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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
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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
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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.”

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.

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.

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.

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.

“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.”

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.

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.

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 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!

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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.

-------------
Chapter 16
-------------

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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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
-------------

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.

-------------
Chapter 27
-------------

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
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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.

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Chapter 30
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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.

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Chapter 31
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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.”

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
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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.

.
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Epilogue
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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.

Author's Note: The Title Page has a note or two from me, and also the prologue. Please read both before you continue.

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Chapter 01
-------------

Ohm Wire stuck the landing after hopping a stone wall with an iron gate at the top. She made it. It was damn near a shame there was no audience present to congratulate her on the performance, but that came with the territory of scouting the outskirts of town at night, even somewhere as lively as Paragon.

Her visor, designed by Mortar Mage to tolerate interference from electricity or radiation while still keeping in touch with the League, displayed a message. The message came from her informant, a hacker called Joule_SAIkatsu15:

“You got excited at making it inside of a graveyard, didn’t you?”

“Cemetery,” Ohm Wire teased back. The words she whispered registered within the visor’s system, which typed and sent it back to her still-mysterious ally.

“Fine, you made an excited entrance inside of a cemetery.”

“Better. Besides, we only live once . . . usually.” Ohm Wire decidedly put the rest of that thought behind her as she moved forward, using the grave markers as cover in case her information was correct.

Not three moments later, there was an unusual glow from deep within the cemetery, and Ohm Wire knew that not only was there in fact a disturbance going on here, but she knew which way to go rather than meandering through such an enormous plot of land in the dark. The only big question remaining was what had happened to the security around here? This cemetery, meant for heroes in general, was supposed to be well-guarded.

She hurried toward the glow, careful not to draw too much attention to herself just yet.

“Careful, Ohmie,” read the next message from the hacker as Ohm Wire got closer still. She huffed. In the past few months, she gathered that either her hacker friend had a detached, almost non-existent personality, or her secret ally—no one else in the Dallevan League knew about Joule_SAIkatsi15 any more than she told them, which wasn’t much—was just detached when they made contact with one another.

Either way, “Ohmie” was the only hint at life on the other side. Kyra, or Ohm Wire, thought it cute enough to let it go. For now.

Ohm Wire got close enough now that she could see a few figures. One man charged two others with the dirty work of pulling something out of a hole in the ground.

Grave robbers. she thought to herself.

There were rumors and reports—also rice binging rap battle contests on a popular music television channel—that mentioned grave robbers across the country, and that the grave robbers had moved into Paragon lately. It sounded like a bigger operation, though in the shadows, but it appeared that Ohm Wire found the men responsible.

Since her body could produce a number of electrical fields with a few various effects, Ohm Wire chose and used the one to wrap herself in that bent most light. It wasn’t perfect, but most people couldn’t see her if they weren’t looking.

The casket had barely slid steadily onto higher ground when Ohm Wire charged. She tackled the man in charge, and let a set of metal claws spring from one of her wristbands. Their tips barely touched the man’s neck once he was on the grass.

“I don’t think the dead like being disturbed,” said Ohm Wire. “Especially not at this ungodly hour.”

However, as uncomfortable as the man sounded and looked, he said, “Oh look. I was wondering when one of you Paragon City folk were going to show up.”

“Blame it on a bad bowl of rice.”

“On a bad bowl of...? What?”

Those poor rappers; they had to finish their battle on the toilet because they ate too much.

Just then, the two diggers attacked Ohm Wire from behind with their shovels. She turned in time, however, and cut the spade from its wooden handle on one of the shovels. Her other set of claws came alive.

She spent a good moment unarming both men while trying not to think too much about the tiki masks they were wearing on top of their black, skin-tight outfits. The two men only moaned and groaned as they attacked about as efficiently as a pair of heavily inebriated amateurs, and got up again in a way that wasn’t normal by any standard.

If it wasn’t for the basic movements, the fact that such a thing wasn’t exactly possible—which was saying a lot in a city that had seen aliens, demons, ghosts, magic, superpowers, and a disco club in the 90s—and also that they weren’t going for her brains, Ohm Wire would have sworn that she was fighting a pair of zombies.

The third man, who wore no mask to cover his gaunt features and bore a marginally better fashion sense, got up as well, and laughed.

Ohm Wire backed off from the fight in time to see more figures entering the light. Two more men; they looked and walked like the third, unmasked man. And they spoke in unison with the same voice, “You are in over your head, hero.”

The triplets raised their hands. Ohm Wire took a defensive stance, what little she had since her fighting style was more dance oriented rather than pure martial arts based. Their hands glowed an eerie shade of green.

With a jolt, Ohm Wire flew backward through the air. Tried as she might, there was no way to control where she was going, so she did the one thing her instinct could come up with. She enveloped herself in a defensive field of electricity. Then she hit something, and the world exploded around her in a tidal wave of sparks.

Cingeteyrn’s copies faded as they approached him, and his dry smile mocked the foolish girl who now sat and cooked in the distance.

“Time to go,” he said to his minions.

Long ago, they had been men and women. They had perhaps been a dozen of them, but no more. Now, they simply served. The body they took tonight might become like him, or like a part of them. The next couple of days would tell.

The servants grabbed the casket, and Cingeteyrn activated the device he carried. A mixture of lights took them away from this place.

Soon, he thought, they would be whole again. Then they would find their way home, and destroy it in their image.

Ohm Wire kicked away something that was heavy, she wasn’t sure what, and she coughed. The burning smells assaulting her nose were a little much, as was her headache. If that were a simple electric shock, it would have tickled at most, but it was more than that. She crashed into the side of the funeral home through its power generator.

Clenching her arms to ward off the cold sensation catching up with her, Ohm Wire walked to where those men were. They were gone, and they somehow took the casket just as quickly.

She swore a number of profanities to herself by the time the hacker got through on her visor system.

“Are you OK?” asked Joule_SAIkatsu.

“I will be, I hope,” she responded.

“You hope? What happened?”

“Sparked a relationship with a new supervillain. Or villains. They took off with a body.”

“That’s not good. Any idea whose body it is?”

“Checking now. You’ll see it when I do.”

Ohm Wire walked to the grave, and looked upon the stone. It was dirty and tilted from the upheaval of dirt, but she could make out the name. However, before she did, the hacker already reacted. “Oh no.”

“I need to tell the others,” Ohm Wire said.

Mary didn’t always work this late, but the last person she needed to meet was only ever available when most parents went to sleep, save heroes and villains as the city was known for. After this last talk, she knew.

She knew why another kid had run off to make a name as either a hero or a villain, and they died without the parent ever knowing until now.

Now she knew why her list of parents she needed to inform was still so long after a few months of being at this second job.

That was what Mary did when she wasn’t coaching gym classes at Steel Canyon Intermediate, saving lives as the hero Adamast Cross, or dating her wonderful girlfriend. Sometimes, Mary wondered if she was wearing herself thin, but at least she knew now why her job was so difficult.

Some parents worked multiple jobs to support their child, hardly making enough time to know that the same kid might have superpowers, or that the kid in question was sneaking off to be one of the capes practically flooding the city. The kid would die, and the same parent would continue to know nothing.

Maryann buried her head in her hands because she was tired. If it wasn’t for this last case, she might have been out herself, spending time with her girlfriend, who was also a hero.

There was a knock on the door. After midnight? Either it was someone she knew who was looking for her, or Mary had to suppose she had it coming for leaving a light on at this hour. She called out that the door was open.

So, someone opened it. It was a woman who could pass for Mary’s sister. No, it was her sister. Mary had not seen her since she—back when Mary was a man, and longer ago still by many years—left home. As the woman drew closer, her identity became clearer to Mary, who remained seated at her desk.

“Hello,” said Jackie. “I’m sorry to trouble you, but I’m looking for someone. A man who was a costumed hero before a woman took his place. I need to know what happened to him. Oh, you look so much like him.”

“Like David, you mean,” Mary replied, trying to hold her contempt for the other woman.

“Yes, David Curry. Did you know him? Is he still around?”

If Jackie couldn’t put it together, then Mary wasn’t about to tell her that birds flew, or fish swam. “I know the name, and the face. What brings you here from Arizona? It’s a long way from home.”

“I needed to know if he was still around. I needed to leave him a message. To say sorry, and goodbye. If I cannot be forgiven by the Lord above, then hopefully by my brother. Please, help me.”

“We don’t generally look for the living unless it’s to contact the relatives of the recently deceased.”

“Yes? Yes.” Jackie quivered. “There’s a good chance I’m about to die. I was hoping to find David, or someone who can contact him, that I gave my life. Our aunt and uncle got me this far, but they won’t tell me more than this. So, please, help me.”

For the first time in a while, Mary admitted something to herself. As much as she loathed her highly religious sister, she did not want the woman to die. It nearly drove her to a grimace as Maryann continued to ask questions. No longer as Maryann Curry the city employee, but as Maryann with a secret identity that her sister somehow knew about.

Mary said, “What do you mean you might die? If you want my help, then I’ll need to know.”

Jackie responded in a quivering mess, “You’ve heard of the issues being suffered at the power plant?”

“I have. For the last few days, working crews could barely contain whatever it is that’s going on, but at least we still have power generators around the city for major operations.”

The lamp flickered, and Maryann eyed it briefly. As a city employee, she was allowed more than this one light while some people out there suffered without electricity because they couldn’t afford a basic generator and fuel, but she refused the additional lights as much as she could get away with, unlike the mayor and a number of businessmen who burned through their limited power supply like candy. At least some of the millionaires and major businesses had the good sense to help other people with generators of their own.

She continued to explain, “For the last forty-eight hours, Mayor Oldman has sent heroes in one by one to investigate, but they’ve continued to vanish. A wiser human being would send a whole team, risks be damned.”

“I’m the next person to go in,” Jackie said solemnly.

“What? I heard he was only sending in heroes. All of them volunteers, yes, but every one of them with a rank of 8 or higher.” That had ensured that volunteers would at least have superpowers, for the little good it would have done. One villain even went in, it turned out only after the man had vanished like the heroes.

Then Jackie engulfed her body in a suit of ice half as thick as Adamast Cross could produce when David had left his hometown for Paragon. Once again, Mary learned something new that she wasn't expecting.

“Your powers finally manifested,” Mary said.

“They’re horrible,” said Jackie. “They’re an affront to God, and I’m giving my life in hopes of forgiveness for whatever I did wrong.”

“You did nothing wrong!” Don’t step on religion’s toes, Mary. Don’t do it. “This is a part of who we are. It is a part of our design, like our bole-colored eyes. There is neither shame nor sin to being able to do what we can do, only in what we do with it, you ass.”

“Stop it! I just want to do what’s right.”

“And you think anyone would be happy if you died because you threw your life away? Which is right, adding to those flames, or putting them to rest with the aide of others?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Jackie fell to her knees, her ice armor still up.

Mary brought up her own ice armor as she stood and walked around the desk, kneeled, and at last hugged her sister for the first time in longer than she could remember. Through two layers of ice, she shared her warmth with a woman she had spent decades despising.

“You’re not alone,” she said to her sister, “and you don’t have to be.”

“David.” Jackie gasped.

“Not for four months now.”

“No, I mean, David-Mary-whatever? What’s that?”

Mary let her eyes follow the direction that her sister was pointing. There was an armlet wrapped around a secondary desk lamp. While the lamp was off, the light on the armlet was flashing red.

Someone in the League had some really bad news.

-------------
Chapter 02
-------------

“Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! I shouldn’t have let her go out alone tonight,” Mary said, walking into the mansion where the League was based. Her sister followed. “Computer, we have company. Please grant access to my sister Jackie.”

“Right away,” spoke the computer in the same feminine voice it had since their last base. It scanned Jackie and ringed while the sisters made their way through the mansion.

In the meeting room, Walter, their man in charge, was drinking coffee; Jeff, dressed as War Lagoon, was reading out of a thick binder; Warren was running around, switching off between computers and putting on his costume as Mortar Mage. Jackie averted her eyes upon seeing Mortar’s brief nudity.

“Where is she?” Mary asked.

Walter said, “In the next room. Wyatt’s examining her.”

Wyatt? Mary hadn’t seen him or his wife in a few weeks since they had taken off for a vacation. She would have to ask about Tatiana, but that could wait. Mary stormed the kitchen, which Wyatt was using to examine Ohm Wire. The man was a pediatrician by trade, but he was still a good doctor in general.

“How is she?” Mary asked.

While the doctor lipped for Mary to ask Kyra herself, Ohm Wire said, “I could be better. I just bit off more than I could chew. But if someone could let me say—“

She squeaked when Mary hugged her tightly.

“Kyra’s healthy as far as I can tell,” said Wyatt, “but I would advise against doing anything crazy for a day or two.”

“Crazy’s kind of part of the job description, Wyatt,” said Mary.

“That’s why Tatiana and I left for a little while. Though, she still gets up in the wee hours of the night to pick out baby items from one of our many catalogs littering the living room. It’s looking more catastrophic by the day since the two of you moved out. At least the baby hasn’t needed too much womb service lately.”

Maryann and Kyra moaned, as did Jackie.

“Oh hello, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure,” the doctor said to Jackie, extending his hand to her.

“Wyatt, Jackie. Jackie, Wyatt.” Mary introduced with a couple waves of her hand.

“Your sister?”

“The one and only. Don’t worry, she won’t bite.”

“Given your history . . .”

“She’s not a vampire, or a succubus.” Mary looked at Jackie. “Long story.”

Jackie nodded with a heavy dose of uncertainty washed all over her face. Any second, Mary thought, Jackie was going to run into the night screaming that her sister really was evil incarnate. However, she did no such thing.

“Can I please explain what happened, now?!” Kyra’s arms flailed as she tried so hard to make herself known. “We’ve got a grave digger problem.” She paused when Jackie grunted in disgust. “I stumbled upon them tonight after my informant pointed the way. They overpowered me, left me for dead without realizing that a lightning bolt can’t kill me.”

“You did what you could,” Mary tried to console her.

“I’m not sure I did. That poor girl. I failed her.”

“Failed who?”

“Judy. Those assholes took her body.”

The kitchen had a full audience now as the others filtered through the door, and it was dead quiet. Mortar Mage’s face contorted between shock and anger, while Walter and War Lagoon frowned.

Mortar asked, “Would you be able describe what these grave robbers look like?”

“Sure. A couple of them looked like S&M rejects with tiki masks. The man who led them wore no mask, but he . . . they? . . . wore a dark trench coat over dress pants and a casual t-shirt. I didn’t catch his name, their name. I don’t even know. The three of them looked so much alike.”

“We’ll find them, don’t you worry about it. No one exhumes our friend’s body without a damn good reason, and even still without a good pummeling.”

“Thanks, Warren.”

“No problem. Now, I may not be the doctor here, but you should get some sleep.”

Mary said, “Meanwhile, we’ve got another problem. My sister volunteered to be the next hero at the power plant. I think it’s time we went beyond the mayor’s authority.” Short pause. “Again. I swear I’m done with that guy.”

“The power plant will be heavily guarded, so that might be a problem,” said Walter. “Even teleporters can’t get in there for some reason.”

Everyone who knew Mortar looked at him before he could say anything, his heels rocking back and forth upon the wave of attention. Jackie caught on quickly and looked his way as well. He exhaled heavily with a light smile, and turned back toward the garage, where he had a workshop for devices and low-level spells that still had a habit of exploding things.

Jackie said, “Was that a sigh of ‘yeah, I got something,’ or a sigh of ‘go fuck yourself?’”

Everyone else in the room said, “A bit of both.”

After using one of the restrooms, Maryann came across her sister at the foot of some stairs. Jackie was drinking tea, judging by the color and scent of what she had in her cup. Mary sat down next to her.

“Hey,” Mary said to her sister.

Jackie huffed through her nose. “I think this is the most you’ve said to me in the last nine or ten years.”

“Things change.”

“Like God-given body parts.”

“Like peoples’ genders and beliefs. Paragon’s really had it out for the former lately. You said our aunt and uncle sent you my way, right? Were they the ones who told you about me being Adamast Cross?”

“No, they weren’t.” Jackie took a sip of tea when her hands stopped jittering. “I still remember when your powers first manifested.”

“As do I. I try not to think of the scorn I got from you that day.” They had a hard enough time getting along before that, but that moment sealed the deal forever and left David with nothing kind to say or think or feel about his sister.

“Because I thought the Lord’s way was the only way, or I thought that was it. I don’t know anymore. Am I wrong?”

“I couldn’t tell you, Jackie. I’ve met all sorts of people and seen enough things to question everything, including my own beliefs. You might too for as long as you’re here in town.”

“I’m not sure I could take it. I don’t even know how I’m still breathing after my ice powers manifested. Especially after Mom and Dad disowned me. I dropped nursing school and came to Paragon hoping to sacrifice myself, to make things right, and maybe make sense of it all. I’m such a mess.”

“That’s why you can’t sleep?” Mary asked.

“God, no. I just have trouble sleeping in a stranger’s home.”

“So did I when I moved in with our aunt and uncle. I thought no one was stranger than them until I met these guys. And now they’re all my family. I still visit and talk to our aunt and uncle sometimes, but they understand that I have a life now.”

“They must have been surprised when you changed.”

“About as much so as when they learned about my ice powers.”

“So, not at all?”

“Nope. They even gave me a stern talking to for running off without telling them anything when my change happened, but they were far from surprised, and I’ve yet to figure out why that is. Now I live with Kyra, and we sometimes come over for dinner. I'm still not sure I trust their meatloaf.”

The last note earned a chortle from her sister.

Jackie finished her tea and set it down. She and Mary sat in silence for a time while the rest of the League did their thing. War Lagoon went back out on patrol, this time with Psi Wizard now that Wyatt was back and wearing his hero uniform. Kyra played cards with Walter. Tatiana was at home, trying to sleep as much as her pregnancy would allow. Mortar Mage was doing . . . something; no one knew what exactly.

“I do hope he didn’t get sidetracked,” stated Mary. Her sister looked at her curiously. “Mortar Mage has a habit of getting sidetracked easily.”

“You really think he can help me?” asked Jackie.

“I’m sure he can. He’ll probably have the perfect solution to the power plant problem. Then, while Walter figures out the master plan to beat these grave diggers, and we’ll be able to enjoy a nice warm plate of waffles and call it another week in Paragon. You’ll see, there’s totally nothing to worry about.”

The Arachne Regime shall rise again. The Arachne Regime stands supreme!

This was the chant and battle cry of several men and women, many of whom sat in attendance inside of a hall with unpolished, wooden beams, black cloth along the sides, and concrete flooring. It looked like the mess hall in a war camp, and these men and women were always ready to go to war to claim power over Paragon and then the world.

As far as they knew, half of the room consisted of new recruits to their cause. One such recruit shifted and listened with limited patience as someone, possibly the head honcho or someone close to it, crossed the stage.

“Welcome, everyone,” said the man without any lack of confidence, though his enthusiasm was underplayed. “I have gathered you all here this morning because our time approaches. We have suffered a great many trials in the past, and half as many setbacks, but now we are stronger. Wiser. We know better than to stand in the open when the community of misled heroes is ready to strike like a foolhardy child against a garden variety of spider. We may have lost great leaders, but, in time we will rule—“

The impatient recruit yawned audibly and stretched, interrupting the speaker. To nearly everyone in the hall, she looked like another average woman. However, the recruit removed her gold and green wristband in the course of the distracting stretch, and she became a he before everyone’s eyes. On top of that, he let his superpowers do their thing.

“Bored now!” exclaimed Trash Knuckle just before he got up and used one neighboring recruit to pile drive into another. He had only begun to thrash everyone in sight, and Trash Knuckle flew at the speaker that he cut off only a moment ago.

Oh yeah. Now this was more his style.

-------------
Chapter 03
-------------

Outside of the safety barricade around the Paragon Power Plant, news crews gathered at first light; even if that first light was a guard lighting up a cigarette.

They found and practically bombarded Diamond Grace when she arrived on the scene. Their questions were numerous and difficult to pick out, but Diamond Grace answered what she could while making her way to the barricade.

“We heard you were assigned this mission last night; what took you so long to come down here?” “Miss Diamond Grace, how will you succeed where others have failed?” “What do you think you’ll find in there?”

“The seventh time is the charm,” said Diamond Grace. “And I am blessed, because I’m going in, but not truly alone. Now excuse me, I have a city to save.”

The reporters called after her, but she kept going, passing the guards and the barricade. They handed her a reader and a radiation suit just in case, they told her. She never once asked what it was for. Instead, she nodded and carried on.

Once she got inside, Diamond Grace took a deep breath. Dealing with reporters was more harrowing than she had ever imagined. Now was the moment of truth. She pulled out a handful of tiny devices, each shaped like a disc and the size of her thumb, and got to work applying them to a wall.

They were arranged in an ovular shape long enough to compensate most men that she knew back home in Arizona, if this indeed worked like a doorway like Mortar Mage said it would.

She activated the two-way earphone she was wearing, and spoke, “Knock-knock, come on in.”

A second later, she heard Mortar’s voice through the earpiece, “Roger that. Stand clear, and thanks for the invite.”

The wall between the discs glowed a number of colors including silver and violet. Adamast Cross and Ohm Wire stepped through the wall, challenging everything that Jackie believed for the majority of her life. The glowing stopped, but Diamond Grace was assured that they could contact the outside world at any time as long as the discs were in place.

“Is this everyone?” she asked.

Walter’s voice answered through the earpiece, “Mortar and I are monitoring the situation from here. Everyone else is asleep or at work. That just leaves the three of you, ladies.”

“Ohm Wire’s visor can record video for us,” explained Mortar. “However, these broadcasts will push the amount of power that this connection takes, so we’ll have to keep it down until you spot something for us to analyze. The last thing we need is to create an unstable rift in the middle of a power plant that is already suffering mysterious issues.”

“This thing could do that?” the new heroine inquired.

“It shouldn’t, given the calculations I made and doubled down on, but I’m obligated to list potential warnings or concerns ever since a few harmless incidents.”

“Harmless incidents. Really?”

With a ring of the doorbell, Walter entered the foyer to open the front entrance. He had asked Warren about having a butler or maid around for things like this, given only the size of the house, but Warren told him that the place was already . . . crowded, for a lack of a better word.

He grasped the knob, twisted, and pulled it back. Walter was greeted by a woman’s backside as she began to tug on a trunk twice her size.

“Long time no see, Walter,” said Mai. She stopped a moment so that she and Walter could exchange casual pecks on each cheek. “I was starting to wonder if I’d ever catch you.”

“Yes, I heard that you were storing some things in the attic. Cleaning house?”

“I’m selling it. It’s been years since . . . you know, and I need to move on. It’s amazing that I haven’t set fire to the place yet. This morning, I was vacuuming my daughter’s room when I ended up staring at the poster on her wall for a half hour, reminiscing about the past. So, that’s going up with the rest of our collection of hero memorabilia at least until I’ve settled into my new place. I had thought about a storage unit, but that’s asking for trouble in a city like ours.”

“Right, I suppose it’s hard to sell a house when you’re staring at a single wall the entire time. Harder still when Judy provided us all with so many memories. Listen, we’re actually in the middle of something big right now, but if you want I can help you get your things up the stairs.”

“I think I can manage,” Mai said, still moving with her trunk in hand.

“Are you sure?”

“I only packed what I could carry.”

Never mind the fact that the trunk looked like it would still have been heavy if it was empty. What did Mai have in there, one of Warren’s gravity reduction devices?

Walter said, “Well, let me know if you change your mind, or if you just want a cup of coffee or tea. By all means, drop by to say hi. I’m sure everyone would like that.”

He left her for the kitchen to grab a cup for himself. It was going to be a while before Walter had the chance to sleep. Maybe he should pick up power naps like Jeff. No, he had no idea how his friend had managed it so well for so long, and Walter wasn’t about to try it.

Dear, oh dear.

“There doesn’t appear to be anyone in here,” said Diamond Grace. She walked with the others toward the middle, but what they were could hardly be called a line. They ventured closer and closer to the plant’s reactor, but there was no sign of life.

Not even a decorative plant, or a cockroach.

Ohm Wire said, “My visor’s only picking up heightened amounts of radiation.”

“Only?” said Adamast Cross.

“It’s not lethal if we don’t stay here long. At least, that’s what my informant tells me.”

“Your informant is contacting you through your visor?”

“It’s either that or my phone. Somehow, I don’t think we’d get good service in here.”

The two siblings glanced and nodded at one another, and the trek continued down the corridors. It took a little more than five minutes before they reached the door to the reactor. The door was ajar.

“Ohm Wire?” said Adamast Cross.

“It’s the same.” Ohm Wire didn’t sound too sure of herself, or maybe she was confused. “The readings in there are just like the corridors we’ve been walking in. Something else, too.”

“Something else?” asked Mortar over their earpieces. “What do you mean? Oh. Oh wow, that’s interesting. They’re all the wrong kind of waves. So that means the radiation in there isn’t coming from the reactor. Tell your informant they have a good eye.”

“She says thanks, Mortar. Will this radiation hurt us?”

“If you’re out of there in the next ten minutes, and someone treats you with some basic medicine, then you won’t suffer long-term effects. Still, be careful.”

Adamast pinched her brow then. “She’s already gone in. Well, I guess we better fo—“

Ohm Wire shrieked. In a panic, Adamast Cross ran in after her, and then Diamond Grace followed. Diamond Grace wasted no time spotting the source of the other heroine’s reaction. There was a flaming, glowing, skeletal figure melded with the reactor.

The figure moved his head, and spoke: “It’s been a while, Ohm Wire. I see you’ve brought some friends.”

“Who is this?” Diamond Grace asked.

“The name, young lady, is Ghost Fracture. I was the leader of Nightmare’s Militia, or Soldiers; it was all the same. Ohm Wire here was one of my brightest recruits. Oh, we had such fun doing what was right in the islands forgotten by law. Didn’t we?”

“And now look at you. Payment for a sinner?” After Diamond Grace said that, her sister muttered her name. Her first name, in front of this villain!

“Something like that. I suppose this was a long time coming before I was caught and punished for breaking away. They don’t forgive runaways, even ones like me who were supposed to have died. Especially when we cause trouble for their return.”

“Whose return?” asked Ohm Wire.

Mortar Mage watched the computer screen intently with Walter looking over his shoulder. He had the next computer console digging up everything it could on Ghost Fracture and Nightmare’s Militia. He was sure he’d heard a good deal about them before, but references for himself and others never hurt.

Ohm Wire asked, “Whose return?”

Ghost Fracture said, “The Vanquishiri Bahitians.”

“No. No, no, no.” Mortar repeated himself with growing fear and fury. It wasn’t possible.

“They’re raising soldiers from your dead, using only the parts they can salvage from one of their rituals. I rejected their first ritual to have one of them inside me, and my soul survived. Then they used a second to torture my soul and strip me of all bindings to my flesh so that I might become one of their soldiers. I got away because I was one of the lucky ones. I was the only lucky one. Imagine what they’ll do to every person who came here before you.”

“No!” Mortar slid everything off of one table in a rage. “You tell him that’s impossible. You tell that man we couldn’t be standing if it was.” He barely heard, and promptly ignored, Walter whispering his name.

“So then they found me. Made an example of me so they could lure their victims. They are here, and we can do nothing other than hope our deaths will be the end.”

“Tell him!”

“Calm down, Mortar.” Walter rested a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down.”

Mortar Mage shoved the hand away, and stormed out of the mansion. He had to go somewhere. He had to be sure.

Ohm Wire rubbed her ear after all of the shouting.

Adamast Cross said, “So, how do we undo all of this? How do we save you and fix the plant’s reactor?”

“You don’t.” Ghost Fracture was nothing if not frank, and maybe a little creepy.

“See, that’s not going to work for us. We need to save the world. It’s kinda what we do.”

“Then save it. But, in order to do so, you will have to finish me. Then, and only then, will your city stand a chance to live another day.”

Everyone moved uneasily who was able to move. Not only was killing difficult, but it was considered a major violation of being a hero. There was no news media recording this, unless the mysterious hacker was accounted for, but that didn’t make the idea of taking a life seem any less wrong.

Diamond Grace said, “You understand what you’re asking, right?”

Ghost Fracture responded, “This is coming from a woman who came here to die herself. Oh, they know about you, and they expect you to run because they don’t care, or that you'll fall into their trap as you flee. They think themselves so high and mighty because they can sense people, and one of them even sees so far ahead. They think they have everything they need now, but they did not count on one thing. You have allies, dangerous ones who are difficult to predict. To me, this means they’ve already lost, but you must shut this core down and let me go.”

“God has a plan for us all. A time and place.”

“I no longer remember when my time was. It came, it went, and here I am ages later.”

“If I may interrupt,” said a woman’s voice over the earpiece.

“Who’s this?” Ohm Wire asked into it, even holding her ear and turning her head so that Ghost Fracture could see that she wasn’t talking to him.

“This is someone who knows a thing or two about taking a life, except, in my case it was out of bitter rage. For you, it will be like pulling the plug on someone who died already. I know it’s not much easier, but please, for the sake of the city and the millions of lives in it, do what he asks. Let a troubled man rest.”

“What about the heroes’ taboo?”

“It was put in place so we wouldn’t get carried away like I did six years ago, to keep us from turning villainous. It was put in place to protect people who only think in terms of black and white. This is one exception to the rule, as terrible as it might be. I would not wish this decision on anyone, but it stands before you. To this day I do not know if I’d have chosen any different.”

“It’s you, isn’t it? You’re Sw—“

“I’ve said too much already. Thank you for listening to me. Good bye, and good luck.”

Ohm Wire was stunned. A hero thought to have been long gone was on their frequency just as sure as there was a hacker on Ohm Wire’s visor. Were the hero and hacker the same person, or was the League just vulnerable? It raised too many questions for her to begin to tackle.

Meanwhile, Ghost Fracture continued to hover inside of the reactor’s edge. Ohm Wire and Adamast each took a number of lives in the past that the news media and law authorities never learned about, but circumstances were different then. They had no control over what they were doing. And the man who helped Ohm Wire start her career was suffering, primed to become unstable at any moment and blow a hole where the city now stood.

“How do we turn this thing off? How do we put you to rest?” Ohm Wire spoke with more calm than she ever knew she had in her.

Diamond Grace held onto her ice armor and grasped the handle on one of two levers. Her sister took the other, and Ohm Wire positioned herself near the turbines that siphoned the energy from the reactor.

“Ready when you are,” said Ohm Wire.

“On my mark,” Adamast said, more grim than Jackie had ever known her sibling to be. She wasn’t frightened, not angry – just carrying a heavy weight like it needed to be done and she was the person for the job.

Oh, dear sister, what demons have you faced?

“. . . Two . . . Three!” The siblings pushed against their respective levers, though Adamast Cross started first.

The lever resisted and vibrated as Diamond Grace pushed it, inch by inch, toward the ground. Flashes of light accompanied crashing sounds, and she saw waves of electricity flow through Ohm Wire. The turbines were discharging energy like Ghost Fracture said would happen even though they were shutting it down.

She kept pushing, feeling like the lever’s reach went far longer than it really did. She knew there was only another foot to go, but it might as well have been the full length of the room they were in.

But then that foot became inches, and inches became a finger’s width. Finally, the lever clicked into place.

Ohm Wire yelled and glowed from the sheer amount of energy she had in her. Adamast started toward her, but Ohm Wire held out a hand to stop her. Then the younger heroine ran out of the room.

Seconds later, Diamond Grace heard an explosion that sounded like an entire room made from glass had shattered in an instant.

Mai stood outside the door with her hand over her mouth. She was fighting her eyes’ urge to flood the hallway already, but hearing Adamast Cross and Walter shouting Ohm Wire’s moniker struck her in the chest.

She hoped against whatever odds there were. Ohm Wire was as old as her daughter would have been, and was a nice girl from what Mai could tell.

“I’m alright,” Ohm Wire’s voice struggled. “I had to find somewhere safe to release that energy.”

“Don’t worry me like that!” Adamast said, tears weighing down on her voice.

“We’re heroes, love. I can’t make any promises.”

Mai walked away then. She held her tears until she was in her car. Mai realized she would sob the entire drive home, but she didn’t care. She had already seen and heard too much to care.

-------------
Chapter 04
-------------

Mortar Mage ran into the lab as fast as he could. Someone with both teleportation and super speed couldn’t move fast enough, he thought. If what he feared most was true then there was never such a thing as fast enough.

One of the lab’s rooms was a holding area for a series of freezing tubes. Mortar saw that the tanks were in one piece, and that they continued to hold all of the androids within them, one in each corner of the room. He let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“The world lives another day,” he said. His hand rested on one of the tanks – the only one with a female android. “One more day.”

Kyra examined her visor while she say on the couch back at the mansion. “This thing is so fried. I think I’m going to need a new one now. That earpiece is gone too.”

The voice-type registered on her phone, which sat by her lap, and barely a moment passed before her informant sent a response.

“Understood. Be careful in the future.”

That was when Jackie and Mary walked into the room. Mary said, “Are you sure you won’t stay a while? I know we haven’t been the best siblings in the past, but it’s actually good to see you.”

Jackie shook her head with a faint smile. “I need some time to myself to think. I might stay in town for a couple days or more depending on how I feel, but this is your gig. Your life and burden.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t put it that way.”

“I know. Do me a favor? Find yourself a good man.”

Kyra had been telling her the same thing lately, but Maryann insisted on staying only with her, and then whining on a couple nights when Kyra was the only one to finish. Kyra loved Mary, but her girlfriend needed something that Kyra couldn’t give her, even with the toys that she refused to use on her lover.

Still, Jackie had some serious gall saying such a thing in front of her.

“I can’t do that,” said Mary. “I love Kyra.”

“You mean to tell me you don’t want to settle down and raise a family someday?” asked Jackie.

“I mean, um . . .”

“Or to feel the warm embrace of a man every morning?”

If Mary were any redder, Kyra would have sworn that her lover had turned back into a succubus. She was kind of cute when she was speechless.

Finally, Kyra cleared her throat and gave Jackie a stern look.

“She does love you,” said Jackie. “It’s not what I would have pictured, but don’t you dare lose her.” She glanced back and forth between Kyra and Mary. “Either of you. Things really are different now, aren’t they?”

“More than I can say,” said Mary.

“Well then, sister, take care of yourself. You know how to find me until I leave town.”

“And you know how to reach me after that.”

Jackie hugged Mary first, then stood over Kyra for a moment with one eye examining Kyra like some misbehaved puppy. Without warning, Jackie knelt down and hugged Kyra.

“You want her to do it as much as I do, don’t you?” Jackie whispered.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” replied Kyra.

Jackie whispered one more thing more silently into Kyra’s ear, then stood up and said “Family weakness” all the while rubbing Kyra’s scalp with one hand. Kyra was too surprised and bewildered at the idea of every woman in Mary’s family having the same sensitive, vulnerable g-spot, or that Jackie would share it so candidly, to notice the woman leaving.

“What?” Kyra asked to an emptying room.

At some point, Warren entered the room, and it looked like Walter was about to give him some harsh words of his own.

Kyra, however, said to Warren, “Dude, what . . . the fuck?”

“Look, I’m sorry for throwing a fit and running off like that.” Warren was trying to explain calmly without giving too much away. Who would believe him if he told the entire truth? “Ghost Fracture said something impossible, and I freaked.”

Walter said, “The Vanquished something or other?”

“The Vanquishiri Bahitians. Gods, dangerous ones, outlawed by their own pantheons. They were responsible for many massacres, including one that should have destroyed the Earth. You won’t find any record of them. Not here.”

“You know about them.”

“Because . . . It’s because I . . . Damn it, does no one believe me?”

Maryann said, “We’re listening, Warren, but I don’t think you’re telling us everything. It’s hard to believe someone who’s holding back on the truth. Is this something you heard growing up in foster care?”

“No.”

“Is it something written by one of your journal’s authors?”

“Of course not. Mary, please stop. It’s hard enough even saying what I have. I heard this from my father.”

The few Leaguers present said nothing for a time. It was clear that Walter, Mary and Kyra were processing what Warren just told them.

Since the League reunited a few months ago, Warren only ever mentioned once that he met his parents, and even then with only a couple people in the room. It was all part of a longer tale no one would believe, so he acquiesced to running a major publication, putting together gadgets that outranked anything on the market, and saving lives.

“Your father,” Mary repeated. “You told me long ago you never met the man, and didn’t feel the need to find him. I think, maybe, you mentioned meeting him once in a sleep deprived craze.”

After a wince, Warren explained, “I met him about a year after we all split up. Him and my mother both. They were looking for me, hoping I was safe, curious to see how bright I was or how I was getting along in life, wanting so much to undo the fact that they gave me up. But they had to. There was a war going on, and that was no place to raise a child. Especially not a quarter god like me.”

“We’re not laughing.”

“I’m not joking! Or gloating about my ability. My father is a demigod, and my mother is a stubborn, mortal woman from the Victorian Era. The flow of time means so little in that place, the eternal realm, but no one there tampers with it here. There’d be consequences if they did.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” said Kyra. “We have gods and demigods here, or at least people claiming to be that way.”

“Some of them might very well be related. Immortality’s a trick from their own anti-flow of time. Their powers are matched by our own, though some are definitely stronger than we are. They still breathe, bleed, and die like any human being under ‘normal’ circumstances.”

“These Vanquishiri you spoke of, what about them?”

“If my father was correct, then every last one was either cast into the end of the universe or sentenced to countless eternities in imprisonment, but even he suspected that a few got away somehow. He couldn’t prove it, so he said nothing for certain, being the scientist that he is.”

Walter said, “We should speak with him.”

“Ah, we can’t. My folks are on the other side along with the vast majority of gods and goddesses still duking it out. We’d have to open the seal that separates us, and that would be catastrophic. This entire planet would turn to oblivion, and it would cause a chain reaction with the rest of our universe, as well as theirs.”

“So, there’s no proof.”

“There is. Do you know that crater north of Siren’s Gauntlet at the edge of city limits? That isn’t a crater. Not exactly.”

“A bite in the ground?” inquired Devon, who was interviewing a man that had surveyed the mysterious crater. It had taken a long time to track this man down.

The two of them stood around a cluttered table beneath the only light in the room. The windows were covered up for more privacy and darkness than the blinds provided.

The geologist said, “Yes, something like a bite. Look here at these papers. Here, at a crater, mass is moved in a number of directions because of the force of impact. This bite mark, however, is more like something chewed into our world, and took off with the mass into the unknown before it could take another. We were about to investigate further when we ran out of funding all out of nowhere. Then the others turned up dead or missing like one of those bizarre, fictional mysteries with the cover-ups.”

“Like a conspiracy, you mean.”

“Yes, that’s it.”

This, on one hand, made Devon think the man was a bit of a quack. However, he then thought about that letter he had received.

He then asked, “Do the initials W and M mean anything to you?”

Everyone nodded at Warren like some sort of madman. Warren said, “I knew it. This is why I didn’t tell you guys anything since we reunited.”

Walter said, “Look , Warren . . . Mortar . . . we might not be sure if we believe you. You haven’t exactly been one to lie to us in the past. For that matter, you’re not known for emotional outbursts like we saw or heard this morning. I just want to be sure you’ll have it under control in the future.”

“You have my word.”

“Good, because I think it’s lunch time.”

“I’m buying.”

“As long as you didn’t build it, I think my intestines can manage.”

Their laughter was short-lived when there was a knock on the nearby window. Warren barely recognized the man flying diagonally outside of the second story window.

“Hey, are we deciding on lunch now? I’m hungry.” Trash Knuckle, of course.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be of any more help,” said the geologist.

“That’s alright,” replied Devon. “I’m closer to the truth now than I ever really thought possible. I just wish I knew who this person was that contacted me.”

A new man stepped into the light with heavy footsteps. He was dressed like a ranking soldier from ancient Rome, and his build and posture only made him look more serious rather than some joke cosplayer. Upon seeing him, however, Devon whipped his head around, looking for possible points of entry amidst the shadows.

There were none.

“Perhaps I can help,” said the alleged Roman.

“Who is this?” questioned the geologist, reaching into the drawer beneath the table. “How did you get in here? Have you come for me like you did the others?”

“Now, now, is this any way to treat a guest? Your lack of clout is the only reason you live.”

The geologist had a pistol, and he wasted no time firing it. The gun was emptied, and the soldier stood there shocked. Then he choked.

“I don’t believe it,” said the soldier. “Someone still has one of those revolvers lying around.” Now he was brushing off the bullets that crushed against his armor and skin. “What is this, the dark ages? Wait, no, I enjoyed the dark ages. It’s really too bad you’ve decided to die. Our mercy only goes so far.”

With more agility than Devon was capable of, the soldier lashed out and snapped the geologist’s neck in a single motion. The soldier dropped the limp body from his hand, and turned his gaze toward Devon, who was backing away and searching frantically for the door by patting down the wall.

“It would appear that you are looking for answers.” The soldier grinned.

“Go ahead. Kill me then. Surely someone else will find out the truth.”

“You are not a fighter. Besides, we’re not interested in covering up the truth. Not from you pitiful mortal, anyway. Come. It is time you learned more than any mortal has the right to know. If you still want the truth of what happened after that, then you can have it and die when the time comes. Or, if you wish, I can kill you right here and be on my way. It won’t matter to us in the end. What will be, death now or death later?”

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

Takeout boxes stuffed with Thai food caked the tables on either side of the room. Warren alternated between eating his food and examining the bracelet that Trash Knuckle handed him. It was golden with a set of green jewels embedded in it. Their strange had ally found it while raiding one of the last pocket dimensions belonging to a band of evil mystics, which was now powerless. It was strange that they would have had this.

“You said this turns you into a beautiful woman?” Warren asked.

“That’s what it did when I put it on. What? What else was I going to do with a nice trinket that I found lying around?” The big man, often regarded by law and media alike as a villain, was as unapologetic as ever.

“Well, thanks for handing it over. It’s good to know you have the good sense not to just run off with it.”

“I only returned it because I didn’t want it. Besides, I almost ran off to join those Arachne twerps, but those guys were pathetic.”

Mary spoke with a dry tone, “I had a feeling that was your work. Something about the barely conscious ones crying about a bad odor.” She paused for a beat. “Wait a minute, how did you even get so close without your stink aura? You didn’t completely fall for them like you did for us, did you?”

Trash Knuckle laughed. “Funny thing about that, I don’t really know. I put that thing on, and suddenly people wanted to be close to me.”

“Plays with all of the senses,” Warren murmured, “or possibly abilities. I have some ideas for this thing, but I need to run some tests. Would you be interested in helping out with that?”

“Sorry, but Trash Knuckle doesn’t work very well with the science stuff. The last time I tried an experiment, my high school burned to the ground in the middle of a snowy winter. North Dakota still doesn’t want me coming back. Not that that stopped me when I found another of those crazy realms belonging to the Circle’s demons. I took some pictures of me busting some heads and wrecking that odd structure of theirs if you want to see them.”

“That’s quite alright. At least we know that the Circle won’t be causing too much trouble any time soon.”

Four months ago, the League and Trash Knuckle had faced a massive force consisting of mages, demons, and evil spirits. They won because they took out an arch demon as well as a temple that acted as the generator for evil spirits. It sounded to Warren like Trash Knuckle had found another of those temples and obliterated it on his own.

Trash Knuckle was often called a villain, but the worst he had ever done was pick fights with numerous heroes and villains, and cause more in property damage than the average villain. The guy had even picked a fight with Captain Patriot once, and hearing Trash Knuckle’s side of the story was exhausting. Still, the League did try to keep their distance when possible, including sending Trash Knuckle out to take down bad guys and making it sound like an opportunity for the man to throw a party.

Sooner or later, they were going to run out of targets and excuses.

“I like you guys, but I’m actually thinking of moving to another country.” Or Trash Knuckle could give everyone a surprising left hook.

In another example of the universe’s love for great timing, Warren heard a ring coming from Mary’s phone. She had just received a text message, and Mary went to see who it was. She rolled her eyes at the message, and returned to her seat next to Kyra.

“Who was it?” asked Kyra.

“Oh, just a friend,” Mary responded.

“You have friends outside of the League?”

“Besides a couple of our mothers, your own included? Not many, apparently.”

Trash Knuckle crammed a container’s worth of food into his mouth before belching, and he said, “It’s time to go. Thanks for the food. Let me know if you want to party sometime in the next couple weeks.”

He left out the window, and flew off. Meanwhile, the ladies were still enjoying an inane conversation about their contact lists.

“Go on, tell me who your mystery friend is.”

“You first.”

“Come on.”

“No you.”

Warren swallowed his current bite of food, and said, “Computer, how is that wall project doing?”

“Project thirty-seven, project forty-two, or project one hundred. Eighteen?”

“The sound barrier one.”

“Project thirty-seven is 100% collected. And. 0% constructed.”

“Excuse me, everyone, I have some work to do.”

“Whatever happened to that one hero you kept running into a while back?”

“Stop it.”

“Saelum Blaster? Ha, you’re blushing!”

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

"What couch?"

Hockey masks with bird feathers sticking out of the sides. That had to be a new one, as far as Adamast could tell.

There was a group of shoplifters and burglars working one street at night. Saelum Blaster had been doing his detective work, and waited for the criminals to strike here tonight. Adamast Cross came along by invitation.

Both heroes flanked the burglars who were outside. At the first shop she passed, Adamast stomped on the main entrance using her ice powers, and it created a blockade to stop the one man still inside. This allowed her to swing a good number of punches and kicks into the outdoor crowd of bad guys without anyone getting away.

At the second shop, she was faced with a big guy who looked like tonight was the only exercise he got all year. Adamast would have felt sorry for him if not for his poor life choices. Also unlucky for the big guy: Adamast had super strength to go with her ice powers. This was just the first time she used it all evening.

She picked up the big guy, and then hurled him at the duo of gun-wielding crooks aiming at Saelum from behind.

Saelum and Adamast met halfway, and tucked into the alley once they saw that the bad guys were all unconscious. Then they kissed passionately, Adamast wrapping one leg up against Saelum’s side.

“Hi,” she said to him with much of her breath stolen just now. “Whoa, and hello to you too.”

The man’s bulge was daring, tonight. Saelum said, “I want you.”

“I know you do, but you know I can’t. Even that kiss, we’re not supposed to get this far.”

“These mixed signals can drive a guy mad, you know. You say you can’t, but you’re still all over me.”

Adamast got back down to both feet on the ground. Reluctantly! She had been trying to keep their friendship as just that for a few months, and it fondled fate every time they were together like this. So then she lifted up on her toes and kissed Saelum on the cheek like she had originally intended.

“How’s that for mixed signals?” she asked.

“How’s a loaf of bread in a bakery?” he quipped back.

“Now that you mention it, I could go for a cinnamon roll and some tea.”

“There’s no hope for you.”

“Says a man who knows my history and still wants me.” She smirked at him, then turned her head when the familiar red and blue lights came. The police finally arrived. “Come on, let’s go grab something to eat and drink.”

“Can I have a moment to let this thing die down a bit?”

“Spandex, dude!”

Sometimes they went out for a drink together. Ohm Wire once or twice called them lame, jokingly, for loving tea as much as they did. Adamast offered to introduce her to some of her favorite brews sometime, but she declined.

“So you never told me where you work,” Saelum said while they sat in a corner of the Escapist. Barely anyone else was in the establishment, and the few that were were other heroes minding their own business at the moment.

Adamast finished swallowing some tea, and considered stuffing her mouth with more food to put off answering for a moment. “We’re still in costume, and in public.”

“I doubt anyone’s listening, given where we are.” He indicated with one hand the corner of the establishment at which they sat, and the few other people present were far enough away to require listening devices or super hearing.

“Famous last words. The next thing you know, some space pirate rocking a cybernetic parrot, with the manliest beard ever of its own, uses the information to brainwash little children into eating sugar-glazed kale for breakfast, and the parents are so confused they gladly turn over the world, forcing us to listen to the worst music artists to come down from another planet’s Canada. Then we’re unable to do anything about it but quip endlessly about who used the last of the toilet paper until the end of time.”

“OK, 'What?' and secondly, I’m pretty sure at least one of our Canadian ‘singers’ already came from another world.”

“Yeah, you might be right about her.” Adamast brought the tea cup up to her lips.

“I work at Founder’s Creek Intermediate.”

Cue the spit-take; poor Saelum. Adamast handed him some napkins, and said, “I’m sorry. I work at Steel Canyon as one of the gym teachers.”

“How did I miss that?” Saelum continued to look amused by her while he wiped the tea from his face.

“Which subject do you teach?”

“A man’s got to keep some secrets. Besides, this means a certain someone with the last name of Curry could receive some flowers from a secret admirer.”

“Nice detective work, Mr. Sullivan.” Her saying that certainly surprised him. Adamast held up her head with her palm, her elbow based on the remarkably sturdy table that she swore was smaller than her skirt.

“You found that out. And said it in public.”

“It’s a good thing only heroes come in here, and this place is nearly empty.”

Saelum’s face contorted with some level of thought. “Touché!” He slouched back in his seat while Adamast ate her roll. It took a moment for him to say anything again. “I teach basic levels of French and Spanish. It’s a fun gig, even if I rarely see the same students both semesters, and none of them really signed up for it.”

“Note to self: send sexy French maid who speaks nothing but Spanish.”

“Hey.”

“Sorry, old habit. Working with the League doesn’t help.”

“How did you join them, anyways?”

“I auditioned for it six years ago, the middle of next month. I thought it was odd that someone would put up paper flyers around town advertising openings for a super group, so I figured, ‘What the heck?’ I almost didn’t make it on time. A villain hijacked a school bus full of children, and I had to take care of it instead of going straight to the auditions between classes.”

“You couldn’t skip class?”

“It was my last year of college. I figured it was bad enough that I was taking time off of studying to save lives around the city.”

“You graduated college at the age of twenty?”

“Bachelor’s and all.”

“Impressive. Now you’re in charge of a bunch of kids’ physical education.”

“Among other things. I’m so glad we’re still on Summer break right now, because next week I’m going to be exhausted. So, what about you? When did you start doing the hero thing?”

“Over a year ago. I had a student whom I kept having to confiscate comics from, so I looked at them and thought, ‘Why not?’”

“Your student never suspected anything?”

“The kid is now my arch nemesis with a volcanic lair on the moon and a death ray aimed at my house if I fail any of his friends in class, or forget to feed his fifty foot hamster with a peg leg.” His eyes were rolled back, and his tone was dry.

But it was the pure absurdity that made Adamast laugh.

Sensual moans and other sounds echoed through the hallway, which seemed to tilt one way or the other with every step Mary took toward her room. She heard a man and a woman beyond her own door, and feared what she might find when she opened it.

Yet, it had to be done, and she turned the knob without another thought. The man grunted then. Mary recognized him right when his grunting became a scream, and his body began to deteriorate beneath the other woman. The man who looked like Saelum was gone, dust, and the other woman turned her wicked stare toward Maryann.

She had horns and ashen hair, but her features were otherwise similar to Mary’s. She knew this woman.

“Hello, Maryann,” said the succubus.

Fear hit Mary so hard that she sat up in a sweat. Suddenly, she was in her bed, awake after a bad dream. Mary bent and hugged her legs, and heaved into them before looking over at Kyra, who was asleep and had her back turned tonight.

Mary loved Kyra too much, and hoped she would never lose her. Damn her confused feelings, and damn the amount of teasing Kyra did with her lately.

She lied back down on her side. Mary kissed her girlfriend on the neck, laying an arm over Kyra’s side.

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

“Hey, Walter, you got a minute?” War Lagoon stood on a rooftop with a pair of night vision binoculars at his eyes, and one leg leaning on the raised ledge.

Walter’s voice came through the earpiece. “Sure, buddy, what’s up? You’re not planning to leave town, are you?”

“No, why would you think I am?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’ve just been hearing from a lot of people lately who say they’re leaving Paragon soon. All of them in the last five days.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that. I was actually going to ask you if you were going to attend that Event charity on Friday. That’s all.”

“That’s coming up already? I must be losing track of time or something. And, to answer your question, I haven’t decided yet. I just heard that Mr. Reynolds will be there, so who knows? Maybe it’ll be interesting, maybe it won’t. I know Warren said he won’t be going because he’ll be too busy trying to get some of his major projects up and running. Still, though, it would be nice to settle the bet that he and I have.”

“What bet would that be?”

“Whether or not Mr. Reynolds is actually a hero. Not to get into specifics, but I’ve been telling Warren he’s wrong for the last few months. The loser pays a hundred dollars.”

“You’re both insane. There’s no way I’m risking a hundred dollars to prove something that’s none of my business. Wait, hold on, what do we have here?”

War Lagoon spotted a villain appearing atop a police station. This villain was high on the wanted list, and it was known that a couple of his buddies were being held at a couple different police stations.

“Walter, if you don’t hear from me in the next half hour, let everyone know I found Mega Tone.”

“And if I do hear back from you?” Walter asked.

“Then you can tell them I beat Mega Tone, and went to grab some breakfast before heading back to bed. Over and out.”

He put away the binoculars, and flew toward the villain, who had just punched a hole in the station’s rooftop using nothing more than concentrated sound waves.

Mega Tone spotted him, and unleashed sonic waves toward the incoming War Lagoon. The hero barely noticed this in time to open a dark hole in the air between himself and the sonic waves. The waves howled as they entered the hole, and the hole shook like it could barely contain the force of the attack.

The dark hole vanished on command, and War Lagoon could see the villain again, who looked as if he were stunned by something that hit him. That was good; it meant the second hole opened just fine behind Mega Tone and sent his own attack back at him.

War Lagoon continued to fly toward the villain. This time, now that he was close enough and the other man was recovering from hitting himself, War Lagoon fired off several short blasts of shadow energy through his fists. A good number of blasts hit Mega Tone before the villain came to his senses and brought up a forcefield of sound waves.

Ceasing his ranged attack of choice, War Lagoon settled for landing on the same roof as the villain remained standing.

“This doesn’t concern you,” said Mega Tone.

“It never does, but I also can’t have you causing any more trouble.” War Lagoon was often regarded as the most stern of the Dallevan League’s members, and those words were no exception to his reputation.

“Then I have no choice but to kill you.”

War Lagoon lifted his arms like he was picking up something of considerable weight. Then, a dark portal opened beneath Mega Tone, and equally murky tentacles shot up through it to bind the villain.

Mega Tone swiped and screamed at the vines, but half of them still grabbed him by the arms and legs. The villain tried one more time to hit War Lagoon with supersonic waves, but one tentacle caught him like a fish hook. Mega Tone was pulled back onto the roof where he was too bound to move, and positioned in such a way that his powers could not hurt anything that wasn’t directly above him.

The police officers arrived then, and they cuffed the villain with power suppressors. The two who went in did so carefully, uncertain if the shadow tentacles would affect them as well, but War Lagoon and an older officer assured them that they were safe.

When it was done, War Lagoon flew off.

It was dawn, and he needed to take one of his power naps after breakfast was done. Just another Wednesday morning, he thought.

Then he spotted her. A woman half as dark-skinned as War Lagoon stood on top of a shorter building in the Talos district, compared to the skyscrapers. Her hair and ankle-length dress blew in the light wind. War Lagoon saw her smiling glare a split second before she turned into a silhouette and then vanished completely.

“OK . . .” said War Lagoon. “Walter, I have good news and bad news.”

Walter spoke with his usual accepting voice, “Oh good, we’re always shopping for more bad news these days.”

“Mega Tone is down, that’s the good news. But, just now, I saw someone I never thought we’d see again.”

“Who might that be?”

“Do you remember that woman we met at the end of our first night as a task force?”

“Oh yes, the alleged medium.”

“Yes, her. I’m hoping it’s just nothing or some pure coincidence, but we both know how I feel about coincidences. Otherwise, this could be a bad sign of things to come.”

“Dear, oh dear. So now what?”

“Now, I’m going to go home to sleep for the next couple hours. I have to meet a new client at work today, so we’ll talk later. If she turns up, you can let me know.”

“You got it. Sleep well, and good morning.”

Devon was shoved upon entry to the underground temple somewhere in the northeastern outskirts of Paragon City. All around him, he saw rows of slouching people who all wore black skintight outfits and light-colored tiki masks.

He heard a thud beside him, and knew that it was the body of the dead geologist.

Another man appeared, dressed almost normal. He asked, “Nervaeus, what is the meaning of this?”

“I need not answer to you, Cingeteyrn,” said the overpowered soldier. “Where is she?”

“She does not wish to be disturbed.”

“She loathes the fools she surrounds herself with,” said a raspy-yet-feminine voice from somewhere out of Devon’s sight. Everyone looked toward the top of the temple, and a robed, bent figure appeared there. “It would appear you’ve brought company. And a living guest. Just when I got done examining the new body.”

“Does that mean you approve of the girl I found?”

“Yes. For once, you’ve proven yourself useful, Cingeteyrn.”

She defied her frail body, and glided down the steps on one side of the temple. The woman first examined the dead geologist for a moment. Then she kicked the body toward the bizarrely dressed minions, followed by pointing and grunting toward the body. The minions carried the body away as if they understood that.

“Foot soldiers,” she said, “so useful when you say so little to them. Now, for you, mortal. Tell me, would you believe this body belonged to a woman in her thirties some five years ago?”

The woman pulled down her hood, revealing a few strands of gray hair, which was the only hair she had. Her body was wilted worse than someone who spent a hundred and twenty years smoking.

“I honestly don’t know what to believe,” Devon said.

“A fair answer,” said the woman. “These bodies are lasting less and less because I can never seem to find one that is compatible. But, that has changed. Tomorrow night, everything will be ready, and this body you see before you will be replaced. Finally, I shall have beauty to go with my boundless knowledge, and it will last longer than you could ever dream to.”

“Why am I even here?”

“You are a seeker of knowledge, are you not? Yes, those men and women we took were as well, but we needed them for our other purposes at the time. You? Your quest to know the truth will be our platform from which we shall rise again in the world, and spread discord across this forsaken plane. Now, what is it you seek? What truth do you wish to uncover?”

“The same as those scientists, I think.”

“Oh no. See, they sought paychecks and answers regarding what caused a single crater. A match can cause a scorch mark, and they sought the head of the match. You seek the one who held it as it burned. You seek to know why it was held there, because somehow nobody remembers the arsonist who was taken away in plain sight. Does that sound about right?”

“That’s exactly right. How much do you know?”

“It is a gap in my knowledge. I do not like such gaps. But I know how to find the answer. After tomorrow night, I will help you so we will both know. Until then, you are our guest. You will be treated as such, only without the ability to leave. If you should try anything, though, then you're dead with nothing learned, nothing gained.”

“Lady, you are the closest I’ve been to knowing something far greater than myself. I’m not going anywhere.”

“We already are greater than you. And my name . . . is Vidnyanta.”

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

Adamast Cross reached the Peregrine Beach district for the umpteenth time in her life. Every time she came here now, she thought someone else from her love life, past or present, was going to show up and complicate things.

She stopped short of the police barricade ahead. Did she really just include Saelum Blaster when thinking about her love life?

Shaking her head at herself, Adamast slipped under the yellow tape and was greeted by a few officers on her way to the house they were guarding. The houses in the Peregrine area were stacked side by side, so it was more like the police were guarding a flight of steps going up to their waists, and the door atop it. Some officers were likely behind this residence as well.

The inside of the house had little illumination, with or without the portable lights that the police and one of the other heroes brought in. The windows were boarded off from the inside, so the sun was hardly coming through. Two male heroes were standing by a cluttered table and a gun that had fallen on the floor, one of the better lit spaces in the house.

One of them, with crazy, white hair and goggles to go along with his one cybernetic arm and one biological arm, looked Adamast Cross’s way. He waved with his human hand, his left one. His other one had a thin monitor sticking out of its underside.

“Hey, look who it is!” exclaimed Dock.

His buddy, and practical partner in crime, Bucht, faced Adamast with a snide expression at first that turned into a grin. “Well, well.”

“What brings you around here? We haven't seen you since before your transformation.”

Adamast Cross said, “Oh, you know. I was just in the area after Mortar handed me something of his and said that you two might be around. When I saw the barricade outside, I had a feeling that this is where I’d find you two.”

“Mortar sent you this way? Too bad he didn’t come as well.”

“He’s been busy. So, what have we got here?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out. There’s hardly any sign of struggle aside from the gun and the bullets. The door was locked when the police arrived. The windows were blocked off. No one saw the owner of this residence leave after neighbors heard the gunshots.”

“Sounds like some sort of portal or teleportation.”

“It’ll probably take too long, even with this thing,” Dock pointed at his screen, “to calculate the bullet trajectories, and process all of the fingerprints and hair follicles.”

“Plus anything else we might find,” Bucht said.

“Yes, anything else we might find. Adamast, you said Mortar Mage gave you something before sending you our way?”

She pulled out a strange device from a small pouch she kept on her backside, hidden away between her matching skirt and cape. Adamast Cross showed it to the other heroes, and Dock put a hand out. The screen retracted and disappeared inside his closing arm.

“Oh, yes! I love his little inventions,” Dock said.

Adamast said, “You’ve no idea how weird that sounds, do you?” She let Dock take and examine the device.

“Nah, he’s always come through for me in a pinch. You always make it sound like one of his inventions might level the entire city. What’s the worst he’s done?”

“In recent memory?” Cause a blackout. Blow up a mountain, perhaps. “I’m not sure even I believe it sometimes.”

Dock set the device on the ground and pressed a button. “There, now to see what this thing’s supposed to do.”

“You’re testing that in here? You do know we’re surrounded by dry wood, and Mortar loves fire, right?”

Bucht said, “Tell you what, Adamast; if it’s anything to worry about I’ll buy you your favorite drink. If it’s nothing, then you’re buying.”

“You’re waging beer over a house burning down.”

“A beer versus whatever sissy drink you’ve been enjoying these days.”

A blue light engulfed the room and dimmed. Numbers and figures etched in the air around the trio. Dock brought his screen back out, presumably to record everything.

“I suppose it’s a good thing we didn’t shake on it,” Adamast said. "I'd hate to have to drink you under the table."

For a moment, it looked like the table had a bright, light blue shadow going out by what Adamast would call a hair. A gun of the same color appeared and shot several silent rounds at a target. The bullets bounced off of the target and landed where the real ones now lay. The figure holding the gun jerked its head and fell against the table, where the blue shadow merged with the real object. The shadow of the gun joined its partner in reality as well after dropping separately from the second figure’s vanishing body.

The target, a second figure, that was shot at vanished. Everyone in the room turned their attention to a third figure, who backed into a wall and sidled against it toward the door before it too vanished.

“Damn,” said Bucht and Adamast Cross.

Dock said, “I wonder how admissible something like this would be in court. Mortar outdid himself with this little device. If this is accurate it could save us countless hours or days of work in any crime scene.”

The full scenario played again. This time, everyone could see a vague representation of the figures’ faces. Once the second play-through was finished, Dock collected and turned off the device.

“I’ll have to compare this with whatever the lab folks find when they’re done examining everything.” One forensic investigator gave Dock a thumb up for appreciation. “While I wait on that, I’ll have to run a face diagnostic on those three men. I know I’ll have seen at least one of them before, knowing my luck. Could you tell Mortar I’m borrowing this, and thanks for me?”

“Sure thing,” Adamast said.

The heroes headed for the door, where their conversation continued.

Bucht said, “Did you see the new hero that’s in town? Diamond Grace? She looks like she has similar powers from you. Same hair color, too.”

Adamast replied, “Also the same eyes, and the same parents.”

“Oh, you have a sister! Is she available?”

“That depends. Is your ass available for one of my boots? Besides, I couldn’t really tell you. She’s going through a bit of a rough time right now, and has been taking time off from nurse school because of it. She’s a big enough girl to make her own decisions, though.”

Jackie stretched as she sat up in bed, in the middle of the early afternoon. Her clothes were on the other side of the hotel room. Her instincts were telling her to freak out, to run and scream bloody murder for what she had done.

Instead, she turned and leaned on the big man lying in bed with her.

He said, “Wow, lady, I don’t think I had a night that wild in a long time.”

“I’m pretty sure we went past the whole morning,” Jackie cooed.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d consider kidnapping you when I leave for Europe in a week.”

“Promise?”

In fact, what reason she had left was banging on the window outside, demanding to come back in. There was only one thing she was letting inside that moment, and it looked like her new lover was up for giving it to her.

“On second thought, I don’t think I’ll risk it,” said Bucht as the trio entered the street.

Adamast said, “Good choice.”

Dock chuckled. “So, what about you, Adamast Cross? I remember hearing that you were dating a cute young lady shortly before your big change, that she turned out being a villain, and now she's one of the good guys." She had to go through a long process for that, even. "Likewise, we’ve been hearing rumors that you’re seeing a stud of a man.”

“I really don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“Oh, come on. What would it hurt to be a little social? Bucht here seems to think that you’re with that Saelum Blaster guy, but that can’t be right.”

Bucht said, “You’re only saying that because you want him for yourself.”

“Hardly anyone dresses like that, and is still able to be straight. You should see the hot fanfic I once wrote about . . .” Dock cut off when Bucht cleared his throat. “Fine! I, on the other hand, think you’re with Ohm Wire.”

“You put a bet on it, didn’t you?” Adamast had to ask.

“There may or may not have been a wager brought up when we were talking to the police lieutenant that Bucht sometimes flirts with. What was her name again, Bucht?”

“If you must know, then I’m seeing both of them, and I’m at different stages with each one. There. Happy?”

She looked at both men defiantly, but, deep down inside, Adamast was screaming at what she just admitted regarding Saelum. What was she thinking?

Dock pulled down his goggles with one finger. “Dude, save some for the rest of us.” His goggles returned upward.

Bucht asked, “Is he really a generic dunce like everyone thinks he is?”

“No,” Adamast sighed, “he’s just emulating the Captain Patriot comics.”

“But does he kiss like the Captain Patriot in the comics?”

“There’s no way I’m ever answering . . . that. What?”

Out in the back of the crowd outside, there was a man with a gaunt face looking at the trio of heroes. The man turned and walked away, but Adamast Cross gave pursuit upon recognizing him. She slipped through the crowd in a hurry and tried to catch up.

He was gone. Maybe she was seeing things. Adamast hoped she was seeing things.

Dock and Bucht arrived seconds later. The former said, “What was that all about?”

“I thought I saw someone,” Adamast said, “someone dangerous who shouldn’t even be here.” There was real trouble if he was.

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

“Hey there, Warren!” Tatiana strutted into the room, not caring that her pregnancy was definitely showing after five months or more. In fact, she might have been damn proud of the baby now growing inside of her.

Wyatt walked in with her, carrying a box. He said, “Hey Warren. Did we miss anything?”

Warren hugged Tatiana and Wyatt. “So much to say all at once. Is that box for me?”

“We found it on the front doorstep. We weren’t sure if you felt boxed in enough already or not. Ow.” Tatiana had smacked Wyatt up the backside of his head.

“Those delivery guys were supposed to at least ring the bell. Thanks for this; it’s the last part I needed to complete something of mine. So, Tatiana, questions. Lots of questions.”

“Shoot,” said Tatiana. “But ask me on the way to the kitchen. I need some juice right now.”

“OK, so when’s the baby due? Do you know what gender yet? How’s your ‘coffee girl’ and ‘expecting mother’ life away from all of the heroics? And did you really just teleport us to the kitchen when it was less than fifteen feet away?”

“We’re leaving it a mystery, but the baby will be due four months from this Sunday.” She opened a bottle of apple juice and gulped down half of it. “Oh, I miss going out and kicking some bad guy ass, but life has been pretty calm when my baby isn’t trying to imitate my martial arts moves. Though, I have had a few customers I wish my baby would jump out and beat the living snot out of them.”

“And the teleportation?”

“Because I felt like it. The doctor says to keep it down, so I only do it when I really need to be somewhere. She also confirmed what you told me months ago, so I don’t need to worry about my child mutating from nanomachines like I did several years ago; not unless another satellite drops on them.” She took another drink. The apple juice was fully drained in an instant, with zero chance of survival. “So, how’s your love life been?”

Warren sighed and said, “Same girlfriend as before. It’s still proving difficult to introduce her to everyone, but we’re trying. Believe it or not, the last woman I had to turn down was Mary’s sister.”

“Nuh-uh! Wyatt didn’t tell me this.”

Warren was walking by the guest bedroom when Jackie called out. “Hey, science-magician guy, I have a very important question for you. Which do you like more, mine or Mary’s?” She was pulling up her shirt and bra so Warren could see her breasts in all their glory.

“Uhh . . .”

“. . . so I was a perfect gentleman, and told her that I was already seeing that movie with the woman of my dreams.”

Tatiana laughed and said, “Wow. Wyatt told me she was some sort of hardcore religious woman.”

“She was, still might be, but I think she broke when her faith was tested by her own superpowers. It’s a shame, really. At least she looked like she was recovering and becoming a new woman by the time she left here.”

“I wish her good luck. What are you working on now?”

“Several things, as usual. I’m soundproofing some of the walls around here; I just got done with a couple areas including the two guest bedrooms.”

“Ooh, Wyatt and I should check that out, just like the last time you soundproofed our base’s walls. What else?”

“I’m rebuilding that contraption that I had made a few months ago – the one that caused as much trouble as it solved. This time, I have all the right parts instead of makeshift ones, so I can do it right, and even add a few features.”

“These features aren’t going to kill us, are they?” She smirked toward Warren.

“My inventions are never that bad. What’s with everyone? Wait, don’t answer that. So, other than that, the only other big projects involve helping someone with a cryogenics issue, and perfecting something that would negate world-wide power suppression for a time.”

Wyatt asked, “You can do that?”

“Mary could when she was a succubus. I’m trying to work off of my limited readings from that day, but they’re not enough. I might have to track down a couple powerful succubi and run some tests. That will have to wait a little bit, I’m afraid.”

“Is it because of the current crisis, whatever it is?”

“That’s right. It looks like I’m going to have to put my gadgets and battle magic to good use again, but it’s too early to tell.”

“That’s why Walter called me in, I think. I came here early thinking more people were around so we could visit.”

All three of them sat or stood around the room in awkward silence. Even though Mortar Mage and Psi Wizard had similarities in their monikers, they were perhaps unable to relate when it came to so many other things. Wyatt was a psychic; one who preferred and specialized in working with emotions and healing energy, but a psychic nonetheless. Psychics made Warren uneasy, with the one exception being the man before him.

Tatiana said, “Since we have time to kill, would you mind if Wyatt and I check out one of the guest bedrooms like we did for the old base?”

“Sure,” said Warren.

She forced a few laughs, and then Tatiana guided Wyatt toward the foyer, apparently not realizing that there was another stairway closer nearby. Either that, or she was leaving.

Once the couple was out of sight, Warren called out, “After the stairs, it’s the second door on the left!”

Tatiana and Wyatt each said their thanks, with their steps up the stairs echoing behind them.

“Alright then,” said Warren to himself, “if that’s not going to change, then I guess I better focus and get this thing done before the others show up.”

He opened the newly delivered package, and retrieved the final component.

Wordless chanting and the swaying foot soldiers added to the ominous atmosphere that Devon witness as he entered the main chamber to witness the ritual. In the middle of the temple was the altar, upon which there were the bones and hair of a young woman.

“You should feel honored,” said Nervaeus, who entered after Devon did. “Our soldiers here are usually the closest mortals come to seeing this ritual.”

“The closest? What do you mean?” asked Devon.

“Take that other mortal I found you with. He’s in this room. Standing there, and there, and possibly over there. Or maybe he’s anywhere.”

“Be careful, Nervaeus,” said Cingeteyrn. Devon had no idea when or where he entered. “Someone might get the idea that this mortal can be omnipresent. It matters not where the pieces have gone, for the soldiers simply are.”

“Mind your own affairs. You have the lady to accompany.”

“So I do.” He smiled, stretching his gaunt features, and vanished like evaporating water.

Seconds later, Cingeteyrn appeared again, this time with Vidnyanta by his side. Judging by her show of strength earlier, she did not need to be walked to the altar, but Cingeteyrn remained like a man lending his pride and joy to another.

“Damn theatrics,” mumbled Nervaeus.

Vidnyanta stood over the bones, and raised a goblet. “Tonight,” she declared, “I take this body, perished before her time, for my own. So begins the ritual.”

Then she drank from the goblet.

“You’re doing what?” repeated Mary. “Warren, when you first built that thing, you knocked out the power in several city blocks.”

Warren said, “I know, but it’ll be different this time. I made upgrades to make it more stable, and have been ordering the correct parts. Remember? Nothing’s exploded or gone crazy in the tests that I’ve run since then.”

“That we know of.” Kyra chimed in with Mary in unison.

“All I have to do is flip the switch, and we can spot every metahuman and mage in an area around the city, and measure their power. We can use this to find any villain or missing hero, assuming we know how every mutant or magic user measures to one another in terms of power. It’s kind of like seeing a forest for the first time, and needing to record every plant. It’s still a process, but here we go. On the count of three. One, two, three!” Warren flipped the main switch on the scanner.

. . . And absolutely nothing happened. Mary wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or scared. After her recent nightmare and the face she had seen in the city crowd earlier, she wanted it to be a relief.

“Perfect! Now, let’s access the computer, and—“

He was interrupted by the lights flickering around the room. Before anyone could speak up about it, the lights went out.

“Warren,” said everyone.

He replied, “That wasn’t me, I don’t think.” The lights turned on again. “There, see? We’re good to go, and it appears that the computer didn’t shut . . . off.” The lights went out again.

Then back on.

Then off again.

“Look!” Kyra shouted, pointing out the window. The whole city was affected, regardless of whether the buildings had generators or relied on the power grid.

Every computer, phone, or computer-controlled set of lights appeared to be hacked. Messages began to appear that made little to no sense to anyone.

Within one bank, a small gang was attempting a heist when the lights turned on and off, both inside and outside of the building. They panicked, and half of them scrambled, tripping the alarms on their way out.

In Talos, the bustling skyscraper district, the lights switched on and off. People, in their confusion, collided with one another in their cars. Along the front and back of a trio of towers, the lights began to spell out “LIGHTS GO ON” and “LIGHTS GO OUT” alternatively.

Some message scrolling boards changed to read, “I can hear you,” or “It’s so cold here.”

A few buildings around the city, which had large television monitors for people to see from across the street, were affected as well. Their regular programming glitched out, and was replaced with a recording of women dancing a Bon Odori.

Mai, walking home from work, spotted the Japanese dancers on one screen. She sent one hand up to her mouth, and thought once again of the little girl she had lost.

No one minded the single plume of green light in the distance, where someone was working dangerous magic. The phenomenon within the city stole away far too much attention for it to be noticed by anyone close enough to see it.

Moments into the phenomenon, a bloodcurdling scream belonging to a woman sounded throughout the entire Paragon area. It shattered numerous windows near the center of the city, and even caused yet another building in the disfigured Faultline district to crumple.

As the scream echoed and faded, the lights continued to change amidst the night-fallen city.

Soundproof walls. Wonderful, glorious, soundproof walls! Tatiana moaned in ecstasy as her husband continued to thrust deeper and deeper into her straddling body. She could barely breathe. Barely think. She didn’t want to, because she felt so good.

The lights outside, and above them, were going in and out.

“Déjà vu. Déjà vu! DEEE-JJAAAA VVUUUUUUU…!” She said, losing what was left of her mind to a second climax.

Electrical discharges startled everyone in the room. Warren exclaimed, “Whoa!” and took a step back from the computer screens while shielding his face with an arm.

Kyra asked, “What’s happening?”

“There’s an unnaturally high current,” Warren explained. “I need to get closer so I can investigate the source. Jeff, could you give me a little help with that power of yours?”

Jeff raised his arms as if to use his darkness powers on the computer screens, but one last surge blasted its way out of them, like a white hot knife through black cloth. The whole room went dark after that.

The whole city went dark.

All it left was the sound of a girl weeping. It wasn’t Kyra. She looked around in the darkness, though she realized how futile that was.

“Mary, are you alright?” Kyra asked.

“I’m fine,” said Mary. “You?”

“Yeah. Jeff?”

Jeff replied, “No problems here. But, if you two are fine, then who’s . . . ?”

Kyra looked in the direction of the crying girl, who she could not see at first. “Warren?” The lights turned back on, however, and the sight was even more confusing. An unconscious Warren lay on the ground. On top of him was a woman with dark brown, nearly black, hair, a mild tone to her skin, and a slant in her eyes.

Her face was largely hidden as the mysterious, naked woman heaved and cried into Warren’s chest.

Jeff let down his crossed arms, and Mary said, “It can’t be.”

The young woman stood up, her head low, and her scraggly shoulder-length hair covering half of her facial features. “Ohmie,” she said, “Jeffers, Mary; help me.” She had taken a step closer, but collapsed like a lifeless doll.

Mary was the one to catch her with her quick reflexes.

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

Vidnyanta’s old body fell and diminished until it was nothing more than a heap of dust and cloth. Such was the fate of powerless mortals. Her new body, however, opened from its fetal position, and she felt so strong. So chilly.

She got off the altar table, and two foot soldiers slipped a fresh robe upon her, one that was worthy of a goddess, and designed like the ancient Egyptians should have depicted her, even if her body and face did not match her original body. They had been fools to bar her from the pantheon, and now she had a new body to get back at the world whenever she pleased for the next couple centuries, not that the world had that long.

Once the robe was closed properly, Vidnyanta said, “My knowledge is boundless, my strength is great, and all shall kneel.”

Everyone in the room kneeled except for the other two Vanquishiri. The trio of gods was complete. Now, only one thing stood before their reign of discord and death upon the realm of mortals.

As she came upon that thought, she became aware of another presence in the world, or more specifically in the Paragon City area. It was an impossible presence. She decided that thinking too long about it would have been a distraction; especially since the doom of the world and its universe would sort all things out in the end. No, what she needed to do instead was fill the gap in her knowledge while the final preparations were being made. She had foreseen this quest for an answer, and it annoyed her that she would not know what the answer was. If the answer was somehow tied to the impossible presence, then so be it.

“Come, Devon,” she said. “Let us find your truth.”

The world hurt like a pile of bricks, or maybe that was just his head. Warren scowled either way as he sat up. Memory realigned itself, and he gathered that he was hit by something supernatural.

Where was everyone? Warren could hear them in the next room.

That moment, he found a book on the ground that looked as though it had been burned. He reached for it, using magic to try and protect the book’s remains, but it perished on the ground before him.

He scrambled through his things to find a few monitoring devices before heading outside.

“Call her mom?” asked Mary. “What are we going to say? ‘Someone appeared who looks like your daughter. She might be back from the dead, but we can’t say for sure?’ I don’t see that working very well, Jeff.”

Jeff said, “No, but Mai has the right to know.”

They were interrupted by footsteps coming down the stairs, and by Tatiana asking, “What’s all this racket about?”

The few people who were downstairs and conscious squirmed, barely saying hi to Tatiana and Wyatt as they finally came down to join everyone. Mary was certain she knew what the two of them were doing upstairs, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she averted her eyes toward the young woman sleeping on the couch with nothing more than a blanket over her.

Wyatt said, “Well, this is grim, whatever it is. Who do we have on the couch?”

“Oh my god,” said Tatiana suddenly, seeing the woman there. She carefully brushed aside some of the woman’s hair, and pulled down the blanket enough to get a better look at her face. “Judy. But, what . . . how . . . whaeyayuh . . . .”

The tears and confusion flooded her voice.

Just then, the door to the room Warren had been using as the downstairs office slammed open. He walked into the living room sporting a case in one hand, and his forehead in the other.

“Not to alarm anyone,” he said, “but I think we have a visitor.”

“And the award for understatement of the evening goes to . . .” said Kyra.

Mary said, “Damn it, Warren.”

Warren followed everyone’s gazes until he found Judy. She was a few years older than when they saw her last, but there was no mistaking Judy’s appearance. Warren set his case down beside the couch, and rested a hand on top of Judy’s forehead.

She moved then. Judy coughed and inhaled deeply, and opened her eyes.

There was a moment of silence and uncertainty.

“I can feel you, all of you,” said Judy. She lifted her upper body. “Everyone looks older now. Why do I feel so different? And why am I naked?” With a deep blush, she used her arms to cover her breasts. “Holy crap, they’re huge!”

Tatiana said “They’re not that big, sweety.”

Simultaneously, Mary said, “Not as big as mine.”

“Right, so,” said Warren, “I’m going to need to run a few tests on you. Would you feel more comfortable holding up that blanket, or would you like someone to get you a shirt to wear?”

“What kind of tests are you going to run?” asked Judy

“Heartbeat , body integrity, things like that. It won’t take long, and it shouldn’t hurt.”

“You say shouldn’t, and I say there’s a chance.”

“Nothing more than a pinch. Nothing’s going to blow up or shut down, I promise.”

“Then can I get a shirt please?”

Kyra hurried to her with something in her hand. It was a folded shirt that she kept in her purse in case of emergencies.

“Here you go. I think you’re close enough to my size.” Kyra spoke kindly.

Judy said, “Thank you, Ohmie.”

“Please, call me Kyra. How do you know the name Ohmie, anyways?”

“It just comes to me. It’s like I remember talking to you, but I was asleep somewhere cold for so long. I remember hearing Mortar’s voice while I slept, asking me if I could hear him. I remember making observations about the old base before it collapsed. I remember you, eating alone on top of a table. But, again, I was asleep. What does it all mean?”

“Here.” Kyra helped Judy slip her shirt on while using her own body to hide Judy’s top from everyone. Meanwhile, the blanket continued to cover everything below Judy’s waist. Then Kyra rested her hands on Judy’s shoulders. “You’re home now. We’re here for you.”

Kyra splashed her face with more water. She half wanted to hide away in another bathroom to do this, but she picked the bathroom sink on the other side of the mansion instead. She needed time alone; she thought she did.

“Are you doing alright, sweety?” asked Tatiana. She stood at the closed entrance to the bathroom. Some privacy.

“I’m fine,” Kyra lied.

“No, you’re not.”

“It’s complicated.”

“You might want to try me on that.”

“That won’t mean it’s less complicated.” Kyra shut off the water with a sigh. “She was dead. For the past few months, I’ve tried to be my own hero, without living in her shadow. I had my own informant and everything. Then she comes back, and I learn that my informant all this time might have been her. I’m glad she’s back, if it’s really her, but what’s that make me?”

“Have you tried sending your informant any messages?”

Kyra showed off her phone. There had been no new, incoming messages since yesterday when Kyra’s mom had texted a picture with the words “Thinking of you.”

Tatiana said, “Damn. Well, sweety, let me tell you what. There’s only one you, and only one Judy. No matter how alike the two of you get, you need to remember that. Just do what you know or feel is right.”

“You’re right, but it doesn’t change how I feel.”

“It’s like your emotions have been winded, right? Imagine how everyone else feels right now. Jeff even hit the bar; he never does that. Warren and Wyatt are barely keeping it together examining Judy. Mary is trying frantically to get ahold of Walter, who we haven’t heard from since this morning.”

“Yesterday morning.”

“You know what I mean. The point I’m making is this. Something impossible has happened, and everyone is coping as best we can because this thing throws what we knew and felt under the bus. You’re not alone, and you don’t need to be. We’ll all get over this together.”

“You seem like you have it together.”

“Are you kidding me? I want to kick and scream and run away somewhere, but my baby is already threatening to kick my ass if I tried. So I’m talking to you for both of us. Now, can I ask you an important question?”

“Yes.”

“Why the fuck are you trying to hook up the love of your life with someone else?”

“I’m not. I just . . . She needs more than I alone can give her, and I want her to be happy. Is that so wrong?”

“Open relationships aren’t for everyone, sweety. Ask yourself if you’re really trying to give Mary your all before you give her up to someone else. I’d hate to see you two split apart because she got more from someone else.”

Kyra opened her mouth to respond to that defiantly, but then her phone buzzed. She checked it swiftly.

“It’s the boys. They’re calling a conference.”

“Is everyone ready? Good.” Warren stood by a holographic projector.

“Still no sign of our fearless leader?” asked Tatiana.

Mary said, “Nope.”

“He’ll turn up. Give him five years.”

Warren cleared his throat. “First things first, our guest is actually who she appears to be. That’s putting it in simple terms. Now, you might be asking how it is that she’s back, or why she looks like she’s twenty rather than fifteen. I’m still looking into that, but I think we can suffice to say that she’d have been twenty anyhow under better circumstances. As to how she came back, well, that is where things got tricky, like a rare alignment of forces at work.

“As some of you might recall, there was a mysterious file on the base computer that moved here with us. I had been unable to access it in the last few months, but it wasn’t harming anything more than the amount of space we had on the base’s main computer. Inside that file was a fragment, left behind by someone who’d been emotionally broken at the time, and she didn’t even realize what she was doing.”

“Judy’s just a fragment now?” asked Jeff, who had a drink in hand.

“Not exactly. This brings me to a more recent event – the grave robbery. Someone dug up and took her body.”

“What?!” exclaimed Tatiana.

Judy shifted uncomfortably.

Warren went on, “A couple days ago, a villain told us in his final moments that someone calling themselves the Vanquishiri was coming. While scanning our friend here, I found trace elements of powerful soul magic. Someone was working with her remains at the precise moment that I turned on the new scanning console. Somehow, the base called out to a tormented soul, it reunited with the fragment, and Judy was able to use her power to leap out of the computer rather than stay at the source of the magic.”

The projector animated a large portion of this for everyone to see. It paused on the outline of a human system.

“She is alive again,” said Warren, “but it is not a perfect revival. It is uncertain how long she can stay awake, whether or not she can use her powers at will like before, or anything. So that leaves us, not just as Leaguers but as a family, to watch over Judy and help her when she needs it. When we know that she won’t keel over without warning, or explode in a sudden burst of electricity, we can contact her mother. However, if we wish to stabilize her, then we’ll need to find her remains, and reunite Judy with herself.”

“I can’t see my mom yet?” asked Judy.

“I’m sorry, Judy. I really am. I’m not sure your mother can take the emotional blow right now, whether we can succeed to stabilize you or not. I don’t want to get her hopes up that you’re here for good.”

“Permission to swear?”

“Please do” and “Go ahead” filled the room.

Judy said, “This shit fucking sucks harder than anything else that can be thrown at me, not discounting rusted buckets of bloody piss. I can’t see my mom, I’m scared, I don’t even remember how the fuck I died, and some sons of bitches out there are fucking me over for some unknown reason. Fucking damn it!”

She slammed her body toward the couch, and Mary caught her. Just then, the front door could be heard opening and closing. Walter called out, and entered the room. Mary pulled the blanket over Judy.

Tatiana said to him, “Where the hell have you been?”

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

As to that, I have a long tale as to why I was held up. My story begins around eleven a.m., about five minutes after I got off the phone with Wyatt. I was in the downtown Steel Canyon area on other business that had been concluded for the day when I placed the call, and I was walking to where I usually catch a taxi.

Walter strolled across the round walkway where countless other people walked. He stopped, and some people screamed, when a van pulled up behind him with a screech.

Two men in ski masks hopped out while the third stayed behind the wheel. Walter saw what was happening, and he let his cane turn from a simple walking stick to a single baton for warding off his attackers. He hadn’t brought his firearm, and still didn’t think he would have needed it.

He swung and twirled the cane about, and dodged around the two men whenever they tried to attack him. All he needed was another hit or two, and just one of them was going down. But then, something stung him in the back of the neck. Walter reached for the tiny projectile that hit him while his consciousness started to slip away.

Both men tackled him, and the world went dark.

When it came to tying people to chairs, there were two classes of people. One that actually learned the ropes, so to speak, and knew how to face their victim toward the back of the chair with both the arms and legs secured.

Then there were Hollywood types, blind followers, and morons who only tied one pair of limbs while seating the victim forward. Walter decided to count this one a blessing when he awoke, because that meant less work in escaping when he was ready.

“Hey, man, he’s waking up,” said one of the three captors.

Coming to, I decided at first that the best course of action would be to fish my captors for information. Little did I know that this wouldn’t take long if I wanted it to.

“For a banker, you sure can put up a fight,” said the first man.

Walter said, “I’m not a banker.”

“We’re not stupid, you know,” said the second man.

“Yeah, man,” started the third, “why else would anyone walk through Steel Canyon’s central plaza wearing a suit and standing tall like you do?”

Resisting a grimace, Walter said, “Plenty of people do that.”

“Besides, we were told that the banker we’re looking for would be crossing the plaza when you did.”

“Told by whom, exactly?”

The first man said, “Whoa, this guy says ‘whom!’ He has to be some kind of genius.”

“He’s a banker,” said the second man, “Of course he’s going to use words we don’t understand.”

“Dear, oh dear. I’m afraid this isn’t getting us anywhere. What would you need to abduct a banker for anyhow?”

“Because, man, you can help us out. We got this crazy parking ticket and we want to turn it in for something better. Like, you know, the next big game at Reynolds Stadium.”

“The next big game, you say?” Walter’s voice and demeanor leaned on the incredulous.

One of the gentlemen—at this point, it no longer mattered who to Walter—responded, “Yeah, an upgrade. For the price of parking in this city, the three of us can score great seats. You can hook us up, right, or was it that we were going to ransom him for the cash?”

“Do you want to know something?” asked Walter. He budged his bound arms up against the backside of the chair, and lifted his legs. “No. I sat here trying to be accommodating, but I’m out. Here I was; curious as to what you were up to, and yet I would rather interrogate a lawn while I’ve gone without sleep for a few days. No, thank you! You boys will need to carry on this farce without me.”

Walter managed to climb out of the chair, and continued to storm toward a work table with some tools on it. He ignored the stunned faces staring at him while Walter patted the table with his hands behind his back. He grabbed a tool that looked sharp enough to undo the rope around his wrists, and walked toward the door.

“Hey, wait, what about our tickets?” asked one man.

“Frankly, boys,” said Walter, “you should count yourselves lucky that you haven’t been shot. Do the world a favor and join the damn workforce. Also, don’t reproduce. Ever.”

Once on the other side, Walter closed the door and spotted the keys hanging from the knob. He gave the knob a jiggle without turning the key too hard. Something told him that actually locking the door wouldn't be necessary.

He said, “I’ll be back in a few hours to unlock the door. Until then, I suggest you gentlemen think long and hard about where you went wrong. It might do you some good.”

Walter turned toward the exit. It was a short stairway of concrete steps leading up into a day-lit world. He barely made a few steps outside when Walter ran into a young woman, and it took him a moment to realize that she had been running toward the building that he had come out of.

“Oh, it’s you,” said the young woman, regaining the balance and composure she lost during their collision. “How did you break loose? No, that’s not important. I’m glad you’re safe. My father and I need your help.”

“And who might you be?” asked Walter.

“My name’s Gemma. My father owns a local security company, and he needs help with the loan on our business. It’s come under fire by neighboring mafia families, and we’re hoping we can at least reason with you so that we can keep working.”

“Who do you think I am?”

“You’re the banker, aren’t you? You’re wearing a suit, and you walked out of that same bank branch. Who else could you be?”

“Not a banker at all, actually. In fact, I don’t normally do business with that bank. Today’s just been full of surprises, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry. If you’re not the banker in charge of that place, then I guess I should find him now.”

Gemma curtsied and turned away from Walter, allowing him a better look at the large sniper rifle strapped to her back. She was walking away when Walter’s conscience kicked itself and forced him to call out to her.

“Wait. You said something about neighboring mafia families?”

“It’s nothing. Really. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Mafia families are hardly ever nothing, Miss Gemma. If it’s anything I can handle, I’d be happy to help.”

“What are you? Some kind of hero?”

“Something like that. The name’s Walter Dallevan. Maybe you’ve heard of me, or the supergroup I run.”

“I can’t say I have.”

Her answer stunned him. It took him a moment to find his next words. “That’s unfortunate, because we’ve done so much good over the years. No matter, no matter. If you need help, then I’d be happy to oblige far more than any banker you’ll meet. I just have one question before I do. What’s with the rifle?”

Gemma twisted her shoulder forward to get a better look at the gun on her back. “What, this? It’s how I tranquilize targets from a distance.”

“And no one’s tried to stop you from carrying it around town?”

“Strangely no. I’ve been toting this rifle around for a couple months now, and no one has even asked me about it until now. I’m a pretty good shot with it, too.”

“So were you aiming for me earlier?”

“What? Oh no. I was aiming for the other men you were fighting, but you were moving around so much. I thought I had a good shot, but you jumped in the path of that dart at the last possible second.”

“You could have gone for the driver.”

Walter noted the deer-in-the-headlights look on Gemma’s face. The thought apparently hadn’t crossed her mind, however obvious, until he pointed it out. Her lip twitched. Walter walked to her, and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s OK,” he said. “We all make mistakes. Consider yourself lucky that no one was harmed, and learn from it. Now, shall we get going?”

“Yes, let’s go. We can start by meeting my father, or anyone else if you like.”

“Let’s first go back to where I was abducted. I’m going to need something from there. Then, we can meet with your father. Come along.”

I took note of the brick building I’d come out of, and its address, as the two of us departed. I was lucky to find my walking stick in one piece where I had left it, and doubly so to find an officer nearby. I told the officer where to find those three men. Then Gemma and I were off to meet her father. Fine fellow, trusting, and let us in with hardly any wait.

“Ah, Gemma, my principessa,” he said as they entered his office that was located in a laundromat basement. “I see you have brought a banker. Where’s the other one?”

“Not a banker, I’m afraid,” said Walter. “The name is Walter Dallevan. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Dallevan, Dallevan. Circus ringmaster, wasn’t it?”

“Close, actually. I run a supergroup full of heroes, and am in the business of helping anyone I can. I understand you are having trouble involving your own business?”

“It’s true. I have been receiving notices from mob families, many of which I’ve never seen or heard of before in my life. They’ve been telling me this neighborhood is taken. Half of them claim to be the ones protecting it.”

Walter said, “I see. I take it this neighborhood doesn’t receive much attention from actual law authorities these days, then?”

“Not unless you count the heroes who show up just to beat up villains or random gang members to a bloody pulp. Then, to top it all off, the bank we were trusting with our business has been making it progressively more difficult to get the loan and proper paperwork needed for a headquarters in our own building. It’s hard running a security company from a basement of any kind, let alone somewhere as hot and noisy as the shop upstairs.”

“That could mean a number of things. I can check it out and solve most of those things in a day, of course.”

“For how much?” the gentleman asked.

“How much?!”

“Mr. Dallevan, my family isn’t so well-off since my father came here from Italy. The most valuable thing we have is a family heirloom we can never lose like we did its sister some years ago. I was lucky to rent this room from one of his close friends. But, if you can help me, I can pay you anything if it’s within reason.”

“A fine notion, I can assure you, but that won’t be necessary. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to see about the bank trouble. It was a pleasure, Gemma, and to you as well . . . I’m sorry. I forgot to ask your name.”

“It’s Emilio Batticelli. Wait, Gemma?”

Gemma, who had set down her rifle during the short conversation, was strapping it back over her shoulder and walking to Walter.

“What?” she asked. “You said you can help us, and I’m going to join you.”

Walter said, “They will probably confiscate your weapon when we get there.”

“I’ll let you know then if I care. Let’s go.”

Being as unable to turn down help as I am whenever it’s offered, I led my traveling companion to the Damascus National Bank in Steel Canyon. Gemma pouted when the security asked her to leave her sniper rifle with them, but she relented and walked with me to the elevator.

He used the bottom of his cane to press the elevator button after one guard turned the key on the same panel. Walter walked in, and Gemma followed.

“You only brought the cane to press buttons, didn’t you?” Gemma asked.

Walter said, “Just the one.”

“I hate you.”

The door closed.

Moments later, they entered the top floor of the bank’s main offices and walked toward the back. The security flagged them down to stop them, but Walter opened the doors anyway and let himself in.

“What is the meaning of this?” asked the man behind the desk. He was not alone, between two larger gentleman and a skinny one. “It’s you!”

“Hello, Mr. Fierro,” Walter said without skipping a beat, “I’ve come to have an urgent word with you. Yes, yes, I know I was here earlier to settle a nasty sort of business downstairs, but this is new business.” He pressed the tip of his cane against one larger man’s nose before the man could get up from his rather comfortable seat. “And you will find that I do not take new business lightly, especially when it involves visiting the same place twice in one day.”

Mr. Fierro looked over at his secretary and nodded. “You can leave us. Now, Dallevan, wasn’t it? What do I owe the honor?”

“I’m here because there appears to be a misunderstanding regarding a man and his new business – a security company.”

“A security company? What does that have to do with me?”

“I’m talking about the legitimate business that moved in on these gentlemen’s turf, and how I overheard a reference to their boss sending his associates to pay you a visit at this hour when I was tending to the matter downstairs. You can thank one of the men guarding the door.”

Gemma said, “Wait, seriously?”

“Normally I’m not one to deal directly with mafia affairs here in the main of Paragon City. Much too droll for my tastes, you see, but when it steps in the way of my own business, you can be sure of the consequences.”

“Is that a threat?” asked one of the men around the room.

“It’s a statement, one that needs to be made clear. Competition is good for business, you know. If your game is one of protection, then let the Batticelli family operate under your radar, or I will loose every legal loophole to take you down. If that’s not enough, I know plenty of heroes and villains alike who would be happy to give another mob family the boot. Do I make myself clear?”

The two mobsters not pinned down by Walter’s cane were now standing and pointing their guns at him. The third one reached for his, but Walter pressed his cane harder into the man’s nose.

He sighed. Why did the muscle of any organization always choose to do things the hard way?

With a quick jab of his cane into the first man’s face, Walter dove below waist level and swung his cane up at the hand of the second. He followed it up by bringing the cane down on the man’s shoulder and swinging down to sweep it behind the man’s knees.

Walter readied himself for the third man, becoming increasingly aware that the first was getting up already. He danced a fencer’s dance with his cane while trying to avoid being shot by anyone’s gun. Therefore, disarming all three men took precedent over trying to knock out all three at the same time.

However, a piercing bang sounded and something bit him in the neck. Walter looked back at Gemma before blacking out and hearing a second bang.

Light returned, paired with an aftertaste of burnt sugar and hops beer. Next came the headache, followed by a few spinning shapes that refused to settle down for a moment. His hearing was too impaired to hear a woman’s voice clearly. Strangely, the lights flashed all over and around.

Most of the effects passed after a minute, and Walter was finally able to see Gemma crouching beside him. They were outside, and it was night.

“What happened?” Walter asked.

Gemma said, “You may or may not have gotten in the way of another of my darts.” She looked sheepish and pulled up one of her sleeves to reveal a long wristband made from plastic and ceramics.

“Gemma, do me a favor if you’re going to keep carrying weapons around of any kind. Work on your timing.” He struggled with himself to sit up, and won. “Better yet, try aiming for the bad guys not standing next to me.”

“I got one of them at least. If this thing could shoot more rounds, I would have gotten more of them, but they didn’t know that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I held them at gunpoint, basically, and had them tie themselves up inside that office before I left and called the police. You missed the three mobsters being taken away, as well as one of the security guards.”

“Probably recognized by the officers who came. Good job. What about Mr. Fierro?”

“I tied him up separately, but still somewhere the police could find or question him. I didn’t want any of them getting bright ideas about escaping before the police arrived. When I came back down to claim my rifle, the other security guard was patrolling the building. It’s a good thing you talk in your sleep, because the guard who was there thought you were just out of your mind.”

“It sounds like Fierro and the second guard got away,” Walter said, considering the habits he knew of the bank manager. “That’s sure to raise suspicion at least, but this has become a mess. I think it might be safer to go with another bank, or a credit union, for your father’s business.”

“The process takes so long, though,” Gemma said

“Oh, I think I can pull a few strings. You and your father will be able to watch over your clientele in just a few days.”

“Yes!”

“But! I want you to promise me you’ll do something about your habit of carrying weapons. More than that I want you to promise me that you won’t become like the mob families out there.”

“I promise.”

“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to grab some food and drink to wash this bad taste out of my mouth. Until we meet again, Gemma.”

“And that’s what took me so long to get here,” said Walter to his audience. “Why, what have you all been up to while I was away?”

He was certain that the young woman cloaked entirely with a single bed sheet, and sitting closest to Mary, was Jackie. But the makeshift hood came down as the mystery woman leaned even closer Maryann, revealing a more Asian look to her features. Her familiarity struck Walter like a train.

“He hasn’t exactly changed much, has he?” asked Judy.

Walter just let his open jaw hang like it was while he stared in disbelief.

A pair of officers sat, watching a closed, unlocked door while three men behind it argued about the same thing for the fourth time in the last couple of hours.

One officer tipped over the bag of potato chips in his hand, and his partner grabbed a few of the crisps.

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

When Judy awoke in the morning, it was to a gentle touch on the shoulder by Kyra. Her equally soft and genuine smile highlighted the winning battle against being up so close to sunrise. Or was it a losing battle? Judy couldn’t be sure with that one, but to this day she was certain alarm clocks were the epitome of evil.

Kyra held a short stack of clothes and said, “I brought you a shirt and some pants, based on the few measurements we took last night. Sorry I didn’t get you a bra, but I think Tatiana said she’d help you after work. She said it’s a short shift today.”

“Thank you,” Judy accepted her gift. “What about you?”

“Oh, I need to catch some shuteye.”

“It’s Friday morning.”

“My part-time job doesn’t need me today. Also, no classes since Math was canceled for the day.”

Judy stepped into the restroom to change from last night’s shirt to today’s outfit, but continued her conversation. “I wish I was in college. I didn’t even get to go to high school.”

“Maybe you can go once things get better; to college, I mean.”

“Yeah, maybe.” With her arms sticking into her shirt, Judy stared down at her boobs. The air caressed her nipples, leading to a feeling she hardly knew five years ago. They wanted to be touched by something firmer, and she resisted. “I wonder if there’s some special scholarship for people who’ve come back from the dead?”

“Maybe at the Undead University of Universal Umbrience, wherever that is.”

“Oooooh....”

“That sounded really creepy.”

“Sorry. My boobs just really liked this shirt rubbing over them is all.” Judy blushed. Why was she blushing?

Kyra, however, started laughing. “Welcome to being a grown woman. Now, be sure to give them plenty of water and sunlight.”

“What, my boobs?”

“Yeah, you never know; you might have some cute guy all over them.” There was a sudden pause. Then Kyra’s tone changed. “Oh, Judy, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“What do you mean? Why shouldn’t you suggest me being with a guy?”

“I mean, with how you died.”

By now, Judy had stepped out of the restroom and tilted her head at Kyra.

“You really don’t remember,” said Kyra.

Judy said, “I have a hard time remembering even the day before. Everything’s so foggy. If I try to remember after that, there’s these two strange dreams. One, was when I watched over the old base in a haze, unable to process any thought, unable to speak or act with anyone.

“And the other one is swimming between light and darkness, hearing the voice of everyone there, though all they did was hum. Then I heard Warren asking me if I could hear him. I did. For a moment, I thought I was inside of some computer, so I reached for him, thinking I could just pop out like I used to. Then I heard nothing, I was cold and alone, and there was so little light where I was. So little will left to move where the light was plenty. I couldn’t tell how much time passed, but I knew it was too long.

“While I was there, some of the light I did see was swept away by these shooting stars of almost every color you can imagine. It looked beautiful, but it left me more and more alone as it went on. A few of those stars felt like they could be touched if I just reached out to them, and let them carry me away as well. I was tempted, oh so tempted. I’ve no idea what would have happened to me then, but the feeling was there. It shakes me up to even think about it.” She shivered.

“Then,” said Kyra, rubbing Judy’s forearms, “let’s try not to think about it. You’re back here, and soon you’ll be able to see everyone you haven’t already.”

“Mom. And Denise.” Those names made her smile.

“Denise? Who might that be?”

“She was a friend of mine in middle school. I wonder if she’s done anything with her life yet? Denise was an excellent swimmer, but also a troublemaker. We’d probably be on the run as supervillains by now if I didn’t put my foot down at least once or twice. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m just curious. You wouldn’t happen to mean Denise Grandt, would you?”

“Yes, that was her last name. How did you know?”

Kyra pulled out her phone, and looked something up. Judy couldn’t see what she was doing until Kyra turned the screen around. It was a news article about Denise, now a professional athlete with several deals and trophies to her name.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know, what with your computer access and everything,” said Kyra.

Judy shed a tear of joy. She made it; Denise followed her dream and made it. Judy did wonder if her friend still remembered her now, but she decided it was for the best to push that thought aside.

“She’s famous now,” said Judy.

“A professional athlete who grew up in Paragon without any superpowers. The media went nuts with the hype.” Kyra explained. “Weirdoes.”

“Thank you for showing me this.”

“What are friends for?”

“Any more surprises you have for me?”

The doorbell rang pretty much on cue. Kyra and Judy stood in silence while someone answered the door. Who else was here this morning? Judy didn’t know. Not until she heard Walter and an older woman. Not just any older woman.

“Mom.”

Mai ran inside, barely able to speak. She barely managed saying “please” and “help me” countless times amidst her frantic behavior. She might have even spoken in Japanese for some of it, but there was no way to be sure. She didn’t care. All Mai knew was that she needed help, and the League was the only group of people she trusted these days.

The only other person she saw was Walter. He was doing his best to calm a storm when he said, “Calm down, Mai. Calm down. What’s happened?”

“It’s my baby girl. She was stolen.”

“Stolen? I don’t understand.”

“After that phenomenon last night I could hardly sleep. I had to go see her. I went to her grave, and it was dug up. Who would do this? Why?”

Walter looked stricken. His gaze did not meet Mai. But then Mai heard a whimper behind her. She turned toward the stairs, and saw the impossible standing before her. A young woman with the appearance of a grown-up Judy stood, grasping for words and trembling.

The young woman took two steps toward a frightened Mai, even raising her arms, and then she collapsed to the ground.

Kyra ran down the stairs too late. She picked up the young woman, and felt at her wrists.

“Her pulse is weak,” said Kyra, “but she’s alive.”

“How is this possible?” asked Mai. “What have you done?”

“This wasn’t us.”

“Is this some kind of trick? Have you become villains or monsters?” Mai said this while whipping her head between Kyra and Walter.

“It’s nothing like that! She appeared last night. We don’t know how it happened. Not enough, anyways, but Warren says Judy left a part of herself locked away inside the base computer. He also said that there was powerful magic at work, probably aiming to do something else. Something terrible.”

She lifted and turned over the young woman. “This is Judy,” Kyra said.

Mai trembled the entire way towards her daughter. She fell to her knees and held on to her tightly. Tears rolled down Mai’s cheek.

A hand came down on her back. Walter said, “We will find out who is behind this. And, if possible, we will make things right again.”

“Make things right? My daughter’s come back. This is more than I could hope.”

“Bursts of emotion and power make her susceptible to fainting. That’s hardly living. That’s why we’re looking for answers. Judy has every right to be alive, truly alive.”

That was when Mai stood up carrying Judy in both arms like she weighed nothing. “Do you remember when she was kidnapped, and you promised to bring her home safely? Do you remember what you told me, Walter? You better make good on this promise.”

“You have my word, Mai. I will honor it.”

“Um, Mai?” said Kyra. “Not to change the subject or anything, but do you need help carrying Judy somewhere that’s comfortable?”

Jail gates opened with all of their metallic racket and fanfare. Patrick Franks stepped through them while his hands and feet continued to be bound so well that someone twenty times his strength could not break either cuff nor chain.

Two guards guided him from behind as Patrick walked into the visiting room. He sat down at the designated window and recognized his ex-girlfriend right away.

Neither of them liked seeing one another. At least this wasn’t an interrogation room; that would have meant she was especially pissed. The woman scared him, and he had every right of it.

After sitting in grim silence for a time, Mai said, “Do you remember our deal?”

“It’s not something I can forget,” said Patrick.

“Good. I came here to let you know that you will hear things, see things, but our deal doesn’t change. You continue to pay for what you’ve done, never stepping out of line, and I won’t have to kill you.”

There were cameras, microphones, guards, and other measures in place. Yet, Patrick knew that she meant it, and could do it with ease.

He nodded.

“Is anyone giving you trouble in here?” she asked.

“No.” He spoke the truth.

“Have you started or joined any gangs?”

“No.”

“Anything else?”

“The same as usual. I’d change it all if I could. Now, can I go back to serving my sentence in peace, or would you like to go make our visits more conjugal?”

Mai stood up and left without any show of emotion.

A guard came to start off Patrick’s escort back to the holding cell. Everyone here still hated him who knew what he had done. That was the way with prisons. A man didn’t rape and kill his own kid without being loathed and worse. For him it was even worse since his child was a hero respected by even half of the men in here.

He was surprised no one killed him yet. But then he figured that someone, probably Mai, got to the guards and top gang members. No one made things easy for Patrick, but no one went out of their way to make things difficult for him.

So then he lied back down on his bed, wasting away the first of multiple life sentences.

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

Mary walked out of the coffee shop, and narrowly dodged the man she encountered right outside of the door. Her sidestep became an awkward step when she saw the man’s face. He wore no mask, but she recognized him regardless with his chin structure and green eyes.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she said to him.

He smiled back at her. Of course he knew who she was. A few months ago, he saw Mary and Kyra naked after they washed up on the beach following a major battle.

The man she only knew as Mr. Sullivan or Saelum Blaster said, “Well, well. This is a surprise. Are you in a hurry?”

“No, I have a few minutes before I have to run off to my second day job,” Mary replied.

“Second day job? We teachers really don’t make much, do we?”

“I get by. This one’s more of a personal project than anything ever since a few friends of mine died without their folks knowing that they had done so as heroes. I happen to make a small income from it, but I donate most of it to various fundraisers.”

“Oh, I think I heard about that program. You’re informing family members of the deceased and putting fallen heroes to rest, right? I had no idea that was you.”

“It almost wasn’t.” In more ways than one.

“Hey, I have to get somewhere in a few minutes as well. Why don’t we talk about it tonight?”

“I can’t tonight. An old, dear friend is in town, for one thing. Also, Kyra told me this morning that she wants to treat me to dinner tonight. She was rather adamant about it.”

Just then, Mary could hear her friend Wyatt saying You could say she was Adamast about it. She pushed the bad joke aside with a hidden sigh, a blink, and a smile.

“Then I guess I’ll catch you later,” Mr. Sullivan said. He gave Mary a polite kiss on the cheek.

And yet, Mary could do nothing about the feelings of nervousness or lust for this man now walking the opposite direction from her. Mary shivered. Then she hurried off toward her office.

It was late in the morning when Kyra returned to the mansion after an errand.

Kyra heard Warren humming a random tune in one of the adjoined rooms as she entered the hall with one of the stairways around the expansive mansion. She often found it hard to believe that Warren and so many kids had grown up in this house, and not just because the whole building was still in one piece.

Through one doorway, she spotted Warren wiping the bracelet gifted by Trash Knuckle with a cloth. He was also checking on some machines in that room.

She looked back at the side of the stairway and saw Judy sitting down against the rail.

“I see you’re up again,” Kyra spoke softly.

“Yeah,” said Judy. “Mom and Tatiana came by moments ago to measure my new bra size. They handed me a smart phone with the understanding that I can’t be zapping myself into it, both for my safety and also because they’re going shopping. They want my opinion on what they find at the different stores around the mall. So now I’m just waiting around here for that.”

“That sounds rough.”

“It’s not as bad as having a small part of myself stuck inside a computer and watching everyone carry on with their lives, but it’s still so boring.”

“I hear you. I can hardly imagine, having been locked up or possessed however many times by now.”

“At least you didn’t get to see everyone naked except for Walter. Thanks for the peep show, by the way.”

“What?”

Judy giggled.

Kyra vaguely recalled her time spent inside of the abandoned base that the Dallevan League once rented from the Blue Pillar System. She once toyed with the idea of imagining the base’s watchful camera as someone attractive, but now this just made things a little awkward.

“Ha, it’s working!” Warren announced.

“What?” asked the girls at once.

Warren poked his head out of the doorway. “The system I built to record superpowers being used. It, and the other computers, are all fully operational again, and I got some recorded footage from last night.”

“Back-ups are nice,” Kyra said.

“Gods bless DVR. Now to check on the timeframe during Judy’s resurrection.” His voice trailed as Warren emerged back into the downstairs observation room.

Kyra said, “Oh yeah, there’s a thing. Were DVR and internet streaming a thing five years ago? I forget. But you can watch a bunch of stuff you missed while you recover.”

“Always a thought,” Judy said in a contemplative tone. “A couple of my favorite bands broke up, one of the biggest metal acts right now consists of girls who are now what my age was back when I’d died, and I hear there’s a girls’ show on TV that’s attracted a bunch of grown men. I never thought I’d ever see the day where I’d say that the internet scares me.”

“If you think that’s scary, I think some crazy guy made a top ten alien invasions in the last five and a half years, ranked by how enjoyable they all were.”

“Oh, those are still going? Fun.”

“I’m almost curious as to why they keep coming.”

“You’re probably better off not knowing.”

“Mortar’s fault?” In truth, Kyra meant it as a humorous jab at her friend and colleague.

“Mine, actually, and I sort of guess Tatiana’s as well,” Judy said. “Though, yes, it did involve one of his gadgets.”

After an “I heard that” from the other room, Kyra and Judy exchanged glances and laughed themselves silly.

She wasn’t sure at what point her body slammed into the side of the stairway, but Kyra came down from her high and pushed away from it while she could. She saw that Judy was holding herself up by the railing, and trying not to pass out again. It was good to have a laugh with someone she could relate to. Here she was, enjoying her time with the girl whose shadow she lived and worked in for a while now.

Kyra wanted ever so much to truly be out of Judy’s shadow, and pretended that she wasn’t, that it didn’t bother her, but she felt like the first person who needed to help Judy in any way she could.

Why was life so complicated?

A moment later, Mortar Mage walked out of the room he was in, and said, “Alright, you two, I need to check something out. War Lagoon’s going to meet me there. I know this goes without saying, but try not start any thunderstorms in here. Unless you’d like to come along, Kyra?”

“I’ll pass, Mortar,” Kyra said, “but thanks.”

She waited for the man to leave, but he was barely out the door when Judy spoke up. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out?”

“Of course I do, but I don’t want to leave you alone if I don’t have to. You know what, though? You need to go outside and see Paragon with your own eyes.”

“What about my condition?”

Kyra pulled out a small case and extracted the item within it. She showed the new necklace to Judy. “Here, put this on. I think we still have a drawer full of domino masks somewhere around here.”

“Yes, we do. What’s this necklace?”

“I went shopping this morning, and tracked down an old acquaintance of mine from my villain days. I know you’re not a summoned spirit from the umpteenth and a half dimension or whatever he said it was, but he said the gem on the bottom should still work for similar cases where someone is caught halfway between dimensions.”

“So you’re saying I’ll be able to wander around and live like an actual person with superpowers with this on?”

“I hope,” said Kyra. “I didn’t want Mortar to confiscate this to see how it works when we could skip to field testing. What do you say?”

“My kind of dangerous. I want to say yes, but my mom and Tatiana!” On cue, she received a message on the phone in her possession. She checked it.

“You can bring that with you, you know. I’m only asking you to come outside with me, smile a little, and maybe show off your powers if you’re able. I don’t want to jinx it by asking what’s the worst that can happen, but, actually, that’s exactly what I should be asking.”

Judy put on the necklace and tucked it under the shirt she was wearing. “Go get your costume.”

Mortar traveled—first by portal to get away from the mansion, and then by magic-fueled flight—beyond city limits to the northeast. The recorded scan had picked up an anomaly just within its range during the time window he was looking for. No, an anomaly wasn’t the right word for it, but a mere magic spell wasn’t it either.

What he saw was a special kind of magic that had no place in the mortal realm, and was frowned upon in the eternal one. That much, he was sure with a glance, but being a scientist meant testing that theory. Being a hero meant acting against it. Being the sole guardian between the realms meant both.

He spotted and joined War Lagoon mid-flight. They were moving fast. If it wasn’t for their earpieces, then communicating with mere words would have been difficult.

“Do I want to know what this is about?” War asked.

“I’m not sure even I want to,” said Mortar.

“That kind of answer isn’t going to work anymore, not with Judy being back with us. What aren’t you telling me?”

“Did anyone fill you in on what I said about the war four years ago?”

“I’ve heard bits and pieces. Most of it, I heard from you some time ago.”

“I suspect it’s all connected. I saw the work of powerful magic right there when viewing last night’s map. We need to check it out.”

“Why aren’t we bringing everyone else?” War Lagoon said.

“If anyone with enough magic power to burn a dried leaf showed up on the map when I called you and left the mansion, I would have called the others. Still, it’s better to be careful. This is urgent, and I’m thankful you came.”

“Yeah. Let’s check it out.”

They descended and found the top of a temple sticking out of the ground. Mortar Mage and War Lagoon searched the immediate area for an entrance and found it. They went down some stairs, finding hollowed crystals of various colors, and no light, poking out of the walls and steps at some places.

This place must have belonged to the Circle before the Dallevan League evicted them from the city. That was Mortar’s only guess, judging by the type of stone the temple was made out of and the types of crystals they passed.

If that were the case, then the crystals would have been lively and full not five months ago. They would have been assaulted by protective mages and spirits as well, if the Circle were still here.

It didn’t take too long to find what looked like the central chamber. It was dark, but there was no arguing about how massive the room was, or the vibes that came from how important it was to this temple. However, there was something uneasy about this room. More than that, Mortar needed to see the chamber in great detail.

He needed to know it all.

War Lagoon said, “Mortar? I don’t like this.”

Magic surrounded them suddenly. Mortar cast some illumination magic to light up the chamber. Groups of dark figures appeared, all matching Ohm Wires description of the grave diggers. Their tiki masks glowed red, orange, and violet now.

He felt his gut recoil. “Yeah, I have a bad feeling too.”

The masked figures jumped at the heroes.

-------------
Chapter 13
-------------

Fire and arcane energy erupted beyond Mortar Mage’s hands, and his partner produced shadow constructs and summoned dark tentacles too. They spent minutes blocking and striking down the masked figures. Some were fast, some were strong, and some just took
more hits to bring down than the others.

A couple faster ones managed to hit Mortar. He wouldn’t have been surprised if War Lagoon was hit as well.

The glowing stopped after the figures were knocked to the ground. The earth shook for a time. Mortar was uncertain if it was one of those odd quakes that only affected the magic temple, or if Paragon City felt it as a larger whole.

Either way, he walked to the stones set up in the middle of the dip in the ground to look like some sort of table, or an altar. He flipped the button on one side of one of his belt satchels, and pulled out a thin stick. Mortar carried a number of these, but rarely ever needed to use them on the field.

He pointed it at the altar from above and circled the stick to get a reading of the energies around this area of the room.

Sacrifice and human ash. Otherworldly energies. A focal point not seen by the human eye in so very long.

If there was an easy way to quantify these things, Mortar would have written it down right now. Instead, he elected to jot it down inside his mind.

“I don’t think anyone’s home, save for these guys,” said War Lagoon. “Something feels very wrong about them.”

“I wouldn’t recommend undoing their suits or masks,” said Mortar. “You might not like what you find under there, if my guess is right. Can you use your shadows to examine this temple for a workshop of some sort?”

“Do you plan to make something? Here?”

“No. I mean to confirm a suspicion without having to look at anything too grotesque. But, if it’s too much effort, I’ll peek under their masks myself.”

“This temple is big, but let me try to find what you’re asking.”

War Lagoon shut his eyes and stood for a moment. He convulsed in what Mortar could only assume was disgust.

“I found a room with an unlit furnace, some saws, metal staples like you would find for heavy duty stitching, and is that dried blood?” War’s eyes opened. “What the hell did we walk into?”

Just then, the tiki masks glowed again. The figures were on the rise, and their growls added to the dark depths of this place.

“Think we should get out of here?” War Lagoon asked.

“Actually, I think we need to start digging deeper,” Mortar responded, preparing to fight this wave of abominations all over again.

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

The second assault began.

There was a knock on her doorway. Mary looked up and saw Walter.

“Hi, Walter. No offense, but I’m busy with a couple of cases right now.”

“I was beginning to think that lunch might help you in your endeavors,” he said.

“No time for that, not unless you can miraculously get one of these parents to sit down with me for lunch.”

“Oh, trouble?”

“You could say that. Some parents are too far away, they say, to come here and hear about the fates of their missing children. Some want to live in denial that anything is wrong. And then there are two men here in Paragon who won’t give me the light of day unless I use brute force as a hero to bring them into custody, be it trumped charges or real ones. Then, on top of that, a number of heroes or villains who died four months ago had run away from home anywhere from overnight to fifteen years ago, and I’m having to organize their cases. I need help, and I can’t afford it unless I turn those cases into another charity, which takes time, money, and effort just to file.”

“Really? Well, that’s too bad. I have an appointment at the Aquamarine Pizzeria in Founder’s Creek, and was hoping you would be my plus-one. I could always use trusted backup when meeting a mob boss.”

“Which mob boss?”

“Vanni Rivano.”

The name caused Mary to shuffle through a stack of folders until she found the one she sought. It carried the Rivano name, and this was one of the two men she spoke of only a moment ago.

She rushed to the door and grabbed her things, ignoring the smile on Walter’s face. Among her things was a parasol built to take a beating.

“Walter,” she said, “I see your simple walking cane, and raise you a parasol. To lunch.”

Judy sent back another text message to her mom, saying she liked the pink, striped bra out of the three latest ones shown to her. Meanwhile, she ignored the curious glances she was getting from people on the sidewalks.

How many heroes went out in street clothes, nice ones even, and a simple mask?

She walked side-by-side with Ohm Wire, who was probably doing a better job keeping a lookout for crime they could intervene with since her folks weren’t texting her and expecting a response post-haste.

On the other hand, it was nice to finally walk around again for the first time after five years. Some buildings changed by merit of having been rebuilt in all that time. Some changed by way of businesses moving in and out. Every other structure was so familiar and alien at once, begging to be basked within.

Every deep breath she took, though filled with smells not worth mentioning in addition to the more pleasant ones, told her she was alive. She was back. No one was taking that away from her now, no matter if she could remember what had happened before or not.

“So far so good, right?” asked Ohm Wire.

Judy said, “Hm? Oh, yes. If nothing else, we found a way to keep me awake. I haven’t felt dizzy or drained since we left the house.”

Ohm wire smiled at her, and looked like she was about to say something else when they were interrupted at random by a passerby saying good job to her for beating some bad guys trying to bomb a liquor store.

“What was that about?” Judy asked her.

“It’s a long story,” Ohm Wire said. “About a month ago, someone was going around bombing businesses that sold things like alcohol, adult toys, and a bus depot. Some people were getting hurt, and I ended up leading a trio of smalltime heroes to take down the lunatics responsible.”

“Oh, now I remember. Wait, why do I remember that?”

“Joule Say-cot-suu?”

“Sigh.” Judy stopped in place. “Joule Saikatsu fifteen. Oh my god, but how? I was inside the system when that all happened.”

“I was hoping you would tell me. You’re the only person who ever calls me 'Ohmie.' That means, all this time, my informant, whose only sign of a personality was that nickname, was you. It means I owe some of my success and heroic redemption to the one person whose shadow I sometimes thought I was living in.”

“Now what?”

“Now I try real hard not to think about how weird I look about this in public. Good luck, right?”

“It could be worse. I could be a figment of your imagination.”

“I’m pretty sure seeing dead people started someone’s villainous career somewhere, resulting in a long line of bad plots and twists.”

“Good thing I’m not dead.”

“It’s a good thing I don’t make movies.”

They smiled at one another and continued walking through Talos. It wasn’t long after that that they heard someone screaming for trouble, and both Ohm Wire and Judy went running.

They passed a few corners and traffic to reach a gym where a giant, inflated balloon of its gorilla mascot was standing out front. Judy spotted a trio of masked thugs with guns inside the gym. The trio had a hostage; everyone else was fleeing the scene.

One of them shouted outside, “Nobody try any funny business, or the cheating bimbo gets it!”

The abominations fell at War Lagoon’s feet, and the temple shook, for the third time now. He looked over by his friend, and saw that Mortar’s hands were glowing with arcane energy.

“Come on,” Mortar Mage said. He repeated himself multiple times.

The temple jolted again. This time, something broke through the altar. War Lagoon couldn’t see what it was, but he suspected that this was what Mortar was looking for. The temple rattled and roared as the elongated object seemed to grow.

“Almost there,” Mortar said.

Meanwhile, at that second, the abominations’ masks glowed again. How many times did War and Mortar need to knock them down?

War Lagoon was starting to feel like they were inside of a monster instead of a temple, and the object coming out of the ground looked like a jagged fang between its shape and pearl color. He prepared to fight the abominations again when he saw Mortar place a hand on the abnormal object.

“Duck!” Mortar yelled out.

However, War Lagoon realized what he said only a second too late. The chamber filled up with an explosion.

Ohm Wire wasn’t sure if her legs were trembling or if the ground was vibrating. All she knew was that both she and Judy needed to do something. Maybe if she used her faux invisibility? Oh, but the doors were closed and any idiot would notice them opening.
She couldn’t ask Judy to enter the gym by exiting the front desk’s computers, because no one knew yet, even with that necklace, if Judy could handle the trip. She wasn’t sure how Judy could get from here to those computers, either.

Then a blaze of static and light caught the corner of her eye. In a flash, Judy disappeared, leaving behind the phone and necklace as they fell to the ground where she once stood.

Most people backed away from where Judy had been. Ohm Wire took a step closer.

“Oh no.”

-------------
Chapter 14
-------------

Diamond Grace stepped out of the cheap hotel with her costume on. She had invited her new lover to come with her as she explored the city and did some good in it. He declined, leaving her to see the heroic life for herself. There had to be something to it if her sister had been enjoying it all this time, even if Diamond Grace disagreed with having these powers.

She walked eastward after settling on a random direction. She tried to push thoughts of her sister and their powers out of her mind. Today was going to be about doing some good. That was what she told herself.

Then she wondered how so many heroes around this massive city managed to be in the right place at the right time.

Being frisked as a man had been uncomfortable enough. This was Mary’s first time being patted down as a woman, and suddenly she understood the dangers and concerns more than she’d ever thought she would be aware.

The cane and parasol were checked, presumably, for any sign of blades or ammunition. When one of the men checking them out turned again to Mary, she promised silently to herself that if they patted her down one more time then she was beating these men to a bloody pulp.

However, they only handed her back her parasol, and Walter his cane, before the two of them were guided to an outdoor table where a single man in a tailored suit was sitting and relaxing, if looking displeased with the world was by any means relaxing.

Maryann and Walter sat on the side opposite to the man without waiting for him to say anything.

“Please, be seated,” said Vanni Rivanno. “Well? I don’t mind a good lunch, but I have better things to do than find myself at anyone’s beck and call.”

“Beck and call?” Mary said. “I somehow doubt it was that easy.”

“Indeed. Someone put a stranglehold on a few of my assets, with a message attached. It said to meet here at one, sharp, or find my assets in worse stock. I do not take kindly to threats, especially not when a rival family is on the rise. They need to be quashed, along with their new muscle that’s in town. The Banker, he’s called. You might find it beneficial to go after their lot rather than pester me.”

Walter said, “No, I think we have the right person before us now. This family you wish to be dealt with is no mob family, no opposition to be dealt with. They are merely a legitimate business trying to get off the ground.”

“I have heard this tune before. My father heard it before me; he invented this ruse.”

“Let me assure you that it is no ruse. Your only competition is your shadow, and whatever wet spots you leave in the bed at night while you cozy up next to—“

Vanni pounded the table with a fist. “I do not . . . ! Do not insult me. I have had bigger men removed for less.”

“For being bigger than you, certainly.”

Mary held in a sigh as Walter continued to provoke the mob boss whose territory covered from Founder’s Creek to Steel Canyon, despite the law’s best efforts or villainy’s greatest examples of harassment. Vanni was fuming now.

Judy shot out of the computer, hoping to get her trajectory right. She hadn’t done anything like this in too long. For a brief moment, she felt fully alive.

She collided immediately with one of the three thugs, bringing as much juice as she could in that tackle. Then, the world spun, and she was too tired. She heard a gun being aimed nearby, possibly at her, but her senses wavering. She grasped at her chest.

No, the necklace was gone. Where was it?

There was shouting, and then a grunt, before one man fell. Judy focused on the world before her, focused on staying awake with deep breaths, and saw Ohm Wire strike down the third thug.

Ohm Wire ran to Judy and the other woman. “Take my hands, both of you. Let’s go.”

With the help she got from her friend, Judy sprinted awkwardly to the front door while the thugs worked to get up again. She heard a gunshot, but all three women made it out of the building. The civilian they helped ran the rest of the way into the safety of the police and another hero who had arrived. Ohm Wire guided Judy off to the side.

“Here,” Ohm Wire said, handing Judy the necklace and the phone.

Judy slipped the necklace back on. The whole world around her felt lighter. The light was less blinding or nauseating. It was like she could suddenly remember where she was, and that there was a thing called breath.

“Look out!” Ohm Wire cried out, and she grabbed Judy with enough force that they tumbled past the legs of the gorilla balloon.

There were a number of gunshots. Judy was too busy between her vertigo and trying to hang on to her necklace and phone so that they didn’t fall again, so she wasn’t sure exactly how many shots there were.

When the other hero on the scene took down the gunman, Judy looked up to find that the balloon had come loose due to the thug’s poor aim. She jumped up to catch it just to keep it from flying away; there was no telling where it would have landed otherwise.

Her slim body wasn’t enough to weigh it down. How much air did they put in this thing? She felt someone grab onto her legs. Judy looked down to find Ohm Wire. Then she heard a car screeching, or something similar that was larger.

Everyone below was running out of the way, and for good reason. An unloaded rig was swerving around the next corner. It was moving fast, and the balloon was almost on top of it.

When the smoke cleared War Lagoon found that the enormous fang was gone and that the abominations were no longer in his immediate surroundings. He turned to find the dozen of them huddled in the far side of the chamber, without any sign of glowing or movement. The dust that covered them looks more like ash, and their outfits were torn.

Back at where the fang used to be, Mortar Mage stood up coughing and dusting himself off.

“Crap,” Mortar said. “Not good, not good, not good!”

Arcane energy lit his feet again, and Mortar took off flying through an opening in the ceiling that War Lagoon was just now processing inside his head. War tried calling after his friend, but he knew it was useless.

War Lagoon took another good look at the sad state of this chamber.

“That’s just great.”

Mortar Mage flew as fast as he could. He pushed harder and harder still. He had to catch that crystal beacon before it hit someone, or something, and did irreversible damage. He wished he was right about the crystals all being lifeless earlier. He wished that this white object flying into Paragon had gone with the temple’s previous owners.

Wishing wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

He grabbed the beacon and pulled himself forward until his rear end touched down on the object. Mortar saw that the numerous skyscrapers of Talos were dangerously close. It was time to go to work bringing this thing down safely while also studying it if time allowed.

So many thoughts and ideas entered his mind. It was hard not to feel giddy like a schoolboy upon a toy horse, but now was not the time.

Oh, who was he kidding?

Doctor Wyatt Brooke stood by his patient, age eleven, who was refusing to accept the shot that needed to be administered, by order of the kid’s parents and school alike. Wyatt didn’t blame the kid. Who in the right mind liked being penetrated by a needle?
It was a simple flu shot. Wyatt had to give countless numbers of these every year around this time, and some patients were more resistant to the idea than others. This young boy crossed his arms, and refused to even be entertained by his once-favorite, now-traitorous doctor, no matter what tricks Wyatt utilized.

Wyatt had more tricks, but it was starting to look like he might have to use the one. He refused to use his power on children if he could help it.

Right then, as Wyatt was beginning another attempt at winning the boy’s heart over again, he felt Warren’s mental presence. It was moving fast, it was enjoying itself, and it was right outside the window.

A streak of pearly white, and something red and small on top, passed the corner of Wyatt’s eye. Wyatt’s patient, who was staring grumpily out the window suddenly let his mouth and arms drop.

It was now or never.

Perhaps it would be easier to make the kid think he won, and that his arm felt a little funny by sheer coincidence. Meanwhile, on the other hand, Wyatt resisted the urge to smile and shake his head at his friend who had passed by the hospital.

Judy and Ohm Wire managed to fling themselves onto the gorilla balloon’s back before it collided with the side of the passing truck. The inflated beast waved in the air for a moment and steadied. Judy thought they were in the clear to land safely on the other side until the balloon yanked backward and flipped around.
Both girls fell onto the truck while the balloon slipped away and stuck to the rear, with the faux gorilla’s front facing the vehicle and its arms in the air like it had been designed to be furious or amped up at all times.

She grimaced and looked forward. There were a hero and villain back here who had been in the middle of a fist fight when they got temporarily distracted by the balloon and the girls. Both men resumed their fighting, and the truck swerved again. The girls held on to their limited footing as it did.

Ohm Wire said, “Why aren’t we stopping?”

The supposed hero said in a German accent, “The brakes are busted, and there’s a bomb!”

“Get out?”

“Nobody’s stopping me this time,” the villain said.

Something roared in the sky above. It sounded unlike any jet, or even any alien craft, that Judy heard before in her lives. Yet it seemed to be coming closer and closer as if on a collision course with the truck.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” she said. The heroine fell forward out of instinct to get out of the way, and then the phone she carried rang. “Or that.”

Another costumed person boarded the vehicle. The older woman pointed. “Ohm Wire! Prepare to meet your doom!”

-------------
Chapter 15
-------------

Mai was in the process of gingerly tearing a corner of her ketchup packet when Tatiana sat down with a tray of food across the table from her. They were in the food court in the mall having lunch, and Tatiana had unsurprisingly grabbed enough food for two people. Mai remembered the feeling from two decades ago.

“Still no word back from her?” Mai asked.

“Nope,” said Tatiana. “Maybe she fell asleep again.”

“Possibly. If that turns out to be the case, then I guess we can skip the last place we had planned for today.”

“I suppose. Wait, the last one planned.”

“What?”

“Let’s spend the rest of our day at the spa. It’ll be great.”

“You’re kidding, right? Although, I suppose it’s been a while, and I could use a good foot massage.”

“Eh?” Tatiana was incorrigible, like everyone else was in that supergroup. Maybe that was part of why Judy spent so much time with them.

Someone turned up the speakers on the nearby television screens. Mai could see why. A truck with a giant gorilla attached to the back passed in the distance behind a reporter, whose attention was pointed in its direction a second later. Meanwhile, there was something else moving in the distance. It was large and white, but it was no cloud.

“Paragon City is at it again,” Mai said.

Finally, a text message came.

Ohm Wire and Bucht tag-teamed against the two villains they now fought on the back of the truck. She couldn’t remember which villain this was who wanted her dead, but she fought anyways.

Meanwhile, Judy sent a message to Mai and was now looking for a way to take a good look at the bomb beneath them.

The villain who had come after her was a terrible fighter, even as her limbs turned into mud that flowed around Ohm Wire. This was made worse for the villain when the mud dried instantly, because streams of water came out of it and entered the vicinity of Bucht’s control.

“Yeah,” Ohm Wire said, “smart. I don’t think fighting dirty will get you anywhere.”

Watching the villain scramble to reattach parts of herself should have been too grotesque, but Ohm Wire found herself wanting to laugh at the villain before she and Bucht switched off their opponents again.

There was a ringing sound while they fought. Ohm Wire ignored it. She hoped it wasn’t the bomb. She saw the wet spot on the other villain’s chest, and she prepared an electric punch that she aimed straight for that spot.

“Everyone shut up a second!” a girl shouted.

Ohm Wire’s fist stopped inches from that wet spot. Everyone stopped moving to look at Judy, who was answering her phone.

“Yes, Mom? Yeah, I’m taking a walk outside. No, I’m fine. Ugh, Mom . . . Yes, Mom. Yes, Mom.”

The heroes and villains eyed one another while she repeated herself a few more times.

“Shit. I’ll be right back. Call you later.” Judy hung up. “Duck!” She dropped.

A sound akin to a jet engine on drugs—at least that was the best Ohm Wire could come up with—boomed above the truck again. She could see its source this time, and Ohm Wire did as Judy suggested.

The truck moved quickly to the left.

He couldn’t hold on much longer, and Mortar could see that the beacon was on its way to colliding with something mildly ridiculous from behind. He swung his arms from side to side, hoping to get the attention of whomever was driving that truck.

“Get out of the way! Get out of the way!”

The truck was moving, but he wasn’t sure it was because of anything he did.

Mortar Mage got on his feet and tried to steady himself. This was going to be a tricky landing with or without the use of magic, and he didn’t bring any gadgets to help with this matter. The object passed some costumed figures before the front tip broke through the back of the truck’s cabin.

His attempt to grab the top edge of the truck wasn’t as successful as he had hoped. He would have called it a failure if it didn’t at least slow him down. Mortar Mage slid back onto the front end of the pearly white beacon, and then toppled over to his right and caught the bottom of the windshield with his hands, his legs struggling to stay on the object.

“Dock?” he said, recognizing the driver.

Vanni smacked the table and got up.

“I show you more kindness than you have any right to have, and this is how you repay me?” he said. “I should have you both removed for this out . . . rage . . .”

There was a sound at first, and then the unbelievable sight of something large coming straight for the pizzeria. No one sitting out here had any escape unless they were fast enough to jump into the sea behind him.

Once the object had passed overhead and crashed into the passenger side of the truck, Ohm Wire got up and rushed the villain who had come for her. She spun around with her dance training, and kicked with all the spite she’d learned as a teenager.

She sent the villain flying into a cart selling produce on the sidewalk. It might have been leafy greens, and the owner might have been screaming something. Ohm Wire couldn’t tell at this point. She had more important things on her mind at the moment.

However, another villain—one wearing a mechanical power suit—landed feet-first on the roof of the truck’s cabin.

“Ah, Mortar Mage,” said the new villain in a triumphant tone. The metallic filter in his voice was apparent from where Ohm Wire was crouching. “Remember me?”

Mortar, who was exerting himself at this point to stay on the roof of the truck, said, "No, not really." His reply resulted in a growl from the armored villain.

The first villain was fighting Bucht again, and the hero wasn’t doing too well without his element. Ohm Wire looked both ways trying to decide which villain to deal with.

Behind them all, sirens blared as police vehicles strove to keep up with the gorilla and truck both. How was that thing even staying where it was?

Suddenly, the villain in the power suit flew backward and skidded against the surface that seemingly everyone was standing on. War Lagoon touched down. He remained focused on the villain, who was getting back up.

“Some party,” War Lagoon said.

“Uh, guys?” called Mortar.

Dock shouted, “We’re going to crash!”

It was then Ohm Wire realized that they were going downhill toward a gated patio area belonging to a restaurant. She braced herself.

Mary heard the truck before she saw it. She heard someone say, “War, brake right. Now!” There was a sudden appearance of a dark tentacle on one side, and the truck swung around the corner at the last possible second to continue along the next street. It took several costumed people and a balloon with it.

“That looks fun,” Mary remarked.

A cop car crashed into the far corner up the street, and more were piling up, leaving the truck and everyone on it for the time being.

Vanni’s eye was twitching nervously at this point, no doubt caught somewhere between his ongoing anger with Walter and the brush he just had with death.

Now that he had more control over his momentum, Mortar Mage flew over the roof of the truck and landed on the other side where the fighting was going on. He helped Judy up to her feet.

“Mortar, I . . .” she began

“Never mind, never mind,” Mortar Mage said, trying to console her for whatever ordeal she was going through rather than berate her for going against a doctor's orders. “We can talk about it later.”

“There’s a bomb under here. It’s timed to go off in two minutes.”

Dock honked the truck’s horn and yelled for people to get out of the street.

“Ah,” Mortar said. Then the pearly beacon glowed. If he was right about what this thing was then that was a bad sign, made even worse if the bomb went off with it full of energy. He crouched to try taking care of the bomb.

An explosion went off then. It took Mortar Mage a second to realize that it wasn’t the truck, and another to see an additional explosion in the street. They were going off like plumes more than anything. He looked ahead.

There was a man ahead on the road. His hand rested on the pavement, his teeth were bare, and there was a sickly, yellow light drawing lines up the man’s arms.

The truck was going to run him over if the man didn’t knock it over first, or set off the bomb trying.

Ohm Wire said, “I’d ask if the whole city’s gone completely mental, but I think that’s kind of obvious.”

A third explosion came, and then a fourth.

While they didn’t have long, Mortar scanned the surroundings and saw a fire hydrant further up the road from the fool who was trying to kill them all.

“Bucht!” Mortar called. “Get ready.”

“Get ready for what?” the exhausted hero asked. The next second, one of the villains got a good hit in on him using a left hook engulfed in flames.

“Judy and Ohm Wire, take care of the villain he’s fighting.”

War Lagoon was already fighting the one in the power suit, and they were close to even when it came to combat. War was using his powers to contain the laser blasts from the suit.

Mortar Mage turned again used a concentrated fire spell to cleave the side of the fire hydrant. He hoped that Bucht could catch on quick. When the fifth and sixth explosions went off, water shot out from the hydrant.

Bucht reached over the top of the truck then, and his arms directed the flow of the water. It knocked the man off of the street with ease, and the water then arched over the truck in time for the vehicle to pass under it, safe from the massive pressure. The jet of water swung inward at precisely the right time to strike the suited villain and yank him off of the truck. Mortar’s last vision of the villain was the water pinning him down against the sidewalk before the hydrant fell out of Bucht’s range.

It was then that Mortar dropped down and used his magic to temporarily dissect the truck while the girls finished apprehending the last villain aboard the truck. He needed a better view and access to the device underneath, and the short-range portal he made was perfect for what he was trying to do.

He found the bomb. Twenty seconds remained.

At least it looked like a simple disarm. Mortar Mage reached in and worked to undo the bomb. He was two whole wires from being done with it when he heard Dock shout:

“Whoa, shit! Hold on, everyone!”

The truck swerved and turned in several directions, and the ride was only getting bumpier as the clock wound down ever closer to zero. It was do or die.

“Look,” Maryann said, “if the two of you could both sit down and stop acting like little boys who are comparing dick sizes, we all came here for good reason.”

“I have a business to run,” said Vanni, turning his gaze to Mary, but still standing.

“So I’ve noticed. Here.” She dug through her tote bag and grabbed the folder that Mary had brought with her for this occasion. Then she slapped it down against the table surface.

“What is this? Some sort of blackmail?”

“This is your son, Mr. Rivano.”

“My son? What have you done with my son?”

He flipped open the folder and examined the photographs and papers. His expression, wedged between angry and indignant, shifted with every page.

Mary asked, “Did you never even notice he was gone?”

Vanni said, “He was a big boy. He could take care of himself. My son often went on excursions and got out of trouble in the end. What is this about him being some sort of costumed hero? Where is he now?”

“Four months ago, many young men and women dropped from the sky. Until four months ago, he fought against crime wherever he went. There was such a mass influx of patients being teleported from danger into hospital care for heroes, but he didn’t make it from the outer range of the field. He was among the first to be identified, and I have been trying since I heard about his case to contact you.”

“If this is the least bit true, then this should have come to me sooner.” His voice cracked and still boiled with anger, but it was calmer now.

“Yes, it should have.” She stared at the mob boss in the eye. There were no more lies to be told here today, and no amount of intimidation that could make her step down from finally getting this truth out to the right person.

The mob boss fell in his chair. “How could it have come to this? How could anything you tell me be true?”

“Inside that folder, you will find the original copy of the letter he was working on, that was meant for you.” Every line and scribble was there. Every sign of a rough draft mixed with emotion poured from it. “It was found inside his costume when he was examined. You will also find details of his deeds. The media was never told for fear of how they would treat it. Your people were contacted time and again, but to no avail because you did not wish to be disturbed.”

“Mary,” said Walter.

“You have a business to run, I get it. But—“

“My own children should have come first,” Vanni said. “Now I have only my business, and someone wants to take that away.”

Walter said, “Mr. Rivano, no one wants to take away the services you provide. It’s not the 1920s, nor the time when your family took over. You can let a man follow his dream to be a protector of those he cares about. You don’t need to draw lines in the sand to make others show their respect.”

“No. No, I don’t suppose it works that way.” Vanni closed the folder. He stood up again and took the folder. “Thank you for bringing this to me. You don’t mind if I take this, do you?”

“It’s your copy,” said Mary.

Vanni nodded. He turned to the main building with a smile and back away from it. “This is a good place. Order whatever you like. It’s on me. I think I have a fundraiser to attend tonight. Come on, boys.” He departed from their luncheon, trembling and clearly resisting a good cry.

“Thank you, Walter. I don’t know how you arranged this, but thank you.”

Walter repositioned himself as one of the servers approached, so now he was opposite to Mary. “I listen. I saw an opportunity, and remembered that I listen.”

-------------
Chapter 16
-------------

By some miracle in disguise, Diamond Grace passed a man watching a video on his phone at full volume. She had always been annoyed by people who turned up their phones all the way for any reason; where was their sense of privacy? This time, however, she overheard the video and discovered that it was the local news. It pointed her to the center of the district she was currently in.

She could follow that, she thought. It seemed more doable than street names for a city she hadn’t lived in long enough. So she hurried in the direction she thought was right. She knew that major landmarks were where people tended to gather more often than not, and if the runaway . . . thing out there was going to draw near a crowd, it would cause a panic or worse.

There was a town square with a fountain in each of its corners, and a larger structure in the middle from which the major streets could be seen. Sure enough, there were a ton of people all around the area. They either didn’t know nor paid any mind to the thing that was coming, if the news was right.

Suddenly, screeching could be heard in the distance. Then came the honking of a loud horn. Diamond Grace saw the oddity coming. She shouted for everyone to move while she grew a suit of ice armor and lunged at the vehicle barreling their way. The next few seconds were a blur, but she remembered either hitting something, or something hitting her.

Diamond Grace fell on her ice-clad butt, and feared that what she did was not enough. However, the truck finally stopped, and not a moment too soon. Just another second, and she would have been flattened. Two or three more seconds, and so would the important looking monument in the middle of Founder’s Creek.

She breathed heavy. She steadied it by force of will.

During that time, a man on a cell phone passed by, talking aloud. “Yeah, I’m fine. Did I ever tell you about the time Pixeletta led some heroes in saving a parade from a strange new villain?” He was gone in seconds. His timing was odd, Diamond Grace thought.

Then a young woman sprang up on the back of the truck. “That was awesome! Who wants to do that again?”

Diamond Grace groaned and let her upper body drop before her ice armor shattered. There was some arguing—something about one man trying to get to safety, a bomb, and taking a few wrong turns—but it was all beyond her that moment. Life in this city was far more overwhelming than she had imagined, and her brother . . . her sister made it sound like a daily walk in the park.

A soft shadow passed over her. Diamond Grace opened an eye to find that young woman from a moment earlier. “Are you alright?” she asked.

“I will be,” Diamond Grace said.

“I’m glad. Mary will be too, both that you tried to help and that you’re safe.”

“How do you know Mary?”

“It’s a long story. Here, let me help you up.” The young woman offered a hand, and Diamond Grace accepted. “My name’s Judy.”

“Mine’s Ja . . . I mean, Diamond Grace.”

“Yes. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

Ohm Wire walked up to them then. Diamond Grace looked at the crowd by the truck, and saw Mortar Mage and War Lagoon standing with a couple other costumed men she did not recognize. Another costumed figure was being escorted away by the police.

She knew now that she was among friends, though staying here meant living in their shadow. Diamond Grace still didn’t know if it was right to try to outshine it, to make a name for herself elsewhere, or what she was going to do. Right now, none of that mattered.

Judy suddenly looked shocked. She was looking past Diamond Grace and in the general direction of the monument Diamond Grace had helped to save from the massive vehicle.

Diamond Grace looked back and found a number of people, but only one wasn’t fooling around with a phone or camera, or gabbing with the others. The same woman, who wore a cloth to cover half of her hair, took a few steps forward. The officer closest to her tried to stop the woman.

“Wait, let her through,” said Judy as she pushed past. It was enough for the officer to let the one woman through the line of people. “It’s you.”

The mysterious woman said, “Yes. Welcome back to the living.”

Devon examined the bookshelves that he had seen so many times since moving to Paragon City. He assured Vidnyanta that he had already seen everything here, but she told him there was yet one book here he did not see. Strange was how she said the book existed, but she did not know its contents.

Here they were, Devon and these so-called gods whose names he never heard before, along with a few of their countless minions, at the largest public library in the city. The sun was just past setting, and the library was otherwise empty.

That was an early time to close for a Friday.

Nervaeus dropped a book on top of the table where Vidnyanta sat. He turned away and walked off into some unknown part of the library as far as Devon was concerned. He had no idea what the man’s problem was, and he didn’t care.

“Here, Devon. Come take a look.,” Vidnyanta said. That creepy mask of hers still gave Devon the shivers.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It is a written record with entries from the late 1800s, by your recollection, and four years ago. There were more like it by the same family, but none of them relevant to your interests I don’t think, not unless you seek dealings with city politics and the activities of the Hobbs family, who were close allies to the keepers of these records.”

“You know a lot about these records.”

“I know a lot about most things. Unlike some fools who ignore certain . . . holes . . . and claim to see everything, I recognize those gaps in what I know. I do not like having the unknown beyond my grasp where it might strike and prevent me from doing what I will. No matter. This book is one that interests us both. Once you know its contents, I shall learn of them myself.”

“Pardon my saying so, but it strikes me as odd that you would have the others here with us. I also thought you wanted me to stay at that temple.”

“The temple was doomed to be compromised. I foresaw it. It will have been trashed by now, its purpose fulfilled. I can only hope the minions left behind did their job against the one I have trouble seeing. He escapes my sight, just as the future does mere days from now.”

“Days from now?”

“Don’t you worry about that. You have a book to read by two writers over multiple periods. Let the world outside burn on its own for tonight. It won’t matter when the time comes. The flames now are a mere hearth to the inferno we bring.”

“So you keep telling me. Very well.”

He took the book and found a comfortable place to read. It was going to be a long night.

Judy was glad that Warren and Jeff weren’t too hard on her or Kyra for her going out, or for using the necklace behind everyone’s back, but she should have seen it coming when her mom and Tatiana practically squeezed the life out of her with a single hug. That was probably when she received the most endearing berating in the history of the universe from both of the older women.

That was it, everybody, go home; or so it seemed without their new guest.

The afternoon was getting on, and the Dallevan League, plus Judy’s mom and Jackie, sat around the lounge facing the woman who sat in a comfortable chair with a cup of tea.

Her name was Halah. “Everyone is finally here,” she said. “It has been a long time since I’ve seen most of you in the flesh.”

Walter said, “Six years, and there were seven of us then.”

“You hadn’t met your eighth yet.” She nodded to Kyra. “Two of you are important as well, but not of the eight I saw that day. Eight of you cast shadows leading from before we met until next Monday morning. I saw these shadows since my awakening.”

Everyone was as quiet as Judy was apprehensive all of a sudden. What was supposed to happen Monday morning?

“I don’t know what happens. I doubt anyone does. It’s like a gleam of light beneath a black door in a dark, rainy night. Tell me, Judy, do you remember what I said to you during the mass invasion those years ago?”

Judy said, “You had told me something about choices we all had to make.”

“You all did then, and everyone does now. The eight of you will impact what we see beyond that door, if we are lucky enough to see it at all. It frightens me more than anything.”

“You knew my baby girl was going to die,” said Judy’s mom.

“I did not know for sure. As I said, there were choices. She made hers, and I cried when I heard that she paid the price for it. I cried for her soul and her loss, and again for what it could have meant for the few days ahead. There were gaps then, and discord, before I saw her shadow again, but it was always there. I could hardly understand it, but it was meant to continue for these few days before everyone’s shadow suddenly stopped. She’s not the only one.”

Halah looked in Warren’s direction. “Yours torments me most of all. It weaves in and out of time as we know it. When I look at your shadow I cannot see you as I can anyone else. Yet, here you are before us.”

War Lagoon said, “This talk of shadows is unnerving, even for me.”

“The unknown does that. It’s why our kindred were feared and despised like the other two.”

“Other two?”

“The Demon Thorn, and a group of banished gods you’ve only begun to meet.”

Warren said, “The Circle and the Vanquishiri Bahitians, you mean?

“The same,” Halah said. “You know their name?”

“I know they shouldn’t be here. But, what’s this about a kindred?”

“You mean Jeff never told you? The source of his power is the same as mine. Our powers hail from the Sillinisu, or ‘Shadow Kin.’”

Most of everyone was staring at Jeff now. Jackie was staring blankly into whatever was in front of her, and Judy reached out to comfort her. This was all far beyond anything Jackie thought she was ready for, Judy imagined as she caught a glimpse of the woman's expression. It was a lot for her as well.

Walter, Judy noticed, didn’t look the least bit surprised at the revelation about Jeff’s powers. Intrigued, perhaps, but not surprised.

Jeff said, “I swore to help people with it. It was a promise they were happy to hold me to. It’s not like I can just go around saying I do this for an entity locked away by the people they’d sworn to protect ages ago.”

Halah said, “It was they who advised that I come to this country and watch over the forces of good and evil, and help those whose shadows were shorter than the rest, to give them comfort or direction where they might best know peace. When I saw your shadows, bound to converge by this time, I had to see for myself. All shadows fade and run out, but the eight of you, and all you care for, will mean the difference between life and oblivion.”

Kyra said, "You mentioned seeing our shadows upon your awakening. What did you mean by that?"

"A few months after Jeff and his friend left for home, I was given my abilities by the same people who bestowed Jeff with his own powers. I saw so much that I needed time to fully awaken to them and walk among mankind again. Your eight shadows were among the first that I saw. Your eight shadows were so strong, so right, so ready to change the world. Our kin charged me with my mission for when I was ready, but I slipped away too soon. For months still I must have seemed like I was out of my mind from substance abuse or worse. I still had to come. I still had to come and meet you all."

"What can we do to save the world?"

"I do not know. The door I alluded to is closed, and I know not the outcome. I know only that you have choices before you great and terrible. These are the choices that will decide if the universe remains to see another Monday or beyond."

Warren, who stood up straight, said, "The universe will exist. It has to. I have seen into the end of everything."

"Have you the sight? Have you seen beyond next week?"

"Neither of those. There was a war beyond mortal eyes, and yet it affected this world. I was among the gods in their realm when I saw it. It's shape folded and renewed to something else in moments, I thought. What I saw was reality shifting, my own eyes and mind bending to comprehend it as time and matter ceased around a single point. You say our choices will decide the outcome in a few days, but every choice made is a million bends or more around oblivion. If this door opens, as you say, and this point is behind it, then this conversation neither mattered nor happened. The universe won't just end. It simply will not be. So, you see, there's no way what you say can be right, Vanquishiri Bahitians or otherwise be damned."

"Then this is a fate that we must all avoid. Make your choices, the best ones you can. Make the best choices you can so that any of this will matter."

When Halah had left, Mary took her sister with her to another room to comfort her from a state of trauma. The talk of demons, multiple gods, benevolent beings of shadow, and a potential apocalypse must have caused her to shut down. Kyra could only guess.

Warren was examining a shard of the pearly white crystal in the garage, which had been enchanted several times to safeguard against explosions.

Everyone else was sitting around the main living room like a social circle, but they were silent. Judy looked to be dozing off in her mother’s arms.

Knowing Walter, he was planning everything in his head as to what to do next, with or without any pieces of a puzzle offered by whatever Warren discovered. Kyra wanted to offer something, anything, but ideas weren’t her strong suit. Sarcasm, yes, but not ideas.

Silence was broken abruptly when the emergency radio received a broadcast meant for all heroes. There was a major disturbance at The Asylum, a high security facility for the most dangerous metahumans.

Those who heard it groaned. As if it wasn’t already a long day.

Wyatt got up. When Tatiana grabbed his arm, he said, “I don’t know about you guys, but I can do with a little kicking butt. It’s OK, love, I promise to stay safe and only provide my healing. I’ll be home when I’m done.”

“I know,” said Tatiana, “but still. Be safe.”

He kissed her, once on the lips and again on the forehead, patted her belly softly with one hand, and left the room to change into his hero costume.

As tired as Kyra was, she was considering whether or not to go with him. While she thought about it, Kyra went upstairs and followed the sounds of a woman sobbing. She turned into a guest room, and saw Jackie crying into Mary’s shoulder, as well as Mary rocking her. No, this was where Kyra needed to be tonight.

She sat on the bed and leaned her head on Jackie.

-------------
Chapter 17
-------------

The sun had barely risen when Mortar Mage left the mansion. Mary followed from a distance. She had been curious about that man for some time, and her gut told her that he went somewhere that Mary had never known before.

If it was home, and she saw nothing suspicious, then of course she would turn back and go somewhere else.

However, she soon found herself in Siren’s Gauntlet, and suddenly doubted that Mortar was heading home, least of all in his hero costume. Mary followed him to a building wedged in the corner of the district. The building was unmarked save for its address. It wasn’t built like any residence, as were most of the poorly maintained structures in this district.

She didn’t normally care about Mortar Mage’s personal affairs, but Mary had reason to get involved now. Everything Mortar had said lately about a war, what Halah had said about Mortar’s shadow, made Mary think there was something important that the man was still hiding.

Once Mortar had entered the building, Mary waited a moment before walking up to it and knocking on the door.

“I don’t want any cookies, thank you!” came his voice from within.

Mary said, “That’s not until February, Mortar. It’s me.”

Seconds passed, and the door opened with banging sound. Mortar Mage looked at Mary with a curious look on his face. Then he stepped aside and let her in. The interior was that of a laboratory with low lighting in most places, from what she could tell at the entrance.

“Welcome, I guess,” Mortar Mage said while walking deeper inside. “You’re now the third person who knows I come here.”

“This isn’t where your magazine is printed, then?” Mary said. She entered the next room, and the one after that, while taking in the sights.

“Not even a data printer for a calculator from the 70s.”

“There’s some high tech stuff here, though.”

She stopped in a room with computer consoles that made up a circular pattern in the middle, and tubes decorated the walls at even intervals. Mary looked inside the tubes and found people with similar, familiar features sleeping without any sign of motion. The tubes all had signs at the top with serial numbers and the word “Model” on them.

One tube had a woman in it. Mary recognized her, and the others, before seeing the sign above her where the number had been crossed out and a name was written in its stead.

“Toyenna,” said Mary. “These are all androids.”

“They’re more than that,” Mortar said as he was setting something up by one of the consoles.

“What is this?”

“It’s a terribly long story. To make that story as short as possible, they were built to terrorize everyone, regardless of what dimensional realm we live in, but something happened with one of them. The others eventually learned of her and aimed to destroy her if she could not be fixed. She agreed to a plan—the only one we had—to use their combined power to create a seal. She baited them to this place, and now they stand between us and something that would make The Event look like a cute puppy trying to bite at you playfully.”

“Something?”

“The literal end of the universe, out of phase with our own time.”

“That sounds like it could be important.”

“You might be right. This is the biggest project I’ve been working on for the last four years. I’ve been maintaining the equipment and trying to upgrade some of it as safely as possible. If they awaken or if any one thing goes wrong, we’d be worse than dead; we’d be nothing without past, future, or meaning. However, I’ve been running calculations and upgrades in hopes that I can at least awaken Tawnya without disturbing the balance.”

“Warren.”

“But enough about me, or her. How is your sister doing?”

“She’s sleeping finally. Jackie needs time to adjust.”

“And what about you?”

“I’m OK, I guess.”

“Liar.”

“You do know I can kick your butt.” Mary looked at him plainly, and Mortar only laughed. “I’ve been having nightmares lately, and feelings.”

“Oh? What kind of nightmares?”

“I’ve been dreaming that my succubus self has been coming back. It scares me, Mortar. I’ve been getting closer and closer to losing myself to feelings that I can’t even deal with. I feel like, at any moment, I might harm or kill again because I can’t control it for long.”

Mortar beckoned with his fingers, and pointed to a circle on the ground. Mary walked into it warily, and saw Mortar walk to another computer. Seconds later, a nervous Mary heard some clicking and beeping.

Then her feet lifted off the ground, and a column of light engulfed her floating body.

A projection appeared between Mary and Mortar Mage, which showed a female body. A bar of static ran down the projection, and it changed to reflect various systems.

“As you can see,” said Mortar, “you’re quite human, albeit one mutated to a point that allows you to compensate for ice powers, super strength, and accelerated reflexes. I may not be a doctor of medicine, but I see nothing wrong with you. You’re a perfectly healthy young woman.”

“What about my feelings? My urges?”

“What part of ‘perfectly healthy’ did you miss? It’s normal to have feelings, though mileage may vary from person to person. There’s no shame in having them. Maybe you should communicate this with Kyra?”

She felt excessively warm in the cheeks. “It’s more than just Kyra. There’s someone I’ve been trying not to do anything with.”

“Is it because you’re afraid you’ll lose Kyra?”

“No. Yes. Damn it, Mortar, it’s everything I’ve yet to truly understand. Why did my life have to get so complicated since becoming a woman?”

“I think it was destined to become complicated since the day you were born, my friend.” He pressed some keys, and Mary was let back down on the ground.

“You’re a help.”

“Remember, Mary, when you became a human woman after our conflict with the demons a few months ago, I referred you to a couple people who specialized in transformative magic in case you wanted to change back into a man. I guess my question is: why haven’t you if you hate it?”

“I don’t hate it. This might sound weird, but, urges aside, I actually like it.”

“That’s not so weird. We have another transgender among us, in case you forgot. Everyone discovers themselves at different points in life. I won’t judge either of you, no matter what your sexual preferences, or what sex you choose to be. Don’t think of your urges as a curse. That’s just your hormones, and your body, telling you what it wants. Choose responsibly what you do with those feelings, is all, because ignoring them isn’t healthy at all.”

It wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but Mary wasn’t sure what she wanted. She thanked Mortar, wished him luck, and made her way to the door.

“Mary,” said Mortar Mage, “you’re one of three people who know about this place. I would appreciate it if you didn’t spread word about it.”

“Not a problem.”

Despite being dead for five years, last night was the best sleep Judy had had in recent memory. She walked into one room wiping her eyes clear of some leftover grogginess, and sat down on the sofa facing a television.

Judy made sure to call her mom once she woke up, because her mom promised to bring breakfast from somewhere, probably UHOW. Waffles were always good.

Her necklace sat in another room, placed in a jar that Warren had told her, yesterday, could charge magical artifact items over time. He suspected that the necklace would need it, and Judy was now reluctant to part from it. She only wished Warren had specified how long she would need to leave the necklace in there. So she guessed that it might need an hour, or to check on it then.

Now, there was only time to kill before her mom came.

She turned on the TV after finding the remote. Judy flipped through Saturday morning cartoons and various forms of paid programming until she hit the news. One station was reporting on two attacks that had happened last night. She listened for any details in case they had something to do with what Halah had said, but nothing did unless she counted four assassins whose powers vaguely resembled the four horsemen.

Two of the news stations showed reporters standing outside of the main city library. It was supposed to be opened, but a group of people slipped in late last night, did away with the staff and last few visitors for the evening, and stayed the whole night for purposes unknown. This group was refusing to let anyone enter.

Suddenly, the front door opened to the library, and cameras zoomed in on the group leaving the building. They were led by a woman in Egyptian garments and a mask that resembled a spider to hide all but her mouth. Five others exited with her, but only three had faces that could be seen by anyone.

This looked important, and Judy clicked the button for the digital video recorder to start recording. That was a split second before it hit her that the two other figures were wearing tiki masks.

The woman with the spider mask put up her hands like some sort of accepting ruler to her subjects. She spoke out, and her voice reached the reporters’ microphones from yards away. There was something familiar about her as she did so.

“Mortals of Paragon, and of Earth, you are blessed for the time is soon upon you. All that separated you from us and an eternity of discord and endless death was the truth of a single event, but in just days you will not have such a reprieve.”

“What?” Judy asked. However it had been in reaction to the faces she had seen. She recognized the woman in the mask at once, but there was another. The face she’d seen was mostly hidden by everyone else on either TV station, but there was the one glimpse. She got up and moved closer to the screen, switching stations rapidly in case she saw that face again. She needed to be sure.

“Have you foolish cattle forgotten so easily the truth?” The woman on the screen asked. “We have seen a glimpse of this truth, a truth so many of you have deemed inconvenient and unworthy of remembering, and the rest of it eludes us even now. There is someone out there who knows the rest, and yet he says nothing. Will this person step forward?”

Judy said, “No. No, come on. Show me your damn face. It can’t be you, so show me.”

“Some of you will think to laugh or jeer. A few of you will try to stop us. Worry not, for it will be over for you in two days’ time. In the end, you will all be the same – basking in all the pain and horror we shall bestow upon you. I have seen it, and it is glorious.”

“Come on!”

“What’s the shouting?” asked a voice behind Judy. It was Jackie, but Judy continued to focus on the two channels.

Finally, the face she thought she had seen shifted back into view as the group walked forward. Judy paused on his face. Those gaunt features. That expression void of everything but pride.

She felt the world around her crush her every fiber, body and soul. Someone shouted out after her, but it was drowned out. Everything was.

-------------
Chapter 18
-------------

Walter found Jeff directing some construction work. He waited for the opportunity to arise to approach his friend. Years ago, when they had met, trying anything of the sort was deemed suicidal, and a good way to end up cleaning toilets and floor tiles alike with only a toothbrush. Oddest of all, those were simpler times, Walter recalled.

“I haven’t seen you around Striga Island all that often,” said Jeff.

“Oh yes,” Walter said, “I’ve been meaning to see this place for some time. You don’t mind me being here, do you?”

“Not at all, as long as you stand back and wear a helmet.”

“Good, good. Does anyone in your company know what you can do?”

“Some do. They’re grateful enough for the lifesaving to keep my secret, even though I never really asked for it.”

“That’s always good to hear. It’s almost as good as the truth, for those ready to hear it.”

Jeff called out to his crew that it was break time for those who needed a few minutes. He oversaw the tools being set aside safely, and then he walked with Walter.

“That’s some timing on my part,” Walter said.

“Uh-huh.” Jeff’s tone was easy for him to read. If Walter had told him that coming here when he did was an accident, Jeff would have called him out on it, with or without words depending on his mood.

“I think the last time I was in this area was before I left. It appears that this whole island is doing better since you’ve come here.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t alone. There are plenty of good men and women here keeping the peace now that they know they stand a chance.”

“Does the local family still give you trouble?”

“Always, but we can manage. What’s with the social call, Walter?”

“Oh, just that, just that. I’d hate to see you become distant because everyone in the League is just now learning about where your powers come from, but most of all you’re my best friend since our military days.”

“Friends tell each other when we’re going to disappear for a few years.”

“That one’s on me. I dropped contact from everyone out of shame for all that happened the moment I left, and I thought sticking to my guns was the best course of action. I don’t think there was a right in that, but I made it worse.”

“Walter, stop. It’s all behind us now. Like you said, we’ve been friends since our military days. You covered for me when I first showed signs of having powers. If you hadn’t suggested we come home and try new lives as both civilians and superheroes, I might have been shunned, used as a weapon, or worse. Instead, we’re here.”

Walter’s phone went off. Judging by the raised brow his friend was giving him, it was time to change the ring tone. What a shame, he liked this song.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Hi, Walter?” said a young woman.

“Speaking.”

“Oh good. I don’t know who else to call. It’s Judy. Something’s happened to her.”

“What’s happened to her? Wait. Jeff, can your shadow portals take me back to the mainland in a hurry?”

Mortar Mage walked through the convention center at a gathering for scientific theorists and promising inventors. These sorts of things often amused him, but he wasn’t here for the show. He was looking for someone.

These conventions sometimes had booths belonging to the most harmless mad scientists to have ever scienced in the name of science. As such, they also drew in crowds of people looking to do grunt work for scientists who could pay them for experiment-related labor.

He passed wild theories about the recent boost in birth rates, a model of a device that boiled the filthiest water and caught the vapor, and more before he found the man he sought facing away from him.

Once he was within earshot, Mortar said, “Tunnel Hound.”

The low-ranking villain turned, and said, “I should have expected you to be coming along sooner or later.”

“You’ve been making yourself a hard man to find.”

“A man’s got to look out for himself. Some crazy chick’s out to get us less-than-stellar mutants if we get too close to Paragon.”

“Yet, here you are.”

“A man’s also got to find work. You got something for me?”

Mortar nodded. He pulled out some cash and a note folded together with a clip, and he handed it to Tunnel Hound. The man separated the note from the money, and held up the latter.

“Call it an advance bonus,” Mortar said. “There’s more waiting if you finish this project no later than tomorrow night. Easy money, I figure.” As the villain reviewed the note and nodded, Mortar added, “I would also appreciate it if you kept your job quiet.”

“Is this cleared with the city council or whoever?” Tunnel Hound asked.

“It will be, if everything’s followed to a ‘T.’”

Tunnel Hound examined Mortar for a time. Then he showed his toothy smirk. “Awight.”

Not long after that, they parted ways, and Mortar casually looked at the many displays on the floor before leaving himself. The few months of searching for someone to carry out his plan had come to an end.

Wyatt pounded open the bedroom door, the sound of Walter’s footsteps trailing from the stairs. He found Judy on the bed with her eyes closed, her body twitching, and words coming out of her mouth that he didn’t understand if they weren’t in mumbles.

“Good, you’re here,” said Jackie, who was in the room. It looked like she was patting Judy’s head with a cool, damp cloth. “I didn’t know what else to do. She was just watching the television, and then she convulsed and passed out. I had never seen lights flicker like that.”

He rushed to Judy’s side. Something was missing. “She was wearing a necklace yesterday. Kyra and Warren both said something about it when talking about her. Where is it?”

“I don’t know.”

Walter, who had just gotten to the door, let out a grunt and fled back to somewhere else in the mansion.

Wyatt took this chance to examine her vitals.

“Oh, her heart rate was twenty b-p-m when I checked it after calling you both,” Jackie said. Wyatt glanced her way briefly, but returned to his patient to confirm it.

“Good work, and thanks for letting us know what happened. Did you contact her mother?”

“I found her cell number and called it, but she must have left it here by accident.”

Seconds later, Walter ran in joined on the other side of the bed with the necklace in his hand. “Here, help me get this over her head, like this . . . thank you. I found it in one of Warren’s charging jars.”

The mumbling stopped. Wyatt raised his hand to silence everyone for a moment.

Then, Judy’s eyes shot open, and she sat up. She said something else, louder and more clearly, but also in another language. She collapsed on the bed with eyes closed. Judy was breathing next to normally again.

“Dear, oh dear,” said Walter. “I had no idea she spoke Rhakian.”

“Rhakian?” Jackie asked.

“One of the alien races always sending dignitaries and invaders our way.”

“She’s an alien?”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Judy was speaking another language when I came in here,” said Wyatt.

“Japanese, probably. I heard a bit of it while we were getting her necklace on.”

“I can hear what you’re all saying, you know,” groaned Judy. She shivered.

A portal blasted open outside the door. Mortar Mage stormed in, and wasted no time getting to the bed.

“How is she?” he asked.

“Warren,” Judy said, “don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I feel like death, but I’m fine.”

“What happened?”

Walter said, “She didn’t have her necklace on. She was catatonic and mumbling about something. She started to get better when we got the necklace back on her.”

“Good thinking. Still, what happened? Even if the necklace was off, Judy, you had to have experienced something traumatic to have declined in health, for a lack of a better word. For that matter, why did you have it off?”

Judy said, “I thought it was low on its charge when I woke up this morning. Normally, I can feel something from it. It’s peaceful, and touching my being gently. I woke up feeling much better than I have been, but that feeling from the necklace was weak.”

“You probably absorbed a majority of it while your mind and body went through your sleep cycles. If you hadn’t, I hate to think what would have happened to you.”

“I left the necklace in the jar, and went to watch TV while I waited for my mom to get here with breakfast.”

“In the future, Judy, you only need to wait five minutes for the necklace to fully charge.”

“Oh.”

In the main entry of the house, Mai walked in. “Hello?”

“We’re up here, Mom!”

“Sorry I took so long. I had to take half a dozen detours, and someone tried to rob the UHOW I went to. It’s crazy some of the places these burglars try to rob.” She joined everyone, who were all waiting silently. “What’s going on?”

“I fainted again. Don’t worry about it.”

“You know, I had a little surprise for you, but if you’re going to lie to me I might just chuck it.”

“Oh, Mom.”

“Out with it.”

“OK. While this necklace was charging, I watched the news. I saw something that looked important, and recorded it.”

“Good girl,” everyone but Jackie interjected.

“Those people who came out of the Library, it’s them. They’re the ones behind this. The one in the spider mask has my body. I’m sure it’s her. And that’s not all.”

Everyone stared at her, waiting for her to finish.

“You all might want to sit down for this.”

They looked around at one another. Walter said, “We’ll take our chances.”

“Well, OK. How do I put this? They’re a group. One of the men standing next to me, her . . . ugh, the one with my body! The one of them was hiding from view on both channels, but I saw his face. It was him, I know it. You must think I’m mad. He couldn’t have been there.”

“Who was it?” Jackie asked, when no one else would.

“Harvey Stone.”

Mai dropped the bag of food in her hand.

-------------
Chapter 19
-------------

Mary and Kyra didn’t have a dining room table. They barely had any sitting furniture. When it came to dining of any sort, they had eating-ware that could be flung off the bed at a moment’s notice. They had made plans to buy more at some point, but it wasn’t a priority for the two of them.

Today, they enjoyed breakfast in bed. The dirty dishes were on a tray at the foot end of the mattress. The only clothes Mary and Kyra had on was their underwear.

A rarity in these parts.

Mary grabbed Kyra’s sexy waist and kissed her on the lips. “Breakfast was delicious, honey.”

“Thank you, love,” said Kyra.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to make the dinner you had planned last night.”

“If only there were some cool storage device for food and ingredients so we can make something another night. We’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“Who’s worried?”

Her phone went off in the other room. Mary could have kicked herself if her legs weren’t presently tangled with Kyra’s equally smooth legs.

From the sound of it, Mary’s phone was receiving a text message. It could have been any number of people at this point. Maybe it was the school telling her something she needed to know for Monday, if there was going to be a Monday. Perhaps it was the supervillain-run, fake health insurance company that called random people expecting money they didn’t actually owe; someone needed to track and shut them down already.

She kissed her girlfriend on the lips, and again on top of one of her boobs, before slipping out of bed begrudgingly. Mary took the tray of dishes with her to the kitchen, where her phone sat on the counter.

The message read: “Emergency League meeting 2p.”

It was 1:35. Real smooth, Walter.

Judy couldn’t remember the last time she had had a chocolate-covered banana. Having one in her mouth right now was just beyond words. She might have done the embarrassing thing and moaned about it in front of everyone in the room, but too bad.

“Is there something special in those things?” asked Jackie.

Meanwhile, Tatiana snickered in her seat. Taking the laughter as a challenge, albeit a playful one, Judy aimed for the empty soda can next to Tatiana, and shot a thin bolt of electricity at it. The can went flying.

Tatiana whipped her head between where the can landed, where it had been previously, and at Judy a couple times.

“Nice shot,” said Jackie.

“Yeah,” Tatiana said, “but try not to push yourself too hard there, Judy.”

She could have said so many things there. Judy elected to stick her tongue out, and continue eating the treat that her mom had left her. Sure, Tatiana and everyone else was right to worry about her, especially after what had happened this morning, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t show how much better she was feeling already.

While Judy enjoyed her chocolate-covered banana, she wondered when the meeting was going to start. She could hear Mary and Kyra coming up the walkway to the front porch. The only person not accounted for that moment—aside from her mother, who had to take care of some things—was Warren.

He had said that he needed to check on a few things around the house. Often times, when Warren said that, he ventured into a room that Judy had never seen, even when a part of her was inside of the computer overseeing the League’s base. For that matter, she’d never seen a third of the mansion until she came back to the world of the living.

Yet, there was the one room. It was warded against portals and teleportation. It was out of sight of any camera in the house, and out of range of any microphone. The only reason Judy hadn’t gone in there yet was because she respected Warren enough not to venture in there without his knowledge. It crossed her mind that, if no one saw Warren in the next five minutes, she might have to go looking for him and start there.

Three sets of footsteps drew near. Two of those sets came from the League’s queens of sarcasm, walking hand-in-hand. Behind Mary and Kyra was a man they were teasing on the way inside the room.

Mary said, “Hey, guys, look who we found on the driveway.”

Everyone who at least knew who he was said their hellos to Peter. Peter waved.

“Who’s he?” Jackie whispered to Judy.

Judy said, “He owns this house.”

“Oh.”

Peter looked over at both of them and smiled. “Hello, young ladies. I don’t think we’ve met.”

He took a hand each from Jackie and Judy, and kissed them. Judy felt charmed by his behavior, but she couldn’t help but notice something was odd about his hands.

“Careful, Peter,” said Mary. “The one on your left is my sister.”

Kyra chimed in, “And the one on your right might still count as necrophilia.”

“Kyra.”

Peter pulled away without any sign of fear or disgust. “It looks like you’ve got a big gathering here today. Where’s Warren? Oh, never mind, I think I know where he is.”

“I’m right here,” said Mortar Mage, coming up the steps from the cellar. He didn’t wear his costume around the house very often, let alone with the fancier work gloves he only put on when he meant business. “I wasn’t expecting you back in town today.”

“Big news. SAM hit a million subscribers in the US today.”

“That’s great news. You could have told me this over the phone or by email.”

“When do you listen to news about our circulation when I contact you that way? Besides, I came back to Paragon because I wanted to celebrate. What do you and your friends say to going out, tomorrow night?”

There was a short, tense silence about the room before Wyatt said, “Um, well . . .”

“That serious, huh?”

The hologram played back both news stations’ points of view during the appearance of the Vanquishiri. The woman in the anthropomorphic spider mask finished her speech, and the group walked forward, except for the two lumbering figures in shiny, black, skintight outfits and tiki masks. It was hard to call what they did walking.

A pair of heroes entered the scene as the cameras zoomed out. At least one of them was new and unknown to Walter’s memory.

In a split second, one of the Vanquishiri zipped across the screen and punched one of the heroes. The hero flew back. The two figures in the tiki masks attacked the other hero. The hero struggled to fend them off while the muscular man went after the one he hit. Seconds later the hero still on the screen panicked and fled.

Everyone saw why the next second as the muscular man dragged the other one back into view. With a malicious grin pointed at both cameras, he tugged and dislocated the squirming hero’s arm. Then he threw the hero to the ground, and stomped on his back.

The transmission feed cut off from both networks as soon as the man’s foot sank into the hero’s back. The projection changed into four portraits as best taken from those news feeds.

Mortar Mage indicated from the top left. “Devon Tartakovsky. He is a historian and archaeologist whose credibility in both fields plummeted as of late when he started to research the war that happened four years ago. He was last seen alive a few days ago.
“Here, we have a man named Vincent Desrochers, with the villain moniker Black Rift. With a power to turn almost any fluid into coffee, you’d think he would have had it made, but he chose to keep his power secret until a trail of caffeinated corpses led to his home in Oregon. He was beheaded by another villain with a laser sword.”

He moved his pointer to the woman on the bottom left, and looked over in Judy’s direction with a sad set of eyes. Walter could see her take a deep breath, close her eyes briefly, and nod back to Mortar.

“This woman in the mask,” Mortar said, “if what we’re led to believe is correct, is Judy Tanimoto. She was a hero, named Pixeletta, right here in Paragon City until the age of fifteen when her life was taken from her. Her powers included electrokinesis and the ability to enter computer systems from up to thirty feet away.”

“Whoa, wait a minute,” said Peter. He was looking from the secondary image of Judy and the Judy sitting on one side of the room. “How could she be dead? You mean to tell me she was that woman in the creepy mask?”

“It’s complicated. She should be resting in peace, if not alive and clear of this situation, but now there are two people who look like an older version of her. The one using her body is here on the screen, and the one sitting here with us is the real Judy made recorporial.”

“That’s insane.” Even saying that, Peter kept his calm as if trying to register this all in his mind rather than lash out over something being difficult.

“I know.”

“How? Pardon my asking, but how did she die?”

Judy said, “I wish I knew.”

“What?”

“I don’t remember the last day of my life. Nobody’s told me, and it’s not in the system. I feel like I should know it, but it’s like a burnt page from a book. That page is missing, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get to see what was on it.”

“Probably for the best,” Mortar Mage said. “You might not be ready to know yet. The mere trauma of knowing could destroy you.”

“You don’t know for sure!”

“I don’t want to take that chance. I lost you once; we all did.”

“Fine.” Judy crossed her arms.

Walter said, “Why don’t we move on? We have one more person to go over.”

“Right,” Mortar Mage said. “The last one is Harvey Stone. No alias. It was believed that he was related to the leader of the Arachne Regime. His power was that of compulsion. It was easy for him to hide it except for when we saw his wake. People lined up to die or perform egregious acts because he spoke to them. The higher-ups of the Arachne Regime either feared or loathed him, save for the one on top, and he worked for their organization until the day he died, more than five years ago.”

Mary sighed and groaned. Curious; it was as if she had expected to see the man’s face, though she had clearly not wanted to.

Jackie said, “I heard of that awful man.”

“You have?” said Mortar Mage.

She nodded. “How did he die?”

“I killed him,” said Judy. “I thought I saw my best friend die, and I burned him to a crisp.” There was no sadness in her voice. No trembling. All there was, was anger and calm.

“I thought heroes don’t kill people?”

“We try. I’m not sure I ever got over it, until now. Now we need to know why we’re all back to life, if you can call it that. We need to stop them before they do any more harm. Sitting here, I thought I would kill him again and again if I have to, until he stops coming back.”

“Judy!” said Tatiana.

“I won’t. It’s not going to fix things, or make me feel any better, if I hunt him down myself.”

Kyra said, “That’s probably for the best. I already fought him once. He’s strong; not as strong as the big guy, I’m sure, but still powerful. He can multiply into multiple bodies as well.”

As she explained this, Walter imagined everyone was piecing it together as he had that she was referring to the night that Judy’s body had been taken from her grave. That, in addition to the masked woman’s words and the strength shown by the muscular man, indicated that the Vanquishiri Bahitians came with their own powers.

Somewhere out there, this villainous group was either wreaking havoc in an unknown corner of the world, they were planning something, or they were waiting for the time to strike. But, why wait? They showed that they were powerful enough to strike now, but Walter’s contacts told him that the group left after the feed ended.

Jeff said, “Now what? We do have a plan, right?”

There was a ring at the doorbell. Walter noticed the curious, stunned look on Wyatt’s face as the resident psychic faced the door. Walter got up, volunteering to answer the bell. He opened the door, his friends and allies ready at a safe distance to attack if the need arose, because they couldn’t see who was behind it otherwise. There slouched a woman with red hair, blood and bruises, and a costume that had seen better days.

“Not the house I wanted.” She collapsed in the doorway.

-------------
Chapter 20
-------------

“Isn’t that—?”

“Yes.”

“Shouldn’t we call—?”

“No.”

Jeff stood in the kitchen with Mary and Kyra while the new guest was taken upstairs and treated by Wyatt. Mortar Mage and Walter were up there with them in case she woke up during Wyatt’s treatment. Jackie walked in, in full costume.

Diamond Grace was unhappy with everyone else’s decision not to call the cops, but they assured her that their new guest was far less of a villain than the media and the law enforcement made her out to be.

“Walter told me to tell everyone to suit up,” Diamond Grace said.

“I figured he might,” Jeff said. “Did that include Tatiana?”

The young heroine only nodded slowly. Kyra and Mary had wandered off, probably to change into their costumes. This would only leave Peter, who wasn’t known to ever have a costume because he didn’t involve himself in these matters, and Judy, who hadn’t worn or even been sized for a costume in half a decade.

Tatiana teleported into the kitchen with an altered version of her costume that she’d once said she wanted to try out. That was before her decision to give being a heroine a break, on account that she didn’t want her unborn baby to break her back when Princess Undercut was able to deflect bullets with ease.

“This thing doesn’t feel like it fits right,” she said.

“It doesn’t look so bad,” said Jeff.

“Right. You try thinking that when carrying another human inside of you, and enough hormones for a bus full of hot chicas.”

“You look pretty, and the costume looks like it fits you nicely,” he insisted. Meanwhile, he was thinking something along the lines of, “Please don’t kill me.”

“I can’t wait until I can go around in my regular costume and start kicking some ass again. When my kid’s old enough for it, I’m grounding them for every small thing just to get back at them. With my luck, he or she will do the same with their kids after I’m old and gray.”

“Suddenly, a lot of kids’ woes growing up have been explained.”

“I’d ask about your costume, but that’s pretty obvious, huh?”

Jeff took a step back and drew in all of the shadows around him. Splotches of black circled around him from his feet upward. The shadows returned to normal, and War Lagoon’s costume replaced his work clothes from earlier in the day.

The look on Tatiana’s face seemed to call him a showoff, but he didn’t see Adamast Cross walking in.

Adamast said, “I imagine that has some effect on your laundry.”

“Nope,” War Lagoon said.

Footsteps hurried down the stairs closest to the kitchen, and War heard one set of steps head off into the downstairs observation room. Walter popped his head into the kitchen the next moment. Without a word, he moved his head to indicate for everyone to follow.

The Dallevan League gathered by Mortar, who was tinkering with three smaller computers. Mortar said, “That one there, this from here, and oh gods damn it. Here, though . . .”

War Lagoon asked, “How’s our guest?”

“Sleeping and recovering,” Psi Wizard said. “We left her a letter for when she wakes up. ‘One, you are safe and among allies. Two, you are not a prisoner. Three, please read on, because it’s complicated.’ And four through a hundred or so sums up everything that’s relevant and has happened so far while including a guess as to what happened to her. She can prove us wrong when she’s ready to do so.”

“That sounds reasonable, assuming she bothers reading the letter and doesn’t storm out of here the second that one eye cracks open.”

Mortar Mage said, “OK, I’m ready. Here we go.” Some holographic projections appeared above the computers. They showed maps of the city. “This one, as some of you remember, is from The Event when Maryann and Ohm Wire shared parts of a succubus. Here are a couple shots of our guest flying in and out of town. The Vanquishiri are outside of our field of detection at the moment, as well. However, they were in the library last night as you can see here. Judging from this, the three of them with powers can ward off the effects of power suppression.”

Jackie said, “You can seriously track everyone with superpowers with this thing? Why not keep it up at all times? Use it to prevent powerful villains from doing too much harm?”

“There are two reasons we don’t do that. One, it would take up a lot of electricity to maintain, even with equipment that should be efficient and on the market in another two or three years. Secondly, there is a line most of us prefer not to cross when it comes to spying on people. If that wasn’t the case, we could give up a lot of heroes’ secret identities in a flash. Which reminds me!”

He pulled out a remote with a single, covered button on it. Mortar said, “It should be fully charged by now. Psi, you might want to brace yourself.”

“How come?” Psi Wizard asked.

Mortar pressed the button. Instantly, something felt different about the air around them. “That. Sorry.”

“Dude, holy shit. I thought it was just you recently, but now everyone . . . augh! Suddenly you’ve all gone from a masterful renaissance painting to a five-year-old’s attempt at abstract art. What did you do?”

“While we’re all here inside of this house, our thoughts cannot be read, our possible futures cannot be seen, and the ability to feel our emotions or powers will be difficult.”

“Why would you do this?”

“Because, for the last few months, I’ve felt like we’ve been watched by more forces than I care to count. An acquaintance of mine is helping me work on something similar, should we ever need it, but this will give us the ability to plan without anyone knowing what we’re up to unless they’re already here in the flesh. I know it sounds paranoid, but I didn’t have much choice.”

Walter said, “Very good. Now let’s discuss how we’re going to locate and beat the Vanquishiri while getting our friend’s body back for her.”

Mortar held up a vile with a shard of the pearly white crystal they encountered the day before. “I suggest looking up a few leads tied to this. It’s a crystal from another plane, and only a select number of people or companies handle anything transdimensional like this. Investigate them, and we might get closer to finding the Vanquishiri or thwarting whatever it is that they’re planning.”

War Lagoon said, “I think it’s time I had a chat with the Sillunisu. One or two of you are welcome to come with me. They might know something about the Vanquishiri Bahitians that we don’t.”

“We can do that?”

“I think so. There’s a chance I might need some help making it work since it requires using my mind to visit their plane of our reality.”

They looked over to Psi Wizard, who pursed his lips for a moment. Psi Wizard then nodded and gave a thumb up.

Judy said, “Awesome. So who do I go with?”

“We need you to stay here,” Mortar said.

“What? But I can kick butt again. I can do so much.”

“Yes, but you aren’t ready yet. We don’t know what will happen once you meet your doppleganger, especially since she has the original body. You have another important task of watching over the house while our guest is asleep. If she wakes while we’re all out investigating, and beating up the random bad guys, then try to be a good host.”

“I can do that.” Disappointment dripped from her voice. Mortar had to have noticed, because he was patting her on the shoulder.

Adamast said, “Not to sound impatient, but who’s going with whom?”

Devon read alone amidst a view, Paragon City basking in the daylight in the distance. He tried to put out of his mind what he saw these so-called gods do to a number of heroes. He tried to put out of his mind the likelihood that he, and the rest of the world, could die any day, any moment.

They had let him take a few more volumes of this record before they left the city. How had he not heard of such a thing before? It chronicled Paragon City possibly from the day it was first built. That was one volume he couldn’t carry.

He hoped that, just maybe, there was an answer in these books as to what he could do. Where was this Hobbs family that worked in the shadows? What was this “Frozen Pendulum” event spoken of in the start of one volume, but contained hopefully in the previous book? Why was there such a long gap before the next writer came along? And, who was this W-M that appeared again in the last volume?

He heard strange whispers and echoes coming out of the ground along this hillside. Normally, it wasn’t so distracting, but this was one of the few instances where the sounds ripped his eyes from whatever page he was on.

Vidnyanta and the others never told him what exactly they were doing, and he decided that it was for the best if he didn’t ask. So, he looked at the two masked, zombie-like guards watching him from the same trees and rocks that hid most of the rest of the hill, and he went back to the current volume with a acquiescing sigh.

-------------
Chapter 21
-------------

She opened the door, hoping it wouldn’t creak. Judy saw the bed where their guest lay, and had a suspicious feeling about her. Five or six years ago, she would have sneaked in and poked the woman on the nose just to be sure. Sleeping people breathed differently from anyone who faked being asleep.

To their guest’s credit, it was slow and steady and easy to fool most people who didn’t know better. Judy had half a mind to say she invented that technique, but she doubted she was the first. She doubted either woman in that room would be the last, Monday be damned.

Judy smiled at her. As quietly as possible, she whispered, “I’ll be downstairs if you need me. Let me know if I can get you anything.”

The door closed almost as softly. Another whisper passed through it before the door was closed completely. “Water, thank you.”

Did Psi Wizard ever tell anyone he wasn’t a fan of mindscapes? He totally wasn’t.

Inside of his own mind, he found the edge of a beach to prepare himself while he stood with Mortar Mage and Psi Wizard on the backyard patio. He glanced a short ways into their mindscapes. Not enough to enter their thoughts and memories, but enough to establish a short-term link.

“Ready?” asked War Lagoon.

“I am when you two are,” Psi Wizard said.

He could see that War Lagoon was concentrating and calling forth a shadow. Shadows moved around their physical bodies, and then shifted back into place. War tried again and again as if trying to get it right.

A sphere of many dark colors appeared between their mindscapes. War Lagoon was doing it. Now the sphere was growing. Psi Wizard reached from within his own mindscape into those of his buddies. Once the sphere expanded past Psi Wizard’s sight, all three of them were floating somewhere that defied the rules of light and shadow.

There was no light source, but every detail was visible among all three men, as well as the dark clouds circling them from an immeasurable distance away.

Mortar Mage said, “When we’re done here, War, we need to talk about adding a few throw pillows. Maybe add one of those rugs with a cool pattern on it.”

“I’ll take it up with management,” War Lagoon said. “Let’s see if we can find them.”

“I think they found us.” He pointed in one direction, but there were a few like it.

Tall, unnaturally lanky figures with no discernible features emerged from the clouds. They were pitch black. Each and every one might have creeped out the average person, or make someone act out in fear, but Psi Wizard didn’t sense any amount of danger or malice from these figures. Gentle might have been a liberal term for what he sensed, as well.

With the water delivered, Judy was officially bored. She needed to go out, and no form of entertainment was going to play the salve. Years ago, she had sworn to be a hero because she was inspired to do so. Years ago, being a hero became as important as breath. Now, Judy could only guess how pathetic she looked while the upper half of her body was sprawled out against a table surface.

She examined her necklace with its two discs on either side the size of her thumbnails, and a rectangle in the middle. This one thing kept her health stable. It didn’t feel drained yet, but she looked over at the charging jar all the same.

Sure, her powers her slowly creeping back. Her friends were infuriatingly right to be worried about her going out. Yet, it didn’t help. She knew what she wanted to do. Judy knew what she needed to do. If only there was a way to overcharge the necklace, or something.

Judy exchanged another glance between her necklace and the jar. Then she had a sudden idea. It was a wicked idea. It was dangerous.

There was no way she wasn’t going to do it.

The shadow creatures had no visible mouths, and yet it didn’t stop them from speaking. One of their voices echoed:

“Welcome, Jeff of family Charleston, and friends. This is an unusual time.”

Another, deeper voice said, “What brings you to us, this day?”

War Lagoon, “It’s about a threat here in Paragon City. We came to see what you know of it.”

“We know only a fraction of what the seer has seen,” a third, feminine, but raspy voice said.

“Yeah, we already spoke with Halah. She told us that the world could end soon, and that the Vanquishiri are behind it.”

A fourth voice spoke out. By now, Psi Wizard could guess they would hear as many voices as there were of these Shadow Kin present, if not more. Their persistent lack of mouths made him uneasy.

Meanwhile, the fourth said, “The Vanquishiri Bahitians?”

“Yes, them,” Mortar Mage said.

“That cannot be, or it shouldn’t be.”

“Halah seemed to know they’re involved,” War Lagoon said.

“Forgive us, but as we said before, we only know a fraction of what the seer has seen. That some of the things she has foreseen has not driven her mad . . .” “. . . such as that Ninja Turtle movie . . .” “. . . is proof that we chose the right person for the job.”

All three men stood there full of questions, full of more words than existed in any language, but none of them spoke. Psi Wizard knew the other two felt as he did. Where could they possibly start with their questions?

“You appear to need our guidance on the Vanquishiri, and it would be our pleasure, and our shame, to tell you what we know of them,” said one voice.

Another said, “There was an age of three. It was a time when man created the Demon Thorn from their own bodies in an attempt to bypass the laws of magic no mortal body could contain. It was a time when we were born to guide all creatures toward the unknown. It was a time when one man took over his domain in the eternal realm.”

“A beast had been made to keep us in check, but it was too dangerous for the ones who made it, and they locked it away upon realizing their error. The Vanquishiri were of the gods, superpowered men and women who found a way to reach and dwell within the mortal realm. The other gods and their followers detested the death and discord wrought by a number within their many pantheons. The souls of this number were torn from their flesh and locked away in your world. Their followers could do little more than protect their prisons and hope for a day that their twisted masters would rise again.”

“There was a family who sought answers as to the means to defeat a carnal demon running rampant in the young Americas. A hunter in their employ—a man with electric powers—learned of the arcane device used to trap the souls of the Vanquishiri, because the hunter and his father found their way to us. We taught them how to contain and release that demon, but the lesson must have passed on to another, and then another.”

“The beast was made to keep us in check. We did not fight except to protect, though man has its habit of fearing what it does not understand. We were trapped while the other two fought over control of humanity, the demons and the followers of the Vanquishiri. When the demons were finally contained, save a few, the two avoided one another. The followers of the Vanquishiri stayed out of any place with a strong presence of the Circle. However, when the carnal demon was trapped inside of the device, one of the hunters was captured by the Circle.”

“So, you see, we aimed to help humanity and may be responsible for dooming it. If you say the Vanquishiri are involved, then they will have resorted to a twisted version of our means of containment and release. They will need bodies, fresh ones, to access their godly powers. They will do terrible, despicable things to the ones they cannot possess. They will torment the soul of whomever they possess until the body withers beyond the scope of their soul magic.”

Mortar Mage said, “They have taken the bodies of two criminals and of a friend of ours. Is there a way to remove them without harming the bodies? Or the original souls of their hosts?”

“No.”

“What if I told you one of those souls got away? What if I told you she is walking around in a highly unstable copy of her old body?”

“Then protect her new body.”

Warren’s workshop in the garage had many things. Judy knew most of what these things were because of her time in the base’s computer system. Now she foraged the racks and cabinets for everything she needed.

She set down the massive battery in the middle of the concrete floor, and hooked up a set of jumper cables. The switch wasn’t on yet. Good. The battery was at full power. Better.

Judy clamped the ends of the jumper cables to her hands. It stung a little. She looked at them real quick, and realized that using her hands to flip the switch might not have been a good idea. She might accidentally create a circuit and do more damage than this was worth. So she kicked off her socks and shoes. She reached for the switch with her toes.

“You can’t just tell us to give up like that,” Mortar Mage said.

A voice said, “It is the truth. When her old body is done, it could very well spell the end for her new one as well. We are sorry, but that is a function of life and death. It is a function that will restore itself when the time comes, if it comes. Cherish the time you have left with her.”

“She deserves better than this.”

“Everyone deserves better than the twisted machinations of the Vanquishiri. The only way to beat them is to contain them. Simply killing their current bodies will cause them to move on to the next, a poor random soul no one has control over. It will lose you what time you have left.”

Mortar screamed in frustration.

War Lagoon said, “Halah mentioned that the world could be ending in less than two days.”

“Hmm . . . Not the world; the universe. This darkness, greater than any shadow, goes beyond the confines of any one world. Everything leads to a single point. In that, we are sorry to say, cherish your time with everyone. Be thankful you have any time anew with your friend. If the Vanquishiri are behind it, your only chance is to do the unthinkable. You must make a terrible sacrifice.”

“How can we find them? How can we contain them?”

“They will come to you. Trap them. There isn’t enough time to find the tools you need to hold them our way. If you can find another to trap a soul, do it. Save the universe, for everyone’s sake.”

The final voice said, “We must part now. Let the light and shadow both see the dawn, hand-in-hand.”

Mortar Mage wanted to shout at them, but he watched as the clouds and Shadow Kin vanished. The trio of heroes stood in the backyard of the mansion again. Even if he had shouted at them, what could he say? What could he change?

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and turned to enter the house with his pals. Mortar had a plan, or the making of one, but he had no idea how to break it to them.

They stopped after the door. Mortar lifted his head to see why. Their guest was sitting on a chair with a glass of water in one hand, and the letter in her other one. She regarded them with a dry writ to her eyes.

“Some show you put on back there.”

Psi Wizard shot open his mouth as if to speak, but the few lights and electronics present that were on during the day all flickered. Everyone was looking around curiously.

Mortar said, “Computer, where is Judy right now?”

Rather than a feminine voice, he heard one that sounded more like a generic tin can. “Judy Tanimoto is. Presently. In the garage.”

He ran when he heard it. He tuned out any shouts or footsteps that followed. He had to get to Judy and fast, fearing what she might do in there. He opened the door. There was a smell. He charged inside and stopped at the sight of fumes rising from a single body.

-------------
Chapter 22
-------------

The switch flipped with a click. Instantly, Judy felt the electricity fill her body. The sensation took her over, and she fell over in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. She felt her clothes burn and peel away from her skin. The juice from the battery only worked harder, and Judy only laughed more intensely.

She could barely move.

Could hardly breathe.

Her surroundings danced at blinding speeds until she heard a voice shout her name. The electricity had stopped, so Judy was free to look up. However, there was still a residual need to laugh.

“Warren, hi,” she said in a daze.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Mortar Mage asked. He bent down to scoop her up with one arm.

Mortar examined the battery on the ground. It was burned out beyond any future usage. He wasn’t looking at Judy, probably because, as she quickly noticed, she was naked with a few singed threads lingering on her form. Her charm she had gotten from Kyra was still around her neck as well, though a few scorch marks sullied the surface. The clothes and battery were gone, but her skin showed no signs of burning.

She looked backed at his averted gaze. Judy said, “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see if this could help me. I wanted to see if it would let me help out as a hero again.”

“Did it?” Mortar asked. His voice had a degree of harshness to it.

“I don’t know yet. I feel more alive, but just as tired. I don’t think I laughed that hard in ages. I think Wyatt might say it tickled my socks off, or something.”

He exhaled, eyes closed. “Up we go.” They stood. Judy covered her breasts with one arm and her vagina with the other hand while Mortar guided her back into the house. “Let’s get you some clothes on.”

“What?” Ohm Wire asked as she and Adamast walked.

“I don’t know,” Adamast said, “I just figured your old contacts might still be in the Nerva islands.”

“No, maybe one or two of them, but most of them live outside of Paragon City these days.”

“But not this one?”

“Not this one, no. This one fell for another man whose father owns a shop in Steel Canyon. Now they work together, and sometimes stage fake robberies to attract business.”

Adamast was caught between a simple nod and shaking her head sideways.

Something like that sounded familiar in a city like this. It recently made it harder to tell if a hero should step in or not. Usually, the staged robberies were filed with the police ahead of time, and they tried to make these things obvious at the end so no one got the wrong idea. Thinking of it further, the whole thing was on-brand for this city.

They found a jewelry store after a while. Adamast had been eyeing this place for a while with the idea of maybe one day buying something for Kyra. Mary’s salary as a teacher kind of made that look like it could happen as soon as they were old enough to retire; maybe a decade or two after that.

“We’re here,” Ohm Wire said.

“Is there a secret entrance to another store I’m not seeing?” Adamast asked.

This was actually one of the best jewelry stores in the city, too, in regards to its selection and pricing. That a former villain could work here boggled Adamast’s mind, or it would have if she hadn’t known better by now. Some villains needed help to live better lives, and her own girlfriend had a short stint as such a villain that had ended recently.

Ohm Wire opened the door and stepped inside, prompting Adamast to follow. The interior took on a look of wooden display casings, rather than a sterile white and silver that she was used to from the couple of times she rescued such shops from robberies.

There were five customers checking out the wares or talking to one of the clerks, of which there were two present. Adamast wasn’t sure if Ohm Wire’s contact was the man or the woman among them. Ohm Wire didn’t give any indication, and the two heroines examined a number of pieces of jewelry before Adamast heard the sound of beads banging together.

Another man, well-dressed, passed through the curtain of stringed beads. He said, “Ohm Wire, hello!” The man walked to her with his hands clasped together. He was enthusiastic, but he otherwise sounded normal. “How did my little gift work out for your girlfriend?”

Ohm Wire coughed. “No, just a friend, who is a girl.”

“So a girl-friend. Go on.”

“She’s doing better now, thank you. Actually, while we’re here, I’d like to introduce you to my actual girlfriend. Tucker, meet Adamast Cross. Adamast, Tucker.”

They shook hands. Adamast felt the man’s eyes on her and saw the smile on his face. He leaned in with a whisper. “Nice to meet you, Maryann.”

“What?” Adamast asked.

Ohm Wire giggled. “It’s one of his gifts. He’s totally careful with it though.”

“I try,” Tucker said. “You wouldn’t imagine the sarcastic pounding I got from her when I nearly let slip her name back in the day.”

“She’s my girlfriend, Tucker, not a random woman I picked up off the street. I’m pretty sure she’d come to expect something like how I’d react.”

Tucker’s smile twitched. “Pop quiz, then, if you don’t mind me asking. What is Ohm Wire’s favorite gem?”

“Unless your gift has grown to things people like, I doubt either of you will get this one.”

Adamast said, “It’s Benitoite.”

Ohm Wire, rather amusingly, looked at her with a state of shock. Tucker looked at the younger heroine and then back to Adamast.

“I’ve seen her look at a few things on the Internet,” Adamast said.

“Well now,” Tucker said, “the world certainly is full of surprises. I can’t say we have anything in with that one, though; it’s kinda rare and on the other side of the country. So how can I help you both today?”

“We’re here because of a crystal a couple friends of ours found yesterday. Also, we were wondering if you heard anything from the criminal underground about the new villains in town, or where we can find them.”

Tucker leaned against a display case that was fixed to the ground. “I don’t really listen to the underground these days, save for the whispers coming through here. As for your new villains, I only know what everyone does. They’re dangerous, and they move fast. If they are up to something, I can only hope they’re more bark than bite. Where they went after their appearance this morning, I couldn’t tell you. Wait, no, I heard they beat up someone that had followed them, but no one got a good look at who it was. It was a cape who ended up getting away super-fast.”

“I think we know who that was.” It didn’t make Adamast very happy, but she wasn’t going to turn down helping someone who needed it, not unless their intent was malicious at best. “I wish everyone was so lucky.”

“As for your mystery crystal, I wonder. I heard there was something flying around town yesterday, and that it was taken away by men in tailored dress robes, rather than your usual suits. There was a whole crowd present, but the best I heard was something about a giant pearl.”

“It wasn’t a pearl, according to Mortar Mage,” said Ohm Wire.

“Oh? That guy’s a class-A genius.” Both women barked a laugh when they heard Tucker say that. “What did he say it was?”

Adamast said, “I think he called it ‘Aelshinyx.’ I hope I said it right. That guy says a lot of things I can’t get right still.” What was that hippopotamus thing again from a few months ago?

Tucker paled about a shade or two. “Aelshinyx? Are you sure?” His deep breath was visible and audible from the other side of the room, judging by the man behind the counter who looked over their way. “That’s a trip. I thought that stuff was banished from our plane long ago.”

Ohm Wire said, “What is it?”

“That’s a fine question. It’s obscene is what it is. Do you remember any of the rules of magic I told you about a few years ago?”

“I can’t say. I wasn’t exactly listening back then.”

Adamast vaguely remembered something of Mortar Mage mentioning rules of magic, and how half of those rules came from other realms and plains. The few times Mortar had mentioned it in the past, Adamast told him he or she would take Mortar’s word for it.

“Well,” Tucker said, “there are rules. Not just guidelines; rules. For instance, some forms of magic cannot be performed correctly in a plane or realm when the tools are missing from a certain radius. Aelshinyx is responsible for soul magic that could, very easily, be argued as being evil. Hogwash, of course, since evil comes from the user, but that didn’t mean most of the worst spells weren’t used by the worst of beings.

“Aelshinyx. Damn. The last time I heard of it being sold in this world was some nine or ten years ago. It was purchased by the Circle of Thorns, here, in Paragon City. They’re all gone, as far as I care to tell. If you say that crystal yesterday was as you say it is, then it had to have come from back then.”

“It was in a magic temple the new villains were using until yesterday,” said Ohm Wire.

“That makes sense. I had heard a rumor that someone moved into some of the old Circle hideouts. This strikes me as odd, though. Aelshinyx is bound to the buyer’s soul. If the buyer dies or moves far enough away, then the gem moves as well. Could I have heard wrong?”

“Maybe we should look for the seller,” suggested Adamast.

“That might be a good idea, if just to get the seller off the market. Find a gem smuggler, an artifact smuggler, or someone who deals in both. The list will be long, even here in Paragon, but if you can do everyone a solid by removing their presence, you’d have my thanks.”

Her mom wasn’t going to be happy that Judy had literally burned through an outfit already, but she walked out of her room fully dressed. She passed the guest, who was sitting on her bed contemplating something.

Judy, rather ironically, asked her, “Would you like new clothes? Or even for us to wash your costume?”

“Thank you, no,” said the redhead.

“OK. I can’t speak for everyone, but I think you’d be welcome here any time.”

“I’d rather not. It’ll put everyone at a greater risk once I’ve been seen here. It’ll happen eventually. It happened at least once with that . . . woman.” She exhaled, and shook her head. “I meant to find someone else today. I’m not ready, not with her hanging around there. No, it’s more complicated than that.”

Those words seemed cryptic to Judy, but she said, “Try me. I don’t know if that letter mentioned anything, but I spent the last five years dead. Before that, I was going mad to the point where I would have become a villain, because I thought I was losing everything that mattered to me. I can’t remember my last day alive, but I can only hope something came along that redeemed me.”

“What do you know of redemption or villainy? I’ve killed.”

“So have I. In my final days before dying, I thought I was lying to myself by saying it didn’t feel good. Now I know better. It didn’t feel good at all, but I would do it again if it meant saving someone close to me. Like mother, like daughter, I guess.”

“I can kill you lot, you know.”

“We could do the same. Every one of us is thankful when we don’t have to kill, or even fight. That’s because we have our way, just as you have yours now. I won’t stop you if you decide to leave, but do us one small favor.”

“What?”

“Wait until dark. You were lucky enough coming here during the day.”

The guest laughed. “Does being dead come with wisdom or something?”

“No, but being a fifteen year old girl babysitting a bunch of adults will sure do it.”

The other woman laughed even harder, this time with a sort of “Yeah right!” to it. She was probably right. Pixeletta was known for instigating a lot of the League’s mischief.

“Very well,” said the red-headed guest, “I guess I’ll let you all be the ones to beat these Vanquishiri I read about. I have a dangerous villain to track down who fled the country.”

“Good luck.”

-------------
Chapter 23
-------------

His phone was silent, and the city was unusually quiet for this time of day.

Walter sat along the edge of the skylight of a three story building, his chin pressed against the top of his cane. It was, after all, a good time to ponder on things while he waited for someone to get back to him.

It brought back an odd memory from his youth, decades ago, when he had applied to a few places for his first job, just to get out of the house. He had waited by the phone for far too long for one of those places to call. That memory of the old him came and went as moments often did.

He could hear someone climbing the ladder on the side of the building, but he didn’t turn his head to look in its direction. Instead, he listened. The hands and feet had to be small, but either the person was heavy or they were carrying something big on their back. Walter moved his eyes over to confirm what the sound was when Gemma appeared at the top of the ladder.

“Ah, Gemma,” he said, returning his gaze front and center with a smile.

Gemma said, “I thought I would find you up here. One of our new customers said they spotted a banker getting ready to jump.”

“Oh? Does your father’s company watch over this building now?”

“It does, as of this morning. It almost didn’t happen this soon because that fundraiser was attacked by some villains.”

“Assassins, actually, but close enough.”

The young woman sat next to Walter. “You’re not actually going to jump from anywhere, are you?”

“No, of course not. I’m just waiting on some people to call me back while two of my friends are out patrolling somewhere that doesn’t get terribly good reception. Meanwhile, I thought I would enjoy the air and think about the days gone by.”

“Oh my god, it’s worse than I thought. You’re not a banker; you’re an old man.”

“Gemma!” He chuckled.

“I looked up the Dallevan League after we met the other day. How did I miss the heroic supergroup known for its wild reputation?”

“Truth be told, I think a lot of the city likes to pretend we didn’t happen. We had our share of adventures, because we were naturally a dysfunctional, loving family the moment we became a team. We had an impact on the city as a whole because our methods were more outlandish than the average person was ready to believe. Then, in a brief period of time, we vanished from the scene.”

“Do you have any favorite stories to tell?”

“A few.”

A sleigh burst through a window, out the side of an office building where a duo of villains were attempting to terrorize and extort money from the company. The fight against the villains led to one thing and another, and one of them fought against a still-male Adamast Cross on the back of the giant sleigh. Mortar Mage stayed at the front, acting like a driver, while he used his magic to slow the sleigh’s descent.

Eventually the sleigh landed on a boat leaving Shiva Bay. Adamast managed to knock out and cuff the villain while they all drifted further away from Paragon City.

“That must have been a fun trip back to Paragon,” Gemma said.

“Fun or them, maybe,” Walter said.

“Why did she—or I guess ‘he’ back then—go with the name Adamast Cross? I always wondered that since I heard the name.”

“One word is the root behind ‘adamant’ and ‘diamond.' The other referred to Adamast’s signature punch to the face at the time. I don’t think I’ve seen her use it lately.”

“Huh. I see.”

“She never was that good with coming up with names. In fact, I think her girlfriend still pesters her about it.”

“I guess that’s why they leave all of the planning and big decisions to you, huh?”

“Not necessarily. Aside from providing them with the things they need, I’ve tried my best to teach them all to think and act on their own when they need to; to come up with their own master plans, especially after more recent events. The problem with that, though, is that being a chess master isn’t for everyone. A small part of me misses being able to live without that particular skill. As for the part of me that enjoys it, well . . .”

An illegal gambling ring had moved into town. It was so bad that people were already starting to lose homes and lives while the group responsible worked underground for one week. Those same individuals behind the gambling ring made a mistake early on. They let slip an email advertisement when Pixeletta was active with the League, but the League had their eyes on the place already for other reasons as well.

The party lasted for a few hours. The gambling organizers who didn’t immediately try to leave couldn’t do anything but watch while they were bound.

Now, Gemma was laughing a little. “You’re crazy.”

”Whoa, what? What is this?” a villain asked, coming to.

It turned out that the villain had always wanted to try bungee jumping as a child, but his parents never let him try anything fun, as he put it. The experience on the bridge awoke those old memories, and made the villain ready to turn himself in, set on a path for redemption.

“Why didn’t you just bring him in?” Gemma asked.

Walter said, “It’s in our nature as heroes to help people. Often times, villains are people who need a hand no one else would give them. It’s why the Dallevan League usually avoids exposure with the media, and the media often leaves us alone when we work. They think we’re somehow laughable and boring at the same time. Meanwhile, Channel 9 still hasn’t figured out who sent them the cake-flavored condoms that one time.”

“Cake-flavored what-now?”

“That was my reaction at first.”

Suddenly, sparkles the size of Gemma’s fist flashed in the air in one corner of the roof. A woman appeared, wearing what looked like a one-piece suit, excluding her tangerine colored sash tied below her visible belly, and her boots. The woman’s mask looked like a folded cloth of the same color, with two holes cut into it.

It had to be Princess Undercut, who hadn’t been seen or heard of in over a month. Gemma had no idea the heroine was pregnant, or even a member of the Dallevan League, before today. For some reason, she was soaked from head down to her ankles.

Princess Undercut said, “Two showers down, and I still feel dirty.”

Walter said, “How did it go? And where’s Diamond Grace?”

“She’s in a bubble bath back at my place. We brought breathing masks with us, but it just wasn’t enough. I don’t know how those people live down there. Still, at least we know that they haven’t seen anything of the Vanquishiri. The only thing they did see or hear was someone digging through the ground, but no one dangerous.”

The heroine sat on the opposite side of Walter and leaned back against the glass of the skylight with a sigh of relief.

After a moment, Princess Undercut said, “Hi, by the way. What’s your name, sweety?”

“This is Gemma,” Walter said.

“Oh, I should have guessed with that large gun you’re carrying around. So what were you both up to before I came here?”

Gemma said, “He was telling me some entertaining stories about your supergroup.”

Was that a giggle, or a low cackle, coming from Princess Undercut? “Was he now? Did he ever tell you about the time . . . ?”

Adamast returned to the mansion with Ohm Wire, and joined the few others in the downstairs observation room.

“Welcome back,” Psi Wizard said.

“Hello,” she said in turn. “Mortar, I have a list of smugglers that we might want to look at if we have time. There’s a chance that at least one of them might know a thing or two about how we can find the Vanquishiri before they cause too much trouble.”

She reached into her top and grabbed the written list that Tucker had provided her and Ohm Wire of possible suspects of smuggling artifacts and jewelry from other countries. Adamast handed the note to Mortar, who looked it over.

“We’ll see what we can do,” Mortar said. “In the meantime, you received a voicemail from someone while you were out.”

“Thanks.” She took her phone off of the charger, and took a look at the call history before checking her voicemail. The call had come from Saelum Blaster.

Author's Note: So uhh... There is a sex scene in this chapter. I don't write very many of them ever, as ironic as that sounds in my own head.

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Chapter 24
-------------

What was with half of the skyscrapers in Talos and being the target or base of a major crime? That was something Adamast Cross had always wondered since coming to Paragon City or joining the Dallevan League. She almost wanted to say that if she had a dime for every time she saw or heard about such a thing then she would have had the money to run such a building of her own.

She entered one possible such place while Saelum Blaster was kind enough to hold the door open for her. A number of people were on their way out the door. It was getting late in the afternoon, and the sun was about to set. Some of these people were leaving to go home, she hoped. Adamast didn’t want to think about the effect arresting their boss might have if it came to that, nor did she want to imagine any of them as willful villains.

The receptionist looked at the heroes and crooked her neck at them. Her eyes gave off the expression that she wouldn’t have understood the color of the sky if anyone told her.

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked.

Saelum Blaster said, “Yes, we’re here to see your boss. We have a few questions for him.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, this is an investigation, and should only take a moment of his time. We could have come crashing into your boss’s window, but we don’t think anyone wants that, do they?”

During the entire conversation, Adamast tried her hardest not to press her hand over her face in embarrassment while the man spoke loud and energetically enough to fill the whole district. She tried to tell herself that it was a turn-off, but the man’s enthusiastic display only served to make her want him more.

When she got home, Adamast was going to have a serious discussion with the mirror.

The receptionist pressed a series of buttons on her phone and talked into her headset. The only amount of listening Adamast did was in hearing out for key words or phrases that sounded suspicious; such as a signal for someone to make a run for it, or an order coming through to remove the visitors by any means necessary.

The woman behind the desk became bewildered after a moment, and then she tapped a button on the phone. She said, “There is a meeting upstairs, but they should be ready for you by the time you get up there. There is an elevator down the hall to your right, second corridor on your left.”

Adamast followed her directions with Saelum Blaster once again at her rear. He caught up before they were halfway down the first hallway, but he let her walk onto the empty elevator first.

Neither one of them had any reason to worry about a trap, because the other members of the League told Adamast that they would follow the contingency plan if they suspect any amount of foul play. So she took a deep breath upon pressing the button to the top floor. Just once, however, she wished that CEOs and the like would have their offices closer to the ground.

She watched the door close, and noticed that none of the surfaces were reflective, only least of all the wooden panels that ran around the middle of the elevator car.

Saelum Blaster opened his mouth to say something, but then the elevator stopped with a jolt that Adamast wasn’t ready for. Her legs gave away. She could have caught herself; she knew she could. However, Saelum caught her first. When he finally let go, Adamast was quick to realize that she was holding him.

Her throat cleared as if something was there. She let go, and pressed the button for the floor they wanted a few times. Nothing. The power was still on, but the elevator wasn’t moving.

“I somehow knew we should have taken the stairs,” said Saelum in an indoor voice.

“Anyone? Come in.” Adamast pressed a finger over the top of her earpiece to let Saelum know she was talking to someone else. No answer. “Can anyone hear me? And what are you doing, Saelum?”

He was waving at something in the ceiling. It was a camera. There was an emergency speaker, but no button to activate it. No voice coming through from the other side. Adamast and Saelum were trapped inside of a little box.

Any attempts to move the door failed as Adamast couldn’t even get a good grip on it.

Adamast punched a dent in the metal wall of the elevator, hoping that she could at least make a hole for air. The metal groaned back at her. A few more hits could either take the wall off, or it could simply reshape the car. She wasn’t sure if continual hits were a good idea.

“Stand back,” Saelum said. “Let me see if I can make a hole.” Good idea. At least his powers were designed to cut into rock if he had to.

The man pointed at the dent and shot a short, thin beam at it. The wall absorbed the beam like a sponge would do to water. Frowning at the results, he examined the floor, and then pointed at the middle.

“Wait,” Adamast said, “you don’t know if that will hit anything that keeps us suspended as high as we are.” Enough time passed before the elevator stopped to where she was sure they were at least ten stories up. “Well, hopefully the others will be quick to notice that something’s wrong.”

She punched the dent again in frustration.

A voice came through the speaker finally, “Sorry to keep you waiting, in there. One of our clients is being difficult and we need a few more minutes. We’re not hopelessly cruel, so we’ll be opening a vent in there for you, should this meeting take all night. No need to worry about swearing or threatening us. This speaker is one w—“

Adamast muffled the speaker with her ice. Then she noticed that their captor was at least true to his word in opening a vent above them. It was circular and located under the ceiling in one corner, however it was too small to climb through if anyone would punch a hole in it.

She tried again to signal her friends now that there was a vent. Still nothing. So she removed the earpiece and turned it off. No use wasting the battery life.

“I should have brought some cards,” said Saelum Blaster.

“Give it a couple weeks,” said Adamast, “and you’d be saying homework instead.”

“Grading homework is a terrible way to spend an eternity. Have you seen half the students’ work I end up with?”

“No, but I’ll take your word for it. So then, how would you rather spend your time in here?”

“With you? Doing anything.”

Adamast suddenly felt hot in here. She checked the vent to see, or feel, if it was blowing any hot air into the elevator car, but it was all her. It was her, and she was trying not to feel giddy about the answer that Saelum gave her.

“What?” Saelum asked.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Adamast said. “I’m just not used to guys telling me things like that.”

“Like what? That you’re pretty, that you’re intelligent, or that I think we relate so well? I know that you’re loyal to the girlfriend you have now, but, even after the times you lead me on, I still love every moment we spend with one another.”

She pushed Saelum up against the wall, trying hard not to break his bones as she did so. Adamast leaned against him. “I love our time together too. It’s so much more complicated than that. You saw me with those horns. What if they come back. What if I kill you when we make love?”

“I thought it was because of you and Ohm Wire.”

“No.” She looked him in the eyes. “She wants us to be open, for my sake. I keep telling myself I want her, and only her. I keep telling myself that it’s easier that way so I won’t hurt either of you. But, I can’t. I can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to either of us.”

“I’m not going to lie, your horns were cute.”

“Saelum.”

“But, the rest of you is better. The rest of you is still here, as I will be. I promise.” He stroked her hair. His gentle caress triggered a less gentle flurry of emotion.

Adamast kissed him on the lips. Suddenly, she didn’t care if it was the last time. The world could end any day. She wanted Saelum, and she wanted him so bad.

He broke off their kiss. “No more games.”

“No. I want you.”

“What about the camera?”

The metal encasing them might have been able to absorb Saelum’s energy beams, but Adamast touch the wall above them and made ice form along the ceiling until it covered and crunched the device.

“What camera?” she asked.

He responded in kind by turning them around. Adamast’s back slammed against the wall of the elevator, and it turned her on more. Why was it turning her on? Why was she breathing so heavy right now? Saelum kissed her again, and she knew the answer to those questions and more. She felt his bulge threatening to destroy her, and she felt like she knew the many answers of the universe.

“Crap,” said Saelum. “I think I left my condoms at home.”

“Birth control, how does it work?” she quipped. No, she wasn’t on it yet, but a run to the doctor or a pharmacy could fix that tomorrow if it came.

She helped Saelum undo his pants while he groped her inner demons out of her left breast with one hand, and held her up by her butt with the other. His hand had already slipped under her skirt and underwear.

There were no words telling Mary that this was her last chance. All she saw was a look in her lover’s eyes that something was coming, now, that she had been waiting for, for so very long. When his own hot, hard endowment stretched the source of her warmth, she cried silently to the heavens that it took too long, and that silent cry became an audible one by the end.

Saelum thrust into her, and she felt every inch of it, and the one after that, and the one after that. Of course she still feared what could happen in the end, but the sensations filling her tied up her fears and locked them in a dark room. She wanted more of him, and he was giving it to her in a slow but powerful rhythm.

Then he did something she never expected. Saelum chomped through her costumed and bra, and into her other breast. She wanted to scream as the man played with her nipple with his mouth. He must have gauged her reaction to it, because he kept going with just the right amount of roughness until it added all that it could to her arousal.

His mouth pulled away from her chest, and he stopped thrusting. Adamast couldn’t understand why he stopped. his mouth and tongue invaded hers before she could protest. Yes, she was putting up a fight with her own tongue, but it was a hopeless victory as she welcomed Saelum’s tongue beyond her lips.

When the blessed, wonderful thrusts continued their rocking of her world, the elevator began to move again. She panicked, and Adamast pushed away from the wall, striking the stop button in her bound. She heaved. What was she doing? This was crazier than anything she had done. Adamast looked back at Saelum, his stud body, handsome and sweet face, and throbbing cock waving in the air.

"I'm yours right now," she said.

Adamast twisted around and lifted her right leg. Saelum needed no further invitation to shove his dick back inside of her. He did so, and suddenly Adamast felt as though she made the best mistake ever. The best! Something hit the nerves inside her vaginal walls, and they were just the right nerves to drive her mad.

She moaned, and choked every scream she could catch, as her lover shoved his member deeper and deeper into her, always pressing against that spot like it were some kink and he were a masseur. It was so good that her senses exploded with pleasure. It left her too weak to stand on one leg, and Saelum caught her before it registered that she fell as a result of a powerful, fulfilling orgasm. Adamast shivered like her ice affected her.

Saelum hoisted her up, and repositioned her body so that she could wrap her arms and legs around him. As soon as she did, they kissed, and he moved into her again. She was afraid of something. Where was that fear again? She didn’t know, and, with the steady rise of her second orgasm on the horizon, she didn’t care. Her man held and cared for her in all of the right ways.

Her sensitive, big breasts rolled against his chest. Her pussy kissed and devoured his length, and yearned for more with each thrust. The softest voice to ever come out of her mouth accompanied her breaths, and she could hear Saelum grunting, softly at first. It picked up in volume while her pleasure picked up in intensity.

It was then she knew what was coming, for both of them, and it was going to come hard. If there was any doubt as to why it was called “coming,” then those doubts were set on fire between Adamast and Saelum making this elevator car hotter than the sun. Her climax was coming. It was here. She couldn’t resist this scream, and neither could Saelum repel his own needs. She hit her plateau of pleasure, and what a wonderful place it was even after she drifted downward from it. There was another warmth in her, but it was another kind. She knew right away that it was her man’s seed.

He lifted her head gently and kissed her again. “I’m here for you.”

“You are,” she said, “You really are.” Since then, the fear she had had packed its bags and left. She flipped it a rude gesture that only such a fear could understand, and she kissed Saelum back.

“You of course realize we need to get out of here,” he said.

“I’m not in any hurry to spoil the moment.”

“Neither am I.”

“But, you’re right. Let go.”

“No, you let go.”

-------------
Chapter 25
-------------

The elevator door opened on the twenty-fifth floor. This wasn’t the tallest tower in Paragon by far, but Adamast thought that she and Saelum Blaster might have taken the longest elevator ride in the history of the city.

As they walked onto the floor, Adamast saw a fight going on all over the place. Members of the Dallevan League were combating forces who appeared to be equipped with rifles and arcane-powered nightsticks.

There was an explosion in one room, and a man went flying from that room into another one across the hallway. The same man happened to scream in a way that sounded like the stupid, fake ones only heard in TV shows and movies. Adamast would have remarked about that, but somehow that was trumped by Ohm Wire appearing a short distance from the elevator.

“What took you guys so long?” Ohm Wire asked.

Adamast Cross opened her mouth to speak, but every word she could come up with was suddenly too embarrassing. She closed it back up and cleared her throat while looking Saelum Blaster’s way. He had an awkward expression of his own.

“No way,” Ohm Wire said. “The two of you?” Her gaze passed them towards the elevator. “In there? Seriously? And I thought I had a kinky side.”

“Ohm Wire,” Adamast began.

“What? Can’t I be happy for my girlfriend?”

“How can you be so accepting of this? And, what the hell is going on up here?”

“We lost the signal to your earpiece. When Mortar hacked this place’s security and found that an elevator had been stopped, we decided it would be a good idea to take action. It’s a good thing, too, because they had more than a dozen guns aimed, and a few flash grenades primed, for when you got up here. As for why I’m able to accept the two of you getting it on, it’s because, well, we’ll talk about it later. OK?”

Saelum asked, “So, what about our original reasons for coming here?”

“Walter’s interrogating the CEO of this business now. Our boss, I mean. He’s got War Lagoon with him.”

Adamast pulled out her earpiece and reactivated it before sticking it in her ear. “Walter?”

“Ah, Adamast!” Walter said over the earpiece. “I trust you and Saelum Blaster are well?”

“Great, Walter. Listen. I don’t know how many of these people are in on the illegal activities around here, but I have a concern about the ones who aren’t. If whoever’s in charge is locked away, I hate think what will happen to everyone’s jobs. Is there any way you can pull some strings to save their employment?”

“I’ll see what I can do. If the front business has to be liquidated, I’ll make sure someone can step in to take over the legitimate business.”

“Thanks.” She removed the earpiece again.

Ohm Wire said, “What was that?”

“That was me, making a change around here. The last thing we need is people losing jobs and risking a life of crime because of something that wasn’t their fault.”

Sure, many of these people could just find work elsewhere. Some might be lucky enough to skip only a week or two of pay, some a month or three. Adamast had seen enough good people turn to desperate measures, which was a dangerous thing in Paragon City, in the west coast city of Cap au Mercy, or a number of places in between.

Now, Mortar Mage and Psi Wizard were rounding up and zip-tying the people who were only doing their job, if it was on the wrong side of the law. Adamast Cross was one of the many people who spent years saying something needed to change. As far as she was concerned, there was no time like the present to make changes.

Her train of thought changed course that moment as well when she noticed Ohm Wire hugging her. Ohm Wire reached over and pulled Saelum Blaster into the hug.

“I’m going to go help them now,” Ohm Wire whispered. “The two of you can take the night off if you want to. And Mary? We’ll talk tomorrow, OK?”

“Thank you, Kyra.” Adamast kissed her, and turned to the stairs. Saelum Blaster followed.

“You’re really lucky to have someone like her,” Saelum said.

“You don’t know the half of it. I’m sorry your investigation didn’t turn out as expected.”

“No, this was a good surprise, I think. Now what? Would you like to come over to my place and maybe watch a movie?”

“That sounds like a date. Let me pick up something from the pharmacy on the way, as well as a change of clothes, and I’m all yours.”

Mary entered his house, Quentin’s house, now that he held the door open for her. She had clenched her sides as though she were bracing for the cold or some alien environment. Neither was true, but the latter was still a hard feeling to shake.

She had never gone inside another man’s house—save for the mansion that the League used as a base of operations—since becoming a woman. In fact, she had a hard time remembering the rare occasions as a man where she entered a girlfriend’s home. Suddenly, there were questions about what to do in this situation.

Where in the house could she go? Was what she was wearing a proper attire? What was the right etiquette? What would she do if tiny, rabid hyenas came crawling out of the different hiding places? Damn it, she needed answers.

“Make yourself at home,” Quentin said as he entered another room.

No, man, do you have any idea what you’ve just said to a woman who’d never been here before?

A message machine beeped, catching her attention. Who still had those in this day and age? There was a woman’s voice that came with the one and only message:

“Quentin? Hi, it’s me, Kathy. I was just wondering if you wanted to grab a drink or a bite to eat before Tuesday. Call me. In case you forgot, my number is . . .”

“Nope,” Quentin said as the message cut off.

“Who was that?” asked Mary, drawing closer to the source of the sound, but still wary of being in an unfamiliar place. Oh, come on, Mary, you’ve been in plenty of places since becoming a superhero.

“That was a coworker of mine. She teaches English.” There was a strange shift in his tone when he said that.

“But?”

“She can’t even spell a third of the words she assigns her students. She’s nice, and usually pretty smart about things, but her own subject she teaches . . . I kinda fear for those kids. Anyways, would you like anything to drink?”

“Maybe later if you have tea.”

“Alright, well, let’s find a movie to watch.”

They decided on an animated movie Mary—David back then—had wanted to see since more than a year before becoming a hero. How it took over seven years to see it, she couldn’t guess. Nor did it matter.

Mary and Quentin laughed at parts, and she leaned in closer as the movie progressed. This felt right, being in his arms, just as being with Kyra did. Now she had two people she had no interest in losing. By all rights, it should have scared her. However, the thought calmed itself when Quentin kissed her on the forehead.

She felt his hand brush softly across the area behind her ear, and her eyes felt the need to rest before the credits could roll.

Mortar Mage ran into the secret lab. The installation of the replacement console should have been complete, and the diagnostic program should have finished. Sometimes, he had to replace wires or other components, which wasn’t easy. Sometimes, the gauge inside the system had a warning that there could be a problem if a minor issue wasn’t addressed right away.

Earlier today he took care of one such issue. He looked at the gauge, and read the information it processed during the diagnostic.

“Potential critical system failure. ETA 2 days, 13 hours, 37 minutes, 22 seconds.”

He clenched his fists. There had to be a way to fix this. Mortar looked up at Tawnya’s tube, remembering the day she found amusement at his new name for her, remembering the day he got her to try ice cream even though androids didn’t need human food.

Yes, of course there was a way. It was something he never wanted to do, but there was a way to save everyone if it meant undoing those wonderful memories.

Finally, after years of being locked away in the deepest depths of the Asylum, he was out. His cell was far behind him, demolished in fact, but now the suppressor cuffs drummed against the ground. The beat died. Perhaps it was trembling too much to keep going. It should have been. Everyone and everything needed to fear Bloodthorn’s return.

It was almost ironic that the key to his freedom was the same clipping device used to remove certain tags in clothing stores.

Thirty-eight cellmates dead, at least one survivor of the seven fled as far from Paragon as they could. No, Bloodthorn was staying here. He had business in this city. He was going to build strength, and then he was going to tear his captors into shreds.

Before that, however, there was an itch he needed to take care of. He felt something creep through his skin. He turned.

A security guard aimed a gun at him. “Freeze!”

The guard was too slow. Bloodthorn threw a bone-colored thorn, and it landed inside of the gun barrel. He still had it after so long.

He charged the guard, raising his other hand with a second thorn that he grew from his skin. Bloodthorn thrust the thorn into the man’s neck. Even in the dark of night, within this closed thrift shop, he could see enough of the guard’s face to revel in what he had done. Oh, it had been too long since he last experienced this.

The itch wasn’t over, however. He turned with a third thorn aimed at the only living company he had left.

A woman sat on top of a clothes rack. She had wings like a vulture. Bloodthorn knew that callous smirk and long hair. He knew that feminine figure of hers too, though he never got to experience any inch of it.

Their cells in the Asylum were close together. There were a handful of dangerous criminals who never escaped that place as often as everyone else seemed to, earning the Asylum a revolving door reputation. She was the only one, save for Bloodthorn himself, who came to mind. When they met, he said that he’d love to get a piece of her. This woman, Carrion, had said she would rape him right back.

Back then, she laughed when she had said that, as though she made some sort of joke. Since then, they were at odds as to how many inmates they could rule, and how, in the chance that they would escape. Here they both were, outside, without any inmates to follow them.

Carrion approached Bloodthorn, his hand and makeshift weapon of choice still extended, and she let the point press against her cheek. She took the thorn in one hand. She stroked her cheek with the thorn’s tip. Then she licked it.

“For me? Ya shouldn’t have.” Carrion took the thorn out of Bloodthorn’s hand. He was too irritated with her to even bother arguing. “It’s not like I didn’t already trust ya. Oh wait, I don’t.” She chuckled.

“What do you want?” Bloodthorn asked.

“I want what everyone wants, including you. I want to stay out of that forsaken Asylum. I want to be free to wreak havoc. Doing so alone means capture, or worse.”

“You’re offering a partnership?” He resisted the urge to spit at her feet. Not because it would have been cliché, but because he didn’t need his DNA leaving a trail so soon.

“No, an alliance. You, me, the other lucky jackasses. I hear there’s a new trio of villains in town. We might even be able to strike a deal with them, even if that deal is making them swear fealty to us as I pound their faces in.”

“Do what you like. I have one goal in mind.”

“And what is that? The death of everyone in the Dallevan League? The massacre of other heroes across the city? You’re not the only one with a vendetta. Ya just so happen to have one of those and a brain. So use it.”

“Do you have a place to hide away until tomorrow night?”

“I can find one,” Carrion said. “Tomorrow night, though? Why so soon?”

“It’s all I need to build up strength. If we ally ourselves with the others, then so be it, but those infernal heroes must fall.”

“Then tomorrow night, the fun begins.”

-------------
Chapter 26
-------------

Diamond Grace kicked down the door. The people inside the warehouse were surprised, or at least they were now scrambling for any combination of weaponry or hiding places. This was the last place in Paragon that the League said they needed checked today, saying I had something to do with crystal smuggling. What Diamond Grace saw instead was signs of crystal meth production.

Ohm Wire and Psi Wizard followed her into the warehouse, and the three of them took down the handful of people working or defending the lab. Diamond Grace worried that the bullets might penetrate her ice armor, but her sister had told her once that she could make it extra dense if she tried. The bullets that came her way stopped halfway into the ice.

She was, ironically, frozen stiff by how close she came to having her first gunshot wound, and her second, and her tenth. She felt a pat on the back through the ice armor, and Diamond Grace found a smiling Psi Wizard nodding to her.

Her armor came down instantly once she let it go.

“Walter,” Ohm Wire said into her earpiece, “this one was a bust as well.”

Walter said, “What was it?”

“Just a meth lab. They probably wouldn’t know where to look for the Vanquishiri if we asked them.”

“Very well. At least we removed a large number of criminal operations from the city. It could always leave room for more, of course, but good work. We’ll just keep an eye on these areas in the future.”

“Now what are we supposed to do? It’s already one in the afternoon, and we’re no closer to finding those guys or stopping them.”

“Yes, and Mortar’s tracking spell didn’t work when he tried it on Judy using, well, Judy. He said that might be the case before we tried it. Oh well. Peter’s offer still stands for tonight. The least we can do is relax while we wait for something to come along.”

“Right. I’ll call Adamast to let her know.”

“Diamond Grace, we’re welcome to join us this evening. We’re going to have dinner with Peter to celebrate his and Warren’s magazine reaching a major milestone.”

She had been helping the other heroes in the room tie up the lab workers when she pressed a finger on her ear. “Thanks for the offer, Walter, but I’ve made plans. I met someone in town the other day, and we’re spending some time together.”

“Look,” Kyra said as she and Mary walked into the mansion, “all I’m saying is that I’m happy you found someone. The way I see it is that you have such a huge heart that it takes more than one person to love you.”

“I’m just not used to the idea of having multiple partners,” Mary insisted.

“I’m aware.” She stopped and grabbed Mary. “Look, I love you. I really do. I also think this Saelum person sounds like a good guy. I can’t speak for him, but I think we’ll both be here for you until we’re all old and gray and telling the young kids about the good ol’ days that never really happened the way we remember it.”

“Longer than that, I hope.”

“Obviously.” Kyra embraced the love of her life. “No more complaining about your sex life, OK?”

“I wasn’t complaining about it.”

“Yes you were,” Kyra jested. “In all honesty, though, I need you to promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“If you and Saelum Blaster . . .”

“Quentin.”

“Quentin! If the two of you ever discuss having kids, include me in the conversation?”

Kyra pulled away from the hug to find Mary blushing, her eyes widened. After a few months and menstrual cycles, the thought of having kids must have finally dawned on her, or finally hit some register in that beautiful head of hers with a mallet. The expression on Mary’s face made Kyra giggle.

“Not funny,” Mary groaned.

“Come on,” Kyra said, “I think you’d be a great mom.”

They continued walking when Kyra heard rapid, heavy footsteps coming from upstairs. Judy entered the room with a panic. She was wearing a nice semi-casual dress.

“Looking cute there, Judy,” said Kyra.

“Thanks, but . . . um.”

“What?”

“I might have, maybe, accidentally told my mom that I knew how to put on makeup, sort of, when I talked to her on the phone earlier, and she’s on her way here.”

“So, do you?”

Judy made an embarrassed aversion with her gaze. That said everything that needed to be said that moment. The poor girl. How did she not know how to do something that Kyra knew how to do since age twelve or earlier? Well, maybe not knew in the strictest sense, but she tried.

And she cried. Clowns were fucking scary.

Mary walked up the stairs and rested a hand on Judy’s back. “Come on. I’ll help.”

“Are you sure?” Judy asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Where’s the bucket of face paint you’re using?”

All Kyra could do now was watch from a distance as Mary once again proved herself to be the most endearing person in the room, with or without her sarcastic quips. She could see the bond there between the two women after so many years that Kyra had missed, but now she was a part of it all.

Mortar Mage wandered through the underground tunnel network with a gas mask to go along with the spell he’d activated to keep a number of . . . not-fun stuff . . . off of his clothes. Not all tunnels were bad. Still, he was ready for them, and he lugged a sack over one shoulder as he treaded through the subterranean space.

He turned a few corners into one of the better tunnels, and Tunnel Hound was there waiting for him.

“The big man, himself,” said Tunnel Hound.

“How’s your progress going?” Mortar asked.

“It’s done. I just finished five minutes ago.”

“Down to the letter?”

“Man, it’s down to the grain of sand. Everything is how you asked for it.”

“Good, good.” Mortar pulled a check out and gave it to Tunnel Hound. The former minor villain examined the check and nodded before stuffing the check into his back pocket. “I have a question for you. Do you have any friends or family in the Paragon area?”
“I might know a few people. Why? You got another job for me?”

“Something big is about to go down. I don’t know if leaving state lines will be far enough, but if you have anyone in Paragon that you care about, I suggest you head out of town as soon as possible.”

“Is it anything to do with the digging job you had me do?” Mortar only gave Tunnel Hound the coldest glare he could, which probably wasn’t cold enough to scare a baby. “Say no more. Thanks for the tip.”

Tunnel Hound left through his signature method of jumping into anything made of dirt or stone, leaving a disheveled spot in the wall behind him.

Now, Mortar thought, it was time to get to work on something he needed. He gave the sack over his shoulder a good heft, and then he walked to the first location.

Devon closed the old book, his mind and body feeling weary from the minimal sleep and the few scraps of food those Vanquishiri gave him. He wanted to read and learn more, but he couldn’t take in any more if he tried. College was never this bad.

Back then, he could choose more comfortable places to read, larger meals or more frequent snacks when he could remember them, and showers. When was the last time he bathed? A man with his degrees should never have to ask that.

He looked toward the sound of feet crunching against the sand and small twigs. Vidnyanta and the other two had finally come out of their little cave.

“It is time,” was all she said.

She took the full force of a hug that she could barely see coming. Judy’s mom embraced her, and placed a wrapped box on her lap before sitting down in the seat next to her. Their party had been seated toward the middle of the restaurant.

“What’s this?” Judy asked.

Her mom said, “It’s a little something I picked up. Your aunt strikes again.”

“Remind me to ask her her secret.”

“Feel free, but I’ve been trying since before I wedded your father. Now I know why she never sent anything for your funeral.”

“Let’s not talk about that.”

“No. Let’s not. You look good, by the way. Where did you learn how to put on your makeup?”

“A friend taught me.”

Before their conversation went any further, there was a tapping of silverware against a glass of wine. Peter was standing, and everyone else at the dinner table fell silent.

Peter said, “Thank you, everyone. Warren said he’d be a little late, so I’m going to go ahead and say a few words for the both of us. Six years ago, this summer, we embarked on a journey to reconcile the gap between science and magic most people believed to exist. Science and Mysticism grew faster and greater than we dreamed it would. Take it from me, I’m half-dragon, and the result of several scientists’ dreams. I would like to thank you all for being Warren’s friends, and my favorite guests to have ever graced the house we grew up in. You have all been an inspiration to keep going, just as much as our many subscribers in the US.”

He tipped his glass to a cheer around the table, and then he drank from it.

Judy wished she could at least try alcohol tonight. Something told her that her mom would tell her no, even though her twenty-first birthday was only a few months away, assuming months continued to exist in another day or two.

She looked over to where Mary was sitting. Kyra and a man Judy had never met before were assaulting her with playful gestures from both sides. Apparently, Kyra was the one to call and invite Quentin, while Mary wasn’t looking, and his arrival was a surprise for Mary. Five or more years ago, Judy would never have imagined David to be in a relationship like this, but now here was Mary, fully realizing this revelation for herself.

“So, sweety,” said Tatiana, who sat across the table from Judy, “are you going to open your gift? Not to pry, but I’m pretty curious as to what it is.”

“Knowing my aunt Takako, it’s probably some embarrassingly cute dress that I’ll end up loving no matter how much I kick and scream about it.”

“Haha, I remember my mother doing the same for me when I was a teenager. Where does your aunt live?”

“She’s in Japan. Somehow, she manages to make and send us things when we say so little. Like, Mom, what did you tell her after I came back?”

Her mom had just ordered a glass of wine when she asked that question. “I was working up the courage to tell her. I called her, but the words wouldn’t come. She told me that it was alright, and something was in the mail.”

“Does Patrick know?”

“No, but I told him that whatever he hears, I still don’t want him stepping one foot outside of that prison. At this point, I think he’s tired of the threats he gets from people, but that’s too bad. You deserve better than what he did.”

Judy raised her eyebrow at her mom. So far, this was the most anyone told her about what had happened. Judy felt like she might have written something about it somewhere, but that couldn’t have happened. Walter whispered something in her mom’s ear to the effect of her not remembering that day, and it prompted an “Oh.”

Judy shook her head, and went about opening the light box on her lap. The wrapping was nice while it lasted. The box was beige and plain as, well, a box. If she commented on as much, she wondered if Wyatt would suggest boxing the designer over it if she were to have commented out loud. She removed the lid, and there was the last thing she expected to see right now.

With a gasp, she lifted the outfit from the box. It was a new costume modeled after her old one. The fabric was a little different. A cape had been attached to where the neck and shoulders would meet. It was probably her size, knowing her aunt.

The waiter, who had returned and handed Judy’s mom her wine, gaped.

Devon followed the others past an upended car toward a group of people laughing in the middle of the street by a couple of small fires. Half of those people looked like they had just gotten out of prison, and the other half looked like they at least had time to scrounge up their clothes.

“Hey, who’s this?” asked one woman, still garbed in prison grays. Devon thought people stopped dressing like that in the 90s.

One man—with dark skin, and braided hair running against his scalp and falling behind his neck—said, “It’s that one fool who appeared on the bridge when I tried to leave.”

Cingeteyrn said, “I see you took my advice. Is this all the party you can muster?”

“The fun’s only started. Isn’t that right, Dreamreaver?” He looked back toward a man who was holding a police officer with one hand, and raising his other hand while holding eye contact.

The officer looked petrified. The officer’s face streaked forward for a moment, and he screamed. Dreamreaver grinned before dropping the officer to the ground, leaving the officer twitching and drooling on the ground. The villain’s grin turned toward Devon’s group, and Devon averted his gaze out of instinct and disgust.

He had no doubt in his mind that they were all villains. Who they were and where they came from wasn’t important.

Just then, the first woman who’d spoken out about their presence screeched out in laughter and pointed up toward the early evening sky. A strange line shot from her finger as she did so. The line vanished in seconds, and Devon had no idea how or why in addition to what it even was.

“This is what we like to see and hear,” Vidnyanta said. “Yes, I have no doubt that this city will burn because of you, because of all of us.”

A big man, who twirled some sort of spike or thorn in his hand, said, “You sound like a psycho nutcase. What’s with the spider mask?”

Vidnyanta flicked her wrist, and something thick and white shot out at the man. It yanked him forward into her grasp. “That’s because I am, on a good day, and I think these sheep are all out of good days.”

She let him go before his stunned look could wear off. Then she walked forward to join the gathering of villains. Her feet lifted a few feet into the air, her arms spread.

“Tonight,” she said, “you all have an easy choice to make. I know the choices and actions you’ll take, but they’re yours. Tonight, we burn this city and ravage the hearts of those who call themselves heroes. Days ago, I set out to find a curious truth that shielded itself from me before I destroyed everything around it. My companions and I have prepared for this moment to rise to our greatest glory. So, who among you will deny this chance? Who among you thinks you want nothing to do with tearing this disgusting, marvelous city and its people apart?”

“How about the man with the answers?” asked a man from several yards behind Devon.

Vidnyanta whipped around to face him, and Devon turned as well. There stood a hero that he recognized, but wasn’t sure of the name.

The big man with the thorn is his hand hissed, “Mortar Mage.”

Author's Note: The final conflict of the trilogy begins, not to overshadow one scene in this chapter...

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Chapter 27
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That half a dozen of the Asylum escapees were here with the Vanquishiri Bahitians did not bode well. Mortar Mage tried to put names to their faces, but only the big man Bloodthorn, the woman with the vulture wings Carrion, and the other woman Needlepoint, came to mind. He had to assume the other three were just as bad, not just for where they had been locked up.

Bloodthorn leaped for Mortar, several long thorns sprouting from his body, but Mortar threw down a gadget and stepped aside. He let the gadget explode into a taffy-like substance to hold Bloodthorn a moment while Mortar walked forward.

“I’m not here to fight you assholes,” Mortar said.

The hovering woman with the spider mask said, “With my sight, you shouldn’t be here at all.”

“Precognition, is it? Good. I don’t like being watched when I work. It ruins the surprise.”

“Who are you? How are you able to elude my sight?”

The muscular member of the Vanquishiri said, “This one’s just a mere mortal.”

“I’m both a scientist and a high-level magician, wizard, sorcerer . . . whatever you wish to call it. It just so happens that my father is a demi-god.”

“Pfft . . . Still a mere mortal.”

“I am using a spell that misaligns my presence within the timeline. Psychics have difficulty reading me, people with full awareness of the present regardless of location can’t see me unless they use their own eyes, and precogs of any sort are unable to watch me or any object I am directly working on. It’s a spell I learned during my time in the eternal realm.”

The one with Stone’s face said, “That cannot be possible, not unless a god or a demi brought you into the eternal realm.”

“For a time that was true. Then, one day, in a not-so-strict sense of the time, a number of banished gods returned to the eternal realm and used the plot of a mad scientist to their advantage. The Earth, this one, was pulled little by little into the eternal realm until the fighting amongst the gods during their war touched down on the mortal realm. Then a little more until it drove people mad with trauma no mortal could withstand. Then, finally, they threw this version of Earth into the End of the Universe. The androids used to start this mess were again used to close the rift between us an nothingness. You can try it now, but you’ve probably noticed you can’t go back to that realm.”

Mortar turned his head harshly at the one called Devon Tartakovsky. “And you. You had to pry into the truth, into my family’s records. I hope you’re happy with the result. Now, what do you lot suppose will happen if I open that rift? Who among you is ready for absolute nothingness?”

“We can kill you now,” said the muscular Vanquishiri.

Bloodthorn, who broke free of his restraint, said, “I can agree with that. Tear him apart.”

“If you kill me now,” Mortar said, “the rift will open on its own and do worse than kill you. You won’t even be a memory. It is timed to do just that.” He saw the woman with the spider mask come down, and Mortar walked toward her. “I can let it go unless you give my friend back her body.”

“Impossible,” she said.

“She already came back from the dead. Don’t tell me what is or isn’t possible anymore. I want you to give her back her body, take your friends, and leave. You have eight hours, or I will make sure you never get to see even the burning of an insect. None of you will see anything. Consider this my only warning.”

“That’s enough,” said Devon. “Look, I don’t know what is wrong with you people, and I don’t care. I came here to study the facts because this city is a hotbed for the unknown. This is the city of Paragon!”

Suddenly, there was a sound from above of metal and wood twisting in ways it wasn’t meant to. A billboard fell from the top of a building, and it crashed in the middle of the gathering of metahumans and bodysnatching gods.

Mortar Mage formed a portal with his magic, and tackled Devon into it while everyone else was still reacting to the falling billboard. The portal closed behind him. Mortar stood while Devon crashed into the ground.

They were on the edge of town where a cliff overlooked the city. This was a common spot for tourists to enter the area. Fitting, Mortar thought.

He pointed forcefully at Devon. “I hope it was worth it. Some things people are just not ready to know. The metahumans in the nineteenth century and earlier, the things people with powers had to do to be safe, the reason I kept so much knowledge of the events four ago to myself; all of it!”

“I know. I know.” Devon held up a hand.

“My mother’s family held secrets that were dangerous. The average person, whether here or out there,” he pointed outside of the city, “can become mad or dangerous with that knowledge. Do you know how metahumans were treated in the 1800s? Imagine that, but worse. Now, because you had to find the answers, many good heroes have to face a half dozen highly dangerous criminals in addition to the banished gods.”

“I’m sorry, OK? You can’t tell me what I did was wrong. You can’t just stand there and tell me that everything you say and do is right.”

“No. I don’t care what you do now, just so long as you leave Paragon. Tonight.”

“Is that a threat?”

Mortar opened another portal. With an exhalation of relief, he smiled. “It’s a warning. The world could very well end. You don’t want to be here when it does.”

It might be better to be blissfully unaware.

“It’s like,” Wyatt said, “I ran into ol’ Exspira the other day. He passed through me on his way to the bar.” Tatiana gave him a smack upside the head. “Worth it.”

All Mary could do was shake her head and continue to drink her water. She heard Quentin utter a small groan to her right. Perhaps someone, either she or Kyra, should have warned him about Wyatt’s bad jokes.

“Welcome to the family,” she said. “Oh, there he is!”

Warren entered the general vicinity of the long table where the whole group sat. It had been a long time since the whole League sat together in a public restaurant like this, Mary realized, not to mention it was about time that Warren arrived.

“Sorry I’m late,” Warren said. “Hello, and you are?” He stuck a hand out toward Quentin.

Quentin shook it. “Quentin Sullivan. I’m a friend of Mary’s.”

“Boyfriend,” Mary and Kyra both chimed in.

“And that.”

“Are you that one hero I saw her with last night?” Warren asked.

“That would be, uhh . . .”

“Congratulations. Fair warning, though, Mary is one of three people in the universe I consider to be a sister. And Mary, save some for the rest of us.”

Kyra laughed while Warren walked over to the only empty seat at the table. The waiter came by with food and a drink all ready for him. Warren thanked the waiter, and again for Peter. Peter must have ordered for Warren some time ago.

She didn’t want to jinx anything by saying that this was a relaxing evening, but she then saw Walter examining his phone with a sigh. It was the sort of sigh that often came with bad news of some kind or another.

“Mortals, hear me!” a voice boomed from out of nowhere. It stirred various reactions around the restaurant as people wondered where it was coming from. Was it the stereo? No, the subtle music was still going in the background. “Your night of retribution has come. A few of your best have already threatened us, but I am Nervaeus. We are the Vanquishiri Bahitians. And you, even your strongest, are cattle.”

Everyone around the restaurant stared silently. Everyone except for Warren.

“I hate it when my warnings don’t take,” Warren said.

“Warren,” the party around the table said.

“Here I was thinking we could have a few hours at least. I guess I’ll have to box this up already. Has everything been paid for already?”

“It has,” Peter said.

“Walter, I think we need to go Code Alpha on this one, the works.”

Most of everyone at the table nodded immediately, though slowly. Mai grimaced with a deep breath and nodded too eventually. Quentin asked, “What’s a ‘Code Alpha?’”

Mai guided her daughter into the mansion from behind. “OK, go change and grab whatever you need.”

“What about you?” Judy asked. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yes.” As her daughter climb the stairs with her new costume in hand, Mai turned to Walter. “What will you be doing?”

Walter said, “Directing as much as I can while helping people to safety. Curious, did Judy’s new costume come with new boots?”

“No, but I ran to the store to buy them and sneaked them into her room before we left here to go to dinner.”

“Holy crap!” Judy shouted from upstairs.

“See?” She noticed a peculiar smile coming from Walter. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking that tonight would be a good night for even older heroes to appear, including lost idols. I’ll be in the living room while I wait, I think.”

That was not something Mai wanted to hear. She spent years resisting the urge to go out and be a hero. She spent years shaming herself for letting the unthinkable happen. Being on the other side of the country at the time was still a terrible excuse in her mind. Tonight, her daughter was going out again. Tonight, her daughter might not be ready for it, but there was no more waiting. She always was a girl who made her own miracles.

Mai touched the wall on the side of the stairway, and looked up. She remembered a “boy” parading around in a mini Swan Diva costume, her sister pointing out the “boy’s” favorite color, and the baby girl coming out. She remembered one fateful day when her own hands were forever changed by a single action, and Judy was there to defend her. She remembered when her baby girl set out to follow a path that she might have known too well herself.

She looked down, and noticed that her feet had already carried her to the top of the stairs. She could have turned back, but no. She was done running.

Alright, I’ll do it. I’ve put this on for too damn long.

She made her way to the attic. Judy might have noticed her heading this way, but she didn’t follow or call out to her. Mai knelt over by the chest full of so many memories. She opened it. At the top, there were two costumes. The one on the left was the old Pixeletta costume. The other . . .

Mai kicked away her heels, slipped off her dress, and reached for her hero’s uniform.

Her full-facial mask and wig went on last, just as it always did. The mask allowed for the essentials—sight, breath, speech—but it covered her full identity as a mother and a hostess at a restaurant. It felt good to be her other self again. She turned, and at the doorway stood a stunned young woman in a costume.

Pixeletta, at long last, put her new boots on. They were styled a little different from her old ones she used to wear, but she liked them. Perhaps, given time, she might like them more. Having this small, light cape on her back, reaching barely past her bra, however, that was an entirely new experience that left her a little giddy.

She had to show her mom. More than that she needed to see her once more before the evacuation went underway, or things got too crazy. More than that, she really had to show off her new look to her mom.

The hallway wasn’t necessarily a long one, even before counting the turn she had to make to reach the stairs leading further up. Pixeletta climbed, somewhat curious as to why her mom would have come this way.

Once she was at the doorway, she stopped. Her eyes widened just in time for the only person in the attic to stand and turn. It was Swan Diva.

Many feelings exploded inside of Pixeletta. They wanted to erupt all over. She walked so slowly to her lifelong idol, who stood only as tall as she did now. Pixeletta reached with one hand to adjust the shoulder on Swan Diva’s costume. Tears flowed into her eyes, but Pixeletta held them.

Then, after an eternity, she threw her arms around her mother. Of course it was her. Of course she knew. And, of course one tear broke free while her greatest hero hugged her right the hell back.

[“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,”] Swan Diva said in Japanese. The same feelings flooded her own voice.

[“I wanted to hear you say it for longer. We’re both here now.”]

[“Thank you, Judy.”]

“Let’s go save the world.” Pixeletta took her mother’s hand, and they walked down to the first floor.

Princess Undercut teleported into the living room with her husband. She knew that talking right away sometimes unsettled people when they still only saw her sparkling teleportation—something she had only ever seen on video—but she didn’t care. There wasn’t much time to care.

She said, “We’re here. Who’s got the suppressor cuffs, in case we need them?”

Walter tossed her a pair. “Here you go. The alpha frequency has been tested, and we’re good to go on that end.”

“Perfect. Is Judy gearing up? Whoa!”

Her answer came faster than expected, yes, but Princess Undercut did not expect to see Swan Diva walk into the room with Pixeletta.

“This is a little awkward,” Swan Diva said, “but do you have a couple of spare earpieces for the two of us?”

“Yes, right here, Mai,” Walter said, heading over to a drawer where the extra masks and earpieces were kept. He clicked another device in his hand while two earpieces here in the other. “There we go. Everyone in the League who’s working the field will be able to talk to everyone within range across the city. We’ll be passing the frequency along to team leaders as we find them. Here.”

The two heroines put their earpieces inside of their ears. Swan Diva said, “Well then, let’s get moving. Ju—Pixeletta, would you like to fly with me?”

“Yes,” Pixeletta said.

“I’ve been waiting twenty years to hear you say that.” She ruffled up Pixeletta’s hair.

“Mom!”

They laughed as they walked out of the house. Princess Undercut stood there, gaping. This was more surreal than that time a satellite crashed down and injected her with tiny robots that altered her body to allow for superpowers. It was far more surprising than when Wyatt proposed to her.

“Computer,” Walter said, “turn out the lights while we’re away, would you?”

A tin voice said, “Right away.”

Somewhere in Paragon City, there was a sound of boots marching. Then they appeared. Men in skintight black outfits and smaller versions of tiki masks entered the city. They marched through the city streets, their mere appearance unnerving or outright scaring a number of witnesses.

One unit with an organized number of these men stopped once their number stretched past a few buildings. The flanks checked the doors, and a handful of the troops marched into the buildings carrying something on their backs.

The unit proceeded in its march, and explosions burst from those same buildings that the troops broke into seconds before.

Now people were screaming. Now they were running.

A reporter sat waiting when the broadcast began. Countless homes, not just in Paragon City but also the world, were watching her.

“Could the world be ending as we know it? Find out. Here, at eleven.”

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Chapter 28
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Mortar Mage carried a box into his lab. It had the vile with the aelshinyx sample he’d taken before the big crystal had been taken away days earlier. It held supplies for powerful spells he had not performed in a long time. It held a book, the only one he had, that detailed potent soul magic in all its grotesque grandeur.

If it wasn’t for the smugglers the League had taken down last night, the Circle would never have had so much power in Paragon, and their strongholds and artifacts wouldn’t have littered the city after they were gone. That was the only conclusion Mortar Mage had. If it wasn’t for those smugglers of artifacts, the Vanquishiri wouldn’t have been so powerful now.

Blaming anyone didn’t change what he had to do to fix things.

He set aside his materials and set down the book before opening it. Mortar flipped through a few pages before smacking his own forehead and looking in the back for an index. What? No index! This search for the right spell was going to take a while.

Orange lights flashed in a few corners around the lab. He looked at them with a blank stare. Those meant something. Then he remembered.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

The President strolled into the Oval Office after spending an evening at another lavish party, telling people the nation had lots of work to do. He undid his cufflinks while perusing the stack of papers that found a new home on his desk while he was away. More bills, more policies.

He chuckled to himself. Tonight, he had had a little fun at the party by passing around a napkin with various scribbles and the title “I Am Awesome Act.” He let the news pundits from both sides see it, knowing that at least a third of them would overreact to it. At this point, that was the real joke.

Someone knocked on the door. “Mr. President. We have a potential situation.” The man held a thick folder. It was a shame the man didn’t look spooky or mysterious, or carry a cigarette. There were some things the president never wanted to change.

“What kind of situation?” he asked.

“It’s about Paragon City.”

“Paragon? Is it another Event?”

The man handed over the folder. “It appears to be a bit of everything, sir. Everything but her.”

Documents summarizing recent events and an anonymous tip took up the whole of the folder, barring the few necessary pictures to push the point. Otherworldly crystals, superpowered criminals of the highest caliber breaking out of a major facility, grave robberies, classified reports involving a series of gang war outbreaks, sightings of a young woman brought back from the dead, and another appearance from them.

Diamond Grace kicked another of these freaky foot soldiers to the ground. Or was it the same one? It was hard to tell with how they dressed and moved so much alike. The ones with the bigger masks chased down people in the streets, while the ones in smaller masks kept marching.

She heard Trash Knuckle laughing behind her. He seemed to be having a time of his life trashing the larger-masked creeps.

Where were these things coming from? Diamond Grace hoped the answer could be found and resolved quickly. She feared how much of a disaster this night could become if the presumably human things weren’t dealt with.

Off to the side, she saw a random hero and villain she’d never seen before duking it out, their powers tearing through the air.

Multiple tiki-freaks, or whatever they’re supposed to be called, jumped Diamond Grace at once. She braced for impact, knowing that her limited fighting skills that she had learned from watching her father duel a punching bag would only get her so far. She was going to knock down what she could before they wailed against her ice armor.

Then someone moving at a blinding speed kicked into the side of one attacker, and then swung a weapon of some sort against another. It was Adamast Cross, and she was beating down the tiki-freaks with a parasol as if it were an average day in the park. Diamond Grace literally couldn’t grasp what she was seeing.

“Welcome to the party,” cheered Trash Knuckle. He charged again at the marching tiki-troopers.

Adamast rested the now-open parasol on her shoulder. “Swell. Here, take this.” She tossed something tiny to Diamond Grace. It looked like a device that she could put in her ear. She had used one of these earlier today, and knew that the earpiece could resist heat and cold to a certain degree. “It’s set to the main frequency everyone in the League is using; us and every other cape in the city, actually.”

Diamond Grace said, “Cool. Look . . . out.” She had tried to warn her sister against an attacker, but Adamast punched the large tiki mask in the nose, like they both learned from their father, with hardly more than a glance. It busted open the mask as the freak went flying backward.

“And we’re a-moving.” Adamast smiled and ran off.

Once her sister was gone, Diamond Grace stepped close to the freak that Adamast had punched. She recoiled with a hand over her mouth when she saw its face. It was like a patchwork quilt of human flesh, its eye sockets burned out.

What the Hell were they fighting?

Swan Diva landed on the pavement, and she and her daughter let go. Long ago, she had hoped to treat it as a flying lesson, but this was never that time. That time might never come, and she learned to live with that fact.

“Alright, you know the plan,” Swan Diva said.

“Yep,” Pixeletta said, “help the civilians, call if someone shows who I can’t handle alone. Good luck.”

Pixeletta ran off to some frightened civilians who were likely on their way home from work, shopping, or eating out when the shit hit the fan. Luck? Swan Diva never needed luck. But she was grateful for it.

She turned and wasted no time yanking a “Slow” sign out of the nearby sidewalk. Swan Diva used her flight to charge and swing at a group of tiki mask bearers marching in the streets. Her first swing thrust a few bodies into the air and resulted in a man shouting “Whoa!”

It was Captain Patriot, the younger, who was descending mid-flight. “Careful, there. You might kill someone.”

“They’re already dead.” Swan Diva took another swing. "Reanimated corpses, I’m told.”

“Hey, you kinda look like Swan Diva. Has anyone told you that?”

“Has anyone told you that you look like your father?” Another swing. Then she backed away quickly when one of the tiki mask bearers raised its arms in fury, growled an unearthly sound, and a wisp of vapor arose from the pack on its back. “Look out!”

The one reanimated corpse marched at her at a high pace. Captain Patriot grabbed and lifted the mask bearer, and it exploded in his hand. The blast knocked him sideways, but he remained unscathed. Knowing his father, he could have taken a whole lot more than that.

“What was that?” Captain Patriot asked.

“They’re carrying explosives,” Swan Diva said. “I know you can take it, but most of the city can’t.”