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chapter 12
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At first, Pixeletta thought that her abilities would be enough to get her anywhere in the city, or almost anywhere in the world, as long as there was an internet connection or some sort of smart phone, as few as those were in the autumn of 2008.

Then she read in the email where she was to meet for a heroic mission. The second closest location was still half a block away, and would require her to run or jog about five minutes before she got there. The actual closest was a mental asylum that the mayor wanted to renovate into a full-fledged hospital wing, and had just recently closed itself off to the world.

Her instincts told her not to try that one, but to remember it for later. Judy had only lived in Paragon City for her entire life, and yet even she didn’t know where everything was, so a sense of wonder and exploration filled her as she roamed the network for hotspots.

It was the long way around, but it took Pixeletta seconds to get to the place she’d picked out for herself. She emerged in a room void of people save for a single man who was wandering off that precise moment.

The room belonged to a store that sold paraphernalia from various shows, games, and movies about worlds without superheroes and villains. Many were without any form of superpowers, though a fantastic use of magic sure came close.

Pixeletta turned her head at the sound of someone approaching from a restroom, and the man was shaking a cup full of ice. The man stopped completely when he saw her.

She waved, “Hello. Sorry to intrude, bye!” And then she left without saying any more.

She ran toward her destination. It took her to some trees where Judy heard a few voices, and a clearing where she saw the costumed figures. Pixeletta stopped to catch a breath before walking over to them.

Walter Dallevan, still in his tailored suit instead of a colorful outfit like everyone else, was staring at the beige building peeking back at the group from just over the trees. He hadn’t glanced at Judy when he said, “Ah, it would appear everyone has come.”

One man barely older than Judy turned his head toward her. “On the bright side, I’m no longer the youngest person here.”

“Quite right, Adamast Cross.”

The only woman in the group said, “The seven of us then? With a group this size, it must be a big deal.”

Walter replied, “Too big, I think. The mayor wishes to keep this quiet, but dealt with. If we had an eighth, this would be classified as a task force and receive countless amounts of media attention as a result.”

“But with only seven?”

“It will never be filed officially, and, in the event of failure, our ashes will be swept under the rug. That is, unless, you wish to back out now. Anyone?”

There was a brief moment of silence before more than half of the group shared the same expression on their faces, and the same woman said, “Fuck that. It’s a party. Nothing says silence quite like a bundle of fireworks.”

“I wish I had more of that kind of attitude in the military. Everyone’s here to stay then? Good, good.”

“So what’s the mission?” asked another man, a hero whose costume included a bright hoodie, but no spandex, though he did have something else on beneath his jacket that was skintight. “There’s a good reason we’re standing outside of a mental hospital at this hour of the night, I’m assuming.”

Walter tilted his head up toward the roof of the building again, and he then faced the group. “Are you familiar with this city’s mental health program? Most cases are helped in a couple of hospitals around the city, such as Founder’s Creek, but the most severe and violent cases without superpowers . . . a great many of them are treated here, across the street from another hospital without such a ward. To the public eye, they’re the same facility, or are about to be if the mayor’s publicity is to be believed. There are about a dozen patients here that must be kept safe and well out of the public view. As such, besides the advanced, well-equipped security patrolling the area, there are shadow personnel hidden among the secretaries and nurses stationed here. The mayor did not specify how some of the patients might need to be kept safe and subdued, without any hope remaining for treatment, but he was adamant about its importance. Then again, who am I who argue about the protection of anyone?”

He studied everyone’s stare. Pixeletta had some questions. Among them was whether or not there was a point. Were they going to stand here all night watching guard against an escape or an imminent threat? Were they going to go in thinking they were being heroes only to find that they were working for a villain all along?

However, Walter said, “As of three hours ago, they have been silent for a whole day. There hasn’t even been a peep from the few men who had gone in to check on the scene.”

The slim hero clad largely in light blue said, “The mayor wanted it quiet, you said.” His voice was familiar to Judy, like someone that she’d met recently.

“Yes, he wanted the silence to be kept quiet.”

“So he hired you to gather a group of the loudest madmen and women in Paragon City?”

“As a matter of speaking, yes.”

“Huh,” muttered everyone else present.

Pixeletta raised her hand. “What’s the plan? I mean, it sounds like we need a way to get inside and monitor the place, find out what happened, and then act . . . by going in, or something.”

War Lagoon, a big man with dark skin, said, “That was a better explanation than what Walt told me on the way here.”

“What we have,” said Walter, “is an above-average psychic with minor healing abilities, a martial artist with invulnerability, a scientist with high proficiency in technology and magic spells, a brawler with ice armor and a few ice trucks worth of sarcasm, a wielder of shadow constructs, my guns and sword-cane, and someone who can download herself into a computer as well as knock out the bad guys with blasts of electricity.”

Pixeletta said, “Oh, I know! Their computer’s still connected to the internet. One of them is, anyways.”

“How do you know this?”

“Never mind that. I can get inside if we can get to a computer with an internet connection. I can at least take a look that way.”

“Going alone still sounds dangerous, so we’ll come up with a plan B for everyone else to join you, and a plan C in case it doesn’t work, and so on. Mortar Mage, what are you doing? This is no time for any phone call or mobile game.”

The hero with the hoodie said, “It’s a smartphone, imported from Sweden and improved with my own ingenuity. I can use it to access any system as long as I know the way in. Problem is, I’m still learning how to hack.”

“And the system inside the building?”

“I found something, but the signal is weak and the security is strong. It would take a while to get in. After that, there’s no telling yet if it’s a nurse station, a surveillance computer, or someone’s personal notebook with only Minesweeper and Solitaire installed while also locked inside a padded room. It’s too bad my bandwidth sucks at the moment, or I’d offer my phone for our friend here to get in there.”

Pixeletta said, “Can anyone help me get to the nearby comic store?”

Pixeletta rode the bandwidth signal until she found the way into her destination. She was sure that the ride slowed down at the end, but thought nothing of it until she was inside of the computer. The signal closed behind her.

Next, she heard the sound of a phone dialing, and an odd screech.

Dial-up? In this day in age? Ha. She contained her laughter as best as she could, uncertain now if her expressions might cause the system she was in to explode from some sort of overload.

Letting the modem try to reconnect, Pixelette scanned her panoramic for a sign of this computer’s function, or a security feed if there was one. It took a moment for her to take in what information she could. The computer was full of documents that had been typed by a doctor, all triple protected by a series of locked folders and passwords: “Furr7Bunn7,” “W01fNig#t04,” “T#irdF00t.” Pixeletta’s instincts told her not to think about what any of it meant.

Instead, she skimmed the documents to see if there was any sign of what had happened to this place or the doctor. The documents were short summaries, dates, and reference numbers, however, relating to patient files. And there was a fourth folder, also protected: “TheWolfram.”

She had barely glanced at the single document within when a message reached her, presumably from Mortar Mage. The identity was unmarked, though it clearly came from another device. The message read: “##########”

Pixeletta wrote back, “I don’t think that was the password entry.”

“Oh good, you’re in. I had to work my magic to get in this time. That was a test message in case someone else was there.”

“And how do you know this is Pixeletta and not the owner of this computer?”

“Touché. Find anything?”

“Well, the documents don’t seem to show what has happened here. What’s a ‘Wolfram Manifest?’”

“A what?”

“Nevermind. I’m looking out of the webcam right now. There’s no sign of life, but I see a flickering light.” Moments passed. “Mortar?”

“Sorry, I showed what you said to Walter. His face turned grim, but he’s glad you’re OK. Is there any chance you can check in on other rooms in there? We need to know when we can enter, and how.”

Pixeletta revolved the topside of her head around the edge of the doorframe, ready to hop back into the nearest computer at the first sign of danger.

There was no one standing or walking, or even sitting, that Pixeletta could see as she ventured toward what she hoped was the entrance. What she saw, however, were a number of bloodied and still bodies along the way. There were moans and bangs coming from behind doors that looked secure enough to withstand a small blast.

Each body made her tremble. Every moan and bang gnawed at her senses. She breathed, and took the journey a few wary steps at a time.

She descended one floor by way of the stairs, and found the front security desk in mere seconds. Pixeletta opened the front door, and collapsed on the first hero who walked in. As if she pent up enough shaking motion in the last few minutes to bring down the faultlines on the west coast, Pixeletta let it all out in a huff now that she felt safe enough to do so.

“Whoa there,” said War Lagoon. He brought down his arms to comfort a sobbing Pixeletta. “Whatever happened in here, it’s over now.”

Pixeletta said, “I’m sorry. I just . . . I’ve never seen so many dead people.”

“Everyone? Are they all dead?”

“No. I think some of the staff was locked away. I don’t know for certain.”

“Alright. You did very well for yourself. The rest of us are going to take a look through the entire facility. If you need a rest, why don’t you—?”

She pushed herself away. “I’m staying. I need to know what happened just as much as you do.”

“You do?”

“We’re heroes. We don’t let things like this happen when we can help it.”

War Lagoon smiled at her. “Very well. But if you need to step outside or leave, you let us know. God knows I’ve seen fresh recruits run from less on their first day of training, or lose their lunch after their first real taste of combat.” He walked past her into the hallway where the stairs were.

She turned to an approaching Walter now that everyone else was inside. As the man walked further inside, she called after him, “What’s the Wolfram Manifest?”

“Sorry?” Walter asked as they strolled through the facility together with Mortar Mage by their side.

“It was in a document I barely got to see. It sounds important.”

“Yes it does. Oh, I’m not sure what it is, but I’ve been trying to piece everything together since the mayor had asked me to take care of this situation.”

“And why did he come to you?”

“He didn’t. Not at first. I told him that I was entering the business of saving lives like the costumed heroes, but without an alter ego. Knowing that I was in the military, and as a man who turned down many promotions, the mayor decided that I was the sort of man who could also keep things quiet while getting the job done.”

“Why do I get the feeling he was wrong?”

“You have remarkably good instincts, do you know that? True, there are situations that do require a level of silence so that people don’t lash out unnecessarily, but I like it more when there is a certain bang to be had. So I should ask you this, ‘What do you know about this Wolfram Manifest?’”

“Only that it’s something let slip by one of the more extreme cases here.”

“Interesting.”

“And here I thought this whole facility was home to the most extreme cases?”

“Yes, that’s what I find to be interesting. Well, that and the increasing smell of something burning up ahead.”

They all stopped. Pixeletta could smell something in the distance as well now that Walter had directed her attention towards it, but to say it was burning didn’t seem right. There was also no glow or radiance as if from a fire.

Mortar Mage said, “Burned, more like, not burning.”

“Let’s go see what it is,” said Walter.

They turned a couple of corners before reaching the room. It was dark until Walter flipped a light switch. Then only the pit in the ground was dark, with singed edges.

"It looks like I'm up," said Mortar Mage. He pulled out a few small devices and activated them. They hovered in the air and lit up. The devices entered the hole in the ground.

Walter asked, "Drones?"

"The best. They will scan the tunnel and send the data to my phone in no time. Should we follow?" As Walter raised a finger to reply, Mortar's phone received an alert of some kind. Mortar checked it. "Damn, it's closed off down there. My drones are still scanning for clues."

Tired. Speechless. Uncertain.

The heroes wandered through the halls of the facility and converged again at the lobby. Judy did her best the whole time not to stare at the dead bodies.

"What will happen to them all?" she asked.

War Lagoon said, "There will be a few conflicting protocols. Someone will need to step in with enough oversight and clout, and help the different agencies decide what to do. Those men and women who lost their lives won't go without a proper burial, or cremation, or whatever it is they require."

"It's so tragic."

"Yes it is."

"I woke up on an autopsy table once by mistake. I try not to think about it too much, but I can hardly imagine what they lost, or what everyone else lost who knew them."

The shadows behind everyone blew like strips of ribbon on a fan in the hallway. The heroes turned to find a woman standing there, her eyes glazed over. Before anyone could say or do much of anything, she spoke:

"Eight shadows begin to form. Seven stand, another yet reborn. The world shifts in your wake. I have seen it."

"A patient, perhaps?" asked Adamast Cross.

Walter said, "I'm not sure. Her garments do not match those of any such patient I have seen."

The mysterious woman said, "The future beckons and twists. You, who tempt fate and frighten those that do not understand . . ." Her gaze moved briefly toward War Lagoon. "You whose powers are so unique, I see that this way is coming to pass. You cannot stop the shadows you now cast."

"Well, if anyone needed a cryptic talk from an unknown woman," said Adamast Cross, "in the middle of the night, in a mental asylum, I raise you a need for winning lotto numbers. Anyone?"

"True shadows are not to be mocked. My kin will not be . . ." She stopped as her eyes widened. "I must go. I am needed elsewhere." She took a step back, the shadows enveloping her, and the mystery woman was gone.

"OK, what the heck was that?"