by Drew Hayes
“Do we have any clues on mystery man?” Cyber Geek wasn’t expecting much, but knowing he was too weak to fight directly and apparently not powerful enough to fire an effective shot, this was all he could think of to do.
“Well, he looks like that, so there’s a starting point,” Presto noted. “Says he fought the original Science Sentries, seems to really hate Professor Quantum, basically untouchable in terms of strength, and his power directly weakens those with abilities derived from setlium exposure. That’s all we know.”
Plasmodia’s head popped up as something occurred to her. “And it’s ironic that he has that effect on setlium—at least to him. I’m ninety percent sure he said that.”
Tachyonic’s voice came over the communicators, a sharp reminder they were still broadcasting locally, words spit fast between pants for air. “He also claimed to know Professor Quantum before the change. Said he was the first destroyed by the professor’s ambition.”
Who could have lived that long and still remained unknown? For that matter, why would it be anything other than pure convenience to have an ability that neutralized not only one of the most legendary capes in existence, but also hindered everyone sharing the same source of powers? A sudden notion scratched at Cyber Geek’s mind, intuition cobbling together the pieces he was too frantic to see. There was one thread of an idea firm enough to pull on, so that’s what he did, yanking out his AHC phone and opening up a quick tab for research. It certainly didn’t feel heroic, skimming the internet as his friends were fighting for their lives, but Cyber Geek was fast learning not to give a shit about what did and didn’t feel like cape-work.
If it had even a chance of keeping someone alive, then it was time well spent. Besides, this didn’t have the feeling of a wild goose chase. Cyber Geek was on to something. The question was if he’d figure it out in time to matter.
The dodges were working, at a cost. Between the injured ankle and the residual effects of being weakened, it was taking everything Tachyonic had to avoid the clawed blows. From behind, Medley ran up on their attacker, throwing the entirety of his bulk into one of the bony man’s joints. It was truly the only technique he’d managed with any effectiveness, knocking his opponent briefly off-balance before a smoking leg kicked Medley across the room and into a wall.
If not for incredible endurance and rapid healing, Medley and Bahamut would both be out of the fight already, likely in shape similar to Agent Quantum. Tachyonic felt pangs of guilt as he backpedaled, equally aware of what these distractions were costing them, and how badly they were needed. Without those two drawing occasional focus so he could rest, the dance would already be over.
Sadly, there weren’t many steps left to it either way. Tachyonic zipped around, grabbing a meat tenderizer from the kitchen. He tried to break it over the man’s skull, hoping to annoy more than hurt at this point, keeping focus away from Agent Quantum. As he made the approach, Tachyonic’s ankle hit a poor position and suddenly buckled. Not enough to send him sprawling, though that was largely because of the strong, gaunt, smoking hands that grabbed onto Tachyonic before he could land.
“At last, my little fly, you’ve wandered too close. Let’s see what we can do about pulling off those wings.”
“Rob Bob.” The name was nonsense to Tachyonic, as well as everyone else in the room based on their expressions, yet Agent Quantum didn’t pause before throwing out another. “Todd Williams. William Todds. Jack Crack. Is that enough guesses for a penalty yet?”
Injured or not, Agent Quantum was on his feet, dragging himself to a standing position thanks to the wall. “That’s the game, right? Guess and take the penalties. Well I just earned myself four, and they’re all coming to me. Unless you’d rather play with Tachyonic than finish trying to break me.”
For a face lacking flesh, the stranger did an excellent job of showing his momentary indecision. “You are already beaten.”
“If this was about crushing me, you could have done that on a street corner in the middle of the night. Whatever you’re after, I don’t think it’s just proving you can take us in a fight, and I’m positive it has nothing to do with my friend. You want to hurt Professor Quantum, right? I’m the one walking around wearing part of his name and using some of his DNA. I’m the one you want to hurt.”
Medley and Bahamut, both slowly having shaken off their last blows, were nearby, watching the act play out silently, unwilling to move and risk tipping whatever gambit was in play. If either was surprised by the revelation of Agent Quantum’s origins, they had more important matters at the forefront of their minds.
“Yes, you are,” the man agreed. “But unlike Professor Quantum, it seems you truly care for your team. And there are many ways to hurt someone.”
“Maybe so, but you challenged me to take the pain until I caved and gave it to someone else. Maim Tachyonic, and it’s the same as admitting you couldn’t defeat me. Not the way you wanted to.”
For a delicate moment, no one moved, all of them too aware that this man could squash Tachyonic’s head in a single motion if he so chose. Finally, the dark skull turned back to its captive. “I suppose it would be disappointing, to come all this way and not see you ultimately turn on those who trust you. Though I’ve had enough of this pest flitting around.”
The sharp tips of his left hand broke the skin on Tachyonic’s arm, and he stabbed his right fingers into the thigh on the cape’s non-injured leg—a short combo that drew a brief yelp of pain before Tachyonic collapsed. Between the new injuries and the power-weakening effects, he’d done his last running of the battle. Their enemy stepped over Tachyonic’s writhing form, shifting toward Agent Quantum.
“Now then, about those penalties.”
Before the man was fully turned, Medley sprang, launching at their enemy’s head. Between the fur, bulk, and general confusion, he was able to hang on long enough to hammer home a few blows before getting roughly hurled through a wooden beam. Loud creaks came from overhead, as Medley dimly realized how many of the support structures on this floor had been already taken out.
Futile as the attack seemed, it gave Bahamut enough time to run in and drag Tachyonic away. She even managed to return as Medley was getting thrown, grabbing a chunk of broken granite from what had once been a kitchen counter and smashing it against the bone man’s back. He spun around, surprisingly quick when he wanted to be, and snared one of her arms. That was all it took, so great was the strength difference between them. For the first time since she’d been transformed into a dragon against her will, Bahamut was truly feeling the limits of her power, and it was not an experience she had any interest in repeating.
Dragging her along, the man looked back to Agent Quantum. “What about this one? Are you also willing to suffer in place of a villain? Who knows the number of innocents these claws and teeth have drawn blood from, how many injustices they’ve perpetrated. You’re a superhero; surely it serves the greater good for me to hobble criminals and leave you at full strength.”
“There’s nothing good about passing my problems on to someone else, greater or otherwise. Maybe he deserves what you’d give, but if I bought into that philosophy, I’d never have become a superhero in the first place. We’re not here to punish. We’re here to protect. Now, are you done wasting time with these distractions? I’m half-recovered from that last attack; you’d better get moving if you want to stand a chance.”
A plainly empty bluff, yet Bahamut was still released from the iron grip, all interest from her captor instantly lost. “You put on a better show than he did, I’ll give you that. Which will make it all the more enjoyable as I rip that façade of nobility away and show them all who you truly are.”
In an unexpected bound, the man crossed the gap between him and Agent Quantum, easily snaring the weakened cape by the back of his neck and holding him roughly in place. “Which brings us to your punishments. Can’t take your tongue yet—I’ll need to hear you talk so you can cave—and most of the senses will be vital in watching
your own body torn apart. A limb might be a good start, though I do worry you may bleed out too soon.”
The sharp fingers traced along Agent Quantum’s face, leaving a red abrasion wherever they ran, until stopping on the bridge of his nose. “Then again, I suppose you could still see your team butchered with only one eye. The real question is, which one to take? I have just the solution, one that Professor Quantum would find great appreciation in.” His finger began to tap under each eye in succession as he spoke. “Eenie... meenie... miney...”
“Alfred!”
What should have been a random name being shouted in desperation instead had a very curious effect. Their attacker halted, finger still halfway between eyes for the next tap, all attention shifting to the hole above, where Cyber Geek’s head was poking through.
“That’s who you are. Alfred Settler, the member of Professor Quantum’s team supposedly killed in the experiment that created meta-humans. You’re the man setlium was named after.”
Chapter 120
Laughter. That was the bone man—or rather, Alfred’s—response. Tittering chuckles that oozed from his mouth as he looked from Agent Quantum, still held tightly in his grip, to the virtually unknown cape that had awkwardly blundered into such a revelation. Unfortunately, this was not the kind of mirth that signaled a positive shift in mood. If anything, he appeared even more dangerous.
“Alfred Settler is supposed to be dead,” Agent Quantum said from his prone position, searching his captor’s fleshless face as though there were clues to be found. “When Professor Quantum’s experiment changed the world, most of the team with him became the first meta-humans. Alfred was killed, and Professor Quantum named what he saw as his greatest discovery in honor of their fallen team member.”
“Yes, that is the story.” Without warning, Alfred hurled Agent Quantum through yet another chunk of wall, drawing groans from bits of ceiling overhead. While the cape struggled to his feet, blood dripped from fresh wounds; in his weakened state, even the lesser attacks were causing damage. “Because the truth casts such a hideous light on the great, beloved Professor Quantum. I wasn’t just some assistant caught in the blast. Nearly half the work on that experiment was mine! I was the one who saw the greater potential, who warned your supposed hero that there were dangers he wasn’t considering. I was the lone voice of caution who stood against the experiment, and this is how fate repaid me.”
He gestured to himself, to the smoking skeleton with the barest bits of muscle tissue keeping it held together. “I’m sure they thought me dead. My body had become corrosive to everything, in varying degrees, and looked like this. By the time I woke up, I was entombed in a metal box and buried under literal tons of rock, the same way we treated nuclear materials at the time. But that’s the upside to being corrosion incarnate: nothing can hold you forever.”
Having a receptive audience, Alfred had fallen into one of the oldest villain habits in the book: monologuing. No one dared to interrupt. This was a chance for them to catch their breath and think a few steps ahead. Had Alfred gone through guild training, he’d have been warned on the dangers of such an indulgence, especially when the fight was not yet won.
Lifting a thin hand, he pointed directly to Agent Quantum. “Yet what should await me when I emerged? A world enamored with the same selfish, irresponsible, arrogant bastard who made me this way!” The wood under his feet turned dark and cracked at the sudden flash of anger, forcing Alfred to move closer to Agent Quantum. “Whereas I am nothing more than a footnote. Even my name he warped and corrupted to serve his own goals. What a great man, to honor the colleague he killed and erased from history by naming something I never wanted to exist after me. Of course, by the time I reemerged and the humor in that became evident, it was too late for a renaming.”
Another step closer, causing everyone watching to tense up. The truth was, if he made a run for Agent Quantum, they couldn’t stop him. Slow him down, maybe, but there were no delusions left to dispel; everyone present knew he’d simply been taking his time and having fun. Unless they came up with something soon, the moment he got serious, they would have to face the hard choice: flee, or die fighting.
“We were across from each other, in almost exact opposite points of the room. I wonder sometimes if that’s why it worked out this way. Perhaps we inadvertently freed the entire spectrum of meta-elements in that one moment and have slowly been discovering what was in Pandora’s Box. He got setlium, whereas I got the opposite. This horrible, eroding energy that kills everything except the man who would welcome it. The exact opposite of what infuses your cells with their ability. I call it: vernium. What do you think?”
Agent Quantum went momentarily stiff, drawing another round of terrible chuckles from Alfred. “That was just in case any of you thought I was spinning a yarn. I am glad to be able to tell you all this, before your end. It’s been so long since I shared that story, and I think it will add to the experience of watching your friends die. If nothing else, you’ll understand why I’m going to leave them as nothing more than skeletons. A message to the man I’m playing with.”
“You think he’ll see this as a game?” Medley demanded. It might have been telling that the one who doubted such a sentiment was a cape who’d never worked with Professor Quantum before.
“The game is what he and I have been playing for decades. This is only a single move—though an excellent one, if I do say so myself.” To their surprise, Alfred started walking again, but not toward Agent Quantum. He was heading away from everyone, toward one of the holes into the hallway punched by flinging bodies. “As for games, I suppose there is a prize that is owed. Cyber Geek, you and your team are permitted to escape, assuming you are able. Because now that my secret is out, I find it’s nearly time to draw things to a close.”
He didn’t step through the hole, as a few might have been expecting or hoping he would. Rather, he grabbed a support beam on either side, two of the few in the area left standing, holding up everything currently over their head, including the rest of the capes and villains. “Everyone in the pool. It’s time to sink or swim.”
A pulse of dark energy washed over the beams—the first time they’d seen him intentionally use the corrosive power. In less than a second, the thick wooden supports were nothing more than black ash. Overhead, a loud snap could be heard, followed by a series of groans and crackling, before a huge chunk of the ceiling—and everyone who’d been sitting on it—came crashing down.
Bloopston was pinned down. Separated from Big Swing by the sudden Wrexwren ship that had slammed down to Earth, weakened by having to run through a burning hallway, and now with four aliens drawing close to his position. The call for help had gone out minutes prior, but hope was restrained. There was so much going on right now, and a limited amount of backup to spread around.
Just as the first Wrexwren rounded the corner, face aimed right at Bloopston, something fell from the top of the building, landing directly in front of the creature. On first glance, it appeared to be a normal person. No costume, no mask, nothing to mark this man as exceptional, not until he threw a single glance backward, permitting Bloopston to get a look at his face.
No wonder there wasn’t a costume: Quorum didn’t wear one. His identity, much as one could call it that, was on public display. Despite the tense situation, he still sounded calm, as another Wrexwren joined the first, sounds of the other two drawing near.
“I know you have translators. This is your only chance. Surrender now, and we can attempt to protect you. The invasion has failed, your people are beaten, but as individuals there might be a path of peace for you moving forward.”
In response, the first Wrexwren took a swing at Quorum, who deftly leaned out of the way before returning a blow to a spot on the left side of its chest. As the alien choked, two more hits came, striking a specific point in the torso, and one just above where two of the legs joined. Three quick strikes, and his opponent was lying on the ground, making a sound Bloopston felt reasona
bly sure was gasping.
Seeing its ally injured, the second alien began to raise a weapon. The attempt was leagues too slow, as Quorum had the speed and perception of over a thousand people piled into the single space his body occupied. Twisting the weapon out of the Wrexwren’s claws, Quorum used it as a blunt instrument, delivering one sharp blow to the head and sending his opponent down in a heap.
“Go.” Quorum had turned to Bloopston, still unfazed. “Along that alley, turn left by the fountain, keeping heading north until you see the other AHC members. We’re consolidating our forces to root out the nearby remaining invaders. I’ll be there shortly.”
He was gone, around the corner, off to meet more Wrexwren head-on before they arrived. Bloopston, still shaken, did as he’d been instructed, forcing his webbed feet to move along the paved stone streets. As much as Lodestar and Professor Quantum tended to be the larger profiles at the AHC, this particular cape felt a great deal of gratitude to the less-assuming member of the Champions’ Congress, who was out here getting his hands dirty. Granted, Lodestar’s fight was obviously essential as well, but Professor Quantum could have made a real difference out in the field. Who knew how many capes wouldn’t be coming home tonight because their calls for backup had gone unanswered?
If the big capes were busy, then that just meant the rest of them had to pick up the slack. Bloopston poured more effort into his legs, eager to find the others. Assuming they had some healing power on hand, he could recover and get back out into the field. Being trapped and helpless, only to have salvation arrive unexpectedly, was an excellent reminder of what it meant to be a superhero.