by Drew Hayes
“Appreciate the trust. I’m harder to cut, so I’ll help carry you. Rick, you come with us and lead the way—”
Hephaestus’s orders were cut off by the deafening sound of an explosion. The roof tumbled downward as the sound of more explosions filled the air.
Hephaestus, and Ivan’s kids, had run out of time.
Chapter 82
“Do the shackles feel familiar? I specially brought in your old set from Rookstone. I’m aware that they aren’t quite as effective without that cell and its specialty wards, but I think they’re really more symbolic in the first place.”
Ivan looked up at the new voice in the room. He knew the man lit by a golden glow; the curly hair and constant smile were unmistakable, even if two of his known flunkies hadn’t kidnapped Ivan from his office and dragged him to the empty floor of another building. The room’s only accessories were the metal chair he was sitting in, the large shackles binding his forearms, and of course, the five circles of runes between him and his jailers. Blunderbuss and Lady Shade both stood a bit straighter as the man walked in, like they’d been called to attention.
“Apollo, right? I’ve seen you on the news a few times.” Ivan wasn’t sure why he bothered being surly, save that it was the lone avenue of protest he still possessed.
“Come now, you’ve seen me far more than a few,” Apollo replied. “I’m all over the place. I’m basically the new Lodestar.”
Ivan’s eyes flickered, switching to the red runes for a half second. He met Apollo’s cheer with a grim smile of his own. “Kid, you might be a lot of things, but the new Lodestar isn’t among them. You aren’t worth the shit on the bottom of Lodestar’s shoes. Even if you had her power—and you don’t—she would never stoop so low as to hold someone’s children hostage.”
“Me, hold hostages? I’m appalled by the idea.” Apollo walked forward, crossing the warded circles without concern, despite the worry on Lady Shade’s face. He came within spitting distance of Ivan, and then hunkered down so the two were eye-to-eye.
“I didn’t have to take hostages, Fornax. There was already someone out there more than happy to do it for me. That little guild of yours is wrong; it goes against the ideas of decency and law that this country was founded upon. Every time I had to go to a crime scene where we knew you were the perpetrators but lacked the evidence to prove it, I hated you a little more. But it never occurred to me that I wasn’t the only one who saw the way you’d violated the natural order. Imagine my shock when I finally caught one of you in the act, only to find we were of a like mind.”
Apollo reached into his costume and pulled out a glowing red stone. He set it gently on the floor, and suddenly an illusion manifested in the air above it. Balaam’s smug satisfaction at seeing Ivan in shackles could be felt radiating off him even without his physical presence. The traitor was still adorned in his villain costume, complete with the mask that matched the blood-red of his irises.
“My, how many times have I dreamed about this moment, seeing you broken and kenneled like the mutt you are,” Balaam said.
“You see, Fornax—or we can call you Ivan if you prefer—Balaam is the one who took your children hostage. We merely acted as middle men.” Apollo walked around the chair slowly, letting his words echo through the empty room. “I’ll admit, it isn’t the most heroic act I’ve undertaken, but it was a necessary tactic to keep you under control. The rest of your council is being captured, or killed if they resist, but you were too dangerous. Anyone who can fight on the same level as Lodestar is too big a risk to tangle with.”
Apollo finished his rotation and looked into Ivan’s eyes once more. “Your guild is done, Ivan Gerhardt. We will level it to the foundation and arrest you all for the myriad of crimes you’ve managed to get away with until today. Right now, the AHC is raiding your headquarters; with none of the council to help, I imagine the lack of power and leadership will make for a quick victory. But we know there are security measures in place designed to destroy any evidence that might make our court cases simpler. You can still save yourself, Ivan. Play ball, tell us how to get what we need, and perhaps you can get out with a reduced sentence.”
“And if I don’t, you kill my kids.” Ivan spat, glaring at Apollo.
Despite the fact that Ivan was seated, Apollo took a slight step back. “How about a little credit here; I’m not a monster,” he replied. “I won’t play that card to make you talk. If you want to stay silent, you can go down with the rest of your guild.”
“Even Balaam?” Ivan asked.
“Oh, we’re most certainly enemies,” Balaam replied, still shimmering in and out of focus above the stone. “But I at least respect that relationship. Not all the guild members were in the base, you know. Lots of us were scattered about, living our own lives. When this is done, I’ll gather them up, and we can finally restart the organization the way it should have been. No more hiding, no more slinking about. We meet the capes head on, a contest of power, and when we wipe them from the Earth, our victory will be all the sweeter.”
“Balaam and I both want this world the way it’s supposed to be: heroes acting like heroes, villains acting like villains,” Apollo said. “This red tape bullshit ends today. I’m willing to give you a little leeway here, Ivan. I know you tried to go straight. Just help us out, and perhaps we can make that dream come true.”
Ivan leaned his head back, tilting his eyes away from Balaam and Apollo, gazing up at the gray ceiling. “You are all so impossibly stupid, I don’t even know where to start. Trying to shatter peace, even if it’s not one you agree with, is the work of the mad and the wicked, so I understand why Balaam would do it. But you, Apollo, I’d thought maybe you were a bit smarter. Then again, you both also made some serious other miscalculations.”
He leaned forward, and this time, Apollo’s step backward was more of a jump. Ivan’s eyes blazed in a way that had nothing to do with his power, rage and disdain burning inside them. “Do you really think the council will die that easily? Do you really think the guild is made up of weaklings to be easily captured or killed? There’s a reason your betters agreed to this peace, Apollo, and it wasn’t just for convenience. All of us are smart, strong, and determined enough to have won our freedom or caught the eye of more experienced villains. None of us, not one, is weak and disposable. None of us got our job because we looked good on camera or had a knack for dealing with the press. If you can’t say the same, then I hope you prepared for this mission by digging a mass grave, because even if you get your wish—especially if you get your wish—you’re going to need it.”
Apollo was rendered speechless by the tirade, but Balaam, unfortunately, was not. “You know, Ivan, I’ve always hated that stubborn streak of yours. Deep down, that’s half of why I agreed to this plan. It allowed me to finally see you broken and humbled. I’d thought being helpless, your children under threat, your body shackled by pathetic pissants you could easily rip through, that would be enough to bring you there. But it seems I miscalculated. An error I will now rectify.” The tip of his staff glowed and the sorcerer leaned forward, whispering into it. “Bombastic, liquidate our holdings.”
Balaam vanished. In his place was a new illusion, one of Kelsington Prep from above. Before anyone could speak, a series of explosions tore through it, collapsing the structure inward and turning what remained into a smoking inferno. Then it was gone and Balaam was back, a wide smile plastered across his face.
“Balaam, what the fuck!” Apollo reached forward to grab Balaam’s neck and only stopped himself after his hands were halfway through the hologram. “That was a bluff! There were never supposed to be any actual bombs at the school. Those were kids, you son of a bitch.”
“Correction: those were Ivan’s kids, along with a bit of collateral damage,” Balaam replied, tilting his staff toward the shackled man. Ivan’s eyes had closed and his hands were clenched so tightly that the knuckles were turning white. “And as much as I loathe Ivan, I’m something of a Fornax fan-boy. With no more family to
weigh him down, I’m curious to see if the ancient terror makes a reappearance.”
“That’s insane. You just blew up a school to antagonize him? I thought you wanted him out of the way!” Apollo was on the verge of tears, the image of the falling school seared into his mind. That wasn’t how this was supposed to go; they’d mapped everything out so carefully, and the mass murder of children was never a part of it.
“I wanted Ivan out of the way. Fornax is another matter entirely. He’ll be an excellent distraction while my people lead the counterattack on your superheroes,” Balaam replied.
“Attack... no, you’re supposed to lie low, let us pick off the ones at the base,” Apollo said.
“Honestly, I can’t believe you weren’t expecting a betrayal.” Balaam twirled his staff once and the gem began to flicker. “The older capes never would have fallen for something like this. Oh, and Ivan was right: I might have misled you on how tough of a fight you’ll be facing at the guild headquarters. Some will certainly survive, at least until reinforcements arrive. You might be able to handle us, but something tells me you’ll be... occupied.”
With that, the stone flickered out, leaving Apollo alone inside the warded circles with the man in the chair who’d failed to say a word since a school came down on top of his children. Apollo began backing away quickly, getting past the safety of the first few circles before he even tried to speak.
“Ivan, that wasn’t us. That was Balaam. And all we saw was the building go down. Your kids might be okay.”
“Balaam is too thorough. The bomb was too big. They’re dead. You trusted that madman, and now my children are dead.” Ivan barely stirred, but his arms surged, gripping each shackle and tearing through it like they were made of wet paper. Dark, pulsing lines of energy were running across his skin, and as he stood up, the chair beneath him exploded into chunks. Slowly, he turned to Apollo and opened his eyes. They were completely black, save for the red runes that burned so brightly it was like staring into the very fires of hell.
“Did you really want to see Fornax that badly?” His voice was different, higher and inhuman, the way Apollo imagined a cobra would sound like if it could talk. Ivan took a single step forward and the first circle of wards exploded into red flames, quickly turning to nothing more than scorch marks.
“Are those things going to hold him?” Blunderbuss yelled, whipping his gun around.
“We had the best magic users we could trust make them,” Lady Shade replied. “Each one could hold the magical equivalent of a charging rhino.”
Another step. The second circle exploded and turned to ash. Ivan shook his head and cast Lady Shade a single glance that filled her with so much terror she was afraid to even shake. “Chaos magic is much harder to bind.”
Third step. This circle burned for a bit longer.
“Ivan, I know you’re mad, but this is what Balaam wants. Help us go get him. We all want revenge, so let’s make it happen together.” Apollo flexed his arms even as he spoke of peace, trying to draw up as much power as possible. He’d seen the tapes of Fornax just like almost everyone else, and deep down, he’d always wondered if he could take the legendary villain, one on one. It wasn’t something he necessarily wanted to test at this precise moment, but it seemed like Ivan would be the one making that choice.
“Balaam is going to die.” The fourth circle burned away. “Everyone is going to die. All of his, all of yours. Everyone.”
The fifth circle started to burn, and Ivan vanished.
Apollo swept the room, looking for him, only to find that he’d reappeared directly behind Blunderbuss. Ivan put each of his hands on either side of the bearded superhero’s head, and from the look on Blunderbuss’s face, it was far from comfortable.
“They really wanted you, Fornax. They wanted you so badly they killed Rick and Beth to make you come out.” Ivan was smiling now, a madman’s grin as he pushed harder on Blunderbuss’s skull. “If they want you that bad, I guess you have to come out. Just do one thing for me, since they went to all that trouble.”
Apollo tried to start forward, finally reacting, but he was too late. One quick pump of pressure and blood and brain matter were raining out from the stump where Blunderbuss’s head had sat. Most of it got on Ivan, who seemed unbothered. No, he was relishing it, smearing the blood and flecks of skull across his face until it dripped down his neck and ears.
He turned to Apollo, an insane smile carved into his blood-soaked face, and whispered in a voice that etched itself into the darkest parts of Apollo’s soul.
“Kill them all.”
Chapter 83
Johnny Three Dicks ran, ducking under a mighty swing by a cape decked out in green tights, coming up behind a female one who was facing the other way. She spun around, eyes literally glowing, and let loose a blast of energy that caught him just above the neck, neatly separating his head from his torso and sending the former rolling across the ground.
As he was about to die, the world before his eyes flashed in a blue light, and then…
Johnny Three Dicks ran, ducking under a mighty swing by a cape decked out in green tights, coming up behind a female one who was facing the other way. She spun around, eyes literally glowing, and let loose a blast of energy... which sailed cleanly over Johnny’s head as he ducked the attack and kicked her squarely in the stomach. She stumbled back but quickly recovered, putting out both hands and blasting Johnny into a bloody streak on the street.
Another flash of blue light and...
Johnny Three Dicks ran, ducking under a mighty swing by a cape decked out in green tights, coming up behind a female one who was facing the other way. She spun around, eyes literally glowing, and let loose a blast of energy, which sailed cleanly over Johnny’s head as he ducked the attack and kicked her squarely in the stomach. As she stumbled back, he followed, his own eyes and hands beginning to glow exactly like hers had.
He struck her with both attacks at once, and while it wasn’t enough to kill her, she did collapse to the ground, small tendrils of smoke wisping off the top of her forehead.
“And that’s why they call me Johnny Three Dicks, doll. No matter which way you try to come, you’re still fucked.”
A fresh explosion interrupted his gloating, one much louder than any of the others they’d heard so far. Johnny scanned the crowd to see what had caused it. The guild members had poured into the street and were currently holding their own against the flood of capes trying to bring them down. It was a stalling tactic, nothing more, and everyone knew it. Even as Thuggernaut and Arcanicus knocked out their opponents, more capes stepped up to take their place. The superheroes simply outnumbered them by too wide of a margin. Add in that all of the council was missing and that they were trying to avoid killing, and the fight was simply unwinnable. All they were doing was stalling for time, hoping that something in the situation would eventually change.
That change burst into being. It flickered between buildings as it chased the golden light of Apollo, who was fleeing so quickly that there was an afterglow trailing him. Johnny was at just the right angle to the see the charred top floor of a nearby office building. It looked like it had been smote by an angry god more than bombed, and as the blood-soaked horror chasing Apollo slipped into view, Johnny realized that that was exactly what had happened.
Pseudonym... no, Fornax was on Apollo’s heels, leaping off the buildings and teleporting to close the distance. He looked like Death made mortal, grin so wide it may as well have been that of a fleshless skull. Each time he got near the glowing cape, he would claw and swing at Apollo wildly, attacking more like an animal than a man. Even so, those wild blows were enough to knock Apollo off course, and left a trail of craters and broken windows in the nearby buildings.
Johnny had been hoping for a change, but this was not what he had in mind. Moving as quickly as he dared, he ran over to Thuggernaut and climbed on top of the giant meta’s shoulders. Hoping dearly that no one would take a potshot at him—more out of a concern fo
r time than safety—he pressed his hands to his mouth and yelled as loudly as possible.
“EVERYONE STOP!”
To his shock, as much as the surprise of everyone around, it worked. No one had ever tried to call a time-out in a meta-human brawl before, but the strangeness of it was so potent that people actually paid attention. It certainly helped that Fornax and Apollo tearing through the sky had already caused a few of them to split their focus. With no time to dawdle, Johnny capitalized on the moment of hesitation.
“We need to get the hell out of here right now. All of us. Cape, guild, civilian, we need to clear this town like it’s burning, because in about five minutes, it will be.”
“It’s a trick. They’re trying to escape,” yelled a cape from the crowd, one Johnny recognized as Battle Cry.
“No, he’s trying to save us all.” From nearby, a shadow bubbled up from the ground, shifting to reveal the familiar form of Lady Shade. She was clutching her arm in pain and limping with every movement. “Fornax has gone insane. He... he believes the AHC killed his children. When the fight with Apollo is done, he’s going to come for the rest of us, and I’m not sure Fornax will stop there. We need another member of the Champions’ Congress to help or all is lost.”
“Where’s Quorum?” Baron Peppermint hollered. He and Pest Control’s minions were inches away from a brawl, but both armies were paused, waiting on orders from their masters.
“Locked away inside a cell in the AHC, which is sealed inside the dome for at least another hour,” Lady Shade told them. There were more than a few murmurs at such information, many of the capes glaring at Lady Shade with new distrust. “The system is automated because we were running tests, and the sole people who could deactivate it are the members of the Congress, only one of which is inside.”
“Can Apollo last a full hour?” This question came from Glyph, whose wand was halfway through etching a rune of explosive force into the street.