by Drew Hayes
“I take this to mean you will not be coming peacefully,” he said.
Morgana dipped her head for a moment, noticing that the attack had opened up several wounds in her back and legs, which were now oozing blood. “Unfortunately, you’re spot on.” She raised her eyes, meeting the empty green sockets where Erinite’s would be were he human. “But any time you’re ready to surrender, I’ll happily accept.”
“I was warned you would be stubborn.” More crystal growths appeared on his arms and legs, all ready to fire with no more than a single thought. That was okay; Morgana had a few tricks of her own. There was a reason she’d rated the same level of security as Fornax and Doctor Mechaniacal when the capes had finally managed to bring her in.
“Whoever warned you was right. And before you die, I’m going to rip their name out of your shiny mouth, one shard at a time.” With a last breath for strength, Morgana pushed off from the oven with all her might. Erinite, clearly waiting for just such an action, fired a barrage of projectiles directly at her, a slew of miniature javelins coming to shred her flesh.
* * *
Wade was waiting in his office as Balaam strode through the door, staff in hand. That was to be expected; Balaam had specifically booked this time for a meeting several days prior. The very bureaucracy that hung heavily on the guild’s neck was the smokescreen he’d used to conceal the true purpose for his visit. It seemed a fitting touch for such an occasion.
“Afternoon,” Wade said. He was dressed in slacks and a button-down, no doubt having come in from the Indigo offices where he was nothing more than a simple billionaire genius inventor. Of course, going out in public meant he wasn’t clad in his Doctor Mechaniacal suit, rendering him functionally human, save for his astounding intellect. “Today was the budget meeting for the magical department, right?”
“Actually, I don’t think that will be necessary.” Balaam made a quick motion with his staff. The doors to Wade’s office slammed shut, a slight red glow visible on the glass panes. “In fact, I don’t think we’re ever going to have another budget meeting again. Not that there should have been any to start with.” Wade blinked at him benignly as Balaam continued. “Look at what you’ve done, Wade. You took a collection of some of the most powerful and morally flexible meta-humans on the planet, and you pulled out their fangs. With the power in this guild, we could have taken over the world.”
“And then what?” Wade leaned back in his expensive, contoured leather chair. “What happens after we take over the world? Then we have to run it. Chaos breeds rebellion, and you certainly wouldn’t want to lose your place at the top of the order. So then we’d have to split into cabinets, divide up duties, and yes, have lots of meetings about things like budgets. You think this guild is bad? Five weeks of ruling the world and you’d be begging for me to build a time machine to put everything back in proper order.”
“I can’t imagine that happening.” Balaam slowly crossed the room, wary of any traps or defenses Wade might have. He’d layered himself in enough spells and wards to protect against everything short of a nuclear strike, but those who underestimated the mind of Wade Wyatt rarely lived to tell about it.
“I can, but I don’t have to,” Wade replied. “Back when I went looking for Morgana during a reality rip debacle, I crossed quite a few interesting dimensions. Or did you think my decision to go legit was merely a softening of my heart?”
“Never gave it much thought. I just know you went weak. Do you know how happy I was when I learned that not only were the legends of my youth out of prison, but they’d formed a group of powerful villains? I expected to fight alongside you and Fornax, to lay waste to the pathetic do-gooders that are the AHC, to claim our rightful place as gods and kings. Instead I got break rooms, codes, and budget meetings. You’ve forgotten what it is to live with the freedom of true villainy, but I’m going to remind you. I’m going to remind this whole guild.”
Balaam finished crossing the room, no traps or surprises taking him off guard. There were only a few feet between him and the still-relaxed Wade. The lack of concern on the guild leader’s face was off-putting, but Balaam surmised that it had to be a bluff. Balaam had him dead to rights and Wade knew it: he was just trying to pretend he still had an ace up his sleeve.
“Even if you could kill me, the rest of the council would tear you apart for this kind of treachery,” Wade told him.
“They’re being dealt with,” Balaam said. “I had to send in some specialists for Xelas, Morgana, and Pseudonym, but Gork and Stasis are easy to contain with the right spells. You’re the last member of the council that might pose a problem, which is why I decided to handle you personally.”
“Balaam, you know this doesn’t end well, don’t you?” Wade slipped his feet from the desk and leaned forward, causing Balaam to take a half-step backward, just in case. “I won’t say there’s time to turn back—you’ve definitely made your bed and there’s no skirting the repercussions—but you can still start making some smart calls. Don’t drag down more of the guild with this idiotic quest. Die with at least some dignity.”
“You know, I think the only thing in this guild that I hate more than Pseudonym’s submissive, weak-willed demeanor is that ridiculous know-it-all attitude of yours. Just because you’re a great inventor doesn’t make you omniscient.” Balaam’s grip on his staff tightened, his fingers aching from the pressure. “I’m done listening to your high-and-mighty lectures. Today, your guild burns, and mine will rise from its ashes.”
“I don’t think you’ve—”
The words were cut off as Balaam whipped his staff around and stabbed the butt of it directly into Wade Wyatt’s heart. A shock of copper hair became visible as Wade looked down at his chest in surprise then met Balaam’s eyes. Slowly, Wade shook his head, and let out a soft whisper.
“So be it. Just remember, this is the path you chose, Balaam. There’s no one else to blame but yourself.” With that, Wade’s head fell backward onto the chair as his whole body went limp. It should have been a moment for celebration, but something was off. Balaam yanked his staff free of Wade’s chest, and immediately realized what was wrong with the picture.
There was no blood coming from the wound, and with the staff removed, the reason was evident. Instead of a red, pulpy mess of insides like Balaam had been expecting, only circuits and sparks gleamed beneath Wade’s skin.
“A fake,” he muttered, though he was sure his words were still being transmitted somewhere. “You crafty bastard, you sent a fake to this meeting. Did you know what was coming? No... no, I bet you do this all the time.”
This was bad. Wade Wyatt was a dangerous man, and Balaam had failed to sweep him off the game board. Still, it didn’t mean all was lost. He’d taken out the rest of the council, and even Doctor Mechaniacal wasn’t unstoppable. It would mean a harder fight; that was all.
“Nice trick!” Balaam yelled to the empty room. “Congratulations, Wade, you get to live for a few more hours. I think I actually prefer it this way. Now you can watch as your guild is destroyed.”
Balaam turned from the desk, parted the doors with a motion of his staff, and stormed out of the room.
Chapter 80
In the span of an hour, it seemed like the entire world had gone mad. Hephaestus hovered over Kelsington Prep and watched as her helmet’s data stream filled with reports of an attack on downtown Ridge City. First the bombs went off, then a small horde of people in costumes started swarming the capes on the streets. Next an armada of tiny drones appeared to aid the attackers. The whole place had fallen into total chaos, and apparently Apollo was about to make a speech addressing what was happening. Clearly this was associated with the attack on her and the threats toward Ivan’s kids, but Hephaestus only had the capacity to handle one problem at a time.
Right now the biggest issue was how to get Ivan’s kids to safety. No, that wasn’t good enough. If Rust Tooth was telling the truth, then the whole building could come crashing down, killing way more peop
le than just Rick and Beth. Hephaestus might be a thief, a guild-certified villain, and now a killer, but she wasn’t so far gone into evil that the idea of letting children die sat well with her. She had to get the whole school evacuated, but how? Lighting a fire seemed risky, and while she might be able to convince the management that they were in danger, it would take time, time they might not have. If Bombastic learned that the kids were fleeing, there was a chance he’d blow the school. Whatever she did, it needed to make them move fast.
A ringing in her ear stole her attention, and when she saw the name on the incoming call, Hephaestus nearly cried with happiness. She accepted the call and all but screamed: “Beverly! What the living fuck! I was worried about you.”
“You were worried about me? There’s news footage of some crazy person in your armor flying away from a busted house and a meta-human corpse, and you were the one worried?”
Hephaestus winced at the choice of words—she really hoped Beverly was using a secure line, otherwise anyone monitoring them just found out that Tori Rivas’s phone connected to the person in a black and red meta-suit. Well, what was done was done, so she’d just have to roll with it.
“Yeah, I’m fine, there’s just some shit going down with the guild right now. I don’t know what, but I’m not sure how safe any of us are. Are you in the building?”
“No, I didn’t want to get pinned in by the crowds and traffic, so I went to visit my family,” Beverly told her. “I was almost back when everything started going nuts. I pulled over to check the news and saw your calls. What the hell is going on?”
“Someone at the guild is planning a revolution, trying to oust the current leaders. I got targeted as Pseudonym’s apprentice. Thuggernaut isn’t on the council, so you might be safe, but he is pretty good friends with a lot of them. I’d recommend lying low until we see what their next move is,” Hephaestus told her.
“I’m not a big fan of hiding,” Beverly shot back.
“Consider it strategic information gathering,” Hephaestus replied. “Until we actually know who to fight, you can’t very well throw punches. How far are you from Ridge City Grinders, the place where Chloe works?”
“Couple of blocks, but traffic is impossible.” Over Beverly’s line the sounds of shouting and people running could be made out.
“Then walk. It’s a central location, so you’ll be set to respond, and Chloe might need a friend with how close she is to the shitshow. Besides, if worse comes to worse, she can teleport you both to somewhere safe.”
“And what will you do while I run and hide?” Beverly asked.
“I... I don’t want to talk about it over the phone.” Giving away her secret identity was one thing, but the wrong word in the wrong ear could turn the school below her into an inferno. “Just trust me, it’s important. I’ll meet up with you as soon as I—”
A loud, blaring tone filled her ear as the emergency broadcast system built into her phone let her know there was an announcement incoming. From the cursing on the other end of the line, Beverly had also gotten an earful. Quickly looking at the net, Hephaestus saw Apollo’s form fill the screen; he stood in front of a downtown building, prepared to make a live address.
“Friends, citizens, protectors of Ridge City, today is a dark time in our town’s history. It has come to our attention that the attacks you’ve all seen this afternoon were not, as one might have hoped, individual assaults from meta-criminals. What is happening around us is far, far worse. It seems that there has been an entire group of meta-criminals lurking in the shadows for some time—some arrested and released through legal means, others who beat the system on technicalities—all of whom have gathered together and formed a guild to share power and resources. Today they made their move, striking at the city and the AHC while we were occupied by the test of our base’s defense systems, when they suspected us to be at our weakest.”
Apollo’s face flickered away, showing the hordes of costumed attackers, as well as the drones sweeping in and firing at random on capes and civilians alike. Now that she was taking a good look at them, the costumes didn’t seem like they would be guild-issue: they were all cheap and uninspiring. And the attackers, to a one, all had the same height. Body shape varied, but as a woman in a meta-suit, Hephaestus knew all too well how easily clothing could replicate such apparent differences. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a spark of insight tickled her skull.
A moment later the scene was gone, replaced by Apollo’s solemn face.
“Thankfully, we were able to apprehend several of the perpetrators. We have learned that this was only the first step in their plan. Most of their accomplices are holed up in one location, a building only a few miles from our own, one that the AHC is currently in the process of surrounding.”
Another flicker. Hephaestus’s heart sank as the familiar exterior of the guild came into view. Dozens of capes were circling up around it; several who wore masks that didn’t hide their entire faces looked to be out for blood. She couldn’t blame them, not really. With the narrative Apollo had constructed and a sudden attack, she’d have been pissed off too.
“I would like to address any of those villains currently hiding inside this building.” Apollo’s voice washed over her while she stared at the image of the guild. “Please, surrender yourselves willingly. Do not make today any worse than it has to be. Several of your leaders have already been taken into custody. Make the smart choice and give up. Because we will be coming in and arresting everyone, and those who resist cannot have their safety guaranteed.”
With that, the feed ended. Hephaestus realized she was still on the line with Beverly when the other woman muttered, “What the hell?”
“It’s war,” Hephaestus said, the last of the pieces falling into place. “Some of the guild got tired of peace, so they decided to fake a coordinated attack on the capes. The council would have reached out to the AHC’s leaders and told them the truth, which was why Ivan and I were attacked. Probably the others have been too. Whoever is doing this is trying to destroy the peace between our guild and the capes. They want to go back to the old ways. They want to start a war.”
“I’m feeling happy to oblige.” There was a ferocity in Beverly’s voice that Hephaestus recognized as the dragon slipping through. Much as she wanted to turn her friend loose, she could still hear Ivan’s voice cautioning her about what happened when villains and capes went to war.
“No. Not yet, Beverly. Stick to the plan. Get to Chloe and wait until you have a clear enemy, or until you’re forced to act. Just because someone tried to take out the council doesn’t mean they succeeded. Let’s see how things play out for a little longer before we make a misstep.”
“I don’t like that plan,” Beverly growled. There were a few moments of silence, and when she spoke again, her voice was normal, if annoyed. “But you’re better than I am at planning, so I’m going to trust you… for now. Just don’t keep me on the sidelines for too long. And stay by your phone.”
“No choice in the matter, the thing is patched into my helmet,” Hephaestus replied. “Stay safe, and good luck out there.”
“Same to you, with whatever you’re doing.”
The line went dead, leaving Hephaestus alone with her problem of how to forcibly evacuate a school as quickly as possible. An idea sprang to mind, born thanks to Apollo, of all people. It wouldn’t exactly be the most PR-friendly way to handle the situation, but that’s why she was a villain instead of a cape. She got to do the things that superheroes never would. Besides, Apollo had already whipped Ridge City into terror; she might as well use it to her own ends.
“Oh, I’m not doing much,” Hephaestus said to no one, decreasing her altitude as she checked her weapon systems. “Only breaking in to a school full of children and forcing them to evacuate. No big deal, just that if this goes south, Ivan’s going to rip my head off, and if it goes right, then I’m probably going to be seen as a total monster.”
Her boots landed softly in the grass, and
she set her sights on the nearest door.
“Fuck it. Here goes nothing.”
* * *
“It’s bullshit,” Johnny Three Dicks said, looking at the news feed of capes circling the guild’s exterior. “That’s obviously all Endless Blitz and the drones are Torkak’s handiwork. How are they going to pin the work of two assholes on our entire guild?”
All around him were murmurs of agreement. Most of the guild members who’d been on-site had all gathered up in the same place—the giant media room near the building’s center. It was used for situations when the guild was gathered to collectively witness something, like massive fights between capes and other metas or the Super Bowl. Today, it showed them the events that had led up to their home being encircled, which were playing on constant loop from the various news stations.
“They know we didn’t all do it, they just don’t care,” said Kilo Byte. “It’s a setup. The whole thing is designed to incriminate us, and by the time the dust clears, no one will care that we didn’t have any involvement.”
“I don’t get it,” Meg Byte said, shaking her head next to Kilo. “Why do the capes want to take us down so bad? The peace worked for them.”
“It worked for some of them, the ones in control,” Thuggernaut corrected. “But they’ve been appearing less and less in recent years. My guess is that the new ones aren’t quite as content having known criminals nearby. Since they couldn’t get enough evidence to come after us legitimately, they decided to do it this way.”
“Then why the hell hasn’t one of the council members reached out to their leaders?” Arcanicus asked. “We know they sometimes talk. It feels like one phone call could straighten this all out.”
“Too public,” Pod Person replied. “Even if they wanted to, Apollo just aired our fake laundry in front of the entire world. They couldn’t just say ‘whoops’ and fall back. Besides, I haven’t seen any of the council members in hours.”