Mod faced down his former friend.

Seconds ticked by.

Neither of them moved from the steaming platform.

“Move,” Lock said.

Mod didn’t reply, and he didn’t move.

Lock’s hands were at his side. Even though he looked relaxed, it only took him a fraction of a second to swing.

Even with his cognition, Mod barely saw it coming.

He twisted out of the way, turning the devastating hit into a glancing blow across his shoulder. Still, the impact shattered his outer layer of nanites, triggered the pockets of non-newtonian fluid in his supersuit, and still sent Mod skidding backward across the slick surface.

Mod caught himself before he fell off of the platform. His shoulder ached. He rolled it once to make sure everything was intact. He could deal with pain, as long as the prosthetic was intact.

Mod stared back defiantly.

Lock stared back. A hint of surprise flickered across his face.

“...I tore the last guy in half. What’s your boss feeding you?”

For a moment, Mod saw his old roommate. Gnosis’s laboratory could’ve been their old apartment. It felt like springtime again, right before graduation. Like no time had passed.

Mod almost went for a quip. Almost asked if that punch was the best Lock had.

But they weren’t roommates anymore. A lot had happened since graduation. Mod wasn’t even sure if they were friends anymore.

They’d have to work all that out. But first they had to get out of here.

Mod took a breath and held up both hands in a show of peace. “We came down here to get you out. Are you coming with us?”

“Just like that, huh?”

“Yes.”

Twice, Lock’s body tensed like he was going to attack. It was everything Mod could do not to flinch.

Then Lock swung for real.

But Mod was ready. Lock might’ve put even more power into this punch, but Mod could see exactly where it was going to land.

He stepped to the side, dodging it completely. At the same time, he left some of his nanites in the air. They left a ghostly afterimage behind. It wasn’t a decoy or distraction—Lock wouldn’t have fallen for either.

It was a trap.

Lock’s fist passed through the afterimage, and nanites latched onto every inch of his skin. A sleeve of black oozed up his arm. If Lock noticed, he didn’t stop his assault.

Lock swung again—a wide haymaker that would’ve taken Mod’s head off.

Mod slipped under it, and readied for the next punch. Lock brought both fists down in a vicious overhead strike, only to miss completely. His fists slammed down onto the platform, rattling the entire structure. More nanites coated his face.

There was no way that any amount of nanites would be able to restrain Lock. He was far too strong. That was fine. All Mod needed to do was blind him.

Nanites seeped over Lock’s eyes, coating them in black. He crouched low and wiped at his face ineffectively. When that didn’t work, Lock roared and scratched at his face, tearing chunks of bone away, but more nanites just seeped into the gaps.

Mod tried to move quietly away, but as soon as he took a step, Lock lunged in his direction.

Mod leapt to the side, easily avoiding the tackle. Lock sailed across the room and crashed into a monitoring station. Glass scattered and metal squealed under the impact. Lock rose to his feet, tearing half the control box free and hurling it across the room. Athena used a barrier to direct it out of the way and it crashed into the wall.

Mod tried again. “You need to stop. Let’s get out of here and we can sort it out later.”

“You want me to stop!”

Lock’s clawed fingers dug into the floor. With startling ease, he tore a chunk of concrete free and hurled it in Mod’s direction. It wasn’t close. Mod stood his ground as it sailed wide over his shoulder. It impacted across the room, utterly destroying a viewing station.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Lock stayed hunched over in the wreckage. The gashes across his eyes were already healing, but his face was still twisted in rage.

“Why didn’t you stop? You just couldn’t leave well enough alone. None of this—none of it would’ve happened if it weren’t for you!”

Mod clenched his fists. “I should’ve just died, huh?”

Lock leapt forward and Mod tried to dodge—

But he’d expected another wild lunge. Instead, Lock feinted, stopping short. He lashed out with a flurry of slashes. His claws hissed through the air, cut clear through metal, and dug gouges in the concrete. After the initial feint, Mod could read his opponent, but Lock was so fast it almost didn’t matter. Mod could barely get out of the way—

Then he didn’t.

A fist slammed into Mod’s chest, the impact hurling him across the room. The blow had knocked the breath out of him, and Mod barely managed to twist and catch himself on the far wall—

He bounded out of the way again, narrowly avoiding another wild leap from Lock. His former roommate crashed into the wall where he’d been a split second ago. Mod tumbled across the floor and sent a command to the nanites around Lock’s face. Leftover nanites flooded into Lock’s ear canals, muting his hearing.

Mod clutched his chest where he’d been hit. Lock’s claws had cut clean through his suit. Blood trickled down his hand, but he could already feel nanites stitching up the wound.

Arsenal, Athena, and the scientists shuffled out the gap in the blast doors and into the safety of the hallway.

Arsenal’s voice came quietly in his earpiece. “Mod, we need to go.”

Mod ignored her.

He lowered his voice to a whisper and allowed TINA to transmit his voice to the nanites in his friend’s ear.

“Just stop.”

Lock swiped madly through the air. He couldn’t tell where the sound was coming from.

“Coward!” Lock slashed through a nearby control station as he ranted. “You couldn’t leave well enough alone. Did you feel guilty? Is that it?!”

Mod stepped carefully away as Lock swung wildly. He’d stalked across the platform, slashing through wires and cutting deep gouges into the holding tank. He hesitated, realizing what he’d struck.

Lock reached his massive arms as far as he could around the holding tank. He barely made it halfway around the structure, but he bore his claws into the metal.

He cried out and pulled.

Concrete tore. Metal screamed. Bolts snapped. Lock ripped the holding tank out of the platform, sending chunks of concrete and rebar into the air.

For a moment, it looked like he was going to hurl it across the room, and Mod readied himself. But Lock hesitated… Instead, he dropped his former prison unceremoniously on the ground, right where he’d uprooted it. The impact shook the room again.

Lock stared down at it, and even though the tank was bigger than him, he overshadowed it.

His chest heaved, but his voice was quiet. “You should’ve left me alone… You should’ve left me.”

Mod ordered the nanites to stand down.

He took a careful step forward. “Look, I don’t know what to do or what to say about all that shit from before. But I’m here now. I can’t just leave you down here.”

Silence stretched on.

Finally, Lock turned. The mixture of nanites, blood, and tears stained his face like warpaint. But his expression softened as he gestured to the tank. “Guess I can’t stay.”

Mod cracked a smile. “Come on, man. Let’s get the hell outta here.”

Lock wiped his face and nose, letting out an exaggerated sigh. Some of the nanites came off onto his hand. Lock looked up and asked, “You need these back?”

“How about you keep them for a while.”

Lock grinned—an expression that looked more menacing than mischievous. “What’s the matter… Still don’t trust me?”

Mod scoffed. He didn’t trust Lock—not right now. But that wasn’t it. He didn’t need those nanites back.

Mod replied, “I’ve been making more.”

Since the fight, nanites had been breaking down the wreckage. Part of the original deal with Ichabod had been not causing excessive damage. Hopefully, Ichabod wouldn’t mind him recycling some of the already damaged systems.

He called the newly formed nanites to him. Nanites streamed across the floor, then climbed up his legs and across his suit. Lock watched with a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

NANITES 365% CAPACITY

It was good enough. Mod turned back to Lock. “Look, we’re trying to do this without killing people. Are you alright with that?”

Lock rolled his eyes. “Fine. Then we should go out the side entrance. Less trouble. I can show you—”

“That won’t be necessary,” TINA said into Mod’s earpiece. “I have the route mapped for them already.”

Lock obviously heard. He smirked. He pawed idly at the nanites around his chin but relented. “Alright. You lead this time.”

Mod led them to the blast doors, then called to Arsenal and Athena that they were coming out and ready to move. His teammates had taken position in the hallway. The scientists were huddled behind them and cowered under Lock’s gaze.

Only Dr. Carter spoke up, her voice quivering. “Your body isn’t stable. You need medical—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Lock hissed. His fists were clenched.

Arsenal stepped between them. “She’s right. Even if we get out of here, you’ll need our help.”

Lock took a measured breath. “Guess I’ll be visiting your old man.”

Arsenal hesitated. “He’s… The lab’s gone. …A lot’s changed.”

Mod replied, “We’ve got our own tools. Look, man, we wouldn’t have come all the way down here if we didn’t think we could help you.”

Athena cleared her throat. “If you guys are done with the touching reunion, can we please get a move on?”

~ ~ ~