Mauling the Mall
Relieved as I was that I wouldn’t have to deal with the Brain Trust anymore, I still felt a little weird going shopping for a new car.
Not that I was complaining, exactly. I could use one. I just didn’t expect to be buying one from a supervillain surplus lot.
My old Honda Civic had been a reliable beast for years now, it was true. And I had taken pretty good care of it. But the girls did have a point. I wasn’t just some villain that got beaten up now. I was a high-class villain who got beat up. The leader of a coterie of stunning supervillainesses and our evil organization. Kicking my ass was going to be a prestigious thing, and I needed to look the part.
Not that I was going to be slapping nefarious symbols onto the door, or having the hood of the car designed like a skull (fuck but that would be badass. I’d love to drive that kind of car.) But I did need something that actually demonstrated the sort of class of adversary I was now. People treated you as well as you looked. I knew that, and often dressed accordingly, but the sorts of heroes and corporations I was going to be making deals with now expected a certain… sophistication. They didn’t want to think they were chucking their money at some rando. I was meant to embody an organization that could credibly menace top tier heroes. And more than one.
So I had to look the part.
Wardrobe wasn’t really an issue for me. I had a few nicer suits I wore when meeting with heroes and their agents. But the car… the car… The simple fact was that you had to make a good first impression, and if you wanted people to give you real money, you had to look like you worked it. It was about respect. I had to earn the respect in the instant they saw me.
Sure, I did my job well, but I wasn’t so famous I could get away with looking like a slob. Not yet, anyway. For now, I had a product to sell, but that product wasn’t just ‘me.’ It was also the girls. And I would be damned if I was going to make them look bad. They deserved the world bowing at their feet. And although I wasn’t really out for that, the least I could do was not embarrass them.
Investments. That was the ticket.
But I was a bit suspicious about Dolly’s choice in venue.
My first hint this wasn’t your average dealership came when Dolly, Psyren and I got to the Metro Mega Mall and headed straight for the elevator. Once we were crammed inside, Dolly pulled out a card and swiped it against the panel underneath the buttons. A light that wasn’t there before blinked on, turned red.
And we started going down.
I gave Dolly a close look, who bounced on her heels beside me with an innocent look. “Dolly?”
“Hm?” she said.
“When you said discount cars, did you mean…”
“No no! No way, Victor,” Dolly said with quick motions of her arms. “This is totally legal. Really! This is just a surplus sale of extremely legal items obtained in very legal means for perfectly legal sale.”
“You’re saying ‘legal’ an awful lot,” I noted.
“Victor. Victor!” Dolly cried with mock shock. “Surely you don’t think I’d do anything illegal, would you? Come on. What’s a little trust? This is a tech surplus sale. You know how it is. Sometimes the villain gets captured before his nefarious device is quite ready. Or the hero is sucked into an alternate dimension and who’s gonna pick up the tab for all his thematic boomerangs and boxing glove arrows? It’s totally legit. Just not… you know, advertised.”
I eyed Dolly, but she wasn’t wrong, per se. I just wasn’t sure how confident I was going to the equivalent of a supervillain wholesale.
“C’mon, boss. Where’s your sense of adventure!” Psyren said, sliding up beside me, looping her arm in mine and giving me that crooked grin that sent her fans wild. “Who’d dare fuck with you anyway? We could do anything and I could make everyone forget all about it. Not that we’d dare do something bad without your say so. So come on. What’s a bit of shopping between us?” She leaned in closer, her lips an inch from my ear, her voice a teasing whisper. “And I might even find some fun new clothes. Something… risqué.”
Psyren wasn’t exactly helping matters, but there was little for it. We were here. Might as well take a look around. “Fine,” I sighed, letting the pair hang off my arms as the elevator dinged and slid open.
A couple guys stood outside, and the second I saw them I realized I had a another reason to be wary. Both men were not only tough, but rock hard. Literally. Their skin had a texture like tectonic plates, one’s a reddish hue like bricks, the other the hard, grey texture of cement. And they could only be Arman Glint’s boys. Better known as the owner of the superbrawling Rumble Ring, and a man with many a diamond finger in many a pie. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised to know he was running a show like this, but it wasn’t encouraging. I rarely enjoyed our interactions, and Arman always extracted something he wanted when I encountered him.
Fortunately, I wasn’t here to deal with him. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to keep my guard up. There were going to be a lot of sketchy bastards in there. Though if I knew Arman, he also wouldn’t let anyone get away with starting something. He wasn’t the kind of guy who tolerated people flouting his rules. And he wasn’t the kind to monologue threats to those who fucked with him, or tie them to a table with a laser inching towards their crotch. He would simply quietly and politely have the perpetrator dragged somewhere private, and have one of his thugs bludgeon the poor bastard to death with a bag of doorknobs. Clean(ish), efficient, and above all, professional.
Still, better to be safe than sorry.
We headed inside and I took a look about the room. Damn. The place was absolutely massive and just stuffed with the sort of things the Geneva conventions were written about. In one corner I spotted a gigantic robot with a pilot’s cockpit splitting open the chest. In another I saw some barrels I dearly hoped weren’t actually holding the radioactive contents their signs were indicating. Booths filled the place with people hawking wares of deadly purpose and more mundane ones. Gunmetal grey was the order of the day, everything having an unpainted, off-the-assembly line blandness to the sharp sweeps of their machinery. The low drone of conversation rose and fell, and men in dark suits who looked like they paid in pallets of cash moved from booth to booth. There were a few obvious villains in the crowd. Anyone who wore a cape and epaulets in public was either out to conquer the world or had robbed the local theatre company. But there was a grim professionalism about everything that I found reassuring.
“Oh shit! Discount freeze rays!” Dolly gasped, already pulling towards a table run by a guy in a parka and icicles forming on his hooked nose.
“Dolly, we’re here for a car,” I reminded her, even as I followed her to the table. “Besides, can’t you build your own freeze ray?”
“Oh sure. But look at this vintage casing!” Dolly cried, picking up one of the displayed weapons and stroking the surface.
I took a look at it, and had to admit it was a damn fine freeze ray. Smooth casing, resembling those classic rayguns from the fifties, including a spiral muzzle. The blue and white paint was a nice touch.
“It is nice,” I said. “But remember? Car?”
“Pff. We can totally still get that,” Dolly said, then gasped, pointing across the floor. “Sweet zombie Jesus! Is that a genuine Modular Ratheon Kill Bot!”
I sighed. “Dolly.”
“No, Victor. You don’t understand! Those puppies were the best! Prime British engineering. With external speakers! You could blast out some kickass punk rock while beating the crap out of your enemies with a fist shaped like a hammer! They outlawed them after the third Anglo-Atlantean!”
“Looks like the cars are that way, boss,” Psyren said, pointing across the floor.
Finally. “Come on, Dolly,” I said, grabbing her shoulder and turning her towards another cleared area of the floor.
“Awww,” she whined, but allowed me to guide her away from the tools of doom.
A full corner of the warehouse had been given over to the dealers of various vehicles, and I had to say it deserved it. There was a lot of mad science surplus around there. I scrutinized them carefully as we made our way through.
“Look! A Doom Dirigible! That’d be perfect for you, Victor,” Dolly said.
“How?” I said, eying the airship tethered over the floor. “I can fly.”
“Yeah, but come on. Nothing says ‘fear me’ like a pointlessly impressive bag of gas with your logo painted on the side. Works for Goodyear. And I could load it with a shitload of bombs you could drop! Kirov reporting, baby! Who could turn down a giant airship of doom?”
“Me,” I said. “Because I need a car. I can’t exactly hit the drive through for a burger with that thing.”
“That sounds like quitter talk to me,” Dolly said.
“I just need a car,” I said in exasperation. “Not a mobile doomwheel.”
“I think they have those over there,” Dolly said, nodding towards another part of the warehouse. “Vintage models too. Great design. Just one big ass wheel with a bunch of guns on the side. Fantastic stuff! No wonder the Nazi’s used them so much in the war.”
“I’d rather not use old Nazi tech,” I said.
“Is that why we’re not shopping Volkswagon?” Dolly said.
“Hey! What about this?”
Psyren’s voice called my attention to a particular car sitting near the corner. Sleek, black, it was a five seater. Not quite a limo, but it had a great design to it with shining hubs and a curve to the front. It was definitely eye-catching. Sporty, looking like something that came out of a European vanity car manufacturer.
“Not bad,” I had to admit, looking it over.
“And just look at the hood,” Psyren said, sitting her firm ass down on the hood, leaning back with a flirty smirk at me. “Primo stuff here, boss. Just think of it. Cruising around town with your hottest of babes.”
“An excellent choice.”
I turned around sharply to find a familiar figure standing not far. He was dressed in an immaculate black suit that had to have been specially tailored to him, because no normal suit would fit the mountain of a man before me.
Arman Glint smiled, and when he did I was almost blinded. His whole body was made of diamond, the smoky stone distorting the light, and if it wasn’t so gloomy in the basement I doubt I’d even be able to see him. His hands were crossed behind his back, his features rough and heavy like they’d been chiseled from the stone that was now his skin.
“Arman,” I said. “What a surprise.”
“But a welcome one I’m sure,” Arman said.
That was debateable.
“Checking out your investment?” I said.
“Among other things,” he said, surveying the cars.
“Arman!”
Arman grinned wider as Psyren hopped off the car. “Psyren,” he said warmly. “My dear. Always a pleasure to see you. How is the villain life treating you?”
“Oh fantastic,” she giggled, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling herself close against me. “The boss has been so good to me. And I’m learning sooo much!”
“So I’ve noticed,” Arman said. “I can hardly keep my boys focused on their jobs and not glued to their phones. You’ve made quite the impression, my dear. Quite the impression indeed. I doubt there’s a man alive who doesn’t recognize you these days.”
His head scanned the room, and I did too. Now that he mentioned it, Psyren was getting a lot of attention. I mean, even more than a girl with her figure does while scantily clad in punk leather and spikes. Something to file away for sure.
“Yeahuh,” Psyren giggled, nuzzling against my neck. “All thanks to the boss, of course! Finally getting the kind of fame I so richly deserve.”
Arman chuckled, which sounded like someone tossing gravel. “Indeed. A shame to lose you, my dear. But of course, I would be interested in retaining your services for… contract work.”
“What kind of contract work?” I asked, immediately wary.
“Why,” Arman said, spreading his hands before him as if to show he wasn’t hiding a knife to stab me in the back, “nothing harmful of course. But my dear Psyren could clearly move product, if she so desires. And many a man here would be ecstatic to have her model their equipment. A lovely woman atop a car will sell more than a car alone, wouldn’t it? And I assure you,” Arman added with another dazzling diamond smile. “She would be very well compensated indeed.”
“Oooh, sounds like fun!” Psyren said, leaning up, a shiver racing through me as her lips kissed my ear, her voice whispering and husky. “Because I gotta say, bossman, nothing gets me hotter than playing with some weapons. Really gets me in the mood to play with your… rifle…”
Her hand brushed over my groin and I cleared my throat roughly. I wasn’t sure if Psyren was doing this for fun, to make damn sure everyone here knew she was mine, or if the idea genuinely got her horny. With her, it was hard to tell, but it did open up some interesting possibilities for marketing.
“Well, we might be able to work something out,” I said.
“But you gotta go through the boss first,” Psyren said with an amused look at Arman. “He’s the one who gets the final say.”
“I assure you, my dear, no other idea had occurred to me. I can see plainly how close you both are as an item,” Arman said. He reached into his suit and pulled out a card, which looked hilariously out of place in his massive hand. “Here. A direct line. It would be a shame if we had to communicate in more… roundabout ways as before.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking the card and rubbing it between my fingers. I couldn’t sense any metal in it, so no listening or tracking devices. Not that I was too surprised. Arman was a professional, but you never knew… “I’ll keep it in mind,” I said.
“That’s all I ask, of course. Please, enjoy your time at the bazaar, Victor. I do look forward to hearing from you.”
The feeling wasn’t exactly mutual. I could respect Arman. Hell, I did, but that didn’t mean I trusted him. I watched him turn, moving with the ponderousness of a mountain as he strolled away once more into the crowd, head and shoulders taller than anyone.
“Great work, boss,” Psyren said.
“Think so?” I said, tucking the card back into my jacket.
“Oh fuck yeah!” Psyren giggled. “And did you mean it about me advertising stuff?”
I thought about it. It wouldn’t be like she wasn’t doing anything she wasn’t already doing. And truth be told, it would surely be lucrative atop her current gigs. Evil was sexy, as every kid and especially impressionable teenager knew. And Psyren certainly had the look nailed. People would probably fork over money just for the privilege of her attention. Not that I was going to let that fly. I still had some standards, after all.
But modeling as a more forthright influencer might be a good revenue stream. It was mostly heroes out there selling stuff. Most brands could, at best, get an antihero to peddle their product. Straight up villains were a lot harder to get for a variety of reasons, and not just because most were men. And let’s face it, male models were never going to earn the kind of cash women did. I looked Psyren up and down again. Goddam, she’d have agents falling over themselves to appear with their stuff.
“It’s a good idea,” I mused. “You certainly have the chops for it.”
Psyren squealed in delight and bounced up, kissing me hard on the cheek. “Oooh! I knew you’d be game, boss. We’re going to rake in so much fucking cash!”
“We?” I said.
“Natch, boss. Like I said, you’re my agent. And my agent always gets his cut. Mmm. In more ways than one,” she said, her lashes fluttering, lit with the neon hearts within her eyes.
I felt the blood rise at the obvious suggestion. “Well,” I said, my hand palming her ass, making her gasp and coo like a pleased dove. “It’s pretty easy when I have such skilled talent on my side.”
“You know it, boss,” Psyren said.
“Mhm?”
I looked quickly back to Dolly, who had her arms crossed and a smirk on her face.
“Sounds like we need to be looking for a car with a very spacious back seat. You know. For those times when you don’t have time to get somewhere private before having some fun,” she said with a teasing twitch of an eyebrow.
“Not a bad idea,” Psyren said, giving me another kiss before slipping from my arm.
“Like this one!” Dolly said, gesturing grandly at a sitting car.
It sported a sleek hood and chrome wheels. Black paint that glistened in the lights blazing above us. Plenty of passenger seats, no problem with leg space. The grill curled up under the hood, crisscrossed by bars. The top looked like it could even open up. And, just at the front, was even a skull hood ornament. It was a car that looked more like a threat and a weapon than a tool of the road.
“Oh ho ho,” I breathed, moving towards it. “Look at that.”
“That’s right, Victor,” Dolly said, sitting her firm ass directly on the hood and sweeping her hand along the hub. “Chrome based. Reinforced steel and bulletproof glass. And just brimming with fun little additions. I could fit in so many fucking gadgets into this baby, you would not believe it.”
"You think so?” I said.
“Oh yeah! This puppy was designed for it.”
We spent a little longer checking out the cars, with me wincing at the price tags on some of the models being sold. Especially the evil clown ice cream car that looked like it had been shot up in a warzone. Damn, this whole evil overlord plan better pan out or I was going to be in the poorhouse before too long. Well, all I needed was to pick up a big order for our debut as a villainous organization, and we’d be set.
But until then, and no matter how many times Dolly gave me the puppy dog eyes, we weren’t buying them. Still, it had been a good survey of options, and soon enough we were taking the elevator back to the mall proper.
“Now! How about some lunch?” Dolly suggested, tucking herself in against my side as the elevator dinged open and we moved back onto the main plaza of the mall. “I hear the food here’s not too bad. Especially the Chinese place. I’ve been dying to check it out! All the reviews just rave about it.”
“Whatever you like,” I said, my arm moving around her, hugging her against my side as we walked past the burbling fountain.
Dolly giggled, nuzzling me, her woolly hair soft and the smooth hardness of her horns strangely pleasant against my side. “Sounds good, Victor. It’s in the food court, up…”
She trailed off, and I felt her stiffen a bit. I stopped walking and followed her gaze.
She was looking at one of the huge vaulted skylights above the promenade, and through which was a great view of some rumbling, overcast skies. Man, the weather really changed fast around here. But more importantly, there was a person there, floating overhead. A hero by the looks of it. Not exactly uncommon in Metro City.
But... wait. Was that...
Valkyria?
As if sensing my attention, the heroine suddenly aimed her mace towards us.
Oh fuck!
I pulled Dolly and Psyren tight against me and shoved my powers against some nearby trash bins. The three of us skidded across the floor, seconds before Valkyria smashed through the high glass windows, slamming like a bolt of blazing blue lightning into the tiled floor where we’d been seconds ago. Stone cracked, buckling and cratering under the impact. Glass shards fell like sparkling rain, shattering on the floor.
I skidded to a halt near a the garbage bins, releasing Dolly and Psyren as civvies screamed and broke for cover. “Valkyria!” I shouted, gesturing at the heroine incredulously. “What the fuck!”
But even as I said it, I saw something wasn’t right. I could feel it. I’d spent over a decade dealing with heroes in some capacity, and looking at her I could instantly tell that something was wrong. As she rose from her crouch, I noticed she looked too stiff. Too intent. Her eyes were locked on me like a missile’s. Static crackled over her armour and spat off the mace in her hands.
Customers were clearing out of the main plaza in a rush, but Valkyria didn’t even look their way. All her attention was on me. And… was it just me? Or did her blue eyes look a little… red?
“Hey, bitch!” Psyren barked, stepping forward and aiming a finger at the hero. “What’s the big idea? You want to start something? Because we’ll fucking finish it!”
“Yeah!” Dolly said, though she looked considerably more uncertain about this. But she had pulled out some sort of wand from a pocket. It extended with a snap, the tip crackling with static.
Props to the both of them for courage, but they were badly outmatched here. “Shit!” I said, shoving Dolly and Psyren away from me as Valkyria crouched once more, mace angled my way. She suddenly shot at me with another boom of thunder. I yanked my armour from my bracers and ankles, barely deploying it before she swung for me.
I jerked back, evading the swing, but then her hand grabbed me by the throat. We flew backwards with her momentum, and I felt the wall coming up behind us. I hastily repelled my armour off the girders beneath the cement. I managed to slow us, but Valkyria still had enough force behind her to slam me against the wall. The back of my head banged off the cement, ringing, but I managed to see her draw back her mace for another shot at me. I jerked my head to the right, her weapon smashing into the wall behind me instead, pummeling it to powder. Static crackled over my helmet as my mask snicked into place, so I drew back and, with a flick of magnetic acceleration, slammed my forehead against her face. The blow made her head jerk back, blood pouring from her nose as she slowly looked down at me again, but she didn’t loosen his grip. And now that I got a closer look, her eyes did look red. Like red squares were overlaid on her pupils.
“Time to die, Magneron,” she said, her voice curiously flat as she drew back her mace once more.
Oh, fuck that!
I slammed my fist into her, and though I was buff, to her a mere mortal’s punch probably would have felt like being slapped by a feather. That is, it would, except I threw a blast of magnetic force into my gauntlets too. The impact slammed into her breastplate, ripping her off me and sending her flying into the plaza’s fountain with enough force to level the thing.
“Victor!” Dolly cried.
“Stay back!” I said, pulling myself away from the wall, even as Valkyria threw off the remains of the fountain’s rubble, rising to her full height. She glared at me, her eyes intent.
“Attention customers!” a PA shouted, voice distorted. “We have a Super Battle occurring in the main plaza. Please move to the exits in an orderly fashion.”
For once, I was glad for that. In the normal course of things, having a bunch of bystanders hanging around to watch me fight was what I wanted, and what I was paid for. But I wasn’t getting paid for this, and this wasn’t some random ass streeter looking to make a name for himself. I was dealing with a member of the Heroes of Earth, and she was out for blood. And had, evidently, come prepared.
“Boss!” Psyren shouted, ripping off her headphones and glaring at Valkyria, her eyes blazing with neon pink hearts. “Bitch you are gonna pay for that!” she cried, one hand to her brow, the other pointed at the heroine.
I felt the pulse of psychic power ripple from Psyren like someone had just clocked me with a night stick. But Valkyria just looked over at the psychic with a wry smirk.
Oh, something was wrong.
Something was very wrong.
Psyren’s scrunched face fell a little. “I… I can’t read her, boss,” she said. “It’s like there’s nothing there!”
I narrowed my eyes. Those red squares. They were almost like Psyren’s hearts…
Wait.
Wait a second. Was she…
She was being fucking mind controlled!
Oh that was just fucking perfect! Mind control on heroes was hardly a new thing. Pretty much any hero that’s been in the business for more than a year ends up getting their brain scrambled by a villain. It’s practically a right of passage. There were more than a few ways. Between genocidal florists breeding brainwashing pollen and psychics getting bored of bending spoons and trying for minds, you didn’t lack for potential, that was for damn sure.
But though that might give some leniency to heroes at trial, I sure as fuck wasn’t going to get the benefit of the doubt. Oh yes, officer. The superhero that attacked me, a well-known villain, was simply mind controlled. I certainly wasn’t doing any crimes that might have drawn her attention and led to her getting impaled by an umbrella. I swear!
Yeah. That’d work real well.
If this was some fucking streeter, I’d be considerably less worried. But this was one of the biggest heroes on the planet, and even if I could take her down easy, things were about to get very complicated. “Why are you coming after me?” I demanded, trying to draw Valkyria’s attention back to me. “What the hell did I do?”
It worked, Valkyria instantly zeroing in on me again, her smirk falling and face growing grim. “You shouldn’t have kept looking, Magneron,” she said, rising slowly into the air, lightning spitting around her. “You shouldn’t have made it come to this.”
What the fuck did that mean?
“Dolly! Psyren! Get out of here!” I shouted.
“Boss!” Psyren cried.
“She’s after me!” I replied.
Psyren bit her lip, but Dolly grabbed the psychic villainess and yanked her towards the exit. Good, that was one problem out of the way. Now, to deal with Valkyria. Man. This would be so much simpler if she had metal bones.
But her armour might do the trick.
“Alright then,” I said, throwing my hands forward, sending a wave of my magnetic powers at her to try and grasp all the metal she was wearing, but my powers broke around her, radiating outwards like ripples in a pond, like she was a walking null zone.
Which she kind of was. All that electricity buzzing around her was playing merry hell with her magnetic fields. I knew she could do that, but I’d been hoping whoever was puppeteering her didn’t.
Valkyria smirked, clearly realizing what I’d been trying. She spun her mace by the strap, lightning gathering around the spiky head.
Uh oh.
I spread out my hands, letting my magnetic field stretch out all around me and grab the metal in immediate reach. Trashcans, benches, made in China crap on a nearby stall, some racks of clothes, I pulled it all into the air in a mass.
Valkyria narrowed her eyes, her grin becoming a snarl and she hurled the mace at me. It boomed through the air, ripping towards me so fast it tore up the floor with its shockwave.
I pushed myself into the air, repelling my armour off some old pipes. The hammer screamed under me, the wind of its passage sending my legs flying out from under me, the world spinning, vertigo sending my stomach bouncing between my throat and my feet.
Hurp.
I hated that feeling.
I managed to reorient myself, whirling around and flinging my hand towards where Valkyria still stood. In answer, everything I’d pulled in with my powers suddenly flew at her in a barrage like I’d thrown half the mall at her.
Valkyria tensed, her hands clenching to fists at her sides, blue lightning surging up her body, gathering with a crackle. She suddenly threw her arms out, a wave of crackling static blasting outwards from her and smashing aside the rain of metal coming towards her.
She exhaled, blew some hair from her face, then reached out and caught her hammer as it sped back into her hand. She smirked at me.
Fucking show off.
But she’d earned it, dammit. This wasn’t going to be easy by any means.
But hardly impossible. I hadn’t fought as many electric heroes as I had to let some puppet from Valhalla kill me. And I still had some tricks up my sleeve.
I just had to make her come close.
“Not bad,” I said, floating down onto the railing at the top of the escalators. I reached out with my hands, sending my powers seeking the metal in the building around us. “But let’s see how you handle this!”
Valkyria’s smirk faded as the ground shuddered. She jumped up, electricity carrying her into the air as chunks of the floor suddenly ripped up, concrete torn free by their metal struts, rising into the air like floating islands.
Valkyria eyed the mass of crumbling cement, then scoffed, spinning her hammer with a buzz of growing static. “Try me.”
“If you insist,” I said, and pushed my hand out towards her.
The chunks of cement answered my command, the metal within them dragging them through the air and right towards Valkyria. The heroine spun her mace faster, then suddenly rushed towards me.
I wove my hands, sending the massive blocks crashing towards her. The first few missed, but the ones after flew into her as fast as they could. Her mace swung, smashing through them with blasts of blue lightning, shattering them as she plowed through. Slowing her down. But she was still coming. Still coming.
I braced myself, one hand forward, the other pressing into my elbow as Valkyria burst through the final chunk of cement, barreling towards me, her mace up. Here it comes! She swung at me, the mace coming down.
In that instant I sent the strongest blast of magnetism I could through my arm. A field of crackling static burst from around me, colliding with Valkyria’s.
The heroine stopped dead, her mace an inch from my palm, quivering as my magnetic powers warred with her electric charge and super strength.
I grit my teeth. It felt like I was trying to keep a continent from coming down on me. The floor under me buckled, cratering slowly under the forces we were throwing at each other. An EMP pulse radiated outwards from us. Fluorescent bulbs flickered in the ceilings and exploded, raining sparks down onto us in a hail. Registers in shops shorted out, tills spitting open and sending cash fluttering into the air where they caught fire. Alarms went off, wailing. A nearby electronics shop exploded with a series of bangs as tv’s spat out their screens and components.
I could see Valkyria’s grit teeth as she tried to force the hammer down. Tried to crush me under her blow, more static spitting off her.
“Just… die!” she snarled.
“Make… me!” I hissed back.
And flicked one finger up.
A blast of magnetism went upwards like a bullet, slamming into the ceiling. The sprinkler system above us buckled, imploding.
The scream of the fire alarms wailed through the mall. Valkyria looked up, sudden realization on her face along with a flash of panic. But it was too late. Water poured down onto her from the busted pipe.
“Gyaaaaaaaah!” she screamed, her powers shorting out, electrifying her as she was drenched in a sudden deluge of water.
The crackle of her powers broke, and there was nothing holding me back. My magnetic blast blasted into her like a fist of the gods, throwing her off me. She flew backwards, smashing into a nearby Hot Topic.
I gasped, my arms flopping to my sides, every bone in them throbbing with pain. I panted, staring at the spot where Valkyria had crashed. She’d taken out a dozen racks, and now lay in a heap of belts, collars, gothic skirts and what looked like some backpacks sporting some weird looking green dog thing. But she was alive, groaning, her head rolling as she slumped loosely in the wreck of the store, down for the count.
“Holy shit,” I groaned, rolling my shoulder. Goddam, that was a close one. She almost had me there.
“Freeze!”
Oh for fuck’s sake!
I looked upwards and… yep, there they were. The entire main squad of the Heroes of Earth descended through the hole in the ceiling. Mister Invincible led the way, dropping through the hole, arms crossed, while Hot Stuff came in on a blaze of flame, fists boiling with magma. The Rubbernecker bounced through after them, hands inflated to massive fists. I spotted the Brute leap inside, dangling from some broken support beams by one hand like a monkey, and oh goody, even Olympia made an appearance, leaping down onto the floor with a bang.
Fucking hell, this was just what I goddam needed. Especially considering what a bad look this was for me. I glanced over at Valkyria, then back at the heroes.
“So,” I said, raising my hands. “This looks bad. But-“
“Step away from Valkyria and surrender, Magneron,” Rick demanded. “Unless you want a fight. Do you?” he said, looking a little too eager.
“No. Look,” I said, knowing it was useless, but having to try regardless. “This is a misunderstanding. She attacked me first!”
“We will not ask again. Surrender at once!” Olympia shouted.
“And if I say no?” I said.
Rick glared down at me, his hands bunching into fists. The other heroes looked ready to start something, and I scanned them grimly. Could I fight my way out? Maybe. Though the Heroes of Earth were one of the strongest groups around, with Valkyria down and the sheer amount of metal around me, I could probably make a go of it. Or at least make a villainous retreat. That most of them were wearing or using a fair bit of metal would only make things easier.
But that wasn’t what I needed.
If I started a brawl with one of the major super groups in the world, guaran-fucking-tee that wouldn’t be the end of it. I’d have every major hero on my ass, and if that happened, the only chance I’d have was to go full villain.
And I’d worked too hard to let that happen.
Besides, I was reasonably sure I had my story. The mall didn’t exactly lack for security cameras. There was plenty of footage of what went down.
“Dolly?” I murmured into the radio in my helmet. “Did you and Psyren get out okay?”
“Yeah, sure, Victor. We got separated for a few minutes but we’re together. But I just saw a bunch of heroes go through the ceiling. What’s going on in there?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Head back to the lair,” I said, keeping my eyes on the heroes as I slowly raised my hands. “I’m just going to have a chat with the Heroes of Earth. I’ll meet you at the chalet.”
“If you say so, Victor. But if you’re not back within six hours, we’re coming in to get you.”
I snorted. I really did love those girls. “Hold off on the invasion plans for now. Something’s fishy about all this.”
I killed the radio feed, peeling back the armour of my helmet. “Fine. I’ll come quietly,” I said to Rick. “But I want to stress the fact I did nothing wrong.”
“If that is so, you have nothing to worry about,” he said.
Ha! I couldn’t help but laugh at that, which only made the heroes tense further. Still, I let them come down around me, Mister Invincible producing a pair of sturdy mag cuffs. I rolled my eyes but let them stick them on me. It had been a long time since I’d done a proper perp walk. Olympia certainly got into the spirit, shoving me towards the gaping hole in the mall’s front doors.
“Move!” she snapped.
I rolled my eyes.
Ah, memories.