It was the start of the week. A few hours into it, in fact. Inside a peculiar room, at a strange time, stood an unusual group of three who have no business having any relation to each other.
The three, despite their differences, sported similar expressions, felt similar emotions, as they all stared, wide-eyed. Moments of silence settled in the cold dank air of the Scrapper’s hideout, their gazes fixed on the mass of cancerous flesh and rusted metal.
A thing.
A weird, disgusting, and creepy thing.
It didn’t writhe, nor did it even wiggle. It didn’t do anything at all. It just lay dead amidst broken machinery.
Yet, up all their spines a chill came and went. A shared thought wormed its way into their minds. Morbid curiosity, the curse that blighted mankind throughout history, practically forced the vivid imagery into their mind’s eye— the wriggling.
They imagined it moving.
After hour-stretched seconds passed, one of the three shattered the icy silence that hung in the gel-like atmosphere.
“It’s a hatchling,” the hero donning a gold and white mask muttered unmuffled and unquietened.
Calvin’s pale blue eyes tore itself away from the sight and gave a passing glance to the hero, a questionable doubt shining through his irises before getting magnetized once more by the dead 'hatchling’.
The word used to name it wasn’t foreign to him, he'd encountered it multiple times, but the thing itself was.
“It’s disgusting,” he commented, having nothing else to say. Partly due to his ignorance. His head turned to the hero, yet his eyes remained at the monster, “It’s a hatchling?”
“It’s a hatchling,” Lightspeed repeated with the surety of experience. “Or something related to it.”
“Did you know about this?” The third of their group, the rescued ex-terrorist, turned towards the hero with vitriol dripping from her glare. She grabbed his sleeve and pulled him closer, “Did you fucking know about this?!”
Lightspeed’s turned to her, his head looking down briefly at the grip she had on his sleeve before looking back towards her face. A second later, his mask blurred for a brief moment before it disappeared, revealing his punchably handsome but undoubtedly disturbed face.
His deep blue gaze fell down Batty, sporting a complicated light within, before he let out a sigh and an almost hesitant shake of the head, “no. Of course not.”
Batty looked him up and down, brows furrowing deeper by the second, before pushing the hero away and stepping back, "Don't you fucking lie to me, cape. I know Vanguard has more than a few of these forsaken fucking things, okay? I know because I was there. I read those fucking reports,” she ignored the change in Lightspeed’s expression, continuing her accusation “you’re telling me you had no idea about this? About a fucking hatchling inside this?”
His eyes narrowed at her, but the topic stayed despite his need to question her, “I have no idea what you're talking about. We don’t have any of these— things.”
“Yeah?” She scoffed, her fanged smile turned askew. “Your name was on one of those reports, fucker. More than twenty found. You, your partner, and that nightmarish fucker.”
“My name is on there because I infiltrated and helped liberate— he knows,” he gestured to Calvin who jolted from the sudden attention, “he was there. He escaped from one of these machines.”
Batty turned towards Calvin, her eyes softening in a way that he couldn’t understand.
He flinched at the attention, looking between the two of them for a moment as he tried to process the earlier conversation. After a second, he caught up, nodding to Batty with affirmation.
“You’re proving my point, genius.” She said, a bit less angry but still accusingly.
“And I told you already, the ones I’m aware of were buried. That facility? The one he was in? It’s under kilometers of rock already,” he put his hands on the broken machine, leather and metal screaming as his gloved grip tightened against the gold-plated edge, “it was the day after. We were… securing the perimeter, fully sweeping the place, when the entire lab got swallowed by the ground. There was no explosion, no shaking, just the ground suddenly melting and taking everything with it.”
Calvin paused at his words, gulping spit after processing the hero's recollection.
It was a day after his escape, so he might've gotten lucky. But still, there was a non-zero chance he'd have reincarnated inside the pod, underneath the world's crust.
Unknown mechanics of his reincarnation aside, he felt his stomach drop at the idea.
“Destructoman managed to get a few people out— but he’s one man. He’s not specialized for rescue,” he continued with a somber face, “it’s still a few hundred people. Staff, goons, policemen— everyone left inside.”
Calvin saw Batty’s confused expression and frowned, “No one knew about this?”
He shook his head, “It was better to keep a lid on it.”
“How heroic,” Batty scoffed.
“Why?” Calvin was confused.
He looked at him and sighed, “It’s just better.”
His eyes narrowed at the man. The answer was somewhat annoying, but it would be pointless to keep pushing. Instead, he moved to the other obvious question in his head, “ever heard of shovels?”
“Kilometers, Calvin,” he stood back straight and crossed his arms, “we don’t know where it is. We don’t know if it stopped sinking, or if someone else found it. Not even Mason could find it,” he looked towards Batty, “so nothing came back. No machine, no bodies.”
She stood quiet for a moment, looking down and tapping her foot in solemn contemplation. Her gaze landed back to the hero a moment later, wrath softened but still dancing in them, “There’s still the others. Reports about the same machines taken into your 'custody’.”
“And those don’t have my name on it, do they? They don’t tell me everything,” he admitted annoyedly, “whatever perception of importance or authority you think I have, I guarantee it’s magnitudes lower than it actually is. I’ve been a fourth-class for less than a year. I don’t know everything.”
Batty looked back at the dead hatchling, leaning and gripping the machine like Lightspeed did before kicking it with a curse, “Fuck! Fucking batshit… you know what this means, right?”
“Right,” he nodded, opening his watch before starting to take pictures.
“Left,” Calvin muttered, looking between the two. “What does it mean, exactly?”
The two looked at Calvin, brows similarly scrunched in dissimilar fashions.
“I’m sorry, was that rhetorical or something? What’s with the judgemental stares?” He rolled his eyes.
Batty let out a sigh, tapping her finger on the broken console before batting a question towards him, “You know what hatchlings are, right?”
“I'm not that ignorant,” he said, staring at her with half-open eyes.
“So you know no hatchling is the same,” Lightspeed took over, “what do you think it means if a machine like this, which is one of many other machines, has a hatchling inside?”
“What do I— is this a fucking quiz? Why can’t you just—”
“Just stop being snarky and use your brain for a second.”
His eyes narrowed at the hero. Nevertheless, he relented and thought about it. His eyes landed towards the machine and the creature, trying to connect the figurative dots he pinned in the back of his head.
'Multiple machines, multiple hatchlings… and it’s probably how it can suck powers out. But that doesn’t feel like the reason why they were shaken up. This thing can be killed… easily at that. So why…’ his eyes widened as something clicked in his head. “They’re making hatchlings?”
Lightspeed nodded, the corner of his mouth raising almost imperceptibly, “Maybe, but not just that. Making hatchlings is the easy part. All it takes is a normal person, a general lack of morality, some pain and suffering, and a dash of luck.”
“What’s the hard part?” He asked.
“Making the same exact hatchling. Consistently.”
Calvin’s brows raised as he understood the implication, “no hatchling is the same.”
“Jackpot,” he nodded.
“Even in the best case,” Batty cut in, “which is that this… thing is just a hatchlette, then—”
“—hatchlettes are spawns of brood-type hatchlings—,” the 'teacher’ explained.
'There are types now?’ Calvin groaned, his homework growing.
Batty shot him an annoyed glare before continuing, “—then that means they found a way to control one. And if they can control one, then what about others? What about the others out there.”
“Like that fucking deer,” Lightspeed murmured, looking upwards.
Calvin watched the hero’s eyes turn a dangerous glint for a second before returning to their usual apathy, looking back at the dead hatchling.
'The deer… I remember Ina telling me about it. Throws giant fireballs at cities. If they can control something like that…’ “Fucking batshit.”
“Exactly,” Batty gave an affirming scoff before addressing the hero again, “and exactly why I don’t believe Vanguard doesn’t have a machine. Or that they have no idea what’s inside them—”, she raised a finger as Lightspeed was about to speak, “—I might believe you have no idea, but them? Bullshit. They’re probably tearing it apart and finding out how it works so they can use it against us.”
Lightspeed fought her glare with his own, “They’re not.”
She smirked, “they don’t tell you everything, right?”
While the two started another staring contest, Calvin was having his own against the dead Hatchling.
'This thing sucks out powers… but are powers really the only thing it sucks out? How come people die when they get their powers taken? What if it takes more…’ He paused his dangerous train of thought. 'Conspiracy theories later, escape for now.’
He forcefully pinned the thought for later as he continued to observe the dead hatchling. Or hatchlette.
'Ina almost became this if I wasn’t able to—’ “Wait a minute,” he murmured, a thought coming to him.
His fingers were faster than his common sense, as before he even started thinking thoroughly they raced to poke the creature.
A wet squelch made his eye twitch, but the revolting feeling of disgust was immediately replaced by one of surprise.
Super Absorb
Super Power: Astral Pulse detected. Absorb? Yes No
Super Absorb
Super Power: Intangible Channel detected. Absorb? Yes No
Super Absorb
Super Power: Empathic Pull detected. Absorb? Yes No
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
'There’s three?’ He nearly let out a sound as he read the panels. 'Astral… pulse and— what are these powers? Are these what it uses to suck powers out? Then, what if I… no.’
He pulled his finger back, making the panels disappear and the temptation along with it.
'No, it’s three powers. I don’t know if I have the points for that,’ he summoned his Super Information screen.
Super Information
Super Name None Super Attributes Super Status Alive, Spirit-severance, Slight Fatigue(Spirit, Mind, Body), Sleep-Deprivation, Promise Stone Super Body 2 (+1 Plain White Shirt) (+0.3 Promise Stone)
Super Quest Road to Heroism IV, A True Hero's Name, An Unknown Power Super Mind 2 (+0.3 Promise Stone) Super Points 4
Super Spirit 3 (-0.3 Spirit-severance) (+0.3 Promise Stone)
Super Powers
Impervious Pebble Gourmand's Insight Color Control Jumper Vigilant Aegis Unknown
'Four extra points… and my Super Spirit has three. Levelling it up is going to eat the same amount of points, so I can only level it up once. I can’t exactly experiment how much improvement it gives my not-exploding-limit, so I need to be prudent,’ he thought for a moment before feeling tempted, 'one power. Just one power, maybe I can figure out the rest?’
“What are you doing?” He was about to touch it again when a voice brought him back. Lightspeed and Batty were looking towards him with curious faces.
“Nothing,” he murmured, completely forgetting they existed.
“Don’t touch it. It might be dead, but we have no idea if it can still affect people,” Lightspeed warned.
“Right,” he nodded. “No touching.”
He pushed himself away from the machine, taking a few steps back just in case he got tempted to try again.
'Just getting one probably wouldn’t have worked anyway. It’s probably a combination of the three that makes the power-sucking possible… and there’s no guarantee I could replicate it. At worst, I’d end up with three shit powers.’ He thought to himself, trying to dissuade his inner goblin from suddenly poking it again and absorbing everything. 'A good power. Maybe lightning powers... ugh, be patient.’
He's been seeing the panel multiple times now, and it's been getting harder and harder to resist the temptation of just pressing yes to the next power that pops up.
'It's literally the annoying 'item weight' mechanic,’ he grumbled internally before trying to distract himself with reality, “So, what now?”
“Now,” Lightspeed spoke while putting his hand on the machine, making it disappear into his pocket while simultaneously putting his mask back on. “We leave.”
Calvin’s brows furrowed as he stared at where the machine was.
Sensing Calvin’s confusion, Batty explained briefly, “Pocketproofing doesn’t work on broken things.”
“How does it know?” He asked.
“Learn about it in the Academy,” Lightspeed said, “we need to head upstairs to the exit.”
“Wait, what about the other kidnapped people?”
“As much as I want to rescue them, this takes precedence,” he explained emotionlessly, “we’re outnumbered and likely outgunned. We’re literally inside their home. Getting out and getting proper backup is our first priority.”
“And as much as I don’t want to, I agree with him,” Batty said, “but, we go downstairs first. Disable the lockdown.”
“What? How’d you know?”
There was a significant lack of clues in the surroundings that could lead to thinking that there was a lockdown. No alarm trying to deafen him with high-pitched noises, no automated messages in neon colours flashing on the walls, no red or orange light blinking and causing aneurisms— there wasn’t even a toilet-paper shortage.
“What kind?” Lightspeed asked without pause.
“The 'Empress-is-coming-to-kill-us-all’ kind,” she answered with a tone of frankness.
“No exits?”
“Not yet.”
“Then we need to go downstairs.”
“That’s what I said,” she rolled her eyes.
“We can’t go through the entrance—”, he paused and smirked, noticing Calvin’s completely lost and annoyed gaze. He held two fingers up and explained simply, “two types of lockdowns, one where you don’t want anyone in and one where you don’t want anyone out. Obviously, it’s the first one. Normally, that means getting it is relatively easier than getting in, but—”
“But blocking the 'door’ from the inside is useless against Empress. So the usual contingency is usually to hide the door,” Batty raised a finger before Calvin could ask, “It’s a subspace— hiding the door is the same as simply making the door not a door.”
His gaze wandered back and forth between the two, “but where is the door?”
“At the top— didn’t you break into this place?” Batty’s brows furrowed.
“In a way?”
“He got kidnapped.”
“What?!”
“I... uh... let myself be spatially displaced, by a third-party.”
Lightspeed scoffed at his words.
“Consensually— well, not really, but kinda. But there’s a difference from getting actually kidnapped,” he then looked to the hero, “still didn’t go through the front door, but you did, right?”
He chuckled, “Not exactly. I followed the guy that nabbed you.”
“And you just let that happen?” Batty asked with a frown.
“He looked like he had a plan.”
“Of course I did.”
“It was a shit plan.”
“It worked,” Calvin said with a huff. “Then how’d you get here?”
“Temporary portal system,” Lightspeed answered, “looks like they’ve been set-up long before. They ported directly into this place and then destroyed the portals.”
Batty scratched her chin, “Any chance some of them are still working?”
“Wouldn’t be talking about this if there was,” he looked towards Calvin, “and it was shit. You had a plan getting in, but not out. Always make sure you have an out, even if it’s only for yourself.”
“How heroic,” Batty repeated.
“We can’t always save everyone,” he said unapologetically, “so, downstairs?”
“Right, there’s a— fuck,” she looked at her wrist, frowning immediately, “they took my watch.”
'Oh right, I should’ve grabbed that,’ Calvin pursed his lips. 'Then again, it’s probably been covered and dusted by an unimaginable amount of drugs and diseases. Probably.’
Lightspeed glanced at her empty arm, “What was on it?”
“A map,” she spoke with a sigh. Not a second later, her eyes widened as he looked towards the kid in the group, “wait, Calvin.”
Already ahead of her, Calvin had raised his own watch and tapped open one of the files she sent, “This one?”
“That!” She nodded excitedly, grabbing his arm and pulling it to the centre of the group.
“Those are subspace plans… how did you get that? Where did you get that?”
“I do this for a living,” she spoke with a little pride. “Anyway, look at this.”
Her fingers moved like Lightspeed’s as she started tapping away on Calvin’s watch, manipulating itss display to make the holographic blueprint floating on top bigger and more detailed. Another few taps later, and the display became three-dimensional, a function Calvin had no idea his watch had.
Twelve floors, or layers, shaped like a tomb fit for a pharaoh or a cake fit for a fatass. It was larger than Calvin thought, despite already having scoured some of the rooms.
Batty’s gloved finger pointed towards the second floor, or the -11th floor, making a large red dot appear on it, “We are here, and the control room is—”, she pointed towards the center of the lowest floor, “—here.”
“So, downstairs. Literally just downstairs.”
“That’s what I said.”
“It’s not going to be just downstairs, is it?” The hero asked rhetorically, accompanied with a sigh and a crossing of the arms, “never is.”
“No, it actually is,” Batty’s smile tilted as she gave him a glance, “haven’t you noticed? We’ve been here for so long but not a single person’s been checking up on the morons you two smacked around outside. Why do you think no one comes here?”
“I don’t know, it’s chilly?” Calvin shrugged, not wanting to overwork his brain anymore.
“No one’s normally allowed to be here,” she pointed towards half of the lower floors, from the ones labelled 'holding’ to the last floor, “except for a few people. So lifting the lockdown is going to be a simple stroll to the room, maybe taking out a guard or two, and pressing a button.”
“My 'but’ senses are tingling again.”
“But they’re not allowed for a reason,” Lightspeed finished the thought. “What? Turrets? Traps? Bombs?”
“Well—”
She tapped on Calvin’s watch, swiping to the next image. It was the blueprint for the prototype of the golden beetle. Except, this time, in 3D.
“—all of the above. And probably a little bit more.”
----------------------------------------
The sound of synthetic fibres flexing and stretching against her bare arm made Alicia grit her teeth as she gave up trying to make the hammock she bought from the camping department and tied between two bookshelves even a little bit comfortable— it was unbearably miserable.
She rolled, wobbling as the hammock did, and fell to the floor, feeling the cold wood more comfortable.
A groan escaped her lips later, the chill disagreeing with her attire, “should’ve bought a cot, Aly.”
She sat up and took out a pillow from her pocket, opting to just sit on it and lay her back against the bookcases.
Alicia, or Missmoke, was at the Academy’s library at the moment. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to be there. But, technically, she was working as a Hero, and that usually waives most technicalities below heinous crimes.
She sighed, bringing up her holopad. Her eyes reflected a dark hue of blue as the irises within started moving left and right, mindlessly scanning and re-reading the wall of text on the holopad’s display.
A minute later, she winced as a dull sting drilled into her head.
“Ugh…” she closed her eyes and groaned through the pain. And the frustration. “I wasn’t expecting to find anything, but still…”
“Find what?”
“Ah!” She jolted, turning to mist and backing away. “Who—”
In front of her, grinning from ear to ear, was the woman who was in Lightspeed’s room earlier. She was still in her full-body brown jumpsuit, although curiously it was zipped up to the neck.
A giggle came from the woman, “You have a cute scream, honey.”
“Why are you here? Ma’a—”, she she choked as the woman’s eyes narrowed and the air felt heavier, “—ahem, Maxine.”
“It’s like we’re twins, honey. I was just about to ask you the same thing,” she spoke with a lighter tone and walked towards the hammock, sitting on it and making the two bookshelves groan. “Looking for our retiree?”
Alicia glanced at the books on the floor, the ones that listed villains and powers from the past few decades, “yeah.”
“You find out anything?”
“Just that villainy doesn’t come with a good retirement plan.”
“Neither do we. Villains die or get locked up, heroes die or get forgotten.”
“Didn’t you say you’re already retired?” Alicia raised a brow at her.
“There’re always exceptions,” she smirked, “did you check out retired heroes?”
“I just did,” Alicia tapped her watch to show her the wall of text.
Maxine averted her eyes, “yeesh, holograms in the dark? You’re trying to blind me, girl?”
“Sorry,” she swiped it away while sitting back down and leaning her head back against a bookshelf. “I don’t know… it’s frustrating. Those beetles, the gold, they’re—”
“—familiar,” Maxine finished her sentence.
Alicia’s eyes widened, turning towards the tiger-like woman with a question loaded, only to feel unnerved all of a sudden.
Maxine’s grin was gone.
“Twice is coincidence,” she muttered to herself, “what about your other friend? Did she say anything about it being familiar too?”
“She doesn’t really speak,” Alicia shook her head. “Why?”
“We need to go somewhere,” Maxine suddenly disappeared.
“Wha—”, she felt an arm around her waist, lifting her up like a squall. Before she could use her power to get away, she was stunned by the sudden appearance of a pair of doors in front of her. “What the— ugh.”
“We’re here,” Maxine spoke as if nothing happened.
Now on the floor, feeling the cold stone instead of the dank wood, confusion kept filling her head as the scenery changed like the flashing of an image. What was once rows and rows of shelves filled with dusty books were now manor walls and iron fences, hedges and trees and a fountain filled with glowing water.
She stood up and looked around, feeling the place magnitudes unfamiliar to her.
“Where did you take me?” She asked Maxine.
Or at least, she wanted to. But the sound of her voice was drowned out by the woman’s knocking.
Maxine’s fist hit the door. Loud. House-shaking loud.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Muffled shouting and hurried footsteps could be heard inside. Despite that, Maxine continued until the handle clicked and a spyglass popped out from above the door, “Maxxy? What the hell are you doing here? Who’s that?”
“Need your help, darling,” Maxine informed him, grinning.
“Help? It’s midnight, you ludicrous woman.”
“It’s important.”
“Important, how?”
“Open the door and I’ll explain,” Maxine flicked the spyglass away.
An audibly tired sigh came from behind the door, “Fine. You’ll break the damn door down anyway.”
“You know me so well,” she grinned.
As the person inside started unlocking the door, Alicia asked again with more concern this time, “Where are we?”
“A friend’s place,” Maxine answered.
The doors creaked as they swung open slowly, revealing the man inside. Alicia, not expecting to be surprised a second time, froze as she recognized the man. Or rather, the 'brain’.
“Miguel, Missmoke,” Maxine introduced her, “Missmoke, this is Miguel. Although you might know him as—”
“—Brainmatter”, she muttered as the brain in the jar somehow gave her a tired smile.
“Retired,” he corrected but nonetheless gestured to welcome her in, “nice to meet you, kiddo.”
----------------------------------------
“You have zero idea how to do that, do you, kid?” Batty’s amused comment irritated Calvin’s ear as he tried his best to ignore her and wiggle the tiny tool in his hand in hopes of hearing that satisfying click again.
He'd heard it before, feeling elation and a wave of accomplishment as the tensioning bar grabbed a hold of the pin that clicked— whichever pin it was. But it’s been a hot minute since then and was now in a void of desperately trying to find the same high one more time.
“I have an idea,” he murmured, now trying to pick harder, as if strength had anything to do with lockpicking, “all those rabbit holes couldn’t have been for nothing.”
“What are you expecting to see in there anyway?”
“Entire floor’s called 'storage’, what do you think is in there? Loot!”
“Loot? Why would they have an entire floor for it?”
“Because they’ve been pillaging and stealing for half a year? I don’t know. It’s here, we get it off their hands, and maybe they can’t use it to kill us. Maybe we can use whatever is in here to kill them.”
Calvin re-doubled his efforts as Batty’s unexpectant sigh harmlessly bounced off his barrier of hubris and delusion. Her foot taps quickened, increasing in rhythm by the second before the woman tapped his head.
“That cape’s gonna have enough time to make himself a bucket of chicken with the way you’re trying,” she muttered as her open palm suddenly appeared in his peripheral vision, “give it here.”
“You know how to do this?”
“What do you think I do for a living?”
“Dunno, I don’t watch baseball.”
“Neither do I,” she scoffed and snatched the tools from his hand before nudging him aside, “Here’s a tip. First thing you look at is the door itself. You gotta figure out something very important. Something that might make this so much quicker than it usually is.”
“What?” Interested in hearing out someone who was undoubtedly experienced with espionage.
“Whether or not it’s made of plywood,” she gave him an amused, immediately twisting the handle off of the door practically made of paper, “See?”
He frowned, “That’s no fun.”
“It’s not supposed to be,” she said, standing up and handing him his tools. “Let’s see what’s inside this poorly-secured treasure horde.”
With a measured push, she opened the door while peering inside, taking her time before fully opening it. The two went inside, and soon after, Calvin went outside. He checked the signage on the floor, the big red letters written by someone’s left foot, and read it out loud.
“Storage,” he nodded, trying to determine he wasn’t having a stroke while reading it. He stepped back inside and muttered to himself. “What the hell is this place?”
Curtains. Nothing but curtains. Built almost like the floor above, only each 'room’ was cordoned off not by walls, but by long pieces of cloth that dangled up from the short ceiling.
He walked closer and announced his findings to Batty, “it definitely says storage outside.”
Batty didn’t turn to him, electing to gaze at the un-storage-like room in front of them. She brandished her bat and whispered to him, “stay alert.”
Calvin nodded, taking out his wrench and readying his [Colour Control].
The pair walked carefully and quietly, heading towards the closest set of closed curtains. Batty was taking the lead, using her bat to poke through the seams in each piece of thick cloth to peer through.
Calvin’s eyes scanned all around them, making sure there was not a single person who could ambush them.
The sound of chain echoed as the bat parted the curtains with a hefty swing, cloth flapping as the two of them readied themselves for what was behind it.
“Fuck.” “Ugh.” Calvin grit his teeth while Batty cursed as they saw, and smelled, what was covered.
Half-rotten corpses. Not in a pile, thankfully, but individually on pieces of white cloth lying on the ground.
Calvin looked away, “Fuck. Are they dead?”
Batty, despite the inane question, poked the nearest one with her bat, “wait here.”
She walked over to the adjacent curtains, peeking inside before immediately closing it again. Then the next one. Then the next one. Until, finally, she started quickening her footsteps, heading towards the end of the hall while briefly looking through every curtain.
Calvin, left to his own, steeled his stomach and turned back around to look at the corpses.
'They’re not… rotting right,’ he thought, immediately noticing the anomaly.
The corpses were half-rotten, in the literal sense. Like parts of the person rotted in an instant while other parts retained a smidge of life— although they were definitively dead. He’d know, he had another dead dude in his pocket.
“I’ve seen this before,” he muttered, recollection coming to him. “The other kids floating in the green goo… they were just like this. Wait, so all of these—”
“Calvin!” Batty’s voice reached him from the other end of the hallway.
Without thinking, he used [Jumper], dashing as fast as possible towards her voice.
“Woah!” Batty backed away as soon as he reached her.
“What happened? What did—”, his eyes widened, a mix of greed and dread appeared in them as he saw why she called him. “Oh shit.”
The woman noticed his gaze and nodded, “oh fucking shit.”
At the end of the hall, behind the last set of curtains, were shelves upon shelves of canisters both of them were familiar with. Like thermoses, without lids, but with labels this time around.
He picked the nearest one up, ignoring the panel that immediately popped up, to read the label, “Smell memory.”
Super Absorb
Super Power: Olfactorial Reminiscence detected. Absorb? Yes No
“Loot.”