The spymaster of the Summit of Heroes paced the office, his footsteps echoing through the empty room. The room was in the middle of renovation and had been mostly emptied, save for a small workstation and meeting table. Even though they’d been checked for bugs, he double-checked them himself. He phased his hands through the structure, checking for wires and electronics. He’d expected the Binary Brotherhood to keep tabs on him, and was almost disappointed that they weren’t.

He’d spent the last hour reviewing plans for a second Vault location, one specializing in magic affiliated villains. Vault Beta. In the past, the mage guilds had handled their imprisonment, but a lot had changed since then.

Between war with the Deep Ones and the Binary Brotherhood capitalizing on the aftermath, the proverbial game was going to change. New players… New rules… Those he could deal with. Wight just hoped they didn’t flip the board in the process.

The mage guilds, in particular, seemed keen to offload some of their lower-ranking criminals to Vault Beta. Like so many other super organizations, they were banking on increased surveillance, leading to an increase in imprisonment.

It was a good bet. Cracking down on crime always led to more incarceration. It happened time and time again across the world. Be tough on crime, catch a few more criminals, and create even more in the process. It was the reason why The Code existed, and why villains were locked up more often than they were killed. Once you started escalating, it was a difficult process to stop.

Cracking down on crime wasn’t any different.

If society really wanted to get rid of crime, they would invest in education and rehabilitation, and change the incentives. Stamp it out at the roots.

The problem was that cracking down on crime sounded better and it paid better too. Short-term profits over long-term sustainability. Organizations like the Brotherhood that were all too eager to sell the hammers and the jails.

Shit, Wight thought to himself. I’m starting to sound like Venture.

He kept pacing back and forth in the room, trying in vain to outrun his disillusionment.

A few minutes later, he got an in-progress report from the developing situation on Belport’s Eastside. Savanus had messaged to say that Mod and Arsenal had escaped. She declined to say more, but that was enough.

Wight let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

Around the same time, an alert appeared on the screen. Golden Boy was approaching the facility at just under the speed of sound. The incoming call sign flickered, and his voice came through a moment later.

“Sir, do you copy?”

“I read you.”

“...Do you have a moment?”

“I can make time.”

Golden Boy had been dispatched to the disturbance on Eastside. Hopefully, he’d have more information about what had happened.

~

Wight continued pacing for the next few minutes until Golden Boy arrived. It was only slight hyperbole to say that he had a million things on his mind. Golden Boy was only one of them.

Thankfully, no one had been seriously injured—supers or civilians.

A morbid part of Wight wished someone had died at the hands of Savanus’s biomechs. Maybe then the Allied States would wise up and refuse to put their safety in the hands of the Brotherhood.

Golden Boy let himself into the office and immediately Wight noticed the super was stressed. His face was clenched, as if he was forcing himself to remain stoic. And he was still floating.

Floating came so naturally to Golden Boy now that he often had to remind himself to walk.

Wight walked alongside the troubled super, a subtle gesture for Golden Boy to follow him. The two men paced the room idly, one continuing to float slightly higher than the other.

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Finally, Wight prompted him. “What happened down there?”

Golden Boy recounted what happened in the maintenance tunnels—how he tracked Mod’s group, the exchange that happened, the extra super and vampire, and finally, how Mod got the better of him. He also recounted his exchange with Ava Savanus.

Wight listened intently as they walked, but he was even more focused on Golden Boy’s nonverbal communication and speech patterns. He’d been keeping it together until he recounted Mod’s bullets and the cold sand that covered his eyes and ears.

“...I could’ve found my way back above ground, but I waited instead. Mod was right; the sand wore off in an hour.”

Wight nodded along. Golden Boy’s demeanor made sense now.

“It’s been a long time since that’s happened,” Wight said.

“It hasn’t been that long since I’ve lost a fight.”

“No. Since you’ve been humbled. Mod capitalized on his strengths, your weakness, and the situation. He knew your powers and that you wouldn’t have a ready countermeasure for the bullets. He also knew he had to land a shot on you for those bullets to work, which was only possible because his ally boxed you in. And that only worked because they had you contained underground… That’s why you’re shaken up and still floating around.”

Golden Boy slowly lowered himself to the ground. He took a breath as they walked.

“You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”

Wight patted Golden Boy on the back. “It’s my job to know these things. So, when was it?”

“When I first manifested my powers,” Golden Boy answered without hesitation. “Fighting the Blood Baron. My powers kept growing, though. Ever since I’ve been Class 4, the Summit is more careful with engagements.”

“At your level, collateral damage is a liability you can’t afford.”

Golden Boy sighed and finally seemed to relax. “You’re right… It was embarrassing. Sure, we’ll go with that. Still, you talk about Mod like you’ve been shadowing him for years. How do you know him so well?”

“Did I tell you that Venture and I go back a ways?”

“You’ve mentioned it.”

“Venture told me about Mod. Talked about him quite a bit, considering how sensitive the whole situation was.”

“He trusted you.”

Past tense. Golden Boy hadn’t meant it that way, but the wound was still fresh in Wight’s mind.

Golden Boy sensed his slip and corrected. “Tell me about this super that everyone’s so worried about. I can’t remember the last time so many organizations were worried about one man. There’s the Summit, the Brotherhood, the Menagerie… am I missing anyone?”

Wight sighed. “He’s on a lot of people’s radar, but I suspect that was only because he was Venture’s protégé. Now that Venture’s out of the picture, most people have lost interest. Not the Brotherhood… Not Savanus either. You don’t need to be a spy to see the way her eyes light up when Mod comes up in conversation.”

Golden Boy added, “She wants to reverse engineer him? For her biomechs?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her. But the way she talks, it seems personal for her, like a kid waiting to unwrap a present on Christmas morning.”

Golden Boy frowned. “That’s a disturbing metaphor.”

“Fits the situation. She’s got her work cut out for her, though.”

“Go on.”

Wight said, “Do you know how Venture found Mod?”

Golden Boy nodded. “I know the general file. He interned with Dr. Venture. He was caught in the middle of a battle on Champion street, and Dr. Venture saved his life.”

“Did you read up on his injuries?”

“Uh… no, sir.”

Wight stopped and crossed his arms. “Mod would’ve lived with just some reconstruction and a Mutagen-A infusion. Venture didn’t have to give him a new arm, let alone a prototype. He could’ve left Mod a regular amputee.”

“So, Venture planned this from the beginning?”

Wight scoffed and continued pacing the room. “You give him too much credit. Venture’s a scientist. Sometimes they mix things together just to see what happens. However, I do think that Venture saw Mod’s potential.”

Golden Boy added, “Mod wanted to be a hero. Venture gave him what he wanted. But that’s not everything…”

Wight asked. “What stops most supers from getting stronger?”

“Is this a trick question? …Most can’t get stronger. They have a cap, and once they master their powers and reach that cap, they’re stuck.”

Wight nodded. “Here we have a young man, who was smart and driven enough to get taken under the wing by, arguably, the most gifted artificer of this generation. He gets reborn as a super, only he doesn’t have the same limitations. Mod can continue to iterate and improve on himself, develop new weapons and countermeasures when he needs them…

“Here is a young man who is limited only by his ambition and his morality.”

The two supers had slowed and now stood in the center of the empty office.

Golden Boy replied, “Can he be trusted with that? That sounds almost exactly like the Brotherhood’s reason for outlawing Artificial Intelligence.”

Wight nodded and chose his next words carefully.

“I trust Venture. He trusts Mod… All I know is, I trust them a hell of a lot more than I trust the Brotherhood…”

He stopped after that. Wight was glad Mod was still out there. Maybe he could keep the Brotherhood on their toes.

~ ~ ~