Super Powereds: Year 4

by Hayes, Drew

  Alice had, in training, dealt with Will’s sonic taser. What hit her in that moment made his invention seem like a toy hand-buzzer. The sound slammed into her, through her, making her brain feel as though it had been hit from the inside with a concrete hammer. Her focus shattered as she tried to hang on to her vision, which was steadily filling with spots and static. She’d thought fighting her way through the mid-year test with broken limbs would be the worst pain of her HCP career, but it wasn’t even a contest.

  The sound ebbed away, and she looked up to realize that Nelson was once more standing upright under his own power. Alice’s gravity field had been as destroyed as her concentration, the only reason she could think clearly enough to make him out now was that he’d taken a break.

  “Bad luck for you, I guess. That telekinetic holding shit might work well against most brawler types, but you lost this fight when you drew me as an opponent. My wails can turn your whole brain against itself. But that’s not why I picked the codename Big Boom.” Nelson casually lifted one of his malformed hands and cracked the knuckles. “Let me show you the punch that earned me that name. Or a non-lethal version of it, anyway.”

  With that, he bolted toward Alice, who was doing all she could to try and stagger to her feet.

  260.

  Flying was out. Without knowing the range on that scream, there was no way of calculating whether or not she could get out of range in time, and if she didn’t then Alice risked an uncontrolled fall the next time that noise hit her ears. She might be able to get so high that he couldn’t risk stunning Alice without putting her in lethal danger, but if he got a scream off fast enough, she’d just add fractured bones to her list of obstacles. Plus, she still hadn’t shown off her real power yet, and despite the dire circumstances, she wanted to keep that going through at least the first match. As calmly as possible, which was more than she would have expected with a menacing Super bearing down on her, Alice cycled through her tactical options.

  Without the ability to fly safely, she’d never outrun him in her staggered state, so fleeing was a non-starter. Offense was possible; she could shove him away or crank up the gravity to buy some time, but anything sustained was bound to be interrupted by that horrible noise Nelson let out. The fact that he’d stopped tipped off that he couldn’t scream indefinitely: like any other voice it needed rest. So she could, in theory, start hitting him with small bursts of gravity between the screams, creating distance and wearing him down. It was the safest strategy to use.

  This made it all the more of a pity that Alice had no intention of employing that tactic. If this were a real fight, there would be other factors to consider: civilians, property, the chance for more criminals to get involved. Dean Blaine had said this was going to test them as Heroes, and Hero Alice wouldn’t put others in danger just to play it safe.

  Taking a deep breath, she blocked out the fuzziness in her head and focused on her power, thankful for the practice she’d gotten squaring off against Thomas. This was going to take serious precision, especially in her weakened state, probably hurt like crazy, and then she’d still have to fight Nelson afterwards. On the upside, she expected a lot fewer people would talk shit about Subtlety students in Intramurals if it worked. As the world fell away and only the mad gambit filled her mind, Alice did have time for one final thought.

  Genetics be damned: using a strategy like this made it all too clear that she and Vince were definitely cousins.

  * * *

  “He thinks he’s got this won, doesn’t he?” Vince leaned over to Nick, whispering so as not to give anything away to nearby students. Chad wasn’t back from his post-match exam yet, but they’d fill him in when he made it. Pity he’d miss the show, but it didn’t look like it was going to last for much longer.

  “Pretty girl, using advanced mind tactics, and spouting off about a Subtlety major? Yeah, I think it’s safe to say he’s underestimating her.” Nick, in contrast to Vince, did not keep his voice low. If anything, he was being louder than needed, and more than a few stray glances turned their way. “If this match has a minute left in it, I’ll be downright shocked.”

  “That sort of depends though,” Vince pointed out.

  “You think so? Based on what, how hard Nelson is to damage?”

  Vince shook his head. “How soon he’s smart enough to give up.”

  Although it was close, Nick barely managed to hide his snickering fit beneath a fake cough, taking careful note of all the eavesdroppers who were suddenly looking at Lander with confusion or annoyance. It was a pain, really. He worked so hard on his trash-talk for the few occasions he got to use it, and then the way-too-honest people like Vince and Chad did a better job just by speaking their mind. Vince was right, though. If Alice was doing what Nick suspected, then Nelson was about to learn the hard way what it meant to surrender.

  * * *

  Nelson was racing forward, fist raised for a controlled attack that would injure Alice without risking serious damage, when suddenly he found himself in the air once more. The ground fell away and he spun freely, until he came to a stop looking at the blonde woman. She was staggering on her feet, probably shaking off the last of his scream. It was impressive; not many people managed to come back that quickly. Too bad for her, he could recharge faster than she could recover. Widening his jaw and drawing in air through his skin, he let out another screech, more than enough to destroy her concentration, if not render her outright unconscious.

  There was a wobble in her stance, and then nothing. No drop to the ground, no grabbing her head in pain, nothing. It was like she hadn’t even heard the noise this time. As he watched, her head lifted, revealing a dangerous smile and eyes shining with violence. Stranger than that were the twin trails of red dripping out of Alice’s ears, staining the shoulders of her white uniform.

  “I’m going to leave your left arm free,” she yelled, much louder than was needed. “When you’re ready to surrender, give me a thumbs-up on that hand. Afraid I’m not going to be able to hear you give up verbally right now.” Alice pointed to her left ear, a slow trickle of blood still running out. “Popped both of my eardrums. Blew them out completely, in fact, and it feels like I broke some small bones in there as well. Hurts like a fucker, let me tell you, but it’s just pain. I can deal with pain. I’ve had practice focusing and fighting through injury. You, on the other hand, are a tough guy with the power to neutralize your opponents. Something tells me you don’t have quite as much practice getting injured as I do. So remember: thumbs-up on the left hand. That’s the only way I’ll know to stop.”

  Nelson didn’t have the chance to scream again. He was thrust violently into the ground, slightly harder than any of the other times she’d slammed him before. Was she… picking up right where she’d left off? After being screeched at and popping her own eardrums, she still remembered exactly how much force she’d been using before the counterattack? At least it wasn’t enough to hurt him, thankfully, so the fight wasn’t over yet.

  Three slams later, however, he was beginning to feel the ache. Alice was relentless; she didn’t even pause between attacks. Nelson was like a yo-yo, spinning up and then hurtling down over and over, each time harder than the last. Another slam, and this time his thick skin failed to absorb the full shock. Another, and his joints felt like they’d been knocked out of line. Alice spun him slightly, adjusting his position and sending him down directly onto his legs. The snap of Nelson’s ankle was loud enough to be heard over his own screech, another vain attempt to break Alice’s concentration. Nothing was working. No matter how he struggled, or screamed, or tried to break free, she just stood there calmly – blood running from her ears, a grin on her face, and not a single drop of mercy in those blazing green eyes. She was undeterred, pitiless, and more than a little terrifying.

  For the first time since he’d gotten powers, Nelson understood what it was to feel entirely helpless.

  Another slam, cracking his shin this time, and Nelson gave the thumbs-up with his l
eft hand. Instantly, Victor’s voice sounded over the intercom.

  “Nelson Galloway has given up, making Alice Adair the winner of this match!”

  From below, Alice was still standing there, looking around impatiently. “Hey! Someone come let me know if that counts and I won. I can’t hear the damn speakers!”

  261.

  The reaction to Alice’s victory was markedly different than Chad’s. People were more impressed, yet also more subdued. There was something inherently off-putting about watching a student injure themselves for the sake of victory. It wasn’t that none of the other Heroes had ever pulled similar stunts – far from it, in fact. But these competitors were still supposed to be students. They weren’t yet expected to have the kind of desperate, victory-or-death mentality that led to those kinds of decisions. This was the first time in Intramurals that many of the attendees understood the meaning behind Lander’s nickname. It wasn’t the students’ power that made them nightmares, although that certainly didn’t hurt. No, it was their ruthless determination that made them stand out. There wasn’t a doubt in anyone’s mind that Alice would have beaten Nelson into bloody unconsciousness without batting an eye, and even then it would be hard to argue that she’d hurt him worse than she hurt herself.

  Dean Blaine did his best to look unbothered by the display as possible. Truth be told, he was more impressed at Alice’s self-control than anything. Even in that tough situation, she hadn’t compromised on her efforts to keep those watching in the dark about her true power. And, whether the onlookers knew it or not, she had been quite merciful with her attacks. If she’d used the same techniques on Nelson as she had on Thomas, the fight would have been over much faster. Not that he could tell anyone that, even if he wanted to. Already he could hear “Class of Nightmares” being whispered amongst the others. It was tempting to hope that the next few Lander matches would present cleaner, less monstrous matches… until Dean Blaine remembered that Vince and Shane were the next Lander fighters on the card.

  Mercifully, he had two bouts until another Lander student was up, so Dean Blaine decided to treat himself to a little bit of between-match mingling and a cup of coffee. Perhaps he could ease people’s minds here and there. Being scary was well and good, but he couldn’t have onlookers thinking his students lacked control. Especially not once Vince, the well-known son of Globe, was on the field.

  * * *

  Adam felt his bones shrink as his body condensed, turning from that of a young man into a child once more. He didn’t love the fact that mimicking powers required him to take on the same form as the person he copied; it came with a lot of inconveniences and limitations. Always one to look on the upside, it did mean he could practically vanish from the world if he needed to, though. Once this was all said and done, there was a very good chance that he’d have to do exactly that.

  Quentin was watching him as the change finished. So was everyone else in the room, actually, but for Quentin it had to be the strangest. Watching someone else take on his form always seemed to unnerve Quentin, even if the kid did still stick to task after it happened. Adam moved slowly, being sure not to spook the boy as he held up both of his hands. Hesitating only for a moment, Quentin reached out and took both, clasping Adam on the forearms just as Adam’s hands did the exact same. They were connected now, a single circuit of amplifying energy.

  “I’ll keep the pain controlled, so go whenever you’re ready.” Globe was watching this all unfold with steady eyes, his focus unwavering.

  They’d tried to use the Mobius technique (a name Adam had still not signed off on) without Globe there to block the pain once – and only once. It had been terrible. Amplifying someone like Quentin did always hurt at least a little as the body was forced to accommodate power it hadn’t been designed for, but what they did together made it so much worse. The whole effort had fallen apart in seconds, as both people with Quentin’s shape fell to the ground, writhing in pain. From that point on, they’d learned their lesson: this was a three-person technique, no exceptions.

  With Globe’s assurance in place, Adam set his, or rather Quentin’s, power into motion. Sparks of purple energy crackled along his fingers as he began to amplify Quentin’s ability; sparks were flying off Quentin’s hands as well. This was how they broke the bounds of possibility, how they elevated their small group to such levels that they could take on an army: two amplifiers, with the exact same type of power, raising the abilities of one another in concert. For every bit that Adam was able to improve the potential of Quentin’s power, Quentin could do the same to Adam, the two of them slowly raising the ceiling of how much they could amplify a target’s abilities. It was a precarious balancing act that had taken years to perfect, but they’d had to learn it. This was how they leveled the playing field. This was how a handful of Supers and former Heroes had a chance at beating the forces of a mad billionaire and a corrupt Hero system.

  It took almost two full minutes until Adam could tell they’d reached their peak. Even this technique had limits, as their bodies could only handle so much power coursing through them at once. In the beginning, this had been learned through passing out and rushed healing. Now, both knew when the time had come to discharge. They broke their grip, both so suffused with purple energy that it was literally crackling off of them, and turned to the rest of the group.

  “Who gets it first?” Adam asked. “Remember, once we juice you, you’ll be looking at about an hour before it runs out.”

  Globe immediately stepped forward, to the surprise of no one. “I should be in the first round. If it wears off during our assault, I’ll still be capable of handling myself.”

  Clarissa grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and jerked him backward. Strange, that was more familiar than she usually was with Globe, and for a moment Adam thought he saw a brief look pass between them before Clarissa explained herself. “That’s idiotic for so many reasons. You’re the biggest gun we have, which means we need you in play for the maximum amount of time. Not to mention your mobility is limited compared to someone like me or Joan. We can slip away in seconds if we feel the boost fading and need to recharge, whereas you’ll be stuck there unless you can float off on a rock. It makes more sense to put us first, you last, and everyone else in the middle.”

  “The lady is right,” George agreed. He looked better than he had in years, no longer having to devote himself constantly to decoding a single file. A shower and shave had done wonders for the man. “Clarissa and Joan go first. Persephone and I will take the next round, then you and Gerard for the final burst. It gives us the best chance at victory.”

  Although Globe didn’t look especially happy about the decision, he also didn’t try to pull Clarissa or Joan back as they approached Adam and Quentin. The man trusted his team and listened when they spoke; it was part of why he’d been able to gather them in the first place. Moving slowly, bogged down by the raw power crackling through his bones, Adam laid his hands on Joan’s forearms just as he had with Quentin. “You ready?”

  “For this? Almost never. But we’ve got shit to do, so don’t let me hold things up.” Joan tensed her nerves for a few seconds then relaxed. “We’ve been waiting a long time for this party, so we should get the damn thing kicked off already.”

  262.

  Once the match after Alice’s was over, it was time for Vince to go to the prep room. He headed out from the viewing room just as Alice was returning, giving her a thumbs-up and a wink to congratulate her on the victory. Alice smiled back, and while she’d no doubt gotten her ear drums healed, the twin red stains remained on her shoulders, a reminder of the lengths she’d gone to for a simple win. That level of determination had set a high bar for Vince to follow.

  It wasn’t that losing scared him; his opponents were the best of the current HCPs, after all. No, what worried Vince was the fear that he’d go down too easy, that he wouldn’t be able to match the hunger for victory Alice had shown. He knew he could get to that place: the mindset where things lik
e self-preservation and fear fell away, leaving only the fight at hand. Much of his training this year had been accepting that, learning to fight with full commitment when the Sim civilian lives were on the line. That was against robots, however. Vince wasn’t sure he trusted himself to go that far against living opponents. Every time he pictured it, images of himself filled his mind. The burning version from sophomore year was a frequent feature, but scarier by far was the memory of his own reflection in the windows of the building where he’d held that speedster’s neck during the attack on Lander. There was darkness in him, deep-rooted rage and fear over all he’d lost that came bursting forth as violence. His sessions with Dr. Moran had helped him realize and come to terms with that. What remained to be seen was whether he was in control of that darkness when push came to shove, or vice versa.

  These sorts of thoughts probably weren’t productive right before a bout, so Vince forced himself to think of something else. He mentally cycled through the fights he’d seen thus far, trying to figure out how he would have beaten each of the competitors that had preceded him. This was a practical exercise to get his head in a strategic place, and it also had the potential to be helpful later on. True, they’d been eliminated, but there was no guarantee another competitor wouldn’t have a similar power. The more eventualities he was ready for, the better a chance Vince stood of making it to the next round. He couldn’t take victory for granted; he didn’t have Chad’s track record or confidence. And while Dean Blaine wouldn’t drop him from the program just for losing, Vince knew how many eyes would be on his fights today. The son of Globe, who many thought shouldn’t even be here, had to prove that he belonged in this program.