The Super Power Saga (Book 3): Fear the Empire

by Jaron Lee Knuth

  “I still can't believe this, Mickey. If you can practice your power... if you can control it somehow...”

  “Andre...” Mickey spoke in much quieter voice, suddenly sounding very serious. “I can control it. How do you think I managed to speed time back up to where we're having this conversation?”

  Andre's voice suddenly sounding much more excited. “If you can control it then...?”

  Mickey shook his head. “Look at me, Andre. I'm an old man. Do you really think I want to spend anymore time living at that speed? Do you think I want to burn up anymore of the years I have left?”

  Andre rushed over to his side. “But Mickey... think about it. You could do anything with this power. Nothing could stop you. Robbing banks would be child's play. I mean, you could be Imperator if you wanted.”

  Mickey stared at the floor, looking sad. “I'm sorry, Andre, but that sounds... awful.”

  “Awful? Awful, how?”

  “I've been watching you. I've seen the things you've done. I know this has been your dream, but... it isn't mine. I don't want any part of this.”

  “Any part of... what?”

  Mickey stood up, motioning around the room. “Look at this place, Andre. You did it. You actually became a real life supervillain. You're a wanted man with a lair and a vault full of money.”

  “Yeah? And?”

  “Exactly. That's exactly my point. Now what? You did it. You achieved your goal. So now what? Now that you have all of the gadgets and weapons you could ever want... what are you going to do with them?”

  Andre rolled his eyes, but he looked uncomfortable, stumbling through his answer. “I have... plans, you know? Different ideas I'm trying to figure out. I mean, I want to really put my mark down. I don't want to be some flash in the pan that isn't remembered.”

  “Is that it? You're worried about being remembered?”

  “Of course. Isn't that why anyone does anything with their life? People have kids, they write books, they start businesses, they invent things, so that they might live on past their short lives. They want to be immortal, and the closest we can get, is for our names to live on, right? I want my name in the history books.”

  Mickey sat down next to Andre and touched his shoulder. “I wish you could understand that you're already going to be remembered.”

  Andre jerked his head back. “By who? I haven't even come up with a supervillain name yet. The media has no idea what to call me. I was thinking about-”

  “No. You are going to be remembered. Andre Evans. You're going to be remembered by your friends. You keep trying to achieve these lofty goals and get strangers to fear or respect you, but while you're doing that, you're ignoring the people who love you.”

  “What? I'm not ignoring anyone. I invited Lucy and her boyfriend here when they needed to be protected. And I'm going to do just that. Protect them. And when she has her baby, she can raise it here. I'm not going to let anything happen to them. Or you. I made that mistake already with Victor. Trust me, it's never going to happen again.”

  “I know. And that's one of the things I love about you, Andre. You're one of the most loyal friends I've ever met. I only wish that was enough for you. I wish you were satisfied being the person you already are... the person you always have been.”

  Andre looked away for a moment, like Mickey's words had touched a nerve, but his emotional walls raised right back up. “You don't have to worry about me, Mickey. I'm doing great.”

  Mickey smiled gently. “The one thing I figured out in my time alone, was that my friends are the most important thing in the world. So I'm sorry, Andre, but I am always going to worry about you, no matter what. And I know you're going to do the same for me. It's kind of our thing.”

  Andre smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “As long as you're here, with me, you've got nothing left to worry about.”

  Lucy and Connor walked back into the room just at that moment, carrying a steaming pizza, fresh from the oven. “Dinner's ready!”

  Mickey grabbed his belly and leaned forward. “I had no idea how hungry I was until I smelled that.”

  Connor set the pizza down in front of Mickey and said, “Dig in. This one's all yours. We've got another in the oven.”

  Mickey grabbed a slice and pulled it away from the pizza, admiring the strings of cheese that stretched between the two. Lucy giggled as he sunk his teeth into the thick crust and moaned with delight.

  “This is delicious.”

  “I'm glad you like it. To be honest, I was kind of having a pregnancy craving and just hoped you wanted pizza too.”

  Mickey elbowed Andre in the ribs and motioned toward Lucy's belly. “You're acquiring quite the little tribe. You sure you're up to the task of protecting all your new friends?”

  Andre leaned back in his chair, looked at each one of them sitting in the room together, and with a satisfied look on his face he said, “We're not just friends, Mickey. We're family. We protect each other.”

  Mickey nodded as he devoured another big bite. “I hope you're right, Andre, because from what I've seen of this world, there's a lot we're going to need protection from.”

  26

  WESLEY

  Zola threw him through the doorway, and when he landed on the floor, his face smacked against the stone. Zola applied pressure to his entire body with her mind, keeping him flat. He tried to look up, but only saw Kgosi's feet in front of him.

  “Zola! What is the meaning of this?”

  “He's done it again, my God-King. Your golden child has crossed a line even you can't ignore.”

  Wesley tried to speak, but she clamped his jaw shut and sealed his lips tight.

  Kgosi lifted himself from his seated position, floating only inches from the floor. “What are you talking about? Release him.”

  “I don't dare release him, my God-King. He is a murderer. No better than a savage beast.”

  Kgosi scoffed aloud. “Zola, my dear, if this is still about the Mind Trial, I have explained to you-”

  “No!” Zola's voice shrieked, like she was losing her normal composure. “I'm not talking about Sergio. I'm talking about Javier.”

  “Javier?”

  “Wesley murdered him, in cold blood.”

  There was a long pause before Kgosi asked, “Is... is this true?”

  “Of course it is!” Zola shrieked again. “Do you think I would lie to you?”

  “I'm asking him, Zola. Let him up.”

  Wesley felt his body ripped from the ground, held aloft in between Zola and Kgosi. He could feel the hesitation, but she finally let go of his jaw, although the rest of his body remained restricted.

  Wesley struggled to blurt out an explanation, but none came. “I didn't... I was tricked. She was... he was...”

  “You see? He fumbles through his own lies!”

  “No! I'm not lying. I thought he was responsible for the attack against Ntombi, but it was Zola!”

  Zola let out a single laugh. “Do you really think anyone would believe that after what you did? You're going to blame me for the murder of Javier?”

  Wesley took a deep breath. “No. It was me. I... I killed him. And I can't even say I'm sorry for it.”

  Zola shrieked with excitement again, like everything she had been waiting for was finally coming true. “You see? He admits it. He's a murderer. He has stolen your last hope for a new generation of psionics. He has cut off this family at the knees, again and again. It's time for you to squash this problem, my God-King. It's time to end him.”

  Kgosi stood in front of Wesley, searching his eyes. As Wesley saw the disappointment in his teacher's gaze, tears rolled down his face. He was actually surprised how much it affected him to see the look of failure reflected back, but he was mortified. Kgosi had touched something inside him, and he had reciprocated. Their minds had become one, and in that, they had felt an understanding like no other human could possibly relate to. It was beyond friendship, beyond family, and beyond love. He was Kgosi and Kgosi was
him. One and the same. But all he felt in that moment was the divide.

  Kgosi returned to a seated position, albeit still floating above the floor. “I'm disappointed in you, Wesley.”

  He tried to think of a better reply, but only responded with, “I know.”

  “Do you understand what this... what your act of violence has cost our family?”

  Wesley was going to respond the way he knew he was supposed to, with an acceptance of his actions and a show of regret, but he could not.

  “I did nothing but help our family. Javier and his brother were both stains on this entire house.”

  Zola squeezed her pressure on him and his body jerked. “Do not speak ill of the dead, murderer. You are the only stain on-”

  “Zola! Please,” Kgosi shouted. “You have made your stance clear.”

  “But I-”

  “You want me to lash out and kill this boy without any inquiry? Is that not the same action you are faulting him for?”

  “I'm sorry, my God-King. I am only hungry for justice.”

  “Your hunger should be for Veritas and Veritas alone.”

  “Yes, my God-King.”

  Kgosi returned his attention to Wesley. “You harbor no regret for your actions?”

  “Only that they were necessary.”

  “Necessary? You saw no other course of action that could have solved the issues you have with these brothers? Are you really satisfied with the outcome of your decisions?”

  “Of course I wish there would have been another way, another ideal outcome where we all live happily ever after. But I am a realist. I saw the hate and selfishness in his heart. I saw the joy he found in abusing others. It would only lead one way. There was only one outcome. Someone had to die. It was either him, or his victims.”

  Kgosi sighed, disappointment flashing across his eyes once again. “I'm sorry you see things in such a narrow way. I had hoped I shared more with you inside of my mind than that.”

  Zola stepped up next to Wesley and said in a more calm manner, “You're a fool, Wesley Lockhart. You are the abuser. You are the one who will end with a death.”

  “Is this what you've been wanting, Zola? You want to become heir to a family because you're the only one left alive? How do you find any satisfaction in that? Do you really think if there's no one else to love, Kgosi will love you more?”

  Zola hissed at him. “Quiet, fool. You don't know what you're talking about.”

  Kgosi seemed to perk up with confusion. “What is he talking about, Zola?”

  Zola looked uncomfortable for a moment before she collected herself and said, “The ramblings of a desperate man, my God-King. That is all. He is grasping for anything that may save his life.”

  Wesley tried to shake his head, but couldn't. “That's not true. In fact, the moment I killed Javier, I knew what my fate would be. But I accepted it, because I knew that even if I were to die, this family would thrive without him. I assume I won't be the last psionic to come knocking on your door. If this family navigates its future correctly, everything Kgosi has promised will come true. I have no doubt about that. I believe that so much, that I was willing to sacrifice my own life in order to correct the direction we were headed.”

  Wesley took a deep breath. “If my fate is death, if that is what you call justice, fine, but I warn you, Zola is not to be trusted.”

  “More lies!” she shrieked, trying to press his lips together again with her mind.

  He struggled through her mental grip, managing to mumble, “She is selfish and cares little for this family, other than the love and adoration they can heap onto her.”

  “Zola!” Kgosi shouted again. “Let him talk. If he is to die today, he at least deserves the chance to speak his mind.”

  “That would be more than he offered Javier.”

  “We are better than murderers.”

  Zola hesitated again, but finally relented.

  When he had control of his mouth again he blurted out, “It was Zola who orchestrated this. She wanted me to do her dirty work for her, clearing out anyone who stood in her way to become your heir.”

  “He lies,” Zola growled. “He is trying to discredit the only person who knows the truth!”

  “Not only person.”

  The voice came from the doorway, and although Wesley was unable to turn toward it, he recognized it immediately. Ntombi stepped into the room, taking her place on the opposite side of Wesley from Zola.

  “My dear, you are injured,” Kgosi said, floating toward her and brushing his hand against her bruised cheek.

  “It nothing,” she said, turning away from his touch. “I only want to say truth. I want you knowing Wesley say truth.”

  Kgosi looked back and forth at all three of them, trying to make sense of it all. “What are you saying? You know Zola is... somehow responsible?”

  “She hurt me. She is one who do this. But she know Wesley blame Javier. She know she use his emotions. She want what you have.”

  Zola screamed, “Lying bitch!”

  Ntombi was thrown across the room with Zola's mental power, but in her distraction, Zola dropped Wesley to the floor. His knees cracked against the stone and the palm of his one good arm caught the rest of his weight. He felt worn out after fighting against her mental grip, but managed to get his feet underneath himself and rushed to Ntombi's side. She was unconscious, but breathing. When Wesley turned to yell something at Zola, he saw her now floating above the floor, held in place by Kgosi.

  “What has happened to you all?” Kgosi said in little more than a whisper. “You are supposed to be my children. You are supposed to be a family. Have I not taught you better than this?”

  Zola grunted through her restricted position, “Do not listen to them, my God-King. They are working together. They are trying to undermine everything we've worked toward. They-”

  With a sigh, Kgosi said, “Zola? Silence yourself.”

  Her eyes bulged from her head in shock and confusion. Kgosi stepped past her and walked toward Wesley.

  “I know that my family thinks I get too caught up in my studies, that my focus is turned inward, but I am not blind. The Bautista brothers were always a placeholder. I knew they would raise good soldiers, but an army is only needed during a war. I wanted a leader. I wanted a parent for my children. But I have also witnessed Zola's pursuit of power since she arrived. It has surpassed her pursuit of Veritas. Her desperate need for my adoration, my acceptance, has clouded her mind. It is why, even though she has always been my first choice, I have never named her as my heir. I have been waiting for her to let go of these childish needs. I have been waiting for her to transcend that phase and accept herself. Only then would she become the God-Queen she was meant to be.”

  Kgosi placed his hand on Wesley's head. “But I see know, that day may never come. Her vindictive nature serves no purpose for a matriarch.”

  “Vindictive? It was Wesley that murdered Javier under the guise of vigilante justice. He is the vindictive one!”

  “What you say is true.” Kgosi gazed down upon Wesley. “Yet his vengeance served to protect our family. Your vengeance served only to protect yourself.”

  The look on Zola's face was blank, empty. She did not foresee Kgosi's reaction to what had happened, and had no reply prepared. Any betrayal she may have felt was lost in her own shock. She was silently in awe as Kgosi continued to speak.

  “I have seen into Wesley's mind. I have shared something with him that is unexplainable. But after that moment, I knew that no one else could possibly understand what this family means to me, what I want for all of your futures, and how to achieve it, together. He is the only one who has seen my soul and knows Veritas in a way that assures me he will continue my legacy unmarred.”

  “No,” Zola whimpered. “Don't do this.”

  Kgosi bowed his head, took a moment, then turned his gaze toward Zola. “I'm sorry, Zola. I truly am. You are such a special part of my life, but I can't see a future where you will raise
my children in the light of true Veritas.”

  Kgosi turned back toward Wesley. “And so, my son, my reflection, the seer of my true self, I name you my heir.”

  Wesley didn't even have a chance to react before Kgosi jerked upright. His body was thrown against the wall, smashing into the stone so hard that when it was torn away, it left a small splatter of blood. It smashed against the opposite side of the room, his skull cracking again. Zola dropped onto her feet when Kgosi's mental grip let go of her under the stress of the impact. She held out her hand, her fingers gripping the air between her and Kgosi.

  “You will not take this away from me! This is my fate. This is my future. If I have to take it from your cold, dead body... so be it.”

  27

  CARMEN

  Carmen heard the rush of air from the balcony that always signaled Maksim's return, but it surprised her. She wasn't expecting her husband's arrival for days. With more than a few excited butterflies in her stomach, she set down her book, pushed herself off the couch in the lounging area, and waddled her pregnant belly into the bedroom. When she saw Maksim standing in the opening, his armor and cape burned from his body during reentry, all the excitement drained from her, replaced with dread. She could see in his eyes a fear that someone as powerful as him rarely showed.

  “What is it? What happened?”

  He stepped toward the bed as if his body were drained of energy. “I don't even know where to begin, Carmen. I don't... I can't...”

  Carmen rushed, as fast as she could, to his side. The child inside her was kicking its feet like it was running a marathon, but she tried to hide her discomfort. She wanted Maksim to know she was there for him to lean on, and she knew if he saw anything bothering her, he would completely turn the tables on her. He still had it in his mind that she needed saving, or at the very least, protection. Though, whenever he tried to flex his bravado, all she needed to do was touch the scar on his invulnerable face, the scar she had left there, and he was brought right back down to earth.