by Drew Hayes
“So far, no one seems to have noticed me,” Cliché replied. “I don’t mind keeping guard. It’s better than watching that video stream.”
“Why, what’s going on with the video?” Had Ivan already lost control and gone on a rampage? That would be a surprise, but if he was wearing that mask again, then there was no telling what was on the table. Hephaestus was prepared for anything.
“It’s Fornax. He’s... he’s losing. And it looks like it’s starting to hurt.”
Halted dead in her tracks by the cold chill of shock, Hephaestus realized she wasn’t as “prepared for anything” as she’d thought.
Chapter 107
Zerle Salvrin delivered a blow to Ivan’s stomach, slipping through his guard with those twisting movements and hurling him back against the far wall. Most metals would have dented, or at least shown a scratch after so much damage, yet their chamber remained intact no matter how many times Ivan was roughly slammed into the material.
Thus far in the fight, Ivan had learned quite a bit about Zerle Salvrin’s combat abilities. The alien had prodigious strength, exceptional reflexes, an outstanding capacity to read an opponent, and one could only presume durability on par with the rest of his abilities. The reason Ivan had to make guesses on the hardiness of his opponent was that he’d yet to land a substantial blow.
Punch after punch, he would try to dodge, block, or otherwise counter, only to be slammed from some unexpected angle, clobbered across the room until he scrambled up and the whole dance began once more. There were times Zerle Salvrin could have pushed the attack but chose not to. Perhaps he was being cautious, making sure that Ivan didn’t have some hidden tricks up his sleeve. Or, as one who’d clearly reached a level of strength which surpassed that of his peers, maybe Zerle Salvrin was merely savoring the chance to let loose against a sturdy opponent. It was a sentiment Ivan understood perfectly.
“What a disappointment.” Zerle Salvrin’s words were still coming out translated—whether for Ivan or the audience watching at home was anyone’s guess. “The rumors of Earth’s strength had me intrigued. There are whispers about this section of the galaxy, tales of exploratory forces that vanished entirely. Yet when we arrive, what do we find? An overconfident champion and a pitiful substitute.”
The laugh that rose from his throat was not Ivan’s. It was too expressive, too mad, and much too joyous. A small drop of blood slipped from the corner of his mouth, one of the small wounds this battle had already imparted. Ivan caught it with his tongue, running the red along the stretch of his teeth. It was a very familiar flavor, one that called up parts of him he’d spent decades trying to bury. He held it back, not denying what welled up within, merely halting it for the moment. This wasn’t yet the time.
“You laugh?” Zerle Salvrin was confused, though it was unclear if he was wondering why Ivan was laughing, or if he was checking to see that that’s what the sound was.
“I do. I laugh at you, Zerle Salvrin. I laugh at your idiocy, your ignorance, and your pride. I laugh because you still have no idea where this is going. And I laugh at your pitiful idea of strength. You cannot fathom the power we’ve all been struggling against, nor how we’ve grown as a result.”
No more talking: the banter earned Ivan a fresh round of punches, this time catching him directly in the ear. He spun across the room, slapping the wall once more and sliding down. Laying there, he took a brief moment to catch his breath, eyes scanning the ceiling screen to check on Lodestar’s progress. She was getting close, tearing through space at speeds no rocket could hope to match. Still going to be a while, knowing her. Even against something like that, Lodestar would try to talk. To reason. To find a way forward that didn’t require violence. It was a habit that was easy to dismiss or mock, and there had been no shortage of capes or villains who’d done both through the years.
But silly an idea as it seemed, Ivan could never say that it was pointless. Because every now and then, she was right. There was a solution other than punching, a compromise to find where everyone could be satisfied. A spark of goodness in a criminal the world was willing to write off. She had her way, and Ivan could endure until the time was right.
For the show they had planned, they required a perfectly set stage. Until then, Ivan would have to deal with the beating and wait for his cue.
The alert in Tachyonic’s ear came just as he finished yanking the weapons from a pair of Wrexwren clutches. Powerful as their tech was, once it was stripped away, they were only marginally stronger than regular humans, which was nowhere near powerful enough to hang with the New Science Sentries.
Agent Quantum brought down the first Wrexwren with a pair of punches, while the other tried to flee. A searing beam of energy caused the alien to skid to a halt, moments before Agent Quantum appeared overhead, dropping heavily down and subduing his second target.
Presto popped into view nearby; now that the threats were handled, he didn’t have to manipulate from behind the scenes. “Okay, I tried again and felt like I was going to burst a blood vessel. These things are either way denser than they look or have some natural resistance to teleportation. I’d wipe myself out just shifting one, forget about popping them around.”
Half-ignoring Presto, Tachyonic listened carefully to the message relay. It wasn’t an official dispatch, technically speaking. But he’d put in a request to be notified if there was significant activity in a certain area of Ridge City. Based on the timestamp at the end, sending it over hadn’t been high priority.
“Sentries, it sounds like something might be going down back at our off-site base. There was a report of a large crowd gathering, and a team was sent out to check on it. Nothing reported back yet.”
“Which could mean they’re busy dealing with the threat,” Plasmodia suggested.
“Or that they were wiped out in an instant,” Presto countered.
Agent Quantum looked over his team, first at the pair debating, then at Tachyonic himself. His gaze lingered there, briefly, before giving his oldest friend a knowing nod. “Regardless, we have a responsibility in that building, civilians we gave our word to protect. Our track record on that front has been frankly terrible. Seems like we’ve finally got a chance to do this right, so let’s make sure we use it well.”
“I’ll scout. You relay our position shift and catch up.” Tachyonic was gone so fast he imagined himself getting ahead of his own words, though that was impossible at his system’s current settings. Nevertheless, he blasted through the increasingly familiar streets of Ridge City, along the nearly vacant highway, past the buildings of people hunkered down, until he neared the downtown section stuffed with residences, including one old apartment building that now hosted a giant hole in the third floor.
Skidding to a halt, Tachyonic resisted the urge to go in swinging, especially once he caught sight of the crowd that awaited. Dozens of people, none of whom looked friendly, wielding the same cobbled-together tech they’d been picking off the street for weeks. Except, this was no selection of minor wares; every person out there was geared up with at least one device. Some had multiple. That was without counting the ones showing clear meta-powers, like the woman hovering, or the guy talking to four frogs the size of hubcaps.
“Team, we’ve got more than just a group out here. Looks like someone assembled and outfitted a small army—none of them alien, at least visually.” Tachyonic’s speedy brain zipped through the possibilities. This organized and malicious group made it seem like something that villain’s guild would be a good fit for, except he didn’t recognize any of the milling faces. Based on the Ridge City Riots footage, most of the guild members had existing famous careers or were fairly distinctive, none of which applied to this rabble. It could be a meta-gang out to grab territory in the chaos, but this was a strange place to try to claim, especially considering the AHC headquarters wasn’t too far off. It didn’t track. There was nothing about this place valuable enough to warrant such force, which meant it was more likely about one of the bui
lding’s tenants.
The most probable explanation was that they were here for the New Science Sentries. If their identities had leaked and someone figured out their address, that might explain the attack force. Only... much as Tachyonic hated to admit it, they hadn’t really done anything to warrant this yet. Since arriving, the vast bulk of their time had been spent dealing with low-tier muggers and goons, not the kind of people who could access armies for vengeance. There was also the chance the crowd was here for Tori, if they were connected to the other gang and had decided to hold her responsible for the slaughter, since Nexus was well out of reach.
Over the communicators, he heard an unexpected, familiar voice pipe up. “Tachyonic, did you come into range?”
AHC communicators functioned on multiple levels, and while dedicated channels to the home base and one’s team were always useful, there was also value in a simple proximity system, making sure they knew when they had allies in the area.
“Cyber Geek, is that you? What’s your location?”
“Currently inside, hunkered down and figuring out what to do next. They’ve been like this for the last few minutes, penning us in but not advancing.”
Tachyonic peeked around a corner, able to carefully scan the surroundings in a fraction of the time most would need. “It’s weird. They’re all staying ready to react, but there’s no movement toward the front. Any idea who these jerks are? My best guesses were a gang out for revenge or part of that villain guild.”
“The first is possible. The second one is probably out, though,” Cyber Geek replied.
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because we’ve got two of that guild’s members here with us, and they’re both pissed about the situation.”
That lined up with what little they knew about the guild—one feature of which was that very lack of information. If the guild did deal with internal issues, they certainly weren’t public about it; this was exactly the kind of situation that drew AHC’s attention. The fact that Cyber Geek was stuck with a pair of villains didn’t sit well with Tachyonic, however. It was possible they were there as moles, or even the ones who’d put all of this together in the first place. He’d have liked to simply trust Cyber Geek’s judgment, but with civilians in the building too, it was best to avoid chances as much as possible.
“Which two members do you have, exactly? Knowing what they can do gives us more options. I can do some quick research while the others are on their way.”
“I don’t imagine that will be necessary. Your team is already familiar with the skills of Hephaestus and Bahamut.”
Of course—of fucking course—it would be them. Taking a moment to steady himself, Tachyonic reasoned that there were two versions of this scenario: either the villains were truly with them, or part of the attack. While the latter would be highly problematic, the flipside was that he knew those two were capable: smart, tough, and motivated to survive. If the pair really were with them for this fight, it added more to their desperately mismatched team sizes. Ten versus a small army wasn’t a lot better than eight, but it was an improvement.
“Any sign of our mutual friends?”
“There’s some sort of blockade between us and their room, with a few people already skewered on it. We assumed you’d put some defenses in. I’ve texted her a few times since we arrived. Seems like she and the others are sheltering in place. I warned her to keep everyone indoors and away from the windows until we give the all-clear.”
A text wasn’t as good as eyes-on, but in the current situation, it still took a huge burden from Tachyonic’s mind. His charge was out of harm’s way, which meant they’d be able to take a more offensive approach to handling the issue. Once his team arrived, they could figure out a plan of attack. Because, with so many civilians in the area, evacuation was out. Even if they could get to just Tori and her friends, there were too many others to reach. Protecting this area meant driving out the threat, and based on how armed they were, he had a hunch this crowd wouldn’t respond to politely spoken requests.
“Good thinking, Cyber Geek. Let’s keep them out of this as much as possible. Now, we’ve got about five minutes before the rest of my team will be able to catch up. That’s how long we have to come up with what to do next.”
It was strange, watching what looked like a parade-viewing crowd gather up on the streets below, all with their attention on her building. Cliché peered carefully over the sides of the roof in short stints, making sure not to draw their attention. Her umbrella was clutched carefully in her left hand, ready to defend if the moment demanded. The right hand, she’d left unencumbered, which was why the sudden appearance of a revolver in her fingers was such a surprise.
Spinning around, she trained the weapon on her target, only for the barrel to start immediately shaking. What the hell good was a gun supposed to do against him?
The kaleidoscope eyes of Nexus stared back at her as he cocked his head in an almost curious manner. After a moment, he snapped his fingers.
“Forewarned is forearmed. When a potential threat approached, you got a weapon. Very clever, haven’t seen one of you use that in ages.” He paid her and the weapon no mind, waltzing to the rooftop’s edge, peering over with none of the same caution Cliché had been employing. “Shoot if you like, but I’m not here for you. You’re almost never worth it.”
The whiplash of going from shocked to terrified, relieved to slightly offended, had Cliché’s head swimming. Lowering her gun, she dropped it to the rooftop, where it soon vanished. The umbrella, conversely, she gripped tightly, ready to swing at a moment’s notice. It would likely fare as well as the gun, but it at least had a chance of working.
“What do you mean, I’m not worth it?”
He waved a hand in her general direction, eyes still on the crowd below. “What’s the point in a power you go out of your way not to master? Where’s the thrill in seeing someone give half their effort? Entertaining as you could potentially be, I’ve seen that possibility squandered untold times, because you fear what you might become.”
Stepping slightly forward, Cliché tried to angle herself so she could keep a lookout over the roof’s edge, too; if she wasn’t keeping watch, there was no point to even staying up here. “Let me guess, this is where you tell me all my fears are ridiculous and ungrounded?”
“Certainly not. You are perceptive, with yourself, as well as others, and the potential you see is far from imagined. There are worlds where you embrace your power, plumb its fullest depths, and truly master the gifts you have been given. In some of those iterations you even manage to retain what you think of as your current sense of self. But the best of the lot, the ones I consider personal favorites, are exactly what you fear: beings cut off from the laws of reality, unbound by the same limits as the rest of the world. Sometimes, Cliché, you become an even greater monster than you can imagine, and she is glorious. You may be of little interest, but Edict is always worth watching.”
Chapter 108
At long last, she was near enough to see, and Lodestar’s stomach twisted at what awaited her. Up close—or at least as close as she could get without losing sight of the massive creature—the Scralthor was a mind-twisting array of features. The dark exterior captured and reflected the void of space, masking it near perfectly, even from the AHC’s advanced instruments. Long limbs, like a mix of a spider’s leg, an octopus tentacle, and a sucker mouth, stretched off the vast main body. No eyes that she could see, though it did have various plates with a slightly different reflective sheen.
The most distinguishing, disgusting feature was easily its true mouth, not the sucker-like endings on its limbs. It was easy to miss on the approach, a void within a void, the place where the Scralthor stopped reflecting space and instead embodied it. Cavernous, surrounded by endless rows of grasping teeth, seemingly with no end, that was the maw Lodestar would expect from a creature that lived by surviving off of suns. Hanging there, staring at what was closer to a celestial body than a c
reature in terms of mass, Lodestar was momentarily struck by the sheer impossibility of her task.
It was ludicrous—to even compare their differences as an ant versus a human drastically undersold the gap in scale. Ant versus blue whale wouldn’t have even properly captured it. This was no person, or meta, or even something as grand as a natural disaster. She was gazing upon a fundamental force of the galaxy, something powerful and ancient, well beyond the constraints of what a single planet could contain.
Cupping her hands to her mouth, Lodestar let out a loud yell. She was perfectly aware that sound didn’t travel through the vacuum of space under normal circumstances, but this was one more area where the limits of reality had become iffy after Professor Quantum’s famous experiment. Besides, the idea of standing in this creature’s path was absolute lunacy to begin with. Attempting to start a conversation wasn’t really all that much more ridiculous, comparatively.
“Hey there!” Decades of this, and she never felt like she’d gotten the hang of starting the awkward pre-fight discussions. It was hard to find a cordial greeting for a being one was likely about to exchange blows with, yet she still persisted, because sometimes, those greetings were enough to keep the punches from being needed. “I don’t suppose you’re a talker?”
No reaction, which was more or less what Lodestar had expected. Even the ones who did eventually listen needed their attention grabbed first, and there was really only one universal method to that end. Keeping the power low, just enough to be felt, Lodestar fired off three shots at one of the limbs, which was wiggling through the sky in a very gut-churning fashion. Her shots hit their mark, but produced no reaction that she could see. Even the limb itself was unmarked. The blasts may as well have been more awkward small talk.
