by Drew Hayes
“You had help with this, didn’t you?” Tori called. Ivan was waiting outside along with all the other mentors and Doctor Mechaniacal, the established guild members talking amongst themselves. Even Balaam was being good, though that mostly consisted of just not talking to Ivan.
“We all had the option to consult with Silk Spitter,” Arachno Bro answered. “He’s the best costume design expert in the guild’s history.”
“But we also came up with our own designs and ideas,” Thuggernaut added. “We all tried to create an outfit that would fit your new personas, though if we missed the mark, we won’t take offense if you change things. These are ultimately a best guess.”
“I can’t speak for the others, but you hit mine right on the head.” Tori could hear Beverly throw back her own curtain and emerge, followed by the sound of light clapping and appropriate compliments. Curiosity got the better of her, and without thinking, Tori emerged as well.
Unlike Tori’s outfit, Beverly’s had been built for more than to be stuffed into a meta-suit. The emerald green armor perfectly matched her eyes, the trunk section covering her chest like something out of a gladiator film. More armor covered the leather skirt that flared wide and stopped just above her knees. The matching boots ran halfway up her long shins and on her forearms were a set of studded bracers. Most eye-catching of all was the mask, which almost looked reptilian unless one had seen Beverly shift, in which case they instantly recognized the dragon that had inspired it. Aside from the green coloring, it was actually quite similar to Thuggernaut’s costume, a touch that was clearly not lost on Beverly as she stared down at her new armor.
“You look badass,” Tori said. She did too; Beverly looked like she was ready to step into a battle, not go mingle with other villains.
“And it’s all enchanted to shift with you,” Thuggernaut told her. “Changes color too, so it will always match your scales.”
“I love it,” Beverly said, and a moment later she was hugging the oversized brute, who did his best to return the affection without injuring her.
“Gotta say, my main man Arachno Bro knocked this one out of the park.” Lance emerged from behind his curtain in a suit that looked as though it were made entirely of rings and pockets. It ran the entire length of his body, seemingly unbroken; though when he moved Tori could make out a few seams where pieces might come off as well as chunks of armor concealed under its bulk. The color was off-white like an old eggshell, and the matching mask covered his entire head, rendering him seemingly featureless. Not even his eyes could be made out, though they still functioned, as evidenced by the effortless way he reached up and met the strange hand of his mentor in a high-five that echoed off the walls.
“Figured you should look the part,” Arachno Bro replied, though no one else seemed to have any idea what they were talking about.
“Mine’s a good fit,” Tori said, turning to Ivan. He stared at her carefully, as though he weren’t entirely sure that it was truly his apprentice under the new threads. Which, in a way, it wasn’t.
“I’ve been assured the fabric is as durable as we can engineer,” Ivan told her. “And it goes without saying that they’ve been designed to shift with your form. Also... you look quite lovely. I mean, intimidating. Like a real villain.” Ivan gave up trying to clarify and instead coughed into his hand, an action that drew chuckles from Thuggernaut, Arachno Bro, and even Doctor Mechaniacal.
“I think what Pseudonym is trying to say is that you truly look the part of a grown, powerful villain,” Doctor Mechaniacal said, stepping in after the laughter died down. “He’s bad with words, but if you search carefully, the sentiment shines through.”
Tori bobbed her head in agreement but didn’t bother replying. She already knew what Doctor Mechaniacal was telling her, as well as what Ivan had been trying to say. The gruff old villain always seemed stymied when things took a turn for the overly-emotional or sincere; a trait she’d actually grown to find endearing. Beverly and Thuggernaut could have their hugs; sending Ivan into awkward silence told her all she needed to know about how important this moment was.
“Sorry, everybody, mine took a few minutes to figure out,” Warren called before pushing the curtain aside. Like Tori, his costume featured black heavily, though that was just about the only similarity they had in common. While she’d been given red as an accent color, his outfit sported purple, not unlike the color his fingers would glow when etching a rune. Along with a mask, pants, long-sleeved shirt, boots, and gloves, his outfit also came with a billowing cloak that hung from his shoulders, almost like a cape if the cut had been slightly different. Instead of making him look like a superhero, however, the addition caused him to resemble a sorcerer, calling on the classic look of a robe without actually using one.
“As I’m sure you can tell, there are heavy enchantments woven throughout that garb,” Balaam told him. “Protective and concealing magic, of course, but also many an augmentation charm channeled into the gloves to increase the potency of your wards.”
“Thank you very much, sir. I will strive to make you proud every time I wear it.” Warren bowed to his teacher, who waited several seconds and then returned the gesture.
“And with that, it’s almost time to send you back out on stage,” Doctor Mechaniacal told them. “But we should probably wait for at least a few more minutes; if I don’t break up these ceremonies into small chunks, people get antsy. And antsy villains, even if they don’t mean harm, can be more trouble than they’re worth. So, while we wait for the last of the group to finish raiding the refreshment tables, why don’t we go ahead and do presents?”
“Shit,” Lance said, glancing at Arachno Bro. “Were we supposed to get you all thank-you gifts? I’m so sorry, man, no one told me, but I definitely would have if I knew—”
“Chill,” Arachno Bro said, putting a clawed hand on Lance’s shoulder. “We’re the ones who give the gifts. Costumes are covered by the guild, but these come from us. Something to help each of you on whatever path you choose from here.”
With that, the four mentors lined up directly across from their apprentices. Silence overtook the room.
Chapter 73
A solemn air swept over them, the cheer fading into the background as Doctor Mechaniacal wheeled out a small table with four boxes lined up on top. He took it to the mentor nearest to him, which happened to be Arachno Bro. The spider-like man gave a nod of thanks to the guild’s leader, then carefully took one of the boxes and walked it over to Lance. With a steady hand, he held it out to the apprentice he’d trained, who accepted and opened it uncertainly.
“It’s a book,” Arachno Bro explained as Lance pulled a hefty tome out from the depths of the box. “I mean, you can see that. But it’s a book cataloguing as many meta-insects and their native habitats as I could find. Once you learn how to summon more of those, you’re going to be a real menace, and this should serve as a good map for that journey.”
“That is awesome.” Lance’s voice was hushed with awe as he flipped through the pages, taking note of the carefully-gathered information crammed on every available surface. Even at a glance, he could recognize the unique penmanship of his mentor and knew that Arachno Bro had personally compiled all this information just for him. “Thank you so much. Not just for the book. For everything.”
“Thank you, as well,” Arachno Bro replied. “I’d forgotten what joy could be found in teaching and molding young minds. It’s a pastime I’ve been unable to indulge in since my accident, yet you gave it back to me. I will always look back fondly on my time as your mentor.”
While they spoke, Doctor Mechaniacal moved down the line, arriving at Balaam. The sorcerer plucked a long box from the top of the table and walked it over to Warren. Visibly nervous, Warren accepted the gift, carefully opening it to reveal a slender rod covered in runes. At his touch, it sparked and began to glow with the same purple energy that surrounded Warren’s fingers when his magic was in use.
“Every good caster needs a
wand or a staff,” Balaam said, holding out his hand to manifest his own staff, which stood a few feet taller than him and housed a pulsing red jewel at its crown. “I concluded that the wand would be easier to write with. It can channel your energies and augment them, adding on to the power woven through your costume. More importantly, it also has the capacity to store a single rune at a time, allowing you to cast in a hurry with nothing more than the flick of a wrist.”
“I... Thank you so much, sir. Such power is more than I deserve.” Warren lowered his head, even as he kept his eyes trained on the glowing wand.
“Nonsense. Even if you are now a full guild member, you will always have been my apprentice. I can’t very well have a student I trained getting caught or killed as soon as they leave my tutelage. Use the tools you’ve been given and have a long, successful career as a villain,” Balaam instructed him.
The table and Doctor Mechaniacal kept rolling to Thuggernaut, who’d inserted himself between Ivan and Balaam, likely to ensure the evening stayed peaceful. The giant man reached down and plucked the smallest box from the table. He held it out to Beverly, who broke the seal with the nail of her thumb and pulled out a small golden ring with a curiously-designed rune etched into its center.
“Blending in is hard for us big folks,” Thuggernaut told her, watching as she slipped the ring on to her right hand. “But you’ve got the option of slipping away into obscurity, thanks to your transformations. Seeing as you’ve got all the fighting power a meta could need, I decided that your gift should be something to make getting in and out of dangerous situations a little easier. Press the rune in the center.”
Beverly dutifully obliged, angling the ring on her fourth finger down so she could press the rune with her thumb. Just like that, she was gone, as the gasp from Tori and Warren both attested to.
“What?” Beverly said, her voice seeming to manifest from nothing.
“You just disappeared, that’s what,” Tori snapped. Moments later, Beverly reappeared, thumb no longer in contact with the rune on the ring. She looked at Thuggernaut for explanation, which he cheerfully provided.
“As long as you wear the ring and touch the rune, you’ll be invisible. While it recharges naturally, it doesn’t have a lot of juice. You shouldn’t count on it for more than a minute per day. Just long enough to slip out of view and become a dragon, or vice versa.”
“Wow, that is functional,” Beverly said, gazing at her ring with new appreciation. “I love it. Thank you, Thuggernaut!”
As they hugged, Doctor Mechaniacal continued his trek to the sole remaining mentor. Ivan plucked the final box from the table and handed it nonchalantly to Tori. It wasn’t as big as Lance or Warren’s boxes, but it certainly was larger than Beverly’s. Tori had no clue what could be inside. She pulled the packaging open to reveal a small orb suspended between a pair of metal rings.
“What is... oh, no way.” While the strange device seemed alien at first, the longer Tori gazed at it, the faster her mind worked, recalling half-scribbled diagrams in highly theoretical research notes she’d glimpsed throughout her studies. Carefully, as though the orb were made of a soap bubble that would pop on contact, she lifted it up, unsurprised to find that it moved as if it had no mass at all.
“Ivan, this is a miniature gravitational anomaly generator.” Tori’s eyes were so large they threatened to stretch outside the confines of her new mask. “These don’t even technically exist.”
“You’d be surprised what can be purchased when one has guild connections,” Ivan said. Of course, everyone in the room knew he’d just bought it from Doctor Mechaniacal, but keeping up a certain amount of vague mysteriousness was important for villains, even amongst each other. “Besides, after Wednesday’s debacle, I thought you could use a little more mobility.”
“Hey, so, um, you got to hear the explanation of what all our stuff does,” Beverly pointed out. “Anyone want to tell us what the deal with the weird orb is?”
“It can generate a field of reduced weight, even complete weightlessness,” Tori babbled excitedly. “It will tremendously scale back the amount of thrust I’ll need for my initial momentum and...” She trailed off as the eyes looking at her began to glaze over. Perhaps this was not the time to try and educate everyone on theoretical gravitational anomaly devices, so she decided to cut to the chase. “When properly equipped, it will let my suit fly.”
“Sweet,” Beverly said.
“Badass,” Lance echoed.
“And with that, the giving of gifts has concluded,” Doctor Mechaniacal announced. “Your mentors will hold on to the less portable items you’ve received for convenience. You should all wait here and listen closely. I shall introduce you one at a time to the guild. When your name is called, you are to walk on stage and join me. These are the final moments where the vestiges of apprenticeship will cling to you, so if you have anything to say to your mentors, feel free to do so.”
The room immediately began to split off as Doctor Mechaniacal exited the room. They could hear his unmistakable voice crackling over the speakers as he called the rest of the guild back to order. Amid the not-quite-whispered conversations, Tori looked at Ivan, still tucked under his idiotic Pseudonym mask.
“Feels a little odd to think about having a heart-to-heart. I mean, I’m going to see you on Sunday night. Not much to say now that couldn’t be said then.”
“Technically quite correct,” Ivan agreed.
“Except that, I should say that I really like my orb. It’s an amazing gift, one that means the world to me.” Tori looked down at the weightless device, noting that she could see a distorted reflection of herself in its depths. The masked woman staring back at her bore almost no resemblance to the thief who’d stupidly busted into a vault owned by a guild of villains. She was so much stronger now and knew a tremendous amount more about how to survive. She also knew that none of it would have been possible if the man in front of her hadn’t agreed to take an apprentice.
“Also... thanks for saving my life,” Tori said. “I know we didn’t exactly want to be paired up, but you had a choice, and you chose to save me. To teach me. To give me the best chance of surviving in this world. I’ll always be thankful for that.”
Ivan took a step toward her and rested his hand on top of her head, mussing her hair where it emerged from under her mask. “I owe you a debt of thanks, too. Teaching you has reminded me why this guild was founded, why it matters. We are more than the guard dogs who keep the more disruptive metas at bay. We give guidance and direction to those who would hear it. We are a refuge for those who are lost. Amid all the dirtier matters we deal with, I’d managed to forget that. Thank you, Tori, for reminding me why I helped create this guild in the first place.”
“Does that mean I can expect to see Pseudonym out and about, tearing up the streets?” Tori asked.
“I highly doubt it,” Ivan replied. “But one never knows what the future holds in store. Oh, before I forget, there is one more thing I wanted to tell you: wear your work clothes when you come home on Sunday. I have one more gift, though far less substantial or useful than the orb.”
“That’s all the info I get?” Tori asked.
“Surprises aren’t much fun if you know what they entail,” Ivan told her.
Overhead, Doctor Mechaniacal’s voice reached a crescendo, and he loudly called for Bahamut to come out and join him. Beverly gave Thuggernaut one last glance, and then hurried out of the room. No sooner had she vanished than a wave of applause crashed through the speakers as the guild welcomed its newest member.
“He does these alphabetically,” Ivan whispered. His words came only a few seconds before Doctor Mechaniacal called for Glyph, who took a deep breath and tried to walk with as much confidence as he could muster. This time, the applause sent butterflies through Tori’s stomach, as she realized there were only seconds until he called—
“Hephaestus!”
The woman who had stared down a team of capes on her first official guil
d outing felt her courage tremble for a sliver of a second, then she mustered up her gumption and strode toward the door. Stepping out onto the stage, Tori faltered momentarily as the lights blinded her. Blinking away the spots in her eyes, she continued forward to stand next to Glyph as the sea of villains, so many of them unfamiliar, clapped and cheered. Tori could make out the electronic whistling of Xelas and a lot of hooting that seemed to be coming from Johnny.
“Pest Control!” Doctor Mechaniacal bellowed, and seconds later Lance arrived, taking the empty spot next to her. He was washed in cheering as well, until Doctor Mechaniacal held up his armored hand and the room went silent.
“With their names chosen, their trials overcome, and their apprentice costumes shed, these four have now officially completed all requirements to join our ranks. Please, guild-mates, welcome our newest official members!”
If the cheering at their names had been enthusiastic, this seemed downright overpowering. What made it all the more entrancing was that they weren’t cheering because Doctor Mechaniacal told them too; the joy in their claps and screams was far too sincere. They were genuinely happy to see four new members pass the bar of entrance and become one of them. Their guild, their family, had grown a little bit bigger today, and that was all the reason they needed to be overjoyed.
It was over, Tori realized. She, Beverly, Lance, and Warren, they were all free, and no matter what paths they might choose to go down from here, they all had a home.
* * *
Nexus walked down the charred, smoldering streets, stepping over a couple of corpses that had melted in place. Above him, the sky was dark as a broken world tried in vain to repair itself. Amid the black clouds, red streaks of lightning crackled, threatening those who dwelled below with more torment. Well, if there had been anyone living below, anyway. This was the site where it had all begun, and as such, Nexus was the only creature who drew breath among the shattered streets.