“So The General is looking for us?” Dark Fire asks me.

Little Voices and I are standing in Dark Fire’s office. Behind his desk is a small window overlooking the three long cannons on the Cerberus’ deck, and beyond them I can see endless gray waves. I have no idea where in the world we are, and I wonder if Dark Fire has taken the ship south like he was warned.

“That’s what Quiet Killer said. Do you think he is telling the truth?” Little Voices said.

“Probably. He isn’t one to take sides, or to play politics. And we do have something The General wants. More important, however, is that he has something I want. How do you boys feel about taking on the world’s most powerful superhero team?”

I wasn’t entirely surprised; this clash of teams was a long time in the making.

“I didn’t have any plans for this weekend… or the future,” I said, trying to stay calm.

“Good. Never Lies and Past Prime are working on a strategy for taking down the Elite, but it won’t be easy. We still need a really big hitter like Simon Smith if we want to be sure we can do this.”

After lunch – a six–course meal that ends in pastries – Never Lies grabs my elbow and pulls me out of the dining room. She has a firm grip and won’t answer any of my questions.

“Are you okay?” she demands.

“Okay?” I ask stupidly.

“Yes. Are you okay? Are you sleeping properly? Are you healthy?”

Her concern is concerning, and unexpected. I feel dangerously worn out, and I need a three month holiday. I haven’t talked to my father or Stacey in weeks, and I’m always thinking about the next saucer attack, and whether it will be my last.

“Um… I’m about the same as I’ve ever been,” I joke, but I suppose I’m also telling the truth.

She stares at me with her piercing blue eyes that seem to cut me to my core. I wonder if she knows more about how I am than even I do. Never Lies holds my gaze for an unsettling period of time and I eventually look down at my feet.

“I’m tired,” I admit.

“Yes. We all are. This way,” she says, leading me down into the huge gym.

I have a bad feeling that she’s going to put me through another punishing workout, but we walk right past the climbing wall and other instruments of training through torture. The gym is mostly empty because the hospital is mostly full. Two unfamiliar superheroes are standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by crew dressed in various colors that I recognize as general stewards, technicians, medical staff and so on. They scatter as we approach, leaving the superheroes standing alone. One is over six foot tall with black hair; the other a little shorter with dark brown hair, green eyes and freckles. They both have the rock–solid confidence of experienced superheroes and are chatting to each other like old friends. They are also wearing shock collars and the way they are smiling makes me wonder if they know what the collars are for.

They walk up to us as we arrive and smile.

“Two new recruits,” Never Lies says without enthusiasm.

“I’m Storm Blade,” the taller one says.

I recognize the name – this was the super who disobeyed Firestorm Commando in our last fight. He doesn’t seem to recognize me.

“No–one cares who you used to be,” Never Lies snaps, “for now you are Rookie One and Rookie Two. We’ll give you new names if you survive long enough.”

I can see that ruffles Storm Blade’s pride, which is probably why Never Lies does it.

“I’m no rookie, lady. I’ve been a superhero for six years now, and I like my name. I won’t be changing it,” Storm Blade protests.

“I hated my old name, so I’ll change,” his friend says, trying to break the tension.

“Shut up, rookies, no–one cares what you want. Ask a steward to take you to the armory; your shift starts now.”

“Don’t talk to us like that!”

Never Lies sighs and touches a button on her data pad – the two rookies fall over, clutching the collars around their necks as electricity burns and sparks over their skin. I shake my head as the rookies get up again and try to rush Never Lies, and she shocks them into submission. I remember my first day, and I do not envy them the steep learning curve coming their way. Never Lies watches as the two new superheroes have a hushed argument.

“You guys will never win an argument with Never Lies, so you may as well do as she says right now,” I say.

“You are Never Lies?” Storm Blade says in surprise, suddenly respectful.

“Yes. Is that going to be a problem for you?”

“No ma’am. We’ll just… be going, then.”

The two rookies shuffle off obediently and Never Lies very nearly smiles.

“Your reputation works better than a shock collar,” I say.

“Whatever. You better get to the armory, too, because Past Prime has requested you to babysit the rookies.”

I start to walk off but she catches my arm again and gives me another of her terrifying looks.

“Watch yourself, Danger Magnet. These two rookies came from Blizzard Master, but I don’t know if we can trust them. Take this.”

She throws me the control to the shock collars, and I slip it into a drawer in my prosthetic hand.

The rookies have brought their own armor along. Storm Blade – now Rookie One – is in black armor with silver lightning bolts splashed across it. He has a plasma gun on his left arm and a plasma sword on his back. His friend, Rookie Two, has a golden suit and two enormous Gatling–gun platforms that follow him around. Both sets of armor have the scrapes and scorch marks that show they have seen action, which is something of a relief. Past Prime is already there and in his armor, but it looks like he’s sleeping inside his helmet.

Never Lies was right; we are all tired. We need these rookies to fill out the team roster.

Storm Blade doesn’t say anything when I put my armor on, although I know he must recognize me. He strikes me as the strong silent kind. Rookie Two is a lot more talkative.

“So, the Dark Fire and the Cerberus Brawlers? Right on, right on. I thought both those things were just rumors until the day of the red saucer. I never thought I’d get to join, but Blizzard Master sent me here.”

“Yeah? Why was that?”

“She just thought I’d benefit from a different style of training, that’s all.”

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

“Try again,” I say, not believing him.

“Well, maybe I’m also a little… trigger happy. I think I may have shot a couple of my team a little bit.”

“May have? A little bit?” I ask, smiling.

“Well, okay, I accidently shot two teammates and took them out, so I was stripped of my rank and sent here. There’s no need to rub it in, okay?”

“Don’t worry; we are all screw ups here. As long as you do the job, no one cares why you ended up here.”

Our chat is broken up by an alarm – a saucer, this time threatening a NASA research facility. I sigh and strap myself into one of the bullet–pods as the ship swings itself towards its target. Past Prime wakes up and waves the two rookies towards the pods beside me. They look confused.

“Why are you guys getting into those things? Aren’t we taking a Comet?”

“The pods are faster. The ship shoots them out like bullets, and we get to where we need to be in minutes. Or close to where we need to be, at least. It’s not an exact science,” I reply.

“Aren’t you worried that something will go wrong and you will get shot right into the side of a mountain or something?” Rookie Two asks.

I think about it for a second.

“Every time, rookie, every single time. Now get in the damn pod.”

The NASA facility is already safe by the time we get there; the saucer has veered off towards a forest. A storm is breaking and the air is heavy with rain that whips over us in heavy sheets.

We can’t find the saucer.

Apparently it’s hiding high in the thick clouds, which is unusual behavior for a saucer, and a little concerning. It could be anywhere in the storm, near or far, and we wouldn’t know.

“I hate it when saucers try new things,” complains Rookie Two, and I have to agree with him.

“I’ve seen this before... it’s a special kind of saucer. We need to get above the storm,” decides Past Prime.

“What kind of special saucer?” I ask.

“Small, with big guns but bad shields. Should be easy enough.”

“Famous last words,” Rookie Two mutters.

We fly upwards, and it becomes pretty clear that the new rookies are a lot faster than I am. Rookie One grabs my arm and hauls me upwards without commenting, while Rookie Two scouts ahead. I have to admit they are a good team.

From above, the clouds look like a landscape of twisted ice and snow. We search for a desperate hour before the saucer’s top comes sliding out of a cloud and into view.

“There!” Rookie One shouts, grabbing my arm.

The saucer starts shooting at us the very instant we fly towards it. Past Prime pushes me forward and I extend my shields to cover the whole group. Rookie One tries to fly past me, but the saucer catches him in the chest with a plasma bolt and throws him backward.

A pair of hydra–bats comes screaming out of the clouds and Rookie Two shoots them down with his Gatling guns. Rookie One flies up behind me and starts shooting plasma bolts all around as cloudwraithes and demonwings flock towards us. The saucer bombards my shields. I form a huge disc of overlapping pink scales that absorb most of the saucer’s attacks with no problem.

I’ve come a long way from my first superhero battle, and now I’m a useful part of the team.

We land, and I set the bomb while the others defend me from the swarm of creatures trying to eat us alive. I power the bomb up, but it doesn’t work. I play with some of the switches with no result, and then I call for help.

“The bomb is broken,” Past Prime says flatly.

The bomb is broken? The bomb is broken? That’s never happened before, and I have no idea what to do about it.

“They have a timer we can try,” Past Prime adds.

A huge airsnake charges at us and Past Prime cuts it in half with one of his spinning blades. It slams into the hull beside me, but I don’t even notice. We pass out of the clouds and into the open blue sky, heading towards a port town full of boats and civilians.

I check the timer – it’s also broken.

“No timer, and no time to call for reinforcements,” I say.

There is a lull in the fighting, and Rookie One and Rookie Two come over to investigate the bomb.

“What’s taking so long?” Rookie Two asks.

“The bomb’s trigger is broken.”

“They have a timer, too.”

“It’s also broken, okay?”

We think about this. Someone needs to set the bomb off manually, or everyone in the port town is going to die. No–one volunteers to sacrifice themselves, but someone is going to have to.

“What about your artificial hand?” asks Rookie One.

“What?” I ask in surprise.

“What if we use your artificial hand to trigger the explosion?”

I hadn’t thought of that, but it’s a good idea. Rookie Two helps me pull the arm of my suit off and I place my artificial hand on the trigger. We program it to pull the trigger sixty seconds after we leave, and then fly like hell as the saucer explodes around us.

The saucer crashes on the outskirts of the port town, and we spend a long day chasing up its deadly cargo of flying monsters. Some get away during the hunt, but the town is safe, or as safe as anywhere can be these days. Eventually, Dark Fire calls off the hunt and sends a Comet for us.

“We’ll sleep well tonight,” Rookie Two says with some satisfaction.

But I haven’t slept well since the day Simon Smith died, and I have nightmares about being stuck in the gun labs while some unseen beast tracks me through the shadows. I wake up fully dressed screaming, with my new artificial hand melted by a terrible heat I have no memory of.

Three days later we have an induction ceremony for the two rookies, renaming them Not Stupid and Trigger Happy. The two rookies have proven that they belong and that they can be trusted. They received their tat–a–guchis and became part of the reduced team, the small family that is all that remains of the Cerberus Brawlers. We eat hamburgers on the deck overlooking the ocean and talk at great length about nothing at all. It’s a good night, but that night I have the worst nightmares of my life.

It starts with a whisper that quickly becomes a million soft voices demanding me to move, to walk, to do as I am told immediately. I find myself walking down a corridor deep inside the ship’s belly, into a dark room with a bright light at its center. I touch the light and it shocks me, waking me up.

I fall to my knees as I wake, and I have no idea where I am. The room is dark, with a table at its center. On the table is a jar, but it’s not glowing like it was in my dream.

“Where am I?” I say aloud.

The lights turn on and blind me.

“I guess this means I was right, the alien head is calling to him just like it used to call Simon Smith,” says Dark Fire from behind me.

“Perhaps. What of it?”

That was Talented Brat, and he sounds furious.

“You should have told us about this sooner,” says Never Lies in her very calm you–are–going–to–regret–this voice I know all too well.

My vision starts to return – I am in a large room that is bare but for the table holding the glass jar with the alien head in it. Lots of dark shapes are standing around the table.

“This is only the second time he has been sleepwalking,” protests Talented Brat.

“It’s been every night since Simon Smith died,” Second Best corrects him sternly.

“Not every night!” I argue.

“Every night. Sometimes you walk back out without even waking up. I can show you the video if you want to see it.”

I don’t; just the thought of me walking around in my sleep like that is too creepy to think about. I glance at the jar – it is still calling to me, and it takes every little bit of self–control I have to look away.

“Do you remember what happened when Simon Smith touched it the first time? It damn near blew up the lab, and it called a saucer to it.”

“You don’t need to remind us; Dark Fire and I were there,” says Never Lies sternly.

“So you know it’s a bad idea.”

“I know Simon Smith went from being a mediocre superhero to the most dangerous weapon we had,” says Dark Fire.

“And the most unstable person we knew,” adds Second Best uncertainly.

I reach out for the jar while they are arguing and let my fingers just touch it. A spark jumps from it to me, passing up my arm and giving me a painful jolt.

“I think you should do what the voices ask. Open the jar and touch the squid head,” says Dark Fire unexpectedly.

“Seriously?”

“I agree. The potential gains are enormous compared to the risks,” Never Lies adds after a moment’s thought.

“I could die!” I protest.

“Yes, and we would all be very sad if that happened… but everyone dies sooner or later, and you really have lived a lot longer than you have any right to expect, considering. And if we go up against The General as we are now, we will lose. We need more power, and this is the only way,” Never Lies says.

As always, I can’t fault her logic or enjoy the frank way she delivers it.

“What do you think?” I ask Second Best.

She shrugs unhappily, which is the answer I was expecting.

“I sometimes wish Bad Day had left that damn squid head in the fire,” she says, “but I think this is something we need to try… I just hope your mother doesn’t come back to haunt me about this.”

“Calculated, controlled, professional.”

–Super Corps Propaganda.

“Aight, let’s make this thing go BOOM.”

–Recording found in the ruins of Talented Brat’s Arctic laboratory.

----------------------------------------

Talented Brat enters a code into a number pad on the side of the jar, and it pops open with an ominous click. He brings it over and I look inside. The squid’s head pulses with power and life, but I don’t want to touch it.

“No rush,” Talent Brat says sarcastically.

“It’s not your life on the line, jackass. Let him take a moment if he needs to,” Never Lies snaps.

I gulp. I’m scared, but I don’t let it show.

“Here we go,” I say, and grab the squid.

An alien energy flows up my arms and fills my body with pain and power. The whispers grow into screams and I scream with them. The whole Cerberus and everyone on it are lifted a foot into the air, held there for a second, and then dropped. This drop causes a ship quake that cracks corridors and doors. Pipes burst, weapons fall off their racks and on the deck the three massive gun barrels roll from side to side. The pain stops but the roar is still overpowering. I can see Dark Fire is trying to talk to me, but I can’t hear anything. Never Lies rips a cable from my side and at last the noise dies, leaving me with a sudden and terrifying silence.

“It’s quite fun once the pain stops,” whispers the voice of Simon Smith inside my head.