by Stan Lee
“Steven.”
“Steven. I’ll have to check with Maxwell, but I doubt he cares much about a kid with no powers. He’ll probably just let you go.”
Steven wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or insulted.
“You two…” She gestured at Malik and Nicky. “You’ve violated your terms of employment with Maxwell. Again, it’s up to him, but I’m planning to recommend you be tried for treason in a private military court. If you’re lucky, you won’t be sentenced to death.”
“Very generous,” Malik growled.
“As for this little witch…” Alpha walked up to Josie again. “You threw your weight around with me before, ‘Horse.’ Bad mistake.”
Josie clenched her other fist.
“So there’s no mercy for you.” Alpha circled around her, studying Josie like a laboratory specimen. “I’m gonna make this personal. I’m gonna take it slow. I’m gonna find out all your weaknesses, make sure there’s no way out. Maybe I’ll even pay a little visit to your dad up in AWWWK—”
Steven hadn’t even seen Josie move. But in a heartbeat, the former Horse had slammed Alpha up against the wall and locked an arm across the Vanguard agent’s throat, cutting off Alpha’s breath and pinning him firmly.
“Little too personal,” Josie hissed, grabbing the energy rifle from her captive’s hand.
Malik and Nicky tensed. Beta growled quietly and gestured at the soldiers. They moved toward Josie and Nicky, their energy rifles cocked and glowing.
“Go ahead,” Josie said. “Shoot. Think you can hit me before I blast your boss?”
The soldiers exchanged unsure glances.
Josie cast a look at an opening in the wall, about a meter away from where she stood. She started edging toward it, dragging the protesting Alpha along with her. The soldiers tracked her every move, drawing closer.
She’s trying to escape, Steven thought. But she’ll never make it.
Almost too fast to see, Malik grabbed the nearest soldier’s gun. The soldier, a woman, cried out. Malik twisted the gun around in a practiced motion, thumbed the control to STUN, and fired. A bolt of energy stabbed out of the muzzle, dropping the soldier to the ground.
Two other agents scrambled toward Malik, firing their weapons. He leaped and dodged, squeezed off two shots, and took them both down.
Alpha squirmed and struggled in Josie’s grip. Josie held on tight.
Malik backed up slowly toward Steven, firing his stolen energy gun at the advancing line of Vanguard agents. Beta whirled toward them, raising her weapon. She stalked toward Malik from behind, aiming at the former Ox’s back.
“Guess we’re doin’ that diversion thing,” Nicky said.
He ran forward and leaped onto Beta’s back. The Vanguard agent yelped in surprise. Malik whirled, sized up the situation in an instant, and grabbed Beta’s weapon out of her hand. Nicky started beating on Beta’s head with his bare hands, and together they crashed to the ground.
As Steven watched, the room erupted into chaos. One group of Vanguard soldiers started firing wildly in Malik’s general direction. The rest surrounded Josie, who still held Alpha pressed up against the wall. A distant fury burned in Josie’s eyes.
I should help them, Steven thought. But they’re all trained combat veterans—on both sides. And without my powers…
He saw it again: the face, the wrinkled visage of the old man. It was sharper, more vivid than before. As Steven watched, a multitude of other faces joined it, all staring at him. A large man with tired eyes. A young woman, dark hair upswept in a regal fashion. Soldiers, revolutionaries, politicians, artists.
All long dead, passed away into history. And all part of Steven’s heritage: the legacy of the Tiger.
“Don’t,” they said once again. This time the voices were so loud, they forced him to his knees.
“I must,” he said.
“Don’t,” said the chorus of Tigers. “Do not seek out the power.”
Steven forced the vision away. In the underground cavern, the soldiers had Josie cornered. Malik was backed up against a wall, still picking off soldiers but severely outnumbered. Beta had thrown off Nicky, who was staggering away, dazed.
“I must,” Steven repeated. “I have to get my powers back.” An energy bolt struck the rocky wall, centimeters from his head. “Otherwise we’re all finished!”
Don’t.
Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and concentrated. Tell me, he thought. Tell me where to find the jiānyù.
The chorus in his head fell quiet. His consciousness seemed to expand, taking in the chamber, then the entire mountain. He saw the other team for just a moment, trapped in another of the volcano’s dozens of tunnels. Roxanne lay on the ground, unconscious; Duane and Jasmine were facing off against someone, but he couldn’t see who it was. They need help, he realized.
Tell me where the powers are!
The Tigers seemed to nod, acknowledging his need. Steven felt his mind sinking down, past the level that held Roxanne’s team. Down through more levels of solid rock, past mazelike passages, through pools of superheated magma…
“I know,” he whispered.
He opened his eyes and turned toward the wall. One of the openings, the passageways leading out of the chamber, was close enough to reach. He’d have to avoid drawing the soldiers’ attention, but he knew he could make it.
Nicky and Malik stood together against the wall, facing off against five soldiers. Nicky had picked up one of the fallen soldiers’ energy rifles; he held it up in front of him, squeezing off shots. Alpha twisted in Josie’s grip; Josie kneed him in the stomach.
Steven felt a pang of doubt. He’d run out on Josie and Nicky once before, in the tunnels below Maxwell’s Australian complex. That act, that guilt, had haunted him ever since. Could he leave them again?
“I know!” he cried. “I know where it is!”
Malik and Nicky didn’t answer. Nicky waved his energy rifle in an arc and, with a single blast, dropped one of the guards. Four more stepped into his place, advancing and firing.
They’re completely outnumbered, Steven realized. They won’t survive this battle—unless we get our powers back. And neither will…
An image of Kim appeared in his head. Determined, but frightened. She’s here, he thought. She’s somewhere inside this mountain!
He turned to Josie. “I have to—”
“Kid,” she yelled. “GO!”
He turned and darted into the passageway.
The sounds of battle, the blasts of energy fire and grunts of combat, receded into the distance. And as they faded, the Tigers’ voices rose again in Steven’s mind. Don’t, they said. Don’t do this. Do not seek the Zodiac power.
It will be your doom.
JASMINE LOOKED around the narrow passageway. Mince loomed just ahead, grinning that unbalanced grin of hers, holding up both hands to reveal her deadly rings.
Mince was the immediate threat. There was no way forward until she was dealt with. But several other things cried out for Jasmine’s attention. Duane stood against the wall, his eyes flitting from Mince to Jasmine and back again. Roxanne lay on the floor, making small weak noises.
And then there was the pack on Jasmine’s back. The weapon.
Roxanne whimpered once and went silent. Jasmine glanced at her, alarmed.
Mince gestured at Roxanne’s unmoving form. “Go on,” she said, her tone a mockery of kindness.
Jasmine knelt down, keeping an eye on Mince. The floor felt warm, almost alive. The molten rock of the volcano was supposed to be several kilometers below them, but she swore she could feel it flowing beneath her feet.
She lifted Roxanne’s arm and touched her wrist. A strong, steady pulse beat against Jasmine’s thumb. She rose to her feet, flashing Duane a relieved look.
Mince took a step forward and held up her left hand, the one with LIVE spelled out across the knuckles. “Lucked out,” she said. “But next time…”
Mince’s other fist shot forwa
rd. From one of the rings labeled DIE, a tiny dart flashed through the air. Jasmine ducked one way; Duane dodged the other. The dart whooshed between them and struck the rocky wall with a light clink, then fell to the floor.
“Never know,” Mince said, her grin even wider now. “Ah-ah, brainiac. Touch that screen and I drop you.”
Duane froze. He had been reaching down, surreptitiously, for his tablet computer, which lay discarded on a rock.
Jasmine looked around. We need a diversion, she thought. But Mince is impossible to outwit. She doesn’t act rationally.
“What now?” she asked.
“I haven’t decided.” Mince held up both fists and cast her eyes back and forth: DIE, LIVE, DIE. “I could stun you and leave you here for your friends to find. Or I could let you pass, try and find your friend.” She laughed, a high unpleasant sound. “Or I could just kill you.”
Take this slow, Jasmine thought. Duane stood against the wall, waiting for her to give him a signal.
“Is that what your boss wants?” she asked. “Maxwell?”
“Forget Maxwell.” A flash of anger crossed Mince’s face. “If you want to live, you’ll have to beg me.”
“He’s not really Maxwell anymore, you know. The Dragon has taken him over completely. There’s not a trace of humanity left in him.”
Mince shrugged. “Humanity’s overrated.”
“The Dragon doesn’t care about anyone. I know.” Jasmine paused, remembering. “For a year, I had that power all to myself. The Dragon is…it’s inconceivable, impossible to describe. Like all the fire in the world, burning behind your eyelids. Like a star.”
Mince rolled her eyes. “So what?”
“So now it’s gone. Wrenched out of me by your boss—the walking corpse we call Maxwell.”
Mince walked right up to her and reached out a hand. Jasmine struggled not to pull away as the girl’s fingers, studded with metal, caressed her cheek. DIE swooped in and out of her field of vision.
“Walking corpse,” Mince repeated. “I like you. You’ve got a dark side, Jaz.”
Jasmine flinched at the nickname.
“Oh. Sorry.” A look of mock regret crossed Mince’s face. “Isn’t that what he used to call you? Carlos?”
Jasmine felt as if a dagger had struck her in the heart. She struggled to keep the hurt from showing.
“I know why you’re here. The other reason, I mean.” Mince activated a device on her wrist, and a hologram rose into the air. It showed a bronze sphere, dented and tarnished with age.
“The jiānyù,” she continued. “It’s here, all right. But where? Where, oh where, oh where?”
Jasmine’s pulse quickened. If that thing really is in this complex somewhere, she thought, then the team has a shot at getting their powers back. I’ve gotta keep her talking!
“What do I care?” she asked nonchalantly. “My powers aren’t in it.”
Mince smiled. “Nice try, Jaz. But I think we both know how important this is to you.” She studied the jiānyù’s image, her smile turning to a sneer. “Crude little device. Carlos built this, too, didn’t he?”
This time Jasmine’s face betrayed her. Mince snapped off the hologram and moved in closer, raising an eyebrow. She looked like a cat that had spotted a mouse.
“Carlos,” Mince repeated. “He was a lousy scientist. The Dragon’s much better off with me.” She twisted her face in front of Jasmine’s, like a snake hypnotizing its prey. “How is old Carlos? Still crazy as a bedbug, locked up in some cell with mattresses all over the walls?”
“Shut up,” Jasmine hissed.
“Oooh.” Mince clapped her hands in delight. “I knew you two were close, but…are you kissy close? Do you LOOOOVE him?”
Jasmine clenched her fists, furious. She’d been trying not to think about Carlos the entire mission. It wasn’t hard; she’d been avoiding thinking about things for most of her life. But now…
Don’t, she thought. Don’t let her bait you. Don’t let her win!
“It must suck to be you,” Mince continued. “Are you gonna get married? Word of advice: don’t have any sharp knives at the ceremony.”
That’s it, you little psycho. You’ve crossed the line.
Jasmine turned away, assessing the situation coldly. Roxanne lay unmoving on the floor. Duane stood a meter away, watching.
“Poor Jasmine,” Mince said. “The boy she wants to kiss is a drooling psycho. Poor, poor, poor little Jaz.”
Jasmine put her head down and pretended to cry.
Mince laughed again. “I should kill you!” she said, holding up her DIE hand. “You’d be better off.”
Jasmine shot a glance at Duane, showing him that her eyes were dry. With a small sharp motion, she cocked her head toward Mince.
Hope he gets the idea, she thought.
Duane nodded, an almost imperceptible movement. As he stepped past Jasmine, Mince held up both hands, aiming all her darts at him.
“One more step, kid, and you’ll look like a porcupine.”
Duane held up both hands in a surrender pose, showing that he’d left his tablet behind. “I was just wondering,” he said, “if you knew the story of Mount Merapi.”
“Mount what?” Mince asked.
“Merapi. This volcano.” Duane gestured around at the rocky walls. “The locals call it the Mountain of Fire.”
Mince rolled her eyes. “Duh. It’s a volcano.”
“They believe this mountain was originally situated on the far side of the island,” Duane continued. “But Batara Guru, leader of the gods, was displeased. He wanted the mountain in the middle of the island so the whole place would be balanced out.” Duane flashed a grin. “I think he was a little OCD.”
Mince just stared at him. She jabbed her hands through the air, one after the other, like a boxer: DIE, then LIVE. Then DIE again.
That’s it, Jasmine thought, shrugging the backpack off her shoulders. Keep your eyes on him.
“But two men were already engaged in holy work in the center of the island,” Duane said. “They refused to leave. So in his anger, Batara Guru dumped the mountain right on top of the men.”
Mince stared at him, incredulous. “So. Freaking. What?”
Duane shrugged. “I just thought there might be a lesson there—about ordinary people like you ignoring the forces of nature, trying to use this volcano for something unnatural.” He smiled sheepishly. “The gods could get angry.”
Jasmine reached into the backpack.
Mince marched straight up to Duane. She had to look up to stare him in the eye, but her attitude was mocking, superior.
“There are no gods. No Zodiac powers anymore, either.” She held up her dart-rings. “The only power here is me.”
Duane quivered but held his ground. “They also believe there’s a whole kingdom of ghosts inside the mounta—”
“I think I’ll kill you now,” Mince interrupted, “because of these boring stories. Did you really think they’d make me change my mind?”
“No,” Duane said. “I merely hoped to distract you for a moment.”
“From wha—”
Jasmine lunged toward Mince, grabbing her from behind. Mince whirled, but she was too late. Jasmine reached up and clamped a pair of metal electrodes on Mince’s temples.
Mince swiped out, panicked, with both sets of rings. But Jasmine dodged away and, with one quick motion, fastened a second set of electrodes to her own forehead. A length of cable stretched from the electrodes to a small device in Jasmine’s hand.
“What is this thing?” Mince screamed.
“Something else he created. Carlos.” Jasmine twisted a knob on the device, and it hummed to life. “And for the record: even half-mad, he’s twice the scientist you’ll ever be.”
Mince howled and clawed at her temples. But the electrodes were stuck tight.
“I really don’t want to know what’s inside your head, psycho,” Jasmine said. “But I’ve gotta find out where Kim is.”
Two shar
p tones sounded from the device, indicating that it was ready. Jasmine pressed a button—and the whole chamber vanished. Duane, the smooth walls, even Roxanne’s unconscious form on the floor: all gone.
Jasmine stood in a small dingy room. Paint peeled off the walls; the bed was just a bare mattress, sagging in its frame. A TV with a cracked screen sat on a little table.
A scared feral-looking girl’s face appeared, startling Jasmine. The girl couldn’t have been more than five. She glared at Jasmine with wild eyes.
Mince, Jasmine thought. This is her, when she was a little girl!
“Go away!” the girl screamed. “Leave me alone!”
The face wavered and disappeared. Jasmine found herself back in the real world, in the corridor of the volcano. Duane stood by her side, touching her arm in concern.
Mince flailed at the end of the cables, still linked to the machine. She seemed dazed, blinded, waving her arms around.
“You cried out,” Duane said. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve got to keep her off balance,” Jasmine said, shaking Duane off. “You just watch out for those rings of hers.”
Jasmine concentrated, pouring mental energy into the machine. Her brain impulses traveled down the cables and into the device, which magnified their power and fed them out through the second set of cables.
Mince turned and blinked. She seemed to have realized what was happening, but it was too late. The mind energy struck her straight on; she grabbed her head and arched her back in pain—
—and Jasmine found herself inside Mince’s mindscape again, in the dirty room. But this time two figures, gaunt and angry and tired-looking, stared down at her. A wiry man with cruel eyes and a cringing woman.
“Don’t!” the man yelled at the woman. “Don’t you argue with me!”
Jasmine looked around: Where’s the little girl? And then she realized: I’m the little girl. This is a memory from Mince’s childhood.
The man raised his hand. The woman cowered.
These were her parents.
As the man struck the woman, Jasmine felt a rush of painful emotion. Rage, terror, helplessness. The world exploding, a little girl’s childhood shattered forever.