by Lucas Flint
Mastermind didn’t respond to that. Though his face was hidden from me, I could tell I had shocked him into silence.
“But that isn’t what Dad did,” I said. “Genius, that is. He taught me how to fight, but he also taught me how to be a hero. He didn’t see me as a weapon; in fact, Dad didn’t want me to be a superhero at all. He wanted me to live a normal life.”
“Because he was a fool,” said Mastermind. “I was a fool. And it took your death for me to understand that. Genius would have gone down the very same path I did had you died here.”
“No, I don’t think he would have,” I said. “Even if you and Dad are the same person, I think you’re lying. Dad wasn’t a villain. He never had any desire to take over anything. And that’s the difference between a genius and a mastermind; a genius helps people, while a mastermind makes people help him.”
I really didn’t know where all of that came from, but it sure sounded cool, so I didn’t take it back. Besides, it was all true, every word of it. I didn’t understand exactly how things like alternate universes and the like worked, but I believed every word I said nonetheless.
Mastermind was silent. Too silent. He just stood there, like a robot whose batteries had run out.
Then he slowly lowered his head. “I see your choice. I do not agree with it, but I see it. You won’t side with me.”
“Of course not,” I said. “You make a lot of good points about the government, but in the end, you’re no better than them and a hell of a lot worse.”
“If you believe that, then I can see there’s no convincing you,” said Mastermind. “We are enemies, then.”
“Yes, we are,” I said. “Anyway, I’m done talking. You’re going down for good this time. And I don’t even want to know about the Apocalypse Switch; I can hear about that later, if I want.”
I ran at Mastermind. All I needed was one punch in the face and he would crumple like a piece of paper. Dad, after all, hadn’t had super invulnerability when he was alive, so I doubted Mastermind did, either. Even his armor would only absorb some of the impact, but not enough to protect him or keep him conscious.
Mastermind didn’t even try to dodge. He just watched me approach, like he was resigned to his fate. He knew he had lost and he clearly had accepted that fact.
But then Mastermind reached down toward his belt and turned the buckle on it, the buckle I hadn’t even noticed until just now. It looked like Dad’s old Teleportation Buckle, which made me think that Mastermind was going to teleport away to fight again another day.
Instead, a dimensional portal exploded open in between me and Mastermind. It appeared so abruptly that I couldn’t avoid it or stop. I ran straight into the portal and soon found myself in a tunnel of darkness that I couldn’t see through.
In the next instant, I emerged back into the light. I skidded to a stop, blinking rapidly as my eyes adjusted to the sudden light I’d run into. I heard a pop behind me, probably the sound of the portal closing, but until I knew exactly where I was, I didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Finally, after a couple more seconds, my vision cleared and I could see where I was. And I was stunned by what I saw.
I was standing in the middle of Times Square in New York City, full of people bustling about and doing their business. I had been to Times Square loads of times in the past, at least when I lived in New York, so I was very familiar with it. That’s why I was shocked by the statue of Dad rising from the center of it.
No; not a statue of Dad. It was a statue of Mastermind. It looked like one of those old Greek marble statues in terms of detail. He rose dozens of feet above the heads of every person in Times Square, looking down at them all like they were bugs he was about to squish.
And when I looked at the screens on the buildings, I saw nothing but videos of Mastermind playing. Some of them showed Mastermind talking, while others showed him leading armies of robots to attack and conquer cities or clash with other armies.
When I looked around at the people, I realized they were all wearing the same purple and gray uniforms. Men wore purple and gray suits that made them look refined and important, while women wore dresses and skirts with the same colors. Even the little babies in strollers had blankets with the same purple and gray colors.
“Huh?” I said, looking around in surprise. “What … where …”
“You there!” came a voice behind me, harsh and authoritative. “Young man, why are you not in your assigned uniform?”
I looked over my shoulder as a large, burly man who looked kind of like a police officer in gray and purple walked up to me. He was muscular and tall and had a mustache that added to his authoritative appearance. He also carried a weird-looking gun at his side, but I didn’t pay attention to it.
“What?” I said. “What assigned uniform? What are you talking about?”
“Feigning ignorance of the dress protocols established by Lord Mastermind?” said the officer in shock. He pulled out a device that looked like a smartphone and tapped the screen. “That’s a second offense.”
“Second offense?” I repeated. “What the hell’s the first one?”
“Walking around in public without your assigned uniform,” said the officer. “And you just committed a third offense by using curse words in front of a badged officer.”
“Swearing is against the law?” I said. “What are you talking about? Is this kindergarten or something?”
“Cursing is a sign of stupidity and lack of education in an individual,” the officer said, “and since ignorance is a crime in Rationalia, I am going to have to bring you in.”
“You’ll have to catch me first,” I said.
I was about to run, but the officer was quicker. He drew his gun from his holster and fired it.
I expected a bullet to come flying at me, but instead, it was a pellet, which exploded against my chest and created a large cloud of powerless gas in my face. I instinctively inhaled it, which turned out to be a huge mistake, because I immediately felt weak once the gas entered my lungs.
Then the officer slammed the back of my head with his gun and shoved me to the street even as people pointed and shouted. But the officer ignored them as he cuffed my hands together.
“I don’t know who you are, but you are under arrest,” said the officer, speaking so closely to my ear that I could feel the spittle flying from his mouth. “And in accordance with the laws of Rationalia, you will never see the light of day again unless Mastermind pardons you. And that, I can assure you, will never happen.”
TO BE CONTINUED
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BOLT WILL RETURN IN The Superhero’s End, COMING DECEMBER 2016.
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About the Author
Lucas Flint is the pen name that Timothy L. Cerepaka writes superhero novels under. You can find out more by visiting his website here.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
About the Author