I reformed a few inches above the ground. Pieces of me combined into one whole, streaking from across the ether.

An eternity later, the reformation ended, and I thudded to the ground. The rest of the Heroes stumbled around me. We instantly moved into a defensive position, leaving Activity and Ballboss at the forefront.

Pro-now crouched and scanned our surroundings. “Clear. No sign of enemies.” He tapped his visor and read the info on the display. “Two seconds. The transition felt like hours.”

“That was only two seconds?” Kabash wheezed through his respirator.

I imitated Pro-now, dropping to a crouch. Someone sneezed off to my right. Not that I'd blame them. Sawdust coated the ground, but a stink managed to befoul the air. Rotted planks creaked beneath our feet, overlooking a wide body of water.

“I know these waters,” Ballboss said in a whisper. “It's the Lekki lagoon.”

“We'll figure out the details later,” Pro-now said. “For now, let's find some cover.”

We crossed the boards, moving inland at a glacial pace. The rotted planks creaked despite our best efforts, bobbing in tune with the water below. The full moon lit the grounds, but a vast majority of our surroundings sat shrouded in darkness.

Pro-now pointed at a gaping structure poised over the start of the pier. We huddled up beside it, keeping clear of its maw.

I sucked in a large breath, getting less than I expected into my lungs. Not even ten minutes and the world spun fiercely around me. No way I was fighting in this respirator.

“Any idea where we are yet?” Kabash asked.

“Yeah,” Activity said. “We're in the sawmills of Akinsete. The ones overlooking the lagoon.”

I raised an eyebrow. Okay, that was random. Not our location, but the fact that Toye knew enough to recognize it in the dark. Akinsete was a shanty town situated on Newtown's westernmost borders. It served as the heartbeat of the city’s timber industry and featured a respectable number of sawmills. I didn't know much more of it beyond that.

“He's right,” Pro-now said. “We’re in the mills.”

I coughed. “So, Elixir is somewhere around here? Hyperlink did say he could only teleport us to her general vicinity.”

Kabash looked around. “Rabidor would have been an asset on this mission.”

“He would have,” Pro-now agreed. “But it's in his best interests to avoid this completely. He's also a bad match for Bazaar.”

“Look, I don't doubt you often, but—”

“Not now, Kabash.”

Kabash nodded. “Right.”

Pro-now glanced at Ballboss.

The latter got the unspoken message and rose to his full height. “I guess I'm up then.”

Pro-now hummed. “How long will you take?”

“Thirty minutes,” Ballboss said. “That should be enough.” He stepped back and zipped into the ground, stretching like a roll of gum.

Harvest made a small noise at the sight.

I’d be surprised too if I hadn't grown disaffected with this lifestyle. Superpowers turned people into freaks, and I numbered among the freaks now in a band that coveted them.

Ballboss vanished into the floor. The wooden boards swelled, much like a rug would if a large rat crawled beneath it. The swelling traveled seamlessly from board to board. It climbed the walls of the facility and disappeared over the roof.

I sank into a squat, leaning against the building wall. Toads croaked around us, vying against the much louder crickets. Something about this mission unnerved me. And it wasn't in the way the mills seemed devoid of life. We'd appeared in a spot that put us out of sight of onlookers, giving us ample time to strategize and make plans of our own. It was perfect. Almost too perfect. And judging by Pro-now's rigid posture, he realized it too.

The rest of the group settled into crouches.

Minutes ticked by without any incident whatsoever. I looked out over the murky water, lost in the moon’s reflection. Exhaust’s mask shot out at me, and I jumped, only to realize I’d been spooked by a nylon bag.

Kabash cocked his head in inquiry. I feigned a cough.

Ballboss reappeared over the wall. The lump in the concrete flowed down to us, soundless in the airy night. It spaghettified in reverse this time and reformed into the portly Super.

Pro-now adjusted the sleek case on his back. “Twenty minutes. Not bad.”

Ballboss dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. “We’re not alone. The millhouse is teeming with guards. Ten of them, at the least. Most are armed with pistols, but I spotted a few shotguns. They are focused on the upper levels, guarding crates of some kind.”

“And the captives?” Pro-now asked.

“No sign of them yet. I didn't want to risk detection, but I have an idea where they might be. There are two more buildings situated near the front of the premises. Three and nine o’clock. The first is a staff lodge slash warehouse filled with sacks of woodchips. The second is an administrative building.”

“You think Elixir’s being held in the latter.”

“I’m almost certain of it. It's heavily guarded, and Manbite lurks in front of it along with another Super.”

“Then that's where we are headed,” Pro-now said. “Kabash, you brought the burner?”

“I’ve got it,” Kabash said.

“Text our coordinates to AV. Be sure to let him know the reinforcements shouldn't enter Akinsete until we've given the signal. They can mobilize around the outskirts.”

Kabash punched buttons on his phone.

“The rest of you,” Pro-now said, “double-check your gear. Our ideal goal is to grab the hostages and bail without being noticed. The all-out attack will commence upon the arrival of reinforcements.” He retrieved his baton from its sheath. “Realistically, we should prepare for the worst-case scenario. The Villains have Elixir somewhere nearby if Hyperlink is to be believed, but that leaves us with no confirmation of the two other captives. We also shouldn't dismiss the possibility that we are headed into a trap.”

“We probably are,” Activity muttered.

“To that end,” Pro-now said. “We’re splitting into teams. Ballboss, Volley, and I will extricate the captives. The rest of you are on standby. The moment I give the order on radio, you come charging in.” He paused. “Harvest, think you can handle this?”

She stuttered, “I do. Yeah.”

“Good. Volley, stand beside me.”

I moved beside the Hero. Ballboss stepped forward, gathering us into a hug.

Eh?

“Don't panic,” Pro-now said.

My vision stretched. A powerful force tugged me through space-time. I fell through the top layer of Ballboss’ skin and landed in a hollow sac, pressed up against Pro-now.

Yep. Band of freaks.

“I'm guessing I can talk?” I said, after a few heartbeats. My words reverberated around the chamber. It bounced off the membranous walls that kept us in place.

“You can,” Pro-now said, shifting away so his case stopped pressing against my ribs. The hollow sac rustled in a manner akin to nylon. “Ballboss' subspace is acoustically sealed. But the same goes for atmosphere. We’d want to breathe slowly to ensure we don't run out of air.”

I pushed against the sac wall, rustling it some more. “So, we are in an alternate dimension?”

“Yes and no. The pocket room is a product of space-time manipulation, but we are still in the real world. Space here is simply being created from nothing.”

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Outside, Ballboss moved at a steady pace. It generated a sensation not much different from traveling in a car—if the car had no wheels and was built to accommodate fetuses. I wasn't claustrophobic, but Pro-now hadn’t even bothered to ask.

“Why wasn't Rabidor allowed to come?”

“Conserve your breath, Volley,” Pro-now said.

“I'm already stuck in here. Without forewarning, I might add. The least you can do is answer something that’s been bothering me.”

Pro-now went silent. He sighed. “Someone close to Rabidor went missing. Voluntarily.”

Someone close to the Dog Hero? I only knew of one. The boy I had hurt with keys. If he was the same person Pro-now referred to, wasn't he a member of the syndicate? Ah . . .

“If you understand,” Pro-now said, “go easy on the thugs we meet today. It's the least you can do.”

Ugh. I hated having my words thrown back at me.

Ballboss came to a stop. Contact?

I waited with bated breath. Nothing happened, and we continued on the move.

I cleared my throat. “I'm guessing Ballboss can't hear or speak to us while we're in here.”

“He can't.”

“What happens to us if he dies?”

“Volley . . .”

“It's a valid question.”

“You're tense. I can tell. But you need to relax. You have many more years of service in you. Your story won’t end here.”

The sac contracted around us.

“Prepare for ejection,” Pro-now said, lifting his baton. “Once your feet find the ground, assess your surroundings before making any movements.”

I was still nodding when the walls collapsed. I fell through the slimy membrane into open space, landing firmly on my feet.

Catherine hung from the ceiling of a bright, dingy room, suspended by both arms. She wore an ashen expression, eyes brimmed with tears.

A bespectacled man stood below her, holding a scalpel aloft. He turned as we appeared, but Pro-now was faster. The baton flashed through the air, knocking the man flat on his face. Pro-now followed up with a chokehold.

I inched past the scuffle, making for Catherine. Her shirtsleeves hung shredded around her. Two strips of duct tape ran over her mouth, and blood stained the entirety of her clothing. So much blood, in fact—a puddle dried beneath her feet.

“Oh, Ms. Catherine,” I choked.

“Cut her down, Volley,” Pro-now said. The bespectacled man slumped in his grasp. He turned him over and snorted. “Crime lord Evans. Figures.”

That was Evans? Flames surged up my chest. What had he done to Catherine?

Pro-now bound the man with zip cuffs, then wound duct tape around his mouth for good measure.

I grabbed a nearby stool for elevation. Catherine grunted as I reached for her wrists. She shook furiously, kicking my shins.

“Pro-now,” Ballboss said in a quiet voice, “you should see this.”

A wardrobe sat in one corner of the windowless room, framing the wall. A bed lay next to it, filled with a single occupant. Said occupant was gagged, tied down, and dressed in plain clothes, but I had no doubts regarding her identity. A bunch of used syringes littered the ground, and a peripheral catheter extended from her arm to a blood bag placed on her chest.

Elixir stared at me, uttering a muffled scream.

I looked back at Catherine, noting the lack of visible wounds on her body despite being bathed in blood.

Pro-now breathed harshly. “Set her free, Ballboss. Volley, what the hell are you waiting for?”

Catherine bucked again, eyes wide with panic. She yapped through the duct tapes, stopping me from loosening her bonds.

“You have to promise me,” I said, meeting her gaze, “that you won't scream once I take this off. The enemy is still out there.”

Catherine nodded hard. Against my better judgment, I freed her mouth.

“Evans,” she gasped, without sucking a breath. “He's not just Evans. He's YamaYama!”

Pro-now raised his baton. The stool shot out from under me and slammed into his head. I hit the ground elbow first, barely muffling a scream.

The used syringes rose on the other end of the room. They skittered across the floor and sprung up at Ballboss. He absorbed them into his pocket dimension. He reached for Elixir, but the blood bag exploded in his face. He stumbled around in a drunken daze and missed the wardrobe pushing off the wall. Said wardrobe slammed into him.

I grabbed a shell, then abandoned the idea as a length of rope coiled around my neck. I got my fist between the noose in time, but it snapped backward and threw me into a wall.

Evans stumbled to his feet. The zip cuffs slithered off him like a live snake followed by the length of duct tape. His dislodged spectacles shimmied up his leg, utilizing both handles for motion.

“Well, that was unpleasant,” Evans said, snatching up his glasses. “It is bad manners to hit people from out of nowhere.”

Pro-now wrestled with the stool which bore down on him like a small dog. He kicked it across the room, and then without missing a beat, he tossed his baton at Evans.

Evans ducked. The baton hit the wall and reoriented itself. It dove electric tip-first for Pro-now.

I missed what happened next because the noose drew tighter around my neck. It whipped upward, pulling me to the ceiling.

Knife! I had a knife.

Ballboss smashed through the wardrobe, making a beeline for Evans. The wardrobe fell apart. Clothes, boots, and random articles flew after Ballboss, intent on smothering the Hero.

I grabbed the knife from the back of my bandolier with my free hand and swept it across the rope. It snapped, and I fell on my face. I pulled the remnant off me, moving the knife to the front of my vest.

Ballboss absorbed the missiles flying around him. He charged at Evans and collided instead with an electric fan.

“No,” Pro-now said, vaulting off the murderous stool. “Leave Evans to me. Grab the others!”

Ballboss turned on a dime—faster than a man his size should manage. He dove for Elixir, but her bed creaked and shunted out of the way. It darted across the floor at an alarming speed, breaking its rollers. Metal legs found purchase in the wall. The bed sallied up the room like a thing possessed, keeping Elixir strapped onto its surface.

For one horrible moment, Elixir locked gazes with me. She screamed into her gag, eyes bulging out of her face.

Ballboss lunged again for her, but the electric fan came back around, clubbing him over the head.

Pro-now punched Evans. The Villain bounced off the ground, losing his spectacles a second time.

I moved to join in.

The outermost wall exploded. Brick, plaster, and electrical wiring flooded the room, whipping me senseless.

“We'll continue this later,” Evans hissed through his ruined jaw. He grabbed the bedframe, and the bizarre creation scuttled out of the hole into the open.

“No,” Pro-now yelled, throwing a dagger.

Evans disappeared into the night.

Further down the building, a bunch of shouts resounded.

“Kabash,” Pro-now spat into his transmitter. “Kabash. This is Pro-now. Over!”

“Pro-now, this is Kabash. Over.”

“YamaYama’s here,” Pro-now barked. “YamaYama is Evans. He has Elixir on a mobile bed and is racing for the exit. Proceed to intercept! Over.”

“Pro-now, this is Kabash. YamaYama is Evans. He is escaping with Elixir, and I must intercept. Wilco.”

“Roger. Pro-now, out.”

“I'll go after Evans,” Ballboss said, once the transmission ended.

“No,” Pro-now replied. “Grab Ms. Catherine.”

“If she's within me, I won't be able to defend myself.”

The yells from outside drew closer.

“You’re her best chance of getting out of this alive,” Pro-now said. “Get her to safety then come back to help us. We'll stop YamaYama.”

Ballboss grunted. The items he'd absorbed clattered out of him. Catherine had come free during YamaYama's final attack. She lay at an angle, whimpering in the dark. Ballboss gathered her up into his belly.

“You guys—” he started.

“Go!” Pro-now said.

The thickset Super merged into the ground. The resulting lump receded out of the makeshift window.

“We should have taken Catherine,” I said, limping up to Pro-now. “Ballboss would've had an easier time following after Elixir.”

“YamaYama's an Arbiter,” Pro-now said. “If my guess is right, he possesses the ability to animate non-living things. Ballboss can't fight him alone. And both of us would find it difficult to escape while protecting Catherine. This is the best way.” He undid the straps on his metal case. “Can you still fight?”

I patted myself down. The last attack had thrown me off my feet, but my costume had absorbed most of the damage. More than anything else, my arms juddered at the heinous events I’d witnessed. “Yes.”

“Good.” Pro-now opened the case. A gun waited inside, disassembled into neat pieces.

“You told me to go easy,” I said.

“Plastic bullets. And I'm not an amateur, Volley. I know how to use this in nonlethal ways.” He grabbed the pieces of the gun, shoving them together. “Armed thugs are coming up the stairs. Nine o'clock. Think you can stop them?”

I walked up to the door and kicked it open. Bullets smattered its side, tearing holes through the wood. I slapped the door, and it blasted down the hallway. Screams rose in tandem with the sound of broken bones.

More thugs raced up the stairs. I loosed two shells at the first ones to cross the u-bend, knocking them over. The rest stayed out of sight, firing erratic shots. I ducked behind the wall and considered dropping the banister over their heads.

Footsteps broke the sound of gunfire. An imposing man with a calabash-shaped facial tattoo clanked up the stairs. I took one look at his powerful build and heavy boots. Then he started running, straight for me.

“Hostile incoming,” I yelled. “Possible Super.”

Pro-now appeared behind me, carbine at the ready. “Sleeves to ears, Volley!”

I covered my ears with my arm sleeves and hunched down to a knee. Gunfire rattled, brightening the hallway. None of the bullets struck home. They perished inches away from the Villain as though stopped by an invisible shield.

Pro-now cursed and holstered his weapon. He tugged me into the room. “We can’t beat him here. Move.”

To where? The only route left was the gaping hole Evans had blown in the wall. But that hole sat atop a three-story building. Sure, Supers were supposed to be resilient, but I wasn’t about to take chances.

“How—” I started.

Pro-now leaped off, pulling me in tow. His grapple hook snagged a pipe, and we bounced down to the ground, managing the journey in one piece.

The mill had devolved into a scene of chaos. Gunshots resounded across the grounds, punctuated by the screams of the wounded. A row of giant corals rose in the distance only to run into a line of trees.

Tattoo-face jumped out of the hole above us, not even bothering to break his fall. We scattered, and he missed us by inches, landing in a cloud of dust.

Pro-now tossed a grenade.

Fire and light went off beneath the Villain, but he surged unharmed from the smoke. He rushed forward, spear-hand pointed at my chest. I dived out of the way and slapped the ground with my power.

The tactic worked. Sand streaked toward the Villain, enveloping him in a stream. They vanished upon contact with his shield, but the residual dust forced him to dither.

Pro-now tossed a second grenade. Brown gas, illuminated by moonlight, engulfed the Villain.

The gas didn't make it through my respirator, but the same could also be said for the Villain’s shield. Tattoo-face rushed forward again, and I repeated my sand wave tactic.

Pro-now mumbled to himself. “Matter distortion field. Cancels out forces, shockwaves, and even tiny molecules. Can be adjusted to allow select things through.”

Matter distortion? Wasn't that dangerous?

The surviving thugs poured out of the building in a commotion, guns held aloft.

“Shut your eyes,” Pro-now warned.

I did as he commanded right as a flashbang went off. The gangsters screamed, unprepared for the sudden assault.

Tattoo-face didn’t relent. This time, he went after Pro-now, judging him to be the bigger threat.

Pro-now backpedaled, unloading his gun.

A dense forest erupted in the direction of the millhouse, tangling with a fence of corals. Manbite swung through the trees, silvery in the moonlight.

I chased after Pro-now. He danced around Tattoo-face, dodging the latter’s attacks with a series of hairbreadth escapes.

“Stay far back, Volley,” Pro-now warned. “I'll handle this.”

Tattoo face chortled. “By running? You can't run forever.” He sneered through another hail of bullets. “Nothing you do can harm me.”

“Maybe,” Pro-now said, holstering his gun. “But I've met invulnerable people. There’s something you do that they don’t.” He fired his grappling hook and zipped to the top of the building:

“You wear armored boots.”

A trio of planted bombs blinked around Tattoo-face.

I was still backpedaling when they exploded, turning the world to dust.