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Masked

Page 24

by G S Michaelson


  “You aren’t as hard as you pretend to be.” Eva said.

  “It’s ok, Lionel,” Tyrone said, ” I told him.”

  “What?” His teammates had gawked at him.

  “He understands everything that happened. We were doing our jobs. We did save Draekeor in the end.” Tyrone said. “He never wants to speak to me — or any of us — after today. He understands everything that happened so far, but that doesn’t change anything.”

  “Oh.” Eva simply said.

  “Are you going back when he’s calmer?” Lionel said.

  “No.” Tyrone said, “He’s right. It’s over. I’ll only ever remind him of bad times. It’s best for me to just keep moving forward. Now, and the next time when something like this happens.”

  “I’m sorry, I know how much he means to you,” Eva said, “Especially after our little talk a few days ago.”

  “To fight those who can’t fight for themselves. That’s means a lot more to me.” Tyrone said. “Juniper is safe. We protected him. He’ll be fine.”

  The sun was setting down. It bathed the street in gold and red and orange hues. Elongating shadows, consuming the light with darkness. Tyrone shielded his eyes as he stopped for a second to admire the view.

  To be a hero is to sacrifice. My friends. My blood. Even my body. I’ll throw them all away, so people like Juniper can live one more day for a view like this.

  “Tyrone?” Eva broke him out of his reverie, “You spaced out for a second.”

  “We should go now.” Lionel had already started walking away before Tyrone grabbed him by the shoulder.

  “We defeated Masquerade and drove Caine away. We captured a valuable source of intel. Draekeor’s Legion forces are rounding up and cleaning up all the loose ends. We’ll get him next time.”

  “Tyrone,” Eva hesitated,“Are you really ok?”

  “Draekeor is safe. No — Juniper’s Draekeor is safe.” Tyrone broke it into a grin as he turned to face his friends. Not that they could have looked directly at him, he was silhouetted by the setting sun. “Despite all we’ve lost, we can definitely call this one our victory.”

  Yeah, that’s the essence of being a hero. In my heart, I know Aiden certainly understood that.

  Chapter 38 - Aftermath

  Aiden’s funeral was held two weeks after the incident in Draekeor. Before then, they had taken the time to analyze his course for any clues about Caine’s identity and powers. They also took the time to reconstruct his corpse and make it presentable. The experts did a good job, but without drastically altering how his body looked, they couldn’t mask the extent of the injury.

  His father had wailed at the sight of his son while his mother was a pillar. Tobi had just stood in the background. Outside of battle, regeneration pills were used sparingly, and so the injured Centurions were sent into various hospitals. Avery needed more treatment, having been hit harder than most but he had recovered quickly. Volcania had badly burned his internal organs. His spine had nearly been broken, but he had been able to protect himself at the last second. He had joked that only he could cause himself this much damage. The doctor had laughed nervously. Despite that, with the advanced medical facilities in Aslog and his own innate recovery skills, he was able to move on his own after a week.

  For their part, the Sabres fully recovered in a matter of days, but some scars ran deeper than others. Tobi’s team received a month off to recover. Bart insisted on coming to the gym regardless and pushed himself harder every day, sometimes even working out until he either bled or collapsed. Lionel would try to be a moderating influence on him, but his advances were rebuffed. Bart was turning his pain back on himself, and it hurt his friends to see him like this.

  Tyrone had noticed Lionel become colder as well. Since they returned from Draekeor the other man had become more closed off than he was before.

  He suspected something else had happened before Aiden had died, but Lionel wouldn’t let him — or anyone else — in.

  It was strange to think that their first mission had challenged them so.

  * * *

  At the funeral, Aiden’s family filled up the first few rows. Tyrone didn’t know he had such a large family. Aside from his 4 siblings, there were cousins, aunts, uncles, a nephew here and a niece there all in attendance.

  He wondered what would happen if it was him. Would his adopted family all come out in force like this? Or would his real family somehow catch wind of this and materialise. Somehow, he doubted that.

  He sat with Eva, Lionel and a still recuperating Avery. Tobi sat with Deidre and Bart. His face was stoic. He had failed to protect his charges, this was very much his failure. Yes, Tobi had been busy saving an entire city from being destroyed, but to a brother whose world had just crumbled or a mother who had lost one of her children, there was no way to express that without being cruel.

  After the funeral, the groups separated, Deidre and Eva helped Avery return home and Tyrone, Lionel and Bart went to a nearby cafe. They remained in their suits and ordered coffees while they talked about Aiden.

  They shared anecdotes of funny pranks he had pulled while training, silly things he would say, and misadventures they had gotten into.

  “He was a good guy,” Bart said after a while, “He didn’t deserve to die like that.”

  “He knew the risks,” Lionel replied quietly. Tyrone kicked him under the table. It may have been true, but it wasn’t what their friend needed to hear right now. It wasn’t what any of them needed to hear right now. It was too late, the atmosphere had changed.

  “Don’t say that.” Bart retorted sharply. “Don’t you fucking say that!”

  He was standing now, his bone claws fully extended, breathing hard and staring at Lionel like he couldn’t recognise him. One of the security men made a move towards them, Tyrone quickly flashed his badge and gestured him away.

  “Sit down,” Lionel said, sipping his drink, “You’re making a scene.”

  “I’ll sit when I want Lionel,” He snarled, “What is wrong with you? This isn’t just some random person who died, this is Aiden, we’ve known him for years. Is all you really have to say ‘He knew the risks’? If you guys didn’t fail at capturing Caine, he’d still be here!”

  He regretted the words as soon as he had said them, but there was no way to snatch them back into his mouth. Tyrone had his mouth hang open a little.

  “I see you’re upset,” Lionel said. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

  To Tyrone, he said, “I’ll see you later.” Then he stood up and walked out of the cafe. The other people in the cafe still stared at them. Bart shook his head as if clearing it and ran after him.

  “Lionel. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” He had caught up to him before he noticed the blank look on Lionel’s face. His apology had barely registered.

  “Are you all right?”

  There was no response. Nevertheless, the duo continued walking together, until they turned into a nearby park. The silence was deafening. They passed playing children in silence, rowdy teenagers without a peep, and randy adults without a glance.

  The duo reached one of the largest trees in the park, a massive Oak tree. It had been there for years, and would likely be there for years still. Under its shadow, Lionel finally broke his silence.

  “No, you did mean it, more than you think you did. And you’re right. We failed in our mission in Draekeor. That failure’s a part of life, but that’s not the real issue, is it?”

  Bart closed his eyes, knowing what was coming.

  “You’ve been blaming yourself ever since. I see you tearing yourself to bits all the time, and it hurts everyone. But most of all, your self.”

  The other man let the waves of emotion roll over him, overflow, and spill out, and then he cried harder than he had done in years. Lionel let him lean on him, and the two sat simply sat there together, mired in misery.

  “Don’t you ever tell anyone about this,” Bart muttered,

  “Deal,” Lionel said,
“I feel the same way.”

  As the two sat and talked under the tree with leaves falling around them, the cloud that had been hanging over them slowly lifted, and then dissipated.

  * * *

  Tyrone paid the bill and left after apologising to the baristas, explaining that his friend was having a tough time. The manager understood and wished him luck. He knew the feeling and hoped they would resolve it. Tyrone smiled and left the cafe. He was headed to a bar when Eva came up beside him, gently redirecting him home. He acted like he didn’t notice, but he was secretly grateful.

  “It’s not over,” She said as they arrived at his apartment, “Caine wasn’t working alone. We need to look into this.”

  “He’s out of our league,” Tyrone said, “We’re better off just staying away.”

  “I pushed a request for our team.” Eva replied, “We’re assigned to the case of Caine until its resolution. Until Aiden is avenged, and the mystery solved, we’re not going to do much else.”

  “Eva. You…” She held up a hand.

  “Don’t say anything, don’t do anything. Just go home and have a good night’s sleep, we’ll talk more tomorrow.” She said. “All of us.”

  As he entered his flat, he let all the tiredness he had been keeping at bay flow into him all at once. Stumbling to his bed Tyrone was asleep before his head hit the pillow. A fitful sleep full of masked men and mystery.

  Chapter 39 - Purpose

  It had been two weeks since Aiden’s funeral, a month after the events of Draekeor.

  In the time since Aiden had been buried, the other Legionnaire’s had launched an investigation into Caine, they had dug up hidden folders and created new dossiers to try and match the data they already had. Beth Peach’s intelligence and Aiden’s final message through Edward had been beneficial in this regard.

  Caine’s attack on Aslog — the very home of the Legion — had shaken many people’s faith. The subsequent massacre of the Four Cities by Masquerade had people up in arms. The Legionnaires were supposed to protect against things like this, but word had gotten out that it was abandoned Legion technology that had been used to carry out the massacre, causing an increased backlash.

  While Masquerade had been defeated, their plan to erode trust in the system had some degree of success after their deaths.

  The Commander had hosted a press conference as the public pressure had grown. He assured people that his men were on it, and were working to track and defeat the monsters that caused such suffering. A reporter pointed out that while his Centurions and Sabres had confronted Caine, all had failed to capture him. With that in mind, was their training not sub-par? Did the Commander need to be replaced? Why were the soldiers who literally had only one job fail at that task? Were they not used to actual combat?

  The Commander told them about Caine’s defeated men, the saving of Draekeor, and other details of the mission that had been cleared for public release. It was not enough. The people were scared.

  Starlite suspected that Caine had ties to Aslog, but he feared the mere speculation of it would have caused riots in the streets, should things have leaked.

  Tyrone and his team had been called into the conference room. Tobi’s team, as well as two others, were assembled, their mission would become clear in a matter of minutes.

  “You all may not be aware of the Phoenix,” Avery continued. “The Phoenix is a powerful weapon that was created here in Aslog, it is not the proudest part of our history, nor is it something we brush over, It was a weapon of war and caused great suffering.”

  Tyrone remembered. As a child, the day known as the day of ashes had started when someone had freed the Phoenix and unleashed it on Aslog. It was when his father had disappeared, and his family had been separated. The creature had been released from where it had been kept in the city’s bowels and had rampaged, spitting fire and burning part of the city into ashes. There was chaos, there was fire, and there was death.

  * * *

  “Mummy! Daddy! Taylor! Where are you,” Tyrone cried as the fire raged. He was streets away from his house now. Or rather, what was left of it. He had turned back only to see a moving mountain of flame. The Phoenix, hostless, rampaging. His screams could have woken the dead. He wasn’t the only one, a cacophony of screams had rung out all over the city as fire rained from the skies, burning people, ending lives, creating lifelong scars.

  A hand clasped on his shoulder.

  Centurion Starlite and three others had arrived then. The Centurion whispered to one of his Aides, and Tyrone was scooped up.

  It was then the Legion drew the line against the Phoenix. They had stopped its advance and destroyed it.

  As Tyrone cried for his parents, the aide hushed him.

  “Someone wants to keep you alive,” He said with a reassuring smile, “Even if your family’s gone now, you’re not alone.”

  The words had been of little comfort to him then.

  * * *

  He snapped back into the present as Avery continued explaining.

  People were absolutely terrified about the power of the Phoenix, and it had taken the better part of the day to counter it. The Phoenix had been destroyed, or so the story had gone, as Avery was about to explain, that part was a lie.

  “The Phoenix was stopped that that by the work of brave men and women, including our current Commander, That is how he got his promotion” The Starlite bristled in the corner, willing Avery to move along.

  “It wasn’t destroyed, we couldn’t do so. We had created a self-sustaining industria monster that would revive itself if killed. So instead, we had a better plan. We split the Phoenix into 5 pieces, tore it asunder. Then we bound the 5 parts to mundane objects and used another spell to scatter it around the world, where we wouldn’t be able to find it.”

  “Excuse me,” Eva had raised a hand. Something hadn’t added up.

  “Go on.”

  “Why would we lose control of the Phoenix, why not simply store it in Aslog? Surely we have places where we can store dangerous weapons.”

  Murmurs of agreement could be heard as the other commandos exchanged looks among themselves.

  Avery cleared his throat, silencing the room.

  “The last time we stored it in Aslog, it was unleashed.” He explained, “The spell we used: Art of binding: Perpetual Bind, was such that it could never be unravelled except by one person. For all intents and purposes, the Phoenix was destroyed, and its corpse scattered here, there and everywhere.”

  “But…” Eva prompted.

  “At least someone’s paying attention. Thank you, Eva.” Avery said, “But we have learned that the Asura may have been working with someone who can unravel that spell. We do not know how they got into contact, but Caine and this other person are tied together.”

  “Who is this person?” Tyrone asked, “Why aren’t you telling us that part?”

  “For you guys, it isn’t any of your concern. The Commander and your various Centurions are all well aware of their identity,” Avery replied. “All you need to know is that they want access to the power of the Phoenix, and we can’t let them have it, it is as simple as that.”

  “There are several attack vectors we’ve sought to look at, the mysterious group — Asura. Caine’s ‘orphanages’ around WestScarlet, and possible foreign aid,” Tobi added, “Caine might just be the tip of the iceberg. We won’t know until we stop him.”

  The teams sat and thought about what would happen if the same people who had orchestrated a massacre and attempted to destroy an entire city had the power of the Phoenix in their hands.

  Eva’s analytical mind ran through the most likely possibilities. A kamikaze attack on Aslog, launching the Phoenix directly at the Archion Tower would have devastating consequences, no matter how strong their defences. Lionel exchanged looks with Bart. Bart’s eyes still had a kind of madness in them. He wasn’t interested in all that, all he wanted to do was kill Caine. Lionel exhaled and turned back to his table. He had work to do.


  Tyrone for his own part had a different unvoiced opinion. Something that had stuck out at him. Masquerade had used the masks to gather energy. The Phoenix was a monster formed of Industria. What if it wasn’t the weapon they wanted? He would tell Avery his concerns in private afterwards once they were more concrete.

  For now, the decision was clear: Caine needed to be hunted down and stopped before he could strike again.

  With all that resolved, there was only one more question left to ask.

  Tyrone asked it.

  “When do we start?”

  Epilogue

  A Certain City.

  An empty apartment building.

  “I was wondering who they’d send after me,” Caine said. He placed the glass he’d been sipping back on the table and slid the mask over his face. “You’re a perfect match, Tom.”

  “I’ve been tracking you ever since you pulled that job on Draekeor. You pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes as Mayor Avel. And who knows where you’ve been since then.” Tom said. The Sentinel stood at the door, his uniform displaying his status. Muscle threatened to rip open his shirt, and his silver-eyed gaze was a mix of anger and disappointment.

  “You’ve been here, there and everywhere. I bought this place for privacy. How did you manage to find me?”

  “I had a hunch, and it paid off.”

  In one breath, he had crossed the distance between himself and Caine, placing a hand on the latter’s shoulder.

  In the second breath, both were gone from the room, without a trace.

  Another breath and they reappeared in a clearing, between cities. The masked man immediately kicked Tom off him, placing his hands on himself.

  Art of Restraint: Lock!

  Caine glowed for a moment, and then the violet glow of industria around him faded.

  “So I won’t be able to teleport you any more than this.” Tom acknowledged the spell. “Unless I knock you out first, that is.”

 

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