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

by Jaron Lee Knuth

  Zola's life instantly came to an end, every open space inside of her body suddenly filling with the hard stone of the mountain. She was unrecognizable, her form completely covered in rock, looking more like a stalagmite had risen from the floor.

  Wesley fell to the floor, his mind electrified with the ability he had just flexed, yet his body unable to hold himself upright. His knees were broken. His left arm refused to move. With only his right arm, he dug his fingers into the rocky floor, and dragged his body closer to Kgosi.

  “There's no need for that, Wesley. My time is at an end.”

  “No!” Wesley cried out, pulling himself with a renewed strength. “You're not going to die!”

  “It's okay, my son. You've done well. Your journey toward Veritas has just taken a mighty leap forward. I have no fears leaving the House of Psi in your hands. You will be a capable father to this family, of that I have no doubt.”

  “Somebody help!” Wesley screamed toward the doorway. “We need help! Kgosi is hurt!”

  “Wesley, please. Just stay with me. Our minds are linked in a way even I don't understand. To have you here, in this moment of transition, means the world to me. You are my reflection, my connection, my other half. We have shared something that no other humans can relate to. You have existed in my mind, you have seen the world through my eyes. And I, yours. That is something to be cherished. That is-”

  “Wait,” Wesley said, his mind suddenly calm and directed. “That's it. That's what we need to do.”

  Wesley rolled over, his back against the floor, and closed his eyes. He stared into the void, peering through the darkness, toward that single light that somehow existed both on the other side of forever, and right next to him. He turned his mental gaze, shifting its dimensional viewpoint, and saw Kgosi's mind, his thoughts.

  He saw himself.

  “Wesley, I don't know what you think is going to happen, but I will not exchange our thoughts again. There's no way I'm going to allow you inside this dying shell. This is my transcendence, not yours. There is no need to prolong my existence.”

  “Of course there is, you old fool. But I'm not going to die either.”

  Wesley reached out, grabbing Kgosi's mental image, and yanking him closer. First, they embraced. Then, their images blurred together, shifting and melding. An intellectual amalgamation. An emotional creation. Two became one.

  “Is this possible? Is this co-existence-”

  “-exactly what we've been trying to accomplish. This is the destination our fates were always headed toward.”

  “We did not need to trade places...”

  “We needed to find our place.”

  “Wesley...”

  “Kgosi.”

  “You are my other half.”

  “And now,” Wesley said, opening their eyes to the world for the first time, “we are whole.”

  32

  ANDRE

  Tears rolled down his cheeks as the pressure of the weight increased. His biceps bulged under his skin, wobbling as he pressed against the massive plate of steel. His shoulders strained, burning with a pain he had never known. The lever above the plate of steel groaned as his thigh muscles twisted against each other, pushing his feet into the reinforced floor.

  “Add... more,” Andre groaned.

  “Are you sure about that?” Mickey asked from the side of the training room. “There's no need to show off.”

  “Linus?” Andre yelled out to the lair's computer, “Do it.”

  “As you wish, sir. But just so you know, I'm not programmed to miss you if you die.”

  The steel plate pushed down harder and Andre bent in half. Every muscle in his body was shaking, wanting to give up, to let go, to allow that steel plate to crush him into a pancake. But Andre knew better. He took in a deep breath and let his powers take over. He had learned that it was pointless to actually rely on his body. No matter how much he worked out, his muscles weren't going to do the heavy lifting. It was whatever flowed through his DNA, or surrounded his skin, or pumped through his heart. It was his Super Power of Mass Destruction that lifted the steel plate. All he had to do, was will it to lift.

  “More!” he yelled, pushing against the plate's determined crushing power.

  The gears let out a shrill squeal right before Andre gave one last shove. The entire machine broke loose from the ceiling, crumbling down on top of him. Mickey took a step forward, ready to rush to his friend's side, but Andre stepped out of the cloud of debris, slapping his hands together to dust them off.

  “What we'd get to this time, Linus?”

  “Just under 25 tons, sir,” the computer replied with an unimpressed droll.

  “Awesome. Schedule a repair day for the training room, would you?”

  “Oh, I would love to, sir. Really. It's been a dream of mine ever since I gained sentience.”

  Mickey hooked a thumb toward the speaker in the corner of the room where the voice came from and asked, “You ever think about reprogramming that thing?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don't know. Make him... nicer?”

  Andre shrugged. “I don't mind.”

  Mickey raised an eyebrow. “You don't think it's a little... obnoxious?”

  “I just lifted 25 tons, Mickey. I don't think my future is in computer programming.”

  Mickey laughed. “Fair enough.”

  Andre grabbed a towel from the wall, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and hung it around his neck.

  “I'm starving. Let's get something to eat.”

  Mickey nodded. “I feel like ever since I sped time back up, I haven't been able to satisfy my hunger. I just keep eating and eating...”

  Andre threw his hands in the air as he walked toward the door of the training room. “Eat up, man! We've got all the money in the world!”

  Andre was still laughing with pride when he stepped into the hallway and ran right into Connor. The young man slammed into Andre's chest and fell backward, landing hard on the tiled hallway floor.

  “Whoa, man. What's the rush?”

  Connor scrambled back to his feet, gasping for breath. “Come on! You've got to see what's on the TV!”

  Connor pivoted on his feet and took off running back down the hallway, toward the main living quarters. Andre gave a confused glance to Mickey, who looked worried. They both hustled after Connor and followed him into the living room that he and Lucy were using. The giant screen on the wall was flashing with images of explosions and it took a few seconds for Andre to realize what he was looking at.

  “What is this?”

  Lucy spun around on the couch when she heard his voice and pointed at the screen. “The news! That's the Grand Citadel!”

  Another explosion erupted from one of the towers that twisted into the air. The camera zoomed in and caught a glimpse of a body falling from the plume of fire and smoke.

  “What's going on?” Mickey asked as he sat down next to Connor and Lucy on the couch. “Is someone attacking?”

  Lucy excitedly said, “Yeah! It's Carmen!”

  Andre's voice peaked as he drew out the name, “Carmen?”

  The group continued to watch as the tiny body that was falling from the Citadel turned in mid-air and flew back inside. Another wall melted open just before a beam of red hot energy flashed across the sky. There was only a few seconds pause before the beam reappeared, this time knocking the tiny body out of the Citadel again.

  Lucy tapped the volume button on the television and the group hung on the reporter's every word.

  “Eyewitness reports claim to have seen Yuri Zharkov the Ophanim, attacking Maksim Zharkov the Warhammer, moments before the explosions started. Our cameras have only caught glimpses of Maksim Zharkov's wife, Carmen Zharkov, using the super powers she inherited from her father, the supervillain known as Plasmax. The couple doesn't seem to be pulling any punches against their nephew, who has recently been the source of so much terror across the globe.”

  “This is incredible,”
Mickey mumbled, his mouth agape at the sights on the screen. “Carmen is... I mean, she's really powerful.”

  “It must be true, right?” Lucy asked, her eyes glued to the screen as well. “Her father really must have been Plasmax.”

  “No way,” Andre said, trying to push away the hate he was feeling when he heard them use Carmen's new last name. “That's just Zharkovian propaganda. Just because Carmen has heat powers, doesn't mean she has to be related to that monster. They just want to use the name, the brand recognition. That family is-”

  Yuri flew back toward the Citadel, this time rushing under the rocky belly that cradled the structure. The anti-gravity unit that the Oshiro dynasty had gifted the family was housed there, but Yuri's strength rocked the entire thing back and forth. The Citadel swayed in the sky, threatening to topple over at any moment, when Maksim burst from one of the open, flaming walls, and dove at the super-powered boy. Every punch that the two threw at each other shook the camera seconds later as the concussive wave rocked the surrounding area. Each strike was like a bomb exploding, overturning small vehicles and knocking people from their feet. The two men were throwing everything they had into every attack, and the earth quaked under their battle.

  As their onslaught continued, the cameraman panned around, trying to keep them in frame, until he was distracted by the burning visage of Carmen standing on the edge of the floating rock that held the Citadel. She blasted beams of energy from her hands, spraying the sky with the intense power housed inside her. Yuri continued to rise and dive through the air, dodging her blasts, until he shot toward her and grabbed her by the neck.

  “No!” Andre screamed at the TV, crushing the back of the couch in his grip as he leaned forward.

  The camera zoomed in, clearly showing the disfigured body of Yuri, burned and mangled by Carmen's powers. The group continued to watch as Maksim shot toward his nephew, then halted his approach when Yuri held her out in front of him. She struggled against his grip for a moment before her hands turned red, burning his fingers with her palms. Yuri dropped her instantly, grabbing his hands in pain. Carmen fell toward the earth when she was released, but Maksim immediately swooped down and caught her.

  “Yes!” Lucy called out when he snatched her from the sky. “At least the Zharkovs have good reflexes.”

  Andre growled, “The Zharkovs are the only reason she's in this situation, Lucy.”

  Lucy looked back at him nervously. “Right. I know. Of course. I just... I mean...”

  It only took a few seconds for Yuri to recover from yet another burn on his body before he rocketed toward Maksim and Carmen. Maksim turned toward the earth, trying to take away Yuri's advantage in the air. He set Carmen down on the ground right before Yuri plowed into him, driving both fists into his back. Maksim was flattened, Carmen was thrown back, but Yuri didn't stop. The boy was fueled with rage, pounding his fists into his uncle's body in such a rapid succession, it was hard to separate each strike in the blur of punches.

  Carmen blasted him again, holding both hands outstretched, but the scarred boy instantly dodged around the stream of white-hot heat, and grabbed onto her forearms. With a quick twist, he broke both of them and dropped her onto the ground.

  “You've caused me more pain than anyone else ever has,” Yuri said, his words fumbling through his melted lips. “Now watch me murder the man you love.”

  The boy screamed with rage as he stood over Maksim, clasped his hands over his head, and hammered the body below him with both hands. Like a jackhammer breaking rock, the boy wouldn't let up. Once he broke through Maksim's invulnerable flesh, it was disturbing to watch the tiny boy mutilate the body that laid below him. He just kept tearing his hands into his uncle, over and over, as blood sprayed like a geyser from the crater they sat in. When the boy gasped for breath, he looked around until he noticed the camera crew. Then, smiling with white teeth behind his blood-soaked and disfigured face, he floated toward them, holding the mangled body of Maksim in his grip.

  The camera man turned to run, but the reporter that stood next to him urged him to keep the shot.

  “Do you see?” Yuri cackled into the camera. “Do you understand what happens to those who oppose me? This was the only man left who even had a chance of stopping me. And look at him now...”

  Yuri giggled as he shook the gory mess he gripped in his hand. When the entertainment of shaking the bloody mess grew tiresome, he flung it toward Carmen, who lay wounded on the ground many feet away. The camera zoomed in on her as she flung herself on top of her husband, tears streaming down her face.

  “No...” Lucy said, covering her mouth as the distraught image of Carmen filled the screen. “Oh, no no no.”

  The TV suddenly shattered when a jade statue of a dragon struck the screen. Connor, Lucy, and Mickey all turned to see Andre pacing back and forth.

  Mickey stood up and said, “Andre, what are-”

  “He's wrong,” Andre said, clenching both his fists over and over. “Maksim wasn't the only one who has a chance to stop him.”

  “You can't be serious,” Connor said, seeing right through Andre's anger. “I know you're strong, but-”

  Andre turned toward the young man and lowered his head, peering at him through squinted eyes. “You have no idea how powerful I am.”

  Mickey moved to his friend's side and put his arm around him. “We're halfway around the world, Andre. We don't have time to-”

  “Time? You have all the time in the world, Mickey.”

  Mickey pulled back his hand from Andre's shoulder like he had been stung. “No. Andre, no. You can't make me do that. I don't want to spend anymore time in that... place. I don't want to watch the seconds go by like they're years. You have no idea what that's like.”

  “All you have to do is stop time long enough for us to get there. I'll do the rest.”

  “Us?” Mickey shook his head again. “I told you, Andre. I can't move things. The kinetic energy that I create moving out of time would be like a fist hitting you at a million miles an hour.”

  Andre grabbed Mickey by the shoulders. “You won't hurt me, Mickey. I promise.”

  Mickey kept shaking his head. “No. I can't. It won't work. It's impossible.”

  Andre gripped his shoulders harder. “Mickey. We have to do this. We have to save Carmen. That's what this has all been about, whether I wanted to admit it or not. Now is the time. Now is the only time. There's no other choice.”

  Mickey's head stopped shaking as he contemplated his next action, his next move, his next word.

  “Don't make him do this,” Lucy begged. “If he doesn't think he can-”

  “No,” Mickey said, holding his hand out to stop her protective pleading. “Andre is right. We have to do this. For her. For our friend.”

  “That's my boy,” Andre said with a smile, smacking Mickey on the shoulder a bit harder than he intended, and then turned toward Lucy and Connor. “You two stay here. Stay safe. We'll be back before you know it. And then...”

  Andre looked at Mickey, then to the shattered screen that only moments ago showed him Carmen's crying face. Finally, his gaze returned to Lucy and Connor.

  “And then... we can all be together again.”

  “Andre...” Lucy said, holding out her hand, but her words drifted away, like she wasn't sure what she wanted to say to him.

  He leaned across the couch and hugged her tightly. “It's going to be okay. I promise.”

  When he let her go, he pointed a finger directly at Connor. “Kid, you better keep her and that baby safe until I get back, or there will be hell to pay.”

  Connor smirked. “I give you my word.”

  Andre took a deep breath and looked at Mickey. “Okay, man. Let's do this.”

  Mickey looked more than nervous, but gave him a firm nod.

  His image shivered at first, then shook. It vibrated faster and faster, letting out a droning hum that filled Andre's ears, until suddenly a flash of light, no longer than a blink, blinded him as a force struck
his chest like a thousand rockets exploding all at once. When the light faded and his chest reacted to the impact, Andre's vision returned. He saw Mickey standing next to him, his hands on Andre's chest, as they both stood in the farm fields of the Fatherlands, with the Grand Citadel of the Zharkovian Empire burning above them in the sky.

  33

  ZANA

  Once the servants had properly bathed Zana, applying oils and perfumes to her skin, they proceeded to brush out her hair. The extreme lengths of straight, black locks stretched across the room, requiring six different girls to attend to it. When they had finished, another servant girl came into her quarters with a box of makeup made from plants and minerals found in Therian. She opened the box and the rest of the girls began the long, arduous task of braiding her invulnerable hair into the delicate nest she would wear upon her head for the festivities.

  “Stop.”

  The servants froze, looking up at her with a stunned confusion.

  “Leave me. Now.”

  With a quick exchange of nervous glances, the servants all bowed their heads in silence and scurried out of the room. Only Tila remained, lounging on the edge of the bed in full armor and swirling her red wine in a goblet as she flicked her tongue across her lizard lips.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “I can't stand this,” Zana said, pulling back her own hair. “All this poking and prodding and these slaves smearing perfumes and makeup across my skin. It's disgusting.”

  “They aren't exactly slaves.”

  “No? What would you call them?”

  “They're indentured servants. They're paying off debts to the Dominus. I'm not saying it's right... just different.”