Unauthorized biography of Lady Steel releases to a poor reception!
After repeated failed attempts to block its release, SELL OUT! The Un-Authorized story of Lady Steel hit the virtual stands today to scathing reviews. Most critics simply couldn’t get past the atrocious grammar and multitude of typos; those who did found its veracity lacking. Why the Lady Steel Foundation chose to fight so hard to bar the publication from release remains a mystery to me; I don’t foresee folks finding “Birthed a crossbreed alien child out of wedlock” very convincing.
-Terminal’s Daily Dose
Ordlach had led the procession back to the Coliseum. Roxanne again found herself shackled and locked out from her powers; it annoyed her. She had surrendered, so she hoped they’d give her some courtesy. The fight was happening one way or another. But no, they slapped them back on her once they reached the main staging area. Hundreds of Uzrath gathered around, all taking their probably usual seats all over the arena. Ordlach was ahead of her, gesticulating wildly, giving a speech about how she was a fool and blah and blah; she didn’t want to pay him any mind.
Instead, she looked at the crowd.
Some stared blankly at her. They’d already seen the butt-kicking of a lifetime; what was there to look forward to? Others were out of their seat and jawed at her. They stuck their claws in her direction, but it all felt very performative. As if this was how they were all expected to act, they decided to have fun. Roxanne looked up at the luxury box, which was empty this time. She had hoped that maybe Enehva would be there since she was just another trophy to show off at this point for him.
His rousing speech quickly wound down. Ordlach ordered Roxanne back to the dungeon; he needed to prepare. Roxanne whispered under her breath, “Prepare? For what?” And was shocked when one of her guards told her:
“He likes to hype himself up.”
“Yeah, he needs to feel it, you know?”
Her eyes felt like they could roll out of her head. They took her back through the central opening of the arena, the one she’d entered through the first time. The walk was annoyingly familiar, although she couldn’t help but smile seeing the hole she had left behind earlier. It was untouched, unfixed, without a warning of any sort. They didn’t care.
They turned her to the left and entered the hall leading to her cell. This being Roxannes the third trip, she could count off every stone brick she stepped on. Fifty paces, then right, she was back in the cell again. However, it wasn’t empty. Enehva lay there, seemingly unconscious. Her snout, covered in a thick green fluid, barely touched the stone floor. The green liquid was her blood.
Roxanne broke away from the guards and rushed over to her. “Enehva…?” She said as she slid onto her knees. The cage door slammed behind her forcefully and made her jump. She attempted to cradle Enehva but, with her hands as they were, that was proving impossible. However, Enehva stirred. She reached up to Roxanne and used her to pull herself upright.
“What are you doing here?” Enehva asked weakly.
“I challenged him so I could save you.”
Enehva sat up further and braced her back against the wall. “You’ve located C’hiad?” Roxanne shook her head. Enehva tried to stand up and said, “Then you must try again before,” but her legs buckled, and she nearly fell. Roxanne caught her.
“Sit down, please; Greshing hell,” Roxanne pleaded. “What did they do to you?”
“I was punished,” Enehva replied, gaze focused on the floor. “He aims to make an example of me.” She waved Roxanne away and stared up at her with her huge eyes. “You must go back into your mind palace.”
Roxanne looked at her. She exhaled heavily. “I have to tell you something. I-I broke the balance.”
Enehva tilted her head just so. “I think I’ve always known. I must have felt it when it happened. It restored my connection.”
“I kept it in all this time, ” Roxanne bit her lip. “Because I thought you’d be mad.”
Enehva blinked. “Why would I be mad?”
Roxanne looked at the floor. “Because I’m mad, sometimes. At myself," she said in a low whisper.
Enehva reached out and grabbed onto Roxanne’s shoulder, and she squeezed it. “You seek to find a new balance but hesitate. You continue to hope that it will come to you, but it will have to be you that has to find it. Deep down, you know this.”
Roxanne nodded, “I do.”
“Then go, say the words. Go back and find the light.”
Roxanne held up her arms, “But what about these things?”
“The only thing that blocks you from that is here,” she pointed to Roxanne’s head, followed by her heart. “And here. Your doubt is self-imposed. And so long as you possess the mantle, nothing can take it from you.” She patted the floor in front of her. “Sit, I’ll chant with you. I will guide you in.”
Roxanne nodded and did as instructed. She crossed her legs in front of her as she sat; Enehva took Roxanne’s shackles into her own hands. They both closed their eyes and began to chant: Anail. Fòcas. Èist. This time went more effortless than the last for Roxanne, but she attributed that to Enehva being there as she felt a sense of calm around her. It was the same sense she had felt when she first met Azonne—a serenity.
The floor beneath them melted away, followed shortly by the cell itself. That dissipated stone by stone, leaving them both floating in pitch blackness. Roxanne opened her eyes; Enehva was no longer in front of her. Just the endless expanse of her subconsciousness lay spread out before her.
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“This darkness is your doubt.” Enehva’s voice produced an echo all around her. “It has grown roots and only gotten bigger since your last visit. I suspect it has a face and a name.”
Roxanne nodded. “It does.”
Wes Gibson represented her failure and uncertain future, both literally and figuratively. The black that surrounded her may as well have been the actual Nameless, and she felt slightly panicked. Around Roxanne, eyes opened and materialized in the dark like disturbed Christmas lights. Each one would blink at different intervals before they stopped and just focused on her. Endlessly unblinking and bloodshot, their gazes went right through her and made her shudder. Roxanne couldn’t help but take a step back.
It all felt alive.
“You met your doubt,” Enehva continued. “It knows you’re strong. This muck is a show of force to disabuse you of that. Look around you. There is a door. There, down there.”
Roxanne saw it, off in the distance to her right. A lone white door under a spotlight stands in the middle of nothing.
“The fact that you can see the door means you’re strong,” Enehva told her. “It means your doubt isn’t so impossible. Look down at your feet.”
Roxanne did so, the black of the room had turned to goopy strands, and they were trying to inch their way up her body. The strands triggered a memory for her, a bad one. Back in Saint Century, outside the former Captain Steel museum, where she dared cosmic evil to corrupt her. The cold felt all over her skin was the same as it was then: like getting dipped in liquid nitrogen. It spoke to her, whispered terrible things, and, worst of all, physically hurt. She barely survived that then, and was all this just a remnant of that, or had it become an infection she still unwittingly carried?
“Roxanne.” Enehva’s voice briefly snapped her out of the daze. “This is your mind. Your world. You rule here.”
Roxanne heard every word, every syllable, but they had difficulty taking hold. Her hands shook, and her legs felt cemented into place. The darkness crawled up her body as undeterred and endless whispers bounced around her head.
You’re a failure. Choosing you was a mistake. You’ll fail the Uzrath, just like you failed Wes. That awoke something inside her. A burning fire that pushed out from her heart.
“I didn’t fail Wes,” she said through gritted teeth. “I saved him. And I’ll save these people.” Roxanne started to glow. Burning hot plasma began seeping out from underneath the black sludge.
“This is your world,” she heard Enehva repeat, and she was right. This was Roxanne’s mind, and darkness had no place here.
Roxanne flexed her hands, and the endless void cracked in the face of intense light. Beams of energy seeped through, so bright it forced all the eyes around her to shut. It spread out from there and engulfed everything. Roxanne felt a pins and needles sensation that radiated outward from every atom. Her instinct was to hold it in, but she ignored it. She let it all flow out as her vision got very white. Blinding yellow energy detonated, followed by an inhuman scream.
When she opened them, the black was gone. Her mind palace was the white room again, but only the door remained. She examined herself and couldn’t help but smile. She'd finally felt whole for the first time in what felt like days. Her connection to Azonne, to The Sight, wasn’t so distant anymore; it was so close she could reach for it.
So she did.
Roxanne took a few steps to the door, grabbed the handle, and stepped through it. The glow beyond the door blinded her while her synaptic nerves felt alive. A million neurons began firing all at once, and briefly, she had been stricken blind. She did not panic; this was a familiar and normal sensation. Part and parcel to wielding the most powerful weapons in the universe. When her vision returned, so did her companion:
Before her stood Azonne, a mauve-colored alien with long canted ears and short purple hair. She had struggled to wield the mantle but sacrificed herself to give Roxanne’s home world a slight reprieve. To Roxanne, Azonne was like the sister she never had. Their sense of distance had dissolved during Roxanne’s time on Uzrath; she now realized that she had missed their presence.
“Roxanne, it’s good to see you,” they said. “Finally.”
“I’d hug you, but we got a lot of sesh to deal with,” Roxanne responded. “Do I need to summarize or what?”
“I’m aware of the important bit,” they offered. “You trapped, and the both of us cut off from one another. I reached out to Corina, hoping she could help.”
“Oh? Anything on that front?”
“I am unsure if she received my entire message,” Azonne replied. “I take it we’ve got work to do?”
Roxanne nodded, “You know where we are?”
The avatar was solemn. “Uzrath,” they finally said.
“They want me to drain the battery.”
Azonne had no answer; they seemed almost uncomfortable. Enehva materialized in the white room alongside them both. Azonne stepped back, clearly shocked. Enehva approached the avatar curiously; she reached her hand out but quickly drew it back.
“Is that you, C’hiad?” She asked. “Can I see you as you truly are?”
Her form shifted and swirled. Suddenly, Azonne is replaced by a humanoid-shaped being of energy with a body that pulsates and crackled with power. The head was blank, with glowing white eyes that made it impossible to see where it was looking. A look passed between them both that left Roxanne wanting.
“Enehva…,” the energy said. The two held hands and stared into each other's eyes; Roxanne was as a loss for what she had witnessed.
“Do you remember what you did for me?” Enehva asked it, and, despite the lack of facial expressions, it was clear to Roxanne that it had. “Are you prepared to do what it takes to help her?”
Roxanne looked from Enehva back to her companion and then back again. She wore a puzzled expression on her face like a cheap suit.
“You may have to kill him, do you understand?” Enehva continued.
“I…,” was all the energy being said. This loss of words was enough for Roxanne; her companion was many things but being rendered speechless was not one of them.
“Hang on a second,” Roxanne said while she waved her hands in the air. “What’s going on here?” The energy being didn’t look at her for the first time in their partnership. Enehva saw this and approached Roxanne. She placed a hand on her shoulder and looked at her sympathetically.
“All I ever wanted was a child. Having a legacy was important to our people, but once I was chosen, I accepted that it just wasn’t going to happen. I’d be too busy preserving the balance.” She grew wistful and sighed.
“…No way,” Roxanne said. She looked back at her companion, who was staring back at her.
“I…,” it began. “I used the light to give Enehva what she desired as a thank you for her service.”
“Are you serious? You’re the father??” Roxanne’s jaw hung low.
“In a crude sort of way.”
“That’s…Enehva, why didn’t you say anything to me before now?”
Enehva lowered her head. “I have no good reason,” She said. “What I had to say was prepared only for C’hiad, I suppose.” She turned to the energy and looked up at them. Her eyes refracted the light into a rainbow of different colors, constantly shifting; red, green, blue; and yellow. “I don’t blame you for any of this.”
“I should have directed any of your successors to come back.”
“No,” she told it. “I appreciate what you had done for me, for us. But we were arrogant and felt we deserved to live. Instead, it turned us into monsters. It turned Ordlach into a monster. Beat or kill, whatever it takes, but we must be free. Do you understand?”
Roxanne’s companion said nothing. They simply lowered their head in acknowledgment. Eventually, it turned to Roxanne, and they asked her, “Are you ready?”
She nodded solemnly. She was ready to kick the crap out of that brat, finally. Roxanne cracked her knuckles and slammed her left fist into her right palm. Energy crackled from her palm and jumped off her gauntlets like a skipped stone. The mind palace melted around her, giving way to reality, and the stone prison that filled her vision slowly like paint dropped into a bucket.
Enehva and Roxanne were seated across from one another again; their eyes flew open at once. The shackles hissed and immediately came apart. They landed hard on the stone floor with a clatter. Roxanne got up to one knee and reached over to Enehva. She took her claw into her hand and said:
“Whatever it takes.”