The Super Power Saga (Book 1): Super Powers of Mass Destruction

by Jaron Lee Knuth

  Azakor ripped his hand away from her grip. “I'm not an idiot, mother. I know there is more to ruling than beating people into submission.”

  “Do you? Did you sit with the imperator yesterday while his team of experts hashed out the economic flow of trade goods? Did you have to decide on whether to increase health care spending? Did you have to decide whether to pay Dominus Terracore for food shipments to the Barrens? Of course not. Because all you're concerned about is playing Guardian. I swear, the only people that want a war are those who have never seen one.”

  Azakor growled again, but this time it didn't remain under his breath, it grew into a mighty roar that he let loose as he threw out his arms to the side. “I don't want a war! I want respect!”

  “Then earn it,” Magda said. “There will always be battles, my son. The reason your father failed, was because he chose the wrong ones to fight.”

  She pressed the palm of her hand against the chest plate of his armor. “Let the Oshiros have this one. Let Padamir show them that we are still allies. Show the empire that we are still united as a family. The minute they see a crack forming, we're done.”

  He hated that she was making sense. He hated that he was starting to think she was right. He hated that the women in his family were always more sensible, more logical, more in control. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like if his mother sat upon the throne instead, but he wasn't given the chance.

  The door behind him opened and Imperator Padamir led Dominus Takahiro and Domina Akiko into the room. Behind them, a team of medical personnel pushed a containment unit, a long, glass tube with Sasha laying unconscious inside. Her husband, Jiro, walked behind the tube, his eyes and fingers never leaving the small screen he held in front of him. The legs on Dominus Takahiro's mechanical contraption clicked against the marble floor, stepping up to Azakor.

  “We were able to sedate Sasha enough to prep her for travel. I assume there will be no more distractions? We must get her home as quickly as possible.”

  “Of course,” Magda said, answering for Azakor. “I think we can all agree that when it comes to family-”

  “I want to hear him say it,” Dominus Takahiro said, lowering his frail body closer to Azakor, so that his lifeless face was only inches away. “I want you to apologize for your family's transgressions.”

  Azakor could feel his muscles bulging under his armor. Every drop of blood in his veins bubbled with anticipation. It would be so easy. Dominus Takahiro would be dead before anyone blinked. His son would be next. He could slaughter the boy before he looked up from his screen and turned incorporeal. If Padamir tried to raise a finger to stop him, he'd kill him next. The rest of the empire would bow down to him, or they would die too. His rage would be the fire that scorched the earth.

  But then he thought of his wife. He thought of the look in her eyes as she saw him for what he would always be after that. A usurper. A murderer. A monster. And he thought of Simone's golden skin, vulnerable to a pin prick, like every mortal he ruled over. He would be placing her in danger. A coup did not happen without blood. And if he couldn't control whose blood was spilled, he might lose those most precious to him.

  “I apologize to you, m'dom. I had no right to question your motives, nor your decisions when it comes to your family or your domain. May the Oshiro dynasty continue to strengthen our empire for years to come.”

  There was a buzz that emanated from Dominus Takahiro's speaker, and Azakor swore he could hear a chuckle hidden underneath the feedback.

  “Very well,” Dominus Takahiro said. “Then we will be on our way. I will contact Imperator Padamir with any updates on Sasha's recovery.”

  Azakor nodded and stepped to the side to allow the procession to continue, but as Dominus Takahiro and his wife passed him by, Sasha's body convulsed in the containment unit. The medical personnel rushed to the unit's monitor and chattered among themselves as her body continued to writhe around inside the long, glass tube.

  “What is happening?” Magda yelled, rushing to the side of the containment unit. “Our daughter,” she said, her eyes looking to Padamir as Sasha convulsed in front of her.

  “Her heartbeat is erratic,” one of the doctors said, pressing buttons on the screen attached to the containment unit.

  Azakor glanced over at Sasha's husband, who was still engrossed in the tiny screen he was holding. Azakor slapped the device from the young man's hand. It shattered against the far wall and Jiro jumped back, holding his hand in pain. The boy cowered behind his grandfather, and Dominus Takahiro's machine rose up, standing taller than ever before.

  “Did you just strike my grandson?” Dominus Takahiro said, the volume causing his speaker to distort.

  “His wife is in pain and he doesn't even care!”

  “You struck a member of my royal family, you impetuous little worm!”

  Azakor lifted himself off the ground, floating in the air so that he was eye-to-eye with Dominus Takahiro. His chest rose as his arms spread out wide, baring fists ready to destroy the old man.

  “I am a Zharkov. I will strike whomever I please.”

  “Stop it!” Magda screamed as alarms on the containment unit started beeping. “Stop it, right now!”

  Azakor could barely hear his mother's pleas through the pounding of his own heart in his ears, but before he could act, Sasha let out one more scream. Her eyes opened as the wail started to change from an ear-piercing shriek, to a gurgling mess of fluid and air. Her pregnant belly shifted and moved as the child inside pushed against her. Suddenly, a ghostly arm reached through her belly as the child inside, imbued with the power of intangibility, crawled from its mother's womb. As it passed upward, from her belly to her chest, the baby's face broke through Sasha's flesh. Its cries mingled with Sasha's screams before the baby became solid again, cutting through Sasha's heart.

  Sasha and her child both fell silent.

  Magda fell backward as the doctors gasped in horror, unable to look at the image of Sasha's unborn child, lodged inside of her chest.

  Azakor stepped toward the containment unit and ripped the glass covering from it, tossing it to the side and reaching out to touch the small baby's corpse. “That, that thing. That is what was killing her.”

  “She was supposed to be invulnerable,” Dominus Takahiro sputtered from his speaker. “How could that baby...”

  As the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, Azakor turned to Jiro. “You. Your mother gave birth to you without complication. Why was your child-”

  “Jiro didn't manifest his powers until he was a boy,” Dominus Takahiro said. “The baby was stronger than expected.”

  “Stronger?” Magda asked, awestruck by the terminology. “That thing killed my daughter.”

  “Yes,” Dominus Takahiro said as he watched his wife approach the corpses, her tears washing over the baby's tiny body. “The baby was stronger than expected, and your daughter was weaker than expected.”

  Magda's face broke its stoic, diplomatic presence for a moment and Azakor saw the anger flare in her eyes, but she kept it restrained and allowed her false smile to return.

  “Now, m'dom, I'm sure you aren't implying that my daughter's invulnerability was the problem,” she said with a hint of desperation as she watched Domina Akiko hurry out of the room, still weeping for the loss of her great-grandchild.

  “Bah. Invulnerability.” The dominus sounded as if he would have spit the word out were he capable. “You Zharkovs are proving to be much more vulnerable than you claim to be.”

  The dominus turned away from Magda and followed his wife out of the room. Jiro glanced up at Azakor, then rushed after his grandparents. Azakor looked to Magda, waiting for her command. There was nothing to punch, nor was there anything to negotiate. There was just the mangled corpses of his half-sister and her child.

  Magda's eyes were searching the room like she was looking for an answer to the situation, and Padamir offered nothing. Magda finally hiked up her robes and hurried out of the room after
the Oshiros. Azakor followed, unsure of his role in what was happening, but needing to be there in case his mother needed him.

  As she ran down the hall after them, she called out, “Dominus Takahiro. Domina Akiko. Please. A moment of your time. I'm sure we can figure this out if you give me a chance.”

  Neither the dominus nor the domina slowed their pace, none of them giving the slightest hint of a reaction to her requests. When she caught up to them, they were already making their way to their transport ship. Magda rushed in front of them, holding out her hands to stop them.

  “Please. We've both suffered a great loss."

  One of Dominus Takahiro's legs slammed into the marble floor as the machine lurched toward her.

  “In the wake of the imperator's death, I have been insulted. I have been threatened. My grandson has been the victim of an assault by a member of your family. And now the heir that Imperator Konstantin promised me has died.”

  Magda bowed her head and said, “Please. Don't do this.”

  “No!” he screamed. “I reject your begging. I reject your family. I reject your imperator.” Dominus Takahiro leaned in close to Magda, his voice whispering through the speaker. “I reject the Zharkovian Empire.”

  His machine spun around and followed his wife and grandson, who were now hurrying up the platform to their circular ship.

  Padamir stepped next to Magda's side, and Azakor saw a look on his face that finally showed a determined emotion. When Magda noticed it too, she looked worried.

  “Let it go, husband. We cannot-”

  “No,” he said firmly. “He should pay for disrespecting me alone, but to also speak to my wife like that? To blaspheme the empire? I will not allow this to pass.”

  Magda quickly touched his chest and said, “That is your pride talking. Think about what you're doing. You cannot-”

  He slapped her hand away and said, “I am Imperator Padamir Zharkov. I can do whatever I want.”

  He shouted into the air, “Azakor?”

  Azakor floated across the room and landed next to Padamir as he called out across the chamber, his voice more commanding than Azakor had ever heard it sound.

  “The Oshiro dynasty is a traitor to the empire! They have assassinated your half-sister and threatened your imperator. Retribution must be taken.”

  Azakor glanced at Magda, whose face drained of all color.

  “No! Son, please don't-”

  Azakor smiled. “My imperator has given me an order. I must obey.”

  It was not rage that filled his fists with the power that tore through Dominus Takahiro's machine-driven body. It was not passion that shredded Domina Akiko into bloody strips of flesh. And as Jiro tried to escape in his family's transport ship, Azakor's heart did not race as he tossed the saucer-shaped craft into the ground. In fact, as the blood washed over him, he felt calm. It was as if the hunger in his belly was finally satiated. He was a warrior unleashed from the shackles of politics.

  He landed in front of Padamir and his mother, bowing down onto one knee. He dropped the head of Dominus Takahiro in front of them. It splattered against the marble floor.

  “As you commanded, my imperator.”

  Magda, was covering her mouth, trying not to let the horrified sounds escape. She sucked in her breath and tried her best to speak with strength.

  “Do you not understand? Do you not comprehend what you've just done to the empire?”

  “I understand perfectly well, woman.” Padamir glanced down at the decapitated head of Dominus Takahiro and said, “We just declared war.”

  34

  ANDRE

  Carmen pressed on the brakes as they neared the pile of rubble that was once a bank. Andre's heart was beating under his ribs, slamming against his chest like he was running a marathon. The few streetlights that were still standing were dark. The headlights of the delivery truck were all that lit the street. Carmen pushed in the knob on the dashboard and everything went black. Victor hopped out of the passenger door and stood on the sidewalk. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. After a few seconds he nodded his head.

  “We're all clear.”

  Andre and Carmen jumped out and rushed to the back of the truck, unlatching the door and throwing it open. Mickey crawled out, his body shaking.

  “H-h-here. This was all I could g-g-grab,” he said as he dug into a plastic shopping bag and handed out masks.

  Carmen pulled the clown mask over her face and said, “Wow. I'll look real inconspicuous sitting in a truck, wearing this.”

  “Here, take this,” Andre said, tossing her his mask. “It looks more normal.”

  Carmen tossed him the clown mask and unfolded the mask he gave her, revealing the face of Replica.

  “Bloody hell, I want that one!” Victor said. “I could put that thing to use later tonight.”

  “You can buy all the masks you want when we're done. Just wear what he gave you.”

  Victor unfolded his and laughed. “A cat? You want me to dress up like a bloody pussycat?”

  “Stop c-c-complaing,” Mickey said as he slid his own Everlast mask on. “I d-d-didn't have money to buy anything, and these were the only ones near the door of the c-c-costume shop I could grab.”

  “And you just happened to grab the handsome one for yourself?” Andre asked.

  “Maybe the poof's gonna put his to use later tonight too!” Victor laughed.

  Mickey made a motion like he was going to attack Victor, but Andre stepped between them. “Forget it. Mickey, you're with me. Victor. Focus.”

  Carmen ran back to the driver's seat while Victor pulled the cat mask over his head and closed his eyes. Andre slid his mask on, grabbed a shovel, and made his way toward the rubble with Mickey. Andre pulled a piece of paper out of his back pocket and studied it for a moment, glancing around at the surrounding buildings, trying to make sense of the landmarks noted on the map.

  “Should be about here,” he said, pointing to the northwest corner. “If we dig down about three or four feet, we should find the entrance to the vault.”

  “And that p-p-piece of paper tells us how to get in to the v-v-vault too?”

  Andre glanced back at the truck where Carmen sat in driver's seat. “I got it covered.”

  He dug his shovel into the brick and mortar of the debris under his feet and lifted a large pile up, heaving it to the side. Mickey did the same, trying to match the size of Andre's pile. When he failed to lift it, he let out a sigh and lifted a much smaller amount. Over and over again they dug into the ground, trying to disperse what they could. They sunk deeper and deeper, inch by inch. Andre could feel his heart beating faster.

  “Get down!” Victor let out his best hushed yell from the street, waving his hand in the air.

  Andre and Mickey both dropped to their bellies, trying to meld into the shadows of the rubble. Victor pointed once into the sky, then hunched behind the corner of the truck. Andre searched the sky for the trouble and briefly saw someone fly overhead, carrying a collection of building materials. Another Alliance member lending their abilities to the rebuilding effort of Patriot City. Andre looked over to Victor, who poked his head around the truck and gave him a thumbs up. Andre and Mickey crawled back to their feet and started digging again.

  “D-d-do you know what you're g-g-going to do with your share?” Mickey asked in a whisper.

  Andre had thought about nothing else since he heard about the job. The knee jerk reaction was to spend it like any other henchman. Nice car. Fancy suit. Big night out on the town with some women. But all that drifted away. Andre wasn't going to settle for being a henchman anymore. And to do that, he'd need to make some investments.

  “Sure, man,” he said as he flung a large pile of bricks to the side. “I gotta get a costume, first of all. Something classy. Something that people are gonna respect. You know?”

  “Y-y-yeah,” Mickey said, his head vibrating more than nodding. “What else?”

  Andre wasn't sure how much he wanted to share, an
d he wasn't sure whether his hesitation was because of a need for secrecy, or the fear of embarrassment.

  “Maybe some gadgets,” he said. “Maybe hire some goons. I don't know. Once the money's in my hand, I can start making some more concrete plans. I have to make the most of this. Figure out how to get noticed. How to climb the ladder as high as I can. What about you?”

  Mickey considered it for a moment, as if he never thought about it before. “P-p-probably take care of my mom. Try to g-g-get her into a better apartment. Then p-p-put the rest away for the f-f-future.”

  It wasn't that Andre didn't appreciate Mickey's selflessness. That quality came in handy more than once for Andre when he was in a bind. But he worried about his friend. He worried that he would never rise above the status of victim. Most people in the city only wanted to take, and if Mickey kept giving, he'd end up with nothing left.

  “You better think about yourself someday, Mickey. You don't wanna end up like the rest of these fools.”

  Mickey shrugged his shoulder and said, “I'm not w-w-worried. I have to take care of my f-f-friends, my f-f-family. As long as they're d-d-doing okay, I'll be okay. We look out f-f-for each other. Right?”

  Before Andre could answer, his shovel slammed into something under the rubble. There was a large clang of metal on metal, and when Andre knelt down to brush off the debris, he found a large metal door. They both tossed their shovels to the side and shoved what they could off the door. It only took them a minute to clear off the entrance, and with a grunting heave, Andre lifted the door open. On the other side was a darkened set of stairs that led underground. Andre clicked in the button on his flashlight and pointed it down the staircase.

  “Down we go,” he said, taking the first step.

  The stairs led further underground than he expected. It wasn't a basement, but more of a bunker. When they reached the bottom, the stairwell opened into a small room. Andre searched the walls with his flashlight until he found the vault. As the light scanned across the massive metal door, he read the letters stretching across the top.