by Lucas Flint
“You’re a monster,” said Talon. “Taking innocent people and performing such ghastly experiments upon them, all just so you can satisfy your own delusions about achieving immortality. You are sick.”
“I am greater,” Mann replied. “From a young age, I have always known that I was destined for greatness, ever since I first discovered my connection to the Starborn. With the Starborn under my control now, I will conquer the entire planet under my heel. Soon—very soon—all people on this world shall know my name, shall know it and tremble. And there is nothing you can do about it.”
Mann pointed his cane at them. “Starborn, annihilate the Young Neos. Show them no mercy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The Starborn began moving through the air toward Stinger and the Young Neos. Despite their power, the Starborn were not very fast; they floated slowly, even somewhat clumsily, but that didn’t matter, because their red eyes made them look like monsters and they had more than enough power to utterly destroy Stinger and the others.
Stinger nonetheless prepared to fight, but Bolt suddenly said, “Everyone, we need to run, now!”
“Run?” Talon repeated, looking over her shoulder at Bolt. “What are you talking about? Shouldn’t we try to fight them?”
“No,” said Bolt, shaking his head. “There’s no way we can beat the Starborn. We need to get out of here and try to alert the NHA. We can’t beat the Starborn on our own, especially if the Venetians step in and help.”
“Brother is right,” said White. “Starborn too strong. Bolt too hurt. Team not full. Better to retreat.”
Stinger gritted his teeth. He hated running from a fight, even from a fight he couldn’t win, but at the same time, he realized that Bolt had a point. The Starborn were head and shoulders above anything they had ever fought before and, as Bolt said, if the Venetians decided to help, the fight would likely be short, bloody, and extremely painful.
But who says it has to be a fight? Stinger thought, glancing up the platform at Mann, who had not moved from his position at all. Maybe we can end this a different way.
Stinger looked at Bolt. “Bolt, what if I tried to sting Mann and paralyze him? People who are paralyzed by my venom are also incapable of using their powers. If he’s paralyzed, he won’t be able to control the Starborn anymore.”
“Stinger, that’s a dumb idea and you know it,” said Bolt. “The Starborn—”
“The Starborn are going to be here anyway,” Stinger pointed out. “If I can at least free them of his mind control, we might be able to stop Mann if nothing else.”
“It’s not a bad idea, but the Starborn are still not exactly our friends,” Talon said. “What if they decide to destroy us all even after we help them?”
“You got any better ideas?” said Stinger. “Listen, once the Starborn get to the surface, it will be game over. If we try out this plan, we have a chance at survival, however slim.”
Bolt looked like he still did not agree with the idea whatsoever, but he finally nodded and said, “All right. We’ll distract the Starborn while you try to get to Mann. We’ll also try to distract the Venetians if they step in, but no guarantees.”
Stinger nodded. “That’s all I need.”
Stinger immediately shot into the air, his wings flapping furiously, although he nearly stopped due to the pain from earlier. He remembered what Healing Touch had said, about how his wings might fall off if he used them too much, but he didn’t care. He would be back on the ground soon enough, once he reached Mann.
The Starborn stopped in midair as Stinger approached. They raised their hands, most likely to unleash some sort of energy blast, but then two lightning bolts—one red, the other white—struck the Starborn. The bolts did not destroy the Starborn; indeed, they didn’t even seem to faze them. However, the Starborn were nonetheless knocked aside by the blasts, creating a large opening for Stinger to take advantage of. Stinger zipped through the opening as fast as he could, feeling the grasping, slim fingers of the mind-controlled Starborn as they tried to stop him, but he was too fast and soon had passed by them entirely.
On the platform below, Mann was still sweating and panting, but he managed to look up at Stinger anyway. All Stinger needed to do was sting Mann once … just one time and—
All of a sudden, Stinger heard a flapping of wings to his right and was body-slammed by Pantalone. Stinger flew through the air uncontrollably until he landed on the platform hard, rolling several feet until he stopped at someone’s feet. Dazed from the impact, Stinger looked up and saw Bauta’s eerie mask floating over him like a ghost.
“Hello, Stinger,” said Bauta. “Remember me? Don’t worry if you don’t, however, because my mask will be the very last thing you see.”
Bauta aimed a gun at Stinger, but Stinger rolled away just as Bauta fired a bullet, which echoed deafeningly loud so close to Stinger’s ears. Rolling to his feet, Stinger heard someone running behind him and looked over his shoulder just in time to see Volto’s fist coming toward him. Stinger caught Volto’s arm, however, and, using his own momentum, threw Volto toward Bauta. Bauta’s eyes widened in shock for a brief moment before Volto crashed into him and the two Venetians fell onto the ground in a tangled mess of limbs and robes, while Bauta’s gun went flying over the edge of the platform and down the stairs out of sight.
Panting, Stinger turned to go after Mann, but a large, bird-like shadow appeared overhead and Stinger had to duck to avoid Pantalone’s claws. Pantalone landed in front of Stinger, however, and lashed out with a kick, but Stinger jumped backwards out of Pantalone’s reach.
“Good reflexes, boy,” said Pantalone in a vicious tone. “But it will take more than good reflexes to get past us. Master Mann’s plan must never be allowed to fail.”
“Uh huh,” said Stinger, panting and gasping for breath. “You keep telling yourself that, man. You sound like a real supervillain when you talk like that.”
Pantalone growled and suddenly lunged toward Stinger with his arms outstretched. But Stinger launched into the air just high enough for Pantalone to pass by underneath. As Pantalone passed by, Stinger lashed out with a kick, striking Pantalone directly in the head and knocking him down onto the floor.
Without stopping to check if Pantalone was down for the count, Stinger landed on the ground and rushed toward Mann again. Mann still hadn’t moved and it sounded like Bolt, White, and Talon were keeping the Starborn busy. Just one sting and …
Stinger suddenly realized that he couldn’t hear his own footsteps anymore. A second later, a knife came out of nowhere to his right. He instinctively jumped to the side; however, the knife still cut through his right arm, making him gasp in pain as his right arm started bleeding. He grabbed his arm and staggered to the side and looked up to see his assailant.
It was Moretta, wielding a bloody knife before her. She advanced toward Stinger, blood lust in her eyes. Stinger backed away, but then he nearly tripped, though he managed to catch himself before he fell. A quick glance over his shoulder told him that he had somehow managed to back away against the edge of the platform, which had to be a twenty-five foot drop at least.
Gritting his teeth, Stinger looked at Moretta again. She was getting closer and closer, insanity and murder in her eyes, and Stinger knew he couldn’t beat her in a straight up fight. She was too good with a knife and he tried to sting her, she’d probably just cut his hands off. Yet Stinger couldn’t waste time fighting her, because the more time he spent fighting her, the less time he spent taking out Mann.
Stinger’s thoughts were interrupted when Moretta lunged toward him, knife out. Without even thinking, Stinger launched straight up into the air as fast as his wings would allow him. He managed to avoid Moretta’s knife; however, Moretta herself was not so lucky. Controlled by the momentum of her lunge, Moretta staggered forward until she reached the edge of the platform and fell straight off. She didn’t even scream as she fell to her death, which would have disturbed Stinger, but he was more focused on taking down Ma
nn than on whatever Moretta’s fate was.
Landing once more on the platform, Stinger dashed toward Mann. Mann was completely unprotected now. One sting and this entire battle would be over in an instant.
But then a young woman who couldn’t have been much older than Stinger suddenly appeared between him and Mann. Stinger recognized her as Della, though he was in such a hurry to reach Mann that he didn’t recall what her powers were off the bat. He did, however, recall that they were not particularly suited to combat, which meant that Della herself would probably go down in one or two well-placed hits.
Stinger threw a punch at Della, intending to knock her out in one hit, but Della dodged with far more fluidity than he expected. She then grabbed his outstretched right arm, his bloody wound, and squeezed.
Stinger screamed in pain and wrenched his bloody, wounded arm out of her grasp. He staggered backwards, grabbing his bloodied arm, but it wasn’t just the pain from the open wound that distracted him. His nose became stuffy, his eyes were watering like a fountain, and he suddenly had a terrible, hacking cough that briefly obscured his vision. As a result, he didn’t see the kick coming from Della until it was too late to dodge or block.
Della’s foot struck him straight in the stomach and he fell to the platform like a brick. Still coughing, Stinger tried to get up, but a couple more sharp, well-placed kicks from Della to his chin made his head spin.
“I know you’re one of White’s friends and all, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you,” said Della, though her voice sounded like it was coming from underwater for some reason. “My powers can heal, but I can also spread disease. Right now, you have a very bad cold coursing through your system. By itself, it probably won’t kill you, but combined with your arm wound, your chances of survival are quite slim.”
His head spinning, Stinger nonetheless tried to get back up, though he was knocked back down by another kick which came from out of nowhere.
“Of course, that would be if your disease and wound were allowed to run their course,” said Della. “That would take at least a few hours, maybe a few days, but Mr. Mann doesn’t like it when we take too long to kill his enemies, so I’m just going to finish you off here and now.”
The sound of a gun being cocked caused Stinger to look up. Through his watery eyes, he could see that Della was pointing a gun at his face, a pistol of some sort, though his vision was too blurred for him to tell what its exact model was. Not that he needed to know its exact make and model to know that a bullet to the head at point blank would be fatal for him.
And then Della pulled the trigger. A loud gun shot rang throughout the chamber and Stinger closed his eyes; however, he did not feel the lead bullet burrow into his skull, nor did he feel himself die. He didn’t even feel any pain, aside from what he was already experiencing. Yet Stinger knew he was not dead, because he could still hear the sounds of battle between the Starborn and the Young Neos nearby.
Slowly opening his eyes, Stinger was not sure what he was looking at initially. It was a long, red, transparent barrier of some sort, floating between his face and the barrel of Della’s gun. The tip of the gun was smoking and there was a spent shell on the ground near Della’s feet, but the bullet itself was nowhere to be seen. As for Della, she was staring at the barrier in sheer disbelief, as if she was not sure if she was dreaming or not.
“What … the … hell?” said Della. “Where did this come from?”
All of a sudden, the barrier turned into a spear and slammed into Della’s chest. Della fell flat on her back, her gun flying out of her hands and disappearing somewhere to the side. The red spear suddenly vanished, leaving Stinger to stare confusedly at the air for a moment before a familiar voice shouted, “Stinger!”
Stinger looked over toward the gateway from which the Starborn had emerged, which was still open. His mouth fell open when he saw who stood in front of it, mostly because he was absolutely certain that this was a dream now.
Standing in front of the portal, his hands on his hips and his chest out like he was Omega Man, was Shell. And he looked ready to kick butt.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Kevin narrowly avoided getting blasted into pieces by a Starborn. A black energy blast whizzed by overhead, causing Kevin to fire a red lightning bolt back in response. As usual, his lightning bolt hit the Starborn dead on, but as always, it didn’t seem to bother the Starborn one bit. Kevin still hadn’t decided if the Starborn were unflappable due to their god-like power or because Mann’s mind control was overriding their normal sense of pain. Either way, Kevin was glad that he had allowed Stinger to try to take down Mann, because he was pretty sure that the Starborn couldn’t be beaten in a straight fight.
As Kevin darted through the air, dodging more energy blasts from the Starborn, he kept glancing toward the platform where Mann stood. He had caught glimpses of Stinger fighting the Venetians, trying to make his way toward Mann. That was how he’d seen Stinger get slashed by Moretta and shot at by Della, but he had been so distracted by the Starborn that he hadn’t been able to come to Stinger’s rescue. He also caught glimpses of Mann, who seemed to be watching the battle with mad glee and a smile that Kevin wanted to punch.
Gotta focus, Kevin thought, firing another red lightning bolt at a nearby Starborn in retaliation for an energy blast. Keep the Starborn distracted long enough for Stinger to take out Mann.
Nearby, White was also firing blue lightning bolts at the Starborn. Below, Talon was making her way up the steps; because she couldn’t fly, she had said she was going to climb up to the platform to help Stinger. But her progress was slow, because stray energy blasts from the Starborn kept forcing her to stop or slow down. But Kevin knew she’d get there eventually, so he focused instead on fighting the Starborn.
One Starborn in particular had been giving him a hard time. The Starborn moved swiftly through the air like a skater on ice, dodging his attacks and responding with energy blasts of its own. The Starborn’s energy blasts were incredibly powerful, much more powerful than anything Kevin could create; but its aim was off, perhaps because Mann was having to split his control between six different individuals. Regardless, Kevin dodged each attack as quickly as he could, though it was hard whenever two or more Starborn tried to shoot him.
Dodging yet another energy blast, Kevin shot toward the Starborn, pulling his fist back in order to deliver the most powerful punch he could. Right before his fist connected, however, the Starborn disappeared, causing his fist to hit empty air. Kevin came to a halt and looked around wildly for the Starborn, but he did not see it until he heard movement behind himself and looked over his shoulder just in time to see the Starborn’s fist coming at him.
The Starborn’s fist hit him like a boulder rolling downhill. Kevin crashed down to the floor below, the impact shaking his senses and leaving him briefly stunned. But Kevin quickly shook his head and forced himself to sit up; however, it was hard work, because, in addition to taking that blow, he was still suffering from the blow he had taken from Mann. His body was screaming in pain, but Kevin ignored the pain as he rose to his feet.
Right before he flew back into the fight, a weak voice nearby muttered, “Bolt …” causing Kevin to look down to the right.
Eli was still lying at the foot of the platform. He looked even worse than before; his skin was deathly pale and his breathing seemed irregular. Nonetheless, he was still alive, though he seemed to be forcing himself to stay conscious. A discarded gun lay next to Eli, though as far as Kevin could tell, it was not Eli’s; perhaps one of the Venetians dropped it.
“Eli?” said Kevin. “I’m in the middle of a battle at the moment. Can’t talk.”
“You can’t win,” said Eli, as if Kevin had not said anything. His eyes flicked upwards. “The Starborn are too … too powerful. You and your friends will die.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” said Kevin. “You’re a great cheerleader, you know that?”
“You know I speak the … speak t
he truth,” said Eli. He coughed. “I don’t have much time left. Don’t know how much time I have … but I still want to help you beat my grandfather.”
Kevin frowned. “Eli, you’re nearly dead. Besides, I don’t think you have much combat experience. You should just try to relax … well, as much as you can here, anyway.”
Eli shook his head. “Not that way. I want … I want to make you powerful.”
Kevin raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
Eli raised a bloody hand. “I can … I can increase the strength of a superhuman’s abilities with a simple touch. It’s what my power is. You’re already extremely powerful, but I might be able to give you a boost that will help you beat … beat the Starborn.”
“That sounds … interesting,” said Kevin. “What’s the catch?”
“It isn’t permanent,” said Eli. He coughed suddenly, flicks of blood coming from his mouth. “It might last a few days or maybe a few hours; at this point, I don’t know. But it should last long enough … long enough for you to beat the Starborn.”
Kevin scratched his chin. He didn’t have a lot of time to think about Eli’s offer; however, when he looked up at the sky again and saw White desperately trying to distract all six Starborn by himself, Kevin realized that he didn’t have a choice.
Looking at Eli again, Kevin said, “All right, Eli. I’ll take your offer.”
“Good,” said Eli. “Come close, because I need to be in physical contact with a person in order for my powers to work.”
Kevin ran over to Eli and bent over to get close to Eli. Eli placed one weak, bloody hand on Kevin’s shoulder and squeezed.
All of a sudden, Kevin felt energy pour from Eli’s hand into his body. Kevin normally felt strong and powerful; however, what he felt now was unlike anything before. Lightning raced through his blood and bones, all of his exhaustion evaporated in an instant, and he felt like he could lift the Empire State Building on his shoulders. Not only that, but his body began to glow red; in fact, he had so much power that his eyes were starting to crackle with electricity.
