A man stood peering over the edge, surveying the scene, two large water jugs at his side. He appeared to be looking for a safe way to get down to the pool below to refill his water jugs.
Gus realized that he was too far away to risk sneaking out in the open, but if he could approach without being noticed, he could take this man down as he had with the first.
Gus floated an inch off the ground with Basic Flight, then triggered Slide. Gus glided silently over the ground towards the man, but his aim was off. He almost overshot his target and sailed off the end of the cliff, and barely hopped back to his feet. The pirate turned in surprise and Gus fumbled with the weave, wrestling with the man and trying not to have the two of them fall off the edge.
In the scuffle, the man tripped over a water bottle, giving Gus the upper hand, and he smothered the pirate until he passed out like the first. Quickly releasing the weave, Gus checked that the man was still breathing. He dragged him out of sight and bound and gagged him with ether.
Even after waiting a couple hours for their mates, it appeared the other pirates were cagey and would not leave the boat. They were clearly agitated but only paced and shielded their eyes as they scanned the jungle.
Gus would have to go on the offensive. As he approached the boat, he noticed that their mouths did not sync up with what they were saying, like a poorly-dubbed foreign film. Sometimes there would be long stretches where their mouths were moving but Gus heard no translation at all.
“Nick, how come—”
“I’m keeping it PG-13 for your oh-so-sensitive ears, remember? If you want, I can give their direct translations, or substitute some of your standard pseudo-swear words if you like. Shut the front door! Got down, sat on a bench! You fricking, flipping, fetching, frelling, frakker!”
“No, that would be even more annoying than usual, thanks.”
“You didn’t even let me get to Fraggle Rock, fudge nuggets, or tartar sauce…” Nick said petulantly.
Gus was evaluating his skills, and they didn’t offer a lot of functionality for non-lethal combat. Still, he had an idea. Getting in position, Gus activated T-Wrecks behind the ship, with the construct being just deep enough to leave the top half of its body exposed. The beast bellowed and all the men rushed to the back of the ship to meet the threat. They fired wildly at the construct, who gnashed and waded towards them.
Gus rushed onboard the ship, his steps hidden amid the rattle of gunshots. Straining to split his ether in four ways, Gus snatched all the men simultaneously with an ether bubble over their heads. He hoisted them over the edge and dunked them under the water, holding them there.
Only one of the men appeared to keep hold of his gun, and he fired a couple muffled shots underwater before he too let go of his weapon.
Gus strained to hold the weaves and pulled the men out of the water as he felt his control slipping. He didn’t want to accidentally drown them, so he held them above the water, straining to position them above the beach. Gus’ ears began to ring as he held onto the weaves.
“Don’t cross the streams,” he snarled between gritted teeth as he struggled to hold the weaves in place until all the men were knocked out.
Two men succumbed quickly, while the other two thrashed violently, then weakly as they drifted into unconsciousness, expending the available oxygen in their bubbles. A chime sounded and Gus let go. They crumpled to the sand like rag dolls. Gus had to flip one who had fallen face first, but he appeared to only have a face-full of sand.
After tying them up with ether, Gus was struck with the most intense splitting headache of his life. His MP and stamina were only partially depleted, but his poor brain was not accustomed to that type of focus. After a lot of massaging his temples and the bridge of his nose, the icepick-like pain subsided and he could focus on his display and logs again.
You have leveled up the skill: Ether Weaving to Level 4!
750 XP awarded.
1,500 FP awarded.
860 XP to level 15.
You have unlocked a subskill of Ether Weaving: Incapacitate (Level 1).
Incapacitate (Level 1): Subdue an attacker by restricting their oxygen flow through an ether weave. Success rates decrease by 10% per level for stronger opponents.
100 XP awarded.
200 FP awarded.
760 XP to level 15.
It took another ten minutes to recuperate and feel like a normal functioning human. Superhuman? Nothing was normal anymore. Gus got to his feet, brushing the sand off. It was time to see how the original owners of the boat were doing.
Chapter Four
Aurora
Bodyguards filed out of the elevator and took their positions flanking the doors. A thin, almost skeletal man in long silver robes stepped off the lift. Brad tried not to stare at the exaggerated coif of white hair that was obviously very thin but styled to fluff it and give it artificial volume.
“Report,” the old man croaked, and Brad explained all that happened. When he mentioned his own personal message, the man’s passive expression contorted into an unsettling rictus. “And what motivated you to do such a thing?”
Brad lowered his eyes to avoid the maniacal stare the leader of Manticorps directed at him. “I wanted to scare them,” he said, the explanation sounding idiotic when it came from his own mouth. He deepened his voice and looked the old man in the eyes. “To let them know they shouldn’t mess with Manticorps, or they will face the consequences.” He looked expectantly at the leader; maybe this would be enough to convince someone to get him out of this dungeon.
“So you took it upon yourself to warn them that we would soon be arriving. After over forty years, we have no idea of the advancements the Traitor has made. He might take this as an act of aggression and attack us first!” Archon said, anger leaking around the feigned smile and civility in his voice. “We have much to do!”
He spun, his silver cape billowing with the motion. Reaching backward, he let loose a bright flash of energy from his extended palm. Where Brad had been standing, a small charred pile of dust remained, which was stomped flat as the bodyguards resumed formation and exited via the elevator, surrounding their leader.
Aurora lifted her head and surveyed the darkness. Time had lost its meaning with the lack of any feedback. Even her interrogations were completed in total darkness. There was a noise of water dripping. Was she in a cave? The area lacked the earthy stale smell of air trapped underground, but perhaps this was a base of some sort. The ground underneath her was not smooth like a typical room and she felt large cobblestones or large smooth pavers, damp and slimy.
She tried to shift to get comfortable, but it only made the pain in her shoulders and arms worse. They had manacled her arms behind her, in an exaggerated swan-dive position that allowed no relief. A rubbery material completely encased her hands, which made her unable to focus her power, and she could not activate any of her skills. She was bound around her wrists below the large rubber spheres. No way she could flip or position her body to get the cuffs in front of her. And she had tried. Anything to get some relief.
After gaining some rest and enough resolve, she would stand and lean slightly backward to relieve the tension. Her leg muscles were unreliable—wobbly and exhausted from electric shocks, being stabbed with foot-long needles, and other horrors that brought her health low. Never enough to finally be done with it. When they suddenly buckled, her arms felt like they were going to be ripped out of their sockets, so she slowly sank to a kneeling position for as long as she could tolerate it, even though it stretched her arms out even more.
This had been her world. The only break in the routine was when they would come and ask her questions: Where is the island? What is in the manor? What have your scans revealed? Aurora had held out thus far, due to her training, but she was unraveling.
Truth was, she had no idea what they wanted. Sure, Graviton scanned the areas below his station and sent information back to Purple Faction, but there did not appear to be a concerted effort t
o find anything in particular, and since she was one of the highest-ranking officers on board, it wouldn’t make sense for that type of information to be withheld from her.
Still, they would not relent in either their questioning or torture until she was near death. Having an HP bar that told the sociopaths just how much they could push her was a huge disadvantage. She’d never thought it would be a liability.
She tried to cast her mind back to better times, when things had changed from her horrible childhood to a less horrible tween-hood. Then to the academy. That was when she had truly come into her own. She focused on that feeling and embraced it, and the pain became a bit less present.
“You go now,” the short woman shooed her out the door.
“What are you doing, Auntie?” the skinny girl asked, irritated that she was interrupted from her book and pushed out the door. Auntie had her quirks, so Cass decided to take a walk. Maybe she was going through one of her irritable spells or something. She had been on edge and acting strangely for the last couple months. Short for no reason, prone to strange outbursts at the slightest provocation. Cass just tried to give her space when she went cray-cray, and she would usually revert to her normal self.
She kicked a bottle down the garbage-strewn alley. It hit a small pile of garbage, scaring a rat enjoying a meal. As it fled, running against the wall, it was swallowed by one of the semi-sentient plants that spread like ivy across the walls of this area. Without them, this area would probably have been overrun long ago and disease would have run rampant. The purple bulb hung as it digested its meal, appearing to be a mere eggplant to the ignorant observer. Gross.
It had just rained, which washed the air clear of the odd combination of food smells that always permeated the area, but new ones took their place as the water revived smells from the ever-present garbage.
Usually, she had her music with her, but her Flik and headphones were back in her room, and Auntie hadn’t given her time to pick them up. It was probably the reason why she heard them coming from behind. One stepped on a discarded Styrofoam package, alerting her to the presence of the three men tailing her.
The large one on the right scowled and threw an angry glance at the hot-stepper, and the girl and men simultaneously broke into runs.
Since Cass had lived in the area for six years, she knew the shortcuts and was able to get a little space between her and the men, even though their long legs chewed up the distance quickly in the straight alleyways. Cass knew where to climb a dumpster to vault over a fence, or the narrow areas she could slide between where two of the sheet-metal-shanties almost touched corners.
Of course, no one got involved, even though she was running for her life, or virtue, or whatever these animals wanted. Just confused stares rubbernecking after them, but no one alarmed or motivated enough to step in and help.
She could probably take these guys out easily with her powers, but she didn’t want anyone else to know that she was different—especially in the Chaos Gardens. Semi-sentient plants that ate vermin, people could handle. Humans with super abilities, they would ostracize forever. She wouldn’t be able to live here if they knew; no one would sell her anything.
That was primarily how she and Auntie had survived. Cass would buy the things they needed and pay the few bills; Auntie supplied the cash. Since she had essentially been a mail-order bride, Auntie was totally lost and didn’t speak the language. When her elderly husband died, shortly after she’d arrived, she was lost. She understood nothing of what the nicely-dressed men were telling her and having her sign with her fingerprint and DNA confirmation.
In the end, the woman Cass called ‘Auntie’ received a plastic tokencard and was shown off the property. She had not realized that they had liquidated all of her husband’s assets, including the house where she lived, and given her the bare minimum they were legally allowed, then promptly disappeared.
Shortly after Cass’ mother died, she had met Auntie by happenstance, who had watched over her, and they formed a mutually beneficial relationship.
A loud crash behind Cass brought her out of her reverie. She was beginning to get winded, her skinny frail frame unaccustomed to such a long pursuit. She usually could stay under the radar and not be noticed. Still, the men came, unrelenting in their chase. What do they want?
She yelled for help as she passed a group of teenage boys. They just whooped and cheered, apparently rooting for her pursuers. The burst of anger she felt gave her a bit more gas in the tank.
After a couple more turns, she had the uncomfortable realization that she was in unfamiliar territory. She made a few additional blind turns and the alley opened onto a cross street. The spray-painted plywood and cobbled-together hovels gave way to clean walls, textured and painted. It was like crossing some invisible barrier from the slums to the burbs.
Those damn guys are still chasing me? What gives? No one would care if you got mugged or worse in the Garden. But these guys could face major punishments for committing crimes on official Faction territory. If, and that was a big if, they were caught.
She ducked down another clean alley. It turned midway and as she bolted left, she found that it ended in a large door used for truck deliveries. No other exits were visible. She saw security cameras above the moving door but harbored no illusions that some white knight would see anything and deign to come help. People were sick. They probably would watch like an MMA fight or worse.
Turning her back to the wall, Cass evaluated her options. Maybe no one coming to help would work in her favor. She doubted anyone from the Garden would see her, so she raised her hands, and pulled inward. Energy flowed into her, invigorating her.
The effect caused her hair to raise as the energy built up; she really needed to find a workaround for that. At the worst of times, it got in her face and she couldn’t see. She was tempted to cut it in a pixie cut, but she’d had one when she was young and they just made her look too mousy and small. The young girl would never have guessed her current bedraggled appearance would in time transform to rival the model on the billboard hanging far above the secluded alley. Focus!
The men ran into the alley and they skidded to a stop, knocking the first man down as the others crashed into him. “Yep, you were right,” the guy on the ground said to the leader, who threw another scowl to get the guy to shut up. They turned their predatory eyes to her and slowly began to inch forward.
“Come on now, little miss. Let’s not do this the hard way,” Scowler said.
Hot-stepper licked his lips in a slightly crazed way. His lazy eye didn’t help his look and made his already creepy vibe even worse.
Cass started to extend her hands and began to move the energy out. Energy arced between her fingers, emitting an occasional flash of red or green as the oxygen molecules in the air reacted with the rising charge. Blues and purples began a bit later as the nitrogen in the air began doing the same thing. The men were mesmerized by the light show. Most people typically were. That was, until she sent the energy out in a spray.
Not only was it spectacular to see, but it did a number on men. The attack itself had become vastly more powerful since the last time she’d had to use her powers. How long has it been? A couple years, at least. The men clutched at their eyes, and Cass could see where the spray had etched the men’s skins like they had been sandblasted.
Pockmarks littered their exposed skin like bad acne, which then began to bleed. There was a pretty good chance they had been blinded too, but she wasn’t sticking around to find out. She sidled out into the alley as the men writhed on the ground from their wounds. Two of them were clutching their faces, but the third still sought her out.
As she was trying to sneak past the man who was reaching out around him with his eyes tightly closed, the security camera pivoted to keep her in full view. She flipped her middle finger at the camera as she continued to move out of the alley. The closest man moved his arms as if questing for a towel to dry himself. He almost grabbed her, and she inhaled, holding
her gut in to make her profile that much slimmer. When he moved on, she finally tiptoed out of the alley.
As she turned back, she ran headlong into a burly, muscle-bound man in a purple suit. He had a big smile on his face and said simply, “We need to talk…”
“…Aurora,” someone whispered. She broke from her memory and lifted her head. Her stomach tightened at the thought of another impending cycle of torture. Opening her eyes, everything was quiet except for the occasional sound of water dripping. Aurora swept her eyes left and right in the dark, but no one was there.
“Great, I’m going insane,” she said, voice cracking a bit as she fought back the exhaustion and pain that had brought her to the brink.
“Aurora,” the tentative voice repeated. This time she could tell it was in her head, becoming more distinct.
“Who is this?” she asked, wondering if this was some mental super from Purple Faction come to rescue her.
“Aurora, are you able to hear me at last?” Hope was evident now at finally being heard.
“Yes, yes! Who is this?” Aurora stammered.
“It has been so long! I haven’t been able to communicate with you at all due to your training. I am the source of your powers, and we need to talk!”
Chapter Five
State of the Heart
“What are you going to do with them?” Nick asked.
“I really don’t know. It’s not like I can just put them in jail, can I?”
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