“It was too late. By the time I got to him, he had passed. Tonight has been another tragedy that’ll haunt me. Let’s just go home.” I said.

Aubrey knows better than to say anything. She just nods in agreement. I’m not sure how severe our injuries are. I could have internal bleeding, and she might have a broken arm; we need to see a doctor.

“We shouldn’t go back the way we came. The Cowls over there are stronger and much more dangerous. What I saw was terrifying; they’re both like forces of nature.”

I’ve gotten a lot out of this trip tonight, but there’s more here to take. I was already finding it hard to temper my impulsive excitement chasing, and there’s a chance it’s intensifying with my newly addictive personality. What are the pros and cons of going back to the elemental showdown? Pros: I gain two extremely powerful abilities and two personality pieces. It will also remove them from the board of play. And all that doesn’t even take into account that if I take even a fraction of the money and drugs I’ve seen tonight, I could have the funds for any future plans. Cons: Aubrey and I could die. I am also risking exposure if anyone escapes and tells people about me. It’s such an easy decision; I’m returning there.

“Is there another way out? This place is like a maze, and we might get lost if we aren’t careful,” Aubrey said.

“We’ll have to go slowly and be on the lookout for anything or anyone. But Aubrey, let’s get out of here without any more blood on our hands.”

I’m purposely making digs at her, picking at her flaws in order to make her lash out and then feel compelled to overcompensate in return. Gaslighting and manipulation require both carrot and stick; the carrot is the superpower, and the stick is soon to come.

“You are not the boss of me, Eryk. They got what they deserved,” She responds viciously. Her bloodthirstiness will become a problem if she cannot rein it in.

She is completely letting Davis’ rage control her. It’s pretty good that it transferred with the power. If I still had it, I would’ve snapped at her by now. Her raging around like a petulant child isn’t going to do much besides be an annoyance. I’m not going to bother arguing with her. There’s no possible way she agrees to split up. I will have to lead her back to the fight without her knowing what I’m doing. My fantastic memory means I remember the exact route back to the truck, but Aubrey has always been terrible with directions. She’s the type who never remembers where we park when we go to the mall. The docks are built on a grid-like pattern, so I can easily find a path that happens to take us by the remaining Neuvohumans without her knowing.

I sigh, and the helmet makes it sound so strange. “I’m not trying to be the boss of you. I’m hurt and tired, and I'm sorry if I don’t want to deal with any more death. I don’t want to fight or argue. I want to go home. Follow me; I think I know the way back. ”

Trying to make a steady pace aggravates whatever injury I got from the fall. The pain in my side is a thrum that spikes with every step. I can’t worry about that now. I have to focus on the mental map of the area. I’m adding random turns to try and confuse Aubrey about where we’re going. The last thing I need is her figuring out what I’m doing and freaking out at me. The subterfuge is adding more steps, which equals more irritation to my side. It is a necessary evil to disguise what I’m doing. Thankfully, she doesn’t suspect anything as we silently make our way. I lead her until we’re close enough to hear sounds from the fight.

“What was that? I thought you knew the way?” Aubrey hissed at me.

“I do. I just might’ve made a mistake. Regardless, we can just sneak by them. No one’s going to notice us with everything going on.”

Will she let this slide, or is she going to freak out? I have to toe the line to present myself as unintentionally malicious. It needs to come across as a mistake; I can’t risk her attacking me. Her emotional instability might decide I need to be dealt with next. She doesn’t say anything else, so I continue to lead us closer to the mayhem. She may be slowly learning to control her anger. It should be easier for her than it was for me. I was dealing with a hostile foreign sensation while she’s had over a decade of exercising control of her emotions. I am interested to see what kind of Cape she could become if she gives in to her anger.

We begin to slow down as the battleground grows near. Upon arrival, we crouch behind a dumpster and observe the area. Rather than an all-out gang war, the battlefield has become a place of quiet carnage. Both sides have taken catastrophic losses, and all around are bodies or pieces of bodies. There is a flaming, glowing wound lasered into the concrete. The two limousines are riddled with bulletholes and slowly burning. Pieces of bikes are strewn all over the ground, and the surrounding warehouses are sagging as the brick and steel composing them melt.

At the center is the volcano woman facing off against the lightning man. All the light poles have gone dark; the only light comes from the female Cowl. The man’s earlier coat is nowhere, and his skin is covered in bad burns. She’s unharmed, and the air surrounding their fight is visibly thick and hazy due to the temperature. Does her power cause her to grow hotter the longer she fights? The Korean man, Dynax called him Daeshim, isn’t faring as well as he did before. He was easily dodging the woman’s swings, but now he’s taking glancing blows or grazes that burn and blister his body. If I just sit back, she’ll eventually wear him down enough to kill him. As long as he isn’t completely dead, I can get his electricity power. I can’t see any possible way to handle the obsidian woman beyond an act of God striking her down. I know better than to hope for divine intervention.

“We should attack them. Make them weak enough for them to take each other out, and then we can call the proper authorities,” Aubrey said.

“Are you insane? They are wielding literal elements, and you want to try to fight that? Do you not remember how the last fight we had went? And that was against some street-level thugs.”

Aubrey’s recklessness and willingness to charge into danger eroded my hesitation to get involved. The potential reward is too great to turn down, especially if it’s her idea.

“I’m not saying we charge out there. I’m saying I’ll fire some blasts at them and tip the scales. Then, I can use my last remaining gas canister to take out the other one. I’m strong enough to do this and then run. If you can’t stomach this, you can head back to the truck and wait for me.”

Her plan is insane. Rather, it would be insane to call this a plan. Well, there is a minuscule chance it works; either way, there’s not much for me to lose personally.

“It’s not about stomaching it, Aubrey. I’ll stay hidden, but I'm running away if shit starts going bad. I’m sorry, but I can’t die here. I won’t do that to my dad and Maria.”

Play the girlfriend and widowed father card. It’s foolproof, and Aubrey can’t expect me to die for her dream. This entire fuck up of a night was her idea, and the power of friendship and determination means nothing in the face of Neuvohumans. I wish I could see her face to know if it’s working. Most Capes and Cowls wear some kind of mask; I need to learn how to read people through voice and body language. It is difficult but doable. Yet another task added to the ever-growing list.

She removes her helmet to talk to me. “Yeah, I know. This night has been a complete shitshow due to my lack of planning. I know you wanted nothing to do with this kind of stuff, and I dragged you face-first into danger. I’m sorry, and I won’t ask you again. But if I want to call myself a Cape, I can’t back down at the first Cowl who proves a challenge. The world is dark, and I want to try and be a source of light in it. I know you don’t understand, but I refuse to be meek again in the face of danger.”

What an excellent speech, Aubrey, but it doesn’t mean much in the face of overwhelming might. If she wants to go out in a blaze of glory, it’s her choice. I don’t respond; she’s made her decision, and I could do nothing to change her mind. Using the darkness, I sneak away to hide behind one of the limos closer to my way out. This will be Aubrey’s trial by fire, and one I don’t believe she’ll survive. I’m joined at my vantage point by one of the dead motorcyclists. His helmet has a hole in it, and his white t-shirt is now stained red, with more holes than Swiss cheese. At his side is a pistol. Again my lack of knowledge bites me in the ass. I was never big into video games. I check the magazine, and it’s still full. I guess he didn’t even get to fire a single shot. Unlucky, but I will put your gun to better use.

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Aubrey hasn’t made her move, and the fight continues uninterrupted. Daeshim isn’t firing a bolt of electricity at her, and the energy previously coursing over his muscular frame is nowhere to be found. He is starting to lag behind. His once agile movement is now slower and far less graceful. A jump to the side saves him from getting his head kicked off, but not enough to stop him from getting his leg grabbed. His grunts turn to screams as the lady of lava holds him upside down. What little skin I can see quickly changes to a bright pink as the heat cooks him. You will have to do something soon, my friend. You cannot arrest a dead man.

A bolt of electricity comes from Aubrey and hits Daeshim. Then another and another, she fires fifteen total blasts at him—each one strong enough to kill a man. Aubrey was paying attention when she first arrived here. Daeshim’s ability is obviously based on the manipulation of electricity. He ran out of it. Does that mean he cannot create it, only manipulate it? Or is it just a limited source and it needs to regenerate? She’s trying to power him up. How’d she figure all this out? Is it all a hopeful guess? Her reasoning doesn’t matter; it’s working. Already his body is beginning to glow purple as bits of energy leak out. His screams turn to laughs before he lets off an attack that lights up the darkness. The night lights up like a solar flare, and it’s only my helmet that keeps my eyes from burning. I quickly blink to get rid of the spots. I refuse to miss a second of any of this. The thrill is so potent; it’s almost intoxicating. My eyes are glued, and my heartbeat races as the two powerhouses go at it.

The volcano woman is swinging her arms around, trying to catch Daeshim. She was at the epicenter of his attack. I can’t imagine her eyes faring quite well after it. He’s favoring his right leg, and I can see his left has severe burn damage. The roles are reversed now, and he’s dodging every swing, punch, or kick. Aubrey supercharged him, and now his bolts hit with enough force to knock her back. He’s glowing with so much excess energy and moving faster than before.

“I don’t know who my guardian angel is, but you have my thanks. We can talk about payment later after I kill this giant bitch,” Daeshim yelled.

Daeshim acts with a level of precision that borders on precognition. He snaps up a piece of rebar from the ground, and it glows with a potent electrical charge. He jabs it at her, and she shuffles backward out of its reach. The jab is a feint, and he lets loose a bolt that knocks her onto her butt. He shocks her back onto her ass when she attempts to get up, using the rebar like a wand.

“That’s what you get, you dumb bitch. You fuck with the Dragons, you fuck with Lee Daeshim? YOU FUCK WITH ME AND I FUCK BACK!”

“You talk too fucking much,” the flaming woman said.

She charges him, weaving around the smaller bolts he fires. Daeshim chucks the rebar at her, and she blocks it with her forearm, bouncing it into the air. He lets loose another bolt, but at the rebar instead. The electricity hits it and then angles downward at her. The strike is powerful, and it blasts her backward through a building. Her flaming body leaves behind a molten hole in the wall. Seconds pass, but they feel like minutes. Is it over already? The woman hasn’t made a move or a sound. Is she dead? Aubrey might have done too much; he might be too powerful to take out now.

“You can come out now, my little angel. I’ll thank you face to face,” Daeshim said.

I don’t expect her to go out to greet him. It would be suicide. But is she daring enough to attack him?

“I said you can come out now.” There’s a tinge of anger in his voice. “I’m not a patient man. Do not keep me waiting.”

Smart Aubrey. Keep him agitated and anxious. But then what? How do you capitalize on his anger? Aubrey doesn’t say a thing, and he gets even angrier. Minutes pass, and the electricity all over his body ceases. He closes his eyes and stops moving. What is he doing? Whatever it is can’t be good. I keep hidden in the shadows and slink further away. Something about what he’s doing is triggering alarm bells in my head. This is not good. Daeshim suddenly turns to where Aubrey is hiding.

“Found ya.” Daeshim points his hand at the dumpster she’s hiding behind and fires at it. The dumpster gets blasted away, exposing Aubrey. It is time to prove your determination.

“YOU?” Daeshim’s fury returns in an instant. Before Aubrey can do anything, lightning jumps from Daeshim’s finger and hits her right in the chest. The attack sends her back into a wall headfirst. She falls to her ground, shaking, and I can’t even hear her scream. Her helmet must have short-circuited from the attack. Don’t be dead. I don’t know if I’ll lose the Tinkerer power.

“GIOOOOOO! WHERE ARE YOU? I’VE KILLED YOUR MEN AND BEATEN YOUR WHORES. COME OUT AND DIE,’ Daeshim yells at the top of his lungs.

The volcano woman picks now to come back. She explodes out the side of a building and barrels into him like a truck, rolling him across the road. His body tumbles across the ground until he uses two quick bursts to right himself. Her assault doesn’t end there; she leaps over to him and kicks him in the chest. Daeshim dodges the follow-up strike and resumes shocking her. She ignores his zapping and backhands him. Daeshim’s whole body spins like a top until he uses a few well-timed bolts to halt his momentum. He starts sending out more shocks, using the metal scattered around to attack from odd angles, but she shrugs them off.

She is less of a woman and more of a force of nature. The heat from her is now hot enough to feel it from where I am. Everywhere around her, the asphalt road bubbles and boils like soup. Everything within ten feet of her starts combusting and bursting into flames. My assumption is correct; the longer she fights, the hotter she becomes. She punches him repeatedly in the chest. The concussive sound between rocky knuckles and chest mixes with the noises coming from his sizzling skin. He blasts her in the face again, and she responds with a knee to his abdomen that manages to lift him off the ground. While launched in the air, her large rocky hand grabs him by the leg and slams him down.

“Pathetic,” she said.

“Finally!” Out from behind some wreckage emerges the last living mafioso—a tan-skinned, lanky guy in an Italian suit that’s seen better days. His face is split into a wicked grin with small eyes that are deep set into his face. Clean-shaven but with a large scar across his face, he certainly looks the part. “Put him in the ground where he can’t move. I want to gloat in this smug fucks face.”

The obsidian woman picks up Daeshim and pushes him into a part of the tar that's still smoking. She submerges him in the road up to his waist and elicits another round of what I can only assume are Korean curse words. The mafioso is giggling in glee at the other man’s suffering. And this is probably Gio. He fits the archetype well, delighting in cruelty and reveling in violence. It is a disease. Only monsters find satisfaction in harming others. I do it only when the situation calls for it. Violence is a tool, not a pastime.

“Now cut the flames. I don’t want you burning my suit.”

The flames extinguish, and the obsidian-like skin slowly becomes flesh as the woman shrinks to average human height. What stands there now is an average-looking, muscular, redheaded woman standing beside him. She clearly takes care of herself and works out a lot. Her workout gear transforms with her; she’s a Shifter. She doesn’t look much older than me. Gio casually strolls over to Daeshim and starts wailing at him. He has terrible form and is doing little more than wildly swinging at him. Punches and kicks rain down, all while cackling. He doesn’t stop until his hands are covered in blood. The woman seems bored and like she’d rather be anywhere else. What is her deal? Does she owe him money, or does he have blackmail on her? I cannot fathom a reason why she is listening to him. I don’t know enough about their dynamic or relationship. Information like that would make what I’m about to do less dangerous. I cannot let Gio kill Daeshim, not yet, anyway.

Exiting my cover, I walk toward them. Gio doesn’t have a weapon, and the woman is no longer transformed. I am wearing all black with a faceless helmet. I can’t even guess what I look like to them. I have been thinking about my new face as Eryk, but I will need a face for who I am when I put on the mask. A new identity wholly separated from the student Eryk Blakely. And there is no better time than right now to finalize my Cowl personality—a plethora of options I can emulate: tyrannical, honorable, funny, psychopathic. I think I’ll go the clinical mastermind route: efficient and calculating but not afraid to get my hands dirty.

“Hello, sorry to interrupt, but would you mind not killing that man? I require something from him. You can have him back when I’m done, though.” They both turn and face me, the unknown newcomer. Emerging from the shadows with a voice that sounds like a choir of strangers talking over each other, I confidently approach them. The helmet will let them know I’m a Neuvohuman, and those can be dangerous if you don’t know what they’re capable of. If things get sticky, I have the pistol I’m hiding in my waist. Watching so many detective movies has paid dividends.

“Who the fuck are you? How dare you tell me what to do?” Gio’s upset. Good, that’ll make this even easier. Ignoring him, I make my gamble.

“Lavagirl, you don’t mind, do you?” I asked.

“Lavagirl? Hah, I actually haven’t heard that one before. I honestly don’t care. I got what I wanted already,” she answered, laughing.

Her voice is full and sultry. The glare Gio sends her could freeze hell. I’m right; they’re partners of opportunity or chance. I need to capitalize on the initiative.

“I’m not too familiar with the local scene. So forgive me for not knowing such a powerful Cowl. You said you got what you wanted; what did you come here for? I asked, moving closer to them.

Her smirk lets me know she’s enjoying our back and forth. “I was here to fight him, Lee Daeshim, the Lightning Dragon of the Docks,” she said his title mockingly, complete with air quotes. “He was all talk. Wittle baby thought he was invincible. But the dragon couldn’t handle a little heat.”

“Perfect. Then I’ll be quick.” I responded.

“HELLO? STOP FUCKING IGNORING ME! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?” Gio yelled at me.

“Quiet,” I said, unloading the entire magazine into him.

Gio dies with shock on his face, choking on blood and gasping for air. I toss my gun at him and stand behind Daeshim. My gloves are soaked at this point, so I throw them into one of the fires burning around us. Placing my hand against the only part of his back that isn’t melting, I activate my power. Lavagirl watches me, clearly curious as to what I’m doing. Her face betrays her; I’ve got her hooked. The internal timer ends, and I’ve taken his electricity. Unlike Froggy and Dynax, he gave me an emotion. I can now envy someone. His power alone is worth more than every ability I’ve taken combined. It explains his dodging and how he found Aubrey while she was hiding. I remove my hand and face the woman watching me. The silence lingers between us, and she wants to know what I did.

“You’ve asked me a lot of questions. Now it’s my turn. You with the bumble bee?” She asked.

“Yes and no. She’s part of a project of mine, but she was here for her own reasons,’ I answered.

“What did you do to him? I’m curious since it doesn’t seem like you did anything.”

Remain mysterious but open. “Ah. I’m afraid it’s a secret. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be leaving, miss.”

“One more; who are you?”

I have given a lot of thought to this question. My entire life, I have asked myself the same question. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the reflection of someone who did not exist. If every part of you is fabricated, are you real? Does it even matter? I can mimic how everybody else acts: emotions, expressions, and even the various connections that people have. But as masterfully as I act and emulate, I am not like everybody.

“Me? I am Nobody.”