#ImWiththeCaptain
#ImWithCaptainSteel
#CaptainSteelisRight
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Chris had difficulty paying attention to the conversations because the voice in their head just wouldn’t shut up. Ordlach was loud and rude and, somehow, oddly sweet. It was hard for Chris to come to grips with, but occasionally he’d show genuine emotion, and it became clear to them that he was essentially lonely after having lived in these rings for however long Roxanne kept them in her pants.
TELL THE PRETENDER WE CAN HELP.
Will you chill?
WHAT IS THIS CHILL? I CAN NOT FEEL THE ELEMENTS HERE.
Chris shook their head quietly. What has also become clear is that most of what he knows about human culture and speech comes from our entertainment, and he was—frustratingly—sometimes very literal. Ordlach claimed it wasn’t his actual namesake but an AI copy of his consciousness as a means to an end for revenge. Of course, the need for such revenge dulled the longer he spent in isolation. With his only outlet to the outside world being whatever was happening in the immediate vicinity, he softened and mellowed out.
Relatively.
THE OTHERS HAVE GONE; TELL HER NOW.
“Gresh, can you just not?” Chris said out loud despite not meaning to. Roxanne took her gaze away from the glass partition and eyed Chris quizzically.
“Ah,” she said after a moment. “His highness, right?” Chris nodded, embarrassed. “When this is over—if this is over—gonna need you to explain to me how he got there.”
“Well, it’s a whole thing,” Chris replied. “Anyway, he keeps saying we can help.”
“I—uh—I don’t think you should go help confront Captain Steel, to be perfectly honest,” Roxanne said before she turned her attention back to the glass.
“No, not that.”
“Then help with what?” Roxanne asked while turning back around.
“He’s telling me I can learn something by touching her,” they replied. “Psycho…metry? Psychometry. I don’t know the term, but, like, yeah. I can learn about places, objects, and even living things just by touching them. Neat, yeah?”
“I mean,” Roxanne said. “Sure, definitely. Hell, I can’t even do that…but how will that help here?”
“Well, he thinks we can learn the nature of the virus and its effect on Lady Steel. Maybe that info can help you…help her?” Chris lifted their palm toward the glass. Roxanne looked back at Corina and felt a smirk form on her lips.
“Hell,” she said eventually. “Let's try it!”
Chris beamed, excited about being useful finally. It wasn’t like they didn’t get why they were mostly sidelined, but what was the point of all this power if they weren’t using it? Chris’ senses and nerves felt on fire in the best way; it was hard not to be eager and salivate.
“Okay, get your aura up and keep it up, okay?”
“Yes’m,” Chris replied with a smirk.
Roxanne blushed and opened the door leading into Corina’s side of the room. She stared down at her friend, unprepared for how she would look up close. With the amount of machinery attached to her, Corina seemed almost inhuman. Her face was slightly gaunt, and her skin was pale; Roxanne couldn’t help but fear that she was dying. Roxanne grabbed her hand and squeezed it.
“Hang on, please,” she said and turned to Chris. “Okay, do your thing.”
Roxanne stepped aside to give Chris some room. They hovered over the body, hesitant, cautious; Chris raised their right hand and inched ever closer. What was going to happen? Was this real? Inches away now, Chris swallowed down a mouthful of tension. They stopped centimeters close and glanced back at Roxanne. She had her arms folded, her face blank and deep in thought.
“Okay, so…” Chris said. “I just TOOOUUUCHHHH?!”
Chris felt a jolt of energy travel up their fingers, forcing them to shut their eyes. The pair opened up almost as quickly, and the room was gone. Instead, they were surrounded by pulsating blue and green gaseous lights that looked to be tearing each other apart before reforming again and again. Chris’ hand was stretched out in front of them, placed upon a glowing, vaguely human-shaped energy that writhed as the clouds violently danced.
“What is this?” Chris attempted to pull their hand back but felt anchored. “I can’t let go…?!”
STAY THAT HAND LEST YOU LOSE THE CONNECTION. PATIENCE, WHILE I STUDY THIS… INTERESTING. THESE ARE HER CELLS; THEY ARE UNDER CONSTANT DURESS.
“It’s like an endless loop….” Chris looked on as clouds twisted upon each other before blowing apart.
INDEED. LOOK CLOSER. THIS VIRUS IS QUANTUM IN NATURE. IT IS BREAKING DOWN THE FORCES THAT HOLD SUBATOMIC PARTICLES TOGETHER WHILE HER SUPERNATURAL ABILITIES ARE REBUILDING WHAT'S BEEN DESTROYED ALMOST INSTANTLY.
“What does that mean?”
IT MEANS HER BIO-ENERGY IS FOCUSED ON THIS “ENDLESS LOOP, " AS YOU PUT IT, AND IS NOT ACTUALLY FIGHTING THE VIRUS. SHE MAY NEVER WAKE UP AT THIS RATE.
“Well, that’s not good,” Chris stared at the energized being they were anchored to. It was almost formless save for the occasional movement when clouds collided and ripped apart. It was a pain response; Chris could tell that much. “There’s got to be something we can do to help her.”
THE PRETENDER—SHE MAY BE ABLE TO-
“Her name is Roxanne.”
I SAID WHAT I SAID.
“Her. Name. Is. Roxanne.”
…
“Well…?”
….FINE. ROXANNE. ARE YOU PLEASED?
“Yes, now how can she help?”
SHE CAN MANIPULATE ALL FORMS OF ENERGY, INCLUDING BIO-ENERGY. IT ALL FALLS UNDER THE SPECTRUM ALL THE SAME. IF SHE CAN “AUGMENT” THIS HUMAN, IT MAY AID IN HER RECOVERY.
“Okay,” Chris nodded. “Let's tell her then—Do I just let go or…?”
YES, RELAX YOUR TOUCH, AND YOU’LL BE ABLE TO STOP THIS.
Chris did so and found themselves in the hospital room again. The jolt of power she had felt subsided; they looked down at Corina and saw she was unchanged. It hit Chris that all the pain Corina must be feeling was internal. Chris thought of that and shuddered. They turned around and saw Roxanne had been watching, face pleading for hope.
Chris relayed everything Ordlach had said to her and tried to describe what they had seen as best they could. Roxanne nodded occasionally; she implicitly understood the frustration, excitement, and exasperation inherent to these abilities.
“So what was I like while I was in there?” Chris asked. “Was I talking to myself or…?”
“You were just standing there.”
“Ah, lame.”
“I may be able to do what Ordlach suggested; it never occurred to me before. I’ll need to enter my mind palace and go from there….”
“Okay, what should I do?”
“Watch over us both,” Roxanne replied. “Wake me if anything world-ending shows up.”
----------------------------------------
Another body for the pile in the middle of Mad City. Of all the major population centers on Izanami—and yes, Madrono City was considered one—the virus hit this section the hardest. As the flashpoint for the spread, it wasn’t surprising to anyone still stuck there. Scattered throughout the city were multiple-story-high mounds of burnt corpses. Each time one got high enough, another was started until, eventually, those still alive gathered together to create one massive pile in the city center almost a mile high.
The amount of those still living numbered only in the triple digits; although the actual population count of Mad City was never indeed known or officially tallied, the loss was simply devastating. Brachium was on the upswing, signaling to those hunkered down the dawn of yet another day of the plague. With the government at first playing it down, then giving up when they couldn’t pretend anymore, no one knew how long they had been dealing with it.
It could be a month or more with no end in sight.
Joyo typically woke up when the sun reached its zenith and pierced through his meager white bed sheet cushions; today, he shot upright at the sound of a boom in the distance. Far enough to barely be heard but close enough that the entire building shook from it. Joyo looked around the bombed-out flat he shared with ten other people, all virus-free and seemingly immune.
While everyone else around them melted into red goo, they all eventually decided to huddle together in a sort of strength-in-numbers parody. Most of the surviving residents of Mad City had grouped up in a myriad of numbers, all clustered closely at the center of the city and thus closer to the body pile.
With their numbers dwindling, it made little sense to continue being stretched out. Provisions hoarded together alongside strict inventory counts kept things, thus far, kosher. Some in the group theorized they had lasted this long due to immunity. Still, with no government services to confirm such a thing—most correctional officers had abandoned their posts on the wall—Joyo figured it didn’t much matter.
He was alive. They were alive. It was enough.
The boom came again, followed by the building shaking once more. Big ben from the backroom had burst onto the scene, pushing the separation beads violently.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“What the hell is going on out here?!” he bellowed. He was 8 foot 10, wide as hell, and ugly to boot, but everyone in the group loved him; for the most part. Joyo stayed silent while he moved over to the nearby window. The street was clear, aside from the body pile (and the usual street garbage); the boom happened again.
“It’s the walls,” he whispered. Joyo could literally track soundwaves with his naked eyes and watched colored lines flow through the streets from the right. They collided with abandoned cars as high tide blasted against a seaside cliff shore.
“What?” Ben hollered at the top of his lungs and woke up the rest of the flat. “What did you say?”
“The outer walls!” Joyo shouted back, red-faced and shocked at the sudden volume change. “You big dumb.”
“Inside voices, please.” Sumar had emerged from the bathroom, arms outstretched; used to making peace more often than he’d like. “What's that about the walls, buddy?”
“That banging,” Joyo replied, pointing. “It’s coming from outside. The walls. The border. The DMZ.” The no man’s land existed between the walls, where all personnel lived, dubbed Gendarmeo Township, also known as the Mad City border.
“Serious?” Sumar asked; the kid nodded. “Must be something big if we can hear it from here.”
“Aw, I’m goin’ back to bed,” Ben said. He turned slowly like a turtle and returned to the room he came from. There came another sound, this time bigger, closer. The building shook again, violently, and everyone lost their footing. Joyo had been knocked from the window but quickly scrambled back to the sill. Outside on the street, a giant plume of smoke wafted off the ground.
“I think you gonna stay awake for this one, Ben,” Joyo’s face was frozen except for his bottom lip, which he nibbled on with small tiny bites. The smoke cleared, and Captain Steel was standing in it. The body pile loomed large over his frame, dwarfing him. Others in the house had all rushed the windows, packed together like tangled cats. Outside, different heads popped out from other buildings.
The entire city was awake.
Captain Steel looked up. His arms were up by his abdomen, and his palms were face up. He stared at every face he could see. He studied every speck of dirt caked on pained faces and every atom of dust that hung in the air. Confusion flushed from many faces while recognition showed on others. It had been 17 years, yet he was unmistakable to many of them, beard and all.
“The board is dead,” he said. His fingers, still upturned, spread as far as they could go. “Because I killed them.” The rest in the loft around Joyo had audibly gasped at the utterance. Joyo and Sumar momentarily locked eyes, and without a word passed between them, Joyo knew he needed to surf the news to see if it was true.
Mad City was cut off from The Bleednet, built as part of the outer layer security set up once it had been condemned and deemed a No Man’s Land. Access to The Bleednet—and the outside world—was saved for the privileged few. Those who happened to know a guy who knew a guy.
Joyo had the equipment that allowed him to occasionally jack in, necessary sometimes when you lived in a place that half existed. He recognized the colorful man on the street but couldn’t believe his eyes or words. He scrambled back from the windows and pulled out his slate. It was the size of a napkin; unfolded, it was about the size of a dish rag.
He fished in his dusty pockets for a pair of goggles necessary for the hack he needed to perform. Feeling the rough fibers from the strap, Joyo grinned, slapped them on his head, and they powered up in seconds. They synced up with the slate, and he thought-clicked through some decision trees. A low-level gravimetric pulse surrounded the boy to keep him invisible to The Bleednet dampeners installed around the city, a reverse faraday cage.
There, Joyo saw it—most of the Bleednet had gone dark, but for how long? He couldn't answer. Short and punctuated social media posts had been the only communication for hours:
Help-
Anyone e-
And so on it went. Joyo pursed his lips together and ignored the digital silence.
“It’s true,” he said barely above a whisper, but everyone in the flat had heard it.
“Is that really Captain Steel?” Someone asked. Joyo flipped his slate around and showed them various headlines from the net; he shrugged. Cap was before his time. What was the big deal?
“Sure looks like him,” another said. One by one, they all went from watching the boy back to looking out the window. Captain Steel had been talking, and they had missed just some of it.
“…Look at what they’ve left you,” he had been shouting and pointing emphatically at the body pile. Cap spun around, and he looked from face to face. He felt their pain, their anguish, their exhaustion. His tenor was infectious; one by one, he saw that they were enraptured.
“They lock you in here; how many of you are here because your grandparents were daring enough to birth you in these conditions? How many because society allowed it? They allowed this, too, this plague. They set it loose upon you all because they knew they could get away with it.”
To everyone listening, this was confirmation of every piece of info they gossiped with each other about. Everyone who lived within Mad City had assumed the powers that be were to blame. Oh, so it’s this now? Hearing it said so emphatically, with such conviction, only made it more authentic.
The word of god itself had descended upon their apocalypse. This had to be the truth. This was the truth. Cap levitated in the air and unleashed his plasma vision on the body pile. It went up in flames. Massive, luminous flames.
“This is what they think of you!” He continued to fire on the pile until it got white-hot and evaporated to ash, smoke, and a dusty pile of bone fragments. “What they think of us!
“Society is changing, collapsing, as I speak, while you rot away in a prison they made for you.” He spat emphatically. “Dying of a disease they created for you! Burning bodies and forced to hide in a condemned city while the entirety of the world falls apart from typical human hubris.
“But let me tell you, your anguish was heard across the universe and somehow brought me here. At first, I couldn’t understand why or how; I thought it wasn’t even real. But I see now; your universe needs a Captain Steel. Every universe needs Captain Steel.
“Change will start here; come with me, come to Saint Century, and I promise you freedom.
“Dignity.
“A new status quo,” he said as he spread his arms out. “The machine Central One is all that’s left. Once it's gone, a new era for Izanami can begin. An OverHuman Era!” One by one, people from the buildings began to disappear inside, only to emerge outside by his side. They believed him and trusted him.
They were with him.
“Father?” Cap spun toward the voice. Walking on the streets and approaching him were Athena and MJ. MJ was in the lead, his torso leaning forward and shoulders raised. Athena hung back, a few inches at best, but she had her guard up emotionally.
“I knew you’d come,” Cap said with his arms outstretched. “But did you? Do you know why you’re here?” He wrapped his large arms around MJ and hugged him. Like second nature, MJ hugged him back. His eyes started to water.
“I—we’ve come to talk you down, father,” MJ replied after breaking contact. “You can’t really intend to march upon Saint Century?”
“No, that’s not why you’re here.” Cap shook his head and grabbed MJ by the shoulders. His grip was firm but not stiff, soft but with purpose. “You used to be so lost; do you remember that? Lost until I arrived, giving you what you always wanted and needed: A father. You needed me, too, just like this universe did…I saved you, Michael. You know I’m right; I gave you what you needed; you’ll stand by me.”
MJ’s body language softened immediately, much to Athena’s chagrin. A part of her wasn’t surprised, but it didn’t stop her from being disappointed. MJ had locked up, entirely unable to assert anything, not that he had anything to declare. Captain Steel was his father. Athena noticed Cap's gaze shift to her and immediately felt uncomfortable. He pointed at her, seemingly unaware of her discomfort.
“But why are you here?” He was pointing. Athena immediately caught her next breath in her throat. “You’ve never been comfortable; you’ve kept me at arm’s length. And I suppose it made sense. In my dreams, you always were the headstrong one. You wouldn’t need to be saved.”
Athena had nothing to say, and she watched Captain Steel. He seemed lost in memories that had nothing to do with what was currently happening. Eventually, after a moment, he snapped out of it and said: “I bet you feel vindicated now, Athena. Justified in your behavior toward me.”
Athena again didn’t respond. She looked from the doppelganger and back to her brother. MJ had slowly moved so that he was standing beside Captain Steel shoulder to shoulder. She had seen this look on his face before, typically when he wanted to fit in and had no idea how to express himself.
“What are you doing?” she said to her brother. A crowd had gathered around them, and citizens from inside poured out onto the street. MJ bit his lip and avoided looking into his sister's big green eyes.
“Athena, what if he’s right?”
“MJ…”
“All our lives, we’ve spent anxious to honor our father's legacy and wondering what it would be like were he still alive. And here he is, right in front of us; how can we let that go? How can I? It’s like…what we’ve always wanted!” He stopped as Cap's massive hand rested on his shoulder. MJ tensed up, and he tracked how Athena was looking at him. She sighed inward heavily.
“You’ve always been so gullible,” she said, her brows arched, and her eyes were wide. “Our father’s legacy inspired people to be better, not…this. This isn’t the way, and this isn’t how we honor him.” She took a step closer and grabbed his hand. “I get it, I do. He looks and sounds just like dad in all the history vids…But at the end of the day, he is NOT our father, MJ. He just isn’t.”
Cap let a short outtake of air escape from his nose. He was smiling. MJ had pulled his hand away from hers and had no idea what to do next. Reality seemed to hurt him more than the fiction he was trying to wish into existence. Cap patted the boy on the back several times, but was it praise or patronizing? MJ couldn’t tell.
“You’re right, Athena. I’m not your actual father.” His eyes shifted down. “That’s why I can do this.”
In a second, he was on her with a punch. She was knocked back 12 feet but remained upright and dug partway into the ground. She had absorbed it. He was on her again instantly, hitting her upward with an uppercut. She arced through the air sharply and landed on her back in an Athena-sized crater. Cap adjusted his jacket and pointed in her direction.
“Subdue her,” he said to the crowd that had gathered. “It’s for her own good; she’s too stubborn. I’d hate to have to kill her. God, can you imagine?”
No one said anything. Just silent looks and awkward glances as a section of OHs split off the greater mass and surrounded Athena. She sat up and kept her left hand braced behind her for support. Everyone around her was cautious because Athena Steel had just taken two full shots from the most powerful person in two universes; she was supercharged.
Blood ran down her nose, and she wiped it off.
Athena lifted her foot and slammed it into the ground in front of her as hard as she could. Part of the group erupted upward like a burst cyst. This display woke the rest of the crowd up, and they were on her in an instant.
MJ, stuck in place, roiled as disassociation rocked him solid. His fists clenched, he swallowed hard, head saying one thing while his heart said another. Captain Steel floated over to him. He studied the boy and followed his gaze. He tracked each atom and molecule that made up the boy’s sweat.
“What are you waiting for, Michael?” He said. MJ blinked, and the ripples of goosebumps across his skin made him shiver.
“W—What?” Five letters vomited from his throat and hit the ground like slop.
“You’ve made your choice, haven’t you? Crossed the line in the sand? You can’t have it all, son. Siding with me means siding against your sister. She’ll never join us.”
“Th—that’s not,” The letters were big, and they caused congestion in his throat.
“True? Look at her fighting right now,” they both turned their attention to the melee only yards away. Every blow struck made Athena Steel stronger, but they took their toll. She seemed slower, more in pain.
But she never gave up.
“She’s made her choice. You see her fighting for that choice, don’t you? We must be strong in our convictions. That’s true power, kiddo. I know I’m right—she knows she’s right. And you?”
MJ looked at his father…no, the doppelganger. For the first time, he looked like a stranger, a man he couldn’t recognize. He looked at his sister, standing up for what she believed in despite it all—despite his cowardice. She was fighting for him, too; Gresh, how could he not have seen it before? Cap walked away from MJ, turning his back to survey the fight; Athena was on her last legs.
MJ clenched his fist. His facial features twisted, and he swung with every ounce of his being. Cap stepped to the side and dodged it. His head turned and looked toward Kid Steel, who was essentially still mid-swing.
“I’m disappointed it took you this long,” Cap whipped his arm back and knocked MJ to the ground. “Honestly, I was surprised you came to my side so easily. I doubt my real son would have been so easily impressionable. There was no way she was going to my side, son. Did you not see that?” He punched him again; everything froze for MJ. Future pain sat poised to introduce itself over the horizon.
“I figured you two had a stronger bond than that!” An uppercut shot MJ skyward and through a building. “I imagined I’d have to fight you both, but you really threw me for a loop!”
MJ broke through walls and smashed through cubicles until he was clear through the other side. Kid Steel changed his momentum with a thought and made a b-line through the hole he had just come through, straight for Captain Steel.
“Still, this might work out better than I hoped!” Cap said seconds before stepping aside and connecting with a straight right that made solid contact with the boy's temple. Blood vessels burst immediately.
“I don’t really want to fight either of you, but being against me makes sense for you! You’d likely do anything to preserve your status quo!” The boy, barely bounced against the cement, was struck again with a left hook to his side that made the air warble. “Just as I would!
“That’s why I’m here, you understand? I get it now! Someone from the outside has to force it, or you’ll never be free!” Captain Steel had him by the throat. The boy, bruised beyond recognition, choked, battered, bloody.
“So I can’t allow either of you to stand against me.”
“Stop!” Athena shouted, held down by a dozen others. “Stop it! Leave him alone!”
“And there it is. She needed a reason not to fight me,” Cap smiled. “Stand down, Athena!” His words cut through the air, and she stopped struggling. Her shoulders sagged, and all the tension escaped her muscles.
“I’m glad I won't have to kill any of you,” he said. “I think your father would be proud of the bravery you’ve shown here today; I know I am.”
Athena spat at his feet, but Captain Steel ignored it and threw MJ onto the ground beside her. The OH mob let her go, and she scrambled to cradle her brother in her arms.
“I’m suh-suh,” escaped Kid Steel’s mouth, but his attempt to talk over swollen cheeks and lips failed. Athena touched his face; he didn’t need to say a thing. Captain Steel watched them both with an odd look on his face like he was proud. Quickly, his body language shifted, and he was aware that hundreds surrounded them.
“TO SAINT CENTURY!” He shouted; the entire crowd cheered.