Pro-now convened a meeting that evening.

The SRA had departed hours ago, and I was stuck in a session with the psychotherapist when the reminder came in.

I picked up my phone and read the details, noting how Catherine strived for orderliness even in text.

“Is there a problem?” Hassatu asked from across the table. Her glasses slipped down her nose, and she nudged it back up using one bony finger.

“We have a meeting slated for six o'clock,” I said. “First floor.”

Hassatu checked her watch. “That leaves you only one hour to prepare.”

“Yeah,” I said, sinking into the club chair.

“It also means our session will conclude earlier than usual today. You’re already behind the rest of your teammates.”

“Yeah . . .”

Hassatu smiled wryly. She smoothed her al-Amira and scribbled some words in her notebook. “The abrupt conclusion doesn't bother you as much?”

It didn't, but I had enough grace not to say.

Hassatu shut her notebook. “Let's end things here. You have an intriguing outlook on recent events, Volley, and I would love to discuss it more during our next session.” She leaned back in her chair. “Do you still feel suffocated now that you've completed one month at the base?”

Did I?

I wasn’t quite sure. The anchor hung ever-present on my back; its thick fumes nestled deep in my veins. It wasn’t as ominous these days. But it was there.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“These feelings take time to resolve,” Hassatu said. “We can explore them in detail next session.”

“Great. I'll be on my way then. Have a nice day, Thep.”

Hassatu frowned. “Thep? Neviecha came up with that one, didn't he?”

“Who else?”

She exhaled into her palm. “See you next week, Volley.”

I exited her office, which was just the library for now, seeing as she only visited thrice a week.

Toye stood beside the door, staring daggers at the wall.

Uh-oh.

“Toye,” I greeted, unwilling to be intimidated.

The blondfart eyed me like I was something rotten. “You have a lot of guts, you know that?”

“And you have a lot of time on your hands,” I said. “The general meeting is scheduled for six. In case you missed the memo.”

“Will you shut up just this once?”

I shoved my hands into my pockets. “What do you want, Toye?”

“What do I want? You set a monster on me!”

“Except, I didn't do that. Broken arm, remember? I got them fighting the rat. Good job keeping it off me though. I guess I should be thanking you.”

Toye pushed off the wall. It said a lot about his expression that I almost stepped back. However, screw my irrational fear. I wasn't giving him an inch.

“I don't freaking care,” he said, “about the lies you told Kabash and Dia Mater. I know what you did. I saw you order that creature to attack me.”

“You’re mistaken. Either that or you underwent a series of hallucinations. But I must commend your bright idea to jump me here at Base.”

“Oh, I will get even,” Toye said. “You can bet on it.”

“How scary.”

“You think you're something special, huh, idiot? You think you can just waltz in here and start giving orders from out of nowhere?”

I looked him in the eye. “I am not special. I don't think I am. If I had my way, I wouldn't be leading the team. But let's be real here, Toye. Walk a mile in someone else's shoes, then look back on yourself and tell me what you see.”

“I don’t care—”

“You're a loose cannon,” I barreled on. “An immature jerk incapable of fostering basic unity. You're a selfish, arrogant prick who thinks it's okay to hurt and tear down everyone you encounter. And when you aren’t patted on the back for your misdoings, what do you do? You turn around and cry.”

Toye's eyes darkened. “That’s a lot of words from someone I am going to kill.”

I stuttered to a stop. Algid water halted me in my tracks. Toye had barely muttered the words, but they'd achieved exactly what he wanted.

“D-death t-threats?” I said. “You will go that far?”

But Toye was already receding.

“Is there a problem, Volley?” Hassatu asked, emerging from the library minutes after Toye’s departure.

I glanced at her and realized I was rooted in place. “Err. No.”

“If you will excuse me then,” she said. She left through the revolving doors.

Goddammit. I had a problem, didn’t it? Toye had outright threatened me with murder. A threat not even Cnidarian had made—and she was supposed to be the Villain.

I ran a hand through my hair. No. He wasn’t serious. He had only been channeling his rage. However, wasn't murder the natural progression of the enmity between us? I had technically—by a tiny little bit—tried to kill him twice. Sure, he had asked for it both times. But should I be surprised he now considered me a mortal enemy?

I trudged for the dorms. The air-con had been left running in my room, but it did nothing to calm my worries. I pulled on my costume, sweating despite the chill.

Toye planned to kill me. I had to report this to Dia Mater and get him booted off the team. I didn’t particularly enjoy living in this crap-hole called reality, but death was quite the no-no.

He wouldn’t go that far, would he?

Pro-now scheduled the meeting on the first floor, the one place most staff and Heroes were barred from entering.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I rode the elevator up to the ground floor and took the nearby staircase, nodding at a trio of stationed guards. They waved me through without a word, and I continued up until I reached an expansive landing.

Design-wise, the first floor was no different from the ground one, save for the lack of an entrance hall. Each of the departments sat behind solid walls, which made sense, considering the business we got up to here. Catherine had been kind enough to text directions, and I followed them all the way up to Conference Room Five.

The meeting participants turned to face me. A long, boat-shaped table sat in the middle of the room, featuring an equal number of seats—ten on both sides—with an extra one at the head of the table. All four of my teammates were already in attendance, as were six of the adult Heroes. Ardent, Catherine, and two men I didn't recognize rounded out the number.

“Err, Hi,” I said.

Bazaar giggled.

“Good evening, Volley,” Pro-now said, leaning against the opposite wall. A giant monitor hung beside him. “Take a seat anywhere you choose.”

I did so, drawing a chair between Catherine and Kabash. The seat put me out of eye contact with Activity, who had settled at the other end of the table between Ardent and Harvest. Activity didn't even bother looking at me. A microscopic bug might as well have strolled into the room.

“Volley, eh?” one of the two men I didn't recognize said. He seemed to be in good health, though grey hair peppered his brows and his fair skin bore enough wrinkles he might as well have been boiled, salted, and dried out in the sun. “This is the first time we are meeting.”

“I guess, Mister . . .”

“Husseini,” he said.

Pro-now expatiated. “Mr. Husseini is the commander of the Combat suits, Volley. The only other person you haven't met is Assistant Director Adom Kwarteng. He coordinates Intelligence.”

Compared to Mr. Husseini, Adom had more than enough good looks to spare. His pretty features got even prettier by way of a smile, and he leaned across Catherine, offering a wave. “Good evening, Volley.”

His words were tinged with an accent. One eerily similar to . . .

My eyes widened as he waggled his eyebrows at Catherine. They were both Ghanaian. Probably of some intimacy too.

“All that's left is Ballboss,” Rabidor muttered, placing heavy hands on the table.

“It's still seven minutes to six,” Catherine said. “Should I try calling him?”

“Let's give him some time,” Pro-now said. “He isn't the kind to be tardy.”

True to his claim, Ballboss arrived three minutes later. He dabbed at his sweaty scalp with a handkerchief and spoke in a tinny voice at odds with his physique. “Sorry, I’m late. I am still getting used to the layout.”

Pro-now gestured at a seat. “No harm done, Ballboss. You arrived just in time. Now, if we may begin?”

Bazaar raised a hand. “Are we getting an item seven? As in, you know, snacks? ‘Cos I skipped lunch just so I could eat an early dinner. I won't be able to concentrate if I don't get biscuits at least. Oh, and orange juice.”

Half the table shot her strange looks. Elixir stifled a laugh.

“The cafeteria will serve a hearty dinner when we are done,” Pro-now said. “I won't condone further interruptions.” He moved to the center of the screen, breathing heavily. “Let me begin by offering congratulations on today’s unveiling. The responses have come flooding in from the public, and they have been positive. The CAH stands a notch prouder because of your efforts.”

I waited for the other shoe to drop.

“As a consequence,” Pro-now continued, “the hard work begins in earnest. Our enemies aren't going to quit just because we hired cameramen and delivered a number of fancy speeches. They will ramp up their schemes, and we must strike to preempt them. We can’t afford to become reactionary.”

He clasped his hands in front of him. “Which brings us to the main issue of the day. Soldiers from the SRA Special Forces are in town, and they want our help—to deal with the Four-oh-Four.”

Murmurs broke out around the table.

Odim was first to speak. “What kind of help are we talking about?”

“Manpower, intelligence, resources,” Pro-now said. “They wish to establish a coalition.”

Odim's blank eyes narrowed. “I find the idea discomforting. The SRA is known for acting in bad faith. Nothing good will come from allying with them.”

“Odim's right,” Kabash said. “The Council’s experiences with government forces leave much to be desired. And that’s putting it lightly. The SRA is welcome to join the fray, but I’d rather we keep them at arm’s length.”

A few people nodded in agreement. Dia Mater frowned in her seat.

“The SRA’s methods won’t work against the Four-oh-Four,” Adom said, rubbing his chin. “Sure, the wild dogs are persistent. But we’ve seen firsthand how they respond to overwhelming force. They will use their affiliate gangs to soak up the damage while the main body diffuses beyond our reach. Our current method of dismantling them from within offers a much better outcome.”

“Better, you say?” Husseini snorted. “Tell that to the covert operatives who lost their lives in the last few months. The syndicate has managed to stay one step ahead of us. I’m fine with more direct action.”

“Direct action is seldom the best,” Ardent rumbled.

“I am sorry, sir,” Husseini said. “But I must disagree. It’s been two weeks since Agent Etim disappeared. At the rate we are going, the Four-oh-Four will be done with us before we are done with them.”

“Why the sudden interest in the Four-oh-Four?” Catherine asked, touching the scarf on her neck. “The syndicate has operated in Newtown for years without the SRA so much as batting an eyelid. Is this related to the Sagidi fire?”

Pro-now shook his head. “It is related to the Yan Magana.”

An ant could whisper in the silence that followed and everyone would hear it.

“Dia Mater,” Pro-now said, “can you fill us in?”

Dia Mater uncrossed her arms. “A few months ago,” she started, “Headquarters was alerted to the proliferation of terror cells in the South-West. These cells are young, clumsy, and easy to uproot. However, their tactics and organizational structures come straight from the Yan Magana’s playbook.” She stared down the table, expression grim. “We've long harbored suspicions that the cells are either dependent on the Yan or splintered from it. The SRA believes it to be the former.”

Adom frowned. “Where does the Four-oh-Four come in?”

“YamaYama,” Dia Mater said. “He is the Villain behind the violent takeover of the syndicate. Prior to his appearance, the Four-oh-Four never elevated Supers beyond the role of enforcers, with Boil being the sole exception. Since YamaYama’s rise to power, however, the Four-oh-Four has grown from strength to strength. Supers fill top positions in their inner circle, and all our efforts to uncover how he consolidated power has turned nothing productive.”

“Until today,” Pro-now said. “Colonel Tijani shared valuable intel with us of YamaYama's involvement with the terror cells trying to infiltrate our region. If her intel is accurate, YamaYama is connected to the Yan. The connection would explain how the syndicate consistently got around gun control. But worse than that, it could mean the Four-oh-Four is the first step in an asymmetrical war intended to consume the South.”

“Oh, hell no,” Kabash groaned.

“Beating the Four-oh-Four,” Pro-now said, “has become a matter of national urgency. The SRA suggests a joint assault on their core holdings. I am partial to that offer.”

“Wait a minute,” Elixir said, leaning forward in her chair. “You mentioned Colonel Tijani earlier. As in Colonel Fara Tijani. Scythe, right? Scythe the Hero Killer?”

Pro-now nodded. “That is correct.”

“Are you out of your mind? You can't tell me you’re unaware of the troubles she caused me!”

Pro-now stiffened. “I am aware. Which is why I called this meeting. I don’t intend to make the decision alone. We shall put it to a vote. Attacking the Four-oh-Four together with the SRA gives us a better chance of crippling their plans in the South-West. However, if you think we should continue our current approach, you can vote otherwise.”

“Do we get to vote too?” Activity asked.

“Of course,” Pro-now said. “You're members of the team, aren't you?”

Dia Mater rose, a grey box in her hands. “For the sake of the first-timers, let me emphasize that our voting process is an anonymous one. I will hand a slip of paper to everyone. Tick ‘yes’ if you support the joint assault, and ‘no’ if you don't. AV doesn't vote unless he is needed as a tie-breaker.”

I’d forgotten about AV. The enigmatic Super probably had permission to listen in just this once.

Kabash passed me a pen. I looked at the strip of paper, mulling over my options. The conflict in the North-West had been raging for years, long enough that reports of fatalities had become a part of normalcy. I knew nothing about war. About what it felt like to live in a constant state of fear and uncertainty, or to watch loved ones die.

Scythe was the lesser evil in that regard. And if working with her meant kids in the future grew up knowing none of the atrocities I was oblivious about, then it was a win in my book.

I ticked my answer.

A large part of me would never forget Sagidi too. Not the rooftops burning beneath a lurid sky. Or the frightened people screaming across smoke-filled streets.

Dia Mater collected all of the slips into the box and handed the latter to Pro-now.

“Neviecha,” Pro-now said, “if you would do the honors.”

“Me?” Neviecha stuttered.

“Why not? Come on up.”

Neviecha glanced around the table. “I don't think—”

“Are you going to take all day?” Rabidor growled from beside him. The feral Super had been restless so far. His demeanor oscillated between anger and impatience.

Neviecha scampered to the front of the table and picked up the box. He gulped and counted the votes, raising each one in the air for proof.

Those in favor of the joint assault numbered ten. Those opposing fell short at six.

Pro-now slapped his hands on the table. “It is decided then. I will contact the 716. Over the next few days, we will fine-tune the minutiae and draw up an action plan for our temporary coalition. A month from now, we will destroy the Four-oh-Four.”

Murmurs rose around the table again. Pro-now's masked features gave nothing away. But there had to be a catch.

He was lying. He knew a mole hid within our ranks. And whoever it was, they’d just played into his hands.