Showtime
It was time.
Orion’s Octagon was lit up with a blinding glow. The stage was set, quite literally, and the performances were in full swing. Music blasted over the cheering crowd, laser arrays stitching the sky and spotlights flashing down on the bands as they jammed out. Drone cameras swept around the stage like fireflies, their lenses projecting the scene on the big screens and across the internet.
And me?
I was dropping Psyren off backstage.
“You all set?” I asked her.
“Please, boss. I can’t look this good and not be ready,” she said.
I didn’t know about that, but I did know she looked damn good. Mammon had truly gone all out on the suit, with sleek darkness that clung to Psyren’s gorgeous curves, lifting her modest breasts and hugging her thighs. Highlights of neon pink glowed along her figure, her pink hair blazing in the gloom and her eyes sparkling behind a mask like spread butterfly wings. A leather jacket was thrown over her shoulders, and of course, there were spikes on it.
“You look ready to kill,” I said. “Or at least maim.”
“You going to stay and watch?” she asked.
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Just need to check in with Carter and I’ll be moving in the crowd.”
“Then see you after the show, boss,” she said, leaning forward, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “And I’m gonna show you how much I really appreciate this.”
I felt a throb at the promise in her eyes and the way her costume clung to her figure. If I was a jealous man, I’d be pissed that the world was going to see her in that getup.
But no time for that. I left her there, hastening through the backstage and the employee corridors. Technicians raced here and there while cables twisted through the semi-darkness like black snakes. Up a set of stairs, I found my way to the observation deck and pushed inside.
The half-circle room was aglow with mixing boards and control panels for the special effects. Hunched over these were a half dozen technicians feverishly working, all under the watchful eye of Carter.
She loomed behind them like Patton observing the battlefield, and no war had been micromanaged with such rigid control as the performances taking place on the stage below. Carter was dressed in a short skirt and tight jacket that showed off her chest, her head tilted back as she gazed through the glass window and at the arena below. The crowd swelled and rolled like a wave of humanity as the music thumped through the air. Carter’s lipstick faintly glowed in the blacklights with her satisfied smile.
The sight of her there was faintly eerie. Her reflective glasses mirrored the scene before her with soulless precision until she turned on hearing me step inside.
“Victor. So good to see you,” she said.
“How are things up here?” I asked.
“Exquisite,” she purred, turning back around and gripping the back of the technician’s chairs. “The show is going wonderfully. Here. On the big screens. Flicker the subliminal ads. Let them linger a little longer this time,” she instructed one of the techs.
“Yes ma’am,” the hunched goblin of a man said as he fiddled with a screen.
“Looks good,” I said.
“And what about you, Victor?” Carter said, tilting her head to glance back at me, a coy smile on her illuminated lips. “Going to watch the show here with me? Maybe I’ll even sit on your lap. Front row seats.”
Tempted though I was, I shook my head. “Another time. I’m going to work through the crowd,” I told her.
“Hm. Suit yourself. A good decision, though. I’ve heard you’ve been having some trouble.”
That got my attention. “What have you heard?”
Carter turned to face me, leaning back against the chairs of her subordinates. She crossed her arms and legs, smiling in the infuriatingly knowing way of hers. “Well, Victor, certainly nothing definite. I’d let you know at once if I did. But, I have heard a certain man has had some problems with you.”
“Teklin?” I said. “Do you know anything?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. Only that someone by that name has been snooping around Razer. I told him we do not discuss our contracts with outside individuals. But that doesn’t mean he gave up, does it?”
I frowned. Fuck. It used to be I had issues with my career spilling over into my private life. Now, my private life was doing the spilling. I could NOT let him derail this show. “I’m heading down to the floor,” I said, shrugging my jacket on more securely.
“Keep in contact, Victor,” Carter called after me. “If I notice anything, I’ll let you know.”
I paused for a moment, then got moving again. Would she? That was a good question. I sighed, running my hands through my hair. Fucking hell, I hated Teklin. If I ever got my hands on him, I was going to make him regret all the shit he’d put me and the girls through. I wasn’t a man who enjoyed torturing his enemies. But for Teklin, I could make an exception, and love every minute of it to boot.
And it was only a matter of time now. Soon enough, Dolly would decode the data we’d pulled from Teklin’s servers. Feeling a bit better at the thought of stomping on Teklin’s mechanical windpipe, I passed by security and entered the foyer of the Octagon. The ticket counter was empty as I made my way towards the upper ring of the stands. The music thudded in the air as I slipped out and joined the crowd.
A sea of people awaited beyond. Dark figures in t-shirts, jeans, and too many piercings bubbling with rapt excitement. The music was pretty good, and everyone here knew there was going to be a super encounter. How could they not? It was the entire reason for the event, but no one said it aloud. Doing that would ruin the magic. People were here wanting to be surprised. Entertained.
And the corps were all over that shit.
Huge screens rose all around the stage, two projecting the images of the performers, while two others flickered with ads. The screens cycled, constantly making the audience try and keep up. All around the walls were draped banners with the massive R of Razer Industries, intermingled with other posters of various products keyed to the discerning twenty to thirty demographics.
I circled the back of the stands, walking along walls plastered with posters showing heroines holding up shampoo bottles and heroes with energy drinks, my eyes scanning the crowd and keeping an eye out for any fuck ups.
Not that I wasn’t enjoying the show, but I’d learned my lesson from Glacia’s attempt to premier, and wasn’t leaving anything to chance. As I cruised along the margins of the crowd, I let my powers stretch across the groups that raved at the edge of the arena, my abilities resonating with the metal like the ping of sonar. And there was a lot of metal, that was for damn sure. Plenty of piercings, studs, earrings, chains, wallets, and more. But no weapons I could sense.
I noted security was all over the place. Some of them were Steves, but most were from Razer’s personnel, and a few were likely loaded with either powers or other ‘measures’ to make sure things didn’t get out of hand. I didn’t necessarily trust Carter, but when it came to business I knew she’d do what was best for Razer. And having the concert blow up would be very bad for business. After the debacle at the museum, she wanted a hit bad, and the Songbirds were the last shot with this group. Besides, this whole setup was going to be expensive. Much more than the museum was. No way was she leaving anything to chance.
And neither was I.
I leaned on the railing as a group called the Devil’s Details started playing. Not entirely my style, which is ironic as you’d think I’d be partial to heavy metal, but if it wasn’t at least 14% zinc I had no business with it. But I could appreciate talent where it came in, and knew they’d be a great bunch of bodies to throw at the Songbirds when it came to it. They had that great leather, face paint, and general bodybuilder look that the crowd loved to see get their asses handed to them by pretty girls. They might even be actual demons. I wondered if Mammon knew them?
I shook my head as their set ended and they moved off the stage. Roadies hurried to switch things up, and I could feel a change in the audience building.
The Songbirds came on, and the crowd respond. The place was packed. Standing room only, and their cheers were deafening as Magpie, Goldfinch and Robin took the stage and started to sing. They were pretty good, I wasn’t going to lie. Excellent voices and their skimpy costumes cued the crowd well to the fact they were going to be the heroines to this show. People were good at picking out the protagonists, and foreshadowing who that was going to be was always essential. These days, having funky multicolored hair wasn’t enough. Your bank teller probably had that, so your average protagonist needed a bit more… oomph. I shook my head. Ah well…
I moved down to the ground floor and leaned against the wall by the exit, having an excellent view of the crowd as I let my powers stretch out once again. It was pretty much what I expected. Lots of jewelry, piercings, phones and belt buckles. Some spare change, and though I managed to pick up a couple android components, they seemed mostly cosmetic.
Except for that one.
I zeroed in on the person in question. Well well. What had we here? Looked like a cyberpunk weirdo. Bulky guy with spiked hair, plenty of tattoos, and some sort of visor thing over the eyes. I moved from my spot, pushing through the crowd until I got a better look at him, tuning my powers on him and feeling out his augmetnics. It wasn’t super obvious from the outside, which gave me an immediate bad vibe. Most people who go in for cyborg implants like having them be very noticeable, and that this guy didn’t was a bad sign. There was also a look to him. A certain intensity as he watched the show. Everyone could tell the concert was going to see a villain crash it, and this guy was clearly here for that rather than the singing.
Best nip this one in the bud.
I moved in carefully. I mean, I get it. Seeing the capes on the corporate payroll let the bad guys constantly escape had to be frustrating. And even those independent big heroes in the HoE usually had a no kill rule, which was nice, but didn’t exactly help when villains broke out for the twentieth time and killed a bunch of people with gas infused parade balloons. But come on, don’t take it out on the staged events like these. Go looking in the sewers for some crocodile mutants, or check out the Nights if you want to stop real bad guys.
I sighed. Well, nothing for it.
I got near the punk and deployed my gauntlet from my bracer, the layers of metal clicking into place over my fingers and hand. I tapped the streeter on the shoulder and he turned, pierced lip curling.
“What?” he snapped.
“Let’s have a chat,” I said.
His eyes narrowed. Bingo. No more doubt he was here to try something.
“You with the villain?” he said in a low voice.
“Who wants to know?” I said.
He smirked and turned fully to face me. “I’m Cyberfist,” he said, flexing his arms with a whine of servos. “After an automotive accident, I got fitted with mechanical limbs that give me the strength of a dozen-“
“Yeah, cool,” I said, and plowed my fist into his stomach, giving it an additional magnetic thrust to really drive it home. Cyberfist’s eyes bugged and he doubled over, groaning and vomiting onto the floor. Ew. A bunch of the crowd gasped and moved back as I grabbed Cyberfist, fitting my shoulder under his chest like I was supporting a drunk.
“Aw fuck dude! I told you not to eat the hot dogs here. Fucking hell,” I said, loud enough to be heard over the music. The people around us grimaced in understanding as I shuffled forward. Nothing like the thought of getting puked on by some rando at a concert to clear a path. “’Scuse us. Sorry. Bad food,” I said to anyone in our way.
“Hrnnnn…” Cyberfist groaned as I dragged him along. He started to move, and I saw the fingers of his right hand try and deploy whatever weapon he had hidden in there, but a tweak of my powers wrenched out the power supply to his servos. His arms fell limp again, and he moaned in pain.
“Yeah. Whatever,” I muttered as I dragged him out of the crowd and through one of the side doors. He was lucky he just seemed to be some asshole. If he were working with Teklin, I’d have been much less sympathetic. But I tried to give heroes who came to fuck up my jobs the benefit of the doubt unless it was life or death. In those cases, I wasn’t going to dick around. Fortunately he was a newbie. Probably only ever went up against some muggers or gangsters. No experience with real villains.
I found a couple of security guys near an exit and heaved Cyberfist to them. “Here you go. Looked like he was going to cause some trouble.”
The pair nodded and took Cyberfist, dragging him off to probably get kicked out of the arena. I had little sympathy for the hero. Fucking streeters. Made my life so much harder, and I really didn’t have time to mess around with them.
Because the real show was about to begin.
I wandered back into the arena just as the lights dimmed across the Octagon. Smoke hissed from machines, washing the entire top of the stage in a haze. Lazers flared and I felt the first hint of a headache as Psyren’s powers began to manifest. I saw a bunch of Steves on the instruments begin to play.
And then Psyren’s voice seeped from the speakers and into the crowd like a wave of sound.
“I see you there, across the room
A thousand faces but I just see you
Your eyes so deep, like you’re under my spell
Drawn to me, you can't help yourself.”
I sometimes forgot what a talented singer Psyren was. Her voice was sweet, with that giggly energy that made your chest feel fizzy with excitement, like you’d just ate a mentos and drank some pop. And fuck, if this was the result of just her voice, I could only imagine the effect it and her psychic powers were having on the crowd.
And that was why I could really respect Psyren. She didn’t depend on her powers as a crutch while singing. She was genuinely good at it. She wasn’t satisfied with tweaking brains to make people just think she had talent. She wanted to be good at it in. Sure, she needed a bit of practice as a villain, but as a performer? She could probably teach me a thing or two.
The smoke peeled back like curtains of fog, and there she stood in all her glory. The costume looked stunning even without the no doubt copious amounts of psychic augmentation she was putting on for the audience. The butterfly mask was beautiful, the fabric shimmering in the blue lights and accenting her eyes, her body outlined wonderfully by the skin-tight costume she wore. Highlights of pink and purple flared up and down her figure. Fuck, she had enough sex appeal to give a eunuch a hard on, and I could practically feel the oxygen in the room get sucked away as the audience gave a collective gasp.
Psyren smirked, raising her hand, her voice sweeping through the audience like a wave of psychic force, sending another aching throb through my skull.
“You speak to me, in a hushed tone
My words like music, I can't be alone
You're pulling closer, with every breath
In a trance, forget the rest.”
I glanced over the crowd. They were absolutely riveted. Enthralled. I couldn’t help but chuckle. She was a natural. Our eyes met from across the arena. I saw her wink, and I gave her an approving nod. With a swing of her hips Psyren strutted into center stage, spotlights flashing down, focusing on her like she stood alone in the world. Her hands wrapped around the mic and brought it up to her lips.
“Like a hypnotist, my moves so smooth
You’re under my spell, don't know what to do
I’m in control, you’re just a puppet on a string
Your love is a hypnotic thing.”
The music picked up, the band behind her really getting started. The sound thrummed through the air, vibrating in my bones like steel in an earthquake.
But I couldn’t stay here forever. I needed to get backstage and make sure everything was going well.
I gave a quick glance around but no one was looking my way. All eyes were on the stage and the stunning beauty currently wrapping them around her little finger. I shrank into the crowd and to the back of the stands, then gave my metal bracers a quick push, lifting me into the air. With another push I skimmed around the edge of the crowd and to the side of the stage, landing on the cement near the fencing by the speakers.
A Steve was there, arms crossed, dressed in a security shirt and some mirrored lenses. He gave me a quick look.
“Eyyy, Victor! My man. Trouble?” he said.
“Nothing yet. Just checking things out.”
“Sure thing. Man,” he said, looking back towards the stage with a sniffle. “Ain’t my baby sister the best?”
“She sure is,” I said as I slipped under the divider, working my way around the massive speakers, the thudding bass making the air vibrate with the force of their sound. I moved further backstage, beyond the range of the lights and into the empty back. It was dark here, with nothing but random instruments, some wiring and set pieces from other performers scattered around.
“Magneron?”
I spun, then let out a sigh on spotting Trevor leaning against the wall. I hadn’t seen him at first, but when he moved out of the darkness I saw he was in his supersuit. I gave him a quick once over. The suit was an old spandex style but he wore it well, projecting that classic hero look he stood for, a big CK on the front along with some stars and white. But he looked off, his face drawn tight and eyes hunted.
“Trevor?” I looked around, but we were alone. I moved in closer. “Something the matter?”
“Nothing. Well, maybe not,” he admitted, looking back through the curtains and at the stage. I followed his eyes and could just make out the silhouette of the Songbirds offstage, waiting for their opening. “I was just… you know. Thinking about the job tonight.”
“Hey now. Don’t worry,” I said. “Psyren and the girls are going to do great.”
“Not really worried about them,” he admitted.
“You?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on. You’re a pro! You’ve been doing this for years. You can handle it.”
“Yeah,” he said thoughtfully. “Yeah. I’ve been doing this for years. You know? I first got started in this business to help people. I wanted to be a hero.”
Oh, I didn’t like this. Was he going to flake? He’d better not. “Most people do,” I said. “And you do a damn good job.”
“I do, don’t I?” He chuckled again with that melancholy look. He gestured at the stage. “And yet here I am. Working as the brainwashed minion of a new villainess. Ya know? I used to be someone big. Right? I used to be the hero who fought the villain. Now look at me…” he said, running his hand through his hair. “They’d all be able to see the grey if I didn’t dye it. Can’t keep up with the youngs like I used to. I’m used goods, Magneron. Don’t get much work anymore.”
Little maudlin, but I couldn’t exactly blame the guy. “Well, none of us are getting any younger.” Except for the Greenwich Witch, Mistress of Time, but I was polite enough not to point that out. “And you’ve accomplished more than most heroes ever had. Besides! If this works out, you could be getting in to work as a mentor.”
Trevor gave a bitter laugh. “Oh yeah. And we all know what happens then. Mentors inevitably get killed off for drama or to raise the stakes. I’m not likely to be a fucking mentor for long. They always die. You know that.”
“Carter isn’t going to bump you off for a cliche,” I said, and hoped I put more conviction into my voice than I felt. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t, but given Carter would probably sell her own mother to cannibals if it helped advertise Razer’s new spice blend, I wasn’t going to bet money on it either.
“No. She probably wouldn’t,” Trevor said with a sigh. “I’ll probably be given a retirement watch and shuttled off with a nondisclosure agreement. Unless you’re magic, old men aren’t heroes, Magneron. We’re relics, and those are only good for museums.”
I shifted my weight uncomfortably. This was getting pretty heavy, and was another of those reasons I was glad I was a villain. Unlike heroes, who are inevitably put aside as legacy characters, villains tended to have a long shelf life. The longer the better, actually. Evil didn’t have an expiration date. In fact, the older you were, the more villainous you were allowed to be. And worse for a lot of corporate capes, their names were often owned by their agency. There’d been about ten Captain Fantastics that I’d seen since I started as a villain.
But the markets liked their heroes young. Sucks, but that was the way it was. “Nothing is set in stone,” I said. “Let’s just get through this and we’ll see what can be done.”
“Yeah.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “We’re here now. I suppose there’s only one thing left to do.” He shook his head and looked up at me, his expression grim but firm. “I really am sorry,” Trevor said.
Oh fuck.
I barely had time to try and sock him, my metal-plated fist slamming into his jaw, but Trevor was an old hand at fighting, and his fist was already moving. I tried to dodge even as I deployed my chest plate, but I wasn’t quite fast enough. The blast of kinetic energy hit the metal over my stomach with an orange burst, sending me hurtling back across the stage. I hit the far wall, the impact banging my head and making me see stars. Fuuuuck! Pain lanced from my chest. Probably busted a couple ribs. Son of a bitch!
I barely made out another flare of light and just managed to yank my armour sideways before another blast of kinetic force smashed into the wall, cratering it with a sound like two rocks slamming together. I shook the stars from my eyes as I hovered in the air, looking down at Trevor.
“You bastard,” I growled. “Why?”
“I’m not going to shuffle off into the night that easy,” Trevor said, rolling his jaw as an orange glow of kinetic energy surrounded him, lifting him off the floor with a crackle of power. “I’m not going to retire to a couple hundred a month pension and fade into the dark. If I’m getting out of this business, I’m going to do it with plenty in the bank.”
Everything suddenly clicked into place. “You sold me and Razer out for fucking cash from an arms dealer?” I said. I thought he had more self-respect than that, but keeping him talking had the bonus effect of buying me time to find a fucking weapon. I glanced over Trevor’s shoulder and used my power to lift some spare speakers that were lying around.
Trevor flinched, showing he had enough shame to regret trying to kill me, but not enough to stop trying to follow through. How kind of him.
“I really am sorry, Magneron,” he said, the field of kinetic force he’d wrapped around himself crackling.
“No, you’re not,” I said. “But you will be.”
I swung my hand and sent the speakers flying at him like a pair of juggernaut fists. He caught the motion in the corner of his eye and turned to face them, just in time for the speakers to smash into him. But much to my disappointment, the impact was absorbed and dispersed across his glowing orange surface like a ripple. Shit. That was right. His power could take almost any impact. He looked back towards me and drew back his fist, more crackling orange power gathering in his hand before he let it fly, but I swung out of the way, letting the energy blast crater the wall behind me like a punch from a giant.
“I can’t afford to let you live, Magneron,” Trevor said as we circled each other.
“Fine,” I said, listening closely to the stage. “Let’s dance. We’ve got one song left.”
Trevor hurled himself at me like a crackling meteor. I dropped out of the air, trying to go under him but he switched directions and kept at me. As he flew, I reached out with my magnetic powers, grabbing the girders above us. I pulled hard on one, ripping it out of its place and swinging it hard for him.
The girder hit him like a golf club, sending him flying across the backstage. Trevor hit the far wall, only to rebound like a rubber ball and come straight at me. Shit! A quick flick of my wrist yanked me out of the way and I skidded back across the floor and into the backstage.
The Devil’s Details were there and looked at me in surprise. “Hey. Uh, everything okay?” the lead singer said.
“Fine. Don’t mind me. Mind if I borrow these?” I said, stretching my arm towards a drum set, the cymbals ringing as I magnetically pulled them to my hands.
“Uh, guess not. You sure you’re okay?”
“Absolutely!”
Trevor suddenly burst out from behind the curtain, his eyes blazing with crackling energy. As he grabbed for my throat, I smashed the cymbals on either side of his head.
I could practically see Trevor’s pupils vibrate as he staggered back, trembling from the reverberations of that deafening crash. I stood up, following him, slamming the cymbals on either side of his head again. Again! Driving him backstage with every clamorous blow.
“Aw, do the pretty birds think they can best me? Well, I’ve got some friends of my own!” Psyren shouted from on stage.
Shit! I was running out of time!
“That’s your cue! Get out there,” I ordered the trio of musicians. “And remember! You’re brainwashed and brutal!”
The three gave me a worried look, then nodded and hefted their instruments. With savage grins they bounded out onto the stage, ready to join the Steves against the Songbirds as the first brainwashed foes.
Time was running out for me. Even as they ran I tried to smash the cymbals into Trevor’s head again, but this time he managed to catch them, crushing them in his fists like they were made of paper. “No more of that!” he snapped, raising a fist crackling with power.
I swung myself around by my armour, barely evading the blast, but the twisting motion sent agony ripping through me from my ribs. Fuuuuuck that hurt, but I worked through the pain. I was good at that. But I couldn’t pull the fight out further onto the stage. Psyren’s show was not going to be ruined by this fucker.
But that barrier of his was going to a be problem. Now, how did I almost get him at that auto show those years ago?
Oh yeah.
I landed on the ground, reaching out with my powers and yanking some power cords from a number of instruments. Trevor stopped sharply as I swirled my fingers, wrapping several of the metal inlaid wires around him. My hand clenched, and the cables began to squeeze.
His bearded face tensed as his barrier crackled, spitting energy as I worked it, crushing his shield slowly. Trevor braced himself, bulging muscles flexing, trying to force his barrier to push against the cables.
“That… won’t work…” he said, teeth grit against the strain.
“We’ll fucking see,” I said, raising my other hand. Scattered metal around the stage flew into the air, pulled above me and swirling, assembling into a solid mass hovering above him. Trevor looked up, and I saw the first sign of panic as I raised the massive fist of random metal and brought it down hard.
The impact boomed like a thunderclap, the air shuddering with the force of it. The floor under Trevor cratered, his barrier rippling as it tried to absorb the impact. Before he could recover I lifted the fist and again brought it down hard.
“I… won’t… yield…” he gasped.
“Just shut up and die!” I snapped, raising the fist, and slamming it down again.
He bent beneath the blow, and the orange field around him cracked like glass. Finally. I raised the fist, and once more it came down.
The impact boomed, and his barrier shattered. Trevor gave me a desperate look before he vanished under the mass of metal and plastic, buried in a final thunderous blow.
I gasped, loosening my grip and letting the cables around him release. I raised the fist of metal once more and looked into the hole I’d made. Yeesh. Trevor wasn’t getting back up anytime soon. Or ever, by the looks of things. Well, that was just too fucking bad.
Besides, I had more important things to worry about.
I released my powers on the stage equipment, letting it bury Trevor beneath its clattering mass and I rushed towards the curtain, just in time to see one of the Devil’s Details go flying from a sonic screech, leaving Psyren alone and facing the heroine trio. Shit! This wasn’t good. We needed an out, and my planned one had just been crushed under a couple tons of instruments. Fuck. Fuck!
Well, time to improvise.
I hastily wrapped my magnetic powers around my armour, lifting myself into the air. Cape! I needed a cape. You had to have a cape for a properly dramatic villainous entrance. I spotted a costume rack and grabbed a cape off a hanger, tying it on even as my helmet deployed, covering my face. I had my powers grab a bunch of the equipment I’d been beating Trevor with and had them float around me like a halo of random bullshit as I listened intently, waiting for my chance.
“It’s over, Psyren! You’re coming with us,” Robin shouted.
“Aw, that’s so cute you think so. But my friend has other ideas,” Psyren said.
I cranked up the speakers in my helmet. Well, here goes. “Indeed I do!” I thundered, blasting my voice out across the stage
I jerked my hand, the rings of the curtains magnetically sweeping back to dramatically reveal me.
The Songbirds and Psyren both turned to me in shock. I could practically feel the crowd’s surprise. But no time for that. I needed to get us out of here. This wasn’t a combat job for me. That ship had sailed and crashed into an iceberg. I drifted down out of the air and to Psyren’s side, looking at the Songbirds through my visor.
“So these are the ones who foiled my protégé’s scheme, eh?”
I glanced at Psyren, and she instantly brightened. Ah, smart girl. “That’s right, boss!” she said with an impish look my way as she tucked herself against my side. “I’m sorry, master. You’re not mad, are you?”
My laughter boomed from my helmet. Fuuuck, my ribs. That hurt. But work through the pain. Don’t let it show! “Of course not, my dear student,” I said, grasping her shoulder. “Though these heroes may have foiled us this day, they won’t be so lucky next time!”
“You!” Robin cried, stepping forward. Thank God. I’d hoped the former sidekick knew how to improvise. Considering she’d probably been a part of dozens of villain reveals over the years, I was counting on it. “You’re the one behind this?”
“Indeed! But don’t feel too cocky yet, Songbirds! Though you have won this battle, the war is merely beginning. And now, if you’ll excuse us, we will be off!”
“You’re not going anywhere!” Robin shouted, flames suddenly erupting across her body.
“Yeah!” Magpie said.
“Uh huh!” Goldfinch added.
“Is that so? Then try and stop us!” I declared, and swept my hand towards them.
The studio equipment I’d brought with me flew at the trio. Drum sets, guitars, speakers and more raining down in a barrage of musically thematic missiles. Naturally, I held back the force behind them. I wasn’t here to hurt the heroines.
And I didn’t. Robin lashed out with her hands, sending flaming darts shaped like birds into the barrage of metal. Magpie screamed, rings of solid sound diverting the instruments to send them crashing around her, while Goldfinch threw up her hands, sending… sparkles?
Sparkles that exploded the second they touched anything.
Neat.
A ring of explosions momentarily separated me from the heroines. Alright, that worked. I grabbed Psyren and pulled her tight against my side. “Farewell, Songbirds,” I boomed from my speakers. “Until we meet again!”
“Bye bye!” Psyren said, one arm wrapped around my neck and shoulders as she blew the trio a mocking kiss.
I pushed my armour, lifting me and Psyren into the air. But I needed one last bit here. Something to really remember.
Ah, of course.
With barely a thought my powers grabbed some of the internal components of the gigantic stage speakers and ripped them out. With a blast the massive speakers exploded, raining down sparks in a storm of crackling electricity. The gasp from the crowd made me shiver. Oh yeah. This was what villainy was all about.
But as I rose into the sky, the initial euphoria began to fade. This… might be a problem for sure, and I was going to have to answer for it. Even as I carried Psyren through the air and towards the far docks I was digging with my free hand for my cell. We landed on the pier across the bay from the Octagon, my helmet peeling off with a clinking sound.
Psyren stepped from my side, her face flushed and eyes glowing bright with excitement and her latent psychic powers. No doubt she’d given our exit a bit more zazz to it. Well, I could hardly complain. “Did I do well, boss?” she said.
“You killed,” I said sincerely. “I doubt anyone’s going to forget the show you put on.”
Psyren giggled, squirming in excitement. She twirled about and stretched her arms over her head, looking across the river and towards the distant glow of the stage. “Mmmm,” she purred, hands on the back of her head as she admired it. “Thanks, boss,” she said, then with a frown, “What happened to Captain Kinetic?”
I sighed as I thumbed in Carter’s number into my phone. “He decided he’d rather try and kill me than work on the show.”
Psyren dropped her arms, her eyes flaring red. “What? That bastard! I’ll fucking destroy him.”
“Unfortunately, I beat you to it,” I said as I put the phone to my ear. Barely a ring went by before it was picked up.
“Victor! How good to hear from you.”
“Listen, Carter. About tonight…”
“Ah, yes. I should have guessed this wasn’t a social call. But not to worry. I was watching the little display playing out backstage.”
“You were?” I said.
“Of course! I had cameras looking in. I’m reviewing the tapes now. My my. Seems there were some issues with Trevor, weren’t there?”
I sighed, half in relief and half in exasperation. I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised. Carter wouldn’t have left a project this big go forward without plenty of eyes everywhere. “Yeah. It got… a little crazy. He apparently decided a big paycheck to try and take me out was better than the job.”
“A shame you killed him, Victor. Razer would have loved to discuss the consequences of breaking a contract with us.”
Yeesh. I didn’t know what exactly the conditions were that Razer put in their super’s contracts, but Carter’s tone implied something sharp, and applied to some sensitive areas besides bank accounts. It might have been a mercy what I did to Trevor. “Right,” I said as I looked out over the bay, the water glistening in the moonlight. “So, we’re good, then?”
“Good? Victor! We’re better than good. What we have here is a golden opportunity! Not only did the Songbirds get a fantastic debut, but we also have them facing off against a new villainous organization.”
Fuck. I should have known this would be her angle. “Listen, Carter. I’m not starting an evil organization. I don’t want to. What I did tonight was in order to keep things rolling.”
“Of course. Of course. I understand completely,” Carter said in that jovial tone that told me decisions had already been made and the pens were being inked. “We’ll talk about this later, shall we?”
I rubbed my face with my free hand, feeling suddenly very tired, my ribs a dull, throbbing pain. “Alright,” I said. “I’ll call you later. I’ve got other things to deal with.”
“Of course, Victor. You two have had a rough day. I look forward to discussing the exciting new direction I’m hoping to take this in. Ta!”
The line went dead. I sighed and shoved the phone into my pocket.
Well.
That could have gone worse, I supposed.
I looked out across the waters and to the distant ocean. The stars were out, barely visible next to the glow of Metro City’s lights. A lone lighthouse blinked out on the bay. The only sound was the gentle lapping of the waves against the pier and the dull roaring from the Octagon as the audience vented their excitement from the show.
I tilted my head as I heard the faint jangle of Psyren’s jewelry as she drew nearer.
“I think it went off great, boss,” she said.
“Thanks,” I said, but it was hard to muster too much enthusiasm. I’d managed to make her big exit look good, not to mention haul her out of the event without any extra damage, but I was still worried. I felt like there was some piece still missing. A shoe waiting to drop and kick me in the head.
I felt Psyren slip in beside me, snuggling up against my side. Instinctively my arm wrapped around her, holding her close. “What are you thinking about, boss?”
“A few things,” I said.
“Like Captain Kinetic?” she said.
I nodded.
She scoffed. “What a fucking tool. He should have known he couldn’t take you down.”
Well, he’d gotten the drop on me, and he probably could have taken me under certain circumstances. If I hadn’t managed to get my armour deployed in time, I’d likely have my chest caved in by now and be in the hospital, if not dead. Yet something still nagged at me. If Teklin had known I’d be here, what else did he know?
Here.
At the Octagon.
And not at the chalet.
I felt my body go cold. Oh no. Oh fuck no!
“Fuck!” I gasped.
“Boss?” Psyren said, looking at me.
“The chalet. We have to get back!” I said. “Now!”
Psyren didn’t waste a second questioning. Instantly she wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling herself tight against me. I didn’t argue. My arm holding her tight around her waist, I propelled my armour off the ground with a sudden burst of magnetic force, sending us into the air. I didn’t waste time with my Civic. I didn’t care if some super saw us soaring through the sky or if we got caught on a camera. Speed was what I needed.
Because I had a terrible feeling I might already be too late.