Super Powereds: Year 4

by Hayes, Drew

  “This time last year, it probably would have. But haven’t you noticed yet, Vince?” Roy smiled, advancing a few paces forward as the last of the electricity’s lingering effects seemed to dissipate. “We’re halfway through the year, and nothing has managed to knock me down for the count yet. Not a Sim; not a student. I might not be as versatile as the rest of you, but I’ll be damned if I don’t have staying power.”

  Roy was right. Now that Vince was really thinking about it, the last time anyone had managed to seriously injure Roy was during the attack on Lander last May. Since then, he’d endured everything thrown at him. Even after being halfway crushed by Professor Cole, he’d seemed none the worse for wear. It was an easy thing to miss, since Roy didn’t stand out as much compared to the students sweeping entire sections of Sims off the battlefield. One on one, however, he was probably among the most dangerous opponents in the class.

  They’d all gotten two points off of defeating Professor Cole. And unless Vince brought his absolute best to this fight, those were all the points he’d be scoring.

  * * *

  “How many people know what they’re really seeing?”

  Gale slid into the seat next to Titan—one of the many empty ones around him. Although he’d wanted to jump closer to the screens as soon as Roy went into a cell with Professor Cole, to cheer for his sons as they managed to yank a seemingly impossible victory out of sure defeat, Titan had done none of that. Instead, he’d sat in the rear of the room, sipping a beer, acting as detached as possible. Hershel and Roy deserved to make their own way in the world. Being known as Titan’s offspring would link them to him forever, and they’d made it clear that that wasn’t something either of them wanted.

  “A good fight?” Titan asked. “I’m pretty sure they all know that. It’s impossible not to. How often do students manage to beat a professor? And then go right into a one-on-one match against each other? This is high entertainment.”

  “Oh, there’s no question that people are going to be telling their teams about this when they go home tonight,” Gale said. “But that’s not what I’m talking about. What I mean to say is, how many people in here realize that they’re seeing a live match between the son of Globe and the son of Titan?”

  Titan turned his head around quickly, seeing if anyone nearby had reacted to Gale’s words. She’d spoken softly, but there was no telling what augmented senses other people might have. Seeing his concern, Gale dismissed the issue with a wave. “I shifted the air around us while I was speaking, and no one is paying attention to us anyway. This is just between you and me.”

  “Much as I appreciate that, I’d rather you never said anything at all,” Titan told her. “So, who spilled the secret?”

  “Did you forget that I’ve got a Subtlety Hero on my team and favors I can call in? After that weird display at the last mixer, I decided to dig a little deeper. I have to say, the connection explains a lot. Guess the relationship is a rocky one?”

  “It’s gotten much better in the past few years. But we’re still far from being on good terms,” Titan admitted.

  “Yeah, I figured that out for myself. Chin up, though, Titan. If you can win me over, then no one is totally hopeless.” Gale paused, taking a sandwich from one of the many small tables set up around the room. “I have to say, it sort of makes me respect the kid a little more now that I know his relationship to you.”

  “Because you think that highly of me?”

  “Because I like the fact that he isn’t trading on your name,” Gale explained. “I mean, if he made the relationship public, there would be some people who wanted to scoop him up for the associated reputation alone. You might not be universally loved, but no one can talk shit about your abilities. Seeing him try to make his own way, I don’t know, I like that. Weird relationship stuff notwithstanding.”

  “I get what you mean.” Titan looked back at the screen, where Vince and Roy were back in the middle of the room. “Roy doesn’t need to trade on my name, anyway.”

  “That so? Is that your way of saying he stacks up to the legendary Titan?”

  Looking down from the screen, Titan glanced over his own thick, muscular frame. So much power, so many battles that had pushed him past his limits and given him strength he never knew he was capable of.

  “Compared to the me of now, no, it’s not a contest,” Titan said. “But if Roy were to go up against the HCP version of me, he’d almost definitely come out on top.”

  Gale swallowed her sandwich a little harder than was strictly necessary. “He’s that strong?”

  “He’s probably almost at the same level I was at his age, though I doubt that ‘almost’ lasts for much longer. But no, what makes Roy really dangerous is that, unless I miss my guess, he’s going to be able to fight much more intelligently than anything I was ever able to manage.” Titan looked back at the screen again, where Vince’s retreat and Roy’s advance had both halted. “Then again, that’s not the same thing as saying he can beat Vince.”

  “The absorber has been putting on a hell of a show so far,” Gale agreed.

  “Take it from someone who has watched him train: we haven’t really seen anything yet.”

  130.

  “Roy, I’ll admit this is unorthodox, but I’ve been thinking as hard as I can and I just can’t come up with any other way to do this.” Vince was watching his opponent closely, waiting for any sort of surprise attack. “While I don’t want to risk seriously hurting you, I think we both plan to give everything we have in this fight. Neither wants a hollow victory from the other holding back.”

  “Bit of a weird lead-in, but you ain’t off base, so I’m listening.” Roy’s entire body was still, ready to react in an instant if this turned out to be some ploy or trick.

  “Then, if you wouldn’t mind, can you tell me how close that last blast was to knocking you out?” Vince saw the uncertainty wash over Roy’s face and scrambled to explain. “I don’t want to use so much power that I cross the line, but it’s obvious that I’ve underestimated you once already. If you can give me an idea of how close that last shot was, I can use the right amount of power without frying your brain.”

  Roy said nothing for a moment, merely staring at Vince with careful consideration. “You know, if this was a real Hero fight, you wouldn’t have access to that information. You’d just have to keep coming until you got the job done, and if you overshot the mark then your enemy would be dead.”

  “True, but if this were a real Hero fight you’d be a criminal, not a friend,” Vince countered.

  “Guess you’ve got me there,” Roy admitted. “All right, Vince—only because I really want to see which of us is stronger in terms of pure combat power, I’ll do my best to ballpark it for you. This is a guess, mind you; I don’t know exactly how much electricity it takes to bring me down. But based on how that last one felt, I’d say it needs to be four to five times stronger if you want a shot at taking me out of the fight. That’s the other reason I don’t mind telling you: we both know you don’t keep enough juice to manage that sort of attack. Maybe you can find a way to use a similar amount of fire, though.”

  Although he kept a straight face, inside Vince was balking at the number Roy had given. Four to five times stronger than the last attack… did Roy have any idea how much power had been in that first strike? If he was telling the truth, then it was going to take a ridiculous amount of raw energy to bring Roy down. If he was bluffing... there was a good chance Vince might accidentally cook one of his closest friends. But he’d underestimated Roy once already; that wasn’t a mistake he planned to repeat.

  “Mind if I adjust my armor?” Vince asked.

  Roy nodded, and without waiting for more than that, Vince began to peel away the layers of body armor he’d pulled over his costume. Much as it seemed like altruism, and it certainly was, they both also knew that Roy was going along with the request because it gave him more time to recover. That last attack would have left an impact, even on Roy, but this mig
ht buy him long enough to shake it.

  It worked out well for Vince, too. He tossed the armor onto the floor. Against Roy’s strength it was useless anyway, and Vince was going to need every ounce of speed and flexibility he possessed if there was even a hope of dropping Roy. Hard as he’d been working on rapidly summoning stored energy, electricity didn’t come as fast as kinetic, and drawing that much was more than Vince could manage quickly. He wasn’t going to be able to shift between absorbing and attacking for this one. The only chance he had was to summon the energy and land his shot. If he missed, or failed to dodge a single one of Roy’s attacks, that was going to be the end of this fight.

  The last piece of Vince’s body armor fell to the ground, and he took a quick stretch to feel his body moving properly once more. “Ready when you are,” he told Roy. There was still some preparation left to do, but it would have been disingenuous to gather power with the break he’d been given for stripping off armor.

  This time, Roy didn’t bother with being subtle. He slammed his bat into the floor, creating a small shower of concrete chips, which Roy scooped into his free hand as he advanced toward Vince. He was methodical and careful, but a bit more aggressive this time. Seeing Vince’s first big strike fail had obviously given Roy confidence, and he probably wanted to press the advantage before Vince thought of a way to recover. Not a bad plan, actually; however, it failed to take into account the fact that Vince’s electrical supply was nowhere near tapped out.

  As Roy moved closer, Vince’s right hand began to crackle once more. Unlike the first time, he didn’t immediately sling a blast at Roy. Instead, Vince continued letting the power build, focusing on drawing forth as much as he could while still keeping an eye on Roy. The caution proved prudent, as seconds later a volley of hand-thrown concrete buckshot whipped through the air. Vince leapt to the side and dodged, hand growing still brighter as he moved.

  With that one motion, he’d exposed his weakness. Roy now knew that Vince was powering up, and that meant he couldn’t absorb kinetic blows without losing his progress. Suddenly, offense was back on the table, and Roy didn’t hesitate as he bolted in closer, swinging the bat at Vince’s legs. Stepping back carefully, Vince dodged the strike, and the punch Roy tried to throw at his shoulder after. Blocking was a non-option—even a glancing blow from Roy would shatter bone at this point—so all Vince could do was dodge and jump around. It took nearly everything he had, slowing the rate he could draw out electricity tremendously. It was still growing, thankfully, even if it wasn’t as quickly as Vince might have liked.

  Then, it happened. Roy read his movements a little too well, and Vince realized that there was no move that would get him completely free of the impending punch. Thinking fast, moving almost on pure instinct, Vince threw up his left arm to catch the blow. Roy’s knuckles struck Vince’s forearm, and just like that, it was shattered. The pain was incredible, blinding even, but Vince fought through it. He refused to let his effort go to waste, and even as his bones came apart within his skin, he continued concentrating on his right hand, which was glowing a hot white color with all the energy he’d been pulling toward it.

  Bad as it hurt, the injury did cause Roy to back off for a moment. It was a kind gesture, meant to give Vince a chance to forfeit so he could get healing, but Vince merely shook his head in reply. Roy stared at him for a long moment then let out a small snort.

  “Damn it, Vince. You can never make this easy, can you? Fighting through a broken arm, and don’t think I haven’t noticed how much juice you’re charging. Where did all that come from?”

  “Mr. Transport took me to a lightning storm.” Vince spat the words out, not due to anger, but because the pain and concentration had caused him to clench his jaw. “I came ready to fight.”

  “That you did.” Roy glanced down at Vince’s hand, unable to miss the electric glow that was shining brighter than the lights around them. “Guessing that one is about four to five times stronger than the last.”

  “Close as I could get,” Vince confirmed.

  “But that forearm looks like hell, and you’re in a lot of pain. One more blow, and I doubt even you can keep focus.” Roy was grinning now, even as he clearly readied himself for another charge. “Next one to land a clean hit will probably win, then.”

  “Looks that way.”

  “Then let’s make sure the winner really earns it.” Roy blasted forward, launching himself off the concrete and hurtling toward Vince so quickly there was barely time to move out of the way. Vince managed by less than an inch, swinging around to find that Roy had dug his feet in and was coming with another attack from behind. The bat nearly clipped Vince’s shin, and Roy’s punch would have cracked Vince’s shoulder if he hadn’t ducked at just the right time.

  Somewhere in the battle, between the focus and the tension and the pain, Vince had stopped consciously thinking about the moves he was making. Every ounce of mental power he had was directed at keeping the electricity ready; his body was acting by sheer instinct and reflex. A lifetime of training condensed down into a few steps and quick dodges and, amazingly, it was working. He was hanging in there, albeit always by a span of inches.

  When the opening appeared, Vince instantly knew it was too good to be true. Roy was only pretending to have exposed his left side, trying to bait Vince in so he could counter. Yet Vince took the chance all the same. Even if it was a trap, the opening was there and it was the best one he’d seen yet. Besides, Roy still had to move faster than Vince if he wanted to counter, and that was a task easier said than done.

  Vince wouldn’t remember much of the fight’s details when the day was done. Most of the minutia and moments were lost in the fog of battle. But that instant, where his hand was inches from Roy, who was swinging a bat about to make contact with Vince’s right elbow, was seared perfectly into Vince’s mind. In that freeze-frame, either of them could have been victorious. But Vince, now that he was finally close enough to be sure Roy wouldn’t be able to dodge or deflect, was a lone heartbeat faster.

  The room seemed to dim as Roy glowed with lightning, so much coursing through his body that Vince imagined he could see Roy’s bones. It was a tremendous blast; smaller bolts leapt off Roy’s back, hitting the overhead bulbs, causing them to spark and shatter. Like all lightning strikes, it was over quickly. Vince stared at his friend carefully, hoping against hope that he hadn’t done so much damage as to really hurt him.

  “Yup. About four to five times as much.” Those were the only words Roy spoke before he fell over flat on his back, his bat cracking the floor as he landed.

  “He’s okay,” Mary said from nearby. “As fast as Roy heals, I bet he’ll be up and around again before we get a healer down here. But he’s definitely out. You win, Vince.”

  Much as he wanted to pump his fist in triumph, Vince let out the scream of pain he’d been holding in since Roy broke his arm.

  131.

  Dean Blaine was already out of his chair before Dr. Moran’s voice whispered in his ear, letting him know that, while the monitoring devices in the suit were toast, visual systems indicated that Roy was still breathing. As Vince and Mary left the room on-screen, a new figure appeared, stepping through the hole Vince had punched in the wall and effortlessly scooping up Roy’s heavy body. Professor Wordsworth gave a quick wave to the camera—one of the remaining few still functioning after Vince’s lightning storm—and mouthed a sentence no one could hear. Apparently, the nearby microphones had taken damage as well. Thankfully, moments later Dean Blaine received confirmation that Roy Daniels was stable and about to receive healing.

  Only then did he sink back into his seat, pausing to give Titan a small, hopefully discreet, nod of reassurance. Even after Vince’s wall-punching antics, Dean Blaine hadn’t expected to see him whip out so much power against a human opponent. It would have been undoubtedly excessive against anyone else, but Roy had proven he was not a man who went down easily. Still, the amount of force Vince could now use represented a new da
nger, one that might require specialized training if he was to wield it effectively.

  That was a concern for later, however. At the moment, there were still ten students left standing in the trial, although that number wouldn’t hold for much longer. With the team of Amber, Britney, and Violet entering Professor Stone’s room and the others nearing the point of having to turn on one another, the students would begin dropping rapidly soon.

  * * *

  “Why aren’t you fighting me?” They were out of the cell, back in the darkness, but with Mary’s telepathy there was no fear of being snuck up on by anyone short of Chad, so Vince felt comfortable having some lightly whispered conversation.

  “Did you want me to?” Mary asked.

  “Not especially.” The pain in Vince’s arm hadn’t subsided, but it had dulled somewhat as he grew accustomed to it. Between dropping all of his kinetic energy to earn the win over Professor Cole and the ridiculous payload it had taken to drop Roy, Vince was feeling rather drained. Of course, he still had fire and some electricity, but with injuries nagging at him, using those energies effectively would be much harder than normal. “This just seems like a good time to strike, if you wanted the point.”

  “Come on now, we both know that how you get those points is almost as important as the points themselves,” Mary said. “If I picked off a teammate when he was injured that wouldn’t be a satisfying victory for me or anyone watching. Sure, if we were the last two and I had to do it to end the trial, that’s one thing; kicking you while you’re down is hardly heroic, though. I’d much rather keep working together until we have to deal with one another. But I may take the lead on the next fight, since you’re not at the top of your game.”

  That went beyond understatement and into outright falsehood. Vince knew himself well enough to be keenly aware of his limits. He might be able to put up a good fight against a few of their fellow students while this battered, but the vast majority of them would easily be able to overpower him. If they stayed together, he would be a detriment to Mary, not an asset. And there was no way she didn’t know that.