Forging Hephaestus (Villains' Code Book 1)

by Drew Hayes

  “Your enemies won’t give you any quarter just because you’re tired,” Ivan replied, standing stoically as he carefully watched his student.

  “I’m not tired, ass. I’m just not sure what I’m supposed to be getting from this.” Tori could barely feel the weight of her own costume resting on her body. It breathed in a way she’d never found a fabric capable of. “Yeah, you’re a lot faster and stronger than me. Does me firing pointlessly at you for hours really have a point? Shouldn’t you be attacking me a little too?”

  “Unfortunately, I’m not yet confident that you could survive one of my attacks,” Ivan said. “As for the futility of training, did you imagine you’d close the gap between us in such a short time? The best way to improve at fighting is like any other task: do it relentlessly. You have to find a way to hit me, whether through creative tactics or increasing your core abilities. Either way, there’s no better training than doing the task. Even in failure, you’ll still grow stronger for the effort spent.”

  Tori idly conjured then released a fireball in her hand as she mulled over Ivan’s words. Essentially, fighting him was like trying to play a video game with the difficulty cranked up to maximum. She probably wouldn’t beat it anytime soon, but after enough time, the easier modes would seem ludicrously simple. The idea wasn’t necessarily flawed, though one glaring problem did stick out to her.

  “If that’s the case, then shouldn’t we be doing this once I have my actual costume?” Tori gestured to the dark, layered material she had worn upon entering the guild’s halls. “We both know I want to build a meta-suit. That’s the kind of villain I’m going to be. Why not train me how to fight with one of those, instead of with my fire abilities, since I never plan to use them?”

  “The girl has full elemental phasing and she wants a meta-suit? I can’t tell if that’s spoiled or ambitious.” Xelas tilted her head and tapped her cheek several times. “I’ll go with ambitious, since she said she intends to build her own.”

  “Intentions are well and good, but I can’t train you on something that might or might not one day exist,” Ivan replied. “Aside from which, the world is an unpredictable, dangerous place. Even if you have no intention of using these abilities for whatever reasons you’ve dreamed up, there may come a day when they are the only thing that will keep you alive. Better to have the skills and not need them than need them and not have them.”

  “Thanks for the cliché, Pop Pop. I’d still rather be training with the actual gear I’m going to be spending my life building and using.”

  “Well then, I’ll make you a deal,” Ivan said. “Once you have successfully constructed a meta-suit, feel free to bring it to our training sessions. In fact, any equipment you make is fair game...”

  Ivan’s words tapered off as Tori bolted through the desert sands until she reached the small pile where they’d set their duffels. He had brought along water, bandages, and some minor painkillers in case of emergencies. Tori quickly unzipped her bag and produced what looked like a gauntlet made of wires, sheet metal, and duct tape. In moments, she’d fastened it to her right arm and was scrambling to get back into position.

  “Made this in my downtime,” she said, answering a question no one had asked. “Doctor Mechaniacal was kind enough to provide me with a workspace and some materials in my apartment. It’s just a prototype, you understand. I’ll need much higher-end tech to create a model that will hold up long-term.”

  “She’s confident,” Xelas said. “Pseudonym, you got yourself a fun apprentice. I’m a little jealous.”

  “Would that I could hand her over to you,” Ivan muttered. “Very well, Apprentice, I am a man of my word. You may now use that new piece of equipment in our exercises for however long it holds up. Can we finally resume your training now?”

  “Hell yeah!” Tori slapped a few buttons and switches with her left hand and the gauntlet softly but audibly buzzed. Flexing her fingers, the glove piece moved, albeit stiffly. As Ivan watched, the dark material of the glove began to glow, turning from a rust color to hot red-white, like a sword pulled fresh from the forge. It was certainly an interesting spectacle, he would give her that.

  Ivan slid carefully into a defensive position, eyeing his apprentice closely as he waited for her attack. Though it didn’t seem so compared to his skills, Tori was actually a reasonable combatant already. It was true that she couldn’t hurt him, but dodging her attacks without tapping into too much of his power actually demanded some attention on Ivan’s part. Taking the fireballs head-on wouldn’t teach her anything, so right now he was focused on improving her ability to land shots.

  Tori licked her lips as she raised her right hand and took aim. No subtlety in her approach, but he supposed that was to be expected when using a piece of untested equipment. From the size of the thing, Ivan was guessing it would send a bigger blast of fire at him, augmenting her existing power. It was the smartest way to utilize what she had to get what she wanted.

  The white beam that shot out from Tori’s hand was roughly as thick as a soda can and moved so quickly that Xelas would have to replay it at a sixteenth of its actual speed for others to see what had happened. To those who didn’t have trained or enhanced senses, there was merely a flash, then a brief motion as Ivan stepped back, and a line of glass that suddenly materialized between Pseudonym and his apprentice.

  Ivan felt power surge through his veins before he even registered the threat. Time slowed as his eyes took on their trademark almost-entirely-black appearance, his magical energy reacting to the impending danger. He could see the beam scorching through the air, set on a course for his chest. She hadn’t pulled any punches, and for some reason, Ivan felt a flicker of pride at that fact. He could have avoided it entirely, but Ivan’s curiosity was piqued. If it had triggered his power, the beam must have been something notable. As her teacher, it was practically his duty to test what she could do.

  The beam struck him square in the shoulder, slamming into him like a burning hammer. It was so forceful that Ivan felt himself take a single step backward under the assault. Then it was over, and Tori was stripping off the gauntlet hurriedly as it smoked and popped, a meltdown already beginning.

  For his part, Ivan carefully examined the patch of sand that had been turned into glass from the cast-off heat, and then checked his shoulder. The fabric had been cleanly burned through, but his skin was largely unblemished. At the center of the circle, however, there was a small red spot. He touched it delicately and nearly winced in surprise. No doubt about it; that was a burn. As the spot faded, Ivan looked over at Tori, who had successfully freed herself from the glove before it began throwing off sparks like a busted transformer.

  She had managed to wound him with that garage-made device. Granted, he hadn’t been using any shields or wards, but it was still impressive. Untested and untrained though she was, Tori had done something entire legions of capes had failed to accomplish: put a wound on Ivan’s flesh.

  “Hot holy damn!” Xelas yelled from her perch on the rocks. “That one is going in the Christmas highlight reel.”

  * * *

  Chloe sat in the back of the small room, quietly filling small Styrofoam cups with dark coffee as she pretended not to listen. The people gathered around in metal folding chairs paid her no mind; they were used to half-concealed eavesdropping and lingering stares. After all, if being a meta-human was easy, they wouldn’t need support groups.

  “I made it to a third date with the girl I told you all about,” said a man wearing a battered toupee. His announcement was greeted by soft applause, and a light blush filled his round cheeks.

  “She knows I’m a meta, though I haven’t told her exactly how it works yet. I’m planning to tell her on our next night out. If you see me coming to extra meetings next week, you’ll know the reason why.” He chuckled anxiously and touched his toupee unconsciously. Chloe wondered what secrets the patch of fake hair was hiding as the others chattered with assurances that things would go well.


  She wasn’t quite sure why she’d volunteered to provide the coffee for this meeting. Yes, Ridge City Grinders did have a reputation for giving back to the local community, but that wasn’t why she felt uncertain. Truthfully, Chloe was chiding herself for being too much of a coward to just own up to what had happened and take a seat at one of those metal folding chairs. She’d created a convenient lie to come here while the coffee shop was being fixed, or at least made workable, because she didn’t want to admit to anyone, even herself, what the previous night’s storm had done to her.

  Her hands wavered slightly, and she focused on not talking. Not a mumble, or a whisper, or a word. Chloe had yet to figure out what caused the strange occurrences around her, but more often than not, they came after she spoke. Until she had control, or at least understanding, she was doing her best to stay mute.

  Chloe Henson refused to be beaten by mere blackouts, explosions, and strangely-oriented rain. She’d get the hang of what was going on, sooner or later. Chloe wasn’t ready to resign herself to one of those chairs.

  Not until she knew for sure just what had happened to her.

  * * *

  “That is... impressive.” Wade watched the video once more, carefully examining each detail, from the speed of the beam to the transformation of each grain of sand. On the desk next to the television sat the remains of Tori’s gauntlet. Ivan stood behind him, eyeing the video as Wade rewound and advanced to various parts. “There are flaws, of course. The beam’s power isn’t nearly constricted enough if it let out sufficient heat to turn the sand to glass. Speed could use work, as well. With that much blasting power, she could get it at least fifty percent quicker. And, of course, the fact that it burned out after a single shot speaks to some serious longevity issues. Overall, though, it’s quite an impressive accomplishment.”

  “Impressive would be if she’d had a month and real tools,” Ivan said. “Not a week of spare nights and a miniature junk shop above my garage.”

  “Now, now, I did provide some quality components for her to use,” Wade replied, rewinding the tape once again. “True, I wasn’t certain what she’d be able to do with them, but I wanted to give her a chance.”

  Ivan walked around to the front of Wade’s desk. Unlike his office at Indigo Technologies, the desk Wade sat at here didn’t sit in front of a glass wall that provided an excellent view. Instead, there were bits of tech scattered about the room, as well as a pile of half-finished inventions on Wade’s desk. Ivan often remarked that Wade was as messy as he was brilliant, which was a remarkably high bar on both accounts.

  “Wade, you need to shoot straight with me here. Did you give her anything that accounts for being able to build something that powerful? She managed to burn me, me of all people. I might not have been at full power, but I was definitely braced for the blow. If she could churn out something like that...” Ivan’s voice trailed off as the implication flooded his mind. He could count on one hand the number of people who could build a device like that so quickly, and one of them was standing on the opposite side of the desk from him.

  “When I first brought Ms. Rivas to your attention, I mentioned her powerful intellect,” Wade said. “From the moment I began testing her, it became clear that her greatest limitations have always been finances and resources. Given appropriate funding, your apprentice would have likely already constructed a meta-suit that would put my first generation ones to shame.”

  Ivan ran a hand through his dark hair and leaned against the edge of the metal desk, turning his eyes to the television once more. “You said she was smart, but that’s like Thuggernaut saying someone is tall. You’re both towering so far above most everyone else that it seems like you’re guessing at what everyone else’s standards are.”

  “Then let me clarify: Tori Rivas is smart by my definition of the word. Her technological prowess rivals any that I’ve ever seen. She still has much to learn and a long road before her, but I have no doubt she could be an inventor of legendary stature one day. Perhaps her creations will even eclipse my own.” Wade clicked off the television and picked up the smoking husk of her gauntlet.

  “So why in the nine hells aren’t you her teacher? Think of what that woman could do with a real scientist leading her.”

  “She doesn’t need scientific guidance.” Wade jiggled the gauntlet, causing a slight tinkling sound to fill the room. “That was proven by her little side-project here. If I train Tori, she will become a second generation version of me. She possesses the potential to be much more than a poor copy; she can be a powerful entity all her own. To get there, however, she needs to learn about more than science. Did you know that Tori was up for three grants during her time in high school?”

  “It didn’t come up over dinner,” Ivan said.

  “Each time, she was the frontrunner but refused to comply with the requirement that would split a percentage of credit and income for her discoveries with the grant’s investors. She has chosen to walk the path of poverty and crime rather than allow anyone else to have claim over her creations.”

  “Sounds a lot like someone I know, someone who got pissed at a company for stealing his designs and decided to wipe out their assets by force.” Ivan could still remember the first time he’d seen Doctor Mechaniacal in action—lasers blasting, energy missiles singing through the air, the high-pitched squeal of his sonic stun gun tearing at people’s ears. It had been all he could do to resist fighting him right then and there.

  “Precisely. Tori and I are too similar. Under your guidance, she will become a more adult, independent version of herself. Under mine, she would likely end up following in my footsteps, which is pointless. The world already has a Wade Wyatt. I think it would be better off experiencing a Tori Rivas at her true capacity.”

  “That’s all nice and well-intentioned, but look at what she made.” Ivan tapped the side of the gauntlet lightly, causing a piece to fall to the ground. “We can’t ignore that. Think about what she could do with real resources. It’s criminal to make her piss away time with me when she should be pursuing her true calling, and not the kind of ‘criminal’ that we actually enjoy.”

  “No, you’re quite right there,” Wade agreed, setting down the gauntlet before Ivan could do any more damage. “I gave her a few coins and she returned with a golden harp. Ms. Rivas has proven her innovation and intelligence to a degree that even I wasn’t expecting. It’s high time we allowed her to start constructing that meta-suit she’s always going on about. The materials will be pricey, but I don’t mind putting them on loan until she begins to earn for the guild.”

  “Perfect.” Ivan walked over and sat forcefully in one of the chairs next to Wade’s desk. “We can keep the apprenticeship going, but I’ll have her move into guild quarters where she can have a proper lab. As soon as Xelas is done showing her around, we can give her the good news.”

  Wade took a seat behind the desk. This was not done out of a need to show Ivan which of the two of them was in charge, but because it put a large, heavy object between Wade and his friend. “Actually, there’s no need for that. As I mentioned, Ms. Rivas did better than I expected, but I realized she might need a true workspace from the first time we met.”

  “What did you do?” Ivan’s eyes narrowed and he gripped the edge of the desk.

  “Nothing too extreme; we merely had a lab built for Ms. Rivas at your residence. It locks from your side and has every safeguard you can think of. She could set off anything short of a nuke and it wouldn’t singe your wallpaper.”

  “Uh huh. And why haven’t I noticed this lab anywhere around my house?” Ivan’s irises hadn’t vanished yet, but darkness was beginning to creep slowly through his sclera.

  “Well, obviously, because we put it in the basement,” Wade replied.

  “I don’t have a... Wade, what did you do?”

  Wade coughed lightly, a signal that activated many of the defensive measures he’d set up throughout the office. “Since we had the opportunity when we were renovati
ng your garage and moving Tori in, I may have left behind some bots to construct a basement that would make a suitable laboratory. It can be stocked with everything your apprentice needs by day’s end.”

  “Just so we’re clear—” Ivan stood up, the entirety of his eyes now cloaked in darkness with only the glowing red runes remaining “—you violated my house without permission, left your little builder-bots around to do whatever they pleased, and built a subterranean level without so much as consulting me?”

  “I also took the liberty of stocking a few initial components while we were having this chat,” Wade added. If it was going down, he might as well get everything settled at once.

  “Get your suit and call Tunnel Vision,” Ivan instructed. “We need to have a... chat... about the importance of personal boundaries.”

  Chapter 16

  Tori walked into Monday’s weekly meeting tired, sore, and exhausted, yet it was still the most cheerful any of the staff had seen her since her arrival. Training with Ivan had been a wearying experience, but it had all been worth it when he showed her the secret basement tucked under the house. She wasn’t entirely sure why he had seemed so grumpy as he’d given her the tour, but the moment she’d set eyes on her new workstation, Tori hadn’t cared enough to try and guess.

  It was gorgeous—barrels and buckets of parts, along with a computer that could actually handle her calculations and software. There had even been a piece of decoration, the gold-frame painting of Tori and her parents she’d requested to have returned. While Ivan had plodded about like he’d never seen the basement before, Tori dove headfirst into exploring, cataloguing, and—most importantly—planning. She’d barely gotten any sleep. Ivan had to drag her away for Sunday’s combat training, and he had actually cut her off from lab access at ten that night so she would get a few hours’ rest before they had to go back to work. Her brain had been buzzing, though, and while Ivan could stop her from physically tinkering, he couldn’t do a thing about her making sketches in her head.