“Gels! I need MP gels. Get him to bite on a red,” BoJack ordered as he continued to work, biting savagely on a gel and chewing aggressively as his hands trembled on Grimdark’s back. “More!”
The others fed him gels and the material just kept coming, flowing like toxic pus.
“There. He’s stabilizing. I’m not. Losing. Anyone. Else,” he gasped in fitful breaths. BoJack appeared to age visibly with the effort.
Everyone cheered when Grimdark moaned and asked, “Wha’ happened?” in a dazed voice.
BoJack slumped back on his heels, eyes drooping. “I’m tapped, cuz. Imma need a nap…” he slurred and his head dropped down on his chest. He almost fell forward onto a pile of extracted darts but Darik grabbed him and held him.
“That sucked,” Yuki said.
“Not only that, we’re still stuck here.”
Chapter Eighty-Four
Karma
The scanners couldn’t detect enough of his unique biopattern to identify him!
Mengele directed Focused Heal on his face. It itched like ants swarming over him but he resisted touching it. The action burned through a fifth of his total MP, a hefty price, but he knew what the defenses would do to him without his suit.
The pale light played across his head again.
Insufficient data. Scans inconclusive for authorized personnel. Evacuate this area in five seconds, or retributive actions will be taken.
Panels slid open and six turrets whirred to life as their cyclotrons began to spin as they powered up.
I definitely have to recalibrate these in the future to accept more than just surface scans. The healing was cannibalizing some of his own tissue for building blocks to create the skin at an accelerated pace. He hoped he wouldn’t go through all of this and his outward appearance would not be changed enough to satisfy the scans.
He held as still as he could as the burning itchy feeling spread over him, burning like a butane torch as it progressed over the rest of his body. He poured everything he had into the process, mentally counting down the remaining seconds until the turrets spun to life, squinting against the scanning light playing up and down him.
Identified. Welcome Dr. Mengele. Would you like to access the Vault at this time?
“Why yes, I would.” He nodded to Gus, tipping an imaginary top hat, then took one step.
And promptly collapsed to the floor.
Gus stood at the imaginary border where the scanners would kick in. Mengele had just taken a faceplant and was just lying there quivering. The system had recognized him at last, but the turrets were already in position and primed to fire. Angry barrels under the turrets spun, whined, and pulsed. He looked back between Mengele and the turrets. This was going to hurt.
But hasn’t this always been my problem? Indecision and doubting, afraid of imagined consequences that may never happen. Fear of pain, real or imagined. And no one there to support me in the moment of choice.
Really though, when the chips are down, the only one I’ve really ever been able to count on is myself. Especially when the tank is empty, and I have nothing left to give. The thought came to Gus about the sad state of most humans, that most people were running on empty tanks, expecting others to fill them up when, really, it was something people often have to do for themselves.
I’ve held a lot of resentment at those whom I felt should have taken it upon themselves to help out, whether it be my parents, the Crew, or even Nick. Relying on others, with all their own imperfections, and wondering why I keep getting disappointed that there’s no effort to meet my actual needs, and not what they think is best for me—or the least effort.
No epiphanies or even any warm fuzzies came as he stared at Mengele lying there. No one would know if he beat this monster right here, right now, and was consumed in the process. But compared to the pain he had endured in the last days, his desires of acceptance and camaraderie seemed small in scope.
I’m going to just keep on, doing the things I know I should. Constantly repeating the mantra: seek right action, not right results. I have to become someone else. Someone who is not affected by the lack of support. Someone who can be even more self-sufficient and overcome, despite all the people actively and passively trying to pull me down. And not get distracted by being disappointed or angry at those who are so caught up in their own lives that they aren’t able to lend a hand.
I’ve made it this far. I can make it the rest of the way. I’m sure when I get there, a lot of people will come out of the woodwork, like in Henny Penny, tapping themselves on the back that they were ‘so supportive.’ And I’ll let them believe that delusion. But I’ll be all the stronger for it, having had to improve myself to get what I need. To shore up my own belief system to create something of this broken, defective shamble I call my life. To work at the diamond in the rough that everyone passes over as worthless until it shines in majesty after it is cut and shaped.
I am not content lying underground, being unnoticed and of little use. If those closest to me can’t see me for who I am, I will shine brighter and brighter until I find my tribe. And nothing is going to stop me.
Gus took a step toward Mengele and the turrets shifted and targeted him. Gus activated Intermediate Shield and stepped forward purposefully. He grunted as multiple beams began striking the shield, causing resistance as he pressed forward. He leaned into it and pushed, watching the shield integrity sizzle down like a lit fuse.
I am just going to keep pushing myself until I feel better. Like when I get a cold, yet still have to work. Just power through the feelings of malaise and weariness. I will not lose momentum. I think this is where I hit the stumbling blocks with my goals. I get this storm of trials and then I hunker down in survival mode trying to make it through, and everything I built gets tossed around and destroyed. Habits broken, progress lost, and so on. From here on out, I am staying out in the storm. Progressing. Relentlessly. Even if it takes a while to achieve my aims, I will push through.
Gus crouched and powered through the resistance, pushing with powerful legs to move the shrinking bubble of the shield closer to his enemy.
Just because I don’t feel support from others, I won’t let that shape my behavior in supporting them. I made that promise to myself all those years ago when I was just a reg. The world needs this guy gone. And I will get it done!
The shield imploded and Gus felt multiple spots of intense heat, burning pokers pressed against his skin. Before he had met Mengele in person and been subject to his whims, he might have flinched away. Though the sheen of hybrid-Nth covering him rallied to deflect some of the energy, he still felt the white-hot beams bleed through and burn into him.
Mengele’s arm twitched and fingers crawled, pulling his arm toward the large opening door.
No you don’t!
Gus heaved and took a large step. It was like trying to wade into the ocean against the pounding surf, but he timed his movement to force himself to go on. Gus tried to absorb the energy but something about these beams refused to respond to the ability.
Mengele chuckled as he pushed with a leg, looking like a drunk frog scuttling on the ground. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder at Gus.
“Those beams will overcome you regardless of what ability you use against them, my poor boy. I’m afraid you’ll never reach me. I’m already regaining enough stamina to escape.”
“No!” Gus roared. The intensity only felt like it was increasing as he moved closer to the turrets, and they adjusted subtly to remain focused on him. Gus was forced to a knee and it took a massive effort to get back to his feet. He felt the strain from his shoulders to his heels as every muscle flexed to resist the pressure.
Meanwhile, Mengele was crawling ever quicker into the room beyond and was lost from sight, the bright beams and their energy spatter hiding him from view. Doubts of how he was going to fail again, like he always did, began to crawl into the fringes of his mind. Gus pressed forward in spite of them, his resolution crushing them like a ha
mmer. He had been through hell. He could do this.
He reached a point where he could not move forward. He was being supported at an unnatural angle as he pushed and leaned and the beams pushed back. Pain increased, but touched a memory. He had been introduced to the thirty-one flavors and types of pain on a regular basis, and this one was distinct.
When he saw it, he kicked himself that he didn’t notice it sooner.
The beams are made entirely of that new energy!
At the realization, a new tab appeared on his display amid the perception filters and he could visualize the energy, connected to the turrets and extending into the walls, down to some large turbine far below. Looking to his newfound channels he saw that they were completely empty, scoured clear when he had poured it all into the suit. Some kind of entrainment had yanked every residual amount of the red energy out of him. But what if…
He tried to funnel some of the energy toward the empty center at the base of his spine. The pain dropped by degrees. It was surprising how slowly it was filling in comparison to the sheer intensity of the energy he had been fighting against.
He opened himself more and the beams actually began to bend, concentrating on the internal spinning disk. It began to glow and spin quicker and energy began to cycle along the four paths up and down his legs, then returned to the central disk. It felt like he had a miniature CERN inside of him, except that all the energy was traveling one way—for now.
He pushed forward as the resistance waned, stepping with more surety and speed as the energy filled him. It was nowhere near filling even the smallest section of his pathways by the time he reached the doorway. Mengele was there at a cupboard cramming gels into his mouth.
But that was not what made his jaw drop open.
Chapter Eighty-Five
I Won’t Back Down
Accept party invite? (Y/N)
Gus numbly accepted the prompt.
“Is that Gus?” Harmony pointed. “What’s he wearing? He looks like a Ken doll.”
“Who cares about that? Get in there before the door closes,” Darik said, herding the others inside. BoJack was still kneeling, so Darik hoisted him over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry and moved him to the room beyond.
“Ah, so the cavalry did decide to come.” Mengele turned to face Gus. “I’m a little disappointed in you, really. I thought you were one of those sulky lone-wolf types. I should have known better.”
“Dude! Why is everyone naked?” Harmony asked, taking in the scene. “What’s been going on here?”
Mengele looked down at himself and shrugged. “Hmm. Yes. You’ll have to ask your friend about that, he’s the one who removed my clothes.”
Questioning eyes panned to Gus, who stared back in surprise. “You guys came for me? But why?” Movement at the corner of his eye broke his attention from the Crew. Mengele was slinking toward a small airlock door on his side of the room.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Gus shook himself out of his stupor and began to run towards Mengele.
“You looked like you needed some private time to reconnect. I’ll be on my way.”
Gus lunged and barely managed to grab one of Mengele’s ankles as he did a flip at the last minute. They tumbled to the floor, hitting a nearby tray and knocking over its contents. Beakers and vials shattered on the ground. Mengele quickly regained his feet and gave a disappointed glance at the destruction.
“What a waste. Why must you so-called supers generate so much collateral damage in your efforts? Have you no finesse? You get a couple of abilities and treat the world just like a small child with a new toy hammer.”
“Some things need to be razed to build something better,” Gus retorted, attempting another grapple.
“That won’t be so easy now that I’ve regained my composure a bit,” Mengele chided as he hit Gus in the back with the side of his hand. Plates formed right before impact, thinning the pseudo-skin of hybrid-Nth around him. The power he had felt earlier from Mengele wasn’t there but it was still enough to flatten him on the ground. Mengele backed up and cocked his head to assess his work.
Gus, you can’t let him hit you like that again. He’s activating an ability. I can’t decode exactly what the hybrid-Nth are trying to tell me, but another hit could be fatal! Nick warned.
Thanks, Nick. Long time no see.
Gus pushed himself to his knees and got up on shaky feet.
What the hell was that?
He felt his legs pulse and they quickly regained their stability as some of the red energy ebbed out into his tissues to compensate.
“Unexpected. Yet refreshing,” Mengele remarked and dropped back into a martial art pose, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. Almost casually, he raised his left hand as a ton of shrapnel flew at him, stopping as it hit a wall of nothingness and dropping to the floor.
“How is he doing that?” Anastasia gasped.
“Don’t let him touch you!” Gus warned, circling around to the others, waving them back.
“Oh, Gus. How unsportsmanlike of you. Astute, yes. But it will avail you nothing. At the risk of being pedantic, you and your fellows have no chance of defeating me. Look at this poor man, he’s barely conscious and I haven’t even laid a finger on him. Yet.” He waved a dismissive hand at BoJack. “I would implore you all to leave, but I have dealt with too many with your saccharine sentimentality to hope that you would abandon your mawkishness. Let the lesson begin.”
Another salvo of items careened across the room and a thick blue liquid revealed a dome shape surrounding Mengele that ran down the sides, leaving the barrier invisible again.
“Hiding behind shields? Not so tough without your armor, are you?”
“This? This is not a shield.” He gestured at the air around him. “It’s miles of folded space condensed into a single millimeter. Anything that meets the plane expends all its energy as if traveling through the intervening space. I assure you any type of attack will lose potency before it ever reaches me. It’s only by my selective manipulation of that space that makes it possible that you can even hear me.”
He put his hand by his mouth, in an overly-theatrical stage whisper, “But let them waste all their MP trying to get through.”
Gus squinted, trying to read if Mengele was bluffing.
“Guys, give him all you got!” Gus yelled and started activating his abilities, trying to focus them on one section of the shield. Before being lost in the flashes and explosions of color as energy splashed over the egg-shaped dome.
Mengele folded his arms, calmly. His expression said it all. I’ll wait.
When the first barrage died down and there he was, affecting a large yawn before checking a non-existent watch.
“You see that was just foolish. But ‘heroes’ always have to try. Right? So what have you accomplished?” He counted the items on his fingers. “One, you have revealed your abilities to me by your attacks. Those who held back are obviously support for the team. I just need to find the healer. Probably that poor fellow that’s totally drained. Yes, your expression just betrayed you. You all need to get some reins on those emotions, or they will drag you broken and bloody to parts unknown.”
He turned and stared at Harmony, shaking a finger and frowning. “My thoughts are my own, voyeur. A mind as weak as your own could only dream to understand anything you could manage to find.”
Harmony’s eyes bulged and then she swooned. Her nose began to bleed as if punched. She folded and fell to the floor, only partially caught by Aurora.
Mengele surveyed the motley rescue team. “You tried your best, and yet I remain unscathed. Now I will show you what it’s like to tangle with a true master. With someone who wields the power to bend the very fabric of reality. This was entertaining for a while, but it has become tedious, and I fear you have nothing left to teach me. I have work I must finish.”
Without warning, he spun in a circle, outstretching an arm. Trails of energy fanned out, targeting the supers.
Prime deftly dodged out of its way. Aurora flew quickly upward while Darik formed some portals. He reversed the attacks’ trajectory back to Mengele, diverting the two heading for BoJack and Harmony. Unable to form one for his own in time, he slapped at the connection as his MP, stamina, and HP began to quickly drain, funneling back to Mengele.
Gus dashed laterally to avoid the attack aimed at him, stopping near Grimdark and pulling him out of the way.
“So tasty.” Mengele licked his lips as Darik’s energy transferred. The trail winked out as Darik staggered drunkenly and fell hard on his rump. He then swooned and fell onto his back, arms spread wide.
Prime crouched, pulling something from her belt. She trained the cylinder on Mengele and fired. A concentrated green beam shot out of the end, and actually hit Mengele, eliciting a small yip. As he moved quickly out of its path, Prime tried to regain the angle. Mengele waved his hand slightly and the beam refracted far to his side.
“Nice try. Most lasers have too much divergence to even cause any damage. Easily countered though with a little dimensional folding.”
Prime had to quickly disengage the laser as Mengele had twisted the beam back toward her. The energy curved and slingshotted back toward her, and she barely had time to disengage the beam before it sliced through her.
While she was dodging, Mengele flung another hand, first at Prime and then at Aurora. There was a scream and Aurora crashed into a table, clutching her face, blood pouring through her fingers. She didn’t reappear after falling behind it, out of Gus’ view. Prime retreated into cover, her suit shredded and torn in multiple places. Multiple thin bloody lines bled on her skin and soaked areas of her pink fur crimson. After she had ducked into cover, Mengele turned back to Gus.
“So here we are again, Gus. That was the group coming to rescue you, yes? I’ll bet you looked up to them. Admired them. But look at them, broken, bloodied, and weak. Once I deal with you, and clean up this… untidiness… I will have even more playthings to examine. And I will make you watch it all, Gus. Even if I have to cut off your eyelids. You will watch it all!”
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