by Matt Carter
The room was a mess, we’d all nearly died, but Carnivore was still alive, his body nearly perfectly fixed up by Spasm.
“All right,” Trojan Fox said. “One down, six to go. Who’s next?”
#Supervillainy101: The Shot Heard ’Round the World
It didn’t surprise anyone that Otis Shylock was the last of the major supervillains standing in 1993, though it did surprise many to see just how far he’d fallen. Once one of the leaders of the Villain’s Union, commanding an army of nearly two thousand supervillains bent on controlling all criminal activity on Earth, by 1993 the heavy losses faced during the War on Villainy left him with less than thirty villains and a small mountain stronghold in Chile to his name.
Seeking to end the War once and for all, the heroes all banded together for one last assault on Shylock’s forces on May 29, 1993. He vowed not to go down without a fight.
Though in his late seventies and not at the peak of his mind control powers, he and his diminishing army of loyalists fought off wave after wave of hero assault, killing and maiming dozens of the best heroes of the day. Still, with thousands of heroes against a handful of villains, the losses on Shylock’s side grew heavy. The heroes soon realized that they just needed to wait him out, surrounding the mountain and blaring out psych warfare mixed with messages encouraging the villains to quit over loudspeakers 24/7.
The details of what happened inside are sketchy, at best. What is known is that Shylock demanded that everyone fight to the last man, to make the heroes’ victory as hollow as possible. Not all the villains agreed, and a faction emerged intent on overthrowing Shylock and surrendering in exchange for leniency. A fight broke out, several villains were killed, and Otis Shylock took a single gunshot to the head.
The rebel villains left the mountain, surrendering themselves to the heroes in the hopes of getting a decent deal.
They were all rounded up and immediately sent to the Tower.
Moments later, the Protectors spoke to the media and declared that the War on Villainy had finally been won.
#LessonLearned: Everything ends.
23
TRYING SOMETHING NEW
Before we did anything else, we voted on what the hell we were going to do with Carnivore.
Trojan Fox and I wanted him dead.
Ghost Girl and Geode thought that, though he was an asshole and a murderer and probably a spy, here he was as much a victim as the rest of us and should live.
Spasm and Nevermore were pretty ambivalent to the whole thing, but Geode laid on the charm pretty thick and got them into the “letting him live” camp.
Fine. So he’d live. But at least we’d get some use out of him first.
The Tri-Hole generator the heroes provided was crude. The hole was smaller, sparked more, and looked pretty unsafe.
Geode dragged Carnivore, hands and feet tied behind his back, a burlap sack over his head and a GPS unit duct-taped to his chest, into the room. Though tied tight, he still thrashed and hollered.
“YOU CAN’T DO THIS! YOU CAN’T! I’LL KILL YOU! I WILL FIND YOU AND I WILL KILL YOU ALL!” he yelled, trying to fight free. “YOU CAN’T—”
“We just did,” Trojan Fox said, nodding at Geode.
He threw Carnivore through the Tri-Hole, while Trojan Fox checked a holographic display on one of her gauntlets.
“Did he make it?” I asked.
“Ten kilometers outside of Omsk, Siberia. Vitals are stable. He may be a bit singed, but he’s alive,” she said, her lips curling into a smile just before she lowered her helmet’s mask. “Let’s see what he thinks of commie cheese now.”
Anyone who cared about Carnivore would have probably had some sensible questions.
Even if he makes it to civilization and lives, won’t he probably wind up in some gulag?
This is the middle of winter and I think he’s coldblooded—won’t he freeze to death?
Thankfully, none of us gave enough of a damn about him to have sensible questions.
We had a war to prevent.
We finished pulling on our costumes while watching the Green Room’s TV. The president’s speech had already begun. There weren’t any heroes present, but there were plenty of Secret Service and DSA agents on hand. It wouldn’t be easy, but we could manage them.
“Recalibrating the Tri-Hole for DC,” Trojan Fox said. “We’re going to have to go through fast; they’ll be on us the second we step through. We won’t have long before some group of heroes is on us, but we should have long enough to do what we have to.”
She closed the mask on her Trojan Fox suit and held out a hand. “Should anything happen to me, I just want to say that it’s been my greatest pleasure working with all of you.”
Geode put his crystalline hand on top of hers. “The pleasure has been ours.”
Nevermore shrugged, putting her hand on his. “It’s been a lot of fun. I can say that much.”
Ghost Girl joined silently, while Spasm just shrugged and put his hand on the pile and said, “Well, I haven’t done the shit you’ve done, but what the hell.”
“Well, are you gonna join us or are you just gonna stand there?” Trojan Fox said, looking to me.
“I’m just gonna stand here,” I said. Their eyes glared at me with sharp edges. “What? This is one of those rituals you do when you think you’re going to die, and I don’t want to die.”
“If not for you, then do it for the fucking team, all right?” Trojan Fox demanded, training a laser sight on my chest.
“Fine,” I grumbled, putting my hand in the pile. “Long live the New Offenders?”
“I’ve heard worse toasts,” Trojan Fox said. “Now, come on guys, let’s kick some superhero ass!”
Normally you’re supposed to only go through Tri-Holes alone or in pairs. I don’t know if six people ever went through all at once, let alone through the cheap version they got us here, but we did it. The trip was faster and rockier than the regular Tri-Holes we’d taken, and I could’ve sworn my suit was beginning to smoke.
We made it through in a heap, but we made it through, and even managed to get ourselves in action poses before anyone started to scream.
It was a nice day out, cold and brisk with blue skies and a light dusting of snow on the grass. There were simple and elegant Christmas decorations around the edge of the garden, boring, but colorful enough. Dozens of reporters and camera crews occupied the rows of seats that had been set up for the speech, while the president herself stood at the podium, staring at us in shock.
Truthfully, I was kind of in awe to be standing this close to the White House.
It was hard to stay in awe, however, when a bunch of Secret Service and DSA agents opened fire on you.
Some reporters started screaming. Most of them tried to get pictures or good video.
“Take ’em down!” Trojan Fox yelled, taking off and blasting their guns with her lasers and energy pulses, and taking more of them down with her tranquilizer darts. Nevermore unleashed her tattoos and Geode jumped in, taking them on by force.
That left Spasm, Ghost Girl, and me to get to the president.
Piece of cake.
A voice in my radio. Adam. He was confused, yelling.
“—not time yet, and we can’t read—”
I cut him off, “Sorry we jumped the gun, we got a little overenthusiastic. Just keep the Tri-Holes down and your eyes on the screen; we think you’re gonna like this!”
“Cool, just wanted to make sure!” he said. “See you soon!”
Probably sooner than you’d like.
Nearly twenty agents surrounded the president, trying to cart her off. A dozen more stood between us, opening fire with conventional and Atlantean screamer weapons they shouldn’t have had.
Cheaters.
I threw up a wall of focus between us and them, taking most of the abuse. His eyes intent and bloodshot, Spasm waved at the crowd of agents between us and the president. Most of them fell to the ground unconscious, while some, the strong
er ones I guess, were taken to their knees grabbing their heads and screaming. Ghost Girl easily took them out with her staff. We approached the president at the podium. She stood still, defiant. There may have been a tremble, but she stared us down.
“Kill me if you want, but the Protectors will be here in five minutes and the military in seven. Whatever you do today, you cannot expect to get away with this.”
I took a step forward, and a slight look of fear crossed her face.
“Madame President… we’re not here to kill you. Hell, my parents voted for you, and though you’re a little too blue state for my taste, you seem like a pretty cool chick.”
Of all the things I could’ve said, I don’t think she expected that (let alone to be called a “chick”).
“Believe it or not, right now, we’re the good guys,” Ghost Girl chimed in.
“Kinda,” I amended. “This microphone still working?”
The president nodded, warily. I strode to the podium and looked out at the field of reporters. Geode, Trojan Fox, and Nevermore had taken out the rest of the Secret Service and came onstage to join us. The reporters stared with a look of fear and awe, but none of them made a run, all holding their microphones and cameras and phones at the ready.
Perfect.
I tapped the mike. “This is on? Yes? Good.”
I looked to Trojan Fox. By rights, this should have been her speech, being that she was the leader and all, but the public didn’t know that yet. This would have to be my show for just a little longer.
“Madame President, ladies and gentlemen of the press, and everyone watching around the world, my name is Apex Strike. I am of the New Offenders, and I am a supervillain,” I said proudly.
Adam’s voice in my ear, “Aidan, what the fu—”
“Trojan Fox, cut our radios.”
“Done.”
I spoke to the crowd again. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, and maybe being a supervillain was one of them. But today, I, no, we are here to fix some of those mistakes. I can’t save Icicle Man, or the lives lost in Amber City, or anyone else that we’ve hurt. But I can save the president.”
They looked at us, dumbfounded, raising hands and calling out questions.
“Make this fast,” Trojan Fox said. “My sensors on the Tri-Hole network are picking up faint signals.”
I continued, “I can save her, because I was sent to kill her.”
This got a pretty good reaction from the audience.
“I was sent to kill her by members of the Protectors looking to jumpstart a Second War on Villainy and increase their stranglehold on mankind. Trojan Fox, show ’em what you got.”
She pressed a button on one of her gauntlets, and simultaneously all of the phones and tablets of the reporters began making noises.
“What you’re receiving now are detailed files we have collected linking a number of superheroes to a conspiracy to create the New Offenders, orchestrating crimes to increase their own fortunes and protect their images including, but not limited to: extortion, robbery, terrorism, and murder. In addition to you, we have sent them directly to all of your papers and networks. We know that some of them favor the heroes, but not all, and even if they do you’ll probably want to report on this because, well, today’s going to be a pretty big news day.”
“We’ve got incoming,” Ghost Girl said, her eyes flashing.
“How soon?”
“Put a bubble around us now, soon.”
Even though I didn’t have that much experience with shield bubbles, I did what she said. I’d found it best not to ignore Ghost Girl.
There was a sound of something heavy and wet smashing violently into the side of the shield as blood sprayed across it, streaking over the bubble and slamming into one of the White House’s pillars with a bright-red, wet explosion of gore. Even through all the mess I could see the tattered black fabric and the glimmering rings of half a dozen shattered halos mixed in with the mess.
Black Blur… or what’s left of him.
Ghost Girl nodded at me, and I dropped the bubble. Spasm and Trojan Fox set about reviving a number of the Secret Service agents.
“Madame President,” I said. “I’m sure you’ve got a bunker down there somewhere. You might wanna get yourself and your family and as many guys with guns down there as you can… this next part’s not gonna be fun.”
“Even if anything you said is true,” she said. “Nothing changes.”
“We know. Doesn’t mean we can’t do the right thing sometimes.”
Though the Secret Service guys looked more interested in taking us down, the president ordered them to take her and her people to the bunker. So that’s one problem down, that just leaves—
“Fine, you want to do this the hard way, we’ll do this the hard way!” a commanding voice roared from above us.
Yeah, that just leaves that problem.
Surrounded by gold and white energy, Helios flew in and landed in front of us so hard that he cratered the lawn. Comet Girl landed beside him, as did Armada, shutting off his jetpack. From Tri-Holes around us emerged Everywhere Man, Silver Shrike, Morningstar, the Voice of the People, and Extreme Man.
Eight against six. Real fair, guys.
“Don’t bother looking for rescue or trying to run,” Helios continued. “We control the Tri-Hole network now. Sure, they’ll get it back sooner or later, but not before you’re all a bunch of greasy smears on our fi—”
Fuck monologues.
I blasted him through the air. It looked like I got at least a mile or two on him.
That’d buy us a few minutes.
The others weren’t interested in monologues. They just wanted us dead.
They attacked all at once, Armada and Extreme Man with their guns, Silver Shrike with his arrows, Morningstar with her enchanted mace, the Voice of the People with his superpowered scream (which shattered windows for blocks around), and Comet Girl and Everywhere Man with themselves (or in Everywhere Man’s case, many, many copies of himself).
With my focus, Nevermore’s brick wall, and Geode and Trojan Fox’s bodies, we were able to keep the others safe. The reporters weren’t so lucky, a few being taken down by stray bullets and energy blasts, but aside from the few who ran, most kept their ground with cameras on us.
Trojan Fox broke formation first, taking off and unleashing all of her lasers, chain guns, darts, and rockets on the heroes, getting them to scatter even though she didn’t seriously hit anyone aside from a few Everywhere Men.
After that, we made a beautiful mess of the fight.
I took Armada down first. He aimed an anti-tank rocket launcher at Spasm, so I focused on the barrel, bending it just enough to explode the rocket in the tube. In defense of his armorer, his costume saved his life, but all his bandoliers and ammunition started to cook off, exploding and igniting the fuel in his jetpack. He ran off screaming and exploding, setting off small fires as he went.
“Dodge to the right about a foot?” Spasm said.
I obliged him, just in time to see him force Extreme Man to double over, vomiting explosively.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said.
There were enough Everywhere Men on Geode to overwhelm even his superstrength, pulling him down so the Voice of the People could scream at him. His crystals began to crack under the sonic attack. Spasm and I tried to get to the Voice, but too many Everywhere Men got in the way.
“Duck!” someone yelled.
We did, quick enough to see the giant bladed pendulum swoop over our heads, cutting most of the Everywhere Men down. Nevermore ran through, using Geode like a ramp to leap up and over the Voice’s scream. She landed behind him, generated an ax from one of her tattoos, and buried it into his shoulder.
His eyes went wide and his scream went high, blowing a hole in the White House. Another ax swing, this time to the back of his head, silenced him forever.
The screaming didn’t end there.
Trojan Fox h
ad Comet Girl impaled on the retractable blades of her gauntlets. Though she screamed bloodily, Comet Girl was blasting pieces of Trojan Fox’s armor away with her freezing vision. Silver Shrike had found some arrows capable of piercing Trojan Fox’s armor and had shot two straight into her back.
He approached her from behind, tauntingly nocking another arrow.
“You want this one, dear?” he joked.
“Oh, can I?” Morningstar said as she started to swing her glowing, magic mace in arcs of green and blue light. One hit from that would end Trojan Fox and Comet Girl.
Ghost Girl saw that, too, diving at Trojan Fox and Comet Girl and knocking them down.
Morningstar had built up so much momentum she couldn’t stop herself from slamming the mace down onto Silver Shrike’s head, turning it (and pretty much everything down to his pelvis) into a chunky, red paste.
“STEVEN!” she cried out. “OH GOD, STEVEN!”
She collapsed, bawling, next to the mess she’d made of her husband.
If I hadn’t suddenly been surrounded by a couple dozen Everywhere Men, that might have made me a little sad.
But I was surrounded, so I had no time to grieve for her fallen husband.
I didn’t know how many copies of himself he could make, but I think this might have been a personal record. There had to be at least a hundred of him, with more joining the fray every second. We hit them with everything we had: lasers, debris, crystals, ravens, axes, and even our bare hands. Ghost Girl was surrounded by fifteen of them, and kept them in a circle around her, beating them back with her quarterstaff and kicks. Geode was back on his feet, smashing them with his giant, crystalline hands.
Yet for every one we destroyed, two more joined the fight. They were unarmed, sure, but enough of them working as one…
Show them what you showed the Golem…
No. That was only a last resort.
Ghost Girl slid next to me. “We need to find the root!”
“Can you see him?” I yelled.
“Of course! But that’s the easy part!” she cried out, whirling her staff around and beating three of them back. I could see her point.
