“I guess I'm sitting this one out,” Neviecha said, jogging up to my side.

“Wish I could sit it out,” I muttered. “I'll be having nightmares about Exhaust for weeks.”

“But you won,” Neviecha said, looking down at his feet. “You won, and I lost. I let Bazaar get taken. She was standing there with the collar on, and I got my ass handed to me on a platter. Some Hero, huh?”

Why was he always so hard on himself?

“Hey, man,” I said. “Stop doing that. You faced some pretty mean Villains without the Habakkuk to help. Most people don't have your courage.”

“You'd have done better,” he said, a sullen look on his face. “You always do better.”

How?!

I didn't get to counter. Activity stalked past at that moment, poisoning the air around him with malice. I held my breath and moved out of the way, letting the bastard pass.

“What's his problem this time?” Neviecha asked.

“Beats me,” I said. But it didn't. I was the one. I was his problem.

The weight of the kitchen knife dug into my back.

“Volley,” a small voice called. Harvest stood behind me, a pensive look etched on her face. She fingered her curls, stuttering her next words. “Can you spare a minute?”

“We only have thirty,” I said.

“I won't take more than a minute of your time. I promise.”

I glanced at Neviecha. He squinted at us through lidded eyes, shrugged, and jogged on ahead.

“What do you want?” I said, eager to get a move on.

“Not here,” Harvest said, ducking into the building.

I followed after her, urging myself to be patient.

We entered a scene of complete disarray. Deep gouges marred the foyer, highlighting ashen rings left by chemical explosions. The front desk lay shattered, covered in a coating of red. Pieces of machinery crunched beneath our feet. A breeze blew into the complex from three man-sized holes punched into the walls.

A couple of the standing banners stood intact, but the rest had fallen, torn asunder in the fighting. Dia Mater's, in particular, hung tattered, sporting a hole through the chest.

The Four-oh-Four didn't need to go that far.

Harvest led me to a corner of the hall and stopped “You're friends with Ava, right?”

Eh. “More or less.”

She nodded, rubbing her hands. “Um, I know you might not believe me, but there's no better time than now to say this. I don't hate you guys, Volley. Ava and I did not always see eye to eye, but she's still my teammate. I vow to do my best to save her.”

“Right. And what's the catch?”

Harvest shook her head. “No catch. I'm just unhappy with the way things have turned out. We're supposed to be teammates, yet half the time, we claw at each other's throats. I'm willing to make concessions if you are.”

I shoved my hands into my pockets. “I’m not the problem. You know exactly who splintered the team.”

“Toye didn't—”

“I'm willing to be honest if you are.”

Harvest peeked at me from beneath her bangs. “Did you really order a giant rat to eat him?”

“No.”

“Are you certain? Because Toye’s dead sure you did.”

“Toye's dead sure about a lot of things. None of them right.”

Harvest's expression changed. “You're doing it again.”

“What?”

“That. Looking down on Toye.”

“I certainly don't look up to him, if that's what you mean.”

Harvest sighed. “Look, Toye doesn't . . . Toye is . . .” She paused. “Toye is an orphan. For the longest time, he had no one to look out for but himself. You can’t imagine how rough he’s had it.”

“I doubt he's exceptional in that regard,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“He is. You won't understand. But he is.” She stopped rubbing her hands. “The stuff he's had to deal with. The stuff he saw out there today . . . Let's just say, there is a reason he doesn't easily warm up to people. I can help bridge the gap between him and the rest of you. But it won't work if you keep seeing him as the enemy.”

Her eyes burned with conviction, but they failed to draw attention away from the tremor in her arms. She was scared. Scared of failing after drumming up the courage to broach this topic with me.

But did that mean I had to agree?

I hated Toye. No point lying to myself about it. Toye probably hated me too. In an ideal world, I’d see reason in her words and bury the hatchet for the sake of the team. However, Toye had threatened me with murder. How the heck could I feel safe around him?

Harvest glimpsed my visage and shrank back an inch. She shuffled her feet. “Volley, I know I’m making a difficult request. And I know Toye doesn't make things easy. If you could just be nicer to him on the mission today—especially now that he’s going through a rough patch—I'm sure he would become less hostile in the—”

“Okay,” I said.

Harvest’s eyes widened. “Okay?”

“Sure,” I added with a shrug. “I promise not to exacerbate the situation. But you have to promise to keep him in line.”

“I will. I . . .” she heaved. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Volley.”

Aww. Wasn't that peachy?

The discussion had shaved off more time than we’d anticipated so we scurried to the northernmost end of the hall. The elevator had survived the turmoil, and it dropped down swiftly to the Pacesetter base. We stopped short on the catwalk at the sight of new additions to the décor.

“Are those corals?” Harvest asked, eyeing the jagged rows of stone.

“Yeah,” I grunted. “Cnidarian's handiwork.”

Neviecha's walker, the Amos, lay in a heap by the exit, surrounded by the signs of battle. How many Villains had he tried to take on by himself?

“She's a Queen, isn't she?” Harvest said. “Like me?”

“Should be. Corals are living things, aren’t they?”

“They are. Sessile animals. Do you think I can take her?”

Well, that was an interesting question. Harvest had the most destructive power in the Newtown Council, outside of Dia Mater. She lacked a spine though, and spines were what victories were made of. Cnidarian would wipe the floor with her, but it wouldn’t do to deflate her confidence before a mission this big.

“You’d win,” I said, picking my words, “if you were going all out.”

“Oh.”

“This isn’t a matter of oh, Harvest. I've fought these guys. They won't hesitate to go for the kill. You'd have to match that ferocity if you intend to come out on top—or alive, at the very least. Remember what Kabash says?”

She steeled her jaw. “No one superpower grants a sure win.”

“Exactly. The individual is more important. See you back at the surface?”

“Y-yeah.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

We split ways at the dorms.

Mom had rung me up a few times while I’d been away. I left her a message and proceeded to the bathroom, peeling off my gaiter. The cold water centered me as it splashed over my face. I looked in the mirror, blinking past the droplets on my lashes.

This was it, wasn't it?

The mission. The biggest one I had yet undertaken. I’d completed a trial by actual fire twice, and the time had come to check if the casting was brittle.

To be honest, I looked brittle. My eyes sat sunken in my head, and gas masks peeked out of the shadows, accompanied by scurrying rats. I could use some sleep and some time alone to heal, but life hardly ever played fair.

Everything I did here . . . It was all for the sake of my family, right?

I returned to the meeting point within the allotted time. Everyone else had arrived before me. A somber mood filled the clearing as we distributed helmets and checked our gear. Everyone made last-minute preparations.

Neviecha held out a case to me. “Ammunition. Catherine supplied boxes of them while you were in the med bay.”

“Thanks.” I opened the case. “I don't suppose you tricked them out with explosives or something fancy, like turning into bolas on impact?”

“What?” Neviecha said, snorting. “Although, now that you mention it, that's not a bad idea. The explosive thing, that is, not the bolas. You can fire warheads without the need for a launcher.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, filling the sheaths on the bandolier with shells. “I still think bolas are cool though.”

“You're welcome to take the Amos’ vortex cannon if you think you can hoist it.”

I snapped the ammunition case closed. “Create a personal mecha for me, and I’d take you up on that offer.”

“Haha,” Neviecha said.

Pro-now cleared his throat. He’d switched his visor to transparent mode again and carried a sleek metal case on his back. “Preparations are finalized,” he said. “Dia Mater will assume command of Assault Team Alpha. Rabidor and Odim with her . . .”

Rabidor didn't say a word, but his silence was as loud as his bark.

“. . . The rest of you,” Pro-now continued, “will join me in Rescue Team Zeta. While A Team A subdues No Light and restores normalcy to Domo, R Team Z will attack the syndicate and rescue our captured operatives.” He nodded at my teammate. “Neviecha, you're on standby. Coordinate with AV and help out in any way you can to restore the base to full capacity.”

“Yes, sir,” Neviecha said.

Pro-now nodded his approval. “There is no easy way to say this. Most of you are still licking your wounds from the harrowing ordeal you encountered. I am asking you to jump back into the fray without consideration for your wellbeing. It's madness, I know. But I want you to understand”—his tone sharpened—“I will make this choice all over again for every single one of you. The CAH doesn't abandon its own.”

He signaled to Dia Mater, and the latter moved to the front of the group.

She clapped her palms. Six metal discs—the size of tea saucers—rose in the air behind her.

“I don't have much to add,” Dia Mater said. “We've all done this dance before. Just look out for each other and ensure you return in one piece. The CAH has suffered a big blow today, but that only counts for something if we let ourselves stay down. We won’t.”

“We won’t,” we repeated.

A wet wind punctured our words, howling in from the direction of the training field.

“Assault team Alpha,” Dia Mater said. “Move out.”

Rabidor and Odim complied. They followed after her toward the southern exit, joined by a squad of Combat suits. Two armored vehicles waited beside the corals. One sat equipped with an array of rocket launchers. I’d seen similar vehicles on the internet. Something called a katyusha?

“Radios on,” Pro-now ordered. “But don't bother depending on them. We’ve confirmed that the Four-oh-Four has access to advanced jamming technology. We’ll keep communication light and simple. If that fails, we’ll go radio silent. Operate in pairs as a precaution.”

Ardent stepped forward, tossing a duffel bag to the ground.

“Respirators,” Pro-now said before any of us could ask. “If you have face gear, take those off and use these instead.”

“Respirators?” Harvest squawked.

“The Four-oh-Four attacked with those on,” Neviecha said. “All three of them I saw, at least.”

The gears turned in Activity's head. “This is a measure to combat Bazaar. You’re implying she's a traitor.”

“She's not,” I snapped, even though I didn’t believe my words. Activity was the last person I wanted to hear disparage her.

“We don't know for certain,” Pro-now said. “One traitor has been taken into custody, but Bazaar's relationship with the Four-oh-Four is complicated. She has connections with some members of the syndicate. And that's a risk we are unwilling to take. If we go in unprepared, she could decimate our entire team.”

“Sounds like a traitor to me,” Activity said, reaching for a mask.

Harvest snuck a glance at me. “Surely, you don’t mean—”

“We aren’t certain she is,” I said.

“She always acted like one,” Activity countered.

Pro-now interrupted the exchange. “This isn’t about Bazaar alone. We have reason enough to also be wary of Catherine. Proceed with caution. We will determine on arrival if all three are being held against their will. Assuming we find them.”

I pressed my lips into a line and grabbed a respirator. The model was built half-face. Two chemical cartridges elongated backward into powered filters.

“This will block out her pheromones?” I asked.

“We can only hope,” Pro-now said, switching out the cartridges on his respirator. “The chemicals Bazaar synthesizes are a complex mix of organic molecules. We've isolated a few in our labs. However, she's the worst kind of Rook. The kind with a specialty at the microcellular level.” He finished adjusting his mask. “These respirators contain cartridges that counteract some of her compounds. We believe they are effective since the syndicate came equipped with similar. But I can't vouch for their performance in the field. They are only prototypes.”

“They’ll work,” Ardent interjected. “But preliminary test results indicate that Bazaar can saturate each filter within thirty minutes. At her lowest.”

“That sounds bad,” I said.

Ardent shrugged, as concise as ever.

Pro-now helped Ballboss with his straps. “The filters turn a bright red when saturated. That's your signal to get out of dodge. The fans are powered by an internal battery and would help breathing come easier. Don't expect them to last for more than a few hours though.”

I adjusted my helmet and strapped the respirator to my face. My air supply dropped. I’d have registered a complaint if something else didn’t bother me.

“Hold on,” I said aloud, “You’re telling me that the CAH just had this lying around in wait to use against Bazaar?”

“Yes,” Pro-now said. “It's a contingency in case she ever went rogue.”

“Do you have contingencies for me too?”

Kabash patted my shoulder on his way to the bag. “If we ever needed to stop you, Volley, we'd simply procure a gun.”

“Ouch.”

“If everyone is ready,” Pro-now said, “I’d like to get moving. Neviecha, you are dismissed. Ardent, please lead the way.”

I turned to Neviecha and held up a fist.

He bumped it, though the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

I threw him a mock salute and strode off after my team.

Colonel Tijani waited in the parking lot, surrounded by a small guard of Combat suits.

Waited was a bit of an understatement. She sat in a three-walled container of Dia Mater’s design at a desk made from the same dark sheet of metal.

A bottle of water had been provided for her, but it stood untouched on the desk. She looked up as we approached, anger written all over her features.

“You continue to insult me, Pro-now,” she said. “All I did was offer my hand in aid.” The electronic collar blinked silently around her neck.

“You will be free the instant we return,” Pro-now said.

“And if you don't.”

“Then pray that things end up looking like we failed and not like we were misled.”

“You hear that, Hyperlink?” Colonel Tijani rasped. “The CAH wants us to take responsibility for their ineptitude.”

Hyperlink looked up from his spot opposite the Colonel. He'd been asleep or feigning it, but there was no feigning the disinterest on his face. He was short, much shorter than Neviecha, and dressed in the same military armor as All Mine, save for the full-face helmet. Freckles dotted his gaunt face, offset by a camouflage eye mask.

“Six of them, eh?” he mumbled.

“Should be within your limits,” Colonel Tijani said.

Hyperlink fingered the collar on his neck. “I need them to huddle together.”

“We'll depower the collar for thirty seconds,” Pro-now said. “That should be sufficient.”

“Don't try anything funny,” Ardent warned. “The explosive won't be depowered.”

“I really don't care,” Hyperlink said with a yawn. “Just group up because I can only do this once.”

“You've memorized Elixir's features?” Kabash asked. “How exactly does all of this work?”

Hyperlink blinked at him. “It just does.”

“Hyperlink,” Colonel Tijani said, tone threatening. “Tell them what they need to know.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The boy sat up in his chair. He directed his next words to us. “My power is pretty simple, you see. I study someone, and then I can feel them across the globe. Not their location, no. I can't figure out where they are. However, I can sense they exist.”

He hummed, tapping his chin. “The feeling is comparable to standing in a storm in a silk sweater strung up by kites. All of the kites are tugged in different directions by the winds, but each of them remains attached to me. In the case of your Elixir: if I close my eyes and focus hard on her face, her kite enlarges. Her thread becomes something like a reel? It can pull me or anyone I send in its direction. It's really no big.”

“Then why can't we wait a few more minutes?” I asked. “With your power, you can find her whenever.”

“I can sense her whenever,” Hyperlink said. “But the kite enlarges when prodded. That increase represents the general position of my target in space-time. The farther away it is, the larger the kite becomes. If I tried porting to someone in Brooklyn, New York, for example, I would either land halfway in the Atlantic or overshoot and crash in Anchorage.”

Pro-now adjusted his case. “The Colonel informed me that you can teleport us out of sight of onlookers.”

“Well, yeah,” Hyperlink said. “I can sense the approximate positions of people. I’ll try to dump you somewhere clear enough. But even if Elixir was one street over, I still cannot do more than teleport you to her general vicinity. Whether that's a gutter or halfway into a wall is not my problem.” He sneered. “Though, to be honest, I wish you'd land in some bottomless ditch. That alone should halve our problems.”

Activity laughed. “Glad to see the SRA has its fair share of clowns.”

Hyperlink laughed too. “Your mother is a clown.”

I didn't see Activity move.

Kabash did and grabbed Activity before he could tackle the younger boy. They broke out into a fierce struggle—fierce enough that Ballboss joined in.

“Activity,” Pro-now said softly. “Control yourself.”

What a freaking mess. I could see now why All Mine had been reluctant to have me watch her back. A teammate whose head wasn’t in the game could prove more dangerous than a truckload of enemies.

“You're an ass,” I said to Hyperlink. “Sure, it's fun to be mouthy. But those military colors won't save you from a beating.”

“I'm a Knight,” Hyperlink said. “A Special Warrant Officer, Knight-class. I don't need anyone to save me.”

“I guess you have the shining armor criterion locked down, eh?”

“You get,” he said, tapping his breastplate.

Colonel Tijani sighed. “Send the Council Supers going, boy. Now.”

“Yes, ma,” Hyperlink said. He jumped down the container and latched onto my arm. “Everyone, grab this dude here.”

“Ardent, depower his collar,” Pro-now said. “Activity. That is enough.”

Activity deflated. He gasped in ragged spurts, pinned to the ground by Kabash and Ballboss.

“Let him go,” Pro-now said.

Both men relinquished their hold.

Activity stumbled to his feet. He mumbled an apology and grabbed my shoulder, gait unsteady. The others followed suit.

Ardent tapped a code on the tablet Pro-now had been using. “Done.”

The lights on Hyperlink's collar went off.

“This will be unpleasant,” Hyperlink said.

“How unpleasant?” I started.

The words died in my throat.

A pressure like nothing I’d felt before unloaded in my brain. It rose until it became a literal force pushing against my skull.

“Fuck,” I managed.

My head burst open, and I splintered into millions of tiny fragments.