For Spike, the past months had been... stressful. He'd been convinced at one point that he was effectively immortal. He could increase and decrease his density to whatever level he wanted, at will; and if someone hit him with something, no matter how powerful, his body would just increase in density to however dense it needed to survive.
He was the only living being that could go toe-to-toe with the meta known as Valkyrie without dying to a single punch. His default weight seemed to be around three or four tons; at which point he could survive a tank shell to the face. The mistake, of course... was that he'd dropped his mass on purpose, so that he could fly more easily on the chopper with his team.
After the incident with Eyeball... he'd refused to do that again. If they wanted to fly him anywhere, no more jets, no more helicopters; they needed a cargo plane that could handle his mass, or his feet stayed on the ground.
The gym at the DMA was mostly empty today. This was a popular hang-out spot; most of the super-strong metas liked to show off, and the assortment of different weights and equipment here could handle everything from hundreds to hundreds of thousands of pounds. In a few hours, he was going to be on a plane to mexico... and he was going to fight for probably days.. there was something relaxing about the simple effort of keeping his mass level, and actually working on his muscles; trying to improve just how strong he was at any given mass rather than just relying on his powers.
Valkyrie had already signed on; the moment the machines crossed the border, either of the US, or of Guatemala, two Titans would be moving in from the north, and another two from the south accompanying the Chinese forces. In theory, nothing could stand in the way of a Titan. He could pick up a tank, break an aircraft carrier in half... even grow so heavy an entire enemy army would be pulled towards his gravity and escape would be useless. But....
They were only four. And the pentagon, as well as the PRA, both agreed that there were probably millions of these machines. Social media reports from Mexico showed that might actually be on the low end. Killing all of them was fully possible. Spike himself could handle it, no problem. The Sun and Moon twins? Same. But... doing so would mean the end of the world.
One of the site security officers; a normal man he'd met many times before, named Terry; had leaned into the gym. He was impressive, for a normal."Heyo, Spike. Just got word from one of the guards at the gate. This short red-head just showed up. Said she was your ex, and she needed to talk before you headed for mexico."
Spike blinked. Desiree? The hell was she doing in DC? "Check her ID and let her in."
"Actually... she wants you to come out. And asked you to bring a Verification agent."
He pulled to his feet, staring at Terry for a moment. "...Okay. Well, I guess I can. Did she say why?"
"Nope. She did say, though, that if you had a cell phone or anything you should leave it here."
***
Desiree was sitting on a bench, out in front of the DMA office, wearing a long black jacket, a red tank-top, jeans... not beautiful, but he'd been in love back when they were both teenagers, and, well. Every girl he'd met since had wanted him for his power. She... had been afraid of it. He'd certainly never expected to see her again.
Spike walked over to the bench, looking her over. Still just as pretty a decade later. Every freckle exactly where he remembered; hell, she'd blossomed from a scrawny teen into a fit, adult woman. Better than when he first met her. "Good god, Diss! Its been years! Mom told me you'd taken up ranching?"
Desiree grimaced at the old nickname; a semi-affectionate blend of her name and a bit of a nickname, Disassemble, she'd had for her terrible luck with cell phones, computers... "Looking good, David. Yeah. Kinda moved off the grid. Had tons of reporters and folks try to ask me about us, what things were like, why I broke it off, back then. And, well. I... still care about you, and hated being reminded."
He'd kinda figured that. Never really had any permanent relationships since. "I... feel the same way. Always did. Why did it take you so long to come back?"
She looked at the pavement... and then up at him. "Did you bring a verification agent?"
"There's one inside, we can go see him if you want. Bobby is... well. He's tired. Went to Texas to interview a death row inmate before they executed him, and aside from having to pass through a few hundred prisoners who wanted to try to trick him somehow, and like half a dozen innocent ones, he had to deal with a whole host of paperwork when it turned out the guy was telling the truth. He never met the girl, and the DA has been trying every trick he could to try to get him executed without a verification interview."
"Wait, the San Antonio Strangler was innocent!? Really? No... look, thats not what this is about." She reached into a pocket of her jacket, and took out an envelope; covered with stamps and markings... international post.
"I got a letter. From Greece. From... well. From Apollo."
Spike stared at the letter. Then at Desiree. "... What, was it some sort of side-step to get hold of me? Why didn't he just call?" As exciting as the idea of a message from a greek god was... well, an immortal, ancient Meta at least... he was a bit disappointed. He'd been hoping, maybe, Desiree wanted to get back together.
"It was for me. I... I'm a meta. Always have been. I... didn't have bad luck with electronics. Or cars. Or computers. When Apollo explained it, it seemed so obvious. If I get emotional, and focus on something... it... goes out. It isn't an EMP, or anything I understand. But... all those jobs I got, where the equipment kept breaking when I got stressed out, the dead cell phones.."
She pulled to her feet, and stepped up to Spike. "You can read the letter if you want. But Apollo said you only had a few years left to live. And that without me, you might not have that long. I figured you were immortal. I could always wait til later."
She took hold of his hands. "I... think that what I can do might come in handy for where you're going. And... that even if I'm not helping, I still want to... be with you... again. While I still can."
As Spike effortlessly lifted her up off the ground, pulling her into a kiss, she held onto him as tightly as she could.. and when he released her, she gasped for breath. "Oh. And... we have to go see someone named Wayson. The letter said you'd know who that was."
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
***
The camp was chaotic. Crazy. There were soldiers, villains, heroes, retirees. Trucks were arriving and being unloaded constantly, before leaving to go get more gear. Eyeball looked out over the military encampment with admiration. This... this was the army he remembered.
Looking down at the area of the people he'd brought to the party... far less organized. A chaotic mess. Some of these people would probably cause untold destruction and wipe out giant swathes of the machine's army... and likely the mexican population as well.
Spirits were high. The word was already out; Valkyrie was on her way.... and Spike would be there by the end of the day. Two Titans. It didn't matter how many machines they were, or how deadly. They had Titans on their side. How could they lose?
Of course, the ones thinking that way weren't thinking of the enormous size of the country they would be fighting in. That even if the Titans killed every machine they came across... they simply couldn't cover a thousand miles, and even if they cleared out an entire city, the machines would probably come back again.
Eyeball didn't really see how this could be stopped... but he'd do his part. He looked out over the assembled villains, the chaotic, party-like atmosphere. They were in the open, surrounded by soldiers; and nobody was getting arrested! Hell, pardons were in the picture for some, reductions of sentences for others, bounties from both Nicky and the Feds; they were all looking forward to a lucrative future.
He stepped over to a truck sitting in the crowded area; an old farm truck not that different from the one they'd driven Penelope to the airport in... and hopped up on it, carrying his rifle with him. "Alright, people! Anybody who wants to come with me when the horns sound, get over here."
He'd replaced his normal rifle, for the moment, with one taken from the Machines; for a specific purpose. Dozens of the villains; armored costumes, creatures with rocky skin, scales, fur... all sorts of variations on top of the more normal, human-looking men and women just wearing outfits and masks.
"Most of you wonder what the hell my power is. What the hell is it this guy can do. And aside from having some really keen senses... maybe a little ESP... maybe some excellent reflexes... I know how to kill anything I see, if it can be killed. I know whether my bullets will bounce off your skin, or put you in the ground. Whether I can put a round through the eye, or need to pump you full of fire and acid."
He lifted up the rifle. "I destroyed a fair number of the machines already. I know how dangerous they are. And this is the rifle they use. If you think you can survive getting shot by the machines, and want to be on the front lines, step forward. I can tell you for sure, one way or another, if that's true, whether one of these rifles can break your armor, pierce the skin, whatever. Spread the word; the more of you survive, the more machines we can kill."
His words substantially reduced the levity of the surrounding men and women; but they eagerly stepped up; and for the next hour, Eyeball went from one to another; it felt... somehow wrong. The advice he was giving these people would make them harder to kill, if he ever went up against them. But... He didn't want to have them all killed by the machines and just die on the spot.
As he was adivising a meta with a metallic sheen to his skin to invest in something to cover his eyes and nose, a shadow appeared beside him... a tall, pale young man wearing a DMA uniform; black armored long-sleeved shirt and pants with their logo on the chest.
He had the rifle aimed at him when he appeared; but he could tell that if he shot him, the man would be hurt, but not killed... and vanish once more. If he actually raised his gun to target the eyes, or somewhere that would be a kill-shot, the man would be gone by the time his barrel was in place.
He speculated a moment as he turned to face the youth. Hmm. If he were fighting him... teleporting. Super durability. Strength? Probably. Would just need to drop a grenade somewhere he was about to teleport. Not someone to take in a stand-up fight, his reflexes were too quick. "And what can I do for the DMA today?"
The teen studied Eyeball's chrome helmet for a moment. "That's a different helmet from last time our people saw you. No LED lights."
"I'm expecting to be hit by an EMP at some point. Smaller HUD, less electronics... tougher armor. Even got an amusing little voice scrambler that doesn't need electronics."
"Hmm. And what does your power say it would take to kill me?"
Eyeball laughed. "Yeah, not going to give that up to the DMA. We might end up fighting each other at some point, if we crush these machines."
"Fair enough. Will the machine's rifle kill me? I'm sure your personal gear is better than that."
Eyeball examined the rifle. His handguns. If he shot anything at all at the kid, he'd teleport... beside him, to the left, and he'd get him with a 40mm grenade to the torso. The kid had a plan for if Eyeball shot at him, and was just waiting for him to act to execute it. Smart.
"Sorry, kid. But if you want advice on surviving gunfire, talk to your bosses. I'm sure they can get you sorted."
The boy shook his head with an exasperated sigh. "Look. Right now we're on the same side. If you could do for the department's Metas what you did for these criminals, we could certainly make it worth your while, and you could still figure out how to kill them after whatever help you give."
"You look a bit young to be able to make that kind of call."
"I'm 22. I stopped aging a few years after my powers kicked in."
Eyeball sighed. "Well, isn't that lucky. Look, kid. I've got money. I've got gear thats better than what your people have. I don't need whatever you're offering, and it'd take something damn impressive to give advice to keep alive exactly the sort of people who might be trying to kill me later."
The boy nodded; and extended his hand. "How about I introduce myself then... Mister Bennet. I'm Jason Hendricks. They call me Fade. My grandfather is the Shadow Master, the one who healed you, when you got a fragment of a tank shell to the head."
Eyeball ignored the hand, just watching him. "Oh. Well, tell him thanks for me, next time you see him. They told me I'd have lived without him, but been in recovery for months, and never quite been the same."
He sighed. "Oh, lord. When he healed you. You came out stronger, tougher, than before you were hurt. Right?"
Eyeball thought back... and shrugged. "Yup. Honestly the healthiest I'd ever been in my life. I went from being fit to... probably olympic level. Might not do a 10-second hundred meter, but I can do a 12-second one."
"My whole family, all of grandfather's brothers and sisters, my cousins, my brothers, can steal... 'life' from one thing, usually plants, animals, sometimes criminals... and give it to someone else, or just hold onto it. I won't give you so much that you're as strong as me or my siblings, but I'd be willing to give you enough that you stopped aging. Or, at least, slowed it to a crawl. Some of my ancestors lived for centuries, plural, before world war two."
"...You'd make me immortal for helping your hero friends with armor advice?"
"I just got out of the academy with these people. I've known them for years. Dated some. Fought others. If you can actually save a few of their lives, I'd consider it worth it. Especially my sister; she can't teleport like I can, but she's drained enough energy that she can probably crush one of these machines with her bare hands but is only bullet-resistant. Besides, it won't make you more dangerous, you kill with bullets, not fists."
Eyeball tilted his head for a moment.. and looked across the field, at the men and women he'd once served beside. "Hmm. You do it for my girlfriend, too, and you've got a deal."
Fade blinked. "Oh. Huh. Is she here?"
"On the way. She's been getting her own armor sorted."
"Well. Tell you what. You help my friends out with this, I'll boost you. You agree not to operate in my town, I'll boost her."
Eyeball shook his head. Imagining a possibly endless future before him. And potentially an endless future with Emma. Fuck. Definitely needed to stop these machines somehow. "I'm in. Boost me first, then I'll help out your people, then you can boost her when she gets here. And just for starters... the only place these rifles can actually kill you, first-shot, are the eyes and the nostrils, or when your mouth is open. You wear some padding and kevlar on that dome, maybe some good armored goggles, and you'll be fine against rifles all day."
Fade gave a low chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. "Good to know. I thought I'd absorbed enough over the years to be pretty well bulletproof. Guess I need to keep going.""