by Drew Hayes
“Evacuation complete, save for Aether and Jeremiah,” Dispatch announced. “Also, Modus Operandi has confirmed that the signal has been traced to a location approximately thirty miles northeast of Brewster.”
“Then that means we are out of here!” Jeremiah exclaimed. Seconds later, Hexcellent saw him and Aether drop from the middle of the mech’s base, lasers passing through them ineffectually as they headed toward the ground.
“Hexcellent, you are clear for full engagement,” Dispatch said. “There are zero known civilians in the area, so please emphasize expediency over caution.”
“Dispatch, that was an order you really didn’t have to bother giving her,” Titan chuckled. “But good luck, Hexcellent. Everyone will be down here helping out, so tear it apart.”
“We’ll do our best.” She stared at the mech, fending off so many other Heroes that it didn’t even have time to worry about the giant rabbit standing on the sidelines. Maybe it thought they’d been scared away by almost getting shot in the head. Well, they had been scared, but it sure as shit wasn’t away.
“Round two, mother fucker.”
Hopcules barreled forward, and as it did, the costumed warriors parted to let it pass, already waiting for the impending charge. The newly-grown claws hit first, stabbing into the mech’s armored torso with some difficulty. It was a sturdy bastard, Hexcellent had to admit that much, but the holes Eli disintegrated had weakened the structural integrity by a fair bit. Hopcules jerked upward and managed to shred through a chunk of the torso, exposing the gears and circuitry within.
An arm came whirling around, ready to try and put a hole in the mech’s attacker, but this time she and Hopcules were ready for it. Twisting his head, Hopcules opened his mouth wide and bit down on the metal appendage with his mighty buck teeth. Before the mech could struggle free, the smell of melting metal lit the air as Hopcules finally was able to put his fire breath to use. Half of the arm clattered to the concrete, torn off by the combination of heat and strong jaws.
The mech tried to retreat, but Hopcules wasn’t having any of that. Using the claws embedded in its torso, the giant rabbit lifted the mech upward until it was horizontal in the sky. Its arms whipped about, trying to line up a shot while the remaining legs kicked about futilely. Still, Hexcellent waited to give the order. If she wanted this to work, they had to wait for the perfect moment.
For a long, beautiful instant, the mech hung there, suspended by Hopcules’s powerful arms. Then, at last, she saw it start to slide down the rabbit’s claws at the same time she felt his shoulders begin to shake. The mech was turning up its weight again, trying to make them let go. She almost felt sorry for the mechanical monster; if only it had worked in a few wrestling games instead of all RTS, it might have seen what she was going for.
“Time for the Back-Breaker, bitch-bot!” Hexcellent yelled, and on cue, Hopcules slammed the mech downward. Not to the ground, where it would have cracked and dented but perhaps still survived, but directly on top of the rabbit’s planted knee, where an armored spike happened to be pointing up to the sky. The mech came slamming down, one clawed paw on either side of the knee, pushing with all their might. If it had still been lighter, it might have endured; however, turning up the weight of its body cut both ways.
The mech cracked in half, its weakened torso unable to withstand the combination of weight and muscle that split it down the center of its chest. As soon as its pieces hit the ground, the other Heroes were ready, smashing through the remains or turning them to scraps from afar with ranged powers. No one was taking any chances of this thing getting back up. Hopcules even stomped on the remaining legs, turning them into little more than gleaming silver shards.
“You know, there are a lot of things I don’t like about this job. Moments like this are not among them,” Jeremiah commented.
“No shit. I need a cigarette after watching that,” Aether added.
“You did good, Hexcellent,” Titan told her. “A hell of a job. Now we’ve got to go make the most of what you did and finish things off. Are you going to be okay on your own from here?”
Hexcellent stood atop her giant rabbit summon and looked down of the smoldering wreckage of a monster that she’d bested, yet who hours ago had seemed completely unstoppable.
“I’ll be fine, Titan. I just killed a giant robot; right now I am outright fan-fucking-tastic.”
From her perch so high up, it was hard to make out Titan as he grouped up with the others, but Hexcellent was almost positive she caught sight of a smile on his face just before his voice came through the comms.
“You’re damn right you are.”
117.
Northeast of Brewster was a whole lot of nothing, at least as far as Titan was concerned. Some folks enjoyed the loping hills and quasi-mountains, good for hiking and camping and not much else. Despite his rough and tumble appearance, though, Owen Daniels had always preferred life in a city to the more outdoorsy world. Visiting his wife’s family in the south had been his only real exposure to the country, and when he’d fled to start his bar, he’d at least picked a place somewhat near civilization. Their enemy’s location didn’t surprise him or any of the others. An operation of such vast size, the base had to be hidden out in nowhere; otherwise they’d have found it and put this whole thing to bed ages ago.
“This is the closest point I had,” Relocate informed them. A teleporter who worked out of Port Valins, he had luckily done an internship in Brewster and had been able to see much of the town. There was no reason for him to have gone so far out in the boonies, though; even a teleporter’s encouragement to travel had limits. A few freelance teleporters had been nearby, but they weren’t likely to get the team any closer. Besides, Titan never liked taking those types to sensitive areas. DVA-certified transportation resources or not, he preferred to stick with Heroes when things were getting serious.
“We appreciate your help,” Jeremiah told Relocate. “It’s a few more miles from here, something Gale can easily handle. I’m sure you need to get back to the rescue efforts.”
“The requests are already flooding in.” Relocate tapped his right ear where Dispatch was no doubt alerting him to the dozens of civilians in need of saving. The robot threat might be suppressed, but the damage they had done had left countless people trapped or in danger. Every Hero that could be spared was pitching in to help, along with emergency services and dozens of PEERS teams. “If you need to make a quick getaway, I can meet you here. Otherwise, there might be a wait for me to get back.”
“This isn’t a team that plans on running,” Gale told him.
“I didn’t expect as much, but it seemed polite to offer.” Relocate took one last look at his surroundings, refreshing his memory to make the trip back easier, and vanished in a shimmer of static.
“Gale, if you could follow my heading,” Jeremiah said, stepping to the front. “There might be defenses out here: the nearer we get to the signal source the greater chance of that, so everyone be on guard. Aether, be ready to shift Gale and Deadlift if we come under fire.”
“What about you?” Aether didn’t bother asking about Titan, because the answer was obvious: he didn’t need to be intangible. The very best those robots had thrown at him didn’t leave as much as a mark on anything other than his suit. The bots were strong, but Titan had fought stronger.
“I’ll be fine,” Jeremiah assured her. “Worry about these two. Although, Gale, do your powers work when you’re intangible?”
“Never had occasion to find out,” Gale said. “Guess today’s a good chance to learn.”
Deadlift let out a soft groan. “Let’s not tempt fate. Hopefully we’ll make it to the signal without needing to take evasive actions.”
“Hope in one hand, spit in the other. . .” Jeremiah didn’t bother finishing the saying, instead listening attentively to a voice coming through his comm.
As he sat silent, Gale took the opportunity to whip up a whirlwind, raising them all from the ground. Jeremiah wa
s in the front, since he’d be pointing the way, with Deadlift and Gale on either side of Aether so she could reach them. Titan was in the rear, a hardy shield in case something tried to come at them from behind.
“That way,” Jeremiah said finally, gesturing out toward a hill overgrown with lush green trees. “Based on the topography my people are looking at, we’ll pass over two hills and a small lake before we get to the right area.”
With no more than the point of a finger they were off, tearing through the sky at breakneck speeds. Though she was doing a good job staying controlled, Titan could nearly feel the rage coming from Gale. He liked Brewster, but to him it was just a city. To her, however, it was a place of incredible importance. It was where her team had been based for decades, where the legacy of Elemental Fury took root. More than that, she’d lived there for years; she knew the city and the people in it intimately. This attack hadn’t just been horrific for her on a human level, it had hit her personally. When they found whoever was responsible for it, Titan knew he was going to have to move fast. If the culprit wasn’t captured quickly, Gale might do something she would ultimately live to regret. Killing was never easy, and if it was done without need she’d be weighed down by that sin for the rest of her life.
The ground below them flew by. In no time they were zipping past the lake Jeremiah had described. He motioned for Gale to begin their descent. Near as Titan could tell, there was nothing that marked the area they were heading for as noteworthy, just a small ravine and more hills full of trees. Of course, if the base could be seen from the sky, they wouldn’t have needed to use such extreme tracking methods in the first place. Slowly, following Jeremiah’s directions, Gale brought them down, past the lip of the ravine, deeper into the crevice where the late-afternoon sun could scarcely reach. At last, Titan felt the familiar sensation of earth beneath his feet.
It turned out that the ravine was deeper than he’d perceived from the sky, a narrow slice in the land that felt like two walls looming over them. Thankfully, Hero gear didn’t lose signal easily. Jeremiah began trekking across the rocky terrain, following the guidance of his unseen team. The more Titan watched Modus Operandi accomplish, the more curious he was about the other members. It wasn’t unheard of for Subtlety Heroes to buck the spotlight, but a whole team represented by one Hero seemed peculiar. Then again, they were bound to be making all manner of enemies, given how efficient they were, and Subtlety Heroes often weren’t known for their combat skills. Maybe putting up one lone giant target to go after made sense, assuming Jeremiah could handle the burden.
“We’re getting close,” Jeremiah called, waving for them to follow. “The signal is coming from nearby, and my team says this is the most likely point to have an entrance. If we don’t find one, then I’m going to need Aether to do some intangible recon through the rock, and then Titan can bust open-”
Before Jeremiah could finish his plan, he took one step too far, and what seemed to be nothing more than a clump of rocks suddenly sprang to life. It whirred and clicked, whipping around and locking the barrel of its laser gun directly on Jeremiah. Titan started running as soon as he saw the motion, but he wasn’t nearly fast enough. The sound of a high-pitched whine filled the air, then a flash of red shot from the barrel. After that, there was only Titan’s thundering footsteps and the soft slump of a body hitting the ground.
The hole in Jeremiah’s chest where his heart should be was still smoking, the horrid smell of roasting flesh wafting through the air.
118.
The gun was nothing more than scrap metal after two of Titan’s blows, both of which were far stronger than were strictly necessary. Though he hadn’t yet turned to make the confirmation, he knew what he’d witnessed while dashing over. Jeremiah was dead. Whatever enhanced endurance he might have had wasn’t enough to withstand the laser blast. A hole in the chest was enough to kill pretty much anything, even a Super.
With the remains of the laser throwing off sparks, Titan turned to find the others clustered around Jeremiah, whose blood was soaking into the rocks. No doubt about it: he was dead, likely had been before he hit the ground. Aether’s face was pale, and Deadlift seemed to be sniffling under his mask; the poor kid probably hadn’t lost too many friends in the field yet. Much as Titan wanted to mourn the loss of a comrade—a loss hitting Titan harder than he’d expected—Jeremiah’s death meant nothing if they didn’t finished the job.
“We need to-” Titan’s words died on his tongue as Jeremiah’s pooling blood suddenly halted, then began to flow back into his blown apart torso. As it did, the burned out chunks of flesh lengthened and bones regrew. The whole process took perhaps five seconds, but when it was done, Jeremiah’s body bore no sign of any injury whatsoever. If that alone wasn’t disturbing enough, the sound of a rough cough escaped the fallen Hero’s lips, and he shook his head as if coming out of a long nap.
“What the fuck!” Aether screeched, turning insubstantial and leaping backward. Even for people who dealt with superhuman abilities, someone coming back from the dead was a bit much. Gale and Deadlift both took defensive postures as well; bracing for attack was their default reaction in strange situations.
“Sorry about that,” Jeremiah said, voice as calm as if he hadn’t just had his heart hollowed out seconds earlier. “Little inconvenient, I know, but at least now we know to be on guard for traps.”
“You were dead.” Titan looked around for any proof of the injury, splatters of blood or flecks of bone, yet there was no sign of it aside from the hole in Jeremiah’s shirt. Even the blood stains on the rocks were gone. “This. . . this is impossible. What you just did goes way beyond regeneration. This is time manipulation.”
“Come on, if I was the first Super to travel through time, you don’t think I’d work on a slightly grander scale than running a team of Subtlety Heroes?” Jeremiah slowly pulled himself to his feet and gestured over to the broken wreckage of the gun that had slain him. “Besides, if I never got shot, then you never would have beaten that device halfway to electronic hell. Appreciate that, by the way.”
“Jeremiah, we all just watched you die. Regeneration can’t fix death. Do you really expect us to just let this pass with no explanation?” Gale’s eyes were narrowed, her emotions torn between relief and uncertainty of what to make of such a display.
“At the very least, we need to know how much damage you can come back from before we go any further.” Deadlift thrust a thumb down the ravine, where logic said there were no doubt more traps lying in wait for them. “Not to be a dick about it, but knowing what actually kills you tells us who we should prioritize helping if things turn to shit without warning.”
Jeremiah turned the argument around a few times before evidently landing on agreement with the point. “Very well, but I’m only giving you all the cursory overview. As a Subtlety Hero, I know far too well how important it is to have a few secrets kept close to the vest, especially about weaknesses. The long and short of it is that my body doesn’t regenerate, technically. It’s more apt to say that I lock my physical form in at a certain time, and my ability maintains that status quo no matter what happens.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Aether had largely recovered from her outburst, though she was still giving Jeremiah a wary eye as he explained. No one, least of all Jeremiah, blamed her for the caution. Seeing a corpse pull itself back together was unsettling on a lot of levels.
“It means I pick a day when I’m exactly where I want to be. Fit, strong, energetic, and without any aches or pains. Then I activate my power. And until I turn it off, that’s my body, regardless of outside forces like giant robots or laser cannons-”
“Or time?” It was Titan who interrupted, realizing exactly what Jeremiah was describing. Immortality. Maybe not perfect: if he was keeping secrets then there was bound to be a flaw or two in the ability. No power was unbeatable. Yet if he really did lock his body like he was describing, it meant aging wasn’t something he had to fear.
Th
e wide grin on Jeremiah’s face answered before he formed the first syllable of his glib reply. “I haven’t had enough years to say for certain yet, but by all accounts going forward, I’m going to look extremely good for my age, whatever that might be. Though at the rate I’m mowing through uniforms, I’ll have a huge clothing bill and a lot of unpleasant death memories.”
“Wait, do you remember dying from the laser?” Gale asked.
“I remember everything that happens to me before the power gets triggered,” Jeremiah told her. “That’s the drawback to my ability; I can recall every single time my life has ended, and let me tell you, those memories are not sunshine and rainbows. Still, it’s the gift I have, so I make the most of it.”
“And it sounds like a hell of a good one, but I think it’s about time we started using my power.” Titan turned toward the direction the laser gun had sprung up from. “Everyone, stay here. I’m going to see if there are any more traps waiting.”
He began jogging forward, through the ravine’s narrow walls. Within the first few steps, another gun burst forth from the rocks, firing directly at Titan’s torso. The burning energy hit his already-exposed flesh. It fizzled uselessly just before Titan returned the blow, his force leaving only shattered scrap behind. A few more feet and another gun appeared, quickly meeting the same fate. Further in and an explosion from the ground tried to blow off his leg, succeeding only in tearing up his boot. Titan continued on, undeterred. Seeing a friend die, even if only for a few moments, had been just the kick in the ass he needed to remind him of his role in situations like this. It had been a long time since Titan was doing real Hero work, but with each step forward, it was coming back to him. His place was at the front, taking on every attack the enemy could throw, making sure his team stayed safe.
Titan would stand against the full assault, and only when it was spent would he call the others to follow. That was what it meant to be a team’s shield.