Delsin Rowe was placed in The United States Penitentiary, Administrative Maximum Facility for his extensive history of various gang-affiliated murders of fellow inmates during his conviction for double homicide. In lieu of the death penalty, Delsin has been brought here to ensure that he would not be a threat to any more lives as he would spend the rest of his days in solitary confinement under armed watch.
At least, that was the idea.
Delsin had been preparing a tunnel for his escape since the day he moved dirt without touching it. For months, he steadily trained the range and precision of his mutation to the point where he could affect the dirt outside of his cell. For twenty-three hours a day, he built his tunnel with ventilation, stability, and re-sealing in mind. The tunnel would be filled with loose soil to keep them up for the big day. When he did go through them, the loose soil would fall away in his path and then re-fill behind him.
“That’s what I’m gathering here,” said the Broadsword drone, “it was a good plan, don’t get me wrong. Unfortunately, the local Aphaenogaster Uinta was being displaced by your tunnel. That was how I found out that the Colorado geological survey detected some unusual movements that coincided with the displacement over the past months.”
“Come face me yourself, Wasi'chu,” yelled Delsin, who struggled from being held down on his knees by two guards.
“Ah, Wah-see-choo, that one’s new. No thanks, I’m pretty good here,” said Garrick, feet on his desk, with a sapphire martini in hand, “anyways, that wasn’t enough to say for certain so we staked some survey meters in the area. They aren’t perfect but they are the best we have. The same radiation detector is in those cuffs of yours that beep if you try to use your mutation.
The beeping means ‘tase him’, by the way.”
At Garrick’s command, the guards tased Delsin into compliance so that he could be hauled back to prison where he would be prepared for yet another transfer.
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There was a time when the bells of Oracle Church did not ring. Corruption sowed scandal in an infertile field. Leeches siphoned the church of all its value and left the corpse to the maggots. It was the Folious family, spearheaded by Father Ezekial Folious, that returned the flock to the path.
Thirty years ago, a miracle was born. His daughter, Aaliyah Folious, was one of the first to be blessed with celestial gifts that attracted attention the world over: Believers and Skeptics, Pacifists and Warmongers, Rich and Poor. Ezekiel was already a pious man, but when he foresaw that the greed plaguing Lerna would pervert and squander his daughter’s light if it was left unchecked, a righteous fire was lit in his heart and he took it upon himself to guide his family, and his people.
They started from their home: visitors came to have their ailments cured and beliefs found. It was there that Ross Izeal was saved, in body and in spirit. The overwhelming revelation drove him to take the rotten stone and broken windows of Oracle Church and deliver to the Folious Family a church of marble and stained glass.
With Izeal’s support, and the alms of guests from across mountains and seas, the church would gain more allies to become the foundation upon which every other part of the community could stand firmly. They had tutoring for students, and grants for gospel music, plays, biblical cage matches, and public art projects. Ezekiel’s sermons were televised and streamed around the world and more than just spreading the word of The Lord, it kept international attention on Aaliyah, and on Oracle Church.
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Today, Ezekial brought his allies on stage to celebrate how far Lerna has come: Mr. Ross Izeal; Mr. Victor Deimos; and, of course, his wife and daughter, Mary and Aaliyah Folious. Together, along with the support of so many others, they have made Lerna an inspiration for the rest of the city.
But there was another ally who helped make all this possible. Garrick Iolcus. He is the one who safeguarded and nurtured Aaliyah beyond her household. He was the one who cleansed the streets of Lerna and struck fear in the hearts of the wicked. From his tower, he has come to stand in this church with us this day.
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After a couple of hours, the service ended. Without the pulpit, Garrick and Aaliyah became the center of attention. This was a boon, as Ezekiel received an important message from a little birdie and was able to slip away. He got in his SUV and there were three shadows in the back seat. The engine gurgled to a start but the radio spat static.
“Look, I —”
“Drive,” On those orders, Ezekiel drove out of the church lot in a cold sweat. At a stop sign, he heard before he saw the Fatman rocket overheard.
“He’s trying to keep up with the new competition—and he said it was too expensive,” said Tyler.
“I don’t think we should talk right now,” said Ezekial.
“How is Aaliyah?” asked Tyler. Ezekiel clutched the steering wheel tightly, torn between who he feared to upset more. A car behind them honked and forced Ezekiel to keep driving.
“She told me it's gotten stricter. She can no longer go outside or use her miracles unsupervised; instead, they have her schedule more packed than ever. Her movements and communications are monitored. They are monitoring my family and the Vandimions as well, but I don’t think they are concerned with you.”
“If that’s all, then there is nothing to worry about. How are you, Uncle Folious? I haven’t spoken to you in years.”
“Look, I appreciate the good you’ve done but I always regretted turning a blind eye to some of your… methods. I mean, this is too much for even you right? Not that it should ever come to that I mean. If you think that Aaliyah will be alright then there is nothing for us to do, right?”
“‘I agree completely.”
“… really?”
“I just needed to know the situation at hand. There is no need for your involvement otherwise.
Now, bring me to my home.”
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The Deimos household stood out as the only one that still had steel grilles over its doors and windows. As Tyler reached for the door handle, his momma pushed out with an open beer can in the other hand. He held his shoes by his fingertips and walked past her. His retinue followed suit into the living room where the sliding door glass began to fog up.
“Ain’t you at least gonna introduce your guests,” said momma, she pointed at them with her beer hand, “Tell me you will at least keep this one,” Momma said to the woman who had put her shoes down to wear clean boots that were left by the sliding door.
“Teumess is just a friend from work,” said Tyler. Momma raised an eyebrow at that name. “It’s her codename.”
“I’m gonna need Grandkids eventually; you ain’t gonna be pretty forever.”
“I’m not having this conversation. Please take care of your health.”
Four-Leaf and Teumess had already left through the foggy glass. Tyler had on his brown boots and was about to leave when he felt a hand on his sleeve. Her limp grip easily gave away. With her head hung low, she only heard them disappear into the fog.