The Ardent Saga Omnibus

by Nathan Howe

  High-Powered glanced up, thinking. “Yeah.”

  “I bet he's located in or close to downtown.”

  “Makes sense.”

  They arrived at the location. This time about twenty Wolves hung around. Smoking and joking. Causing a ruckus in the area annoyed Burning. What was the point?

  Upon seeing them, they scattered like the wind. Heading in all directions as fast as they could.

  “Who do we try to follow?” High-Powered asked.

  “The ones that went toward downtown. I'll cover one street. You another.”

  “Roger that.”

  Each tracked different people. Five people ventured in the direction of downtown. Burning focused on one of them. This time with much more luck. Neither he nor High-Powered lost their target, and they were both led to the same part of town. Just short of downtown. Both stopped at a tattoo parlor, Quintin's Tattoos.

  “Creative name,” High-Powered said. “This isn't one of their normal hangouts.”

  “Good,” Burning said. “And it's not like yesterday. Some building to avoid us. This might be the place.”

  Burning walked around the other shops, eyeing the tattoo parlor. It made sense that the home base would be this one, with the people in the gang having the same tattoo. “What’s this guy look like?”

  “No idea.”

  “Well. Let's hope we spot him when he leaves.” They now stood across the street. The sun had just set, so they found it easy to remain hidden in the shadows.

  The wait was excruciating. Patience was never something that Burning excelled at. And this was two nights in a row. It taxed him no end.

  The shop stayed open much later than Burning expected. He figured it would close around eleven or maybe midnight. But that wasn't the case. Hours passed with many different people coming and going. Many of them members of the Wolves, affirming that this had to be the place they went to meet the leader.

  After 2 am the open sign switched off. And a short time later, the two they had tracked here slipped out and walked off. A minute later a stocky man about Burning’s height exited the building.

  “Has to be him,” High-Powered said.

  “Agreed,” Burning said. He pulled his katana out. “How do you want to do this? Kill him, run him out, or arrest him?”

  High-Powered's jaw dropped. He stood like a deer caught in headlights. “Huh. Did you really kill people in Cynosure?”

  “You know it's not allowed. But I know a PI that does and gets away with it. Though, he refused to join the Hero Coalition.”

  “Well, let's not kill him. I don't have enough to arrest him on. Maybe some of his thugs I do. But him not so much.”

  “Okay, drive him out it, and that will scatter his thugs. Make them run. Seeing you take him out will put the fear in them.”

  Burning stepped from the shadows and activated his flames, letting Quintin see him. The Wolves leader immediately shifted into a wolf-like creature, more werewolf than an actual wolf. But he had razor-sharp claws, and his face now a snarl of deadly fangs. He made a step to confront Burning and then stopped. Burning recognized him. He was an Ardent that had been captured in Cynosure and sent to Remnant Heights, the maximum-security prison for Ardents.

  “Shouldn't you be in prison?”

  Quintin laughed. “I got early release.”

  Burning rolled his eyes. “Sure you did.”

  High-Powered grunted and jumped out as well. A slight glow engulfed him and an energy shield formed on his left arm. Burning had seen a similar hero before. Kinetic energy of some sort. He'd properly be able to absorb some attacks and turn them back at his attacker or something like that. He should have asked him about his powers.

  “The little hero finally grew a pair,” Quintin said. “Too bad he had to find a flunky to help him. No matter. This is my town now. So much easier to take over than Cynosure. I like it here. I think I'll be around for a while, unlike you two.”

  Burning held his sword at the ready. He hoped he wouldn't need to use it but if he did, he wanted to be ready to make Quintin pay. Silence followed. The three of them measured each other up. Burning was sure they'd be able to handle him. His bark was worse than his bite. He hadn't lasted that long in Cynosure.

  Quintin lunged at High-Powered, who raised his shield and deflected Quintin to the left. But that didn't deter Quintin. He made another move at High-Powered, howling into the night, with ear piercing volume. Burning watched as Quintin continued to make feeble attempts at High-Powered.

  Quintin huffed and puffed next to them. “No matter.” He stepped back again and howled even louder.

  It wasn't long before they were surrounded by members of the Wolves. “Great,” High-Powered said.

  “Don't worry,” Burning said. “You take out this bully. I'll handle the rest.”

  “No way. There must be thirty of them.”

  Burning laughed. “More.”

  You'll be nothing but a stain on the street in no time.”

  Burning jumped into the air, easily clearing Quintin and putting himself between Quintin and his Wolves. Burning let the flames heat up, to blistering levels. The warmer he got, the more damage he did to those who attacked him. He just wasn't sure what would happen to himself if he went any hotter. Only the Phoenixes knew how hot any of the fire Ardents could get, and they never shared that information.

  High-Powered attacked Quintin. Burning sped towards the big guy from yesterday. Once he reached him, he slapped him on the side of his head with the katana before he could even react. Burning had spent years learning to use the sword without actually really hurting people, knocking them out. Inflicting life-threatening damage was the last resort.

  The slap knocked the big guy to the ground. Burning followed up with a swift kick to the head, finishing him off for the night. Two of the thugs went at him. Burning let them punch him. Their fists went up in flames, sending them running, screaming in pain.

  “Come on!” Burning spun to the others. A few of them high-tailed it out of there after seeing their friends burn their hands. A few remained with weapons. Good. A challenge.

  A petite woman with short rusty hair and a nose ring jumped into the air and threw knives at Burning. They were easily deflected with his sword. Then a pain shot up his back. Burning turned around to see another Wolf member there, running away. He carried a short blade and had stabbed Burning in the back. A cheap blow, but effective nonetheless. It dropped Burning to his knees. He’d got careless letting someone sneak up on him.

  Meanwhile, Quintin had begun to wear High-Powered down. His shield had taken a beating. “Don't give up,” Burning shouted at High-Powered. Another knife slid into his back. This time, courtesy of the woman.

  “Dammit!” Burning screamed.

  The worst pain he'd felt in a long time. He face-planted on the ground, rolling over to see the rusty haired woman standing over him. She was too close. He used what little energy he had left and extended his flames. They caught her and burned her legs. She shrieked and let go of the knife. She hobbled off into the night leaving Burning on the ground panting. Burning had let his anger get the best of him, but it saved him. High-Powered glanced over to him and frowned.

  Quintin glanced at Burning and laughed. “One down, one to go.”

  “I don't think so,” High-Powered rushed him. His fist turned a bright blue, lighting the whole street, blinding Burning.

  He landed a punch on Quintin, sending him flying into the air. Landing not far from Burning. High-Powered stalked over to him. Picking him up off the ground. Quintin growled at him, “Put me down.”

  “I don't think so.” High-Powered, still glowing drove a few more punches how into the ribs. Blood flowed freely from Quintin. “Here's the deal, you worm. I let you live, but you are gone from my city in the morning. You tell our little cubs to leave.”

  Burning staggered to his feet, bleeding. The blood ran down his back, over his legs. But he had enough energy. He leaned on his sword next to them.


  “If I say no.”

  “I take his sword and cut off your head.”

  Quintin peered on in disbelief. “You wouldn't.”

  High-Powered gritted his teeth. “Try me.” It sounded harsh, violent. Like he meant it. Even Burning worried that he might.

  “Fine. I'll go.”

  High-Powered gave him one more punch and dropped him. “If I so much as see one of your thugs here again, I'll track you down and make you pay.”

  Quintin staggered back into the tattoo parlor. Alone and defeated.

  “You okay?” High-Powered asked.

  Burning shook his head. “Do I look okay?”

  “Not so much. We don't have a Hero Association hospital anywhere near here.”

  “A normal one will do.”

  The next morning Burning called in sick at work. The hospital had forced him to stay overnight. He didn't want to stay, but he had a lot of stitches. They worried, rightly so, that he'd pull them out.

  They wheeled him out into the noon sun. At the curb, High-Powered stood next to a Hero Coalition truck. “Better?”

  “Much.” Burning stood, winced. He walked next to High-Powered and leaned on the truck with him.

  “Thanks for the help. Sorry, you got beat up.”

  Burning patted him on the shoulder. “Don't worry about it. It was worth it. I missed this. I hadn't realized until now.”

  High-Powered smiled, clearly happy. “So you'll help me.”

  “Sure. But I'm keeping the day job.”

  Power Sink

  The pile in the corner grew larger as doctor Epoch tossed another failure onto it. The large warehouse he used as a workshop in Lenience City was lonely. He kicked the pile of junk robots. “Damn.” Jumping in pain, he grabbed his foot. A few minutes later the throbbing stopped. He needed a break. He exited the building to the cool, breezy night. The lake wasn't far from here, keeping it constantly chilly. Being close to the lake was part of the reason Epoch chose to buy the building. The lake reminded him of his youth, swimming with his family, before the accident. Before his life changed and they shipped him off to a succession of foster homes. He lit up a cigarette, and inhaled deeply, filling his lungs, relaxing him.

  Once finished, he dropped and stomped out the butt and headed back in. Inside, he flipped on the TV and eyed the next victim he'd use for his robot. He’d built over a dozen robots the past few months, each of them different. Each one capable of killing efficiently. The news was on, talking about yet another murder in the city. No shocker there—Lenience City was a violent place, home to some of the meanest and cruelest Ardents in the world. If they wanted to make a name for themselves, they came here first. Then they went to Cynosure or Azure City. If really daring, they went to Diablo Island and tried to either join or take out Ashes. Most of the evil Ardents avoided taking on Ashes. Many joined him.

  Maybe he'd use the purple robot this time, the one made mostly of a super steel alloy. The toughest one he'd built. It should withstand a beating from even the strongest of Ardents.

  The AI was the real problem all of them. Not ruthless enough. The news switched to a ceremony honoring two heroes in the city, Rowin and Silver Hand. They’d defeated some low-level villain, sent him away to Remnant Heights.

  Dr. Epoch sighed. Those two receiving special attention in this city was laughable. Stupid heroes, he thought. Epoch lost his entire family because of a hero. They failed to save them while his house burnt. Only he had survived. He had never forgotten. And he never would.

  Before settling on which AI he would use this time he decided to hack the local Hero Coalition. He'd find out about those two heroes. Find out their real names, their family. Then send his latest creation to kill their families as a test. That would teach them.

  Dr. Epoch sat with his custom built PC. He had designed everything about it. Untraceable. And he programmed it to not be backtracked when he hacked into government or other sites. The Hero Coalition wouldn't even realize that he’d hacked them. After a few minutes, he broke through the firewalls and had full access. He quickly sifted through their files, searching for Rowin and Silver Hand. His fingers glided across the keyboard smashing the buttons with loud clanks. He found Rowin first. Real name John Goad, from Lenience City, family still here. Good. He noted the address. The Hero Coalition contained detailed reports on his powers, plant control, and potion mixing, focusing mainly on healing. Boring.

  Next up, Silver Hand. Only a few minutes later he found what he needed. His real name, Chuck Olson. Unfortunately, Silver Hand’s birthplace was across the country, but his wife lived with him here. Silver Hand covered his body in a silver like substance that made him impervious to physical harm and increased his strength. A solid test for his next creation.

  With that set, he went back to the purple-painted robot. He used the cart and moved it to the center of the workshop. Dr. Epoch needed to connect a dozen wires and tubes to bring the robot to life. Currently, it was only a shell that contained none of the necessary oils or lubricants to run. Plus a battery was needed, which created another problem altogether. Finding one that could support robots for long periods of time wasn't cheap or easy. Sure, others built batteries that lasted decades. But that was something Dr. Epoch consistently failed at. If his old partner, Dr. Lucas—or the Last Mastermind as he called himself—hadn't left, he wouldn't have this problem. A year ago they had disagreed over the direction of the AI and hadn't spoken since. Perhaps it was time to mend that bridge and get better power supplies for the robots. The ones he had didn't last nearly long enough.

  The robot continued to fill and prepared for life. Epoch walked over to the station where he stored the different AIs that he had created. He'd spent months, years, working on the programs. It came relatively easy to him. He could just see how things were supposed to work. The AI programs lined a shelf, each stored on an individual hard drive. He'd given each of them names. He started at the beginning: Acwel, Exterminator, Lacerate, Orval, Slayer, Vigor, and Wattborg. Several slots were empty from failed robots and AI that wasn't quite savage enough. With that, he reached up and grabbed the Wattborg program. It should be the best one he had if he had learned anything from the others.

  The hard drive slid into the robot, Wattborg. The software started to upload, and Epoch inspected every inch of his creation, making sure each joint moved easily, that the claws on the hands retracted and were razor sharp. Satisfied that everything was ready and intact, Epoch exited the building to smoke while the software finished uploading. He figured by the time he’d finished a couple cigs it'd be finished.

  The cool morning air hit Epoch in the face. He hadn't realized how long he’d worked on Wattborg. Not the first time that he’d worked all night. He'd gone days without sleep while working on his creations, only taking brief breaks to inhale his smokes to keep him going. After finishing several cigs, he walked back in. Buzzes and beeps sounded from both Wattborg and his PC, letting him know that he was ready for a startup. The moment of truth. Either the robot would stand and function or nothing. That happened the first few times infuriating Epoch. He had to take long breaks after those.

  Click. Epoch hit return. Wattborg sat up. It worked. His head, which was humanoid, didn't have a face, just a smooth visor, like a helmet, built in audio and visual sensors, and a voice box behind it.

  “Master,” Wattborg spoke, emotionless. His voice echoed and slightly distorted. Epoch tried to mimic human voices, and this was close—but still off.

  Epoch typed a few commands on his PC. Most of the robots were built to be always connected to Epoch, and Wattborg was no different. He could just talk to him, but this was the sure-fire way to make sure it understood his command. “Do you understand your assignment?”

  The address of Rowin's family in Lenience City displayed both on the screen and in Wattborg. They would be the first test, then Silver Hand's wife. “Yes, Master.”

  “Good. Go kill.” Epoch spun in his chair to face his PC and made sure of his v
isuals. All the sensors worked and reported back to him. He built all his creations to piggyback off local Wi-Fi or cell phones and then to eventually send the signal back to him.

  Wattborg stood. Its metal feet clanked on the floor, loud and obnoxious. He wouldn't be stealthy, but that wasn't the point—it was built to be tough and deadly. With jet propulsion, he'd at least be able to fly long distances quickly.

  A minute or so later, the robot made its way out of the warehouse. Epoch picked up his laptop and watched from outside as Wattborg flew off into the sky. The streak that faded away in the early morning sun brought a smile to Epoch’s face. With a smoke in his mouth, Epoch flipped open his laptop and continued to monitor his progress. All the vitals were within normal range. Only the battery drained at a fast clip. Still he should be able to make it there and back without any problems.

  When Wattborg was about to arrive, Epoch rushed back inside. He wanted a better screen to view this massacre. He made it just in time. Wattborg landed on the front porch of Rowin's family home. The concrete slab crumbled under him. Without pausing he walked right through the door, the wood splintered around the robot, sending splinters of wood shooting through the house.

  Screams sounded. The audio sensors in Wattborg were better than any normal human. He was able to pinpoint the location in nanoseconds. Again, Wattborg didn't bother with normal doors or opening them. He ripped the wall open with his razor sharp claws. An elderly woman stood in the far corner of a bedroom clutching a phone, which slipped from her hand as Wattborg walked over to her. She was frozen in place. Her eyes were wide as tears flowed. “Please don't hurt me.”

  Wattborg paused. “It matters not. You are related to the hero Rowin. You must die.”

  Terrified, she slipped to the ground. Wattborg picked her up with one arm, easily lifting her. And with the other, he sliced her head off. It thudded on the ground, rolling away.

  “No!” someone screamed from behind Wattborg. He dropped Rowin's mother and spun around to find the hero’s sister standing in the doorway to the room.