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Heroes of Tomorrow
The Battle for Atlantis: Part Three

The Battle for Atlantis: Part Three

Alpha Surge and Paragon facing off was on a whole other level.

They moved so fast that they looked like black and blue blurs. The whole ground shook whenever they hit each other. From Alpha Surge’s energy blasts, to Paragon’s sheer strength.

I tried to focus on their battle, but I could barely see Frankenstein’s group start to run away out of the corner of my eye.

“Birgit!” On cue, a large burst of ice formed from her feet. It blocked their way and I turned to them. “You have to help us.”

“Do we?” said Frankenstein with a smirk. “Only my machinations will stop Order, you can be sure of that, boy. You can all die as far as I care.”

“I disagree.” Surprisingly enough, it was Crisis who came to my defence. “So far we’ve been fallen multiple times by this man and his forces. Taking him out now, when he’s out here, full of arrogance and all alone, it seems like the best possible option.”

“I hate to say this, but they’re right,” said the woman, Rosita, her arms and eyes suddenly glowing. “To defeat him, we’ll need to work together. Heroes and villains.”

“Fine,” grumbled Frankenstein.

As if on cue once more a massive hit, with which the very air itself shook, Alpha Surge fell to the ground. Paragon stood over his body, blood dripping from his fist and a satisfied smile on his face.

No. No. No. No.

Alpha Surge was no longer in his energy form. He was normal, his face for the first time in as long as I could remember, was beaten and bloodied. I couldn’t even tell if he was breathing.

I flexed my fingers. I felt that little voice at the back of my head. He should pay for what he did. He would pay.

“You-You-” I crouched down, ready to rush at him. “You’ll regret this.”

But before I knew it, he’d grabbed my jaw, nearly crushing it even weakened as he was. He stood up, lifting me as high as he could. He looked up at me. His eyes were old and weary, but still full of that same arrogance I remembered. I touched his one remaining arm with both my hands, the fabric and skin tearing themselves off as he winced and threw me to the side.

“You can’t stop me again, Moros,” he said, coughing and shaking his arms. “I shall kill you like I should have decades ago, you wretched fanboy.”

Twin blasts of yellow energy hit Paragon in the face, followed almost immediately by Crisis’ small disks. They blew up in his face, and he stumbled back.

“You are an old and decadent creature, Paragon,” said Frankenstein, standing alongside his crew. Birgit rushed toward me. “You are a relic. One that is about to be permanently destroyed.”

He flew toward them with a boom, once again becoming a blur. But before he could connect, a blast of blue white energy hit him in the back. He was breathing heavily, tripping over himself, wincing with every move.

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But he was alive.

He was here.

“Did you really think I’d go down so easily, Paragon?”

I felt Birgit’s cold hand on my cheek. She was looking at me, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something. My eyes flicked between her and the battle. I stood up and nodded at Birgit.

This-this wasn’t the time for us to talk. As much as I hated to.

This was the time to fight against Paragon. He was now surrounded. From the look on his face, he must have realised it too. Even when I had him on the ropes, and he was bleeding from both his arm–even worse than he was now–and his side he didn’t look worried.

“You won’t stop me,” he said, steeling his expression again. “You can’t stop me

Birgit was the first one to move this time, sending a wave of ice at him.

He punched it away, pieces of it falling like hail all around us. I ran straight to him through the hail. He crouched, ready to rush at me, but a yellow and blue blast hit him from his sides.

He winced, but he still stood. Another pair of explosives distracted him. Alpha Surge was bathed in energy once again, screaming in pain–a sound that I’d never heard in my life–his arm glowing and crackling with energy as he punched him, finally bringing him on his knees.

It was just a second, but it was all I needed. On instinct found the stump that used to be his left arm. My hands covered the whole area. Blood exploded out of it, and Paragon wailed in pain.

I felt an unimaginable pain on my left shoulder as he grabbed at me throwing me back at Birgit, sending us both flying to the dirt.

He tried to stand, clearly barely managing it, as blood dripped from both his stump and his arm, as well as his nose and mouth. He looked at me. I felt his stare, and with it the very weight of everything he had done.

My neck felt stiff, and my whole body shuddered as I looked at him. At the man who’d wounded me beyond repair back when I was Jacob.

A hatred I’d never felt toward another person filled my gut.

“Come on then, Moros,” he said with a smile. “You win again. Relish in your victory over me.” He fell to his knees, his eyes wobbling between open and closed. “Do it. Isn’t that what you wanted last time? To break–To kill a god?”

I stood there, looking down at the man. The man whose strength and decisiveness I’d admired in another life. Then I looked at Alpha Surge and Birgit. I looked at this life. And I realised just how lucky I was.

I’d accepted Jacob as a part of my life. I’d been him, and I still was. His memories and emotions were and would always be a part of me. But I’d long since decided to be better. So I just ignored him. His consciousness faded and, with it, I felt a weight release from my shoulders.

So I just turned to the villains. To Frankenstein’s crew.

“I suppose we no longer have cause for a truce,” he said with a grin. Rosita got into a battle ready position almost instantly.

Crisis however, Crisis just walked up to us, smoke coming out of his coat, surrounding him. “I’m afraid this is not a battle we can win.” He motioned to something behind us.

A glowing set of chains flew past me and the smoke that had taken Crisis’ place–I had to admit, I was impressed by how fast he disappeared–and wrapping around Fankenstein himself.

Before Rosita could react, Madame Where had teleported in front of her. She hit Rosita in the jaw with a palm strike, sending her back before another set of chains descended on her, binding her like Frankenstein.

Professor Mystic had, with his suit glowing red, floated down, looking across us all.

“I hope you don’t mind, friends,” he said with a small smile. “We were late, and I sincerely apologise.”

I felt my inner fanboy come to the surface again for the first time in a long time.

We did it. We won.