The heavy drone rumbled as it left the lab. Mod and Arsenal held on tight. They were sitting on the cold metal bench that lined the outer wall of the drone. Mod had opted to wear his combat suit and helmet. Arsenal was in her normal exosuit.

Despite all the times Mod had ridden in Dr. Venture’s Fast-Response drones, this felt wholly different. Not only were the smaller drones built to cocoon the rider and protect them from harm, they felt smaller—there was an urgency and swiftness to their movement. Even when secure and snug inside, Mod could still feel the drone in all its dips and dives and hard accelerations.

Meanwhile, the heavy drone moved like a cruise ship or a flying building, which wasn’t far from the truth. It moved with steady power. Arsenal asked for TINA to bring up a view of the outside as they flew. Outside, the waves were whipping up into swells ten feet high and winds ripped shattered glass from buildings.

The heavy drone didn’t lurch or bob in the storm. Even with Mod’s enhanced senses, he didn’t feel the drone so much as sway in the breeze.

Arsenal said, “When we get there, don’t give them any more information than necessary. Just codenames and codenames for McGuire and the others—that way they’ll stick us in a group together.”

“Got it,” Mod replied. He wasn’t particularly keen about talking to anyone at the Summit or about being enlisted, but these were desperate times.

He thought briefly about Athena. She’d been the first contact he’d made since becoming a super. Mod had no idea how long the forcefield-wielding super had been a mask, but he couldn’t imagine her signing up with the Summit of Heroes. Even if she didn’t join up officially, Athena would still help defend the city. She’d been instrumental in taking down the mutagen manufacturing warehouse a few weeks ago.

But Mod hadn’t heard from her since then.

At first, he’d been worried, but Athena could take care of herself. If anything, she was probably taking care of something personal. She would contact them if she needed something.

“Are you good?” Arsenal asked. She turned her exosuit helmet so she was looking directly at him. “I know what kind of experience you’ve had with capes so far.”

Mod scoffed a laugh. At the moment, he was more tired than anything. They’d only gotten four hours of sleep last night between dealing with The Freakshow and the tsunamis. Despite the coffee, he felt somewhere between irritable and delirious.

“As long as they don’t stick me on a team with Hunter Nine, I’ll manage.”

Any of the Hunters, for that matter…

“Don’t worry. I’ll hold you back,” Arsenal replied.

~

The heavy drone set down in a parking lot on the outskirts of the Northern outskirts of Belport, near where it dropped off McGuire, Cherry, Larian, and Krystal only a few hours ago. Mod and Arsenal disembarked, and the heavy drone flickered as its stealth camouflage reengaged. The enormous blocky outline vanished and a wind blasted across the lot as the drone departed.

Mod and Arsenal jogged toward the Summit staging area—a massive office building buzzing with small helicopters and flying supers. A barbed wire fence had been erected around the block. Across the street, white tents dotted a department store parking lot. Many of their family members would be there, including Mod’s.

He knew that he should go see his family. His mom would want to put eyes on him, but text messages would have to do for now.

Besides, he wasn’t really up for seeing his folks at the moment. Not only was most of Belport underwater, but he hadn’t even had time to process the events with The Freakshow.

Had all of it happened just last night?

Mod jogged beside Arsenal, feeling numb. When they finally stopped in front of the Summit staging area, his hands were shaking.

“Are you okay? Your heart is racing.”

Mod almost jumped at TINA’s voice in his earpiece.

“Everything okay?” Arsenal asked.

“Yeah,” Mod said quickly. “Just tired.”

The pair walked over to the makeshift gate. Several supers and armed guards stopped them. The center super, dressed in gleaming medieval-style armor, stepped up to them.

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“Names and affiliations.”

Arsenal answered for them. “Arsenal and Mod. We work with McGuire, Cherry, Larian, and Krystal.”

The knight stared at Mod, then stood up a little straighter. The super tapped his earpiece and muttered, “Unaffiliated. A guard will escort you inside. You are to stay with the rest of the new recruits. Don’t leave until you’re given the order to.”

Mod and Arsenal exchanged a glance but stayed silent. The guards looked them up and down, but the other supers were glaring at Mod. He tried to ignore them.

Word must have spread about what happened to Hunter Nine. Mod had almost forgotten about it. Compared to the events with The Freakshow and the tsunamis, his feud with Hunter Nine felt miniscule.

One guard broke off from the group and led them to the front of the building and through the main foyer. Tables littered the open room and DSA agents buzzed between them. The guard ushered them into a large side room—the kind made for presentations or lectures. It gave Mod the uneasy feeling of being back at Belport University.

The guard said, “Try to stay together with your group. A member of the Summit will be in shortly… You can leave your armor in the back of the room if you’re comfortable.”

Arsenal glanced around and muttered, “Thanks.”

The room was already three-quarters full, and most of the supers turned around to look at them. It was an interesting assortment—most looked like they were wearing homemade costumes rather than anything professional. Ski masks, costume domino masks, one person was even wearing panty hose over their face.

At first, Mod was taken aback; was this really the best of the unregistered masks of Belport? But Mod checked himself and his assumptions. After all, only a few months ago he’d been running around wearing similar gear. Hell, McGuire still wore homemade stuff. Not everyone had a multi-million dollar private lab, a retired cape, and an AI at their disposal.

Seeing the rest of the supers in the room made Mod feel self-conscious about his suit. It was matte black with gray swirls—channels of non-newtonian fluid that would harden under impacts. They both acted as a layer of armor plates and as braces when punching and kicking. Even though the helmet was completely solid like Arsenal’s exosuit helmet, thin fabric covered the parts that the hard shell didn’t.

McGuire said it made him look like a cyborg. Mod felt stronger just wearing it—

Except for right now. Now he just felt overdressed.

They grabbed a pair of open chairs in the back corner of the room. Arsenal climbed out of her exosuit and left it in the back of the room, which elicited more stares from the rest of the capes. Because of the occasion, she’d opted to wear a mask along with her bodysuit. Meanwhile, her exosuit stood in the back of the room with the sleek lines of a fighter jet.

At least the other supers in the room wouldn’t know Hunter Nine and have any prejudices against Mod.

They hadn’t discussed it beforehand, but Arsenal seemed as keen as Mod did on keeping all of the prospective new capes in view. The air was a mix of nervousness and excitement. Only a few of the masks were whispering amongst themselves.

Mod glanced around the room, trying to see if he could suss out any of their powers at a glance or at least identify any fellow artificers or gadgeteers. Two supers had weapons sitting beside their chairs—a battleaxe and a metal bo staff. Another had giant white wings folded behind their back. Two more supers played with piles of ice and sand on their desks, respectively. Another super has reflective panels along their suit.

But other than those clues, Mod couldn’t tell outright what anyone else’s powers were. That followed with his experience out on the streets and rooftops of Belport though. Unless someone had an obvious physical mutation or were actively using their powers, it wouldn’t be easy to tell what they were working with.

There didn’t appear to be anyone else like him or Arsenal—

At least not until McGuire walked into the room.

McGuire’s outfit might’ve been more homemade than the others, but there was an air of put-togetherness that made him stand out amongst the rest of the recruits. He had the look of a safari guide—khaki clothes and vest along with an enormous backpack. His mask… Well, maybe that fit in with the rest of the homemade outfits. It looked like McGuire had just cut holes in a scarf and wrapped it around his face.

Cherry, Larian, and Krystal looked more put together. Cherry opted for leather, a small domino mask, and long pink hair. Larian’s bodysuit shimmered like dark green snakeskin. Meanwhile, Krystal was dressed in all black like the goths used to wear. Her bright blue hair was her only color.

Mod saw his friends and waved.

McGuire waved back, then all four of them walked over to their corner of the room and grabbed seats. They looked as tense as Mod felt.

McGuire slung his enormous backpack into his lap and pushed down the top so that he could see over it. He whispered, “So, this is Belport’s finest?”

Cherry elbowed him. “Be nice.”

Krystal added, “Yeah, not all of us wore our safari-Sunday best.”

McGuire scoffed and crossed his arms. “Some of us have to carry things around.”

Larian ignored the exchange. “We are certainly an odd mix.”

Arsenal’s hand brushed Mod’s, as if to remind him that she was still there beside him. Mod smiled. Despite the craziness of the last twenty-four hours, just having his friends beside him, made Mod feel better.

Then the door swung open again, and three Summit capes walked into the room. The first wore a bright white and gold suit, like an ancient Greek goddess might’ve worn. The second was dressed in wizard robes and wore an enormous emerald green gauntlet on his right hand.. Mod didn’t recognize them, but he’d look them up in his database later.

The third cape wore a crystalline blue bodysuit and mask. Her mask was criss-crossed with an intricate geometric design. Mod recognized her immediately.

Serenity. Hunter Nine’s partner.

~ ~ ~