaker¡¯s Tinkerer ability. From the limited sample size of people to whom I¡¯ve given powers, both who received Tinkerer powers passed out. I believe it¡¯s due to the massive influx of knowledge they receive upon becoming a Tinkerer. We have a couple of hours before he wakes up. So it¡¯s best if we use this time to go over a few things. Let¡¯s sit down over there,¡± I said, motioning toward the table.

    The three of us take a seat, with Vivienne and Isaiah sitting across from me. With a table full of cocaine between us, this looks like a cartel meeting. Isaiah pulls a bank bag from under the table and lays it on top. He unzips it, and inside are stacks of banded bills. I do a quick count of the money. So Vivienne collected the remaining coke from the gang fight, and Isaiah nabbed the money from her fake robbery. Brilliant. There are twenty kilos and around one hundred thousand in cash. Adding in the ten bricks I have with the heist money brings the total to one point six million dollars. That¡¯s an incredible amount of money to be bringing to Quinstin.

    ¡°First, I¡¯d like to tell you about our purpose in doing all of this, Isaiah. I aim to create an organization that is too big for the Heroes¡¯ Union or the BNA to topple. I want to leave a mark on history, unlike anyone who¡¯s come before me. Neuvohumans spend too much time playing heroes and villains with their colorful costumes and dramatic showdowns. I¡¯m not talking about building a gang or a crew; I¡¯m talking about creating a company. And through this company, I want to own Quinstin. I want to have my tendrils in everything that goes on in that city and get a cut of the Cowls and the Capes business,¡± I said.

    ¡°I said it before, and I meant it. You are fucking crazy, Nobody, but I like crazy,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°Sounds interesting,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Oh, it will be. We need to find a wholesale buyer or a distributor for the cocaine. It amounts to around one and a half million dollars, and we¡¯ll need it for Quinstin. The current plan is to purchase property in the city to use as both money laundering and a base of operations. From there, we''ll branch out into legitimate businesses and create a trail of clean money from which to pay out everyone who works with or for us,¡± I said.

    ¡°Taking over Quinstin won¡¯t be easy. They have a sizable population of Capes and Cowls, dangerous ones too,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll crush every single one of them beneath my boot. Titania, Apollo, and whoever the fuck else gets in our way,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°If Quinstin is what you want, you¡¯ll have it, Nobody. Are we waiting until Kai and Rorschach have joined before we start?¡± Isaiah asked.

    ¡°We have several things to accomplish before we can comfortably move. We need Rorschach firmly on our side, which is why you two are going to help her get her revenge. Santiago needs to die, but not before he tells Rorschach he killed Murmur. That¡¯s why I¡¯ll be sending both of you with her. I don¡¯t care what happens to his gang, but he absolutely cannot be allowed to live,¡± I said.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t going with us?¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°No. He can¡¯t. Because he¡¯s Nobody and Nobody doesn¡¯t exist,¡± Isaiah answered.

    ¡°You¡¯re so smart, Hotpants. You instantly deduced our leader¡¯s intentions. Why, I don¡¯t know if I would¡¯ve figured that out without you to explain it to this silly little lady. Do you think that maybe, just maybe, I wasn¡¯t talking about Nobody¡¯s desire for secrecy? That maybe I meant I¡¯m surprised he doesn¡¯t want to kill Santiago himself,¡± Vivienne said.

    Isaiah flusters at her accusation. She isn¡¯t stupid. Mistaking her for a brute is a grave miscalculation for anyone to make. You¡¯ve been useful, Isaiah, but I¡¯d pick her over anyone in the world. He quickly regains control of himself and puts both hands up placatingly.

    ¡°I meant no offense, Vivienne. Forgive my rudeness; I didn¡¯t mean to insinuate anything. I was hasty in my eagerness to answer, and that¡¯s on me. Sorry,¡± Isaiah apologized.

    Vivienne doesn¡¯t even say a word to acknowledge his apology. She waves as if to say all is forgiven. Vivienne started an argument and ended it just to establish dominance. She effortlessly enforced her place as second in command. She has a knack for subtle manipulation. If Isaiah is a knight, then Vivienne can be a queen.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been forced to be active and visible in order to lay the groundwork for my goals. But I am not built for fieldwork. Once Kai wakes up, he¡¯ll realize that joining us is the best option for him. Rorschach will soon follow. The four of you will be my eyes, ears, hands, and feet. You will know I exist, but no one else can. Kai and I are going to be experimenting and learning everything there is to know about my ability. There¡¯s nothing wrong with ignorance by itself, but when it is willful and self-inflicted, it becomes a disease.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, stupidity is bad. So don¡¯t leave a girl in suspense, Hotpants. What¡¯d he give you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d be classified as rank three Bruiser. My strength, speed, and regeneration are multiplied. Working out is going to be four times as effective, and my body can run on a quarter of what it normally requires. Every part of my body is enhanced, even the part that didn¡¯t need it,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Ew. That means you can take a punch, and that means we can spar. Get your ass up, and fight me. Tramp was the first person in a long ass time that could give me any kind of fight, and even she couldn¡¯t hurt me. Show me what you can do now.¡±

    Vivienne walks over to an open area of the warehouse and kicks her shoes off. She unzips her hoodie and throws it on the floor. Adopting a defensive stance, she beckons at Isaiah. Vivienne will not let him weasel out of a fight, and Isaiah isn¡¯t the type to anyway. He takes his beanie off, unbuttons his shirt, and unlaces his boots before he removes them. He towers over her, but all three of us are aware that she is by far the most dangerous. Isaiah cautiously circles her, looking for an opening.

    Isaiah explodes at her with a burst of speed like an Olympic runner. A punch so telegraphed I see it coming, which means Vivienne has no trouble avoiding it. She ducks under the attack, rotates her body a hundred and eighty degrees, and kicks straight up into his arm. He grunts in pain, but that¡¯s the only noise. She can¡¯t break the limb. His body is tough and resistant to blunt force damage. Bullets and knives were ineffective against Dynax. I wonder if Isaiah could somehow train his skin to be tougher. Something similar to tempering. We need to test the limits of his body¡¯s natural healing.

    The two of them continue their fight. Isaiah brings an axe kick down on her. Vivienne dodges left and starts counterattacking. She throws out alternating kicks aimed at Isaiah¡¯s ribs: left, right, left, right, left, then left again for the mix-up. Vivienne isn¡¯t holding back at all; she¡¯s hitting him with her full power. They just aren¡¯t doing anything against Isaiah¡¯s newly empowered body.

    Just as I think that she needs to transform, she does. Her skin glows bright white, and her hair sparks into flame. The glowing woman starts growing as black rock encases her body completely. Each piece of her is bigger, and she stands three feet taller than Isaiah. The two of them have exchanged dozens of attacks but not a single word since the fight truly began. Now, round two will start. Vivienne''s grin glows white orange. The two continue their dance, except now V is the one leading. Isaiah gets in close and smashes an uppercut into V¡¯s chin. His hit barely moves her head and she remains grounded. Isaiah crosses his arms to defend Vivienne¡¯s chop. The concrete cracks beneath Isaiah, but his guard holds, and he doesn¡¯t fall. She feints another overhead smash and kicks Isaiah in the chest. He turns the tumble into a flip, transitioning into a leg sweep that knocks Vivienne off her feet. She slams into the floor, causing further damage to it.

    Vivienne springs up and jabs Isaiah in the face. They trade hits, neither bothering to block. All pretense of defense is thrown aside. She respects strength above all else. She craves an equal but is probably afraid of breaking him. Isaiah is calculating and efficient when it comes to violence. He¡¯s more like me than he is Vivienne. Neither is going all out. Good, I¡¯d hate to have to find replacements if one died. The punches continue to rain down, the thump of skin against rock, and vice versa. As the fight lingers in a stalemate, Vivienne¡¯s blows begin to burn Isaiah. Isaiah jumps backward, away from Vivienne.

    ¡°I give up. These pants are expensive, and they are not flame-retardant. I don¡¯t mind sparring, but not at the expense of my outfit. We¡¯ll call this one your win, but I¡¯ll be used to my body next time,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Fine, Hotpants, but I¡¯m gonna hold you to it,¡± Vivienne responded.

    He trades promises for a future fight for a ceasefire now. How politically savvy of him. Vivienne ends her transformation as the two grab their discarded clothes. I hear mumbling from Kai as he stirs. It actually was faster than it was with Aubrey. While the two of them put their clothes on, Kai pushes himself off the floor onto his knees.

    ¡°You did it. You gave me my wish. Are you a god or some kind of demon? It¡¯s in my brain, the knowledge, and so many ideas. There are endless possibilities. I need to build. I need to create. It¡¯s amazing. You weren¡¯t lying; you made me a Tinkerer,¡± Kai rambled.

    ¡°I held up my end of the bargain and made you a Tinkerer. But it almost feels like an unfair trade, don¡¯t you agree, Kai?¡±

    I crouch down to Kai so my helmet is directly in his face. He jolts a little when I place my hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°Some would say that what I¡¯ve given you is worth far more than a few pieces of Tinkertech and employment. Some might even give anything for the slightest chance of gaining powers. I¡¯d bet some people would even kill for it. I¡¯m talking about actually trading a human life for the infinitesimal possibility of becoming a Neuvohuman. But that¡¯s just what some people might say or do. What do you think it¡¯s worth, Kai?¡±

    ¡°Uhh. Umm,¡± Kai mumbled.

    I¡¯ve driven a man with such a loud personality to silence. You can¡¯t back down now, Kai. Where¡¯d the flirty, confident doctor go? I killed a father, a husband, and a beloved toymaker for the power you wield. Are you going to invalidate that?

    ¡°You don¡¯t seem to have any idea of the cost of what you¡¯ve been given. Doctor, I gave you your one wish; I¡¯d say the least you can do is help me. I¡¯m not the type of person to keep score or lord favors over someone, so I¡¯ll offer you the chance to change our agreement. Join me as more than just a doctor or surgeon. Join me in changing the status quo. Join me in pursuit of greatness. Decades from now, I will be spoken of in the same category as great conquerors and kings. Immortal in name and accomplishment. I will leave a mark, a scar upon this world that cannot be forgotten. You and the others that join will rise with me; my ascension mirrored within your own. I am Nobody, but I will not remain one.¡±

 Chapter 29 - Hospital Visit

    It''s a bit dramatic, but sometimes it¡¯s called for. A touch of theatrics can be captivating. Based on Kai¡¯s face, my speech accomplished exactly what I wanted it to. He looks at me with a healthy mix of fear, awe, and respect. I set out to overwrite the image he had of me, and it was successful. I stand up while I wait for Kai to respond; I¡¯ve said my piece. His manic smile returns as he licks his dry lips. Crouched down, he looks like a scheming gremlin. I only seem to acquire eccentric pieces.

    ¡°You¡¯ve made your point, and on a completely unrelated note, I¡¯d be happy to work for you. Well, it would be career suicide to pass on this opportunity. What kind of work will we be doing?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to help me with a few experiments. Before that, you¡¯ll need to build a few construction drones and transform this empty warehouse into a command center and lab. We¡¯ll have test subjects soon, and we need cages for them. Beyond that, you¡¯re free to make whatever you want. Cheer up, Kai, you¡¯re a Tinkerer,¡± I said.

    ¡°Yaaaaay,¡± Kai said unenthusiastically.

    ¡°This evening has been a success. Tonight, we¡¯ve gotten one step closer to our goals,¡± I said.

    ¡°Welcome to the team doc. I guess I¡¯ll never get to rip your arm off and beat you with it. Well, unless you do something incredibly stupid like betray us,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°Isaiah, you have access to certain resources. I need a handgun with a silencer. Can you get me that?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Do you have any preferences?¡±

    ¡°No, just something untraceable and small enough to keep hidden,¡± I responded.

    ¡°I can probably get it to you in about a day or two,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. Give it to Vivienne, and she¡¯ll get it to me,¡± I said.

    ¡°Will do. While we¡¯re discussing acquiring items, do you need specific materials for your drones? If you get me a list of what you need, I¡¯ll see what I can do,¡± Isaiah said.

    Kai closes his eyes, going over all the information now nestled in his head. Is it similar to the personality pieces? Having something implanted into your brain might be disconcerting to other people. He opens his eyes, looking around the room and mumbling to himself.

    ¡°No, I should be fine. Once I get the construction drones built, I can have them search through the surrounding warehouses for scraps and other materials. If I need anything specific, I¡¯ll let you know. Also, is this like a paid gig or?¡± Kai asked, letting the question stretch out.

    ¡°Yes and no. Currently, no one has been paid for any of their work, and won¡¯t be until I can finalize a means of cleaning the money. Right now, the only liquid cash we have is stolen, and the rest is tied up in kilos of cocaine until we find a buyer. If the organization is going to succeed and be different from other Neuvohuman-led gangs, then it needs to be a legitimate business: healthcare, paychecks, and paper trails. Everything needed to prove to any legislative power that you all work for a functionally real company,¡± I answered.

    ¡°I, for one, would welcome being able to file taxes or generate credit. I¡¯m not sure if you two have ever tried to put a bid on a property with cash covered in bodily fluids, but it tends not to go through,¡± Kai said to V and Isaiah.

    ¡°Speak for yourself. I own a house, and until a week ago, I was a seven-foot-tall reptile man. Maybe it has something to do with you looking like Ru Paul¡¯s Rocky Horror Picture Show,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Holy shit, Hotpants,¡± Vivienne said, bursting out laughing and clutching her sides.

    Maria loves that movie. I¡¯ve never understood the obsession with reality TV; it lacks the structure of scripted series. If I want to watch something for hours, I¡¯d prefer it to have a cohesive, clear story.

    ¡°It¡¯s time for me to take my leave. Doctor, you have your orders. And you two should get everything you need for this weekend. Help Rorschach get her revenge, and then we can bring her into the fold. While you¡¯re handling Santiago, find out if his gang has a buyer who¡¯d want thirty kilos of cocaine,¡± I said.

    <hr>

    I roll out of bed, picking my shirt up off the floor. I carefully avoid the clothes strewn about on the floor as I search for my pants. Maria is still sleeping on my bed, her naked form covered by the sheets. It¡¯s been three days since the warehouse, and I¡¯ve spent every day and night with her. Not even so much as a glimpse of that side of her. She is back to being the picturesque partner from before. She¡¯s still clearly obsessed with me, but it¡¯s back to being sad instead of dangerous.

    I find my pants crumpled up next to my crewneck sweater and quietly put them on. My bag containing my mask gets slung over my shoulder, and I sneak into my bathroom to wash my face. Already, I¡¯m starting to look healthier. The bulking is working, but I¡¯ll have Kai do a checkup to make sure. Everything is going right in my life, and I feel NOTHING. Diminish has even made my budding friendship with Vivienne hollow. I bite back the urge to punch the mirror in front of me. It would wake Maria up, and I¡¯d have to have an annoying conversation with her and Daniel.

    As soon as we have access to a surplus of transient participants, I should store these powers and emotions inside of them. I¡¯ll make vegetative Neuvohuman flash drives to store useful powers and problematic personality pieces. I¡¯m sure he has some way to keep them alive but comatose. Cryogenics has made a lot of progress in the last fifty years. I¡¯ll ask him about that when I visit later.

    My phone rings, and I hear Maria groan. There goes my escape. Didn''t I set it on vibrate before we went to bed? I don''t bother to be quiet as I walk out of the bathroom. Maria is tossing and turning, trying to bury her head under one of my pillows.

    ¡°Shut it off,¡± Maria complained.

    ¡°Sorry, babe, I''ll grab it.¡±

    It''s Jean-Luc calling me. What warrants a call instead of a text?

    ¡°Hey dude, what''s up?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Aubrey''s in the hospital. Apparently, she''s been there for a week and only recently woke up. Today''s the first day she''s allowed visitors. I''m gonna head there now. I was thinking we could go see her together if you were free,¡± he said.

    I''m surprised it took this long. Why hasn''t Aubrey texted me about the docks? Not even a text about that night is suspicious. It''s better to hear the story straight from the source. There could be a hundred different reasons for her silence.

    ¡°Yeah, I''m down. Let me get dressed, and I''ll meet you there. Is she at St. Augustine?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yep. I''m going to grab Aubrey a coffee on the way. Hospital coffee sucks, so I''m sure she''ll appreciate one. Do you want one?¡±

    ¡°Thanks, but I''m all set. I gotta get ready, so I''ll see you in a bit,¡± I said.

    ¡°I hope she''s alright, Eryk. I¡¯ve had enough funerals to last a lifetime,¡± Jean-Luc said.

    ¡°Me too, buddy, me too.¡±

    When I hang up, Maria is sitting up in my bed. She''s holding her knees against her chest and staring at me. ¡°Who was that?¡±

    ¡°Jean-Luc. Apparently, Aubrey was in some sort of accident, and that''s why neither of us have heard from her. We''re going to meet up at St. Augustine and check on her,¡± I said.

    ¡°Um. Do you want me to go with you? I can understand if you don¡¯t. After Marcus'' funeral, I don''t want to cause any more problems,¡± Maria said.

    She''s being too mature about this. Something has changed since our heart-to-heart. It¡¯s like every insecurity she¡¯s had about our relationship is gone.

    ¡°Probably better if I go alone,¡± I said apologetically.

    ¡°Alright, I understand. Tensions were high because of the funeral, but I would never want Aubrey to get hurt. I really hope your friend is okay,¡± Maria said.

    The distinct use of the word ¡°your¡± indicates Maria doesn¡¯t think of Aubrey as her friend. Is that a new development or something that¡¯s always been there?

    I walk over to Maria and kiss her before sitting down to put my socks on. While I¡¯m sitting, Maria hugs me from behind and tussles my hair. ¡°I love you,¡± she whispered.

    ¡°I love you too. I¡¯ll call you whenever we finish at the hospital. There¡¯s some lasagna I made in the fridge if you get hungry. There¡¯s plenty, so have as much as you want. We should stream the new Axesaw Hunter reboot when I get back,¡± I said, shutting the door behind me.

    Daniel¡¯s door is closed. He¡¯s probably sleeping off a late work night or hungover. I grab my keys and wallet off the table and slip some running shoes on. The amount of times that I leave the house for Eryk Blakely activities has drastically shrunk. Nobody is slowly becoming my default persona. The warm air blankets me as I exit my house. The sunlight causes me to squint. I hop in my truck and pull out the pair of aviators Marcus got me for my sixteenth birthday. ¡°All truck guys wear aviators.¡± His fearful face from the party overlaps my memory of the gift. If I ever acquire remorse, will I regret killing him? Doubtful since acquiring affection didn¡¯t make me feel anything for Maria.

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    The trip to St. Augustine doesn¡¯t take long. I text Jean-Luc to find out if he¡¯s here yet.

    He¡¯s parked toward the back of the hospital, and I spot his blue Subaru. He doesn¡¯t notice me pull up next to him and slam on the horn. The honk startles him, and he drops his phone at his feet while yelling. It''s just a small prank to bring levity to our anxious outing. When he finally grabs his phone and sees me, he flips me off. We both get out of our cars and begin walking to the entrance.

    ¡°You¡¯re a fucking dick, dude. You scared the shit out of me,¡± Jean-Luc said.

    ¡°Sorry, I couldn''t resist when I saw you focused on your phone. What were you looking at so intensely?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I was watching cute pet videos to calm down. I know we don¡¯t even know why she¡¯s in the hospital, but I can¡¯t stop my brain from jumping to the worst conclusions. What if we get in there, and she tells us she has a week to live, or she needs a heart transplant, or it¡¯s brain cancer? What if she fell and hit her head, and she forgot we were even friends?¡± He said frantically.

    ¡°Jean-Luc. Jean-Luc. JEAN-LUC!¡± I yelled, shaking him. ¡°Calm. Down. You¡¯re getting worked up about hypotheticals and what-ifs when we can just go inside and find out.¡±

    His panicking is grating at my ears. He¡¯s such a crybaby. Why do overly emotional idiots surround me? University cannot come soon enough. More than likely, the freshmen at Quinstin will be just as bad, but there¡¯s a chance I can find more stable friends there. This trip needs to end quickly so I can get started on my idea of storing these feelings elsewhere. This aggression is already worse than Davis¡¯ rage. My patience is like a wound-up nerve, and any stimulus sets me on edge.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, sorry. It¡¯s just that the party unearthed a lot of trauma from my childhood. Memories from when we fled Paris keep showing up when I sleep, but now they¡¯re mixed with our classmates dying,¡± Jean-Luc replied.

    ¡°I had no idea you were struggling so much, man. I¡¯ve been so caught up in my issues that I ignored my friend¡¯s suffering. Jean-Luc, if you need anything, anytime you need it, I¡¯m there. Now quit stalling, let¡¯s go see our friend,¡± I said.

    I lead the way as we walk up the ramp to the hospital entrance. St. Augustine is a two-story, t-shaped brick building that was once bright white. Now, the outside is a faded gray color similar to cigarette smoke. It doubles as the town shelter during blizzards or hurricanes. A nurse is smoking outside the double doors at the entrance, taking long drags from her vape. As we pass her, I catch a whiff of a mix of fruit and nicotine. It¡¯s such an unpleasant hobby. I know that it feels good, but addiction is a weakness. Smoking never interested me, but even more so now that I have an addictive personality. Thank you, Froggy.

    Immediately after we enter the hospital, I¡¯m assaulted by the sterile, stale air of the place. It¡¯s like a combination of dust and cleaning supplies. The waiting area is devoid of people, and the receptionist is on his phone. He doesn¡¯t look up at us until we¡¯re right in front of the glass.

    ¡°How can I help you?¡±

    ¡°Hi, we¡¯re here to see Aubrey Iskan. We heard she can have visitors now,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re friends with Miranda¡¯s kid. She¡¯s in room one oh three, and that¡¯s down the hall on your left. Before you go, I need both of you to sign in,¡± he said, motioning to a clipboard.

    We both sign and walk down the hall, passing a few nurses and a janitor. The hallway has the same recessed white lights you find in warehouses that make everything look terrible. The saturated puke green walls have a brown walking bar attached to them for people who need help standing. The last time I was here was after the accident that killed my mother. It looks the same as it does in my memories.

    In front of Aubrey¡¯s room are three people doing their best to argue quietly. On one side is Aubrey¡¯s doctor, on the other is an unknown male Cape, and the third person is someone I¡¯m surprised to see. Special Agent Waters of the BNA is wearing the same ugly pinstripe suit. That¡¯s the Traveler who brought me home. Somehow, SA Waters isn¡¯t the most ridiculous dressed one. The unknown cape is wearing a full-body gimp suit with white stars interspersed over the arms. Even the Cape¡¯s mouth is covered by a metallic box-like protrusion. The reason I know they¡¯re a Neuvohuman isn¡¯t just the outfit. Their eyes are blazing green. As we get closer, I can hear the mystery person¡¯s voice, and it¡¯s modulated. So they use a voice changer as well.

    ¡°Gentleman, I¡¯m not going to let you strongarm me into interrogating my patient. I told you I would contact you when I felt she could handle answering questions from both of you. That is not today. Today is only for friends and family. Last time I checked, you two are neither,¡± said the doctor.

    ¡°We have waited nearly a week to talk to her. Under Section Six of the Neuvohuman Accords, a BNA agent is allowed to question witnesses involved in any Neuvohuman attack as soon as they are able-bodied. You can bar him from talking to her; you can¡¯t bar me,¡± SA Waters said.

    ¡°I am here not to interrogate the young woman but to help her. Ms. Iskan is a newly awakened Neuvohuman, and she needs to know she is not alone and that there are programs for people like her,¡± the green-eyed Cape said.

    ¡°Ms. Iskan has two visitors that are on their way. They take precedence over both of you. Speaking of, I think that¡¯s them right there,¡± The doctor said, pointing at us.

    ¡°Uhhh. Hi, mister¡­,¡± Jean-Luc said, unsure how to address the Cape.

    ¡°Phoenix, you can call me Phoenix¡ªno need for the mister. Let¡¯s get out of their hair, Waters,¡± Phoenix said as he wrapped his arm around Waters¡¯ neck.

    As the two men pass us, SA Waters smiles at me. ¡°Didn¡¯t think I¡¯d be seeing you again so soon.¡±

    So soon? What does that mean? Are they on to me? No, they can''t be. The helmet Aubrey made has only one feature, and it does it exceptionally. I have to trust that she did it correctly.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re the guy who gave me the lift home. Thanks again,¡± I said.

    He laughs at my description of him, and the two men continue, leaving us alone with the doctor. I quickly read the name on his coat and smile. ¡°Hello, Dr. Malcolm. Is Aubrey inside?¡±

    ¡°Ah, you two must be Jean-Luc and Eryk. I¡¯ve heard a lot about you two from her. She¡¯ll be thrilled to see you. However, before you enter, there¡¯s something you both need to know about. Aubrey has suffered a traumatic head injury and seems to have lost all memories of the last six weeks,¡± Dr. Malcolm said.

    ¡°Oh my gosh,¡± Jean-Luc gasped.

    Aubrey forgot everything? Meaning she doesn¡¯t know about me or the mask? If it weren¡¯t for Diminish¡¯s gift, this moment would be a happy one. Instead, it¡¯s just a fortuitous event for me. If Aubrey isn¡¯t faking it, that leaves Vivienne as the only person who knows that Eryk Blakely is Nobody. Incredible.

    ¡°What do you mean she¡¯s lost her memory?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Aubrey is suffering from a case of retrograde amnesia brought on by an accident she was in. That¡¯s on top of some other minor injuries. Boys, your friend is in a very fragile state right now, and I¡¯d like to ask you both to refrain from doing or saying anything that will upset her,¡± Dr. Malcolm said.

    ¡°What happened to her? What do you mean by upsetting her?¡± Jean-Luc asked.

    ¡°He means that we can¡¯t tell her about Marcus. We¡¯re going to have to lie to her,¡± I answered.

    ¡°You¡¯re joking. I¡¯m not going in there and lying to our friend. I won¡¯t lie,¡± Jean-Luc said.

    I feel a spike of aggression in my brain. Stop fucking grandstanding. Now isn¡¯t the time for this shit, Jean-Luc. Calm down. Relax. I keep an iron grip on my facial expression, not letting a hint of my irritation show.

    ¡°Don¡¯t think of it as lying. We¡¯re doing this for her wellbeing and recovery. She can¡¯t handle losing Marcus. She didn¡¯t take it well the first time, and that was without the head injury.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like this,¡± Jean-Luc replied.

    ¡°Dude, respectfully, this isn¡¯t about you. This is about our friend who is hurt and needs us. If that means going in there and pretending Marcus is still alive, then that¡¯s what I¡¯m going to do. If you can¡¯t handle that, then wait out here,¡± I said before opening the door.

    Aubrey¡¯s room is plain, with a single window facing the parking lot. She has a hospital gown on and is eating some jello. She looks the same as when I dropped her off. The part of her neck and chest that is exposed is covered in thin, jagged lines. Daeshim¡¯s attack left its mark. Aubrey¡¯s eyes light up as we walk inside.

    ¡°Eryk!¡± She gasped. ¡°And Jean-Luc! Guys, they¡¯ve kept me cooped up in here, unable to see anybody except my mom. I¡¯ve been asking about the party, and she won¡¯t tell me anything that happened. Wait, why isn¡¯t Marcus with you? Is he on his way?¡± Aubrey asked.

    Jean-Luc opens and closes his mouth. He¡¯s struggling to figure out how to balance the doctor¡¯s warning and his desire for honesty. Honest to a fault, Jean-Luc. Now, what will he do? He takes a moment to compose himself and grins.

    ¡°You know how flighty Marcus is. He must be sleeping in because he didn¡¯t answer my texts or calls,¡± Jean-Luc said.

    ¡°Oh, okay. Well, he better visit me later. So, what have you guys been up to? The doctor said that the party happened a month and a half ago. It¡¯s unreal because the last thing I remember was running out of Deckler¡¯s mansion, and then I¡¯m here. They don¡¯t know what happened to me, but I have an idea,¡± Aubrey said.

    Moment of truth.

    ¡°I think I got hurt in a Neuvohuman accident. And I think I¡¯m a Cape,¡± she said.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked.

    ¡°You¡¯re a Cape?¡± Jean-Luc asked.

    ¡°Yes. When I woke up here, there was this hornet-themed helmet in my room. And when I looked at it, I just knew how it was built in a way that¡¯s impossible unless I built it. Not only that, but I have a power now. I¡¯m a freakin¡¯ Tinkerer. I have knowledge that I didn¡¯t have before, and it¡¯s all related to building helmets,¡± Aubrey answered.

    ¡°Ah. You think a Cowl did this to you, don¡¯t you?¡± I said.

    ¡°But, Aubrey, you aren¡¯t licensed or affiliated.  That would make everything you do fall under vigilantism, which would make you a Cowl. Aubrey, when we got here, two people were trying to get in here to talk to you. One was a member of the BNA, and the other was a Cape named Phoenix. Both of them were weirdos,¡± Jean-Luc said.

    ¡°Relax, in this case, my memory loss works as a shield. Plus, they don¡¯t jail first-time vigilantes. All I¡¯m likely to get is a warning. I¡¯ve never even heard of any Cape called Phoenix, so I doubt I¡¯m in deep shit. Did either of them say why they were here?¡± Aubrey said.

    There goes any chance of learning about Phoenix from her. I¡¯ll have to check the database when I get home. Moving it in and out of my room is getting aggravating. The alternative is letting Maria see it, and no amount of words can explain away my having that. I need answers from Aubrey. She might be lying about the amnesia. Dr. Malcolm said we should avoid upsetting her, but I may need to violate that request carefully. I have to determine whether her knowledge of me is gone forever or if a couple of questions will bring it back.

    ¡°They didn¡¯t, but you gotta be more careful. You look like you were struck by lightning. Whatever you got into landed you with permanent scars and a head injury. Aubrey, your recklessness could get you killed. I can¡¯t lose you-¡± I cut my sentence off early. Focus on looking distraught.

    ¡°Sorry, I guess I didn¡¯t really see it from you guys¡¯ perspective. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do if any of you guys got hurt or worse. I guess the idea of something good coming out of that night excited me. And if I¡¯ve been fighting bad guys like Davis, then a couple of hits to the head is a small price to pay. I¡¯m sure Marcus will agree with me,¡± Aubrey said.

    There are no signs of her regaining her memory. She isn¡¯t the type to obfuscate. I¡¯ll have to keep an eye on her.

    ¡°Are you fucking joking? Aubrey, ninety-seven of our classmates died. Are you trying to make it ninety-eight?¡± Jean-Luc yelled.

    He¡¯s getting worked up. Be careful now, Jean-Luc; rising tempers can lead to misplaced words.

    ¡°No. Maybe? I don¡¯t know. My head is fucking killing me,¡± Aubrey said.

    ¡°All the more reason why being a Cape is a stupid idea,¡± Jean-Luc said under his breath.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t stupid. It¡¯s actively making the world safer for everyone. So that people like Davis can¡¯t do that shit again,¡± Aubrey said, raising her voice.

    ¡°Oh yeah. Well, look what being a Cape has got you,¡± Jean-Luc said snarkily.

    ¡°Okay. We¡¯ll get out of here so you can rest. I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay, Aubrey. You have a long road to recovery.  We¡¯re here for you. Let¡¯s go, Jean-Luc,¡± I said, motioning my head toward the door.

    Aubrey turns over in her bed with her back facing us. This went well. Jean-Luc walks out of the door first, not bothering to say goodbye. His shoulders are tight, and his hands are clenched¡ªall the physical signs of repressed anger. I¡¯ve never seen him get angry before. No, that¡¯s incorrect. One day, freshman year, Mrs. Abruzii did that lesson on Paris. He had to go home after having a meltdown in class. The party did a number on him, reawakening dormant trauma. The city he was born in was destroyed by a Cowl. Years later, his new home is attacked by another Cowl. One friend dead, and one taking up a hopeless crusade. How would you react knowing that your final friend has become a Cowl?

    Jean-Luc stomps off down the hall without saying a word to me. Why¡¯s he upset with me? Aubrey¡¯s doctor is waiting outside her room. He most likely came back when he heard Aubrey and Jean-Luc arguing. The two men from earlier are nowhere to be found, but with Waters¡¯ power, they could be halfway around the world by now.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Dr. Malcolm. We didn¡¯t tell her about Marcus. The yelling was because of a difference in opinion on something. I¡¯m glad that my friend is okay; I¡¯ve seen enough death to last a lifetime.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure she appreciates your visit. In a case like hers, you just have to give her time. We¡¯re hopeful that her memories will come back in due time. Whatever happened to your friend, she is extremely lucky that there wasn¡¯t nerve damage due to the electricity,¡± he said.

    ¡°Fingers crossed. Have a good day, doctor,¡± I said.

    I check my phone for any messages from Jean-Luc. There aren¡¯t any notifications, so he probably wants space. Tonight is the night of the raid. I can¡¯t be there; far too many witnesses. Isaiah, Vivienne, and Rorschach have to handle this with just the three of them. Would I be worried if it was something I felt? Vivienne is strong enough to survive anything, and we¡¯ve been working toward her being more cautious. There isn¡¯t anything for Nobody to do tonight. I¡¯ll just spend it with Maria as Eryk. I should stop at Roxy¡¯s to grab some popcorn on my way home. I pull out of the hospital, heading for the grocery store. The road I must walk to remain the ideal boyfriend is littered with minor inconveniences.

 Chapter 30 - Night Mission (V)

    Tonight¡¯s the night. Santiago Skull has committed the crime of running his mouth, and we¡¯re going to make that punk regret it. It¡¯s my fault that we got kidnapped, and it¡¯s my fault we¡¯re in this mess. Nobody only killed Murmur to protect me. Now Santiago Skullfuck has to die. Nobody has placed his trust in me, and I won¡¯t let him down. This mission will be another success. He said I did great last time, and this won¡¯t be any different.

    I pull up to the base, excited to see all the changes Kai has made, but it doesn¡¯t look much different than before. He has had three days to transform it, and I expected at least something would¡¯ve changed. I don¡¯t see Isaiah¡¯s car anywhere. He ditched the stolen truck a couple of days ago. He¡¯s got connections to a chop shop, and he sold it to them. He told me that after he took care of the truck, he was going to retrieve the muscle car he¡¯s got in storage. The more time I spend with that guy, the less I understand him. I thought he was a hired muscle like me, but he has so many weird skills that make me wonder about him. What is his deal?

    I push on the door bar, but it doesn¡¯t budge. And that¡¯s not the only sign that things have changed. There are two home security cameras above the doorway. I hear them zooming in on me, so I flash a smile and flip my hair. The door makes a thumping sound and swings open. That¡¯s cool as hell. I walk on through, and my jaw drops to the floor. The warehouse doesn¡¯t even resemble the place I saw a few days ago.

    Kai removed all the loose and mismatched welding I did on the windows. The walls are now uniform and go straight up. The warehouse is divided in half by a giant wall with a set of double doors big enough for my shifted form to go through. There are a bunch of windows set into the top half of the wall, so there must be a second floor on that side. All of the broken lights have been fixed, and the holes in the concrete from my fight with Isaiah have been filled in as well. There are two rooms built onto either side of the front of the warehouse. The one on the right has a glowing restroom sign, and the one on the left has a spray-painted piece of plywood that says break room. Everything has been repurposed from the surrounding warehouses. Well, I was completely fucking wrong.

    ¡°HEYYYYYY! ANYONE HOME?¡± I yelled out.

    ¡°Why are you yelling?¡± Kai said, his voice coming from a speaker on the ceiling.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you gonna come give me a tour? Come on, it¡¯s the big night. Don¡¯t be a dick,¡± I said.

    Kai sighs into the speaker and, a minute later, comes out through the double doors. He always looks like a cross between a TV magician and Willy Wonka. After my conversations with Isaiah, I¡¯ve been paying more attention to the way people dress. He¡¯s got white overalls, a sleeveless yellow crop top, black mesh sleeves, and black slip-on sneakers. Do I really look worse than him? I¡¯m wearing leggings, a gym tee, and a hoodie. Oh, fuck, Isaiah was right.

    "Why are you yelling? I let you in; now leave me be,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so grumpy. I wanted to come by and see what you¡¯ve done with the place. It looks fucking sweet. The other two won¡¯t be here for another hour at least, so why don¡¯t you show me around to kill time?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No. Unlike you, I have stuff to do. I don¡¯t need to kill time. I have plenty on my plate,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°Come on, don¡¯t be a shit,¡± I said.

    ¡°I said I¡¯m busy, V,¡± he said rudely.

    ¡°Kai, I know it sounded like it was a request, but I was not asking.¡±

    He makes a face but relents. Little prick. Kai leads me toward the double doors, and behind them are the biggest upgrades to the building. He walks me around, showing off the much nicer side of our base. It¡¯s mostly empty, with three doors leading to who knows where. There is a metal staircase to my right that leads to the upstairs. The ceilings are lower due to putting in a second floor, but they¡¯re still taller than my shifted form.

    ¡°Welcome to the office. This is where the important people within our group will be and serves as a command center,¡± he said.

    ¡°What¡¯s up with the raised ceilings?¡± I asked.

    ¡°The raised ceilings, as well as the mostly flame retardant materials used in making the office, are because of you. Obviously,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°Thanks, man. You didn¡¯t have to do that, but it¡¯s nice,¡± I said, smiling.

    ¡°Anyways. From left to right: my operating room, a storage closet, and the underground lab. I¡¯ve moved most of my TinkerTech down to the lab, but it isn¡¯t even close to being finished. The construction drones are good, but they need time for more precise creations. I had to make do, given the little time I had. Upstairs is a conference room and a couple of private offices for all of us,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°Where are your drones? I haven¡¯t seen a single one, and I thought you¡¯d be dying to show off,¡± I said.

    ¡°If you must insist, then I guess I can show you a bit of razzle-dazzle. Come to me, my pretties,¡± he shouted with a witchlike accent.

    At the sound of his voice, I hear tip taps coming from upstairs. All at once, eight backpack-sized robots come rushing down the stairs. They have bulky, garbage can-like bodies with four spidery legs. The front of them has the same camera I saw above the entrance to the warehouse. They all have the same murky steel color to their body and limbs. Each one has a spray-painted number on it, surrounded by a heart. His artistic skills clearly don¡¯t match his engineering ones.

    ¡°Behold! My glorious creations! Aren¡¯t they cute as heck?¡± He asked me.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    ¡°I guess? I don¡¯t know, they kinda look like trashcans with legs,¡± I said honestly.

    ¡°Oh, fuck you. What would you know about aesthetics?¡± He said, eyeing me up and down.

    Great, another person insulting the way I dress.

    ¡°Sorry, I wasn¡¯t trying to be a bitch. I guess they¡¯re kinda cute. So what do they do?¡±

    ¡°These are just construction drones. I haven¡¯t had much time to really go all out on designing new drones for other purposes. I can¡¯t wait to start attempting to integrate the TinkerTech I¡¯ve acquired with my own creations. There¡¯s also the lack of materials. There¡¯s just so much I want to do and experiment with. Sorry, forgive my excitement. You said that the others are coming soon. Is Nobody arriving as well?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Bossman says I¡¯m in charge of the mission. It¡¯ll be just me, Hotpants, and Rorschach. You said there was a conference room upstairs, right? I¡¯m gonna go up there while we wait for them,¡± I said.

    ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll show you the way,¡± he said, leading me up the stairs.

    The second floor is a long hallway with six doors on the right and a single door at the very end. The entire left side of the hall is glass panes with a glass door located right next to us. Behind the glass is an incredibly long conference table made of mismatched wood types, accompanied by twenty office chairs. The robotic arms that I saw inside Kai¡¯s hospital have display monitors on them and are hanging from the ceiling. This looks professional as shit.

    ¡°And with that, the tour is done. Now, if you don¡¯t mind, I''ll take my leave,¡± he said.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t staying for the planning meeting? Rorschach is going to give us all the info she¡¯s found in the last week on that gang,¡± I said.

    ¡°V, respectfully, I don¡¯t give a fuck about what¡¯s going down later. It has nothing to do with me in any capacity. Nobody brought me on for R&D and medical expertise, not to be an enforcer,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°We¡¯re all part of the same team. Don¡¯t you wanna hear what she has to say?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes, but also no. Nobody¡¯s goal is some kind of company, right? That means hundreds of moving pieces and plans. We can¡¯t all work on everything. I wouldn¡¯t ask you to help me with building drones, and you shouldn¡¯t ask me to help with this. I¡¯m not a fighter, and I¡¯d be all but useless in a shootout. All of us have our responsibilities, and mine isn¡¯t out there. It¡¯s in here, getting the lab built for Nobody,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think of it like that. I guess I¡¯m still thinking of this in terms of a crew,¡± I replied.

    ¡°That¡¯s probably because that¡¯s all you¡¯ve known. I, on the other hand, have never been part of a crew and only worked as a business. I bet you¡¯ll have to correct me at some point,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°I hope not. Because you¡¯re right about everybody having their specialty, and mine is violence. So if I have to correct you, it¡¯ll mean I have to hurt you, and I think I¡¯m starting to think I could grow to like you,¡± I said.

    Kai¡¯s face pales at my words, but he recovers and walks away. I don¡¯t like having to threaten him constantly, but he will definitely step out of line at some point. Crews can¡¯t function without respect or fear. He needs to respect Nobody, and if he doesn¡¯t, he will learn to fear me. I¡¯m alone for now, so I carefully open the glass door to the conference room. The last thing I¡¯d want to do is break something, especially before Nobody can see it. The chairs are all comfy and well-made. I take a seat and test out the rotations of it, spinning around till I¡¯m laughing out loud. This is fun. I¡¯m part of a team of Cowls, and we have a lair. I fought two Capes at the same time and came out on top. I¡¯ve possibly made two friends who don¡¯t think I¡¯m a psycho for liking fighting so much. I¡¯m going on a night raid to teach some skullfucks a lesson. I¡¯m happier than I¡¯ve been in years. From where I¡¯m standing in the conference room, I can see the rest of the warehouse. I don¡¯t have anything to do except wait.

    <hr>

    ¡°They¡¯re here. I¡¯m letting them in, and they¡¯ll meet you in the conference room,¡± Kai said through the speaker system.

    I stop pacing and take a seat at the table. It only takes a few minutes before I see Isaiah and Rorshach come up the stairs. Isaiah is completely decked out in tactical gear and has a black beanie on. For the first time since meeting him, he¡¯s dressed appropriately. He looks bigger than the last time I saw him. His power is clearly having an effect. Rorshach is wearing a short, strapless, half-black, half-white dress that shows off every inch of her body. Her lips are a glossy black that matches her manicured nails, all while strutting in stilettos that I can¡¯t even dream of attempting to wear. Damn. Do I wanna be you, or fuck you?

    ¡°Hotpants, I barely recognize you when you aren¡¯t peacockin¡¯ it up,¡± I said.

    ¡°You flatter me. If only your brain were as sharp as your tongue,¡± Isaiah replied.

    I just know he¡¯s smiling in his head. ¡°Rorschach, that¡¯s an interesting outfit choice,¡± I said.

    ¡°I¡¯m recon; I don¡¯t fight. I am here to find out if Santiago is lying or if your boss is. Then I¡¯m going to kill whichever fucker murdered my friend,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°Do not threaten him. Sit down and tell us what you learned about the gang,¡± I commanded.

    ¡°Easy, ladies, we¡¯re on the same team. Rorshach, would you mind telling us what you found? The sooner you do, the sooner we can bring the man responsible to justice,¡± Isaiah said.

    He knows as well as I do that Nobody killed her friend. It¡¯s like everything is a joke to him. I might be working with a psychopath. ¡°It¡¯s like Isaiah said. We¡¯re all after the same thing. Nobody wants this handled, so please tell us all about the skullfucks.¡±

    ¡°Skullfucks suits them better than their actual name, which is Pandilla de los Muertos. Exactly the kind of edgy shit you¡¯d expect from a Halloween-themed gang. They operate out of Broekam Boulevard. It¡¯s several abandoned homes that they¡¯ve transformed into trap houses. There are thirty-six members, including Santiago, and they aren¡¯t big enough to have lieutenants or anything like that. It¡¯s strictly the leader, Santiago, at the top, and everyone else is equal. They believe they¡¯re safe, so there aren¡¯t any guards or anybody scouting. There are no Neuvohumans, only normals, and there is a wide variety of weapons. A total of fifteen semiauto AK47s, twenty glock 45s, and then every member carries at least one hand-to-hand weapon. Some of them have knives, brass knuckles, baseball bats with nails, crowbars, and sledgehammers. The gang doesn¡¯t have many killers. From what I found, only ten of them have bodies. Those ten are the ones allowed to get the body mods and skull face tattoo. Those are the ones that won¡¯t hesitate to shoot. With that said, even as a noncombatant, I wouldn¡¯t consider any of them to be all that dangerous to your shifted form, V,¡± Rorshach said.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing they could do that could harm her,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Good to know. They have a few rival gangs that they compete with for products, corners, and customers, but there won¡¯t be any reinforcements coming. They are strictly drugs; they don¡¯t do prostitution or protection. They deal in weed, molly, coke, and heroin. All of it is cut, and it¡¯s the cheap shit too. The gang does like to party. They throw one nearly every night: drugs, liquor, and groupies in copious amounts. There wasn¡¯t one last night, so don¡¯t be surprised if there is one tonight. And that¡¯s what I found. When are we leaving?¡± Rorshach asked.

    ¡°Wow, you are good. What, it¡¯s like eight? We can leave now if you two are ready,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Rorschach¡¯s a bit of a bitch, but she¡¯s one of the best at what she does,¡± Isaiah said as he winked at her.

    ¡°I liked you better when you looked like you belonged in a pet shop, you scaly dickhead,¡± Rorschach fired back.

    ¡°Please, formerly scaly dickhead. I¡¯m as smooth as your head, babe. And don¡¯t lie to yourself. I¡¯m beautiful,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you have to be the only one who survived? I mean, you are somehow more insufferable than Rushdown. And that guy hummed his own theme song on jobs,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°As much fun as I¡¯m having watching you two make sexually charged barbs at each other, we have a mission. Let¡¯s go,¡± I said.

    ¡°Ew. Constrictor¡¯s not my type,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°I¡¯m everybody¡¯s type; look at me,¡± Isaiah said. I must be making a face because he quickly adds. ¡°Sorry, everybody who likes men¡¯s type.¡±

    ¡°Okay, enough stalling, let''s do this,¡± I said, walking out of the conference room.

    The two of them follow behind me. I go to shout out to Kai that we¡¯re leaving, but I remember what he said. ¡°All of us have our own responsibilities.¡± Once we¡¯re outside, I see the vehicle Isaiah brought for tonight. A deep blue painter¡¯s van that will blend in under the cover of night. There isn¡¯t a single doubt in my mind that he stole it. Hopefully, he didn¡¯t murder the original owner. Isaiah and I sit in front, and Rorschach sits in the back, along with several gallon jugs full of ink. When did they get that stuff? I know she needs them for her little creatures. We got the car, we got the ink, and I got cans of whoopass to hand out. I will not fail.

 Chapter 31 - Raid (V)

    Isaiah parks the van at the corner of the street. The vehicle is hidden by an overhanging tree as well as a fence. In the short time it took for us to get here, I finally decided on what I wanted to do with the remains of the gang. So far, every time I¡¯ve been assertive with a decision, Nobody has agreed with it. Rorschach said that the gang sells drugs, so after we take care of Santiago, I¡¯m going to offer them an opportunity. We have kilos of cocaine that we need to get rid of, and they¡¯re going to push it for us. If they decide to decline, then I will disband them forcefully.

    ¡°Hotpants, don¡¯t kill any of them. Something tells me you have the skills to do it,¡± I said.

    ¡°Sure, any particular reason?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Well, on the one hand, we have thirty kilos of coke that Nobody wants gone. He¡¯s not against us selling drugs, but he doesn¡¯t want to waste time setting up a system that would hold up to his standards. And then, on the other hand, we have an existing system that only needs a couple of changes and is about to be missing their boss. Two birds, one stone,¡± I said.

    ¡°What you¡¯re asking is well within my wheelhouse. I like the idea. And you know Nobody better than I do. If you think this is something he wouldn¡¯t mind, then I¡¯m in,¡± Isaiah responded.

    ¡°He won¡¯t. But he also won¡¯t want to be involved in running it, so it¡¯ll be up to us. I¡¯ll understand if you tell me to fuck off,¡± I said.

    ¡°I¡¯m down, V. No kill shots, nonlethal takedowns. It gives me a chance to test out my new power in real-time. What about you? Have you ever been in a bar room brawl before?¡± He asked.

    ¡°You forget who the hell you¡¯re talking to? I¡¯ve been in more fights than you can imagine,¡± I said with a smile.

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll follow your lead in there,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Both of you roll down your windows,¡± Rorschach said from the back.

    As soon as Isaiah and I roll our windows down, black butterflies come from the back, pouring out the window. Rorschach is sitting cross-legged in the back of the van with her eyes closed in concentration. There¡¯s a wet black orb hovering above her legs, and that¡¯s where the butterflies are coming from. They¡¯re pitch black and seem to be dripping ink, but the drips never seem to drop off. Slowly, more and more of them emerge until I¡¯ve counted at least a hundred.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m set up. I have the entire street under surveillance. The numbers I gave are still accurate, but there are sixteen other people here. Four of them seem to be new recruits, and the other twelve are just here for the party. All of them are armed, but no one has a gun out. The semiautomatic rifles aren¡¯t far out of reach, but you¡¯ll have maybe five minutes before they can grab them once shit pops off. The majority of the members, including Santiago, are inside the red two-story. Four are sleeping in the teal house to the right of the red one. Santiago is located in the basement and is in the middle of receiving a double blowy. Oh, and he¡¯s already done,¡± she chuckled.

    ¡°Both of you put these earpieces in. I already have mine in, and it¡¯ll let Rorschach alert us if anybody else shows up,¡± Isaiah said as he tossed one to each of us. He pulls a black bandana out of his back pocket. ¡°Do you want this to hide your face?¡±

    ¡°No. I want them to see exactly who did this to them,¡± I answered.

    Go time. Isaiah follows close behind me as we leave the van, pulling his beanie down to reveal it¡¯s actually a ski mask. He¡¯s wearing a bulletproof vest, a thin undershirt, dark cargo pants, and combat boots. He has his two silenced pistols, and some flashbangs hang from his belt. Isaiah looks ready for war, and I do look like I¡¯m going to the gym. I¡¯m going to take him up on his offer after this.

    ¡°No scouts on the perimeter. Enter from the back, through the kitchen. Three unarmed hostiles,¡± Rorschach said.

    The whole house is lit up, and dancehall music is blaring from inside. We sneak around the back, and Rorschach is right; there¡¯s no one there. This reminds me of when me and Nobody broke into that bitch¡¯s house. I haven¡¯t shifted yet, and I might not even have to. Everybody inside is drunk, high, or both, and none of them are a match for me. I take a deep breath and nod to Isaiah. The screen door is unlocked, so I confidently stroll in. There are two guys and one girl standing around the kitchen island in the middle of the room, but none of them have tattoos. The whole house reeks of weed, and all three have a beer in their hands. Too easy.

    ¡°Aye, who are you? Never seen your pretty face round here,¡± one of the men said.

    Isaiah is still outside, and they haven¡¯t noticed him. I rush the talker first and jab my fingers into his throat. He keels over, coughing violently. He falls on all fours, vomiting everywhere. Stepping forward, I send a kick into his ribs, feeling a crack through my boots. The other two shout out in alarm, but nobody can hear them over the music. The woman recovers before her buddy, pulling a knife out of her boot. She lunges at me with her knife, and I grab her outstretched wrist. I punch up into her elbow, breaking it. She falls over, dropping her weapon and screaming in pain. I kick the knife out of reach under the stove, moving toward the final person in the kitchen. He looks around for anything he can use as a weapon and settles on his beer bottle. The man chugs the rest of his drink before breaking the bottle on the counter. His swings are wide and shitty, partially due to a lack of training and being shitfaced. I kick his hand up, sending the weapon spinning into the air. He looks up, and I send a soft palm strike at his chest. He stumbles; I catch the broken bottle and stab him in the leg. I send a backward kick into the woman¡¯s head. She collapses unconscious. Fucking amateurs.

    ¡°Holy shit,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°Clear comms, Rorschach,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Got it. Fourteen people up ahead at the end of the hallway. It¡¯s a big room, and the adjacent rooms have six and seven people, respectively. Ten are civilians, but all of the killers are ahead as well. You¡¯re entering the killzone now,¡± Rorschach said.

    Isaiah is inside with me now. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him zip-tying the three fallen gang members. Crafty bastard. Isaiah takes the lead as we proceed toward the living room. He removes two flashbangs from his waist. The living room is huge, and there are several couches people are drinking and smoking on. A fold-out table has two pairs playing beer pong while a couple of girls are doing blow off a glass table. As soon as we enter the room, everybody freezes for a fraction of a second. Then all hell breaks loose. The tattooed skullfucks all reach for weapons as Isaiah chucks a flashbang into the center of the room and the other into one of the adjacent rooms. His giant body saves my eyes from the bright light, but the sound rattles inside my skull.

    ¡°Warn me before you fucking do that, Isaiah. You destroyed my butterflies with that,¡± Rorshach said.

    ¡°Whoops,¡± he said.

    Always disarm your opponent first. Then, dominate them with your superior skill. Isaiah and I dash into the room, splitting off after the people with guns. There are seven, meaning the other three are somewhere else. I can¡¯t hold back. My plan won¡¯t work if I don¡¯t utterly crush them. I open with a cobra punch, sending a guy flying into the wall. I hear Isaiah working behind me, but I have my own shit to focus on. While the beer pong players are trying to blink the spots out of their eyes, I grab them both by the neck and slam their heads off the table. Blood dribbles out of their foreheads as they slump to the ground. One of them wasn¡¯t part of the gang. Oops. The other pair is two women, one of which has the tats and fucked up face. Why the fuck would you do that to your face?

    Skull girl pulls a gun on me, and I duck under the table to avoid getting shot. I lift the table and rush at both women, slamming them against the wall with it. Skull girl¡¯s gun falls, and I let go of the table, dropping it over the gun. A quick jab to both girls¡¯ heads makes them bang off the wall, putting them to sleep. I see a guy is about to shoot Isaiah in the back, and I spear-tackle him to the ground. A right hook cracks his jaw, sending him to la-la land. Isaiah is putting his new ability to good use. Every punch and kick he does breaks bones and puts people out of commission. Rorschach warns me, and I dodge a crowbar aiming for my head, dropping to the floor in a split. I punch my attacker in the dick. He keels forward enough that I can headbutt him into unconsciousness. In less than ten minutes, we¡¯ve taken down seventeen people.

    ¡°The majority of them are waiting for you up ahead with weapons drawn. The moment you attempt to make a move into either room, you¡¯re both getting bombarded with bullets. They¡¯ve brought out the AK47s, and every single person has a gun. Santiago is still downstairs with both women. Besides those two, the only people left in the house are members of Pandilla de los Muertos. If you¡¯ve been holding back, you don¡¯t have to anymore,¡± Rorschach said into the earpieces.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°How do you want to handle this? If you still don¡¯t want to kill any of them, you¡¯re going to need to transform or let me go in first,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Are you bulletproof?¡± I asked.

    ¡°The tests I¡¯ve done say yes. So which do you want to do?¡±

    ¡°Interesting. I¡¯ll do it myself. Time to give these bastards a scare,¡± I said.

    ¡°Of course. Give ''em hell, V,¡± he said.

    I wanted to do this without needing to shift. But I learned from my mistakes, and my pride won¡¯t get in the way of the mission.  The heat builds within me as I take off my hoodie and boots. My other form is more intimidating this way. I have to crouch just to stand in the living room. They¡¯re prepared for an enemy, a rival, but nothing could prepare them for me. I am a natural fucking disaster.

    I don¡¯t use the door. The wall explodes as I charge through it, sending plasterboard and insulation everywhere. I need to end this without cooking any of the people I plan to recruit, so I dispatch them swiftly. They shower me with bullets while shouting threats. I walk through the hailstorm of metal and pick up one of the couches a couple of them are using as cover. From there, I practice my swings, smashing gang members like whack a mole. I¡¯m careful not to hit any in the head, but my hesitation means the couch catches fire in my hand. I toss the flaming furniture into the other room, making the occupants scramble around like scared mice.

    ¡°There are six in the room you just threw the couch into and more above you on the second floor,¡± Rorschach said.

    I stand up fully, pushing my head through the floor. The group of them scream in terror. I plunge my hands into the ceiling and pull down, collapsing the room and sending them all tumbling down. All the debris and dust make it hard to see, but from all the groaning, I got them. Several of them are hurt, nursing broken limbs. I got bigger fish to fry. I just need to leave restraining them to Isaiah. The house has taken too much structural damage for me to break down another wall without destroying everything. A more nuanced attack is needed, so I somersault into the final room. I bet I look dumb as hell doing this. A flaming boulder rolls into a room of violent drug dealers, and you can imagine how they fare. I¡¯m careful not to break any of them, and I aim palm strikes and slaps at their chests. When you¡¯re as big as I am in this form, a simple tap is enough to disarm anyone. My skills aren¡¯t needed for this, and I get no excitement from this fight. I wouldn¡¯t even call it a fight.

    ¡°All clear, come on in,¡± I said.

    ¡°Santiago is the only one left. I¡¯m heading over. Be there in a few minutes,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go have a chat with Mr. Skull,¡± Isaiah said, holding my boots and hoodie.

    I shift back to human form, taking my stuff from him. He seems to be in a hurry to get downstairs. I hope he has a plan because otherwise, he¡¯ll have to kill Rorschach. Isaiah basically leaps down the stairs to the basement, tossing his remaining two flashbangs. Santiago and the two women scream as the grenades go off. Before I even take the last step off the stairs, I hear the sound of three bullets being fired, and the screams go quiet. What the hell is he doing?

    Isaiah is standing over the bodies of two topless women, both with holes in their heads. Fuck. Santiago Skull looks the same as the first time I saw him: ugly tattoos and a skeletal face. His pants are around his ankles, and he¡¯s now sporting a bullet wound in his foot. Isaiah is bent over, whispering something to him that I can¡¯t hear, and Santiago is nodding his head frantically. Before I can ask what¡¯s happening, Isaiah holds a finger up to his lips. All of us are quiet while we wait for the third member of our little posse. Eventually, I hear Roschach¡¯s stilettos click against the wooden steps. All of her butterflies are hovering around her, with a humongous ink python slithering after her. I¡¯ve found the answer to my earlier question. Holy shit, she¡¯s hot. Isaiah and I both step out of her way.

    ¡°Santiago Skull. You came to my group and told us that a man in a faceless black helmet killed Murmur. You claimed that this man, known as Nobody, provoked her into a fight just to murder her brutally. Do you still stand by your words?¡± Rorschach asked.

    Santiago¡¯s eyes flash from Isaiah to the dead girls and back to Isaiah before he answers. ¡°No, I lied.¡±

    ¡°Why the fuck did you lie? Do you know what happened because of your fucking lies? My group is gone because you decided to send us after that crazy asshole. He picked us apart from the moment he met us,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°Because I killed her. That bitch got mouthy with me, so I had to correct her attitude. I mean, that¡¯s what happens when you mouth off to El Jefe. La puta shoulda known better,¡± Santiago replied, sitting up straight on the couch.

    I have no idea what Isaiah said to him to make him do this. What could he have promised or threatened him with? Whatever he¡¯s done, I don¡¯t want to say or do anything to mess up his plan.

    ¡°DON¡¯T CALL HER THAT!¡± Rorschach shouted.

    Her python lunges at Santiago. It won¡¯t do much being made of ink, but the creature doesn¡¯t try to strangle him. The snake goes for his open mouth, worming its way into him. It shouldn¡¯t be possible, but the python shaves pieces of itself off as it spirals into his mouth. Isaiah and I stand in shock as it burrows down his throat, choking him slowly. Ink is coming out of his nose and mixing with the tears from his eyes. Santiago tries to fight it but just succeeds in getting the black liquid all over himself. Oh shit. His stomach is bulging unnaturally from all the liquid filling him up. Rorschach snaps her fingers together, and the creature collapses, leaving the gang leader drenched. He still isn¡¯t dead yet, but he¡¯s drowning from the gallons of ink inside him. Santiago looks worse than Kitt did, and at least with Kitt, I didn¡¯t have to watch. Nobody harmed Kitt for information but gave him a painless death. This is wrong. Rorschach falls to the ground, sobbing. All of her butterflies dissolve, leaving ink splotches on the carpet. The sounds of her crying mixed with Santiago¡¯s gurgling make me want to throw up. It takes an excruciatingly long minute for him to die finally. Mission complete, but I don¡¯t feel happy about it.

    I push my nausea down. This is the reality of what you¡¯ve signed up for, Vivienne. Nobody¡¯s goal won''t be easy or possible without a shitton of enemies. Santiago isn¡¯t the first body, and it won¡¯t be the last. At some point, even my hands are going to be stained. We took care of Skullfuck, but this isn¡¯t over yet. I need to see if my plan for the rest of them will work. Which means I have a speech to make. Isaiah follows me upstairs, leaving Rorschach to deal with her shit alone.

    The house is a mess, but thankfully, the fires faded. The sheer amount of people that Isaiah and I beat the piss out of is crazy. Everywhere I look, someone is nursing an injury or they¡¯re tied up. I weave my way through, searching for the tattooed members. Within those ten is the next leader of the gang. Isaiah figures out what I¡¯m doing and begins helping me grab the killers. It takes a few minutes, but we round them all up in the living room. Isaiah grabs some beer cans off the floor and throws a bit into each of their faces. I need to be a commanding presence. I need to channel Nobody.

    ¡°How do you guys decide who runs this shitshow?¡± I asked.

    They all share the same face tattoos as Santiago and the same type of plates implanted in their faces. Unlike Santiago, all of them have hair. Two of them stand out to me: a white guy built like a goblin with curly brown hair whose arm is broken and a Hispanic chick with bleached white hair and a broken nose. She makes me look tall, and I¡¯m five foot six. Too thin to be my type. These two are the only ones that don¡¯t look like they¡¯ll pee themselves if I speak to them.

    ¡°Either someone speaks, or I transform back, and then it¡¯ll be a very different conversation. What about you, Goblin? You have an answer for me?¡± I said, nudging his arm with my foot.

    ¡°Ow. Am I Goblin?¡± He responded.

    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ obviously,¡± chimed in the white-haired chick.

    ¡°And Casper speaks. Now, are you gonna be a friendly ghost and tell me what I wanna know?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s seniority, whoever been in the gang the longest is in charge. That¡¯s Santiago,¡± Casper said.

    ¡°Was Santiago. He drowned to death downstairs with his dick out,¡± Isaiah added.

    ¡°Hush it, Hotpants,¡± I said.

    ¡°If Santiago¡¯s dead, why aren¡¯t we?¡± Goblin asked.

    ¡°Because she needs us for something. She needs the whole gang; it¡¯s why they didn¡¯t kill anyone,¡± Casper said.

    ¡°Ya¡¯ll are Neuvohumans. Why the fuck do you need us?¡± Goblin asked.

    ¡°I want everyone here to understand that the problem with Santiago is not a problem with the Pandilla de los Muertos. We have coke, a lot of it, and we need people to move it. The way I see it, you guys have two choices. Work for us, or don¡¯t,¡± I said.

    ¡°V, we got four guys outside with weapons. If you guys don¡¯t want to lose them permanently, call them off,¡± Isaiah said.

    Goblin looks around at all the people in the room to figure out who''s outside. ¡°Jose, Maxwell, Lamar, Kenny, cut the friggin¡¯ crap. Put your guns away, and come in slowly. We got company,¡± Goblin shouted.

    The four guys come in with their hands raised and join the rest of the gang. None of them have face tattoos, so they can¡¯t be important. They¡¯re an average collection of gang members, and I¡¯ve dealt with my fair share when I worked with Gio.

    ¡°As I said, you all have a choice. If you decide to take me up on the offer, spray paint a V on the sidewalk in front of this house. You have twenty-four hours. We¡¯re going to have the street under surveillance, so don¡¯t worry about us missing the mark. Hotpants, check on Rorschach. It¡¯s about time we dipped,¡± I said.

    ¡°On it,¡± Isaiah said, heading downstairs.

    Once he leaves, I¡¯m left alone with Pandilla de los Muertos. The eight other killers are either unconscious or too scared to look at me. If they decide to work for me, they¡¯ll only be good at distribution. I need to pick Nobody¡¯s brain and get his opinion on how to put the gang to use. He¡¯s better at all the planning stuff.

    Isaiah returns with Rorschach right behind him. Besides some redness around her eyes, she looks to be doing better. The three of us walk out of the front door and head for the van. Should I say something? Rorschach and I aren¡¯t friends, but I feel like I should try to comfort her. I¡¯ve never killed anyone, so I can¡¯t imagine what it feels like. I need to say something.

    ¡°Rorschach, you got plans for what you¡¯re doing going forward?¡± Isaiah asked.

    ¡°What the fuck are you talking about?¡± Rorschach asked.

    ¡°Our old crew is gone, and your previous animosity with Nobody is resolved. We all worked really well tonight, so why not make this arrangement permanent?¡±

    ¡°Hotpants is right. We made a pretty good team, so why not join us?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care what you both just saw; I¡¯m not a killer. I refuse to be Nobody¡¯s hired gun,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°Nobody doesn¡¯t want or need you to be muscle. That isn¡¯t why he¡¯s interested. He wants you for recon, and even more so once Hotpants and I tell him about tonight,¡± I said.

    ¡°Trust me, Rorschach, this opportunity is unlike anything we did with Veritas and the others. We¡¯re making waves,¡± Isaiah chimed in.

    ¡°I need some time and fucking space before I jump into anything,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°This has a limited timeframe. The offer expires in about a month and a half. If you do decide to join, just stop by the warehouse,¡± I said.

    Rorschach nods her head as we get into the van. Isaiah takes his ski mask off, and we start the drive back to the base. Now that we¡¯ve left the neighborhood behind, I feel the nausea coming back. The shit Rorschach did to Santiago shook me. She isn¡¯t the only one who needs to decompress. I want a hot shower and then a long night¡¯s sleep.

 Chapter 32 - Brainstorming Businesses

    Today is going to be a good day. When I woke up, I saw a text from Vivienne with a thumbs-up emoji. At least one of my problems has been solved. If I secure Rorschach to our cause, then the only people who even know I exist will be my inner circle. I¡¯ll have to find out what happened through Vivienne. She had Isaiah to help her, but she¡¯s new to leadership. I have to give the two of them new orders if we¡¯re going to be ready to move to Quinstin in time for me to start college. Kai has had four days to get the warehouse ready for what I have planned. I need to find a buyer for the drugs and move the database out of my house. Maria has been here 24/7, and I haven¡¯t been able to use it. There are so many things that I need to get done in a little under six weeks.

    ¡°Eryk, are you listening?¡± Maria asked.

    We¡¯re sitting in my living room, relaxing. The house is empty; Daniel is gone.

    ¡°Oh, sorry, babe, I was just thinking about all the things I have to do before I move. And then I started thinking about I¡¯m going to miss seeing you every day. But NHU is only a four-hour Quickrail ride away. I can buy you a pass so you can visit whenever. You can come down and spend the weekend at my apartment,¡± I said.

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s not a bad plan,¡± she said, twirling her hair around her finger.

    That¡¯s her tell. She¡¯s hiding something from me. I pull her over onto my lap and kiss her neck. The physical connection, combined with the closeness, will make it harder to lie.

    ¡°You said total honesty, but you¡¯re hiding something from me. Maria,¡± I said.

    Did she tell someone about Marcus and Davis? I close my arms around her, keeping her close. I can strangle her here and now, and all of the bullshit ends. Maria will die if she¡¯s betrayed me.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing bad, okay? Just promise you won¡¯t be upset,¡± Maria said.

    I push my fingers through her hair and feel the softness of it. I could yank her head back and then break her face.

    ¡°You can tell me anything; I could never be mad at you,¡± I said.

    ¡°Okay, I lied about UNH. I actually applied to QUTD, and I got in. Isn¡¯t that amazing? We can stay together forever,¡± Maria said.

    No. Nononononononononononono. NO! I can feel my blood boiling as Punch¡¯s aggression whispers to strike at her. I feel the urge rising inside me to beat her within an inch of her life, to forcibly remove the thorn in my life permanently. I can¡¯t break up with her because she¡¯ll either snap and kill me or tell the cops about the murders. I clench my teeth so tightly they¡¯re grinding together. It¡¯s only due to the fact my face is buried in her hair that she can¡¯t see my expression. All these years of discipline are barely helping me control myself. How does she manage to make everything worse? I will never be free of her, not until she is six feet under.

    ¡°I¡¯m so glad. I¡¯ll get to go to sleep next to the woman of my dreams and then wake up next to the love of my life every morning. Now, my loft won¡¯t feel so empty. Maria, this is a wonderful surprise,¡± I said.

    ¡°Yay, I knew I was overthinking it,¡± she squeaked, kissing me lightly.

    ¡°Speaking of Quinstin. I do have some errands I have to run today, so I should get going,¡± I said, getting up off the couch.

    ¡°I¡¯ll miss you, but I have had you to myself nonstop for almost three days. I guess I can be away from you for a little bit. I have to grab some stuff from my house today, anyway,¡± Maria said.

    ¡°I might get home late, but I¡¯ll text you tomorrow. I love you, and I can¡¯t wait for Quinstin.¡±

    ¡°Love ya too,¡± Maria said on her way out the door.

    I need to maximize the next twenty-four hours. The first thing I do is text Vivienne to meet me here in two hours. The next thing to do is exercise. I¡¯ve been steadily putting weight back on, but I need to work out to maintain my physique. I¡¯ve been in too many situations where being in shape has kept me alive to slack now. Rep after rep, followed by cardio on the bike until I¡¯m dripping buckets. I push myself to the brink physically for a reprieve from my thoughts.

    Maria cannot be allowed to go to Quinstin with me, but I can¡¯t be the one to do it. I would need an intermediary to contract a third party to kill her. Possibly even need more obfuscation or another level of seperation. The boyfriend is always the immediate suspect when a woman goes missing. I need an alibi so airtight they wouldn¡¯t even think to question me. I can¡¯t ask Vivienne to do it; she isn¡¯t a killer. She might do it if I ask, but that would change our relationship forever. And I can¡¯t ask Isaiah because it leads back to my civilian identity. He would question why Nobody is having him assassinate a random girl from some tiny town. I¡¯m stuck between a rock and a hard place, and I cannot seem to think of a clear way out. There aren¡¯t enough pieces on the board to facilitate her death. All of that will wait until I¡¯m at the warehouse. I have twenty minutes until Vivienne arrives, and I need to shower and change.

    Vivienne texts me just as I get out of the shower. I text her to come inside, and I hear her walking up the stairs. Today will be a good day. I throw on some clothes just as she knocks on my door.

    ¡°Come on in. I¡¯m decent.¡±

    Immediately I notice something about her is different. It¡¯s the incline of her head, the correction of her posture, and the swagger of her walk. Vivienne is confident and happy. No, not happy, but something similar. She¡¯s giddy about something. I take a seat on my bed and offer her the chair.

    ¡°Hey, Nobody, how ya been?¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been fine, and please refer to me as Eryk if I don¡¯t have the helmet on.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, bossman. I¡¯ll work on it, but in my head, I only think of you as Nobody,¡± she said.

    ¡°I can understand what you mean, but you never know who could be listening. I¡¯m not trying to scare you with paranoid words. Being careful is what will allow us to succeed where others fail,¡± I said.

    ¡°You haven¡¯t steered me wrong, so I¡¯ll trust you know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± Vivienne replied.

    ¡°Trust but verify. You are clever and resourceful. I have to say, the emoji was smart; if anyone saw my texts, nothing was incriminating about it. It does bring up a glaring problem. I need a burner phone so I can fully separate my civilian and Cowl lives. Communicating with the others through you isn¡¯t a long-term solution. You aren¡¯t my secretary or assistant, Vivienne; you¡¯re my right hand. How did everything go last night?¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Eryk.¡± My name still sounds stilted, coming out of her mouth. At least she¡¯s trying. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to Isaiah, but I¡¯m sure he¡¯s already thought of it. That guy is always one step ahead. He¡¯s dangerous and an incredible guy to have to watch your back.¡±

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°It¡¯s good that you two work well together. The thumbs-up was a little vague. Tell me about how the mission went,¡± I said.

    ¡°We compliment each other. If I were to sum up last night¡¯s mission in one word, it would be: fucking amazing. Which I know is two words, but like fuck man, we kicked so much ass. Santiago is dead, with only two other casualties. Not only that, but I did something I think you¡¯ll appreciate,¡± she said.

    ¡°Who killed Santiago?¡± I asked. She isn¡¯t Maria, prone to ruining everything she gets involved with. She knows me and my goals well enough not to cause problems purposely.

    ¡°Rorschach killed him, and it was fucked up. Isaiah said something to him, and he willingly confessed to Murmur¡¯s murder. Then she did something just awful. She made this giant snake with her power and then had it crawl down his throat. He drowned in ink, and it wasn¡¯t quick. He suffered the entire time. I¡¯m not afraid of a little bloodshed, but that was a terrible way to go,¡± she said softly.

    ¡°He made his bed, V. There was no enmity between us until he shared something he shouldn¡¯t have. Making a person suffer should serve a purpose, either for information or as an example. Enemies should be dealt with swiftly and without mercy. Now, what was that other thing you wanted to tell me about?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Oh, yeah. We¡¯ve been trying to figure out what to do with all the drugs, so after we wrecked their shit, I gave the gang an offer. I thought about what you¡¯d do in my shoes, and I told them to join or disband,¡± Vivienne said.

    Excellent work. This is exactly the type of good news I needed. But has she thought it through?

    ¡°V, you know I¡¯m not interested in entering the drug game. I¡¯m trying to leave it. The plan was never to become a drug dealer,¡± I said.

    ¡°I know. That¡¯s why I didn¡¯t mention you at all. Me and Isaiah will be the ones running it¡ªabsolutely zero connection to you. The gang will never know that there is someone else at the top. When I made my offer, only two of them had the balls to look at me. Those two will be the new co-leaders of that gang. They¡¯re going to take my offer because there¡¯s no other choice for them. They aren¡¯t up to the standard that I know you¡¯d have, so I¡¯m gonna need to change how they operate,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°I guess I had nothing to worry about. If you¡¯re sure about this, then I¡¯ll trust you. You¡¯ve more than earned it. I said don¡¯t want to be involved, but I¡¯m here if you have ideas you want to bounce off me,¡± I said.

    ¡°I appreciate your support and I do want to pick your brain about it. They have thirty-nine members; ten are shooters, and I picked two of the ten to be the new leaders. I figured that having two of them would help with settling disputes, and if one dies, there¡¯s still another. They deal with small quantities of heavily cut drugs: heroin, coke, molly, and weed. They party a lot with their own shit. When we hit them, they had nobody on the perimeter. It was frustratingly easy. The way they run their operation is sloppy. I can point out every flaw they have, but I¡¯m having trouble visualizing how to fix it,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°I have a few ideas. This is all hypothetical until they agree. But the first thing is to stop them from getting high on their own supply. You can¡¯t be a drug dealer and a drug addict. Enforcing sobriety on a gang is nearly impossible, but it is doable over a long-term period. The second thing I¡¯d do is create even more structure. You have you and Isaiah at the top, followed by the two new leaders, but then what? Create tiers within the gang that people can move up through. Stop dealing with the impure and cut stuff; it¡¯s bad business that only hurts in the long term. Stick to the pure cocaine we have and sell it at a premium to a wealthier group of clientele. I¡¯m sure Isaiah can find another supplier if the business proves lucrative. Pretty up all the gang members who don¡¯t have the fucked up faces, and keep them healthy and clean. Those are the ones who will interact with the upper-crust customers. You and Isaiah might have to make house calls until members of the gang prove themselves. Everyone starts at street level, moving weed and molly. The skulls who have killed you have run protection and intimidation. Keep them happy but controlled. They are the ones who will eventually go the way of the dodo. But those are just my initial thoughts without knowing hard numbers and personnel,¡± I said.

    ¡°Jesus Christ. Thanks for the advice, you¡¯re good at this shit, Nobody. What¡¯s the plan for today?¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°I want to move the database to the warehouse. Speaking of, how¡¯s it looking? Has Kai completed the lab yet?¡±

    ¡°It looks incredible, and he¡¯s done so much in just a few days. We can go now if you¡¯re ready,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°I¡¯m all set,¡± I said, sliding my mask into my bag.

    <hr>

    When we pull into the docks, I activate the mask, becoming Nobody. The warehouse doesn¡¯t look any different, except the metal welded over the windows is gone. Kai or someone replaced the metal with cardboard and wood. It makes it look more abandoned. Smart. Welded metal implies something more than just squatters or junkies. It implies machinery, tools, and someone with something to hide. Maybe I¡¯m being too paranoid, but it¡¯s worked for me so far.

    ¡°Before we go in, here¡¯s that gun you asked Isaiah for,¡± Vivienne said.

    She passes me a black briefcase. I pull it onto my lap and pop it open. Inside the case is a foam mold holding a pistol, silencer attachment, and ten magazines of ammunition.  I don¡¯t know enough about weapons to guess what type it is. The gun is just a gun. As long as it shoots where I point and kills what it hits, I¡¯m good. I¡¯ll need to practice with it later to make sure I¡¯m comfortable. I leave my backpack in the car and bring the briefcase with me. She¡¯s carrying the database by herself like it¡¯s nothing.

    I follow Vivienne up to a side door that¡¯s been changed. It¡¯s solid, bulletproof steel and stands out from the rest of the building¡¯s worn-down look. There¡¯s a security camera aimed down at the entrance, tracking us as we walk up. Vivienne waves up at the camera, and a second later, I hear hissing from pistons as the door opens inward.

    As soon as we enter, I can see all the changes Kai has made. Vivienne is excited as she gives me the tour, going over everything Kai built. The front of the house is for lesser members and staff. All the pieces essential to our operation are in the second half of the building. That second-floor mirror is one way, allowing us to see down, but no one can see up at us. She¡¯s proud of all of this. She has every right to be; she helped build it. But this is just a stepping stone. If Kai accomplished all of this in less than a week, then the possibilities are endless. This will open up new streams of revenue. I could buy underdeveloped land and build houses to rent in Quinstin¡ªlegal money from a legal business. She stops right before we go through the double doors.

    ¡°We all have offices upstairs. I¡¯m assuming you want this thing in yours. Kai should be around here somewhere, and Isaiah is on his way. Do you want to hold a meeting once Isaiah¡¯s here? We gave Rorschach the offer and told her to drop by here if she wanted to join. For what it¡¯s worth, I think she will,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°Your judgment has proven pretty spot on. The meeting will just be me, you, and Isaiah. As soon as we¡¯re finished, I¡¯m going to start on the work I brought Kai on for. Finalize your gang plan today. Those two leaders you picked are allowed inside, but keep them in the front, not back here. And only those two are allowed on the property,¡± I responded.

    Vivienne transforms, lifting the database with one hand. I follow her through the doors and up the staircase. Kai built everything to accommodate her Shifter form. That¡¯s good, she deserves it. Seeing all of this should make me feel something, but it¡¯s like I¡¯m back to square one. Diminish¡¯s power cannot stay with me. The upstairs is perfect. A conference room on my left, big enough for twenty people, and on the right side there are six offices. At the end of the hall, I see a lone room that must be mine. Inside is a Herman Miller office chair, a mahogany oak desk, and a computer setup. It¡¯s devoid of any personality. Fitting. He didn¡¯t build these things, which means he purposefully went out and got them.

    ¡°Set it down by the desk. I have some research to do for new targets. We¡¯ll have our meeting in thirty,¡± I said.

    ¡°Got it,¡± she said, closing the door behind her.

    It''s time to pick the next powers to take.

    <hr>

    ¡°Before we begin, I¡¯d like to say that you both did well. Vivienne has already communicated what happened last night, but I¡¯d like to ask if you want to tell your side as well,¡± I said.

    ¡°Whatever V told you is exactly what happened. She isn¡¯t the type to embellish,¡± Isaiah smiled.

    ¡°You¡¯re a sweet talker, Hotpants. You¡¯re gonna make me blush.¡±

    ¡°Then on to my next question. Do you believe that Rorschach will join us?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I believe so. She no longer has any reason to hate or suspect you, plus the three of us worked incredibly well together. Rorschach isn¡¯t the kind of Cowl who would try to pull off a job solo. That means she¡¯d need partners, and most Cowls aren¡¯t as violence-averse as she is. By virtue of our old group being dead, she will eventually come around,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°In that case, going forward, I¡¯ll be planning with her joining us in mind. While I could still just take her power and kill her, that isn¡¯t how I want to handle things. There are already plenty of bodies, and more will come. I¡¯m going to be sending the two of you out separately for your next assignments. Vivienne, get your gang project up and running today. I¡¯ll text you the details on the next Neuvohumans I need,¡± I said.

    ¡°Got it. I¡¯m gonna go ask Kai to borrow one of his drones. I¡¯ll be back once I¡¯ve grabbed a target and spoke to the skullfucks,¡± Vivienne said before taking her leave.

    Once the two of us are alone, I speak. ¡°Isaiah, you and I have a lot in common. We both see problems in the same light. That¡¯s why I feel I can trust you with some of my more unsavory missions. With that being said, you¡¯re going to have a similar assignment as V, but with a slight difference.¡±

    ¡°Whatever you need, Nobody.¡±

    ¡°I have a lot of ideas occupying my brain concurrently, mostly with how to acquire more abilities and gain political power. There is something I have started that will help accomplish both, and I need your assistance with it. I aim to create a human vigilante who kills Neuvohumans who abuse their powers. I¡¯m not talking about Cowls who rob banks or sell drugs. I¡¯m talking about the real scum of the earth types, including some Capes. I¡¯m going to need you to help me fabricate a Neuvohuman serial killer who takes revenge against the ones who slipped through the justice system. I¡¯ve already killed one of them, but nobody will know it¡¯s a serial killer until more bodies appear. We¡¯ll take their powers and then their lives,¡± I said.

    ¡°I won¡¯t let you down. And you know what, it¡¯ll be fun,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Excellent. Your first target is a man by the name of Curtis Drax. He¡¯s a wealthy cretin who can generate an incredibly potent and addictive high in people via physical contact. He uses this to gain blackmail on people through their spouses, family members, and affair partners. Then, he uses that information to extort politicians and upper-class citizens. No conviction has been able to stick, thanks to the nearly infinite number of favors he can call in. I want him brought to me, along with all the blackmail he¡¯s collected,¡± I said.

    ¡°Guy like that''s going to have bodyguards. How do you want them handled? I can make it look however you want.¡± Isaiah said.

    You¡¯re exactly the kind of soldier I¡¯ve needed. Isaiah Jules, you are such an asset.

    ¡°Make it look like it was personal¡ªa vendetta from a group of people fed up with the law failing them. Again, make it look like an entire group did it. On an unrelated note, thank you for the gun. Are you able to get us some burner phones? It will make it easier for me to contact you all directly rather than through V.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s no issue. I¡¯ll bring them next time. Is there anything else you need?¡±

    ¡°No, that¡¯ll be all for now. But after Curtis, I¡¯m going to need you to pick up some test subjects for me,¡± I said.

    He smiles and then leaves me alone in the conference room. I hope you¡¯ve finished building it, Kai. We have so much work to do.

 Chapter 33 - Experimentation

    Kai is waiting for me when I walk down the stairs¡ªsurrounded by his four-legged cylinder drones and a single flying one. It¡¯s a small orb the size of a tennis ball with a camera attached to the front of it. Four rotors extend out in each cardinal direction, keeping it afloat. The power is still limiting him from adding weapons to them.

    ¡°Welcome, Nobody. I hope you find this place is up to your standard,¡± Kai said nervously.

    ¡°You performed excellently with the limited time and resources. Your work here has given me several ideas for some very lucrative business ventures. I¡¯m very pleased with what you¡¯ve done to disguise the building. If I was to voice a suggestion. It would be that the door gives away the image you¡¯ve worked so hard to create,¡± I said.

    Kai shifts slightly in place at my praise.

    ¡°Yes, the door was an unfortunate compromise I had to make. To get the level of security we need, the entrance had to be made the way it is.¡±

    ¡°The entrance is fine as is. It wasn¡¯t a real complaint. The rest of the place accomplishes the goal you set out to. Getting discovered at this point would be catastrophic,¡± I said.

    ¡°Honestly, the reason I went so over the top is because I ran into a problem on the first day of construction.¡± My silence encourages him to continue. ¡°The docks have a large homeless population, and one of them wandered over to investigate during construction. She came, begging for money. I tossed her some cash I had lying around. Haven¡¯t seen any of them since, so I think my modifications have worked to hide us,¡± Kai said hesitantly.

    ¡°You handled it well. Chin up, Kai, you exceeded my expectations,¡± I said.

    ¡°Oh, thank you. Do you want to see the lab now?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°Before that, how are you adjusting to the Tinkerer powers? Have you noticed any changes or side effects?¡± I asked. Now that Aubrey has forgotten everything, I can¡¯t use her as a benchmark for my ability.

    He loosens up at my question, relaxing as he realizes he isn¡¯t in danger. ¡°It¡¯s incredible, like almost unbelievable. I have all this knowledge that¡¯s nestled in my brain: circuitry, motors, and artificial pathing programs. But I have run into the TIDE already,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°I¡¯m not too familiar with Tinkerers, so what is the tide?¡± I asked.

    ¡°T.I.D.E. It¡¯s an acronym for Technological Inhibiting Dissociation Effect. It¡¯s a type of mental affliction that prevents Tinkerers from circumventing their specialization. For example, I tried to scale up my construction drones to be the size of motorcycles and suddenly found myself on the floor, unaware of how I got there. It seems like my ability considers drones to be of a certain size. Same thing would happen if I tried to use any of the motherboards or processing units to build a computer. I can create fantastical technology but only to be used in my drones,¡± he said.

    In retrospect, it makes sense. It also explains why there hasn¡¯t been a benevolent Tinkerer who used their ability to elevate all of humanity¡¯s tech level. I wonder if we can figure out a workaround for it. If I were to give Kai another Tinkerer ability, would he be able to use one specialization to alter the other? There are so many things we need to explore and experiment with.

    ¡°Fascinating. Perhaps the two of us will be able to figure out a way to circumvent the tide.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t circumvent the Tide. The name came before the acronym. Because it¡¯s like fighting the ocean; you can¡¯t,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°Doctor, we are already striving for the impossible. The Tide is just another problem for us to solve. But for now, why don¡¯t we head down to the lab, and you can show me what you¡¯ve built?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Right away, sir,¡± Kai responded.

    He¡¯s nervous around me. From what Vivienne told me, he has no problem mouthing off or being assertive with everyone but me. I reward competency, and he is extremely competent, so why is he afraid?

    I follow Kai through the door leading to our subterranean laboratory. Multiple flights of stairs greet me. I thought it¡¯d have an elevator, at the very least. I don¡¯t mind the monotonous cardio as we descend six stories down. The stairs end in a brightly lit hallway with cameras covering the ceiling. I notice that some of the metal plates making up the hallway look like they¡¯re offset from the rest. Is that where the weapons are hidden? I did tell him this had to be secure and that no one could be allowed to leave the lab once imprisoned. The hallway ends in a solid iron door with a keypad.

    ¡°The passcode is 674128. Upon your instructions, nobody else knows the code,¡± Kai said, typing in the code for me to see.

    The door hisses before it slides into the wall. My eyes can¡¯t believe the scale of what I see. A room the same size as the warehouse above it, with twenty locked hatches all equally apart. To my right are several operating tables complete with restraints and metallic surgical limbs. All around me are Kai¡¯s previous Tinkerer gadgets and creations. On my left is Kai¡¯s drone workshop, with half-finished pieces and parts all over the place. One of the walls has a giant screen on it, made up of dozens of televisions and monitors. The screen shows the rooms below each hatch. Each room has a cot, toilet, and sink. These are the cells I wanted. All of them are built to withstand nearly anything a Neuvohuman can throw at it. Below it is a desk with a few keyboards and computers set up. The computers are showing the hallway, the staircase, the entrance, and this room we¡¯re in. There are wheeled whiteboards strewn about everywhere. I can¡¯t help but walk around, exploring everything. This is brilliant. When I finally stop moving, I see Kai staring at me awkwardly.

    ¡°Kai, you have done well, very well. You and I will make history here,¡± I said.

    ¡°I¡¯m relieved it meets your needs. I did the best I could with the limited time. I¡¯ll admit I was worried about your reaction. Would you like me to go over everything with you?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Put your worries aside. Please show me what you¡¯ve built. I prefer to be well acquainted with everything under my control.¡±

    Kai begins to explain the cells he¡¯s made when the large screen flashes, showing a woman banging at the entrance. She¡¯s mid-forties, light-skinned, and doesn¡¯t look well. Her clothes are dirty and torn, and she isn¡¯t wearing any shoes. And a willing participant appears.

    ¡°What is she doing back here?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°And this would be the homeless person from before?¡±

    ¡°Yes. She probably just used the money I gave her to get high. I didn¡¯t think she¡¯d come back here,¡± Kai answered.

    ¡°Let her in.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure? Isn¡¯t this place supposed to be a secret?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°Yes, but considering she knows it exists, you¡¯ve already failed once to protect this base¡¯s secrecy. Don¡¯t fret, though; we now have our first test subject,¡± I said.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Kai said.

    He presses a button on one of the keyboards in front of the computers, and I see the door open. The woman walks in, looking around for anyone but finding no one. Her irregular way of walking and constantly jerking her head around means she¡¯s currently high.

    ¡°You can¡¯t use your drones for anything other than their intended purpose, but see if you can corral her to us using them,¡± I said.

    Kai nods and presses a few buttons on his keyboard, sending the drones marching out of the room and upstairs. The robots surround her and scare her into going through the double doors. There aren¡¯t any cameras in the second half of the building, so I can¡¯t follow her adventure. As she enters the stairway, I can see her stumbling down the stairs, screaming. It doesn¡¯t take her long to get down to our level. She enters the hallway screaming as Kai¡¯s construction drones climb across the walls and ceiling after her. Her face is stricken with panic as she runs down the hallway. Without the cameras, I wouldn¡¯t even be able to hear her pounding on the steel slab, begging to be let in.

    Stolen story; please report.

    ¡°Go get her and keep her quiet,¡± I said.

    Kai makes his way over to one of the benches with all of his TinkerTech. He rummages around and grabs a syringe with a clear liquid inside. He punches in the code for the door, and the woman comes crashing through, falling on her face. She continues screaming as she crawls away from the drones until Kai jams the syringe into her neck. She spasms slightly before going still.

    ¡°Do a full physical and intake on her. I want a profile on her to reference after every test we do. Once that¡¯s done, we¡¯ll begin. Do you need anything from me, or would you prefer to work solo? This isn¡¯t a test. If this will go smoother without me watching over your shoulder, then say so,¡± I said.

    Kai doesn¡¯t respond, watching me intensely. He¡¯s looking to see if this is a trick. Unfortunately for him, the whole point of my helmet is to make me faceless and inscrutable. Quit trying, Kai, and just trust that I¡¯m not the vicious monster you¡¯ve created in your mind.

    ¡°Respectfully, so respectfully, my work would get done quicker if I was alone. Only if that¡¯s okay with you, that is,¡± Kai said nervously.

    The sycophantic pleading and tiptoeing around me is scraping at my patience. First Maria with her ridiculous surprise, and now my criminal doctor is scared of offering his opinion. It¡¯s taking everything I have to put a lid on Punch¡¯s aggressive tendencies. I do not need a yes-man. If he cannot get over this fear, I¡¯ll have to find someone else. I need to nip this in the bud.

    ¡°Kai, are you afraid of me?¡±

    ¡°Wha- What?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°You are nervous around me, unconfident, and worst of all subservient. We are creating an empire here, and you were chosen to help build it. Where did the cocky bastard who tried to extort me for all I have go? The one who gave me a deadline and a threat? You are one of four people who know I exist. Do you understand the trust and confidence I¡¯ve extended to you? Your life isn¡¯t in danger, Kai. I am not some impulsively violent psychopath who will strike you if you disagree. You are part of my inner circle, and I take care of my people. I¡¯ll give you space; I¡¯ll be in my office while you work. Send a drone when you¡¯re finished. Remember this: the difference between a king and a tyrant is that one rules by belief and the other by terror.¡±

    ¡°And which one are you?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°I am neither a king nor a tyrant; I¡¯m a conqueror. And I think you¡¯ll find conquering is a lot nicer than being conquered,¡± I said, walking away.

    <hr>

    I lose track of time while using the database, and it isn¡¯t until the drone finally slams into my office door that I break out of it. How long was it tapping at my door before Kai resorted to that? I sign out of the database and follow the drone to the lab. I¡¯m so close to figuring out the secrets of my power, and I¡¯m as cold as the day I was born. The sooner we can start working on the addict, the sooner I can offload Diminish¡¯s power. As soon as I walk through the door, I see the woman unconscious on one of Kai¡¯s tables. He has her hooked up to several different machines with their own displays. He¡¯s holding a tablet in his left hand while his spidery right arm taps away at it.

    ¡°I have a full profile of her done minus her personal information. She has a lot of different stimulants and hallucinogens in her blood. She¡¯s missing several teeth, suffering from malnutrition, and has two cracked ribs. None of it¡¯s life-threatening, but I¡¯ve got her on an IV of Nutrimeno fluid. Depending on how long our research takes, we¡¯ll need to meet with a supplier of it,¡± Kai said.

    This is a marked improvement over the stuttering mess. I doubt we¡¯ll have a relationship similar to the one I have with Vivienne, but being frank and professional is acceptable.

    ¡°Let me know once you¡¯re close to running out, and we¡¯ll determine a course of action. None of our subjects will be leaving, but I don¡¯t want starvation to affect the results possibly. Keep her alive, and get her clean. The first test we¡¯ll do is the effect of giving someone two powers. This is perhaps the most important test, so make sure you keep a record of everything,¡± I said.

    ¡°What abilities are you going to give her? We should keep track in case certain ability-specific phenomena manifest. You haven¡¯t given anybody two abilities, and there¡¯s no telling what might happen.¡±

    I place my hand against her bound wrist and think over what two abilities to give her. In terms of which powers to give her, there are only two that come to mind: Erisate¡¯s and Froggy¡¯s. Neither power nor the associated personality piece is all that valuable. He¡¯s right about being careful in case something goes wrong. On the off chance that multiple powers can kill a person, I¡¯ll need to use the third part of my ability to retrieve the powers immediately. I¡¯ll explain it away that powers return to me when their users die. No one can ever know about it, not even Vivienne. My anonymity matters less than my secret.

    ¡°I¡¯m giving her the following abilities: a Manipulator/Alter that can change where their center of gravity originates from and a Manipulator who gains telekinesis over items they imbue with an internal energy,¡± I said.

    ¡°Got it. Entering all of that into her profile,¡± Kai said.

    I focus on the collection inside me, all ten powers nestled safely. In the back of my consciousness is the vague sense of where Isaiah, Vivienne, and Aubrey are, thanks to our connection. With Kai being so close to me, the sense is much stronger, and I can pinpoint his movements. Am I stalling? Take a deep breath, and begin. There¡¯s no trouble with starting the transfer, and I¡¯m even able to do both at the same time. The five minutes seem to drag on but also feel too short. She doesn¡¯t move or change in any visible way.

    ¡°It¡¯s done. What are her vitals looking like?¡± I asked.

    ¡°She¡¯s completely stable, no elevated heart rate or abnormal readings on any of the sensors. As far as I can tell, she¡¯s exactly the same as she was prior. I¡¯ll continue to monitor her for the next couple of hours, and then I¡¯ll place her in a cell.¡±

    ¡°I trust you to alert me if anything else transpires, doctor. I¡¯ll be in my office.¡±

    So far, she is a success, but is she an outlier or the average? Can everyone accept two abilities, or is she special? We need more test subjects¡ªa good amount to test on. Transients will be easier to disappear and dispose of than affluent citizens. It isn¡¯t exactly hard to find people who slip through the cracks in Crimton.

    I leave the lab behind me and start my trek up the staircase again. Kai needs to put in an elevator. I¡¯m going to end up with over a hundred thousand steps without it. Vivienne should be done soon. The Cape she¡¯s after isn¡¯t powerful, just tough. Isaiah is in more danger than her, but I do not doubt that he¡¯ll succeed.

    <hr>

    Vivienne arrives back at the base first, dragging a burned Cape behind her. The woman¡¯s brown skin is pink and charred. Offset isn¡¯t dead, or Vivienne wouldn¡¯t have brought her back, but she looks worse than Callback did after his fight with V. She must¡¯ve put up quite the fight to look this bad by the end of it. The ability to transfer injuries to another person is so incredibly valuable. I wonder what her gift will be. We meet up in front of the entrance to the laboratory staircase. Vivienne flashes me a cocky grin.

    ¡°Her power is fucking dope, Nobody. Like obviously, you know, ''cause you sent me after her, but in action, it is insane. I had to keep shifting back and forth to heal the injuries she was passing on to me. I¡¯ve never been on the losing end of a battle of attrition before, and it was awesome. I had to wait her out until I was giving off enough heat to fucking cook her. She found out she couldn¡¯t pass off burns to my shifted form and tapped the fuck out from pain,¡± Vivienne said.

    I place my bare hand against the charred Cape¡¯s neck and start to steal her power. ¡°Excellent, Vivienne. How did talks with the gang go?¡±

    ¡°Everyone agreed, minus these three bitches. They want nothing to do with Neuvohumans or me. They¡¯re just scared. Those three are no longer a part of the gang. I put Casper and Goblin in charge and told them about the changes you suggested. The two of them told me they could make it work, and I have a plan to meet them in about a week for the drop off of the coke. I gotta say I really like having minions,¡± she said.

    ¡°You have to decide what type of leader you want to be. You can be a steady guiding hand or a strong, fierce grip. Either trust them to follow your instructions or constantly micromanage everything. Just remember that people are more willing to do what you ask if it¡¯s something already in their nature. You can not teach a fish to fly, and you can not make an attack hound out of a purse puppy. Decide soon. What you¡¯re doing could become helpful, but your project cannot interfere with what we¡¯re doing, V. I will kill every last one of them before I let them jeopardize our goals,¡± I said.

    ¡°I know, Nobody. I understand, and I¡¯m not gonna fuck anything up.¡±

    ¡°Actions over words. Now, Isaiah has the key to the next step in my plan, but until he gets here, let¡¯s drop our guest off with the doctor,¡± I said as the power transfer ends.

    Offset¡¯s ability allows her to shift injuries, wounds, diseases, and sickness onto other people. There¡¯s a limit to it; she can¡¯t pass a missing limb or any kind of permanent damage. The ability is still incredibly powerful. Unfortunately, she has given me another problematic piece¡ªhonesty, bordering on compulsion. Being unable to lie as Nobody isn¡¯t that big of an issue, but my Eryk persona cannot exist without lying¡ªanother setback to deal with. Relax, it¡¯s a problem for later.

    On the bright side, I have a solution to one of my problems right in front of me. I¡¯ll see if Kai can keep her alive, and then I¡¯ll dump Diminish and Punch¡¯s personality pieces onto her. I don¡¯t want her healed; we can leave her as is. Vivienne carries Offset down the stairs for me, leaving her in front of the door.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got it from here, V.¡±

    ¡°Do you have anything else you need me to do?¡± Vivienne asked.

    I pause to think about it. ¡°No. You¡¯re free to go. I¡¯ll text you when it¡¯s time to leave.¡±

    I wait until I hear her walking up the stairs before I enter the door code. It isn¡¯t that I don¡¯t trust Vivienne, but the fewer people who know about a secret, the less chance there is of it getting out. I punch the code in and drag Offset through the door. Kai¡¯s back is to me, but his head turns as I enter. His eyes hone in on Offset¡¯s body as I drag her in.

    ¡°Got us another volunteer. I¡¯ve already removed her ability. Just the bare minimum for treatment, keep her alive, not comfortable. Do not waste any of your resources on her,¡± I said.

    ¡°Alrighty. Have you already picked out which abilities you want to give her?¡± Kai asked me.

    ¡°Yes, I have. I¡¯ll be giving her a touch-based Alter that can shrink inorganic objects and a Caster that can create kinetic projections from their extremities. Are you confident in the cells you¡¯ve made? Because it¡¯s your life that will be at risk if they escape,¡± I said.

    ¡°Every single cell is bulletproof and constructed out of reinforced concrete with metal plates and rebar inside. I have an anesthetic gas, flame-dampening foam, and several sedative cocktails that will activate if they try to escape. I can make adjustments if you decide to start holding tier fours, but for what we¡¯re dealing with, it¡¯s more than enough,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°Good to hear, doctor,¡± I said.

    One of the nearby mechanical arms lifts Offset up, placing her on his table. He holds his hand up, and a different mechanical arm deposits a syringe in it. The syringe has a chunky blue mixture inside it. Kai jams it into her chest, fully injecting the contents into her.

    ¡°There, that¡¯ll stabilize her long enough for you to give the powers and me to run my tests,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°What was that strange concoction?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s another trade-off mixture similar to what I used on you. Except this one helps with blood clotting and infection. Considering how much burn damage and bleeding Vivienne caused, she¡¯ll need it,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°You said it was a trade-off, but what¡¯s the negative?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Oh, it causes terrible nightmares and periodic pulses of nerve pain,¡± Kai answered without looking up at me.

    What a disconnect for a doctor to have. Does he even see patients as people? I¡¯m tempted to give her Constrictor¡¯s power as well, but I settle for the two most immediate problems. Kai backs up while I transfer the powers over. Now we¡¯ll see what happens if I give a previous Neuvohuman two abilities.

    ¡°Done. How is our first guest doing?¡± I asked.

    ¡°She hasn¡¯t woken up yet, but she¡¯s in her cell now.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you with your patients. There won¡¯t be any new additions for the next few days, so feel free to tinker. The more you know about your ability, the better,¡± I said.

 Chapter 34 - Blackmail

    A week. It¡¯s been a week since I gave Isaiah his mission, and still nothing. I didn¡¯t think it would take this long, but that¡¯s probably an effect of how well things have gone for me so far. It doesn¡¯t even bother me now that I got rid of the anhedonia and aggression. Besides my hospitalization, this is the longest I¡¯ve ever gone without doing Cowl-related activities.

    I finish my workout, pause my music, and grab my phone to check if there¡¯s an update from Vivienne. This is what my routine has become: just exercise and wait for an update text. I can plan and scheme for the future, but without knowing if Isaiah has succeeded, I''m operating with incomplete information. A lot hinges on him getting the blackmail files from Curtis; it''s even more important for my plans than his power is.

    Nothing from her. Vivienne is meeting with her gang for the first drop off of the cocaine soon. Being cooped up with Maria isn¡¯t as bad now that I¡¯ve removed Punch¡¯s aggression. The thought of being trapped with her for the next four to six years of my education is an ever-tightening noose. Jean-Luc and Aubrey still aren''t talking, and I''ve been content to leave them be. Their cold war can continue until I¡¯ve graduated from Quinstin for all I care. But without the two of them, I spend nearly every waking moment with Maria.

    Now that the cat is out of the bag, Daniel and Maria have been constantly talking about Quinstin. Maria wants to bring her SUV to Quinstin instead of taking a Quickrail. My apartment complex does have parking, but I planned to take advantage of public transportation to get around. Quinstin has round-the-clock bussing, late-night trains, and several rideshare apps to get around everywhere. It will make it even easier to disappear into the city. Reinventing Eryk Blakey will be impossible with her there, but I can¡¯t find a way to rid myself of her without ruining my secret identity or compromising my position. She knows too much for me to dump her without her calling the cops. I don¡¯t have anyone I can trust to kill her. I can¡¯t keep putting this problem off. Sooner or later, I will need to come up with a solution to deal with her. A sudden vibration in my pocket alerts me to a text.

    (Vivienne): Hotpants is back. Got everything, including extra stuff. There was a problem.

    Explain? :(Eryk)

    (Vivienne): Dont wanna say over text. Can we meet?

    Swing by whenever. I¡¯m ready. :(Eryk)

    (Vivienne): kk be there soon.

    <hr>

    Maria is waiting for me when I get out of the shower. She¡¯s holding my phone in her hand.

    ¡°Hey, who is Hotpants? And who the hell is Vivienne?¡± Maria asked.

    She went through my phone. How did she figure out my passcode? I need to flip this on her.

    ¡°What are you doing with that? You went through my phone, Maria? How do you even know my passcode? What the fuck?¡± I said angrily.

    ¡°I¡¯m not the one sneaking around. You told me there wasn¡¯t another person. You told me you weren¡¯t cheating, and I believed you,¡± she said.

    Maria isn¡¯t crying; she just looks somewhere between furious and hurt. I don¡¯t recognize the look on her face. It¡¯s actually betrayal. That¡¯s the emotion she¡¯s expressing. I have my hands full with one girl I don¡¯t care about; why would I get another? Every day, I am reminded that romantic relationships are not worth the hassle.

    ¡°I¡¯m not cheating on you, and I am getting sick of you constantly accusing me of it. Maria, I have never even been with another woman. My heart beats for only you. Vivienne is a friend, and Hotpants is a nickname she has for someone we know,¡± I said.

    ¡°And why should I believe you? You already lied about Marcus and Davis,¡± she shot back.

    Wait, this could be exactly what I¡¯ve been wanting. If she implodes the relationship, then I should be safe. ¡°I¡¯m not doing this dance again. Either believe or don¡¯t. But if you are going to be constantly suspicious of me, then maybe we shouldn¡¯t be together.¡±

    ¡°Sorry if I don¡¯t immediately take what you tell me at face value, Eryk. You haven¡¯t exactly been a bastion of truth and honesty,¡± Maria said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t, just don¡¯t. I didn¡¯t lie to you; I kept something from you, and I thought we moved on from that,¡± I said.

    ¡°Once a liar, always a liar,¡± she said.

    ¡°I¡¯m going out. Don¡¯t text or call; I won¡¯t be answering. Please don¡¯t be here when I get back,¡± I said as I grabbed my bag with my mask and gun.

    I stomp down the stairs for added effect and slam my front door shut. Vivienne waves to me as I walk up to her car and get in.

    ¡°You okay, Nobody? You seem tense,¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°Just an argument with my girlfriend. Nothing I can¡¯t handle,¡± I said dismissively.

    ¡°Do you wanna talk about it? I¡¯m someone who routinely self-sabotages every romantic relationship I¡¯ve ever had, so my advice will suck, but I¡¯m pretty good at listening,¡± Vivienne said.

    She¡¯s so genuinely kind that it serves to reaffirm that she¡¯s the only person in my life who is worth effort or care.

    ¡°Thank you, Vivienne. I don¡¯t really want to talk about it, but I appreciate the offer,¡± I said.

    ¡°Well, the offer is still there if you change your mind,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°Okay. You said in your text that Isaiah had completed his task but that there was a problem. What kind of problem are we talking about?¡± I asked.

    ¡°So he got Curtis and all the blackmail files you wanted. Also, they are all paper, for some reason. But Curtis wasn¡¯t alone, so Isaiah was kind of forced to bring the person back, too. The guy is one of Curtis¡¯ victims,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°Depending on the person¡¯s identity, we may be able to use them. I don¡¯t want to commit to anything until I¡¯ve heard all the information,¡± I said.

    <hr>

    Isaiah is waiting for us in the front half of the base when we arrive. There are two men next to him, bound and with bags over their heads. The man wearing a tailored suit, dress shoes, and several pieces of jewelry is Curtis Drax, while the wiry, lanky man dressed more casually is the unexpected tagalong. Next to the three men is a black five-drawer file cabinet. There lies the prize.

    I march forward and place my hand against Curtis¡¯ exposed wrist, beginning to take his power. If he was awake, there was a chance he could use his ability against me. Would it even work, though? If his power actually creates a substance, then it should affect me, but if it¡¯s only simulating those feelings, I might be immune to it, similar to Anna Lee¡¯s power. It isn¡¯t something I¡¯m interested in testing, but I¡¯ll know the answer shortly.

    The five minutes finish, and the knowledge floods my brain. Curtis generates a chemical compound that gets absorbed into their bloodstream through their skin. It requires skin-to-skin even to start creating it. It¡¯s four times as addictive as nicotine, but beyond severe withdrawal symptoms, there are no long-term negative side effects at all. It doesn¡¯t kill brain cells or cause heart or brain problems. Curtis is immune to the effects of his power. The high is a full-body euphoric warmth with hallucinogenic visuals similar to mushrooms.

    It¡¯s no wonder he was able to use it to become so well-connected and secure. It¡¯s similar to my own in that it isn¡¯t a combat ability but is extremely effective for generating influence, wealth, and nonpersonal power. If I had been given his gift instead of my own, I don¡¯t know if I would have acted differently from him. Now, there is a potent ability locked up inside of me, along with the personality piece of impulsiveness. Is getting bad pieces related to me taking powers from bad people?

    ¡°Who¡¯s the stranger?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Gerald Mckinney Jr. He¡¯s the son of a very wealthy investment banker. Like they have fuck you money,¡± Isaiah answered.

    ¡°Okay, we¡¯ll ransom him back to his family. I want to check him for lingering effects of Curtis¡¯ power, so he needs to go for a checkup with Kai. Vivienne, if you don¡¯t mind, please bring him downstairs to Kai and leave him in front of the door. When you¡¯re done, come back up for a debrief in the conference room,¡± I said.

    ¡°Sure. What do you wanna do with this piece of shit?¡± Vivienne asked, kicking Curtis.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Leave him where he is; he won¡¯t be staying with us for long,¡± I said.

    ¡°I got those burner phones you asked me for. I even got a few extras just in case we add any more people,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Excellent. Bring the phones upstairs, and let¡¯s hear about your adventure,¡± I said.

    Isaiah follows behind me up the metal stairs, carrying the file cabinet easily. He looks taller, but that might be my eyes playing tricks on me. He¡¯s put on more muscle mass, at the very least. He¡¯s taking full advantage of the power I gave him. Good.

    Isaiah places the cabinet down next to my chair and then takes his seat. I¡¯m above average height, but Isaiah makes me look small. The first person whom the phrase mountain of a man accurately describes.

    ¡°How do you feel the mission went?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Besides the tagalong? I¡¯d say it was a complete success,¡± he replied.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you kill him?¡± I asked. Isaiah doesn¡¯t seem like the sentimental type, so there must be a reason why he brought Gerald Jr here.

    He pauses to mull over the question. ¡°Killing him brought no benefit to us. It would add unnecessary steps; getting rid of the body but making sure it wasn¡¯t linked to what happened. That meant he had to be taken alive. That leaves with two options. I figured either you could use him for your experiment or you¡¯d find another use for him.¡±

    Vivienne is right about how dangerous he is. Resourceful, intelligent, attractive, and motivated. A man with no moral compass or lines he won¡¯t cross. He¡¯s a soldier with the mind of a general.

    ¡°We could indeed use him as a test subject, but I believe his familial ties will prove much more useful. I dislike repeating myself, so let¡¯s wait for V,¡± I said.

    We don¡¯t wait long before Vivienne enters the room.

    ¡°Hello, gentlemen. I dropped off those two with the doc. Did Hotpants already do his tell-all? I hope I didn¡¯t miss any juicy details.¡±

    ¡°Ah, you just missed it. You¡¯ll have to wait for my memoir, titled ¡®The Struggles Of A Gorgeous God Shackled To A Frumpy Redhead.¡¯ Don¡¯t worry, though. I¡¯ll send you a signed copy. You are, after all, my muse,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Fuck you,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°Quiet,¡± I said, interrupting their banter. ¡°Isaiah, continue.¡±

    ¡°It took me a bit to scope out the place before I made my plan. I did as we discussed and made it look personal. I tore up his mansion, broke things, and started a few fires. I killed Curtis¡¯ men with a variety of guns and made the shots sloppy, so it looked like a group of untrained people. Forensics and evidence will lead investigators to assume a group of six assaulted the compound,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Nothing to tie it back to us or you? When we enter Quinstin, I¡¯d prefer for our organization to be invisible and thus underestimated,¡± I said.

    ¡°Absolutely nothing. Isaiah Jules disappeared sixteen years ago at the age of fifteen. I¡¯m assumed dead, and I like it that way. I was never arrested, so my DNA isn¡¯t in any database. I¡¯m basically a ghost,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Good. Isaiah, you and I are going to take care of Curtis later on. Before that, we all need to go through these files. Sort them into useful or useless for our cause. The major thing I¡¯m looking for is dirt on politicians and for any lawyers that Curtis may have blackmailed,¡± I said.

    ¡°Why just politicians and lawyers? Vivienne asked.

    ¡°Political favors are worth more than diamonds and the key to gaining pardons if needed. Our journey to legitimacy requires a lawyer or two. Contracts and filing the necessary paperwork are how our organization will become a company. And when we¡¯re big enough and important enough, it won¡¯t even matter what crimes we may have committed or will commit. The Heroes¡¯ Union may be some infallible symbol of honest justice, but the BNA is under the control of the U.N., and the United Nations is powered by bureaucracy. And bureaucracy is nothing more than a product that can be bought and sold,¡± I said.

    The two of them stare at me. I didn¡¯t say anything odd, did I? Have I changed without my noticing? Isaiah laughs, and Vivienne follows right with him.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Sorry, you just sounded like a supervillain from a movie,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°If Nobody is a supervillain, then that makes me his loyal lieutenant,¡± Vivienne joked, holding her finger under her nose like a mustache. ¡°You, Goon number two, I demand tribute in the form of gold bricks and beautiful women,¡± she said, pointing at Isaiah.

    ¡°Goon number two? Why the fuck am I below Kai?¡± Isaiah asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s pretty obvious that I¡¯m significantly above the title of goon, and Kai doesn¡¯t backtalk me, so he gets to be first. And with you being our least valuable member, that leaves you as the bottom bitch,¡± she replied.

    ¡°Okay. No, that makes sense. Just a few notes, though. Least valuable? I piss excellence and work as hard as I fuck. And I fuck hard. You¡¯re less of a lieutenant; you¡¯re more like comic relief,¡± Isaiah snapped back.

    ¡°Yes, both of your metaphorical dicks are quite large. Let¡¯s save the jokes for after the meeting,¡± I interrupted.

    Clearly, the theatrics got the better of me. I¡¯m aiming for inspirational, not maniacal. It¡¯s unfortunate that I still derive nothing from the witty exchanges and friendly but pointed barbs. I need more pieces and more lambs to devour, then, maybe I¡¯ll get a sense of humor at some point. I care about Vivienne, and Isaiah and I share a similar mindset. In time, Isaiah could become someone for whom I have affection. All of that is in the future. Right now, in the present, I have research to do.

    ¡°The cabinet is locked. Do you have the key, Isaiah?¡± I asked.

    Isaiah walks over to the cabinet, holds it down with one hand, and rips it open with the other. Each drawer is filled with green folders earmarked with a name. Some folders are filled to the point of bursting, and others have only a single piece of paper. I get the idea, in principle, of having only physical copies of your blackmail. A filing cabinet can¡¯t be hacked. It¡¯s pitiful how Curtis Drax¡¯s scheming, blackmailing, and all other criminal activities amount to nothing more than a single piece of office furniture. I refuse to fade away without leaving a mark, a lasting impression. Each of us takes a stack of folders, and we get to work going through them.

    Curtis Drax was a nobody¡ªa slimy worm masquerading as a snake until a basilisk swallowed him. His cabinet, though, is a work of art. Perfectly organized, each file says what he has on a person, how he got it, what the blackmail gets him, and a record of whether he¡¯s extorted them. Treating people like transactions, reducing them to nothing more than numbers, is something I do.

    The first folder is small, a hit-and-run from the mayor of some podunk town. Nope. The next is a congressman¡¯s adultery. Nope, affairs aren¡¯t enough to get someone to be complicit in what we¡¯ll do. A police chief taking bribes in Breeton is closer to what I¡¯m looking for, but still not enough. I need the juicier stuff, the murders, and worse offenses. I continue to leaf through documents, quickly scanning their contents and then going to the next. It¡¯s well over an hour before I find the first file that interests me.

    Claire Rothsford, the mayor of Quinstin¡¯s daughter, tried to take her own life. Interesting. Her father hushed it all up due to shame. Gerald Rothsford is a moderate progressive focused on targeting the issues that create crime, like food scarcity, affordable housing, and proper mental health resources. This paints a different picture. People think he¡¯s aiming for a higher office, and this could derail that. His daughter is going to the same university as me; I can use this, not now, but once we¡¯re in Quinstin. Vivienne interrupts my musings to say she found a possible lawyer.

    ¡°Unless I''m missing something major, I think I found our guy, Nobody. Nicholas Holmes. He recently became a junior partner at his firm, but he has some vices he''s keeping secret: prostitutes, coke, pills, and gambling. The lawyer guy doesn¡¯t even know about Curtis, so we can still use this,¡± Vivienne said, handing the file over to Isaiah.

    ¡°She''s right. This guy is perfect. We can buy out his debt from his bookie, and we could use V¡¯s gang to take care of his pharmaceutical needs,¡± Isaiah said, sliding the file to me.

    I flip through Nicholas Holmes¡¯ file. He works at Dacross and Moonie as their youngest-ever junior partner, excels in contract work for companies, and is single. He lives alone in a penthouse loft in Quinstin. Nicholas seems like a notoriously hard worker who''s one of the first to come in and the last to leave. He does seem to be precisely what I''ve been looking for.

    ¡°Alright. Isaiah, you and I are going to handle Curtis while Vivienne handles her drop-off. After that, the three of us are going to pay a visit to Mr. Holmes. We¡¯re going to keep Gerald Jr here until Kai says there aren¡¯t any lingering effects from Curtis. Then we¡¯ll return him to his family in exchange for a favor. Any questions?¡± I said.

    Neither of them says anything, and Vivienne exits, leaving Isaiah and me alone again.

    ¡°I trust you, Nobody, so don¡¯t tell me if you don¡¯t want to, but I¡¯m curious. What is your plan for Curtis?¡± Isaiah asked.

    Is there a problem with telling him the truth? Is he loyal enough to stick by me when he finds out what I have planned? There shouldn¡¯t be any harm in telling him the actual plan.

    ¡°There have been no reports about my vigilante. So we¡¯re going to give them another body to show them that the previous body wasn¡¯t a one-off. That they¡¯re dealing with a serial killer,¡± I answered.

    ¡°What¡¯s the end goal of doing all of this?¡± Isaiah asked.

    ¡°Vivienne and I hunted down a woman in Fairboro who had been using her Neuvohuman ability to get away with hurting children for years. Her ability made it impossible for any conviction to stick as it was a passive, unavoidable power. I killed her and wrote a message in her blood with her hand. People like her, like Curtis, are a blight that avoids capture. I¡¯m using them and other Neuvohumans like them to stoke the fires of tensions between Neuvohumans and regular people,¡± I said.

    ¡°And this regular person is your serial killer vigilante, obviously.¡±

    ¡°For now, that person is us. That is until I find or craft a regular person into a symbol to show that not having powers doesn¡¯t make them powerless. I¡¯m aiming for a war, Isaiah, an utterly violent, destructive battle across our country. All of this will cause a spike in trigger events, giving me more powers to take and redistribute where I see fit. I will control who gets powers and who doesn¡¯t. This will put me in a position of unparalleled power. My end goal is to be remembered forever.¡±

    Isaiah looks at me, eyes sharp as he digests my words. Have I misjudged his loyalty? If he decides to kill me, there¡¯s nothing I can do to stop him. What I¡¯m planning will be considered an atrocity. Isaiah may be a Cowl, but some would argue he has a responsibility to the world to stop me here and now. He smiles genuinely and nods his head.

    ¡°You¡¯re really living up to the supervillain image. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not like Vivienne; I won¡¯t shy away from the bloodshed and all the fucked up shit,¡± he said.

    ¡°Do not do that. Do not disparage her to make yourself look better. Vivienne is strong, capable, and trustworthy. And I will never have to doubt her loyalty.¡±

    I¡¯m leaving the obvious comparison about Isaiah¡¯s loyalty unspoken. I will not have infighting or backstabbing amongst our group. It''s better to nip this in the bud now and make sure he understands what I think of his blatant politicking. A reprimand that causes my roots to further dig into him. The personality piece makes him inherently loyal to me, but further manipulation doesn¡¯t hurt. This should make him even more eager to prove his loyalty.

    ¡°You two are two sides of a coin. You both operate in different circles. I don¡¯t want cookie-cutter people by my side. What we need is specialists who excel at their jobs. And just because you¡¯re the one I send to do the messy work doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re less or more important than anyone else here. Don¡¯t underestimate her; it would be a mistake on your part. The two of you seem to get along well and will continue to as long as you don¡¯t break her one rule,¡± I said.

    He takes the lecture well, nodding after I finish. ¡°I understand. And I¡¯m fine being your man in the shad; I do my best work in the dark.¡± Isaiah grinned.

    ¡°Good, let''s go grab Mr. Drax and get the ball rolling,¡± I said.

    We exit the base, with Isaiah carrying the bound Curtis over his shoulders. Isaiah drives a maroon Mustang complete with tinted windows and a singular black stripe down the middle of the hood. He stuffs Curtis into the trunk, and I get in on the passenger side. It¡¯s late enough that nobody should notice my helmet.

    ¡°Where are we going?¡± Isaiah asked.

    ¡°Somewhere public, somewhere that will attract attention. I¡¯ve checked press statements and police conferences and no one has mentioned the message I left at the scene of the murder. She was reported dead, but none of her crimes were exposed. My guess is that someone is keeping it under wraps, either police or local government. There was plenty of evidence of her crimes in her house, and they¡¯re most likely hiding it so that they aren¡¯t held accountable for their incompetence. Wherever we drop Mr. Drax has to be somewhere that cannot be ignored or brushed under the rug,¡± I said.

    ¡°What about the Bringsley Mall in Shrewster? Second largest city in the state, with plenty of Cape and Cowl presence, and the police aren¡¯t as corrupt as they are in Crimton. We could break into the mall and kill him there, leaving his body to be discovered by either shoppers, employees or guards come morning. It¡¯s also far enough away from both here and Fairboro that it¡¯ll help confuse authorities even more. We could be there in an hour and some change,¡± Isaiah said.

    I pause to mull over his suggestion. It¡¯s an excellent plan, but he isn¡¯t Vivienne. He does not need constant praise. Nobody should never seem too eager. As the leader of this operation, I need to appear thoughtful and deliberate.

    ¡°That should work fine for what we need. Are you armed in case we run into any problems?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m strapped and always ready for war. I am prepared in case shit pops off,¡± Isaiah said as we started driving.

 Chapter 35 - Evil Startup

    My phone says it¡¯s five past eleven, so the mall has been closed for hours, but Shrewster is still awake and loud. Horns beeping, people talking as they walk to and from bars, and general city noises fill the night. Isaiah parks on the second floor of the garage, where there are only a few vehicles parked. Those cars either belong to mall security, or they¡¯re just abandoned. We have to be stealthy because we can¡¯t kill anyone here except for Curtis, or the message of the vigilante will be watered down. There can be no civilian casualties. They¡¯re meant to be a warrior of justice, not a terrorist. Isaiah grabs a duffel bag from the back, and I place my gun within the waistband of my pants.

    I¡¯m wearing my usual attire and tonight, Isaiah matches me. He has a black bandana and a hoodie pulled up over his bald head. I follow the giant as he leads me over to a nondescript metal door without any kind of handle or marking. It¡¯s used for deliveries and for mall staff to avoid walking through the mall''s crowded public floors. So this is how we¡¯ll be getting inside undetected. Isaiah steps forward, pivots, and delivers a rear horse kick that crumples the door in on itself. His kick echoes within the parking garage but doesn¡¯t extend beyond.

    Isaiah grabs our guest from the trunk and drags him back over to me. We step through into the back corridors of the mall. The walls are unfinished plasterboard and plywood with bits of graffiti on them. The cement floors are dusty. There are cigarette butts and trash every couple of feet. The automatic lights brighten up the passage, and I take the lead to search for a way onto the mall floor. We walk through the winding turns, passing the backdoors of several stores. Curtis is beginning to stir as we stop in front of a double door with a push bar. That is what we¡¯ve been looking for.

    ¡°Put him against the wall. I¡¯d like to talk to him,¡± I said.

    Isaiah drops Curtis against the wall, and he slumps down onto the floor. I grab the bag off of his head and take a look at the man we¡¯re about to kill. Curtis Drax has a strongly angular face, and not in a flattering way. A face that¡¯s a tad too sharp to be handsome. A well-trimmed mustache sits above his lip, but it doesn¡¯t take away from the overall grimy vibe he gives off. Some people are incapable of masking. I make it a point to be aware of how I appear in order to disguise the cold indifference I hold. Just like Anna Lee, Curtis is a bully who preys on the weak, too scared to make any real ripples. I smack him across the face with the back of my hand. Don¡¯t forget your audience, Eryk; this is a performance.

    ¡°What the fuck? Where am I?¡± Curtis groaned as his eyes adjusted to the light.

    ¡°Three things need to be made clear right now: your power is gone, you are at my mercy, and there is no possible chance of escape,¡± I stated, holding three fingers in front of his face.

    He flinches at my helmet¡¯s voice. The voice changer that Aubrey made me matches my tone and emotion, so if I don¡¯t put any in, then all you¡¯ll hear is an assorted choir of bored and stoic voices. To Curtis¡¯ credit, he quickly accepts his situation.

    ¡°Okay, and who do I have the pleasure of dealing with?¡± He said, flashing a smile.

    ¡°I¡¯m Nobody, and you¡¯ve already met my man here. He¡¯s the one who plucked you from your safe little nest and delivered you to me,¡± I answered.

    ¡°And what do you gentlemen want from me? Is it money? People? Or is this revenge?¡± Curtis questioned.

    He seems bored. What is it about psychopaths that makes them unable to grasp when they do not have the upper hand? I crouch down and punch Curtis as hard as I can in the center of his face, hearing the snap and crunch of his nose. Before he can register what just happened, I deliver a slap to his ear that jerks his head to the side. Violence has quite a sobering effect on people¡¯s attitudes. Blood is swiftly leaking down his face, but his eyes have a hint of fear and clarity in them that they were previously lacking. Recognizing threats is one of humanity¡¯s greatest strengths.

    ¡°None of the above. Trust me when I tell you that you have absolutely nothing you could ever offer me that would interest me. We¡¯re here for a little side project of mine,¡± I answered truthfully.

    ¡°Alright, and how can I help with that? Wait, what kind of side project?¡± He asked fearfully.

    ¡°The kind where I have him beat you into a puddle, a still breathing one, don¡¯t worry, and then kill you in a public place in order to cause hysteria about a boogieman that I manufactured. Isaiah, break him, and do it quickly,¡± I said, stepping out of his way.

    It¡¯s like an uncomfortable itch, the urge to speak honestly. Curtis sputters out a few words in the brief seconds before Isaiah crushes his left shoulder. Curtis wails in agony as Isaiah lifts him into the air by his jaw and squeezes. The noise of his jaw being dislocated and then snapped is muted compared to a nose breaking. Is it due to the jaw being sealed within skin and muscle while the nose is exposed to air? I learn a lot about the art of brutality from those I surround myself with. Isaiah is holding back, controlling his superhuman strength so as not to murder Curtis accidentally. The pain reduces Curtis to a mumbling, crying mess. None of that stops Isaiah from striking and snapping and bruising every piece of him. By the time he¡¯s done, it looks personal, and that will only add to the flavor of the vigilante. I check his pulse, and fortunately, he is still alive, if not gravely injured.

    I open the double door and step out onto the second floor of the mall. I listen for any sounds of alarms but hear nothing, and it makes sense; you wouldn¡¯t want mall security setting everything off just by doing their rounds. The overhead lights are dimmed, and all the shops are dark, giving everything a haunting atmosphere. The carpeted grounds of the second floor muffle our steps as we walk toward the nearest escalator, with Isaiah dragging Curtis''s limp body along the ground.

    My body is tight with tension. This isn''t a life-or-death battle, but the stakes are just as high. I¡¯m risking discovery and exposure, as well as ruining my vigilante plan by being here. But I¡¯m still here doing it, getting my own hands dirty. Building my legacy and company is good, but it doesn¡¯t really compare to being down in the mud. It could be that I¡¯ve gained an ego thanks to the multiple emotions or that I¡¯m getting overconfident due to success. We don¡¯t hear a peep or see a single guard on our way down to the first floor.

    One of the map kiosks we pass shows a large fountain area in the center of the mall. That¡¯s the perfect spot for where Curtis Drax will meet his end. The power is off, so we use the escalator as stairs. Several tables with chairs for lounging are spread out around the fountain. A wide rim of stone outlines the structure for people to sit on as benches. Cherubs and various birds made of granite spray water to keep the water levels even and moving. There must be thousands of pennies sitting at the bottom of it. I assume no one is desperate enough to bother stealing the change and getting soaked.

    ¡°Drop him near the edge of the fountain, and do you have a knife or something similar?¡± I asked.

    Isaiah rummages through his bag and pulls out a box cutter. ¡°This is the best I got.¡±

    I push the blade in and out, testing the mechanism. This¡¯ll do. Curtis¡¯ labored breathing is the only sound in the deserted area. The box cutter effortlessly pierces his palms, and he lets out a pained moan. The cuts are clean and deep, blood rushing to the surface of his skin. I squeeze his hands, dripping the blood into a growing pool on the tiled floor. I wait until there¡¯s enough of the red liquid to write with. Just like with Anna Lee, I grab his hand in mine and use his index and middle fingers to write ¡°The Law Falters, Justice Does Not.¡±

    I look over at Curtis¡¯ pathetic form, mangled and slumped on the ground. I should make this more theatrical for whoever finds this. He¡¯s in rough shape, but he hasn¡¯t expired yet. I wave Isaiah over and have him put one of the chairs inside the fountain. He moves Curtis onto the chair and uses a few zip ties to make sure he won¡¯t fall off. His arms hang loosely at his sides, dripping blood into the waters below him. I pull my pistol out from behind my waist and shoot Curtis in the chest four times. By morning, the water will be pink as the fountain spreads his blood.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    We make it back to the car without seeing another person or any complications. I have to stop myself from transforming my helmet instinctively. I¡¯m so used to decompressing with Vivienne and removing my mask after a night of Cowl-related activities. But that is a one-of-a-kind relationship, and no one else can know what I look like. I lean back in the seat and let out a sigh. The helmet¡¯s microphone has a filter, so Isaiah can¡¯t hear my unprofessional noises. I¡¯d like nothing more than to sit silently for the rest of the ride, but I¡¯m in charge, and I can¡¯t waste an opportunity to bind him even closer.

    ¡°We will not know what reaction our display will have until tomorrow. They can not possibly hush this, especially if it isn¡¯t discovered until morning. We might get lucky, and some shopper films and uploads videos of the body. Once it¡¯s there, we¡¯re in business, and it won¡¯t trigger the auto delete that the BNA has on Neuvohuman-related things.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll make quite a splash on the morning news. That mutilated gargoyle is gonna cause some waves,¡± Isaiah said, smirking at me.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°Are you making puns right now?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a professional when I¡¯m on the job, but the job is over. A little bit of dark humor never hurt anyone,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°I suppose. Vivienne should be back already, so we¡¯re going to have a long night ahead of us. Quinstin is a two-and-a-half-hour ride from the warehouse. We will not be back until tomorrow morning at the earliest. We need to be invisible while we¡¯re there. We are not prepared to take on the major powers of Quinstin, not yet anyway,¡± I said.

    ¡°I know I¡¯m not Vivienne, and I¡¯m new to my ability, but I¡¯m confident in handling anybody in Quinstin, Nobody.¡±

    ¡°Confident? You sound cocky to me, and cockiness will get you killed. My plans don¡¯t require you to be able to handle anybody; they require you to be able to handle everybody. With careful planning, a BNA strike team should not stop you,¡± I said.

    ¡°You seem to hold me in high esteem; I¡¯m flattered. I won¡¯t betray your confidence by fucking anything up. Why, this reminds me of the first time my mama told me she was proud of me,¡± Isaiah said with an exaggerated drawl.

    He¡¯s getting more comfortable around me, which is good news for my little band of miscreants. I need to set time aside to have another one-on-one with Kai. Binding him will be trickier. He¡¯s already gotten the thing he¡¯s always dreamed of, so I have to find some other way to manipulate him.

    ¡°A thank you would have sufficed,¡± I said.

    ¡°But then you¡¯d miss out on all my clever jokes and hilarious wordplay. I would never deprive you of that,¡± Isaiah laughed.

    ¡°Yes, what a loss that would be. Moving on. There is a local group of unhoused transients milling around near the warehouse. Round them up and deliver them to the doctor in the next couple of days,¡± I said.

    ¡°Do you need them in any particular shape?¡± He asked me.

    And in an instant, the switch is flipped, and he¡¯s all business. Is it all an act? Is Isaiah Jules a mask the way Eryk Blakely is?

    ¡°Keep them relatively unharmed so that the doctor does not have to waste time or effort on repairing them,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Don¡¯t break the toys, got it,¡± Isaiah said.

    I ignore him as we pull onto the highway toward Crimton. As long as there are no setbacks, we should arrive in Quinstin at slightly past one in the morning. Then we ambush Nicholas, and I get a lawyer.

    <hr>

    Why isn¡¯t Vivienne¡¯s car here? It was just a simple drop-off and exchange of cash. I take out the phone Isaiah gave me and look through the contacts to see Kai, Isaiah, and Vivienne¡¯s names listed. She has a different number from the one I have on my actual phone, so this must be her burner cell. He got burner phones for everybody. It¡¯s smart to keep our civilian and Cowl lives completely separate. I text her and ask if she¡¯s done yet. Make the question vague, don¡¯t use names, and never directly allude to criminal activities. That way, if the phone is lost or seized, police won¡¯t be able to use it to prove anything. After five minutes with no response, Isaiah and I head inside. As we walk through the door, I hear Kai¡¯s voice over the warehouse speaker.

    ¡°Nobody, you have a catty visitor in the conference room. Be careful, though. The kitty has claws and is a tad cranky.¡±

    ¡°Where is Vivienne? Has she not come back yet?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Nope,¡± Kai said with a note of boredom to his tone.

    ¡°Let me know if she arrives.¡±

    ¡°Am I required to join the meeting with the kitty? I¡¯m deathly allergic to pussy,¡± Kai giggled.

    Isaiah releases a snort that quickly shifts into booming laughter. He continues chuckling while we walk up the stairs to the second floor. I don¡¯t bother answering the doctor¡¯s question. He already knows the answer. Rorschach is sitting at the head of the conference table, waiting for us, wearing another exquisitely expensive and fashionable dress. It¡¯s a black sleeveless dress that shows off plenty of skin. There¡¯s a deep V shape on the front showing off her sternum tattoos. The dress has an opening on each side around her hips, and it has a slit on the side, showing off her entire left leg. A gold jewelry piece covers her neck and parts of her shoulders, with additional chains hanging over her chest. A matching thigh piece and gold-heeled stilettos finish off her high-fashion look. She¡¯s drumming her manicured nails against the surface of the table with a bored expression on her face. And she¡¯s purposely sitting in my chair. I¡¯m not in the mood for pissing contests and power plays.

    ¡°You are in my seat. I will give you the benefit of the doubt and assume it was a mistake¡ªa mistake that you will not repeat,¡± I said.

    ¡°Mhmm, and what happens if I do repeat my mistake?¡± She asked coyly.

    ¡°Cut the cute shit, Rorschach. Either engage in good faith or fuck off,¡± Isaiah said.

    Isaiah¡¯s tone conveys something I don¡¯t recognize, but it causes Rorschach to move out of my seat. She takes the chair a few down from my left, and Isaiah sits opposite her on my right. If we cannot get her to join, she will not be leaving here. Her power is potent, and while I¡¯d rather not have to train up a replacement, I will if forced. It¡¯s poetic; the last time we sat at a table, my life was on the line, and now it¡¯s hers.

    ¡°Rorschach, can I assume that you being here means you are open to working for me?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Working with you, but yes, that¡¯s why I came,¡± she answered.

    ¡°No. You will be working for me. This is not a collective like your previous group. We have a clear hierarchy here, and that¡¯s me at the top and everyone else underneath. I am in charge, and while your opinion will have weight, this is not a democracy. If that is not something you can stomach, then there is no point in continuing,¡± I said.

    Her lip twitches, and she quickly smiles to disguise the anger she¡¯s feeling. She will need to reign in that nasty temper of hers if she joins me.

    ¡°That isn¡¯t a dealbreaker. Before your next question, can I ask Scaly a question?¡±

    Isaiah subtly looks to me for approval, and I nod.

    ¡°I know we weren¡¯t friends, but I trust your opinion as a fellow professional. What makes people like you and that V woman follow him?¡± Rorschach asked.

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t ask you to give more than you have or to do things you aren¡¯t willing to do. He only needs you to do what you¡¯re best at. Also, he¡¯s going to make us filthy fucking rich,¡± Isaiah answered.

    ¡°Alright then, let¡¯s get this job interview started. Do you want to know my biggest strengths or a time I overcame adversity?¡± Rorschach joked.

    ¡°What are the hard lines you will not cross? If I wanted you to smuggle drugs into a party or drug a politician, would you? Are you willing to spy on people for days, maybe months, destroying any sense of privacy?¡± I pause before my last question. ¡°If I asked you to kill someone the way you murdered Santiago Skull, would you?¡±

    She stops smiling and bites the inside of her cheek. Her face loses the haughty look and becomes shameful. Is this shame at having lost control? Is it because she killed a man in cold blood? What are you thinking right now, Rorschach?

    ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± she mumbled softly.

    The venomous, sharp-tongued woman is now so blunted. She¡¯s in the perfect state to be receptive to manipulation.

    ¡°Speak up. I asked three questions and only received one answer. Unless your answer applies to all of them,¡± I said.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a drug mule, but if you need me to put a party to sleep, I could. I¡¯m not willing to poison someone to death; I¡¯m not willing to kill anyone. Spying isn¡¯t a problem for me either,¡± Rorschach said, her voice back to its normal volume.

    ¡°I understand, and I will never ask you to do something you wouldn¡¯t do voluntarily. Let me be frank, Rorschach; I do not need more muscle. You¡¯ve seen that I have more than enough. What I would have you do is what you¡¯ve done before. Reconnaissance is something we currently sorely lack. I could have the doctor build drones to accomplish this, but I would still need someone to watch the video feeds. From what I have heard about your ability, you would be even more effective. I might require you to spy on civilians, politicians, Capes, Cowls, and the BNA.¡±

    ¡°What you¡¯ve heard is correct. I¡¯m probably the single best Nevuohuman for info gathering. As long as I¡¯m getting paid well and on time, I can be your eyes and ears. I have expensive tastes and a severe lack of income currently,¡± Rorschach laughed. ¡°Can I ask you a few questions, Nobody?¡±

    ¡°Of course. Unless it pertains to my identity, I am willing to discuss anything you would like,¡± I answered. I can¡¯t risk her asking a question and Offset¡¯s honesty causing me to blurt out something sensitive.

    ¡°What kind of job would we be doing that would need me to spy on the BNA and politicians?¡±

    ¡°This is not a one-off job, and we are not a gang. I aim to create a multifaceted company that will become too big to fail¡ªnot a front for our criminal activities but a genuine legal company on the books. This will no doubt create a lot of enemies, and I can¡¯t send Isaiah and V to beat up a company. We will have to politick, scheme, and out-maneuver to crush our adversaries,¡± I said.

    ¡°That sounds fucking impossible,¡± she said.

    ¡°No, my goal is very much doable, and I am well suited to make it a reality. We will grow our company in Quinstin until we¡¯re big enough to own the city,¡± I said.

    ¡°You ever think your eyes are bigger than your stomach?¡±

    ¡°No. Why would I settle for a piece of the pie when I can buy the bakery that makes it?¡±

    ¡°Okay, fuck yeah. My other question is, what kind of payment system are we going to be using?¡± Rorschach asked.

    ¡°If you decide to join, you will receive a salary, healthcare, insurance, a retirement fund, and equity in this company. All with clean money,¡± I said.

    ¡°Woah, this feels way fuckin¡¯ bigger than I thought when I showed up tonight. All those things sound good, but what the fuck is the point?¡± Rorschach asked.

    Her skepticism, while unwelcome, is not unwarranted.

    ¡°The point is to hide in plain sight, to be able to show a normal civilian life when questioned by police and to make large purchases without needing a duffel bag of cash. The point is to contribute so much to the city that even if our crimes are revealed, they can¡¯t do anything to us. It is about stability and security in a career that normally ends in death or imprisonment. I¡¯m talking about creating something that could survive the death of all of us. Look around you, Rorschach. I did all of this in a little over a month; imagine what I can do with a year?¡± I asked.

    Her eyes go wide with surprise. ¡°Is that true?¡± Rorschach asked Isaiah.

    ¡°Yeah, the boss is a real go-getter. It has certainly been an eventful few weeks,¡± Isaiah answered.

    ¡°It sounds like fuckin¡¯ bullshit, but if it¡¯s true, then I¡¯d be a dumbass not to hop on the wave. Let¡¯s say I¡¯m interested. What kind of salary are we talking about?¡± Rorschach asked.

    ¡°Currently? Nothing. None of us are making any money from this yet. We have cash, but it¡¯s dirty, and the rest of our funds are tied up in a product that is in the process of being liquidated. I have a plan in the works to create capital, but it will take a couple of weeks before it manifests. If you cannot wait for our operation to be profitable, I will get you cash, but you will have a smaller equity and salary,¡± I said.

    ¡°This feels like a test to see if I value long-term gains over an immediate windfall. Well, I¡¯d be a shortsighted bitch if I asked for the cash. Okay, Nobody, I¡¯ll join your evil startup,¡± she said.

    ¡°Excellent, and welcome aboard. Isaiah and I have a meeting with a lawyer tonight in Quinstin. Originally, Vivienne was going to accompany us, but since she isn¡¯t here, you will join us instead. It will give me a chance to see how you do on the job. I may need you to help intimidate a few people, but you are being brought along for recon,¡± I said.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to wait for V?¡± Isaiah asked.

    ¡°We are short on time as is. She can handle anything that¡¯s thrown at her. I¡¯ll grab Mr. Holmes¡¯ file, and then we¡¯ll leave,¡± I said, getting up from my seat.

    ¡°Wow, straight into field work. I have a tank of ink in my car. Can you help me get it, Isaiah?¡± Rorschach asked.

    ¡°Nothing would make me happier, milady,¡± Isaiah said with a sweeping bow.

    ¡°God, you are fucking insufferable,¡± Rorschach said.

    Isaiah follows Rorschach out of the conference room, and I head to my office. Nick¡¯s file isn¡¯t the most robust, but it should say who owns his debt. We will either buy it out or eradicate everyone involved. I¡¯ll read it on the way to Quinstin.

 Chapter 36 - Robbing A Staples

    The ride to Quinstin goes smoothly. Rorschach and Isaiah quickly fall into a familiar rhythm of joking and making digs at each other. I leave them to that and spend the ride reading over the file I brought with me. Nicholas¡¯ debt belongs to the O¡¯Rourkes, an Irish crime family that focuses on gambling, loans, and pitfighting. Vivienne is going to be disappointed she missed tonight. Unfortunately, Curtis¡¯ file doesn¡¯t have any other information on the family. It doesn¡¯t matter much. They weren¡¯t part of any of the research I did into any of the real powerhouses in Quinstin.

    Isaiah pulls into a gas station parking lot, and both of my minions get out and go inside. We¡¯re in the suburbs that surround Quinstin but not yet in the city proper. At this time of night, there are no other cars here. From the backseat, I can see the Quinstin skyline lit up¡ªlarge skyscrapers grouped in clusters. The city is set up in a bit of an odd way. Like the layers of a jawbreaker, but with the cost of living going up, the deeper you get toward the center. Both the BNA base and the Heroes¡¯ Union headquarters are also located near the center of the city. We¡¯re going to have to be very careful tonight. There¡¯s bound to be Capes on patrol.

    The realization of where we are is beginning to set in, and I¡¯m shocked at how seemingly reckless this plan is. Am I making a mistake? Am I being influenced by these foreign pieces inside of me? We need a lawyer, and Nicholas Holmes is the perfect candidate, so going after him is a necessity. But only bringing Isaiah and a noncombatant to a city full of people who would kill or capture me if they learned of my power is risky. No, I¡¯ve accomplished much more with a lot less. This plan is sound, and I can¡¯t fail. All we have to do is focus on the goal and the steps necessary to extract it. If we run into opposition, I¡¯ll crush it like I always do.

    By the time Isaiah and Rorschach emerge from the gas station, I¡¯ve centered myself. Both of them have drinks and snacks in hand. Did they ask me if I wanted anything?  If they did I didn¡¯t even hear them while I was circling the thought drain. To my right is the bag of stolen money from the bank. We¡¯ll use that to pay off Nicholas¡¯ debts. Instead of thinking of it as a loss, I¡¯m considering it an investment in my lawyer. With Vivienne securing funding through the gang, this is just a minor setback. Avoiding a fight is paramount to getting in and out of Quinstin without attracting attention.

    ¡°Hey, Nobody, we didn¡¯t grab you anything because your helmet doesn¡¯t seem to have a mouth hole or a straw attachment,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Do not worry about it. I¡¯m not hungry at the moment,¡± I said.

    ¡°Well, now that the snack situation has been handled, where are we meeting this lawyer of yours?¡± Rorschach asked.

    ¡°Before we meet with him, we need to take care of something. Rorschach, what are the parameters and limits of your ability?¡±

    ¡°Two hundred and fifty is the most I can do while still being able to process the information from all of them. As far as I can tell there isn¡¯t really a limit on the size of my creations. I can¡¯t change the size of a creature, either; If I make a bird, it needs to be bird-sized. With the amount of ink I brought, the best I could do would be butterflies. If you want birds, I¡¯m going to need a fuck ton more,¡± Rorschach answered me.

    ¡°Birds would be preferable. It is a bit of a needle in a haystack. I need you to track down a gang, but I do not know where they are. I can help narrow it down, but it would still require an extensive search by you,¡± I said.

    ¡°With what I brought, I can make twelve birds. Any more than that, and we¡¯ll need to rob a Staples. What exactly am I looking for?¡± Rorschach inquired.

    ¡°There is an Irish criminal family called the O¡¯Rourkes. They are small fries who mostly act as loan sharks. They also run pitfights in the basements of the bars they own. The problem is that I do not know which bars they own, and Quinstin has over two hundred bars that are considered Irish pubs,¡± I responded.

    ¡°You said that you could narrow it down, right?¡±

    ¡°Letting you know only to check Irish bars is me narrowing it down,¡± I said.

    ¡°Are you fucking shitting me?¡± Rorschach said angrily.

    ¡°Rorschach,¡± Isaiah warned.

    ¡°No. Over two hundred fucking bars? It would take me weeks to canvass the city with the full number of birds I can create, and that¡¯s if we don¡¯t bother to hide what we¡¯re doing from everyone. Unless I¡¯m mistaken, you really don¡¯t want anyone to know about you. Well, me sending a giant flock of ink birds all over the damn city is going to attract a ton of attention. That plan is fucking stupid, and I won¡¯t take part in a plan with a zero fucking percent chance of succeeding,¡± she said through gritted teeth.

    Isaiah whips a gun out, putting it in her face. ¡°Nobody isn¡¯t Veritas, so watch your mouth when you talk to him.¡±

    That is an overreaction that I need to correct quickly. ¡°Relax, Isaiah. She brings up valid points, and any of you are free to raise any concerns you may have. I will ask you to be a little more professional with your complaints. But your concern is noted, and we can reverse the order of tonight¡¯s adventure to allow us to work around both your low ink issue and my need for anonymity. I preferred to handle the O¡¯Rourkes before visiting the lawyer, but I do not mind doing it the other way,¡± I said.

    Isaiah puts his gun down and puts Nicholas¡¯ address into his car¡¯s GPS. Rorschach doesn¡¯t seem too upset by having a gun pointed at her. Did she not believe he would kill her, or is there some underlying factor I am unaware of? The ride to Nicholas¡¯ building is similar to the ride to Quinstin, with the two of them joking again and sharing snacks. Their relationship is baffling, and I do not understand it. It is unlike any relationship I have witnessed. The farther I get from New Farford, the more apparent it is how little I actually know about people and relationships.

    Nicholas¡¯ apartment building is in an expensive neighborhood, and Isaiah pulls into the garage. There is a security guard in a booth as we pull up. The ground has several holes from which large metal cylinders jut out. Each one is over five feet tall. The guard walks over to us, gun at his hip and whistling a tune.

    ¡°I trust the two of you to handle this,¡± I said from the back.

    Isaiah¡¯s Mustang has tinted windows, so the guard shouldn¡¯t see me. If he does and makes a move, he will die.

    ¡°Evening. May I ask the purpose of your visit?¡±

    How will you get us inside? Show me the cunning mastermind Vivienne thinks you are.

    ¡°Evening. I¡¯m actually here to visit a friend, Nick Holmes,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡° It¡¯s a little late for that, don''t you think? Would you like me to call up and let him know you¡¯re here?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s actually a bit of a surprise, me being here. The two of us haven¡¯t seen each other in a bit, so I brought him a gift,¡± Isaiah said naturally.

    Isaiah leans back, letting the guard see Rorschach. She bites her lip sensually while staring at the security guard.

    ¡°Ahhh, that kind of gift. I¡¯m sure Mr. Holmes would love that surprise. I know I wouldn¡¯t mind a turn. Head on in,¡± he said as the cylinders lowered into the ground.

    We drive around, passing luxury cars, while looking for the guest parking. Isaiah¡¯s vintage Mustang actually helps us blend in as we park behind a pillar that puts us in a blindspot of the cameras.

    ¡°I should castrate him for acting like I¡¯m the town whore that everyone ¡®gets a turn with.¡¯ And I should twist your dick off for insinuating I¡¯m a motherfucking prostitute,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°Listen, easy, I needed to get him to let us inside. I might be interested in taking you up on that offer, though,¡± he chuckled.

    ¡°Go fuck yourself.¡±

    ¡°So, what should I bring, Nobody,¡± Isaiah asked, ignoring her.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°I don¡¯t expect violence or resistance. We¡¯re aiming for slight intimidation, just enough to make him open to listening to my offer,¡± I said.

    ¡°Wait, does this lawyer we¡¯re meeting not know that we¡¯re coming?¡± Rorschach asked surprisedly.

    ¡°Correct. The man we are visiting has unfortunately caught the eye of a very bad man. Thankfully, Isaiah and I solved that problem for him. In fact, I believe he will be so grateful that he will jump at the idea of working for me,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Oh, I bet. Can¡¯t help but feel sorry for the guy; anyone who runs into you has their life trajectory altered forever. I can handle the cameras from here and send two birds with you. Once you get the address, I can send them over to get eyes on the place,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°Excellent. Show me what you can do.¡±

    Rorschach exits the car and opens the trunk to grab her ink. She pulls out a three-gallon jug of water that¡¯s full of ink and puts it on top of the trunk. I turn around in my seat to watch what she¡¯s doing. She takes the lid off and puts her open palm above the jug. Slowly, a stream of ink floats up to her palm, forming a large sphere the size of a basketball. It pulses with power, rippling in her hand. One by one, exquisitely crafted and lifelike butterflies crawl out of the orb and flutter around her. She continues creating them until the orb is no more, then extracts the remaining ink into another sphere. Silently, two wet black beaks burst through the liquid globe before the rest of the inky crows'' bodies emerge.

    The crows perch themselves upon the shoulders of their creator, twisting their heads back and forth at our surroundings. The slight look of wetness and pitch-black eyes are the only indicators that those aren¡¯t real crows. Her outfit and creatures cut a menacing figure. Coupled with Isaiah¡¯s physical presence and my discordant voice modulator, we are quite intimidating. I expect this to be simple: Nicholas is not a part of our world of violence and danger. He is a basic man beholden to his vices. Vices that I will exploit to my favor.

    The cyclone of butterflies explodes outward, each fluttering off in every direction. I focus on one of the insects as it lands on top of the lens of a security camera nearby. It crawls into the middle of the lens and bursts into ink, covering the camera completely. That is a remarkable use of her ability. All around the garage, butterflies are bursting to cover the cameras. I step out of the car as Isaiah tosses an earpiece at Rorshach.

    ¡°Thanks. Garage is completely dark. Are you guys taking the stairs or the elevator?¡± Rorschach asked.

    ¡°Elevator, we are here to make an entrance after all,¡± I responded. I¡¯ve been walking up and down stairs constantly.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take point, just in case. I¡¯m bulletproof, and you¡¯re not, Nobody,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Do you mind if my crows sit on your shoulders? It¡¯s easier than having them stay flying around you and it can be a vantage point to watch your back,¡± she said.

    ¡°I do not. Lead the way, Isaiah.¡±

    The crows glide over to my shoulders, and Rorschach gets back into the car. Isaiah pulls his hood up and ties his bandana over his face before he opens the door leading to the elevators. Isaiah presses the button, leaving us to wait for our ride. If there are people inside the elevator, Isaiah will have to knock them out quickly. It is past two in the morning, so there should be little foot traffic at this time of night. The elevator dings as the doors open, revealing an empty cabin. Fortuitous. Rorschach¡¯s remaining butterflies swarm inside, and several splatter themselves against the cameras.

    The inside of the cabin has a mirror for the ceiling and a porcelain tiled floor. The interior aesthetic is gold, and the buttons on the display are clear with Roman numerals. All of this is so wastefully affluent. Is the point of the design only to attract the kind of tenants who would like this or to steer away the poor? By seeing where he lives, I¡¯m getting a glimpse into Nicholas Holmes¡¯ personality. To live at the very top of such a luxurious building tells me he values the optics of wealth more than the actual wealth.

    The sounds of light operatic music through the speakers accompany our ride to the top. The crows are so quiet that I forget about the two passengers on my shoulders. The ding of the elevator brings me out of my thoughts. Two of Rorschach¡¯s butterflies leave us and promptly disable the cameras in the room. The top floor has a lobby with a few pieces of modern furniture and fake plants. There are chairs shaped like eggs and couches that have no backs. There is only one door leading from the lobby, and it¡¯s a white oak door with cream-colored molding. The floor has a large sky mosaic on it illuminated by the glow of the recessed lighting in the ceiling.

    Isaiah walks across the lobby, his boots echoing with every step. I wait inside the elevator''s doorway; Isaiah wants to make sure it is free from traps. What a dutiful hound I have. It''s better for him to get shot or blown up; he is superhuman, after all. He jiggles the handle, testing to see if it¡¯s locked. He puts his ear to the door, listening for something. After a minute of listening, he thumps his fist against the door. I assumed he would pick the lock or disable the security system if there was one. This is far less sophisticated than I thought it would be. Isaiah waits patiently for a few minutes before he starts knocking on the door again. This time, it¡¯s much more frantic and aggressive.

    ¡°Open up, Mickey sent us,¡± Isaiah yelled through the door.

    Mickey? Who is Mickey? I hear someone yell back through the door and then some shuffling before it opens. Nicholas Holmes has russet brown skin, is clean-shaven, and has short, curly black hair. He¡¯s wearing nothing but boxers and a plain white t-shirt over a frame that says his ideal breakfast is cigarettes, black coffee, and a line of cocaine. Not handsome, but not ugly either. Once he¡¯s cleaned up, he probably looks quite impressive in a suit. His appearance has no impact on what I have planned.

    The man¡¯s eyes widen in shock when he sees Isaiah. Before I can blink, Isaiah¡¯s hand is around Nicholas¡¯ neck. Rorschach¡¯s remaining butterflies leave me, heading into the lawyer¡¯s apartment. Isaiah lifts the man up and walks into his apartment, but not before flashing me a thumbs-up behind his back. I count in my head to a hundred and twenty before I make my entrance. This will be our introduction and will set the tone for our relationship. Intelligent, resourceful, and menacing is what I¡¯m aiming for.

    His penthouse loft is spacious, with stairs on the right leading to an overhanging balcony housing what must be his bed. The small kitchen is cluttered with Chinese takeout boxes and empty liquor bottles. Isaiah and Nicholas are sitting in the center of the apartment on two ivory-colored sofas. There¡¯s a matching lounge chair facing the two of them. They saved me a seat.

    We all sit in silence as I observe Nicholas. Isaiah has his gun drawn and pointed at the lawyer. The man is confused and clearly anxious. My helmet, mixed with the gun and Isaiah¡¯s attire, has him unsettled. He¡¯s avoiding looking at me. My helmet does seem to induce fear and terror in people. As I watch him fidget with his hands, I realize it isn¡¯t me that has him so uncomfortable; it¡¯s the birds. The two crows have sat perfectly still on my shoulders since we entered. Is he afraid of birds?

    ¡°Good evening, Mr. Holmes,¡± I said.

    He flinches at the sound of my modulated voice. ¡°Why did Mickey send you two? I paid last week,¡± Nicholas said.

    ¡°He didn¡¯t. That was a lie in order to get you to open the door. Mickey is the perfect name for an Irish piece of shit criminal to have. I figured there was a fifty-fifty chance that someone on O¡¯Rourke¡¯s payroll was named that. Looks like I guessed correctly,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°If you aren¡¯t one of the O¡¯Rourkes, then what are you doing here?¡± Nicholas whined.

    ¡°I am here because you caught the notice of a very bad man.¡± I toss his file onto the coffee table in front of him.

    He opens it, leafing through the pages. ¡°This is a complete breach of privacy. Are you stalking me? Did you make this?¡± Nicholas asked angrily. His tone flipped in a second.

    ¡°No, I am not the one who created that. But the good news is that there is only one copy, and you are holding it. If you choose to destroy it, then all records of your illicit activities go away,¡± I said.

    He goes quiet, his tension easing as he digests my words.

    ¡°But the person who created this file is still out there, free to make another one, correct?¡± He asked me.

    ¡°That is unlikely,¡± I answered.

    ¡°And why is that?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯d be because he is fuckin¡¯ dead,¡± Isaiah chimed in cheerily.

    A bit of subtlety would go a long way. I would rather not admit to crimes to people who are not part of our organization, but Nicholas is joining us tonight. He will join, or we are going to be faking a suicide at dawn.

    ¡°Did you kill them?¡±

    ¡°Do you want to know the answer to that question? The burden of knowledge can be heavier than you imagine. Just know that a lot of people will sleep much easier at night after tomorrow¡¯s morning news,¡± I said.

    ¡°Fair enough. I can take a hint. So what, you broke into my apartment complex in the middle of the night to tell me you have saved me from some Sword of Damocles that I was unaware of? And I¡¯m supposed to believe you¡¯re an altruistic Cowl who did this good deed out of the kindness of their heart?¡± Nicholas said sarcastically.

    He is more relaxed now that he knows we have no relation to the O¡¯Rourkes. Does he believe that we are less dangerous than them?

    ¡°Altruism is the habit of martyrs and fools. You can believe whatever you would like. I did all of this to serve as an introduction between us. You may call me Nobody, and I would like you to take me on as a client,¡± I said.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a defense attorney; I¡¯m a contract lawyer. I¡¯d be practically useless in court.

    ¡°Nicholas, I am well aware of what type of lawyer you are. It was not by chance that I came to you. I am in the process of building a company and having a man with your area of expertise will help ensure everything is above ground and notarized. Your proclivity for illegal extracurriculars makes you the ideal candidate,¡± I said.

    ¡°Are you blackmailing me?¡± He said defensively.

    ¡°No, I am genuine in my desire to be one of your clients. As a show of sincerity, I¡¯ll even free you of your debt to the O¡¯Rourkes. How much do you owe them, and where do they operate out of? I will negotiate with them on your behalf, and you will never be bothered by them again. How does that sound?¡±

    ¡°It sounds far too weighed in my favor to be real. You have given me the only proof of my admittedly harmless crimes, handled the only person who knew about them, and now you¡¯re going to wipe away my debt to the O¡¯Rourke crime family. You did all this for me to accept you as a client in what you claim is a perfectly legal capacity. It¡¯s hard to believe there isn¡¯t something I¡¯m missing, some hidden catch,¡± Nicholas said.

    ¡°You could give us a discount on your services if you¡¯d like,¡± Isaiah added.

    ¡°While a reduced fee would be nice, it is not necessary for us to do business. I am operating in good faith with you because I am a professional. As a contract lawyer with flexible morals, you represent a wonderful opportunity to accomplish some plans I believed would be out of reach for some time. As you mentioned before, I am a Cowl, and that carries with it a stigma that greatly reduces the avenues in which I can engage to establish a foothold for my company. Let me prove my competence, and we can finalize our partnership after I take care of your problem,¡± I said.

    ¡°Okay, I would like some time to think it over. The O¡¯Rourke¡¯s main base, so to speak, is located underneath a bar called Doublin¡¯ Down over on Briggan Ave. That¡¯s where they all hang out and where they host the majority of the fights you can bet on. I¡¯m only in the hole forty thousand to them,¡± Nicholas responded.

    Isaiah stands up first, walking to the glass doors that lead to his outside balcony. He unlocks them and opens them wide, causing the two passengers on my shoulders to take off into the night. Rorschach will find the bar and let us know what we¡¯re walking into. Nicholas jumps as the butterflies stir, having been still the entirety of our conversation. The butterflies land on Isaiah¡¯s massive frame, catching a ride on the man. Forty thousand is not a small debt but the value that Nicholas represents is incalculable. Neither Isaiah nor I speak until we¡¯re in the elevator descending.

    ¡°Rorschach, keep an eye on Mr. Holmes. I would hate to go to all this trouble just to get stabbed in the back,¡± I said.

    ¡°She¡¯s already ahead of you; she left four of her butterflies inside his apartment,¡± Isaiah laughed.

    If he betrays my goodwill, I will throw him off the top of this building.

 Chapter 37 - Doubling Down

    Briggan Ave is not in a nice part of Quinstin. It¡¯s located in what people call the Abandoned District, or AD for shorthand. It isn¡¯t literally abandoned; that¡¯s just the name the residents gave it. There¡¯s barely any police presence, and only a few Capes bother showing up. The city is divided into rings, and each ring consists of four quarters, with the outermost ring consisting of the industrial district, the harbor district, the abandoned district, and then the suburbs. The suburbs are located on the opposite side of the city from the abandoned district.

    The Doublin¡¯ Down Pub is bustling even at almost two A.M. The faded brick building¡¯s neon orange sign flickers occasionally. Below it, there are a few groups of people who are outside smoking, and a large man in a leather jacket serves as the bouncer. Isaiah pulls around the bar to park in the back. There aren¡¯t any people hanging out by the back entrance, but there is another bouncer. This one has a bright orange beard and a Celtic knot tattooed on his face. Rorschach¡¯s birds scouted ahead, so we¡¯re aware that the back entrance is where people access the real club with the fight pits.

    ¡°Stagger sending in the remaining butterflies. I want the whole place mapped out before we enter,¡± I said.

    Rorschach nods her head, rolling down her window to let all her butterflies out. The insects are nearly invisible in the darkness, and under the glow of the street lights, they appear to be regular bugs. She slowly has her scouts sneak through the door whenever it opens. She talks us through the process, having butterflies station themselves in coirners and on the ceilings. It takes her around twenty minutes to complete.

    ¡°I¡¯m fully set up,¡± she said.

    ¡°How''s it looking in there?¡± Isaiah asked.

    ¡°I was going to explain that until you fucking interrupted me,¡± Rorschach chided Isaiah.

    ¡°Oops,¡± Isaiah smiled.

    ¡°There¡¯s a long staircase down to this giant room. In the center of the room is a caged-in sandpit with a raised platform surrounding it. On top of the platform are tables with spectators betting and being served drinks by bottle girls. It isn¡¯t very Irish-themed down there. There are two armed men at the exits and all four corners of the room. The left side has a fully stocked bar that doubles as the betting station. One door in the back is locked, and I have no way of getting into it. I would assume that is where they keep the cash. Also, four people stand out to me as possible Cowls,¡± Rorschach reported.

    ¡°Why would Cowls be here?¡± I asked.

    ¡°The final match of the night seems like it¡¯s a fight between two Neuvohumans. From what I''ve heard, there is a lot of money riding on that match,¡± Rorschach answered.

    ¡°Any idea who the Cowls are or what kind of powers they might have?¡± Isaiah asked.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t know the scene here in Quinstin. There are three women and a man dressed in a way that screams Cowl. I can¡¯t figure out much about them. Unfortunately, you two will have to go in blind,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°Having your eyes and ears everywhere is already incredibly useful. This will be my first public outing as Nobody, so I will not suffer defeat or setback. Tonight has to go flawlessly and discreetly. We are not here to make alliances, enemies, or waves. We will meet with the leader of the O¡¯Rourkes and pay off Nicholas¡¯ debt. Understood?¡± I asked.

    Rorschach assents and Isaiah gives me a thumbs-up. Isaiah pops the trunk, and I hand him the duffel bag of money. Isaiah unzips it and hides several flash bangs and smoke grenades in it. He takes his hoodie off, and I notice that he has two handguns already holstered. The trunk is full of weaponry and equipment, and I¡¯m beginning to wonder where he¡¯s getting all of this. Isaiah puts extra magazines into his waistband and then puts the hoodie back on. He still has the earpiece to communicate with Rorschach while we¡¯re inside. I reload a fresh magazine into my gun, and we walk towards the entrance. Not much else I can do to prepare for this.

    Every lesson I have learned since putting on the mask, every person I have crushed beneath my boot, and every crime I have committed has helped to craft the persona of Nobody¡ªan enigmatic mystery with zero hesitation who can accomplish anything. Isaiah trails behind me closely and intercepts the bouncer before he can approach me.

    ¡°Oi, haven¡¯t seen you lot before. What¡¯re you doin¡¯ ere?¡± The bouncer asked, moving his coat to reveal a gun.

    ¡°Easy, easy. We¡¯re here to talk with the man in charge and maybe see a fight or two,¡± Isaiah said, flashing the money in the bag.

    ¡°And what¡¯s to stop me from relieving you of your luggage?¡± he asked.

    Isaiah steps forward into the bouncer¡¯s space, looking down at him. ¡°Me. Now, are you going to let us inside or¡­¡±

    He realizes it isn¡¯t worth the hassle, so he steps aside to let us in. Isaiah and I descend a flight of stairs that reminds me of our base. What awaits at the bottom is different than what I pictured from Rorschach¡¯s description. It¡¯s more of a nightclub than a basement bar. Thumping music and strobe lights mix with all the various types of smoke that fill the room.

    My eyes wander across the room, taking in every detail and filing it deep within my brain. Most of the people here look to be of Irish descent, but there are a few groups that are clearly not part of the O¡¯Rourkes.  I count around a hundred people, including staff and guards. The guards are each holding a shotgun and alert as they watch over the floor. Isaiah approaches the betting bar and I stay back a bit amongst the crowd. I join the mass of dancing people, avoiding any interaction with them and maintaining a distance to where I can still hear Isaiah. He¡¯s leaning over to talk to a staff member. It¡¯s an Irish woman wearing a tight white blouse that shows off her ample cleavage and a black pencil skirt with matching tights.

    ¡°Hi, how can I help you, Sir?¡± She asked.

    ¡°I can think of a few ways,¡± Isaiah said with a smile.

    If flirting gets us into a meeting with the boss, then he can fuck her for her help. Would she still be attracted knowing that the man she finds so handsome is a cold-blooded murderer? She does work for a criminal; perhaps her type happens to be violent killers.

    A faint blush washes over her freckled face, but she quickly regains her composure.

    ¡°Me ma warned me about men with fast lips and their wicked ways,¡± She said.

    ¡°The things I do with my lips have been called wicked before, so she isn¡¯t technically wrong,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°You talk a big game, lad. I hope you can live up to it.¡±

    ¡°If you have an hour to spare, I¡¯d be glad to show you,¡± Isaiah replied.

    ¡°I don¡¯t get off for another few hours, but why doncha gimme a call?¡± she said, passing Isaiah a napkin with her number on it.

    ¡°Well, now that pleasure has been sorted, we can get down to business. I would like to meet with the owner of this fine establishment. Can you arrange that for me, darling?¡± Isaiah asked, folding the napkin into his pocket.

    ¡°Sure, just lemme grab Mickey,¡± she said.

    She walks away from behind the bar and approaches one of the security guards to talk. With the music and general noise of the place, there''s no hope of knowing what she¡¯s saying. If this goes sideways, we could end up attracting the kind of attention I have avoided for so long: Capes. The guard she¡¯s speaking to pulls out a small walkie-talkie and says something into it. She comes back and continues to flirt with Isaiah.

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    ¡°I told them you wanted to meet with Mickey, and I realized I don¡¯t know your name, stranger. I can¡¯t just think of you as the hot guy from the bar.¡±

    ¡°Isaiah Jules, at your service, Miss?¡±

    ¡°Miss nothing, name¡¯s Riley. And Mickey¡¯ll be out soon to meet with you. Do you want to have a drink first?¡± Riley said.

    ¡°I¡¯m here representing my boss, and he¡¯s a bit no-nonsense, so he might frown on that. Flirting with the lovely staff is one thing; getting fucked up is another,¡± Isaiah laughed.

    I can let him have his fun tonight as long as it does not interfere with our objective. I trust that he knows how much alcohol he can handle. If he wants a drink, he can have one. I am not against letting others have their fun. Isaiah and I have very different ideas of what constitutes fun. Fun might not even be the correct word, and I cannot think of anything in my life that I would consider more than a performance. The act of pretending to experience enjoyment is something that came easily to me. I should carve out some time to practice drinking; college life will be harder if I abstain from alcohol.

    Out of the corner of my eye, I see the sleaziest-looking man I have ever seen in my entire life. Even after dealing with traffickers, thieves, and transients, he is the sludge of the shit. Bright red dreadlocks with gold bands clasped around the tips hang from his head. A curly waxed mustache and multiple scars cover his face. He¡¯s got a bulging belly and thick, hairy arms with fingers adorned in rings. Dressed in a white polo completely unbuttoned, black slacks, and brown suede shoes. Ugly and loud.

    ¡°Oi, heard ye want to speak to the ole man? Name¡¯s Mickey O¡¯Rourke,¡± the man said with a thick Irish accent.

    ¡°Yes, my employer and I have business to discuss with him,¡± Isaiah said professionally.

    ¡°And where¡¯s yer employer? I don¡¯t see anyone around.¡±

    I take the opportunity to step forward out of the crowd and approach them. ¡°That would be me.¡±

    ¡°Oo, yer propah fuckin spooky aren¡¯t ya? So why doncha tells us why yer here? I¡¯ll decide if it¡¯s worth da¡¯s time,¡± he responded.

    Isaiah glances back at me, and I shake my head. I am not wasting time talking to grunts, even if they are related to the man I want to meet. Will this provoke him into attacking us?

    ¡°No, can do. This is a bit of private conversation,¡± Isaiah said, gesturing to the room.

    While the betting bar is vacant, I do not want to be overheard. I keep my eyes focused on Mickey, watching and waiting for any sign of an attack. Mickey chuckles before erupting into laughter.

    ¡°Yer a funny one, you right, big bastard. Well me Da won¡¯t be free till the end of the matches. You¡¯re welcome to wait fer em, but you better be buyin¡¯ or bettin¡¯. Don¡¯t give a damn if your boss is the fuckin¡¯ pope; we ain¡¯t runnin¡¯ a goddamn charity,¡± Mickey said, walking away from us.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to grab a table. Take ten grand and do whatever you want with it,¡± I said.

    I leave him to wander through the bar. A few people are dancing on the floor, while most are centered around the giant fight pit. I can hear sporadic shouting over the music, presumably coinciding with vicious hits from the fighters. People cluster around tables, holding drinks and screaming. I spot a table that has no one at it and take a seat at it. Perfect. Tonight is meant to be lowkey; if I start a fight over a table, that goes out the window. It is better to stay out of the way while waiting for the O¡¯Rourke boss.

    The high-top table is surprisingly spotless. From my chair, I scan the room like a marksman in a tower. Rorschach said there were four Cowls. Why do I only spot three? A man in a grey full-body suit with a white cross on the chest and a gold collar around his neck. The outfit only leaves his mouth and jaw exposed. He¡¯s got a long, wispy beard, black glass orbs over his eyes, and a crown of spikes on the top of his head. He''s got several empty glasses at his table and is cheering loudly at the fight. He¡¯s shitfaced. It reminds me of Jean-Luc on Christmas.

    Another table on the opposite side of the pit from the loud, drunk Cowl has five women sitting at it. Three of the women are dressed in typical club wear, with heels and plenty of skin showing. The other two are clearly Cowls. One is a lilac-skinned woman with bright blue eyes and hair. Her crop top and skirt are made out of dense purple energy that I can see moving from where I¡¯m sitting. I will have to look her up in the database. It might be a power worth taking. Taking powers from Quinstin Capes and Cowls might be dangerous while I am unaware of who they are connected to. Her fellow Cowl is tan sandy colored skin and wearing a white pantsuit that¡¯s unbuttoned at the top. She¡¯s wearing a thin piece of cloth across her breasts, and the right side of her face, neck, and torso is covered in tattoos of rising waves and oceanic creatures. Her straight black hair is pulled back into a ponytail, with her bangs sitting just above her eyes. She would appear approachable if she weren¡¯t leaning on a claymore that¡¯s longer than I am tall. In terms of danger, I would rank Lilac, followed by Claymore, and then the drunk. Where the hell is that fourth Neuvohuman?

    I continue to scan each table, ignoring the fight in favor of finding the fourth Cowl. The two men fighting are probably behind on payments and being forced to fight to pay off their debt. Is this where Nicholas would one day end up if he had not had the fortune of meeting me? If I could only locate that final Cowl, I would be more at ease. All it takes is a single surprise to kill a plan.

    ¡°Hey, who are we looking for?¡±

    My head whips to my left to find a woman sitting right next to me. Asian, no older than mid-twenties. The fourth Cowl. How long has she been sitting there? How long have I been sitting here? Did she do something to me? She¡¯s close enough to touch, and she seemingly appears out of thin air. There¡¯s no way I could have missed her; she is too eye-catching. A white rabbit masquerade mask covered in sequins is strapped to her face like it¡¯s a Halloween costume. Black lipstick contrasts with her mask, and she has a large scar on the right side of her face that goes from her mouth to her ear. Painful looking, but no attempt to hide it means she is proud of it. She has blue and pink striped tights on that go into black combat boots and an oversized tie-dye sweatshirt with spiked pauldrons attached to it like she¡¯s in a fantasy RPG. The sleeves on her sweatshirt have stitched-on additions that make them significantly longer than they should be. We look like polar opposites. Her whole outfit screams look at me, so how did I miss her? She waves her hand in front of my helmet.

    ¡°You in there? I asked you a question, and it¡¯s rude to ignore a lady,¡± she said happily.

    She is trying to throw me off and keep me on my back foot. The best defense to someone like her is to counter your opponent with their own momentum.

    ¡°Forgive my rudeness, miss¡­?¡±

    She just barely controls the subtle twitch at the sound of my modulated voice. ¡°Tuesday, you can call me Tuesday. And I¡¯ll call youuuuu?¡±

    Her voice has a sing-song quality that is hard to pinpoint. Is it an ability?

    ¡°Nobody. I¡¯m Nobody,¡± I said.

    ¡°You¡¯re nobody? Oh, you mean you¡¯re Nobody, like with a capital N. I get it; very clever, very chic,¡± she said.

    This girl is odd and possibly insane. She could be hiding any number of weapons under that sweatshirt. If she is a Traveler, I might not reach my gun before she attacks. This is like dealing with Maria. How do I keep attracting psychotic women?

    ¡°So, are you here alone, or are you meeting someone?¡± Tuesday asked.

    Tuesday crosses her arms to prop up her breasts in a seduction attempt, which doesn¡¯t work due to her being flat, the oversized sweatshirt, and my having no interest in anyone.

    ¡°I am here with someone, but I am also here to meet with someone.¡±

    Damn you, Offset. Where the hell is Isaiah? Before she can ask me a more personal question, I go on the offensive.

    ¡°You are clearly a Cowl, Tuesday: a Mentalist, possibly a Manipulator. Is your power the reason you have chosen to approach me, a complete stranger?¡±

    ¡°Nope, just a love of mysteries and poor impulse control. I mean, my dude, you¡¯re dressed head to toe in black with a scary helmet. Your whole aura screams evil villain. All you need is a cat to pet while you threaten the president with nukes. So naturally, being the second coming of Agatha Christie, I had to do my civil duty and investigate the spooky man sitting by himself. My curiosity must be satiated once it''s been piqued,¡± she said.

    She is unpredictable, and I do not need any complications to arise. I adjust my posture to be less rigid, more relaxed, and casual. Slouching back in my chair, I reach for my gun with my left hand hidden by the table. I move close, keeping the pistol under the table, and lean over to her.

    ¡°You seem to be a woman who appreciates direct instructions, so let me be crystal clear. Walk away from the table, and do not bother me again, or I will kill you.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you read the sign on your way in? No violence unless it¡¯s in the pit,¡± she chided me.

    ¡°Rules exist for the rabble. I do not ask twice,¡± I said.

    ¡°The more you turn me away, the more interested I get. But a proper lady knows when to quit,¡± she said, getting up from the table.

    ¡°Were you talking to somebody, boss?¡± Isaiah said.

    The moment I turn to look at Isaiah, Tuesday disappears from my view. I whip my head around, trying to catch a glimpse of her ridiculous costume. How is she hiding from my notice? There is no point in asking Isaiah if he saw her; she seems to be invisible.

    ¡°Keep your head on a swivel. There is a woman named Tuesday, dressed loudly and wearing a rabbit mask. She has some kind of Mentalist ability that affects people¡¯s perception of her. Of everyone here, she represents the most danger to my plan,¡± I said.

    ¡°I got it. If I see her, I¡¯ll take her out. Don¡¯t worry; I¡¯ll keep it low-key,¡± Isaiah responded.

    ¡°Excellent. What did you learn from the woman at the bar?¡±

    ¡°Besides her number? Well, the staff are not part of the O¡¯Rourkes and are just employees. She told me that the headliner match tonight is between two Neuvohumans named Ciggs and Lincoln Locke. She wouldn¡¯t give me any info about who they are. I bet ten thousand on Ciggs for the two-to-one odds. Still leaves us with plenty of money after we handle the other thing.¡±

    A bell dings and I look over to the sand pit. The sand pit is large and seems to be modeled after a MMA octagon. There are two doors, one on either side, from which the fighters enter. From our table, I can see down the fifteen-foot drop to the pit itself. The sand is discolored in various shades of brown and red from the competitor¡¯s blood. The match has ended, and the victor is standing above his opponent. Based on his looks and tattoos, the winner seems to be one of the O¡¯Rourkes. His hands and bare chest are covered in the other man¡¯s blood, and he has a black eye and a broken nose. At his feet is the badly beaten other man. He looks terrible and keeps vomiting blood onto the sand. Gleeful outcry intermixed with boos as the victor raises his hands high. After he celebrates for a minute, two men enter the sand pit from below and drag the loser out. The winner follows them out, and the music slowly fades away. The lights dim as Mickey¡¯s voice comes through the speakers.

    ¡°Oi, give it up fer Finn! Attaboy, you showed that bastard. Now that our undercard has ended, we can finally get to the main event. The one you fucks have been frothing at the mouth like rabid dogs fer. ARE YOU READY FOR BLOOD?¡± He screamed.

    The crowd erupts in agreement. I spot the drunk Cowl nearly fall out of his seat. All around the room, people are emphatically demanding blood.

    ¡°I SAID ARE YOU READY FOR BLOOD?¡±

 Chapter 38 - Too Bad For You

    Chapter 38.

    ¡°I SAID ARE YOU READY FOR BLOOD?¡±

    Mickey has genuine talent on the mic, and he¡¯s working the crowd well.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got two right fuckin¡¯ monsters ready fer battle. On the left side, we¡¯ve got Ciggs. Come on out!¡± Mickey yelled.

    The left door opens, and a tall, dark-skinned man with a lean build walks out of it. His box braids hang loosely from his head, and he¡¯s smoking a cigarette. The only thing he has on are black track pants as he steps onto the sand. He has no visible scars or injuries. Either this is his first fight, or he does not get hit a lot. People are shouting, whistling, and cheering for him as he walks out. Ciggs doesn¡¯t wave or respond to any of the audience. He keeps his eyes trained on the opposite doorway.

    ¡°And his opponent: Lincoln Locke!¡±

    From the other door comes an older man on the shorter side. He¡¯s in good shape, but given his full white beard and salt-and-pepper hair, he must be in his late fifties or early sixties. His body is covered in barbed wire tattoos that originate from the giant lock on his back. Did he get a tattoo of a lock just because it¡¯s his name? Like Ciggs, he¡¯s shirtless but wearing gold boxer shorts. His only other accessory is two black rings he has on his middle fingers. The crowd once again explodes into cheering and clapping. I guess we are deep enough underground that none of the noise travels.

    ¡°No more bets¡¯ll be accepted. So if you missed ya chance, tough shit. The fight will go on until one of them can¡¯t continue. Only rules are don¡¯t involve the audience and don¡¯t fuck up the bar. On my count. TREE! TWO! ONE! FIGHT!¡±

    The crowd goes dead silent as the fight begins. Lincoln makes the first move by clapping his hands together. He flings his arms out and barbed deep red chains slither out from his palms. Ciggs doesn¡¯t react to the showcase except to slowly circle Lincoln while pressing his back against the wall of the pit. The chains drag on the sand but don¡¯t make a single rattle as the two men size each other up. There is tension and excitement in the air as if the audience is holding their breath. Watching these two makes me think about how I would do in their place. I would have to compete in the regular human fights; my power does not augment my ability to fight. I have never been in a fight before. I should ask Vivienne to train me when things settle down.

    Lincoln breaks the stalemate first. The older man smiles and whips his right chain forward in a blur. The speed of the attack is so fast that the younger man can¡¯t react and gets his chest sliced open. The cut isn¡¯t clean, a diagonal tear going down his torso, dripping blood onto the sand below. With age comes experience. Ciggs touches his chest, getting the blood all over his hand. He flicks his hand clean and rushes across the pit at Lincoln. The chain whips through the air, but Ciggs seems to anticipate it and jumps over it completely. Before he can punch Lincoln, the second chain wraps around his leg, lifting him into the air and then slamming him to the ground. Somebody gasps as Ciggs'' body collides with the sand. Lincoln rushes to end the fight by bringing a chain crashing down on his head. Already over. The scales flip in an instant. One second, Ciggs is bound and about to have his skull split, and the next, he¡¯s transformed into a cloud of thick smoke. What an unusual ability.

    Lincoln lashes out with both chains, but they pass harmlessly through Ciggs in this form. The cloud tunnels at Lincoln as he¡¯s mid-swing. Two human hands emerge out of the smoke to grab Lincoln by his shoulders as Ciggs transforms back to use his momentum to throw the older man into the wall. The crowd loves that, and even Isaiah is shouting next to me. Lincoln¡¯s body hits the wall, and Ciggs¡¯ smoke form shoots after him. The way he switches back is so seamless that it cannot be a Shifter ability. This fight is much more even than I originally thought.

    Ciggs capitalizes and continuously punches Lincoln Locke in the gut and face. The man tries to use his chains to grab Ciggs, but they go right through him, leaving smoke trails behind. He can choose to transform parts of himself. It can be automatic, or he wouldn¡¯t have been hit earlier. The older man takes another gut punch and coughs out a mouthful of blood onto his opponent¡¯s face and chest. From our seating, Ciggs¡¯ back is to us, so I happen to spot the smile on Lincoln¡¯s face as chains burst out of Ciggs¡¯ chest and face. These new chains attach themselves to the wall and shoot into the sand. The younger competitor changes into his smoke form, but the parts of his skin that have chains do not change. If the chains are considered part of Lincoln, then it makes sense that Ciggs cannot turn them into smoke. Seeing pieces of Ciggs¡¯ skin floating amongst the smoke is interesting. It speaks to a flaw and limitation of his power. Does that mean he cannot change any parts that are connected to other people? Lincoln cannot hurt Ciggs, and Ciggs cannot move. Does that make this match a draw?

    ¡°I want that power, boss,¡± Isaiah said quietly.

    ¡°Ciggs or Lincoln?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Ciggs. I can think of so many possibilities with it. It would allow me to infiltrate anywhere. And clearly, it has combat use.¡±

    ¡°It would work well with your skillset. We can try to make it happen, but only after Kai and I have figured out the side effects of, you know what,¡± I answered.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    The fight has ground to a halt while Lincoln struggles to get off the wall, and the chains bind Ciggs. If nothing happens, no one will make any money, and I cannot see that going well for the O¡¯Rourkes with all the Cowls in attendance. The smoke cloud thrashes in place above the ground, unable to escape. It slowly lowers down to the sand, the chains going slack as Ciggs changes back. The deep red chains are fused with his skin. What an odd power. Ciggs kicks Lincoln in the chest a few times before addressing everyone.

    ¡°The old man can¡¯t continue, and I¡¯d rather not kill him if I don¡¯t have to. This is my win, regardless of these chains,¡± Ciggs said, rattling the ones on his body.

    ¡°What do we think? Do we stop the fight?¡± Mickey asked overhead.

    Everybody in the room responds with boos and jeers.

    ¡°You heard em. Finish him, or you ain¡¯t gettin¡¯ shit.¡±

    Instead of attacking the defenseless Lincoln, Ciggs just puts his hands on the man¡¯s face. His arms turn into smoke, covering the older Cowl¡¯s head completely. Is he trying to suffocate him? A coughing fit becomes wheezing as Lincoln Locke chokes, unable to get any air into his lungs. The crowd¡¯s excitement rises as Lincoln finally collapses, lying still on the ground. All of the chains break down into drops of blood. Ciggs absorbs the smoke back into his body to reconstitute his arms to the sound of angry cries and uproarious cheers. Vivienne would love this kind of gladiatorial combat. I should bring her here at some point. He doesn¡¯t stay to celebrate and immediately leaves through the door he entered.

    ¡°We¡¯ve wasted enough time. I want to settle things with the O¡¯Rourkes and get out of here,¡± I said, getting out of my seat.

    Isaiah nods, and the two of us leave the sand pit area to look for Mickey or a guard who can bring us to the head of the O¡¯Rourkes. Vivienne still has not responded to my texts. This is not like her. Am I experiencing worry for her safety? I can still feel my connection to her, so she is alive, at the very least. Hopefully, the O¡¯Rourke head will not prove irrational or difficult.

    <hr>

    Isaiah and I follow Mickey and two guards through the locked door into a dimly lit hallway with a single door at the very end. Mickey seems very nonchalant about me being a Cowl, but the guards¡¯ fingers haven¡¯t left their triggers since we started walking. They think I am the dangerous one, but all I have is a gun. Isaiah could kill all of them with just his body. Just because he does not wear a costume or a mask does not mean he is powerless.

    Mickey opens the door for us, and I walk in first, followed by Isaiah, the guards, and Mickey. The room is remarkably sparse, different from what I expected from Mickey''s father. There is a faded suede carpet, paint peeling off the walls, and basic wooden chairs. A poorly handmade shelf has a few bottles of liquor on it, but nothing compared to what the Deckler family had in their basement. A safe as large as a fridge is embedded in the wall, and it looks to be a basic tumbler variety. How much money is in there? The only opulent item in the entire room is an ornate mahogany desk that the O¡¯Rourke patriarch is sitting at. Is the room purposely worn down to trick people into thinking the O¡¯Rourkes are poor small fries? Or are they just as pathetic as they appear?

    The man is weathered and world-weary in a way I¡¯ve only seen in people who¡¯ve worked hard labor their whole lives. Tight, wrinkled skin that is blindingly pale with liver spots dotting his shaved face and bald head. His left eye is faded and muddy, but his right eye is focused like a hawk. He¡¯s wearing a tailored suit that still manages to look large on his frail frame. His calloused, arthritic fingers drum against his desk. This will not be simple. He motions to the chairs in front of his desk, and Isaiah and I take a seat.

    ¡°These are the two who wanted to meet ya, Da,¡± Mickey said.

    ¡°I can bloody well tell that, boy. God above, I¡¯m old, not fuckin¡¯ daft. Get out of here, Mickey. Finn and Douglas are plenty to keep me safe. Go back to the bar and see how we did.¡± Mickey looks like he wants to say something but nods and closes the door behind him. ¡°Me boy, he¡¯s good, but he¡¯s grown in age, not mind. Not a lick of sense between his ears. I am James O¡¯Rourke, and I reckon the business you¡¯re wanting to discuss involves that duffle bag of cash.¡±

    I should be the one to speak as a show of respect. Will the voice unnerve him?

    ¡°A pleasure to meet you, Mr. O¡¯Rourke. I am Nobody, and this is Isaiah. We are here to,¡± I said.

    ¡°James. Please, lads, call me James,¡± he interrupted. Strike one.

    ¡°Well, James, we are here on behalf of a mutual acquaintance. They owe you a sum of money, and I would like to pay it off and an extra fifty percent as a show of respect. How does that sound?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Who is this mutual acquaintance we share?¡±

    ¡°Nicholas Holmes.¡±

    ¡°Ahh, the lawyer. So you¡¯re saying you¡¯re gonna pay off the fella¡¯s full debt and an extra fifty for the troubles? Why that does indeed sound like quite the lucrative offer. The question is, why? What¡¯s a couple of gangsters from out of town want with a lawyer from Quinstin?¡± James asked.

    Mickey may be an idiot, but the apple falls very far from the tree. Why does he have to ask? I feel the gnawing itch in my brain from Offset. How can I spin the truth slightly enough to relieve the itch?

    ¡°He is uniquely suited to assist us with something. And that is all I am willing to say, James,¡± I answered curtly. Do not push me on this. If I am forced to explain the details of my plan because of questions you ask, I will wipe out the O¡¯Rourkes down to the last man.

    ¡°And what if I decide I want to press the issue?¡± Strike two.

    ¡°I think that would be a mistake. And I think you would regret it,¡± I responded.

    ¡°Yeah? Boys, look around you. You¡¯ve walked into the den of a lion willingly. What¡¯s to stop me from just taking your bag of cash from ya?¡± James asked. Strike three.

    Is he trying to extort us? Is he trying to extort me? He needs help understanding the position he is in. I do not have to pay him anything. I could have had Isaiah kill them all and just take what I want. ¡°You would not survive the attempt.¡±

    The two guards behind us shift slightly, probably adjusting their weapons at us. Isaiah is close enough and fast enough to shield me from the gunfire. Then he can kill the guards, and we¡¯ll take the older man hostage. James O¡¯Rourke isn¡¯t smiling anymore. His hawk-like eye is narrowed, and he¡®s looking at me hatefully.

    ¡°Are you fuckin¡¯ threatening me, lad? Two nobodies, barely wet behind the ears, have the fuckin¡¯ nerve to speak to me like that? Me and my family built this little kingdom of ours out of nothing but blood, sweat, and friggin¡¯ tears. You think I¡¯ll let a wee pup, barely dropped out of his mum¡¯s cunt have a go at me? No, I got too much pride for that,¡± Mr. O¡¯Rourke said, pulling a large revolver out from under his desk.

    Too bad for you; my helmet is-

 Chapter 39 - Im Bulletproof (I)

    Nobody¡¯s helmet stops the bullet, but not the force of it. His head jolts back as he gets blown out of his chair and falls to the ground motionless. I¡¯m on my feet as soon as I see James¡¯ gun and on the guards before they can react. How dare they betray him? I swing my chair into the first guard so hard it explodes into splinters. He flies into the wall, crumpling onto the ground. I take the leg still in my hand and plunge it halfway through the second guard¡¯s chest. They won¡¯t live to regret this. Like a panther on the hunt, I pounce across the room and throw the mahogany desk away from us into the wall. James¡¯ beady little eye goes wide at my display, and he points the revolver at me. I smack the gun away with my full strength and the old man¡¯s wrist snaps. It hangs loosely by slivers of skin, with what remains of his ulna and radius poking out and blood gushing from it.

    ¡°ARRGH. FUCK. FUCK, fuck. Alright, boy, I fucked up. Why don¡¯t you come work for me? We¡¯ve always got a place for a man of your talents,¡± James said shakily.

    ¡°Do you know the difference between pride and arrogance? It¡¯s capability. And the man I choose to follow is extremely capable.¡± I pick him up by his head, cradling both sides of his face in my hands. He struggles as I exert force on his head, and I wipe sweat from his forehead with my thumb. ¡°He¡¯s not a good man, but neither am I,¡± I said, pulping his head like a watermelon.

    His old bones offer as much resistance as paper mache, and I¡¯m covered in what remains of James O¡¯Rourke¡¯s head. It¡¯s what he would want me to do. Nobody¡¯s image must be protected. Insulting my loyalty is a death sentence. Crouching down next to the guard who I hit with the chair, I grab the knife in my boot and jam it into his eye, through his skull, and into the wall. I need to control my strength more. Nobody¡¯s chest is rising, so he¡¯s unconscious, not dead. Vivienne would kill me if I let the boss die. He needs body armor or Hyperweave. He¡¯d be dead if James had aimed at his chest. I move the desk to block the door before I look through the guards'' pockets. I add the cash to our duffel bag before contacting Rorschach.

    ¡°You there, Rorschach?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes, what is the situation? I don¡¯t have eyes on the room,¡± she said.

    ¡°Boss is taking a bit of a siesta, and I just killed the O¡¯Rourke patriarch, so I¡¯d say pretty well,¡± I joked.

    ¡°What the fuck happened? Nobody said diplomacy and anonymity. How on earth did you guys fuck that up?¡± She yelled into my ear.

    ¡°The O¡¯Rourke guy tried to extort the boss, and that went about as well as you can imagine. A lot of back and forth, yadda yadda, and then he pulled out a gun and shot Nobody in the head. He¡¯s fine as far as I can tell, but his helmet sucks at dissipating force. This could become a repeat problem; we need to get protective gear for the group. We¡¯re not small potatoes anymore. We will have to find a way to get in touch with the Merchants; I¡¯m sure there¡¯s a cell in Quinstin,¡± I said.

    Every major city with a Cape and Cowl presence has a cell of the Merchants. Loosely considered a Cowl group due to their neutrality regarding Capes and Cowls, they are the one-stop shop for acquiring items the public doesn¡¯t even know exist. The Silk Road meets Anonymous crossed with Amazon. Nothing is known about its high-ranking members, but everyone knows the group is as elusive as they are widespread.

    Veritas somehow had a connection with them, which she carried with her to the grave. We¡¯ll need to find a Broker once we¡¯re set up.

    ¡°We can talk about that once you two are out of there. There¡¯s no other exit besides the way you came in. I can cause a distraction for you to escape with him,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°Can¡¯t leave until he¡¯s awake. If he¡¯s got a head injury, I don¡¯t want to move him. Besides, I spy a safe that¡¯s begging for release. Think of all the poor money that¡¯s trapped inside,¡± I responded.

    ¡°Safe? Well, get to it, Scaley. Mama needs some cash.¡±

    I have never been the safecracker in a crew, and I don¡¯t know the first thing about it. The safe could have any combination, and there is no way I could guess it. Placing one hand on the handle and the other against the wall, I pull as hard as I can. Despite the look of the room, the walls are solid concrete, and the safe isn¡¯t budging¡ªnothing a little elbow grease can¡¯t solve. I step back and then start punching the wall surrounding the safe. A regular adult man has no problems putting holes in walls, let alone a Neuvohuman like me. Cement, paint chips, and powdered drywall fill the air from my attacks. I eventually excavate enough of the safe¡¯s surroundings to allow me to rip the thing out of the wall. The safe is long, significantly longer than I thought when I saw it. The outer shell of it is thick, and I can¡¯t seem to dent it. What kind of treasure awaits me inside? I lift the safe onto its back and wrap my left arm around it. With my right hand on the handle, I start to pull. The metal holds at first, but I ramp it up a notch until I hear the safe door groaning. I steadily increase my strength as the bolt holding it shut starts to give under my pressured pulling. Finally, I manage to rip the door off the safe, stumbling backward onto my ass. At least no one is around to see that.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    I lob the safe door onto James¡¯ corpse and explore my reward. The inside of the safe is full of valuables. There¡¯s a manilla envelope that I ignore for the time being, tossing it behind me onto the floor. Stacks on stacks of bands of cash fill the inside as well as several gold bricks. I spot a pair of silver wedding bands, a bag of small diamonds, and a cell phone. A secret phone, how scandalous of you, Mr. O¡¯Rourke. I scoop the money and diamonds into the bag. Now¡¯s not the best time to count it, and it¡¯ll be a surprise for Nobody when he wakes up. I turn the phone on and it has a biometric lock.

    ¡°For my next trick, I¡¯ll need an assistant,¡± I said to myself.

    ¡°What did you say?¡± Rorschach asked.

    ¡°Nothing, clear the comm line,¡± I said hastily. I forgot she was in my ear for a second.

    I approach James¡¯ headless body. He¡¯s like one of those headless horsemen. What were they called again? A didgeridoo? Nah, that isn¡¯t it. Is it a dhampir? No, that¡¯s a vampire. A Dullahan, that¡¯s the name. They¡¯re even Irish as well. I chuckle at my joke as I grab James¡¯ snapped wrist. One good tug pulls the hand off, and I press the thumb onto the screen. It unlocks the messages screen, and there is only one number saved. Scrolling through the messages, I see that James O¡¯Rourke has someone he answers to. Correction, someone he used to answer to because he¡¯s dead now.

    I hear a noise behind me as the boss wakes up. I drop Thing from the Addams family and the phone on the desk as I walk over to Nobody. Slowly, he turns over onto his side and holds his hand to his helmet. Whoever made it did a great job.

    ¡°Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey. Just kidding, all we got is three dead Irishmen and a fuckton of money. Man, this continental breakfast sucks,¡± I said happily.

    ¡°Did I get shot?¡± Nobody asked.

    ¡°Yes, thankfully, Mr. Kennedy made sure the top was dropped so I didn¡¯t have to clean you off the floor,¡± I joked.

    He doesn¡¯t respond to me; instead, he walks around the room examining everything. Nobody ignores the safe and zeroes in on the phone. He uses the severed hand to open it without a pause, quickly going over the messages. I give him space to do his thing, letting the boss work. He¡¯s not even asking about all the bodies or even the hand. The last thing he does is open the manilla folder I threw earlier. Inside, there are several large printed photos. He picks three of them and then puts a photo on top of each body. The picture he places where James¡¯ head should be is of a beautiful middle-aged Puerto Rican woman. The ones he puts on top of the guards are of two children who look to be related to the woman. One is of a girl about the age of eight, and the other is a boy younger than five. Who are the photos of?

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± I asked.

    ¡°The fact these pictures were inside the safe means they¡¯re important. The fact that the photos are taken without the subject¡¯s knowledge points to either obsession, leverage, or something else sinister. Based on the admittedly small sample size of the late James O¡¯Rourke¡¯s personality, I¡¯m betting these people are related to whoever is calling the shots. People like him cannot abide by being under someone else''s control. James believes, believed, he should be running things. The urge to destroy whoever had him under their thumb must have been unbearable. I''m trying to make it look like these pictures are related to the robbery and the murders. It will hopefully cover up our tracks a little bit,¡± Nobody said. ¡°Has anyone come to check on the situation here?¡±

    ¡°No one has gone down the hall since Mickey left. Wait, something is happening outside. Give me a minute,¡± Rorschach said into my ear.

    ¡°Rorschach said something is happening outside,¡± I said to Nobody.

    ¡°Did she say what?¡± He asked me.

    ¡°Rorschach, report. What¡¯s going on?¡± I said.

    ¡°Sorry, I was ducking out of sight. You two got to get the fuck out of there. A team of Capes just showed up: five younger-looking Capes and a chaperone. It must be a probationary Heroes¡¯ Union squad. Fully costumed, and two are flyers, no idea about powers or names,¡± she reported. ¡°How do you want to proceed?¡±

    <hr>

    NOBODY

    ¡°Hey boss, a team of Capes just showed up and are surrounding the building. Things are about to get messy,¡± Isaiah said to me.

    ¡°Ask Rorschach if there is a person dressed in a black latex suit and a girl in a hornet helmet,¡± I responded.

    He pauses before relaying my question to her. ¡°She said there is, but how the hell did you know that?¡±

    I tilt my head about forty-five degrees upward toward the power I¡¯m sensing. What the fuck are you doing here, Aubrey?

 Chapter 40 - Patience is a Virtue (I)

    Why the hell are Aubrey and Phoenix here? She was just in the hospital and should be resting and recuperating. I guess she ignored Jean-Luc¡¯s pleas, and Phoenix recruited her. After our run-in at the hospital, I used the database to look up Phoenix and learned a lot about them. They can create and manipulate a potent energy that resembles white flames. It is actually a form of radiation that is extremely destructive. The white flames use Phoenix¡¯s body as fuel and are so strong that using the power gradually disintegrates Phoenix¡¯s body to the point of complete and utter destruction. The secondary ability is where I believe their namesake comes from. Phoenix is able to possess a deceased body once they¡¯ve used up the current body they are inhabiting. Knowing how their power actually works changes them from an honorable Cape to a corpse-robbing Cowl. They are the first person I have ever run into whose power is probably impossible to take.

    Rorschach said there are six Capes in total. Aubrey and Phoenix cannot fly, which means there are four unidentified Capes to deal with. Lincoln Locke is out of commission, but that still leaves the drunk, the swordswoman, the lilac-skinned woman, Ciggs, Tuesday, and Isaiah. I am not worth much in a fight, and I would sooner take my helmet off and pretend to be a regular customer. Six versus six in terms of Nuevohumans, plus whatever forces the O¡¯Rourkes can bring, the odds aren¡¯t as stacked as I would like, but Rorschach may be able to help turn the tide. I relay the information I have on Phoenix, as well as what Aubrey should be capable of, to Rorschach and Isaiah. I am going to have to trust Isaiah completely; that¡¯s the only way that I can see us escaping. The issue is I cannot look weak or out of options. I need to present this in a way that makes it seem like I am testing him.

    ¡°Do you believe you can get us out of here?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It depends on a few things,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Like?¡± I motion for him to continue.

    ¡°Like acceptable losses on all sides. Getting out of here without anybody dying is next to impossible. Also, do you want to take everyone¡¯s powers? Both of them greatly affect our chances of success. I selfishly don¡¯t wanna leave without Ciggs'' ability, but I also understand the risks involved,¡± Isaiah answered.

    ¡°Everyone is expendable. I¡¯d like the option of taking abilities, but it would be idiotic to let greed cloud my decision-making. I agree with you about trying to take Ciggs¡¯ power at least, and the amount of money we¡¯ve just made is a bonus. Remember, we¡¯re only here for Nick¡¯s debt. It looks like that¡¯s already been settled,¡± I said, referencing the three dead bodies.

    ¡°Understood. It won¡¯t be pretty, and it¡¯s going to cause a mess, but I can get us out of here. Gonna need you to stay in here, though. You¡¯ve proven to be a bit of a bullet magnet. I don¡¯t like leaving you here alone, but it¡¯s the only way to guarantee the Capes don¡¯t see you,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Isaiah, you have not yet given me a reason to believe you will fail. I can stay here and go over our recent acquisitions,¡± I said, waving the man off.

    (Isaiah)

    Nobody takes the cash from the duffel bag to give me more space for weapons. I close the door behind me, gun drawn and expecting opposition. The hallway is empty and devoid of any guards. Pulling this off is going to be difficult. The bag has the smoke grenades and flashbangs I brought in, James O¡¯Rourke¡¯s large revolver, and one of the guards'' pump shotguns. I slowly open the door a crack, looking around at the situation. I see all the Cowls talking, along with the eight remaining O¡¯Rourke guards and Mickey. Slowly, I open the door and quietly enter into the room. Oh shit, I might have pieces of his dad still on my face. Quickly, I use a hoodie sleeve to wipe my entire head. As I approach the group, I hear a voice I don¡¯t recognize speaking into my ear as if they were right next to me.

    ¡°Surrender peacefully, and no harm will come to you. We have the building surrounded and enclosed. There is no chance of escape. You have five minutes until we enter. Put down your weapons, and everybody can leave in cop cars instead of ambulances,¡± said the female voice.

    ¡°Who the fuck was that? There aren¡¯t any Capes in Quinstin who can broadcast their voice like that,¡± the drunk said.

    ¡°Oh yeah, ''cause if the Slabman doesn¡¯t know who it is, they must be new,¡± the swordswoman said, mocking him.

    ¡°Oxxii, darling, don¡¯t start a fight while Capes are knocking at the door,¡± the lilac-skinned woman said.

    ¡°Listen, it¡¯s been a pleasure servin¡¯ you fine folks, but we don¡¯t want trouble with the Heroes¡¯ Union, so you all gotta leave,¡± Mickey said.

    The guards shift, all of their guns pointed at the floor but in the direction of the Cowls. I can use this to accomplish two tasks: establishing precedence and tying up loose ends. None of the O¡¯Rourkes are needed for his goals. A champagne bottle left on one of the tables rips through the air, cracking into the back of Mickey¡¯s skull. He crumples like a puppet with its strings cut, and the chick with the sword cuts two of the guards in half. I use the surprise of that to shoot three of the Irishmen in center mass. To their credit, the remaining O¡¯Rourkes don¡¯t back down and pull their guns up, ready to fire. Two of them fall to the floor, their throats slit open and gushing blood. Who did that? A quick look at Oxxii and her expression tells me she didn¡¯t do it either. Before the last gangster can react, I leap forward, punching him as hard as I can in the chest. I know that I¡¯m stronger, faster, and more resilient, but it still surprises me when his chest caves in on itself. His snapped ribs clutch my wrist like a Chinese finger trap until I yank it free with a loud squelch. While wiping my hand clean, I notice everyone is staring at me.

    ¡°Who are you, and why the fuck would you do that?¡± The Slabman asked me.

    I could use a codename or an alias to keep my identity a secret. ¡°Isaiah Jules,¡± I smiled.

    ¡°All I was guilty of was illegal gambling, and now you¡¯ve made me an accessory to fucking murder. I¡¯ve been to The Island, and repeat offenders go straight back for life. God, you¡¯ve fucked us all,¡± Slabman said.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t just me. She helped, and whichever one of you fine folks slit their throats,¡± I said cheerily, pointing at Oxxii.

    Rorschach starts to speak in my ear, but I fake a cough to silence her. It''s best if I keep our eye in the sky a secret.

    ¡°Are you not the one responsible?¡± Asked the purple woman.

    ¡°Nope. I¡¯m a highly capable man, but I¡¯m not capable of telekinetically slitting people¡¯s throats. I assumed it was you, Miss Lilac,¡± I said.

    ¡°My name is Amethyst, not Miss Lilac,¡± Amethyst said.

    ¡°Which is still purple,¡± I replied.

    ¡°Are you making jokes? We¡¯re surrounded by Capes, and when James O¡¯Rourke finds out you killed his son, he¡¯s going to freak the fuck out,¡± Ciggs said.

    ¡°Then it¡¯s a good thing I already killed him, too,¡± I said, flashing finger guns at the other Cowls.

    ¡°You¡¯re fucking tapped,¡± Oxxii laughed.

    ¡°You are a beast, a rabid animal. Give me one reason I should not put you down,¡± Amethyst said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you two; I have info about our guests upstairs, and you couldn¡¯t kill me if you tried,¡± I answered.

    Before I can even relax my smile, she¡¯s in my face, swinging. Her arm is covered in the dense purple energy that her outfit is made of. As the swing goes wide, I don¡¯t feel any heat from it, so the energy isn¡¯t hot. Plasma and fire are off the table. She puts her hands together, palms forward, focusing the purple energy until it blasts forward like a laser. I dodge the swing, but the laser slams me in the chest, propelling me backward into the bar. Glasses and bottles explode as I go barreling through everything. It hurts, but no more than when Vivienne hit me. The energy is purely concussive.

    I pat my clothes and chest to check for any lingering effects, but besides being soaked in booze, I¡¯m no worse for wear. At least it¡¯s only a cheap hoodie and jeans. Rolling over the bar counter in a lazy cartwheel, I throw a metal drink coaster like a shuriken at Amethyst. It whizzes through the air, flying at her head. Oxxii appears in front of Amethyst and blocks the coaster with her sword, exploding the coaster into pieces. So Amethyst isn¡¯t a Traveler or a Mentalist. Good to know. As I walk back, I can see Amethyst is looking at me differently. She thought that would put me down.

    ¡°Now that you¡¯ve gotten that out of your system, we can move on to the more pressing matters,¡± I said calmly.

    ¡°Who are you? I¡¯ve never seen or heard of you, and someone with your skills would¡¯ve been mentioned,¡± Slabman said.

    ¡°I already gave my name out of courtesy since I¡¯m not from around here, but don¡¯t mistake politeness for weakness. I said I have information, and I do. So maybe a little less questioning, a little more planning,¡± I said.

    ¡°Everybody just needs to chill the fuck out. Speak, Isaiah; tell us what you know,¡± Oxxii said.

    She is decisive, attractive, and knows her way around a sword; it''s a shame she¡¯s not interested in men.

    ¡°There are six Capes outside, and I have intel on two. One is a female Tinkerer wearing a bee-themed helmet that can breathe out paralytic smoke and fire off electrical shocks over a good distance. She may have added new additions to the helmet, but as of several weeks ago, that is all she had. The other Cape is known as Phoenix,¡± I said.

    ¡°PHOENIX IS HERE?¡± Slabman shouted.

    ¡°So you¡¯re aware of them?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Any Cowl who operates in Quinstin is aware of them. They¡¯re terrible to fight and impossible to put down. The only saving grace is that they¡¯ve switched over to ¡®teaching the next generation of heroes,¡¯¡± Oxxii mocked, making air quotes.

    ¡°He¡¯s also the one who sent me to that goddamned Island. Congrats, new guy; now I have a personal reason to get involved,¡± Slabman said.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Am I tripping, or does it sound like you guys are really considering fighting five-on-six against a Heroes¡¯ Union squad?¡± Ciggs exclaimed.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t a real Heroes¡¯ Union squad, Ciggs. It¡¯s one member and five probationary,¡± Amethyst said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care. I am not a criminal like the rest of you. I¡¯m not cool with murder and fighting Capes. I was only here to make some extra cash on the side,¡± Ciggs complained.

    ¡°Tell that to the old man you suffocated like thirty minutes ago,¡± Oxxii said snarkily.

    ¡°He shouldn¡¯t be dead. I only did enough to make him pass out,¡± Ciggs argued.

    ¡°He¡¯s well over fifty-five. You think prolonged smoke inhalation and oxygen deprivation is something he¡¯ll just walk off? You¡¯re just as culpable as the rest of us now. Believe me when I tell you the jury doesn¡¯t give a fuck that you didn¡¯t mean to,¡± Slabman said.

    ¡°He¡¯s right, you¡¯re the reason we don¡¯t have equal numbers to the Capes,¡± Oxxii said.

    ¡°Why does everyone keep saying five on six?¡± Rorschach said into my ear. ¡°There¡¯s six of you.¡±

    What? I rapidly scan my surroundings, ignoring the back and forth between the other Cowls. I don¡¯t notice anything; there aren¡¯t any odd shadows, and the blood on the ground doesn¡¯t seem to be pooling weirdly. It must be the woman Nobody warned me about. She must have slit those two guys¡¯ throats. He wasn¡¯t kidding about her being dangerous.

    ¡°It¡¯s rude to spy on people. Why don¡¯t you join the conversation, Miss Tuesday?¡± I said.

    ¡°What? Who is Tuesday?¡± Amethyst asked.

    To my right, a girl matching Nobody¡¯s description appears. She¡¯s got a gnarly scar up her face and a bedazzled bunny mask. Her outfit is a statement and not a good one. People who claim they¡¯re above fashion just don¡¯t understand it. I look over, and none of the others seem to recognize her, but that could be due to her power.

    ¡°So what¡¯s up, emo Easter Bunny? Do you feel like contributing to the strategy session?¡± I asked sarcastically.

    ¡°How long have you been here?¡± Amethyst demanded.

    ¡°And why were you hiding? Were you planning on slitting our throats as well?¡± Slabman asked.

    Her ugly long sleeves cover her hands, so I have to assume she¡¯s hiding her weapon in there. I get why Nobody was wary of her. Oxxii is quiet and watching Tuesday like a hawk. She doesn¡¯t trust the new girl. It is unlikely that anyone would respond positively to being spied on. As my eyes sweep over the group, I realize that Ciggs is the only one whose power I¡¯ve really seen in action. There¡¯s not a chance in hell they tell me shit.

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Whatever happened to girl power? We should be tearing down the patriarchy, not each other,¡± Tuesday deadpanned.

    ¡°Great, another fucking clown. Can we all please focus on the immediate concerns, such as the group of Capes above us,¡± Slabman replied.

    ¡°Slabman is correct. While I¡¯m a huge fan of group banter and verbal warfare, we have now wasted four of our five minutes and are no closer to a plan. We cannot stay down here like fish in a barrel, waiting for them to come to us. There is next to no cover, and they can bury us all in a prolonged fight. Besides Ciggs, I have no idea what the rest of you can do, but I can figure out a plan to get us all out of here. Decide now whether you are willing to listen to me,¡± I said.

    ¡°I can¡¯t trust a stranger, no matter how capable you appear. Oxxii and I will clear a path for everyone. You will have a moment to escape. Do not get in our way,¡± Amethyst said.

    ¡°Leave it to the ladies. We got this,¡± Oxxii said.

    The two of them walk away from the rest of us and head for the stairs. How did she get that sword down here? Slabman seems content to let them go, so there must be more to them than meets the eye. Tuesday is smiling, and Ciggs looks torn between following them and staying with us. How the hell am I going to get Nobody out of here if these people won¡¯t listen to me?

    ¡°You¡¯re out of time. One of them is coming down,¡± Rorshach said.

    A woman floats down to the bottom of the stairs, hovering in place. Her costume is entirely white with gold accents. The tight suit is a sleeveless one-piece that goes into gold knee-high boots and shows off a modest amount of cleavage. She has a hooded cape and a creepy white mask with tiny slits for eyes and a collection of holes near the mouth and nose. There is a giant gold V emblazoned on the mask, starting from around her temples and meeting down by the chin. Her short brown pixie cut shows off a pair of diamond studded earrings. Real diamonds. Fingerless gloves are colored the same gold as her boots and show off nails that are painted a light metallic turquoise. Who gets their nails done before going out to fight Cowls? She¡¯s toned and in shape in a way that shows she is rigid in training. She touches something on her mask and finally speaks.

    ¡°Nine bodies; it looks like it¡¯s the O¡¯Rourkes. Five people; I thought you said there were seven. It doesn¡¯t matter. Slabman, Oxxii, Amethyst, and two unknowns.¡± She turns to face us, still floating a few feet off the ground. ¡°I am Virtue, and you are all obviously under arrest, but now it¡¯s for murder. Please lay down any weapons you have and come with me. Or don¡¯t; I¡¯ve had a bad day, and I¡¯d love to work off some stress,¡± Virtue said, cracking her knuckles.

    Tuesday is nowhere to be found, and Ciggs takes this as his queue to dip. He transforms into a smokey spiral, blowing past Virtue.

    ¡°Smoke Alter coming up to you guys. All yours, Zephyr,¡± Virtue said, touching her mask again.

    A hurricane of violent wind comes rushing into the room, blowing all the furniture back and knocking everyone off their feet. Ciggs¡¯ smokey form comes blasting into the room again. The wind is so strong it¡¯s spreading the smoke cloud out, keeping him from being able to move. So Zephyr has wind powers of some kind. That¡¯s four of the six accounted for. Virtue floats closer to Oxxii and Amethyst, looking down on them.

    Oxxii and Amethyst look at each other, sending some kind of unspoken message. Oxxii appears to the left of Virtue, swinging her giant sword at the woman. How is she doing that? Simultaneously, Amethyst begins to glow as a thin film of her unique energy covers her body. She lifts off the ground and flies straight at Virtue just as Oxxii¡¯s attack connects with Virtue. Flying in from the right, she does a roundhouse kick at the Cape. Virtue blocks Oxxii¡¯s blade with her pinky and takes the kick from Amethyst to her ribs. She doesn¡¯t move despite floating in the air, and both Cowls retreat back immediately.

    ¡°Sorry, is that all you got? I know you two are C-listers. But I thought there¡¯d be; I don¡¯t know more?¡± Virtue said, rotating her wrist.

    Oh, that¡¯s not good. My instincts are screaming at me that she is extremely dangerous. Virtue is like Vivienne, a truly powerful monster¡ªtier four, at least. There is basically no chance that the six of us can take her down. I grab a flashbang from my bag and pull both pins on it, underhand tossing it toward the Cape. Oxxii spots my projectile and smiles. The flashbang seems to appear right in front of Virtue''s mask¡ªthe blindingly bright flash lights up the room. Virtue grunts in surprise, and Amethyst flies straight into her, spear-tackling her to the ground. The whole room shakes as the two Neuvohumans collide with the floor, cracking it and sending dust everywhere. Amethyst flies up to the ceiling, energy coalescing around her right foot. She drops, slamming her empowered foot into Virtue''s stomach. Oxxii seems to teleport toward the two of them as Virtue gets up, brushing dirt and debris off herself. Oxxii touches Amethyst, and the two of them shift fifteen feet back, avoiding Virtue¡¯s punch.

    ¡°Hey, we gotta do something. The two of them can¡¯t handle her alone,¡± I said to the two other Cowls.

    ¡°Let the females fight. You are worried for nothing,¡± Slabman laughed.

    ¡°No, I''m not. I can sense power levels in people. And my ability is telling me the Cape is holding back a ton,¡± I lied.

    ¡°Wait, really?¡± Ciggs asked nervously.

    ¡°Yes, and I have a feeling if we don¡¯t get involved, things are going to go tits up quickly.¡±

    ¡°What makes you say that?¡± Slabman asked.

    ¡°Tuesday dipped, so we¡¯re now five versus six. The way I see it, there are two possible options: either they sent their strongest in first to soften us up for the rest, or she¡¯s the weakest. Either way, we have to take down Virtue without any casualties or injuries if we¡¯re going to have any chance of beating the rest of them,¡± I explained.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± Ciggs exclaimed.

    ¡°Fuck is right. Tell me you at least have a plan,¡± Slabman said.

    ¡°I¡¯m betting her insides aren¡¯t as strong as her outside. Distract her long enough for Ciggs to fly into her lungs and make her pass out,¡± I answered.

    ¡°That¡¯s barely a plan, man, especially since she was able to blow me apart,¡± Ciggs argued.

    ¡°That wasn''t her. She called in backup,¡± Slabman said calmly. ¡°I noticed she has a communication device inside her mask. If we can get rid of the mask, we can cut her off from her team.¡±

    ¡°This is getting to be too much. I¡¯m not sure if I can handle this,¡± Ciggs said.

    ¡°Ciggs, I¡¯m not asking you for an opinion. I¡¯m telling you what you have to do,¡± I said, pointing my shotgun at him.

    His face remains neutral, but his eyes betray the anger beneath the surface.

    ¡°We need to attack her all at once. Ciggs and I can provide support, but Slabman, I don¡¯t know where to put you without knowing what you can do,¡± I said.

    ¡°Well, let me show ya,¡± he said.

    Slabman brushes himself off and runs over to where Oxxii and Amethyst are barely holding on against Virtue. His body shudders, skin rippling like a building in an earthquake. Slabman¡¯s form grows, his costume struggling to contain the bulging mess within it. Four arms burst out of his shoulder blades, and each of the hands¡¯ four fingers fuse into two. His skin becomes a stone-like substance similar to granite with spikey, deep blue crystals located at the joints. His lower body reminds me of a satyr but hairless and with the same crystal joints as his torso and arms. Nothing remains of his costume except for the portion covering his head and the ripped strands of fabric hanging off of it. His face is blank and featureless, reminding me of a mannequin. The strangest part of him isn¡¯t his anatomy; it¡¯s the eight weapons sticking out of his back made of the same material as his body. Swords, spears, axes, a mace, and even a spiked hammer are plunged into his skin, with red blood leaking from each of their handles. He¡¯s a giant humanoid but very clearly not a human. He¡¯s a Shifter like Vivienne, but he bleeds human blood. Nobody would love this power.

    Despite his size and stature, he¡¯s silent compared to the three women fighting. Each of his six arms reaches behind and rips a weapon out of his back. Virtue notices the giant''s running charge, but Amethyst and Oxxii prevent her from focusing on him. Oxxii baits a swing out of Virtue, and Amethyst wraps both arms around Virtue¡¯s arm, locking her in place. The Cape¡¯s face turns just in time for the spiked hammer to puncture her mask, sending her spinning through the air and crashing straight through tables, bottles, and chairs, scraping the floor down to the dirt.

    ¡°Now!¡± I shouted.

    Ciggs transforms, zooming through the air to where Virtue lies. Her mask is heavily damaged and missing a huge part of the center of it, exposing her nose, cheek, and one of her eyes. I run after him, double checking the shotgun is full, and start shooting at her prone body. The smoke cloud surrounding her twists down like a tornado forming, flowing into her nostrils and mouth. My bullets can¡¯t hurt Ciggs, but they might distract the Cape enough for him to finish the job.

    ¡°HOLD HER DOWN!¡± I screamed at the other Cowls.

    Oxxii responds first, appearing next to Virtue and pressing her sword against her throat. Slabman and Amethyst are slower but react accordingly, sprinting and flying over. Slabman stabs all of his weapons into the ground to create a makeshift prison to hold her down. All six of his arms hold her arms, shoulders, and torso, while Amethyst encases her arms in so much of her energy I can¡¯t see them and then grabs her legs. I am waiting back; there¡¯s nothing I can do to help at the moment. Ciggs¡¯ speed leaves a lot to be desired, and the Cape is hacking up a lung trying to get him out of her.

    The plan is working. Everyone is using leverage to keep Virtue down, and she can¡¯t shake off Amethyst and Slabman. As long as we take her out, we should be able to get out of here. The hammer destroyed her communicator, and her team should be wary of charging down here recklessly. Things are going well.

    ¡°Fuck this,¡± Virtue choked out.

    Tears are streaming down the Cape¡¯s face as her eyes glow blue. Cobalt lasers blast forward, burning the room as she sweeps her head around. Slabman takes the brunt of it, and his granite body glows red and smokes from the heat. In the chaos, Amethyst lets go. Virtue flings a leg out, sending the purple woman into the ceiling. Virtue continues lasering Slabman, forcing him to back off. As soon as both of them are off of her, she springs up, breaking the weapons and sweeping her blue heat vision across the room. Something is different from before. Virtue¡¯s face is beginning to change color from inhaling so much smoke, and it¡¯s causing her to be more ruthless. I need to grab Nobody and get out of here. Amethyst hits Virtue with an energy blast, causing her to stop attacking Slabman for a moment to deal with her. Amethyst creates an energy shield around herself, but Virtue blitzes through it, shattering it like glass. Amethyst cries out, falling to the ground, and Oxxii teleports to help her friend. Virtue squints her eyes, firing a thin beam into Oxxii¡¯s knee, causing her limb to fail as she attempts to lift her friend away. All the while, Ciggs¡¯ smoke cloud is trailing behind the incredibly fast Cape.

    I throw my second-to-last flashbang and then a smoke grenade. Turning around, I sprint away in the direction where Nobody is. It¡¯s a shame to lose Ciggs¡¯ power, but none of them matter. All that matters is getting him out. I push my body to the limit, traversing the room and hallway in less than thirty seconds. Whipping open the door, I find Nobody calmly counting the money.

    ¡°We gotta go. Shit is way more fucked than we thought. I failed, and I¡¯ll be honest, I don¡¯t see a way out,¡± I said, dropping the duffel bag.

    ¡°I can see that,¡± he said, pointing past me.

    ¡°What do we have here? You Cowls are like rats hiding in the dark,¡± Virtue said, floating behind me.

    Sheer dread flows down my back. I led her right to Nobody. The others couldn¡¯t keep her busy, and I don¡¯t see even a trace of smoke on her. They failed. Moving on instinct alone, I pivot in place and slam an uppercut into the Cape¡¯s jaw. She isn¡¯t expecting my enhanced strength and takes the punch instead of dodging. She hits the ceiling, and her mask is knocked loose, falling onto the ground. Virtue rubs her face, rotating her jaw a few times as she rises from the floor.

    ¡°So you are a Cowl, I figured as much. Your durability must be something else if your hand is fine after punching me. Good,¡± Virtue said.

    She hits me, and I don¡¯t even see which limb it was. One moment, I¡¯m staring her down, and then I¡¯m lodged in the wall with a throbbing ache in my ribs. Broken, not fucking good. Nobody hasn¡¯t moved from behind the desk, and I can only guess what he¡¯s thinking. I have to handle this woman somehow despite being so much weaker than her. She is still floating in the doorway,

    staring at me angrily. I try to climb out of the wall and she blasts me. My hoodie combusts, leaving me topless and smoking. My pecs are changing color, and my skin is slightly bubbling. So bullets are no problem, but heat vision is too much for my body to handle.

    ¡°Is there no possibility for diplomacy?¡± Nobody asked.

    Virtue stops, turning to look at the boss as if she hadn''t noticed him before.

    ¡°Diplomacy? Do you not see the headless corpse next to you? Or the two other bodies in the room? There are nine other dead people outside, granted they''re criminals, but still. Worse than that, I have been sneak attacked, shot at, and assaulted. I attempted diplomacy and got jumped like a gang initiation. So no, you weirdo, there is no ¡®possibility for diplomacy,¡¯ just ass-kicking. Sit there and wait your turn,¡± she said dismissively.

    I manage to push myself out of the wall, rolling onto the floor. My chest hurts like a motherfucker, but I push through it. I jump across the room next to Nobody and pick up James O¡¯Rourke¡¯s body. Virtue shoots another laser at me, and I block it with the dead Irishman¡¯s corpse. It isn¡¯t pretty, but it¡¯s what I got. Her face looks horrified at what I¡¯m doing, and I charge at her, using the body as a shield. I¡¯m desensitized to the smell of burning bodies, but Virtue can¡¯t say the same. I shoulder slam into her, squishing the corpse between us and covering us both in blood and viscera. Virtue screams, ceasing her flight and frantically wiping the gore off herself.

    ¡°Whatthefuck whatthefuck whatthefuck?¡± Virtue cried.

    Virtue crawls backward, freaking out. She tries to wipe away James¡¯ remains, but it only spreads it out. She isn¡¯t even looking in my direction anymore. I capitalize on her distraction, kicking her in the chest. She doesn¡¯t take any damage, and my kick only manages to knock her into the wall. My attack shakes her from her panic, and she retaliates immediately. She catches my foot, and it¡¯s like I got it caught in a beartrap. Slowly, she twists my leg in an attempt to subdue me. I jump up and follow along with the direction she¡¯s twisting to slam my boot into her face. My kick makes her drop me, and I dodge backward to avoid a punch. I crouch down and then spring forward to grab her wrist. I can¡¯t hold back anything. Her wrist is locked between my bicep and chest as I punch her in the face again and again. Flesh impacts flesh, but it¡¯s my hand that¡¯s being destroyed. I pull one of my pistols out and shoot her point-blank in the eye. The bullet crumples on impact, falling harmlessly to the floor.

    Virtue laughs in my face before ripping her arm free and slapping me in the head so hard my brain rattles. She¡¯s been holding back even more than I thought. An overhead chop strikes my blocking forearm, and it audibly snaps. She dashes closer into my space, attacking the shoulder of my broken arm. Punches that would knock a regular person¡¯s head clean off collide with my shoulder. The skin bruises as bones break until it hangs loosely. I could really use a hand. A gut punch hits me like a cannon, lifting me off my feet and slamming me into the ceiling. As I fall, she delivers a flying roundhouse kick with the force of a car crash. Before I can hit the wall, she speeds over to catch me by the throat. I can¡¯t even muster the strength to fight back.

    ¡°Do you know how hard it is to fight someone when you have to hold back constantly? It¡¯s so annoying when everyone around you is made out of wet paper. Even you can only be considered reinforced steel. Congratulations, you''re the first person besides my parents or Adversary to be able to take a punch. But the funs gotta end now; the Teach doesn¡¯t like us to dilly dally,¡± Virtue said.

    I cough, grasping at her hand around my neck.

    ¡°Oh, what¡¯s that? Sorry, are you having trouble breathing? I wonder what the fuck that¡¯s like,¡± Virtue said.

    My thoughts are growing cloudy, and my head is throbbing. I try to look at Nobody, but I can¡¯t even turn my head. My entire body aches, and my arm hangs limply at my side. Is this where my story ends? I always thought that if I were going to die by choking, it¡¯d be related to erotic asphyxiation.

    ¡°You need to get her closer to the ground. It¡¯s the only way I can save you,¡± said a voice I don¡¯t recognize.

    He came through for me. Nobody had a plan. I wrap my legs around Virtue, pulling her even closer to me, and I spit bloody saliva into her face. Her inexperience shows, and she recoils away. I feel my throat open up as air rushes into my lungs, and I grab one of her legs, pulling her to the ground with the last of my strength.

    ¡°Did you just spit in my face, you filthy creep?¡± Virtue asked incredulously.

    Before I can answer, Tuesday appears behind the Cape. One of her sleeves is rolled up, revealing a cache of knives attached to her arm. Called it. Tuesday¡¯s exposed hand is bleeding, and she hooks two fingers into Virtue¡¯s mouth from behind her. Virtue¡¯s surprised face contorts into one of disgust as her cheeks bulge. Suddenly, she¡¯s vomiting up her entire stomach contents onto the ground. The Cape retches as tears form and flow down her face. Virtue continues until all that¡¯s coming up is spittle and bile. What the hell did she do?

    ¡°Tada,¡± Tuesday said, twirling in place.

    ¡°Very well. You will have your compensation once we are out of here,¡± Nobody said.

    What the fuck are they talking about? I stumble in place; the beating I received is catching up with me quickly.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want the money anymore. After seeing how hard this lug was willing to go for you, my curiosity meter is off the charts. I want to amend our deal. I¡¯m going to secure our way out of here, and then I¡¯m going with you,¡± Tuesday said happily.

    ¡°Your terms are acceptable. Now, prove your claim, Tuesday,¡± he said.

    ¡°Sir, yes, sir,¡± Tuesday said, saluting.

    We both watch as she skips over to the messy, miserable Cape. Grabbing the other woman¡¯s face until her bunny mask is touching her, she stares into the other woman¡¯s eyes. Tuesday¡¯s lips are moving, but I can¡¯t hear anything. After a minute or two of prolonged eye contact, Virtue stops being sick and flies out of the room. Dust fills the air from the gust of her takeoff, but we¡¯re alone now.

    ¡°Don¡¯t pass out on us just yet, Isaiah. We¡¯re not free yet. Rorschach, have the car ready to go,¡± Nobody said to the inky butterfly perched on his finger.

    He starts to place everything back into the duffel bag. He tosses the O¡¯Rourke guns onto the ground and takes all the cash and gold bricks. Focus on staying awake; the mission ain¡¯t over. Tuesday leads us out of the office, and Nobody carries the bag himself. I doubt I could carry it at this point. Oxxii, Amethyst, and Slabman¡¯s Shifted form are all lying unconscious in the club. Each of them is battered and bloody. I probably look about the same or worse.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Tuesday asked.

    Nobody is crouched over a pile of rubble and moving it. The room is annihilated and doesn¡¯t even remotely resemble the club we entered. He ignores the woman and continues to pick through the pile until I see skin. Nobody removes his glove and places his hand against the man known as Ciggs. He¡¯s feigning checking for a pulse, but I know the boss¡¯ true motive. Tuesday looks on, confused, as Nobody brushes wood, dirt, and stone off the Cowl. All the while, he¡¯s maintaining skin contact and stealing the man¡¯s power. I don¡¯t know if we have time for this, but I¡¯m not going to tell him to stop.

    ¡°We can go,¡± Nobody said, shooting Ciggs in the head.

    ¡°Okeydokey,¡± Tuesday responded.

    The ceiling shakes as we climb the staircase back to the surface. Each step is agony, but I push on. I hear voices overlapping ahead. Screams, shouts, and explosions ring out. Are we walking into an urban warzone? Tuesday abruptly stops when we¡¯re a few feet from the exit.

    ¡°I should warn you both that what I did to Virtue will not protect us once we¡¯re out there. She sees everyone as an enemy currently. So it¡¯ll be a teensy bit difficult to get to wherever we¡¯re going,¡± she said.

    ¡°That won¡¯t be an issue. I will lead the way from here,¡± Nobody said.

    He reaches into the duffel and removes the final two smoke grenades. Another one of Rorschach¡¯s butterflies comes down toward us, hovering in front of him. My communicator broke during the fight. He pulls the pin on the first grenade and tosses it near the entrance to cover our exit. He immediately moves after it goes off, and Tuesday and I follow him. I can¡¯t see anything due to the thick cloud of smoke, but I hear fighting and pleas for Virtue to stop. Tuesday did a real number on her. Virtue screams, and I hear thuds accompanied by metal being crushed. Nobody pulls the pin on the second grenade and throws it away from us toward the sounds of fighting. A distraction or misdirection? We trudge on, sneaking away as we round the corner of the bar. We¡¯re out of the smoke now, and I see my car parked with Rorschach in the driver¡¯s seat. Thank fuck, my car is okay.

    ¡°Shotgun,¡± Tuesday said.

    Nobody puts my good arm around his shoulder and carries me along the alley. He helps me into the backseat and joins me back there. Tuesday is in the front seat, fiddling with the window. As soon as we¡¯re all inside the car, Rorschach peels out, speeding away. I finally give in to the exhaustion and pass out.

 Chapter 41 - See You Next Tuesday

    Isaiah needs medical attention, but it will have to wait. We can only leave Quinstin once the primary objective has been secured. The tagalong proved her worth, but I would prefer not to have her with us. She is someone who could easily find out my identity without me knowing. I don¡¯t have much time to plan, so I¡¯m going into my meeting with Nicholas winging it. We pull into Nicholas¡¯ apartment garage, and I have to make a decision quickly. Isaiah cannot come with me; the man is mangled. Rorschach will never allow Tuesday to stay with him, and I have to go to Nicholas. I am going to have to bring Tuesday.

    ¡°Rorschach, you stay here with Isaiah. Tuesday will accompany me to the meeting. Listen and observe only. You said you wanted to understand why he went so far for me; well, this will be a glimpse,¡± I said.

    ¡°I live to serve the emperor!¡± Tuesday said, her voice changing to sound like a gruff military man.

    She is definitely a perception-altering Mentalist of some kind. I ignore her and step out of the car, with Tuesday following right behind me.

    ¡°Nobody, this better not take too long. Scaly needs help from the doc soon. I refuse to be the last one standing out of our old crew,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°I will not be long. The final piece is soon to be in hand, and then we can go back. Isaiah is much tougher than he used to be, and we have enough time. Take a look in the bag. I¡¯m sure its contents will cheer you up,¡± I replied, tossing it to her.

    ¡°Nick¡¯s still up there, by the way. He hasn¡¯t moved since you left. Oooh, you weren¡¯t kidding,¡± Rorschach said, going through the bag.

    It¡¯s late, and I am growing tired. I check the time as we reach the elevator, and it¡¯s nearly four thirty. This is the longest I have ever gone wearing the helmet, and I am starting to miss fresh air. As soon as I put the phone back into my pocket, it rings. It¡¯s a burner phone, and only four people have the number. There is no contact name, just a phone number. Who would be calling me this late? Could this be Vivienne? I hold my hand up to stop Tuesday from entering the elevator, and I answer the call.

    ¡°Who is this, and how did you get this number?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Jesus Christ, did you dial Satan by mistake?¡± A woman asked.

    ¡°No, I dialed the exact number she gave us,¡± said a younger-sounding male voice.

    ¡°Excuse me for not expecting the scary demon choir from the eighth circle to answer. It¡¯s easier to believe you fucked up than Miss V giving us the Devil¡¯s number,¡± the female voice responded.

    ¡°Why the hell not? She is terrifying and looks like a demon.¡±

    ¡°God, you can be such a pussy,¡± the female voice said.

    ¡°Both of you shut up and quit bickering. You mentioned Miss V giving you this number. Why would V give you this number?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Right before she got arrested, she gave us this number and said to call it if she wasn¡¯t out in six hours,¡± the female voice answered.

    ¡°And to introduce ourselves too. I¡¯m Goblin, and Casper is with me,¡± Goblin said.

    I take a breath as my mind races to process the information I¡¯ve been given. Vivienne got arrested, and these are the two goons she told me about. My string of good luck and successes finally caught up to me. Isaiah is in a semicritical condition, and now Vivienne is in custody. My two most valuable minions and perhaps the only two people I could care about are both out of commission. I look over at Tuesday, an unpleasant idea solidifying in my brain.

    ¡°I am aware of who you two are. I have three questions: where is V being held? Where are the drugs, and where is the money?¡±

    ¡°Miss V is being held at Breeton Police Station. We have the drugs, and we still have the cash we were going to give to her. As soon as the cops showed up, she surrendered, and she told us to take off with everything,¡± Goblin answered.

    They have no proof that she was there to sell, which is very good. I can solve this without needing to conflict with the police directly. Using Curtis¡¯ file, I can have them release her.

    ¡°It seems her assumption of you both was correct; you are both indeed capable of critical thinking. You have done well to contact me. I will take care of it from here, and V will get in touch with you once she is out,¡± I said, hanging up.

    ¡°Trouble in paradise?¡± Tuesday teased.

    ¡°A minor setback, but it seems I will require your unique skillset again,¡± I said.

    ¡°I give my body and soul to the cause,¡± she responded, still using that gruff male voice.

    I don¡¯t rise to the obvious bait and get in the elevator. Pressing the button for the penthouse, I prepare myself for the conversation with Nicholas. I can afford to be more heavy-handed now. He hasn¡¯t just been freed from his debt; his debt has been erased. He will join, or he will die. Tuesday switches her voice back to the sing-songy quality before she speaks to me.

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you agreed to let me come with you guys. I mostly said it on a whim, thinking you¡¯d refuse immediately,¡± she said, pausing. ¡°That or I thought you¡¯d just shoot me in the head as soon as we got away from the bar.¡±

    ¡°Violence is a tool best used sparingly. Abraham Maslow once said, ¡®If the only tool you have is a hammer, you tend to see every problem as a nail.¡¯ I find that I agree with his philosophy. If I resort to murdering every single person I run across, all I¡¯ll have is enemies and corpses.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but doesn¡¯t it feel good to squish some bugs? To look into another¡¯s eyes and know in your heart and mind that you hold the weight of the choice of whether they live or die. To get to play God for a moment. There¡¯s something romantic about it, dontcha think?¡± Tuesday asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m beginning to believe you may be a psychopath, Tuesday,¡± I said casually.

    ¡°Ugh. Don¡¯t tell me you hate girls like that. And here I thought I¡¯d found Mr. Right,¡± Tuesday said.

    ¡°I do not have any particular feelings for anyone,¡± I reluctantly answered. Damn it, Offset. The compulsive honesty continues to seep through.

    The lobby is the same as we left it. After the night I had, I half expected it to be filled with police or Capes. If Mr. Holmes cannot agree to my terms, I will let Tuesday have him. Knocking twice, we both wait for the man of the house to answer. Nicholas Holmes opens the door and is clearly high. He has wide, dilated pupils with reddened irises and a focused look on his face as he stares at us.

    ¡°Nobody, what are you doing back here? And who is that? They don¡¯t look like the guy from before.¡± Nicholas said.

    ¡°It is a bit rude not to invite us inside,¡± I said.

    ¡°Sorry, come on in,¡± he said apologetically.

    We walk in, and the three of us take a seat in his white living room. Tuesday has remained silent since we exited the elevator, and I appreciate her discretion. I notice a coke mirror on the coffee table, with some of the substance still on it. Why are half of all people I meet as Nobody addicted to something? I¡¯m aware of the correlation between crime and drugs, but it still doesn¡¯t make sense to me.

    ¡°So, what brings you back here?¡± Nicholas asked nervously.

    ¡°The matter of your debt has been settled.¡±

    ¡°Wait, already? You only left a couple of hours ago.¡± He said, surprised.

    ¡°As I told you before, Mr. Holmes, I am a professional. There were some complications during the negotiations that will affect our previous deal, however.¡±

    ¡°What, uhh, kind of complications?¡± Nicholas asked, wiping his nose on his arm.

    ¡°The O¡¯Rourke crime family is no more. Due to the trouble I had to go through, I will be changing the terms of our agreement. I will continue to pay you for your services, but you will be giving me the friends and family discount. Fifty percent off should suffice. Now, since I have inadvertently affected your ability to procure illicit substances, and I doubt you are interested in sobriety, I will put you in touch with a new dealer soon. This new dealer will be more professional and reliable, catering to high society type instead of whores and bastards. The product is pure and uncut, safer for you. I¡¯d hate for you to overdose on fentanyl or some other mix accidentally,¡± I said.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°Wait, slow your roll, man. Fifty percent off? Are you out of your fucking mind? I can¡¯t agree to that shit,¡± Nicholas argued.

    ¡°Nicholas. It has been a long night for me, and you are not even the last stop I have to make. I am not asking you for your opinion on the matter, and this is not a negotiation. I am informing you of what will happen. A good amount of men died tonight; what is one more?¡±

    ¡°Are you threatening me?¡± He asked.

    ¡°No. I am not threatening you; I am presenting you with consequences. Do I have to remind you of the position you were in before meeting me? You are a gambling addict with a reliance on drugs. Do you think your firm would overlook that? I am your only way forward, Nicholas. I am not the noose around your neck; I am the rope you will use to climb out of the hole you find yourself in. Think, Mr. Holmes, I am not asking you to commit crimes or defend criminals. I am not even asking for you to work for free. I am only asking you to do your legal job as a lawyer. In exchange all of your secrets get buried along with everyone who has known about them. After tonight, nobody will know about your vices,¡± I said.

    ¡°You expect me to believe that you won¡¯t use it against me? I¡¯m not stupid, Nobody. I know better than to accept a deal without knowing the fine print. And getting into bed with a violent Cowl is way worse than a gambling addiction or a drug problem,¡± Nicholas argued.

    ¡°Tuesday, hurt him,¡± I commanded.

    Tuesday leaps out of her chair, landing on Nicholas¡¯ lap.

    ¡°Avoid the face and hands. He has work in the morning,¡± I said.

    ¡°What? Get the fuck off of me, bitch,¡± Nicholas said.

    Tuesday rips his shirt off and pulls a scalpel out from her sleeve. She caresses his chest with the small bladed instrument. The lawyer is panicking as the drugs make a scary situation even scarier. She wraps the ripped shirt around his mouth, gagging him as she continues to straddle the man. She looks into his eyes, and he begins to shake and scream from whatever she¡¯s doing. The downside of having an entire floor to yourself is that no one can hear you scream for help.

    Nicholas is not having a good time. I wonder what she is showing him. She has his arms pinned under her legs, and he can¡¯t move. Tuesday drags her finger down his chest, and his whole body freezes up. He whimpers quietly at her touch as she presses the tip into the center of his left pectoral. The small blade parts his flesh as he continues to struggle. She¡¯s carving bad boy into his chest. He starts to buck in place, moving his groin up and down. His eyes roll as his head falls against the couch. Nicholas¡¯ body shudders as she finishes carving the letter Y into his chest. Tuesday gets off his lap, and I see the stain on his underwear. She blows a kiss at Nicholas and then bows toward me. Her face is inscrutable due to the rabbit mask.

    ¡°What did you do to him?¡±

    ¡°First, I brought his nightmares to life and made him feel like he was on fire, burning alive. Then I gave him a nice little fantasy,¡± she said with a chipper tone. ¡°I could show you if you wanna take the helmet off.¡±

    ¡°How long will it last?¡± I asked her.

    ¡°I could make it last forever if you want,¡± she answered, grinning.

    ¡°Enough. How long will he be affected?¡±

    ¡°I can stop it whenever you want me to.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like to see if he¡¯s changed his mind,¡± I said.

    ¡°Gotcha,¡± she said.

    As soon as the words leave her lips, Nicholas stops moving. He shakily pulls the shirt from around his mouth, looking at her, then me, and then at the cuts in his chest. His hand comes away bloody. No one speaks, but Nicholas flinches. Every movement is jagged and shaky as he struggles to process what happened.

    ¡°What the fuck was that? What the hell did you do?¡± He choked out.

    ¡°Besides awakening a pain kink and the best orgasm of your life?¡± Tuesday asked.

    Nicholas looks tired, like he¡¯s aged a decade in a single night.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure once you sober up and have a good rest, you will realize the benefits of our new partnership. Have a good night, Mr. Holmes. I will be in touch,¡± I said, leaving the lawyer alone in his apartment.

    Tuesday remains mute until we reach the garage.

    ¡°Holy hell, that was incredible. I feel like a sexier Mother Theresa, dispensing care to the needy,¡± Tuesday exclaimed. ¡°Oh shoot, I forgot to leave my number. Maybe I¡¯ll go back up and teach him another lesson.¡±

    My earlier read of her sadistic nature was correct. She seems to be aroused at even the possibility of violence. Why do I attract unstable women?

    ¡°You will not. If he doesn¡¯t learn from this experience, then I will throw him off this building,¡± I said.

    ¡°But what about what you said before about hammers and nails?¡±

    ¡°Nicholas believed that this was a negotiation between two equal, civilized parties, but it was never that. From the moment we met, no, even before that. There were only ever two choices. Join or die. What he picked didn¡¯t matter to me,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Join or die? How very magnanimous, my king, to allow the peasants the opportunity to choose whether they starve or serve,¡± she said, her voice taking on a French aristocratic accent. ¡°So is that to be this one¡¯s fate? Murdered before her prime, but a caterpillar midway through her chrysalis doomed never to enter center stage in the Broadway production of life.¡±

    We step out of the elevator into the dark garage, and I turn to face her. This is a moment in time that I may look back on and regret.

    ¡°No, I will not force you to make a similar choice. You said you wanted to go with us to discover why Isaiah went as far as he did, and you have been given a taste, but the free tour ends here. Either you join me as the others have or we go our separate ways. But be warned, this is not a decision you make lightly. Once you¡¯re in, the only way out is in a body bag. What will you do, Tuesday?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Listen, if you ask anyone about Tuesday, they¡¯ll tell you three things. That I got a dumper you can a bounce a quarter off of, and that I am a creature of boundless id. I go where my urges take me; I¡¯m in, baby,¡± Tuesday said, her voice back to normal.

    ¡°That¡¯s only two things. What¡¯s the other one?¡± I asked.

    ¡°The third thing they¡¯ll tell you about Tuesday,¡± she said, leaning in. ¡°Is that it¡¯s the second day of the week.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re insane,¡± I said.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m Tuesday.¡±

    I disregard her poor excuse for comedy and hold out my bare hand. ¡°Then take my hand, and we¡¯ll officialize it,¡± I said.

    She rolls her long sleeve up and presents her hand to me. I take it and activate my power. Her hand is soft and cold against mine. Her face is blank and expressionless as we stand in the garage facing each other. Vivienne showed me that people are unaware of what my power is doing until it has finished. Tuesday will not know what I can do until I have done it, and from that point on, she will never sneak up on me again. The five-minute mark ends, and I release her hand to walk toward the car. She goes to speak but realizes her power is gone and closes her mouth.

    ¡°We are all set, Rorschach. It''s time to go home,¡± I said as the two of us got in the car.

    ¡°How long?¡± Tuesday grumbled from the front seat.

    I ignore her, looking within myself to find Ciggs and Tuesday¡¯s powers. Her voice is high, even for a woman. I was correct about her being a Mentalist/Manipulator type. She is able to completely overwhelm and control another person¡¯s senses as long as she has directly interacted with the specific sense. Direct eye contact allows for her to fool your eyes, the same goes for smelling her, hearing her, touching her, and tasting as well. That explains what she did to Virtue with the fingers in her mouth. My helmet inadvertently protects me from two of her sensory effects. Her personality piece is an extreme case of sadomasochism¡ªanother aspect I want nowhere near me.

    ¡°Finally. He¡¯s one tough motherfucker, but I¡¯ve never seen him this hurt,¡± Rorschach said.

    Ciggs is an Alter/Traveler type. He is capable of changing any part of himself into smoke he can control. He can change a single part of himself and it does not affect the rest of his body negatively. An evolutionary aspect of Neuvohumans that prevents their powers from indirectly or accidentally harming themselves via usage. A Traveler with superspeed has the same durability as a regular person, but their power prevents the g forces from pulping them when they stop. Ciggs was still able to see while in his cloud form despite having no sensory organs. His smoke cannot exert more force than is present with his mass, meaning he could not have rained down punches as a smoke cloud. And as a personality piece, the urge to test yourself against others constantly. That will work well with Isaiah¡¯s personality anyway.

    ¡°To answer your question, Tuesday, until I choose to give it back,¡± I said.

    ¡°That should be impossible. Nobody can do that. Ahhh, I walked into that one. No wonder my secret sensor was going haywire. Talk about a monumental secret. You can depower people forever. You might be the most dangerous and important person in the whole state,¡± Tuesday gushed in her normal voice.

    ¡°Jesus, girl, you want me to hold your hair back while you suck him off?¡± Rorschach said jokingly.

    ¡°Oh, wouldya? That would be so helpful,¡± Tuesday deadpanned.

    ¡°As your senior, nothing would bring me more joy than to help you navigate the complexities of our ragtag group,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be in your impeccably maintained hands. I look forward to passing the Bechdel Test with you.¡±

    I place a finger against the nape of Tuesday¡¯s neck and begin the transfer. As soon as Tuesday''s power is back with its rightful owner, I tune the two women out. We will not be back at base until six am. Then, I still have to pay a visit to the police chief to get Vivienne released. This is like the docks all over again.

    <hr>

    We pull up to the side of the warehouse as the sun is slowly peeking out. The faint orange light covers the dilapidated docks and worn-down warehouses in a warm glow. A faint breeze of cool summer air makes me want to take my helmet off. I texted Kai on the way that Isaiah was in need of immediate surgery, so we waste no time getting out of the car. Tuesday looks around confusedly while Rorschach lugs the heavy duffel bag, and I wake Isaiah up. I help him out of the car, and we slowly make our way to the door that opens up for us.

    Four insectoid drones push past Rorschach and rush over to me. They have flat hexagonal plates on the top of them with six long legs ending in sharp points. They each have a long segmented tail similar to a scorpion¡¯s tail but with a syringe at the end of it. Two of the syringe-tails are empty and the other two each have a different fluid within it. One is a clear liquid, and the other is a faintly caustic brown. The four drones combine to form a moving stretcher with the legs combining to form stronger limbs and a metal band to hold Isaiah in place. The empty syringe attempts to puncture his skin but breaks immediately, so the other empty one uses a leaking gash on his chest to draw blood. We follow along as the drone table quickly moves through the base. The clear liquid is injected into his mouth, and the brown goes into the chest wound.

    ¡°You cannot follow us from here. Rorschach, show Tuesday the conference room and take a look at our haul. I need a complete and detailed list of what we are looking at. Remember, we are not in desperate need of liquidity, but having some money to move around will help,¡± I said.

    The two women split off from us as the drone table crawls down the staircase, utilizing the walls to move quicker. I am absolutely telling him to put in an elevator. This is ridiculously inefficient for would-be patients. The drones make it to the lab before I do. There is no point in me rushing down there; Isaiah is in the doctor¡¯s capable hands now. When I enter the lab, Kai is racing around. His multi-appendaged prosthetic furiously taps away at a tablet while Isaiah goes through some sort of MRI-type machine. The free-hanging rings go across his entire body, scanning with hundreds of small blue sensors. A 3D image of Isaiah¡¯s body is projected on one of the larger screens.

    ¡°What is his power? I know he¡¯s a Bruiser, but I need specifics. I don¡¯t want to lose any more equipment because it breaks after contact with him,¡± Kai said commandingly.

    ¡°Bruiser with enhanced physiology and anatomy. He is four times faster, stronger, and more durable than he was before the ability. His body is four times as effective in its maintenance and upkeep as well. He requires a quarter of the sleep and nutrients than an average person,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Good, that¡¯s good. Means his natural healing factor should be multiplicatively affected, too. As long as I can fix the more immediate problems, he should be able to heal the rest on his own. What did you guys fight that left him like this?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°A Cape named Virtue. She took on six Cowls at the same time and left Isaiah in the state you see,¡± I said.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard the name, but at least she¡¯s gone,¡± Kai said, continuing to work.

    ¡°She is still alive and well. We did not defeat her or even manage to harm her. I believe the only one who could hold her to a standstill would be Vivienne, and even that might not hold true. Do you have this handled? I have more to do,¡± I said.

    ¡°The patient is not in a critical condition. I was most worried about possible brain damage, but the scans showed no signs of it. Instead, it¡¯s mostly third-degree burning and all the damage to his arm. His ulna and radius are snapped clean, and his shoulder¡¯s cartilage and tendons are shredded to bits. His rotator cuff is torn, and several ribs are completely broken off. But all of this is fixable and won¡¯t require any of my more limited resources,¡± Kai said, not bothering to look at me.

    ¡°Then I leave Isaiah in your care, doctor.¡±

    ¡°Oh, before I forget, there was something else regarding our participants,¡± Kai remarked offhandedly.

    ¡°What is it? What happened?¡± I can still sense the powers, so they should still be alive.

    ¡°The homeless subject, the powers you gave her seem to have somehow combined,¡± Kai said.

    What did he just say?

 Chapter 42 - Jailbreak

    The implications of what Kai just told me are incredible. It also paints an even bigger target on my back. Is the phenomenon unique to the woman we captured? What does the combination look like? Are the original powers permanently fused, or can I extract one of them? I have far too many questions, and I will only be able to get answers once I get V back. All I can do right now is finish righting the ship.

    Rorschach and Tuesday are in the conference room, with the former sitting down gleefully counting the cash. The five gold bars are stacked up, and the diamonds are spread out in front of Rorschach. She¡¯s mixing the bank money with the O¡¯Rourke cash, creating stacks of five thousand dollars. For the first time since meeting her, Rorschach looks happy. I do not know anything about her, her name, address, likes, or dislikes. There is not a single member of this group who I know anything about beyond their role in my plan and their base desires. Even Vivienne, the person closest to me, is a stranger beyond her surface-level interests. Once freed from my responsibilities of acting human, it slips my mind to pretend to care. Tuesday is standing, looking over the base through the one-way mirror. The money doesn¡¯t seem to catch her attention in the slightest. She¡¯s much more focused on the base itself.

    ¡°How¡¯s it looking, Rorschach?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Absolutely wonderful. I¡¯ve never seen so much wealth in one place. I mean, these bars are worth four hundred and fifty thousand if we sell it to the right people,¡± she said.

    ¡°Four hundred and fifty thousand? That doesn¡¯t make any sense,¡± I objected.

    ¡°The price of gold has risen steadily ever since Tinkerers first emerged. They use it for its conductivity, and that¡¯s made the price skyrocket. The real crime is the fact I can¡¯t get a pair of gold earrings for less than three hundred because of the braniacs buying it all up. It¡¯s bullshit,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°You know, I figured I was joining a group that was struggling, given how we met. But you guys are actually thriving. I mean, this base alone is incredible, and you¡¯ve got robots, like actual little robot guys that can do stuff,¡± Tuesday said.

    ¡°I never said we were struggling. You came to that conclusion on your own,¡± I said.

    ¡°Combining the cash from Isaiah¡¯s heist, the Irish infusion, the coke money, and the gold, we are looking at around two point three million dollars. I know a fence that should be able to handle the gold, but the diamonds will be tougher to sell,¡± Rorschach said.

    Two point three million dollars is quite a sum. I can use it to purchase a small business or two in Quinstin. Things are trending in the right direction. Once Vivienne is back, I can dive into the experiments with Kai in full force. I may be mistaken, but I believe I am happy.

    ¡°Keep the diamonds for yourself, Rorschach; think of this as your signing bonus. I do require something from you. The Breeton police have arrested V, so I want your eyes all over that building. Tuesday and I will have to pay a visit to the Breeton Police Chief,¡± I said.

    ¡°Well, jeez, they say diamonds are a girl''s best friend, but you might be a close second. But how on earth did they even get her? I¡¯m surprised she went down without a fight,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°Being captured without revealing her power shows her intelligence and restraint. She knows that transforming would only have hurt my goals and our organization. V did the correct thing, and as the leader, it is my responsibility to ensure her release. Rewarding compliance and forward-thinking is only right,¡± I said.

    ¡°So we¡¯re taking on the police next? I know I asked for excitement, but it¡¯s nearly six am,¡± Tuesday said.

    ¡°We just have to finish this, and this eventful night will finally be over. Sleep will be for after we have put out this last fire,¡± I said.

    ¡°Alright, what¡¯s the plan? You going to wait at his house until he gets home and then ambush him?¡± Rorschach asked me.

    ¡°No, thanks to our newest recruit, we can visit him at his job,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Uhhh, are you sure, Nobody? That seems wicked ballsy,¡± she said hesitantly.

    ¡°I have calculated the risks, and we will be fine. After taking on Cowls and Capes, a few regular police are nothing. My helmet prevents me from being seen by technology and Tuesday can handle herself. We are more than enough to handle some cops,¡± I said.

    ¡°Okay. I got some ink in my car, so I¡¯ll grab that and then send out some critters,¡± she said, walking out of the room.

    Once I can¡¯t hear the sound of Rorschach¡¯s shoes on the steel stairs, I glance over at Tuesday. She is the first one I have collected that is truly a monster. Isaiah is a trained hound, but this is me letting a fox into the henhouse. Playing with fire does not do this justice. I believe that I am capable of controlling her, but that could be bleeding over from the pieces inside of me. I have five weeks left until I leave for Quinstin and only six until classes start. I do not have the time to waste carefully vetting her. I will have to do it on the fly.

    ¡°What do you hope to gain out of all of this?¡± I asked her.

    ¡°What do you mean? I¡¯m here to have fun.¡±

    ¡°Sit down and answer my question,¡± I said, taking my seat at the head of the conference table.

    ¡°Oooh, you¡¯re being commanding again. Meow, mister,¡± she purred, continuing to stand.

    ¡°Tuesday, I am not in the mood for this. Have a seat,¡± I said.

    ¡°Alrighty, but don¡¯t you go tellin¡¯ nobody about this, Nobody. If people find out I can be reasoned with, well, then ya girl loses a little of her Jenny say kwah,¡± she said, this time using an old-timey radio voice.

    She does not stop. This almost makes me long for the days when I used to pretend to care about my friend¡¯s problems.

    ¡°What do you want? You claim to be someone who acts on whims, but there must be something else motivating you beyond a love of chaos.¡±

    She answered after a moment. ¡°I want to hurt people. I want to be the last thing they see before death. There¡¯s something euphoric about harming another person, about being reduced to hunter and hunted. It¡¯s delicious; honestly, it¡¯s better than sex. I¡¯m a simple girl, Nobody. I just wanna fuck and kill,¡± Tuesday said.

    She is a psychopathic serial killer, a complete and utter monster. Am I making the world worse just by letting her live? Maybe one day, I will have a personality piece that makes me regret this, but not yet. Callback¡¯s compassion does nothing to temper my profound selfishness. There is no line I would not cross to accomplish my goals. Tuesday is like a lion or a bear; she cannot be domesticated, but I can steer her impulses toward helping me.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯ll have to find your own people to fuck, but I can certainly provide you with targets to kill. What you saw tonight is not the norm for us, but it will only get more dangerous and exciting. My goals will eventually put me at odds with everyone in Quinstin: cops, Capes, Cowls, government officials, the BNA, and the Heroes¡¯ Union. And some of those can only be solved by a knife to the throat. You get the same deal as the others: equal equity in what we¡¯re building as long as you follow my orders and rules. I won¡¯t ask you to do anything you wouldn¡¯t naturally do,¡± I said.

    ¡°I already told you I was in, but what kind of rules are we talking about?¡± Tuesday asked, her voice returning to the musical, singsongy tone from when we first met.

    ¡°We don¡¯t hurt kids. The woman you are helping me free will cook you alive if you violate this,¡± I said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t stab babies. Got it! Next?¡±

    ¡°Anonymity is paramount to our success. I do not exist, and neither does my ability. Out there during jobs and missions, there is no leader of this group. This is a company I am building, and that means a certain level of decorum and professionalism for everyone. I promise you that there will be plenty of opportunities for you to hurt and murder people,¡± I said.

    ¡°All sounds good to me, boss,¡± she said.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s go. I¡¯ll explain the plan on the way there,¡± I said.

    <hr>

    Breeton Police Station is a two-story gray and black stone building with single-pane windows. Everything has hard edges and is made out of a bunch of rectangles slapped together. Daniel would say this is an unfriendly design. The place is oppressively authoritarian. It looks similar to a prison more than a police station. Five squad cars are parked behind the barbed wire steel gate that doubles as the impound lot. Tuesday and I took Isaiah¡¯s car, and I¡¯m sitting in the backseat while we wait for Rorschach to give us the update. We¡¯re across the street from the station, parked underneath the shade of some trees. The street is empty; the police station isn¡¯t located near any of the main roads in Breeton.

    Before we left, I took the opportunity to remove my helmet and put a communication device in my ear. Having the helmet on for too long is going to give me claustrophobia. Having the device inside my helmet means my voice is revealed to both women, but it is the price of doing business. I cannot rely on other people to communicate with Rorschach. Once we have Vivienne back, I am going home to sleep for a day. I am deeply exhausted and have been awake for over twenty-four hours. Isaiah should be stable by then, and I can focus on experimenting on our volunteers.

    ¡°I got my eyes and ears all over the place,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°What are we looking at?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It is early enough that there are only eight bodies in the building. There¡¯s the Chief in his office, two clerks manning the front desk, three patrol officers, and two detectives. V is being held in the basement with the other people awaiting sentencing,¡± Rorschach answered directly into my ear. That is incredibly handy.

    ¡°You¡¯re clear on the plan, right?¡± I asked Tuesday.

    ¡°Yep, go in and pretend to need to talk to a detective. Use my power on everybody. Don¡¯t kill or maim anybody. Once I¡¯m done, you will go do your thing with the Chief and then we free this V lady and get out of there,¡± she answered.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    So she can take things seriously. Good.

    ¡°Your voice is different than I imagined,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to describe, but I guess I¡¯d say that it is softer than I imagined,¡± she said.

    ¡°No, I know what you mean. He sounds normal, like just a regular guy,¡± Tuesday said.

    ¡°Exactly. I figured the motherfucker who stared down a group of five Cowls would sound more badass. You know, like some sort of rough and gruff mastermind,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°Yeah, Nobody, you don¡¯t really sound like an evil criminal overlord,¡± Tuesday said.

    ¡°You expect a raspy, throaty voice or a really high-pitched evil tone. Instead, you could be anyone. Which I guess is the point,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I¡¯ve disappointed you both. If you¡¯re ready, Tuesday, then begin,¡± I said.

    ¡°Roger, Roger,¡± she responded, sounding like some sort of robot.

    Tuesday changed at the warehouse. Her giant pauldrons, mask, and oversized sweatshirt are gone. She has on jean shorts and a white spaghetti strap, with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. A friendly face with a perpetual grin, her scar does not detract from the fact that she is pretty. Maybe it is due to my study of expressions, but it is clear that her smile is that of a shark. She steps out of the car and skips across the street. Off my psychopathic minion goes to incapacitate an entire police station.

    ¡°Inform me when you are finished,¡± I said.

    Now that we are so close, I can pinpoint exactly where Vivienne is. I can sense that she isn¡¯t moving. The first person I have ever cared about. Should I be upset that she was arrested? There was never any doubt that I would get her back; she is far too valuable to leave rotting in a cell. I am confident that being around her creates a pleasant feeling within me, and I enjoy the time we spend together, but is this just how people feel about their pets? Is that the best my brain can do with compassion and affection? Am I stitching together my personality like Frankenstein and his monster, creating a pale, dead imitation of something? What will I do if I amass all the possible emotions and gather countless idiosyncrasies just to end up some neurotic, deranged homunculus of a person?

    <hr>

    ¡°Alls done, Mista,¡± Tuesday said with the voice of a child.

    ¡°Then I¡¯m heading in.¡±

    I step out of the car into the bright morning sun. For the entirety of my admittedly short Cowl career, I have operated exclusively at night and in the shadows. I am slowly coming to terms with the idea that my anonymity cannot exist forever. The plan is not to be out in the open, but I will eventually have to meet with other people face-to-face. I put my gun on the car seat and bring the Police Chief¡¯s folder as I confidently walk straight into the police station.

    The inside matches the outside. All the walls are made of bare concrete with overbearing fluorescent lights hanging above and the steady hum of air conditioning. It¡¯s like you took a corporate office and made it even more drab and soul-sucking. Daniel once said that the death of art comes when functionality trumps personality. Wherever we end up building the next base, I will make sure it does not look anything like this. The front desk has a man and woman dressed in cop blue, passed out, with their faces on their keyboards. I stroll past them unhurried, taking my time to observe. I pass by some detective cubicles with their owners fast asleep on the floor. No obvious signs of torture or harm. Acceptable. An office water cooler sits next to the bench, where I¡¯m guessing people sit waiting to be seen. The natural light of the sun refracts through the window panes, making my eyes snap toward every twinkle. Relax, Rorschach would have told you if there was anyone else here. I walk by the police breakroom, my power alerts me Tuesday is inside. She¡¯s sitting at a brown composite table that leans to one side. Her legs crossed on top of it as she holds a box of donuts.

    ¡°Aye, boss, I went ahead and took da liberdee of seizing us some, uh, evidence hea,¡± she said with an exaggerated gangster movie accent. ¡°Uh, one of thems resisting arrest. Stop, or I¡¯ll be forced to use a completely unrelated amount of force compared to the crime. He¡¯s got a gun. Oh god, watch out, he¡¯s got a gun. Damn it, you leave me with no choice,¡± she said, stuffing one of the jelly donuts in her mouth.

    ¡°Are you done?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I feel like my joke doesn¡¯t really land unless you can see what I¡¯m seeing. Like if you just take off your helmet for like a second, then I can make the donuts look like little bad guys, not like human bad guys; I¡¯m not into Vore or anything like some kind of sicko. It¡¯s just like little donut people, and they¡¯re wearing orange jumpsuits and striped shirts,¡± Tuesday said, her regular voice returning.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like sweet things,¡± I said.

    ¡°Who the fuck doesn¡¯t like donuts? God, you are evil.¡±

    I resist the urge to sigh. They would both hear it, and that would encourage this behavior.

    ¡°You did well, Tuesday. It''s time to have our talk with Police Chief Matherson.¡±

    ¡°Sure, just gimme a second to grab something,¡± she said, sprinting out of the room back to where the unconscious officers were.

    She comes back wearing a patrolman¡¯s hat and twirling two guns. ¡°Ready to protect and serve.¡±

    Tuesday follows me as we leave the breakroom and round the corner. There¡¯s a staircase in front of us going up and down. I sense Vivienne below me in the cells, which means the offices and storage are up. The stairs are windowless, dusty, and filled with fake plants in an attempt to offset the dreariness. Our footsteps echo despite the best efforts of the plastic foliage. The upstairs are divided into offices and the chief¡¯s is tucked into the back corner. A metal nameplate adorns the otherwise mundane grey door. Tuesday steps forward and knocks.

    ¡°Excuse me, Chief. I have some files that need your signature,¡± Tuesday said in a voice I¡¯d never heard before.

    ¡°Cassie, how can there already be paperwork this early?¡± The Chief grumbled.

    ¡°Crime doesn¡¯t sleep, and apparently, neither does bureaucracy,¡± Tuesday laughed.

    ¡°Door¡¯s unlocked. Bring it on in,¡± he said through the door.

    Tuesday twists the knob and rushes in, guns drawn and aimed at the chief. I follow swiftly behind her, absorbing the contents of the room. The room is warm, and not in a temperature sense. It looks and feels lived in, the way Aubrey¡¯s house does. A portrait frame on our left has several medals and awards inside it. Bookcases on either side and several filing cabinets make the office feel full, and it isn¡¯t helped by the large desk the chief is sitting at. Paperweights, photos, staplers, and several other knickknacks cover the desk, leaving a small place for a computer.

    Police Chief Matheson is an older black male with the face of a doting father who¡¯s worked a stressful job their entire life. Smile lines mixed with deep wrinkles showcase the decades of service he¡¯s worked but his gut suggests his role is not an active one. The file had over twenty confirmed bribes and hypothesized a hundred others. ¡°Protect your ass and serve your own interests¡± is the motto of him and others like him. Not that I am any different, but I don¡¯t play pretend about being a moral paradigm. To his credit, he does not scream or shout at our entrance. I take the open seat in front of him while Tuesday stays near the door.

    ¡°Hello, Mr. Matheson. Sorry, do you mind if I call you Karl?¡± I said.

    The helmet¡¯s distorted choir voice does get a flinch out of him.

    ¡°Who are you, and what have you done to Cassie?¡± Karl asked firmly.

    ¡°Caring about one¡¯s subordinates is an admirable trait in a leader. Unfortunately, you lack a backbone or any sense of integrity,¡± I said, tossing the file onto his desk. ¡°None of your people have been harmed, and there is no plan to cause them harm. Depending on how you respond to my request, that could change.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m relieved to hear that. Your kind isn¡¯t always the most caring of others, let alone members of law enforcement. But I asked you a question: if we¡¯re going to have a working relationship, I¡¯m going to need a name,¡± Karl said, ignoring my insult.

    ¡°Karl, you do not need to know my name, and I do not plan to have any kind of relationship with you. This will simply be a one-off transaction. You give me what I want, and you can keep the only copy of that file.¡±

    ¡°Alright. You said transaction; what kind of compensation are we talking about?¡± Karl asked, rubbing his hands together.

    ¡°Your compensation is the file. Don¡¯t get greedy.¡±

    ¡°Listen, my standard rate is five percent of the profits. Doesn¡¯t matter if it¡¯s looking the other way, procuring something from lock up, or just information. I get my five percent,¡± Karl said.

    Such blatant greed and he has no shame about it. This is taking too long, and the lack of sleep is going to make me irritable. Bottomfeeders only understand things in terms of gains and losses. I should motivate him to make this go faster. I take one of the photos off his desk; it¡¯s a digital frame that cycles through multiple different pictures. They are all some variation of Karl, his wife, and their two children. I hand it off to Tuesday as she puts one of the guns onto a nearby shelf.

    ¡°And a hundred percent of fuck all is fuck all. Tuesday, give the man a glimpse into his future if he doesn¡¯t stop wasting my time.,¡± I commanded.

    Tuesday smiles like the Cheshire cat as she walks over to the seated man. She swats away his hand and puts the gun into his sputtering mouth. Climbing onto his lap, she presses her body against his, doing a weird vocal trick that sounds like a mixture of purring and shushing. Tuesday kisses his forehead softly and then starts doing what I asked of her. Is she trying to put on a show for me? A highly dangerous, violent pervert is not the type of partner I want or need. I have my hands full with a pathetically obsessive, chronically paranoid, unstable waif.

    Karl is sobbing, choking on tears and the gun in his mouth. Whatever horrific imagery she inflicted is not my concern. I just need her to keep this up long enough to make him compliant. She is still sitting in his lap as she arches her back and turns toward me, her face lit up in euphoric ecstasy. I don¡¯t give her the satisfaction of a reaction or response. Instead, we face each other, unmoving and silent as minutes tick by. The only sounds in the room are Karl¡¯s labored breathing and the squeaks from his chair as he frantically twitches at illusionary ghosts. Sweat pours down his face, droplets hitting his desk with every jerk and spasm. Tuesday pulls the gun from his mouth, and I can finally understand what he¡¯s been saying. His murmuring and mumbles inform me of what Tuesday is showing him. He is watching his family forcibly eat each other. Familial cannibalism is an oddly specific choice of vision to show him.

    After fifteen minutes of continuous visual torment, the man is slumped in his chair. His tear ducts are empty, his posture is gone, and Tuesday stands next to him, waiting. The job is done, and I tell her to free him. Slowly, the cloudy, distant look in his eyes fades as he stares at me.

    ¡°It- it wasn¡¯t real?¡± He croaked out.

    ¡°It could be,¡± I said.

    ¡°Please, don¡¯t hurt my family. Whatever you want, just leave them alone.¡±

    ¡°Open the cells below. As long as you do that, you will never see me or any of my associates again,¡± I responded.

    ¡°You did all that just to release three people?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Asking questions will only make me return, and you do not want that.¡±

    ¡°Understood,¡± he said, pulling out a metal object the size of a Poptart.

    He presses two buttons on either side of the object. It splits down the middle, revealing an unlit light strip and a keypad. I watch Karl punch in a six-digit code. Nine, seven, two, four, one, one. As the last number is entered, the strip lights up green, and he places it on his desk in front of me. Karl leans forward and buries his face in his hands. He will have to come to terms with whatever he saw.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t so hard now, was it?¡±

    Tuesday, and I leave the disturbed man behind. We make our way out of the room and down the stairs to the cells. Here I come, Vivienne. The basement floor contains eight cells, each big enough to fit four people comfortably. There¡¯s a toilet, sink, and metal benches in the cells. Thick metal bars protrude from the floor to the ceiling; there¡¯s no door with a keyhole. To the left of each cell is a small rectangular box with three lights, all showing red. We pass a cell with two men passed out, clothes dirty and wet. Drunks. Vivienne is being held in the last one on the left.

    As we approach, I hear snoring. Vivienne is fast asleep on the metal bench, one arm on her chest the other fallen to the floor. Has she been sleeping this whole time? I expected to see her distraught, not contently napping. There are no injuries, and she is uncuffed. Feelings of joy rise up inside me. I am glad she is okay. This is definitely more than the affection for a pet. I truly care for her. I step up to the lock panel and wave Karl¡¯s key near it. All at once, the red lights change to green, and the bars shudder before they begin retracting into the ground. The sounds from the moving metal start to awaken the drunks and Vivienne. With the former blinking her eyes open and squinting toward the sound. She glosses over Tuesday and focuses on me.

    ¡°Whoa, I was not expecting you to come personally. I figured you¡¯d send Hotpants,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°He is currently unavailable. A lot has happened since we last spoke. Do you know where they put your keys and your car?¡± I asked her.

    ¡°My keys should be at the receptionist¡¯s deck along with my ID. I assume they have my car outside in the impound lot. I can¡¯t wait to hear what I missed, like, who¡¯s this chick?¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°Greetings, fellow patriot. I am Officer Tuesday,¡± Tuesday answered with a deep baritone.

    ¡°That is a cool trick. Power or natural talent?¡±

    ¡°Power. Unfortunately, I was only blessed with perfect teeth and a body that just won¡¯t quit,¡± Tuesday said, adopting a surfer''s voice.

    ¡°Hell yeah. That¡¯s sick. I can¡¯t wait to see what else you can do,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°I¡¯ve shown you mine; now show me yours. What can you do?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t really do it here without making everything a lot worse, but I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll see me in action soon,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°You two can talk later. We are on a bit of a time crunch,¡± I interrupted.

    ¡°Gotcha,¡± Vivienne said, sprinting up the stairs.

    I use the key to unlock the drunks, and they look at us, dazed and confused.

    ¡°You¡¯re in luck; someone¡¯s paid your bail. Wait until we¡¯ve left before you slip out,¡± I said.

    Tuesday, and I climb up the stairs, ready to help, but V has already found her stuff. She¡¯s holding an evidence bag with her wallet, keys, and real phone. She left the burner in her car. Smart, that¡¯s my lieutenant. I place Karl¡¯s key device onto one of the nearby desks.

    ¡°Tuesday, you take Isaiah¡¯s car back to base. I will ride with V, and we will meet up there,¡± I said.

    ¡°You trust me enough not to take the car and dip?¡± She asked.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t dumb enough to try. Also, there is nowhere I could not find you, and I¡¯ll send her to repo you and the car,¡± I said, pointing at Vivienne.

    ¡°Now I have to find out what she can do. My mystery meter is going bananas. I¡¯ll see you both back there,¡± Tuesday said.

    Vivienne and I go out the back door that¡¯s attached to the impound lot. Her bright white SUV is hard to miss amongst all the shitboxes that litter the place. They parked it right between two police cruisers. Vivienne squeals joyfully and runs over to her car.

    ¡°Oh, thank god they didn¡¯t hurt you. Don¡¯t worry baby, momma is here,¡± Vivienne said, hugging her car.

    I leave V to her reunion and get into the backseat. I quickly transform my helmet, pull the ear mic out, and turn it off. All at once, the excitement leaves me, and the exhaustion sets in. The backseat feels better than any bed I¡¯ve ever been in, and I feel like I¡¯m melting into it. I give V one last look through the front window before I fall asleep. It is good to have her back.

 Chapter 43 - Board Meeting

    ¡°Hey, Nobody, we¡¯re back,¡± Vivienne said, waking me from my nap.

    The ride wasn¡¯t long enough for me to truly feel rested, but I feel marginally better. Not having my head encased inside my helmet is such a relief. Aubrey did a great job with the filtration system, but it doesn¡¯t compare to fresh air. I cannot believe I fell asleep without my helmet on. The fact I was able to rest despite the vulnerability shows that I do trust V.

    ¡°Thank you, and sorry about falling asleep,¡± I said.

    ¡°All good, boss. I won¡¯t begrudge anybody for taking a nap. And I¡¯m sorry for fucking up and getting arrested,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°Obstacles and setbacks happen. You made sure they had no proof of a crime, and you even had a plan of reaching me. As far as I am concerned, you handled this perfectly. I am happy you executed your plan so thoroughly.¡±

    I can see her smile through the rearview mirror. ¡°Thanks. You said I missed a ton, so fill me in,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°I secured Nicholas Holmes'' assistance going forward. All it required was Isaiah wiping out an entire gang, killing a Cowl, fighting perhaps the strongest Cape in Quinstin, recruiting a psychopath, getting shot in the head, and both Isaiah and I almost dying,¡± I said casually.

    ¡°Wait, what the fuck? You had such a sick-ass night while I slept in a jail cell. I can¡¯t believe you guys beat Titania. I wish I had been there,¡± Vivienne sighed.

    ¡°Not Titania. We fought a probationary member of the Heroes¡¯ Union named Virtue. She¡¯s around our age, and we didn¡¯t beat her. We barely escaped. If I am being honest, I am unsure how you would fare against her. She took on five Cowls at once, and if Tuesday hadn¡¯t been there, she might have killed Isaiah.¡±

    ¡°God, she sounds freaking incredible. If she put hands on Hotpants, then she must be tough. At least you were able to get the lawyer on board,¡± she said.

    ¡°Speaking of the lawyer. Let me know once you have that VIP customer model set up; he will be buying his drugs from us. I don¡¯t want to risk him getting something that¡¯s been cut and dying. I would hate to have to replace him. We should head inside,¡± I said, putting my helmet back on.

    <hr>

    Vivienne and I enter the conference room to find Rorschach and Tuesday. All the money is neatly stacked up and Rorschach wrapped it up in rubber bands. It is a satisfying sight to see all the money I have at my disposal.

    ¡°Kai, where is Isaiah?¡± I asked.

    It takes a second, but Kai¡¯s voice echoes over the speakers. ¡°Uggh. He¡¯s down here with me. The patient is awake and asking to be allowed to leave.¡±

    ¡°Perfect, the two of you can come up for a meeting,¡± I said.

    ¡°Do I have to?¡± Kai whined.

    ¡°Yes, both of you come up here. We¡¯re about to have our first board meeting.¡±

    <hr>

    Isaiah arrives shirtless and with his injured arm completely wrapped up in bandages and bound to his chest. The burns on his torso are barely red anymore, and the destroyed flesh has already begun regenerating. The bruising he sustained is gone as well as the swelling. It is incredible how little remains of his injuries.

    ¡°How are you doing, Isaiah?¡± I asked.

    ¡°He¡¯s about seventy, seventy-five percent healed. My conjecture about his natural healing ability was correct, but it¡¯s to be expected since I¡¯m the one who said it,¡± Kai bragged, coming out from behind Isaiah.

    His attitude returning bodes well for him being more than a yesman. A cowed and fearful Kai is not worth much in my eyes. I need a mad scientist surgeon who will help push boundaries, not a pathetic worm.

    Isaiah sits at the opposite end of the table from me, waiting quietly. To my immediate right is Vivienne looking at me attentively. Next to her is Kai with an expression that seems to be a mixture of irritation and boredom. Across from them is Rorschach playing with an ink mouse she created, passing diamonds back and forth. Is she just playing catch with herself, using a creature she creates and controls? Tuesday is a few seats down from her, back in her full costume. She cut holes in the patrolman¡¯s hat for the bunny ears on her mask. She looks even more ridiculous now. I look over my five employees and the fourteen empty seats. Eventually, more will sit here, those trusted and chosen few¡ªpeople who will further my interests and rise with me.

    ¡°Everyone, meet our newest addition, Tuesday. She is an expert at infiltration, information gathering, and psychological warfare,¡± I said.

    ¡°You forget world-renowned sex icon and five-time cornhole champion!¡± Tuesday shouted with a southern twang.

    ¡°Oh, I like her. She is fun,¡± Vivienne yelled back at the same volume.

    ¡°Great, another one,¡± Kai sighed.

    ¡°Another one? What do you mean by that?¡± Tuesday asked innocently.

    ¡°Yeah, doc, what do you mean ¡®another one¡¯?¡± Vivienne added, smiling.

    Kai pales at V¡¯s question.

    I, uh, uhm. I meant,¡± Kai stumbled.

    ¡°You messed up now, Kai. A little bit of advice when it comes to women: don¡¯t insinuate things you aren¡¯t willing to say,¡± Isaiah chimed in.

    ¡°Oh yeah, and what the fuck do you know about women?¡± Rorschach asked him.

    ¡°Hey! I¡¯ve been inside countless women for my research; you could say I know women deeply and intimately,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Gross, Hotpants, fuckin¡¯ gross dude,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°V, I¡¯m not gonna apologize for loving women. I¡¯m too big of a feminist for that,¡± Isaiah said.

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    ¡°Just because you sleep around doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re a feminist,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°Is it always like this? God, I hope so,¡± Tuesday laughed.

    ¡°When you¡¯ve generated as many female orgasms as I have, they actually give you a doctorate in women¡¯s studies,¡± Isaiah smirked.

    ¡°Why did I have to leave the lab for this? I feel like I¡¯m not needed for this round table circus,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°No, man, we need you. Every group needs a sassy gay,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Why is he the sassy gay?¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°Because you¡¯re a frumpy meathead, and I¡¯m fabulously fashionable. Like it¡¯s obviously me,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°Go fuck yourself,¡± Vivienne said, pouting.

    ¡°That¡¯s it? V, girl, I am begging you to learn how to shit talk. You have to put men in their fucking place, or they get ideas. Like tell the stiletto surgeon to shut his bitch mouth, or you¡¯ll pull his tongue out through his asshole and facefuck him with a chainsaw,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°Jesus, I thought we were going for like a fun family sitcom feel. But you people are just disgusting. I mean, good heavens,¡± Tuesday said with faux-righteous fury.

    ¡°Everyone be quiet,¡± I said. I cannot let them bicker and banter forever.

    All five heads pivot to look at me.

    ¡°As I was saying. Welcome to the first of many board meetings we will have. I said that I would create a company, and I will. The first order of business for this meeting is to assign roles to everyone. I will be the CEO, and Vivienne will be our COO. Isaiah will be our Chief Compliance Officer, Kai will be the Head of R&D, and Rorschach will be the Chief Financial Officer. Tuesday, you will be the Head of Market Research. Are there any questions regarding roles before I continue?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Nope. It¡¯s pretty self-explanatory,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°Umm, excuse me. Plucky, intrepid reporter Tuesday here for the WWBB news. One question; what the fuck is Head of Market Research?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s code for corporate espionage. As in, you¡¯re the head of spying,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°What¡¯s WWBB news?¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°Why would you ask-¡± Kai said.

    ¡°IT¡¯S WORLDWIDE BAD BITCHES!¡± Tuesday shouted.

    ¡°Kai is correct,¡± I said, moving past the outburst. ¡°These titles are not empty positions but real roles with responsibilities. Now, I have been vague about what the overarching plan is and what the nature of the company will be. Quinstin is the biggest city in the state by far, with a population of over 3,750,000 people. The city has a full BNA compound, as well as one of the five largest Heroes¡¯ Union bases in America. By all accounts, this is not a city that most Cowls would or could attempt to take over, but I am not most Cowls. We are going to fix and replace the city¡¯s infrastructure. Using Kai¡¯s construction drones, we can build at a rate that a regular construction company cannot possibly compete with. Nuevohuman fights are famously destructive, and now there will be a company that can rebuild things better and cheaper. Piece by piece, we will slowly replace Quinstin as we create our very own Theseus¡¯ city,¡± I said.

    ¡°So we¡¯re a construction company?¡± Rorschach asked.

    ¡°No, we need to be more than that for my plan to work. We will diversify into other sectors and slowly expand our influence across the city. Our tendrils will expand and burrow into every facet of that city until it gets to a point where we are synonymous with Quinstin. Eventually, it will get to the extent that we are so symbiotic that the government, the BNA, and the Heroes¡¯ Union cannot remove us without crippling one of America''s largest cities,¡± I answered.

    ¡°This all sounds very above board and boring. I was promised excitement and mayhem,¡± Tuesday said.

    ¡°We will continue to operate our less-than-legal activities as well. It will not be a bloodless affair to take over Quinstin. I expect conflict and resistance at every turn. The Capes and Cowls are used to the status quo, but they will bend the knee or be crushed by the boot. We will grow both the legal and illegal sides of our company. Those who prove loyal and useful will be given powers. An ever-expanding personal army of powered soldiers,¡± I replied.

    I completely forgot to pass off Offset¡¯s ability. I am lucky I haven¡¯t told a lie since the meeting started.

    ¡°Holy hell, Nobody, you¡¯re talking about carving a kingdom out of a city,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Long live the Crime King of Quinstin. May he be remembered fondly by friends and feared of by his foes,¡± Tuesday announced.

    ¡°Oh, I cannot wait to start cracking skulls,¡± Vivienne said joyfully.

    ¡°The scale you¡¯re talking about is going to require a shitload of more drones. And I¡¯m going to need better materials instead of scrap metal and garbage, especially if you expect it to be nicer looking than this place,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°I like this place. It¡¯s homey,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°Well, thank you, but it¡¯s dreary and barebones here. There¡¯s nothing wrong with a little bit of color and flair. Just because he¡¯s all dark and gloomy doesn¡¯t mean the rest of us have to join the Black Parade,¡± Kai said.

    What is the Black Parade?

    ¡°Come on. I know they¡¯re old school, but it¡¯s like a formative Emo album. Jesus, do none of you listen to the classics?¡± Kai asked, appalled at the complete silence.

    ¡°Yeah, so anyway, I have an actually relevant fucking question. We only have three hundred and sixty-five thousand in cash; that is not nearly enough to do what you want to. Property is fuckin¡¯ expensive, especially in Quinstin. Even if we target the most rundown, crime-ridden, bad neighborhood abandoned lots, we might not be able to get anything for that price. The remaining one point nine million is tied up as drugs and gold bars. What¡¯s the plan for that, Nobody?¡± Rorschach asked.

    Beyond her value as reconnaissance, this is why I wanted her to stay¡ªa voice to challenge me, to question and keep me honest. This group is made up of people all over the moral spectrum, and that is what will make us so effective. Tuesday is an agent of chaos that has no line she will not cross. Rorschach and Vivienne have strict rules that they will not break. Isaiah is the most similar to me. We commit crimes, violence, and atrocities to further a goal, not out of enjoyment. Kai has no qualms about kidnapping, experimenting, and holding people hostage indefinitely. He also did not care that I murdered an innocent civilian to make him a Tinkerer.

    ¡°We have in our position a young man who¡¯s father is a notable investment banker. Kai has been watching to see if there are any side effects from the prolonged exposure to the late Mr. Drax¡¯s power,¡± I answered.

    ¡°So, a bit of ransom?¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°No. We are going to return his son to him with a clean bill of health for free. In exchange for our generosity and kindness, I believe he will be interested in repaying us with a small favor. That small favor will be taking our money and investing it for us. That will provide us with legal tender,¡± I said. ¡°We have made a lot of progress in a very short amount of time, and for that, you should all be proud. But we are not going to rest on our laurels. I have accomplished everything I have by never letting off the gas, and we are in the final stretch.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean final stretch?¡± Isaiah asked.

    ¡°In four weeks, our entire operation will be moved to Quinstin.¡±

    A chorus of surprise and exclamations fills the room in response to my timeline.

    ¡°I will be preoccupied working with Kai on something for the next several weeks, and therefore, the rest of you are going to be taking on a lot of extra work. There will not be any oversight from me. I trust all of you to complete your tasks efficiently,¡± I said.

    ¡°If you say it¡¯s possible in four weeks, then it¡¯s possible in four weeks, Nobody,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°It¡¯s a bit of a tight schedule, but we can probably get it done,¡± Isaiah said.

    Rorschach, Tuesday, and Kai nod their assent as well.

    ¡°Rorschach, get in touch with that fence of yours and get rid of the gold. I also need you to look into the possible property in Quinstin. It doesn¡¯t matter where it is; all that matters right now is the price. Continue your surveillance of Nicholas, and work on getting the city mapped out. If you¡¯re able to, start creating a stockpile of creatures. You can hide them in the sewers of Quinstin,¡± I said.

    ¡°Will do. A slight issue with your sewer idea is that my creations dissolve when they come into contact with water,¡± Rorschach said.

    WHAT? Why am I only hearing about such a huge weakness of her power now? Do not panic; adjust and overcome.

    ¡°In that case, hide them in parks, trees, and underpasses. Feel free to leave now. In fact, as soon as I give you your orders, you can take off,¡± I said.

    Rorschach scoops the bricks into her bag while the ink mouse throws the diamonds into a small envelope. She puts the envelope into her bag, picks up her mouse, and leaves. One down, four to go.

    ¡°V, you will be in charge of visiting Gerald McKinney. Take the cash and Junior with you. If what I¡¯ve read about the father is true, then you won¡¯t even have to ask him to help you. I know you¡¯ll act in our best interest.¡±

    ¡°You got it,¡± she said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have the table drone bring him up to your car,¡± Kai added.

    ¡°You tryna butter me up cause you were an asshole earlier?¡± Vivienne laughed.

    And then there were three. The four of us left in the room are the ones who don¡¯t shy away from the nastier side of the world. Bringing Tuesday in on the experiments should help satiate her bloodlust. I can pair her with Isaiah to make sure she stays in line as well.

    ¡°Isaiah, you and Tuesday are going to be operating together. Kai¡¯s research requires more volunteers so it¡¯s time to round up the rest of the vagrants of the docks. There is also a new target for our imaginary vigilante to take down: an exhibitionist predator and alleged rapist. Jeremy Swaim is a Traveller/Alter/Manipulator who can separate portions of his body, clone them, dissolve them, and then rematerialize the pieces anywhere in sight. He can also teleport the rest of his body to these creations. He¡¯s used this for various effects, and he¡¯s good enough never to have been caught. It''s the same deal as last time, Isaiah,¡± I said.

    ¡°Will do, bossman. Let¡¯s go, girlie,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Wait, what does he mean, ¡®same deal as last time¡¯?¡± Tuesday asked him.

    ¡°I¡¯ll explain on the way,¡± Isaiah said, exiting the conference room.

    And now it is just me and the doctor. Kai sits in his chair, looking relaxed for once.

    ¡°Is it my turn for alone time with the boss?¡± He joked.

    ¡°Yes, for the next three weeks, we are going to be spending every day together until every aspect of my power has been mapped out. We will embark on this scientific journey together, Kai. No matter what it takes, morality will not impede progress. Understood?¡±

    ¡°You know what they say; you can¡¯t make an omelet without breaking some eggs. I love a good problem,¡± Kai responded.

    We walk out of the room, heading toward the door that leads to the lab.

    ¡°Kai?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°What are your thoughts on elevators?¡± I asked.

 Chapter 44 - Answers and More Questions.

    Chapter 43 (3349)

    Kai and I stand alone inside the laboratory; everyone else has already left. It is truly impressive how much he was able to do with an abandoned warehouse. The next one will be even better. He¡¯s wearing goggles with displays built into the lenses and his traditional lab coat without sleeves. I feel a little rejuvenated after my nap on the way here. I could go home to rest, but there is too much to be done.

    ¡°You said that one of the subjects was displaying new powers; explain,¡± I said.

    ¡°Yes, the homeless female subject. You gave her a Manipulator/Alter that can change where their center of gravity originates from and a Manipulator who gains telekinesis over any items they attune. Somehow, the two abilities have birthed a new power. It would be best for you to see rather than hear me explain it,¡± Kai said.

    Kai¡¯s spider limb taps a few times on his tablet, and the wall of screens turns on. It¡¯s displaying footage of the subject floating in her cell three feet above her bed. There are thin strips of brown cloth rotating around her like the rings of Saturn. She looks healthier and more lucid than before. She¡¯s wearing a brown long-sleeve shirt with one sleeve ripped and matching pants. There are two zeros stitched onto the back of her shirt.

    ¡°Did you make the outfit?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Y-yes. Sorry, I didn¡¯t think that was what you were going to ask about,¡± Kai answered.

    ¡°Why did you do it?¡±

    ¡°They are numbered, so it is easier to keep track of the subjects. Also, they¡¯re sterile and don¡¯t have any metal, buttons, or zippers,¡± he answered.

    ¡°Smart. What am I looking at?¡±

    ¡°When she first woke up, she was very out of it due to all of the drugs in her system. She was afraid to begin with. Confused about how she gained these new abilities, but as she sobered up, she began to use her new powers gradually. Before long, the subject was doing things that did not line up with what you described as the powers¡¯ capabilities. She has shown the ability to change the center of gravity of objects she is attuned to, as well as the strength of said gravity. When she goes to sleep, those strips of cloth continue to float and spin without any conscious effort on her part. As you can see on the screen, she is now using the gravitational force of the cloth to make herself float. That means that she has manifested at least one new ability, depending on how you want to classify her pseudo-flight. Without a second subject it will be hard to tell whether the combination effect is an aspect of your ability, is unique to Subject Zero, or specifically the two abilities,¡± Kai explained.

    Are you special, Subject Zero, or just the standard of what I can create?

    ¡°Fascinating. How is she holding up?¡±

    ¡°Given everything, she is holding up remarkably well. Both physically and mentally. I believe the powers have given her an outlet to focus on. She has not attempted to escape, but she continues to try to make contact during feeding time. Obviously, there has been no acknowledgment or contact,¡± Kai answered.

    ¡°Good. You¡¯ve done well. Until the other two get back with more subjects, we only have Zero to experiment with. Do you have a way to put her to sleep? I want a full scan, and then I¡¯ll give her two new powers to test,¡± I said.

    ¡°Yes, give me a moment,¡± Kai said, typing on his tablet.

    On the screen, I see a bluish-green gas slowly flow into Zero¡¯s cell. She doesn¡¯t notice at first, but she falls onto the bed, coughing as more gas floods the cell. The muted video shows her freaking out, banging the walls and screaming. Does she think we are killing her off? No, you will not die today, Subject Zero. But you might wish you had by the time we are done. Subject Zero crumples onto her bed, completely unconscious. Kai presses another button, and the gas is sucked out of the room. A minute later, a table drone enters the cell and picks up the subject. Thick metal bars wrap around her limbs, neck, forehead, and waist, securing her to the table. It doesn¡¯t take long before the metallic tapping of the drone fills the air as it arrives in front of the doctor and me.

    Up close, I cannot sense any change. My ability tells me there are only two powers inside of her that I can sense. So my power is saying they have not combined or, at the very least, are still individually retrievable. I stand off to the side as Kai begins his tests. Scans, bloodwork, bone marrow, and antibodies are all tested and logged over the course of an hour. Weariness and fatigue are knocking at my door by this point but the day is not done. Kai gives me a thumbs up and I place my hand against her arm. I could just take the powers back, but a trump card is not a trump card if people know about it. I retrieve the powers the manual way, feeling the two of them inside me once again.

    There is no change to them, no additional features or personality pieces. I look at the sleeping woman. Are you truly a unique anomaly? I used to believe that triggering told you everything about your ability, but this certainly disproves that. Abilities being able to combine was outside the knowledge I received about my power. I need to select the next powers I give her carefully. Anything too strong could be an issue. It occurs to me that two powers are being stored nearby.

    ¡°Kai, bring the Cape here. Subject Zero will be getting the two powers I stored inside her.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    A moment later a new table drone has brought the burn victim formerly known as Offset. She¡¯s hooked up to several tubes, some for fluids and others for breathing. Her limbs have been cut clean off and stitched closed. That is odd. She did not look like this when Vivienne brought her back. I look to the doctor as I place my hands on the Cape to take back the powers. While the five minutes are ticking down, I address the elephant in the room.

    ¡°Did you cut her limbs off, Doctor?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah. I figured it would make it easier to use her to hold powers. She¡¯s alive, but without my machines, she will die. That means you can store the abilities you don¡¯t want to have without worrying if she¡¯ll escape,¡± Kai answered nonchalantly.

    What does he mean by that? Does he know something about the personality pieces?

    ¡°What did you just say? Why would there be abilities I don¡¯t want to have?¡± I asked.

    ¡°You know, the side effects of the powers. Clearly, there are some you don¡¯t like dealing with, which is why you had me keep her around to store the more annoying ones,¡± Kai replied without looking up from his tablet.

    He knows. My eyes zip around the room, looking for a weapon, even while my head remains still. I cannot let him know my intentions. If he has figured out the personality pieces, then there is a chance he could figure out the full extent of my power.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I follow. What side effects are you talking about?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Come on, man. Even if I wasn¡¯t a genius, do you think I wouldn¡¯t notice that I suddenly couldn¡¯t stand the sight or smell of seafood? I¡¯m fucking Japanese, Nobody. I ran tests to see if maybe the Tinkerer power had affected my tastebuds or my brain, but they all came back negative. The only change was you gifting me the ability. Coupled with your mentioning of side effects, made me realize that you knew. It¡¯s conjecture, but you probably know as soon as you take an ability. I don¡¯t mind, for what it¡¯s worth. There are plenty of other proteins out there, and giving up seafood to become a Tinkerer is more than fair trade. Once I deduced all that, I realized with how many powers you¡¯ve taken, there must be side effects you can¡¯t stand to deal with. Then you insisted on keeping a depowered Cape around but subdued and vegetative. I mean, it¡¯s so obvious,¡± Kai laughed.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    There¡¯s a tray of scalpels to my right. Glasses protect his eyes, but the throat is exposed. Think calmly and rationally, Nobody. Focus on the facts at hand. He does not fully understand the personality pieces, but he is on the right track. He has kept my secrets already and has much more to lose by betraying me. If I kill him, I lose an extremely talented surgeon and Tinkerer. Not to mention, it will be hard to find another unscrupulous doctor. He obeys my orders without question and has a thirst for knowledge that can be exploited in my favor. He is complacent in enough crimes that he cannot possibly turncoat. I can¡¯t kill him; it would be too costly to replace him.

    ¡°You caught me. I greatly underestimated your intellect, but I will not make that mistake again. You are correct. Several of the powers have less-than-ideal effects. I appreciate the effort you went through to make it easier to keep her immobile. Is she cognizant of what is happening?¡±

    ¡°No, she is in a medically induced coma and will stay that way forever. So load her up with whatever abilities you don¡¯t want,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°Let¡¯s wait until Tuesday and Isaiah return,¡± I said.

    I give Offset her ability back, freeing me from the compulsive honesty. Kai sends Subject Zero back to her cell, and Offset¡¯s table drone takes her away somewhere. There is not much I can do here until Isaiah and Tuesday get back. I want more powers. I leave Kai and head up to my office to look through the database.

    <hr>

    I lose hours filtering through the database, searching for abilities that interest me¡ªseven Neuvohumans who either have abilities worth stealing or won¡¯t be missed. Phantasmo, Carapace, Big Phish, and the White Knight Militia Group will provide the group with a challenge and me with more powers. Ideas are forming in my head of a way to accelerate my goal of a war. If I can collect enough abilities that mutate the user, like Isaiah¡¯s, I could combine them and create monsters. Set them loose in a city to just destroy and cause mayhem.

    A polite knock at my door brings me out of my thoughts. I tell whoever it is to come in. Isaiah and Tuesday walk in, dragging a disheveled and injured man. In the Venn diagram of a school shooter and panty sniffer, Jeremy Swaim falls right in the middle. He is a creepy man with a bony, hunched frame and teeth that are slightly too big for his mouth. You were given such a useful ability, and you chose to use it to be a pervert. What a waste. I quickly stand and approach the two, reaching out for Jeremy.

    ¡°I see you made quick work of him,¡± I said, beginning to siphon away his ability.

    ¡°He was a slippery fuck. Chased him for an hour until Tuesday was able to tag him. He fell to the floor convulsing, and I knocked him out,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°I told you all you had to do was ask for help,¡± Tuesday said.

    ¡°You''re right; how silly of me to assume you would help me from the beginning out of the kindness of your heart,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Glad you agree. So we¡¯re kidnapping homeless people next? Jeez, saying that out loud sure makes it sound like we¡¯re the bad guys,¡± Tuesday said, frowning.

    The timer ends, allowing me to figure out the full extent of Jeremy¡¯s power. He could have been a great Cape or Cowl with his powers. Long-range teleportation, information gathering, and highly mobile, he truly wasted his potential. It figures such an awful human would give me a problematic personality piece. Voyeuristic tendencies are another detrimental piece I need to offload.

    ¡°Good and bad are relativistic. There are serial killer cannibals whose religious beliefs declare what they do holy; they believe they are the good guys. A civilian who murders the sitting dictator of their country is considered wrong by the law. It¡¯s all about the frame of mind and the position you view an act from. I¡¯d like to wait a few days before we dispose of Jeremy. You two can move on to retrieving the volunteers in the meantime,¡± I said.

    ¡°What are we going to do with the human trash?¡± Isaiah asked.

    ¡°Tuesday, you can keep him. Do whatever you want with him; just don¡¯t kill him. Ask Kai to use one of the containment rooms,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Golly gee mister, are you sure?¡± Tuesday said with a transatlantic accent.

    ¡°I am a man of my word. Remember, he needs to be alive and in one piece in order to be of use to me.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, thank you, thank you. It¡¯s like Christmas in July. My mom told me that if I wait for things, good things will happen to me, dude. And now look,¡± She said, adopting a fratboy voice.

    ¡°Before you two leave, is Vivienne back?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s talking to Rorschach now. They both seem happy, so I¡¯m guessing the meeting went well,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Excellent. You¡¯re both free to go,¡± I said, dismissing them.

    Once the two of them have left, I shut the computer off. It''s time to find V and go home. My bed awaits me. I find Vivienne in the conference room with Rorschach, and Isaiah was right, both women look quite excited. A pleasant warmth fills my chest, seeing Vivienne joking and smiling. I open the glass door and lean in through the doorway.

    ¡°V, it¡¯s time to go,¡± I said.

    ¡°Oh sure, I gotchu boss. I can tell you all about how my meeting went. Spoiler alert, it went fucking great,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°That¡¯s good. I need to stop by the lab first, and then I¡¯ll meet you outside.¡±

    ¡°See ya in a few,¡± Vivienne said, leaving.

    ¡°Kai, get the Subject ready. I¡¯ll be down shortly,¡± I said aloud.

    I head back down to the lab, and Kai is waiting with Zero on her table. Diminish and Swaim are the obvious powers to offload. They aren¡¯t the strongest, and neither of them can facilitate escape. Being unable to derive pleasure from anything and wanting to spy on others are not helpful or wanted pieces. I finish transferring the powers, and Kai starts tapping away on his tablet.

    ¡°What powers did you give her? I have to adjust her file,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°An Alter who can shrink nonsentient objects by touching them, and a Traveller/Alter/Manipulator who can clone any part of their body, dissolve and rematerialize them anywhere they can see. The pieces still work, and the real body can be reconstituted around them, allowing for teleportation,¡± I said.

    ¡°Noted. I¡¯ll begin the tests and check-up now. Will you be staying?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°No,¡± I said, heading for the endless stairway.

    <hr>

    Vivienne¡¯s car takes the last left out of the docks, and I can finally change my helmet back to my mask. I place it back in my backpack next to my gun case and ease back into the seat. My body is so heavy and sore. I feel worse than I did after the docks and after surgery combined.

    ¡°So tell me how it went,¡± I said to Vivienne.

    ¡°It went exactly how you said it would. I stopped and got some snacks for my sleeping passenger and drove right up to their estate. The place is huge, by the way, and has a ginormous gate surrounding it. There was security everywhere, black suits and concealed weapons. I drove up and pretended to be a concerned friend of Junior and politely asked to speak to his father. They had to check with the head butler, who wanted to come down and see the young master to verify my claims. Not gonna lie, Nobody, he was a scary ass motherfucker. His suit was perfectly done up, and he had perfect posture. I let it slip that Junior had gotten way over his head with a very bad crowd,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°Good thinking, and then what happened?¡±

    ¡°I got my meeting with Gerald McKinney. We spoke inside this humongous library with spotless marbled floors and high ceilings. He was waiting for me when I got there. And he just looked like a regular rich old man. He kinda reminded me of you, actually. One second, he¡¯s playing the father so deeply thankful that his son is okay, and then he switches to a shark, smelling blood in the water. Guy¡¯s eyes narrow, and his smile disappears. He was all, ¡®My son has been missing for months, and everyone I sent to find him came back emptyhanded. How did you succeed where so many others failed, young lady?¡¯ And I said everyone you sent failed because a powerful Cowl was keeping him locked up. And then he said, ¡®How did you rescue my son from such a powerful Cowl?¡¯ And then I delivered the coldest fucking line, Nobody. I transformed and said by being a more powerful Cowl. DUDE, I was such a badass,¡± Vivienne giggled.

    I cannot imagine what Gerald McKinney felt when she shifted inside of his house.

    ¡°And then I transformed back, and he was strictly business. I¡¯m assuming that he¡¯s done deals with Nuevohumans before because he didn¡¯t freak out when I used my power. He did ask about Curtis. Well, he didn¡¯t ask about Curtis cause he doesn¡¯t know about Curtis, but you know what I mean. I told him that the issue had been solved, and that¡¯s when he pulled out his checkbook. He wanted to give me an extremely large sum of money, but I told him that wasn¡¯t why I saved his son. I had brought the bag of cash with me and made sure that it was unzipped so that he could see it. He said he had to repay me somehow. That¡¯s when he offered to do us a favor. It was just like you said, Nobody. Your foresight is fuckin spooky,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°So he agreed to invest the money for us?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Kinda? I explained that I planned to start a company, and he offered to help with that. He took the money and gave me a bank card with multiple accounts set up already. He told me that one of the accounts was listed as investments and that any money we put in that one, he would invest for us. I checked everything out on the banking app and he put five hundred thousand in it already. Once we get the cash from the drugs and gold, we can make deposits. We¡¯ll be able to add users to it and eventually transition into getting separate company cards. I think it¡¯s safe to say I did a great job, and you should shower me with compliments and praise. Don''t worry, I''m level-headed enough that it won''t inflate my ego.¡±

    ¡°Exceptional. And this is why you are my right hand, V. You handled this perfectly, and I''m extremely fortunate to have you. I would be completely and utterly lost without you. You could even say I¡¯m blessed. Oh God, above in heaven, thank you for gifting me this woman,¡± I said emotionlessly.

    ¡°You¡¯re an asshole,¡¯ Vivienne replied.

    ¡°Jokes aside, you truly did amazing. You''re the most reliable person I have, V. There''s a reason you''re the only one who knows about me. You''re who I trust the most.¡±

    I see Vivienne blush faintly at the praise.

    ¡°I''m going to take a nap. Wake me when we arrive,¡± I said.

    ¡°Sweet dreams,¡± Vivienne said.

    <hr>

    ¡°We''re here, Nobody,¡± Vivienne said, waking me up.

    ¡°Thank you. I''m going to be texting you some details on your next target whenever I wake up. That''ll either be tonight or tomorrow morning,¡± I said, getting out of the car.

    ¡°Oooooo. Can I have a hint? Will it be a good fight?¡± She asked.

    ¡°It''s a white supremacist group. They have four confirmed Nuevohumans and plenty of other nonpowered people. They are a collection of former military, religious extremists, and paranoid doomsday preppers. These are not people you can reason with. They are indoctrinated domestic terrorists, and the world will be a much better place once they have been removed from it. Tuesday will be your backup,¡± I said.

    ¡°You think I need backup?¡± She asked tentatively.

    ¡°V, I would never doubt you or your capabilities. But Tuesday will be there to watch your back and eliminate threats. Remember that you are there to secure the Nuevohumans,¡± I said.

    ¡°Gotcha. It¡¯ll be fun getting to know her.¡±

    ¡°Be careful around her, V.¡±

    Daniel''s car is here, but he must be sleeping off a hangover because the house is dead silent when I enter. I take my boots off and trudge up the stairs to my room. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and it¡¯s Maria. Hey, babe, I¡¯m sorry I went through your phone, but please stop ignoring me. I drove by your house, and your dad says you¡¯ve been out, and he hasn¡¯t seen you. I love you, Eryk; please forgive me. I¡¯m too tired to deal with her, and I have no desire to. I hide my backpack and fall into my bed, too exhausted to undress.

 Chapter 45 - Tough Conversations

    Chapter 44. (3090)

    My room is pitch black despite the blinds being open. My stomach is growling, and my tongue is so dry it feels like printer paper. I must have slept for a day and then some. My eyes are crusty, and I stumble toward my bathroom, flashbanging myself by turning the light on. I look rough. I look like shit. My hair is a limp mess, I need to shave, and there are heavy bags under my eyes. But all that can wait until I work out. I do a quick face wash and head down to the basement, putting my headphones in. Exercise is proven to help your body release endorphins.

    <hr>

    I finally look like myself again. Clean-shaven, manicured hair and moisturized skin to recreate the image I am trying to project. Piercing green eyes stare coldly back at me. I begin practicing my expressions. I¡¯ve gotten too used to not having to do anything with my face as Nobody. Complacency is how you get discovered. I smile, but it doesn¡¯t reach my eyes. Again. Raise my cheek muscles, slightly close my eyelids, and figure out just the right amount of teeth. I keep repeating different types of mouth movements to convey desire, embarrassment, irritation, pleasure, happiness, and more. Human beings are able to communicate so much emotion and intent through the slightest facial triggers. What does my smile look like when it is genuine? Does it look like any of these?

    My Cowl phone went off while I was showering, so I grab it from my room to see who messaged me. The first one is Rorschach telling me that she got a great deal on the gold and will let me know once it¡¯s done. The second message is Isaiah informing me that he and Tuesday got all the ¡®rats.¡¯ I text Isaiah back and tell him that he¡¯s going to be going after a few Nuevohumans and will be handling Jeremy soon. Then I message Vivienne all the info I have on the White Knight Militia Group.

    The White Knight Militia Group spawned out of some more militaristic KKK members believing nonwhite Nuevohumans are the harbingers of the apocalypse. They are extremely territorial and, for the most part, do not leave their compound. The government and Heroes¡¯ Union leave them alone because they do not want to aggravate them into action. I guess the idea is that it is better not to disturb the wasp¡¯s nest inside your shed if they aren¡¯t bothering you.

    The group has two leaders, one spiritual and one military. Their spiritual leader is Father Forward, a hellfire and brimstone Catholic who can manipulate multiple forms of energy to create constructs or weapons. Their military leader is Franklin Prior, a former army general who can cover people in a nearly invisible shell that can survive any one hit. The final two Nuevohumans are a Manipulator who can create crystalline objects that can explode on command and a Bruiser who gets slightly stronger every time they die. The Bruiser¡¯s file was incredibly small and was very vague about what exactly getting stronger means. It will be a while before any of them respond to me, and there is no chance I will fall back asleep now, so I guess I can make breakfast. The house is quiet; the central air shuts off in the early morning, so there¡¯s no faint humming. I quietly walk down the stairs, trying my best to be courteous to Daniel.

    I settle on making home fries with bacon and eggs. Cooking has always been a task that came easily to me. Tune out the world around you and focus only on the immediate tasks. And ever since stealing Mumur¡¯s power, it is a task I find enjoyable. Methodically washing and peeling the potatoes while the oil in my pan slowly heats up. Then, the bacon goes on a sheet pan into the oven as I crack the eggs into a bowl. In the kitchen, everything has its place and job. I cube the potatoes and drop them into the hot oil as the bacon reaches its halfway point. The sounds of practiced whisking and oil frying fill the kitchen. Once the bacon and potatoes are almost done, I pour the eggs into a stainless steel pan, pushing and pulling them with a spatula for a softer scramble. I made too much. There¡¯s plenty of everything left over after I fill up a large bowl.

    I start eating, quickly finishing and getting another heaping portion. I continue wolfing down food until I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. My father¡¯s lumbering steps prelude his tired arrival into the kitchen. He¡¯s in boxers, slippers, and a dark green bathrobe. Daniel looks fatigued. He must be working long hours again.

    ¡°Hey, kiddo. Whatever you¡¯re cooking smelled so good it woke me up. Got any left for your dad?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s plenty. Help yourself, Dad.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± he said, scooping a little bit of everything onto a plate.

    He sits across from me at the table, both of us eating in silence. The only light in the room is from the fixture above the kitchen island. The wall is cast in the distorted silhouette of my father and I. We both finish our food without a word exchanged. This might be the last time we talk. A delicious breakfast topped off with the empty remains of a hollow relationship laid bare. As I push my chair out to get up, Daniel speaks.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± He asked.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Eryk, you were very nearly a victim in what was the worst tragedy to ever occur in our town. You lost one of your best friends, and I heard Aubrey got in an accident. Now Maria is showing up here and telling me she can¡¯t get in touch with you. Listen, I¡¯ve never had to discipline you or worry about you because you¡¯re such a great kid. But you¡¯re disappearing for hours, showing up whenever, and now you¡¯re sleeping away the days. Are you depressed? Because the alternative to that is something I don¡¯t want to consider.¡±

    Is he seriously trying to have a heart-to-heart conversation? It is far too late for that, Daniel. I cannot bother with him anymore. It is good that I removed all the troublesome powers before I came home, or this conversation would be much more difficult.

    ¡°I have been busy preparing to move to Quinstin. I have been taking trips there to see the city and the campus, Dad. I¡¯m fine, well, not fine, but as close to it as you can get, given what happened. I appreciate your concern. Maria and I are in a bit of a rough patch. She kind of betrayed my trust, and I asked for space; clearly, she didn¡¯t agree,¡± I laughed.

    I see something in his facial expression. There is a hint of hesitation as he battles his desire to pretend to be a father and the uncomfortableness he feels looking at me. But in the end, your love for your dead wife prevents you from loving your son.

    ¡°Alright. Can¡¯t blame me for me being too much of a worrywart. You must be excited about going to your dad¡¯s alma mater if you¡¯ve been in Quinstin so much. God, that brings me back.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be honest. I can¡¯t wait to get out of this town, Dad. After everything that¡¯s happened, this place weighs on me,¡± I said.

    ¡°I get it. If that¡¯s how this place makes you feel, then maybe I¡¯ll pull the trigger and finally sell this house. Just retire and get something smaller; God knows it¡¯ll feel empty when you¡¯re at college,¡± Daniel said.

    ¡°Wherever you pick, make sure its got better weather than New England. It¡¯s like a swamp outside,¡± I joked.

    Daniels smiles, and I leave the kitchen, heading to my room. I have nothing to do but wait until Vivienne is awake. I could watch a movie.

    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    <hr>

    Vivienne drops me off at the base and leaves with Tuesday. They are headed up to Vermont to do some recon on the White Knights. As soon as I walk in, Isaiah approaches me. He¡¯s wearing slim-fit black jeans tucked into wine-colored snakeskin cowboy boots. His top is a ripped-up, long black tee with patches the same color as his boots, filling up the missing fabrics. Matching onyx rings are on both of his middle fingers, and a rose gold chain completes the outfit. Isaiah looks like a runway model instead of my resident cleanup man.

    ¡°Welcome back, Nobody.¡±

    ¡°Hello, Isaiah. I see your cast is gone. Does that mean you''re already healed?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yep. Kai did the final check-up this morning. Gave me a clean bill of health, minus a terminal case of sexy,¡± Isaiah said, striking a pose.

    ¡°What a shame he wasn¡¯t able to remove your sense of humor. I thought he was up to the task,¡± I responded dryly.

    Isaiah stops moving behind me, and I turn to see what¡¯s up with him.

    ¡°Did you just tell a joke? You never joke. You don¡¯t laugh, and I¡¯m betting you don¡¯t even smile underneath that helmet,¡± Isaiah exclaimed.

    ¡°You must have misheard me then,¡± I said, continuing forward to the lab staircase.

    Isaiah trails right behind me as we descend the multiple floors of stairs. A little show of humor will do a lot to strengthen our bond and his loyalty. I am glad I skipped cardio this morning as we finally hit the bottom of the base. I punch the code into the door, and the two of us enter the lab. Kai is over at his drone workshop area, tinkering away at something that looks almost like an oversized rat with a blender for a mouth.

    ¡°How goes it, doctor?¡±

    He doesn¡¯t respond, instead continuing to work on the drone. Whatever he¡¯s doing is sending sparks everywhere as he works on the motherboard. I walk over to one of the office chairs and sit down while Isaiah and I wait for Kai to be finished.

    ¡°How many rats did you two trap?¡± I asked.

    ¡°There were twenty-four total, but five of them were younger, so we left them. Didn¡¯t wanna piss off V,¡± he answered.

    ¡°Twenty is a good number to work with. Your next assignment is some monster-hunting. Carapace, Phantasmo, and Big Phish all suffer from similiar conditions as you once did. Their Trigger Events all have had the effect of making them monstrous. You can handle this however you¡¯d like,¡± I said.

    If he wants to recruit them, kill them, or have me cure them, I don¡¯t care. I just need their powers.

    ¡°What if I wanna give them the same chance you gave me?¡±

    ¡°Are you asking me because you want to or because you want to know my answer?¡± I asked him.

    ¡°Does it matter?¡±

    ¡°I suppose it doesn¡¯t. I do not particularly care either way. If you can make use of them then I won¡¯t begrudge you getting minions. Vivienne already has some.¡±

    ¡°Those drug-pushing gangsters? No, I¡¯m thinking more like security. If those guys are like me, they¡¯ll be grateful enough to be fixed, let alone get a job. It¡¯ll be a little pet project for me. And if it doesn¡¯t pan out, I¡¯ll bury them myself,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Sounds like a plan. But I¡¯m leaving it all up to you; I have enough on my-¡±

    ¡°OH. When did you two get here?¡± Kai asked, interrupting our conversation.

    ¡°We¡¯ve been here for a while. You were in a daze, so I let you be,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Thank you. Sometimes, my brain is flooded with inspiration, and I have to stop whatever I¡¯m doing to focus on realizing the image in my brain. You¡¯re here to check on Subject Zero?¡±

    ¡°Yes. How is Zero doing?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s fine. Confused about her new powers and what¡¯s happening. The drugs are finally out of her system, so while lucidity is up, withdrawal is on the horizon for her. Should I expect some changes to her mood around then?¡± Kai asked.

    What a clever way to ask without alerting Isaiah. His tact is a welcome surprise.

    ¡°She may suffer from a lack of interest or be more curious about watching others due to withdrawal. Keep a close eye on her. Has she shown signs of combining powers yet?¡±

    Isaiah perks up when I mention combining. It is quite a juicy revelation, so I understand his reaction.

    ¡°No, so far, she has only been using them separately. I will definitely be on the lookout for any changes she experiences. She has continued to try and make contact despite having no success so far.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. Tell me about the new volunteers.¡±

    ¡°Subjects One through Nineteen are a wide gambit of ages, races, and health. The youngest one we have is Subject Six, a seventeen-year-old male, and the oldest is Subject Thirteen, an eighty-year-old woman. Almost all of them had some sort of sickness or unresolved injury, and I used a lot of my collection to repair them,¡± Kai said pointedly.

    ¡°Once we are set up in Quinstin, I will work on helping you restock your TinkerTech supply,¡± I said.

    ¡°Do either of you have a connection to the Merchants?¡± Isaiah asked.

    ¡°The what?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No. You need to know someone who knows someone just to vouch for you. Then, you have to pass a rigorous background check, and then you have an in-person meeting with a Broker. You have to bring something that the Merchants will want to buy, and even after all of that, you can still get blacklisted without being notified. I¡¯ve never had something to sell that they¡¯d even want,¡± Kai said.

    What are the Merchants? Being busy is no excuse for my continued ignorance about the world of Capes and Cowls. I am walking a fine line between looking relatable and seeming incompetent if I admit that I know nothing about this group.

    ¡°This is the first time I¡¯ve heard about the Merchants. Based on context clues, I¡¯m assuming they are a large commerce group of some sort,¡± I said.

    ¡°How do you not know about the Merchants?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°Because I triggered less than three months ago, and before that, I knew nothing about Nuevohumans beyond the basics,¡± I answered honestly.

    Nothing compels me to tell them this. It is a calculated risk to deepen their respect and loyalty to me. There is a slight chance it will have the opposite effect.

    ¡°You¡¯re a freaking rookie? I¡¯ll be honest: I assumed we were your second or third attempt at this whole company idea, and you had killed the previous iterations to silence them and keep your secrets,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°I am sorry to disappoint you, doctor, but this is my first rodeo. These Merchants sound interesting. Tell me about them.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re a decentralized group of buyers and sellers that operate in cells inside major cities all over the place. Their power structure and leadership are a complete secret. Their on-the-ground operations are handled by people called Brokers who will arrange meetings to buy, sell, and deliver items. They toe the neutrality line perfectly; they don¡¯t get involved or pick sides,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°True neutrality isn¡¯t actually possible. Refusal to take a side will eventually be seen as choosing one. And once you¡¯ve been designated an enemy, then you are pulled into the conflict one way or another,¡± I countered.

    ¡°That¡¯s true unless you have a monopoly on something that both sides need,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t leave me in suspense,¡± I said dryly. There is nothing worse than someone who holds information back just to create tension.

    ¡°Well, if you insist, they are the only suppliers of Hyperweave. The Heroes¡¯ Union needs it for its members¡¯ costumes, and therefore, they don¡¯t attempt to shut the organization down. They still will shut down cells and arrest members if they¡¯re caught selling contraband, but they are always tried as individuals, never as part of the group,¡± Isaiah responded.

    ¡°Do either of you know how to get in contact with a Broker?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Veritas had a connection with a Broker, but that¡¯s obviously not an option,¡± Isaiah remarked.

    I had you kill her to prove your loyalty. I do not believe I made the wrong decision, but my insistence on murdering witnesses is an obstacle of its own.

    ¡°Nope,¡± Kai answered.

    ¡°We can table it until the next board meeting. For now, I want to get started on testing. Let¡¯s go with the oldest and youngest to see if age affects anything,¡± I said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get them up here in a minute. Have you decided which powers to give them?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°Yes. For the older woman, I¡¯ll be giving her Ciggs and Lee Daeshim¡¯s powers. Smoke Alter and electricity Manipulator. Be careful with this one. She¡¯ll be able to absorb electricity and transform into a smoke cloud. Will the cell be able to hold her?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why not. I will have to shut off the power to Subject Thirteen¡¯s cell to prevent her from draining the base. I can have the vents in her room automatically shut if they detect smoke and have the power supply moved out of her room. Just give me a few to get the cell ready,¡± Kai said, tapping away on his tablet.

    The table drone comes up, holding an unconscious elderly black woman. She''s missing a few fingers on her left hand; her skin is tough and dry from weathering the elements outside for so long. She''s wearing the outfit Kai made for the subjects and sleeping peacefully. I begin the transfer while Kai makes the adjustments to her cell. I finish slightly after him, and the drone takes her away. A second table drone comes up with a guy who could''ve been in my graduating class. His hair is buzzed down to his skull, and I see faint bruises underneath the brown shirt that¡¯s a little too big for his frame. He¡¯s short, around 5¡¯7, and his tan skin is marred with healed scars. Maybe he is someone who had a tough life. The scars are faint but present, likely years old. It could be a sign of an abusive household. If he had stayed, he might have naturally triggered.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be giving him Punch¡¯s kinetic blast power and Murmur¡¯s power as well. Obviously, you both understand the importance of keeping this a secret from certain parties,¡± I said, finishing up the transfer.

    Both men nod their assent.

    ¡°Isaiah, you have your orders, and Kai, just text me updates on any changes. I have some planning to do,¡± I said, leaving the two of them behind.

 Chapter 46 - Monster Hunting (I)

    Big Phish, aka Javier Torres, is a reclusive Nuevohuman living in Littleport Harbor. He keeps to himself, rarely venturing from his lair, and the residents treat it like an urban legend. He is ostracized by anyone and everyone who knew him from before he triggered. Nobody certainly wasn¡¯t kidding about him being similar to me. His power makes his body produce a dense, moist fog. Nobody didn¡¯t give me any information about what he looked like, only to be careful not to get eaten. So it¡¯s obvious that Javier is a monster like I was.

    The drive is uneventful and long, taking me nearly three hours to get to the town. It¡¯s half past noon, and I do not want to be fighting in the dark if I can help it. Small shopping centers, quaint cottages, and overpriced coffee shops dot the town¡ªan effort to make a profit on the local beach and ignorant tourists. Javier lives in a cave underneath one of the cliffs overlooking the beach. I park the box truck I¡¯ve been using in an empty lot near the cliffside. I brought a duffel bag filled with a few things I might need: two handguns, a bowie knife, a flashlight, rope, and chains. A tactical vest over my incredibly toned chest, cargo pants that strain to contain my powerful legs while showing off just a taste of my sculpted cum gutters, jet-black steel-toed boots, and a pair of good ole American aviators. God, I look incredible. Sexually tactical or tactically sexy?

    I make my way from the lot over to the cliff. There¡¯s a large boulder I can use to tie the rope around. The ocean¡¯s waves crash below against the rocks, frothing turquoise sea foam splashing everywhere. To the right, about a half mile away, I see Littleport Beach, filled with people enjoying the sunny weather. The summer sun above radiates warmth that feels wonderful on my bare skin. The view from up here is magnificent and the ocean looks so inviting. I think I¡¯ll go for a swim when I¡¯m finished monster hunting.

    I lean off the edge, looking for the cave entrance. It doesn¡¯t take long for me to spot the bus-sized hole all the way at the bottom. Double-checking my holstered guns and that my bag is secure, I tie the end of the rope around my waist and then start to rappel down. Sharp jagged rocks jutting out of the water below me and a fall of over two hundred feet if I fuck up. I wonder if I¡¯d survive that. I¡¯m pretty confident I could shrug off getting hit by a car, but falling straight onto pointed rocks the size of my leg might genuinely be too much.

    Slowly, I descend, using my free hand to grab the rock face and kicking holes into the cliff to use as footholds. The breeze brings misty air up, wetting my skin and the rocks. As I¡¯m going down, the slickness causes my hand to slip, and I fall backward. Fuck. Falling rapidly toward the bottom, I grab the rope with my hand to try and slow down. The rope snaps, sending me tumbling over and away from the cliff. I reorientate myself in the air in an attempt to change the angle of my descent. The spikes in my sight are getting bigger and bigger. Time seems to slow as I approach. I aim toward a larger stone outcropping that¡¯s about the size of a small sedan. Tucking my knees to my chest, I try to bleed off my momentum by rolling into the rock.

    It works, sort of. I crash into it like a cannonball, blasting it into chunks and falling into the ocean. My body hurts like a bitch, but nothing feels broken as I swim up to the surface. That fucking sucked. I crawl my way up to the hole, pulling myself in. A quick check shows no injuries, but there were some casualties. Both guns are waterlogged and unusable. Thankfully, I left both my phones inside the truck. I turn the flashlight on, illuminating the cave. It¡¯s moist and humid inside. There aren¡¯t any stalagmites or stalactites; everything is barren and smooth. Odd. I walk forward and draw my knife. Just in case Javier doesn¡¯t feel too friendly.

    ¡°Leeeeeaaaaavvvvvee,¡± A deep rumbling voice said.

    ¡°Fuck me, that is scary. Mr. Big Phish, I¡¯m here to talk. Come on out.¡±

    ¡°Leeeeeaaaaavvvvvee. Not saaaaaaaaaaaafe. Still huuuuuuungry,¡± Big Phish said.

    ¡°Oh no thanks, I ate before I came. I do have an opportunity I know you¡¯ll be quite interested in,¡± I replied.

    Thick fog starts to roll out from deep within the cave. In less than thirty seconds, I¡¯m surrounded. It¡¯s so thick I can¡¯t see anything around me, and my flashlight barely penetrates five feet ahead of me. I can¡¯t hear or see anything. It¡¯s so eerily silent even my footsteps don¡¯t make a sound. Is the fog affecting my senses? Nobody¡¯s warning reverberates in my head, straining my ears for any noise.

    There is no warning, no sign of an attack, just teeth bigger than my finger and a jaw the size of my torso bursting through the fog. It¡¯s only my enhanced speed combined with years of fighting that allow me to avoid getting bitten in half. The brief glimpse I get of Javier¡¯s form is terrifying. Gunmetal gray in color, the body is bigger than my car and powerfully muscular. He jumped and landed without even scraping against the ground. This is going to be harder than I thought. I drop low, ready to dodge at the slightest disturbance.

    Where will the next bite come from? From my right, the monster¡¯s mouth emerges mere inches from my face. I fall back and plunge my knife into it. The blade pierces his skin, and he growls, disappearing back into the fog. Everything is still. This Jaws reboot sucks. There is no sound of dripping blood or breathing from Big Phish. How¡¯s he so quiet when he¡¯s so fucking huge? It¡¯s gotta be the fog; it somehow makes him undetectable. The moisture from the fog is making the floor wet, and my boots shift as I crouch down, anticipating another attack. I close my eyes; they aren¡¯t helping right now and focus on my hearing. I¡¯m waiting for the faintest noise or the slightest bit of wind from him moving around. There is sudden movement behind me, and then the creature¡¯s tail comes swinging at me like an out-of-control Quickrail. I throw both arms up to block, and it sends me crashing into the cavern wall. It hurts, but Javier has nothing on Virtue. That girl is a real monster.

    Before I can get up, he leaps at me. I tilt my head out of the way of his chomp and use my right arm to prevent him from getting any closer. With him this close to me, I can get a much better look at him. He¡¯s like a great white shark mixed with a polar bear. He¡¯s got four legs, each ending in nasty-looking black claws and bone-plated spikes on its back instead of fins. I see four rows of teeth inside a lipless mouth, small black orbs for eyes, as he gnashes his teeth together, trying to eat me.

    ¡°You¡¯re not making a good case for yourself. In fact, you¡¯re being a bit of a dick,¡± I said, struggling to keep him away.

    One of his paws is pressing against my Kevlar vest, and his claws are shredding through the vest effortlessly with every movement. He isn¡¯t responding to my words anymore; he is so utterly absorbed in trying to devour me. I¡¯m done trying. With my free hand, I start punching him in the snout. Are noses the weak point of sharks? God if only I watched more Shark Week growing up. My punches are only serving to make him angrier. I¡¯m superhumanly strong, but this creature is entirely tough muscle. It¡¯s time for plan B. I reach my free hand around to the top of the monster¡¯s head, running my palm across it until it bumps into one of his eyes. They are wet and slimy, and I can¡¯t get a grip on them. Settling for penetration, hah, I jab my index and middle fingers into the orb. They don¡¯t pop; eyes are less water balloons, more moldy fruit. Big Phish writhes, his claws slicing into my skin. I continue scooping and scraping, flinging the goop away. It''s like a back alley abortion. Instead of weakening him, it feels like he¡¯s getting stronger. A cornered animal will fight twice as hard. Each spasm worsens the pain in my back and chest.

    I can¡¯t reach the other eyeball, and I don¡¯t trust myself not to get chomped if I try to switch arms. My knife is buried somewhere in his side, but nowhere I can see or reach. He¡¯s less difficult to deal with when he¡¯s this close to me, but eventually, his claws will end up in my intestines. Reaching into the eyehole, I jab my fingers around, trying to dig deeper and find a nerve cluster or anything. I can feel my fingernails getting gunked up with shark bits. I¡¯m gonna need a manicure after all this. He thrashes against me as my hand roots around inside the hole I¡¯ve created.

    Pound for pound, I am stronger than Javier, but he''s got well over two thousand pounds on me. His thick skin isn''t necessarily tough; it''s just so dense that I can''t hurt him. The area beneath the eye doesn''t have the same protections as the rest of him, so I go back to digging around the wound I''ve made, tossing the bloody chunks aside like I''m carving a jack-o''-lantern. He¡¯s slowing down, but I got plenty of fight left in me. The fog around us is growing thinner the longer we struggle against each other.

    Eventually, I hit bone and cannot scoop anymore; Big Phish has run out of gas, lying still against me. Tentatively, I push the exhausted shark creature off myself. The fog has completely dissipated since he stopped moving. Now that it¡¯s gone, I can see how truly massive he is. He¡¯s twice as long as I was tall when I was Constrictor and his limbs are as thick as my thighs. Big Phish is one big fish. There are twelve rocky barnacle protrusions along each side of his body. They look like hand-sized volcanos and inside is tightly constricted skin. There¡¯s a joke about starfishes here waiting to be made. That must be where the fog comes from.

    I give him a few kicks with the top of my foot just to make sure he¡¯s not faking. He¡¯s alive but exhausted. The next thing is to check on myself. My Kevlar vest is in tatters, just shredded to bits. Honestly, I might be able to turn this into a nice top. I take it off, along with the bag I brought, and look at the damage to my abdomen. My beautiful pecs and abs have lacerations all over, with bits of ripped skin hanging from the sides of the wounds. Kai said that my natural healing can handle a lot, but I¡¯m gonna need to bandage this. I take off my pants and use my knife to cut them down to shorts. The cut cloth becomes bandages to dress my injuries.

    Inside my bag are the chains I brought, and I get to wrapping up my gift. The chains aren¡¯t going to be able to contain Javier, but they¡¯ll make moving him easier. Once I have him completely secure, I test to see if I can lift him. Reaching under his stomach, I cradle his body and lift. He¡¯s heavy, but I¡¯m four times stronger than I used to be, and he weighs less than a car. Javier¡¯s skin is still wet and keeps slipping out of my arms. This is why I brought extra chains. I jury-rig myself a harness that will allow me to squat the shark creature. No shirt, ripped cargo slut shorts, and chains crisscrossing my chest, I look like a caricature of gay BDSM culture.

    My hands and wrists are wrapped in thin strips of my pant legs so I can get a better grip. It takes me a minute or two to adjust the chains, but I¡¯m able to get the giant monster secure. Bend the knees and lift. Each step is fraught with danger and the possibility of falling over. I advance toward the cave entrance and the warm sun. Exiting the cave, the fresh coastal air floods my nose. Time to deliver the fish to the doctor. I look up at the cliffside and sigh. The climb back up is going to suck.

    <hr>

    Five days rest, and I¡¯m back to a hundred percent. Nobody has Big Phish¡¯s ability and the man shark is no longer amongst the living. The deep gashes are gone, and my perfectly smooth black skin is back to normal. Phantasmo is next on my list¡ªthirty-three years old, real name Miles Martinez, and a genuine grudge against Capes. He¡¯s a monstrous Alter/Traveller who can phase through objects and fly. His flight isn¡¯t that fast, however, similar to a running speed. Phantasmo is a squatter and small-time thief. Info says he tried to be a Cape and they denied him based on appearance. Some powers radically change your appearance, and it is seemingly random. Shifters are lucky because it doesn¡¯t matter what their other form looks like; they can always change back and do a press conference or an interview. Most don¡¯t get lucky enough to be like Titania. All that changed for her was her body¡¯s composition, but other than that, she looks like a regular woman.  But those like Big Phish, Phantasmo, and Carapace are trapped inside these new forms. I¡¯d still be stuck if it wasn¡¯t for Nobody.

    He lives inside an abandoned toy store and only uses his power to steal what he needs. His hideout is close enough to Carapace that if I don¡¯t have to fight him, I can handle them both tonight.

    Sal¡¯s Game Shed is a dilapidated and defunct building that Mother Nature has almost completely reclaimed. The sign is missing letters, all the windows are boarded up, and the outside is covered in ivy vines and moss. A warning spray painted on the walls says, ¡°Beware of Ghosts.¡± I pull around to the back of the store and park at the loading dock. I brought a backpack identical to what I had during my Big Phish adventure. I¡¯m hoping Phantasmo will be more responsive to my offer.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    The back door is unlocked, and I creep inside. It¡¯s dark, and the air is stale and musty. Every step I take disturbs the accumulated dust, sending a cloud of it everywhere. The shelves are empty and covered in cobwebs¡ªold cardboard promotional material of a discontinued toy line clutter the floors. This place looks truly abandoned, but Nobody wouldn¡¯t have sent me if he wasn¡¯t here. I¡¯m stepping carefully over the rotten wood and rusted metal covering the floor to move silently. I hear the telltale sounds of a generator running ahead, and I follow the sound. Here goes nothing.

    ¡°Phantasmo, you in here?¡± I yelled.

    ¡°Why are you here?¡± Said a voice from right behind me.

    I clamp down on my automatic response, leaving my guns holstered. If I hadn¡¯t been told about his ability, I might¡¯ve just killed him. Turning around, keeping my hands visible, I look at Phantasmo. He¡¯s shorter than me, probably around five foot eight, with a large balloon-like head. His eyes are inhuman, dinnerplate-sized, and with greyed-out irises. Phantasmo has no nose, no ears, and a small slit for a mouth. He is hard to look at. His eyes take up eighty percent of his face. His body is stout, sexless, and covered in thin tassels made of skin, like a flesh gillie suit. He honestly looks like an alien from the movies, down to his gray pallid skin. I thought I had it bad being Constrictor; I would¡¯ve killed myself if I looked like him.

    ¡°Hello, Phantasmo. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Isaiah Jules, and I¡¯d like to talk to you about an opportunity.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard your name before. What are you doing here?¡± Phantasmo asked cautiously.

    ¡°I¡¯m not surprised you haven¡¯t heard of me. I recently underwent a bit of a makeover. I¡¯m representing an anonymous party who is interested in you and your unique condition,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Pass. If the anonymous party can¡¯t even meet me face to face, then I¡¯m not interested in whatever you¡¯re selling,¡± Phantasmo said.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you tired of being alone?¡± I asked.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s lonely being a monster. Waking up every day and remembering you have no one. Being disgusted by the face staring at you in the mirror, knowing you¡¯re going to die alone because no one could ever love a freak. The seething rage boiling beneath the surface at life for inflicting this curse on you, battling the urge just to end it all and free yourself from the torment,¡± I said.

    Phantasmo doesn¡¯t respond, staring blankly at me. I¡¯ve been where you are, Miles. Don¡¯t make me kill you.

    ¡°I used to be like you, a disgusting creature, a freak of nature cursed to live out his days as a monster. I know what it¡¯s like to be scorned based on your appearance,¡± I said.

    ¡°I won¡¯t lie; it felt like you were looking into my heart for a moment. I¡¯m sorry, but am I expected to believe you? You, the guy who looks like he walked out of an ad for Hottest People Magazine,¡± Phantasmo retorted.

    ¡°You think so? Thank you. But believe me, I used to be an eight-foot-something lizard person, hairless and covered in scales¡ªtail and all. I was miserable, depressed, and feeling hopeless. And then, I happened to meet someone who would change my life forever. Now I have a purpose,¡± I exclaimed.

    ¡°Sorry if I call bull. You sound crazy, like a religious nut,¡± he responded.

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe in a higher power. I¡¯m a material man interested in things that are provable. You know, tangible shit; silk shirts, cold steel, and fat asses. I¡¯m not a snake oil salesman; there¡¯s a way for you to be human again,¡± I said.

    ¡°This ain¡¯t funny. You show up out of the blue and offer me a chance to be normal? This doesn¡¯t feel right; there¡¯s a trick here, I know it,¡± Phantasmo said suspiciously.

    ¡°I¡¯m not just offering you normalcy. I¡¯m offering you revenge: revenge against the Heroes¡¯ Union, who deemed you too ugly to serve, and against the people who shunned you for their shallow views. I¡¯m talking about revenge against a world that forced you into living in squalor, to steal just to survive. Look around you, Phantasmo. You aren¡¯t living; you¡¯re waiting to die,¡± I said.

    If he''s anything like I used to be, then this should work. He¡¯s desperate for a way out.

    ¡°So what¡¯s it going to be? Stay and here and waste away, or take your life back into your own hands?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m in,¡± Phantasmo mumbled.

    ¡°Speak up and say it with your chest,¡± I said.

    ¡°I¡¯m in!¡± Phantasmo yelled.

    ¡°Excellent, Miles. Yes, I know your name, and I¡¯m done calling you Phantasmo. It¡¯s a stupid fucking moniker,¡± I said.

    ¡°Because, of course, you know my name,¡± he said sarcastically.

    ¡°I came prepared. Before you are granted freedom from the prison that is your body, I need you to help me with something. Nothing too bad, there¡¯s just someone else who I¡¯m making this offer to today,¡± I said.

    ¡°It¡¯s someone else like me, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes, a woman known as Carapace. She isn¡¯t located too far from here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m happy to help, especially if it¡¯s for someone going through the same thing as me.¡±

    Phantasmo follows me to the truck. This went a lot smoother than Big Phish. He¡¯s noisy as hell, making no effort to silence his footsteps. Miles hops in the passenger side as I turn the engine on. I¡¯m tempted to bring him to base now so that I don¡¯t have to ride around with such a scrub.

    ¡°I¡¯m a little intrigued by whoever sent you, especially since you aren¡¯t scared by my appearance,¡± Phantasmo replied.

    ¡°Scared, no, slightly nauseated, a little. Kidding, I¡¯m kidding. The person who sent me is someone I would follow into the depths of hell if they asked,¡± I said.

    ¡°They sound impressive, even without the ability that they can fix people like us,¡± he said.

    ¡°You have no idea, Miles,¡± I said, pulling out of the lot.

    ¡°And Phantasmo isn¡¯t a stupid name,¡± he said.

    ¡°Whatever you say, buddy.¡±

    <hr>

    Something I learned on the way to Carapace is that Miles loves talking. I¡¯m a great listener, as any person interested in the fairer sex should be, but Miles does not shut the fuck up. Years of isolation have left him desperate for a connection and completely socially inept. I can¡¯t wait to introduce him to Rorschach, she¡¯s going to fucking hate him.

    The sun is still up when we arrive at our destination. Carapace is a Ruler, capable of creating insects within her own body. Everything about who she was before she triggered is lost; even her real name is gone. I¡¯m expecting a repeat Big Phish. Carapace has taken residence in a cabin inside a state park. I park the truck near where the intel said she lives. It isn¡¯t hard to figure out what direction we¡¯re going in; there¡¯s thick, unnatural webbing covering the trees. Far larger and more abundant than any spider could possibly create.

    ¡°You ready?¡± I asked Miles.

    ¡°So this Carapace, what¡¯s her deal?¡±

    ¡°Ruler, insectoid, and probably not going to be thrilled with us trespassing on what she thinks is her area,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Wait, you didn¡¯t say she would be hostile,¡± Miles said.

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who didn¡¯t ask me any specifics on the hour ride up here. If you weren¡¯t so obsessed with the sound of your own voice, you might have been privy to mission details. You aren¡¯t afraid to fight, are you?¡± Don¡¯t tell me he¡¯s a little bitch.

    ¡°Okay, that hurt a little bit. I¡¯m not scared, though. I¡¯ll follow your lead. What¡¯s the plan?¡±

    ¡°The plan is straightforward. We¡¯re going to break into her house so that I can make her the same offer. It¡¯s foolproof,¡± I smiled.

    ¡°That¡¯s not a plan,¡± Miles complained.

    I check my equipment once we¡¯re out of the truck. Miles watches me as I carefully inspect my twin glocks. Next is the knife attached to my belt and the two in my boots. I brought a few flashbangs and my secret weapon, a few eight-packs of Raid. Nobody said that the creatures she creates aren¡¯t any known insect; instead, they are an amalgamation of several particularly nasty variants. Phantasmo doesn¡¯t have anything to check; he¡¯s ready to go as soon as I finish.

    I walk into the dense foliage with Miles floating along behind me. The leaves combined with the bridges of silk above us mean that visibility is low, and it¡¯s much darker inside the forest than outside. I keep my eyes peeled and my head on a swivel, looking for an ambush. Or a stray tree root. Miles is quiet, which is a plus when I¡¯m trekking through the murder forest of freak bugs. Fifteen minutes go by, and nothing has happened. We haven¡¯t seen a single bug. As we¡¯re marching ahead, I finally notice something that¡¯s been bugging me. It¡¯s dead quiet. There¡¯s no sound of a breeze going through the forest, no chirping of birds, no sound at all.

    It isn¡¯t until we can see the cabin that the other shoe drops. Cocoons are hanging from the roof, silk coffins based on the vague human shape. Bursting out of the cocoons in a spray of green liquid comes a swarm of bugs. Buzzing fills the air, a cacophony of fluttering wings that is so loud it hurts my ears. The insects are the size of a clenched fist, with six sets of wings, green and purple striped bodies, and long barbed legs like a spider. Their mouths are a mix of mandibles, fangs, and proboscis, with crimson compound eyes on their oval-shaped heads. Despite all of that, the most terrifying thing is their segmented stinger that curves downward toward their thoraxes¡ªpointed and barbed for maximum pain. I really hope they can¡¯t pierce my skin.

    Looks like she isn¡¯t going to be too susceptible to talking this out. I count around fifty of them flying at us, and I don¡¯t bother trying to talk to them. I don¡¯t know if Carapace is like Rorschach in that she can hear and see out of the eyes of her creations, and I honestly don¡¯t care. I pull both guns out and start shooting. I¡¯m no marksman, and I don¡¯t have an ability that affects my aim or coordination, but when they¡¯re so many of them, it¡¯s hard not to hit something. My bullets clip wings, pop heads, and blow chunks out of their bodies. Unfortunately, unless I kill them, they continue to drag themselves at us along the ground, crawling forward in an attempt to slow us down. One of the bugs jumps off the ground at my face, and I swat it away, covering my hand in bug guts. The yellow juice bubbles on my skin. Why wouldn''t the bugs have acid blood?

    I shoot another bug out of the air and hear clicking coming from my guns. Fuck, I¡¯m out of ammo. I dive out of the way of the incoming insects to give myself a second to reload. I take a look over at Miles, and he''s gone intangible. He isn''t invisible, but he''s become translucent, and his form is slightly muddled. The insects are flying straight through him and slamming into the trees behind him. Every so often he becomes corporeal to swat a few out of the air with a branch. My original headcount was wrong. There''s gotta be at least a hundred dead on the ground.

    ¡°We need to press forward and reach the cabin. Carapace has to be inside,¡± I yelled over the buzzing.

    ¡°If you have a real plan, I''m all ears,¡± he shouted back.

    ¡°I do.¡±

    I reach into my bag and grab a flashbang. I prime it and throw it at the biggest cluster of the creatures. Facing away from the blast, I shield my eyes as it goes off. I hear the bang followed by thuds as they drop out of the air. Turning around, I see a lot of the bugs are perfectly still on the ground, stunned. Others that are farther from where the grenade went off are tragically failing to move.

    ¡°I''ll be back. Kill em before they can get up,¡± I said, tossing a knife to Miles.

    I don''t look to see if he¡¯s doing it. I leap over the downed insects, rushing toward the cabin like a running back. Holstering my guns, I put my head down and shoulder charge through the door. The door explodes inward into chips and chunks as I look around for Carapace. The inside of the cabin is basically one big web. Everywhere I look is covered in the shit, and I can''t get through it or cut it. I grab some webbing in front of me and pull. It holds for a moment before snapping at the ends and immediately clinging to my palm. Shaking it loose isn¡¯t an option, and I¡¯m afraid if I try and wipe it on my pants, my hand will stick to them.

    ¡°Carapace? You in here?¡± I asked.

    ¡°WHY ARE YOU BOTHERING US?¡±

    The voice has a raspy, buzzing quality to it. It is high-pitched in a way similar to a tea kettle boiling. She¡¯s in the bedroom down the hall, based on where the voice is coming from. I can¡¯t see down the hall from where I am stuck in the living room/kitchen area.

    ¡°I¡¯ve come to talk to you. I have a proposal I think you¡¯ll be interested in. Why don¡¯t you come out here?¡±

    I hear multiple legs tapping along the ground as Carapace comes down the hall. She¡¯s truly monstrous in a way that Constrictor, Big Phish, and Phantasmo never could be. She looks like an insectoid centaur out of Lovecraft¡¯s wet dreams. Rusty auburn chitin covers a body similar to bacteriophage. Eight segmented legs emerge out of the bottom of the base of her vaguely oval-shaped form, each ending in small hooks. She has no arms and no head. Instead, there are faces all over the body comprised of a mandible mouth and compound eyes. I count over a dozen of them in random spots along the bloated chitonous frame. I think I¡¯m gonna throw up.

    ¡°WHY HAVE YOU COME HERE? TELL US!¡±

    ¡°Ouchie, Let¡¯s try our inside voice, huh?¡± I said.

    ¡°YOU MOCK US?¡±

    ¡°Nope, sorry, just a little bit of humor. You know, try and lighten the mood. I¡¯m not gonna bullshit you here; I know someone who can fix you. Make you human again instead of this abomination,¡± I said softly.

    Sometimes, the mouths speak in unison, and then they¡¯ll speak independently. Does she have multiple brains inside that body?

    ¡°ABOMINATION? YOU DON¡¯T BELONG HERE. YOU MURDERED US. LIES,¡± they said.

    Carapace creeps closer to me, and a few of the mouths start coughing. Thick green saliva leaks out of them as the insects from outside begin to crawl out of the maws. Oh, what the fuck. Immediately, the freshly birthed bugs fly at me. I grab a Raid can and spray it straight into the face of the nearest one. It takes half a can before it drops to the ground, twitching. Okay, Plan B. The B stands for bomb. I empty the remainder of the can I¡¯m holding into my bag and chuck the bag into the center of the room. Dashing toward the door, I turn and shoot the bag as I leap through the busted doorframe. The explosion sends me flying through the air.

    I skid along the ground, wet with the acidic blood of the dead insects. Miles floats over to me, looking at me and then the cabin. Before either of us can speak, the cabin starts to burn. All the webbing is accelerating the fire, and soon, the wooden cabin is ablaze. NO! Nobody needs her alive. Carapace¡¯s many mouths are shrieking in pain as I run back into the burgeoning inferno. Inside, everything is burning, including Carapace. She¡¯s melting rapidly, and already, two legs are stumps. The fire is very hot, but my skin is durable enough to hold out. I don''t waste any time and jump across the room, wrapping my arms around the flaming creature. She¡¯s hysterical and thrashing around, but I¡¯m strong enough to drag her out of the blazing building. I toss her onto the ground and roll her around to put out the fire.

    ¡°C''mon Miles, let¡¯s get the fuck out of here. I need a shower,¡± I said, dragging Carapace by the leg.

    My clothes are burned away by both acid and fire. Miles trails behind me, floating silently like a specter. I can feel his large eyes boring a hole into my back as we walk back to the truck. He wants to say something. He helps open the back of the truck for me. Inside are chains attached to the walls and ceiling of the truck, along with faded bloodstains on the floor. I throw Carapace in there, wrapping her body and remaining limbs in chains. Once we¡¯re driving to the base, Miles¡¯ curiosity becomes too much for him to restrain.

    ¡°You told me that there was somebody you had to see after me. But I didn¡¯t think to ask if there was someone before me. What would you have done if I had said no?¡±

    ¡°Your name was on my list, along with two others. I genuinely wanted to try and spare a few people from the fate I once suffered. But no matter what, all three of you were coming with me, one way or another. I¡¯m a Cowl, Miles, and nothing gets in my way.¡±

 Chapter 47 - Morals Shall Not Impede Progress

    Deep within the base, Kai and I are inside his lab, looking over the specimen Isaiah just delivered to us before leaving. A gigantic sea monster, like something out of a movie, lies across four of the combined table drones, and his tail is still on the floor. Its chest is heaving, but the creature is unconscious. A giant crater is carved out of its face where one of the eyes used to be. I waste no time and begin draining the power. Kai and I could not possibly hope to contain this creature, especially if Isaiah¡¯s injuries are any indication.

    ¡°God, I wish we didn¡¯t have to take the power. I¡¯d love to dissect him,¡± Kai remarked sadly.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you would learn a lot from it, but he¡¯s far too dangerous in this form to be left as is. This base is not equipped to handle someone like him,¡± I said as the transfer finished.

    ¡°You¡¯re right. But the next one will be.¡±

    ¡°Careful, Doctor, I may hold you to that,¡± I said.

    Big Phish begins to change before our eyes gradually. He shrinks and contorts as his DNA is reset back to the factory model. Claws become fingernails, and gray, wet flesh gives way to sandy-colored skin. Pieces and parts change and grow as the shark becomes a man. Kai is right that it is a shame we cannot study him more. Eventually, we¡¯re left with a twenty-something man who¡¯s missing an eye.

    ¡°Fascinating. The damage he received transferred over. There¡¯s a scar on his left side from where Isaiah stabbed him. Oddly enough, despite him being in his forties, his skin is that of a person twenty to thirty years younger. Nearly no aging of the tissue, no wear or tear of musculature or even bones if my scans are correct. Nobody, we might be the first people ever to discover this. Because he spent decades as Big Phish, Javier seemingly was immune to the ravage of time. It¡¯s honestly beautiful,¡± Kai said excitedly.

    ¡°You might be correct. I said before that morals would not impede our progress, and already, we have learned something. You can autopsy him later. I would like to move on to our other subjects,¡± I said.

    ¡°Alrighty.¡±

    The table drone carries Javier away from us.  And he gives me bloodlust. Not the worst piece I have collected, but still a problematic one. I will have to be mindful not to let myself get caught up in it. The only thing that separates what we are doing from some of the more unsavory human experiments throughout history is that cruelty is a consequence, not a motivator of our actions. Isaiah said he was going to be taking a few days to rest and heal before going after Phantasmo and Carapace. It would be preferred to get actual emotions from them instead of bothersome quirks.

    ¡°How are the empowered subjects doing?¡±

    ¡°Six, Thirteen, and Zero are all adjusting to the transfer at different speeds. Zero has become more vocal than ever. She has asked if we are God, the government, aliens, and even extradimensional beings. Both Six and Thirteen are scared, but Six is adaptive and already shows signs of excitement at the prospect of having superpowers,¡± Kai answered.

    ¡°Good, keep an eye on them. Speaking of Zero, it occurs to me that using Swaim¡¯s ability may allow her to escape her cage. Do we have any hallucinogenic drugs? We should try to keep her heavily medicated; nearly catatonic is best.¡±

    ¡°What was the point of detox if we were just going to drug her again?¡± Kai grumbled.

    ¡°Yes or no on the drugs, Doctor?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Master, anything you wish, Master,¡± Kai said, hunched over and clawing at me.

    ¡°Just do it. It will make this easier in the long run,¡± I responded.

    ¡°You are not fun at all,¡± Kai whined.

    On one of the larger screens I can see all of the guests we have in their respective rooms. Subject Zero looks healthier than before and is lying down on the cot inside her room. She¡¯s holding her finger up, and it slowly dissolves before appearing across the room. Then, as soon as it appears, it¡¯s gone, and her hand is back to normal. Then, fingers begin to sprout from the walls. She shows such promise. Kai taps something on his tablet, and bluish-green gas flows into her room. Zero begins to look around the room in a panic, coughing, and then tries to hold her breath. After a minute, her lungs give up, and she breathes in the gas. She falls over, collapsing onto her bed. One of the smaller table drones enters the cell through a hole in the wall and injects some chemical concoction into her with its stinger.

    ¡°There we go. Zero gets to experience a psychotropic cocktail of my own creation. I  call it Manic Panic. It¡¯ll make her dissociate, hallucinate, and induce slight mania. It should be perfect for what you want,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°Why do you have something like that?¡± I asked. Have I misjudged Kai¡¯s moral alignment?

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re probably feeling like this is a bit too convenient. Don¡¯t worry; I¡¯m not a sex pest or a psychic. I microdose Manic Panic throughout the day. Helps my flow state and makes the edges of reality just a twinge brighter.¡±

    He was high when he operated on me. Has he been high this whole time?

    ¡°Does it affect your ability to do surgery?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It depends on who you ask. I¡¯d say it doesn¡¯t, but the medical board disagreed with me,¡± Kai laughed.

    ¡°Kai, if your recreational drug use ever affects the company or our goals, I will make you Subject Twenty,¡± I said, leaving the lab.

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    <hr>

    The last two days have passed in a blur. Today, we will ramp up our experiments and directly interact with the three empowered subjects rather than watching them and recording their actions. Nothing too crazy, just slight prodding by us. I look over at Kai sitting in front of the giant monitor and main computer. He¡¯s been so lively lately and less reserved around me¡ªa welcome change in demeanor.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan for today?¡±

    ¡°Subject Thirteen has been using her smoke power but not the electrical power, correct?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yep. She¡¯s tried to escape a few times by smoke clouding, but I¡¯ve set the vents to close on her automatically. It was actually a stroke of genius on my part, hooking up the vents to several smoke detectors. I did learn that she does not need to breathe while in that form, so I just waited her out. She hasn¡¯t shown any signs of any electricity based abilities, and I believe the lack of light is getting to her now. Two days in complete darkness is fraying the subject¡¯s sanity,¡± he replied.

    ¡°Unfortunate. But at least we were able to discover Thirteen can¡¯t generate electricity on her own. The original owner of the ability needed to absorb electricity, but I had hoped that perhaps the smoke power might compensate for it in some way. Give her a small battery, and let¡¯s see what she is capable of producing in terms of effects.¡±

    ¡°You want to start small with some double A¡¯s?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°Yes. Drop one into her cell and see what happens.¡±

    Kai walks away, leaving me alone to watch the screen showing me all of the subjects. Twenty different people, all separated into nearly identical cells, wearing the same brown outfits, trapped like rats in a maze. By the end of these four weeks, none of you will be alive. Barring exceptional circumstances, we will dispose of twenty people like trash. Standing here, observing all twenty subjects, really highlights that poverty is indiscriminate. Each of them is a main character in their own story, even if they won¡¯t amount to a footnote in mine.

    The screen focusing on Thirteen is dark and at an odd angle. The camera is no longer inside her room but outside it. Kai had to move all the electronics out of her cell to ensure she couldn¡¯t use them to escape. She¡¯s lying in her bed, muttering to herself in the darkness. The panel on the wall that Kai uses to feed them opens up, and a battery falls out onto the floor.

    ¡°Hello? Is someone there? I don¡¯t know who you are or why you¡¯re doing this, but please let me out. I won¡¯t tell anyone,¡± Thirteen moaned fearfully.

    She begins muttering a prayer to herself. The rooms are set up to receive noise, not to project it. Even if I wanted to talk to her, it is not possible. After not getting a response, she goes quiet and then carefully gets off the bed. Despite it being pitch black in her cell, she gracefully navigates the dark room, stopping in front of where the battery is. Thirteen crouches down, picking it up and staring at it intensely. So she can sense the electricity. Holding it in the palm of her left hand, she delicately pokes the battery with her finger. Her room lights up with a small flash as the electricity arcs into her appendage. She screams at the sudden light and falls backward.

    ¡°Why are you doing this to me?¡± Thirteen cried.

    Kai comes up next to me, back from whatever he was doing. ¡°Did she soak it up or just discharge it?¡± He taps his tablet and all the screens fade except for Thirteens. The feed from her room now takes up the entire display.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. Give Thirteen another battery; no, give her five,¡± I said.

    ¡°You got it,¡± he said, walking away.

    We can¡¯t risk her stealing electricity from Kai¡¯s drones, which forces Kai to deliver her batteries manually. All of this is inconvenient but necessary. Containing that power is dangerous and very difficult. One wrong move, and she escapes and kills us with a shock. I watch the five batteries drop into the room, and this time, Thirteen transforms into smoke racing for the opening. As soon as she changes, every single vent in the room shuts. The cloud bounces against the vents, but she can¡¯t muster any force in that form, so the smoke just disperses harmlessly with every bump. Kai and I watch in silence as she struggles fruitlessly. He¡¯s taking notes, but I don¡¯t bother to ask what they are about. If it is important, he will tell me. Micromanaging my people will only sour our working relationship.

    <hr>

    Two more days, and still, we are no closer to seeing if Thirteen will show a new ability. Six and Zero have both shown off new abilities, so we¡¯re going to have to take drastic measures. We will put Thirteen through a gauntlet today, pushing her to her limits. Thirteen is on an operating table in front of me, and Kai is in the process of finishing up a surgery that ensures she cannot escape anymore.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been brainstorming ideas for how to permanently prevent her from escaping. You had mentioned that the original owner of the smoke power could not transform parts of their body that were stuck with the other guy¡¯s chains. That gave me the idea for a slightly brutish solution, but a solution nonetheless,¡± Kai said.

    He¡¯s created thick metal manacles that will clasp around her limbs. Each manacle also has a thick pencil rod that will pierce through her wrists and ankles. It will no doubt be incredibly painful, but it will mean she can¡¯t escape by changing into a smoke cloud.

    ¡°And what have you come up with for feeding her electricity?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Again, it is an inelegant solution. I¡¯ve just set up twenty car batteries and some jumper cables. Thirteen can either absorb it or die,¡± Kai responded.

    He finishes tightening the bolts that go through her skin and then sets up the cables. He¡¯s also set up a safe zone behind blastproof glass for the two of us to observe.

    ¡°What are you hoping to discover with this?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not hoping for anything. I just refuse to leave any stone unturned. I know the sample size is small, but why would Zero and Six develop new abilities while Thirteen doesn¡¯t? Is it age or the specific type of powers I gave her? We will find out before today is over,¡± I said.

    ¡°I¡¯m connecting the cables now. She is going to be panicked when this wakes her up. Stand back,¡± Kai said, attaching the cables to Thirteen¡¯s body.

    Thirteen¡¯s hair stands up, and her body shakes violently from the moment Kai shocks her. Fighting against her bindings, Thirteen lets out a guttural noise unlike anything I¡¯ve ever heard. Her skin is blistering at a rapid rate, and she won¡¯t stop shaking. She tries to shift into smoke, but just like with Ciggs, the pierced portions of her person prevent her from prevailing. She is not in her cell but in the lab, and there¡¯s a chance this all goes poorly. If she dies without me noticing, I could lose the powers forever.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t draw in the electricity, you are going to die,¡± Kai said to her.

    Thirteen¡¯s screams stop suddenly. All at once, the batteries start making a popping sound as all the electricity inside them arcs into her through the air. In less than thirty seconds, the batteries are fried and melted. Thirteen¡¯s eyes shoot open, staring hatefully at the two of us. Despite her being chained to that table, injured, and over fifty years older than both of us, she¡¯s radiating power. Smoke billows off her singed flesh while grey electricity dances across her skin. The color changed. Lee Daeshim had purple lightning, while Thirteen¡¯s is grey.

    ¡°ARGH! Let me go,¡± Thirteen roared.

    ¡°Ooooh. Granny¡¯s angry,¡± Kai joked.

    ¡°What are the precautions we have if she gets off that table?¡± I asked.

    ¡°She can¡¯t get off the table.¡±

    ¡°Okay, but what if she does?¡±

    Thirteen is vibrating as smoke continues to pool around her limbs. Kai¡¯s lack of response tells me he did not account for the possibility of her escaping. I will have to shoot her and simultaneously take the powers back, all without Kai knowing. We thankfully already moved anything electrical far away from her because otherwise, she¡¯d absorb it all. We¡¯re watching her with a hawk-like focus for any changes, and we are rewarded as she flashes bright white. My helmet protects me, but Kai isn¡¯t so lucky, and he falls over, clutching his face in pain.

    Time slows to a halt as Thirteen flickers back and forth from the table to right in front of the glass. She¡¯s transformed into something else, a creature of grey lightning and thick black smoke. Thirteen has become an elemental of stormy rage. It reminds me of the first time I saw Vivienne as she fought Lee Daeshim. Gone is the frail elderly woman; standing in front of me is a being of sharp, jagged edges and cloudy smog. Her hands end in zigzagging claws, and her legs are pointed. Blindingly bright and impossibly hazy at the same time. And all it took was pushing her to her limits.

    She advances toward us, sparks zapping off her body and frying every camera drone they come in contact with. The lights in the lab flicker, and the computer screen goes dark. The filters in my helmet protect me from the smell, but the air is rich with electricity, and I feel my arm hairs rising. This was a catastrophically bad idea.

 Chapter 48 - Do You Want To Be The Match?

    Thirteen¡¯s form is changing. The stormy creature bulges as parts of her body shake violently. Her radiant glow is fading and stuttering while the smoky bits are dissipating. Like a glitch sputtering out, Thirteen is still flickering between being bound prone on the table and standing in front of the protective glass. I don¡¯t know what is happening, but I think she¡¯s running out of juice. She can¡¯t sustain this discordant form for too long. She was able to briefly become electricity and move as fast as lightning, appearing in two places at once. Now, as the energy we filled her with is fading, she¡¯s changing back. While Kai is lying on the ground in pain, I leave the makeshift bunker he made and head for Thirteen.

    Thirteen is back to being human and lying still on the table. Not dead. I can sense both powers inside her. I remove my glove and press a finger to her forehead, beginning the transfer. At least I can take back multiple powers at the same time. It would be a pain if I had to queue them up. Thirteen profusely sweats as I remove my gifts, and her skin is paler than I remember. The second the reclamation ends, her eyes flicker open, and they are a sickly orange color. Her pupils are unfocused and moving erratically.

    ¡°Why are you doing this to me?¡±

    I have no reason to speak with her; she is dying.

    ¡°Because I was curious,¡± I answered.

    She doesn¡¯t react to my voice despite how jarring it must be. She is fading fast.

    ¡°Does my life mean that little to you?

    ¡°Your life means nothing to me, Subject Thirteen. You are one of many, and I have no desire to learn the name of a corpse.¡±

    ¡°Thirteen? There are others?¡± She coughs, and a thin line of blood dribbles from her lips. ¡°You¡¯re a monster. You¡¯ll be called before God eventually, and you¡¯ll rot in hell for all eternity.¡±

    I don¡¯t respond, leaving Thirteen to die while I check on Kai. His prosthetic has transformed back into a regular arm, and his tablet is on the ground. He¡¯s getting up gradually, but he¡¯s still shielding his eyes. His goggles did nothing to protect his eyes. I offer him a hand, pulling him up.

    ¡°Thanks. Holy shit, that hurts. It feels like I microwaved my retinas,¡± Kai said, taking his goggles off.

    ¡°My helmet shielded me. Are you able to see?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, just gonna be seeing spots for a few hours,¡± he said, rubbing his eyes. ¡°What the fuck was that? I¡¯m going to have to go over the footage from my camera drones.¡±

    ¡°We were proven correct. She destroyed all your drones and might have damaged everything else. Thirteen managed to show off at least one new power, if not multiple. She transformed into an elemental form similar to Vivienne. Luckily for us, the energy requirements were too high, and she overtaxed her body.¡±

    ¡°Motherfucker. Alright, give me a few to check on everything,¡± Kai said, cradling one of his smoking drones. ¡°Do you want to end the trials for today?¡±

    ¡°We will continue as soon as you¡¯re ready. We¡¯re on a tight schedule, Doctor.¡±

    Kai rounds up the ruined drones and tosses them over by his workshop. I wait as he goes around checking that everything is still working. It doesn¡¯t take him long before the monitor is back up and showing the prisoners still locked up.

    ¡°The base is fine. No one escaped containment,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°Okay, now tell me, how are Zero and Six performing?¡±

    ¡°Zero is off, for lack of a better word. She mumbles and mutters due to the effects of Manic Panic. I¡¯ve made sure to synthesize more since I now need enough for two. The gas is distributed on a set schedule every two hours. The drug has made her less responsive but much more creative. Zero has been mass-creating body parts using Swaim¡¯s power and then shrinking those body parts down till they¡¯re almost microscopic. You know what, it¡¯s just better to show you,¡± Kai said.

    The large display monitor changes from the group shots to just Zero¡¯s room. She¡¯s lying on the bed, except she isn¡¯t all there. Zero¡¯s head and body are lying on the bed, but her pants and sleeves are clearly empty. She¡¯s twirling her head around, tongue hanging, and her limbs are nowhere to be seen. That drug is quite a concoction. The ability to shrink the portioned-off body parts is not the flashiest, but there are bound to be duds.

    ¡°As you can see, the ability isn¡¯t very useful. She can only shrink the pieces of her body that aren¡¯t attached to her. It isn¡¯t nearly as interesting as the last new ability she discovered or what Subject Six has displayed,¡± Kai said.

    The monitor switches over to Six in his room. He¡¯s punching and kicking out, clearly practicing some form of fighting style. I bet Vivienne would know. She and Tuesday should be back soon. Six continues cycling through his movements, but now, he ends each attack with a short blast of yellow kinetic energy. There is no sound coming from him, he bubbled his room off. Six is using both powers simultaneously. He¡¯s obviously got a history in martial arts. What were you doing before ending up on the streets?

    ¡°His moves are impressive, and he¡¯s using both abilities far better than either of the originals ever did. But I¡¯m not seeing anything new from him,¡± I said.

    ¡°Part of the whole ¡®don¡¯t interact with the subjects¡¯ mandate means I can¡¯t coax them into tricks for your amusement. The subjects are like zoo animals; they do what they want to do. But I¡¯ll save you the suspense. He can create force bubbles that release kinetic energy when they pop. Do you want to pull up the footage?¡± Kai asked.

    If Rorschach wasn¡¯t so emotional about Murmur, I could use that power. There are so many possible combinations I could do with it.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m alright. I want to move on to seeing the limit of the amount of powers I can give. Bring up Zero, Six, and one of the others.¡±

    ¡°Kay, just gimme a bit.¡±

    <hr>

    Three unconscious people lie in front of me. Each one of them is fully sedated and restrained. Subject Zero, Subject Six, and Subject Ten will be the guinea pigs. Subject Ten is a Caucasian woman, and while better off than Zero or Thirteen, shows telltale signs of living on the streets: mistreated injuries, scars, signs of poor diet, and a frail, thin frame.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to start with Zero,¡± I said.

    ¡°What are you giving her now?¡±

    ¡°A Mentalist/Manipulator that grants the ability to see trajectories and make things bouncier in a way that ignores physics.¡±

    ¡°Alright, I added it to her file. You can start whenever you¡¯re ready,¡± Kai said.

    I touch her wrist and send the power into her. There is a chance that it won¡¯t work, and that two is the limit. Both Kai and I wait for any signs of rejection, but none comes. The power is inside her, along with the other two. Subject Zero is peacefully sleeping, and there are no visible changes.

    ¡°Scans say that she¡¯s perfectly fine. This changes everything. If two isn¡¯t the limit and the abilities keep combining, you could make the next Apex. We could birth a god,¡± Kai said giddily. ¡°Sorry, I shouldn¡¯t get ahead of myself. There is still a chance that Zero is an anomaly, and further tests are needed. What are you planning to give Six?¡±

    ¡°For Six, I¡¯m going to give him Constrictor¡¯s power. I doubt that it will have any quality synergistic value, but I¡¯m running low on powers that aren¡¯t too dangerous to give,¡± I said.

    I transfer the power to Subject Six and Kai whistles at the transformation. Every scar on his body starts to heal as his tanned skin shifts hues over to a cloudy green. Flesh changes to scales, body hair falls away, fingernails become claws, and his head shape shifts from mammalian to a more reptilian one. His mouth splits at the seams, giving both of us a front-row view of his teeth sharpening and lengthening and his lips bubbling away. Six¡¯s tongue grows, becoming forked and long. I thought he would just look like Isaiah did, but it¡¯s clear now that Six is less bulky and much more lithe than Constrictor was. He¡¯s taller and longer. Where Isaiah was crocodile-like, Six is much more serpentine. The brown shirt is now a crop top, and the pants have become capris. His tail thumps as it hits the floor, hanging loosely off the table.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°He¡¯s completely different from Isaiah. The power doesn¡¯t grant much of a size change beyond height. Absolutely fascinating. You know there¡¯s probably a certain group of people who would pay for you to change them into this,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°I have no interest in helping strangers live out their perverse pleasures,¡± I rebuked.

    ¡°More of a missionary man, huh?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°Kai, do not confuse me for the others. My anonymity extends to every part of my life. Do not forget that.¡±

    ¡°Understood,¡± he said sheepishly.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to give Subject Ten the original combination we gave Zero: gravity and telekinesis. For the final ability, I¡¯m going to need our Cape.¡±

    I start the transfer of the first two powers while I wait for the table drone to bring Offset to me. The transfer happens without a hitch and I hear the tapping of the table drone as it brings me the mutilated Cape. It is time-consuming to have to pretend that I need five minutes to take the power back, but a secret does require secrecy. Once Offset¡¯s power is back within me, I start the process of giving it to Subject Ten. I don¡¯t have enough stolen powers to run this with more than three subjects. There is no telling when Tuesday and Vivienne will be going after the White Knights, and Isaiah isn¡¯t back with the other two monsters yet.

    The seconds tick by until the five-minute mark, and then Subject Ten wakes up. The woman screams so loud I feel it in my bones. She¡¯s having a seizure, her body jolting around under the restraints. Her eyes roll back into her head and Kai¡¯s machines are blinking warnings.

    ¡°What the fuck is happening?¡± Kai yelled over the noise.

    ¡°I gave her the third power. You said she was sedated.¡±

    ¡°She was! Look at Six and Zero, they all got the same dosage. Out of the way, I have to make sure she doesn¡¯t bite her tongue off,¡± Kai said, rushing over.

    What happened? What went wrong?

    Kai¡¯s arm transforms. He uses the points to hold her head steady, keep her mouth open, and stop her from biting her tongue. This looks like a scene out of a dental-themed horror movie. I did everything exactly the same as the others, so why is this different? Ten¡¯s seizure continues for over twenty minutes, and Kai is forced to stay in one spot to keep her alive. Eventually, she stops and passes out.

    ¡°That was an abnormally long seizure, was it not, Doctor?¡±

    ¡°If by abnormally long you mean four times the longest recorded one, then yes,¡± Kai snapped at me.

    Is the stress of today started to wear on him? ¡°Are you all set to continue, Kai?¡±

    ¡°You know what? No. We¡¯re calling it for today. I have a ton of tests to run on all of them, and I have to find out what happened to Subject Ten. My eyes still hurt like a bitch, and I have to rebuild my camera drones. We can continue tomorrow,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°Alright, I don¡¯t mind stopping,¡± I said, leaving the lab.

    <hr>

    ¡°How are your eyes feeling?¡±

    ¡°Much better, and I¡¯ve upgraded my goggles with new lenses that should hopefully mitigate any injuries to my eyes if another subject goes haywire,¡± Kai said, showing off his new goggles with even thicker lenses.

    ¡°Is everything all set for us to continue?¡±

    ¡°Yes, cleaned everything up and spent a bit salvaging what I could from the fried camera drones. Thirteen¡¯s body is in the freezer and I¡¯ll let you know if I find anything anomalous.¡±

    ¡°And what about Ten?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s braindead,¡± Kai said casually. ¡°All brain activity has stopped, and without the machines, she will die.¡±

    ¡°Do you have any idea why?¡±

    Kai flips his tablet over, showing me what looks like MRI footage. He presses play on the video, and I see the brain diagram flashing as more and more sections light up.

    ¡°The second you gave her the power, her limbic system lit up like the Vegas Strip. She''s a vegetable,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°What about Zero and Six?¡±

    ¡°I went over the readings and their brains lit up when you gave them the third power as well. The activity was centered around the amygdala and the hippocampus and, in Subject Ten¡¯s case seems to have been overloaded. The process by which the third power is transferred seems to put the brain under extreme duress, and I wouldn¡¯t be surprised to learn that there are hallucinations involved. We will have to wait for the two of them to wake up to figure out what kind of long-term effects the experience had on them.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re still not awake?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No. And if we attempt to wake them before they are ready, there could be complications,¡± Kai answered.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to be removing the powers. Dispose of Subject Ten once your autopsy is done.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    My phone rings as I finish up. Why is Isaiah calling me instead of texting?

    ¡°Hey, Nobody, I¡¯m on my way back now,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°Which one are you bringing back?¡±

    ¡°Both of them. Phantasmo took my offer, and together, we were able to capture Carapace. Heads up, she is fucking huge. We should be there in about ten,¡± he said.

    ¡°I will meet you when you get here.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha,¡± Isaiah replied, hanging up.

    ¡°Who was that?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°Isaiah, and he¡¯s brought a friend. We¡¯ll need a few table drones. We may have a Big Phish situation on our hands.¡±

    I head for the staircase, leaving Kai to organize the lab and send his drones along after me. The main room isn¡¯t one I have spent much, if any, time in. Uncluttered and designed with an open floor concept that would make Daniel proud. I don¡¯t even know what the inside of the break room looks like. That is purposeful; employees cannot relax with their boss in the room. The table drones come clinking along, joining me. I count the minutes while I wait for Isaiah to arrive. Keeping time is not a compulsion, but it is an activity I frequently find myself drawn to. It is a careful balancing act, keeping so many plates spinning, and it¡¯s only made possible by my meticulous sense of timing.

    ¡°He¡¯s back. I¡¯m opening the main doors to let the truck in,¡± Kai said over the speakers.

    The large warehouse doors creak open. I was unaware those opened. In comes the truck, along with sunlight from outside. In the passenger seat is a jellyfish-like ghoul masquerading as a man. Phantasmo. Isaiah hops out of the truck, and the warehouse doors shut. Phantasmo slips out of the truck, and I notice he¡¯s shorter than I imagined. The way he moves is floaty, even when he¡¯s walking. Is it a possible side effect of his ability, or is it just his unique anatomy?

    ¡°Hey, boss. This is Phantasmo,¡± Isaiah said, slapping him on the back.

    ¡°Uh, well. Hello. Sir,¡± he said.

    Awkward and immediately deferential. A man who has long forgotten whatever social skills he once had. Someone who will be easily manipulated but remarkably genuine.

    ¡°Hello, Phantasmo.¡± He nearly jumps at the sound of my voice. ¡°You can call me Nobody. I am the one in charge of this operation. I hear you have taken Isaiah up on his offer.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, he said you could fix me?¡± Phantasmo said hopefully.

    ¡°I can. I¡¯d like to have a little chat before that. Isaiah, get Carapace down to the doctor; I will be down when we¡¯ve finished,¡± I said.

    Isaiah walks away to open the truck, with the table drones trailing him.

    ¡°Follow me.¡±

    I head toward the large double doors with Phantasmo floating behind me. He quietly hovers along as I lead him through the base. He follows me into the empty conference room, and I motion for him to take a seat across from me. Sitting so closely, I am subjected to his unsightly form. Gelatinous, wriggly flesh ribbons trail off every part of his body. He¡¯s a faded gray color like that of over-oxidized meat, and his large puppy-dog eyes tremble as he stares at me. Time to begin the dance.

    ¡°As I said downstairs, my name is Nobody, and I am the only person in the world who can fix you. My moniker isn¡¯t accidental. Anonymity is paramount to everything you see here. My offer to remove the burden you¡¯ve been shouldering all these years has only one string attached to it: your silence and willingness to forget everything you¡¯ve seen here. But Miles, if you decide to talk to anyone about me or this place, I will cut your tongue out and pluck your eyes from your skull. There is nowhere you could hide that I could not find you,¡± I said.

    ¡°Jesus Christ,¡± he mumbled. Miles¡¯ weird head twitches before looking up at me. ¡°But you can do it, right? You can make me normal? You would do that for me and for free?¡±

    ¡°Yes, in exchange for your silence, I can make you human again.¡±

    The silence in the conference room is so thick I could slice it. Not just a threat but a promise of what could happen if he fails to uphold the bargain.

    ¡°Miles, do you agree to my terms?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t be surprised you know my name, but it¡¯s still unnerving. I have to be honest; this is all moving so fast that I''m kinda getting cold feet, but it¡¯s probably just my anxiety talking. I gave up on any dreams of a normal life years ago, so I can''t help but feel odd. Sorry. I¡¯m stalling. I accept your terms. What do I have to do?¡± Miles asked.

    ¡°Just give me your hand.¡±

    I take his damp, gross appendage in mine and start to absorb his ability. Miles immediately starts fidgeting in place, but as the absorption finishes, he goes still. Phantasmo is no more, leaving behind the man Miles Martinez freed from his previous circumstances.

    Miles is on the shorter side, about five-eight and stocky. He isn¡¯t heavy set but sturdy like a nightstand. Miles has bronze skin, brown eyes, and a wider face with a full beard and mustache that doesn¡¯t connect. His dark curly hair is a cross between a mullet and a wolf cut, but even more unruly. And just like Isaiah, he¡¯s completely naked after transforming. He spends a few minutes inspecting his body before the reality sets in, and he quickly uses his hands to cover himself.

    ¡°Oh my god. Sorry. I didn¡¯t think to bring clothes or anything,¡± Miles said, blushing.

    At least he has a sense of shame. ¡°Kai, send a drone with clothes to the conference room,¡± I said aloud.

    ¡°What, why? Ohhh, ohoho. I see,¡± Kai replied over the speaker.

    ¡°Miles, I¡¯d like to talk to you about an unrelated topic. You are obviously free to go whenever you''d like, but I''d like to propose something,¡± I said.

    The blush on Miles¡¯ face is fading, and his face is an open book, revealing his interest plainly. Now that he''s human, I can read him. His file suggests he could be receptive to emotional manipulation. He is a loner not by choice but by circumstance, desperate for a place to belong. The others can fill the role of a found family quite easily. They all have strong personalities that will give him a sense of safety. Miles is a follower.

    A camera drone flies into the room with one of the outfits Kai created for the subjects. Miles wastes no time and throws both the shirt and pants on. The pants are bunched up around his ankles, and the shirt doesn''t cover his stomach, pulling tightly around his chest. Still, it offers him a bit of modesty, and he visibly relaxes. He is more comfortable now that he¡¯s clothed, but he¡¯s having trouble looking directly at me.

    ¡°Thank you for the clothes. What was the other thing that you wanted to speak about? The least I can do is hear you out after what you¡¯ve given me,¡± Miles said.

    ¡°Miles, do you think the world we live in is fair?¡±

    ¡°No, it absolutely isn¡¯t. The world is only fair to those who are favored and brutal to everyone else. The haves and have-nots.¡±

    ¡°Do you believe Neuvohumans are inherently superior to regular people?¡±

    ¡°Not at all. I¡¯d even say that most of them are worse than the majority. I think that Triggering brings out the good and the bad inside us. And whichever you have more of tends to hold the reins.¡±

    ¡°What are your thoughts on the Heroes¡¯ Union?¡±

    A pulse of raw anger ripples across his features, his lips turn to a snarl, and his drumming fingers clench into a fist. He is still upset about it.

    ¡°A bunch of hypocrites pretending to be heroes. They don¡¯t care about making a difference if it isn¡¯t marketable. There¡¯s a reason they only exist in major metropolitan cities, they don¡¯t care about crime or famine if it¡¯s happening somewhere without wifi. They are frauds, plain and simple,¡± Miles answered.

    ¡°They rejected your application, didn¡¯t they?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve clearly done your research into me. Yes, they said I ¡®wasn¡¯t the right fit.¡¯ What they meant was that I was too ugly to be sellable to the masses.¡±

    ¡°Do you hate the Heroes¡¯ Union?¡±

    Miles stares at me but doesn¡¯t answer right away. A thin line of stoking his resentment to make him malleable.

    ¡°I thought my life ended when I triggered and turned into that creature, but the truth is my life ended the day they rejected me. The Heroes¡¯ Union was my only chance to be able to make a living while looking like I did. I¡¯d have spent the rest of my life in that toy store if you hadn¡¯t sent Isaiah to look for me. It boils my blood when I think about that moment. My feelings toward the Heroes¡¯ Union go so far past hate. There might be good Capes, but the organization is corrupted and deserves to be burned to the ground.¡±

    ¡°Final question, Miles. Do you want to be the match?¡±

 Chapter 49 - Board Meeting II

    ¡°Before we officially begin the second board meeting, I want to call attention to something. I set a list of goals that were only achievable if you all were willing to go at a breakneck pace. We aren''t finished quite yet, but you have all exceeded my expectations. Each of you has been out working to help lay the groundwork for our future. In less than ten days, we will be leaving this base behind. I won''t say that none of this would be possible without all of you specifically, but it has made things much smoother,¡± I said. A somewhat lighthearted opening to the meeting will help Miles feel more comfortable and make me seem more relaxed.

    ¡°This feels a lot less like a thank you and a lot more like all of us are replaceable,¡± Tuesday chimed in.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to introduce our new Director of Marketing,¡± I said, ignoring her.

    ¡°OH. Hi, I¡¯m Miles Martinez, and I¡¯m thankful and excited to be working with everyone. Like Nobody said, I¡¯ll be the Director of Marketing and all that that entails,¡± Miles said, knocking his chair over as he stands up. ¡°Fudge. I think we¡¯ll do great things together¡ªjust a ton of good crime and business.¡±

    ¡°Is this a goddamn joke? Where the fuck did you find this clown?¡± Rorschach asked.

    ¡°I can assure you that this isn¡¯t a joke. Mr. Martinez is a lot of things, but a clown is not one of them,¡± I countered.

    ¡°Rorschach, I vouched for him,¡± Isaiah said.

    Rorschach doesn¡¯t have eyebrows, but her facial tattoos move, showing her surprise at his declaration. I haven¡¯t seen Miles since I recruited him to the company. In fact, the only ones I¡¯ve seen as of late are Kai and Vivienne when she is chauffeuring me back and forth to the base. I cannot wait until Quinstin. It will be much easier to get around once I¡¯m there. Am I putting too much stock into keeping my identity a secret from the rest of them? I cannot deny that it has been an inconvenience and prevented me from being able to be here as often as I need to be.

    ¡°I think he¡¯s adorable, and I vote to keep him!¡± Tuesday announced in a child¡¯s voice.

    ¡°Can we please get on with this meeting?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°Boo! You are no fun at all,¡± Tuesday replied.

    ¡°Continuing on, each of you has been hard at work accomplishing various tasks. Who would like to go first?¡± I asked the group.

    ¡°Tuesday and I took a road trip up to Vermont to see what the White Knight Militia Group¡¯s compound is like. They are seriously tapped. They have all sorts of weapons, and they take security very seriously. These nutjobs are dangerous,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°The place is like an army base, with round-the-clock security checking the woodlands area at all times. They always move in groups. I managed to sneak in and it¡¯s actually quite impressive what they¡¯ve accomplished. They¡¯ve created a self-sufficient homestead across the twenty acres of land they own. Water wells on the river that go through the property power the generators that fuel everything. The property line is denoted by the thirty-foot-tall concrete wall that surrounds the entire compound. The projected headcount is about three hundred people in total,¡± Tuesday added, her voice back to normal.

    ¡°Of the three hundred, only fiftyish are combatants. But each one is trained. They are less of a militia and more like a squad of marines. We didn¡¯t manage to get eyes on the Neuvohumans. This is certainly a challenge you¡¯ve given me, bossman. I can¡¯t wait to get started,¡± V said.

    ¡°I know you need the four Neuvohumans, but what about the rest of them?¡± Tuesday asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care as long as I get what I want.¡±

    ¡°Wonderful,¡± Tuesday said.

    ¡°The plan is to leave in three days if that¡¯s okay,¡± V said.

    ¡°That¡¯s acceptable. Tuesday, did you take care of Mr. Swaim?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± she purred. ¡°Isaiah showed me how you like it handled. We chose a park this time.¡±

    Isaiah nods his head in agreement.

    ¡°And I made sure that several news stations happened to find it before the police,¡± Miles said. Everyone turns to look at him. ¡°I¡¯m the Director of Marketing; it¡¯s in the job description.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go next, then. Besides handling Jeremy with Tuesday, I also went out monster hunting. I successfully captured all three of them.¡±

    Interesting that he doesn¡¯t tell everyone that Miles was one of them. Are they friends?

    ¡°Excellent, that leaves Kai and Rorschach. Doctor, we will save you for last,¡± I said, motioning toward Rorschach.

    ¡°While the rest of you have been out there fighting monsters and killing people. I have been taking care of everything else. My fence was ecstatic about the gold, and I ended up getting us 510,000 dollars for it,¡± she said.

    ¡°Holy shit, that¡¯s a lot of money,¡± V said.

    ¡°Attagirl,¡± Tuesday screamed.

    Miles claps, Isaiah whistles, and Kai looks annoyed by all the noise.

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°Yes, shower me in praise and gestures of admiration. I am, in fact, that bitch. But that isn¡¯t all I¡¯ve accomplished. I met with Nicholas to get the LLC filed and squared away. All of us, minus Nobody, are now board members of Momentus Inc. I have also put a considerable amount of our total funds into the investment account attached to the card Vivienne acquired. After this meeting, I will add Mr. Martinez to it as well,¡± Rorschach said.

    ¡°Excellent work Rorschach. You have done remarkably well. Was Mr. Holmes amicable?¡± I asked.

    ¡°You and the bunny girl put the fear of god in him. He bent over backward to be helpful,¡± she answered.

    ¡°Good, I don¡¯t want to have to pay him a visit. Vivienne, make sure that your pet project takes good care of Nicholas. A good lawyer is hard to find.¡±

    ¡°You got it,¡± V said.

    ¡°It¡¯s rude to interrupt a girl before she finishes. I found and purchased two properties that met your criteria: a low-income apartment complex that¡¯s in very bad shape and an old manufacturing plant. They are located within the abandoned district. They are cheap, considered not worth it to fix them, and both are located in gang territory¡ªtwo shitholes, just like you asked. They are both now under the Momentus Inc. umbrella.¡±

    ¡°Damn, you¡¯ve been busy, girl. Makes me feel like I haven¡¯t been pulling my weight,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°Oh, and all of you need to sign this employment contract,¡± Rorschach said, pulling out several large packets from a binder. ¡°I set it up like you asked, Nobody.¡±

    Everyone spends a few minutes reviewing the admittedly verbose and specific language governing their employment. Nicholas did a great job making sure everything checked out and was legitimate. Operating within the law requires pages and pages of nonsense. Bureaucracy just isn¡¯t as sexy as crime.

    ¡°YOU¡¯RE PAYING US TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS?¡± Tuesday shouted.

    ¡°With healthcare, insurance, 401k, and PTO? This doesn¡¯t feel real,¡± Isaiah said.

    ¡°You did it, Nobody. You kept your promise,¡± Vivienne said, smiling.

    ¡°We did it. All of you helped make this a reality. The salary is a preliminary estimation of what I think we can feasibly accomplish before the end of the year. Next year, during each financial quarter, we can talk about raises, but the lowest any of you will make in a calendar year will be a quarter of a million dollars. All of you have an ownership stake in the company, so the company''s success translates directly to your personal success. Is that all that you have to share, Rorschach?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m done.¡±

    ¡°Then all that leaves is you, Kai. Now, before he starts, I¡¯d like to remind you all about my need for anonymity. What the doctor is about to share can never leave this group. Kai and I have been running an experiment to map out the parameters of my ability fully,¡± I said.

    ¡°Yes, and it has been absolutely fascinating. We used twenty-two subjects to figure out three facts about Nobody¡¯s ability. The first is that absolutely every person is capable of having two powers. That includes whether someone was originally a Neuvohuman or not. The second is that abilities given by Nobody will combine, creating an additional ability, if not more. These new powers run the gamut between dull and extraordinary. The caveat is that Nobody cannot remove these fused powers, they can only exist within someone who has the two original powers. The third and final thing we learned is less of a fact, but there exist certain people who can accept more than two powers. Out of the twenty-two volunteers, only two were capable of accepting more than two abilities. There is a consecutive mental block after the second gift that must be overcome. We have not managed to lock down the exact reason some people are able to accept more powers. We do know it¡¯s unrelated to age, sex, or race,¡± Kai said.

    He is giving quite an informative and scholarly presentation.

    ¡°So second abilities are safe. That means I can have the one I asked for, Nobody?¡± Isaiah said with a grin.

    ¡°Yes. I have a few powers on hand that would benefit a few of you, but that¡¯s for later,¡± I answered.

    ¡°You said two of twenty-two. What happened to the rest of them?¡± Tuesday asked.

    ¡°They unfortunately passed. But it was all for the amazing cause of scientific progress,¡± Kai chuckled.

    ¡°Disgusting,¡± Rorschach spat.

    ¡°My happiness isn¡¯t that people are dead; it¡¯s at discovering the unknown. You wouldn¡¯t understand. You couldn¡¯t possibly understand,¡± Kai retorted.

    An open argument ensues as the two of them go back and forth on the morality of our experiment. Nestled within my chest are all the powers I have collected so far. There are so many powers and so many personality pieces all mingling inside me. Miles and Carapace gave me playfulness and irritability, respectively. There¡¯s just so much feeling everywhere and at all times. It is overwhelming trying to come to grips with all the new emotions I¡¯m experiencing. How do people deal with all these feelings at all times? I am being pulled in different directions subconsciously. Every action and thought I have is being slightly altered by the people I have absorbed.

    ¡°Enough,¡± I said, silencing everyone. ¡°The meeting is adjourned. Kai will be renovating both of the buildings, but until he has finished, you will all need temporary lodgings.¡±

    ¡°I will have bank accounts and cards ready by the end of the week. Everyone will get paid on a biweekly schedule, so everyone will have money to get a hotel for now,¡± Rorschach added as everyone got up.

    ¡°Isaiah, I¡¯d like you to stay behind,¡± I said.

    He sits back down as everyone else files out of the conference room. I wait until they¡¯ve all left before addressing him. He¡¯s happy, knowing what¡¯s coming. How to broach the subject? I should just be forward and blunt with him.

    ¡°I know you are excited about the smoke power I promised you, but I have an idea I want to run by you first. Throughout the testing, there was an ability that worked extremely well with every other power, always resulting in interesting secondary powers and effects. I believe that you could be among those who can handle three powers, and I think that is the best course of action to make you a true powerhouse threat. Even more so than you already are. Do you trust me, Isaiah?¡±

    It is unfair to ask when I already know the answer, but he should at least vocalize it. His loyalty to me is unshakeable, and I have no doubt he will say yes. The personality piece makes the question nothing more than a formality. The real question is whether I can save Isaiah using my failsafe and whether it is worth revealing that.

    ¡°What are the odds I die?¡±

    ¡°I will be completely honest with you; the odds are fifty-fifty. Personally, I believe you will pull through.¡±

    ¡°Will this help you achieve your goals?¡±

    ¡°It will. If my theory is correct, there will be nowhere you cannot access, and no one will be able to stop you. Everything we want, everything I want to accomplish will be easier,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll do it. I just hope I don¡¯t disappoint you,¡± he grinned.

    I walk over and sit down next to him. It would be a great loss if he does not survive. I chose him, and there is no chance I chose someone ordinary. Luck favors the bold, and at the end of the day, every person is measured by their worth to me. I place two fingers against his wrist and focus on the two powers I want to send to him. Erisate and Ciggs'' powers flow between us. I¡¯m watching him intently, checking for any sign that he is struggling. The seconds stretch out to infinity while I count in my head. I am waiting for the other shoe to drop and for my pride to get him killed, but nothing happens. The five minutes pass, and Isaiah is still conscious, alive, and cognizant. It was a success. Of course, the man I chose would succeed. He holds his hand in front of his face, and the edges start to smoke before his arm dissipates into a smokey tendril.

    ¡°It might take a bit for you to fully understand the powers, so you should practice all of them. I don¡¯t want to influence you in any way, so just keep me briefed on any changes or discoveries.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Nobody. I won¡¯t let you down, and I¡¯ll live up to the faith you¡¯ve placed in me,¡± Isaiah declared.

    ¡°There was never any doubt that you would.¡±

    My real phone vibrates in my pocket.

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to that,¡± Isaiah said, transforming into a smoke cloud and spiraling out the door.

    (Maria): Eryk, you can¡¯t just ignore me. I¡¯ve apologized a hundred times and you still won¡¯t even answer my texts? I¡¯m willing to do anything to make it up to you. Please, please, please stop declining my calls and leaving me on read. I love you more than life itself, and I can¡¯t survive without you. I¡¯m sorry, why won¡¯t you give me a second chance? Don¡¯t throw away two years over a stupid mistake I made. I love you forever and always.

    A throbbing pulse of irritation goes through me. She is so fucking annoying. Why can¡¯t she take a fucking hint? I feel my face getting hot inside the helmet as all the negative personality pieces play off one another. I cannot deal with her anymore. I have to break up with her.

    I can¡¯t do this anymore. Stop contacting me. :(Eryk)

    (Maria): What are you saying? You don¡¯t mean that.

    It means I¡¯m breaking up with you. We¡¯re done. :(Eryk)

    I shut my phone off as soon as she starts calling me.

 Chapter 50 - Nazis Dont Deserve Trees (V)

    The White Knight Militia Group¡¯s compound feels impossibly vast and beautiful. The hilly terrain is absolutely covered in birch and maple trees. Nazis don¡¯t deserve trees. Nobody gave me the task of kicking the shit out of some racists, and that¡¯s what I¡¯m going to do.

    ¡°You still haven¡¯t told me the plan yet. You do have a plan, right?¡± Tuesday asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to go in there and cause enough of a problem that they will have to send everything at me, including their Neuvohumans. Then I will fight them, they will lose, and then we¡¯ll leave,¡± I answered matter-of-factly.

    ¡°That¡¯s not a plan,¡± Tuesday said.

    ¡°Of course it is. I plan on beating the shit out of some nazis, so I will.¡±

    ¡°Listen, I love me some good joshin¡¯ around and can totally vibe with the who gives a fuck attitude. But I am not bulletproof and would rather not die here by being turned into Swiss cheese,¡± Tuesday said.

    Something I learned during our girls¡¯ trip is that Tuesday can be serious when Nobody isn¡¯t around. She''s trying to get a rise out of him; she¡¯s made it her life mission.

    ¡°You could stay in the truck, and the mission would still succeed. You haven¡¯t seen what I can do yet, but just know that I could take on this entire compound and burn it to the ground,¡± I said.

    ¡°Oh yeah?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. You aren¡¯t here as my backup; you¡¯re here as an executioner. Wait until you hear the alarms, and then head inside. These fuckbags don¡¯t deserve to have a place like this. I want to cripple them as a group permanently. While I¡¯m drawing attention and fighting, you need to destroy their generators, their food supplies, everything. And remember no children,¡± I said.

    ¡°I¡¯m an executioner? Me likey. And don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll do my darndest to avoid hurtin¡¯ any of the youngins¡ªScout¡¯s honor. Cross my heart and hope to die,¡± she said, sporting a western cowboy accent.

    ¡°Quit fucking around, Tuesday, I know you¡¯ve got your whole badass psycho-killer thing going, but you will not cross that line with me or else,¡± I said, grabbing her shirt.

    ¡°Or else what?¡± She asked, stretching out the A and batting her eyelashes.

    I clench and unclench my hold on her shirt, debating if hitting her now would be warranted. No, think of what Nobody would do. I step out of the truck and look at her big, stupid grin.

    ¡°Or else I will show you why I¡¯m enough to handle four Cowls.¡±

    I close the door and stretch, making sure my body feels loose and limber. Everyone in there is a monster except the kids. You don¡¯t need to hold back. I shift, instantly feeling the burning heat in my chest wash over me. The gated entrance is a half-mile away, and at a full sprint, I¡¯m eating up the distance like it¡¯s nothing. My long, powerful legs launch me forward; the wind whistling in my ears and the sound of crushing pavement are all I can hear. This is fun.

    The wall gets closer and bigger as I approach. The wall is a massive thirty-foot-tall concrete barrier, curving outwards at the top and covered in barbed wire. The gate itself is made up of two solid metal slabs, each eight feet tall. Both sides of the gate have holes for guns to fire out of, and there are always at least six people manning it. It¡¯s nighttime, and the moon isn¡¯t out. Without any lights, there is no doubt they can see me coming. You aren¡¯t ready for me. I can hear shouting and the crooning of alarms going off. I must look like the sun itself is approaching them.

    Rifle barrels begin popping through the slits in the wall, and then a symphony of gunfire so loud it silences the alarms erupts into the night. The bullets bounce off me, and they change tactics when I don¡¯t slow down my charge at all. The bullets stop for a moment, and then I hear whirring. They¡¯re bringing out the big guns. Two miniguns pop out of the slots and unload an avalanche of ammunition at me. The larger caliber bullets ricochet off of me and blast chunks out of the road. I can hear them freaking out from behind the wall, and I smile as I crash into the gate. The metal does nothing to impede my charge, but instead of tearing through it like I thought I would, the concrete around it disintegrates as I push the gate forward.

    Dust explodes into the air, and chunks of rock shower all around. I hear boots clamoring all around me as at least sixteen people form a semicircle around me. These aren''t worthy opponents, and I am not here for a good fight. I hear the sounds of rifles loading their magazines, and then I see red lasers sweep through the cloud. From Tuesday''s earlier recon, I know they have a treasure trove of military-grade weapons. I tense myself, ready to jump as the lasers drift through the dust before zeroing in on me.

    ¡°FIRE!¡±

    The sixteen guns fire in near-perfect unison, punching holes in the dust clouds as the bullets blunt themselves against my hardened skin. They continue firing even as the dust disperses. I was right. Sixteen men, all wearing blue tactical gear, adorned with crosses, swastikas and other nazi symbols. All of them are white, clean-shaven, and crouched on one knee, aiming their gun at me.

    ¡°Where have you come from, demon? And why have you descended on our holy land?¡±

    Oh great, they aren''t just religious racists; they''re also crazy. I¡¯m sure Nobody won''t mind if I fuck with them a little.

    ¡°I''m here to crush your strongest and then take them away,¡± I said, laughing maniacally.

    ¡°FIRE!¡±

    Another storm of bullets whips up as they continue to shoot at me.

    ¡°THAT WON''T WORK. I''M OBVIOUSLY BULLETPROOF,¡± I shouted over the gunfire.

    They ignore my advice and keep wasting ammo. All this time, from the moment I first transformed and started running, I''ve been heating up. I feel the heat in my core bubbling and boiling over. It¡¯s a nice feeling as my temperature rises and the ground beneath my bare feet warms from my touch. They are very well-trained, and their movements are nearly synchronized. The problem with that is that they''ll all be reloading at the same time. I wait it out and then strike at the man who spoke. A straight kick to his chest sends him flying through the air. The group scrambles back, some of them brandishing their sidearms while others whip out knives and shock batons.

    The pistols don''t do anything as I rampage; each hit I make incapacitates another one of these clowns. I¡¯m holding back like I always do, but I am incapacitating every single one of them. A punch to the chest, an elbow to the spine, a spinning kick to the waist, all designed to cripple permanently. I won¡¯t kill them, but they will live out the rest of their lives in painful misery. One of the knife wielders charges at me, and I pick him up with one hand, his clothes singeing in my grasp. I chuck him at another guy and look for my next target. Only two guys are left so I charge them both. The two men show no fear on their faces, only determined hate.

    ¡°You abomination. You are trespassing on sanctified soil and will be executed for your crime,¡± one of them shouted.

    ¡°Go fuck yourself.¡±

    I grab the two men¡¯s heads, and they scream as my hands burn their faces. I smack their heads together, knocking them out, and then I toss them aside. Their faces smoke from the mark of my handprint. I¡¯ve reached a temperature where my surroundings are going to start being affected. Gotta speed this up. Alarms are blaring, but I still don¡¯t see the four I¡¯m meant to be hunting. There are several buildings around me, and I know that the homes where everyone lives are closer to the center of the property. I bounce on the balls of my feet, throw out a few punches, and then sprint full speed at the closest building. I blast through the wall without slowing down, continuing through the other side. I¡¯m not actually going to attack any noncombatants, but they don¡¯t know that.

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    More soldiers are closing in on my location as I make a beeline for the center of the compound, all the while getting hotter and hotter. Bullets fly at me but turn to molten slag as they come into contact with my body. I feel a sense of freedom right now that I can¡¯t remember feeling before. Every step I take torches the ground, and walls glow red as I hit them¡ªall the while, I barrel through everything and anything in my path. I sprint into a building that explodes as I go through it. They must have had something explosive or flammable inside. I am a flaming meteor of destruction hurling through the night, obliterating everything these pieces of shit have ever built. At the rate I¡¯m going, I might accidentally make it to the houses before the Neuvohumans come out. That would suck. I¡¯m saved from that eventuality because as soon I erupt from the building I¡¯m in I find the people I¡¯m looking for. They¡¯re in a huge clearing, hundreds of feet in diameter, and devoid of any buildings. They¡¯ve set up a last-stand killzone for me. How cute.

    A man is floating in the air, cloaked in medieval knight armor made of bright light. There is a halo floating above his helm and several wings coming out of the back of him, both made of the same light. He¡¯s giving off so much light that it looks like daytime. Well, that¡¯s obviously Father Forward. Damnit, why does he look so fucking cool. Below him is an entire army of soldiers. They have miniguns set up on turrets, launchers, sniper rifles, and various other guns, all pointed right at me. Useless against me. As I continue to look around I see a ton of floodlights hooked up to generators, but none of them are turned on. There is a guy dressed in flowing white robes, his long blonde hair tied back into a ponytail, and holding a large spear that looks like it¡¯s made of jade. I might¡¯ve mistaken him for a male model or some sort of monk if it wasn¡¯t for the double SS and 88 tattoos on his cheeks. Next to him is a much larger guy whose stature gives Hotpants a run for his money. He¡¯s dressed in the same silly robes as the other one, but his are sleeveless. He has glowing blue eyes, with a giant cross tattooed over his face from scalp to chin. His hair is cut short and is a ghostly white color. He¡¯s holding two axes made of the same jade substance as the other. The Manipulator and the Bruiser, but which is which? I don¡¯t see their general anywhere, but he could be hiding somewhere.

    ¡°Enough! You have bulldozed your way through our lands, sullying them with your impurities and harming God¡¯s chosen. That stops here and now, you evil creature,¡± Father Forward shouted.

    ¡°Finally. I was worried you were going to hide away while I made a mess of things like a cowardly little bitch. But you know what? For a racist, worthless, ignorant bastard, you at least have a spine. I won¡¯t say you have courage because nothing about you or anything you do here is courageous. Now, are you going to come quietly, or am I going to have to make you?¡±

    ¡°There are no cowards amongst my flock, no soldiers afraid to give their lives to defeat unclean sinners, and I will not let the faith they have placed in me go to waste. What I have here are proud Aryan warriors, and we will not bow to you, foul demon.¡±

    ¡°Why do all of you talk like it''s the Middle Ages? It doesn¡¯t matter I¡¯m done talking to a bunch of shitty, racist LARPers,¡± I taunted.

    Father Forward must be pissed because he doesn¡¯t seem to want to trade barbs anymore. I am purposely aggravating the zealots to keep them on their toes. I¡¯m going to have to discharge the heat soon. The grass around me is burning, and the ground is insatiable as it cooks below me. Minutes pass and we¡¯re caught in a standoff, neither side wanting to commit. My heat is contained to a twenty-foot radius around, but it will continue to grow, and I could kill someone with the heat alone. Not again. I reach down and grab a chunk of hardened, displaced soil, and it catches fire as the heat evaporates the moisture. I spin around and chuck the makeshift meteorite like it¡¯s a frisbee. It flies straight at Father Forward and hits him out of the sky. That¡¯s gotta earn me a gold, at least.

    None of them cry out in surprise or indignation. They respond immediately, the soldiers start firing, and the peaceful quiet is once again drowned out by bullet fire. The storm of metal doesn''t even get within five feet of me before the bullets melt and lose all momentum. I can go a little longer before I''ll have to cool down. I''m going to give them a little scare. I reach down and gather a bunch of the melted bullets, making a steel snowball. I raise a leg, striking a pitching pose, and whip it at a cluster of soldiers. The makeshift projectile separates as it flies, spreading out and managing to hit several soldiers. Sandbags burst, a generator sputters out and a sound like a mug shattering comes from the soldiers hit by the lava. I notice now that every person here has a very faint green glow surrounding them, all except for the soldiers I just hit. That''s the general¡¯s power.

    Another wave of bullets commences, including rockets, but the rockets explode before they even get to me. I''m watching the hit soldiers like a hawk. If the general is going to help his men, he''ll try and do it while I''m locked down. I spot someone moving around behind the rest of the men. Found ya. I sprint over to the line, intent on catching the general before he can reapply his power. I see movement out of the corner of my eye, a splash of white. The bigger monk tackles me, or at least tries to, but it does cause me to stop my approach. He backs away, but even being in my range for a few seconds causes his skin to sweat and turn red.

    The guy is big, but I''m still four feet taller and hundreds of pounds heavier. He jumps at me and then swings one of the axes at my chest. I let it go through to test the material¡¯s strength, and the axe rebounds off of my transformed hoodie. The material doesn¡¯t shatter but it did give a slight tickle. He isn¡¯t deterred and goes in for another swing. I dodge the strike and counterattack with a kick to his chest. The hit sends him stumbling back, but he doesn''t fall. He''s the Bruiser. His skin is roasting, being this close to me, and his face is scrunched in pain. Despite that, he remains focused, and he doesn''t stop attacking. He relentlessly swipes at me with both axes, and while it''s not doing any damage, I¡¯m wary of some sort of surprise.

    He''s got me on defense, and that just isn''t how Mr. Jonesby taught me how to fight. I weave forward, closing the distance his weapons grant him. I catch his wrist, crushing it, and kick away the axe he drops. I don''t need to hold back with him. I use my free hand to punch his chest as hard as I can. My hand is a hot knife through butter and goes through the man, killing him immediately. Oh my god. I toss him away so that I can retrieve him later. He isn¡¯t really dead. Keep calm.

    ¡°Listen to me. Stand down, all of you. This is not a fight you can win. I''m sure you''ve noticed the sweltering heat and rising temperatures. It is only going to continue until the heat consumes the air in your lungs. I will let you leave, and I will not pursue so give up. Your warriors can''t beat me, your weapons can''t hurt me, and none of you can stop me.¡±

    ¡°Do not falter, brave faithful. The demon is attempting to confuse you and tempt you into sin. I will show you the glory of our mission,¡± the spear-wielding monk said.

    I look over at him with a mix of irritation and disbelief. He can''t really believe they can beat me, right? He twirls his weapon and takes a giant step forward before throwing the jade spear ripping through the air at me. It''s fast, but not fast enough that I can''t dodge it. I sidestep the weapon with ease as it whizzes past, but I still get caught in the explosion that follows. I should¡¯ve been ready for it; I knew beforehand what he could do. The concussive force is so great it blasts me off my feet, sending me forward. I did not think the explosions would be that powerful.

    I push myself up, dusting the rubble off myself. None of the soldiers have taken my warning. The monk created a halberd and is spinning his weapon around him. I check on the Bruiser, and his chest wound has started to close. Based on the rate of regeneration, he¡¯s going to be up in five minutes. I need to hurry up. I sprint at the monk, whose still twirling his weapon at me and smiling¡ªcocky prick. It¡¯s easy to be cocky when you¡¯re half a football field away. Reducing the distance between us by half, I¡¯m eager to see if he¡¯ll run or not. Stupidly, he decides to match my charge. I lean over, dipping my hand into the ground to scoop up molten dirt and rocket it into the crystal maker. The lava buckshot hits him, and I see the glow surrounding him stop. The general¡¯s power only blocks one singular attack. To the nut¡¯s credit, he barely makes a sound as the bits of lava cling to his robes. He drops the halberd, materializing a crystal knife to cut and scrape the burning pebble-sized pieces off himself. His once pristine robes are now blackened, sliced, and burned. But his eyes are still defiant and hateful. His skin is blistering and crackling. I need to release the heat soon or there are going to be casualties.

    He holds his hands together as a green crystal slowly grows. I know I shouldn¡¯t let him finish, but there¡¯s something about him that makes me want to fight him at his best. I understand these are terrible, awful human beings. But this guy is like me. In a world dominated by guns, there¡¯s someone else who appreciates an old-fashioned faceoff. The crystal continues to grow, stretching and separating as it forms into two distinct forms: a tower shield and a spear. I smile and beckon him with open arms.

    The man is now well within the range of my heat. He must be feeling like he¡¯s inside an oven. He¡¯s putting up a brave front but it¡¯s obvious he¡¯s going to faint soon. I can give him one last exchange before I go after the general. He doesn¡¯t seem to want to be the one to make the first move. It¡¯s obvious he knows what will happen if he recklessly attacks me. He¡¯s taking deep, measured breaths and looks like shit. I rush him as he brings up the shield to meet me. It won¡¯t work, buddy. He positions his spear to stab me when I get close enough, but I jump at the last moment. An obsidian knee meets a crystal shield, and the shield shatters into a million pieces. My knee continues unimpeded, hitting the man straight in his chest, blasting him away from me¡ªhis body ragdolls across the ground, flipping over and over. I held back a good amount; I hope he isn¡¯t dead. Two of the targets are down. Probably more like one and a half. Bruiser will be up soon.

    An explosion elsewhere on the compound makes everyone, me included, turn. A giant inferno rises into the sky, double the height of a house. I hear someone barking orders, but I can¡¯t make them out over the sound of a second explosion, with another huge fire bursting into existence. Tuesday has started. A blinding light rises from where I sent Father Forward. The big boss is back. Still wearing his armor, he flies straight at me like an archangel ripped from the bible. All the previously dark floodlights turn on at the same time, and the darkness of the night is destroyed. He hovers above everything, hundreds of feet in the air. He activates his power, and the light from all the floodlights siphons up, twisting into the air, defying physics. Fuck, that is so cool. It¡¯s beautiful the way the strands curve through the sky, separating and solidifying into javelins. Father Forward keeps creating more and more until there must be over a thousand of them pointed at me. I tear my eyes away from the spectacle to see all the soldiers are gone. They even dragged away the burn victim monk. The only one left is the Bruiser, pushing himself up onto his feet. He¡¯s smiling like a kid who got away with a lie. I look back up and see there¡¯s like a metric fuckton more javelins made. Thank you, Nobody.

 Chapter 51 - Why?

    Vivienne and Tuesday should be on their way up to the White Knight Militia Group today. Those two will handle things correctly. And there is still so much to do to prepare for my apartment in Quinstin. Damn it, I forgot to pick my classes. I roll out of bed and boot up the computer at my desk. I log into the student portal for QUTD and check to see what classes are left. I get Calculus, Engineering Design, Physics, English, and Ethics. Five to start until I figure out what the Cowl/college balance looks like. I press submit and go about starting my day. I do my workout, shower, and do some online shopping for my apartment. I should reach out to Aubrey to see if I can¡¯t get some information about her team. I send Aubrey a text, asking if she¡¯s around to meet up. I also add that Maria and I broke up. My phone rings immediately; it¡¯s Aubrey calling.

    ¡°Oh my god, Eryk. Are you okay? I can¡¯t believe you guys broke up. You were like New Farford¡¯s OTP,¡± Aubrey said.

    I force my voice to quiver. ¡°It¡¯s been hard these past few weeks. I don¡¯t how to feel about what happened or who I am after it. Things have been so strained since getting out of the hospital, and it all came to a head.¡±

    ¡°Listen, I¡¯m on my way back from Quinstin right now. I¡¯ll come over, and we can talk. Do you want me to grab Jean-Luc?¡±

    ¡°Did you two make up?¡±

    ¡°Um, not exactly, but for something this important, we can get along,¡± she said.

    ¡°I¡¯d prefer if it was just the two of us, honestly.¡±

    ¡°No problem, I¡¯ll be there in about an hour.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, see you then. And thank you, by the way.¡±

    Our call ends, and I¡¯m left with a bit of time before she gets here. I¡¯m unsure if talking with her when I have all the personality pieces inside me. Once the experiment was over, I took all the powers back. Diminish¡¯s detached depression is like a sedative for all the other¡¯s pieces. It seems like only big emotional spikes can get through. The only upside as of late is that Maria hasn¡¯t tried contacting me since our last text exchange. I don¡¯t know how I never noticed how disturbed she was¡ªmy plan to use her as a smokescreen worked too well and made her obsessed with me. If I need another girlfriend in Quinstin, I have to be more careful.

    My room is a bit messy, so I start to clean it up. I¡¯m barely here anymore except to sleep. It actually looks like a normal teenager¡¯s bedroom. Clothes on the floor, the trash can is full, and some of my Nobody items are out. I¡¯m getting careless. I turn my Cowl phone off and throw it into my duffel bag. Already inside the bag are my mask, my gun, and some of the black clothes I tend to wear as Nobody. I empty the trash, throw my clothes into the laundry chute on the wall, and clean off all the surfaces. Zoning out, I continue wiping everything down and start vacuuming. The cleaning spree eats up time, and before I know it, an hour is gone by. A light knock breaks my concentration. Damn it. Who the hell is interrupting me? Aubrey comes in, rushing me with a hug.

    ¡°I¡¯m here, buddy,¡± she said.

    ¡°I never doubted you,¡± I said, hugging Aubrey back.

    We separate, and she takes a seat in my chair. I fall back, sitting on the end of my bed.

    ¡°Do you wanna talk about it?¡± Aubrey asked me.

    ¡°We can, it might help. Truthfully, things with me and Maria have been really rocky. I haven¡¯t been honest with anyone, really. Marcus¡¯ death, the party, and Davis killing everyone; it fucked me up. Badly. I didn¡¯t really know how to talk about it, but my sense of time was so messed up. It still is. I went from seeing everyone I grew up with getting slaughtered in droves to waking up in a pod in some BNA lab a month and a half later. It¡¯s like someone snapped their fingers, and I timetravelled. I didn¡¯t get any time to process what I¡¯d seen. The BNA agents woke me up, gave me some clothes, and brought me back home,¡± I said, pausing for tension.

    ¡°Jesus, Eryk, I didn¡¯t know. I might be the only person who can kinda relate. Granted, I still can¡¯t remember the party, but the loss of time? I can definitely understand that. It feels like I¡¯ve been frozen, and the whole world left me behind. It¡¯s so scary and isolating to have a chunk of time missing.¡±

    She still doesn¡¯t remember. Good.

    ¡°You¡¯re right. Isolating is the exact word I was thinking of. It¡¯s like I¡¯m on an island away from everyone else, surrounded by an endless ocean. It¡¯s almost poetic how I lost time, and then all I¡¯ve wanted since was more of it. Time to myself, to sit and think and grieve by myself. Maria, she didn¡¯t like that. We¡¯d never been apart for that long, and she could not comprehend the idea that I didn¡¯t want to spend every waking minute with her. I needed space, and she needed company. I pulled away as she kept getting closer. After a bit, she started accusing me of cheating and hiding shit from her,¡± I said.

    ¡°Are you fucking serious? You would never cheat; you¡¯re not that type of guy. God, she is such a stupid bitch,¡± Aubrey shouted. ¡°Sorry. Just after everything you guys have been through, two friggin¡¯ years, and she accuses you of that?¡±

    There¡¯s Davis¡¯ rage rearing its head. This is working in my favor, wonderfully.

    ¡°It hurt. A lot. I¡¯ve never been unfaithful. But no matter what I said or did, she wouldn¡¯t believe me. We started fighting every single time we were together. I started resenting her, and then I was avoiding her even more. If I didn¡¯t respond quickly enough to her texts, she would show up unannounced at my house.¡±

    ¡°What a crazy bitch.¡±

    ¡°The final straw was finding her going through my phone looking for imaginary girls I¡¯m hooking up with. I freaked out, and we fought. She kept calling me a cheater, and I called her a psycho. She¡¯s crying and screaming; I¡¯m yelling back at her. It was messy and loud, and then I finally said it. I just couldn¡¯t deal with all the bullshit anymore. I was so tired of arguing,¡± I said, sighing. It''s not technically a lie.

    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t blame you. I know I¡¯m not her biggest fan, but I¡¯m sorry that you guys broke up. I know how much you care about her.¡±

    ¡°It sucks. I love her, Aubrey. Ending it felt like cutting off a piece of my soul. I hate how much I miss her, but we can¡¯t be together if she doesn¡¯t trust me.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t help your feelings, Eryk. Our hearts have a way of overriding our brains. People are complex, emotional creatures. You can love her while also realizing a relationship is a bad idea,¡± she said.

    I need to steer us away from Maria and onto her new team.

    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    ¡°Wow. How can you be so insightful when you¡¯ve been single your whole life?¡± I joked.

    ¡°You¡¯re a jerk, you know that?¡± She smiled. Her smile fades quickly. ¡°I know a little about love and doomed relationships.¡±

    Marcus? I never noticed before. Granted, I had my hands full with Maria. I wonder what would happen if I told her I killed him. I laugh, flashing Aubrey a huge smile. ¡°Thanks for coming over. I really needed this. This might be the first time I¡¯ve laughed since we broke up.¡±

    ¡°Of course, that¡¯s what friends are for. I always got your back.¡±

    ¡°Still, thank you. It means so much that you came all the way from Quinstin here. But why were you in Quinstin? I asked.

    ¡°Uh. No particular reason. I wanted to check out a restaurant over there,¡± she lied.

    ¡°Oh, what was the name of it? I¡¯m going to QUTD, so I¡¯d love a recommendation. And how¡¯d you hear about it?¡±

    I pull out my phone and open the web browser. Aubrey stares at me, fidgeting and squirming under my stare. The first rule of lying is to keep it close to the truth and never lie about something that can be fact-checked. So there probably is a restaurant, and she met with her team there.

    ¡°It was called Dom¡¯s Taste of Italy. This tiny little Italian place. They have the best garlic bread. My friend told me about it,¡± she answered.

    ¡°What friend do you have that lives in Quinstin?¡±

    ¡°You don''t know them,¡± she said, shifting in place.

    ¡°Aubrey, are you okay? Is someone threatening you? You can tell me,¡± I pleaded.

    ¡°No, it''s nothing like that. I''m not in any danger. Well, any danger from them.¡±

    ¡°What have you gotten into now?¡±

    ¡°Promise me you won''t get mad.¡±

    ¡°I promise,¡± I said.

    ¡°I''m training to be a Heroes'' Union member,¡± she whispered.

    ¡°WHAT? AUBREY. ARE YOU CRAZY?¡±

    ¡°You said you wouldn''t get mad.¡±

    I take a second, pretending to force myself to calm down.

    ¡°I''m not mad. I''m just worried, especially after whatever happened to you last time.¡±

    ¡°That''s part of why I agreed. Whatever I got into was clearly too big for me to handle. I''m lucky to be alive.¡± She pulls her shirt up slightly, showing thin scars on her stomach. ¡°When Phoenix came to visit me in the hospital, I realized there was a way to fulfill my dream of being a hero and make sure I wouldn''t get in over my head again. Oh, sorry, Phoenix is the person you ran into outside my hospital room. They''re my team¡¯s manager slash trainer. You''re looking at Quinstin¡¯s newest Heroes¡¯ Union Probationary member.¡±

    She looks relieved not to be hiding it anymore. She''s had no one to talk to about this. I can certainly be a confidant for her.

    ¡°I''m happy for you. That''s a great opportunity. So, was it Phoenix who showed you the restaurant? I''ll have to check it out once classes start.¡±

    ¡°It was actually one of my teammates who knew about the place. She''s lived in Quinstin her whole life, so she knows just about everything there is to see or do in the city.¡±

    ¡°She sounds interesting. Wait, if you¡¯re based in Quinstin, what are you going to do about college?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, about that. I''m actually going to QUTD with you and my teammates. So you''ll have at least one friend in Quinstin,¡± she said excitedly. ¡°And I''ll have a familiar face, too.¡±

    Fuck, I didn''t even consider that. Transforming Eryk is going to be a lot harder to do with a ghost from my past. Damn it. My face feels hot, and I clamp down on the urge to lash out. Keep calm. I bite down on my tongue, focusing on the physical sensation. This does not completely derail my plans. I can still use her to get close to the Heroes'' Union. Aubrey will be my way in. I force a smile out.

    ¡°That''s great news. It''ll be good to have a friend so close by. I''m glad you''re getting along with your teammates. You said they''re all going to QUTD with us? It''ll be weird to know I might be rubbing elbows with Capes.¡±

    ¡°I have powers too, you know,¡± she pouted.

    ¡°Yeah, but you''ll always just be Aubrey to me. Kinda crazy the odds that so many freshmen have powers.¡±

    ¡°It''s not that many. Only two of my teammates are freshmen; the other two are already sophomores. God, Eryk, you have no idea how good it feels to be part of a team. They''re all so cool.¡±

    ¡°Are they? You''ll have to introduce me to them at some point,¡± I said.

    ¡°Maybe that can be arranged. My teammate was complaining about not being able to find a nice guy, and I happen to know a freshly single bachelor I can vouch for,¡± Aubrey said.

    ¡°I don''t know if I''m ready for that just yet. Before I leave for Quinstin, I''d like to talk to her one more time for closure.¡±

    ¡°Sorry. I¡¯m not trying to make light of the situation; I''m just trying to make you laugh.¡±

    ¡°I know, and thank you. Maybe when we¡¯re both situated and I¡¯ve gotten over Maria, you can introduce me to her,¡± I smiled.

    ¡°Hooray. Tell the papers, call the news stations, and sound the alarm. He¡¯s willing to date,¡± she shouted jokingly.

    My phone rings before I can respond. I don¡¯t recognize the caller ID. I stand up and walk into the hallway. Who the fuck is calling me?

    ¡°Hello. Who is this?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Eryk, I fucked up. I fucked up really badly,¡± Maria said, weeping into the phone. ¡°I need your help. I made a mistake and, and, and I don¡¯t know what to do.¡±

    I hear some odd noises and maybe someone else''s voice in the background. Is she with someone else? What did she get herself into?

    ¡°Are you there? Please, baby, I messed up. I need you, Eryk,¡± she begged.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Did she tell someone about me? This could be bad. Did someone discover Nobody¡¯s identity and they¡¯re trying to get to her through me? ¡°Actually, don¡¯t tell me. Where are you? I¡¯ll come to you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m at Cabbit¡¯s Elementary in the old gym,¡± she said through choked tears.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be there soon,¡± I said, hanging up.

    Cabbit¡¯s Elementary is where everyone in New Farford goes, or it used to until they closed it down due to asbestos and mold. They ended up building a new elementary a couple of blocks down from the old one, and it¡¯s been abandoned ever since. It¡¯s where everyone goes to smoke and drink if they don¡¯t have anywhere else. Cabbit¡¯s is on the other side of town. I can be there in ten. What did you do, Maria? I want to head right there, but I have to deal with Aubrey first.

    ¡°Hey, who was that? You rushed out of here pretty quickly,¡± Aubrey said.

    The urge to lie evaporates, replaced by an overwhelming impulse to tell the truth. ¡°It was Maria; she asked if we could meet up.¡± It is not a lie, technically the truth.

    ¡°Oh, you should go. This could be your chance at closure. You don¡¯t want me to go with you, right? I mean, I will if you want support,¡± Aubrey said.

    ¡°Thank you, Aubrey, but this is something I want to do alone. This will probably be the last time me and her talk. I¡¯m going to change and then head out. I love you,¡± I said, hugging Aubrey.

    ¡°I love you too, buddy,¡± she said, leaving my room.

    As soon as I hear Aubrey¡¯s vehicle pull away, I¡¯m up and changing. Black hoodie, a t-shirt, black pants, and black boots. I grab my gun but leave my helmet. It isn¡¯t Nobody that¡¯s going to Maria, it¡¯s Eryk. My hands grip the steering wheel like a vice grip, and I barely stop myself from just going through red lights. I trace the roads in my mind toward Cabbit¡¯s, and before I know it, I¡¯m parked there. I¡¯m in a trance, autopiloting as I rush toward the gym. The chains around the doors are cut and lying on the dirt. My gun is in reach, ready for whatever awaits me. I slowly push the door open, entering the building. The linoleum floors are covered in dust and stained so deeply that my boots don¡¯t even squeak. All the bleachers are pushed against the wall, and trash is everywhere. I process all of that in an instant, but the thing that causes my brain to stutter is Maria standing in the middle of the gym next to a woman tied to a chair and covered in bleeding wounds. She¡¯s holding a bloody kitchen knife. My head feels like it¡¯s going to explode; the pressure keeps building, and I finally understand the phrase seeing red. This stupid fucking bitch.

    ¡°What did you do?¡± I asked through gritted teeth.

    Her face brightens up at seeing me. She wipes her tears on her sleeve quickly, smiling at me. She looks like a puppy begging for attention. Sickening. The woman is middle-aged, brunette, and dresses like a secretary or office worker. I¡¯ve never seen her before, and I never forget a face. Who is this woman?

    ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to reach you to apologize for everything. I want you back. I need you back. I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said.

    ¡°ENOUGH! What have you done?¡±

    ¡°I just didn¡¯t know what to do to win you back. So I thought I¡¯d bring you a present to try and patch things up. Eryk, I love you,¡± she said.

    ¡°What do you mean a present?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve been fighting, arguing, and not seeing eye to eye. There¡¯s this wall between us, keeping us apart. I couldn¡¯t figure out how things had gone so badly. But I realized it wasn¡¯t anything I had done. Eryk, you¡¯ve been keeping a part of you caged up for so long. And then you finally let it out, only to try and put it back. But you can¡¯t just put it back and pretend like it was never let out. So I got you this woman as a present. You can finally release the monster. You can kill her, and everything will be alright again. I can do this for you,¡± Maria said.

    The tied-up woman freaks out and starts struggling against the gag and her restraints. It¡¯s agitating her wounds, making them open and bleed. She kidnapped a stranger for me to kill. Pretending to be a psychopath is biting me in the ass. God, she is so stupid. Every second she breathes, she is sabotaging me. Every single negative piece inside of me is a cocktail of impulsiveness.

    ¡°Why?¡± I asked, walking up to the two of them.

    ¡°Why?¡± Maria repeated shakily.

    ¡°Why do you fuck everything up?¡± I shouted, my voice echoing in the gymnasium. This is the last straw.

 Chapter 52 - Aftermath (V)

    (3930)

    The night sky has vanished. There are so many spears of light I can''t see anything except them. That Bruiser is still cackling off to my right. I have no idea how strong this attack is. Could it kill me? I''m going to have to release it all now. The heat inside me has been building steadily, and the ground is melting all around me. I start laughing, and I can''t stop. This is what I''ve been wanting, the type of fight that makes my heartbeat race. My blood is boiling in excitement. The monks and the general are small fries, but this guy is the real deal. The spears start to fall toward the ground like shooting stars. Every spot hit explodes in a flash of light, destroying a chunk of whatever it hits. More and more begin to rain down.

    Now or never. I focus on the heat inside my core, spreading through my body, and pull it up toward my head. It takes a second before it''s ready, and I get that feeling of having to burp mixed with heartburn. I point my mouth up at the vast array of light and open wide. I unleash a stream of super-heated energy that rips out of my throat. I move my head across the sky, annihilating the javelins. Everywhere my attack hits is wiped from existence by the overwhelming heat. When it finally ends, the heat has all but drained from my body completely.

    My temperature¡¯s reset; it¡¯s like I just transformed. I place my hands on my legs and take a long breath. Using that attack always leaves me feeling a little sluggish. Looking up at the night sky, there isn''t a single glowing weapon left. Shit, did I kill him? A flash to my right is the only warning I get before a glowing hammer smashes into my face. The back of my head slams into the ground from the hit. A sliver of black rock falls from my forehead. He actually damaged me. I¡¯m so glad he didn¡¯t die. Round two, fight.

    Farther Forward is hovering a few feet off the ground, still wearing his shining armor. As far as I can tell, there isn''t any damage visible on him. In addition to his halo, he now has several swords circling him. He¡¯s holding the giant hammer in his hands. Neither of us says a word; we¡¯re well past the point of talking. This only ends with one of us being defeated. I spring up, pushing myself off the ground.

    I don''t wait for an opening, sprinting at him. I launch myself at him, trying to grab onto his legs, but he flies out of the way. Before I even land, I feel his swords slash at my back. No blood comes out. I don''t know if I even have blood in this form, but the fact remains that he cut me. He can actually hurt me. I can¡¯t let this become a battle of attrition now. He will eventually cut me down before I grow hot enough to hurt him. He has a range advantage and can fly away at any point. I need to make every hit count.

    His swords rapidly rotate until they look like light bulb drills. All at once, they shoot forward like heat-seeking rockets. Those look like they will hurt. It takes a fraction of a second before the first one reaches me, and it¡¯s by the skin of my teeth I don¡¯t get hit. The remaining projectiles graze me despite my best attempts at dodging. Chunks of my hoodie are blown off of me by the hits.

    Running at him, I duck and weave out of the way of his swords flying at me. They sink deep into the earth, with only the hilt visible. Jumping over the last one of them, I slide under the next and reach him. I transition my slide into a roll, leaping off the ground so forcefully a crater forms from my lift-off. I soar through the air at him. This is the most fun I''ve ever had. His swords return to him, dissolving into motes of light that then create a shield. He¡¯s aiming to block my punch, but I''m not interested in testing the strength of his defense. The attack is a feint, and I twist my body midair, falling short of his shield and grabbing hold of his right leg. Gotcha. I exert as much force as I can on his ankle and rip him out of the sky, slamming him into the ground. Dust, gravel, and rocks explode out everywhere. Don''t let off the gas. I climb on top of him, hammering punches into his armor. The crater we''re in gets deeper with each hit, the force transmitted through him into our surroundings and creating a hole. He tries to stop my attacks by grabbing my wrist with his gauntleted hand; it doesn''t even slow me down. Strike after strike after strike, I let loose for the first time ever. A couple becomes ten, ten becomes forty, and forty becomes a hundred until the first crack appears.

    Father Forward begins to panic after seeing the first signs of damage. I focus on the tiny fracture until it spiderwebs out. I lose track of how long it''s been since I reset my heat, but the soil around us is smoking. He says something, but I can''t hear it over the sound of rock on armor. People like him are an infection, a wound in society. I''m not trying to be a hero, but I don''t mind helping Nobody remove this cancer. The hole we''ve created is so deep the light from his armor doesn''t reach the surface. I slap his hands away when he tries to block my strikes.

    My assault is relentless, and after who knows how long, the spot I''ve been hitting crumbles, leaving a portion of his chest exposed to me. Stopping my attacks, I notice how hot I''ve become. The dirt walls melt and crumble around us. I plunge my hand through the hole in his chest plate, my open palm torching the man''s skin.

    ¡°ARGH,¡± he screamed.

    ¡°I am not here to kill you or hurt any civilians. I am here for you and the other Neuvohumans. If you are truly a righteous man of God, you won''t put your safety over your people''s.¡±

    ¡°I will never fall for your wicked words, demon. No matter what you say or do, I will never stop fighting. Our mission is foretold and God-given. Aryans will inherit the earth as God intended. I will purify you and expunge your poison from this world,¡± Farther Forward said hatefully.

    ¡°Have it your way,¡± I sighed.

    I grab him and jump out of the hole. I''m careful with him, but the heat coming off my hand is blistering his stomach and cooking him inside his armor like a crab boil. I can''t let him die. Now that we''re out, I search for the Bruiser and find him staring at us. I switch the grip I have on him to his ankle and then drag him toward the Bruiser. I wave to him and then slam Father Forward into the ground. Left right, left right, left right, left right, I smash the priest against the burning landscape around us. His radiant protection is tough, but chunks of it are starting to fall off, dissolving into nothing. The Bruiser is reaching for the jade axes from earlier.

    ¡°Don¡¯t even try it. If he couldn¡¯t beat me, you certainly fucking can¡¯t,¡± I said.

    He ignores my warning, grabbing his weapons. Not as much juice as before, but it¡¯ll do. The beam of pure heat blasts out of my mouth, burning a hole through his torso. He slumps over, his body lifeless and his eyes dulled. Images of that night in the gym fill my head. He isn¡¯t dead. And this isn¡¯t like that. With the monk in one hand and Father Forward in the other, I start walking back the way I came. I drag the two men through my trail of ruined buildings, molten holes burned through walls, and general destruction. I need to find the other two and then group up with Tuesday.

    ¡°Damn, Red, you¡¯re a goddamn monster,¡± Tuesday said.

    I turn and see her standing on top of a nearby roof. She¡¯s in her typical outfit with long stitched sleeves, pauldrons, and a bedazzled bunny masquerade mask. Except she¡¯s drenched in blood. She kicks her foot out, and a dead soldier rolls off the roof, hitting the ground. He¡¯s got about a dozen stab wounds to the chest, and his throat is slit. You¡¯re the goddamn monster. The way all the fire lights up her smile creeps me out. Tuesday makes me uneasy. I¡¯m not afraid of her; there is no doubt I could kick her ass, but she¡¯s the type to show up in my apartment in the middle of the night and slit my throat.

    ¡°I got Father Forward and the Bruiser. The General and the crystal guy escaped when I was taking care of these two. What have you hit already?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I got their food supplies, all of their generators, and their armory. I¡¯ve picked off a lot of these shitters. They keep calling me all sorts of nasty names. I¡¯ve been called a godless heretic twenty times tonight,¡± Tuesday said, jumping down from her perch.

    ¡°Godless heretic fits you. They keep screaming about me being a demon,¡± I joked.

    ¡°You do look demonic in that form. Less elemental Amazon, more hellfire and brimstone. It¡¯s very Old Testament spooky vengeance.¡±

    ¡°Well, these fucks deserve it. We need to capture someone and find out where the other two went. Is that something you can handle?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Of course. I¡¯m really good at making people talk,¡± she said.

    ¡°Then go get me that info,¡± I ordered. I¡¯m second in command. I need to act like it.

    ¡°Aye, aye,¡± she said, vanishing from my vision.

    I drop the two men onto the ground. The Bruiser is regenerating already, and if the priest wakes up, it¡¯ll be more trouble. I¡¯m going to have to do something I am not a particular fan of. I could have asked Tuesday to do it, but it should be me. It¡¯s a necessary step. Father Forward is lying still where I dropped him. The man¡¯s wrists snap easily, just like Punch¡¯s did. But that isn¡¯t enough; I walk around waiting for my temperature to get higher. They¡¯re terrible, disgusting bastards. I drag my index and middle fingers from the top of his forehead down through his eyes to his cheeks. He wakes up shouting and flailing, but it¡¯s too late. Two blackened lines go down his face, and his eyes are burned away. He¡¯s blind and shouldn¡¯t be able to use his power. This is something I never would have done before Nobody. I¡¯ve changed a lot.

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°My eyes,¡± he screamed. ¡°What have you done to me?¡±

    He waves his limp hands around, gesturing everywhere. There aren¡¯t any sources of light for him to manipulate. I know he can use other forms of energy, like fire or electricity, but he never does. Without being able to see, he won¡¯t be able to create anything. There isn¡¯t anything I can do but wait for Tuesday to come back.

    <hr>

    Tuesday reappears, her outfit somehow splattered in more blood. It hasn¡¯t even been that long, maybe fifteen-ish minutes, how did she already get more bloodsoaked?

    ¡°You got it already?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m very persuasive,¡± she said, dumping a bag containing dozens of fingers, toes, a nose, ears, and eyes.

    Gross.

    ¡°Spit it out. Where are they?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve split their forces into two bunkers. Half the soldiers are protecting the families and children. The other has the rest of the soldiers, the general, and the other Neuvohuman you mentioned. They¡¯ve wired both of them to explode. It took me asking fifteen people really nicely just to piece the puzzle together. They would rather die than give in. They really are fanatics willing to die for their cause,¡± Tuesday said.

    ¡°Is it possible for you to get in there and defuse the bombs?¡±

    ¡°What do I look like, the fucking bomb squad? I¡¯m really only good at cutting and stabbing.¡±

    ¡°So cut and stab the wires. That¡¯s pretty much what the bomb squad does,¡± I said.

    ¡°Okay. What are we going to do about those two?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Father Forward is blinded, and I snapped his wrists, so he¡¯s down for the count. Go and get the truck and bring it out front. I¡¯ll bring them over there, and we can load them up before we grab the last two,¡± I told her.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a few,¡± Tuesday said, disappearing from in front of me.

    ¡°That¡¯s really fucking annoying, you know that?¡± I shouted after her.

    I pick up my captives and make my way back to the entrance.

    <hr>

    Tuesday pulls the box truck up, honking the horn repeatedly. I shifted back after killing the Bruiser again to reset his timer. It makes him stronger, but not by a noticeable amount.

    ¡°Hey, sugartits, you wanna take a ride with me? I could make it worth ya while,¡± she said, sounding like a crass trucker.

    ¡°Get out and help me,¡± I barked.

    She shuts the truck off and hops out. I drag the two men to the back as Tuesday throws the back open. Isaiah uses this truck to transport Neuvohumans for Nobody. Everything is covered in dried blood. It looks like a slaughterhouse in here. The insides have been reinforced with steel and the sides retrofitted with manacles, and there are chains bolted to the ceiling and the floor. Tuesday jumps in, and I lift the prisoners up to her. We get Father Forward strung up, and then the dead, for now, Bruiser. We wrap extra chains around his limbs, his neck, and his torso. The hole in his torso has already started to heal. We climb out, and I slam the door down.

    ¡°We got communicators in the glove box. Grab two, and then you can tell me once it¡¯s done,¡± I said.

    She tosses me an earpiece, and I put the other one in my ear.

    ¡°Maam, yes, Maam,¡¯ she said, snapping a crisp salute.

    ¡°Just get it done.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Explosives should be taken care of,¡± Tuesday said into my ear.

    ¡°Should?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yeah, should; I must¡¯ve missed that part of school where I took bomb Defusal 101,¡± Tuesday said with a bitchy tone.

    ¡°Then I will head over,¡± I said, shifting into my volcanic form.

    The earpiece falls out as I transform. Uggh. I start sprinting over to where the bunker is, marveling at the sheer amount of destruction Tuesday was able to cause. I pass corpses of soldiers, each one being killed differently. Each is more disturbing than the last. She is sick.

    The bunker is completely underground, except for the entrance peeking up. There aren''t any soldiers stationed at the wide-open entrance. I change back to human and then shift back to reset my timer. As long as I''m in and out in less than fifteen minutes, I won''t be hot enough to burn them accidentally. Tuesday doesn''t try and surprise me; instead she''s kicking her legs out from the top of a nearby building.

    ¡°They''re all in there. They know you''re coming; it''s just a question of when. Not that it matters,¡± she laughed.

    ¡°How many civilians?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Around fifty. There''s thirty-six soldiers plus the pretty man you burned.¡±

    ¡°And the General is in there?¡±

    ¡°Ugh. Yes. He''s dressed like a regular soldier, but I saw him using his power. He''s in there,¡± Tuesday replied.

    Thankfully, the bunker''s opening is large enough that I don''t need to duck down. There are just enough overhead lights to keep the tunnel from being completely dark. It''s quiet, and my footsteps echo in the emptiness. The tunnel is set at a slight decline and I''m cautious in my approach. It''s spooky down here, ominous and gloomy like bad things are up ahead. The decline finally stops, and I''m here.

    I enter and see that Tuesday is telling the truth. Metal shelves full of nonperishables and canned foods are against all the walls. They''ve pushed all the beds to the back, and that''s where the civilians are. Men, women, and even children stare at me. They aren''t scared, shaking in fear. They are rigid and glaring hatefully. Spread out everywhere are oil tanks with c4 wired up to them.

    The thirty-five soldiers have their rifles pointed at me. Only one of them isn''t holding a gun and has removed his helmet. The General finally appears. General Franklin Prior has salt and pepper hair, a trimmed goatee, and eyes like a dead fish. Next to him is the long-haired monk who fled from me. He''s got burns all over his body and face. His ruined robes hang off him, and patches of his head are missing hair. Looking around, I see that every person in the bunker has the telltale glow of the General''s power.

    ¡°There you are. You ran like a little bitch just to hole up in here. If you wanted to hide from me, this is a shit hiding place. I mean, I found it so easily,¡± I said, smiling.

    ¡°I wasn''t hiding, filthy cur. I made a tactical retreat to gain a more advantageous position,¡± the monk said.

    ¡°Nope, you were scared of me. Now, you and the other rats have backed yourselves into a corner. There is no escaping me now, nowhere to run. Surrender, and nobody else has to get hurt. I''m only here for you and the General; everyone else is free to go,¡± I said.

    The General speaks for the first time. His voice is stern and deep. ¡°Where are Marcus and Father Forward?¡± He asked.

    ¡°They''re taken care of,¡± I replied.

    ¡°Understood. It has been a pleasure serving with you all,¡± General Prior said, speaking to his soldiers. ¡°Fire at will.¡±

    I once again find myself on the receiving end of high-caliber ammunition. The bullets begin piling at my feet as I cover my eyes. Don''t want to get a piece of metal stuck there. The sound of shooting slowly trails off as they finish firing. The noise the shells make when they hit the ground is odd. It doesn''t sound like metal; it almost sounds like glass. Shit. I look at my feet and see my suspicion is correct. All around me are green crystalline bullets; a small mountain of jade.

    The monk is smiling and snaps his fingers. The hundreds of miniature explosions destabilize my footing and blast me closer to the soldiers. My head feels rattled, but I shake it off and stand up, ready for the next barrage. But all the rifles are lowered, and even the monk is still. Franklin is holding some device in his hand, the detonator. Too bad for you. He presses the trigger on the harmless detonator. Tuesday already took care of that. The room flashes white as every bomb explodes simultaneously.

    The sound of screams is cut off by the roar of fire and the violent shaking of the bunker crumbling. WHAT THE FUCK? I spring up, and all around is carnage. The glow is gone from everyone, and flames are spreading. What do I do? Chunks of the ceiling have fallen and crushed people. So many people are burning, groaning, and crying out for help. What do I do? The bunker is rumbling, and I don¡¯t have much time before everyone is trapped down here. What do I do? Fragile little bodies bent at terrible angles, parents clutching the corpses of their children, soldiers'' heads cracked open, and there isn¡¯t enough time to save everyone. I can¡¯t save everyone, and I might not be able to save anyone if I wait much longer. I scan the burning room and see the General and the monk. The monk is dead; his head is smushed under a piece of the ceiling. FUCK. The General is in pretty bad shape as well; both of his legs are blown off and bleeding.

    I ignore my heart, crying out to try and rescue as many kids as I can. It isn¡¯t feasible and the bunker isn¡¯t long for this world. I would have to choose which of the kids to save and which to leave behind to die. Do I focus on getting the General or try to save as many people as I can? I can¡¯t do both. A second delayed explosion goes off toward the back of the room and my choice is taken away from me. Chunks of people are blown at me and blood is dripping from the ceiling. I rush over to the General, clear all the rubble away, and use my hand to cauterize the legs. Everything is burning, the fires lapping up all the fabric from the beds and growing larger. Smoke is filling the room, and rubble is covering the ramp out of here. I throw the General over my shoulder, take one last look behind me, and charge through the rocks. Lights flicker, dislodging from their holes as dust falls from above as the whole building shifts around me. I don¡¯t stop, running up the tunnel as the bunker collapses behind me like I¡¯m an action hero. I leap out of the entrance, turning around to see it all fall. I don¡¯t feel like a hero.

    ¡°From baptisms and bunkers to bomb blasts and burial grounds,¡± Tuesday said.

    I whip around to see her leaning against a pole nonchalantly. ¡°Was that a fucking joke?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard that laughter is the best medicine. And you seem like you could use a pick me up,¡± Tuesday giggled.

    ¡°All those people are dead. They are buried underneath all that concrete. The bombs went off. Whatever you did didn¡¯t work,¡± I spat.

    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t get mad at me. I told you I would try, and I did. You can¡¯t judge a fish by its ability to fly, so don¡¯t send a killer to defuse a bomb.¡±

    I suck on the side of my cheek and sigh. I shift back to human.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, sorry. The crystal monk died in the explosion. I was only able to grab this guy,¡± I said, holding up the General.

    ¡°Three out of four ain¡¯t bad. Seventy-five percent is a C plus. And C¡¯s get degrees, am I right?¡± Tuesday joked.

    We walk back to the box truck in silence. The two of us chain up Franklin next to his buddies and start the drive back. Tuesday is right that we did well all things considered. But her joking about all those deaths is morbid beyond belief. The faces of all those children are burned into my memory forever. Their eyes instead of bright and wondrous were hateful. So many little ones snuffed out in an instant, robbed of their chance to grow up. They would never be able to change and realize how backward the thinking of this place is. The moment of the General activating the bombs keeps replaying over and over again in my mind. I failed. I can feel the dam of tears right behind my eyes, and the rising bile in my throat. I¡¯m going to be sick. The point of being strong, the point of getting Nobody to agree to my rule, is so that things like this don¡¯t happen. Tuesday is giggling and joking about tonight, but I can¡¯t hear anything over this ringing in my ears. Is she lying to me? Did she actually try to defuse it, or just say she did? Why do I feel like she¡¯s not telling the truth? I have no way of proving my hunch. All I can do is wait to see if she slips up. And if I find out she did this, I will kill her. If she ever does something like this again, I will kill her.

 Chapter 53 - Gardening

    ¡°What? What are you saying?¡± Maria asked.

    ¡°God, you¡¯re so goddamn braindead. I¡¯ve given you every opportunity to prove you have more brains than heart, but you¡¯re just too fucking stupid,¡± I screamed. ¡°You never think. Who is this woman?¡±

    She stutters, tears starting again. ¡°No, no, no one. She¡¯s nobody.¡±

    I walk closer to her. ¡°How did you find her? Where did you find her?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s just a random woman, I promise. I saw her at the mall a couple of weeks ago, and there was something about her. So, I followed her around for a bit and saw where she lived. Then I took my chance and grabbed her today,¡± she said.

    ¡°Holy shit! You could¡¯ve been seen. How do you know you weren¡¯t seen? We live in a world where every single person has a camera in their pocket, and you kidnapped a stranger off the street. How do you know you weren¡¯t seen? You lack the foresight and the brain power to understand the consequences of your fucking actions.¡±

    ¡°Stop yelling at me. You''re being mean. Why are you trying to hurt me?¡±

    ¡°Maria, she¡¯s seen our faces. We can¡¯t just let her go. I have to kill her now,¡± I explained.

    ¡°And what¡¯s wrong with that? All of our problems have started because you haven¡¯t been killing. I got you an outlet. I did this for you, for us,¡± she whined.

    ¡°God damn it, will you fucking listen to me? You don¡¯t get it. There is no us,¡± I said aggressively. The haze in my head is only growing stronger the longer we talk.

    ¡°You don¡¯t mean that.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I do. There never was an us. I was using you.¡±

    I¡¯m not planning or masking my intentions. I want her to hurt for all the trouble she¡¯s caused. For the first time in our relationship, I¡¯m being honest with her. I don¡¯t have the patience to plot and scheme. She looks heartbroken, and reality is starting to set in. The illusions need to go away.

    ¡°Why couldn¡¯t you just take the fucking hints I¡¯ve given you. My plan was just to pull away from you slowly, and then I would just become a worse boyfriend over time once we were at college until you dumped me. Then, you would move on and be happy. But then you reveal you know about Marcus and Davis and basically threaten me. You tell me you¡¯re going to Quinstin, and I watch as every plan I¡¯ve made falls apart. And now you¡¯re dumping this clusterfuck into my lap. Why the fuck can¡¯t you stop screwing up?¡±

    ¡°I''m sorry,¡± she mumbled, tears falling down her cheeks.

    ¡°You are pathetic, but I bet even now, you still love me. Maria, I have never felt anything for you. I only dated you out of convenience and as a deterrent for the other girls. But your usefulness is completely gone, and you''re a fucking shackle around me,¡± I screamed.

    ¡°Stop it. You don''t mean that. You''re angry. And I understand I made a mistake, but don''t say things you don''t mean,¡± Maria sniffled.

    Every single inconvenience and annoyance she''s caused is flashing through my head, every time I have had to placate and baby her. Eryk has no use for her. She is nothing but an obstacle for Nobody. Now I have to kill some random woman because of her. I pull the gun out of my hoodie pouch and shoot the bound woman in the head. She slumps over dead, blood gushing out of the hole in her skull. Maria jumps in fright, turning to look at the gun in my hands.

    ¡°A gun? Why do you have a gun? Eryk, where did you get a gun?¡±

    There''s a whining noise in my ears. It''s all I can hear. Maria¡¯s voice sounds distant and distorted. This girl is nothing but a gnat, a pest, a bother. My arm moves before I can register what I''m doing. The gun handle smacks against her cheek, knocking her into the gymnasium¡¯s dirty floor. Blood is dribbling out from her lips, and I drop the gun. Her eyes look so fearful, reminiscent of the man I shot at the docks. Before she can stand, I climb on top of her and wrap my hands around her neck, squeezing tightly.

    ¡°You wretched waste of space, you pitiful moron. Our entire relationship is fake, and I refuse to continue the facade. How could you ever think I could love you? I''m not capable of love,¡± I shouted at her.

    Her face is changing color as I asphyxiate her. The tears are fully pouring out of her now, and she''s trying to say something. All that comes out is spittle and gurgling noises mixed with blood. The blood vessels in her eyes pop, making them bloodshot and panicked. She scrapes and claws at my arms, but my hoodie sleeves get in the way. My hands are turning bone white from how hard I''m choking her. I finally stop when her eyes roll back into her skull, her body still as a mannequin.

    She''s dead. My girlfriend is gone. I won''t be tethered to her anymore. Even staring at her fresh corpse doesn''t make me feel anything. Goodbye, Maria. I need to get rid of the bodies. I can''t burn them; the whole place would catch. Looking at the tied-up stranger, an idea forms. I can leave her behind. She''s covered in Maria''s DNA and none of mine. Then, if I get rid of Maria, it will make it look like she fled after killing her. This can work.

    I''m going to have to stop at Lowe''s to grab a few things. I need a shovel, seeds, and fertilizer. If I''m going to bury her, I also need to create an alibi. The gym has a couple of tarps lying around, so I grab a few. Before I start wrapping, I go through Maria''s pockets, taking her phone, wallet, and keys out. I carefully drag the bundled body to the door of the gym, dropping it to grab her SUV. I back the car up and pop the trunk open, putting her inside with her phone and wallet. I hide her keys underneath the front right tire.

    I''m going to have to use Aubrey to corroborate the story I plan to tell. First thing I have to do is get my truck out of here. I hop into my truck and make my way to the closest Lowe''s. I park my truck in a side lot and grab a cart on my way into the store. Making my way over to the garden center, I stop the first female employee walking by me. She¡¯s around my age, slightly chubby, and gives off the same signs that Maria did before we were together. I can use her. Smile. Appear friendly and flirty. I need to set the backstory for my soon-to-be garden and establish a possible alibi for the woman¡¯s murder.

    ¡°Hey, sorry, do you have a minute?¡± I asked, flashing a warm smile.

    ¡°Of course. Um, what exactly are you looking for today?¡± The employee asked.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Thank you so much. I''m thinking about starting a little garden to grow some vegetables. I love cooking and I¡¯d like to be able to say I grew the ingredients. Fair warning: I am terrible at keeping things alive, so it kind of needs to be idiotproof,¡± I laughed.

    ¡°Really? I used to be like that, too. It wasn¡¯t until I worked here that I learned how to stop killing everything. I''ll show you a couple of the beginner veggies we have,¡± she said, leading me through the aisles and toward the seed section.

    The display is on a lifted platform so that it can spin around. The girl keeps mumbling to herself and tracing her finger over the packets of seeds. I let go of the cart I¡¯m pushing and get closer to her. I see a picture of a jalapeno pepper and make my move. Leaning forward, I reach my arm out over her shoulder and point to it. I''m close enough that she can feel my breath on her neck. She doesn''t flinch or try to move away. A little bit of light touching to really seal the deal.

    ¡°What about that one?¡± I asked softly in her ear.

    ¡°Jalapenos definitely fit the bill. They''re pretty hot,¡± she said, turning around to face me.

    We¡¯re face-to-face and close enough to appear intimate.

    ¡°Life''s better with spice. Wouldn''t you agree?¡±

    She blushes, flustering. ¡°Yeah, I like some heat.¡±

    I take a quick peek at her nametag. ¡°You never know how good something is till you taste it, Jessica.¡±

    Her face is a deep shade of red. It looks like I''ve definitely succeeded in making her remember me.

    ¡°D, d, do, do you already have some fertilizer, uhm?¡± She asked, her voice a higher pitch.

    ¡°Oh, forgive my rudeness. I¡¯m Eryk. And no, I don''t have any of the stuff. Do you mind helping me make sure I don''t forget anything? I understand if you''ve got other things to do.¡±

    ¡°I''d love to!¡± Jessica said excitedly. ¡°What I mean is, it''s part of my job. Not that I wouldn''t help you if it weren''t. I''d be happy to do anything with you; I mean help you.¡±

    This might be working too well. We continue chatting as Jessica leads me through the aisles, grabbing plenty of seeds, fertilizer, a spade, a handheld shovel, a watering pail, and a few other things. She can really talk when she gets going. I check my phone for the time. I must hurry in case someone discovers Maria.

    ¡°Well, thank you so much for your help, Jessica,¡± I said.

    ¡°It was my pleasure,¡± she said, clearly wanting to say more.

    ¡°I''ll probably come by next week with some pictures. You can judge my progress and tell me whether I fucked it all up,¡± I laughed.

    ¡°I''d really like that. Make sure you take plenty,¡± Jessica said, smiling.

    ¡°I will.¡±

    I walk away, pushing my cart toward the self-checkout section. I have all the items needed to make Maria disappear. I got wildflower seeds for her grave and several vegetable seeds for the house. Daniel can probably be persuaded to take care of this. It can give him a healthy hobby to do. It will make this alibi stronger over time. I pay for all my items and throw everything into the back of my truck, on to the next step of the plan.

    <hr>

    Back at the school, I put one of the shovels and half the fertilizer bags into Maria''s SUV. I''m careful to make sure that the bags don''t rip. Finding fertilizer in her car could eventually fuck me over. The rest of the stuff I bought goes into the bed of my truck and I move it into the nearby parking lot of the local 7/11. I swap my hoodie for the one I keep in my truck, grab a pair of gloves, and pull the hood up. A short casual walk back gets me to Maria''s SUV. There''s a train station two towns over that is very old school and is right near some woods. They don''t have any workers and only a single kiosk to purchase tickets from. If no tickets are bought, then the Quickrail doesn''t stop there. There aren¡¯t conductors controlling them; they follow preplanned routes. There is an override that the onboard engineer can press if needed, but they are there as a government requirement more than anything. All of that works to my advantage. I put my gloves on before getting in her car and punching the address into the GPS. I take back roads to get out of New Farford so I can avoid anyone seeing me driving Maria''s car without her. It''s almost over, and then I just have to get home to start the garden.

    <hr>

    The train station parking lot is empty. Good. The station itself is nothing but a platform, a kiosk, and some slight cover from an overhang above a single bench. I don¡¯t even see a trashcan. I reverse into a spot that''s next to the trees. I open the trunk, grab my supplies, and leave both our phones in the car. The woods are densely packed with trees and shrubs to the point that you can¡¯t see far. There are no trails or clearings; this is unclaimed nature in all its glory. My memory is excellent, so I''m not concerned with losing my way back. No matter how many twists and turns I take, I have the route engraved into my mind. I hear the sounds of moving water and follow it till I come across a small river that''s a few feet wide and deep. Crossing moving water should make it even harder to find her body. I toss the shovel, seeds, and fertilizer over the stream one at a time, then jump across.

    A few minutes later, I find the perfect spot. There are leaves everywhere, a toppled tree, and plenty of moss and bugs. I clear some of the leaves with my foot and get to digging. The grave doesn¡¯t have to be too deep. It¡¯s hard work when I¡¯m using a three-foot-long hand shovel. The plan is to keep her closer to the surface to speed up the decomposition and have nature reclaim the area. Once the hole is around five feet, I make my back to the truck to grab Maria. She isn¡¯t heavy, and I¡¯m in exceptional shape, but carrying her through the forest¡¯s uneven ground is a struggle. I hear rumbling above me and the clouds are getting darker¡ªgreat, just what I needed: an accelerated timetable. Getting Maria over the river is tougher but I manage to toss her across. I don¡¯t have to be gentle now; after all, she can¡¯t feel it. Should I get rid of the tarps? That might help with destroying her body. I unroll the tarps and roll Maria into the hole. Her body thuds against the rock and dirt at the bottom.

    I start the process of shoveling all the displaced dirt over her body, working up a sweat along my back and brow. I dab my forehead using my sleeve. I do not want any of my DNA here. When I only have a few more shovelfuls of dirt. I rip open the bags of fertilizer, mixing half of it into the remaining mounds of soil. I finish the burial process by scattering the rest of the fertilizer over her grave and also all around it, spreading it out everywhere. The goal is not just to have Maria¡¯s grave overgrown but also to enrich the surroundings to hide this place further. Once that¡¯s done, I start spreading the wildflower seeds everywhere, turning this ordinary part of the forest into a glade that will be a hub of activity for the denizens of this place. The wildflower¡¯s bag says that insects will feast on the pollen, rodents will be attracted to the seeds, and reptiles can eat their leaves. Over time, the animals and bugs will eat and die here, attracting bigger predators and helping spread the seeds farther.  All of this will help hide the truth of what is buried beneath them. I take one last look at the fresh grave before leaving. Good riddance.

    I bring the two tarps with me, placing the fertilizer bag inside one tarp and the wildflower seed bag inside the other. Folding the tarps over and over into tight squares, I pull out the last item I bought: duct tape. I wrap the folded tarps in tape and then throw them into the river, watching the two start to float away. That should take care of those. I check my boots, inspecting the bottoms for any seeds. When I finally get home I can establish a reason for having muddy boots. Am I being paranoid? It¡¯s a lot of steps to go through for the disposal of a body, but I¡¯d rather be cautious than caught. Once I¡¯m back at the station, I use Maria¡¯s card to buy a Quickrail ticket. This particular Quickrail goes all the way to Maine; there are plenty of places for her to have gone after murdering a woman and abandoning her boyfriend. The kiosk¡¯s expected arrival is twenty minutes. It¡¯s a bit longer than I¡¯d like, but it gives me some time to get the final piece of the puzzle into place.

    Maria¡¯s car has her possessions: her wallet, her phone, and her keys. I grab my phone and her stuff before locking the SUV. I rip off more of the tape and make a few cylinders with the sticky part facing out. All of them are of different lengths and amounts by design. Each one of Maria¡¯s items gets a separate tape cylinder. I jump down from the platform and walk across the tracks to where there are trees I can hide behind. Quickrail tracks are made of three parallel t-shaped steel beams that the Quickrail is magnetized to instead of using wheels. I crouch low behind a tree and begin to wait. The rumbling above is louder now, and a spattering of raindrops is starting to fall. After ten minutes, I give a call to Aubrey.

    ¡°Hello, Aubrey.¡±

    ¡°Hey, Eryk, how did your talk with Maria go? Did you get the closure you wanted?¡± Aubrey asked.

    ¡°Kind of? She was acting very, very erratic. And she told me she had to go away for a bit before leaving me stranded at Strivington Crossing. I hate to ask, but do you mind coming to get me?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Mom¡¯s shift isn¡¯t over till midnight, so I still have her car until then. I can be there in like twenty-five thirty, give or take.¡± Aubrey said. ¡°And wait, she just left you?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a pain to explain over the phone. I¡¯ll tell you all about it when you¡¯re here,¡± I said.

    I hear the boom of thunder starting and then a flash a few seconds later. The drops are turning to a steady drizzle as the Quickrail finally comes sliding in to the station. The white metal cab is rounded to maximize its aerodynamics. I run over to the side of it, soaking up the wetness with my sleeve. I space all three of the taped items out by five or so feet. Smoothing out the tape, I make sure that they¡¯re stuck on tight. But not too tight. Each of them will eventually slip off somewhere along the route, completing my obfuscation. If they tie the dead woman to Maria, the police will see this for what it is: a girl who panicked after murdering someone and ran away to escape prosecution. I run back to my hiding spot until it starts to leave. The Quickrail takes off out of the station, slowly gaining speed until I can¡¯t see the sleek white form anymore. Standing up, I walk over to the bench and wait for my friend, Aubrey. Now, there¡¯s nothing to interfere with my plans anymore.

 Chapter 54 - What Does That Make Me?

    I pull my hood up and rush over to Aubrey''s mom¡¯s electric vehicle. The torrential downpour is hammering everything. Tings and thumps fill the air as the heavy raindrops collide with the deep blue car. Aubrey throws the door open, waving me in. I leap in and close the door behind me. My clothes are soaked to hell. I unzip my hoodie and toss it in the backseat. Now, to set up the backstory.

    ¡°It¡¯s really raining out there, huh,¡± Aubrey said.

    ¡°Ya think?¡± I said sarcastically

    ¡°Just joking. Don¡¯t shoot the messenger,¡± she said, raising her hands.

    ¡°That saying doesn¡¯t even work for this situation. If you¡¯re going to make fun of me for getting rained on, at the very least, make it funny.¡±

    ¡°My bad. So what happened? You promised to tell me.¡±

    ¡°Well, obviously, you were there when she called and said she wanted to talk. After we talked about closure, I realized this might be my last chance. We met up at that 7/11 on Lilliard because she said she wanted us to go for a drive. But she wouldn¡¯t tell me where we were going. Immediately, I felt like she was off,¡± I said.

    ¡°Off? What do you mean by that?¡± Aubrey asked.

    ¡°I was getting to it before you interrupted me,¡± I said pointedly.

    ¡°Again, my bad, continue.¡±

    ¡°She was manic, talking a mile a minute, and I hate to use the word, but acting crazy. I have never seen her like this. She told me she understood why we needed to break up but that she was going to fix everything.¡± White lies seem to be acceptable.

    ¡°Fix it how? Sorry! I did it again,¡± Aubrey said.

    ¡°How about you focus on the road while I tell you the story? That way, today doesn¡¯t end with two people dying.¡±

    Aubrey mimics zipping her lips and eating the key.

    ¡°So you can be funny. Anyway, I had no idea what she meant about fixing everything. Maria barely let me get a word in edgewise as she drove up here. She kept repeating over and over how much she loved me. And I¡¯m going to be honest: I¡¯m kind of worried about her. She said she was going away for a bit but that everything would be better soon. Then she bought a ticket at the terminal and just left, leaving me behind,¡± I said.

    ¡°She left her car behind? Eryk, should we tell someone, like, I don¡¯t know, her family or the police?¡± Aubrey asked.

    This is going better than I could have imagined.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t have anyone else besides me. And regardless of what¡¯s happening, Maria would never want her parents involved. They aren¡¯t exactly winning any parental awards or even able to compete. Maria does not have a good relationship with them, and I don¡¯t want to betray her trust and say any more than that.¡±

    Aubrey doesn¡¯t respond, or more like she doesn¡¯t know how to. The only sound in the car is the rain and the occasional boom of distant thunder. Aubrey is probably going over all the interactions she¡¯s had with Maria before through a different lens. She¡¯s thinking of all the times she could have been nicer to the poor, lonely Maria.

    ¡°I had no idea. I¡¯m not sure how to say this correctly, but you don¡¯t think she¡¯d, you know?¡± Aubrey asked awkwardly.

    ¡°Kill herself? No, she wouldn¡¯t. Maria would never hurt herself. When I say I¡¯m worried about her, it¡¯s because she¡¯s never acted like this, but I¡¯m not afraid of that. She¡¯s more likely to hurt someone else than herself. I just think that the breakup is a lot harder on her than I thought it would be. I¡¯m starting to wonder if I made the right decision.¡±

    ¡°Eryk, don¡¯t even think about it. You can¡¯t just get back together with her because she¡¯s struggling. Remember all the reasons you had to break up with her in the first place. This could be a manipulation tactic; girls can be calculated in the worst way,¡± Aubrey said.

    ¡°I didn''t even think of that. The idea of manipulating someone who loves you leaves a weird taste in my mouth.¡± The irony of the situation is not lost on me. Also, weird doesn''t mean bad, necessarily.

    ¡°That''s because you''re one of the few good guys. There are so many people out there that lie, cheat, steal, and hurt others because they''re sick,¡± Aubrey said angrily.

    ¡°Why do I feel like we''ve strayed away from Maria?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Fuck. Sorry, you were saying.¡±

    ¡°Don''t worry about it. I don''t think talking about Maria anymore is going to help me. I wouldn''t mind the conversation pivot. So talk to me. What''s on your mind?¡±

    ¡°It''s Cape stuff. I know you don''t care about that kind of thing, so I wasn''t gonna bring it up,¡± she said.

    ¡°I might not be a Neuvohuman superfan like you, but you''re my friend, and I''m always interested in hearing what''s going on with you. Is it about your team? I thought you were getting along with them.¡±

    ¡°It''s complicated. Okay, I can tell you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone,¡± Aubrey said seriously.

    ¡°I swear on my soul that I, Eryk Blakely, will not tell anyone whatever you tell me.¡± Eryk Blakely won''t tell anyone. Nobody, on the other hand, almost certainly will.

    ¡°Alright, so there''s this girl on my team, Violet. She''s headstrong, blunt, and a bit overbearing, but she''s great. Anyways, we had a low-stakes mission recently. Phoenix had picked out this small gambling operation for us to break up. It was an underground fighting league that occasionally featured Neuvohumans. But none of the Cowls that hang out there are big threats, so all of us were pretty confident going in. Especially Violet, she''s really, really strong, Eryk. Like my power is considered a rank two, but she''s like a rank five,¡± Aubrey said.

    She''s talking about Virtue. Hearing what that night looked like from the other side will be very informative.

    ¡°Wow, so she''s a big deal?¡± I asked.

    ¡°What happened to not interrupting people while they¡¯re talking?¡±

    ¡°Oops. Continue.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Violet is a very big deal. She''s a legacy Cape and fully inherited both of her parents'' power sets. Anyway, we arrived, and another one of my teammates used her power to tell everyone to surrender and come out peacefully. All the regular people came out, and the police arrested them. But neither the gang running the place or the Cowls complied, so we sent Violet down to see what was up. She''s a tank, like nothing can harm her.¡± Aubrey takes a minute to breathe before continuing.

    Nothing except Tuesday.

    ¡°She goes down there and lets us know there are tons of dead bodies and that the gang is annihilated. She ended up having to fight six Cowls at the same time and came out unharmed. But then something happened to her. She flew out of the place and was under some kind of illusion or something because she started attacking us. During the commotion, two of the six Cowls escaped. When whatever was affecting her wore off, she just kept talking about the man in the mask. She said he had a featureless black helmet that seemed to absorb all the light hitting it. She called him a criminal mastermind and said he was responsible for everything.¡±

    How nice of her to say that.

    ¡°And you guys think this mysterious stranger is responsible for her freak out?¡±

    ¡°No. That''s the thing: we talked to the four Cowls we did manage to arrest, and they confirmed that there were two other Cowls who escaped. That¡¯s how we know there were six originally. But the problem is none of them remembered a man in a black helmet. There¡¯s nobody else who saw this guy. She won''t let it go, though. She thinks he''s out there plotting something again. It''s causing friction within the team because everyone is divided on whether this guy is real.¡±

    ¡°What about you? Are you one of the ones who believe in this boogie man?¡±

    ¡°No. The place doesn''t have any cameras, and we tried asking some of the non-superpowered people in attendance and none of them remembered him either. There were a couple of videos and pictures taken by people, but he didn''t show up on any of them. It¡¯s tough because, like, I believe that Violet believes she saw him, but how could he arrive and leave without anyone seeing him?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re more of a boogie man agnostic. It all does sound pretty unbelievable,¡± I remarked.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°Hah,¡± Aubrey said dryly. ¡°If there were even a single piece of evidence, I¡¯d give her the benefit of the doubt.¡±

    ¡°Still, all of that sounds like the setup to a great thriller mystery movie. A faceless figure operating from the shadows and controlling things,¡± I said.

    ¡°I''ll never understand you and Maria''s obsession with spooky movies. That shit just gives me nightmares. But back to Violet, it''s tough because we''re split right down the middle. Me and one of the guys are in the camp that she imagined him due to whatever Mentalist power affected her. The other two of our teammates believe Violet. It''s like a pot that''s threatening to boil over,¡± Aubrey said.

    ¡°You don¡¯t think you¡¯re being a little dramatic? You guys haven¡¯t even known each other for more than a month. Maybe the stress of the job and the heightened emotions of a new group dynamic are causing you to make mountains out of molehills. It could also be that this delusion she has is a trauma response to losing control. You said she¡¯s super strong and tough, right?¡±

    Aubrey clicks her tongue. ¡°Of course, you have a levelheaded take that makes a lot of sense. Why must you always defeat my hysterics with facts and logic?¡±

    ¡°Someone needs to reign you in. Just talk to her and let her know she has your support. If this group is so important to you, then work through it. Play mediator and peacemaker,¡± I said.

    ¡°Thank you for the sage advice, oh Wise One.¡±

    I press the play button on the center console. I¡¯m done talking. As soon as the rain stops, I need to get started on the garden. I¡¯m not out of the woods yet. If Vivienne and Tuesday were successful, then they should be back either tonight or tomorrow. Less than a week till I move to Quinstin, and then classes start soon after.

    <hr>

    Aubrey drops me off at the 7/11 and drives off. I hop in my truck and drive home in the pouring rain. I dial Daniel¡¯s number and wait for him to pick up.

    ¡°Hello? What¡¯s up, kiddo?¡±

    ¡°Hey, Dad, not much. I just wanted to call you to check in¡ªwell, actually, to talk.¡± There we go again with the unnecessary honesty.

    ¡°Everything alright, Eryk?¡±

    ¡°Yes and no. Me and Maria are broken up, for good too.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, son. How are you holding up?¡± Daniel asked me.

    ¡°I¡¯m actually doing very well. Feels kind of like I¡¯m finally free for the first time in forever,¡± I answered completely truthfully.

    ¡°I¡¯m happy you¡¯re handling it so well. Is that all you wanted to call me to talk about?¡±

    ¡°No, actually. I bought some stuff to start growing vegetables at the house. I was wondering if you wanted maybe to help me with it. It could be something we could do together.¡±

    ¡°Like a father-son veggie garden; sure, I¡¯d love to do that with you, kiddo. We can work on it together until you leave for Quinstin,¡± Daniel said.

    ¡°I¡¯d really like that. Give me something to look forward to seeing when I come home for breaks¡ªa chance to make something and watch it change over time,¡± I said.

    It¡¯s a bit cliche, but it should work on him. If he agrees, this could give him a reason not to end it all as soon as I leave. This runs contrary to what we discussed previously about selling the house. Truthfully, Daniel keeping the house doesn¡¯t affect my plans in the slightest. The garden doing well also makes my alibi even stronger.

    ¡°I think that I would enjoy that too. And it could be really good for both of us to focus on the future and put the past behind us,¡± Daniel said. ¡°It¡¯s raining too much to start today, but maybe tomorrow, when it clears up, we can get started.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good, Dad.¡±

    ¡°I love you, Eryk,¡± Daniel said.

    ¡°I love you too, dad.¡±

    <hr>

    My Cowl phone vibrates.

    (Vivienne): We¡¯re back. Lot to talk about. You around?

    I am free and at my house. :(Eryk)

    (Vivienne): omw.

    Thirty minutes later, I see Vivienne¡¯s white SUV out front. I put on the usual attire and bring the gun case with my mask inside. I get outside and into the back of the car.

    ¡°You said you had a lot to talk about.¡±

    ¡°I do. I¡¯ll tell you about it on our way to the base,¡± Vivienne said, pulling out of my driveway.

    <hr>

    Three out of four isn¡¯t bad, and arguably, they got the three strongest. I fully believe that Tuesday messed up the bombs on purpose. It fits her to a T. Tuesday always needs to test boundaries, and she likely sees V¡¯s rule as a boundary to test. The fallout of two of the board members for Momentus Inc. fighting just as we¡¯re starting is unacceptable. The two of them are both needed for Quinstin. Vivienne more so than Tuesday, but having an assassin who can infiltrate anywhere is also valuable. I have to clamp down on Tuesday and keep Vivienne from finding out the truth.

    ¡°Hey, Nobody, we¡¯re here,¡± V said.

    I grab my mask and put it on. Vivienne and I hop out, and I grab my gun case. I need V to destroy all evidence linking me to Maria and that dead woman.

    ¡°V. Do me a favor and completely destroy this case and everything in it,¡± I said, patting it.

    ¡°Sure,¡± she said, transforming.

    Vivienne takes the case from me and starts crushing the metal box in her hands. The steel groans as she crushes it in her hands. The heat warps the case as it bursts into flames. A bang goes off as the gunpowder activates, but Vivienne keeps it contained. She keeps forcibly condensing the case as it becomes spherical and glows white hot. Any impurities in the metal are burned away until all that is left is a softball-sized white ball. She lifts one leg, mimicking a pitcher¡¯s stance, and launches the superheated cannonball toward the bay, where it will sink to the bottom. She shifts to her human form and smiles.

    ¡°All taken care of,¡± V said, dusting her hands off.

    ¡°Well done,¡± I said.

    We walk over to the entrance and get buzzed in. Tuesday and Kai are waiting for us inside. The box truck is parked inside the large open area like last time. Tuesday keeps flinging rubber bands at Kai, and he¡¯s doing his best to ignore her. Don¡¯t let her win. If you show a reaction, she¡¯s won. The base doesn¡¯t have the full crew. Isaiah, Rorschach, and Miles are already in Quinstin, getting things set up.

    ¡°Meals on Wheels: superpowers edition,¡± Tuesday said, slapping the truck.

    ¡°What¡¯s the status of the prisoners?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re all inside and ready for you whenever you want. The basket case just killed the immortal again. I know you¡¯re taking it, but what I wouldn¡¯t give to be able to study it. Think of it: a guinea pig that can¡¯t die. We could do so much,¡± Kai remarked.

    ¡°The test trials are over for now, Doctor,¡± I said.

    ¡°Regrettable,¡± Kai pouted.

    ¡°Hey, uh, is this thing on?¡± Tuesday asked, tapping her throat.

    ¡°Yes, you buffoon. We¡¯re choosing to ignore your childish wailings, you wretched moron,¡± Kai yelled.

    She got under his skin.

    ¡°Dearest me, now, whatever could I have done to deserve such a verbal lashing?¡± Tuesday asked, her voice switching to a pompous older woman.

    ¡°Enough. Both of you quit fuckin¡¯ around,¡± Vivienne snapped.

    Both of their heads swivel toward my second in command. Vivienne has a domineering look on her face that brooks no trouble. She is still working through what happened at the bunker. At the rate we¡¯re going, maybe getting a company therapist would be wise. I call Vivienne over, and she throws open the back of the truck. Inside are some sorry-looking specimens. Father Forward is maimed, broken, and blinded. General Prior is missing both legs and looks faint. The final prisoner is the immortal, judging by the rapidly closing slit neck. Him first, then.

    I hop into the back of the truck and move toward the Bruiser. He''s wrapped up in chains so tightly he can''t move an inch. The man is quite large, and my eyes are drawn to the rapidly closing gash on his neck. The dried blood colors his white skin a rusty clay color. Fresh rivulets of red slip out of the wound as it closes completely. Something stirs inside me as I stare at it.

    ¡°Tuesday, come in here,¡± I called out.

    Tuesday jumps up into the back with me.

    ¡°What''d ya need me for? Want help handling the Neo Not-Zis? Cause they can''t do anything. No, that sucked. Gimme a minute,¡± She said.

    ¡°I need a knife.¡±

    ¡°Okaaaaaay,¡± Tuesday said, flicking a knife out of her sleeve and handing it to me.

    I inspect the knife in my hand, feeling the leather grip of the handle and tracing my finger across the side of the blade. These urges are powerful. The knife slips between the Bruiser''s ribs without any resistance. She takes good care of her knives. I pull out the weapon and plunge it back in multiple times. The Bruiser wakes up during my stabbing and chuckles as I continue to bleed him.

    ¡°Cute. But nothing you do matters. I am one of God''s chosen favorites, and like our father in heaven above, I will always rise again,¡± he said.

    Blood is pouring out of all the holes I''ve poked in him. More. I don''t stop stabbing until his chest looks like a sponge. It''s good I don''t have trypophobia. His blood is all over my glove, sleeve, and boots. The truck''s floor is drenched and covered by a large pool of red. Control yourself. I hand the weapon back to Tuesday, who''s practically purring by this point. I should step out before I lose it again. I walk past Tuesday and jump down.

    ¡°So, doc, you got anything to help keep the earpieces in place when I transform? They fall right out of my ear when I get bigger. And do you have a way to make it fireproof? It''s just a pain to have to keep asking for new ones when I lose or melt them,¡± V said.

    ¡°It¡¯s unfortunate that it doesn''t transform as your clothing does. We could try surgery and implant the earpiece, or rather the necessary components of the earpieces, into you,¡± Kai suggested.

    ¡°I don''t know if I''m down with putting machinery inside me. Kinda gives me the heebie-jeebies. Don''t you have some Tinkertech that can change shape on the fly and is flame retardant?¡±

    ¡°I actually have just the thing. I did a trade a few years back with a Tinkerer whose specialty was shape and size-changing technology that was also nonflammable. Why didn''t I think of that first? OH YEAH, IT''S BECAUSE THAT''S TOO FUCKING SPECIFIC TO EXIST!¡±

    ¡°Watch it. You could''ve just said no. You don''t need to be a dickhead,¡± V said.

    She''s being cordial despite Kai¡¯s nasty personality.

    ¡°Kai, your suggestion isn''t terrible, but most people find unnecessary invasive surgery a deal breaker. Now, do you actually have any Tinkertech comm devices?¡± I interjected.

    ¡°I have one, but it isn''t really applicable to our current conversation. There was a Bio Tinkerer who specialized in organic machines. I have two of his machines in my collection. They are essentially basic computers, but their size is the problem. They''re huge and not as effective as a regular tower that''s a quarter of the size,¡± Kai said.

    ¡°Sorry, did you just say you have living computers?¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°Not living, organic. Like you wouldn''t consider paper or a wool sweater to be alive, it''s like that. It''s more like a PC made of skin.¡±

    ¡°Jesus. What the fuck?¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°Sounds cute. So they made some sort of Necronomicom-puter. That name is a little too wordy, but I¡¯ll workshop it and get back to you,¡± Tuesday said.

    It sounds repulsive. I leave the three of them to argue about what constitutes cuteness. Climbing back into the truck, I see the immortal grinning at me. The holes are already almost completely closed.

    ¡°Back so soon? You should''ve seen by now that you can''t hurt me. God gave me the gift of resurrection, and I have nothing to fear,¡± he said.

    I place the back of my hand against his cheek, activating my power.

    ¡°What are you doing? Don''t touch me with your impure hands.¡±

    ¡°I don''t care whether you fear me or not. I am as inevitable as death, even for you,¡± I said.

    He looks confused but quickly shakes it off.

    ¡°The only inevitable thing is that your soul will be destroyed in the burning lakes of Hell. I have been freed from death, our glorious Father in heaven has seen to that. You conspire with demons, minorities, and godless scum. This is but a test of faith that I will weather and emerge stronger from it,¡± he said.

    My internal timer is almost up: 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1. His confident look evaporates, and his panic-stricken eyes dart around. He tries to speak but sputters in disbelief.

    ¡°If God gave you your power, then what does that make me?¡±

    I move on to Father Forward and Franklin Prior next; the two of them are close enough that I can touch both at the same time. The former Bruiser is mumbling and weeping. This is not a test of faith. If God does exist he wouldn''t have chosen such directionless weaklings. Originally, I planned to kill and disappear their bodies, but a better idea has just come to me. These will be better used to strengthen the idea that there is more than one vigilante.

    ¡°Tuesday, I have a mission for you.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I got it. Maaaaan V, you really turned that priest from a Nazi to a Not See,¡± Tuesday joked. ¡°Get it? Because she blinded him.¡±

    ¡°That feels incredibly distasteful,¡± Kai remarked.

    Vivienne snickers while trying to stifle her laughter. All of us turn to look at her.

    ¡°It¡¯s a good pun. I''m a sucker for wordplay,¡± V said.

    ¡°Anyways. Once you finish the mission, you can meet up with everyone in Quinstin. Take the truck and bring these three to any police station in Rhode Island. I don''t care how you kill them, but make it look theatrical and vengeful. Do you remember the phrase to write?¡±

    Tuesday stops bothering Kai and just looks at me. She is still and quiet. The wide smile peeking out from beneath the bedazzled bunny mask is primal and predatory. She doesn''t say anything, and the silence stretches on long enough for Kai to look uncomfortable. Vivienne is watching the assassin like she''s a rabid dog. When Tuesday finally responds, she does so without any accents, effects, or exotic dialects.

    ¡°The Law Falters, Justice Does Not.¡±

 Chapter 55 - How?

    I leave Kai and Vivienne to head to my office. The database didn''t really convey how powerful the Bruiser could become. Every resurrection gives a flat point zero one percent increase in strength, speed, durability, and mental faculties. It''s not just a Bruiser type; it''s also a Mentalist ability. If I gave this to Vivienne and the increases carried over to her shifted form, she could become the strongest Neuvohuman of all time¡ªan immortal, loyal soldier who can take on anyone. Forget Quinstin; I could run the United States. If it weren¡¯t for the fact I¡¯d have to kill her repeatedly, I might give it to her. His personality piece is a constant hunger. It isn¡¯t related to any caloric intake component of his ability, either. Odd.

    Father Forward¡¯s power is exactly as it was described. He''s a Tier Five Manipulator who limited himself down to a Tier Three. Being able to control fire, light, electricity, plasma, radiation, and more but choosing only to use light was idiotic. This would synergize well with Lee Daeshim¡¯s electricity powers. Miles has done well so far, but I''d like to continue to observe him before creating such a potent threat. The personality piece is a weird one, but it makes sense from what Vivienne described. A flair for dramatics and theatrics is maybe the most out-there piece I¡¯ve gotten.

    General Franklin Prior''s ability seems useful at first. But needing to touch someone to apply the shield is limiting. Surprisingly there is no limit on the duration or range. Once applied, it stays until it''s destroyed. I don''t have anyone who could take advantage of this. Not yet anyway. The personality piece is a longing for family. It might make me feel something for Daniel.

    I turn the Database on to do another search for Aubrey''s teammates. Anything I can learn about them will help, especially if Virtue has a vendetta against me. I search for Virtue first. Virtue is a tier five Caster/Traveler/Bruiser/Mentalist Legacy Cape. Her parents are the Cape couple of Protos and Maximum. Flight speed is equal to that of a fighter jet, resistant to most forms of damage, accelerated thinking and memory retention, upper limits of strength unknown, and enhanced senses. All that without even mentioning she has heat vision. Eighteen years old, Virtue, AKA Violet Graves, did not have a trigger event and instead gained her powers at sixteen. I skim past irrelevant facts and videos of her in action. Legacy Capes are no joke. Could I give two people a collection of powers, have them procreate, and then take the power from their offspring? Can I take the powers from the parents after the child is born? Or would it not transfer the powers to their child? It seems like such an investment of time and money in the hopes of creating a super child. Once Momentus Inc. is larger and more established I can see about initiating some breeding tests.

    Under the category team is the rest of their group and Phoenix. I move on to the next member of Aubrey''s team. Zephyr, AKA Sydney Dwyer, is twenty years old, so she''s one of the Sophomores Aubrey mentioned. She is a Tier Four Manipulator/Traveler who commands the wind. She can use this to fly and even let others fly. Tornadoes, gale winds, and even siphoning the air out of a room are possible. She can communicate through the wind, allowing her voice to be heard from miles away. This one is another powerhouse. This must be the one Isaiah said prevented Ciggs from escaping.

    Ward, AKA Raphael Mendez, is an eighteen-year-old Tier Two Manipulator. His power is strong, but he''s a utility Cape. Raphael can trace out red lines with his body that create absolutely impervious translucent red walls. If he makes a shape, there is only one way to get out of it: him allowing you to. He can designate others that are allowed to bypass his walls. His walls can''t be tunneled under or flown over; they seemingly go on forever in either direction. He has no physical capabilities to speak of and zero fighting experience. I close out Ward''s profile and pull up the last member of their group.

    Adversary, AKA Douglas Apper, is the first profile to have a flexible rating for how dangerous he is. Doug can be anywhere from Tier One to Tier Five, depending on the situation. He is an Alter with a secondary Mentalist tag. His power automatically determines a person¡¯s strength and threat level, changing Adversary''s strength to match the situation. Interesting, so if an older woman swung at him, he wouldn''t get any benefit, but if she had a gun, he would be bulletproof. His power even accounts for groups of people and adjusts his strength to the group''s threat level as a whole. Unlike Anna Lee¡¯s power, which could activate without her knowing about the danger, Adversary¡¯s ability doesn¡¯t activate against unknown opponents. He has years of training in over eight different types of martial arts and fighting styles. Vivienne would love to fight him.

    Aubrey has somehow found her way onto a team of powerhouses. I can''t picture her being a competent Cape after that night at the docks. I''ll be able to keep a close eye on their team through Aubrey. I should look up more detailed information on the Heroes'' Union members in Quinstin.

    The screen goes black and then I''m plunged into complete darkness. I can''t see anything. My helmet is designed to allow me to see in the dark. What happened? Did Aubrey make a mistake? The door to my office is locked, so I can safely remove the helmet without exposing my identity. I press the button repeatedly, but nothing happens. Am I going to have to ask Vivienne to break the helmet? I hear footsteps despite the door not opening. The clack of nice dress shoes on the floor gets closer as someone approaches my desk.

    ¡°Who''s there?¡± I asked.

    My regular voice comes out without the helmet''s voice modulator working. There''s no response from whoever is in here. It could be Tuesday playing a trick on me, but she wouldn''t be able to disable my helmet. I lean back in my chair, folding my arms. Depending on who this is, I might be able to overpower them. I just have to wait until they''re close enough. The footsteps get closer and closer, the intruder still silent. When they go around my desk, I make my move, rushing toward the noise. I miss them completely and receive a knee to the stomach for my troubles. Before I''m able to get up, they stomp on my right wrist. It hurts, but it isn''t even close to the most pain I''ve felt. When I try to push myself up, I get another kick into my ribs. Fuck. This isn¡¯t going well. They grab the back of my shirt, hauling me to my feet.

    ¡°C''mon, Eryk, we don¡¯t want to be late for your meeting,¡± a male voice said.

    Wait. He said Eryk, not Nobody. Someone knows who I am. His voice sounds familiar but I can¡¯t place it. I can feel a slight breeze followed by a freezing cold that lasts for less than a fraction of a second. The man handcuffs my wrists behind my back and pushes me to the ground. Is this how I die, ambushed in my own base by some unknown assailant? Executed like a cow to the slaughter, unable to defy my fate? I feel my face growing hotter by the second. How dare he do this to me?

    ¡°Thank you, Andrew. You may take your leave. I have a lot to discuss with Mr. Blakely,¡± a feminine voice said.

    It¡¯s clear that I am no longer at the base. Then where the fuck am I? Whoever Andrew is, he doesn''t respond. I don''t hear him leave, but clearly, he''s a Traveller if he was able to infiltrate the base and spirit me away to wherever I am. Calm down, think. This is just like the trial; it was one versus five, and I still came out on top. I''m confident that there isn''t anyone who can match my intellect or cunning.

    ¡°That helmet looks claustrophobic. I can fix that for you.¡±

    My helmet shifts, transforming back into the flat mask mode and falling to the ground in front of me. My head is free from the darkness, my face exposed to whoever kidnapped me. Did she do that? If she did, then how? I turn my head, scanning everything around me and committing it to memory. There is no telling what little detail could help me in my escape. I''m in a huge, empty, circular room. The floor, walls, and ceiling are all made of seamlessly connected cobalt metal. The light in the room is coming from moving glowing spheres that don''t follow any sort of pattern. They aren''t connected to the ceiling, and there aren''t any wires. This reeks of Tinkertech.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    So whoever is in charge either has a Tinkerer on payroll or is one themselves. I need to find a way out of here. The room has no visible doors, windows, hatches, vents, or any other kind of opening. Without knowing where I am, it''ll be hard to figure out a plan. I need to explore. Rolling over, I tighten my core, leaning into myself to rock myself onto my feet. There must be a way out; I just need to find it. The process of tracing the room, using my elbow to check for any kind of seam or line to indicate a door, takes me over fifteen minutes. Nothing. How is there no exit?

    ¡°You''re wondering how a room with no exit can exist. Don''t worry yourself about things beyond your comprehension,¡± she said.

    Her voice seems to come from everywhere, like stereo sound from headphones. She''s trying to irritate me into reacting emotionally. Too bad for you. I won''t lose in a battle of control. I show the most trusting and harmless smile I have in my arsenal.

    ¡°You know my name already, both of them. But I don¡¯t know yours. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Does that normally work for you?¡± She ignored my question.

    ¡°I''m not sure what you mean. Somehow, we have run afoul of one another, and I''m interested in generating a satisfying resolution for both of us,¡± I said.

    ¡°Run afoul? Don''t get ahead of yourself, child. You lack the capability to affect my plans. You are here because I decided a conversation was needed to instruct you on a few matters,¡± she said coldly.

    No one speaks like that to Eryk or Nobody. This woman has to die. She''s just trying to unnerve me, the same thing I do to others. Don''t fall for the bait.

    ¡°The fact that you brought me here means you want something from me. Why don''t you introduce yourself and then we can discuss terms,¡± I suggested.

    ¡°Terms? There aren''t going to be any terms. Terms are set between equal parties, and we are not equals. The gulf between you and I is so vast that you have more in common with termites infesting a log. You arrogantly believe you¡¯re incapable of losing. But there is no winning here, Eryk; this isn¡¯t a competition. Let me put this plainly; your continued existence is based on me allowing you to,¡± she said.

    Something snaps inside me. Punch''s aggression mixes with Tramp''s pride, Big Phish¡¯s bloodlust, and Carapace¡¯s irritability, producing a feeling I haven''t had since giving away Davis¡¯ power. My whole being is boiling, and I can''t even think straight.

    ¡°WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? NO ONE TALKS TO ME THAT WAY. NO ONE. I WILL MAKE YOU BEG FOR MERCY BEFORE I RIP YOUR HEART OUT,¡± I screamed.

    ¡°There we go. The real Eryk Blakely has come out: a sick, violent, murderous child throwing a psychopathic tantrum. You believe yourself above all the other crabs, but you are trapped in the exact same bucket. Look around you,¡± she said.

    The walls shift, seams appearing where there weren''t any. I checked those. They liquefy, the metal dripping down and being absorbed into the floor. What is left shocks me out of my fury. Three hundred and sixty degrees around me is clear glass, revealing where I am¡ªa deep black void with twinkles interspersed everywhere. I shakily turn around and see swirling white mixed with blue and vaguely brown and green shapes between them. Earth? I can see the sun far to my left and countless rocks and other debris around us. I drop to my knees, my brain trying to comprehend what I¡¯m seeing. Space? I¡¯m in space?

    ¡°You are an insignificantly small cog in the grand machine, but even you have a part to play.¡±

    ¡°Who are you?¡± I asked, my voice low.

    This isn''t something a small timer could accomplish. Is this the BNA, the Heroes'' Union, or some other unknown group? How have I never heard of a Neuvohuman space station? Whoever is responsible is powerful in a way I didn¡¯t think was possible. From the way the woman speaks it¡¯s clear that she believes herself superior to me. I can¡¯t argue that she has accomplished more.

    The center of the room swirls as it pulls away to expose an opening. I hear a sound coming from the hole, and it''s getting louder. A platform is rising from within, and there is someone on it. A woman, no, a female humanoid, stands in the center. Is she a Shifter? A stretched-out black neck made of wires and black metal cylinders leads to a perfectly symmetrical sky-blue face with two pulsing red lines going down the eyes, eyes that glow white with no pupils or irises. Her hair is a swirling mass of thick, coaxial cables striped with pink, red, and blue lines. Five disconnected curved ovals float off to each side of the being''s incredibly elongated arms, mimicking wings. Her chest is silver with blue lights on the front. She has an open-faced skirt emerging out of her waist. The wings, arms, legs, and skirt share a black metallic coloring with either deep blue or red lines carved into them, turning at harsh right angles. The being¡¯s legs end at a rounded knee with ghostly white fire forming the remainder of her legs. Within the flames are strings of what looks like code to me. She is like an angelic android. Who is that?

    She floats over to where I am, floating above me. Her robotic mouth morphs into a mocking smile while her eyes change to crescent moons. She¡¯s bending at her waist and her left hand is placed against her chest while her right is outstretched, pointing a finger at me.

    ¡°I know everything about you, Eryk. I know about Vivienne, Isaiah, Kai, Rorschach, Tuesday, Miles, and Nicholas. I know about your everyman vigilante plan, Momentus INC, the murders, all your experiments with the Subjects, and what you''re planning to do in Quinstin. Eryk, I know about your ability,¡± she said.

    How? There''s no way she can possibly know all about that. Think. Focus. Start looking for answers. I''ve covered my tracks; no one within the organization would betray me, and none of them know as much as this woman does. Can she read minds? Some sort of psychic Mentalist who can see thoughts. There has never been a recorded instance of a Neuvohuman having telepathy, only telekinesis. I cannot come up with an explanation of how this person could have all this information.

    ¡°How do you know all that?¡±

    ¡°Think back, Eryk, think of everything you''ve done. The answer is right there,¡± she said gleefully.

    She¡¯s taunting me. I close my eyes, going over everything that''s happened since I put on the helmet. The docks, where the idea for Nobody really started. Meeting Vivienne and testing the idea of having a partner. Meeting Kai for the first time. Killing Murmur and Kitt. Accessing the database and understanding how much I could do with it. My eyes go wide as it dawns on me.

    ¡°I¡¯m serious, V, this doesn¡¯t make sense. Something isn¡¯t adding up. There¡¯s no reason for a random drug-addicted PI to have something like this. It almost feels like a trap, but the bait is too good to pass up.¡±

    My voice comes through loud and clear, echoing around us. Everything clicks into place. She created the database.

    ¡°The database?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I call them Tomes, but correct. You said it yourself. Kitt Sursich could not possibly have created such a powerful piece of technology. His rampant drug use combined with underlying psychiatric issues had convinced him he made it himself,¡± she said.

    ¡°All of this was preplanned?¡±

    ¡°No, Kitt stole the Tome from one of my agents. He couldn¡¯t recognize what he had acquired. Neither did you. He only used it to track down small-time criminals to fund his self-destructive lifestyle. I¡¯ve made hundreds of them, so it wasn''t a pressing issue to get it back. Imagine my surprise when suddenly, one day, the Tome is being used more efficiently and for far more than Kitt ever did. That''s when I learned of your existence. It was simple enough to use my Tome to infect your helmet with a trojan program of mine. It takes advantage of the cameras built into your helmet that allow you to see through it, to record and stream everything you see or hear to me. I contemplated putting an end to you after seeing all that you were doing, but your power proved too useful,¡± she said.

    I stared at my helmet in its mask form, lying down on the floor. The thing I used to keep my identity and actions a secret was being used to track everything I did. I¡¯m speechless¡ªthis whole time, she has been watching and recording my every move. At any point, she could have brought down everything I¡¯ve created.

    How?

    ¡°After you finished learning the limits and parameters of your ability, I knew you could be used to solve a problem of mine. Your doctor is quite talented and keeps meticulous notes. Of course, I have copies. My program infected every piece of technology in that quaint base of yours,¡± she said.

    ¡°What could I possibly help you with? You seem to have everything planned out,¡± I said.

    ¡°You¡¯re the only person who can help me with two of my goals: continuing to protect humanity from itself and solving a problem that has plagued me for 170 years,¡± she said.

    Protecting humanity from itself? Wait, one hundred and seventy?

    ¡°How?¡± I asked for what must be the umpteenth time.

    She floats around me, swirling through the air until she¡¯s above me. Looking down at me, she smiles.

    ¡°You lack the knowledge needed to ask the correct questions. It isn¡¯t how, but who. In order to explain who I am, I need to tell you a story. About the founding of the Supreme Six and how I became known as Technologica,¡± she said.

 Chapter 56 - History Lesson II

    Technologica? As in the leader of the Supreme Six? The founder of the Heroes'' Union should be long dead by now. Technologica was a Tinkerer, but her specialty was always unknown, even after death. This automaton could be a creation of Technologica¡¯s, but the history books would¡¯ve mentioned if she had made robots.

    ¡°Technologica is dead; all of the Supreme Six are. Are you one of her creations?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Incorrect. Only Ratqueen and Mawler are dead; they declined Captain Chrono¡¯s offer. As for your question, I am both Technologica and a creation of hers,¡± she answered.

    If she''s telling the truth, then that means Apex, Voyde, Captain Chrono, and Technologica are still around. Four of the most powerful Capes to ever exist. If they are all alive, why hasn''t anyone heard from them?

    ¡°Forgive me if I have trouble believing you. You did kidnap me, assault me, berate me, and treat me like a petulant child. Why would I believe you wouldn¡¯t also lie to me?¡±

    ¡°All of that was necessary to make you understand that we are not collaborators and that I am in a position of complete superiority. If you are to work for me, you need to know your place,¡± Technologica said, floating around in a relaxed manner.

    Again, a spike of aggression comes up that I''m forced to keep inside. Calm down. Losing my temper here could result in being ejected out of here into space.

    ¡°You''re a Cape, like one of the first-ever Capes. I''m a Cowl; I can''t work for you,¡± I rebutted.

    ¡°I was a Cape; now I am above classifications. I don''t concern myself with good and evil, right and wrong, only what is needed. What I do here is for the good of everyone. Sometimes, that means neutralizing a person who hasn''t done anything wrong but will. Or letting a monster further his plans because the net benefit he provides outweighs his crimes,¡± Technologica said.

    Her comment feels directed at me, but I let it go.

    ¡°You said you had a story to tell me, didn''t you?¡±

    ¡°Yes. You have been taught about the Middletown Massacre in school, correct?¡± Technologica said, floating down to stand next to me. The liquid metal composing the room rises off of the floor, forming a rounded cocoon chair. Another one rises behind me, and I fall into it. I nod, and she continues.

    ¡°Six selfless Capes coming together to fight off an evil that threatened to spill over into the rest of the country. I can¡¯t speak for the others, but I was not there for such an altruistic reason. I went because the alternative was to let the two of them ruin modern society. I wasn¡¯t even a Cape at the time; I was just a lab researcher who had triggered. The six of us attempted to infiltrate the city so we could capture the Whore and Schizophobia to put an end to the nightmare. It didn¡¯t work. We weren¡¯t a team; we were six strangers trying to accomplish the impossible. I crafted multiple plans with the others, but we had been fighting the monsters for days and hadn¡¯t made permanent progress. It¡¯s not that we couldn¡¯t have gotten farther, but the others were reluctant to kill civilians, even after I explained that they were beyond saving. We certainly had the firepower to just murder our way to the two Cowls. Chrono came up with the idea to attempt to rewind the entire city and everyone in it. He hoped it would undo the harm that the Whore and Schizophobia had done. It did not work, and it left him unconscious for days. Even as countless plans went awry, I was constantly watching and learning. I saw what the others could do and after a month with no progress, I had derived a solution. I would do what the others would not,¡± Technologica said.

    The Supreme Six were a bunch of bleeding hearts. Hope is nothing more than the inability to face reality due to delusion. Technologica¡¯s mindset is closer to my own than I realized.

    ¡°I built a machine that would be able to utilize the Captain¡¯s chronal powers as well as Voyde¡¯s unique energy. They believed me when I lied about what it could do and helped me. Apex and Mawler built walls to surround the city to trap everyone inside. Ratqueen¡¯s swarm helped me generate enough power for the machine to work. And when the time came, Voyde and Captain Chrono poured their powers into an invention that none of them understood.¡±

    What is her specialty? Is it that she can build Tinkertech that utilizes other Neuvohuman¡¯s powers? Her story doesn¡¯t match the history books at all. We were told they accomplished the quarantine in three days, but she¡¯s saying it was over a month.

    ¡°What did it do?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It fired a bomb. Normally, Voyde¡¯s powers mimic the inevitable effects of decay and death, so they are slow. But using Captain Chrono¡¯s temporal abilities, I could capture the energy and displace it. I created a fourth-dimensional warhead of entropy hidden in the space between moments. The fourth dimension can affect the third dimension, where our existence lies, even if we cannot see it. The rest of them thought that my machine had failed until it went off. One moment, there was a city full of warped monsters, and in less than an observable amount of time, it exploded. I had done the math, and I knew we¡¯d be safe behind the fortifications I had them make. No one could believe their eyes; I had deleted Middletown and all of its inhabitants from existence.¡±

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    What the hell is her specialty? Is she using this story as a threat?

    ¡°No one except Captain Chrono. His powers allowed him to sense, if not see, what I had done. He explained what had happened, and while Ratqueen and Mawler somewhat understood, Apex and Voyde did not. Voyde was furious at what I had done, what I had made them all culpable in. She called me an inhuman monster¡ªa heartless creature wielding technology without consideration of consequence or emotion. Voyde is the one who came up with my moniker, a combination of my real name, Angelica, and technology. She said it was because I was more like a machine than a person,¡± Technologica said.

    Is there anything I can do with her first name? It¡¯s an innocuous fact that doesn¡¯t give me any leverage. She is too practiced and proficient in speaking to let any important detail slip.

    ¡°It looks like she was right,¡± Technologica laughed, pointing at herself. ¡°After the government agents showed up, we, along with a few members of Congress, decided to pivot it to be that we valiantly held the line while the United States killed its people. They figured it was easier for the government to shoulder the blame rather than six individuals. Apex realized the ramifications of what would happen and that we would be crowned heroes. He and Voyde came up with the idea for the Heroes¡¯ Union in a single afternoon. The rest is history,¡± she said.

    ¡°But how did you end up being the leader?¡± I asked. My curiosity had been piqued.

    ¡°They couldn¡¯t jail one of the Supreme Six or admit to what I had done. So, the others told me my punishment was to lead the team and that we would vote on any decision before we made it. Over time, I came to see it as less of a punishment and became close with everyone. Except for Voyde, she never forgave me or let me in; she didn¡¯t even show up for my funeral,¡± Technologica answered.

    The more we speak, the more I¡¯m beginning to realize that this is, in fact, the real Technologica. I have made an enemy of one of the strongest Capes to have ever lived. Her identity doesn¡¯t change a thing. She needs to die for the disrespect. I will listen and watch and find a way to escape.

    ¡°Come, Eryk, I have much to show you,¡± Technologica said.

    Our seats melt back into the floor, and I hit the ground while she floats over to the platform. I approach it cautiously, wary of any signs it will suddenly disappear. She''s made it clear she won''t kill me. My ability is too valuable to her goals. The platform rises an inch before beginning its descent. Some of the light spheres follow us down the hole, keeping it well-lit. The walls give way to some kind of glass that shows everything around us, including the structure we''re lowering into. The rest of the space station is a set of interconnected metal spheres. Each one is a different size, with some having glass tops to show off the enclosed ecosystems within. It''s huge, with each sphere being at least as big as the warehouse base, if not much, much larger. How is this place undiscovered?

    The trip takes us through multiple spheres. Some have entire farms with glass domes facing toward the sun that are being tended to by faceless, basic androids. Others have giant assembly lines building computer parts and bits of machinery. They¡¯re operated by giant robotic arms attached to the ceiling that remind me of the ones Kai had in his OR. We pass through a library that must be ten stories tall, filled to the brim with books. And not computer files or tablets but real paper books. The sheer amount would put the Library of Congress to shame. The cafeteria is empty but just as nice, clean, and state-of-the-art as every other sphere we¡¯ve entered. The platform takes us through storage facilities full of boxes and crates piled all the way to the ceiling. We even pass through a jungle, complete with trees, insects, and wildlife. Each sphere is like its own little world that Technologica controls. What she has done is nothing short of incredible. My aspirations and accomplishments are pitiful compared to hers.

    The platform finally stops in front of an unassuming wall with a projected keypad off to the side. The projection looks scrambled to me, but I guess that is the point. Technologica doesn¡¯t move or speak as she types a code in, but the wall groans before it splits in two, revealing another wall that splits open. I count twenty-five of these walls before I can see what is at the end of it. The grinding sounds coming from the walls can only be caused by time and neglect. She steps off the platform, and I have no choice but to follow behind her. Technologica isn¡¯t floating, she¡¯s walking, and there is a somberness in the air that tells me wherever she''s taking me is significant.

    The room at the end of all the walls is pitch black, and I can¡¯t tell how big it is. Technologica reaches up and pulls a string, activating an overhead light. It flickers, blinking before it illuminates the room. Contrasted with all the places I''ve seen, this one stands out as older. There is a computer set up with an actual keyboard and mouse. All the machinery has a yellow tinge from aging. This room is old. There aren''t any modern furnishings or futuristic technology. A thick layer of dust covers everything. Spider webs hang from the corners of the ceilings and drape across equipment, but there aren''t any signs of the insects. Even the spiders are long dead. The left side of the room has large oval shaped machines covered by tarps. This place is less of a laboratory and more of a mausoleum.

    Technologica walks over and rips the coverings off of the machines. Two pods, eerily similar to the one I woke up in after the party, lie dark and covered in a layer of dust and grime. I can''t see inside to know whether they''re vacant. She wipes the glass off and pulls a lever that''s between the two pods. The two pods light up from within, showing two men in their underwear. One of them looks like the next level of evolution for our species; he''s forty-something and doesn''t even look real. Long brown hair and a thick, bushy beard cover his handsome face. But there is something that ruins his perfect image: a purple and green wound originating from the left side of his ribcage. The skin around the wound is pale, and I can see lines underneath his skin coming from the wounds. The jagged lines go all the way up to his neck and across his face. The green and purple lines extend past his waist and down to his left knee. The wound kind of looks like its pulsing, but that must be a trick of the low light in here.

    The second man is older, wrinkled, and scarred. He¡¯s bald and has a scar that starts at the top of his skull through his eye and down his cheek. Liver spots, healed burns, bullet holes, and knife wounds mar his aged frame. The geriatric man looks like he was a career soldier who lived in an active combat zone. Who are these people, and why does she have their corpses?

    ¡°Meet Apex and Captain Chrono. Or Alexei Agafonov, and Emmett Brown as I knew them,¡± she said.

    What the fuck. That¡¯s why she wants me here. She expects me to steal their abilities, but I can''t take powers from dead people. Will I get ejected out of the airlock if I tell the truth? Damn it, she¡¯ll find out soon enough, regardless.

    ¡°You want me to steal their powers,¡± I stated emotionlessly.

    ¡°Correct.¡±

    ¡°Slight problem with that; I can''t take powers from corpses. No matter how pristine the body condition, I can''t steal from the dead,¡± I said hesitantly.

 Chapter 57 - Scales

    ¡°I''m well aware of your limitations, child. But neither of them are dead. Both are alive, frozen in time, thanks to Emmett¡¯s ability.¡±

    ¡°What happened to Apex?¡±

    ¡°Alexei was marked,¡± Technologica said.

    ¡°Marked?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes. Marked by an ability. There was a Cowl serial killer back in the day named Scythe. She was an Alter/Manipulator with a very unique power. Her name came from her index fingers, which changed when she triggered. They looked like the blade on a scythe, and it gave her the power to mark someone with a single touch of either finger. Once marked, a rapidly debilitating disease came into effect that would kill the person marked. Scythe called it a curse. It wasn¡¯t a poison or a toxin. So many people tried to find any kind of antidote, but there wasn''t one. It couldn¡¯t be stopped, halted, or affected by Neutralizers. Cutting off the point of infection didn¡¯t do anything either. The only upside was that she could only mark one person at a time. Alexei noticed that the stronger a person¡¯s life force, the longer it would take for it to kill the person. That idiot decided to let her mark him. He figured it was the best option and would effectively make Scythe a regular person again. He was right, and Scythe ended up dying in prison as nothing more than an old crone with weird fingers. But her power weakened him, and every day, he got weaker, and the curse got stronger. By the time it got to this stage, Technologica had already died and disappeared from the world¡¯s perception. Ratqueen, Mawler, and Voyde thought I was dead, but Emmet and Alexei knew what I was up to up here. Alexei came to me when it got to the point where it was impacting his ability to help people.   Emmett froze Alexei in the hope that, given enough time, I would figure out how to cure him. Emmett came to me years later when he realized he wasn¡¯t able to fight crime anymore. He froze himself so that his power wouldn¡¯t stop when he died. He did that for our friend. But there hasn¡¯t been a power in all these years that could cure Alexei,¡± Technologica said.

    ¡°So, what, you''ve just been waiting for over a century for someone like me to appear? That''s crazy,¡± I said. Damnit. I didn''t mean to yell that out.

    ¡°Apex was the greatest hero ever to live and one of the few who deserved that title. His powers were unmatched and remain so to this day. With the way things are going, the world will need a new Apex soon. From the moment I saw what you could do, I realized the true potential of your ability; instead of leaving who becomes a Cape or Cowl to chance, I can properly distribute the powers to those who deserve it. You will help me create a group that can steer the world in the right direction,¡± she said.

    I don¡¯t like where this conversation is headed. Technologica is a complete control freak.

    ¡°Why not wait a little longer for another power to cure Apex? What makes you think the world needs someone like him again?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Both of your questions are valid and share a related answer. What do you know about Neuvohuman powers, Eryk?¡±

    ¡°What are we having a test now?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m correcting your ignorance; answer me.¡±

    ¡°Okay. There are ten classifications used to describe the aspects of an ability. Some powers fall under several and others are only one. Powers are rated on a scale of one to five depending on the threat level they pose. One is the lowest and is for powers that are either unhelpful, burdensome, or harmless. Five is the highest and reserved for powers that could destroy a city,¡± I responded.

    ¡°Correct. However, I have found over the years that a scale of one to five doesn''t allow for proper nuance or realistic threat measurement. It is also going to be obsolete soon. I have been operating on a zero to nine scale for the last decade or so. But instead of being used for powers, it is used for the threat level of the Neuvohuman. It doesn''t matter whether it''s a Cape or a Cowl, my scale ranks them on the maximum possible danger they could cause. Zero is used as the starting point for Neuvohumans who do not pose a threat any more than a regular person,¡± she said.

    ¡°Okay, I''m not seeing the correlation between any of this.¡±

    ¡°The point of an updated scale, of having you transfer Alexei¡¯s power into a new person, why I waited for someone like you to appear is all connected. I had a hypothesis about fifteen years after the formation of the Supreme Six. It seemed like powers were gradually getting weaker. New trigger events were resulting in abilities with more restrictions and less firepower. I''ve been able to observe the phenomenon in real time for well over a century,¡± she said.

    ¡°If powers are weaker than they used to be, how did you know someone would eventually appear that would have a helpful ability?¡± I interjected.

    ¡°Do not interrupt me. My hypothesis was partially correct but not entirely. The quality and potency of abilities aren''t constantly dropping. Instead, it follows a parabolic path. For eighty years, there was a decline, but fifty years ago, a reversal began. The strength of powers began an upswing, and now they¡¯ve officially reached a point of being stronger. You are a prime example. There has never been a mention, a whisper, a single recorded instance of a Neutralizer possessing permanent removal. You are also the first case of power redistribution, and then factoring in the combination effect, it''s clear this new wave will reach heights previously unseen. I believe it''s only a matter of time before a Manipulator who can fundamentally rewrite reality appears if they haven''t already. I have steadily watched over humanity, preventing it from further destroying itself through my actions and agents. But as new, bigger threats continue to arise, more will be needed. A group that can operate openly, unlike myself and my agents,¡± she said.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    ¡°And you want me to, what, give up what I''ve collected to this cause? Absolutely fucking not. I may be at your mercy up here, but I will die before I give up what is mine. I''ve worked far too hard to accomplish what I have to roll over,¡± I said venomously.

    I meant what I said, but saying it wasn¡¯t smart. I can fuse powers within people, but it¡¯s clear the personality pieces can mix as well. Impulsiveness combined with compulsive honesty is a recipe for ending up with my foot in my mouth. I can''t just back down and let her crush me. I am Nobody.

    ¡°Your tantrums are unnecessary, boy. If I wanted what you have, I would take it. I will provide the powers and the personnel. I don''t interfere in petty squabbles; you will be free to do as you have been. That is because of how useful your ability is. But there is a limit to my generosity, and I suggest you not find out where it is. Because the moment your actions cause more harm to humanity than your ability will benefit, I will kill you. There is nowhere you can hide that I can¡¯t find, no place my agents can''t reach, and nothing you or your group can do to stop me. You''re a necessary evil until you aren''t,¡± she said, not bothering to look at me.

    Even though she''s focused on the pods, I steel my face. Clamping down on my tongue and keeping every facial muscle taut, I won''t let her know she''s getting to me. She isn¡¯t lying or bragging. She abducted me from inside my base of operations without a single alarm going off or anyone noticing. She isn¡¯t even trying to get under my skin anymore; she¡¯s just being honest. None of that does anything to calm me down. From the moment I put on the helmet, I have never been disrespected like this. Underestimated? Yes, but never disrespected. I will have time to vent these feelings when I''m back.

    ¡°Understood. When will we be beginning? Do you want me to take the powers now, or are you waiting for something?¡±

    ¡°You must think I''m lying about my age if you think I''d let you leave with their powers. This was merely an introduction to let you know I''m watching and what I expect from you,¡± Technologica answered.

    I''ve gained nothing tangible from this trip. I need more. I can''t leave without learning more.

    ¡°How''d you do it? The books list you as a Tinkerer with an unknown specialty. But it would''ve been obvious if you had a biological aspect to your ability. How did you achieve immortality? Is it related to this form?¡± I asked, gesturing to her body.

    ¡°You have excellent control of your facial muscles, but I can still see your intentions written plainly on your face. Did you think I would just slip up and tell you my secrets if you asked nicely?¡± She asked. ¡°If you were ten times as clever as you think you are, you still wouldn¡¯t be my opponent. I have outmaneuvered the greatest strategists, I have outsmarted the best Mentalists, and I have made a fool out of silver-tongued masterminds who thought they were unbeatable. Do you think if I could be tricked by a teenage would-be despot, I would¡¯ve gotten this far? All that you are and have accomplished is as fragile as a sandcastle before high tide.¡±

    I have no retort, no witty remark, no counter to her statements. All I can do is stay quiet, stewing in my caustic thoughts. For the first time in my entire life, I¡¯m losing. Every time we exchange words, she pokes holes in my existence and leaves me with a sour taste in my mouth. But that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m out of options. I just need to survive, retreat, and plan the complete and utter destruction of this place and everyone in it. I will see this place drop out of space and burn up in the atmosphere.

    ¡°Come now, we have one more place to go to,¡± she said, walking out of the room.

    I rush after her, the various walls shutting behind me until we''re back on the platform. Technologica doesn''t address me as we travel through new and familiar spheres. I don''t speak either; I have too much on my mind. Am I expected to be at her beck and call then? From inside the glass tube, I can see that our next designation is the biggest sphere of the whole station. The gate slides open as the platform approaches it, and we enter.

    In the center of the room is a giant obelisk of wires, steel plates, and electronics stretching all the way to the ceiling. The wires are thicker than my entire torso and match the color scheme of Technologica. The walls are covered in possibly millions of screens displaying different scenes. Some of them look to be security camera footage, others are traffic cams, some look like first person perspective, and I recognize a lot of the locales displayed. She¡¯s watching everything. This place puts Kai¡¯s laboratory to shame. It¡¯s humongous and a hive of activity. There are floating platforms like ours casually floating around. An identical copy of Technologica is standing on each of the platforms, and they¡¯re all typing away at projected displays while watching the screens. I look at the Technologica next to me and then back at all the others. She, they, how? Clones? A lowball estimate would be a hundred of them. This isn¡¯t something a Tinkerer should be able to do. The T.I.D.E should¡¯ve prevented this.

    ¡°What are you? Are you, you? Or are all of you, you?¡± I asked.

    All at once the Technologicas look at me. I feel miniscule underneath their combined eyes.

    ¡°We are Technologica,¡± they said in unison.

    All but the Technologica who brought me here go back to what they were doing.

    ¡°We are Technologica, but also we aren¡¯t. These are all Avatars that I control simultaneously. From monitoring your helmet¡¯s feed to planning the abduction to every conversation we¡¯ve had today, has taken up less than one percent of my total attention,¡± Technologica said before floating away.

    The giant obelisk begins to shake and groan. Lines appear across the steel plates, similar to Kai¡¯s prosthetic before it transforms. The thick wires start to move, almost like they¡¯re snakes. What I thought were connection points at the end of the wires detach to show me they aren¡¯t connection points; they are tri-fingered claws. The top portion of the giant cylinder lifts into the ceiling, revealing a hexagonal box that ends in five points at the top. One of the points is longer than the others, and the sides of the hexagonal box have huge cables emerging out of it. The cables connect to the sides I can¡¯t see from where I am. Panels shift and open as larger versions of the wings the Avatars have emerge out of them. The mass of techno-tentacles are all connected to what looks like mantle armor, albeit scaled up by a hundred. The floor shakes as the entire thing turns toward me. Seeing a machine the size of a house move like this is breaking my brain. The side of the machine I couldn¡¯t see before has a glass window as big as a car on it. Inside is what looks like a large mass of flesh so out of place that I almost miss it. I recognize it as a human brain floating inside of the machine, but far bigger than it should be. The glass flickers as an image of the face the Avatars all share is projected onto the glass. This is Technologica, the real one, or what¡¯s left of her.

    ¡°Hello, Eryk. I believe the shock from all of this has rendered you speechless. Do you understand now? It isn¡¯t that I look down on your accomplishments; it¡¯s that we¡¯re operating on completely different scales. You have cultivated a single flower while I have maintained an entire forest. You react to what¡¯s happening; I guide what will.¡±

 Chapter 58 - I Am Nobody (End of Volume One)

    ¡°Andrew will bring you back now. I¡¯ll be in touch,¡± Technologica said.

    Without warning a man appears in front of me, holding my helmet. This man, Andrew, the one who assaulted and abducted me, is someone I recognize. Wearing sunglasses and his signature ugly pinstriped suit is Special Agent Andrew Waters. She has a BNA Special Agent working for her. I thought that everything from before accessing the Tome was safe from her eyes. But this means she no doubt has connected the dots between Aubrey and my helmet. It truly means her agents could be anyone.

    ¡°You ready to go, kid? Do you want me to drop you off at your dad''s? Kidding. I¡¯ll put him back right where I found him,¡± SA Waters joked.

    He puts my helmet back on me and makes a point to wave the keys to my cuffs in my face. The helmet is back to working as usual. My body is on the space station, but my mind is elsewhere. He needs to die. He knows too much and can get to me no matter where I am. I need a new helmet since this one has been compromised. I¡¯ll need to drug Aubrey so I can remove the power and have someone make me a new one. I feel Waters jostle me around as he activates his power.

    As I am right now, I am no match for Technologica. But she needs me for her project which buys me time. Time to plan, to grow, to gather whatever I need to take everything she holds dear. I won¡¯t stop until I crack open that tank and stomp her brain out. I might have to put some of my plans on the shelf for now. She said that monitoring me took less than one percent of her attention. That means she has a limit for processing. Her ability isn¡¯t just a Tinkerer one, but some kind of Mentalist. If I can divide her attention or distract her with enough fires, I can escape her notice.

    As short as the trip back to the base is, by the time we arrive, I have the beginnings of an idea. I feel SA Waters unlock my wrists and shove me forward. He says something but I¡¯m not listening. By the time I turn around, he¡¯s gone. Looking around my office, I notice something missing: the Tome. I figured she¡¯d take the Tome back. After letting me know how much more could be done with them, there wasn¡¯t a chance in hell she¡¯d let me keep it. I check my phone to see how long I¡¯ve been gone. Two hours? Okay. The plan I¡¯ve managed to come up with isn¡¯t ideal and involves someone else learning about my identity, but I don¡¯t have much of a choice. Every single piece of tech here needs to be destroyed; the whole base needs to be burned to ash. Phones, gadgets, everything needs to go. I walk into the conference room and take a look down below. The truck is gone, so Tuesday must¡¯ve left already. Good, she¡¯s the one who absolutely cannot know my identity.

    ¡°Kai, I need you and Vivienne up here immediately,¡± I said aloud.

    ¡°But I¡¯m.¡±

    ¡°Now, Kai. Get the fuck up here,¡± I said, cutting him off.

    Vivienne arrives first, bounding up the metal stairs like a lioness on the hunt.

    ¡°Everything okay, Nobody?¡±

    ¡°No, sit down.¡±

    Kai comes up next, but he doesn¡¯t look annoyed. Something about my order let him know this is important. He sits down, and the two of them look at me expectantly.

    ¡°Two hours ago, I was abducted from this base,¡± I said.

    ¡°What? Who did it? Are you okay?¡± Vivienne asked.

    ¡°How? There shouldn¡¯t be any way to get in here undetected,¡± Kai added.

    ¡°Neither of those are important at this moment. I have a lot to tell you both, and we don¡¯t have a lot of time. Actually, before we begin, both of you take out your phones, the burners, and your personal ones,¡± I said.

    I create a group text with everyone, including the two I have with me. I send a single text.

    (Nobody): Go dark. Destroy your phones immediately. Both of them. Going dark. Do not respond.

    I toss my phone at Vivienne, and Kai does the same. Both are looking at me strangely. Vivienne shifts, crushing the phones into a little ball.

    ¡°We are leaving tonight. Kai, you need to destroy every drone you have, and V, you need to burn this place down to slag¡ªno traces of anything,¡± I said.

    ¡°What? I haven¡¯t started moving my Tinkertech collection yet. And I was just starting to get a decent amount of drones,¡± Kai complained.

    ¡°Kai, all of it needs to stay here and be destroyed. Same goes for your arm,¡± I said.

    ¡°What? Why do I have to be the one to lose everything?¡±

    ¡°Not just you,¡± I said, transforming my helmet. It falls from my face and I throw the mask to Vivienne. Her eyes go wide, and Kai is dead silent. ¡°Do it, V.¡±

    I watch as Nobody¡¯s helmet burns and breaks down in her hands. The symbol of Nobody and all of I have accomplished. But the point of Nobody is anonymity, something that the helmet no longer provides or represents.

    ¡°Do you understand the severity of what has occurred, Doctor?¡±

    Kai pulls out his tablet and punches a code before tracing out a symbol. He places his palm on the center of the tablet, and I hear several small explosions akin to fireworks go off.

    ¡°It¡¯s done. Every drone is deactivated and fried. You¡¯re younger than I thought you¡¯d be,¡± Kai said, sliding the tablet over to V.

    ¡°I know. I have two questions for you: can you complete brain surgery with only one hand, and can those flesh computers of yours be used to receive sound?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes. And I think so. What do you have in mind?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to say anything yet. Grab whatever you¡¯ll need to perform two minor surgeries, but nothing that has a computer or a motherboard in it. V, I need you to go downstairs with him and help him gather what he needs. And bring the flesh computers with you,¡± I ordered.

    ¡°What do you want with Zero and Six?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°Bring them; they¡¯re needed for what I have in mind. I¡¯ll meet you both outside in one of the nearby warehouses. Don¡¯t say a word until we¡¯re outside. Vivienne, nuke the place. Be quick, Kai. I want to see you both in forty minutes. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    <hr>

    Subject Zero and Six¡¯s unconscious bodies are laid down on two old-school stretchers we¡¯re using as makeshift tables. Kai brought a good amount of supplies and a job site light. The sun will be up soon, but he¡¯ll need the light. A cart has the two flesh computers, and they are disgusting to look at. I¡¯m really taking a chance with this. I have to hope that Technologica¡¯s virus didn¡¯t work on those. The only noise in the empty warehouse is the crackling from the flaming wreckage that was our base. Vivienne did as I asked and razed the place to the ground. All that is left is a burning crater. Vivienne is by the door, watching the fire burn.

    ¡°You ready to tell us the plan? And what the hell has you so spooked we had to do all this?¡± Kai asked, waving his stump around.

    Vivienne¡¯s head turns at Kai¡¯s question.

    ¡°The database, V. Remember how we thought it was too good to be true? It was. That didn¡¯t belong to Kitt. It belongs to Technologica,¡± I said.

    ¡°Like the OG Technologica? Leader of the Supreme Six, Technologica?¡± V asked.

    ¡°Yes. And she used that to infect everything. She knows everything. Every crime, every decision, every fucking conversation we¡¯ve had.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t she dead?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°No, she is very much alive. And she has a secret space station where she watches over the world, controlling things from the shadows like some sort of puppetmaster. She is immensely powerful and had quite a few revelations for me. I can share those later, but right now, we need to get started on my first contingency,¡± I said.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    ¡°What the fuck? We¡¯re beefing with a Supreme Six member? Hell yeah, Nobody. Go big or go home, yeah?¡± V said.

    ¡°She is hands-off with us and Momentus INC, but we are on a time crunch. She needs me to use my ability for a project of hers, but after that, I don¡¯t doubt she will wipe us out,¡± I said.

    ¡°So what''s the plan?¡± Kai asked.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t had a lot of time to work on one. But I¡¯ve come up with something that might eventually be able to help us. It involves those two,¡± I said, pointing at the Subjects.

    ¡°Well, don¡¯t leave me with blue balls, Nobody. What are we doing?¡±

    ¡°I need you to put those two flesh computers inside the Subjects'' brains. I need you to hook it up to their sensory networks. I don¡¯t want to say much more than that,¡± I said.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to give me Diminish¡¯s power, aren¡¯t you? To get around the size issue? I was starting to wonder if you had an inflation kink,¡± Kai joked.

    I walk over to Kai, clasping his only hand, and activate my power. The anhedonia is going to blunt his personality, but I can always take it back after. ¡°Right on the money, doc. Let me know when you¡¯re finished.¡±

    After the five minutes pass, I walk outside, beckoning for V to follow. I drag a crate outside and plop down on it. I¡¯m exhausted and stressed; I have even more on my plate than before. I just got rid of Maria, and I already have a new woman ruining my life.

    ¡°Penny for your thoughts?¡± V asked.

    I look at her and think about all we¡¯ve done together. Vivienne Caldara is my first friend and the only person I¡¯ve ever felt a sense of comradery with. She is my lieutenant, my warrior, my right hand, and in order to protect what we have built, I have to cut that out of me. I already know which powers I¡¯m going to give Six and Zero and what I¡¯ll be losing because of it. Technologica is such a massive threat that I need to lose now If I ever want to have a chance of winning.

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking that I¡¯m glad we met,¡± I said genuinely.

    ¡°Same. You guys are the first group where I don¡¯t feel like an outsider. I know that it¡¯s silly to say that about a criminal organization, but I¡¯m happy here,¡± she said, blushing.

    ¡°It¡¯s not silly. I don¡¯t know where I¡¯d be now if I had never met you, but I¡¯m positive I¡¯d be worse off. I¡¯m better for having met you.¡±

    ¡°Me too. I never would¡¯ve imagined I¡¯d do half the stuff we¡¯ve done. I mean, I basically went toe to toe with the archangel of racism. You¡¯re a helluva boss, Nobody. Thanks for putting up with all my shit and allowing a meathead like me to be a part of something big. It means a lot,¡± Vivienne said.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have been able to do any of this without you. From the moment I first saw you, I knew you were special. Vivienne, you were always going to be great. I¡¯m just happy I could speed it up a little bit. I just wanted to make sure that you know how important you are to me and that I¡¯m happy we¡¯re friends,¡± I said honestly.

    ¡°You better stop it, or you¡¯re gonna make me cry. And if you make me cry, I¡¯m gonna hit you. Kais a gossipy little bitch, and he¡¯d tell Hotpants, and then I¡¯d never hear the end of it,¡± V said.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll stop. We¡¯ve really started something here that¡¯s going to change everything. I mean, we¡¯ve already gained a Supreme Six member as our nemesis. Not too shabby for a rookie, eh, Lavagirl?¡±

    ¡°Ugh. I hated that fucking name. Thank god it didn¡¯t catch on, or I would¡¯ve killed you,¡± she laughed.

    ¡°In that case, what about Ms. Magma?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Miss Molten?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s somehow worse,¡± she said.

    ¡°Obsidian?¡±

    ¡°Sounds stupid. I don¡¯t need a Cowl name; I never had one before.¡±

    ¡°Quinstin¡¯s different than Crimton. You¡¯re going to need an alias when we get there. We¡¯re entering the big leagues, and that means separating Vivienne Caldara, the COO of Momentus, from Vivienne the Cowl.

    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll give it some thought and come up with a name,¡± she said.

    ¡°Bedrock?¡±

    ¡°Just give it up, Nobody.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°It¡¯s done,¡± Kai said, wiping blood on his apron. ¡°I have the IP addresses and all the other stuff needed to be able to send them information. It¡¯s hard to check if it worked without testing, but I¡¯m ninety-nine percent sure it was a success. Do you need anything else?¡±

    ¡°No. You can wait outside with Vivienne. After I finish up here, you should head to Quinstin. Vivienne and I will be along shortly,¡± I said.

    I hear him walk away and stare at the two Subjects. I walk over to them, the giant job site light hitting my back and casting shadows across the room. The two of them have been through so much, and that¡¯s not even including the experiments. Zero has a portion of her hair shaved down where Kai implanted the machine and Six¡¯s hair was already buzzed. I can see the giant scars where the incisions were made. They look so peaceful lying there in the brown outfits that Kai made for them. I have to ruin these people. It¡¯s not like I haven¡¯t ruined lives before, I¡¯ve taken so many I¡¯ve lost count. But there is something different about breaking them both and molding them into something else. They look so normal, so human. But Technologica isn¡¯t human.

    I reach out and place a palm on Zero¡¯s arm. Her role will be to amass a group suited to cause massive destruction and spread fear of Neuvohumans. She won¡¯t be someone on the front lines. For that, I give her General Prior and Offset¡¯s abilities. She¡¯ll be able to grant herself and her followers a shield that can absorb one hit as well as transfer any injuries she sustains to other people. A longing for family and compulsive honesty are great pieces for a cult leader.

    The next two powers I plan to give her are two of the most dangerous ones in my entire collection. Curtis Drax¡¯s ability to create an incredibly potent and addictive drug in the bloodstream of people he touches will allow her to gather followers and make them dependent on her. Impulsiveness is a good piece for me to lose but a bad one for her to gain. The final ability she will receive is Anna Lee¡¯s. Whenever anyone thinks of harming Zero, they will experience intense emotional manipulation to render them charmed and feel affection for her. This is what will protect her from being attacked when meeting Capes and Cowls. I send the final ability to her and she starts shaking slightly. There goes my friendship with Vivienne.

    Zero¡¯s eyes slowly open. She looks at me, her head swaying and eyes blinking. The combination of abilities within her is incredibly dangerous, and that¡¯s without knowing what new abilities they will combine into. She¡¯s delirious, either due to all the Manic Panic Kai¡¯s been feeding her or the effect of the fourth power on her mind.

    ¡°Are you an angel?¡± Zero asked, reaching out to me.

    I smoothly avoid her hands. Curtis¡¯ ability is too dangerous to mess around with. Her question gives me an idea. With the light at my back and her haziness, she might genuinely believe I¡¯m from heaven. I can use this to tie her to me even more.

    ¡°How are you, my child? You¡¯ve been through so much. I¡¯m proud of your resilience,¡± I said.

    ¡°Am, am, am I dead? Is this Heaven?¡± Zero asked.

    ¡°No, it isn''t your time yet. You were once lost, my little lamb, but there are others out there who will need you to shepherd them through this dark world. The children need a mother to nurture and protect them. You¡¯ve been chosen for a great pilgrimage,¡± I said, brushing my hand down her face to make her close her eyes.

    I wait a few seconds to see if she¡¯ll wake up, but she¡¯s out cold. The powers I''ve given her are fitting for a prophet or religious leader. In a head-to-head, Zero is weak. I place my hand against the dry, leathery scales of Six. I need my own monster if I want a chance at taking Technologica down. I put my hand on his head. His role will be to attack locations that need to be destroyed and take out Capes and Cowls that cannot be dealt with otherwise. I start transferring the first ability to him. Marcus, the immortal Bruiser, is the first ability. He¡¯ll be able to get stronger, faster, more durable and have his memory and mental faculties upgraded every time he dies. A constant hunger will work for a monster.

    The second ability is Constrictor¡¯s: potent regeneration coupled with a reptilian form. Self-loathing won¡¯t matter if he can¡¯t die. Six¡¯s body shudders as it changes to the same lanky reptilian form he had with this power previously. Next, I send three at once: Big Phish¡¯s, Phantasmo¡¯s, and Carapace¡¯s powers. What I¡¯m doing is unprecedented and dangerous. He¡¯ll be able to create a dense mist that obscures vision and deafens the sounds he makes. He¡¯ll also have flight, intangibility, and can spawn those insectoid monstrosities that Isaiah described to me. The abilities don¡¯t matter as much as the physical component that will cause changes. I¡¯m getting rid of several problematic pieces as well. Bloodlust, irritability, and a sense of playfulness aren¡¯t losses. The snake-man¡¯s body begins to stretch and change rapidly, tearing his clothes to pieces. His eyes shoot open, the yellow serpentine irises becoming murky and bloodshot. His body starts to seize, and blood splurts out of his mouth.

    ¡°Can you hear me, Six?¡± I asked. ¡°Blink if you can hear me.¡±

    He blinks rapidly even as his eyes enlarge and change into black orbs the size of soccer balls. The rest of his body shakes as Six grows, becoming larger and larger until he¡¯s as big as the box truck. I push Zero¡¯s stretcher out of the way and back up as the creature continues to change. The stretcher is crushed beneath him, and he knocks the surgical tools over.

    ¡°You are one of a kind. There were so many of you but you took to the trials the best. You''re adaptive, creative, and a survivor. You¡¯ll need to become more in order to survive this tribulation. I''m sure you must be in agony, but persevere. I believe in you,¡± I shouted.

    The large black orbs are actually comprised of hundreds of smaller eyes like a fly''s. Six¡¯s head is similar in shape to a shark''s but with a longer neck, allowing it to pivot around. His mouth has several rows of sharp, curved teeth, two giant black mandibles jutting out of the sides, and a forked tongue as thick as a rope. The skin changes into overlapping chitinous plates with hexagonal scale patterns on it. As Six breathes, the pine cone plates open like gills. Next, the beast¡¯s back splits open, spiky fin-shaped spinal plates growing before the armor closes around the bleeding wounds. Rocky protrusions emerge out of his back, looking like dormant volcanoes. His lizard limbs shift and become thick, powerful legs similar to a polar bear''s.

    Five obsidian-colored claws emerge out of the limbs, each claw longer than a katana and ending in a fish hook. Two insectoid appendages the size of Contrictor¡¯s tail sprout out of its neck, its ribs, and at the base of its two tails. The tails are lengthy and muscular, like the body of a python but ending in shark fins. Smaller versions of the volcanic back clusters dot both tails. Six groans as the final aspects of his transformation takes place; every part of its body sprouts flesh ribbons as he grows one more time. These skin tendrils cover every part of his body until he looks almost like a giant, mutant, shaggy dog. The only parts left uncovered are the claws, mandibles, eyes, spikes, and insectoid limbs. The limbs fold in, hiding underneath his flesh fur. The end result is a ghostly green deep-sea wolf chimera the size of a double-decker bus. The creature looks like something scientists would discover, dwelling thousands of feet below sea level. The creature''s chest heaves as it struggles to breathe.

    ¡°Huuuuuuurts,¡± the creature said, its voice deep and guttural.

    ¡°It will pass,¡± I said.

    ¡°Make hurt stop,¡± he demanded.

    He passed the subsequent thresholds after the second power, but it clearly affected his mental state. It doesn¡¯t matter. He will die, rise, die, and rise again until his body is strong enough to support the changes. By then, his mental state should be back to human.

    ¡°Pain is how you know you''re alive. It''s good that you can feel it. Do you understand me, Six?¡±

    ¡°Siiiiiiix?¡±

    ¡°That''s who you are. Three sixes are considered the mark of the beast. You are that beast, a biblical monster here to punish and cull the populace. You don''t understand now, but you will. Hunt the strong. Feed on the weak. Perish in battle. Grow stronger with every death. Follow the cycle, Six. Hunt, feed, perish, and grow,¡± I said.

    ¡°Huuuuuuunt. Feeeeed. Perissssssh. Groooooow.¡±

    Six attempts to stand, but sways side to side before collapsing. The giant monster is silent, his chest no longer moving, and his limbs splayed out. He''s dead. The strain of all those powers broke his mind and killed him. These two aren''t like Tuesday. She''s a rabid dog I''m keeping in the house; those two are pawns created for the sole purpose of chaos and destruction. I am unleashing monsters into the world.

    Stepping outside, I leave the two of them behind. I won¡¯t be able to check on their progress until I can get set up. Kai is gone, but Vivienne is waiting for me. I look at her bright red hair, her warm smile, and her welcoming disposition. Nothing. I feel nothing when I look at her. All the progress I have made is gone. Our friendship is buried inside the woman sleeping in the warehouse. The place inside me where all the stored powers are is so much smaller now. My power sense lets me know that the two of them aren¡¯t moving and also answers a long unanswered question. I can¡¯t tell if a person I¡¯ve given powers to is dead or not.

    I look up at the sky as if I might catch a glimpse of that woman¡¯s space station. You said my accomplishments were meaningless and small. That I wasn¡¯t special or chosen, I will show you the difference between me and everyone else. I will show you how wrong you are. Technologica thinks herself above the world, the maestro whose tune we all dance to. She believes nobody can match her intellect, that nobody is her equal, and that nobody can challenge her.

    I Am Nobody.

 Character Glossary | Artwork | Update | Spoilers! | READ AUTHOR NOTE

    Parameters set......

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    Name: Eryk Blakely

    Alias: Nobody

    Alignment: Cowl

    Classification(s): Neutralizer/Manipulator

    Powers: Permanent Ability Removal/Ability Redistribution/Ability Combination

    Threat Rating: 3

    Response: Use Asset #8 to isolate the target and transport to the prepared site. Shoot once in the head, once in the chest, and burn the body.

    Synopsis: Eryk, aka Nobody, is a sadistic narcissist with egomaniacal tendencies. His only strength comes from those he works with and his ability to leverage connections and intimidations to appear more powerful than he actually is. His power is unique, but he is otherwise unremarkable and is beholden to his emotions.

    Name: Vivienne Caldara

    Alias: Vesuvius

    Alignment: Cowl

    Classification(s): Shifter-(Caster/Bruiser)

    Powers: Transformation into a 10ft tall woman made of obsidian and fire/Clothing Transformation/Linear Heat Generation with no upper limit/Long-Range Heat Beam/Superhuman Strength/Superhuman Durability

    Threat Rating: 8

    Response: A) Approach and attempt diplomacy in a public setting. Target has a soft spot for children. Use threats and follow through to leverage surrender.

    B) If combat is unavoidable, the target needs to be neutralized within twenty minutes of transforming. Use Asset #12 to counteract the target¡¯s heat and orbital bombardment to deliver packages #4 & #7.

    C) If A and B fail and transformation exceeds twenty minutes, send Assets #1-5 to execute the target.

    D) If transformation exceeds an hour, lockdown area within a five-mile radius and execute Operation Skyfall. WMD activation granted.

    Synopsis: Vivienne¡¯s linear heat generation makes her a possible extinction event. She is proficient in a multitude of fighting styles and martial arts and is capable of holding back when fighting. She is fiercely loyal to Nobody and their group. She can be outmaneuvered, and direct combat should be avoided. Possible Asset potential.

    Name: Kai Zhang

    Alias: The Doctor

    Alignment: Cowl

    Classification(s): Tinkerer/Alter

    Powers: Drone Creation/Touch-Based Object Shrinkage with no limit on size, duration, or range/Nanite Swarms

    Threat Rating: 2

    Response: Localized EMP to disable drones and other technology at the target¡¯s base. Pump sleeping gas into the building and send in a team to capture the target.

    Synopsis: The Doctor is a surgical genius, a creative scientist, and a brilliant mind. His lack of morals and love of problem-solving make him an ideal recruitment candidate. His only aspirations are knowledge and the freedom to create, which can be used to tempt him. Nanite swarms could become problematic if he discovers how to make them self-replicate. The threat level will be adjusted if The Doctor succeeds.

    Name: Isaiah Jules

    Alias: Smolder

    Alignment: Cowl

    Classification(s): Bruiser/Alter/Traveller/Manipulator

    Powers: Enhanced Strength/Enhanced Durability/Enhanced Speed/Full and partial body transformation into smoke/Flight/Can imbue objects with enhanced durability and smoke transformation/Telekinesis

    Threat Rating: 5

    Response: Ambush target and activate containment protocol Delta. Transport to the main base and then eject out the airlock.

    Synopsis: Isaiah is incredibly resourceful, tactical, and mission-oriented. He is Nobody¡¯s problem solver and will do whatever it takes to accomplish his goals. A jack of all trades who can infiltrate and escape from anywhere. A charismatic killer with a near-fanatical loyalty to Nobody. He cannot be turned and must be executed.

    Name: Cassandra Leighton

    Alias: Rorschach

    Alignment: Cowl

    Classification(s): Ruler/Mentalist

    Powers: Creation of Ink Creatures/Enhanced Cognitive Processing

    Threat Rating: 2

    Response: Target cannot be snuck up on; assume all communications are being monitored once the mission begins. The created creatures are composed of ink and are fatally weak to water. To ensure she cannot escape, utilize high-pressure hoses or coordinate with local fire departments. She is not a fighter, and her creatures are only as endless as her ink supplies. After that, the target can be handled in a way similar to unpowered individuals.

    Synopsis: Rorschach is an incredibly capable reconnaissance and information-gathering specialist. She is Nobody¡¯s eyes, ears, and bloodhound. Her crass attitude hides an incredibly sharp mind. Her background check revealed she comes from an upper-class affluent family located in New York. She has an exploitable love of money and could possibly be bought out or hired for one-off missions. By that same token, her loyalty is practically nonexistent and, therefore, would not make for a good Asset.

    Name: Tuesday

    Alias: Rat Fairy

    Alignment: Cowl

    Classification(s): Manipulator/Mentalist/Neutralizer

    Powers: Sensory Control/Sensory Override/Auditory Hallucinations/Verbal Hallucinations/Visual Hallucinations/Olfactory Hallucinations/Conditional Invisibility/Conditional Silence/Advanced Infiltration and Disguising/Vocal Mimicry/Psychosomatic Attacks

    Threat Rating: 5

    Response: Utilize inorganic Assets or drones; any organics sent will be susceptible to her powers. The mission start must be at midday with clear skies. Lock down a city block and evacuate all civilians. Any drones sent must only have visuals; any auditory will allow her power to work. Slowly surround the target and make sure all exits and entrances are being watched. Station marksman at least a mile away with instructions to shoot to kill. Confirm the body with drones before allowing anyone near the site.

    Synopsis: Tuesday¡¯s real identity could not be verified or found. Her demeanor, skills, and lack of any background point toward her being a Carnival survivor. She is highly athletic, acrobatic, and skilled in throwing knives and hand-to-hand combat. She is a sadomasochistic psychopath prone to violence, mayhem, destruction, and perverse torturing. She delights in inflicting harm on others and seems to be motivated only by what interests her at the moment. She is the fox in the henhouse, and you cannot reason with predators.

    Name: Aubrey Iskan

    Alias: Stinger

    Alignment: Cape

    Classification(s): Tinkerer

    Powers: Helmet Creation

    Threat Rating: 2

    Response: Use EMP grenades to disable the target¡¯s helmet, and immediate capture will follow.

    Synopsis: Aubrey is an unremarkable Tinkerer and a middling Cape. She is not a natural Neuvohuman, instead owing her powers to Nobody. She is unstable with a very harsh view of right and wrong. She isn¡¯t creative or smart enough to be an Asset.

    Name: Violet Graves

    Alias: Virtue

    Alignment: Cape

    Classification(s): Caster/Bruiser/Traveller/Mentalist

    Powers: Heat Vision/Super Strength/Super Speed/Super Durability/Flight/Accelerated Thinking/Memory Retention

    Threat Rating: 8

    Response: Target is capable of annihilating Bruisers with ease, so direct combat is unrecommended. Target is too mobile to be locked down or trapped. If the fight takes place in a populated area, give up on reducing collateral damage or casualties. Use swarm tactics using Assets #11 & #18 to harass with minions and tire her out. Use an airborne delivery system to drop neurotoxin bombs and then a thermobaric payload.

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    Synopsis: Virtue is a legacy cape from both parents and is, therefore, more dangerous than the two of them combined. She has a strong sense of justice and a desire to help and save others. Genetics, hard work, and talent make her an exceptional Cape, but there is no chance of her becoming an Asset. She will rise quickly within the Heroes¡¯ Union.

    Name: Avery Mills

    Alias: Phoenix

    Alignment: Cape

    Classification(s): Caster/Manipulator/Traveller

    Powers: Corpse Possession/Radiation Flame Creation/Radiation Flame Manipulation/Flight/Radiation Blasts/Immortality/Fire Immunity/Heat Immunity/Radiation Immunity/Body Reinforcement/Enhanced Durability

    Threat Rating: 6

    Response: The target¡¯s power reinforces their body and makes most forms of bullets/artillery useless. Their white flames are actually a form of radioactive energy and must be treated as such. Use of the target''s power is destructive to their body, and the more power they use, the faster it will be destroyed. Deploy Asset # 43 to absorb energy along with groups of Travellers & Casters to harass from afar and Bruisers to help protect Casters & Travellers. Bruisers should be rotated out every fifteen minutes to limit radiation exposure. If casualties are sustained, you must remove the body from the area or completely destroy the remains. Target can body-hop to nearby corpses as long as a piece of the current host corpse remains.

    Synopsis: Phoenix is a very old Cape; in fact, their age is unknown, and it''s unclear whether the name they use is real. They have retired from active Heroes¡¯ Union duties and instead focus on training potential new members. They have a lifetime of experience and dedicated Cape work. If their power can be augmented or visually changed, they would make a great Asset. Phoenix remains one of the few powers that are universally effective on all other Neuvohumans.

    Name: Douglas Appur

    Alias: Adversary

    Alignment: Cape

    Classification(s): Bruiser/Alter/Mentalist

    Powers: Danger Sense/Threat Assessment/Adaptive Strength/Adaptive Durability

    Threat Rating: 1~7

    Response: Target is not to be engaged by Neuvohumans. Station a single long-distance sniper as far away from the target as feasible and aim at center mass.

    Synopsis: Adversary''s strength lies in his ability to scale to his opponent(s). Given a few more years to grow, he can become a counter to some of the world''s greatest threats. Whether it''s Rulers with armies of minions or heavy hitters like Onslaught, he has the capability to defeat them single-handedly. Mr. Appur will do his best work as a Cape and wouldn''t fit as an Asset or a member of the BNA.

    Name: Sydney Dwyer

    Alias: Zephyr

    Alignment: Cape

    Classification(s): Manipulator/Traveller

    Powers: Flight/Wind Manipulation/Weather Control/Long-Range Communications

    Threat Rating: 6

    Response: Zephyr¡¯s ability places her as the eye of her storm, so close-quarters combat is needed. The eye of her storm is a ten-foot radius around her. She frequently surrounds herself in a wind bubble or a tornado. If you cannot approach, use flash fire grenades to ignite her bubble/tornado and cook her with her own power. She will have to choose between maintaining her defense or fighting up close. Capture or elimination will be swift shortly after.

    Synopsis: If Zephyr can shore up her CQC weakness, she will be a force to be reckoned with. If she cannot, she will be dead within five years. Her power is too flashy for her to become an Asset, but she will no doubt rise through the ranks of the Heroes'' Union.

    Name: Raphael Mendez

    Alias: Ward

    Alignment: Cape

    Classification(s): Manipulator

    Powers: Impenetrable Shields/Barrier Creation/Perfect Defense

    Threat Rating: 2

    Response: Ambush the target at his residence using Asset #8 and transport him to a secure cell.

    Synopsis: Ward is a utility Cape and works well in a team but is nearly useless in combat. Active Cape duty will likely end in his death. He would be better suited as part of the containment protocols at either the Dollhouse, The Island, or the Labyrinth. Ward will fail to become a full-fledged member of the Heroes¡¯ Union, and then either the BNA will recruit him, or he can be made into an Asset.

    Name: Andrew Waters

    Alias: Special Agent (Asset #8)

    Alignment: BNA (Technologica)

    Classification(s): Traveller/Mentalist

    Powers: Long-Distance Transportation/Material Phasing/Flight/Perfect Geographic Coordinate Knowledge/Super Speed

    Threat Rating: 3

    Response: Recall the target back to base and use a scentless aerosolized nerve toxin to paralyze them. Lethal injection once captured.

    Synopsis: Special Agent Waters, aka Asset #8, is a true believer in the mission and understands what is at stake. He is willing to give anything for the cause and to ensure humanity¡¯s survival.

    <hr>

    Technologica: Leader of the Supreme Six and a founder of the Heroes¡¯ Union.

    Daniel Blakely: Eryk¡¯s father. A widower trying his best to love a son whose face only reminds him of his dead wife.

    Maria Estella: Eryk¡¯s ex-girlfriend, whom he murdered after she kidnapped a random stranger as an offering to her boyfriend, whom she believed was a serial killer.

    Davis Allen: Victim of vicious bullying at school and abuse by his father. Tinkerer with a helmet specialty. He caused the trigger event that gave Eryk his powers.

    Jean-Luc Dupont: Friend of Eryk and Aubrey whose family moved to America when he was young after the Cowl Noxus made Paris uninhabitable.

    Lee Daeshim: The Lightning Dragon of the Docks, a Korean gang leader that Vivienne defeated who wields lightning. Eryk stole his power and killed him.

    Dynax: Korean muscle who works for Lee Daeshim. Eryk stole his power and killed him.

    Veritas: Was a member of the group Rorschach and Isaiah belonged tp. She had the ability to raise the body temperature of those who lie to her. Killed by Isaiah.

    Erisate: A Manipulator who could telekinetically control objects she attuned herself to. Part of the group Rorschach and Isaiah belonged to. Killed by Isaiah.

    Rushdown: A Traveller who belonged to the group Isaiah and Rorschach belonged to. Killed by Isaiah.

    Murmur: A Manipulator who belonged to the group Isaiah and Rorschach belonged to. She was also Rorschach¡¯s best friend. Eryk stole her power and then murdered her.

    Santiago Skull: Small-time gang leader of the Pandilla de los Muertos and drug dealer with skull tattoos and facial implants. He told Rorschach¡¯s group that Nobody had killed Murmur. Killed by Rorschach when she made her ink python force itself into his stomach.

    Casper/Goblin: New leaders of the Pandilla de los Muertos gang and Vivienne¡¯s minions. Casper is a pale girl, and Goblin is an ugly, short man.

    Nicholas Holmes: Contract lawyer who is responsible for getting Momentus INC officially licensed and filed as a business. He is an unwilling participant in Nobody¡¯s plans, but he is too terrified to ever rebel.

    The Slabman: A Cowl Shifter who was released from the Omegamax BNA prison The Island. After running into Nobody and Isaiah, he was captured and sent back.

    Oxxi: Asian Cowl with the right side of her body covered in tattoos of waves and the ocean. She wields a seven-foot claymore and seems to be able to teleport.

    Amethyst: Lilac-skinned Cowl woman with bright blue eyes and hair. She uses dense purple energy to craft constructs, shields, and clothes. She can fire lasers, empower her physical attacks, and fly using the purple energy.

    Subject Zero: One of two subjects that survived Eryk and Kai¡¯s tests. She was capable of having four abilities, but it has severely affected her mental state. She can create shields on herself and other people she touches that can absorb any one attack before shattering. She can also transfer any injury she sustains to other people, create an incredibly potent and addictive drug in the bloodstream of people she touches, and make others experience intense emotional manipulation that renders them charmed and makes them feel affection for her.

    Subject Six: One of two subjects that survived Eryk and Kai¡¯s tests. He was capable of having three abilities, but through clever use of a revival power, Nobody was able to give him five abilities forcibly. Four of the abilities came with hideous, monstrous forms that combined to create a ghostly green deep-sea wolf chimera the size of a double-decker bus. His powers are a revival ability that makes him slightly stronger, faster, and more durable and improves his mental faculties, including his memory, every time he dies. He has potent regeneration, can create a dense mist that obscures others'' vision and deafens all sounds he makes, can fly, turn intangible, and spawn insectoid minions.

    Titania: The leader of one of the Quinstin Heroes¡¯ Union branch teams. Considered by many to be the strongest Neuvohuman in Quinstin. Her power turned her into metal, and she has magnetic powers. Her team consists of Havok, Legend, Veer, and Vibrance.

    Apollo: Leader of the Olympians, a Cowl group located in Quinstin. He believes in Neuvohuman supremacy and that humans should worship them.

 Volume Two Release Announcement [Title/Cover Reveal]

    First of all, thank all of you for the comments, follows, favorites, messages, and reviews. (P.S. If you haven''t rated the story, consider leaving a rating.) The story broke 100 followers and 40k views a while ago, which is legitimately crazy. I think I was hovering around 70 followers and 20k views when I released Chapter 58. I''ve been steadily writing since the end of Volume One and have about a month and a half of chapters written.

    Now, for the reason all of you clicked on this. Volume Two will begin releasing on April 7th. It will be releasing on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and then a chapter on either Saturday or Sunday. The week chapters will be following the main storyline and characters you know. The weekend chapters will be interludes following characters that aren''t part of the main cast. I''ll be using those to allow me to explore parts of the world that Nobody will never see, as well as to follow characters that maybe we have met before. In regard to a few people asking, I have set up a Patreon that will launch on the 7th alongside RR. If you want to read ahead/ support the story, you can check it out. It''ll have advance chapters, all of the concept art for every piece of artwork, exclusive polls for Interludes and Art.

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    NOTE: I WILL NEVER GATEKEEP CHAPTERS. YOU WILL NEVER MISS OUT ON A SINGLE CHAPTER OR INTERLUDE.

    Here is the cover and title for Volume Two: