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Chapter 02
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Nostalgia and time travel had a bite like a stray animal in an alleyway. Ironically enough, an alleyway was exactly where everyone found themselves in the wee hours of the evening. The heroes—Adamast Cross, Psi Wizard, War Lagoon, and Princess Undercut—stood by a strange pillar of blue light. They had seen and used it so many times, but it was still strange. Just like five years ago, and the time before it, the pillar was the only source of illumination in that alley since the two wall-mounted lights were out.

Princess Undercut raised the armband in her possession. A holographic interface appeared around the pillar that only she could see as long as she had this armlet. Other groups had their own ways of accessing the interface, but this was theirs. She used it to find the hideout of the Dallevan League. Then the warp consumed her.

The others followed.

Once inside, the heroes crossed the main corridor. It was then that the computer that maintained the place scanned their DNA and turned on the few lights they needed to keep going forward without walking blind. The walls were metal and fiberglass, and the floor was ceramic tile. Some of the tiles had been etched with runes for luck and protection. The hallway itself was wide enough for four people to walk through it holding hands, not that any of the heroes did such a thing; not tonight, anyway.

“I’m impressed,” said Princess Undercut. “Everything still runs, and the entrance hallway looks like no one has been here. No dust either. That’s really impressive.”

They reached the large room used long ago as the meeting place for their supergroup. They had expected it to be empty except for the equipment or furniture they’d left behind when their group disbanded years ago.

There was, however, someone reclined over the stone table in the middle of the room, and she said, “It wasn’t easy, you know. Especially cleaning the floor when this place’s defense systems try to kill you if you’re not stuck to the ceiling, but so was sneaking in the food day after day, and taking out the trash once a week.”

A light finally came on in the large room, showing Ohm Wire surrounded by a number of boxes, a couple bloody rags, and a pillow and blanket.

“Oh, it looks like I missed a couple things. Sorry about that.” She sounded far more melancholic here than she did in the sewer.

“Ohm Wire,” said Princess Undercut, “What are you doing?”

“Reflecting. This old base has everything except for a proper bath or shower.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She was trying not to think about how much the sewer smelled, and how much the heroes must have stunk by now. “Though, if you must know, a shower costs twice as much as everything else in this base combined. Don’t ask me why that is when it comes to supergroup lairs, I have no fucking clue.”

“That explains a lot.”

“It’s something to do with running water in a secret location, and proper inspection code,” War Lagoon interjected.

“That code might be the embodiment of evil, just like alarm clocks.”

“Why are you here? How are you here?” Princess Undercut asked.

Ohm Wire revealed an armlet like the one that the heroes were wearing. She responded, “I found a dying Vambraceman who’d fallen in battle, and he gave it to me thinking I was someone else. This was before I discovered my powers, but I hadn’t done anything with it until recently. I knew it didn’t belong to the Vambracemen as a group, so I used my limited hacking and trace skills to follow it here thinking I would return it and ask for lodging for a few days. This place was empty, and a few days turned into a few weeks.”

Damn outdated technology and security that Mortar totally helped build. “OK, fine, but how have you bathed all this time?”

Ohm Wire thought back to a couple instances where she stalked some sort of delegate or politician, followed him into his room, and showered there while he was out cold or out on business. One old man came back early, found a young, naked woman in his room, and dropped over from a heart attack the next second; she had the sense at least to call an ambulance before getting away. “You don’t want to know.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” said War Lagoon, “but we still need to know why there is a villain sitting in the middle of our meeting room.”

“And I’d like to know why your security measure extends well beyond the entrance. You even have a room in the back that is nothing but security. And a naughty poster.”

“I asked first.” He managed a bold, serious voice while his lips stretched toward a smile. War Lagoon and Mortar Mage came up with that one, and the idea of such a trap still brought him lots of joy he rarely showed anyone.

“I’m on the run. Someone seriously wants me dead, caught, or both. You have no idea what it’s like. I only steal from, and beat up, the bad guys when I can help it, but doing so in the islands, or even the way I've been doing it, usually means being painted as a villain.”

“David here said something of Nightmare’s Militia,” War Lagoon ignored Adamast’s wince, “You were a part of them, were you not?”

“They took me in, showed me a few shortcuts and survival tips I didn’t know during my short-lived days as a package courier for the different families of the mafia, and they kept me safe from the first wave.”

“First wave?”

“Of the people trying to kill me.”

“Oh, right. It sounds like you made the wrong enemy somewhere.”

“That’s just it. I hardly ever came near those idiot mages except to steal a change of clothes from an amateur coven. How does that legitimize being the Circle’s number one target when everyone else has done worse to them over the years?”

Psi Wizard said, “Ah, the Circle. Always a thorn in everyone’s side.” Princess Undercut smacked him upside the head for his pun. “Ow!”

“Why would the Circle of Thorns be after you specifically?” asked Adamast Cross.

Ohm Wire said, “I told you, I don’t know. I’ve been meaning to find a mystic or someone who could tell me what’s going on, but the only one I was able to contact who wasn’t a member of the Circle turned up dead before we could chat in person. Mugged to death by a random street gang.”

“So you came to us for help.”

“I came here, at least, but this place was abandoned for goodness knows how long. What happened? No, wait, don’t answer that. When the armlet that got me in here began to hum and vibrate, I had very few choices as to what to do next. I had no idea it would lead me to you.” She smiled and gazed into Adamast’s bole-colored eyes. “You never told me you were part of something this big.”

“That was a very long time ago. I was a little younger than you are now. What, why is everyone looking at me like that?”

Princess Undercut said, “A hero and a villain, sweety.”

“What? Look, I knew her mother. When something happened to her, I spent my weekends in Nerva looking for the both of them until her mom contacted me and asked me to protect Kyra when I was able. This was before she got her powers and started beating up the gangs and true villains over there. And . . . we might have gone out on a date before I realized we were too close.”

Ohm Wire said, “Oh. Yeah. I’m still angry at you for breaking it off with me.”

“You certainly showed it earlier.”

“Hush you. I had a bad day. Wait, what are you doing?”

Princess Undercut grabbed a bloody rag from the table and held it up. She said, “Computer, grant access to Ohm Wire. Initiate DNA scan.” A light came down and practically groped the rag. “What? I’m getting tired of seeing this mess on the table with you in the middle of it.” There was a ringing sound. “There, now kindly get down from there before I change my mind.”

When Ohm Wire got off the table, tapping the ground a few times with her foot at first, Psi Wizard said, “How can we help?”

“You’d do that for me?” asked Ohm Wire.

“Well, there isn’t exactly any love between us and the Circle. If there’s trouble, and they’re behind it, then you know it can’t be good.”

“When is trouble ever good?”

Princess Undercut remarked, “I think she got you there, present company excluded.”

Psi Wizard bowed his head, “Yeah, you’re right,” he said, “but that doesn’t make what I say any less true.” It even remained true considering when Rampart rolled with them. That guy love his trouble.

“I think what he’s trying to say is that the Circle’s bad news is worse than most.”

“Yes, thank you. What we need is a plan. We can’t just thump every skull or beat up every apparition tied to the Circle of Thorns until you’re safe. That would be impractical. War, Adamast, do you guys thinks you can interrogate some groups of mages loitering the city for us? Find a scheme—you know the Circle has those as often as the alien invasions, if not more so—and we’ll all go to investigate. Hopefully, that’ll lead us to whomever it is that wants this young lady dead.”

The two men he spoke to nodded and left with a wave. It made Ohm Wire a little sad to see Adamast go again, but she knew that it was necessary.

“Now,” continued Psi Wizard, “Kyra, wasn’t it? Please, take a seat. We know a guy, a whole family actually, who can get us some delicious coffee in the next few minutes. Or tea if you prefer. Does anyone drink that besides David, around here?”

“I’m so glad. It’s nice to meet a willing hero who’s actually kind. You believe me, too!”

“I’m an empath. I only need to listen and feel, and I know when someone is lying or if they really need our help. So, what’ll you have to drink?”

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Chapter 03
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“That was fast!” said Ohm Wire to a now heaving Adamast Cross. “What did you do, run full-force across Paragon before you came?”

Adamast was trying to catch his breath and speak at the same time, but at best he could manage was a nod tilted to the side. The other heroes standing with them laughed to themselves. They were in the Steel Canyon area, and standing outside of a cave entrance.

“He ran around town all night, thrashing the Circle’s members and its associates,” said War Lagoon. “He kept it up through one of my power naps.”

“You take power naps?” asked Ohm Wire.

“Only on days when I’m busy with my heroics. I needed a break, but David wouldn’t have it. Oh, sorry, I mean Adamast.”

“It’s OK. I think only we could hear that.” They were, after all, out in public.

“We split up, but I think he ran past me several times even while I was awake.”

“Hey,” said Adamast finally now that he was able, “I made a promise not to let any harm come to her. I’ve already screwed up in some way or another. Besides, how many of others, hero or villain, can say they interrogated the right guy in less than five hours?”

“There was one man who did it in five minutes. Of course, he got on a megaphone and promised that beating them up would be as quick and painless as possible if they just told him who robbed the ice cream truck and set it ablaze. Funny enough, they believed him, and he knocked out the one who stepped forward while the others ran away like crazy. Then there was another guy who did it in under twenty minutes with nothing but chewing gum and a safety pin.”

“I’m pretty sure the safety pin was the size of several ice cream trucks. Who wouldn’t give up information with one of those swinging at them?”

Ohm Wire giggled at that. Yeah, Paragon was a special kind of place.

“Are we ready to enter, boys?” asked Princess Undercut, “Or are we going to spend all day comparing sizes and lengths? It looks like Mortar won’t be joining us, so we’ll have to go on without him.”

Psi Wizard said, “No worries, I think we can manage. This is Steel Canyon; most of the Circle covens are just lesser mages with a few weaker spirits thrown in. Let’s do this.”

He and War Lagoon were the first to enter, with Princess Undercut not far behind. Ohm Wire unsheathed her claws before entering with Adamast, who had his ice armor on. Something washed over them when they passed the entrance. Dread. Confusion. Someone screaming, “—ait, it’s a trap!” Everything happened way too fast before the entire team was as good as wiped out in the first room of the cave.

“Mistress wants the girl,” said one mage. “Take the rest away. We’ll deal with them later as the mistress sees fit.”

Another asked, “Which girl?”

“The younger one. The innocent one, you fool.”

***

Oftentimes, the Circle had holding cell chambers inside of their dens. The cells were made from rock and mystical coral, as well as a magical barrier that was equally tough to bring down by force. Princess Undercut and the men were each given their own cell, along with a fake skeleton that had been added for effect, but none of the heroes were sure of that at the time.

Their jailer, an unusually large and powerful spirit, swooped down to meet a visiting mage. The mage said, “Mistress requires one of the men to take part in the ritual.”

“Very well,” came the jailer’s raspy voice. “Take your pick.”

“She was most specific.” The mage pointed toward Adamast. “That one.”

The jailer motioned to two smaller spirits, who floated up to Adamast’s cell. They dispelled the barrier, and the hero lunged at them with his ice armor growing back into place. He wailed away at the two spirits until they lost all form and ties to the mortal world. Then Adamast Cross turned on the jailer before he stopped mid-air.

“This one is too much trouble,” said the jailer.

The mage said, “All the more reason the mistress wants him. She wishes to break this one in her own way by making him take part in the ritual.”

“Do what you will. I have other prisoners to watch over.”

War Lagoon shouted out, “Take me! Damn it all, take me!” He pounded on the barrier in his cell and on the coral above it.

“You will be silent.”

Adamast Cross was taken away, his body bound by magic. Princess Undercut shuddered as she had been carried in here much the same way due to her high resistance, and usually impervious nature, to most attacks. She hated being bound and unable to fight back. When Adamast was gone, she winced and said, “How the fuck did this happen?”

“Light and sound barrier,” said War Lagoon. “I know Mortar managed to do something similar for our base in a couple rooms before we disbanded, but these guys did it with magic. Not with technology.”

“You know what I mean, War.”

“I know. I’m just trying not to admit to myself that we walked blindly into a trap set by a much stronger coven than Steel Canyon is known for, and are now in here when we’ve been through worse.”

“We need to save Ohm Wire and Adamast, and get out of here. Then we need to regroup and bring these guys to justice.”

Psi Wizard said, “Let’s concentrate on escaping first.”

“Right. Bust some heads first, and then plan our way out of here while we’re walking out the door. That sounds good to me . . . ah!” She did not mean to scream, but the jailer was face-to-face with her so suddenly.

The jailer said, “I find it amusing that you think you can escape. Many have tried.”

“Many insects maybe. War, how good is your aim from down there?”

War Lagoon replied, “Without looking up your skirt? Let me check.” A dose of dark miasma and even darker tentacles appeared around the jailer. The spirit’s empty eye sockets widened as his essence was pulled down into the unknown. When the unearthly sounds died down, all anyone could hear in that room was War Lagoon’s low chanting. He stopped and perked up. “Only that good. Sorry.” He was clearly holding in a laugh.

“Good job,” said Princess Undercut, preparing to have a boxing match with the barrier on her cell. “Now, let’s hurry out of this place. Oh, and War? Look up my skirt again, and we’re having a serious conversation with my fist.”

***

When Adamast entered the large room, a wicked, and equally sultry, voice filled the room. “Welcome, mortal hero. Oh my, yes, you will do splendidly.” He looked around the room to see where the feminine voice was coming from, but the only woman he could see was Kyra, Ohm Wire. She was naked and tied down to a stone table. “Do you like what you see?” The voice was definitely not coming from her.

Kyra said, “Adamast, no. Run!”

“I can’t,” he said. “Let her go. What do you want with her anyway?”

The booming voice said, “You, a mortal, dare to ask me why I do anything? I have endured centuries here.” There was a crystalline artifact of incredible size overlooking the majority of the room. The voice came from there, as Ohm Wire already found out and Adamast was figuring out now. Then the voice became a deranged whisper. “Centuries. How could anyone dare?” “I will feed again, and wander the land! You, hero, are going to help make that happen.” “The souls, their flavor . . .” “Worms! Release this man from your hold.”

In an instant, Adamast was able to move on his own again. All sorts of questions swarmed inside his head. How many more mages and spirits could he take down before being bound again? Could he reach and free Kyra from here? Could he do something about that artifact? The answers were looking grim as someone prodded Adamast to move forward toward the table. He tried and failed to resist feeling any amount of arousal in seeing Kyra like this.

Kyra said, “Adamast, I’m so sorry.”

“As am I,” he responded.

“Damn it, you demonic hag! Why are you doing this? Why me?”

The booming voice said, “Oh, you young fool. I chose you for revenge on another man long before your time. I chose you for your natural vigor and virgin blood; it’s much, much sweeter than any other. Sadly, my current power is over men. It is limited now, but I can control this one if need be.” The whisper said, “Is it finally time to feed? It’s been so long.” Booming, “Hero, remove your clothes at once. You can do it on your own, or any one of us can do it for you. You should know what I am expecting of you. You are but a mere human, mortal. Your desires and need for self-preservation dictate your every move. You are no doubt thinking of some means to get away.” “Oh, he would leave her.” “Yes, yes! Give in to your lust.”

Adamast said, “Give in to your oblivion!” Then he leapt at the artifact. However, he stopped mid-air and screamed. His costume burned off his skin as if someone had set it on fire, and then he fell back to the ground.

“Stupid mortal. I am giving you a chance at something greater than you have ever known, or may ever experience again. I’m giving you the chance to take it of your own free will. Take her virginity, and be mine for the rest of your short life.”

“Never. She is not your toy.”

“Then you shall be mine.” There was no telling if that was the booming voice or the whisper, maybe both at once, but the terror of it was only the beginning.

Limb by limb, all control of his body was lost. Adamast tried to resist, but he could do nothing more than feel his actions, see what his eyes stared upon, hear everything in the room around him, and act against his wishes. He climbed upon the table, so erect that his consciousness wondered if he could break the table with his dick alone.

Kyra let out another soft cry, “David, no. Not like this. I love you.”

This was not the way it was supposed to be. Try as he might, Adamast could not stop himself from groping and suckling at Kyra’s very fine breasts. Her nipples became erect, betraying her heart and mind to pleasure, and then a mage on either side poured a fragrant wax over them. Kyra screamed. Adamast’s hand moved down her body in a smooth stroke until it reached between her legs.

Kyra wanted to scream and cry, but something in the wax worked at her nipples and through her skin. It added to her arousal in seconds. It was doing something to her beyond imagination.

“Yes,” said the sultry, booming voice. “It is working. It is almost time.” Her voice was gaining in euphoria while Kyra was becoming wet. “It is time, mortal. Take her. Make her mine.”

Adamast stared into Kyra’s eyes, and she into his. Kyra did not want it to happen this way either, but she nodded to him. If anyone was going to be her first, she was glad it was him. That was the end of his resistance, and Adamast pressed his throbbing member into her. Her pain was obvious, but no one could hear her over the moans from the booming voice, or from the chanting mages around the chamber. Adamast started slow with his thrusts then, and Kyra felt her pain slipping away. Her first orgasm started to build.

The voice, more euphoric than before, said, “I can feel it. I can feel this shackle slipping. Worms, give it . . . OH! Yes . . . give him the ceremonial dagger.” One of the mages did just that while Adamast continued to thrust. “I will release your arm. This is your last chance. Surely you feel a fraction of yourself ebbing away. Your life essence is draining.”

He did, but Adamast felt a greater pleasure.

“There is a way to stop this. Quickly. Before she climaxes, you must strike the blade into her bosom. It will complete the ritual. It will grant you life as long as I see fit, a life of endless pleasure. You want that, don’t you? Hahaha, you’re nothing but a mortal, after all.”

The artifact was too far and at a wrong angle to attempt throwing anything at it. Oh, this was cruel beyond words. Kyra knew it and said nothing with whatever she had left of her mind. Adamast Cross knew then there was only one thing he could do.

“Do it, mortal, or I will take over and your life will end with hers, painfully!”

“Adamast! What the fuck?” The shout came from the other side of the room. It was Princess Undercut, and she stood with the others. However, they were too far and too late.

He looked one last time into Kyra’s eyes. “Forgive me,” was the best goodbye he could give. Adamast thrust one more time, only now with the dagger. It went directly into his intended target and flesh. It went easily into him rather than the woman beneath him.

“Nnooooooooooo...! What have you done, you foolish mortal?” The booming voice cried and screamed into silence.

The trio of heroes could hear Adamast say, “You’ve underestimated a real hero,” even with the dagger sticking out of his chest. The heroes at the entrance of the room knew they had to act fast if they wanted to save him or Ohm Wire. Any and all questions would have to wait, especially with the cave starting to shake and the mages running at them.

Princess Undercut ran forward shouting her husband’s heroic name. She trusted him to do what he needed to do, and he did it. Half of the mages froze in place, while the others were slowed down. Princess Undercut went first for the mage she recognized as the one who had bound her earlier, and she performed a bone shattering, neck snapping, roundhouse kick to the mage’s head before letting her fists fly at the other mages.

The artifact in the room exploded into a sphere of light that went as far as the stone table. That light came with two blood curdling screams that filled the chamber. Princess Undercut and War Lagoon did their best to rush toward it, knocking down a number of mages on the way, but then the light and voices faded. The stone table collapsed, with Ohm Wire and Adamast Cross nowhere in sight. The artifact was in ruin. And the whole cave was coming down. The trio failed to save their allies.

A hand fell on Princess Undercut’s shoulder; it was War Lagoon. He said, “We need to go. Right now.”

“What about Adamast and Ohm Wire?” she asked.

“David and Kyra are gone. We can’t let his sacrifice go in vain.”

Psi Wizard had caught up with them in time for Princess Undercut to take one more look at the table. She had no idea what had happened, but she knew there was no more time to think about it. She turned and ran with the men and remaining mages.

Author's Note: Finally, the transformation comes.

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Chapter 04
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Tatiana walked into the base and pressed her palms against her eyes now that the white dynamo mask she wore as Princess Undercut had been taken off. She had used a public restroom on the way here, torn between crying and vomiting. She did not know what caused the latter, but it didn’t matter now. Tatiana could hear the two men chatting in the meeting room.

They were no longer War Lagoon and Psi Wizard, but rather Jeff and Wyatt respectively. Jeff slid the bottle of whiskey across the table to the man sitting next to him. They were laughing for the stories they were telling, and solemn for the old friend they lost.

Wyatt saw Tatiana entering the room, and he said, “Hey, have a drink with us.”

“Maybe some other time,” she said. Tatiana rubbed her husband’s shoulders in passing before sitting on his other side.

“We were just sharing our favorite stories about David. I told him about the time Adamast dragged a crime boss to a rooftop and proceed to cut into the man with nothing more than his snark. When the police showed up to arrest the mob boss, he was mumbling about how much he’d done wrong. Like, ‘Yes, your actions are illegal, but here’s where you’ve really failed.’ And there, everyone was expecting Adamast to beat the mob boss up or drop him from the rooftop.”

Jeff said, “He sure did tell off criminals and villains for their stupidity far more than I did. He was only a kid back then, but no one outclassed Adamast Cross when it came to pointing out the flaws in everyone’s plan, even our fearless leader at one point.”

“What? No . . .” said Tatiana.

“Yeah! Walter didn’t want to pay to have water service added to the base, so he was going on about doing it himself, and having Warren develop a filtration system, so that we could bring in water directly from outside here. How they knew we’re next to a bunch of water, I don’t know, but Adamast said that it’s probably the ocean. A little hole is going to turn into a big problem before anyone could think to patch it up. Then everything Warren had built or improved upon would be submerged in water, our homely decorations would be ruined, and Walter would still be trying to make his little hole in the wall work.”

Wyatt said, “David didn’t always point things out like that, though.”

“Nope. I remember one time when there was talk of the old 50 level system being replaced with a smaller, and somehow more effective, scale he took a sign saying ‘You’re only a 1,’ and started wailing on some gang members who had vandalized the sign only moments earlier.”

“I thought that was a stop sign, and he pulled it out of the ground.”

“That might have been the case. Who knows for certain? But, the gang members spent the next few months directing traffic at that intersection because of the incident. The city asked Adamast to stop pulling cemented signs out of the ground. He proceeded to ask them about what he should do if the hero Signs got stuck in someone's garden again.”

“To this day, I still feel sorry for the villain who had to deal with Adamast and Shade. First he lost a fight to Shade, escaped jail, then ended up fighting and losing to Adamast, tried starting a riot in prison, and then came face-to-face with both of them in his holding cell. One was a cold, hard bastard still making a name for himself, and the other was made of ice. Neither one of them needed to say anything or stay long. The Bloody Falcon had a problem wetting his pants after that. Of course, Adamast went on to pretend it never happened, and I had no way of proving it did.”

“Shade and Adamast in the same room?”

“Chilly reception, right?” said Wyatt. Tatiana smacked him upside the head. “Ow. I had that one coming.” Wyatt smirked as Tatiana ran her hand through his hair and hugged him openly.

Jeff said, “It’s different now. The two of you were together a lot, but now . . . .” He paused when Tatiana slipped off her left glove, revealing a simple, yet beautiful, band on her ring finger. “No kidding. When did this happen?”

“What?” asked Wyatt. “You mean our wedding, or us being together?”

“Both, I guess. I’d have thought that a union between two heroes would be big news, and I would have heard something. For that matter, I would have loved to have been there.” Then again, Jeff supposed he had always suspected there was something between them.

Tatiana said, “We met a couple times before joining this supergroup, as you may remember. I thought he was both annoying and attractive as hell. The first time was when we both joined a team to take down some thieves. I thought at the time he begged to join because he was some newbie wanting more attention than he was worth. Not that I was much better.”

Chuckling, Wyatt said, “No, you were just as new and had to have things your way. Party girl mentality.”

“The two of us were at odds, but we took down those thieves as if trying to one-up each other the whole time. The rest of our team had trouble keeping up even though they ranked higher than we did on that old system. When the night was over, we said some harsh things to one another, and walked away thinking that would be the last encounter.”

“The next day, I went to my day job at the clinic when I saw a young man in scrubs hand a stuffed animal to a patient from pediatrics. I recognized the stuffed animal from the night before, and also his posture when he kneeled down to her.”

“I still don’t know what came first," said Wyatt, "the random kiss or the icy green tea to the face, but I remember her being very confused and storming off without a word.”

“I talked to my father to let me work another coffee cart in the city, and three months passed before I received an open invitation to try out for a supergroup that was looking for members. You remember that day.”

Jeff said, “I do. So then what? I remember the two of you bickering one moment and being inseparable the next, yet still bickering from time to time.”

Tatiana continued. “That about summarizes our time in the Dallevan League. When we disbanded, Wyatt and I were the only contacts the other had left for three years before my mom found out about him and smacked him upside the head.”

“Yeah,” said Wyatt, “Imagine my confusion seeing a Tatiana lookalike hitting me up the head for something other than my bad puns. I think it confused the hospital staff even more. Then she pulled me aside and asked me why I hadn’t proposed yet. I told her I already had plans to do so that night, but also now the family kind of scares me.”

“Did you really tell her that?” She laughed.

“I did. Then she kissed me on both cheeks and said she liked that. A month later, we had a civilian wedding. We swore in public to stay by one another’s side for the rest of our lives.”

“And on a rooftop to die together if it ever came to that.”

“It looks like Adamast and Ohm Wire beat us there. They were too young to go, as was someone else we knew and loved.” Wyatt refilled and raised his glass. Tatiana raised an empty one, and Jeff another full one, to meet his. “To David and Kyra.”

“Salud.”

The men drank while Tatiana set down her glass. She was still not feeling quite well enough to drink. She would have to schedule a doctor’s appointment, though preferably on a day no one in her family was running those carts. She did not need them asking her again when she was planning to have children.

Then Jeff shot a laugh. He said, “I just remembered one time David gave Warren a hard time after he hit on Toyenna.”

“Mortar did what?” the married couple said.

“The two of them, Adamast and Mortar, went to investigate a group of carnies about some mystical weapons that had gone missing. This was in our final weeks as a group. They were seconds from the man who stole and hid the weapons, and the idiot carnie tried to fend them off with a pair of normal handguns. Toyenna flew in and landed on the man, stomping him to the ground. Apparently, it was a bad day for her, because she broke a few bones with her natural weight. But, good ol’ Mortar! He wasted no time flirting with Toyenna in his own, awkward manner, totally unaware of the fact that she was a highly advanced android. One with a growing conscience, sure, but still an android. When she left, and Mortar began to realize his mistake, Adamast said to him, ‘Damn, man, I know you’re a bit of a technophile, but how desperate do you have to be?’ Well, then Mortar chose to defy all reason and eventually tried sending flowers to Toyenna’s only known address.”

Wyatt asked, “Where did the flowers end up?”

“No one knows. By this point it was right in the middle of a gang war that had broken out, and all of the androids akin to Toyenna disappeared. So about a year after we disbanded. I don’t think I ever saw Mortar so upset. We never talked much after that.” A distorted chime echoed through the base just then. It was the sound of someone entering through one of the portals strewn across the city. “Speaking of which.”

Mortar Mage raised his voice from the entrance, “Is anybody home?”

Tatiana shouted back, “We’re in here, Warren!”

Mortar walked toward the meeting room. He was still covered in a few scorch marks. “Sorry I’m late. My girlfriend didn’t expect me, she said, so we made the most of today in Siren’s. What have you guys been up to?” He got to the big room, and saw everyone bunched in one area of the round table with some whiskey and a few somber expressions buried in their faces as they laughed. “OK, a little more seriously now, what happened?”

“We miss you, Warren.” Tatiana managed a smile.

“Right. So, where’s David?”

***

In an estate overlooking the sea, she stirred. Memories of her old life were faint, but present. Then she awoke with a start. The pain in her chest was different. The bed was different. Where was Kyra? Who was Kyra?

David—was sort of name is that?—shook her head. With whatever was left of her memories, she said only a few words:

“What the fuck?”

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Chapter 05
-------------

Disoriented, stumbling every few steps, and grasping through an overload of her senses, David searched for a doorway. She sought a single room in particular. Where was this place? Then she found a light, and a mirror. David jumped back when he saw the horned woman standing before her. Their boobs bounced in unison. She reached for the mirror after little hesitation.

Her boobs were round and beautiful. Her boobs. That was going to take getting used to. Upon peeking down further, David thought to herself So is that. That left the all too important question of what had happened. The last thing she remembered was an unseen force consuming David while the blade of a dagger continued to work the inside of his chest. Then there was Kyra.

“Kyra? Who’s that?” she asked. “Kyra, you idiot. Twenty, daughter of your former colleague, you broke up with her and she still loves you. Then, wait, who am I?” She groped the curled horns above her ears. Her whole body was different. She turned only at the waist. “Wings. I have wings, and they’re small.” The wings retracted when David decided she didn’t want them there. Amazed by this, she tried it with the horns. “Damn, that didn’t work. What about my powers?”

The ice armor and cold air he once used to command wouldn’t come. However, she went back to the bed and found that she could still lift it with one hand as though it were a pizza box. David set it down when the weight on the other end threatened to break the entire piece of furniture with a creak. It would have been a shame if that happened. The frame was made from hard wood, and carved with lots of meticulous care.

On the other side of the door, a servant girl knocked on the door. “Mistress?” she said. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I heard a noise.” She presumed nothing. That would be blasphemy. That would be death, or worse!

David, realizing that she had company—and the fact that she was still very much naked—said while covering herself with a sheet, “What was that? Who are you calling ‘Mistress?’”

“Oh, have mercy! Would you like a greater title? I can—“

“No, no, that’s not what I mean. Why are you groveling behind the door? Please, enter.”

“I cannot, Mistress. No one may enter your room except to protect you, or to provide you with sustenance.”

“Well then, it would be a shame if no one protected me from loneliness while I seek answers to my questions. Enter, please.”

“Forgive my saying so, but your request is most . . . unusual.” She entered the room, cowering her eyes. She was not worthy.

“That’s a start. First of all, you’ve called me mistress. How long have you been in my employ?”

“You were entrusted to us. The master of the estate is away, but he sent us a message yesterday saying to expect a gift. Then we found you this morning on the shore bearing his marks only seconds before they vanished. Being the last serving girl here, I alone had to make sure you were comfortable. One of the men died. Truly, you are the long-awaited one.”

“Died? How?”

“I’d rather not say, Mistress. It was too terrible. The Circle did not anticipate it. Please, don’t make me say it.”

“It’s OK.” The Circle? The girl did wear a robe like they did. David went on, “I’m sorry to hear of his death.”

“I thought my life as I know it was over, Mistress.”

“You look exhausted. It is dark outside. Why don’t you get some sleep?” David needed some rest herself, and time to think. She was in the care of the Circle. This could be problematic, or it could be the most interesting opportunity in a heroic career she thought was over. “What is it?”

“I’m supposed to be standing guard outside your room until the Master returns, whenever that is. Even if I should die before the day comes.”

“Nonsense. You look like you’ll collapse before the sun is up. Do you have nothing outside this room? Here, take my bed.”

“That would be blasphemy. I cannot. Not unless... not unless...” the servant girl’s sobs drowned out any other words she had.

“You have my permission, and my word that nothing will happen to you. Come on.” David lifted the girl, and set her upon the bed. “Have a good night.”

David walked toward a chair that she saw in one corner of the bedroom. The servant clearly wanted to protest, but it was as if she couldn’t without facing a terrible fate. David sat back in the chair and pondered about her situation.

Hours later, David realized that she dozed off, and it was about dawn. The servant was moaning in her sleep. It had an erotic edge to it, but also a sad one. David got out of her bed, and reached for the servant before realizing again that she was naked. The girl stirred awake when David said, “This is so going to take getting used to.”

“Mistress?” asked the girl. “Oh no, I’m so sorry.”

David rested a finger on the servant’s lips. “You’re fine. There is no need to apologize. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I think I wet your bed.”

“You did what? Oh.” She did not expect the sight of vaginal fluids on the bed. It was starting to arouse her even, but she brought that feeling under control. “Are you feeling a little better, at least? Sleep-wise, I mean.”

The servant nodded nervously. “If I may, Mistress, I need to go. I will bring you clean sheets if you desire.” She ran out of the room before David could say another word. David did, however, follow with a sheet, and found the girl outside the door. The girl was crouched and crying, so David wrapped herself around the girl with a blanket over them. She slipped out from beneath the sheet after David was done hugging the servant girl.

“You really are unusual, Mistress.”

***

Later in the morning, the three servant mages sat or stood around the kitchen watching the television when their Mistress walked in. One of the two men scrambled to turn off the television and set down the remote while all three of them bowed on the ground. Even the girl who was relieved of guard duties a couple hours earlier, and gave the Mistress one of her robes due to her wardrobe “being too provocative.”

David said, “Good morning, everyone.” One servant was already proving to take effort, but three? She had trouble ahead of her. “I’ve decided that I’m hungry. What do we have here?” One man shook, and failed to fully conceal a scream. David, however, grabbed from the fruit bowl on the counter. The apple felt odd. “Relax. Don’t let me interrupt your entertainment.” She bit into the apple.

And then spat it out. Wax! She checked the fridge, and found it empty. “Where is the real food?” David asked. Then again, the poor mages looked like they had not eaten in some time.

One of them said, “There are fruit trees outside, Mistress, but we are not to touch them. We are not to touch any food unless you, or the master, command us to do so.”

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”

“Two days! Most mages who are exiled from covens don’t live very long without the order to eat. Please, Mistress, will you bless us to a single meal?”

“What? No! Bless you with a single meal? That is ludicrous. You know what I’m going to do?” All three mages were shaking, possibly on the verge of tears now. “I hereby order each of you to eat three square meals every day for the rest of your lives. And will you turn the television back on?” No one did so. They were clearly confused. David sighed. She grabbed the remote, and turned it on.

The first channel was a boring show about two politically opposing men and their mediator arguing over vigilante rights. This came on every Sunday since an incident had occured when a heroic idol killed a man almost six years ago. Today’s topic was the current state of the hero and villain level system, suggesting that whoever came up with it was a fool; it was the same guest sitting in the same chair as David recalled.

Following that was a couple of news stations covering Talos Hospital. David looked down at her limited attire, and decided she needed to do something about that before going out and being confused for a villain. She continued to flip through channels with cartoons, church gossip, and an outlandish news team—the one that never reported on anything important, and rarely anything real—doing a story on a cult that prayed to cartoons.

“Weird,” David said before changing the channel one last time. “What the?”

Next was a new cooking program with two hosts. One was a former rock star and small-time villain before he lost all ability to use his knee, and he was the host and commentator. The other was the cook—a man with a leather jacket, a white apron, a dark beard, and a white motorcycle helmet with stereotypical Viking horns instead of his usual black helmet that he was known for. Sigurd Volsang, a hero from ages past, was now a star on a cooking show.

David broke down laughing. She said, “No way.” Her laughter was snatching away at her words faster than she could say them. “Since when . . . could he . . . boil water?”

The mages did not know how to react to this predicament. None of their training or orders said anything about a mistress rolling on the floor laughing when she saw something on the television. So they laughed along with her nervously. This mistress sat up and calmed down in time for pyrotechnics to go off in the background while the chef successfully opened a couple eggs. Then she fell forward again with more laughter.

“This is so wrong, and yet so beautiful,” David exclaimed. When the show was over, she turned off the television, and said, “Alright, let’s get something from outside.” Then she strolled outside before any of the mages could think to protest her.

The gardens and orchard outside the mansion was gorgeous. There was no way that this was kept by three or even four people, David thought. But, she saw no one else.

The female servant, Genine, said “Please, Mistress. Have mercy on us. We’ve been using the hired help of teenagers to take care of this place until the master returns so he can see it burn. We had no idea you would have seen it, or we would have burned it this morning.”

“Nope,” said David. “We’re not burning it.”

“But it’s beautiful, and brings life.”

“That’s a good thing. Teenagers, you say?”

“Well, they need work, and no one else would hire them. Are you not mad?” The only response Genine got was a stern look from her Mistress. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I can’t stand it, Mistress. Punish me, kill me already. I beg your mercy.”

“Stop that already.” David sighed. “And stop calling me ‘Mistress.’ I have a name, don’t I?”

The mages glanced at one another. One said, “My apologies, Mistress, but we were never informed of your true name. We assumed that we were not worthy.”

David glanced down and held up her bosom. “I suppose David won’t do. Not when I’m like this.” She let go, and smiled at the mages. “Call me Mary.”

Genine said, “Oh, great Marylesquedoth—“

“Uh, no. Please. Just Mary, or Maryann. I always liked that name.”

“You truly are unusual, Mistre . . . Maryann.”

“There, now it’s settled,” said Maryann. She could get used to that name as long as she needed to. “Let’s see. I know Genine’s name. What about you two?” She reached out, and the two men shied away in fear before holding still, still shivering. “What? I won’t hurt you.”

“My pardon, M-Maryann,” said Genine, “but that was how our fourth died yesterday. No man can touch you without losing his mind, and . . . and wanting to have sex with you. It was too much for him, and you devoured his essence in your slumber.”

“I did what?” Then the answer hit her. It sunk her moral fiber. “That’s right, I’m a succubus now. How do I know that?” She examined her hands and robe. “It is strange. I’m still me, but I do not have all the same memories. Everything that happened after my awakening, I know, but everything before is different. That defiant hero! I was trapped in that artifact, and he sacrificed himself instead of the girl! But I’m him. I remember growing up as him. His ways are mine now. What is this? This isn’t right. This isn’t right.” Maryann fell to her knees on the grass. “I’m supposed to be all me, not . . . me.”

That light had enveloped Adamast Cross and Ohm Wire. It was supposed to take the girl, and she was supposed to devour his essence once his mind was lost to pleasure. Maryann was supposed to be free to roam the earth and feed on men like she did centuries ago. Maryann? What sort of name was that? She picked it. She liked it as David always had, and she picked it from a childhood David once knew. But it was the name she was born with. Another name echoed in the back of her mind like a faint voice in the end of a cavern when there was a howling wind outside.

Then she screamed.

“Mis-Maryann?” called one of the mages.

Maryann covered her face with her hands, and stood. She took deep breaths; she did not count how many. Then she looked upon the mages. Maryann said, “This is only temporary. Imagine your mind sharing two sets of memories, but you can only access one at a time. Yes, I can work with this. Now, about this food we have. Take a piece of fruit, and enjoy its nectar. And hand me one, please? Anything. There is much I would like to try. There is an errand I would like you three to run, when you are ready.”

***

Wyatt slipped into bed at home, finding that his wife was helping herself to a plate of fries with honey. The fries looked extra salty again, like they had for the last couple weeks. He was not about to question it.

Tatiana, however, asked, “What did you learn?”

He replied, “Huh? Oh, the hospital is going to be closed a couple days for reconstruction. Again. I’ll have to work at Founder’s in the meantime. Luckily, no one was hurt that I heard of. Even the cancer patient I told you about the other day seemed fine, far more than usual. It was mind boggling. When I left, they were running a final test to confirm the impossible.”

“What do you mean impossible?”

“Cancer doesn't cure itself. I mean, in theory it can with the right natural treatments, given the right case, but not in a single afternoon from such an advanced stage. And, villains are not known to heal the sick and wounded. I could not, in my profession, get involved right then. Not in any capacity I wanted to.”

“Well, you’re home now, and it’s time to relax.”

She was right. It was a long weekend, and they were going to snuggle with what was left of the Sunday afternoon while the sun was going down. The news on the television showed a reporter talking outside of the UHOW—Unlimited House of Waffles—in Founder’s Creek. Wyatt turned up the volume so he could hear it and sate his curiosity.

“No one knows, John,” said the reporter. “All we know is that some Circle mages entered this restaurant a couple hours ago, and half of the costumers fled. There has been no sign of violence or threats, and the law enforcement and heroes are on standby. No one wants another incident like in Talos this morning.”

Just then, three mages walked out. One of them cheered, another wielded some sort of sacramental staff, and all three carried to-go boxes. They spotted the camera, and walked toward it, in a phalanx around the reporter who was trying to hold his professional ground.

One mage, a male one, wrapped an arm around the reporter and said to the camera, “Hey, this food is awesome, and Maryann is the best mistress ever!” He walked off, shouting another “Woo.” The other male mage kissed the reporter on the cheek, and followed his companion along with the female one.

Wyatt and Tatiana gaped. What could anyone say to that? Then they received a message on Wyatt’s phone. It was from Jeff, who had finally given them his number, and they theirs. The message read:

“Please tell me you’re watching this.”

Author's Note: The next few chapters, save for flashback scenes, take place about the same time as a major event in Minikisa's "Of Heroes and Villains." I recommend giving her series a read sometime if you have not done so already. When we were both writing our stories, this was the first of a couple overlaps that had occurred, but you do not need to go read her first story to understand this one.

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Chapter 06
-------------

A number of people, including Wyatt’s own family, always argued that hospitals were among the worst places for an empath or other psychic to be. However, that was why he loved working there. His mind could do so much, and he got so much practice tuning things out when it became necessary.

Doctor Wyatt Brooke walked through a hall—familiar by design, but different by the mere fact of being in another district of the city—to find a child pouting in the testing lab for blood work. He walked in, knowing the story all too well, and he smiled at everyone present. “Got ourselves a little fighter?” he asked.

“We don’t need any commentators, doctor,” said the nurse trying to administer the needle so she could draw blood. The most she’d managed was the rubber band around the arm.

“I’m here to help.” He knelt by the boy. “Hey there, what’s your name.”

“I’ve said my name a hundred times,” yelled the kid. “Just look at my chart.” Wyatt could only guess where the kid had learned his attitude from.

“Well then, how would you like a cool nickname? Like the Centurion of Founder’s Creek. No? Then what sort of name would you like?”

“I want to be like Princess Undercut.”

“Timmy!” urged another woman in the room, likely his disapproving mother. “You’re a boy. You should like boy things, or male role models.”

Oh, the things he wanted to say that would have made this woman’s head spin faster and harder than any carousel that Wyatt had ever heard of. He thought about the best thing to say then and there, continuing to hold the kid’s attention, continuing to sooth her mind without causing a major scene.

“You could always go with something like the Lotus Kick. Fight as hard as you need, and keep them guessing to the end.” And a lotus is a flower besides.

He had Timmy’s attention long enough now, who then said, “That’s awesome! You might be my favorite doctor ever. Why does my arm feel so . . . Whoa!”

“We’re done, we’re done,” said the nurse, getting ready to extract the needle.

“You tricked me.”

Wyatt put a hand on the kid’s head. He said, “You will thank me when you’re older and you are ready to take on the world. Look, see? The needle is all gone. You know what else?”

“What?”

“Watch.” Wyatt wiped away the cotton ball on the kid’s arm. The puncture wound was gone. Timmy looked back up in surprise, but Doctor Brooke pressed a finger to his own lips. They glanced at the overbearing mother, who was too busy talking to the nurse to notice, then Wyatt rubbed the kid’s head and left the room.

He loved the pediatrics unit. Even in dire situations, he could liven the spirits of everyone around him, except for those exceptional parents. It helped to make a difference, and making a difference helped him from losing his mind like his father had done.

Wyatt walked past another room, and swore that he spotted someone staring at him out the corner of his eye. He looked back inside of the room a second later, but the person he thought he’d seen was gone. Alright, maybe I’m still going to lose it. Thankfully, not as much as someone else was doing somewhere else in the city. He could feel it. It was as if some villain threw sonic explosives into the hospital, and then nothing. Nothing at all.

Doctor Brooke examined his surroundings. Everyone else went about their business like nothing had ever happened, but he could not feel them. He could not feel their emotions or minds. He hadn’t felt this lost in a long time.

Finally, someone screamed in a nearby room. He ran.

***

Tatiana rolled her shopping cart to her car with another week’s worth of groceries, plus a treat she’d found. Her favorite fruit pops were on sale. However, walking through the parking lot, she could not help but think that if it weren’t for the cameras and live witnesses all over the place, she would have teleported home with these groceries rather than taken up gas or dealt with traffic. It was too late now, she resolved.

Once the bags were in the back seat, Tatiana closed the door, and was startled by a pale, white-haired reflection standing behind her own. Tatiana turned, ready to defend herself and attack if need be, but she saw no one there. She turned again, and the reflection was gone. Her entry into her own car was a trepid one. She was confused as to what that was that she’d seen, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out. She could have sworn she knew that face of the girl she had seen.

No, now was the time to head home. She started the car and left the parking lot.

A few minutes later, Tatiana had been driving along the road like normal when she was forced to slam her breaks. Her car stopped within inches of a man who’d appeared out of nowhere. The man was out of breath and wearing a costume. Not really caring if the man she’d almost hit was a hero or a villain, Tatiana honked her horn.

“Hey,” she shouted, “What’s the big idea?”

The man looked at her perplexed. He asked, “You can see me?” He had spent so much time running around being practically invisible. The Hard Wind only wore a costume out of formality. Well, that, and he loved the feeling of skintight outfits.

“Um, yes?”

“That shouldn’t be possible. My power is much too important for this. Well, I suppose it can’t be helped.”

“Can you at least get off the road?”

“Oh, certainly. I think you showed up not a moment too soon, my dear.” He got into Tatiana’s car, leaving her to wonder why she didn’t lock the door. “Baker and Sixth, my dear. Let’s go.” The Hard Wind then rapped a beat on the dashboard.

After a stern look toward the costumed man, a glance at the groceries, and another cold look at the unwanted passenger, Tatiana said in Spanish, [“You better be a hero, or I’m kicking your ass.”]

Tatiana drove on. The ground rumbled every so often, and she spotted more examples of metahumans losing their powers. Some people were arguing vehemently by car wrecks and a demolished fountain. At that instant, she noted once again to herself that she should have just teleported to the store and back.

***

Jeff directed another construction worker to replace a broken tool. That was the second power wrench this morning alone. It was going to be a long Monday, but Jeff was not going to be beaten by it, even if the entire mob family running Striga Island decided to rain upon the whole site.

“Do you go through those often?” asked the architect, who was present today, blessing everyone with a nasally voice. Jeff felt sorry for him for that.

“Not usually,” said Jeff.

“Oh, so a bad day then. It will pass.”

“Faster for some than others,” he muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing. Let’s not call it a bad day just yet. Bad energy begets bad energy, and we have a good job ahead of us. Let’s continue your survey of the progress we’ve made before the whole building gets finished.” Of course, there was no way that was going to happen today or tomorrow if everyone on the crew was both a speedster and capable of super strength. They only had the foundation and most of the frame up.

He walked with the architect who’d designed this project when, seconds later, Jeff spotted a pale figure far off to his side. It was a girl staring right at him. Jeff glanced over for a better look, but then his attention was taken away when someone shouted in general for everyone to look out.

Something fell to the ground from up higher than the building they were constructing. When the dust cleared, Jeff saw that it was not an object but a person. It was the villain Trash Knuckle, a hulking man known for brute strength and a foul stench.

Jeff yelled out, “Someone call for an ambulance, now!” He ran to the fallen man next, and knelt by him while trying to ignore the infamous odor. However, the smell was nowhere as bad as Jeff remembered from his last encounter as War Lagoon. At least the man was alive, villainy and heroics be damned. “You try to stay calm. Everything’s going to be alright.”

“You waste your efforts on me. I’ll crush you and everyone you care— ow!” Trash Knuckle yelped when Jeff pressed his head back down.

“Yeah? Well maybe that’s why you’re always getting caught and taken down by the heroes. Try a little restraint for once in your life, and let me help you.”

“You are as stubborn and foolish as a hero, yourself.”

“Stay with me now, and you will be just as alive in no time.”

***

None of his fire summons were working! Mortar Mage walked through the base trying over and over to make fire appear in his hands. This level of magic, and higher, was second nature to him, but nothing happened. Nothing, that was, until he got to the meeting room and passed the table. He had a flame in his hand, albeit a small one. He walked away, and it was out. Mortar stepped back toward the table to find the fire reignite. After a few simple gestures around the table area, and finding the flame to be at its strongest near the ceiling above the aforementioned furniture, he spoke aloud:

“Computer, what is going on?”

A feminine voice replied, “Unable to process small talk.”

“No, my powers. What is going on with my powers?”

“Field: unknown. Unknown: unknown.”

“Helpful as always. Is this base under attack?”

“Unknown.”

“OK, is this city under attack?”

“Unknown.”

“What about the planet? Is any field greater than Paragon under attack?”

The computer paused as if to calculate. “No.”

Mortar Mage said, “Just the city then. Computer, scan the city for cause of anomaly.”

“Unable to comply. No such utility installed.”

“Oh, right. I meant to do that. Just how many unfinished projects did I have before we all left?”

That wasn’t meant for the computer, but it answered anyway. “Four hundred. Ninety. Seven.”

“That many? Well then, I’ll have the list on my desk by morning.”

“Number 283: build work desk with lasers and overhead. Disco ball.”

“That was supposed to be a figure of speech, computer. Oh well. I suppose I should act fast. I know what project I’m working on first, and there’s no telling how much time I have left before this anomaly ends. Computer, where did I leave my work equipment?”

***

Maryann wrapped her head in her hands. Her wings were out, and not retracting. They had been this way for over half an hour now. Out one window, Mary could see the blackout that now affected Founder’s Creek. Something was wrong, and she wanted to do something about it. But what? She paced about one room of the estate when Genine entered.

“Mistress Mary,” she said, “What is troubling you?”

“Have you ever felt like you were supposed to be out there, doing good for the world? I feel like I should be in costume. No, I know I should be one of those heroes out there.”

“That is most unusual, Maryann.”

“Heroes and villains usually are. But, I was a hero and not a villain before this, right?” Her old human memories continued to struggle for room inside of her head. Right now, the older, more powerful memories as a demon slumbered, allowing for her humanity to act. “Yes, I’m sure of it. I was Adamast Cross.”

“Forgive me, Mistress Mary, but Adamast Cross is a man, and you clearly are not. I-I mean no disrespect.”

“You’re right about that. I’m still getting used to it, but I have this gorgeous female’s body now. And . . .” Maryann collapsed on Genine, “And I feel so drained. Why is that?”

“Mistress?”

“It feels like I held a couple shields against a bombardment of cannon fire for so very long. Ooh, pretty lights.” The candle lighting in the next room was starting to make her giddy. “You’re shaking, Genine.”

“Please no, Mistress. We were hoping there would be time before this happened.”

Maryann pulled herself away. “What do you mean?”

“You need to feed.” Genine walked toward the kitchen. “Max, Sean, it’s time. Mistress is in need.”

“I’m not hungry, though, I just feel a little drow—whoa! What was that?” Her insides rumbled, and Maryann noticed something else. Her skin tone was changing from peach to red. Her demonic memories stirred, but the human ones held on. “Genine?”

Genine covered her mouth with her hands. She looked sad and frightened. She inched toward her mistress, and guided Maryann to her bed chamber. Maryann sat down on her bed, and Genine waited inside her room against all of her teachings until the other servant mages arrived with two other men who barely had any clothes on.

It was then that it clicked what was going on inside Maryann’s head. Her succubus power was draining too fast. It needed to replenish, which meant feeding on the energy of men. The thought made every part of her quake.

“I can’t do this,” Maryann said.

“You have to,” said Max. “We feared this moment because of what it could mean for us, but you have to. If you don’t feed within the hour, then you’ll lose your mind.”

Sean said, “If you don’t feed on these men, then . . .” He wept in fear. “Please, Mistress Mary, we don’t want the alternative to happen.”

Maryann asked, “Where did you even find these men?”

“Hard criminals, Maryann. Each of them was guilty of unspeakable crimes, and preserved through magic until needed. They are not yet fully conscious, because we are holding them here. Once Max and I are outside of this room, they will know only that they stand before a beautiful woman that they cannot resist.”

This made Maryann turn her head in shame. Thoughts raced through her head demanding that she toyed with these men until their final moments. There had to be a better way. Her conscience kicked and screamed. The demonic memories of pleasure and lovemaking bobbed at the surface of her soul.

Genine crouched by her and said, “Maryann, will you not accept this offering?” The poor thing held back her tears as best she could, but if only she knew the power of words. The power of a question when all feelings and actions teetered on a string. “Mistress?”

“Leave them, and get out.” Her heart sank, and the demonic memories took over. “Now.”

All three servant mages scrambled for the door, but they made a terrible mistake. The door was closed before Genine could get out, leaving her to bang on the door while the others were outside panicking. She turned to find her mistress disrobing herself, and the two prisoners becoming aware of their surroundings.

“Genine!” said Max. “We can open the door for you if you think you can make it.”

She cried back, “No! Don’t do it. It’s too late.”

Maryann, in all of her naked glory, pointed to one man. The demon had taken over, but her pesky soul and feelings on the matter continued to pout in the corner. This had to be done. It was best to get it over with. The first man was already approaching with a grin on his face while she slipped a pair of fingers along her slit.

The first man was no gentleman, and he wasted no time slipping his member inside of the mysterious horned woman. Upon touching her, he lost himself in unknown pleasures and desires; the kind no human being could ever know. And he began thrusting. Deeper and deeper. The man she’d chosen could not hold back.

Meanwhile, the second lifted the screaming girl by the door. “Hey you, let’s have a little fun while we wait our turn,” he said. “Have you ever had a real man?” The second man grabbed for the girl’s breasts under her shirt and robe. Her screams only turned him on more, but then the other man yelled.

Maryann was a succubus, more powerful than any that had walked the Earth in hundreds of years. The man inside her shot load after load of life energy, unable to stop until it was too late. A remarkably potent high washed over Maryann, and it increased with every burst and every thrust. All reservations about this being wrong made a leap for the window seconds before the first man rolled and fell off the bed in a yell. His body turned to dust.

Inside what was left of her mind, Maryann knew what she had done. She knew she would remorse. However, it did not stop. It couldn’t. The rest of her cried out for more while she laughed like a lunatic.

Her second offering pointed at her in fear and anger. He broke away from Genine as if hoping to find sanctuary inside of the adjoining restroom. In haste, Maryann whipped around behind the man, and he fell back into her arms. His willpower broke while she said, “Is your evil nature not working out for you? Here, let me make it all better!”

Maryann threw the man onto the floor, and pounced on top of him. He was turned around and reduced to a sex toy in seconds. She slipped that cock inside of herself, feeling like a transcended being upon being impaled. Maryann ground her hips into the man, played with her breasts, and fell back when the pleasure exploded from within. The burst of pleasure held for a time before coming back down, but not before the man climbed on top of her and continued trying to dig deeper into her flesh with his own. His grunts got wilder. A second orgasm threatened to go off like a bomb inside Maryann’s torso that was doomed to spread everywhere. She lost herself in the feeling, in another high. That was the last she saw of the man, because he was as dead as the other one when her still-aroused mind came to.

Genine cried by the door. It was locked now, and the guys had fled. She felt the need to play with herself in spite of her fear. She was tempted to betray a promise she’d made long ago. Then she saw her mistress standing over her.

Maryann reached down to her, and said, “Here, let me comfort you.”

The mistress pulled up her servant, and carried her on the bed. No sooner had Genine crashed onto the mattress than the mistress joined her. Maryann kissed Genine. Fear and the need for pleasure clashed. She screamed out.

But there was nothing the servant girl could do except give in.

-------------
Chapter 07
-------------

In the city of Paragon, heroes are often allowed to take part in the interrogation process of prisoners and suspects in a police station. Such interviews are catalogued and archived in a remote location over time. In the course of eight months, lasting until five years ago, one supergroup made its mark on the criminal network. These are but a few of those cataloged stories.

***

The camera had been placed behind the one-way mirror for protection. It faced a moderate sized room with a single table and, today, two chairs. The suspect sits in the one facing the door to the camera's immediate right. The same door opens to admit a man dressed in dark blue and white. Records indicate that he goes by Psi (pronounced “Sigh,” and you will) Wizard.

Psi Wizard sits down in the other chair with a serious facial expression, perhaps too serious and possibly fake. The suspect stands his ground with a more serious expression and attitude. The hero taps his fingers in a row upon the table; the other man holds his head high. Both remain silent for a time.

Slam! Psi Wizard pounds the table, and stands up. He says, “That’s it.” He walks to the suspect. “Sit in my chair.”

“Wait, what?” says the suspect.

“You heard me. You sit over there, I’ll sit over here. Go on then.”

Confused, his first suspect sits nervously in the chair closer to the door. He glances briefly at the mirror and then back at Psi Wizard.

“Let’s play a little game,” the hero suggests. “Do you like roleplay? Well, that’s OK. All you have to do is pretend to be me, and I’ll try to be you. Go ahead, let’s try it!” He crosses his arms with a mean face more exaggerated than the last. After a moment of the other man struggling to say anything, Psi Wizard says, “What the hell sort of hero are you? You think you could just walk in here an expect me to talk just because you wear a cape?”

“I-I . . . yeah! You better talk . . . punk?” says the suspect. He shakes his head, shrugging at the camera.

“Do your worst, I’m never talking. You can’t make me. Holy shit, I hate your pig-loving guts.” The hero edges on hamming up his performance.

“T-too far. You’ve gone too far. We just want you to talk.”

“Yeah? What are you going to do about it? You gonna make something of it?”

“Y-yeah! It’s what we heroes do.”

“Damned costumed bullies.”

“Tell me where the body is!”

“What? What body?”

“The body! What did you do with it after you got high on heroin and killed your . . . ! O-oh God.” The suspect collapses in his seat. “What have I done?” His face flushed.

Psi Wizard says, “And I’m out,” having returned to his real persona. He looks at the mirror. “He’s all yours.”

Then he walks out, humming, while the suspect sits looking stunned.

***

It is the case of War Lagoon and smalltime crook Vinny “The Hook” Shapiro, a man named for his short tempers and sudden, hard swings of the fist. Vinny enters the room to find the hero sleeping in his chair. Curious, and a little insulted, Vinny reaches across the table.

War Lagoon’s head juts up, and he screams, “Aah!”

He is followed by Vinny screaming, “Aah!”

“Aah!”

"Aah!"

“Aaaaaahh!”

Dark tentacles appear beneath Vinny, and wrap around him. Then the crook is banged against the table a couple times before the tentacles swing him across the room against the mirror. Little of the room is visible around him due to the position of the camera until he slides down.
War Lagoon says in his deep voice, “I need to do something about getting more sleep.” He walks in and out of the view toward the door. “I’ll be right back. Where’s that coffee?”

Vinny says, “Please no. I’ll talk.” Then the tentacles disappear, and he slides down from the camera view. “Hello, anyone?”

***

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YYOOOUUUU...” Mortar Mage and Adamast Cross get done singing on one side of the table while the suspect on the other side holds his hands over his ears. The suspect, being questioned for his possible involvement in a grand theft auto ring, is known for holding out on information for weeks at a time, even before a lawyer steps in.

Mortar, who had been playing an acoustic guitar, says, “So, think she’ll like it?”

The other hero says, “You know, I think computers can be programmed to like just about anything.”

“I’m talking about my new girl. And I was asking our good man over here. What do you think?”

The suspect says, “I think your singing is awful, and no one would date you like that if you wanted them to.”

“That’s too bad. Well, I like it, and we have time before your attorney gets here. Who here knows the lyrics to Tacky Taxi?” His hand strikes some guitar strings in a chord. In no time, he starts playing and singing again.

With a smile, Adamast smacks his palm against his own forehead. He occasionally sings along, but mostly nods to the music.

The suspect bangs his head on the table.

***

The man being interrogated is a known drug dealer. The police have been trying to track down and shut down his supplier for the last two years to no avail. He sits in his chair looking smug, because he has been here before, and no one has been able to get him to cooperate thus far.

Princess Undercut walks into the room. The door barely closes when she skips past the table, and walks to the mirror. She flashes her boobs for the camera, then pulls her top back down and proceeds to walk back to the door. When she opens it, the dealer speaks:

“Hey, wait a minute. Don’t I get a peek?”

The heroine turns her head, then replies, “Not if you don’t talk, sweety.” She leaves.

***

War Lagoon is doing some aerobics off one side of the table, and the new suspect in the drug case is staring absolutely stricken.

“Hey man,” said the suspect, “You alright?”

The hero says, “Huh? Yeah. Just trying to stay awake.” He runs in place and starts throwing punches in the air.

“Not much sleep last night or something?”

“Not much in the last three months. The problem is, I love both my jobs. It eats into your hours of sleep after a while.” Now he starts doing jumping jacks.

“I think I can help you. I know a guy who knows a guy. He can get you some crack.”

War Lagoon slams the table. “Some crack? Is that what you think of me? Do you see my skin color and automatically think ‘This guy just needs a good hit,’ huh? I’ve eaten punks like you for breakfast while serving in the military. Now drop and give me twenty!”

The alleged dealer falls off his chair.

“One . . . I said one!” War Lagoon continues to shout at the man, who now proceeds to do push-ups. “Two, three, four. Four!”

“Please, forgive me,” the dealer begs. “I’ll never sell again. I’ll give you information on my provider if you please let me go.”

“Augh!” War Lagoon storms out of the room. When the dealer collapses, the hero pops his head in again, and resumes in a calmer voice. “By the way, you’ve got good posture. Try staying in shape more often. Bye.”

***

Walter Dallevan walks into the room wearing a fine suit and a bowler hat, and he carries a suitcase. Walter sits across from the heir to a suspected crime family. First, Walter takes off his hat. Then he just folds his hands, and remains silent.

Ricco Adamoli, heir to the family and wanted for questioning in up to seven burglaries and a drug ring, looks around the room and then at Walter before asking, “Where’s the usual girl?” He let Walter shrug, and Ricco leaned in closer. “Never mind. Hey, listen, I had no idea I was being set up. I always thought my little brother was jealous of my good looks and conquests, so I won’t be too angry with him if you help me with another technicality.”

“Really, now?” asked Walter.

“Of course. I mean, sure, I might have whacked a few of our own guys when they wouldn’t make the necessary withdrawals from a few banks, and, sure, I might have planned the knock-over of a few shops outside our racket, but I’ll put in a good word for you if you help me get out of here. Maybe even slip you a few bills to treat your lady to a fancy dinner. What do you say?”

“This is some offer. There is just one problem. I’m not your lawyer.”

The door opens behind Walter. A woman steps into the room, saying, “Hi, not another word.”

“She is.” Walter points to her with a thumb. “By the way, this room has wonderful sound equipment, and there is a camera on the other side of that one-way mirror. But, you should have known that already since there’s a sign outside the door.” Walter gets up.

Ricco looks furious and confused. He says, “What’s with the suit and briefcase? Who are you?”

“I always dress like this when I can help it.” Walter lifts his suitcase. “This happens to be my sandwich.” He then walks to the door with the case and his hat. Walter tips his hat at the lawyer. “Ma’am.”

***

“Aren’t you going to say something?” asked the latest suspect in the ongoing drug case.

Psi Wizard, reading a medical journal, says, “Huh? No, I’m just waiting.”

“Wait all you want. I have nothing to tell you. You’re just wasting your time.”

“Full of ourselves, are we? I’m not waiting for you. I’m waiting for the hero who’s supposed to be interviewing you. She’s running a bit late, you see.”

Behind the suspect, a woman appears through a sparkly teleportation. It is Princess Undercut disguised in dark, gothic clothes. She sneaks behind the suspect and has a low growl. She is also baring her teeth like a vampire.

“Oh, here she is now,” said Psi Wizard with a smile.

The suspect turns his head to find Princess Undercut in close proximity to his neck. He falls and exclaims, “Oh shit! I’m allergic to vampire bites. Someone save me, I need a hero.”

Psi Wizard sighs audibly, and continues reading while the other hero chases the suspect around the room on foot.

***

The room is dark except for a single light above the mirror, and the lightning from the door, as a suave looking man enters the room and makes for the mirror. He is suspected as the real identity behind the notorious villain Cliffshot. Stroking his hair, he says, “The ol’ dark room, crazy hero routine, huh? Alright, bring it on.”

He turns as the door closes, and the above light goes out for a second. The main lights come on, revealing seven members of the Dallevan League—Adamast Cross, Psi Wizard, Princess Undercut, Walter Dallevan, War Lagoon, Pixeletta in her one-and-only appearance, and Mortar Mage—sitting on the side of the table opposite to the mirror.

“No!” shouts the suspect. “Hell no!”

The group smiles; Pixeletta waves.

The man suspected to be Cliffshot runs back into the mirror, and slides down to the floor. “You stay back, all of you. No, what’s that? What are you doing?”

Walter is holding a pack of cards, which he had pulled from inside his suit jacket. He says, “So, what’ll it be?” He extracts the deck from its box, and shuffles the cards. “Five-card draw, or Texas Hold ‘em?”

“I’m pretty sure there are too many of us for one deck of cards,” says Adamast Cross.

“That’s why I brought three.”

War Lagoon tilts his head, and says, “I always liked Go Fish.”

Pixeletta suggests, “We could always do Blackjack.”

“I’m with her,” notes Mortar Mage.

Psi Wizard exclaims, “Ooh, hit me!” Smack! “Ow! I don’t think hitting me is supposed to be the punch line, you know.” He looks at Princess Undercut, who just shrugs with an innocent look on her face.

“What the hell is wrong with you people?” asks the suspect.

***

Princess Undercut is crying when the suspect, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, enters the room. The prisoner, being questioned for his possible involvement in a number of crimes being perpetrated beyond the prison walls, sits down.

“I’m sorry,” Princess Undercut says, sniffing. “I can’t do this. I . . . I just can’t.” She teleports out, looking like an explosion of glitter.

Psi Wizard walks in moments later, and pauses as if to note that his fellow hero has gone. He nods, and says, “You’re probably wondering what happened. One of our own was found dead this morning. Pixeletta. She was only fifteen. Sorry, I’m going to go find Princess Undercut and comfort her. Someone else will be along shortly.” Then he walks out.

“Pixeletta,” the suspect echoes in a sad tone. “That cute thing? She was a sweetheart, respected by a number of criminals. What . . . What happened?” He walks to the mirror. “I have a confession to make. I’m the criminal mastermind behind Paragon’s current largest drug ring.” He holds up his cuffed hands. “Reform me.”

***

An older gentleman is sitting in the chair opposite to the door. No heroes are expected in this interview, and he is awaiting his lawyer. However, War Lagoon walks in, his face sullen.

The man in the suspect’s seat says, “You’re one of those Dallevan Leaguers, aren’t you? I have nothing to say to you.”

“I am no longer with the league,” says War Lagoon. “As of yesterday at 10:15am, the Dallevan League disbanded officially. Yesterday, at 9:29am, the body of Judy Tanimoto, A-K-A Pixeletta, was found in a lake southwest of here, her body beaten and strangled, and signs of molestation. Today, at 1:32pm, I will no longer be the hero known to the world as War Lagoon.”

The other man glances at the clock. He laughs nervously. “It is only 1:31.”

Darkness floods the room.

War Lagoon opens his eyes, showing a pair of black flames in their place. Someone bangs on the door behind him, but it cannot be opened. Tentacles bind the other man.

In seconds, the suspect is choking for air, and his body is slammed down upon the table.

“Do you know what terror is, Mr. Franks?” asked War Lagoon, his voice now echoing and booming. “Do you know how it feels to come home and be attacked by someone you trust? Do you know what it is like to have every fiber of your being torn asunder while you are kept fully alive to experience every last moment of it? You will. Whatever comes of your court case, you will live, and you will repent for what you’ve done for the remainder of your worthless life. Do you understand me? Well, do you? I have ways of making you pay for what you’ve done, you son of a bitch.”

Suddenly, the darkness and tentacles all dissipate, and the man is left struggling to breathe. War Lagoon walks to the door, which swings open from so much force being put on it by the police officers. “Some father,” is the last thing War Lagoon says on his way out.

***

The final video finished. A man had watched them all, hoping to learn what he could of the Dallevan League now that they were in his crosshairs.

He wanted more. Paragon was in chaos and disarray already, but he wanted so much more than what was happening now. Almost everything was in place. Now that he knew better what to expect from these heroes, what he wanted most seemed like a certainty.

The wicked man smiled.

-------------
Chapter 08
-------------

Max opened the door. “Mistress?” he whispered, with Sean standing behind him.

They found Maryann and Genine lying on the bed, the latter still clothed and alive while Mary’s skin had returned to normal, and her wings had retracted. Both slept, but their mistress heard Max. She placed a finger over her lips. Maryann’s smile was assuring, but her eyes were sad.

Genine gasped then. Repeatedly. She sat up with wide eyes when a moan escaped her lips. She looked around the room, and leapt out of bed.

“No, not again,” she said. Genine turned to Maryann, trying and failing to hide how wet she was below the waist. “I’m sorry, Mistress, but this is wrong. Kill me if you wish it, but don’t make me do dirty things.”

“I’m trying not to,” said Maryann. In fact, she was sure she’d done nothing more than kiss or cuddle the younger woman.

“I must wash up now. Good night, Mistress.” She darted past the male mages, who were uncertain if touching Genine was a good idea or not right now.

Maryann pinched at her brow. “I’ll see you all in the morning. Sleep well.” When her servants were all gone, she looked in the direction of where each man died just hours ago. “Rest in peace.” Mary slammed her head against her pillow. “Rest in peace.”

***

“Hey, Warren, you ready to go?” War Lagoon called through the halls of their base. There was no response. “Mortar, are you here?”

The computer system said, “Mortar Mage is presently: unavailable.” It startled War.

“I see he managed to get the voice system working.”

“Affirmative. Voice mechanism made operational: Five. Years ago. Completion of Interactive Voice System: Yesterday.”

“Did he at least say where he went?”

“Playing outgoing message from: Mortar Mage.”

Warren’s voice took over. “Hey, buddy, I know I said we could go patrolling for old times’ sake, but something required my immediate attention. I decided to check it out, and should be back before long. Don’t hold up if you don’t see me by eight. I know you have to work and all.”

The feminine voice said, “End of: message.”

It was at the instant that War Lagoon reached the room with the power generator and main computer tower. Both machines were as tall as the room like he remembered from close to six years ago, but now there was a third contraption. It reached just as high and took up even more room. It looked messy, whatever it was.

“I wonder what that is,” War Lagoon mentioned.

The computer said, “Please specify.”

“In the generator room, there is a third machine. What is it? And what is with this charred mess all over the floor?”

“Mortar Mage constructed a new device from salvaged parts, and has plans to replace it later. Four hundred. Eighty. FIVE. Projects remaining.”

“What does it do?”

“The new module serves two purposes. The first is to track, calculate, map, and record all anomalies or energy fields within twenty mile radius in a fraction of a second.”

“That sounds like it could be useful, though dangerous,” War Lagoon noted.

“The second purpose: blow up Paragon City’s power grid. Designated an accident and main cause for upgrades.”

War Lagoon felt his eye twitch. He remembered yesterday all too well. Metahumans had lost their powers for about half an hour across the main city, and Founder’s Creek had lost its electricity for a few hours following that.

“He tested it yesterday, didn’t he?” War asked.

“Affirmative,” responded the computer. “He constructed the module upon discovery: The Event; and activated it one-point-four-one-six seconds before the power disruption field disappeared.”

“Great. But, how did he even blow the entire grid?”

“In the event of an emergency, the generator uses a magic portal to leech off of an external power source. Mortar Mage flipped the override switch before testing the module, allowing for the Founder’s Creek power grid to share the burden before an emergency could arise.”

“Then everything blew.”

“Then everything blew,” the computer repeated.

“Sometimes, I hate that guy. I’m going out to clean some of the mess around the city. Tell Warren he owes me for the broom.” War cracked his knuckles and left.

***

Maryann was standing outside, enjoying a cup of tea with the morning sunlight. There was still an element of chaos in the city to the west, across the channel, but it did not touch the island that the estate was on, for the most part.

As if that thought were a cue, someone landed in the distance with technological armor and a green saber. He was skinny and moved fast.

“Oh look, an assassin,” said Maryann. She sipped.

The assassin ran for the succubus when, out of nowhere, Mortar Mage stomped into the would-be assailant from the air above.

“Oh look, a hero.” Maryann took another sip of her tea.

Max and Sean ran outside to protect their mistress. “Outsiders!” shouted Sean. “We’ll protect you, Mistress.”

“There’s no need. We’re in good company. Well, maybe not that person on the ground, but I think we can trust this hero. Isn’t that right, Mortar Mage?”

Max protested, “But, Mistress Mary . . .”

“It’s alright, really. Do me a favor and escort the failed assassin into town in nothing but his underwear.”

They shrugged to one another, and the two mages carted off the unconscious intruder.

Mortar Mage said, “I don’t believe we’ve met, though you seem to know my name.”

“Yes, I suppose I do look different from the last time we met. What brings you to my humble abode?”

“Scientific curiosity. Sorry for dropping in so suddenly.”

“You’ve been hanging around Wyatt too often.”

“What? Who are you?”

Maryann had finished her tea already. Drat. “You know, something I never understood is why you never flew after Toyenna that first time you saw her. You were clearly interested.”

“Someone was too busy telling me who and what she was, and she was gone before I had the chance to get to know her.”

“Technophile.” She smirked.

The hero looked closer at her face. His head budged sideways a few times before he said, “It can’t be. You know more than is possible, and have the same eyes as a friend of mine. He’s dead, though, or he's supposed to be according to some friends of ours.”

“I suppose a knife in the chest should have done the trick. Sometimes, I wonder.” She looked down at her chest, which she would have found very appealing not even a week ago. Screw that, it was still appealing.

“David! You’re alive.” Mortar Mage stepped closer for a hug.

Maryann stepped back, and said, “Whoa, whoa, whoa . . . You don’t want to do that.”

“It’s just a hug, David. What, do you have more guards or something?”

She responded to him by pointing to her horns with both hands.

“Some sort of demon?” said the hero. When Maryann rolled her eyes and gestured toward her boobs, Mortar exclaimed, “Oh, a succubus! Let’s see, you’re worried about me touching you, which means you fear what it could do.”

Mary held a hand up to stop him, “Men can’t control themselves when they do. I have no idea how long it lasts, or if it even wears off at all.”

“That’s rare. So men just give in like that, and don’t stop until they’re satisfied?”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

Mortar laughs to himself, picturing David in his old form wearing a corset.

“It’s not funny,” said Maryann. “Once I start, it becomes a high, and I lose control as much as they do. It’s that, or not feeding at all, and then I lose my mind until who knows what happens.”

“A little energy can always be recovered in time with the right treatment,” said Mortar.

“They don’t stop!”

“Oh? Ah. Oh, David, I’m sorry. I know how much you hated the idea of killing anyone.”

“Thanks, but I still need time to get over it. The change too, but let’s be honest. How the hell does anyone get used to these things?” She indicated her boobs again.

“Maybe a woman’s name would help.”

“I already picked one out, you smartass. It’s Marylesquedothahan’gowearatutu.”

“Really?”

“No, see, I’m making half of that up. It’s Maryann, or Mary.” She smiled. “Why don’t you come inside? We’ll talk somewhere more comfortable.”

Mortar followed his transformed friend into the big house through a set of doors made from glass framed with wood that had been painted white. These doors led specifically into the kitchen.

“Were you out patrolling, or did something specific draw you here?” asked Mary.

“I built an anomaly scanner in the base. I only had to wipe out the power in Founder’s Creek in activating it, but at least they were able to get things working again. No worries.”

“Warren.”

“It recorded a nice map of the Paragon area just before The Event ended. Tell me, were you still able to use your powers during that time?”

“Not my ice armor or related abilities, not since my rebirth. But, my strength and speed remained intact. The mages here were able to cast and retain certain spells as well. What’s with that smile. You knew I’d hold on to my power during that time, didn’t you?”

“Do you remember all those times Walter and I wondered where exactly the base was since it had been assigned to the League? Well, it turns out there was a protective bubble with you at its center, and the meeting room of our base at the bottom of the sphere. Or, to be more precise, the bubble stopped a few inches short of the stone table. Given the size of this island, I can easily calculate how far down the base sits.”

“So you came here to find out the source of the protective bubble. Somehow that last part doesn’t sound very scientific.”

“I’m used to layman’s terms. Besides, it’s not like I’m writing or editing for that magazine of mine right now, so I think I can get away with that.”

“Just don’t turn me into one of your articles.”

“No touching, no articles; anything else?”

“Just one.” Maryann added, “Be careful what questions you ask around me. That’s when my demonic memories surface. It could be just as dangerous for you as a man touching me.”

“And women?”

“They’re safe from my touch and feediness.”

“’Touch and feediness.’ Hahaha. Very well, very well. I think I can live with those three rules.”

“Great, I’m happy for you.” No hugs, no pats on the back, no handshakes. She could think of two people she'd love to scratch that rule for, but they were both gone or missing.

“Are you going to be alright like this?” Mortar Mage asked.

“I don’t know. I know there are plenty of people out there who would rather be one gender or another, but that’s not me. I could have lived being born a girl, I think, though I’m not sure I’ll ever truly find out. This is different, though. I need human contact. I yearn for being a hero again. There’s just so much to this that I can’t put words to if I were a scholar of language and literature.”

“Being a succubus is tough, even for ones without your level of tactile hypnosis. I’ve read about a few being who wanted to shed their demonic powers, knowing full well of the risks to their livelihood or loved ones.”

Maryann said, “Is it possible? To become human, I mean.”

“Beyond outward appearances, I’ve yet to hear or read of any true success stories. But, I’ll look out for you if you wish it.”

Maryann trembled. Some part of her feared what that would mean. “You mentioned risks.”

“Well, yeah, the loss of demonic powers, the chance of demonic brethren going after you and everyone you care for. The chance that it would fail entirely, and destroy your soul. Things of that nature.”

“You’re a little scary when your tone gets serious, you know.”

“True, I am the last person you want to turn serious. I mean, shit, look what happened when I concentrated on a single project long enough to construct that scanner. I wiped out a chunk of the city’s power in an already dark and scary time. That’s only recently.”

They nodded in an awkward silence for a moment. Maybe two.

“Well,” said Maryann, “look at the chatterboxes we’ve become. Care for a drink?”

“I’m good right now, thanks,” responded Mortar Mage. “This is a nice place. You even got a television in the kitchen.”

“Of all the silly places. A cook would love it, if we had one.”

“These days? Your chef would need a cast-iron stomach for the television programming we have on the air.”

“Sigurd Volsang has a cooking show now.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I more or less had the same reaction.”

And then they laughed.

“Mistress?” Genine had entered the room.

“Ah, Genine,” said Maryann, “I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine. This is Mortar Mage. A man of many talents.”

“Oh, Mistress Mary has friends. That’s wonderful.”

“Not to mention unusual, right?”

Genine hiccoughed out of amusement. “Mary, you make such jokes. It is a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Likewise,” said Mortar. “A friend of Adamast’s is a friend of mine.”

“Adamast! So what you said was true.”

“Of course it was,” Mary stated. “Did you think I was lying?”

“No, Mistress, I would never. Don’t think ill of me.”

“There you go again. Genine, it’s fine. Even I was at a loss. I still am, in a way, but all of my memories as David or Adamast Cross are still here. Some of them will just take some digging if I need them. Was there something you needed? Breakfast perhaps?”

“I suppose it has been a while since my last meal.”

Mortar Mage said, “I guess the only mystery left is figuring out what happened. I mean, as far as how this conversation happened.” He really did mean to express his curiosity in a harmless manner.

Maryann’s tone of voice changed. “I can tell you exactly what happened. The hero sacrificed himself in the middle of the ritual when it was the young woman who’d been marked and meant for me.”

Genine started to panic. Mortar said, “Mary, you’re starting to scare me.”

“My essence broke free from its bindings, but it split in two. I was a demon with hardly a soul, destined for greatness before I was trapped in that horrible artifact. Hundreds of years with myself as my only company. I tore so easily. Too easily. I entered the dying hero, repairing the body at the cost of my identity. So then, who am I now? Who is he?

“One body, one personality, but two sets of memories. And you, Mortar Mage, made the mistake of allowing this side of me to take over.”

Mortar replied, “You said not to ask the wrong questions. That wasn’t a question.”

“Oh, but it was.” Mary walked closer to the hero in a seductive manner, causing Genine to scream out and flee the kitchen. “Just because there was no question mark doesn’t mean there wasn’t a question. Isn't that right? Isn’t this what you wanted?” She leaned toward Mortar, who had fallen back into a chair. She bared some cleavage at him. “You got your answers, now what am I going to do with you in return?”

Her gaze met his. Her hand moved forward.

-------------
Chapter 09
-------------

Ohm Wire awoke with a wince. Her head hurt. Her costume was a tattered mess. Her memories slowly flowed back in.

Wait a minute, where am I? What happened to David?

As she got up, Ohm Wire felt the scraps of tattered cloth hanging from her body. She was otherwise still in one piece, though she could feel remnants of everything that had happened. No, it wasn’t a dream. It was too real to have been one.

The wax was gone from her breasts, but she could still feel it. Smell it.

No one was present who she knew, but Ohm Wire felt a bond somewhere that she could not explain. It was faint and distant. Part of her wanted to reach out and tug on the invisible binding to see what followed. Instead she cleared her mind of the sensation and focused on where she was, or who else was here.

There was a transparent barrier at the opening of the metallic cell she was in. The cell was easily double her height, and the width and length of the space seemed like it could fit a king-sized bed, though it was empty aside from herself. Upon examining her surroundings and the two guards in the small room, she had a good idea where she was. It was a lair belonging to the Vambracemen.

Vambracemen were a self-proclaimed heroic militia who had fashioned themselves in the image of the first Captain Patriot. They were anything but pure if history was anything to go by, and yet they continued to roam the country, upholding the law in ways that the police could not. Not legally, though some have tried.

“The prisoner is awake,” said one guard out of the two present.

“How did I get here?” Ohm Wire asked.

“Is that some kind of joke?" asked the other. "You walked in here just this morning. You seemed awake when it happened. Mostly awake, anyway.”

“Then can I walk back out please?”

“Sorry, you’re wanted for your involvement in several crimes, and questioning in five counts of murder.”

“Five? That sounds excessive.” In truth, she wasn’t sure she had a better response. She was sure, however, that she hadn’t killed anyone. Kyra knew also that she wanted to test the barrier.

So she poked it.

“Mommy, look what I can do.”

“That’s great dear. You’ll make a good ballerina someday.”

“But I don’t want to be a ballerina. I want to be one of those.” The little girl that was Kyra pointed at the pole dancer on the TV screen in the other room.

“Roger, what have I told you about watching that around our daughter?”

It turned into a big fight between her mommy and daddy that lasted for three hours, skipping past her usual dinner time.

“Aah!” Ohm Wire screamed.

The friendlier guard said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Those things were infused with magic to trigger memories, not just to prevent you breaking out, but to disrupt any attempts you may have to lie come interrogation time.”

“Has this thing ever really kept people from breaking out?”

“There hasn’t been a failure yet. The barriers surround the walls of each cell too, so there’s no breaking out that way, either.”

“Damn it—“ she made the mistake of pounding a fist into the barrier.

***

“How could you do this to me?” Kyra shouted again to her mother as they rode the ferry from Founder’s Creek to Nerva. The ride had gone long enough already that Kyra would have to swim across the ocean water for several miles.

They had packed up their belongings and left home for good without any notice.

“Dad’s still away in Europe, my friends are still at Kingston, and now I’ll never know if the boy I like likes me back or not. You’re the worst mother ever!”

Her mother slapped her.

“Don’t talk back to me like that, Kyra Belle Hobbs!” She sighed, and sat on a seat provided upon the deck of the ferry. “This was a hard decision for me to make. I wish I could have waited to the end of your Junior year of high school, if not when you left for college, but this opportunity came up now. Now! It was this, or possibly waiting until my retirement to see the next chance. They needed me in Nerva. I was the only dance instructor certified to teach teenagers that they could find. Oh, Kyra, I’m so sorry. This must seem so selfish to you.”

Kyra then said the unthinkable, “I wish you’d died, or left me to live on my own. Don’t talk to me; not ever again.” She stormed off to the other side of the ferry, leaving her mother in tears.

***

She jolted back from the barrier. “Ow, ow, ow, what the hell? Can’t a girl retaliate in peace? How does touching something with my hand zap long-forgotten memories through my mind, anyways? And don’t you say magic.”

The Vambraceman guard, who was perhaps the nicest one Ohm Wire had ever met that was still alive, hummed a moment and said, “Some sort of mystical jargon that baffles the minds of most scientists and infuriates them whenever it is brought up.”

“So, magic then.”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“You’re a nice guy, but I think I hate you right about now.”

Both guards laughed at one another.

The one who had talked before finally peeked inside the cell when Ohm Wire sat in the corner. He said, “If it’s any consolation, miss Ohm Wire, I’d like to think you’re not the coldhearted villain everyone says you are.”

“Why’s that?” she asked.

“You’re wearing Mortar’s armlet. So, either someone from the Dallevan League gave that to you, or you took it by force.” His words made her feel for the armlet she was wearing.

“Have you not seen how hard I punched that barrier?” she asked

“Anyone might. Even me during my hero days. I’d probably have punched and kicked it a few more times than you did a couple moments ago.”

“You were a hero?”

“Small-time.” He showed his own armlet. “They were nice enough to take me in, but then the group fell apart five years ago. Something about the man in charge disappearing, and one of our own getting killed. I didn’t hear too many details. I just took it as a sign, and went on to help the Vambracemen during their reconstruction. They needed a few good men, and Psi Wizard assured me I had the stuff to do it.”

“And now you’re on guard duty.”

“Yes, miss.” He did not want to talk about that. He had made a few mistakes in the face of politics within the organization.

“I never did like the Vambracemen. They’ve got a history of not treating good people the way they deserve.”

“It’s my problem, miss. I’ll handle it in time. Until then, I have a job to do.”

“There’s the attitude I know and love,” Ohm Wire grumbled. Not even a minute passed, and Ohm Wire said, “What do you do about food and restrooms inside these cells?”

A few minutes later, a clear, protective tube came down from the ceiling, and a bowl of mashed potatoes with green onions and butter was teleported into the cell. The tube ascended without taking the bowl with it.

“Cool,” said Ohm Wire, “So what do you do about restrooms inside these cells?”

***

Sergeant Griswold was his name. Guard duty had been thrust upon him by some higher ups, Kyra learned, but she did not prod further. All she knew was that the man cared for justice in truth, but some others around the base wanted Ohm Wire dealt with. She asked him if he knew any other heroes that joined the Vambracemen like he had done, and the sergeant said that a buddy of his did, but he hadn't seen or heard from him lately. Kyra was quick to change the subject. She almost kicked herself for bringing her lover up.

“You have a boyfriend who’s a hero?” he asked.

“An ex. Or current. It’s complicated. I don’t even know if he’s alive.” The confusion frustrated Ohm Wire as she tried to explain it.

“What’s his name?”

“Adamast Cross.”

“You and Adamast? You’re pulling my leg.”

“What, why?”

“Is that how you got the armlet?”

“Not exactly. It’s a long story,” she said.

“It’s a long shift.”

“Why hasn’t the captain come to interrogate me anyway?”

“He’s been busy for some time. He can show up in the next hour, or the next week. If it were up to me, I’d let you go by now, but keep an eye on you.”

“Would you now?”

Playfully, the sergeant said, “Girl, you’re trouble.”

***

She must have dozed off, because Ohm Wire awoke to deep, twisted laughter, which faded when she opened her eyes.

The guards were gone; so was the power. The room was dark as night, and lit as if it were the outdoors. Ohm Wire moved forward until she saw a body that was out of sight from her cell. It was the sergeant. Someone killed him and carved “JUSTICE” into his chest.

Ohm Wire turned away before someone whispered, “Help me.” She turned her head to find the sergeant reaching for her, though he was clearly a still corpse besides the lifted arm. “Someone help me.”

It frightened her. She ran for the door. What help she hoped to get outside, she did not know.

The door slid open. Beyond it was more darkness, but the air rippled like fluid that had been hit with a pebble. Ohm Wire reached into it. Everything around her changed like an impossibly seamless quilt.

A doctor walks past in the next room, off to save another life. A woman packs groceries into her car, never knowing what half would expire before getting home because other lives matter more. A man in charge of a construction team makes call after call until one decides the fate of a known villain. A magically gifted scientist pulls a lever he hopes will save the world. A man in a suit and hat receives terrible news, and falls to his knees. An Arachne agent uncovers his “TRAITOR” scar after wiping himself down with a towel. A bum throws a gust of wind at someone, knocking them in front of a moving vehicle, thinking it would give him a chance to play a hero again. Two Vambracemen enter the room with Sergeant Griswold and a sleeping Ohm Wire only seconds before they kill him with a single shot of a gun. The bang fills the room after 2:16, the moment that the clock on the wall is sucked into the wall violently.

***

Ohm Wire jolted up. She was back in her cell.

Sergeant Griswold perked his head. He said, “Oh hey, you’re back with us?”

“Wh-what happened?” she asked, her face dangerously close to the barrier.

“You passed out. I can’t really tell with your white eyes, but you look fine now.”

“My eyes aren’t white, they’re a greenish-blue.”

“I can get a mirror for you if you’d like.” His smile was infectious.

“Where’s the other guard?”

“He went to find a medic. We can’t have detainees die on us, now can we? The problem is, he’s been out for more than a while now.”

Ohm Wire rubbed her head. Her skull was ringing. “Sorry, I must have been more tired than I thought. I just had a strange nightmare. What time is it?”

“It only just turned 2:16. You’ve officially been here a day and a half.” It had been early Sunday morning when he was put in charge of guarding her, meaning it was Monday afternoon now.

“2:16?” The door opened, and she gasped. Two men entered the room; the same as from her dream. “No.”

“Sergeant,” said one of them, “We’ve come to relieve you of your duty, permanently. Captain’s orders.” He held up a gun.

The sergeant rolled his eyes and held out his arms. He tried to flex an energy field, the same that kept him awake for days at a time when necessary, or alive when he needed to contain anything dangerous that was in motion. Yet, nothing happened. He twitched his arms and tried again. Still nothing.

“No!” Ohm Wire screamed, pounding on the barrier.

-------------
Chapter 10
-------------

Kyra ran to the back of the dancing studio toward her mother, who was lying on the ground. “Mom!” she called out.

Her mother looked as though she had taken a beating. She barely breathed.

Hours later, they were at the hospital, and the doctors assured Kyra that her mom would be alright. It wasn’t right at all. Not two days had passed since they had last talked, and Kyra entered the studio hoping to break the silence that had lasted since their ferry ride.

She stood in the hallway when a man appeared. He was not a doctor, but he promised to help her mother get the best treatment possible if Kyra could run some errands—deliver messages and packages for the man and his colleagues. When Kyra said her mother had only been mugged, the man said that her mother had a rare illness, and he could help.

Something about the man felt dirty, but Kyra was sorry. She owed her mom.

Kyra agreed to his terms.

***

She unsheathed the metal claws from her bracelets, and hit the barrier again. The claws slipped. The barrier touched her hand.

***

A year had passed of running errands for the local crime family. Kyra’s mother never suspected a thing, and had returned to their home in Nerva after one week in the hospital. The same man came around again to offer protection for her dance studio, but Kyra’s mother refused every month. And yet, she was able to afford the medicine that she needed while Kyra remained in the dark as to what ailed her.

Now, Kyra was on another job. She was supposed to pick up the parcel at a pizza place today, and deliver it to her boss.

Upon reaching the pizzeria, a man crashed out of the front window. It was a Vambraceman.

Kyra ran to him in a crouch, unsure of what exactly happened. She hated law figures, but they were still the authorities, and people more importantly.

“It’s you,” he said, delirious. “Ju—“

“Stay still,” said Kyra, “I’m going to get you some help.”

“You don’t have—“

“Shut up, let me save you.”

His hand was on her forearm. “Forgive me. I could not save you. Could not protect—“ He tried lifting his armlet toward her; it was beautiful. However, his arm collapsed. “Forgive . . . .”

Her first death. For Kyra, it was heavy and numbing.

She took the armlet, “I’ll find her. I’ll find the one you lost and give this to her. Please, wake up. Sir?”

“Fancy that,” said a cocky voice behind her. She knew it well as a muscle belonging to the family she worked for. “I never thought you knew any of these creeps.”

“The only creep here is you. What did you do to him?”

“What? He said he wanted a slice of pizza. What Vambraceman eats here of all places? It had to be a lie, so I took out the garbage. Why don’t you show me some respect? I hear you’re finally old enough.”

Kyra stood up, furious at the mobster. She stormed past him to collect the parcel, fighting every last tear daring to flood her eyes. She wished she had some sort of power. She wished she had some way to make him pay for that.

***

Ohm Wire retracted her claws. They were not going to work. She had to get out of this cell before—

The gun went off.

Enraged, she rammed the barrier.

***

A caped figure slipped out of view out the corner of her eye. In Nerva, more so than the rest of the Paragon area, Kyra could not tell if anyone was a hero or a villain unless she could put a name and face to what they’d done, but even then it was not a sure thing. Thinking nothing of the one she saw, she entered the dancing studio.

Her mother was crying in a chair with a medicine bottle in her hand. It was empty.

“Mom?” said Kyra.

The older woman looked upon her daughter with sad eyes, and shook her head. She said, “Oh, my darling little girl, what have I done?”

“What’s the matter? You’re scaring me.”

“I’ve been lying to you all year. This medicine isn’t for me. I’ve run out, and the mafia won’t help me get more because I’ve been refusing their protection. Oh, my baby, why did I take this job? Why did I do this to you?”

“Please, stop it. What are you saying. I can’t understand you.”

Her mom said, “I’ve been asking a friend to patrol this place on the weekends. He’s been telling me to tell you the truth for the past couple months now, but it’s so hard. It’s so . . . Please, will you ever forgive me?” Kyra’s mother wrapped her arms around her by the neck.

“What did you do?”

“The studio needed more people, it’s true, but they called me because the Circle told them to. The Circle contacted me as well.”

“The Circle! Then we have to get away.”

“We can’t, not together. They’re looking for you. This medicine was supposed to suppress your powers so they won’t know your body is ready for them. We should have run, but I didn’t have the money then.”

“Mom, I don’t have any powers.”

“You do. You have the thing your father does. It’s why he hasn’t been back home, or else the Circle would have him too. I’ve been sneaking a pill in your breakfast drinks twice a week since we came to Nerva.”

“Then what about that mob boss? He said you had a rare condition.”

“It was a lie. He hates the Circle as much as I do, but he has a business to run. I’m afraid he can’t help me any more without drawing any unwanted attention unless I pay him for his racketeering services. I hate it. I hate everything about this. I don’t even know what they want with you once your powers have developed, but it can only be trouble. I hoped we could get away, but only one of us can with what I have. How can I leave my baby girl?”

“Leave. Mom, just go.”

“Kyra!”

“You said I have powers? Then it’s time I learned how to use them. Tell me what I need to know, and I’ll fend for myself while you get back with Dad.”

“I can’t leave you.”

“I’m eighteen now, and finishing high school, even if it’s in this shitty neighborhood in the middle of the ocean.” Slight exaggeration, of course. “We both know I would have to leave the house sooner or later, so why not leave things to me? You don’t need to keep watch over me forever.”

“You’re my daughter. It’s my right to watch over you until we’re both dead and buried.”

“Then watch me from Europe. I’m going to make the Circle scream for mercy so loud they’ll think your advanced dancing classes are cake in comparison. So, please, leave Nerva. Leave the country, and don’t look back until this is all over.”

“I love you, Kyra.”

“You too, Mom.” They smiled at one another for a length. “Now, what are these powers?”

***

And again!

***

Arachne agents made Ohm Wire laugh. Their batons were charged with electricity and laser weaponry, both of which did nothing more than tickle now that she had been off of that medicine for a week. Of course, that wasn’t all she could do. She could use her body’s electric field to trick the light around her, allowing Ohm Wire to strike an enemy or two in a number of vital points before they could fight back because they couldn’t see her.

Ohm Wire took two agents down, and danced about the third with well-coordinated steps and flips. Ninjas and martial arts flicks, eat your hearts out. This did, however, present a small problem whenever she moved fast enough. She was visible, and getting to those vital points were tougher without some means to remove the armor worn by the Arachne agents.

She managed a lotus kick in the third agent’s helmeted face, and it disoriented him. She took the chance to apply some pressure, and yank away the baton. She could resist those electric currents; the agents could not.

The business end of the baton was shoved into the agent’s trousers. He fell with the most painful groan Ohm Wire had ever heard in her life.

When the fight was over—it took place in a shipyard—Ohm Wire heard someone clapping. It was a man who looked like a flaming skull in a military outfit and a cape.

He said, “Impressive. The question is, what brings you this way?”

“Call it a test run,” said Ohm Wire. “And who are you? Colonel Humerus?”

“You have a mouth on you. Good, I like that. The name’s Ghost Fracture, and I can always use someone of your talents in my group of ragtag villains.”

“What makes you think I’m a villain?”

“This is a dangerous place for a hero to try out her powers. A ruling crime family, the Arachne Regime, Circle of Thorns, and more wannabe villains than anyone cares to shake a stick at. My group, Nightmare’s Militia or Soldiers depending on whom you ask, works in the shadows to sabotage the likes of them here and in Striga Isle, leaving no question about our villainy so that the heroes of Paragon don’t try to reign judgment over our methods.”

“Doesn’t stop them from trying to stop you, I bet.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised they haven’t tried to stop each other. It took a pair of villainous sisters and their doctor friend to expose the corruption within the Vambracemen some years ago. That's a story for another time if you're interested in joining us. So, what do you say? Would you like to take part in something greater than yourself?”

“I need a weapon. Some of these bastards wear armor.”

“We can help you there.”

“There’s a specific mobster I wish to take down. Cripple or end him, and I’m yours.”

“My dear, you have yourself a deal. What do you call yourself?”

“Ohm Wire.”

***

One. More. Time!

Her shoulder could hate her later.

***

Her mark was in plain view with few guards. They were roughing someone up pretty bad, though Ohm Wire could not see who it was.

It turned out that the same mission to take down this muscle for the local family was the one where she could find a pair of retractable metal claws inside of a weapons crate. They looked like nothing more than reinforced leather gauntlets, which went well with the color of her fingerless gloves. One bonus after another, Ohm Wire marked the crates that the Soldiers had her searching for so they could replace them with dud weapons, all the while she took down the guards in stealth and hid their bodies with various booze.

Everything led to this moment. She hated the man monologuing to whomever it was he had strapped to that chair. He was a creep with more love for violence than the people he worked for, but the family found enough use for him.

That ended here.

Ohm Wire ran forward, learning and incorporating the claws into her method of attack in the process. She struck her main target from behind beneath his legs with enough force to send him flying forward, and then grabbed onto the light hanging above the hostage.

She kicked the two nearby guards right after stabbing the light with her new metal claws. The electric current added to her kick, but she had to let go. The light could only take extra weight for so long, and the gunner preparing to shoot her wasn’t coming any closer.

Continuing to move with the grace of a ballerina, Ohm Wire glided toward the gunner and sliced away his weapon. A punch to the jaw, and elbow to the nose; she did not let up in her assault until the failed gunner was down for the count.

Then the man she’d come here for said, “Stop right there, or the old lady gets it.”

Ohm Wire turned. The hood had been taken off of the woman hostage, and horror hit Ohm Wire harder than a train the size of Saturn’s rings.

“Mom,” she whispered.

“There,” said the creep, “That didn’t take much to stop you, did it? What’s that make you, some sort of hero? In Nerva? Your kind isn’t welcome here, and I just might have to teach you and this nice lady here a lesson as soon as I’m done with what I was saying before. Now, Mrs. Hobbs, tell us where your daughter is so we can give her up to the Circle. They’ll be off our backs, and we’ll be off yours. Deal?”

“No deal,” said a deeper voice. Two arms of ice slammed against the sides of the creep’s head. He had apparently been too surprised to shoot, and now the creep was out cold.

Ha, out cold. Ohm Wire would have to write that one down.

Wait, no, she was angry. This was no time for jokes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ohm Wire asked. “She could have died because of you. And this was my assignment.”

“Kyra,” said the icy titan, whose features she could barely see, “It’s OK. Besides, you’re the one who messed up. Rookie mistakes.”

“Who do you think you are? My name’s Ohm Wire.”

Her mother tried to speak through the gag, but it was totally incoherent.

Ohm Wire sighed. “Yes, Mom, I’ve remembered to eat and bathe regularly, and practice my forms.”

More incoherent muffles.

“Yes, I know, you have every right to ask me these things. I’m not saying you don’t. Nut. Now, do you mind telling me why you’re here instead of Europe?”

Kyra’s mom spent about a minute with more muffles. The icy hero scratched his head at one point, shrugged, and walked off to the side while dragging away the unconscious bodies. Apparently, she had been captured by the family at the airport, and they had already received threats from the Circle by then, so she did not make it out of the country as planned. Otherwise she would have been in Europe having a good time with her husband.

“Ok,” said Ohm Wire, “please promise me you’ll never again mention you and Dad getting it on, with or without the rabbits comparison. I’d much appreciate it. So, is this hero the friend you told me about?”

A few muffles.

“Adamast Cross? How do you know Adamast?”

This time, the muffles translated to the effect of her mother knowing the man behind the mask at the school in Steel Canyon. He had started working there while Kyra was a sophomore in high school, so they never met until now, but it did not take much for Kyra’s mom to figure out that her colleague lived a double life.

Adamast shed his ice armor by now. Kyra was unsure whether to shout at him for shadowing her, or telling him how handsome he looked. So, of course, she tried both at once. It was a hand in the bush, so to speak.

***

She had to push through. Ohm Wire was almost free. Lights were flickering, the two Vanbracemen were freaking out who remained standing, and she moved forward through the mystical barrier.

***

David sat across from Kyra at an outdoor café table. Neither of them had known they were going to hit it off. It was only meant to be a simple lunch since Kyra was otherwise alone on this archipelago, unless you counted Nightmare’s Soldiers. She stared into his brown eyes, and they chatted about things like movies and musicals. Their four year difference meant nothing at all when their words connected.

Their second lunch was cut short when the Soldiers called her in for an assignment, but David promised to take her out to a movie next weekend.

She heard about rivaling covens within the Circle, and Nightmare’s Soldiers hoped to play that to everyone’s advantage. They spent a couple days provoking hostility between the two covens, and another day putting down a skirmish in the streets between both covens and a number of civilians on three of the ten major islands of Nerva. The Soldiers learned their lesson, and the Circle was both angered and crippled for the time being.

David broke his promise after that, however. He treated Kyra to a musical in Talos instead of a movie. It was one she’d wanted to see for so very long.

Some weeks were less noteworthy than others, and some more eventful, but it went on for a year before David kissed Kyra.

“You never kissed a girl before, have you?”

“Of course I have.”

“Then what took you so long?”

“Kyra . . . .”

Two weeks later, he broke some bad news to her. Kyra could not understand. There were times in their year together when David seemed distant, but then he said they were too close. That he was not ready, as much as he liked her. Kyra was pissed, but she yearned for more of him all the same. That only made her angrier at herself. And at him.

In the months that followed, the Soldiers disbanded, leaving Kyra with nothing but her mom’s Nerva house—the official name of ownership had changed long ago for safety reasons—her belongings, and that armlet, which she found while cleaning the room she hadn’t spent many waking hours in lately.

Then it dawned on her. David had one of these on a few of their dates, towards the beginning.

Kyra pondered over the armlet while pacing around her room. She’d promised to find the girl that Vambraceman had confused her for. Could she find Adamast Cross with it somehow? Could she find more heroes to help her against the Circle, the mystery girl included? A close inspection showed some sort of circuitry, similar to the tag she’d worn to access the Soldiers’ base from time to time.

BANG! Something hit the roof of the house. She looked out of the window, finding a mass of mages and spirits approaching. One of them had fired off a spell too soon, and more were preparing to do worse to this house.

She crammed some clothes and a couple bananas into her bag, and then fled with her trick of the light in effect. With luck, no one would see or trace her. With luck, the house would still be standing when she got back.

One day.

***

Ohm Wire practically flew at the two men with her claws out. They did not stand a chance against her rampage. One man went down fast, and then she grabbed the one with the gun from behind.

“Tell me something, Vambraceman,” she said in a hiss. “A true hero sacrificed himself to save me. What have you died for?” Ohm Wire rammed one set of claws into his spine. “Think on that while you still can.”

The second man fell to the ground faster than her claws could retract. She crouched by the good sergeant, who was already gone.

“Yours will not be in vain.” she said, touching his armlet.

A surge of electricity filled the room.

***

Steve stepped out of the shower, wiping his body with a towel. His Arachne agent uniform sat in one corner, and another costume was in a display case. His old armlet from the League days sat in another case with a number of trophies.

The television announced that the city was experiencing a strange phenomenon at the time of its reporting. Metahumans across downtown Paragon were losing access to magic and superpowers. Officials were trying their best to pinpoint the cause and gather a tech-based taskforce to investigate and remedy the phenomenon at once.

Steve snickered. “Losers,” he said.

Then arms wrapped around him. A raspy woman’s voice said, “Traitor.” He saw only a ghastly face with white eyes in the mirror before the metal claws punctured him.

He heard glass break as Steve collapsed and bled on the carpet. It was the last thing he could hear.

***

Bruno Augustus used to mean something. He still wore the band to prove it. His eye twitched when his own shadow questioned him. And he was going to matter again. He worked it out.

Blow a gust of wind just right to push someone in front of a vehicle, save them, and take in the honor. The time and place were picked out along with the right person. A rich looking woman in a miniskirt and heels. This was perfect. Fool proof!

He went to work.

The woman hit the pavement as planned, though from tripping instead of any wind kicking up, and a bus was coming, turning with little to no visibility of the downed woman. Bruno took a step forward, but stopped. Something electric exploded in front of the bus, causing it to stop.

His eye twitched. It did that when someone stood behind him.

Bruno summoned the wind, as great as he could make it. No one would short-change him, or sneak up on the Gust Brawn. No one!

Nothing came. Not even a wisp of air.

That was when the woman behind him said, “Filth.” Something cold and hard ran through his back. He felt his sleeve being torn apart while his body lay upon the concrete. The band was taken from him, the rich woman screaming as she fled the other way.

The ghastly apparition of Ohm Wire took off with the armlet. In seconds, she joined with her sisters. They became one, a woman with white eyes, and a tally of lives to finally match her record as a villain.

But, she did not feel complete yet. She walked from the Vambraceman base, which was in turmoil now along with the rest of the city. She wandered the city and its outskirts for two days, stealing food from the rich and wasteful, before she felt something as peculiar as it was wonderful.

A presence entered the city. One important to her. It was time to meet it.

-------------
Chapter 11
-------------

A door swung open into a lounge full of so-called gentlemen of the early nineteenth century. A succubus named Phoebe entered wearing only a collar, a corset, and a see-through gown. She would feast. Tomorrow, she would shower in gifts worthy of a goddess. These men, however, saw her as nothing more than their entertainment for the night. It was a gangbang, and she loved it. The men, once touched, thought nothing of their comrades disappearing.

She swiped a finger against the cum nestled at the top of her cleavage, and licked it when the last of twenty men perished. The door opened again, and the succubus leered toward it, out of her mind from the high she was experiencing.

“Oh look,” she said, “another wishes to join me.”

The man entered the room, but he did not wear an expression suitable for partying. Nor did he undress any part of himself. He carried a metal rod in one hand, and something unfamiliar to the succubus in the other.

However, the succubus did not care. Feed was feed, and pleasure was pleasure. With a grin, she ran for the man to pounce him.

He swung his rod. It hurt like lightning.

This angered the succubus now. Her eyes turned white. She was going to tear into this man before finishing him off. She had ways of making it feel better for herself than for the other men she had laid. She had ways of making them climax under excruciating pain. She made for another attack, but was struck down again in an instant.

The strange item was rested upon her fallen body before the succubus could get up again. Then she knew what it was. Her body was deteriorating already.

She screamed and clawed and kicked. The infernal relic did not fall from her diminishing form. It only got heavier. And that man, that terrible man, was beyond her reach, though still she tried She would have her way with that man.

***

Maryann reached against her mattress in the dark of the night. Her body had twisted from tossing and turning during that dream.

“Two hundred years,” said a woman’s voice. It took Maryann a moment to realize there was someone standing at her window, obscured by curtains that flowed even though the window was closed. “Centuries of waiting and wanting revenge, but knowing only lustful desire and isolation.”

Maryann said, “You’re not Genine. Who are you?”

The other woman turned out of the curtain. Hers was the same face as Maryann’s, but with different eyes. She said, “You already know the answer to that. I am the one who entered and mended your body, the one you tore in two."

This made Mary nod while recognizing the other succubus’s voice from that cave. “I’m pretty sure conversations like this are what get people committed.”

“You’re still dreaming. For that matter, so am I. You like dreaming of days gone by, and how things could have been different. I like dreaming of sex. It was only a matter of time before the two of us met and shared a dream.”

“Is that what happened to you? Two hundred years ago?”

“Sad, isn’t it? It could have been my greatest evening ever, rife with glory and pleasure, but some mortal with powers struck me down when the night was still young. If I had touched only once him, things would be different.”

“You did more than feed when you needed to,” Maryann said.

“Yes, I did. You, on the other hand, try to go as long as you can without it. What’s that; ten or fifteen years without using your power? A day at best when you do?”

“I hurt, kill, people if I feed.”

“Oh, this pesky soul. You’re right. I suppose that would be a problem for anyone with a conscience. It’s like a vampire I used to know; I think his name was Barney. Or was it Verne? Anyway, he too fed only when absolutely necessary, and it ate at him every time he drank blood. I never really understood it until now.”

“What happened to him?

“He tried to consummate his marriage to a volcano.” She paused, receiving a confused glare from Maryann. “He was drunk.”

“I don’t suppose there are any volcanoes near Paragon.”

“So what? You can sacrifice yourself a second time?” She laughed. “Even if there was one, I couldn’t let you, and not just because of what it would do to our other half. See what you’ve done, hero? You’ve caused me to think of others. I’m going to have to avenge my bad nature before you get any more grand ideas.”

Maryann pulled herself out of bed, but then she found herself standing in another room. What she saw was grotesque. Men stood bound by chains around pillar-like structures, each man surrounded by a stasis field.

“Cool, isn’t it?” asked the succubus, Phoebe, who stepped into view from behind one of the structures. “If nothing else, those worms in the Circle sure know how to preserve our food source. This could easily last us a week if either of us blew through my power each day. You almost have to wonder if someone planned for such a thing; almost.”

“Where is this?” said Mary.

“That’s right, you haven't been down here yet, have you? This is the cellar within the estate. It is where our servants retrieved those two men. Lucky that they found a pair of hardened criminals since they’re not all bad, not like they’d been told by their master. This man here killed a shopkeeper in an attempted burglary, and was caught by mages moments before he could turn himself in. This one was a bum who swindled a newlywed couple out of their belongings. The rest were merely vagabonds and runaways with minor records for stealing the food they needed to survive, all of them men no one would miss, and all were collected in the last twenty years to feed me come the day of my return.” The succubus paused and shook. Shivered? Mary wasn't sure that made sense.

“How do you know this? How did we get here?”

“Astral projection. You don’t need superpowers or the like to make it work, only the true power known as knowledge.”

One man turned his head toward her when she started stroking his cock.

“Hey,” said the succubus, “I think this one wants you.”

Mary shook her head, and turned away. Before she knew it, Mary was outside. She saw Genine sleeping in a chair on the lawn.

Phoebe followed. She walked past the good succubus toward the young lady in the chair.

“She is so cute,” remarked the bad one.

The good said, “She should be inside where it’s warmer.”

“Don’t you know? Since the last time she had slumbered on our bed, and fallen prey to our sexual body energy, she decided to sleep out here, hoping we would never find her. The sprinklers will wake her, and the girl will move on with her morning duties. So sweet, so pure. I crave her.”

“You can’t devour her life energy.”

“Sure I can. Do you remember in the cave when I said that female virgins are a delicacy? The problem is that it takes effort. You have to want it.”

Phoebe let her fangs grow and her tongue become wicked.

“You have to strive for it,” said the bad succubus. She lowered herself so that her head faced the young mage’s crotch. “And take it, like this.”

Then Mary tackled her. She landed on the hard floor of the cellar, hearing the other half of her being laugh. It echoed and chilled Mary to the bone.

“Leave her alone,” said the good one.

“Still trying to be the hero,” said Phoebe. “If you were a real hero, you would have left the island already to try saving people.”

“You know what my touch does. You know the risks.”

“So you think being a hermit will save the world? Evil wins when good people do nothing, or did you never learn that? Face it, you know deep down that it’s over. Your time as a hero came and went with one final act, and it’s failed. Think about how good it felt when those men fucked you while that girl watched. Think about how much you wanted her then.”

“Stop it. Get out of my head.”

“Better yet, think about that dream. You felt every instant, smelled and tasted every ounce of it. You could have had more, you wanted more like I did.”

“That wasn’t me, damn you,” Mary said.

“No, not the first time, but tonight it might as well have been. You loved it. Every thrust, every touch, every drop of cum. You wanted more, didn’t you?”

The good succubus squeezed her eyes in shame. “Yes, I did.”

“You’d take more now if you could.”

“Stop it, please.” Her voice broke to a whimper.

“Say it. Say you want more.”

“I . . . I want more.”

“Then I have a surprise for you. Open your eyes.”

Mary did so, and saw the bad succubus drenched in the pearly goo. Phoebe said cheerfully, “Hi there,” and pounced the good half. They fell on her bed.

Drops of cum dripped onto Mary when the other said, “If Kyra could see you now. Oh well, she will soon enough. I have plans for her.” Every drop aroused Mary even more, but the bad succubus went on while beginning to straddle her opposite. “I’ll tell you what, let’s make a deal. If I make you come before you can wake up, then I will devour you, and we’ll do things my way from now on.”

She broke to kiss her good half on the neck. Then she said, “Of course, you could try to devour me.” Another kiss, this time on a boob. “If you think you have it in you. Then my memories are forever yours along with whatever remains of your conscience. Wake now, and the day will be yours . . . hero.”

Phoebe grinned, and closed in on the good half’s pussy.

***

Genine awoke moments before the sprinklers could go off, and she wandered drowsy-eyed through the house until she got to her mistress’s room. She felt the need to apologize to the succubus, not as a servant but as a friend. It made little sense to her. She opened the door, but no one was there. “Mistress?” she called.

The female mage explored the upper levels of the house, whispering for Maryann, but still received no response. Then Sean joined her from the cellar.

“Have you seen Mary?” they asked in unison.

When Genine shook her head, Sean said, “A couple of the men are missing from downstairs. There wasn’t any dust.”

“OK, don’t panic. Maybe Mistress decided on a late snack, and took them both somewhere private on the estate.”

Max ran in then. He said, “You’re both here!”

“Of course we are. Have you seen Mary?”

“No. I was just down by the beach. There were more footprints.”

“Visitors?”

“The boat is missing. We’re trapped on this island unless we swim for the mainland.”

Genine gasped. “She left us. Mistress Mary is gone.”

-------------
Chapter 12
-------------

The crack of dawn on a Wednesday morning was deceptively calm for the city of Paragon. The main road leading to the Founder’s Creek police station was no different.

Maryann chose to change that.

She burst through the front doors of the station, towing two frightened men by the lasso she had bound them with. With her abrupt entrance, Mary said, “Hello, Paragon’s finest! I’ve come bearing gifts.”

Then Mary realized the flaw in her spectacle. There was only one officer behind the lobby desk, looking at her like some random oddball, and the briefly seen head and curious gaze of another officer that peeked through a conjoining doorway. The latter officer continued to wherever he’d been going prior to Mary’s arrival.

“The one time I get excited about something,” remarked Mary. She walked closer to the front desk. “I believe these two men have something to tell you.”

At that instant, a hero entered through the front door. He bellowed, “Stop right there, villain! Where do you think you’re taking these men?”

Mary said, “I’m merely taking these crime suspects for a walk to the nearest police station. You can relax.”

“Well, then,” said the hero, “Do you need an escort? We wouldn’t want you getting lost, now would we?”

Oh, for the love of Captain Patriot. Even the iconic Dudebro was better than this.

“I’m pretty sure I got it. Thanks.” commented Mary, “Here you go.”

She handed the rope to the officer behind the desk, trying not to let him touch her. Then she walked out, finally free of the two men who rode the small boat with her to the mainland. Her cloaked flowed behind her, so she had the added bonus of learning how to close the door without getting her garment caught.

The officer said to the generic hero, “Weren’t you going to bust her?”

***

Over the past couple days, Mary had had the mages make or buy separate pieces of her new costume. It was this that she wore while she stood on top of a random building. Mary felt the breeze and morning sun brush through her, pushing back the loose cloth of her cloak and knee-length skirt. If it wasn’t for her curled horns, Maryann’s hood would have blown off of her head as well.

And I’m bored. Note to self, Wednesday mornings are for sleep and civilian work.

As if on cue, the siren of a fire engine rang out in the distance. Mary followed the noise to a thin stream of smoke coming from the west. She ran for it.

Galaxy Park was where the suburbs to the west met the heart of the city, and it was home to several apartment buildings and small shops or restaurants surrounding the primary, titular landmark of the area. One of the apartment buildings was on fire. It needed to be put out before the damage spread too far. Siren’s Gauntlet to the north had seen more than enough financial ruin or devastation for both districts combined. More than that, Maryann had lives to save; good to be done.

The building’s residents evacuated from their apartments until they were all outside, and one of them shouted for a child who was apparently still inside. Maryann arrived in time to hear about the boy trapped upstairs.

Grimacing at the odds of needing to save a boy while in succubus form, Mary ran upstairs through the burning building to the apartment she’d been directed toward. The heat meant little to her, but the smoke was atrocious in its assault on her eyes and throat. Luckily, the door didn’t take long to reach. She unfastened the cloak around her neck before crashing through the door of the apartment.

The boy had been coughing in his sleep, but he was starting to wake up. The smoke and fire scared him. Was this his punishment for trying to skip school? The boy yelled out for help seconds before a woman appeared at the opened door to his bedroom. She ran with the cloak in her hands, nabbing him like it were some sort of sack.

Outside, the boy’s parents waited with baited breath and the beginnings of crying out for their worst fears. One of their neighbors consoled them when everyone heard a loud crashing noise. The horned woman who had run inside had made an exit of her own through one of the walls, and she descended with her cloak looking like a bag and a pair of dark wings sprouting from her back. The wings kept her from falling too quickly.

Her feet touched upon the ground, and the wings retracted. The boy kicked around the makeshift bag while Mary set it down. His concerned parents ran to their emerging son then, and then pulled him away from the horned woman, who reached down to grab her cloak.

“Get out of here, you!” one resident said.

“Your kind isn’t welcome here,” said another.

“Amethyst was a time bomb waiting to go off. A demon is asking for trouble,” followed one more voice, which was in turn followed by everyone disagreeing.

They shouted incoherently then, shaking their fists in the air. They closed in on Mary, who felt afraid both for her own life and those of everyone there. She might have expected this sort of reaction from either the Kingston district or back home in Arizona, but not here. She needed to get away without doing anything she would regret. The people needed time and distance, but they closed in on her despite shouting at her to leave.

“Hold it!” shouted a hero, who stomped onto the ground by Mary. It was that same generic hero from the police station. Everyone stopped when he appeared.

He had presence; Maryann gave him that.

The hero said, “Listen to me, this woman only wishes to help you. Don’t let yourselves be twisted by her appearance when you might just owe her for your livelihood. You’re better than the news stations, my friends.”

One of the residents said, “Who are you again?”

Another said, “Will neither of you do something about the fire?”

Mary replied, “The fire department is here, and they are more than capable of putting out this fire.”

“Our belongings.”

“Everything’s burning in there!”

“You’re the one who started it, didn’t you?”

“Villain! Villain!”

A rock flew her way, and missed her head by a hair.

She had enough, and Mary fled when she saw an opening. She bumped into one person in the escape, but she could not see who it was. She ran too fast. Looking back wasn’t an option for her.

Maryann found herself an alleyway, and stopped there to bow her head and swear. Her new reveal as a hero did not work anywhere as well as her first appearance as Adamast Cross about six years ago. That time was lacking, but no one outright attacked him. It was going to take time to earn people’s trust. The time it was going to take did not mesh well with her patience, so Mary decided she was going to look for one more deed and call it a day. She turned in place.

Something hard hit Mary in the head, knocking her unconscious.

A man stood over her with a baseball bat. His grin widened.

***

Morning shifts were never her favorite, but Tatiana still worked the barista cart inside the lobby of Steel Canyon’s hospital as if she hadn’t been up all night. She really needed to see a doctor, but the earliest appointment she could get was not for another four days. Tatiana shrugged it off, and dished out another cup of coffee. The band-aid on her forehead and lack of sleep did nothing to detriment her smile, though the occasional customer did ask in passing what had happened.

The lie she’d chosen was an accident on Monday—her husband had earned a smack upside the head by calling it an eventful one—involving an object falling on her head while she put groceries away. What was she going to say? That someone had shot her in the face the exact second her invulnerability had come back?

She was somehow doubly lucky that no one in her family—which owned the line of barista carts found in hospitals and few other places around the Paragon area—heard about her little injury, or she would never hear the end of it from her parents, who already bothered Tatiana enough about having kids.

Having such powers, she wasn’t even sure pregnancy was possible.

The first few hours of her morning shift went on like normal, or rather as normal as being in Paragon would allow. Moments before her lunch break was due to start, Wyatt appeared at the front door of the hospital.

“Hey you,” he said, walking closer, “Are you ready to grab something to eat?”

“Just about,” Tatiana responded.

Wyatt indicated the band-aid on her forehead, and whispered, “I thought I healed that.” It was a small injury by the time he saw it, and like nothing ever happened by the time he was done with it.

“You did, but there were people who saw it a few days ago. Non-metahumans typically don’t heal in three days like this, and no one knows I am one except for friends, family, and some members of the military or government. You know how it is.”

“I suppose most people don’t. Come on, the pizza place down the way changed their sauces to something edible. Let’s go try it.”

***

A gang leader and one of his followers argued in a corner away from the horned woman. The man who had dragged her inside started fucking her at the doorway, no matter how many people told him to stop. They had had to bludgeon the man to death to make him stop, and the woman was still panting for more, in spite being unconscious, at the doorway of their hideout.

“You see those horns? Her touch bewitches you.”

“No such thing is possible.”

“Paragon to Mr. Boss, but magic is very common around here. Look at the Circle. Look at the schools teaching arcane studies.”

“Nonsense, all of it. I once kidnapped a girl who thought she could magic her way out of anything, and I buried her alive. No one’s found her yet.”

“Explain why Dominic started doing what he was doing then. He’s an asshole, we all are, but none of us resort to rape.”

The boss was about to respond when the horned woman stirred. She sat up, rubbing her head.

What happened? Mary wondered. And why am I so wet?

Her eyes followed a trail of blood to a body in a trashcan outside. Then she turned her head to find a number of men, and two female hookers, staring at her. Mary’s head throbbed, but she knew what gang this was. Paragon was a large city with lots of potential hideouts, and she stumbled on the den of one of the most infamous, elusive, and unstoppable gangs. Just perfect.

Maryann stood up, and said, “So, who wants to be arrested first?”

The gang laughed, most of them nervously. Their boss took a few steps closer. The whole gang wore demonic masks; the hookers wore glittered eye masks with feathers. No one knew the true identity of the boss, but some law officials and heroes had their theories. As Adamast, Mary always wanted a chance to interrogate a few candidates, but now, as a succubus trying to make it as a hero, she found that the chance had fallen on her wet lap.

“Who are you?” asked the boss.

“You’ll have to do without a name,” said Mary.

“You look like a demon, but we both know those don’t exist. Those are nothing more than a fairy tale. If you’re going to be like a child, then my ladies here can teach you what you need to know to become mature like one of them. We can always use another delicious young woman in our midst.”

“Small problem—I’m a hero and a succubus. I have a need to kick your butts, and a touch that will intoxicate every man with more lust than he can handle.”

“No such thing—“

“As magic? Powers? If only. What an idiot like you is doing in Paragon, I’ll never know. Even the residents of Kingston know such things happen, though they are unfriendly towards it. Tell you what, tell me what you did to that little girl, and I’ll go easy on the whole lot of you before bringing you to justice.”

The hookers closed in on her, and the boss said, “I have a better idea. Why don’t my girls here teach you some manners, starting now?” The two women tackled Mary to the ground.

One hooker extended a hand to give her a spanking. Big mistake. Mary used her super strength to break free, throwing both women to separate ends of the den. She knew the likelihood of things going wrong, of every man in the room trying to fuck her, but there was little more choice than to run away. Maryann clenched her fists.

In the den, there were eight men and two women, not counting Maryann. After the two hookers went flying across the room, most of the men started running at the succubus to try to subdue her. One man was in the lead.

Maryann grabbed his wrist, and used her other hand to both break and dislocate the first man’s arm. Then she kicked the side of his head, and back-flipped with the same head nestled between her feet, taking the man with her. He was down and out, but still breathing. She was careful not to use too much strength, or she’d kill these men.

She was in a crouching position upon landing. Mary countered the second man with a punch to the gut. Another left hook brought him down. The next five men went down just as easy. The hookers fled with what little clothing they had.

All that was left was the boss.

He jumped down from his upper level of the den, and beckoned with his hands. The man posed with one of his martial arts forms.

Mary thought to herself that she should have learned more from Princess Undercut when she had the chance, but that was well beyond a moot point now. She simply walked to the last man standing, and grabbed the wrist that tried to parry a hit that wouldn’t come. When the man’s eye twitched, and his pupils dilated, she knew she had him.

The gang’s boss took a step closer. Maryann pushed him all the way back to a wall with a hand on his chest. She hoped to restrain him as long as necessary before her own urges took over.

“Now,” Maryann said, “You’re going to tell me everything.”

She was feeling that wet warmth already. Mary needed to make this quick.

“What did you do with the girl you kidnapped?”

***

Ohm Wire felt the presence nearby. She followed it across town.

At one point along the way she found a hapless would-be mugger aiming his weapon at an old lady. He saw Ohm Wire approach steadily, coolly, and with little regard for him, and became suddenly unsure of himself and what he was about to do to his already frightened victim. Ohm Wire nonchalantly socked him in the stomach, quickly, and somersaulted him into the ground, resuming her walk when it was done.

She continued until she reached an alleyway with an open door at the far side, short of the dead end. This was it. Two days of wandering the city, and her other half was here. Ohm Wire had drifted all that time, but her mind would be whole again.

She crossed the length of the closed alley. Upon reaching the door, she heard a woman moaning in ecstasy. Inside, a horned woman rode a man twice her size with her back turned from the door. The woman and man both screamed out.

Then the man turned to dust, causing Maryann to fall to the ground. The high from the energy she took in outweighed her shame, but she now knew what she needed to know. It was the only real relief that she could find. It had to be enough. Her soul needed it to be enough.

Mary looked up and behind her, and saw a familiar face looking down on her. Her heart tried to jump out of her chest and make for the moon, and the shame took over at last, weighing the succubus to the ground like a boulder over a rag.

“Kyra, is that you?” Maryann asked.

“Who are you?” asked Ohm Wire, her white eyes stealing the other woman’s attention.

“It’s me, Mary . . . David.” Mary stood up. “I got the body, and you got the eyes. But, you’re still you, right? Kyra?”

“I . . .” Ohm Wire raised her shaking hand, holding three armlets. “These are for you. Two who lost their way, one who lost his life because of his way.”

“What happened to you? Look into my eyes. Kyra, please say something that’s actually you. Please tell me you’re alright.”

“I-I can’t. No, don’t make me—“ Ohm Wire was on the verge of tears when Mary took her into her warm embrace. She dropped the armlets, and thought that she might drop herself. “David! What have I done? Men are dead because of me. I killed them. I actually killed them.”

“You and me both. We’re not alone anymore.”

“And you have boobs, and some hard things on the sides of your head. What the fuck?”

Mary laughed. “I’m a succubus now. That demon entered both of our bodies, and affected us differently.”

“David is a terrible name for a woman, you know.”

“I’ve noticed. It's why I chose Mary.”

"Somehow I love it. It fits you."

They continued to sniff and bawl and hug for a while until they heard the sound of boots marching outside. Mary and Kyra looked to the door, and saw a man standing there. He was a high ranking officer of the Vambracemen.

Captain Bates said, “This is such a touching reunion. Too bad we have to break it up, for now.”

“What do you want?” asked Maryann.

“Oh, I could list a lot of things, but right now, I just want our prisoner back.” He pointed to Ohm Wire. “She killed a few of my men, and fled one of our facilities.”

“And if you want to live yourself, then you’ll turn around and never come back.”

“Bold words for a succubus surrounded by the full force of the law.” Two rows of men and women charged in, dressed as the captain was, with the precision of a well-trained military. Any normal person or lesser villain might have found them intimidating. “Don’t make us take her by force.”

“Damn it,” Ohm Wire said with a sigh. Mary was about ready to fight them all if she had to, but Ohm Wire went on, “I’m so sorry. It’s so not fair.”

“Justice is hardly ever fair.”

“Shut up! I wasn’t talking to you. I’ll go, but only if you leave my girlfriend alone.” She gave Mary one last, sad look before walking to the exit.

Mary shivered, feeling like a heavy, vital piece of her was being taken away. “Kyra!” she shouted. She moved after Ohm Wire, but was swiftly pinned down by two Vambracemen with as much combined strength as she had.

Ohm Wire and most of the militia had already gone when Mary realized there were two men holding her down.

The captain said, “That’s a good girl. Now, you play nice, and happy feeding, Maryann.”

He walked out, leaving two men behind to die. Two men who truly respected the law and everything that Captain Patriot stood for; discarded because their captain ordered it so. Mary shouted her protests, but none of her attempts to claw herself free worked. Her body began to want the two men, but her heart and mind wanted someone else.

That someone else was fading, it seemed.

The succubus felt her heart and mind slip away, and she gave in to shameless pleasure.

-------------
Chapter 13
-------------

Ohm Wire walked into her new cell before anyone had the chance to shove her, or say to get in it. Truth be told she was tempted to stuff this cell with her captors, but she knew she didn’t have the strength to pull that off if she tried. She crossed her arms and sat while the barrier came up.

Somewhere out there, a hero was planning foolishly to save her. Somewhere inside of Ohm Wire, she wanted it to happen. But, more than that, she wanted to serve after what she’d done since breaking out of the last cell.

During her days in Nightmare’s Soldiers, the many things Ohm Wire and her allies had done edged on terrorist acts, but they were aimed at other villains. She had never killed anyone before because she was able to help it. Now, however, things were different. Men died by her hand. Whether or not they deserved it didn’t matter to her.

Tears filled her attitude-driven eyes, and she hid them with her hands.

No one who watched her cared. No one said anything to her. She was guarded heavily, but she was alone.

***

Maryann held back her sobs and anguish until the boat finally returned to the island where the estate sat in seclusion from Founder’s Creek. She broke down right there when the vehicle touched the beach. No one was there to hear her scream, and Mary wasn’t sure if she gave a damn.

No one saw her killing those men, but that captain had to know. She knew. She went out hopeful, and came back a wreck, filled with more life energy from other people than she had ever wanted. And the worst part was that she was starting to like it. Her moral fiber had found a fine edge, and Mary was frightened. How many more people would meet their fate like this?

How much longer before she became like the demon, without remorse? Before she came to enjoy every kill?

The feeding continued to eat at her. The longing to do senseless villainy yanked at her heart. She pulled herself onto the shore, and screamed. She punched and hammered the sand, creating small craters with every blow. Mary wiped her eyes as she dragged her feet through the sand. She could not care less about the beautiful sunset while she entered the house. No, she wasn’t sure if there was a sign that could help her; save her.

Mary did not call out to anyone. She was too tempted to crawl into her bed, and drown out the world until she lost her mind. But, there was Kyra. She had to do something about her now that she knew Kyra was alive and being held by the Vambracemen. But what? Mary was only one person.

Her foot had barely touched the first step of a flight of stairs when she heard Genine and the boys talking in another room.

“I know,” said Genine. “I know how it is with all of us. We were all lured into the Circle, and exiled to this estate because we would not serve as they had intended for us. But, I made a promise to remain abstinent, and our mistress made it so hard. Now she’s gone, and it’s over for us. How is this fair? What should I have done? Someone tell me what I should do now?”

She noticed a soft, but strong, pair of arms wrapping around her, and Max and Sean stepping back. The woman hugging her from behind was shaking.

“You’re right,” said Maryann. “I’ve been the worst. I don’t deserve someone as good as you’ve been to me.”

“Mistress.” Genine murmured.

“You’ve been more like a sister to me than my own sister back in Arizona. You’ve all been a better family to me. I shouldn’t have left like that, and I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Both for that, and also for those times I had you on my bed. I should have known my sexual energy would have affected you in that manner. I should have known a lot of things.”

“What happened to you, Maryann?”

“Far too much.” Mary told all three mages about her day in the town, about how the two men she took with her were now in police custody like they should have been for so long, and also how she got to see a dear friend of hers who now needed saving. She explained that her friend had been taken away by the Vambracemen, and she would need help, lots of it, to save her.

Maryann said, “I’m so tired of being a succubus. I want to refrain from ever using my demon powers again so long as I live. Maybe that will give me time before I have to feed again. No, I don’t even want to feed again.”

Sean responded, “We wish there was a way for you to not feed.”

“There is, but the three of you will have to make me a promise. Whether it’s the day after tomorrow, or in ten years, or I don’t care when . . . I want you to promise me that if the need to feed ever arises again that you will kill me.”

All three mages called out to her.

“Please, just promise me this one thing. I feel like the next time I feed will be the last before I lose myself permanently to it. I don’t want to kill any more people if I can help it. It’s better to go when there’s a piece of me left, than when I’m nothing more than a memory inside my own body. Or this body. Or both, I don’t even know anymore.”

Genine said, “Do you truly wish to cast aside your demonic power?”

“I do. It’s brought us nothing but trouble. I miss being human, superpowers or no.” Mary looked down. “Guy parts, or girl.”

“If that happens,” said Max, “What will become of us?”

“You don’t have to live in servitude. I have friends out there who can help you with a new life. Friends . . . For the first time since my awakening, I feel the need to find them all again.” She undid the three armlets she was wearing, the three she had picked up inside that den. “We could all go if there was just one more.”

Genine said, “Those look like the one you wore at the beach.”

“The one I wore?”

The mage’s eyes widened, and she ran for the stairs. She called for everyone to follow her once Genine was at the top.

They were in a room Mary had not visited yet. It was full of so many accessories and other ornate things. Genine rummaged through a chest full of smaller boxes until she found the one she sought.

“When you were found,” started Genine, setting the box on a table near Mary, “you wore a band just like those three. I stored it in here for safe keeping, but, thanks to the magic here, this room likes to rearrange itself sometimes.”

Mary opened the box, and found the armlet she had worn as Adamast Cross. In the end, it didn’t really matter who wore which band, but it seemed so right to take the same armlet while leaving the other three on the table. Mary put it on her forearm, and then nothing happened. There was no fanfare, nor anything. She yearned for a connection to the world or life itself, but it was only an armlet with a mechanism built into it; nothing more. The squandered expectation made her huff.

“Listen to me, starting to brood,” said Mary. “In the end, things are what we make of them. I see a chance for all four of us to make things right, together, and I’m not going to let the worst of times keep me down because that will only make it worse. I’ll let you three decide who gets which armlet, and who among you will first accompany me into town before the others are picked up.”

Genine said, “Why, what are we doing?”

“There’s no phone here. I need to make a very important phonecall to the police.”

“You really are unusual, Mistress.” This time, Genine laughed when she said it.

***

Through the early hours of the morning, the police were busy with a search party. They had brought along a few heroes who could either commune with nature or had heightened senses for tracking people and things.

In the woods, three hours northwest of Paragon, they found a burial site.

“Time stood still,” was more than appropriate.

***

Across the entire state, including Paragon and its islands, regularly scheduled programs at ten in the morning were interrupted mid-broadcast to bring a special news bulletin. It started off with a girl being escorted to her parents and an ambulance outside of the forest where she had been found. The girl had not aged in the time she was missing.

“What you are seeing here,” said the newscaster narrating the scene, “is a miracle. Little Autumn Magleson has been found close to three years after she was abducted. She was kidnapped in broad daylight by an armed gang, which has somehow eluded arrest for twice as long. I have received reports that some of them were found last night, and are in custody. Their leader is believed at large, but his clothes and belongings were found in the same hideout as his men.

“I’m being told that, upon being buried, Miss Magleson cast a time bubble around her body, and only woke up a couple hours ago. How a little girl managed to do such a thing at the age of eleven I cannot say.

“The police had given up hope on finding her a couple years ago, but her family never gave up. The Paragon City Police Department received a huge tip from a woman claiming to be working with Adamast Cross. Police are telling us that, yes, Adamast Cross is still around, and he wishes to meet the Dallevan League at its usual place later today. The message reads as, quote: ‘It’s time we saved some more lives again.’”

“Yes, back to the Maglesons, we can see now as the paramedic gives the OK for little Autumn to go home with her parents. It is truly remarkable to see her getting in the car with her mother and fa—“

The television turned off then.

Tatiana fell back in her chair, unable to close her speechless mouth or hold up her remote control any longer. She could hardly believe it. Adamast was out there. Was this a trick or what? She looked at the pair of armlets sitting on the counter.

***

Ohm Wire smiled as she overheard the television in the next room. Her lover was a fool, but she was a damn smart one. One Vambraceman shot her a hard look, but Ohm Wire kept on smiling.

So, you want to save me. Come and get me. Come and liberate the world’s deadliest damsel. I’ll be waiting!

-------------
Chapter 14
-------------

“Hey, you made it!” said Princess Undercut to War Lagoon, who entered the meeting room where she and Psi Wizard had been waiting.

War said, “I’m more surprised that you’re here, Tatiana. I thought you had work today.”

“I called in a favor from my big brother. He’s filling in for me at work, because there’s no way I’m missing this. Someone called for a party, and I'm here.”

“Still no sign of Warren, huh?”

Psi Wizard and Princess Undercut shrugged. None of them had seen Mortar Mage all week, and all that any of them had heard was the message he left days earlier. Not even the base’s computer answered War’s question.

The entrance chimed repeatedly for a couple of seconds. All three heroes decided they couldn’t wait to see who it was that had entered, and they made their way for the corridor leading to the exit.

“Wait here a bit,” said Mary to her mages when they entered the base. She stepped forward prior to the arrival of the heroes on the other end of the hallway. “Hey, guys.”

Princess Undercut said, “What the . . . ? No, wait, the defense system!”

Mary continued walking past the turrets and protective field generators, which did nothing as she did so. The computer even said, “Welcome back, Adamast Cross.”

Those words were what ultimately stopped Mary. She looked up and turned after passing the initial defenses. Curiosity preoccupied her for a moment before she said, “He got it working! But, that voice; I know it from somewhere.”

“Who are you?” Princess Undercut asked.

“Adamast. Didn’t you hear the computer?”

“You’re a woman. With horns. Who are these people with you? They look like the three mages we saw on the TV the other day. No, stay back, I want some answers. This has to be a Circle trick.”

“I’m pretty sure Mortar and Walter installed a defensive barrier against such tampering. I’m glad the computer recognizes me. I guess my D-N-A isn’t too far off from what it used to be since the demon transformed my body to look more like she did centuries ago. You three look so surprised by this. Didn’t Mortar say anything to you?”

War answered, “We haven’t seen or heard from him in a few days.”

Everyone shared an awkward pause before the blue pillar of light chimed once more.

Mortar Mage hummed a random tune when he rode the portal energy into the Dallevan League’s base. He’d barely walked two paces when he realized that he was surrounded by the three mages from that estate, and Mary was standing halfway down the first corridor. Yet, he continued to hum his tune, and took more steps into the base.

“Hey, Mortar,” said Maryann, “Good to see you again.”

Meanwhile, Mortar sidestepped around Mary outside of arms’ length, and he responded, “Yeah, likewise, Mary.”

“Sorry about before.”

“It’s no problem. You were kind enough to let me fly out of there.”

That was true enough. Mary’s demon memories had taken over, but, before she could go all the way and touch her friend, the succubus had pointed to the door and let him go.

Psi Wizard chuckled, and said, “The two of you aren’t telling us something, alright. Mortar, why are you being friendly but avoiding her all the same?”

“Textile hypnosis, wasn’t it?” asked Mary.

Mortar replied, “Tactile, but yes.”

“So close!”

“Why don’t you all come in, and we’ll talk somewhere more comfortable? Oh, right. Sean, Genine, and Max, correct? Computer, we have visitors. Let them pass, please.”

The computer said, “Right away,” and the scanning light spread across all three mages. “You are now free to explore the premises. Warning: one foot out of line may result in revoked privileges, and possibly death. Have a nice day.”

Mary shook her head, “I’m sure I know that voice. Mortar, when did you get the scanner to work on more than one person at a time? Also, where’ve you been? The others tell me you have been away for some time.”

Everyone ventured into the meeting room, and Mortar explained, “I updated the scanner Monday morning before the Event hit. It was easy enough. As for my whereabouts, I’ve just been busy with work. I suddenly had an influx of articles to review and format for SAM Monthly.”

“Amazing,” exclaimed Max, “you work for Science and Mysticism Monthly?”

“I’m one of the founding members, writers, and chief editor. Are you a fan?”

“I am! I can’t believe I’d meet a man such as yourself, sir.”

“Well, maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll autograph an issue for you.” There were a few cleared throats then. It forced Mortar to get back on track. “Anyways, I got that done after I had left your estate. Only a day later, actually. Which reminds me, Computer, you can cross off my project about finding out where this base is. And cancel the back entrance as well.”

“Affirmative,” said the computer, “Four hundred. Eighty. THREE projects remaining.”

“See, after I finished up with work, I surveyed the watery depths surrounding this base and the estate. I meant to find a safe place to create an auxiliary tunnel or an alternative route for one of my own portals between here and the outside. The bad news is I could not make a new exit or entry for us all to use. The good news is that I might have found a means to safely feed water into one of our back rooms for a shower or something of similar nature. I have more tests on the way.”

Mary moaned in contempt.

Princess Undercut said, “Please don’t destroy this base, Mortar.”

“I’ll try,” said Mortar. “Now that we’re all here and getting comfortable, I believe Maryann has a reason for calling us all here other than reconnecting with old friends.”

All eyes fell on Mary, who said, “I do.”

“I’ll let you explain then. I have a little something to do over here.” Mortar began to tinker with a computer console at the corner of one wall.

This led to Mary taking a deep breath as everyone settled in the meeting room. She felt like she had far more to explain or say than she really did.

“I’ve been an idiot,” she said to everyone. “I should have come running when I awoke in this body, and was able to remember enough of who I am, but I know things now that I wouldn’t have known then. Kyra’s alive. Ohm Wire, I mean. I want to rescue her, but she’s being held in a Vambracemen facility. I don’t know which.”

War Lagoon whistled.

“Yeah. That makes things difficult for all of us, especially since a few others are no longer with us; and there’s more. I’m tired of living this way. I hate being a succubus, and not being able to touch a man, or to have sex without killing unless it’s with another woman. Too many men have died already because of it.”

Princess Undercut asked, “I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m starting to like it! The next time might be the one where I start harming good people just because I want a good lay. I promised myself long ago that I wouldn’t kill anyone, not because Paragon’s civilians and media like to pretend we never fight for our lives out there, but because I always hated the idea of taking another life. Now I’ve taken six in less than a week. I wouldn’t put it against you all to hate me for it.”

“I don’t. Remember when we fought the Circle in that cave on Saturday? I didn’t hold my punches. I might have killed a man, either by snapping his neck with my foot, or by letting those rocks fall on him when we left. I’m just as guilty as you are, but it seems we both know the value of life. What I mean to say is, don’t beat yourself up over it, and try not to make a habit of killing others.”

“And don’t get caught, obviously,” said Psi Wizard.

Mortar let his head hang while he continued to work. He never told anyone about all the deaths he was responsible for. Most people wouldn’t believe him if he did. He wiped the one tear from his eye while no one was looking, and kept entering information into the computer’s auxiliary console.

Psi Wizard, of course, felt something there, but he could not say what it was.

“I took a few during the war that Walter and I were in,” said War Lagoon, referring to his time in the military. “I take no satisfaction in their deaths, but I know how much better the world has become as a result, even if the world sucks at saying ‘thank you,' or consoling you for what you’ve done. I'm sure someone else would say the same if she could. David, Mary, you’re not alone. I won’t hold it against you if you won’t.”

Mary said, “Thank you, guys. When I can finally lose this touch thing of mine, I owe you all a good hug. Or a beer. Maybe both.”

“This touch thing, tactile hypnosis as Warren calls it, what does it do?”

“If a man and I come within contact with one another, then he feels the instant and insatiable need to fuck. I haven’t tried it on gay men, nor do I know how long the touch lasts.”

“Forty-five minutes is the norm,” interjected Mortar. It was a rare ability, but those who had it had it tested in the past.

“Really? Well, in any case, prolonged exposure leaves me progressively horny, and unable to think straight until I’ve done something about it. Then they expend their energy inside of me and die.”

The men all shifted uncomfortably.

Mortar clapped his hands. “Finally,” he said, “I think we’re ready. Computer, cue the projection.”

The base darkened around the meeting room, and the air above the table was lit up with a number of holographic images. One was the map of Paragon City with a few colored zones fading in and out in a slow rotation.

“Right,” Mortar went on, “Let me start by apologizing to everyone who was in Founder’s Creek on Monday. My fault, but I have every intention of improving the device that caused it so it won’t happen again.”

“Four hundred—“

“Not now, Computer."

“Warren,” said a few people around the room.

“But, because of that, we have some measurements within a twenty mile radius of this base. Mary, if that girl were in the area, and I ran the test before the Event, then I would have found her time capsule magic with this. Good on you for finding her, if that was indeed your doing. That all said, however, as we all know, the power disruption field known as The Event started at 2:16 in the afternoon, spanning eight miles across. Well, eight-point-zero-one-one, but who’s counting that fifty-eight feet and ninety-six hundredths of an inch anyway?”

Maryann pointed out, “That lavender circle to the side, before the end of the field, was my protective field, wasn’t it?” The circle was little smaller than the whole island by mere hairs, but it covered the entire estate.

“Yes, and I thank you for being relatively still during that half hour, or my ability to use fire and other magic would have been limited at best while I built the device.”

“How high above us is the estate?”

“The tabletop here is one hundred five feet from wherever you were sitting or standing at the time. Let’s not get into more detail than that.”

“Let’s not,” she repeated in total agreement.

“There was a much smaller field like Mary’s inside the city. It was only big enough for one person.” A lavender dot on the map enlarged into security footage from inside the jail area of a Vambracemen base. “Observe.”

Everyone who could recognize Ohm Wire gasped when they saw her. The time read 2:16, and she attacked the barrier holding her cell after one man had been shot by his allies. All of the heroes around the room were able to recall the man as one of their own, but they kept watching while Ohm Wire broke free. With a blinding speed, she cut down the two men still standing. Then her electric power exploded through the room, and knocked out the camera.

“That was during The Event,” exclaimed Psi Wizard.

“It was, in the beginning of it to be precise.” returned Mortar Mage.

“Her power isn’t technology based, though, is it?”

“Right again. Remember, Mary projected a protective field. Two of them actually. One affected the estate she’s been staying at, as well as the space we’re all staring at, and the other allowed Ohm Wire to do as she needed with her powers during the half hour that the rest of us could not use our magic or superpowers.”

“But, how?”

“Are you familiar with radio frequencies and color spectrums?”

“Yes.”

“Good, because that is a terrible comparison, and it’s the best I got. I think the real question is how she was able to project herself across town, and interact with people physically.” Pictures popped up of two men dead from backstabbing wounds, both of whom were the only people to have been kicked out of the League. “Who here saw her ghost on Monday? Raise your hands. Princess, Psi, War . . . OK. Me too, though I had no way of recognizing her since I only saw Ohm Wire the one time at the Freakshow hideout.”

The computer projected a still image of Kyra eating some Asian cuisine from a to-go box on top of the meeting room table.

“Really, Computer? You didn’t tell me you had a picture of her?”

The computer said, “You never asked.”

Princess Undercut said dryly, “I do hope that’s the only one.”

“Now deleting: five hundred sixty-four images over the course of Ohm Wire’s visit, forty inappropriate for the eyes of: children.”

“Ooh, let me see!”

“Will you both knock that off?” asked Mortar, starting to get more serious.

The computer said, “Mortar Mage. Designated: a buzzkill.”

Everyone laughed. Mortar pinched his glabella*, nearly removing his mask as a result. Ultimately, he let them have their fun, which died down on its own.

War Lagoon said, “So we know how she got out of that cell. Mary said that Kyra was taken captive by the Vambracemen a second time it sounds like. So, where is she, and how do we save her?”

“Good questions,” said Mortar. “They have some sophisticated security at their main base in the city, so hacking their footage won’t be as easy as when I nabbed what we saw before and deleted it from their own files. I will need time to track her down.”

Mary shook her head, saying, “I don’t believe it. You all believe me, and you’re willing to help me. To help her.”

“If you and Mortar both say you’re David, then you’re David. Or were, whatever,” said Princess Undercut. “You’re back with us now, is what I’m saying.”

Mortar said, “I’ve had a long time, longer than you know, to think about it. We’ve lost a lot of people already. Some of it because we rushed into things. Some of it because we acted in doubt. At least one because we didn't do enough. I think it’s time we all stopped losing the people we care about. You all know what I’m like, but I’ll let you all in on a secret. I’m complacent as hell, and I’m not going to let things go the way they have been. I have my serious side, and it’s time I showed it.”

“Now you’re talking sense,” said War. “I’m in.”

Princess Undercut said, “I liked that girl for the short time we knew her. We’re busting her out, no matter who the Vambracemen think they are.”

Psi Wizard replied, “Nothing impressive from me. I just want to help.”

“I’ll help too!” exclaimed the three mages, though not quite in unison.

“Great,” said Maryann, “Now we just need a giant safety pin, and maybe some gum, and we’re good to go. How long do you need to find Kyra?”

Mortar checked the computer console, and said, “You might want to order takeout. Maybe take a nap.” Cue War Lagoon snoring in the corner of the room, though he was faking it this time. “If I’m lucky, then this will go quick, and we can rescue Ohm Wire tonight. Otherwise, expect to be able to go early tomorrow morning.”

“You do, of course, realize what this might do to our public opinion?”

“Leave that to me.”

-------------
Chapter 15
-------------

The whole group, a party of eight, met in the northern end of Siren’s Gauntlet an hour before dawn, a mostly-abandoned business district that was supposed to be torn down and renovated into an amusement park, though that was before the heroes and villains turned it into a perpetual battle zone along with the Vambracemen and Arachne Regime on opposite ends. The group of heroes and mages had to watch their step, and hope no one would come after them.

Up ahead was the strongest Vambracemen stronghold in Paragon. Of course Ohm Wire had to be there. It couldn’t have been the smaller facilities hidden throughout the city.

“I thought the Vambracemen were generally liked by the heroes,” said Sean in a soft tone of voice.

“Long story,” said Psi Wizard. “A long time ago they were respected by most, even by a number of villains, and some actually were likeable. They represented law and order while trying to represent the original Captain Patriot’s good name and image. Things changed a little over eight years ago; again, long story. They fell apart and required reform, and now here we are, repeating history.”

Princess Undercut said, “Outright attacking them is still asking for trouble, and not the good kind. Villains are typically the ones to try, because heroes risk a shiny ‘fallen’ status when they do so.”

Sean tried to let that churn inside his head for a moment. “Then what are we doing? I thought you were all heroes.”

“We are, and now so are you, sweety. Mortar?”

“I’m almost ready,” noted Mortar Mage, who was tapping away at a handheld device with his stylus. “There are a few people who can do this faster than me, but I can make due; and there we go.”

“The cameras are ready?”

“They are ready, and so are my gadgets I’ve brought with me. All we need to do now is to make a good entrance, move in fast, and be out in time for breakfast.”

Mary held up her new cane and parasol—both durable enough to hit concrete a few times before breaking—with one hand, and said, “My turn,” before walking off toward the stronghold.

The facility was surrounded by a moat and a few secure bridges. Mary chose to walk to the nearest one where two Vambracemen stood watch. All they saw was a costumed woman carrying a parasol in the fading night. They thought they had it easy, and the base’s security system had their backs in case the wrong visitor came by.

“Can we help you, ma’am?” asked one of the guards in a firm voice.

“Excuse me, yes,” said Mary in a delightfully cheery voice, “Might I have a moment of your time to talk about letting waffles into your lives?” She winked.

Not one beat later, the parasol was closed, and the cane was soaring through the air in Mary’s other hand. They became like a pair of batons in her hands, and she laid the smackdown on both guards in a matter of seconds.

The security system failed as planned.

“Sorry about this,” said Mary to the unconscious guards, “but we’ve got a friend in need of saving.”

Back at the group, Mortar said, “A ‘B’ in originality, an ‘A’ in execution.”

“Right,” remarked Princess Undercut, “like you could have come up with better on such short notice.”

“Everyone’s a critic. Let’s go.”

The heroes and mages moved forward, though Genine pondered these friends of Mary’s. They were clearly as unusual as she was. Genine could not decide if this was comforting or something to worry about in the time it took for them all to cross the bridge leading into the stronghold.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” shouted a Vambracemen who spotted the group.

War Lagoon opened a dark circle beneath the patrolling Vambraceman, who then fell through it, and out a second circle into the moat outside the walls.

The scream attracted more men and women stationed around the base, but none of them had come into sight of the infiltrators yet. Mortar Mage took this as his cue to act, and he threw a few mechanical pucks down each of three ways. The pucks went off, casting illusions to confuse the Vambracemen.

“Eight of us, so three groups,” said War Lagoon. “One will have to be a pair.”

Genine panicked, “We’re splitting up?”

“Quicker that way to find the holding cells. Sadly I couldn’t get a full layout of this base or we’d do this together more quietly. Let’s do a mage per group. Ladies—yes, that counts you, Adamast—you three take the left. I’ll take the right with Psi Wizard and either one of you gentlemen.”

Mary mumbled something about picking out a new name.

She was interrupted by Mortar Mage saying, “Max, was it? If you’d like, we can team up for the center way here.”

His fan nodded to him. The groups were thus decided, if not by this quick exchange, then by Vambracemen shooting at the illusions.

Maryann said, “No time to argue or plan any further, I guess, and we're a-walking.”

Everyone else started moving. Sean bounced back and forth between the varying directions before he trailed after Psi Wizard and War Lagoon.

***

Ohm Wire stood up. She was as good as feeling whole now. That horned woman who used to be David was close. Ohm Wire knew the time was close. She knew she had done wrong and had to pay for it, but there was a better way than the Vambracemen.

“Eight years since fate took you down, and you still think you’re in control of everything,” said Ohm Wire. “Once upon a time, there was a fanatic organization with access to arms that no civilian had the right to carry. They needed a cover for their operations, so they modeled themselves after the greatest hero of the time.

“For so many years, people looked up to this growing militia, and it seemed like everyone had to join whether they had powers or not. However, this organization’s true nature remained a secret to every law abiding citizen and heroic vigilante, and even half the villains. That is, until the truth was uncovered by two teenage girls and their doctor. Eight years ago, everything changed with two great battles. It was the first, last and only time such a militia could be seen prepared to fight and die for their beliefs.

“The villain reform system was made shortly thereafter, yet here you are, thinking you are above that. You’re torn between your truly good members and everyone else. If those girls hadn’t left for another dimension, they would be laughing at each and every one of your faces for what’s about to happen today.”

The guards spent every ounce of effort they had to ignore this prisoner. For once, that was not enough.

He said, “You will be silent, criminal. Or you will suffer a fatal accident.”

That was when Ohm Wire’s eyes glowed. She smiled, and one of her astral manifestations appeared behind the man.

In her raspy voice, the ghostly duplicate said, “Life is an illusion, but you mean nothing.” She kicked the same Vambraceman in the back before he could turn.

All five guards converged on her. The ghost moved with the grace of a ballerina and the ferocity of a feral beast while the real Ohm Wire stood and smiled inside her cell. Bones broke, noses bloodied, and men fell.

The ghost managed to drop one Vambraceman close enough to the wall switch that controlled the barriers. It required an authorized hand to do anything.

She used one of the unconscious guard’s hands to open the cell, and then the apparition vanished. Ohm Wire stepped out into the main of the room. Her eyes continued to glow. Her heart and mind continued to search the base for her other half.

***

“Get behind me!” Mortar exclaimed while opening a completely solid door.

He pressed a device against it to make it vibrate with defensive magic, and the gunfire on the other side did nothing more than bounce off of the door. Mortar held it like that for a few seconds, then the Vambracemen needed to reload.

Max took the chance to fire off some arcane blasts. The attack had a far greater success than the flying bits of metal.

The two of them slipped inside, and found a long hallway at the bottom of some stairs.

“Do you think Mary’s friend is down there?” asked Max.

Mortar said, “I’m not so sure about that. I’m sensing something down there, but it’s not prisoner containment.” He pressed against his earpiece, which was one of five that Mortar was able to scrounge up in short notice. “Any luck, guys?”

“Not yet,” said Princess Undercut.

Mary said, “I think this way leads to the mess hall and training areas. We’ll keep as many of these guys busy as we can while you all try to find Kyra.”

“We’ll keep you posted.”

Psi Wizard said, “Sean is working the protected door. This might be the way, unless these guys like to secure a bunker full of pillows and blankets. Though, I think I’d be down with that.”

“Down with—“ Everyone could hear Princess Undercut sigh over the sounds of gunfire and powers being used. “War.”

“Ow!”

“Thank you, sweety.”

War Lagoon said, “Alright, we’re in. We’ve appeared to hit pay dirt. Mortar, are you and Max joining us?”

Mortar Mage said, “Probably not. I think we stumbled onto something that needs looking into. We’ll meet you out front as planned.”

He nodded to his mage companion, and they hurried into the hallway below. A pair of Vamebracemen came up to meet them, and another entered from outside, but they made short work of them between their fireballs and arcane blasts. While he had no love for the Vambracemen, Mortar concentrated more on the concussive blasts than the hot ones.

Moments hardly passed before Mortar and the mage started down the hallway. It was dimly lit the whole way.

“So,” Mortar asked while they moved, “have you been following my journal for very long?”

“Only since my cousin submitted an article he’d written for your kids’ section,” Max replied.

“Oh really?”

“A little over five years ago, I think, yes.”

“And is he doing well?”

“I like to think he’s in a better place than I am, from time to time.” The truth was, Max didn’t want to talk about that.

They slowed down before hitting the door at the end of the hall. As dense as it appeared to be, able to withstand a bomb, the door belonged to the captain of the base. “Captain Bates,” the placard read on the wall. Mortar held another device up to the security panel.

The door unlocked with a click in seconds.

“Bates,” said Mortar Mage, “that’s one of the most renowned members in the entire militia. I'm pretty sure I heard it somewhere else before as well. And now we get to see his office. Odd that there weren’t other doors down . . . here. Hello.”

He stopped when they entered the office. The chair was turned away from the door, and it had someone sitting in it. This someone was very still, not that Mortar or Max knew the reason for it right away. He approached at a slow, steady pace.

“Sorry to intrude, Captain. I can’t say I like how you run this company of yours. Ew.”

Mortar finally saw it. The outfit had been aged by a few years, and there was a skeleton in the seat rather than a body. There wasn’t even sign of decomposition nearby.

That should have been enough, but Max noticed that there were windows on either side of the office with thick blinds covering them. A light glimmered from behind the blinds, which was how he noticed them.

“Mortar?” said Max.

“Yeah, I know,” he responded, bowing his head with a weak smile.

“I’m sensing something very wrong here.”

“Let’s take a look. Dread and suspicion alone won’t help us. There should be a mechanism somewhere to open both sets of blinds.”

They searched the room starting with the desk area. Max found it by moving the chair away from the desk and looking beneath where the seat would have fit inside the larger piece of furniture. Mortar caught the skeleton when it started to topple over from the movement, but then he saw something on the back of the primary neck bone. He couldn’t make it out clearly at first.

Max tinkered with the mechanism he found, causing both sets of blinds to open. Light immediately started to fill the room. He stood up, and gasped at what he saw beyond the windows.

Meanwhile, Mortar made out the mark on the skeleton now that there was sufficient light. It was an insignia left behind by high-level demons. He looked up, hoping to find something that would beat back his coming paralysis. Behind the windows, however, were large rooms filled with workers. Their eyes glowed with green and red pyres, and they all wore lab coats. The two intruders looked between the two vast rooms and saw the possessed technicians hard at work. This was far worse than anything Mortar had expected to find.

In one room, the technicians constructed a circular platform on the ground with a glyph stretched across its center. Metal tubes lead away from the platform to the outer walls.

The other room had a larger machine with smaller consoles and computers around it. Mortar barely had time to recognize the larger machine when one of the technicians spotted him and Max. Every technician now faced the two of them when the first technician roared in an ancient and arcane language, which had been muffled by the glass. They raised their arms, and charged magical energy. They were about to attack what they saw.

And all Mortar could do was ask, “Why do they have a reactor like that?”

***

Adamast Cross rushed through the ranks of a couple dozen Vambracemen, concerning herself more with speed than strength. She knew what her touch would do, and she was counting on it for once as a distraction so as to knock them down before the hypnosis could lead to any real harm. Princess Undercut and Genine brought up the rear with their attacks upon the now affected men they faced.

Adamast turned on the women among the militia—she spotted five—and proceeded to attack them in earnest.

Princess Undercut flipped around with her punches and kicks. She changed from one martial arts form to another, then back to her first, and nearly touched upon her third when one man surprised her with an attack of his own. He apparently had enough wits of his own remaining to do so.

However, it did not matter, because the man fell with a few of the last members of the large group. Genine breathed heavily, and Princess Undercut gave her wrist a good shake.

“Taxation hypnosis?” asked Princess Undercut.

Adamast nodded, and said “Tactile hip-hop.”

“Um, excuse me,” said Genine. She was about to correct them both by calling it tactile hypnosis, but she chose instead to say, “I think it was called texting hippopotamus.”

Princess Undercut and Adamast glared at one another. They giggled, and said, “I like it!”

“You there!” shouted a Vambraceman. He had a rocket launcher, and he wasted no time to fire it at the ladies.

“Shit, look out!” Princess Undercut shoved the other two into an open door. The rocket and its explosion hit her, as well as slammed the door shut.

Groaning in slight pain, Adamast Cross started picking herself up when she felt a pair of hands pick her up by the arms. The next thing she knew, she was slammed against the wall, and two men were breathing on her like a pair of horny dogs.

Genine could not bear to watch, but the Vambraceman who lifted her was holding her in place, making it hard to look or run away. She had to get out. She had to break herself free.

She called for the magic.

***

Ohm Wire found her. Her lover was in danger. The help she brought must not have been enough. I’m on my way.

She reached for the exit when a couple bangs of metal sounded from behind. Someone was opening it, she gathered. Ohm Wire took a stance prepared herself for a fight, to strike first before anyone could see her.

Meanwhile, a pair of heroes and a mage stood on the other side. They were ready to be attacked by a group of Vambracemen. They were ready to fight back, and win.

At any cost.

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Chapter 16
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A news helicopter flew over Siren’s Gauntlet this morning. They only ever came this way when there was a story to sell. After a long week, an anonymous tip had sent the team and their flying craft toward the Vambraceman base to the northwest.

The reporter onboard could already see a couple plumes of smoke from the base. This confirmed some things she had heard, at least. “Roll it, roll it!” she said eagerly to the cameraman. Now she had to wait for the cue from the morning news anchors, who in turn had to wait for their cue from their sponsors. This story seemed too legitimate for anyone to pass up.

Who was attacking the Vambracemen? And why?

***

“Wait a minute,” said Psi Wizard, who had finally sensed the one conscious mind beyond the door. It was still opening, and both Sean and War Lagoon were poised for an attack. “Stop, stop!”

Ohm Wire ran at them, and they to her. Psi Wizard had no choice but to use his power to impair their mobility.

The three of them tripped over their own legs, and stared at one another in an awkward manner while they fell to the ground. Psi Wizard ran inside the room so he could stand between them.

“Like I was trying to say,” Psi Wizard said, “wait a damn minute. You’re all lucky that I could recognize Kyra’s mind, though it’s been changed by the same force that affected Dav—I mean Mary. Actually, Kyra, I think your mind is more clearly yours than hers was just yesterday.”

“Mary’s mind?” asked Ohm Wire.

“It took longer to recognize. It could be that demon inside her head.”

“She’s inside me too. Maybe not my mind, not unless I’m really upset, but she's definitely in here with me. It’s a party.”

“Then I caught you all at the right time. A second or two later, and we would all have regretted it.”

War Lagoon interrupted, saying, “This is well and good, but can we get control of our legs back?”

“Hm? Oh yeah.” Psi Wizard released his hold on their mobility, and everyone stood. “How did you manage to get out and whoop these guys?”

Ohm Wire realized that he meant the Vambracemen on the floor. She said, “It’s an ability the demon gave me. Look, see?”

Her white eyes glowed. A corporeal astral projection appeared behind the men, and tapped the mage on the shoulder. All three guys looked at the projection, who waved and vanished in an instant.

“Cool, huh?” asked Ohm Wire.

Sean said, “Have you needed to feed since you started doing that? On men, I mean.”

“No, I don’t . . . Whoa, no! I’m not a succubus in body like Mary is. I just share the same demon’s essence that she does. Who are you, by the way?”

“My apologies, miss, my name is Sean. I work for Maryann. And I recommend you don’t make a habit of using your demonic abilities. It drains her energy, and then she’ll need to feed again.”

“It does?”

“I think so. I don’t know for certain, but that’s one risk I’m not willing to gamble. I know it drains Mary when she uses her own demonic power, but you say you share in it.”

“I’ll take your word for it. So . . . are we going to stand around all day, or are we going to meet up with Mary and the others somewhere?”

Psi Wizard and War Lagoon shared a smirk.

“What?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Psi Wizard said, heading for the door. He pressed against his earpiece. "We found Ohm Wire. Heading out now.”

All he or War Lagoon could hear was static.

“Undercut, Adamast?” Psi Wizard called as he passed the door into the main hall. “Mortar, do you read me?”

***

Orbs of arcane energy clashed together with the office. Max barely pulled Mortar out of the room in time. They fell on the cold concrete floor of the hallway where the explosive energy ravaged the air overhead, and dissolved.

A few technicians passed through the walls like ghosts. Mortar picked himself up quickly enough to fire off a stream of flame through the hallway. The searing heat incinerated the demonic spirits possessing the technicians, and they fell. Their bodies burned and withered into glowing ash until that, too, vanished.

“You killed them,” said Max.

“They were already dead,” Mortar responded. “That’s the unfortunate thing about the Circle and its ritualistic possessions. Too many men or women lose their souls or lives in the process. I’d love to stop these possessions for good. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. But, where’s the rest of them?”

***

Genine stomped on the foot of the man holding her, and then she shot an arcane beam at the two holding her mistress; no, her friend.

Adamast Cross had pushed back against men and arousal as best she could when a violet beam swiped both Vambracemen from her hands. She fell back against the wall again, unsure of what the passing beam would do to her. Adamast looked to her right in time to see the beam fade.

It had left a large hole in the wall; the two Vambracemen were nowhere to be seen.

The last one of them standing inched away from Genine seconds before the door was yanked open from outside. Princess Undercut stepped inside with patches of her costume missing. She, however, was in one piece.

“Invulnerability fucking rocks,” Princess Undercut stated.

Then the last Vambracemen hit the floor. “Why?” he asked. “Why do you do this?”

“Because you’re holding a friend of ours who doesn’t belong here. No offense, sweety, but we don’t trust half of you to play nice.”

“Your captain included,” said Mary.

A helicopter could be heard outside at this point. The ladies groaned, thinking it could not get any worse, but then they heard some eerie laughter.

Figures elevated through the ground. Most of them looked like lab workers or doctors of some sort, but with pyres in place of their eyes. They turned their gazes on everyone in the room. One shot a blast at an unconscious Vambraceman, finishing him off.

The hollow laughter echoed again, coming from the newcomers.

***

“My power isn’t working on them,” said Psi Wizard. “Why isn’t it working on them?”

War Lagoon leveled an arm with the technicians’ heads, and a dark mist appeared around their faces. That, at least, caused the possessed technicians to flail around without any sense of who or what they were looking at. Or firing at, for that matter. Blasts of energy filled the main corridor of the holding block. Sean did his best to raise a defensive barrier, but then Ohm Wire ran outside of it with her metal claws ready to strike.

***

The reporter spoke into the headset microphone, “The Siren’s Gauntlet base belonging to the Vambracemen appears to be under attack by some deranged scientists with magical powers. They’re shooting all over the place, and . . . HOLY SH--!”

One of the possessed technicians had managed to cling onto the front of the helicopter. He was laughing maniacally and radiating a lot of energy. The broadcast ended suddenly for that station, and more helicopters were on their way. The wreckage of the first one twirled and fell to the ground while the newcomers approached.

***

Only five more technicians had lingered underground. Max and Mortar Mage dispatched them quickly, but the latter was at a loss of what to do next. That was very bad. He was a scatterbrained sort of man, but never indecisive. Indecisive was a sign something was horribly wrong.

Mortar stared at the reactor if only because that was where he’d happened to be that moment when the last technician fell. It was a nuclear reactor, but with modifications. They were dangerous ones, using powerful magic not taught anywhere around Paragon, nor even the physical plain of reality as far as he knew.

“Sir?” said Max.

“It’s so wrong,” Mortar said.

“Shouldn’t we try to contact the others?”

“My earpiece won’t work because of this thing. Those technicians must have built and maintained this reactor, and now there’s no telling if it will blow or not. Now the others are too far to warn. If anything even tries to tap into this reactor, Paragon will do the best impression of the sun turning into a black hole; an impression you’ll wish you’ve never seen. It’ll be like the end all over again, except it’ll be here. Right here. I hate it. I hate things I cannot stop or change.”

“What about that device in the other room?”

Mortar shot a glare as if to try answering the question without words. It wasn’t one of anger, but of both curiosity and sudden awareness of everything that could go right or wrong in this situation in an instant. Too many variables.

The hero ran past the demolished office into the other room, and found the circular device just waiting for him.

As Max caught up to him, Mortar said, “I play bright and sunny to hide my own shadows, but this . . . This is a reminder that our world is a fragile stem brimming with so much, and all the while teetering on an edge most of us will never see. We have to keep this thing from turning on, or so help me death will seem like the good ending. Come on, help me dismantle this contraption before—“

The glyph chose that second to illuminate. Of course it did.

“No,” Mortar said. He repeated it several times in rapid succession and increasing volume.

“I don’t understand,” said Max.

“Have you ever imagined what the end of the universe would look or feel like?”

“I try not to entertain the thought.”

“When that reactor blows, you won’t have to.” Mortar grabbed a large wrench, and started banging one of the pipes running out of the device. He did so more out of anger than any rational thought, until the wrench loosed from his hand and bounced off of the pipe.

Max looked around the room, and found a only one console. He pointed at it. “What does that do?”

Mortar looked, and said, “That looks like a communication module. Note the microphone and speaker. I saw another speaker outside the office door. That’s not going to turn this off. If only it were so simple.”

The glowing glyph became a pillar of light that touched the ceiling. Yellow warning lights flashed overhead. Knowing that the reactor was due to blow at any second, Mortar stood up with his signature smile.

“Not what I meant by going with a bang. Not how I wanted it to end at all, but that’s being a hero. After what I’ve seen and taken part of, I guess this is the only way.” He pulled out a device. “I can save everyone else with the right spell, one that unlocks this box. Max, I want you to run. I’ll close the blast doors and take my final bow. It will hurt; oh my goodness it will hurt like nothing else. But, I'll gladly go with my conscience intact. Max?”

He turned toward the mage, who punched him square in the face.

***

The ground was shaking. Adamast quipped to herself that things were always getting better around here when she’d knocked down another possessed technician.

Another tried to sneak up on her, but one of Adamast’s female allies tripped the technician and elbowed him in the face. It was Ohm Wire. She smiled at Adamast while the men caught up to her.

Yet another reunion was cut short when an arcane mark appeared on the ground in the far corner where the holding block was located. The last few technicians all fell like puppets whose strings had been clipped. Even Adamast and Ohm Wire felt something very wrong from that glyph.

Giant, scaly hands surfaced from inside the glyph. A monstrous horror climbed out of it.

“What on Earth is that?” asked War Lagoon.

Adamast shook her head. Her demonic memories surfaced again, bringing her to her knees. Princess Undercut shook her.

“Snap out of it,” Princess Undercut said.

But then Ohm Wire was the one to answer War’s question. “That’s the Abomination of Tribunals. An emissary and liaison of three great forces. And, if we can’t stop it—“

“Our executioner,” Adamast finished.

Mortar’s eyes opened with a start. His face throbbed in pain, but nothing was broken. At least the world stopped spinning more than it was supposed to. He got up upon realizing that he was back outside the demolished office. However, the door had been replaced with a barricade of lead and metal. The door had been good against a small bomb, but the new structure could hold against a blast that would take out the area of the whole base.

“Max,” he yelled at the speaker above him. “Max, open the hell up right now!”

“I can’t do that,” said Max. “I can’t let you be the one to sacrifice yourself to save the world. You’ve done that enough times. You will probably do it again.”

“I have every right. You don’t even know what to do. We don’t have much time before the reactor blows.”

“And these walls and doors won’t be enough against a nuke or greater, I know. While you were unconscious I used a spell to glimpse through your mind. I plan to use this device of yours to absorb everything. It's just a simple opening spell, and everyone will be saved. Please, Mortar, let me do this.”

“You don’t understand. This is my right. Mine!”

“No, sir. Being a survivor in that nameless war doesn’t give you the right to strip the world of who or what you are. Yes, I saw that too, glimpses of it. You did nothing wrong. I’m the one who needs to redeem himself.”

“Max, please, just open up. You don’t have to do this.”

“I do.”

“Think of your cousin.”

“I am. Maybe now, I can face him where I’m going. Maybe now he can forgive me for what happened to him. Goodbye, Mortar.”

The microphone whined.

Max walked into the room with the reactor. It was lambent and rumbling, and only getting worse. He whispered a few words, and the box in his hands clicked. The device opened.

One last tear rolled down his cheeks.

On the other side of the barricade, Mortar pounded on the metal door. It didn’t matter if doing so was a lost cause. If the device had been activated, and Mortar opened the door, then radiating and highly potent magic would seep in and out of the doorway, each wave of energy more violent than the last, until more than half of the base was destroyed. And many lives along with it. The device would have succeeded, but only after so much destruction. Damn it all, Mortar should have been the one in there.

He heard the barricade being pushed and pulled upon from within. The microphone squealed one last time before it sparked and smoked. It fell next to Mortar while the rhythmic throbbing of the door continued. The lead and metal and concrete surrounding Mortar bent or cracked.

Then it stopped. Mortar Mage rested a hand against the tweaked door.

***

Adamast jumped and punched at the monster. It was at least twice her armored height, but she managed to get her fist into its forehead. However, the one hit wasn’t enough force, she realized as she entrusted herself to gravity’s limited mercy. She was mere inches from the ground when the monster backhanded her, batting her form away from the fight.

The mages and War Lagoon threw a number of ranged attacks at the monster. What little damage they were dealing healed with the aid of the glyph’s light.

Psi Wizard sent some recovery energy to Adamast. He spotted his wife wailing on the monster from behind, but it continued to ignore her. She was impervious to a lot of attacks, but her own flurry of punches and kicks were that of a typical human being. A strong one, yes, but still only typical. Psi Wizard shook his head. His psychic powers meant nothing against their foe.

More helicopters flew above the base now. Most of them belonged to news stations, and one to the police. One camera caught Ohm Wire running along a rooftop toward the action.

Ohm Wire used the rooftop to get on top of the monster and deal as much damage as she could with her claws. She emitted an electric aura potent enough to zap or burn anyone who touched her. Ohm Wire hoped it was working against the monster while she slashed away with her claws.

It was not enough. Nothing was. The Abomination of Tribunals roared, and sent out a shockwave full of wind, flames, and ice, which knocked everyone away who was within range. That was a mere ounce of its power. A morning stretch after a long slumber compared to what he could do.

The monster would level everything in a three mile radius once enough power filtered through the glyph that had trapped him for so long. Now that he shrugged everyone off and stopped the need to heal, the monster started to gather energy.

Yes, he knew Paragon City. He had once come to pass judgment on it before someone else locked him away in eternal sleep. He’d known what the city would become when it was barely a settlement of colonists. This was the only way. His explosive entry into the world was only the beginning.

The ground jolted. The glyph fizzled out with a loud crack. Pavement fell, outlining the glyph’s shape.

The monster was cut off from the majority of his power.

Adamast laughed through a cough. “Alright!” she said, “It looks like your number is up, asshole. Chopping block time!”

She ran in, and punched the Abomination of Tribunals with as much fury as she could muster. A freshly healed Ohm Wire—there were only some scrapes and bruises that Psi Wizard had tended to—joined in on the assault.

War Lagoon conjured the black mist around the monster’s face. Dark tentacles broke through the ground beneath the monster as well to attempt to restrain or thrash against the beast.

Now that Psi Wizard was able to feel the monster’s mind, he concentrated on it. It was like grabbing for a fish inside of a murky pond. He didn't want to know what opening a mindscape would have done. But, anything he could do to keep that mind busy bought everyone some time until the monster retaliated with more than just swats and kicks that could shatter bones.

***

He heard more fighting. Mortar tired of fighting. He climbed up the stairs past a number of bodies like the possessed technicians he had taken down earlier. Mortar Mage opened the door to find the others fighting something that was clearly not human.

Blue fire engulfed the hand at his side while the other simply let go of the door.

The others were forced back by a shockwave of magical energy. It was raw arcane energy. The kind used by pure killers without qualms over their actions. But, it did not matter.

Mortar raised his enflamed hand, and shot off attack after attack with the intense heat. Every shot hit the monster in front of him, creating dents and holes upon impact, but they healed as fast as Mortar could hurt it. Using any more power than this would have been too dangerous for everyone here. Himself included.

But he kept going. Mortar walked closer while firing off the blue flames, and he said, “This stops. Right now. Nobody else dies. You go back to wherever you came from!”

The Abomination of Tribunals recognized the threat to his judgment over the city. He charged at the man shooting fire at him, and reached for him.

The two were about to clash. Everyone watched in horror.

Mortar slapped the ground, and muttered an incantation. The monster’s own shadow glistened before his feet sank into the ground as if it were a shallow pool of oil. The monster took swipes at Mortar, but nothing hit; Mortar was mere inches out of range.

“I told you to go back,” he said to the monster. “You should have listened.” Mortar then sat down with his legs crossed. “Everyone, listen. I need you to get to safety so I can burn this thing’s entire body in one fell swoop. I’ll be fine, if a little scarred all over, but you all have to act right now. Ugh—?!”

Something hit the back of his head with a loud clang. When Mortar fell forward, the two remaining mages stood behind him with solemn expressions on their faces. Genine was levitating a pole from the fence on top of the stronghold’s walls.

“We can’t let you do that,” said Sean.

Mortar groaned in pain. He was still conscious, albeit barely. He turned toward the two mages in time to see Genine raise the fence pole. She took a swing with it.

***

It was well past seven in the morning local time, and footage from the news helicopters hit every television screen in Paragon that aired the news. More than that, it reached several televisions around the world since recent events had made the city world-news-worthy for the second time in many years, the first being only days ago.

That was bound to happen when a city was so renowned for its heroic or villainous activity that the same report over and over again just got bored. Mages on the loose? Aliens from outer space invading? Some millionaire stealing cakes from orphans? Most of the world looked away.

In central Europe, a tailor-suited man in a bowler hat stopped by one such screen. He knew a few of those heroes on the screen. The news was clearly confused as to what was going on. The station tried all too quickly to speculate on the involvement of Cinder Snow or Amethyst Star, but the suited man knew otherwise. He knew these heroes' deeds and what they faced.

Never play chess with an invisible opponent, he recalled, for they are likely to bare their teeth and cheat. Now those heroes needed help. Now he could no longer play his game from afar. It was time to go home and fix things finally.

The nonsensical speculations continued, each more absurd than the last—though somehow getting closer to the truth—but the man did not continue to stare. He had a home to return to. An emissary to disappoint. A plane ticket to change for another.

***

The pole pierced the monster’s hand. Then more poles from the barbed fence joined until there was enough metal to bind both hands to the ground.

Mortar had to admit that he was impressed, even if his head throbbed.

“What are you doing?” Mortar asked. “That won’t hold him for long.”

Genine said, “It’ll take too long for you to gather the magic you need to obliterate this thing. The two of us have been gathering it for the last few minutes for an attack of our own.”

Sean shouted out, “War Lagoon, do you think you can grab your friend from there and go?”

“No,” said Mortar, “You’re not doing this. It’s too dangerous.” A black circle appeared in front of him, and a hand pulled him through. Travel this way was nauseating. “No, damn it.”

Adamast said, “What are they doing?”

“They’re about to attempt what I was going to do. It’ll be too much for them.”

“They’re as strong as you are, I think.”

“Maybe, but they're not as skilled at preventing backlash, or haven’t you noticed every time they cast a powerful spell?”

“What?”

“There’s a reason some of us can use magic without burning up our bodies. It takes training that they never received in their time in the Circle, because the Circle doesn’t teach it. They rely on demon possessions or transformations. Most demons were born from it. A spell on this level would scar even me if I had all day to prepare. Imagine what it will do to them!” Damn, his head hurt too much to risk any action right now.

“No.” Adamast shouted toward the mages. “Sean! Genine!”

The other heroes grabbed Adamast and Mortar, saying they needed to go. The auras around the two mages could be seen halfway across the city if it weren’t for the tall walls around them. The heroes fled the stronghold while the mages grabbed the struggling monster’s hands. Princess Undercut grabbed Adamast and teleported away despite Adamast's kicking and screaming. Adamast attempted to grow her ice armor again when they popped from one place to the next.

Sean and Genine nodded to one another. They already knew what had happened to Max, though not how, and they felt what was coming already.

“Thank you, Mistress,” Genine said, trying not to sob. “Serving you was the best death sentence a person could ask for.”

***

Captain Bates watched through binoculars as his base exploded. The blast jumped at the sky before the walls broke down along with his visage.

He smiled. His time with the Vambracemen was over, but things were finally in motion. He finally knew the identity of the other man pulling strings from far away. Captain Bates, or rather his true self, had work to do to ensure his own victory before the other player could move the next piece.

One gambit led to another. The reactor was cut from the equation, the Abomination of Tribunals was removed like a hot-headed rook that got ahead of itself, and the succubus was once again free, soon to be whole.

She was free of his grasp, yes, but also free to fall into his next trap when the time came.

The former Vambraceman captain turned and walked to the other edge of the Faultline rooftop, where he vanished. The air around him became bloated as he did so, but it returned to normal in seconds. The building that had no chance of holding his weight remained still and undisturbed as if he was never there.

Author's Note: We are about halfway done with the first story written for this trilogy, word-count-wise. I had written this as a teaser of the second story, the prequel. I hope you enjoy this foresight into how the supergroup had formed, and get a laugh or three out of this chapter. In any case, thank you for reading.

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Chapter 18 - An Interlude
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Six years ago... Almost

Paragon, as well as the rest of the world, lost a great man, and more, but his legacy proved strong. Many people, metahuman or no, took up capes and costumes of their very own. Times were changing for the city. Some people wanted glory, some wanted to do what was right, and some had no idea what they were getting themselves into.

Two men looking to make their mark on the world posted flyers across the city in the early hours of the morning. These flyers had caught the eye of many aspiring heroes. Even the news caught wind of this, and called these men ambitious, though laughable considering how many caped vigilantes were cropping up, new or old.

When the day had come, the blue pillars of light seen around Paragon became an open door to anyone who could prove their good intentions, as villains found they’d been locked out of the Blue Pillar System for the entire day. Only a few gangs or villain groups could afford such bases, but the impact was ever present.

The chaos during this moment is another tale, best served with a plate of fresh waffles and mug of hot cocoa. Mmm... hot cocoa. Ssslluurrp! Now, where were we? Oh yes . . . .

***

Both men set up in the opening corridor of their new base.

Walter sat down on one side of a long table next to his buddy from the military, Jeff Charleston, who was dressed to fit his hero name War Lagoon. Walter never saw the need for a stage name, or for any outfit besides his business suit and bowler hat. But, to each his own. He wasn’t going to judge based on such desires.

He nodded to War Lagoon, and looked at his wristwatch. Walter said, “Now to see what kind of group we’re going to be. In 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . .”

This was the agreed upon time between Mr. Dallevan and the B-P-S agency. The company had informed him that he would receive notice if anything went wrong, but time passed. Nothing happened; no one came.

War Lagoon said, “I’m starting to think we should have put a team together and take down a gang at their hideout, like the supergroups in the old days.”

“My way will work,” said Walter, “just you wait.” He stared into his palm-sized computer for reassurance, but the blank word document was all that stared back at him. “This is going to be a long day, isn’t it?”

His forced smile became a softer, more genuine one when the blue pillar chimed. The first candidate to appear was a young lady, whose mask was a folded rag with eyeholes cut into it and then tied in the back. The rest of her costume was certainly authentic, and possibly custom made.

The young lady opened her previously squeezed eyelids, and smiled. “That was amazing!” she exclaimed. “Not as awesome as my own means of travel, mind you, but I’ve never gone through anything quite like that portal before.”

“We’ll take your word for it,” said War Lagoon. “Do all heroes look like they’re still in elementary school, or is this some kind of joke?”

“I’m fourteen, and most heroes are older than I am, in case you didn’t notice in the mirror.”

“I’m going to pretend someone half my age didn’t just call me an old man.”

“What? I only said you’re older. Sheesh.”

Walter said, “It’s OK, my old friend. Now, little hero, why don’t you tell us your name and a little bit of what you can do.”

The girl contemplated a moment. “I think I’ve decided on Pixeletta. I have electric based powers, with which I can zap the bad guys or enter their computers and learn all sorts of cool things.”

“Enter, how?”

Pixeletta glanced at the little computer sitting on the table, and asked, “Care if I demonstrate?”

Walter raised his hands just enough to say wordlessly to go ahead. He had no idea what to expect, so he and War Lagoon watched as the young heroine approached the table, and then disappear. Or, rather, her body became like a bolt of electricity, which flew directly into the computer without causing any harm to it. Three seconds later she shot back out of it the same way she entered.

“Whoa,” said Pixeletta, a little disoriented. “Naughty, naughty, Mr. Dallevan. I thought my classmate had it bad with her pictures.”

War Lagoon turned his head toward his buddy with an intense smile. There was a lot he could say, but he chose not to.

“Yes, that’s quite impressive,” said Walter. “Well then, if you can leave us some way to contact you in the future, we might get back to you.”

“I already did,” Pixeletta said. “My email is on your word document there.”

“So it is.”

“It’s been fun. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my lunch break is almost over, and I haven’t eaten yet. Can’t go to class on an empty stomach.” She left with a cheery expression.

Short pause.

Walter said, “You know, I think lunch does sound good.” It was a good thing he had installed a break room with a coffee maker and microwave; the fridge was on order.

War Lagoon turned his head slowly toward Walter again. Somehow, nothing he could think to say was fitting enough.

***

A man walked in wearing a skintight top, a utility belt, and a flame-inspired hoodie. War and Walter had each heard a couple mentions of a hero by this description, but never a name since the hero before them never made a point to stick around after his good deeds.

“So,” said the hero, rocking on his feet, “here we are. Nice place you got here. I was under the impression that the B-P-S wasn’t handing out bases in Paragon anymore. Though, I may have heard wrong. Other people often make mistakes like that.”

War Lagoon said, “That’s only half right.”

The agency had recently come under fire when someone from Paragon—a villain, of course—tried to use their system to teleport to another city with the blue pillars. Between that and so many of their bases in the city being taken, the B-P-S had to take drastic measures and make it harder to acquire such a base besides, which started cutting into their profits.

“Let’s just say we lucked out,” said Walter, hiding his connections.

“I’ll say,” said the man. “I’ve always wanted to examine one of these bases with all their circuitry and durability against explosions. For science, of course.”

“Please don’t blow up our shiny old base, Mister . . .”

“Ah, sorry, I suppose I never did tell anyone my name. It’s Mortar Mage. Part technician, part magic user, mostly genius.”

“Genius?” said War Lagoon and Walter in unison.

“Mostly. When I figure that out, I’ll let you know.”

The microwave dinged in the other room. The sound made Mortar’s eyes light up brighter than Walter had thought possible; figuratively like a nuclear explosion, and literally like a pair of candles.

Mortar said, “Ooh, ooh! Can I see?” He ran past the table toward the break room.

War Lagoon and Walter followed him with their gazes even after Mortar disappeared around the first corner. “Well,” said War, “there goes your lunch.”

Walter said, “No, I think that was yours.”

***

“So, Mister Psi Wizard,” said War Lagoon, “Let me get this straight. You’re a psychic who can heal small wounds and fatigue as well? How does that work?”

Psi Wizard nodded, and then responded, “It’s all one power, really. I’m not the kind of psychic who reads thoughts outright, or moves objects with my mind, but I can feel other minds. I can reach out to them, and do one of two things—hurt or heal. This extends further into small bodily injuries like that little scar under your mask.”

“Lucky guess,” said War, referring to the scar he’d gotten from flying shrapnel one day.

“Not at all. The way your mind treats it is something from over a decade ago, but not so ancient as your childhood.”

“If one more person calls me old, I’m going villain-side.”

“I can eliminate that scar now if you wish.”

“Not sure how I feel about this. Walter, why don’t you say something?”

Walter got done slurping a noodle from the linguini with alfredo sauce he had warmed up for lunch. He exchanged glances with the two men while chewing on it, and, rather than say whatever was crossing his mind, and there was a lot of it, Walter lifted the next noodle with his fork.

“Always a paragon of wisdom and virtue, isn’t he?” asked Psi Wizard.

“You don’t know the half of it,” War Lagoon stated, on the edge of shuddering. “Anyways, to answer your question, I just don’t know how I feel about someone touching me in the face unless it’s someone I don’t like.”

“Otherwise, you’d love to be rid of that scar?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Your mind did. And you’re welcome.” The natural cheeriness to his voice somehow changed. It only confused War Lagoon more to think about it then.

“Any more tricks you’d like to perform for us?” asked Walter. He could guess what just happened, but he was waiting for Jeff to tell him about the scar later.

Psi Wizard said, “Maybe one more before I go. I often bring a top hat with me in the event that there’s someone I can entertain with magic tricks.”

“Magic tricks in a city full of actual magic and superpowers, you say?”

“The kids love it. Here, I wonder which hat I brought this time?” Psi Wizard fiddled with the one he previously had sitting on the ground by the blue portal. His arm reached into it up past his elbow until he found something. “Ha, it’s this one. I thought I lost it.”

As he pulled out of his hat, the headstock and neck of a guitar appeared. The neck eventually stopped when the main body of the guitar snagged against the inside of the hat.

Psi Wizard muttered, “Oh, that’s right.” Then he shrugged with a smile, and swung the guitar and hat against the ground. The neck slipped out of his hands, and he threw them into the air. “Good night, Paragon!”

The hero backed into the blue pillar, and left without his now-demolished prop.

“What just happened?” asked War Lagoon.

Walter responded, “I don’t know, but I think I want him.”

“He did sound cool, I suppose,” said a third voice.

The two men at the table turned to find Mortar Mage standing by them. He was wiping his hands with a towel.

Mortar said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I fixed your microwave.”

“It’s supposed to be brand new,” said War Lagoon.

“Yeah, and it looked like it was going to expire the day after your warranty. No more of that silly little nonsense. Also, because I’m awesome, and the repair was boring, I threw in strobe lights and a disco ball inside your break room. Judging by the looks on your faces, I should probably get going before I wear out my welcome.”

War Lagoon handed him a pen and a notepad that had been flipped to a blank page. He said, “Please sign this with your contact info.”

Psi Wizard had left without leaving behind any way to contact him, but Walter smirked at the blue pillar. He knew the man was coming back sooner or later.

***

A caped mime stood in front of the blue pillar, and he was doing his full mime routine, pretending that a bag he’d brought with him was a criminal. The bag moved with his “invisible rope.”

Walter leaned over and whispered to his buddy, “I thought mimes were villains?”

War Lagoon had no words for that.

***

“What hands are here? Ha!” exclaimed a hero.

A second one entered, and wasted no time interrupting him. “Hey, jerk! I told you to stop copying my Shakespeare bits.”

“They’re wasted on the likes of you.”

The two “heroes” turned to wrestling with one another. War Lagoon opened a pair of black portals so that they would fall into the blue pillar and leave. Both he and Walter sighed.

***

“I . . . am Doctor Aardvarkian!” He wore only his mask, a speedo, and a matching pair of boots, to go with his tubby physique.

Both Walter and War Lagoon, who each averted their eyes in varying ways, said, “No.”

***

A young woman entered the base, bursting with energy and confidence. She eyed both Walter and War Lagoon and said, “Oh, it looks like we got a pair of strapping young men.”

While the female hero closed in on the table, Walter looked around the entrance area confused. “I’m sorry?”

“I heard you were looking for a good time. I didn’t bring any beer, but I’ll make my stay worth your while. Where’s the music at?”

“I think you’re a little confused,” Walter said.

“Aren’t you the guys who posted those ads all over the place for supergroup member tryouts? Just point the way, and I’ll be your one-woman party if I have to.”

War Lagoon said, “You’re a confident one. If you can do anything solo like some hot shot, then why are you here? Better yet, why should we take you on as opposed to the other applicants? Being a hero isn’t some frat or sorority party.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having a blast while saving others. Besides, what sense is there in doing it alone?

“Fair enough. What do we call you? And what exactly do you do?”

“Princess Undercut. I’m a martial artist with invulnerability.”

Both men were impressed. Walter said, “Smart, taking up fighting skills so you don’t have to rely on your superpower.”

“Haha . . . That’s where you’re wrong, sweety. I acquired my mutant power after mastering my third fighting style. I was on my way to work on my fourth when it happened last year.”

“How many styles do you know now?”

“Still only four, which is a step up from half of my brothers. But, I practice them every day when I’m not too busy working or having a blast at some party. Now, I have a question for you. How many others have you recruited for your supergroup?”

The blue pillar chimed again.

Psi Wizard appeared and said, “Excuse me. Sorry to bother you again, but it seems I’ve misplaced my . . . hat.” He was staring right at Princess Undercut. “You!”

The female hero exhaled heavily through her nose. She replied, “You too, huh? Fine, I guess we’re not getting away from one another any time soon.”

“I’m not so sure I want to join this group if she’s in it.”

“Likewise, but it looks like he was here first.”

War Lagoon said, “You’re both promising candidates. If we can’t have both of you, then we don’t want either of you. Either learn to work together, or you can get out of here and take your issues with you.”

“What?”

“Supergroups go beyond just being teams. If there’s friction between us, then we won’t last against a simple bank burglary. Someone innocent might get hurt or worse as a result. Is that what either of you wants as heroes?”

“Or human beings in general?” Walter chimed in.

Princess Undercut and Psi Wizard stared at one another for a time after the latter collected his hat. Their expressions were hard to read.

Finally, Princess Undercut said, “Fine, I guess we’ll talk this out. Do either of you guys have a map of this base so we can do just that while we walk around?”

“This isn’t the city park, you know,” said War Lagoon.

Walter pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Princess Undercut. He said, “We don’t have much yet, but go wild. And please don’t do anything to our microwave.”

***

“Twenty-three applicants,” Walter said with his head and arms bundled together on the table. “Why didn’t we just form a team and do things the 'normal' way?”

War Lagoon said, “You’re the one who insisted that normal is boring.”

“Yes, and look at where we’re at now. We’re closer to opening a psych ward for heroes than we are to creating a dignified and super effective task force.”

“At least we got some contact information out of this little event. We can probably make a team out of what we have and do something so utterly heroic and crazy that no one would see it coming.”

“That’s a terrible idea and I love it. Dear, oh dear. See what today’s interviews have done to me? I’m starting to agree with the madness of it all.” Walter raised his head. “Time’s almost up on our agreement with the B-P-S. So maybe we should call it a day. I wanted this to work.”

“We both did. Maybe it has, and we don’t know it yet.”

“Since no one else is coming, let’s pack up.”

The universe does love its cues, and that must have been one because the pillar of light chimed once again.

A young man entered whose costume seemed to be a dedication of frosty windows. He said, “Sorry I’m late. Are the auditions still going?”

Walter and War Lagoon were both about to turn the man away as gently as either one of them could manage—which, for War, would have meant “Get out, kid,” or something like it—when Princess Undercut’s ecstatic voice filled the base and cut them short.

“Yes! Yes!”

“Well,” said Walter, resituating himself on his chair, “we heard the lady.”

Adamast Cross got his interview.

And, the following weekend, the Dallevan League was born, rather fittingly, outside an insane asylum.

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Chapter 19
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Half of the alleys in Paragon looked indistinguishable from one another, down to the placement of their doors and dumpsters. Yet, Maryann found herself in the same one she had visited only days before.

Either that, or there was another around Galaxy Park or Steel Canyon with a former den, and current crime scene, at the end that had been taped off.

Come to think of it, that’s Paragon for you.

Men died here. Mary’s conscience nearly did as well. How someone’s life could turn upside down so many times without ever landing on its feet, she did not know. Maybe she didn’t want to know, but here she was, gazing upon the place in which it happened.

Kyra appeared behind her by dropping the electric field that tricked all light around her. Mary turned and saw Kyra.

No words. There was none either one of them could find. However, their arms and bodies found one another at last. No one was going to deprive them of that. Not now, not ever again. Time could try, but over an hour would pass before even time decided that now was their moment.

“I still need to turn myself in you know,” whispered Kyra.

Mary said, “No, you don’t. We’ve both done things. So have the others. As fucked up as it sounds, we don't have to go anywhere.”

“Then what should I do?”

“Do the only thing either of us can do. Do right as a person, then as a hero.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Then we’ll figure it out together. For everyone’s sake.”

“Mary, why did you leave me back in Nerva? And why do I still love you so much after that? I should be pissed at you and plotting my revenge for breaking my heart, but I want to make this work between us more than ever.”

“I’m a woman now.”

“I don’t care. Love is love.” She rested a hand on Mary’s cheek. “Besides, you really can’t use that as an excuse when you were a man the day you left me.”

“No. No, I can’t. I haven’t been fair to you, have I? You have a right to know the truth. A right to know what I was afraid of back then.” Mary grabbed Kyra’s hand. “Let’s go.”

Kyra and Mary found the nearest blue pillar after about ten minutes of running across Galaxy Park. Mary kept a slow pace for Kyra the whole way since the latter didn’t have enhanced speed like Mary did.

“What are we doing here? I thought you were going to explain yourself.” Kyra asked.

Mary said, “It’ll be best if you see while I’m trying to explain her to you. Besides, I’ve decided that alley we were in was not the best place for this.”

“Her? Who are you talking about? Mary . . . .”

“Come on, let’s enter the League’s base. I will explain everything there.”

They accessed the Blue Portal System’s interface then. Each tried one time to select the Dallevan League. Nothing happened.

Mary tried again. It was still no good.

The air hissed like an alley cat mere feet from their side, and a circular hole opened in the same space. Mary recognized it as an arcane portal. She had her reservations, and was about to run when a voice, Warren’s voice, called from the other side.

“Mary, Kyra, hurry inside. The B-P-S blocked our access into the base. Someone’s going to be on their way soon to investigate the pillar, so hurry.”

They didn’t need another invitation. They required only a second to shrug before running and jumping into the portal. It closed right behind them.

Warren sat in a recliner chair, not even looking at the portal closing in the room behind him. He was watching the news on television, as Mary noticed seconds later. The Vambracemen and a number of heroes were under investigation for what had happened the day before.

“For a company that practically pulled out of the metahuman capital of the world,” said Warren, his voice impeded, “the B-P-S sure acted fast.”

“Is this your house?” asked Mary. “It looks like it might be bigger than the estate I was staying at.”

“It's marginally bigger. And no. A friend and business partner bought this place for cheap at an auction when he thought he might need a place to crash whenever he was in town. That only ever happens once or twice a year, so he lets me pay for the utilities and use most of the house as I need to. It’s got a great basement for a larger lab than I actually have set up down there.” Was there a tired slur in his voice?

“Warren? You’re talking like you’re drugged out of your mind.”

“Am I? I suppose it can’t be helped. I’ve gone the two nights without sleep, and a third only half deprived.”

Warren pointed to a table with books and printed packets on gadgets, runes, and arcane history. Also among the materials were schematics for a few machines that neither Mary nor Kyra had the slightest inclination to try to understand.

Kyra said, “That table looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in weeks.”

“That’s all from the past day, actually. I sometimes wish I had a second table and a lab assistant.”

Maybe he thought he finally found one in that mage, who was now gone. Maybe it bothered him that he declared there would be no more losses, and yet there were three in the last battle. Warren did not know. He got up and picked up a few closed vials, filled with a translucent lime green fluid and a few wires.

“I made this for the anomaly scanner,” Warren said. “I’ll be able to make it so the machine doesn’t drain energy like an army of competitive eaters at a buffet. Here I’ve found some possibilities on how to deal with your tactile hypnosis, as well as a diagnostic spell, but every one of them requires physical contact between you and the mage casting them, so we'd need to find a female one we can trust. I’ve looked through my records and notes on alternate ways to beat that Abomination of Tribunals; all I found were references to forbidden records as to where that monster had come from, and a means to go somewhere with a pool of magical energy like a battery. Yet, if I did manage to bring that with me, everything happened too fast for me to explain that I had the power already to destroy that thing, or seal him away if I knew how. No matter how much time I spend looking through this or thinking about what I could have done differently, I always come to the same conclusion. It’s not enough. What I do is never enough.”

“No one blames you, Warren,” said Mary. “I tried blaming myself for not knowing enough about Max or Genine or Sean. I blamed Tatiana for pulling me away when I thought I could have saved them. I might have hurt her in the process.”

“I did the same with Jeff when he carried me away from the stronghold. So, now that I know where our base is, I plan to go there later to enter them as honorary members of our group. They deserve more, but it’s the least of what I can do.”

Kyra said, “I still don’t understand. You said you would have survived that blast, but scarred by the magic?”

“Ah, yes, that.”

“Why wouldn’t those two mages have survived?”

“It’s because energy has to be directed. Higher level spells, regardless of their nature or whether you like to use runes, require a lot of energy. Tell me, have you ever lit a match and held it for a while? Have you ever jumped from a roof that was high enough and rolled on the ground upon landing to keep from breaking your bones? Energy always has to go somewhere. When you borrow magical energy from an external source, such as any realm, you have to keep it in motion and release it, often return it to where it originated, or else it will linger and burn.”

“You would think that casting a powerful spell would release that energy.”

“Not all of it. A small amount stays behind. One of the earliest lessons mages are supposed to learn is the technique to return the remaining energy to the world. The higher the level of the spell, the more likely that there will be damage to the human body if not handled properly.”

“I’m not sure I get it, but I’ll take your word for it,” Kyra lamented.

Mary said, “Maybe they learned before joining the Circle? Maybe they survived.”

Warren shook his head. He said, “I went back as soon as I was able. You don’t want to know what I saw; I’ve never seen it that bad.”

Arcane scars were never pretty. Enough of it in a short time was deadly.

“I’m sorry,” said Warren.

Mary asked, “Did they suffer too much before it happened?”

“There’s no real way to tell without getting closer and examining them more thoroughly.” Most of the stronghold had been cordoned off by law enforcement by the time he got there, and Warren could only get so far with a reporter’s pass. But, he did see enough for his stomach’s sake. “Believe there was little pain, and honor their memory. Honor them regardless.”

“Like Judy.”

A burst of flames rode up Warren’s arm and dissipated. “Like Judy,” he repeated, walking away. “Excuse me, I have to get ready. I’ve got a couple places to go today.”

Kyra, who was looking at some picture frames, picked one up that showed everyone she knew from the Dallevan League plus two other people. Even the kinder Vambraceman she had met last weekend appeared with his casual civilian outfit. They all did, except for the man Kyra did not recognize, who wore a tailored suit.

Who wears a suit to a pizza party?

Warren’s voice called from another room, “So where are you guys staying?”

“Nowhere yet,” said Mary. “I tried going back to the estate, but it felt empty without the others there. Empty and painful. So I spent the night on the roof of my aunt and uncle’s.”

“On the roof? Really?”

“I still haven’t talked to them or shown my face since the transformation happened. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“’Hey, guys, I’m back, and by the way, I’m a sex-crazed woman with horns now.’ Something like that?” He walked back out, refreshed as if he crammed a twenty-minute shower in less than one. Warren had on his pants and socks, but was only starting to put on his shirt.

Mary cleared her throat, and Kyra fought off a blush. Then she noticed something when Warren pulled his shirt down over his head.

“What is that?” Kyra asked.

“What’s what?” said Warren.

“It looked like a long strip of paper on your back.”

“Ah. I thought my back felt a little funny. Totally forgot to take that off. I don’t know why it didn’t come off in the shower either. Could you peel it off for me real quick?” Warren lifted the back of his shirt so she could reach it.

The paper came off with a rip, revealing some runic markings on either side of Warren’s spine. The man squirmed too before letting his shirt come down again.

“Again,” said Kyra, “what is that?”

“It’s a personal field that wards or confuses the eyes of anyone with god blood, enhanced foresight, or psychic power. I’ve been meaning to test it on demons since the Circle moved into Paragon.”

“You’re still the same enigma as always,” interjected Mary.

“Thank you. Now, you’re probably wondering why I wear that. Ever since I met my father, I have felt . . . watched. Not in a paranoia sense of the word. It’s more like I’m aware of the eyes that have been looking at all of us this whole time. It’s more than one pair, and, whenever their gaze feels strong or I feel the need to get work done with one of my hundreds of projects, I put these runes on. My girlfriend probably thinks it’s silly. She’s yet to say.”

Warren clapped his hands together, and continued. “Anyways, I need to go. You’re welcome to hang around here for a little while until I get back, or you can let yourselves out and use the key under that fruit basket. I don’t know how my buddy would feel about you guys sleeping here or anything, so let’s not push it just yet until I talk with him. Mary, I have an issue of SAM on the table there with your name on it. It’s got an article you and Kyra may wish to read. Also, I’m sure the others already know, but please use the phone to call them and let them know the base can’t be accessed right now.”

In all that time, he was ready to go, and one foot out the door.

Mary stopped him by saying, “Warren, wait. Your girlfriend. Is she . . . Maybe you should bring her along sometime to meet everyone.”

Warren looked back with a hint of sadness to his eyes. He said, “I would like that.”

Then he left.

Maryann sat down on a reclining chair and said, “That went well. Poor guy; he’s really been hit hard by more than the rest of us, I think. I sometimes wonder if he’s really coping with it, or if it’s bottling up until the day he does something really stupid or dangerous. I’m not sure if I’d stop him either.”

“Because you’re friends?” Kyra asked

“Kindred spirits. We drifted out of contact five years ago, but knew where to find one another in times of need. Four years ago, I thought I saw him on the verge of tears, then I turned to look again, and he was gone. I wanted to chase after him to find out what that was about, but I didn’t.”

“That was about the time you started protecting my mom and me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was. I really am sorry, by the way. Leaving you was a stupid thing to do. And here I was, thinking I’d be able to show you Judy. Thinking I could try to justify what I did.”

Kyra joined her on the chair with the picture still in hand. She pointed to the young girl.

“Is this her? Something about her seems familiar.” Kyra said, “Why don’t you tell me about her?”

***

Jeff stood on a hill overlooking the construction site, which was running progressively smooth and seemingly faster with every passing day. If he was a fool, he would walk away and let the project be finished on its own.

Chances were that it would need him only after his departure, and it would need him about as much as he still needed that paycheck.

Deciding to join back with the rest of the crew again, Jeff took a step to the side before he turned. Seconds later, his ears and nose were trying to decide which came first, the stench or the thump of a brutish villain—even larger in stature than Jeff already was—as he landed on the hill.

“Hello again, hero,” said Trash Knuckle. The villain choked in laughter.

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Chapter 20
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Trash knuckle was on the edge of the neutralizing field when it had formed. By the time his flying powers had come back, the towering man was badly hurt from crashing into the side of Striga Isle and in need of medical help, regardless of his criminal background.

“You want to know why I hate heroes?” asked Trash Knuckle. Jeff only stood and listened with a straight face. “Your need to help people, regardless of where they come from or what they’ve done. It’s the fact that you could have let me die or take my injuries from that fall, but slipped a medport device on my body. Because of you, I was saved before the doctors realized I wasn’t you.”

Jeff said, “So what? You want me to beat the shit out of you now?”

“Tempting, tempting. No, hero, I owe you now. I hate owing people anything, least of all a do-gooder.”

“You’re a villain.”

“Which only means I play by my own rules. You should know that by now. Your heroic stench outlasts the time any current hero has spent being active. What were you before you were a hero? A soldier? A boy scout? Some pipsqueak that liked to go around picking up the trash? Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. My point is that I owe you a favor. You better find something soon, hero. I don’t want any punks to confuse my honor for patience or weakness.”

With another fit of coughed-up laughter, Trash Knuckle flew into the air.

“That’s just what I needed,” said Jeff.

***

Runes weren’t everything in magic. Far from it, but they did provide a level of convenience on par with flying or arcane portals. Warren especially loved flying around in his hero attire, and testing out new gadgets as long as he could carry them, whether the gadgets were heavier on the technical or scientific side of things, or were infused with magical runes.

However, right now he was in civilian clothing, albeit a little classier than he normally dressed in this sort of attire. Warren, a known magic user, opened a portal on the edge of his buddy’s yard, and passed the threshold.

He lost count of how many times he’d done this over the years, but Warren kicked himself yet again upon seeing that he was outside of a cemetery. The cemetery. Oh, he meant to come here. In the past five years he meant to actually go in there, but he never made it past the front gate after creating one excuse or another.

It was a secure cemetery located well beyond the limits of Paragon City. Grave robberies here were not a thing, unlike other cemeteries around the world, but the security sure was nice to have.

This cemetery was as much home to an old friend as any dead person could call home. So, of course Warren kicked himself. He was a brilliant scientist and magic user who often used his talents against villains, but it baffled him as to why he had never once entered since the service, and even back then never got close to the one grave.

“Excuse me,” said an older woman who rested her hand on Warren’s arm after she had approached from behind. She had seen him outside the cemetery a couple of times out of every year.

Warren nearly freaked out and flew away. His heart was already trying.

The older woman said, “I couldn’t help but notice you out here. Are you lost? Looking for someone?”

Meanwhile, Warren was seeing too much of his old friend in the woman. She had the same dark hair and eyes. They knew of one another, but never really spoke until now.

“What’s the point?” Warren tried to say gently. “Why do I come here thinking I’ll see her? It’s in the past; it’s done and gone.”

“It’s not the past if it’s in front of you,” she said. “It’s not the past if you don’t move forward.”

“Alright then, what would you have me do? Some things hurt more than we dare to imagine.”

“Walk with me. At least as far as my baby girl. Come, come.”

Mai wrapped her arm around his, and, despite her figure inching towards being frail, she led him with remarkable strength onto the cemetery grounds. Warren resisted a snarl with every step. The older woman was right. Lashing out at her was not going to help. But, then her familiarity became ever clearer the closer Warren got to her daughter’s grave. If he had felt any weaker at the knees when they were close enough, Warren would have collapsed.

Yet, somehow, she lent him the strength to go further.

Running away was no longer an option, and Warren gazed upon the stone sticking out of the ground. He was finally here; this was the grave he had avoided for five years. He read the imposed name to himself.

***

“Judy Tanimoto,” said Mary, “the youngest member of our supergroup. You might have heard of her under another name—Pixeletta.”

“Pixeletta,” Kyra echoed.

Of course she had heard of her. Hearing the name now lifted a fog that was the chaos of Kyra’s adolescence, during which time she remembered going to a different middle school from the young heroine. She recalled the supergroup that Pixeletta was a part of, but the media hardly talked about them as much as they did the one member. So this was them.

Mary said, “There have been other teenage heroes, of course, but very few as successful as she was without the aid of a youth group like META. To us she was like a little sister we all wanted, and to Paragon she was practically a celebrity. Even some of the criminals and villains loved her.”

“I vaguely remember hearing about her. About what happened, I mean,” Kyra said.

“She would be your age now. You both had electric powers, though hers were more offensive in combat, and you each had estranged parents under different circumstances. Yours got back together while hers only tried before her father did the unthinkable.”

“It must have hurt, for everyone.”

“Still does. The longer we dated, the more I saw of her even though you’re clearly two different people. I wasn’t sure I could go on like that.”

Kyra kissed Mary gently. “Then let’s make sure, damn sure, together. I doubt she’d want you giving up a good thing on her account. Call it intuition.”

“I’m so glad you never gave up on me.”

“Never give up on yourself, Mary. I'll never forgive you if you do.”

***

Warren found the strength to rest a hand on the grave marker, which read in its epitaph, “A sister to heroes everywhere.”

“I’ve been such a fool,” he said. “Five years of denial, thinking that she would be standing right there when I turned around. Mrs. Tanimoto, can you ever forgive me?”

Judy’s mother Mai said, “This may sound trite, but I have no right to forgive you. That lies in you alone. I have seen a few of the others who visit, and every one of them feels some amount of blame for what happened to her. It was nothing any of you did or didn’t do. If anything, you carry this weight around you when you’re off to save countless lives or change the world for the better. What you need to do is ask yourself how you can do the world any good carrying this great rock on your shoulders. What you need to do is ask how she would react if my baby girl saw you. You’re heroes; save her memory, not her tragedy.”

She cried again. She always cried when she thought about losing Judy and being on the other side of the country when it had happened. Warren saw this, and bowed a few inches to comfort her with a hug.

Mai said, “I’ll be fine. But, you,” she broke away and put her hands on Warren’s shoulders, “talk to her. Do it before you go. I’ll be right back.”

For the first time ever, Warren was alone with Judy’s grave. Talking to the dead sounded odd, even to Warren, but he was at least familiar with the idea. With a sigh and a heavy heart, he smiled and turned to the stone and sat cross-legged. He spent an innumerable amount of prolonged seconds, stretched beyond the imagination, trying to find something to say. Some way to break the awkward silence.

“Hello,” said Warren. “I’ve taken too long, I know. If you can hear me, all I want to say is, I miss having you there to tell me when I’m wrong, even when I know I’m not. I miss having you there to challenge me to use my science and magic to greater heights because of that wonder in your eyes. I miss trying to lecturing you on morals and ethics and realizing that I needed someone to say the same stupid things to me during half my experiments.

“Judy, thank you for being the only sister I had. Well, there’s Mary now, but you were the one and only back when it was us and David. I have to wonder what you’d make of her transformation. I can still hear your laugh and your cheer. We can all use it right about now. This new girl, Kyra, she’s similar in age and abilities, but she isn’t you. You’ll always have a place in our family, even the way things are. Yeah, I think that’s what we need, to be a family again.” Warren stood up with a start. “You’ve given me an idea. Maybe twenty. I have to go.”

He ran past Judy’s mother on the way out of the cemetery, saying “Thank you!” as he did so.

Mai Tanimoto merely smiled back at him, then returned to her daughter’s grave with lilies in hand.

***

Warren’s girlfriend dwelled “on the edge of everything.” He ran in, hurrying through a few pieces of equipment. Tawnya wouldn’t mind, she never did. Warren laughed like an excited schoolboy as he collected what he needed.

“Sorry I can’t stay,” he said aloud, hoping his girlfriend would hear him. “I’m inspired with nowhere to run but forward.”

He passed the chamber on his way out. There were four perfect androids that remained in suspended animation. Warren had nothing to do with how or why they were built, but plenty to do with why they slumbered. Only one truly interested him.

There was only one female among them. The plaque above her originally read “TOY SOLDIER MODEL 0107. CODENAME: TOYENNA,” but the name Tawnya had been written over it diagonally with a florescent blue marker.

Warren had many promises to keep, including one to himself that he would wake her without ending the world. But, he had a lot of work to do yet.

“I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.” He ran past the chamber to the exit.

***

Tatiana got intimately close to the mirror in her living room, and applied the last of her mascara as well as another bandage for her forehead. Damn civilian appearances.

Wyatt was on the couch—the television was on mute and set to a random channel neither of them watched—looking through a few DVDs.

“Are you sure you can’t stay home tonight?” he asked.

She responded, “I’m sorry, but my brother Cisco filled in for me, so I agreed to take his Saturday shift this week.”

“I really wanted to spend time with you. Especially after that fight you got in with Mary.”

“We both need time. You go ahead and enjoy the cheesiest 80’s action flick you can find. Make it a marathon and order a pizza if you like. You know I’ll be home late.”

“Maybe I’ll find something more suitable for our guests.”

"What guests?” asked Tatiana.

“The two coming up the driveway now. One of them feels really nervous, though I can’t exactly say why.” Wyatt’s wife sped off toward the front door, but he stayed where he was and muttered, “Because you’ve already figured it out.”

Tatiana opened the front door a split second before the bell rang. Then she saw her two visitors, and couldn’t decide if the bell bothered her more or if she simply didn’t want to see them right now.

Maryann and Kyra both stood there. The former raised a hand as if to wave, but it was pathetic and she felt the urge to run.

Instead, Mary said, “Uh, hi.”

Tatiana folded her arms and leaned on her doorframe while Mary and Kyra stood still on her front porch.

Five years ago, David and Tatiana—or rather Adamast Cross and Princess Undercut—had gotten along very well, but had never truly befriended one another directly. It was more like they had shared in the same circle, the same family, without needing to take it any further.

Yet, that did nothing to quell the hurt either of them felt from yesterday morning. Princess Undercut had saved Adamast’s life, causing her to leave behind people she cared for, and Adamast exploded verbally in her face and wrestled free of her after they teleported. Adamast used her super reflexes to hit her ally faster than Princess Undercut could react, and then stormed off. Things were calmer now, but the silence now was equally harsh.

Mary and Kyra each searched for what to say, but they had no more luck now than they had on the way to Tatiana’s and Wyatt’s home. Mary said the most, if it could be counted as speech at all that she choked out a few incoherent sounds.

After moments passed, Tatiana rolled her eyes and said, “Please just come inside. This is getting ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” started Mary, “you might be right about that.”

Maryann shifted the bag she carried with a few of her belongings, and followed Tatiana into her home with Kyra trailing behind her.

“I’m sorry I can’t stay and chat, but I have to go to work,” said Tatiana. “Wyatt’s here, so watch out for his bad jokes.”

“They’re not that bad,” exclaimed Wyatt from the other room.

“But, make yourselves comfortable until I get back late tonight. We’ll talk then. You don’t mind waiting, do you?”

“Not really,” said Mary. “By the way, what’s with the band-aid?”

Wyatt poked his head from around a corner and said, “Have a good day at work, hon. Mary, Kyra... hi. I was getting ready to watch a movie if you want to join me.”

The girls all nodded. Then Mary turned back to Tatiana and repeated, “So, what’s with the band-aid?”

Tatiana only laughed and nabbed the keys from the hook she kept them on. She made for the garage with one last “Later, Mary! Keep her out of trouble, Kyra.”

Mary and Kyra shrugged to one another, then walked toward the living room where their remaining host was sitting.

“So, movie night, huh?” asked Mary.

Wyatt said, “We usually do something fun, eat a quick dinner, and flip a coin on what to do next. Sex or crime fighting.”

“That sounds like a good use of Saturday.”

“You two should try it sometime.”

Kyra coughed. She wasn’t ready for that one. Considering what had happened the last time she and David had anything resembling sex, she doubted anyone could blame her hesitation either.

“Go ahead, take a seat somewhere!” Wyatt suggested. He quickly hummed and switched over from the couch to the chair. “Probably better this way with your touch thing you have going on.”

Mary accepted graciously, as did Kyra. Their things now sat at the corner of the sofa.

“How’s your job, by the way?” asked Mary. “You were still at the start of your career the last time I asked about it.”

“I think I was just finishing my sixth month in the hospital wing's main staff, yeah,” agreed Wyatt.

“He’s a doctor when he isn’t saving lives,” Mary said to Kyra.

“A pediatrician, mainly. I can’t tell you how fun it is to deal with parents who think their kids are freaks due to superpowers, gender dysphoria, or what have you. Or how hard it is to look at children with any number of diseases that will probably kill them within the year. Either way, I conceal my empathic masteries and minor healing abilities all the while using my charm to help those kids.”

Kyra said, “That’s commendable.”

“Lately, I’ve been at Founder’s because the clinic in Talos is still under reconstruction. It will be for a few more days. I will sometimes wander into other wings of the hospital to see if I can slip in my talents elsewhere, but, at Founder’s, there’s a man who's been seen by so many psychics, every one of them coming to the same conclusion. Part of me wants to go meet this man, but I can do nothing about it without giving myself away, or taking away from everything else I do.”

“Like watching movies on a Saturday night,” said Mary.

“Like spending quality time with my wife. Tonight’s the odd one out. What have you got planned?”

“Actually, the plan was to tell you and Tatiana that the base is currently closed off, and then we were going to look for a place to stay for a while. Maybe beat up a bad guy or two along the way.”

“Sounds productive, too productive. I can’t speak for my wife, even if I wanted to read her thoughts, but we have a spare room you both can use for the time being. Now, about that movie... Why don’t you look through our collection and choose what we’ll watch, and I’ll go grab something from the kitchen. Want anything: juice, water, beer?”

“I’ll take a beer,” said Kyra.

“How old are you again?”

“I’m twenty.”

“Twenty’s a little young, don’t you think?”

“I used to sneak a bottle or two each week I was with Nightmare’s Militia.”

“Right. Juice for you. Mary, anything?”

***

The ending credits of the third movie in a Western trilogy had been playing in the living room when Tatiana entered the house through the garage. It was a long shift at work, during which the main highlight was her . . . very interesting . . . conversation with a blond woman with rose petals in her hair.

”You don’t even need that band-aid.”

“No, I was keeping up appearances. Thank you.”

Among other things, Tatiana had given the woman an address to a clubhouse that threw the best parties, and then, when their little chat was over, she sighed and removed the band-aid.

She stepped into the living room, and was immediately greeted by three people. Their faces were in an elated stupor that could only come from a marathon of movies that lasted close to seven hours. Sure enough, DVD cases sat on the coffee table for the whole trilogy that had just wrapped up before Tatiana got in the door.

“Hey! The pizzas are running a few minutes late, hon,” said Wyatt. “How was your day?”

“It was one of those days where I don’t even know yet. I’ll let you know later after I've finally told myself.” She walked around and tapped on Mary’s leg. “Move over? Thank you. Now, about that talk.” Tatiana tilted her tired head at her friend sitting next to her. “Don’t even worry about it.”

“But I said things,” said Mary. “Harsh things. I even hit you. I still feel the need to say I’m sorry.”

“You were hurt, I get that. Just promise me you won’t do that again, and we’ll be cool. I am sorry you lost your friends, you know, but we’re still here for you. You don't have to grieve on your own like some dumb bitch.”

“How can you forgive me at the drop of the hat like that?”

“I don’t. But, I’m tired as fuck right now, and we’re basically sisters. If you explode in my face again I’ll kick your ass, but still, I can totally understand if you need time to cope with something, or if you need help, or whatever really.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.” Mary stated.

“What about me?” asked Kyra.

Tatiana said, “We’ve barely met, sweety, but you’re cool too. Damn it, where’s that pizza? I’m really hungry.”

Wyatt said, “I think that’s the delivery guy coming up the driveway now. Let me go check.”

***

“So, do you two have somewhere to stay tonight?”

“Uh, no, Mary and I were looking for a place, but we have no idea where to go.”

“Take our spare room. Please. This house is way too quiet for the two of us.”

“Serious? Thank you.”

***

“It was nice of them to let us use that bed,” said Kyra, walking in from having brushed her teeth in the restroom.

“Yes, it was,” Mary said. She was reading through the magazine that Warren had lent them.

“Anything interesting in there?”

“Well, sure, if you were a scientist or magic user. Or both. But, the article he wanted us to look at; this is an interesting read. It talks about splitting the soul into an object or another person, and the many dangers that come with it.”

“If only there was a novel series for kids that warned about such a thing.”

Mary huffed a laugh as Kyra joined her on top of the bed that had been covered with a minimal number of sheets. Luckily the weather was warm enough that neither woman needed a comforter or other extra layers.

“It says that the body was meant to house the entire soul,” said Mary. “Tearing at it is painful all on its own. The further the object used is from the main body, the more quickly the body becomes exhausted. Reuniting the pieces of the soul is equally painful.”

Kyra said, “Note to self, no stabbing myself in the chest with a ritual knife.”

“The article stresses the dangers and argues against anyone wishing to try it for self-preservation. However, if you wake up after a long night of partying with half of your soul trapped inside of something, then there’s a ritual for putting it back together. However, it means breaking the object correctly when the time comes, or else you’re pretty much screwed in becoming whole ever again.”

“Imagine some female mage with half of herself inside of a dildo.”

Finally, Mary moved her eyes from the magazine toward Kyra.

“Narcissism at its erotic limits. Let’s just hope the fragment of the soul is inside the actual toy, and not the batteries. That might make things very difficult.”

“Kyra . . . .”

“What? I know, you’re saying that Warren’s magazine is telling us we’re practically soul mates, and we need to stay together. And you know what?”

“What?”

“I’m perfectly alright with that.” Kyra kissed Mary.

The energy between them shifted. Not in a sexual way, but definitely in a “Holy chemical lab explosion, Captain Patriot!” sort of way. It felt so different from the times they had kissed when they dated as David and Kyra, and both of them liked it.

“I think I like it too,” said Mary. She kissed back. She wanted so much more than this. But, not tonight. Tonight, simply being with Kyra was more than enough.

-------------
Chapter 22
-------------

All three of the girls stood by the window in the dining room—drinking coffee for Tatiana and Kyra, and tea for Mary—when a massive ship descended into the Earth’s atmosphere. It filled up more than half of the sky above the city.

“Oh look, an alien invasion,” murmured Mary.

They hummed and tilted their heads unevenly. Chances were that they didn’t have to do anything about it, so they just watched.

In the distance a few minor explosions occurred beneath the alien ship. Specks could be seen flying around the ship, presumably heroes and possibly a few villains as well, but there was never any way of telling from a distance as far as this one. It wasn’t like anyone took a census whenever this sort of thing happened either, not in the last five years or longer.

Less than a minute passed since its arrival before the ship lifted out of sight, and away from the planet’s orbit.

Kyra said, “Oh look, they’re leaving.”

This time, their hums were a little more synchronized, and had a touch of sighs to them. Yes, Paragon City was invaded by aliens on a regular basis, but even that one was pathetic in comparison to most of the others.

Drinks resumed while Wyatt appeared briefly to check on the food he had in the oven. The muffins were looking delicious, but they needed more time to be enjoyed. He set the timer for another five minutes and left.

Tatiana waited a moment, and said to the others, “After breakfast, how would you two like to go shopping for some clothes? My treat.”

“I don’t know what to say . . . other than ‘thanks.’” said Mary.

“Don’t mention it. I’ve been looking for a shopping buddy or two since my best friend of fifteen years moved to Washington. Besides, I know you two don’t exactly have much right now.”

“Well yeah. I just . . . I don’t know. There’s no telling how long I’m going to be this way.”

“Then make the most of it. You might think it’s just clothes, but you’ll feel a lot better with more than one thing to wear.”

Kyra asked, “Do you miss being a man that much?”

“I don’t know what I miss,” said Mary. “Part of it’s the idea of committing to being a woman when I simply don’t know if it’ll last, and part of it’s the fact that I’m just not used to it yet. These things are so bouncy and heavy, I haven’t even gotten past that.”

Tatiana and Kyra were laughing hysterically by the time Mary had finished.

“Mary? Sweety?” said Tatiana. “No one ever gets used to having breasts, especially not those enormous things on your chest. Alright, yeah, I’m definitely taking you shopping for clothes, and teaching you some things about make-up. I’m sure Kyra here will help too.”

“My girlfriend’s getting a makeover,” Kyra chimed. “My girlfriend’s getting a makeover.”

Mary didn’t know what to say to that. She was OK with it, but being called someone’s girlfriend was definitely on the line between strange and unique.

***

They left an hour and a half later—Wyatt had said he was fine with their plans, and was going to meet up with War Lagoon anyways to patrol the area—and hit the Steel Canyon Mall since it was closer than the one in Talos.

For the first time in her life as a woman, Maryann found herself being measured. Actually, she had trouble remembering body measurements when she was a guy now that she was thinking about it..

“How did you manage your costume, or other outfits?”

“Just lucky, I guess. Sean had a good eye.”

Mary’s breasts measured in at a full 34DD, beating out Tatiana and Kyra, as well as the vast majority of naturally breasted heroines out there, proportionately speaking. Tatiana crossed her arms and pouted in silence to one side, which was unusual for her, because she was jealous of her friend now that she knew the actual size.

All three of the ladies picked out their outfits after a few hours of more saturated with being social than actually looking for something to wear. Tatiana got one new outfit for herself, and a replacement to a couple pieces of her costume. Mary picked up a couple caps to try drawing attention away from her horns, but most of what she got were outfits for casual and formal occasions.

As for Kyra, it was mainly “smart casual” clothing. Though, she did pick up some lingerie while Tatiana and Mary weren’t looking.

It was when they sat down to eat lunch that a villain crashed into the mall through the skylight. A dark circle, like one of War Lagoon’s, opened next to where the villain landed, and Psi Wizard stepped through.

He checked the battered villain for life threatening injuries, and then detained him before noticing the girls staring and waving from less than a stone’s throw away. None of them said anything so as to not blow their cover, and Psi Wizard left the same way as he entered before the security guards showed up with a police officer.

“Well, that was thrilling,” said Mary with underwhelming enthusiasm. “Now what?”

“We’re seeing a movie after we eat,” replied Tatiana. “Maybe we’ll get a pedi and a mani afterward.” Kyra seemed happy about this plan.

“You actually do that stuff?”

“Of course. And now, so do you.”

“How do you even manage that?” Mary left out the invulnerability part from the question.

“Oh, I know a girl.” She nodded without another word, and continued eating her fries.

***

Hours passed since then. Tatiana decided she had enough for the day now that she was done with dinner, and her husband joined her moments later in their room.

“You know, it’s dawned on me that our walls are not soundproof like the League’s base is,” said Wyatt as he got in bed. “And we’ve got a pair of guests living with us for the time being.”

Tatiana said, “Oh yeah, you’re right.”

“We might have to be a little quiet in our love making.”

“When are we ever quiet?” She laughed.

***

Kyra and Mary kissed with the passion of two stars meeting. The latter pulled away when she felt her lover’s hand on her breast.

“What is it?” asked Kyra.

“I want this so much,” Mary said.

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

“No, I mean . . . I want us. I want to make the most of every moment. But, here? Now? This isn’t our own house, our own bed. And think of the noise.”

“What noise?” Kyra was cute when she hitched a brow at Mary. She was cute anyways, but that expression made her more so.

“Lovemaking isn’t exactly the quietest activity in the world.”

“Oh, that. Seriously? Watch this.” Kyra got up on her knees and hammered her fist against the wall a few times. “Hey, keep it down in there!” She turned back to her lover with a grin. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

Mary took Kyra into her embrace with a laugh. In their continuing kisses, they took off one another’s clothes, piece by piece, which wasn’t much to begin with.

***

Wyatt smirked toward the wall when he heard the forceful knock on the wall. “What was that about?” he asked.

“I think they just challenged us,” Tatiana teased.

“A challenge, you say?”

“Let’s make more noise than we usually do.”

Without another word, Tatiana got on top of her husband and straddled him. He needed no other invitation, and accepted with a series of gropes and caresses of his own.

***

Sexual energy surged and circulated. Kyra felt it radiating from the married couple, Mary got hotter and more passionate, and radiated energy from her succubus powers as a result, and the energy fed into the married couple.

However, Neither Kyra nor Mary cared for anything else right now. Mary felt arousal and pleasure as a woman before, but, in spite of the lack of penetration she so craved, being with Kyra felt so right.

Each woman felt as if she could drive her clitoris into the other’s pussy, and each tried in earnest. Kyra’s teeth clasped gently on Mary’s lower lip, and Mary gasped and moaned in her second orgasm for the evening.

"Somebody really likes this," Kyra said. "I'm glad, but have some more."

They failed to penetrate one another, but they rubbed together, brushing clitoris and love button, kissing with both pairs of lips with oh! so much intimacy. Neither one of them wanted it to end the longer they went.

***

Tatiana took her husband’s rod into her for the unknownth time tonight. Her head swam in ecstasy, and she couldn’t keep track. He pushed against her favorite spot in the whole universe, and she let him.

No, she demanded it, saying, "Yes, there, give me more!"

She felt another orgasm coming, but, even though she lost count of everything already, Tatiana knew the signal that her man was about to pull out again. She jerked her head to one side, and wrapped her legs around him before he had the chance.

Wyatt felt as if he was pushing deeper and deeper into her with every thrust, every rock, and every other motion. He was trapped now, and he did not mind at all.

His load burst into her, taking the gist of his excitement and zeal, but left him more than enough love to last an eternity that he could not hope to see the end of it. He still felt aroused, however, thanks to being surrounded by three women who were close to exhausting themselves. Close to reaching one last climax.

He moved some more, and waited out the final moments before it happened. With his psychic power in effect, what man could possibly stand the coming assault?

Three blissful voices sounded in unison. Their howls could be heard well beyond the walls of the house.

***

Passion dimmed until all that was left was a glow. Mary and Kyra held one another with the world having slipped away from them. Kyra was asleep, and Mary nearly so.

She opened one eye to take another peek at her girlfriend sleeping before her. It was a sight Mary did not want to trade for anything.

Nothing at all.

Mary smiled, but the smile waned quickly when another hand appeared on Kyra’s shoulder. Another woman appeared behind her then. It was the other succubus, and her wicked smile continued while her hand stroked Kyra’s arm gently.

“Hello, darling,” the bad half whispered to the good.

-------------
Chapter 23
-------------

The good Mary stared wide-eyed at her evil half. The last time they met like this, the bad half had made her climax multiple times before saying to the good, “Your way is mine. Go, and be the hero you think you are.” Now, here they were again, halfway between dreaming and being awake.

“What’s wrong, am I not allowed visitations on Sundays?” asked her bad half. “Or I guess it’s Monday now, isn’t it? I’ve never been good at punctuality.”

“What are you planning?” Mary said.

“An epic orgy. A trip to somewhere far away and exotic. Maybe I’ll do both.”

“You and what body, Phoebe?”

The evil one sat still for a moment. For some reason the use of her real name rattled her heart, something she’d never thought she needed. For that matter, she never thought she would ever hear that name again since she was trapped in that artifact centuries ago. She shook it off and regained her composure.

“Oh, come now,” she said to her better half. “Hm, fine choice of words considering how much passion and skin you two just shared. Alright, alright, I promise to behave . . . for now. Just answer me this one question, and do so honestly. Do you care for Kyra?”

Mary said, “Of course I do. I love her.”

“I know that. I know you think you love her, and that you promised to look after her, but do you really care for her. Would you die for her?”

“A second time? In a heartbeat.”

“Good. Good.” Her voice drifted. The succubus was worried, but she could not say why. Some things were better left unsaid, she thought. She hated admitting when something was out of her control.

“You’re hiding something.”

"What? No, I'm not."

"I teach kids at school who are more believable than you."

“Oh, you think so? Fine. I want so much for us all to run away right now. I don't suppose we can, and stir up trouble elsewhere? Make some other country or two out there our brothel for all the world to see and worship? No, I didn't think so. Take good care of her, Maryann, or I’ll make you regret it. Protect her, and yourself, from whatever awaits us. You’ve been able to play hero so far because I’ve let you, because it’s actually fun to watch, but, if you fail to protect her, and not just because she carries a chunk of my soul, then you can kiss everything else you hold dear goodbye.”

Her threat was an endearing one, but a threat all the same.

“Now,” she went on, “about this young, beautiful body lying before us.” Her hand probed Kyra’s sexy shape, starting below her smooth hips.

Kyra, however, muttered through her sleep, “Go back to sleep, Evil Me.”

The succubus smiled, and set her eyes on the good Maryann. Then she vanished, and Mary’s eyes and body suddenly felt quite heavy.

***

Tatiana was working on making breakfast—Wyatt helped, but mostly just sat reading his copy of a medical journal since it was his wife's turn to cook—when Maryann walked into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Mary said. Seconds later, she plopped herself down on a chair by the table.

Disturbed by a number of things, Tatiana turned toward her guest. Mary still had a lot to learn, but Tatiana hoped she wouldn’t strangle the woman before teaching her a few things just this morning alone.

“Mary, sweety,” said Tatiana. “If you’re going to live in my house, then there’s something you need to learn about how you sit.”

Mary realized she came down a little too hard on her seat, and opened her mouth as if to apologize, but then her friend continued.

First, Tatiana raised her free hand into the air with two fingers crossed and pointing down. She said, “Good girl,” the same fingers shifted side-by-side, “nice girl,” and finally spread apart, “slut. Do you think you can remember that?”

Wyatt, barely listening, cleared his throat while resisting the urge to look over toward Mary. Mary glanced down, and saw that her legs were indeed open, and she was slouching besides. She sat up and closed her legs, as well as turned toward the table.

“Being a woman is hard,” remarked Mary.

Tatiana turned back to the stove in time for the beeper to go off. She pulled the bacon from the oven while saying, “In our society? You don’t know the half of it, though you’ve been through a lot in the past week. But, yesterday was nice, huh?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I think getting my nails done was nice. Strange that the girl offered to do my horns.”

“Too bad you turned her down. She looked really eager to make those things look and feel nice for you.”

“Weirdos, all of you.”

“Remember, you’re one of us weirdos now too. Sooner or later you may be tempted to give a hornicure a try. Or whatever it’s called.”*

“We could always ask Warren.”

“Let’s not. Texting hippopotami is hard enough to remember.”

Wyatt gazed up from his journal, and said, “You mean the tactile hypnosis?”

“That’s the one. Hey, maybe all you need is a hornicure, and you’ll be able to touch guys again. Wouldn't that be cool?”

Mary opened her mouth as if to say something, but, instead of her own words coming immediately to respond to that, she heard Phoebe laughing in the corner of her mind. Hahaha, horny.

“Somehow,” said Mary, “I get the feeling that won’t work.”

“That what won’t work?” Kyra said, having just entered the room. She also let down her fake invisibility now that she was dressed, so it looked like she practically walked in from out of nowhere.

“Tatiana thinks I’d be able to touch men again if I let that girl treat my horns yesterday,” said Mary.

“Maybe not, but it would have been one more nice thing in addition to everything else you got to experience. Aren’t you the least bit curious how it would feel to have them cleaned like you did your nails?”

Mary wasn’t about to admit it, but she was curious.

Breakfast consisted of tortillas, eggs, and strips of cheese and bacon. Mary got halfway through eating it when she noticed the time on the clock.

“Holy crap!” she exclaimed.

“What?” asked Wyatt and Tatiana. "Is it that good?"

“It’s 7:40. I’ve got twenty minutes to get to work.”

“Work?” asked Tatiana. “What work?”

“Steel Canyon Intermediate School. I’m gym coach there, or I was . . . as David. Break just ended, and I need to show up if I want to keep my job. No, calling in sick isn't an option right now.”

“You might have other things to worry about, Mary. Besides, I thought break ended last week, like with Founder's Creek.”

“It changes with little rhyme or reason from school to school. The district board thinks it keeps kids from crowding the malls, but what it does is keeps families from going out of town when one kid is in elementary and the other is in high school.”

“That’s stupid.”

“And I have nineteen minutes to clock in and be ready to teach. I know, things will be hard to explain, but I’ll come up with something.”

“How fast can you get ready?”

“Five to ten minutes. Maybe.”

“I’ll get you there. Kyra too if she wants to come.” That seemed to satisfy a silent, but enthusiastic, Kyra. Tatiana went on, “Just finish your breakfast. I have somewhere to go a little after that, myself. An appointment.”

“What kind of appointment?” said Mary.

“A doctor who specializes in metahuman cases. A lady doctor.” She didn’t want to concern anyone with why she was going, and still hoped it was nothing.

Everyone else exhaled audibly, though wordlessly.

***

Mary was the first to be teleported onto school premises, followed by Kyra, since Tatiana could only teleport so many people at once. Luckily, Tatiana knew the school well enough to bring both women to a corner of the girls’ locker room. She once brought lunch to a young friend of hers that had forgotten it that day.

Kyra nearly sighed in disappointment that it wasn’t the other locker room, but then she remembered how young the students were, and it was suddenly for the best.

“OK, girls,” said Tatiana, concealing her identity so that no one could see who had the same sparkly teleportation ability as Princess Undercut. “Have fun, stay out of trouble . . .”

“Find more oxymoron’s to play with,” Mary said.

“. . . and I’ll see you tonight. Mortar’s place. See ya.”

“Hey, wait,” said Kyra, hoping to catch Tatiana before she vanished. “Good luck at the doctor’s. I hope it’s good news.”

Kyra could actually sense it for some reason, but she didn’t want to say anything more than that. Not until Tatiana learned from a medical professional. So, she went no further.

“Thanks, sweety.” Then Tatiana teleported out of sight, mere seconds before the first few girl students walked into the locker room.

***

As it turned out, David’s aunt and uncle had notified the school that he was missing. Mary decided to work with that as best as she could. She would have to explain this to her boss later on, but the kids didn't need to know a whole lot.

Mary and Kyra walked into the gymnasium to find a few classes waiting for their coaches. They approached the one from which there included whispers of Coach Curry being missing. This was David’s—or rather Mary’s—first class of the day.

The ratio of boys to girls was three to two, which was an inverse of the school’s ratio, the last time David checked about a couple months ago. So Mary had to be careful, not knowing how her touch would affect underage boys.

The class saw her and Kyra. A few of them fell silent at first, mostly out of curiosity.

“Alright, everyone,” said Mary, “settle down. Settle down. As you may or may not be aware right now, your coach David Curry is presently unavailable. My lovely assistant here and I will be filling in for him until things are straightened out. Call me Mary, Mary Curry.”

One student raised his hand, and asked, “Are you Coach’s sister?”

“Note the horns.” She pointed to the bulges beneath her beanie. Back as David, he did not get along very well with Jackie. As Mary, she still had no desire to dwell on that, for various reasons. “Now, who here has heard about Coach Hobbs? Lovely lady, loved to teach dancing here before any of you started coming to this school.”

“There’s a small display dedicated to her,” pointed out another student.

“Yes, thank you. Kyra here is her daughter. I know we’re not doing dancing today, but she’ll be helping us out whenever possible. Let’s see, Monday is aerobics day, so everyone on your feet. Stretch and spread out for a moment while I get your roll call completed.”

While the class spread out and started doing their stretches, Kyra looked over at the display case that Mary’s student had mentioned. She hardly remembered the case even being there back when Kyra’s mom had worked here. Kyra had gone to another school than this one, or else she might have met Judy all those years ago.

She approached it when she was able. There were a few ribbons, a couple trophies, and other rewards given to her mother’s students over the years, all dedicated to their teacher. But, standing next to the one trophy belonging to Kyra’s mother herself, there was a picture of her, a ballerina giving a performance to a group of students in the background.

Kyra touched the glass and whispered, “Mom.” She missed her. She missed not having to worry so much about villains or sinister mystics. Kyra thought that, maybe someday soon, everything would be back to normal, and she could be with her mom again.

A deep, guttural laugh echoed around her then. Kyra thought that it was fear creeping up on her, but it was another feeling. A sense of drifting, similar to when she had blacked out and woke up somewhere else a couple times before. When the echo was over, Kyra looked around, but found herself exactly in the same place as she’d been standing before the echo had begun.

Mary called to her. “Are you alright?”

Kyra nodded back. But, really, she was unsure. That laugh; it was familiar. It was evil. And it was calling her.

-------------
Chapter 24
-------------

She had expected the room to be stuffy or decorated with all sorts of diagrams on female physiology, but this one was neither. The air was circulated and filtered silently. The walls had pictures of natural sights around the world. Tatiana examined the pictures for a few minutes before taking out her phone to read something on the Internet. After waiting a considerable while, as was normal with any doctor’s office, she was joined by Doctor Trish Terrell.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” said the doctor. “That’s the second time this week someone tried to abduct me. I trust my staff has already begun the lab work?”

“Um, yes,” said Tatiana. She rubbed her arm, still a little surprised that they had taken her blood so readily and easily.

“Good, good. You’ll find that our tests run faster than most in the country without losing any amount of accuracy, and the results will be as confidential as you want them to be. Now, with this being your first visit here, why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

“There isn’t much to tell without talking about my powers or what I do with them.”

“Also as confidential as you want it to be.” She smiled reassuringly.

“By day, I’m both a housewife and a coffee girl. My family owns those barista carts found around the city’s hospitals and a few other places.”

“Oh right, I was wondering where I’ve seen your face. Go on.”

“By night, I’m a hero with a certain level of invulnerability and teleportation. Which reminds me, I don’t understand how they took my blood so quickly and easily. I never had the chance to warn them about normal needles breaking on my skin.”

“We have a pressing test that tells us which tools to use. Tougher skin and muscles mean a higher end of the spectrum. They’re good at spotting what is needed in no time at all.”

"Still, though, that was a surprise. Five years ago, my friend told me you were the best doctor she had, but I didn’t know you were this good.”

“My staff and I have our moments. So, who was this friend?”

“Judy Tanimoto.”

“Oh yes. Terrible tragedy.” Her mother Mai still came in for check-ups, the doctor noted internally. The topic rarely came up then. “I’m sure you don’t want to talk about that, however.”

“No, I really don’t. I came here, you see, because I’ve been feeling sick at sporadic times, and my boobs have been aching lately.”

“OK, yes, your chart says as much. What about your cravings?”

“What about them?”

“Anything specific lately?”

“Fries with honey, and a little extra salt. It lasted for over a couple weeks.”

“Do you have sex often?”

“Lots with my husband, and proud of it! Oh, I know what you’re thinking. Yes, it’s totally unprotected, and no, we’re not exactly trying to have kids. It’s just that, the possibility never really dawned on either of us.”

“You seem like a perfectly healthy young woman, barring any additional tests I may have to run. There’s no reason you can’t get pregnant.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be pregnant. Tatiana just didn’t want to get her hopes up. She’d spent the last five years acquiescing over the chance that the same accident that gave her powers also took away her ability to have children or start a family, though it sadly didn’t take away her cycle.

Tatiana said, “I have invulnerability, though.”

“So do a number of metahumans out there.” The doctor reminded her. “You’ve probably heard of a few heroes or villains who’ve had children after their invulnerability powers manifested.”

“All of them men.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“You’re the doctor. I can survive being shot at without a scratch like those men can, but they’re the ones doing the penetrating.”

“Mrs. Sanchez-Brooke . . . Mind if I call you Tatiana? Look, you said it yourself that you’re able to have sex. I can only assume you mean vaginally, as oral would be another story. Anyways, it’s you who are invulnerable, not your sex cells. If anything, it’s a wonder that you and your husband went . . . how long without protection? And no pregnancies yet?”

“Five and a half years.”

There was a knock on the door. Doctor Terrell accepted a new folder from the nurse on the other side, and closed the door again before reading its contents.

She then said to her new patient, “Congratulations, you’re going to be a mother.”

***

Mary and Kyra arrived at the front door of Warren’s friend’s house, each with an arm around the other’s waist. The door opened before Mary could knock.

“Hey, guys!” said Tatiana. “Come in, quickly. The party’s just getting started.”

“What are we celebrating?” asked Kyra as she and Mary followed their friend into the mansion.

“Oh, a lot of things, sweety. Besides, who needs a reason to have a good time?”

“It’s still nice to know when there is one.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that. My doctor today eased a bunch of my worries.” In fact, even now, she was still adjusting to the news, herself. Tatiana, pregnant! She would need to tell Wyatt and the rest of her family after she was done telling herself the revelation.

“Oh good, I’m glad.”

“You can sense it, can’t you?” Tatiana asked Kyra.

“I think it’s an effect from the succubus powers. It’s weird, but I guess it’s useful. Somehow? Congratulations, by the way.”

“Please don’t tell anyone. Not yet.”

“Don’t tell anyone what?” asked Mary as they ventured deeper into the mansion.

“You don’t know, but she does? Huh. Well, don’t worry about it. You’ll find out soon enough. I just need time. I’ve never thought that, well . . . ever since I got my powers . . . Oh, never mind. I’m only going to confuse myself more if I keep rambling.”

The ladies reached the room where the men were waiting.

Tatiana continued, “Jeff got a raise at work earlier today. And then there’s Warren. He’s back in one of his inventive moods.”

Mary jested, “I thought we were celebrating, not running for the hills? Warren, what are you doing with those turrets from the base?”

“Cannibalizing them, and salvaging the spare parts for storage or selling. I’ve got a better use for these things right now.” Warren explained.

“Why here, though? We could all have met at the base, for that matter.”

Warren’s almost-wicked grin spanned across his face. He said, “Mary, my friend, this is our base. Or will be soon. I got my buddy to agree to using his place for all things relating to the League. It’ll knock out half of the projects on my to-do list, including providing us with running water.”

Kyra said, “No complaints from me.” She still remembered staying at the old base, and having no access to a shower or toilet down there.

“I just have to move some things including the computer, and we’ll be all set.”

“Which reminds me,” said Tatiana. “Kyra, regarding your base access. I do believe you were only given temporary access at the time, weren’t you?”

The turrets budged and rang. They were activating.

“Tatiana,” said Mary in a warning tone of voice.

But, Tatiana went on, “It’s been over a week now, and we’ve saved you a number of times already. On the other hand, you have proven to me that you do have some worth as a hero that has yet to be explored.”

“Tatiana, Warren, what are you two doing?”

“Quiet, Mary. Please.”

“It’s OK, Mary,” said Kyra. She was uncertain what was coming, but she felt her body tremble with fear. Those turrets did not help. She stepped forward. “What’s going to happen to me now?”

“Happen to you? Silly woman, welcome into our League.”

The men cheered “Viva la Dallevan!” and the turrets transformed into dancing robots as the music picked up.

Mary planted a palm over her eyes, and moaned. Five years after it had first been said during a group meeting, that phrase was still just as wrong, and yet still accepted. Plus, she did not like feeling duped, even if the result was Kyra’s official induction into the League.

Meanwhile, Kyra was overwhelmed by everything she was seeing and hearing. Ohm Wire, a villain by consequence but still a villain, was being accepted with open arms into a group of heroes. She didn’t know what to make of that, or what to say to everyone.

Warren walked up to her and said, “I’m working on something that you can use on the field when you’re ready to do some heroics. I still have a couple hundred projects or so, but I’ll try to get it ready for you very soon.”

“It isn’t anything obscene or dangerous, is it?”

“Not at all. I just thought it would be nice if you could use a communication device that won’t short out or worse when you start generating electric fields. I’ll keep you posted when I’ve had more time with it.”

“Thanks for that.”

Next, it was Jeff who talked to her. He said, “I look forward to working with you.”

“You too,” stated Kyra.

“You don’t mind being a hero now, right? I know it seems like we’re throwing this on you.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. This seems more exciting than anything else I’ve had thrown on me. Though, truth be told, I sort of miss my mom trying to get me to perform at some major dance recital. Maybe someday, when things are back to . . . relatively normal, I’ll perform in public just once for her.”

“Let’s make it happen then. To the future, young lady.”

Mary asked Tatiana, “Shouldn’t it be ‘el Dallevan?’”

Tatiana, however, just smiled back at her and walked off.

It was Wyatt who said, “Relax. Don’t worry about the small stuff, and enjoy the evening. We’re a family again, and things are looking up.”

***

Plans moved forward, and now, so did he.

Bates, who had taken on this form in public one last time, meandered through the estate now that it was empty except for the magically preserved men in the cellar. This place carried memories, both happy and sad. It held secrets, some darker than others. It was meant to be a gift to honor the master of the Circle. A place for him to use however he pleased.

However, it had served its use, and its time was up, for he was the demonic master, and he willed it.

In an instant, light and flame consumed the estate and sent shockwaves and tremors several hundred feet into the ground. Bates laughed as the devastation took his human form with it. The body would have recognized pain, as the entrapped soul certainly did in its final moments in this plane of reality; but he did not while his true form remained. There was no doubt in the arch-demon’s mind that the earth recognized pain as well.

The estate was no more. Now, there was only a crater blown out of the island, and within it burnt wood, flame, and flesh seared until only black and ash remained.

Smoke rose into the air, but the arch-demon’s laughter may have beaten it to the dark sky.

-------------
Chapter 25
-------------

The underground base provided by the B-P-S was in shambles, to be optimistic. Mortar Mage had checked the news as the others had done after they got home from the party, because tremors like what they’d felt were not frequent in the east coast. Not even with the underground lairs, or the metahumans and technology tunneling beneath the city on the regular, some things like earthquakes were just infrequent.

When he’d seen the crater where the estate should have been, he knew there was no time to waste. Mortar had made plans to survey the old base and salvage what he could. He moved quickly that same night. Soil and twisted scraps of metal continued to cry through the limited space while he examined the former base with a flashlight. The mage did not have long down here. Worst of all, he had to be careful. Mortar hated being careful like cats hated taking showers. This feat was a great waterfall in his eyes.

The remaining weapons and other defenses had been smashed beyond repair. The medical examination room was as buried as half of the corridors and most of the meeting room.

Mortar slipped through portal after portal to get to the other side of barricades once he knew for certain there was a place to appear. It was how he had gotten into the base, for that matter, but not without dropping a few short mounds of dirt on the ground outside the mansion. If anyone in the League liked the idea of taking soil from their old home into their new one, then they were in luck, though Mortar was certain no one told him of such habits.

If his breathable air ran low before time was up for being down here, then Mortar knew to open a portal to somewhere that had plenty of good air. Masks and filters be damned; he didn't have time to mess with all of that.

After some searching and probing about the disheveled base, he found the room he was looking for. Just like so much of the underground base, half of the room was submerged in dirt and rock. Some of the equipment and machinery had been smashed or buried. Luckily, the one thing he needed most was still intact. Mortar used his magic to shield himself from the falling debris, and to undo some screws. The base rumbled, and he knew that this trip had to count. Mortar had to grab what he needed and go.

The rumbling only got worse while Mortar worked. He was halfway done with his recovery effort when the ceiling decided it was a good time to come down. It cracked and it roared.

He was out of time.

***

Princess Undercut and the boys had intercepted a police broadcast late in the morning. The Steel Canyon branch of the Paragon Mutual Bank was under attack. It wasn’t being robbed, nor even hostages being held for ransom, but it was being assaulted.

War Lagoon beat the others there by a fraction of a second, and wasted no time using his power to cloud the lights from outside the bank’s doors.

Psi Wizard used his mind to scry for whomever was inside the bank. He found two men, both using psi blockers, and neither one of them angry nor nervous as far as he could tell.

“Something’s not right,” Psi Wizard said to the others.

“Then we’ll make it right,” said Princess Undercut, who reached for the door.

“No, wait!”

The glass doors and adjacent windows crashed open, and a villain charged into her like a football player blocking someone from the opposing team. It was Bullman, a level eight with a hard head, a harder helmet, and a pair of minotaur-themed pauldrons on his shoulders that went with his brown and gold look.

Bullman rammed Princess Undercut into the barricade of police cars. He remembered the last time he had fought these heroes, and didn’t care about this one’s invulnerability. He could still find a way to hurt anyone if he tried.

Meanwhile, War Lagoon was too busy trying to hold whomever it was that remained inside the darkened bank. He could feel the other person pushing through the shadows, cutting into them somehow.

The men heard the villain’s laugh then, and knew who it was.

“Spliceler,” said Psi Wizard. This was a villain known for brutally stabbing or slashing his victims with a pair of knives, moving too fast for anyone who wasn’t a speedster, and being able to incorporate any of a few elements into his attacks. He was supposed to be locked up in California, waiting an eternity for a death sentence to be carried out.

“I can’t hold him for much longer,” said War Lagoon.

Psi Wizard was caught in the middle, saving his wife or his friend, unable to use his psych powers against either villain.

***

Kyra huddled into a corner of the main hallway of the school with her hands over her ears. Lights flickered around her as she held up her quasi-invisibility, but nothing she did had any effect on the chanting whispers she was hearing. What was happening? She didn’t know where it came from, but it felt like the chanting noises ebbed away at her being like warm, running water on a block of ice.

She screamed out. The few people present looked around, but saw no one. Kyra thrashed against the lockers a couple times before stumbling back toward the gym. The laugh she’d heard before came again. Against the chanting, it relieved her. Kyra still knew it to be evil, but it relieved her to hear it instead of those whispers.

Then Kyra laughed to herself. She could see Mary now, supervising the kids during their PE period. The laughter continued while the claws withdrew from Kyra’s bracelets, and a tear rolled down her cheek. There was only one way to make this better.

Only one way that this could end.

Maryann glanced over when her class, and the students in other classes, reacted suddenly to a silhouette surrounded by an electrical storm. It was hard to make out the silhouette’s shape, but Mary ordered everyone to get back.

***

“When that Vambraceman Captain said you three would be coming,” said Bullman, who had Princess Undercut pinned to a now-wrecked police car, “I have to say I was skeptical. Keep you busy, he said. But, I have a better idea. I’m going to make you scream in agony about a thousand different ways before I’m done with you.”

“Distract us from what?” asked Princess Undercut.

“He didn’t say. Now, be a good girl and scream for me.” Bullman pushed his body weight into her, and she winced. The big man was too heavy for her to push.

One officer took a shot at Bullman’s ceramic helmet, barely scraping the side of it, but the lieutenant on the scene pressed down on the officer’s weapon and berated him for getting involved. He even reminded the officer that the members of the Dallevan League were wanted for questioning.

Another officer, one who wasn’t wearing psi blockers—he must have been a rookie or else forgetful, Psi Wizard figured—took another shot at the helmet, and hit the same spot.

“Hold your fire, men!” ordered the lieutenant. “The next officer who disobeys my order will hand in his gun and badge this instant.”

Bullman chuckled. Puny bullets did not affect him or the woman he was about to torture in broad daylight, and in front of the city now that the news cameras were rolling.

A split second later, Psi Wizard rammed the business end of a specially designed police baton into the same spot of the ceramic helmet. The baton shattered the reinforced plating and hit against the villain’s skin. The baton shocked Bullman with as much juice as it could dish out, which caused it to burn out after a short time. Bullman turned and smacked Psi Wizard aside.

However, this allowed Princess Undercut to slip out of Bullman’s grasp, and she ran for the bank. She let her training and instincts take over, with a combination she had used several times while blindfolded, and blocked the first attack that was meant for War Lagoon with one hand while she punched Spliceler in the face with the other. She followed it up with a kick, which knocked the villain back into the shadows.

“Think you can hold him a minute?” Princess Undercut asked War Lagoon.

“I’ll try. Make it fast, whatever you’re going to do,” he replied. Holding someone like this took a lot of energy.

She ran back to the perimeter of cop cars, and stood on top of one hood. Princess Undercut said to the Lieutenant, “Hey, hand me one of your suppressor cuffs?”

“You’re wanted for questioning,” the lieutenant said.

“So, what, you’re going to let the villains win?”

“As far as I know, you’re suspected of being villains yourselves.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter what you’ve been told. We have a pair of known villains here who need to be brought down. I’m asking you nicely because I have no desire to steal from you. So toss me one of those damn cuffs already.”

Several yards away, Bullman approached Psi Wizard, who had yet to get back up after being knocked to the ground by the big guy. Bullman taunted him, “You’re a weak little man. Stupid too. Did you think a little shock was going to stop me?”

Psi Wizard said, “Your surprise was a bonus, and it got Princess Undercut free.” The shock had done more than that, but he was holding back for the right moment.

“It got you killed now, little man. What do you say to that?” Bullman picked up Psi Wizard with one hand.

“I’ll keep my buzzwords to myself.” His psychic powers assaulted Bullman’s mental state instantly now that the psi blockers were fried. Bullman fell to his knees. “But, everyone else you hurt has something to say.” With one hand, he pushed Bullman back by the forehead.

The gaping hole on the side of Bullman’s ceramic helmet was the perfect spot after all. The baton had destroyed the device above the man’s ear, and now every repressed emotion or memory Bullman had from the times he’d hurt and killed people was coming back with a terrible vengeance. There was a good chance that this would leave the villain in a catatonic state for days, all the while writhing over the things he'd done, but at least the villain still drew breath.

When he turned, Psi Wizard saw Spliceler break free of the shadows again, which now dissipated. From the looks of things, that left Princess Undercut to deal with him.

She proceeded to block every attack she could, but Princess Undercut was not fast enough to keep every swipe of the blade from touching. Her costume tore in a few places as a result, but luckily her skin resisted being cut.

Spliceler said, “Every invuln has an element, girl, and I know yours. I know I can cut you with ease.” He slid a knife through two fingers, drawing ice, and thrust toward her with as much strength and speed as he could manage. The blade penetrated flesh.

Everyone gasped when it happened.

Everyone, that was, but War Lagoon. The knife had plunged into a dark circle right over Princess Undercut’s chest, and it was now stuck inside the back of Spliceler’s leg.

“I’m not out of power, you know,” said War Lagoon.

Princess Undercut looked at him with a twitching eye, and asked, “Cut things close much?”

“Let’s detain these creeps, and get going.”

“Right.” She wrestled with Spliceler, who was screaming in pain, and applied the power suppressor cuffs on his arms.

The doctors on the scene were already checking on Bullman, confirming his livelihood and limited capacity to do anything with it, when another ran to the second villain to tend to his leg wound. The police wanted to cheer for the heroes, but they were holding back the civilians and journalists.

A police bulletin broadcast from their vehicles:

“Calling all units, there has been a fight and kidnapping at Steel Canyon Intermediate School. The kidnap victim has been described as . . .”

-------------
Chapter 26
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Mary and Kyra had both gone missing. Mortar Mage was the first to arrive at the school, dirtied and bleeding from a couple minor injuries, but neither he nor the others learned much from the students, teachers, or talking guinea pig.

“Nice fellow, that guinea pig,” said Mortar as the heroes left.

Night was falling, and the four heroes sat in the mansion, recovering from all that had happened that day.

Mortar Mage was tinkering with an array of machine parts on the floor that had come from the old base. He managed to bring the vital pieces of the computer and power supply, both of which he planned to upgrade anyhow. Still, he had a lot of work to do to get it all working like it used to, if not better.

Princess Undercut sat at the bar shivering and crying, with a glass of cider in front of her. She wanted so much for it to be alcohol right now; she had never been so scared, not just for her own life but for another at the same time.

“What are we doing?” she asked.

“I know,” said War Lagoon, “we’ll look for Mary and Kyra as soon as we’re able.”

“That’s not what I mean! Why do we keep risking ourselves like this? We’re not the same heroes we were five years ago. We used to set the traps and leave lasting marks on people everywhere we went. Now we just fall into someone else’s bullshit. Now we lose people left and right. Today, I finally realized how weak I really am . . . how weak we all are. The next mission could be the last for any of us.”

Psi Wizard reached for her drink. “I think you had enough, my love.”

“It’s not alcoholic. I can’t even have the stuff now. If the next mission kills me,” she felt for her belly, “kills us, then never again.”

“Tatiana . . .”

“I didn’t want to tell you like this. I should have said something last night when we were all here having a good time. It’s finally settling in, and it scares the shit out of me. What kind of mother am I, or will I be, if we keep doing this? What will happen if any one of us gets killed?”

Psi Wizard pulled her into his full embrace. He might have wept a little. “Then let’s save the girls,” he said.

“How, though?”

“She has a point,” said War Lagoon. “We don’t even know where to look.”

“Not only that, though. The attack on the bank was meant solely for us as though the few of us had been expected out of all of the heroes in Paragon. Bullman said some Vambraceman creep put him up to it. A captain. Probably the same one we’ve been dealing with for the few days.”

“Then we’ll start with every Vambraceman facility on the planet.”

Mortar Mage said, “I don’t think so, my friend. The captain, Bates, isn’t who he seems. I doubt we’ll find Mary or Kyra anywhere near the Vambracemen bases."

Bates? Come to think of it, War Lagoon was sure he had heard that name before, and not during his own military days. He wasn't sure now if it was worth digging through his memory for where he heard it.

Princess Undercut said, “I think you’re both missing the point. If we do this, then we’re going to need help. We’re going to need a plan.”

A man in a suit entered the massive room, standing on top of a flight of stairs. He had picked the lock, sneaked in, and listened to his old friends. He said, “What you need . . . is me.

Everyone looked up at the man who had long been missing until now. It was a man they had not seen for years.

Walter smiled down at them and said, “Long time, no see.”

***

Mary rubbed her aching head as she sat up. The sound of metal scraping against stone accompanied her while she got up, and she realized that she was chained by the arms with enough slack to move around the dark room. Her mind slowly registered how much her surroundings had changed.

Beyond the few, small windows, Maryann saw a sky in which day and night supplemented one another like clouds, and the formations of light and dark shifted as much as clouds did on a windy day, though there was no other sign of wind as far as she could tell. No trees, no pounding of air against the walls outside.

She turned to see what she was chained to, finding a pair of columns with plenty of space between them, and then she saw Kyra in a strange robe — one designated for a special kind of ritual. Kyra’s head tilted. Her eyes were as white as they had been in the last week, but now the veins around them glowed white as well.

Please no. Phoebe whispered inside Mary’s head.

Mary yanked at the chains, and tried to break them. But, no avail.

“That’s not going to work,” boomed a voice. A man stepped into the dim lightning of the vast chamber. It was that Vambraceman captain from before. No, that had been an illusion, which was long gone now before the true form hit Mary’s eyes, revealing a winged demon who stood eight feet tall. “I have waited long for this day. I see my minions have taken the liberty to change your attire already.”

Mary looked down. How had she not noticed the corset and garter belt with stockings, and the lack of any other clothes? Her wings were out too.

“What have you done to Kyra?” she asked.

“I have claimed her as my own. She was supposed to be host to the succubus queen, but something went wrong. Now, she serves me utterly, as you will. The difference is that you will have a choice. My choice, but a choice regardless.”

“Who are you?”

“I am the demonic master your mage friends feared and worked for. I am the arch-demon who orchestrated everything as far back as the queen being born and eventually captured. I tracked every descendant of the man responsible for sealing her away, and stoked her need for vengeance, until one such descendant could stand here this evening.” He smelled Kyra’s hair. “Oh, the joys of fear, hatred, revenge, and all-around scheming. You humans never truly know what you’re a part of until it’s as good as over.”

“She descended from the man who captured me? The succubus within me?”

“And now she is the perfect instrument of making you cooperate. Either you will bear my new world, or you will watch as she does and know that, every moment, whatever’s left of her soul will be in torment while her body commits to growing it inside her womb. Isn’t that right, my pet?”

Kyra sank to her knees, and reached for her master’s tool beneath the cloth he wore. The master laughed.

“Not now, my dear. Not yet.” He spoke to her so gently, but his power was undeniable.

“Don’t you dare touch her,” Mary demanded. “Kyra, snap out of it. We have to get out of he—“

She was interrupted when Kyra, moving at blinding speeds, smacked Mary across the jaw.

Mary said, “Why? Why do you do this? What do you even hope to accomplish?”

The arch-demon said, “I always wanted to see a world ruled by demons. In the many millennia that mankind existed, demons never got the chance. How could we with the others present? We were made from humans, most of us anyway. You’ve heard of the scars from drawing too much mystical energy at once? The first demons were born in attempt to prevent them, much unlike you succubi. You were born as an excuse for infidelity, created by men and taken in by us true demons. You were molded into the perfect soulless, carnal fiends to serve our whims, and those of men too foolish to see beyond their own release.

“You want to know what my plan is? The time has finally come, after centuries of your demonic essence in captivity. That is why I decided to break her free, and give her a new body, because she could no longer hinder my plans with her trail of pleasure and death that she once rained over humanity. It was amusing during her time, but not what I needed.

“I have everything I need now to make this happen. All you need to do is take my seed, and pleasure me. The surface world will change while you carry my child. Oh, the child will be another demon, but so will everyone else out there. All of Paragon City will change first, then the world while the demons out there feed and grow in numbers. And, best of all, not even my worst enemies can stop me from making it happen.”

“Then what?” asked Mary. “Aren’t you forgetting something? If the whole world changes into a realm filled with demons, then what will they feed on? You know what happens if I don’t feed. What a terrible plan.”

The master cupped her chin with his fingers. He replied simply, “Silly girl. A queen among puppets is still nothing more than a marionette.”

***

“No,” said Princess Undercut. “No, you’re not coming back. You can’t walk in here and expect us to just follow you after everything that happened.”

“Hello, Tatiana,” said Walter. “Congratulations on your pregnancy.”

“You think being nice and changing the subject is going to change anything?”

“Tatiana, please,” said Psi Wizard. “Let’s hear what he has to say first.”

Princess Undercut was furious at Walter for being gone so much of the time that they needed him. They thought he was returning sooner, but he did not. So much happened because he wasn’t there.

Walter adjusted his suit jacket, and descended the stairs. He said, “I have more to apologize for than is humanly possible. I get that. I had hoped to be able to manage this group from other countries while I was in service of diplomats, often filling in for ones who were assassinated. However, my sudden departure, and the death of our beloved friend, left a rift I could not mend or control.

“I did get better at pulling strings from long distances, or making things happen, but it was clearly not enough. I meant for one of our own, Blaze, to take in this new girl, Kyra, but he died at the hands of a mafia family before that could happen. I know the mark of the Circle when I see it from the other side of the planet, and she needed our help. I wish we had gotten to her sooner. I’m positive that things would be different now.

“There is another mastermind in play, you see. This Bates character, if I’m right. No, I’m not looking for an excuse for my failures, but I wish to exact the cause for our troubles that we face now. I’ve come home because we need one another. You can be angry at me all you want, but we must move forward and correct every mistake that we can, being the best group of superheroes I’ve ever had the honor to work with.”

War Lagoon said, “What’s so special about Kyra? She’s a good girl, don’t get me wrong, but why did it have to be her?”

“She is the last known descendant of a demon hunter from the early 19th century. Captain Patriot was the first official hero over a century later, as you all know, but this man and his family worked in the shadows doing the grim work while humanity convinced itself that its problems were nothing more than a romanticized dream. He wasn’t the first to do so, but his legacy must still be protected.”

“Kyra disappeared with Mary.”

“Mary?”

“David. David became a succubus named Maryann.”

“Oh. Then we have two people we need to save, don’t we? Possibly the whole world if my information is anywhere near accurate. And we will need to do so tonight.” His walking cane stamped the ground.

Princess Undercut said, “How are we supposed to do that, Walter?”

“Piece everything together that we know. Who are we fighting against?”

“The Circle. You said so yourself.”

“As would Warren, I’m sure. Isn’t that right, Mortar Mage?”

Mortar said, “An arch-demon, to be precise.”

“Where does our tale begin? Anyone? Surely, either Kyra or Dav— sorry, I mean Mary would have told one of you by now.”

“Peregrine Beach?” said War Lagoon. That was where everyone had reunited, and took down the Freakshow Gang in the sewer. “Or do you mean before we met that girl? Then Nerva. This tale began in those islands when she discovered the Circle was after her.”

“I’ll bet my best suit that our tale will lead us back there as well. Mortar, how good is your tracking ability these days?”

“Magically? All I need is something to tie my spell to what I’m looking for. If it’s in Nerva, then all we have to do is get over there, and I’ll find what we’re looking for in seconds.” It would take longer, otherwise.

“Good, then we will need something belonging to one or both of the girls. Princess Undercut, since you have the teleport ability, and probably know of something Mortar Mage can use, then I’ll leave that up to you.”

She nodded.

Walter said, “Psi and War, we’re going to need some help in this fight. Preferably someone who can take a hit.”

“Why not me?” asked Princess Undercut. “I’m not letting you save the girls without me.”

“Nobody’s implying it. You do understand the risks, of course. No, I need someone to run in and trip the Circle’s defenses if they have any nasty surprises waiting for us. Someone who can wreck stuff, as a certain friend of ours liked to say. If one of you knows someone who’d be willing to do that, then I will leave that up to you.”

“Wreck stuff, save the day,” Princess Undercut said.

“For the friends and allies we’ve lost. For the good of the city, and the survival of the world as we know it. Let’s get to work.”

***

The circular section in the middle of the floor opened, with Kyra, Mary, and their master standing to one side. A red crystal larger than the three of them rose through the opening. The ground surrounding the crystal closed, leaving a pool of water that would come up above Mary’s or Kyra’s waist if either one of them stood in it.

The arch-demon raised his hands, and spoke to the other demons and spirits and mages beyond the room, “Let us begin the ritual.”

Mary looked upon Kyra one more time, and clasped their hands together.

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Chapter 27
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Like shattered starlight, Princess Undercut appeared next to the dock in Nerva, where Walter and Mortar Mage waited. She looked around for Psi Wizard, who appeared moments later on a boat.

He let the engine idle as he approached so that it wouldn’t make too much noise.

Princess Undercut handed Mortar a bag with a pillow in it. She said, “Will this work?”

“A pillow?” he asked.

“They both slept on it a few times.” Among other things.

“Let’s find out. Give me a moment to track them.” Mortar laid the bag on the ground before him, and sat with it.

Tracking from somewhere else was possible, but the further away they were, the longer the process. Besides, they needed a rendezvous point and time for help to come, if any were to do so, and Walter knew that the others would become restless if they spent too much time doing nothing.

“Why can’t we just use the armlets again?” asked Psi Wizard.

Princess Undercut said, “Kyra and Mary left theirs at the house. I’m not sure why they did that. Maybe they thought the armlets weren’t necessary right now with the old base being gone. Maybe they were just tired of wearing them so much. Whatever the reason, they don’t have them.”

Mortar stood up, “Well, this was certainly effective. I’m done tracking them. You’re not going to like this, though.”

“Please tell me they’re alright.”

“Oh, I can’t be too sure, but the trail ends, like a drawing that runs off the page, and these islands are the paper. We’ll be dealing with an arcane portal into another realm.”

“You can at least locate the portal, right?”

“Done and done. Shall we wait for War, or is he meeting us there?”

“He knows to follow the signal from our armlets,” said Walter. “Let’s go. Hopefully, he brought the hat on the stick. It looks like Psi Wizard couldn’t find anyone to help us tonight. That’s fine, that’s fine.”

Everyone rode the boat through a portal of Mortar’s making to reduce the distance to their destination. The waves were heavy, and the rocks were numerous, so Mortar dropped a gadget to stabilize and anchor the boat. A field of green light encompassed the craft and caused it to stopped moving, no matter how much the water smashed against the barrier that now fixed to the floor beneath the water.

The rest of the trip was quiet once they were all on foot again. No one guarded the Circle’s portal except for a deranged homeless man, but Walter bribed him with a lotto scratcher and a coupon for a fruity waffle plate at participating UHOW restaurants.

The heroes did not wait long before War Lagoon arrived and touched down on the ground. He nodded with his signature straight face only seconds before Trash Knuckle crash landed a short distance away. Walter waved a hand in front of his nose.

“Well, now,” said Trash Knuckle, “this is some party you’re having.”

“Party’s inside, big guy,” said War Lagoon.

“Oh? So what happened? Did some random mystic steal your mommies’ lunch money for the month? Or is this some petty land dispute between heroes and villains?”

“The Circle has been causing us some trouble. We’re here to sa—“

“The Circle, specifically! How about that? They’re one of my favorite groups in the whole wide world when it comes to thrashing skulls. Are you sure you want this to be our little favor?”

“Look, are you going to help, or not?”

“Of course I am. Looks like this will be the most fun bit of payback since I taught my last roommate and his buddies not to gamble with our pizza money. Just step back, and I’ll have this place cleared of every stinking Circle mage in no time.”

Trash Knuckle charged into the portal laughing.

Half of the group had been pressing their noses closed. Princess Undercut glared at War Lagoon and asked, “Do I even want to know what that was about?”

“I saved his life during The Event,” replied War.

“Well, now what? Do we wait for him to fight the whole battle for us, or do we go in?”

Walter examined his pocket watch, and stuffed it back into his pocket with a finger in the air. Mortar Mage sprayed some air freshener around the portal to do away with Trash Knuckle’s lingering stench.

“Maybe we should go in when the smell clears?” suggested Psi Wizard.

“That will take too long, I think,” said Walter. “Judging by the types of traps the Circle likes to use, and how fast our helping hand likes to move or pick fights with other, we should be able to go in right about . . . now.” He sank into the portal with only a smile on his face that had been aimed at the others.

The rest of the League followed.

***

The heroes stood on an island floating in the air. It was one of many, some bigger than others, and streams of water and lava could be seen flowing sideways in different places. All of this against the blended sky of night and day, Psi Wizard rubbed his face with one hand.

“It’s like a mindscape,” he said. “I never did like those.”

The villain Trash Knuckle flew past in the distance. He was duking it out with a trio of demons who weren’t even as tall as his legs. His laughter carried as far as the island where the heroes stood. Seconds after he disappeared from view, Trash Knuckle cart-wheeled through the air in the other direction.

“Think he left enough for us?” asked Princess Undercut.

Mortar Mage responded, “That’s . . . not going to be a problem.”

They were surrounded already by hordes of lesser demons of various shapes and sizes, led by a giant vulture.

“Ah, this is lovely,” Mortar remarked. “This is a down pillow, right?”

Princess Undercut said, “Yes. Why?”

“Only this!” he threw the pillow at the vulture’s beak after making it glow. The fabric casing exploded, and feathers burst from within. Mortar manipulated them to turn and jab the flying demon with the force of steel knives, which flew off after a screech. “That’s better.”

“Great, now how are we going to find the girls?”

“We can always check the floating castle over there.”

“Really? A floating castle? Fine, let’s kick some ass, and get Mary and Kyra home in time for breakfast.”

She teleported repeatedly across the demons, punching and kicking them along the way. Mortar and War flew at the others in opposite directions. Walter pulled out his guns, and took potshots at any demon within range.

Psi Wizard called out, “Be careful! The rules of gravity and distance aren’t going to be the same here as the mortal realm.”

Damn, now he had no way to get off of this island or do anything useful unless some enemy mages came along. Psi Wizard hated when that happened. He picked up a rock and threw it toward one of the smaller demons flying about.

As luck would have it, space and gravity were affected in that direction, which led to another island, and the rock pierced the demon’s head before it fell to the ground.

The psychic squinted toward that island. There were some minds over there. Enemy mages who were entering this realm.

“Will you be good on your own, Walter?” asked Psi Wizard.

“I’ve got my fencing sword on me, and enough fight to keep at this for a couple hours or more if I must,” Walter said. “Where are you going?”

“Don’t know yet. Wish me luck.”

He picked up another rock, and got a running start toward the edge of the island. With one hand, he threw the rock without letting go. Psi Wizard’s feet took off from the edge.

***

The doors burst open, but the arch-demon was hardly surprised by it. Faint sounds of combat entered the room, and so did Trash Knuckle.

Trash Knuckle said, “Those are some nice doors you got there. Maybe I should rip them apart and use them to beat you into a pulp. Or maybe I should use your sorry ass to knock them off their hinges.”

The red crystal glowed a brighter red. The arch-demon chuckled.

“All of this violence,” said the demonic master. “Why don’t you get lost?”

A forceful wind blew and threw Trash Knuckle back out the doors, which closed. The villain could be heard shouting a number of profanities as he drifted further away.

“Now hear this,” the demon formerly known as Bates said to everyone outside the castle, which was more solid structure than room space. “Your efforts only continue to serve me. The longer you fight, the more you fuel my plans. If only you knew. So keep fighting to your hearts’ content.”

He laughed, and then he turned to Mary with an arm extended.

“Come,” he said to her in a quieter voice. “The water awaits you, as do I.”

Mary trembled, her heart pounding like a hard-hitting speedster with super strength. She walked forward, and descended foot by foot into the water until she stood before her new master. His member was now standing to meet her.

The crystal glowed again. This time, it rang like someone rubbing their finger over the top of a wine glass. Its light radiated through the room.

***

Psi Wizard climbed the last few feet in order to get on top of the new island. The mages saw him, but there was nothing they could do. He exerted control over their minds, a feat not meant to be possible in an actual mindscape, not like this. And yet, he felt so much power over these mages.

The question, however, was what to do with them. The mages were a nuisance and notably evil, but they were still people. So killing them was not an option.

He reached into their minds, deep into their emotional states, and sought after their need to sleep. This many minds was going to take time, time that Psi Wizard might not have had, no matter which way he went about it.

As if too impatient to wait for a cue, the vulture demon stomped on the ground nearby. It was angry, and it swiped its wings, which knocked a number of mages off of the island. Psi Wizard winced when the third swipe came straight for him.

***

Smaller demons were melding together into larger ones to try and beat Princess Undercut. She continued to bombard them with a combination of teleportation and various strikes from her assortment of martial arts, but they were getting tougher and faster.

The thought occurred to her that she could try sticking around in the unknown between teleportation jumps, but the thought occurred too late. One of the demons anticipated where Princess Undercut was going to appear, and it smacked her onto the ground. It didn’t hurt, much, but the sheer force of the impact caught her off guard.

She was surrounded now by three larger demons, and they looked ready to gang up on her. This was when she saw Psi Wizard as he got knocked off of an island. The demons’ attacks came down, and her husband continued to fall into the abyss below.

***

Mortar Mage finally found what he was looking for. For years, it had been theorized by a few writers and fans of his journal that the Circle’s spirits were somehow unnatural. Really unnatural. That they came from somewhere grotesque and dangerous.

He knocked two of the evil spirits down, and two more appeared. One of the islands contained a twisted shrine, and the Circle’s spirits were coming from there.

Each pillar of stone and poisonous vine had something incorporeal attached to it. An innocent soul. This twisted shrine was not only reconstructing the evil ones who were defeated, but it was turning the spirits of the dead into their numbers.

Destroying the shrine was the obvious course of action, but Mortar was met with the only problem standing between him and doing the entire Paragon area a service. The spirits knew he was there, and they were coming at him in the hundreds. Spell after spell, attack after attack, he tried to push back their numbers, but they were far too many to handle at once without drawing in more power than his body could handle.

War Lagoon flew in, throwing some of his own attacks, but it still wasn’t enough for the oncoming spirits.

They stood in the middle of the island, and now they were firing off spells and shadow-based attacks in every direction. The spirits were joined by a number of demons. It was looking bad, like one of the worse things either hero could ask for.

“Warren,” and War Lagoon.

“Yeah,” Mortar replied, standing back-to-back with his ally and friend.

“It looks like there’s only one thing we can do.”

“It’ll be dangerous.”

“It’ll be something.”

War Lagoon and Mortar Mage drew in as much darkness and arcane energy as they could gather. Together, they were more potent than the force that leveled the Vambracemen base, and more brilliant than a solar eclipse.

***

Atop the castle-that-wasn’t was a pylon. All of the fear, all of the anger, and all of the violence, poured into the red crystal in the single room below. The air around the pylon roared, and it glowed.

Then, in a single instant that would last a lifetime, a red beam shot up from the pylon.

Day turned to red dusk, and the night turned to pitch black. Amidst the entire realm was the sound of Mary’s tears, and the demonic realm stood still in shock.

Shock that it impacted the surface world.

Forever.

Author's Note: I have decided, for this time, to combine chapters 28 and 29 into a single post due to the shortness of the former. This story is also nearly over. Thank you all for reading and getting this far. =)

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Chapter 28
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Regardless of the city’s lively nature at almost every hour, most stores had the sense to be closed well before three in the morning. Whether it was good sense or bad was open for debate.

Hexplosion, an emotionless supervillain from who was visiting from central Europe, had found himself a convenience mart that was open, and surprisingly well-stocked, at this hour. All he needed was a quick lunch, which Hex intended to pay for. He stole money and arcane reagents when they were rare, but stealing food was just wrong. He lacked in emotion, sure, but what of monster took food away from others?

Maybe he was still running on his own time zone. Who knew? But, he was hungry, and the last thing Hex needed was for some hero to barge into the store and—

“Drop that hotdog, villain!” Oh good, it was Techsplosion.

Hexplosion thought it odd that the “-plosion” heroes all had it in for him in the short time that Hex had been in town, but he didn’t feel one way or the other about it. That was the effect of one of his earliest hexes, which he had yet to reverse in the last few years. The need or desire never really arose.

“Now, you wait a stinking minute,” demanded a man with an accent that would make anyone laugh . . . if they could. Texplosion ran into the store. “What makes you think you can just barge in here, with my name, and take my villain on like this?”

“Your villain?” asked Tech. “I saw him first.”

“Oh, so you’re not going to defend against taking my name, are you?”

There was a roar outside. The voice of Rexplosion announced, “I’m a dinosaur!”

Totally disinterested in the escalating argument, Hex set down some money on the counter, behind which the man running the store was trying to duck for cover like some half-witted coward, and then Hex walked past the heroes.

Harsh words became a brawl in every sense, but Hex kept walking, totally uninterested in everyone else’s issues.

He did not get far before rockets and other explosions rocked the store behind Hex. "Take a vacation in the States," his therapist had said. It would do him and his lack of emotions some good, the therapist had told him.

Red gleams of light appeared and vanished through the sky, Hex noticed. He wondered where that could have been from.

***

A mother lifted herself out of bed. Her baby was crying again.

This time, the crying sounded different. It sounded more fierce. Either that, or the young woman was too tired and finally had enough. She did not sign up for this.

She picked up the first solid object she could find and carry in the darkness, and wandered toward her baby’s room. She bumped into the wall, and it only made her angrier. She never felt this ready to kill anyone before.

Then the crib came into view.

The unthinkable was now hardly a thought at all. The mother threw the object in her hands, and it hit the crib. Her baby’s tantrum stopped for one blessed second, and it picked up again. What was it going to take? The mother walked to the crib; the answer became more obvious with every step.

***

A fallen hero to some, a villain to more, had tracked down a man she believed to still be a villain, no matter his claims to the contrary.

After a full week of contemplation, all inhibitions left her. Tonight she was finally going to do what she’d set out to do. The fallen hero used this one moment of clarity and insatiable passion to kill the man after entering his apartment. There were no witnesses of the act. No one saw the woman, especially not at this hour.

When it was over, and her deeds finally sank in, she saw the sky outside. Lights like red hairs, matching those on her head and the crimson color of blood on her hands, flowed through the sky above Paragon City. They came and went without any pattern.

Unsure if she was behind this or not, the fallen hero sank to her knees, and watched.

No, she was not fallen, the former hero told herself. She was something different now. She was something new, something necessary, and her work was just beginning, even if she was caught in the awe of what was happening in the sky above.

***

“Not a generic hero,” he uttered for what must have been the hundredth time charging down the street, trying to break up the disturbance of mafia gangsters and thrice as many thugs who’d apparently never heard of belts.

Saelum Blaster could cleave and shape rock with the beams he shot from his fists. He spent the past few years saving lives left and right, including that horned lady the other day when a riot had threatened her life after saving one of the citizens present.

He was starting to think that Paragon was nothing more than a bunch of ingrates.

Maybe one thug paid him any mind before Saelum jumped into the fray once more with a fist ready for a go. A few more people took notice, but they told him to get lost. Since when was a granny armed with nothing but her walker one of these thugs? Finally, he snapped. Saelum Blaster hammered his fists into the road beneath them all. His power cut into the concrete and asphalt, and the ground shook. Everyone who had been fighting sank and collapsed, their feet or hands stuck in the rubble, which did not give way any more than it had.

Then something hit him. Saelum could not see what. In seconds, all he could see in a painful daze was the night sky, which looked just as dizzy as he felt, but it moved without him, as did everyone else who was still able.

He had to get up. He had to prove himself.

Not a generic hero. Not a generic, damn hero.

***

“...being urged to stay the fuck indoors.” said the reporter appearing on a dozen screens behind a shop window, not that anyone was listening. “This comes from an anonymous tip, because goodness knows we don’t get enough of those. Stay indoors, lock yourselves in, and let the night pass. Yeah right, I’m going to give my boss a piece of my mind.”

The reporter got up from her chair the same instant that the window was shattered by rioters fighting over who got to carry the screens.

Indeed, all across the city and its surrounding area, people fell to their rage and primal urges. Regardless of sex, race, or creed, no one was safe from the energy fueling everyone’s worst and nobody’s best.

The more that the Dallevan League fought in the other realm, the more humanity lost. The red columns fading in and out across the sky became more numerous and pronounced, though most people did not notice or care about them.

Everyone cared only about their problems.

Everyone cared only to end them, by any means.

On and on, and on, it went until the red beams burst from the seams and white light consumed everything. It was the night when humanity fell — Rancor Night.

.
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Chapter 29
-------------

Breath passed audibly, but Mary could not tell if it went in or out. Her senses came back to her like they had been fished out of the mud, and had yet to be washed before she regained them.

Everything radiated away from the silhouette of the enormous crystal in the middle of the room, but then the few objects went out as another wave flowed from the crystal as thick as Mary’s arms, and as slow as a leaf blowing in a light breeze. It passed the items from before, and they would glow and radiate and fade out once more.

Mary was both frightened and confused. Then she saw Ohm Wire and the demon formerly known as Bates; they stood still, affected the same way by the light.

The sounds of sniffling reached her ears. Mary revolved around the crystal’s shadowy outline, curious as to how she did not see anyone or anything beyond it, then she saw her.

It was Mary’s other half. Huddled and crying.

Mary approached her. The water she waded through made no sound as she walked, or rather pushed one leg forward after the other. Mary was so close. She reached out for her other half’s shoulder.

“Don’t,” the other whispered. “Don’t. And stop that, I hate being thought of as the other one. The evil one.” She turned on Mary. Her tears were a fiery red, but by no means thick like blood. “Especially when you’re the one breaking promises. Ugh! Why do I hate being evil so much? I’m supposed to be me. I only ever wanted to be free and full of endless bliss.”

“Breaking promises?” inquired Mary.

The bad half pointed to Kyra, whose eyes appeared so lifeless.

“I have not broken any promises,” Mary said, “I’m sacrificing myself to protect her from my fate. I’m doing this for her so she won’t have to suffer.”

“And you think that will be the end of it? You think she will be safe when the world is transformed into a hive of demons and unfortunate survivors? We should have fled. We should have done something to keep our master from winning. Two centuries, and he still commands my every breath, even as we are now.”

“Poor Kyra,” Mary’s yin went on, “thrown into this because of her heritage. And now she’ll perish in ways no one should ever experience. In ways I shouldn’t have been.” She fell to her knees in front of Kyra and examined her own hands. “What choice did I ever have? Born impossible, bred wrong. Whatever’s left of her, and you, will hate what comes next, and there’s nothing any of us can do.”

“There’s always a choice, Phoebe. You wanted to use her to break free yourself.”

“Then you interfered, being the little hero in an overwhelming storm. What would you have me do?! Trick someone into destroying my prison with me along with it? I—I can’t... There’s no way...”

Mary pinned her other half to the ground by the shoulders.

“Pull yourself together,” ordered Mary. “There’s still a choice. There has to be.”

“Doom, death of the soul, devastation and worse for so many...”

“Help me. We can fight the arch-demon together. We can still save everyone, but you have to try. You have to pull yourself together, if not for yourself then for Kyra. For the succubi who brought you into this world against all odds, and wanted more for you than a life of debauchery, but were taken away before they could raise you. For every man, woman, or child who could have been, or still could be. Help me!”

Memories of old, of both David and the old Mary—no, Phoebe—flooded her mind in a swirl, with an overwhelming number of emotions at their cores.

“I can’t,” said Phoebe.

Mary said, “You’re not allowed to say you can’t. Not until you’ve given it everything you got.”

“We are but one aspect of demonhood. The arch-demon is all. Our power couldn’t as it is. Maybe if we drained the sexual essence of everyone in the western world we might stand a chance at overpowering him, but now he’d throw us into oblivion like a used rag if we’re lucky. If we’re fortunate, there won’t be an eternity of being violated without pleasure accompanying us when we get there.”

“Phoebe, why did you take my ice powers away?”

“Your ice powers...” She stood and faced Kyra.

“Maybe our demon powers won’t work, and maybe my super strength won’t be enough, but what if I had my ice powers?”

“I took them away by accident. This half of me entered your body, and felt something hurting me as I melded with the body, so I stripped it away out of instinct. Oh, Mary, I’m such an idiot.”

“So, they’re gone for good. Then I suppose we have to make due with what I have left. Even if it’s not enough, and I die trying, I’ll sooner do that than let this asshole have the victory he desires. I could use Kyra’s help to, if she was able.”

Mary stopped when she realized that Phoebe was sobbing again.

“I know what to do now,” said Phoebe. “I wish I understood it sooner. The power of it. The power to do what I must. Yes, that’s how I’ll do it.”

“You’re losing me here.”

“Come here, quickly.” Mary did as Phoebe requested. Phoebe joined Mary’s and Kyra’s hands. After grabbing Mary’s with some force Phoebe said, “The greater good sucks, just so you know, but damn, it feels good doing something for it for once. Promise that you’ll remember me ‘til the end of time.” No, that was an order, her final decree.

When Mary opened her mouth to speak, Phoebe placed a finger over it and shook her head, all the while standing like someone dignified. She was the queen succubus, and Mary was her subject.

“For everything that went wrong, for all the good times we could have had, don’t think ill of me. Not even my innuendos.”

Phoebe raised the conjoined pair of hands up to her cheek, still damp from tears and soft besides, and she hummed with more serenity than Mary ever thought possible. The crystal silhouette gushed out more light, rather than in short waves. It filled the room that everyone stood within.

Her hums broke as if into a tune, which slowed further and further, and faded away the longer it went. Then the light filled Mary and Kyra.

And time returned to normal within the nether realm.

***

The oversized demons pounded away at Princess Undercut, but she parried in a terrible rush. Between the demons and the panic, she knew that staying here was not a good idea, so she ran as soon as there was an opening.

Princess Undercut skipped past the three demons, and dove for her husband, hoping to catch him in the air. He was moving too fast for her to try grabbing with teleportation, because there was no telling which direction anyone or anything fell next, because he was moving fast and Mortar once mentioned that stopping suddenly would kill anyone with a snap of the neck or worse, because she was too frightened to think of anything better than dart forward after Psi Wizard.

Psi saw her, his vision limited from the speed of his fall, and he felt her coming for him. He reached out. He trusted in Princess Undercut to save him.

After a few harrowing moments and as many close calls, one interrupted by a sharp rock that swung between them and nearly took Psi’s arm with it, Princess Undercut caught him by the hand. They were joined in a full-body embrace in seconds, and she teleported them into safety. They drifted somewhere dark for a moment, and then shifted suddenly onto one of the plateaus above where they started.

They heaved together for a time before Psi looked up.

“Look out!” he shouted.

There was a mage with an axe ready to take a swing at Princess Undercut, but Psi pulled her forward and used the leverage to kick the mage in the chest. In his anger for the attempted attack, Psi reached deep into the Mage’s mind, well beyond the emotions or frontal, basic thoughts, and he found what made the mage tick.

Psi clenched the core of the mage’s mind and yanked at it. This cause the mage to twitch and jerk violently before falling to the ground as nothing more than a vegetable.

He turned back to his wife, who huffed as hard as ever.

“I could have saved myself,” she said.

Her husband shook his head and said, “I don’t care if a meteor fell and you alone could take it. Nobody tries to harm my wife, or our child, and gets away with it.”

They kissed warmly, but then the island shook, and their already short moment of romance was made brief. The vulture-like demon screeched and prepared to make another swing at the couple.

Suddenly, a burly man descended and hammered his fists into the back of the demon’s neck. Trash Knuckle and the vulture facing one another whole entire time as they fell to the ground. The villain gave the giant vulture a left and a right before the demon could recover, and then he shoved the creature off the edge where it fell up and crashed against the jagged underside of another island.

The plateau turned away then. Hardly anyone who was present got to see the monster drift off into oblivion, never to be seen again after that.

“Yeah,” said Trash Knuckle, “any other pipsqueak out there want to pay for the big guy getting thrown out the door? Come on, I totally have all night!”

And, to boot, he was tired of falling every direction all over this forsaken place. He could have sworn that he saw the outside world a couple of times as he did so.

Just then, there were two explosions close to the same time. The bigger one was on an island to the distance, and the other blew apart the front doors of the castle. The arch-demon was flung from the opening.

Everyone looked between the two explosions, especially toward the castle, but all they saw at first was a stream of smoke leaving the castle doorway.

The arch-demon skid across a few islands before stopping on one, at which point he attempted to stand. He stopped when he heard the sound of a gun being pulled in front of his face.

“I do love a good plan as much as the next mastermind,” said Walter, “but yours is over.”

Walter accepted the look of fear and panic on the arch-demon’s face, but then the demon ignored him and looked toward the castle with that expression.

Two figures stood at the doorway then. Dressed for debauchery, but armed with enough power to demolish the entire realm, were two women.

Adamast Cross and Ohm Wire.

-------------
Chapter 30
-------------

The red sky moaned and creaked. Reality blew in like puffs of clouds, and dissipated as silently as they came. Twilight was upon everyone, everywhere, and it burned. Fighting fueled the fire, but the only way to win was to fight.

On one island drifting through the nether realm, darkness and arcane energies swirled around at a devastating rate, and two men stood in the center. Mortar Mage and War Lagoon stood back-to-back as their power tore vile spirits and twisted shrine alike.

Then the entire island blew apart from around Mortar and War. Mortar took a deep breath of air and energy, and pushed out every ounce what the energy he borrowed for that major spell. Or so he tried. Structures turned to rubble and dust as he held on.

His consciousness was slipping.

War Lagoon, as exhausted as he was, noticed this, and caught his friend. “I got you,” he said. “It’s over.”

Then he remembered they reason they’d come here. War turned his head toward the castle. He was surprised, and mildly amused, to see Adamast Cross and Ohm Wire leaping from the doorway, leaving a thin trail of diamond dust and electric sparks.

***

Ohm Wire and Adamast Cross glided toward the arch-demon for a little payback, and they did so holding hands.

When they had begun their retaliation against the Circle’s leader, before stepping out of the castle, Ohm Wire tried her best to apologize to her lover for succumbing to the demons’ will like she had done. However, Adamast would not have it. She told Ohm Wire that there was nothing to forgive, and that, if she really felt sorry, then Ohm Wire should fight with her, side-by-side, to bring down the arch-demon and end his vile scheme.

They landed on the plateau with Walter and the demon formerly known as Bates. Walter still had his gun aimed at the arch-demon for all the good it would do, but he saw the resolve of the two women and set the pistol down to his side.

His last shot would have to wait.

Walter stepped back, and the arch-demon stepped forward. The surprise had passed, and he replaced every feeling he could with rational thought. The arch-demon could still take these two opponents before him, one way or another. He’d come too far, and no one could beat him.

The battle resumed. Demonic essence and flame met with ice and electrical surges. Adamast Cross took the more offensive stance while her other took the defensive. It was their first time fighting side-by-side like such a duo, but they made it seem so natural in spite of their obvious missteps.

Whenever the arch-demon saw an opening for an attack, he took it. Even squaring off against the novice level dance, he managed to get in a few hits, though he did not keep track of whom or where the attacks landed.

Both sides used an incredible amount of super strength in addition to the elements. Walter escaped from the one island, and worked his way over a couple more, still ready to take a shot with his pistol if it ever became necessary. Really, he was struck by the awe of the moment. It was greater than anything he’d imagined when he and Jeff had left the military and decided to become heroes for a city that needed it.

Mary’s appearance changed again since the League had seen her last. Her hair and facial features became more like a female David rather than how she’d looked upon awakening as a succubus, but the horns and demonic wings remained. Princess Undercut and Walter wondered what it meant, seeing her lighter brown hair and changing physique. Mortar Mage needed a moment to think straight because he was exhausted. Psi Wizard and War Lagoon only watched on as the clash of forces grew stronger with every moment.

When the arch-demon leaped and flew, Adamast Cross was able to keep up with the realm’s changes of gravitational pull using her wings, and Ohm Wire held on, hoping that the her added momentum from their jumps reduced the effort that Mary would need to steer them in the right direction.

The arch-demon changed his fighting strategy, and it seemed like he was finally getting the upper hand in the fight with his new tricks he had to use. But then Ohm Wire and Adamast Cross changed roles between offense and defense. Ohm Wire's blows hurt the demon even more, and the demon knew that he could die if he wasn't careful.

They went on like this for a time, the League and Trash Knuckle staying out of the way even though the latter was tempted to jump in and make this fight all about him. The fighters hopped between a select few islands before the smallest of them crumbled from the strain.

Now. Thought the arch-demon. He jumped back and unleashed a powerful attacks, filled to the brim with darkness and red flames, toward the girls, and he laughed as the explosive strike pushed him further.

Ohm Wire and Adamast Cross both went for the defensive to try and block the attack, but it was too much for them. So it sent them reeling backing toward the castle.

“Take any form you want, choose any powers you like, but even if you could beat me, you’ll never win. Not like this! Not when I’ve planned for everything you can throw at me!” The demonic master of the Circle laughed again, his voice stretching across the realm for all to hear.

Adamast stood, and a massive cloud of reality blew where the demolished island once floated before the cloud vanished. Through it, Adamast, could see a fraction of the discord back in the mortal world.

***

War Lagoon held up his friend as they flew toward an island to rest. Neither one of them could go very fast, even assuming that Mortar was fully awake, which he was not.

Three spirits came to meet them. War Lagoon sighed, and prepared to fight with what little strength he had left.

“Wait,” mumbled Mortar Mage.

The three spirits were different from the rest, and yet familiar to him. Mortar could sense that before opening an eye to examine them. They were the ghosts of all three mages who had joined the League a few days ago.

“You have freed us from a terrible fate,” they said in eerie unison.

“I’m glad to help,” Mortar said.

Genine's ghost said, “You have only begun to free yourself. Do not blame yourself for what has happened to us. Be free, Mortar. Fight another day, and another after that.”

“I plan to. Thanks. Rest in peace, my friends.”

Max said, “And you, when the time comes. But, that's not today. Get to safety first. This realm is unsafe, and will soon disappear from Paragon's reach. However, if that crystal is not stopped before then, Paragon will fall, its people turned as we would have been. No, it will be worse for them."

Sean said, "Go now. Let someone else save the world for you. You’re not as alone as you think you are.”

Two more spirits joined behind them. War and Mortar knew them as two of their number, from years ago. One shot his head up in a rapid nod, and the other gave them a thumb up, before the two bumped their ghostly fists.

Then the spirits all vanished into the beyond — into the eternal realm, as Mortar knew it.

***

Another reality cloud passed overhead, revealing the red beams hovering over Paragon.

“We have to end this,” said Mary, her ice armor shedding and leaving the undergarments that the lesser demons dressed her in. “Are you alright?”

“We do.” Kyra said. “Something has to be done to save everyone, and end this nightmare.” Her voice was more pensive in tone, and then she was facing the crystal inside the castle.

“Somehow, I don’t think Bates is going to let us tamper with that toy of his in peace, or whatever his real name is. I could really use one of Walter’s plans right about now.”

“Go then. Keep him busy, and I’ll figure out what to do.”

Mary nodded solemnly, and took a step in the direction of where the arch-demon was standing. Kyra walked into the castle. Before Mary could leap forward, however, the arch-demon laughed again.

“No buttons or force will help you. This isn’t some fairy tale or poorly written television show where the climax resolves itself because you want it to. The only thing any of you can do now is choose how to die.”

Kyra flinched when he said that. There was one thing the arch-demon did not understand, and it looked like it was her turn to do what others had done before her.

“Go get him,” she said to Mary, placing a hand on the crystal. “Goodbye, my love.”

Mary had prepared to jump, but turned suddenly. She watched in horror as Kyra sunk with the crystal, its supporting platform descending. The floor closed before Mary could reach the love of her life. Water entered the chamber as well.

She pounded on the floor, but it would not relent to Mary’s strength. “Open up!” she cried. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Mary, listen to me,” said Kyra, whose voice barely carried through the floor and currents of water between them. “You’ve already sacrificed yourself once to save me from becoming a succubus. Phoebe sacrificed herself to mend my mind and bring back your powers. And then there were Max, Sean, and Genine, and other people. I understand now how important the greater good is, and I know of only this way to protect it. So let me do this. Let this be the last sacrifice anyone has to make. Bring down that asshole so no one else has to pay the ultimate price.”

“Kyra, damn it.”

“I know, my love. I know.”

Kyra wrapped her arms around the crystal and cried into it. The dark chamber, hardly lit by the crystal several times her size, echoed with the sound of water pouring in at a few places and passing her ears. Time was brief, but it was slow.

Drowning sounded like a terrible way to go, but it was enough, wasn’t it?

Kyra examined the crystal, and found a few jagged edges where she could cut herself with some effort. Then she looked down at her hand. Water was flooding the chamber. Her life was ending one way or another.

Yet, she shook. No amount of reason could prevent what she needed to do next.

***

Rage boiled in Mary like she had never felt in all her life, even when she and the rest of the League lost Judy. This time, she was going to do something about it; this time, the asshole was going to pay.

She gritted her teeth, and ran to the edge of the doorway. With a wordless yell that could be heard across the realm, she leaped at her adversary.

-------------
Chapter 31
-------------

Throughout the city of Paragon, more than half of the people fell unconscious with the coming of the enveloping light. Throughout the nether realm, bolts of lightning, red and blue, crashed, and more reality clouds formed.

It was only a matter of time before the two realms melded completely.

As hard as the lightning crashed in some places, it was nowhere as great as the collision between the arch-demon and Adamast Cross. Her first punch, hitting the demonic master in the face, sent a shockwave that echoed through the realm, and parts of Galaxy Park. Their second impact echoed through Nerva, and a third to the south across the bridge.

They jumped and flew through the nether realm, exchanging blows and blocks.

Trash Knuckle whistled while he watched, and the League gathered nearby. He wanted a piece of the action, but he knew that this was a real fight between two monsters, and nothing to do with him. This exciting trip into the Circle’s home turf was becoming more and more boring by the moment, however.

He wasn’t the sort of man who stood around watching others do the fighting. Maybe that was why he’d gotten arrested for jumping into a boxing ring that one time.

“What happened to the rest of the party?” Trash Knuckle asked.

Growls seemingly answered in the distance. Lesser demons remained on a couple of the more mobile islands, which were approaching the one that the heroes and villain were on.

“Alright, now we’re talking!” exclaimed Trash Knuckle.

War said, “Are you sure you’re up for more? I can barely smell you.”

“That’s because I’m holding back my powers. I have my stinking aura up all the time because I’m always surrounded by random twerps worth less than a rat’s turd, and they’re always trying to hurt or kill me. But, you guys? You guys might be alright.”

Trash Knuckle charged for the lesser demons, never mentioning the fact that he was actually getting tired, and was keeping his strength and stench powers on reserve.

“I’m starting to wonder if we can use that boundless energy,” said Walter.

“Oh, don’t be a stinker,” said Psi Wizard.

Walter eyed Princess Undercut, who shrugged. “What? I agree with him.”

***

Adamast Cross continued to fight her loathsome foe, laying more hits into him than he into her ice armor. The worst hit she took so far was the punch that struck her in the chest, but at least the ice armor absorbed the majority of the blow, or the fight would have been over; her final moments in tears of physical pain rather than the loss of the woman she loved.

They flew through a reality cloud and crashed through a building in Talos. The concrete was nothing but stiff paper to their titanic struggle, which left the city as quickly as it had entered.

Her feet skid across the ground of one island, and she pushed back as if to tackle the arch-demon. Ice powers ignited stronger than ever, and she unleashed them in the assault. She encapsulated the demon, and gripped the ice with both hands. She swung the frozen arch-demon against the bottoms and sides of islands while passing them in her enraged flight, but the demon broke free before too long. Both fighters heaved now, yet neither was anywhere near done.

Wings flapped, and they charged once again at one another. Adamast Cross was that much closer to wiping the smile off of the demon’s face. That much closer to ending all of his schemes, now and forever. She punched, she kicked, and she shoved, never giving in to exhaustion, and never slowing down.

Not even to notice the city passing around them again, and vanishing in a mist.

The fighters grabbed on to one another and twirled through the air until they flew through a short waterfall into a cave.

Adamast kicked off of the demon, hoping that he would reach and hit the cavern wall, but he stopped short of it. She slammed a fist into the waterfall, and froze it behind her when her friends caught up outside.

The arch-demon stood. He said, “You should have just told me that you wanted to be alone with me. Or that you wanted your friends to watch while we fucked. We can do that here now, you know.”

“Shut up. You really are a piece of work,” said Adamast Cross.

She ran at him, and continued the assault. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, her energy was starting to run low. However, it seemed like the arch-demon was running out of stamina as well, and his smile was finally cracking the more she struck against him. Simple weapons or punches still wouldn’t be enough, but now she knew how close she was to finally winning against one of the worst monsters Paragon ever knew.

Neither one of them was getting out until the fight was done, though their attacks could still dent or crush stone. The arch-demon unleashed a few more fireballs in their succession of attacks, but only the third hit Adamast.

She fell to one knee. Almost. Almost there, don’t lose now.

***

“I should never have left,” stated Walter. “I could have prevented so much.”

“You had no way of knowing half of this would even happen,” said Princess Undercut.

“I’m better than this, though. I failed everyone, and ran away because I thought it would make me better. I ran thinking I could do so much more.”

“We’re here now. Don’t fall apart on us, fearless leader. We need you. Mary needs you, even though she now fights on her own. Especially now. I hate to admit that, but we do.”

Walter pounded on the ice wall, water running down one side of it, “Bates, you better hope she doesn’t lose to you, or I’m next. Do you hear me?”

A hideous, unnatural scream caught the League’s attention. They turned to find a demon that had been trying to sneak up from behind, but now it was standing in the creek and writhing in pain while vapors rose from its legs. The demon fell forward and disintegrated.

Half of the League had been touching the water with their own feet, they all realized, and most of them jumped away out of instinct.

Then Trash Knuckle called out from another island, “Hey, what’s the deal with these pipsqueaks? They suddenly don’t like the water!”

Mortar Mage scooped a hand into the creek, and let the water slip through his bare fingers. “It’s only affecting the demons.”

Elsewhere...

Ohm Wire drifted away from the crystal as it glowed a dim violet. She gave it so much of her power. She gave so much of her life for a world greater than herself. Blood dripped from her palm into the water, but she could feel nothing then.

***

Adamast had been facing the ice blockade when her friends turned away following the scream, which was muffled by the cavern walls. She also saw the smile finally drain from the arch-demon’s face and turn to dread in a flash.

Oh, Kyra, please wait for me.

“It looks like your plan has failed,” Adamast Cross said, finally getting up.

The arch-demon said, “That one took so long to prepare, but it’s not my only machination. I can always move forward, and I will when I’m done with you.”

“Forget it. You’re done.”

The cave moaned as a reality cloud passed through a wall, revealing the Faultline district for a brief moment, and then Adamast launched another series of attacks at the arch-demon.

He parried most of her attacks before Adamast socked him in the jaw. He paid her back with a punch to the stomach, and Adamast fell again.

Damn it, so close. Hold it together, Mary.

However, the arch-demon grabbed Adamast by her scalp, and lifted her.

“What makes you tic?” he asked, the demon's voice shaking. “I have seen generations of people give up their well-being because they sought better for themselves. I have ruined countless lives both for fun and for some scheme, big or small, in a network of loftier goals. But you! You took the succubus for yourself, and nearly gave me trouble because of it.”

“Only nearly? Well then, I'm glad to hear it,” said Adamast.

“You may die knowing that you, and your friends, managed to thwart me one time, but know this. There are only so many of you. Sooner or later, there will be no more chances, no more heroes, and there will be an end to new beginnings.”

“Only one of you, though. Don’t let my double vision fool you.”

“I am immortal. I’ve created two Seeds of Eternity to make this plan work. I gave you servants to help you on the way to corruption so you would be unable to fight my advances. I opened the way through this realm, bypassing barriers you mortals could never fathom, so I could find and use that crystal. And I can do it all again, with new forces as may be. If it will take another couple of centuries to create a world of my liking then that will be no trouble at all. Only, next time, you will not be there to stop me.”

She vaguely heard Psi Wizard in her mind up until then. The water burns them. Use that. You can do it.

Out of one eye, Adamast saw a reality cloud forming where the ice blockage met rock. It was different this time. Like overcast in place of random tufts of clouds. So much water—Adamast wondered, could that body of water, whatever it was, destroy any demon it touched? Could it be that simple?

And Adamast huffed.

“What?” asked the arch-demon.

“Oh, we’ll keep on trying,” she responded. Adamast grabbed the demon’s arm that was holding her, and then used her legs and whatever remained of her ice powers to kick him in the torso.

The arch-demon grunted and let go.

To the bitter end. All she had left was a moment and an ounce of super strength. She hoped that was enough, and that she was right about the water beyond that cloud.

“To the end of time!” Adamast yelled, ramming into a screaming arch-demon before he could recover. They hit rock, and ice, and torrential amounts of water.

They drifted apart, but the water stung so much. It hurt worse for the demonic master, who faded into the darkness of the sea, his form dissolving and reaching out in its finals moment.

Adamast felt her consciousness slipping, but she looked without really knowing why. She did not want to be alone, perhaps. Yet, she looked with what little time she had left, and she found another body drifting.

It was Kyra.

She swam with her feeble, deteriorating form, with no breath to speak of, until she reached her lover. They were together at last when her eyes failed, and they continued to drift to the unknown.

Author's Note: Here is the ending. I hope y'all have enjoyed this story. Please show your support any way you can, whether it's helping this wonderful site or by seeking out other stories I've written (including any on Amazon).

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Chapter 32
-------------

The clouded remains of the nether realm was shaking violently when the League and their villainous companion exited through a portal of Mortar Mage’s making. He did not trust the one they took to enter the realm, nor even the idea of crossing the realm to get there. He barely had the energy left to make the new portal, too.

Not two seconds had passed after the last person got out that the portal fizzled out. They were back in Nerva, and the Circle mages they had left behind slowly faded across the entire city including the island chain that the heroes were on.

Fumes rose from the bodies. Many of them were alive, only barely, and they would need medical attention, Mortar surmised. Those now-mortal men and women were lucky to be alive. He examined one nearby with Psi Wizard’s aid. The Circle mage’s eyes were a little red, but the ones who had touched any amount of water and survived were completely human. The next question, after the hospitals were done treating them, was what the law was going to do with these mages who’d lost so much of their power and malice.

“Amazing,” said Psi Wizard.

Mortar Mage said, “Find one without fumes, pour water on them, and get back to me. Do it quickly.” This fascinated him. He hoped that the water in this plain of reality still had the same effect as they had all witnessed in the other realm.

“Right. I’ll be right back.” Psi Wizard departed for his search.

Trash Knuckle said, “It’s been fun, but it’s time to go. The sun’s coming up, and I doubt any of us wants to be seen with one another.”

“Trash,” said War, “thanks. If we find another party for you to crash . . .”

“No invitation necessary. See you around, weirdoes.” Then he ran off in a laugh.

Walter said, “I’ve had worse allies, that’s for certain. Anyways, Mortar, I’m going to go ahead and call for medical help for these mages, if that’s alright with you.”

“By all means,” Mortar replied.

Walter pulled out his phone and called an acquaintance of his who oversaw many medical facilities along the Northeastern States.

“Hey, Frank? It’s me, Walter. Oh, a hell of a night you say? I see. I see. Dear, oh dear. Well, I’m calling about some robed men and women who are passed out here in Nerva. They’ve been spotted in the city and Striga as well, really? OK, OK, thanks. I’ll let you get on with your job; let me know if you need anything.”

“Well?” asked Princess Undercut.

“The hospitals are filling up like crazy even without these Circle mages all over the place.”

“I mean, what now?”

“We still need to get help for these men and women,” said Mortar. “Once I have the energy, I can get them to other facilities across the country with Walter’s help since he’s better with people than I am, but, when these mages awaken, they’ll be in shock without their demonic essence or powerful magic. The water will be dangerous to anyone with blood or spiritual link to the Circle’s demons, and we don't know how far this reaches yet. Psi should be confirming that any moment now.”

“It sounds like clean-up duty,” noted Walter. “Alright, we’ll take this in shifts, and find more people who can cast portals as Mortar suggests. We’ll rest at the mansion, and wait there for word on Mary and Kyra.”

Princess Undercut asked, “Mary and Kyra? Do you think they’re still alive?”

“You’ve already thought them dead once, and they turned up over the weekend with one of them having transformed into a fine young woman. If we wait long enough . . .”

“They’ll come back to us as strapping young men?”

“I’m not sure how I feel about this constant of gender swaps being a thing now in Paragon. But, seeing as how anything’s possible at this point, let’s go home and wait.”

***

“Hello, I’m filling in for Monica after the events of last night. Get well soon, Monica. Meanwhile, the search is on for answers as authorities and mystics investigate the fallout we had here in Paragon City.”

“One week after The Event, we are hit with the equally devastating Rancor Night, as it is now being called.”

“Both police and the feds are on the lookout for a former Vambraceman, Captain Bates. He has been missing since the Siren’s Storm a few days ago. When asked if they believe the man is still alive given the heavy casualties suffered at the Vambracemen base, authorities could not comment at this time.”

“An estimated twenty-three million in damage has been reported across the city during the events of Rancor Night. This officially outweighs the property damage of The Event, but the cost in lives was mysteriously less staggering.”

“Lynn Libaridian makes news again today as she expresses sorrow for the victims of Rancor Night. She and her husband Rilwan East have expressed a desire to aid the homeless with their new collection of . . .”

“The National Guard has come to Paragon City in response to recent crises. However, due to our dealings with the Vambracemen, the National Guard has been met with less than a hospitable welcome. As they have tried to remind us of events six years ago, at least one group of protesters tell them to 'Go find another city to bother.'”

“Could last night have been part of an ancient alien conspiracy? One researcher seems to think so.”

“This would never have happened if the President got off his high horse and did his job rather than try to push affordable medicine and gay rights down our throats. Now we have Rancor Night to add to the atrocities under his administration.”

And the news reports kept going, some more ridiculous than the rest, well past the afternoon. People continued to let themselves be glued to their televisions and radios rather than looking outside where the real news was happening.

Heroes were busy that day. There were lives to save from a force that had come and gone, but its impact persistent, and the people worn thin.

***

Her senses kicked in all at once, and Mary coughed up a lung with the amount of water coming out of her throat. She felt so strange.

“The other one’s waking up,” announced a voice.

Mary held a hand over her eyes to block the sun. She was surrounded by number of people including a lifeguard. She looked to her left and saw Kyra coughing and spitting while facing the ground.

“You’re both going to be OK,” said another voice. “We’ve called for ambulances, but they’re totally swamped still. Here, let me help you up.”

Even though her sense were back, it took moments to realize that she was still a woman and men were touching her. And nothing was happening. Nothing except for a towel falling from her ample boobs. Were they lighter and smaller now, despite still being huge?

She knelt down to swipe the towel, and dizziness took her over as Mary stood back up.

Everyone was crowding her and Kyra, and asking more questions than they could answer at once. It was taking a long time just to process the fact that her horns and wings were gone, she could touch anyone without such a dangerous consequence as before, and she was still a woman.

Why were there so many questions? Why couldn’t these people leave her alone to figure out her own questions for herself?

“Stop, please!”

The bold, masculine voice did not come from either Kyra nor Mary. The crowd, falling silent, turned toward a hero who had just shown up on the scene. Mary recognized him as the one who she encountered at the police station however many days ago. She wasn’t ready to count yet.

The hero escorted Kyra and Mary to a more comfortable spot on the beach. Peregrine Beach; they knew this place. The same hero assured everyone that the ladies would be fine in time, but they needed to give them some room to breathe.

“Thank you,” said Mary.

“Yes, that was almost as painful as cutting my hand open and drowning,” said Kyra. “How did we get here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was luck.”

“You hate luck, Mary.” Kyra rested a hand on Mary’s face. “How is any of this possible?”

The hero cleared his throat.

Mary said, “Oh yes. I never did get your name. What is it?”

“It’s Saelum Blaster,” said the hero. “I’m sorry, have we met somewhere? Your voice is familiar, and there’s something about you.”

“Maybe you’d recognize me with horns.” She imitated them with her index fingers. “And darker, more ashy hair.”

“What? That hero from the other night? But, those looked so real.”

“They were.”

“What happened to you?”

“It’s such a long story. I doubt you’d believe it if either of us knew where to begin.”

“Maybe over a cup of coffee or tea sometime?” Please say tea. Please say tea. Nobody else drinks that around here.

Mary and Kyra grasped one another’s hand. Kyra asked, “Both of us?”

Unless they’re taken. Saelum thought. Damn.

Meanwhile, at the entrance to the beach, Tatiana and Wyatt arrived by car after Walter had received a tip about two naked women washing up on the beach, and that they were being resuscitated. They hurried out of the vehicle and went looking for their friends.

“Mary!” Tatiana called out.

“They might be unconscious, or maybe someone took them to the hospital already,” Wyatt said.

“I don’t care. Mary! Kyra!”

“Or maybe that’s them over by that hero.” He pointed by some trees where two women were sitting before a man in costume. That poor man felt like he had just been shot down.

The two of them joined the small group under the shade provided by the trees. Tatiana gasped when she saw Mary without her horns, her wings, or—

“Where are your clothes?” Tatiana asked.

Mary replied, “They were woven with demon magic, so it could have had something to do with that . . . maybe? I don’t know. I think the succubus’s knowledge is gone too.”

Tatiana hugged both women. “Don’t scare me like that again, you two.”

Wyatt looked around the beach, and said, “You know, this beach looks familiar.”

“We live in Paragon, and have been to the beach a few times, sweety. Of course it’s familiar.”

“No, I mean really familiar. Isn’t this the same stretch of beach with that detached sewer system?”

The girls stood and looked along the shoreline. Further down the beach, by some rocks to the south, there was a sewer opening. They laughed. Of all the places to have ended up, they reunited here.

In the place where this all began.

“Do I even want to know?” asked Saelum Blaster.

“Long story,” said everyone else.

Wyatt said, “You know, if that same gang pops out of that hole in the ground, I’m laughing.”

Mary said, “If that happens, I’ll gladly find out what they’re up to and bring them down if I need to.”

“With what clothes?” asked Kyra.

Just then, the opening to the sewer opened, and a member of the Freakshow walked out of the detached sewer tunnel. He was too busy nodding his head to the music coming from his headphones to notice people watching from the trees.

Kyra leered back at her lover, who now coated herself in a fresh suit of ice armor. Then she phased out of sight with her electric field.

“Alright,” Adamast Cross began, “rest time is over.”

She smiled through her ice armor, and gave chase with Kyra right beside her.

.
-------------
Epilogue
-------------

Two weeks later

People gathered at a stadium in Galaxy Park to watch a number of talents, such as singers, dancers, and comedians. Tonight was a special night.

After over a week of her mom saying she would visit if Kyra would perform in front of unknown thousands of people, Kyra relented and agreed to dance for her parents and so many strangers.

Kyra sat in front of her mirror, doing her last few touches to her outfit and make-up, when Mary walked in with a bouquet of roses.

Also, a phone.

“What’s this?” Kyra asked.

“A gift from Warren. He said he’d explain later, but Tatiana’s been bugging him to give us all a way to keep in touch with one another more easily.”

“Because yelling from the kitchen that food is ready is so difficult, Tatiana.”

“At least he’s busy with things that won’t cause the city immediate harm. Somehow, that just doesn’t get old.”

“Nice roses.”

“Thank you. I thought they went well with my evening dress.” Said the woman that used to be a man not even a month ago but was now doing alright living as the opposite sex.

“Maryann.”

“But, they look better here, waiting for you when you get back from your beautiful performance.” Mary set the roses and phone down on the table. “When’s your turn on stage, by the way?”

“Any minute now. Did you get a good seat?”

“I tried, then I ran into your folks. They had an extra ticket.”

“And they recognized you?”

“Strangely yes, they did. I still had to tell them my new name, but your mom knew right away who I was, rather than my sister or anything.”

“I never could hide anything from her.”

A man in a headset peeked into the room. “Miss Hobbs, you’re up in five minutes.”

“I’ll be right there! Go on, Mary, I’ll see you and my folks later.”

They kissed, much to the surprise of a few other performers still scattered around the large make-up room. Then Mary left.

Kyra sighed with delight, and told herself she could do this. She glanced at the phone a split second before the screen flashed a neon green. She had received a message.

“Hello? Is this working? Sorry to intrude.”

Raising a brow, Kyra typed a response. “Who is this?”

***

“Are you guys ready to go? We’ll be late if we don’t take a portal over to the stadium in the next couple minute or less,” said Jeff.

Walter said, “Just about. Now, Warren, why are we doing this now?”

“Because,” started Warren, “we’ve been using this house as our base for a couple weeks, and I’ve begun to redo our communications. On a night like this, it’s a good idea to be prepared. Then nothing will happen. See?”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“All I have to do is turn the switch, and our old base computer will be online, better than ever.”

“Perhaps I should have brought a fire extinguisher the size of Rexplosion.”

Warren ignored him and smiled while flipping the switch no bigger than his thumb. The computer system lit up. Across the rooms of the mansion reserved for the League’s base of operations, systems turned on without incident.

And for that, Warren clapped his hands together.

The new meeting room now had the same holographic screen as the old one used to, but in higher definition. The computer’s scanner probed the entire house with a pair of green and blue lights, so now it could pick up any person or animal on the premises.

Mortar Mage would have to upgrade that sometime, as well as redo the city scanner. But, tonight, Warren was a fan of entertainment.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“I’ll catch up,” said Walter.

When the others had gone, he set down the old group photo, a new one, and a single flower upon the meeting table. The flower was a hot pink with white edges, and it was a favorite of an old friend. Walter rubbed a finger over the older group photo.

“Have a good night, little miracle.”

Once it was alone, the computer scanned the photos and then the Japanese Lily. Everything was working perfectly. Every file and folder inside the computer's mainframe was intact, as well as so many systems. The computer’s voice whispered an “ooh,” before running its limited memory banks. All of the old files were intact, including a hidden fragment from an unknown source.

***

Kyra set her phone down and walked away. Hopefully, no one would try to steal the nice flowers or phone while she was on the stage, dancing her heart out.

A second message came while she was away.

“I’m someone who can be your ally. Good luck on your dance. –Joule_SAIkatsu15”

Somewhere in Paragon, a girl’s scream sounded.