The caffeine hit me like a truck.

Coupled with the ham and cheese toasted sandwiches Alice and I shared, we followed the Old Man feeling like new people. No longer were my eyelids heavy, threatening to shut at a moment's notice. I was wide awake and ready for anything. Breathing through my nose was still a problem, but at least the pain was gone. I could deal with the broken nose properly when I was sure Bayside would survive the night.

“The wonders of coffee,” Alice’s sigh of satisfaction sounded from next to me as we kept pace with the Old Man. “That was some good stuff. You guys are pretty well looked after by the looks of it.”

She was making light conversation to keep the silence at bay. The coffee was stellar, while the food was mundane. Regardless, she managed to get a chortle of amusement from the Old Man.

“We have an attentive boss and that's more than most can say. Their philosophy is that if you treat your employees right, they’ll treat you right in return,” he replied sagely. “I know when a Mentalist is attempting to gather information, would you at least do me the courtesy of telling me what you’ve figured out? ”

Alice hummed aloud, giving the Old Man a curious look.

“This place is well defended but flies under the radar. It operates as a legitimate business. You guys rent out the office spaces upstairs to fledgling businesses that need start up space don’t you? It gives a nice excuse for there to be a lot of activity going in and out of the building, moving things,” she explained. “Am I on the right track?”

The Old Man hummed in acknowledgment.

Alice giggled. “Thought so. The Cains and Pandora probably don’t even realize you guys are active in Bayside. You move about carefully, usually in broad daylight to get lost in the bustle of the city – but when you’re active at night, you make it look official, a mimicry of the ECU. Combat camouflage. Only a Mentalist would be able to see through it before it's too late.”

Since he asked, I figured I would throw in what I noticed.

“Your systems are distinct from the ECU,” I chimed in. “I noticed it the moment I saw you. Different architecture and your modulation is weird. Despite that, the quality is still just as good as the ECU. If someone had the right equipment, you’d stick out like a sore thumb.”

Alice cleared her throat. “Or a Mechakinetic who knows their stuff, apparently.”

“None of which is particularly common in this city,” the Old Man said. “Your group is a rarity; a concentrated powerhouse. If the other gangs understood the threat you four posed, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. You're lucky that The Cains and Pandora are too busy tearing at each other's throats to really look into you.”

I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows at that statement. That was a lot of praise from some guy I had only met once. I had been wet behind the ears when we last interacted – no gear, no experience. I was also severely lacking in the ‘common sense’ department, but admitting that freely wasn’t on my to-do list.

“You think we’re that dangerous?”

The Old Man stopped and turned, giving me a flat look. His deadpan expression made me feel embarrassed I had even asked the question. The answer – in reality – was clear. The four of us had superpowers, very potent ones at that.

Alice was an Aspect, I was a Mechakinetic, Anomaly was an unkillable Morpher, and Mia was– well, she was something. I supposed she also counted as a Morpher, but she seemed more like a Cosmikinetic than a Morpher. Her ability to perceive sight and sound through her statues, swap places with them, and move them faster than the eye could see was mind-boggling.

“Do I need to answer that?”

“Maybe,” Alice chirped, clearly not keeping the best hold on Pink. “Feed into our egos a bit more, we love to be flattered.”

The Old Man rolled his eyes as he turned back and continued.

“The surgery room is just up ahead. I’ve been told there have been some complications in retrieving Anomaly. We have surgery equipment onsite, but nothing strong enough to cut into the beast,” he explained. “We’re going to need some help, namely you two.”

“You… want us to cut that thing open?” I asked, unable to suppress my shock. “Wait, what do you mean you can’t cut it open? It’s skin isn’t that strong, I cut through it perfectly fine.”

I recalled the moment my blade sliced into its flesh. It was quick, and I barely felt any resistance. As I extended the blade on my arm to examine it, I realized the beast's blood had dried on it.

“Like I said, we have surgery equipment but it isn’t suited for this kind of operation. We have other facilities for more extensive procedures, but transporting the beast there in the middle of the chaos going on outside is impossible,” he said with a grim tone. “I hope for your sake you're not squeamish.”

I didn’t answer. All I could think about was the guy I killed earlier today. My pistol had cauterized the holes they made, which didn’t leave room for bleeding. I hadn’t even lingered that long on his fate either. It was me or him. It was just that simple.

“I guess we’ll see,” I said.

The Old Man led us down another corridor and into a room. This one had a ton of medical supplies stacked on shelves, with one of the walls having a large viewing window into an operating room. The beast was on the table with three surgeons working away inside the room. Their scrubs were covered in blood as they tried to work, and I could see that they had managed to cut into it.

“I thought your equipment wasn’t good enough?” I asked with a hopeful tone to my voice.

The Old Man’s features wrinkled as he stepped forward to the intercom.

“How is the procedure going?”

“We’ve made some progress. The tissue and cartilage is very dense – low enhancement rating – enough to give us issues. We’ve managed to break through but it has regenerative properties. It’s fast enough to erase any meaningful progress we make.”

I felt my blood run cold. “How the hell can it regenerate? It’s dead, any powers should be inert.”

“Not necessarily,” Alice countered. “Some powers continue on even after death. Morphers, Transfiguration Cases, and some Biokinetics are the most common examples.”

“Transfiguration Cases?” I asked, unable to hide the confusion in my voice. “What are those?”

“Most people just call them Morphers, but that’s not quite correct. You know Katastrophe, right? That famous J-Pop family group? They’re the most popular Transfiguration Cases,” Alice explained. “Bodies that are permanently altered by Awakenings, things that can’t be reversed or controlled. You’ve already met one, Prosperity,” she mimed the ears with her fingers atop her head. “You think of her as a Morpher, and while you're right, she would also be classified as a Transfiguration Case.”

“I’ve never heard of that term before.”

“It’s ECU terminology,” the Old Man said. “They’re rare and are known to be exceptionally powerful. Their biological makeup is altered during the Awakening process which makes them both very well suited to using their power and incredibly valuable to study. There are individuals all across the world that would pay a lot of money to get their hands on one, dead or alive.”

I didn’t want to think what kind of twisted shit those sorts of people would do with them.

“Biokinetics especially,” Alice said.

The Old Man hummed deeply. “Especially Biokinetics.”

I shuddered.

“You guys sound like you’ve dealt with that sorta stuff before.”

Alice shook her head.

“Personally? No, I just know about it because I do my research. With Gold, I can fill in the gaps when I reach certain dead ends. I’ve also crossed paths with a few unsavory people, as you already know,” she paused, turning to the Old Man. “You though…”

The Old Man kept his back turned. He didn’t flinch, but I could tell from Alice’s insinuation that he had more skeletons in his closet than we did combined. My stomach twisted just thinking about it. I should have seen it coming. These guys didn’t pick us up from the middle of a warzone out of the kindness of their hearts.

He reached forward and pressed the intercom again.

“Recommendations, doctors?” He asked, changing the subject.

“Our next best strategy would be feeding a pump into its lungs to retrieve the fluid, but Anomaly’s body structure is more gelatinous than liquid so there’s a high chance of the extraction failing. The best way is to extract the lungs, but we don’t have the tools to do that here.”

Sighing, the Old Man turned to me.

“You heard him. Do you think you can do it?”

I felt myself gag at the idea but swallowed my disgust and shrugged. It didn’t seem like I had much of a choice.

“I’ll give it a shot. It’s not like it's a live patient, so I can’t really screw this up.”

The Old Man hummed again. “Follow the surgeon's directions. You don’t want to cut directly into the lungs otherwise Anomaly will spill out into the rest of its body. That’ll cause more trouble than it's worth.”

Alice crossed her arms, a curious look appearing on her features. “You seem awfully concerned about him.”

The Old Man didn’t answer.

He walked toward the door leading into the operating room and opened it. He stood by and gestured for me to step in. I took one look through the observation window and collected my bearings. I had never done anything like this before, and the idea of cutting open some kind of animal grossed me out to no end. Even worse was I knew this was once a living person – a kid, no older than thirteen.

God damn it. Fuck you, Anomaly. Why’d you have to go and jump inside its mouth?

I stepped into the room, and the surgeons gave me supportive nods. They even moved away from the table to make room for me. As I got closer, I saw just how damaged their equipment was. There were saws with missing teeth and scalpels that snapped in half. No wonder they needed me.

“I’ll mark where you're going to need to cut,” one of the surgeons said, stepping forward. “Just to clarify, how will you be making the incision?”

I lifted my arm and extended the blade. The surgeon’s eyes widened as he flinched.

“This good enough?”

“Y-Yes, more than enough.”

I nodded as the man moved forward and began marking the corpse. They lowered the table once they were done and gestured for me to start. Nervously, I climbed up onto the table and positioned myself over the beast. I could see the markings on its body and the scarring from the previous attempts. The Morpher’s front looked like someone had lashed it several times with steel blades, which I supposed was accurate, given the equipment in the room.

“One moment,” one of the surgeons said. He retrieved a ruler and leveled it against the flat of my blade. He pointed to a point about three-quarters up the blade and tapped it. “Try not to go any deeper than that.”

I grumbled a bit under my breath. “I’ll try.”

I steadied myself and lined the blade up with the first marking. I was so nervous that I was shaking a little. I was about to cut open a dead Morpher to retrieve my teammate after he had decided to go spelunking into its lungs.

Not how I imagined my night would turn out, but here I was.

I counted down from three before plunging the blade in. It was slick and wet, and I fought the urge to vomit. I swear I could feel how squishy the Morpher’s insides were through the blade. Regardless, I steeled my will and began cutting back and forth in a sawing motion.

I made it halfway down before the surgeons began reaching in and pulling the flesh apart, inserting clips that kept the wound open for longer. I gagged again when the light illuminated its insides, and I silently thanked my foresight that my helmet filtered the smell that was undoubtedly plaguing the room.

“Jesus,” I stopped and looked away, desperate for the image not to sear into my memory. “Fuckin’ hell this is nasty.”

There was some light chuckling from the surgeons around me when the intercom sounded. The Old Man’s voice came through.

“You’re doing well, kid.”

“Yeah?” I snorted, unable to keep the sarcasm out of my tone. “At this point, I just want him out so I can kick his ass. What the fuck was he thinking pulling a stunt like this?”

“It was a gamble that paid off and saved your lives.”

“Stupid,” I hissed in response. I kept cutting, sawing the blade through more flesh. I followed the marked lines meticulously because the last thing I wanted was to slice through an artery. I wasn’t a biology expert, but I didn’t want to find out if those things still spurted blood from the deceased, inhuman or human. “Any dreams I had of becoming a doctor are now long dead.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Again, the surgeons snorted.

“You think this is bad? Have you ever seen a giant tapeworm?”

“Please shut the fuck up,” I groaned. The thought of oversized worms moving through someone's insides made me pause again. I raised my hand to my mouth, only to remember that I was wearing a helmet. If I threw up in my helmet, everyone in the room was getting a fresh laser burn. “I’m never doing this again. Fucking Christ this—”

“Keep going, you’re doing great,” another surgeon said, interrupting me. “Better than most students I’ve seen.”

It was sickening to see how the insides pushed against the devices like they were trying to knit the tissue and cartilage back together again. The sandwiches and coffee in my stomach threatened to come up once I finished cutting.

All three surgeons pulled the wound apart, exposing the lungs. They were bulging, moving about as Anomaly tried to escape.

I nearly puked right then and there.

“We can take it from here, kid.”

I hopped off the table and stepped away as they began working. They made a few incisions before extracting the bloated lungs, which looked more like inflated water balloons than anything else. They dropped them into a large tray and cut the top open. I watched with morbid curiosity as the black, starry goo pooled onto the tray.

Once the other half of Anomaly had drained from the lungs, the surgeons removed them and placed the organs in another tray. The black goo moved about randomly.

The door to the operating room clicked open, and Alice walked in carrying the container with the rest of Anomaly. She smiled and winked at me, which I took as a silent congratulations for what I had just put myself through. I didn’t give her any visual reaction, opting to watch as she placed the container next to the tray before opening the lid.

Immediately, the black goo in the tray flowed out and up into the container. It then joined the rest of the pooling goo and settled.

“That should be all of him,” I said. I didn’t miss how croaky I sounded. “Why isn’t he reforming?”

Alice tapped the side of the container and hummed when there was no outward reaction. “He’s a bit frazzled. I don’t think he’s ever been transformed this long and I don’t believe he’s ever been split apart like that for this long either. It might take him a while to gather his bearings.”

“How long?”

“About an hour, a little less maybe. Important bit is he’ll put himself back together,” she said, putting the lid back on the container. “For now, let's move on. I can tell you're eager to get out of here.”

She couldn’t have been more correct if she tried.

“Hold on a moment,” one of the surgeons said. He stepped to the side and retrieved a bottle from one of the tables before walking toward me. “Need to clean you up, you can't walk around the base like that.”

He sprayed me with the contents of the bottle before I could protest.

“What the hell is this?” I frowned, wiping the front of my visor so I could see. Strangely, I noticed the fresh blood on my blade disintegrate, leaving spotless shining steel. “That’s handy.”

“Bio-Sanitizer,” the surgeon explained. “Disintegrates harmful bacteria, along with any sort of biohazard. It's starting to get used more and more since the new recipe was developed. The previous ones weren’t very… reliable.”

I stared at him, and he shuffled awkwardly.

“The prototypes tended to do unsavory things to exposed body parts.”

“Right,” I said dully. I made it pretty clear that I just wanted to leave. “Thanks.”

“No problem! Safety and sanitation come first after all.”

He was clearly passionate about the subject. It was just unfortunate that my headspace was already begging to move on.

“Sure.”

Alice cleared her throat. “Let’s go, Upgrade.”

When we left the room and the operating room door closed behind me, I released a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. I stood for a moment and shuddered, allowing myself a moment to purge all the events that just took place within the last ten minutes. I took a breath and relaxed.

“Upgrade?” I turned to Alice. “Your blade?”

I looked down to see that it still extended. I retracted it and let out another slow, steady breath.

“Thanks,” I said. I shook my hands before rubbing them together in an attempt to banish the anxiety I was suddenly feeling. “Alright, we’re moving onto Splicer now, right?”

The Old Man acknowledged my words with a slow nod. His gaze, however, lingered on the box containing Anomaly. I was about to ask why when he pulled his attention away from it, fixing me and Alice with a pointed stare.

“We have Splicer on the fourth floor.”

I motioned for him to move.

“Lead the way.”

The Old Man led us out of the third floor and descended to the fourth. These corridors were far more lively. There was quite a bit of shouting and some banging on the walls. None of the doors had windows, so we couldn’t see what was behind them. However, judging from the noises, it seemed they were keeping rowdy people down here.

“Don’t mind the noise,” the Old Man said. “This is where we contain Evohumans and other people of interest.”

“Imprison,” Alice corrected with a smile. “Until they cooperate with you.”

“It’s for their own good,” he replied, unbothered by her correction. “Most are too dangerous to be operating on their own. Others wouldn’t survive being press ganged by The Cains or Pandora. If they really make too much of a fuss, then we let them go. Sometimes, they can prove to be too much trouble.”

I frowned at all the yelling. “How much is too much?”

“Depends. It varies.”

“Depending on what?”

Alice snickered. “The power.”

We arrived at the door, and the Old Man didn’t hesitate to open it and step through. We followed him, entering a room with four concrete walls, ceiling, and floor. When this room was created, comfort was not part of the feature list apparently. The only thing that occupied the room was a small mattress on the back wall, a table, and a chair. There were three men in the room. Two guards and the person we had come to see.

Splicer was sitting in the chair doing his best impression of a bruised tomato. His dark hair hung loosely over his eyes, and his dark tan skin was a shade paler than it should’ve been. My analytic mode showed that his heart rate was far above normal, which meant he was aware of the shitty situation he was in. If I had to guess, the two guards weren’t kind to him.

“Well, well… lookie what we have here!” Alice announced, strolling into the room. The two armored guards turned to us as she gestured for them to leave. “Take five, boys. I’ll get what everyone’s clambering for in a couple of minutes.”

The Old Man cleared his throat. “Clear the room gentlemen. We’ll take it from here.”

The soldiers shrugged and left the room. The door shut behind us, and Alice gently placed Anomaly’s container on the floor before pulling up a chair in front of Splicer. She plopped herself down and crossed her legs.

“You have nooooo idea how long I’ve been waiting to meet you,” I could hear the excitement in Alice’s tone. “You’ve got all the info we need and I’m going to get it out of you, understand?”

Splicer shifted in his seat, glaring at her through matted hair and two swollen eyes.

“You want me to talk?”

His accent was thick. Middle Eastern, if I had to guess. English was clearly not his first language.

“You don’t have to. I do like a challenge sometimes,” Alice leaned forward. “I’ll get my information one way or another. If you talk, it makes things easier for you. If you don’t, I get to sit here and do what I do best.”

Splicer leaned back in his seat and slouched. Reading the defeat and resignation through his injuries was so easy even I could do it.

“Mentalist.”

“Don’t look so sad. These guys would’ve brought in someone to pick your brain one way or another. Just be thankful that my way doesn’t end with your brain looking like mashed potatoes,” Alice said with a smile. “Let's start with something simple; Masquerade. What’s your business with him and the Iron Maiden?”

Splicer didn’t move. If it weren’t for the analytic mode on my visor, I would have assumed he stopped breathing altogether. He just stared at Alice, his shoulders slumped and looking borderline catatonic. Was this some sort of defense mechanism against Mentalists? I knew Gold got a lot of information just off body language alone. Was he trying to minimize that in the hopes that Gold wouldn’t be able to get what we wanted out of him? Would that even work?

“Hmm. You started small-time until you got snatched up by a local gang in your hometown. They put you to work until a rival gang came and messed everything up. In the aftermath, you were talent scouted by some nasty individuals working for Masquerade, where he brought you in and cut you a deal,” Alice started. Splicer flinched, and it got a giggle out of her. “Oooh, that was a bit of a shot in the dark. Go me! That makes things easier.”

I guess not.

“Look at you sitting there with that big fucking grin on your face,” I could hear the venom in Splicer’s tone as he inhaled through his nose. “You might feel like you’re on top of the world right now but really, you’re in no better position than me. They’ve got us here in this room together,” he raised his hands to show the cuffs before resting them on the table. “I might be the one in cuffs but tell me this, do you really think people like him are just going to let you walk out of here?”

He pointed to the Old Man standing next to me.

“They’re already aware,” the Old Man said calmly. “Alice understands how these things work. She’s been through this before. She knows what to expect and I would put money on the fact that she’s already talked about it with her partner here.”

It didn’t surprise me that he knew. I did have to wonder if he had any powers or if he was referring to all the experiences he had likely seen over the years. He was visibly old, someone I would have pegged to have long since retired if I had passed them on the street.

“Pawns!” Splicer snarled, clenching his hands so tight his bloodied knuckles went white. “Playing along in their little game. You’re out of your depth.”

“I suppose it takes one to know one,” Alice replied easily. “You’ve been Masquerade's bitch for quite some time. Must’ve stung a bit to be thrown at Grim with no real guarantee of safety. We all know his history for being a bit of a loose cannon. You’ve been balancing on a knife’s edge for quite a while now.”

Splicer’s glare only hardened.

Alice, meanwhile, only looked ever so slightly perplexed. “You’re holding onto the information we want because it's your only real card to play. Why not play it? I’m going to see your hand eventually. Give it five more minutes and I’ll know everything there is to know about you.”

“Then do it,” Splicer hissed through clenched teeth. He leaned forward and did his best to glare at Gold. Even with his injuries, I could guess how angry he was. He lashed out and slammed his arms down on the table with all his might, causing the Old Man’s hands to twitch toward his jacket pocket. “LOOK AT ME AND TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE!”

I had been expecting some quick-witted retort to anger Splicer further. Alice was good at zeroing in on sore spots with Gold, and I fully expected her to pull out all the stops with this guy. What I wasn’t expecting was the silence that followed.

Alice said nothing.

She locked herself in a staring contest with the unhinged lunatic for so long that I wondered if Gold had met her match. I had never seen her freeze up like this before. Then again, was she freezing up, or was this part of her strategy? It was hard to tell with Gold.

“What is there left for me to hide?” His voice cracked. “I have nothing. NOTHING!”

I felt a part of me snap at this pity parade he was throwing himself. He fucked up and got caught. He was reaping what he sowed.

“Don’t even bother with this bullshit you're trying to pull,” I said with an edge to my voice. “I’ve seen firsthand the fucked up shit you’ve been doing. There’s no excuse for that,” I was immediately reminded of the lab where I saw Pete and Mia. Then, I was back in the second lab tonight with those kids. Finally, my mind arrived at the surgery room upstairs. That Morpher was a kid, and we were forced to put him down because of what Splicer had done to him. “Pack in the tears and quit acting like you have a conscience.”

Splicer stared at me incredulously before a smile broke out across his face. He laughed. He laughed!

“Do you think I wanted any of that?” He scoffed, leaning back, shaking his head in disbelief. His features shifted from amusement to anger in the blink of an eye. “Did you think I had any sort of choice!? I’ve never had a choice! Ever since I was dropped into this fucking city, I’ve been confined to those labs. I didn’t get a say in who I worked on. It was work or die, you FUCKING MORON!” His demeanor shifted again, and his smile returned with more of a mocking glint to it. “But you wouldn’t know that, would you? Noooooooo… you’re new. Adorable little thing. You have no idea what it's like to be STEPPED ON–” his anger was back in a flash “—to have EVERYTHING RIPPED AWAY FROM YOU! No, while you’re out parading around in your little costumes and playing with your toys, people like me are stuck living in reality!”

His words left me with little to say. I didn’t know whether to believe this charade he was putting on or to walk over there and give him a hard reality check, preferably across the face, for all the trouble he had put us through.

“You fucking people,” he spat, continuing his tirade. “It’s always the fucking same. I end up in a room like this, stuck speaking to people who feed me hollow promises about things getting better when they never do,” his head shifted from me to stare at the Old Man. “I assume you're going to offer me protection from Masquerade and Grim as long as I cooperate, right? First its cooperation, then later down the line, that cooperation is going to turn into service. You’ll put me to work and god-fucking-forbid I open my mouth to protest what it is you want me to do. Then, when things get too hot, I’m left on my own to pick up the pieces and the cycle starts all over again.”

More silence hung over the room, and Alice still wasn’t moving, her eyes locked firmly on Splicer. I stood behind her and couldn’t see her face, but I could only assume Gold was in the pilot’s seat. Behind me by the door, the Old Man shifted and stepped forward, his jacket rustling as he cleared his throat.

“Got it out of your system?” Splicer’s shoulders slumped again as all the anger and vitriol left him. “Scream and yell all you like. It’s not going to change what you’ve done. Now, you know why we’re here.”

“Grim’s weakness,” he sniffed, trying desperately to compose himself. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? That’s what you're here for.”

“Yeah,” I said, not bothering to hide my condescending tone. “So maybe this time, you can tell us without the long emotional meltdown, thanks.”

His features turned hollow as he stared down at the table. When he looked up again, Alice abruptly stood up from her seat.

“No,” the words sent a shiver down my spine. I had never heard such rage in Alice’s tone before. “You are fucking kidding me. Don’t say it!” She leaned across the table, glaring holes through his head. “There’s no way. You have to have made some kind of mistake. It can’t be that fucking simple.”

Splicer let out a genuine snort of amusement. He drank in her frustration like it was refreshing spring water.

It was enough to send Alice into a fit. Her fists crashed against the table so hard it split it in half, despite being made of metal. When she turned to leave, I saw Red in control. The Old Man quickly stepped out of her way as she barged through the door and slammed it behind her.

“I don’t blame her,” he muttered. “I had the same reaction too. I think anyone would.”

“What the hell is going on?” I scowled, looking back at him. “You know his weakness?”

“Contrary to what most theories say, his power doesn’t erode or melt. It doesn’t eat either because it’s not a living entity,” he paused, looking up directly at me. “His shadow ages.”

I froze.

It ages?

Splicer continued without missing a beat.

“It’s simple when you think about it. How long has the guy been active? Sixty years now?” He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Every Mentalist on the planet has looked into him by now, trying to figure out how to take him down. Even fucking Ajax couldn’t manage it. Every obstacle or adversary in his way turned to dust and scattered to the wind.” Splicer suddenly laughed bitterly. “So we just need something that can stand the test of time, something he can’t break down fast enough. That something will impede him, slow him down, weaken him. There are plenty of substances that will do the trick, but I’ve done some tests… run the numbers and the answer is so obvious – it’s right in front of our faces every day. We can’t even live without it.”

The revelation hit me.

I didn’t feel any sense of euphoria for figuring it out. Instead, I felt disappointed, like the world had just played a cruel practical joke on me.

Water.

How fucking stupid were we?