Standing in the middle of the moonlit cafeteria, their worried faces only partially illuminated, was the Power Four of Libra. Larry and Fang’s expressions were more neutral, but while Fang’s was mysterious and unreadable, Larry’s was calculating. Siegella had a face that bore her emotions plainly on it. Her eyes were narrowed and piercing, with one bathed in white light and the other shrouded in shadow. Her lips were partially bitten by her teeth, and her facial muscles tensed with familiar anger. However, the rest of her body was still and composed.

Vincent, on the other hand, felt a whirlwind of emotions. He was shocked, afraid, but most of all, he was confused. He understood the base severity of the situation—after all, it doesn’t take a genius to figure that being surrounded by armed people is not good. However, what he didn’t understand was why Siegella was so tense while she looked at the rotund man in front of her, who she called “Iro”.

Iro stood still and resolute, like a tower. His body was completely immersed in the shadows, but not to the point of invisibility. The burning cigarette in his mouth helped shine a light on his grizzled, smiling face.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Iro asked in a condescending manner. He stoked his unshaven, rough chin as a haggard chuckle left his mouth.

Taking a sharp breath, Siegella responded, “How are you here? I didn’t see anyone when I—”

“Now, now, youngin’,” Iro interrupted, “don’t answer a question with a question.” He then proceeded to fidget with the massive chain on his shoulders. “But I’ll humor ya this time. After all, we’ve clashed so many times I practically consider ya a friend.”

“Fuck you.”

The massive man laughed and began to speak. “You asked why ya didn‘t see us when ya scouted earlier, right? Well, it’s simple. That ‘cause we was hidin’. I know how your ghost friend works and I know how to avoid him.”

Siegella twitched for a brief second. “But why were you hiding?” she asked. “You wouldn’t do that unless…”

“We knew you were coming,” Iro said, completing her sentence. “Ain’t it obvious? You’ve been ratted out…and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker.”

Siegella’s muscles flexed even further than they were. If she was tense before, then she was now harder than iron. Her jaw was visibly locked and her teeth were clenched together as tight as they could go. Vincent knew that body language all too well. It was like looking into a mirror of his younger days. He knew exactly what wrath looked like.

“Who?” was all Siegella could get out of her mouth.

Iro roared a thunderous laugh and began to twirl one end of his chain with a single hand. “That’s half the fun, darlin’! But don’t worry, it’ll be obvious once we’re done here.” He then looked around at the surrounding mobsters. “Brothers and sisters,” he said, raising another hand in the air, “let loose!” And with that, he snapped his fingers.

The moment he did, Larry sprinted backwards and dove headfirst into the kitchen, followed by Siegella. Fang started to run back, but looked Vincent in the eyes before they did.

“Wha—” a stunned and confused Vincent started to say.

But before he could go any further, Fang grabbed his hand and dragged him to where the others went. Just as they began to leap through the opening in the wall between the cafeteria in the kitchen, gunshots began to ring out.

The two of them landed next to Siegella and Larry, who were also crouched down below the opening. Sparks flew from the metal kitchenware, dust from bullet impacts fell like snow, and the walls that surrounded them began to look more like a cheese grater than parts of a building.

“Why the hell is Silverback Iro here!?” Siegella screamed at Larry, her voice barely getting through the sound of the hellfire above them.

“How the hell should I know!?” Larry yelled back. “It’s not like I invited him here. Besides, that doesn't matter right now—we have to just worry about taking him out and completing our mission.”

“That’s what you’re—”

“YES!” Larry responded, seemingly knowing what she was going to ask.

Siegella’s eyes then moved slightly to the side before they looked back up at Larry, and they were more stoic than before. She then shifted her focus to Fang, and they both nodded in silent agreement. Finally, she looked over at Vincent. When she did, her eyes narrowed.

“Vincent,” she started to ask, “can you resonate?”

“What?”

CRASH!

A giant meal chain collided with the walls at a speed impossible the fathom, carving through them like a rake through sand. The opening that was above them partially collapsed, causing the group to have to quickly roll out of the way of falling debris. The small rectangular opening that was just large enough for a person to dive through was opening up wider. It was only a matter of time before their cover was gone.

“Shit,” Siegella said, glancing at the wreckage. She then hurriedly looked back at Vincent. Putting her hands firmly on his shoulders, she desperately asked, “Can. You. Resonate?”

“Resonate? I mean, yeah, I’m a Resonator—I got powers,” he responded.

“That’s not…” she paused. “Fuck.” She then looked Vincent directly in the eyes, and it was almost as if her entire being was projected inside of him. At that moment, he knew exactly what she was feeling. “When your mind and powers align—when they become one—that’s when you resonate.”

“I-I-I don’t…” Vincent stammered.

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“You’re gonna have to learn. It’s now or never. It’s do or die.”

“But I don’t understand how I—”

CRASH!

The iron chain came around a second time, this time exposing even more of their small hideout. There was barely enough room for them to be away from the gunfire, which was still hailing in their direction. Bullets grazed by the group, walls began to crumble around them, and the footsteps of the enemies were growing closer.

“Screw it!” Siegella yelled. “You,” she said, still looking at Vincent, “stay here. Fang and Larry, we’re taking these guys out.”

“What!?” Vincent rebuttled. “I have powers. I’m strong. I’m the Chosen!”

“No,” Siegella responded, turning towards him, “you’re just a liability.” She then turned back towards the other two Libra members. “Fang, you’re up!”

Vincent saw Fang summon their Electronic Eyes in their full glory. Without hesitation, Fang clashed them together and then jumped over the partially broken wall, into the cafeteria, and out of sight. Moments afterward, a MASSIVE explosion-like sound erupted from the other side, causing the ground to violently shake for a few seconds.

“I guess that’s my queue,” Siegella nihilistically laughed before closing her eyes.

Suddenly, tears began to stream down her still-stoic face like a river. It was a paradoxical sight to behold. Her demeanor was sturdy, steadfast, and unwavering, and yet there were two waterfalls that suddenly emerged from her eyes.

Before he could even think about what he was seeing, Vincent felt his head start to burst with pain. It was like a jackhammer was suddenly pounding on the inside of his brain, causing his head to vibrate relentlessly. Following the pain were nausea and confusion. For a brief moment, he didn't know where he was, who he was, or when it was. Luckily, he quickly realigned himself, but the whiplash made him want to vomit.

When his eyes and mind were finally seeing reality again, he felt something else. He felt an emotion that was ever-present in the air. It was like a mist that he knew was there and that he could feel, but he couldn’t quite describe the feeling. That feeling was overwhelming sadness…and it originated from Siegella.

When she opened her eyes, she looked in Vincent’s direction, but it was almost like she was looking past him, towards somewhere else entirely. With the waterworks still working their way down her hardened face, she jumped over the wall and into the cafeteria.

Vincent just stood there, stunned. He couldn’t comprehend what was going on.

What was that? he wondered. And why didn’t they want my help…I’m the Chosen.

He knew all his past exploits and what he could do, but the moment he couldn’t answer a single question, he was disregarded and thrown out like he was worthless. And that made him angry. Why couldn’t they acknowledge him?

You know what? I’ll make them respect me, he thought.

“Hey, Larry, what…” but before he could finish that sentence, he found that Larry was nowhere to be seen. The kitchen was empty. The most careful man in the mob was gone. It was like he vanished into the darkness.

“Whatever,” Vincent said. He then lowered himself into a colder place. He thought about his home; he thought about all the times he was never even looked at, no matter what he did in order to get someone’s attention; he thought about the many struggles he went through in Egypt, and the numbing sensation he felt upon realizing the true horrors that took place there; finally, he thought about the face of his dear friend, Eliot.

With a slight mist escaping his mouth, he smiled and jumped over the wall. In front of him was a fairly open space, with only one or two mobsters standing around. However, just as quickly as Vincent spotted them, he saw them reach for their heads and keel over in pain, eventually ceasing movement completely. As they collapsed to the ground, he saw that they weren’t the only bodies there…there were dozens of mobsters on the ground, unmoving.

Standing atop those bodies was the main attraction in the room. Siegella and Iro were locked in what seemed like a destructive dance. Iro would swing around his massive chain, eviscerating anything that stood in its way—tables, chairs, anything in front of it would be splintered to pieces. But never once did it collide with Siegella. The moment it began to swing, she would dodge before it ever got near her. It was like she knew where it was going. And after it would pass her, she would attempt to close the distance, but there would never be a chance. It was a stalemate.

Alright, I can fix this, Vincent thought to himself.

With that, he pressed his hand against his body and used godspeed. Within a fraction of a second, he was airborne, barreling towards the ensuing clash. Vincent blasted past clouds of debris and past a slightly crouched Siegella. His eyes were focused solely on the iron-slinging giant in front of him. He hollowed his mind further and reached his arm back, preparing to launch a starbreaker at Iro. However, the moment he got into range, something unexpected happened.

Just as began to launch his attack, Iro’s eyes glanced down at him. In what seemed like a fraction of a second, Iro cracked a cocky smile.

Pain. Nothing but pain filled Vincent’s inner mind. It was the same hammering sensation that he felt before he launched his attack, but this time it was focused solely on him…and he was right next to the source. Nevertheless, he tried to fight through it. He unleashed the emptiness inside of him—a feeling that was almost natural for him at this point.

But nothing happened.

Before he could even think about it, he felt his momentum come to a sudden halt. He felt something large grab his throat, borderline choking him. Looking up in his nauseated state, he saw the world spinning around him. As he tried his best to focus and align his shifting perspective, he saw the face of Iro looking back at him. He realized that it was Iro’s hand that was grabbing him, lifting him a couple of feet off the ground.

“Not even a mental guard,” Iro laughed. “How useless.”

Iro then released Vincent, and he began to fall to the ground. Before he even touched back down, Vincent saw a horrifying, inevitable sight. Screaming through the air, almost like a venomous, winged snake, was Iro’s iron chain. Vincent wanted to create a void to stop it…but he couldn’t. His mind was all over the place. Coherent thoughts were only a fantasy at the moment. He tried to twist his body in a way that would dodge, but he knew that there was no time. Finally, he resigned himself to fate, but tried to at least guard himself from the oncoming strike. But still nothing. His body and mind were separated—there was no communication between them.

WHAM!

The barreling hunk of metal collided with Vincent’s ribcage, causing him to be sent flying to the side until he collided with a wall. The impact was great, both from the chain and from the wall. As the dust settled, he sat in a small indent within the wall, barely clinging to consciousness. His body and mind were both wracked with pain, but two entirely separate kinds. His mind throbbed and pulsed and ached; his body screamed out in bloody murder; and everything about those two together made him wish, even for a slight moment, that everything was just a dream.

A numbing sensation began to course through his body, starting from the mind and making its way down through his body. It was like someone injected ice water directly into his veins, and slowly it was making its way around. He wasn’t sure what this was, or if he was even feeling it at all. Maybe it was a trick of the mind. Maybe it was just an illusion made by that power Iro showcased.

Or maybe, just maybe, Vincent thought, this is death.