Short Story: Surreal Estate
Tales of Hero City Collection
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Wordcount: 11111 (I can't believe I got it to land on that)
Synopsis: When superhero duo, Omi and Cron, have their secret hideout wrecked by their nemesis Annihilator, they're only left with one option.
They have to go house hunting. And, as it turns out, it sucks just as much for supers as it does for normal people.
AO3 Link, for those that want it:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/63766957
Full Story Under The Break
Surreal-Estate
Cron and Omi stood on a high walkway, overlooking The Bunker. That was their name for their secret hideout, like The Watchtower or The Justice Cave. In reality, The Bunker was just an old mining cavern, 100 yards wide in every direction, excavated by their hands. It was dark and grim, with enough rough girders connecting the various platforms for it to be mistaken for a collapsed building site. But everything they needed for hero work was there. On one platform were two motorbikes, armoured and sleek for missions, on another a large computer, blinking with lights, and on a third, a training dojo, all sandbags and weights.
It was home.
Of the pair, Cron was the taller, wearing a red and silver wrestlerâs mask with matching spandex tank top and trousers. Half a purple gem was set in the maskâs forehead, and a short black beard protruded from his chin, his visible skin tone indicating he was Chinese. His body was muscled and burly, practically straining against his suit in places, exposed arms almost naturally flexing.
Beside him was Omi, lean and wiry, but there was power in those limbs. Thin and bendy like a gymnast, fingers like a pianist flexed anxiously. The other half of the purple gem was mounted on his forehead to match his partner. He too was Chinese, probably, looking past the mask, but he was clean shaven, his suit a strong silver and blue to contrast Cron, and his outfit had sleeves.
And below them lay Annihilator.
Annihilator was a giant robot, and also a prolific supervillain. A hulking form, almost twelve foot tall, and made from enough armoured metal to be mistaken for an upright tank. The machine had bestial reversed legs, arms tipped with drill claws, and two massive spikes protruding from its back like horns. A tail extended from its rear to help its balance, while its skin was industrial iron, coated with rivets and dents. The word Annihilator was painted across its midsection, though only the A, H and R were original to the design, black and burned in by branding. The other letters had been added on with pink spray paint, spelling the name across its chest. It was a strange mixture of machine and monster, with the furious power of both and none of the patience. The only part that was less intimidating was its head, which was a small security camera enclosed in a glass orb, one that swivelled around to look at things.
The orb was currently on a small shelf nearby, detached from the body.
âSo, we actually captured him?â Omi said doubtfully.
âHey, we got lucky,â Cron answered, his voice deep and calm.
âMaybe too lucky. This feels like a trap.â
âBut it hasnât sprung yet, has it?â Cron snipped, then took to logic instead. âLook, we found him while he was⊠sleeping. Canât you take that as some good fortune, Omi?â
He knew âsleepingâ wasnât the right word. Theyâd found Annihilator while he was offline, recharging itself, and managed to get the head into a box before it could reactivate. Theyâd then used their bikes to drag the body back to base.
âAnd how is this good fortune? What are you planning?â
âItâs an opportunity, Omi,â Cron slapped him on the back. âYou use that big brain of yours to dismantle the bot, I smash what needs smashing, then thatâs one less supervillain in the world. Makes sense?â
Omi stared in shock. âYou want me to kill it? But we donât kill people!â
âThat thing isnât people,â Cron argued. âItâs not even one person. Persons canât tear tanks apart with their bare hands⊠Well, I can, but thatâs not the point. Besides, we donât have to actually âkillâ him-â He did air quotes- âIf we leave the head and just dismantle the bodyâŠâ
âHe could still be punished, but he wouldnât be a threat to anyone anymore,â Omi understood.
âThatâs it. Now get down there, use that big brain, and disassemble him.â
âUm, pardon?â Omi looked alarmed. He, himself, was going to have to climb down there? By himself? Near Annihilator? Near the giant killer robot?
He cooled his fear with some rational thinking. Heâd checked, and as far as they could tell, the body was non-functional⊠but who could tell with a robot. The little camera lay dormant, its lens pointing down, asleep, for lack of a better term. Even so, it felt like climbing down to perform surgery on a sleeping tiger when you were a mouse. One swipe andâŠ
âHey, Omi,â Cron called when Omi was halfway down. âWhat does A.H.R mean?â
âWhat?â
âThe letters on Annihilatorâs chest? The original ones. What do they mean?â
âAutomatic Helpful Robot,â Omi recalled, shouting back up. âSupposedly, the big lug was designed to be a helper robot, for chores and such. Unfortunately, that didnât work out. As you might have guessed, something went wrong.â
âHuh⊠A helper robot with drill claws and laser cannons?â
âMaybe he was really a mining robot?â Omi shrugged. âThere isnât much info on it. Also, itâs difficult to tell how much is self-modification. Heâs been an active villain for almost three decades now, upgrading as he goes.â
âThat long huh?â Cron sighed to himself. âWell, letâs put an end to that streak.â
Quietly, Omi reached the lower platform. His tools were laid out nearby, but it was still an intimidating sight. The beastly robot was splayed out, its limbs overhanging the edges of the platform. And up close it felt so much bigger.
Omi grabbed some tools and made his way around to the head end. There was an empty socket where the camera globe should be, and he could see the various weapons hidden beneath sliding plates of the armour. He lifted a blowtorch, and as carefully as he could, lit the flame. It flared and hissed, and he had to fight the urge to switch it back off. But the robot stayed silent. He looked to the camera globe on the shelf. It didnât move. Omi breathed out  a sigh of relief.
âTo work,â he said, then raised the blowtorch to the plating.
A little red light started blinking inside Annihilator.
âERROR! ERROR! DAMAGE DETECTED! WHATâS GOING ON?â the camera whirred to life. It span in its ball like a confused hamster, then finally settled its lens on Omi. Omi span and aimed the blowtorch at the ball. When nothing further happened, he unclenched slightly.
âWe meet again, Annihilator,â Omi said as grandly as he could. He was shaking.
âDESIGNATION: OMI. DESIGNATION: THREAT. I WILL KILL YOU!â Annihilator growled in a flat monotone. It shuffled in its orb, like it was trying to move its arms. It looked down. âOH!â it realised.
âYep. Youâre nothing without your body,â Omi said with a smirk.
âAnd soon that body will be in pieces,â Cron added, leaping down to join the conversation.
âDESIGNATION: CRON. DESIGNATION: THREAT. IâLL KILL YOU TOO.â
âTry it, rust bucket,â Cron sneered. He picked up a large wrench and smashed it against Annihilatorâs shoulder plate.
âDAMAGE! DAMAGE! STOP THAT!
âNo.â Cron stuck out his tongue.
âDonât tease the death robot,â Omi chastised, then turned his blowtorch back to its work.
âENGAGING REMOTE CONTROL!â Annihilator announced.
Omi and Cron faced the head, then hurriedly turned to defend against the body.
Nothing happened.
âBUGGER!â the head groaned.
âRight. Should have said,â Cron remembered, pointing to some machinery above. âI turned on that signal scrambler thing. You know the one?â
âOh. Good work,â Omi panted, his heart slowing again. âI really should have sorted that.â
âWell, good thing thereâs two of us,â Cron punched his shoulder. Gently.
âNOOOOOOOO!â Annihilator cried in a low flat roar. In its ball, the camera began to spin fast, whirring wildly, its motors screaming at super speed. The camera was just frantically revolving, round and round, having a futile tantrum. Soon it was a blur of movement inside, and Omi and Cron decided to ignore it so they could begin.
Inside its ball, the camera continued to pick up speed, spinning like a washing machine. Then, unseen inside its globe, the camera stuck out some little pins. The pins anchored, threading like needles into little holes, and all that spinning became momentum. Like dropping a spinning tire onto a road, the orb shot forwards, launched off the shelf, hit the floor, bounced, ricocheted, bounced again, rebounded off Cronâs head, and then landed neatly in the bodyâs neck port.
As Omi helped Cron back to his feet, they both stared up, the giant, armoured form looming over them like⊠well, like a giant robot.
âBODY REINITIALISED. SYSTEMS ONLINE. CONCLUSION: YOU TWO ARE SCREWED,â it roared flatly, raising its screeching drill claws.
âRun!â Cron yelled and pushed Omi clear. A claw tore through the platform like it was paper, and was followed by laser fire as cannons unfolded out of Annihilatorâs shoulders. Omi and Cron dove behind a computer bank, taking cover as blasts cascaded in all directions. Annihilator roared, actually a pre-recorded dinosaur noise from a film, and lashed out at everything within range.
âWe need to stop this!â Cron yelled, poking his head up to assess the situation.
âWe need to get out of here,â Omi argued.
âWe canât abandon The Bunker. Itâs our home.â
âItâs our place of work, and you know it.â Laser blasts flew high overhead.
âAlright, but stillâŠâ Cron accepted. He paused. âWhat is that rust bucket aiming at? It knows where we are.â
Cannons were firing, but not one shot had come close to them. Omi slowly poked his head out. Annihilator was aiming upwards, firing like a madman, like a cowboy shooting his guns in the air. The robot was even repeating âYEEHAW!â in its flat mechanical voice.
âSeriously, what is it aiming at?â Cron poked his head out as well.
Omi looked up. âThe roof!â he cried in dreadful realisation.
The plasma bolts were pulverising the ceiling, vaporising boulders. There was a terrible creak as a support girder came loose and fell, dust pouring from above. Pouring from the mountain they were underneath.
âWe need to get out of here!â Cron agreed. âBikes!â They both ran.
Annihilator spotted them and diverted one cannon towards them. Cron punched the ground, pulling loose a metal plate the size of a table cloth. He held it like a shield as plasma bolts thudded, sounding like a steel drum. Protected, the two heroes ran for the bikes.
âINQUIERY: DO YOU WANT TO KNOW MY FAVORITE GENRE OF MUSIC!â Annihilator called over the gunfire. Neither hero answered. âROCKET AND ROLL!â the robot finished. A panel shifted on its back and a single missile fired upwards.
Omi heard it. He was still carrying the blowtorch. He threw it. With supernatural speed and accuracy, the blowtorch intercepted the rocket, detonating in the air.
The explosion shook the cavern. Boulders and metal platforms dropped from the ceiling, crashing into the floor below. The cave rumbled as it came apart. Annihilator stopped firing, but only because his footing collapsed. Omi and Cron reached the bikes, jumped on, and sped off down a ramp. Boulders rained around them, everything shook, the narrow paths swinging violently as the pair danced their tires across them. Then, with a final burst of speed, they reached the escape tunnel and made it out into the open midday sunlight.
Five seconds later the roof caved in behind them.
The pair kept going. The mountain their base was under was imploding. They kept going until they were well clear, about half a mile out, then stopped and turned to see the damage.
The entire mountain slope was gone. Just a vast pile of rocks. Other than the fact it was still rumbling, and a few stray girders were sticking out, there was no evidence there had ever been a hideout there at all.
At the edge of the rubble, a rock exploded. Annihilatorâs drill claws made short work of it as the robot strode out onto the slope. His camera span around, searching, but it didnât see anything. It raised a metal fist triumphantly.
âANALYSIS: VICTORY. THAT IS WHAT YOU GET!â it proclaimed, then took off loping across the mountain range.
Omi and Cron came out from behind a rock and examined the terrible scene.
âWeâre going to need a new hideout,â they said in unison.
* * *
 âAre you sure about this?â Cron asked, following Omi across the rooftops.
âItâs the best bet I can think of,â Omi answered, shrugging while flipping over a gap.
âWill we even be welcome at the Guild of Heroes? Weâre not exactly members.â
âYes we are,â Omi corrected.
âWhat?â
âWeâve been members for years. I signed us up when we first started.â
âReally?â
âYes. Iâve just never convinced you to go to the meetings, and I couldnât exactly go on my own. Weâre a team.â
âWell, you could have mentioned it,â Cron grumbled. âHow much does membership cost?â
âDonât worry,â Omi reassured. âThe Guild is run off charitable donations.â
Cron narrowed his eyes. âYour charitable donations?â he interrogated. He knew his partner too well.
âUmm⊠Oh, weâre here,â Omi changed the subject.
They stopped at the edge of a roof overlooking an old, abandoned theatre. It was off the main roads and mostly out of sight from houses, with old decrepit warehouses on three sides. It truly was a bad place for a theatre. But outside, many people were queuing. Most were wearing any clothing that theoretically looked inconspicuous. Of course, by the sheer number of them it looked incredibly conspicuous indeed. Under many of the garments, spandex and brightly coloured cloth could be seen.
âAnd theyâll know how to get a new hideout?â Cron asked.
âPresumably?â Omi guessed.
âAlright.â The pair dropped to the street below and approached the door.
An officious looking man in a blue super suit was standing beside the entrance. Rather than abs on his suit, he had squares like door panels, and there was a golden handle attached to one hip. The logo on his chest was a blue door with an explosion behind it. As people entered, they were flashing cards at him and he was letting them pass.
âName?â he said in a nasally voice, intercepting the pair before they entered.
âWho are you to ask?â Cron demanded, trying to sound important.
âI am The Door Man,â the man countered, sounding even more important. He emphasised the âTheâ as if he was the greatest person there. âAnd you donât get in without my say so.â
âWeâre heroes, arenât we? We can go in,â Cron said, using his outfit as evidence. Door Man just looked venomous.
âWeâre also members of the guild,â Omi said, pulling Cron back.
âNames?â
âOmi and Cron.â
âOh, like the Greek letter,â Door Man grinned. âThatâs clever.â
âWhat Greek letter?â Cron said in dull confusion. âWeâre Team Cronomi.â
Omi nodded in agreement.
Door Man just stared, confusion wrapping about his face but not making it into words. Finally, he surrendered, and turned back to the clipboard he was holding.
âIs this your first time here?â he asked.
âYes,â Omi answered.
âThen Iâll need you to answer a few questions first. Then youâll be given an access card and youâll be free to attend as and when you like.â
As heroes passed them, they were all flashing little red cards. Even while dealing with Omi and Cron, one of Door Manâs eyes was keeping track of them.
âIf we must,â Omi shrugged.
âFantastic,â Door Man grinned politely. âFirst question: What are your names?â
Omi and Cron paused for a moment.
âSuperhero names will do, not real names.â
âIâm Omi. This is Cron,â Omi pointed to each of them in turn.
âGood, good.â Door Man wrote it down. âWhat gender do you identify as?â
âBit personal,â Cron mumbled.
âBoth male,â Omi answered.
âAs Iâd guessed, but one canât assume,â Door Man muttered. âSexual orientation?â
âOh, why do you need to know that?â Cron complained.
âIn case of love potions, enhanced pheromones or siren songs. Trust me, it does happen,â Door Man said matter-of-factly. âI do have a box to tick that just says âN/Aâ?â he suggested.
Cron sighed. âIâm gay. Heâs bi. Happy?â
âItâs just for the documentation, sir,â Door Man soothed. âRelationship status?â
âOh, come on-â
âIn case of kidnappings,â Door Man explained.
âUm, dating? Living together?â the two heroes said in awkward unison.
âOh, you two are a couple?â
âNo, no, no,â Omi corrected hurriedly. âJust living with our own partners⊠separately. We could never date.â
âExactly. Iâd never date him,â Cron agreed. âWeâre nothing alike.â
Door Man eyed their identical outfits, their similar mannerisms, and the identical half jewels on their foreheads. He cooly moved on. âOkay then. Next, are you humans or aliens?â
âHumans,â Omi answered.
âGood, good,â Door Man purred again. âAnd what are your powers?â
Omi stepped up grandly. âI have superhuman reflexes and aim, capable of hitting any target with any thrown object.â
Cron stepped up beside him. âAnd I am a master of the combat arts, with fists of steel and strength to match. Together we are-â
âCronomi!â they finished in unison.
Door Man barely reacted. âOne throws things, the other hits things,â he muttered as he wrote.
Omi and Cron both slumped a little.
âSource of your powers?â Door Man continued. âI have boxes for âPracticalâ, âMysticalâ or âBiologicalâ.â
âUmâŠour powers come from two halves of an ancient artefact,â Omi tapped the jewel on his forehead.
âEach of us has half, two halves of a true warrior,â Cron said proudly, pointing to his own.
Door Man considered it for a moment. âIâm just going to put mystical.â He ticked a box. âVery well, thatâs my last question. You may head in, and your entry cards should be ready by next monthâs meeting.â
âCool. And do you know where we can get information on new hideouts?â Cron asked bluntly.
Door Man thought. âWell, this place is my hideout⊠sort of. As long as I pay rent.â He furrowed his brow. âIâm sure you can find out inside,â he smiled, then began to professionally ignore them again, returning his attention to the other passing attendees.
Team Cronomi headed in. Inside was a fairly regular abandoned theatre, with ratty seats and creaky old floorboards. A long table with coffee services had been set up to one side, with a few heroes making use of it and a box of doughnuts that was already empty. Other heroes were taking off their secondary disguises, revealing their superhero outfits beneath, the cloak room absolutely flooded with trench coats and hoodies. Many were already sitting, drinking their coffees. There were maybe a couple dozen in attendance.
Eventually, the house lights lowered. Not by much, a bulb could have just gone out, but a spotlight fell on the stage. From one side, an angelic figure emerged, complete with white robes, golden-blonde hair, a halo, and wings. He approached the mic, tapped it a few times for silence, and then waited. The chatter continued. He tapped the mic again. No reaction. Anger grew on his features.
âCould I have some quiet, please?â he asked politely. âSome quiet?â
No response.
âI said SHUT IT!â he screamed, his halo briefly becoming horns.
The room fell silent, everyone sat still in their seats. The speakerâs halo returned.
âThank you all for coming,â he said sweetly. âAs always, I am Sanctimony, chairperson of the Guild of Heroes. Now, we have some important business today, but before we get to that we have a few small topics to address.â He produced some notes. âFirst on the agenda, we have yet again received a request from the Sidekickâs Club to make them an official subdivision of the guild. Weâll again vote by show of hands. All in favour?â
No one moved.
âAll opposed?â
Every hand other than Omi and Cron went up.
âMotion denied,â Sanctimony accepted. âGood thing too. Those sidekicks can strike out on their own if they want recognition.â
There was a general murmur of assent.
âSecond matter, maintenance. Cleaning around the guild has gotten terribly lax. I hate to call anyone out like this, but if said cleaners donât get their act together, they will be fired. I believe the cleaners responsible areâŠâ He checked his notes. âThe Sidekickâs Club.â
âI guess that explains the state of the toilets,â someone commented.
âTalk about a dirty protest,â said another.
Sanctimony cleared his throat. âLook, everyone, get your sidekicks in order, or else theyâre not using this space for their club.â
âGood luck,â someone answered dryly.
âOkay. Now, onto new business,â the angel proceeded. âToday we have some very special news. We have three new members joining the Guild. Our first new member has been in operation less than six months. Allow me to introduce, Judge Me!â he read from a card.
âItâs Judgement!â a loud whisper came from offstage.
âOh. Sorry. My printerâs not great,â he apologised. âAs well as that though, we have two long time members, first time visitors, Omi and Cron, who are sat there in the third row.â
A spotlight came down to show the two heroes. They waved awkwardly until it turned off.
âAnd now, Iâll welcome our newest member, Judgement, to introduce herself,â Sanctimony bowed out of the way, as a woman emerged from the far edge of the stage.
She had dark skin, slicked-back black hair, and a black and yellow suit with an eye mask. She was muscular, slightly chubby, and couldnât have been a day out of her teens. She stood before the mic and cleared her throat.
âThank you, Mr Sanctimony. I may be new to this, but I am happy to be accepted into such a pleasant community,â she said, recalling each word of her speech. âI hope to live up to my own heroes, such as Chorus, Justice Man, and my Mum.â She paused, half-expecting a laugh. None came. âAnd so, in their honour, Iâll be here to bring⊠judgement upon the wicked,â she winked, trying out the catchphrase.
The entire room held back a groan, which while unheard, could certainly be felt.
âI look forward to working with you. Thank you,â she finished and left the stage.
Sanctimony applauded, returning to the mic.
âWell, isnât she a gem,â he said in a twee tone. âAnd, since she did mentioned Justice Man, we may have a bit of a surprise in-store later,â he teased.
The entire room groaned silently again. Of course Justice Man was going to show up. He always did.
The spotlight returned to Cronomi, and Sanctimony turned to the pair.
âDo the two of you want to share any words of wisdom?â
âNo, but thank you for the offer,â Omi avoided, blushing under his mask.
âDo you know where to buy a hideout?â Cron called.
âThat⊠can be discussed later,â Sanctimony dismissed, in a âThat isnât my departmentâ sort of voice. The spotlight turned off.
âVery well. If there isnât any other pressing business-â He paused, awaiting an interruption. None came. â-then maybe we should open the floor. Or maybe⊠the ceiling?â
No one moved. Someone coughed.
âI said âOpen the ceilingâ?â the angel said sharply, someone missing their cue. After a hurried whispered argument, and Sanctimony realising it was him, he unsubtly pushed a lever with his foot. A trap door in the ceiling squeaked open.
Three seconds later, Justice Man burst in four feet to the left of the opening. Masonry and wood cascaded down about him.
âGreetings, everyone. I have arrived!â Justice Man proclaimed, wearing his iconic orange and blue suit, his massive build having done a lot of damage. The audience upgraded to an audible groan.
Silently, Sanctimony walked up, gave him a âWe will be having words laterâ glare, handed over some cue cards, and left the stage. His horns reappeared as he grumbled.
Justice Man didnât notice. He stepped up to the mic and worked his way through the cards.
âWelâŠcomeâŠ.ladies andâŠ..gentlemen,â he recited at a speed of one word every couple seconds. âI am theâŠ.famousâŠJustice Maâam.â He squinted at the card but didnât correct himself. âI haveâŠcome before youâŠtadaâŠWait. That says todayâŠ. to talk to you about⊠magic safety.â
In the wings, Sanctimony was talking to Watch Man, a hero with a giant eyeball for a head who provided part of the security for the event. Mainly the watching part.
âWhat is he doing?â Sanctimony hissed.
âYou did say your printer was broken,â Watch Man said, his eye rolling to look at the angel.
âBut those cards are hand written.â
âIn cursive?â
âDamnit!â
For the next twenty minutes, Justice Man tripped and trudged his way through a five minute speech. He got words wrong, adlibbed a few jokes which didnât make sense, and then finally declared everyone should eat healthy as a moral for the evening. Cron applauded. The second he was finished, Sanctimony reappeared and hurried him off stage, then returned to the mic.
âWould everyone please adjourn to the communal area,â he sighed.
The communal area was actually a mouldy ballroom, no longer used for dancing. All the heroes funnelled in, some talking business while others just caught up. It was quite the selection, some heavy hitters. Theyâd already seen Justice Man, but there was also Stealth Watcher, Fist Puncher, Big William, Undead Woman, Heavy Hitter, The Unknowable Helmet and also the mentioned Watch Man. Most were steering clear of Watch Man though, as his single giant eyeball freaked most people out.
âLots of heroes here,â Cron said, navigating the crowds.
âYeah. A lot of big names,â Omi admired.
âWell, maybe not big names,â Cron scoffed. âOther than Justice Man, theyâre not all thatâŠâ He froze, almost dropping his coffee. âOh. My. God!â he gasped.
âWhat?â
âItâs Wandering Fist!â he exclaimed, pointing a finger across the party. âHeâs, like, my idol.â
âBecause he punches things just like you?â
âYes! Oh, I have got to go and talk to him. Will you be alright on your own?â
Omi rolled his eyes. âIâll be fine.â
âYou sure? Maybe we should find you a hero to talk to. What about Gun Shooter? He hits things from a distance too, doesnât he?â
Omi scowled. âLook, just go and speak to your obsession. Iâll stay here. I donât need to talk to some âcowboyâ like Gun Shooter.â
âHowdy,â said a voice behind him.
As Cron left, Omi had to restrain a squeal as he turned to the silver cowboy superhero.
* * *
When both Omi and Cron had extricated themselves from their celebrity crushes, mainly by the celebrity hero leaving, they reunited to tell their amazing tales. Cron was clutching a signed headshot like a child would a teddy bear, while Omi had been given a souvenir bullet with Gun Shooterâs name on it. They then tried to remember why they had come, when another hero approached them. It was Judgement.
âHey, guys,â she greeted. âYouâre the two other newbies, right?â
âYeah. Pleasure to meet you,â Omi said, extending a hand. She shook it firmly. Very firmly.
âIâm sorry, I didnât catch your names. Up on stage, my head was kind of swimming,â she smiled.
âWeâre Omi-â
â-And Cron,â they said with practiced synchronicity, striking a pose.
Impressively, Judgement kept a straight face. âThatâs⊠neat. Iâm Judgment. A bit obvious, I know, but it works for me. But you two have a cool name. Omicron.â
âCronomi,â Cron corrected seriously. âSounds cooler.â
Judgement paused. She opened her mouth to say something. She didnât.
âSo?â she asked instead. âWhat can you guys do? Powers-wise, I mean.â
âWell,â Cron recovered. âOmi here can throw objects with deadly accuracy.â
âAnd Cron here can hit like a train with iron fists,â Omi explained.
Judgement nodded. âOh, so youâre like two halves working together? Complementing each other and such,â she said brightly.
âThat we do,â Cron affirmed. âWatch this. Great shoes, Omi.â
âYou look great today, Cron,â Omi returned. He winked at Judgement playfully.
âOkayâŠâ she moved on. âIt must be interesting, working as a pair.â
âIt is,â they said in unison.
 âAnd how are you at each otherâs skills?â
âTerrible,â they said together.
âReally?â
âYeah,â Cron smiled sadly. âOmi canât land a punch.â
âAnd Cron throws like a girl⊠no offence meant,â Omi added.
âNone taken,â Judgement smiled in a strained way.
âSo, what can you do?â Omi asked politely.
âOh, me?â Judgement perked up. âSuper strength, flight, energy blasts.â She mimed the last one.
âNice combo,â Cron admired. âWhere does all that come from?â
âOh, my powers just developed when I was young. My Mum hasnât a clue what happened. Bit of a mystery, honestly. What about you two?â
âWe found the Ancient Eye of Tombacoo,â Cron described like he was telling a tale. âThe jewel was hidden in a cave in a mountain in China, and the crystal gives us our powers.â He pointed to the gems on their foreheads.
âAnd how did you find that?â
âWe were out spelunking, guided by the hand of fate,â Omi explained.
Judgement nodded sagely. âAh, yes. Destiny does weave its strange web.â
âNo, not destiny. The Hand of Fate,â Cron corrected.
âHuh?â Judgement asked flatly.
âThe Hand of Fate,â Cron said slowly.
Omi nudged his partner into silence. âItâs a person, Judgment,â he explained, âHeâs magic or something. Mystical.â
âAll robes, supernatural aura, floats a few feet off the ground. Canât miss him,â Cron described.
Omi gave a confirming nod. âHe, supposedly, goes around pushing people in the right direction towards their origin stories. Where they should go, directing heroes to poignant moments, sometimes just encouraging the right people to do the right thing at the right time. In our case, he gave us government permits to explore that cave.â
âReally?â Judgement stared. âThatâs⊠weird.â
Omi agreed. âYeah. No one really knows why. The popular theory is heâs carrying out the whims of fate, like he can see the future or some crap.â
âPersonally, I think heâs a nutbar,â Cron stated.
âBut he just gives people powers? No reason?â Judgement checked. âI never met him.â
âFew do,â Omi said reverently. âBut thereâll be a few heroes in this room who did.â
âYou think so?â Judgement looked around, as if she could spot them. She couldnât. âWeird.â
âSo, you fought much crime yet?â Cron changed the subject.
âHmm? Oh, yeah!â Judgement nodded. âMainly thieves and thugs so far. I almost fought a crime boss once, but then the police got involved. No supervillains yet.â
Cron gave her a gentle punch on the arm. âAh, youâll get there.â
âThanks. What about you two? Sanctimony said youâd been members for a while, but this is your first visit? That must mean youâve been in the game for some time, right?â
âAbout five or six years, I think,â Cron guessed.
âSeven in the spring,â Omi said more accurately. âWeâve fought a fair few enemies. A few supervillains too.â
âCool!â Judgement clucked. âSo, you two must have an official nemesis by now, right?â
âOh yeah,â Cron said proudly. âOur nemesis is the vicious Annihilator.â
âThat massive robot guy? Wow. Thatâs impressive,â she admired.
âActually, thatâs why weâre here today,â Omi admitted. âWe tried to capture Annihilator, but he escaped and totalled our secret hideout. We were hoping to ask around if anyone knew how to get a new one.â
Judgement lit up. âOh, I was asking the same thing, new to the business and everything. Thereâs a stack of cards on the table.â She pointed to the catering.
âCards?â
âYeah. Business cards. Theyâre from that Cosmo Derringer guy. Apparently he drops them off every so often to drum up business. Theyâre free, first come, first serve.â
Omi and Cron froze, blinking in surprise.
âWait. The Cosmo Derringer. The real-estate magnate?â Cron exclaimed.
Judgement nodded understandingly. âYeah, I know. Apparently the rumours about him are true,â she said, sharing in their surprise.
âApparently,â Omi agreed, equally confused.
* * *
 Cron and Omi crossed the plaza towards Cosmo Tower. Or, more appropriately, Li Shang and Steven Johnson crossed the plaza, as they were in their civilian clothing. They were both just wearing jumpers with jeans, Li in Cron red, Steven in Omi blue.
They crossed the plaza towards the grand Cosmo Tower. It was an imposing sight, the second tallest building in the city after the Pinnacle Building. The tower was faux wood panelled the whole way up, mixing oak with shining glass and gleaming lines of steel. It was a thing to behold, with its golden C.D. logo embossed about ten stories up.
Cosmo Derringer had class, if nothing else.
Everyone knew about Cosmo though. But they knew in the way they would use the word âAllegedlyâ. He was alleged to have done things, allegedly, and allegations were always being made. But thatâs all they were. Allegorical.
Cosmo was rich as Croesus though. He owned half the cityâs buildings, and was surprisingly nice. This of course made everyone suspicious. He even kept rent low, which raised the question of how he stayed so rich. No one knew, allegedly.
The rumour went that, bored of usual real estate, heâd turned to the illicit stuff. Not drug labs or murder basements, no, but secret lairs and bases, for heroes and villains alike. Not that anyone could prove it. The man was a vault of secrets, and so were his lawyers. And one alleged thing he was known for, was that those who tried to breach his confidentiality, tended to disappear. But that was just a rumour, allegedly.
Or maybe he really was just a very good businessman. Who could know for sure?
Cosmo Tower was a hive of activity, full of workers, visitors and businessmen, as Omi and Cron entered the lobby.
âI canât believe the rumours are true,â Cron grumbled, struggling to look inconspicuous.
âI didnât believe it either. That a success like him would be involved in âSpecial Interest Dealingsâ,â Omi answered, actually managing to look inconspicuous.
âSpecial Interest Dealings?â
âSuper stuff,â Omi whispered.
The pair had debated if they should arrive in their costumes or civilian clothes. A sign outside put a stop to the debate. It read:
âNo identity obscuring clothes of a superhero nature will be permitted in the building. We apologise for any inconvenience.â
Omi and Cron, or Steven and Li, crossed the lobby, the room decorated with more mahogany than theyâd ever seen. Black marble floors shone dark and an elegant gold water feature sat near the middle, winged serpents spouting water over each other. There was a help desk to one side, run by a weary, grey haired, hook nosed receptionist. There were also various information screens around the place, putting her out of a job. Omi approached one such screen beside the fountain.
âHello, and welcome to Cosmo Tower, how can I help you today?â a voice greeted, and a holographic woman appeared. She was generic in appearance, with few significant details, but was dressed in the receptionist uniform.
âUm⊠hello?â Omi said nervously.
âAre you here for business, the tour, for work, or for another reason? Speak or press the appropriate button on the panel,â she said in a synthetic but charming voice.
âUm⊠business, I guess.â Omi pushed the button on the screen.
An array of scanner lasers covered the pair, and Cron almost punched the console in alarm.
âData card detected,â the computer stated. âPlease input card so we may better understand your needs.â
âOkay?â Cautiously, Cron slid the Cosmo card into a slot.
âReading card⊠You are here for the âDiscreet Housing Initiativeâ? Please confirm.â
âUm⊠confirm?â Omi confirmed.
âConfirmedâŠâ There was a moment of silence as the computer thought. âYouâre in luck. There is an opening in the schedule today. Please take your card to the elevator and scan it when prompted. It will take you to the appropriate waiting room. Your maximum wait time will beâŠâ the computer processed, âseventeen minutes.â
Omi and Cron took the card and headed to the elevators. There were five, interiors all brass and wood, with a touch screen where the buttons should be. It read âScan card now.â
Cron did so, and the lift closed and began to rise. It was smooth and silent with no annoying music, and deposited them on a floor about halfway up the building. A waiting room. There were luxurious comfy seats, another computer terminal, a pool table, and a wide window that showed a glorious view of the park.
âLush,â Cron whistled.
âIndeed,â Omi agreed.
âWelcome,â the computer woman projected from the terminal.
Cron flinched, raising his fists.
âCosmo Derringer is in another meeting at the moment. He will be with you shortly. Please avail yourself of food and drink,â she gestured, and a panel opened with plates of food inside.
âNo thanks,â Omi said.
âSame here,â Cron agreed, though he looked tempted by a plate of shrimp.
The food bar folded itself away and the computer woman vanished.
Cron turned to his partner. âAre we really sure about this?â
âI donât think the Guild would share his cards if he was a fraud,â Omi considered.
âTrue. But do you think we can afford this?â
âI hope so. The card says thereâs an offer for first time buyers.â
âWhat does that mean? It could mean anything.â
âItâs better than nothing.â
âWeâre not a charity case,â Cron snipped. âWe donât need that sort of help.â
Omi scowled. âYou didnât complain when the Hand of Fate gave us our powers.â
âWe earned our powers,â Cron snapped. âThe Hand just pointed us in the right direction.â
âWeâd never have found that cave by ourselves.â
âWe might have.â
âOkay. We might have,â Omi conceded, not willing to argue further.
They waited a few minutes, until the elevator finally stopped on their floor. Doors opened and there were three figures inside. One was a young, black woman on the cusp of leaving her teens, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. She was slightly chubby with frizzy hair, and for a moment Omi thought she looked familiar. He dismissed it. The second figure was an older woman, clearly the girlâs mother. She was wearing more sensible, more formal clothes, and cooing politely on her daughterâs behalf to the third.
The third figure was a face Cron and Omi had seen before. On billboards and magazine covers. One that was in dozens of newspapers and mentioned in hundreds of articles daily.
âIt was a pleasure meeting you both,â Cosmo Derringer said charmingly. âThe lift will take you to the lobby and the complete contracts will be with you in a few days,â he smiled.
âOh, thank you, Mr Derringer,â the mother said, shaking his hand. âWhat do you say, Judith?â She turned to her daughter.
âThank you, Mr Derringer,â the younger woman said quietly. It wasnât shyness. She had clocked Omi and Cron, and seemed anxious talking in front of them. Cosmo clocked her glances, smiled, and then stepped out of the elevator.
âWell, I have some business here, so good luck and enjoy your new property,â he bid them farewell. The elevator closed and the women descended.
Cosmo turned with a warm grin to the two heroes. âSorry about that. A bit of other business.â
Cosmo Derringer was a tall, thin man wearing a brown suit and a black tie. He was healthy and fresh faced, his body thin from exercise and clean living. His hair was short and brown on the edge of black, but combed within an inch of its life and set with product, while his teeth gleamed white when he smiled. His green eyes shone with genuine excitement, and his latte-tan skin refused to wrinkle as he grinned. He smiled confidently at his latest clients.
âSorry. Were you waiting long?â he asked, coming over to shake the two heroesâ hands.
âOnly a few minutes,â Omi said, releasing the strong handshake.
âGood, good. Did you try the crab puffs? Our chef here is to die for.â
âThere were crab puffs?â Cron looked to the closed food panel.
âWeâre fine,â Omi said definitely. Cron ignored the puffs and nodded.
âVery well, straight to business,â Cosmo accepted. âYou two are here for the âDiscreet Housing Initiativeâ, correct?â
âUmâŠâ Omi stopped, suddenly thinking about prying ears. âOh no, Mr Derringer, we were just enjoying the view,â he said too loudly, shooting Cosmo a wink.
âWe⊠donât know what youâre talking about,â Cron followed along, tapping the side of his nose conspiratorially.
Cosmoâs smile didnât break. He just raised a hand to stop them.
âGentlemen, you donât need to worry. Purchasing a new lair or hideout is stressful enough without having to worry about confidentiality. Your heroes, or villains, I donât judge, but on my honour, anything said in this tower, stays in this tower. Iâve done business with dozens of supers, good and evil, trust me, your secrets are safe here.â
âAnd weâve got your word on that?â Cron judged.
âI can give it to you in writing if you want,â Cosmo joked.
âWe do hope thatâs true, Mr Derringer,â Omi said nervously. âItâs a lot of faith to put in someone. Itâs our secret identities, Mr Derringer.â
âPlease, call me Cosmo. And yes, I understand, I do, but weâre not going to make any progress without a little trust. So, what are your names?â
Omi and Cron paused. They looked at each other awkwardly.
Cosmo continued to smile. âLook, Iâm going to have to call you something,â he stated. âIf nothing else, youâll need to sign something on the contracts.â
There was a pause as decisions were made. And they were made, by Cron, as he couldnât see a way around it. He took a deep breath and spoke.
âFine. Iâm Li, and this is Steven,â he said bluntly. âWeâre⊠Cron and Omi.â
âOmi and CronâŠâ Cosmo tried to recall. His eyes lit up. âOh! The duo!â
âYep,â Omi confirmed.
âAnd you have a cool team name too. Team something.â Cosmo snapped his fingers to remember. âTeam⊠Cronomi!â he exclaimed. âThatâs wonderful!â
âYouâve⊠Youâve heard of us?â Omi said in disbelief.
âAnd you got our name right,â Cron added.
âWell, Iâd be a poor businessman if I didnât keep an eye on the landscape, and you two have been rocking that landscape. Rivals to Annihilator, two halves of a single perfect warrior, but with the balance of two. Extraordinary. So, youâre in the market for a new hideout?â
âUm⊠yes? Our previous one is⊠a bit damaged,â Omi hinted.
âCompletely destroyed, huh?â Cosmo understood. âAlways sad when that happens. What was it? Warehouse? Industrial building? Garage?â
âAn old mining cavern we excavated. It collapsed on us.â
âImploded might be a better word,â Cron clarified.
âI see,â Cosmo stroked his chin. âI didnât sell you that cavern, did I?â
âNo. We found and dug it out ourselves.â
Cosmo clapped his hands together. âExcellent. That puts you in line for the 10% First Time Discount. Itâs quite the savings.â He expanded a toothy grin. It was almost blinding.
â10% off?â Omi considered. âThatâs pretty good.â
âNot bad,â Cron agreed. â10% off a fortune is less of a fortune.â
âOh, you misunderstand, itâs the other way round,â Cosmo explained. âThat offer means your purchase will only cost 10% of its asking price. Special offer.â
Omi and Cron stared agape at him.
Cosmo smiled brighter, almost laughing. âI know, I know, it sounds unbelievable, but, to be fair, it is only available for your first purchase. There is a lot of turnover in this business, so I get paid properly with the repeat gigs.â
âI⊠suppose thatâs true,â Omi recovered first, appreciating his honesty.
âI wonât look a gift horse in the mouth,â Cron accepted. âEven if maybe I should.â
Cosmo eyed him keenly. âA sceptical mind, Mr Cron. I appreciate that. But sceptical or not, we have business. With me, fellas.â He led them back to the elevator.
All three bundled into the lift, though there was still tons of room. Cosmo swiped the panel with a card and they began to descend towards the 26th floor.
âWhatâs on Floor 26?â Cron asked.
âSomething special,â Cosmo preened. âYou see, I used to meet clients at the sites, touring them around their lairs personally. But, as you can imagine, it was a challenge maintaining security, not getting spotted, syncing schedules with supers. And the number of times I almost got caught wasnât funny. So, to avoid such troubles, I had my boys install a hologram suite right here in my tower, to remotely show people what theyâll be paying for.â
âOooh, what kind of holograms? Hard light or regular light?â Omi asked interestedly.
âSomewhere in-between.â Cosmo shook a hand ambiguously. âYouâll be able to touch and experience the properties, but if you push too hard you may slip through.â
âInteresting,â Cron said, stroking his chin too look like he understood. âAnd say, were you down here with those two women from before? One of them looked familiar.â
Cosmo caught him with a smirk. âSorry, fellas, but I donât reveal client information. I wonât even tell you what kind of business they were here for, special interest or otherwise. You wouldnât want me telling the next customers about you, would you?â
âRight answer,â Cron approved, as the doors opened onto Floor 26.
Floor 26 contained a single, simple room. Incredibly simple. There was no furniture or features or anything, besides a black pedestal at the centre with a tablet placed on top. The walls and floor were a shiny obsidian, with blue lights along the seams of the floor and ceiling. As they stepped out and the lift closed, they were enshrouded on all sides by the strange technological blackness.
Cosmo however was undoubtedly in his element. He strode over and picked up the tablet, and with a few finger flicks, the walls sparkled to life.
âI think I know just the thing for you two,â he said.
The sparkling in the walls became a glowing array of lights. The beams met and overlapped, forming shapes and layers. Within seconds, the room changed shape and began to take form. It became a large apartment, half house and half dojo, with thick hessian mats, Japanese sliding doors, training dummies, couches, and black-glass windows. There were even potted plants in the corners.
âSo, what do you think?â Cosmo asked.
âWow,â Omi gasped. âItâs beautiful.â
âItâs a nice training area,â Cron admitted.
âWhat? Oh, right. Yeah, itâs a nice apartment,â Omi realised, having been admiring the hologram tech.
âSituated in uptown, this hideout is discretely hidden in a high rise building,â Cosmo presented. âPlaced in a key city location, it has easy access to main roads and thoroughfares. Do the two of you have vehicles?â
âTwo bikes. Theyâre pretty multipurpose,â said Cron.
âWell, this place has underground docking bays suitable for all vehicles, as well as secret elevator shafts to discretely get to and fro. Soundproof, bulletproof, youâll be able to slip in and out and train to your heartâs content.â
âAny bedrooms?â
âTwo, with on-suite facilities and also a separate guest bathroom. And, in case of repairs, the landlord can be counted on for absolute discretion.â
Cron whistled at the room, nodding in approval. Then he turned to look at Omi, who looked less than thrilled. Not unhappy. Just contemplative. Cron understood.
âAny scientific facilities?â he asked for him.
âOh, is one of you a scientist?â Cosmo said brightly, already appreciating his mistake.
âMe.â Omi raised a hand meekly.
âI see. Oneâs the brains, the other the brawn. A perfect team,â Cosmo admired.
âItâs just, there doesnât seem to be much room for him to do his work,â Cron explained. âItâs all fighting, no thinking, you know?â
âNo, no, I understand completely.â Cosmo smiled, raising a hand to stop any worries. âThis was just a first pass. Iâd have been amazed if Iâd got the sale on the first try. You want something more scientific? I think I have just the place.â
With a press of a button, the image around them changed. It became something of a modest apartment, with a lab set up to one side. Neat and tidy, it was all black worktops and laminate floors.
âThis oneâs roomy, you could set up a gym as and where you like,â Cosmo suggested, âand with both lab and casual facilities, it should be the perfect home away from home, for fighting crime. And itâs certainly secure.â
âWhere is it?â Omi asked.
âI canât tell you until the paperwork is signed. Itâs that secure. Itâs a special location, which Iâll have to move if its discovered,â Cosmo explained. âBut, it is near the coast, sea air and accessible by boat, and ready for anything-â
âAre we in the Ferris wheel at Super Land?â Cron interrupted, peering out a simulated window.
âUhhhâŠâ
âYeah, I can see the big Justice Man coaster. And the Stealth Watcher themed swing ride. Oh! And thereâs the Wandering Fist teacups ride! When are we going to get our own ride, Omi?â
âI think weâve seen enough of that one,â Cosmo said, pressing a button, and typing a note to remember to close the windows next time. âSo, nextâŠâ
The image changed and they were standing in a metal space. Dark and slightly damp, there were computer consoles, a few chairs, and some very wet looking rugs. They seemed to be in the control room of a large vehicle, the light outside filtering in through dark water.
âA sub?â Omi guessed.
âNot just any sub. This oneâs unique. I got it in trade from a supervillain, their underwater base. Itâs an Intellitron original, with all the fittings. Beds in the back, science facilities, full weapon capabilities, and space for your bikes too.â
âItâs certainly⊠spacious,â Omi admired.
Cron shook his head. âThe feng shui is bad.â
âFen shui?â Cosmo curled an eyebrow. âAre you an expert?â
âI donât like to brag,â Cron theatrically brushed his nose.
âAn interesting skill,â the salesman inspected him. âDid you learn that back in your homeland?â
âWhat? Chicago? No.â
âI⊠um⊠â Cosmo stopped himself. He shut up.
âHe learned it from a bloody magazine,â Omi hissed. âHas no clue what heâs talking about.â
âThe feng shuiâs not right,â Cron insisted.
âOh, just move on. Heâs like a dog with a bone when he gets an opinion like this,â Omi groaned.
âMoving on,â Cosmo concurred. âIâve got plenty more. Give me your gut reactions.â
A button press and they were in some kind of ice cave.
âFormerly owned by Winter Lord, I hear itâs lovely in the summer. Air conditioned.â
âNope. Too cold,â Omi shivered despite the hologram.
âHeâs a menace with the thermostat,â Cron grumbled.
They moved on. In a moment they were surrounded by lava.
âFormerly owned by The Torch, this magma cave doesnât require any central heating. And, it has built in security, intruders falling into lava,â Cosmo offered.
âI canât work out in heat,â Cron dismissed.
âHero City must have interesting geology to have ice caves and lava,â Omi added. âAlso, Iâm pretty sure weâd melt.â
âNext.â
They were in a not massive empty room. The ceiling was slanted on either side, so they were in a roof.
âA loft residence in the warehouse district? Incredibly low rent and a scenic view?â Cosmo gestured to a skylight.
âItâs very⊠open plan,â Omi said politically.
âI donât see a light? Does it even get electricity?â
âItâs a fixer upper,â the realtor smiled.
He moved on.
Next, they were surrounded by crystals. Everywhere.
âOooh, a crystal fortress. Iâve heard of these,â said Cron.
âYeah, but can you imagine the cost,â Omi countered. âWe canât afford something like this. And this canât be in the city. Imagine the commute!â
Cosmo pressed on. They were now in a house.
âSecret lab behind a bookcase in a suburban home?â he offered.
âWould we own the house?â Cron asked.
âNo.â
âNext.â
They were suddenly surrounded by dizzying lights and colours. If they looked closely, they could see glass walls beyond.
âA pocket dimension inside a glass bottle?â
âNo,â Omi said, trying not to throw up from the lights.
âWhat happens if you take the bottle inside the pocket dimension inside the bottle?â Cron asked curiously.
âJust donât,â Cosmo warned. âJust donât.â
The image changed.
âCave full of bats?â
Cron and Omi just stared at him.
ââŠNo,â Cron said obviously.
âOh my god, so much guano,â Omi retched.
âMoving on.â
Cosmo pressed buttons. They appeared in a cavernous chamber with metal walls and water running into a large vat. A walkway ran around the middle, ladders stretching between  levels. The three of them stood, overlooking everything.
âIs this a sewer?â Cron blurted.
âHear me out. I assure you itâs as clean as can be imagined,â Cosmo intercepted. âLocated near midtown with access across the city via abandoned, unused sewer tunnels, all tunnels put in by me, that donât connect to anything else.â
As if in argument, a boot floated past into the water tank.
â-Though public works might change that,â Cosmo admitted. âVast space, easily customisable. Not a luxury apartment, but bedrooms and other living facilities can be installed. And, once your technology has been retrieved, youâll never want for cooling systems again.â
The water bubbled pointedly as gas escaped somewhere.
âNo, Mr Derringer,â Cron said flatly, âyou can talk it up all you want, but this is a sewer. We might not be able to smell it in this hologram, but I can imagine it. I can imagine it vividly.â
âYeah. Sorry,â Omi agreed. âAnd now youâre two in a row on shit smells.â
 âOkay, okay,â Cosmo laughed. âIâm not surprised. Weâve held onto this one for quite a while already. Itâs a difficult sell-â
âI couldnât guess why.â
â-but next, I have something I think youâll really like.â
âSo you were showing us stuff you knew we wouldnât like?â Cron noted.
âWell, Iâve got to try and sell the duds,â Cosmo shrugged.
The image changed and they found themselves in a wide open space with a long, straight road running down the middle. The roof was bowed like a modular military building, all grey and simple, and with no furniture. There was just a large hanger door at one end and a small door at the other.
âWhile perhaps not our most beautiful property, this should be perfect for your needs. An old abandoned airfield, underground, located downtown, it was buried generations ago, the city built on top of it. Secret entrances in three locations, all activated by remote control, with full bed and bath facilities in the back. It was originally a secret testing facility, but personally I can see it as a lab, a training dojo, and perhaps even a lounge area. A truly customisable space. Itâs certainly spacious enough to accommodate any and all needs. And, the best part, thereâs room for expansion, if you ever decide to invest in larger vehicles.â
Cosmo held out his arms to emphasise the space. His voice echoed as if they were really there, not in a small room in Cosmo Tower.
Omi and Cron looked around, their minds whirring. They could see it. Cron could imagine a dojo, dummies in one corner, maybe a garage for their bikes. Omi could envision a lab with all his equipment, and, importantly, a large seating area where they could relax. Maybe even bring the boyfriends round. They both turned to each other, communicating with eyes alone what they thought.
âItâs perfect,â they said in complete unison.
âI knew youâd like it,â Cosmo smiled broadly.
âCan the hologram show us the bedrooms?â
âOf course.â Cosmo pressed a couple of buttons.
Like they were on a conveyer belt, they moved across the room and ghosted through the door. The bunks were standard military fare, but there were two rooms, each quite large and each with their own on-suite bathroom, obviously retrofitted for display.
âWhat do you think?â Cosmo asked.
âCertainly could use a lick of paint, but Iâm not complaining,â Cron said, already planning how to decorate his room. âAnd the feng shui is on point!â
Omi rolled his eyes. âI love it too,â he said.
They shared one last look. âWeâll take it,â they said in perfect harmony.
âAlright then,â Cosmo beamed. He pressed buttons and the hologram dissolved back into the little black chamber. Cosmo guided them back to the lift. âI know you two are enthusiastic, but letâs not settle until weâve discussed price. I recommend we go to my office for that.â
âOf course, of course,â Omi agreed, coming back to reality a little. Heâd been imagining how to tile the bathrooms.
The trio returned to the lift, swept back up the building, and stepped out into Cosmoâs penthouse office. It was a single massive room with windows on three sides, though they were all one way glass. A red carpet led from the elevators up to Cosmoâs desk, made from more mahogany, with golden detailing and Cosmoâs C.D. logo across the front. Cosmo glided across the room to his desktop, hitting an intercom button.
âNancy, could you send up the contracts for Property 619?â he asked politely.
âYes, Mr Derringer,â the voice of the computer terminals downstairs replied.
âYou call your computer Nancy?â Cron wondered.
âItâs simpler than some clever acronym,â Cosmo sighed.
âAnd this is all secure?â worried Omi.
âTrust me, gentlemen, nothing could be more so. All files are stored in a secure lockbox. No employees are even aware it exists. I alone can access it, and even then only through Nancy. They are for my eyes only and purely for record keeping.â
âWe can only hope,â Cron doubted.
A slot opened and a metal box emerged, popping like toast. Omi jumped at the suddenness. Cosmo took it, opened it, and looked at the file.
âHere we go. We can work out mortgage rates later, but the overall price should be this.â He scribbled down a number on a bit of paper. The heroes looked at it and their eyes went wide.
âSeriously?â Omi said.
âAnd this is with the discount?â Cron gasped in shock.
âOh, apologies,â Cosmo said hurriedly, and took the paper. He crossed out a zero. Omi and Cronâs eyes went wider.
âBut itâs so low?â Cron said, slightly alarmed.
âEven without the discount, thatâs well within our price range,â Omi added. âWhatâs the catch? There has to be a catch,â he rambled, his joy punctured by sudden paranoia.
âOther than maybe a little mould damage in the rafters, there isnât one,â Cosmo answered.
âBut⊠why?â Cron said, struggling to form words.
âWhy what?â
âWhy sell us something like this? Why sell super lairs at all? Why do this sort of thing?â
Cosmo stopped and thought for a moment. He put his hands together, steepling his fingers, considering his answer. Finally, with a readying nod, he responded.
âI sell and buy secret lairs for the same reason many people let me continue. My work instils a little order into what was a chaotic business. Villains who find a hiding place, set up shop, and then six months later another villain finds the same place and a turf war breaks out. Heroes getting into arguments over who owned which clock tower. It was madness. I provide management to it all. Less overlap. Less conflict. And, I get to make a tidy profit. Itâs as simple as that.â
âHuh,â Cron thought for a moment. âI guess it is,â he accepted.
âNow, I have the contract right here, if youâd like to sign,â Cosmo returned to his beaming salesman nature. âWe can discuss payment later. Iâd recommend signing with your civilian names. The address isnât specifically listed so thereâll be nothing to connect you. The contracts are mostly boiler plate anyway, but do feel free to read them.â
âAnd when do we gain access to the hideout?â Omi queried.
âAs soon as the contracts are signed. Failure to pay will result in repossession, of course, but thereâs no dangers to your identities either way, even if you stiff me. I know Cron here was thinking it,â he smiled.
âCanât say I wasnât.â
Cosmo produced the contracts, which were promptly signed. He then handed over another box, this one containing two devices that looked like garage door openers.
âHere are your keys.â Cosmo handed them over. âTheyâll open the doors to your lair in a radius of 50 feet. And this will lead you to the lairâs location.â He handed over a GPS.
âThank you, Mr Derringer,â Omi said, almost in disbelief.
âIt really is appreciated,â Cron agreed, polite as a stone.
âThink nothing of it, gentlemen. Itâs only business,â Cosmo smiled like a wolf. âNow, if that will be all, Iâll bid you a good day.â
âThanks again, Mr Derringer,â Cron repeated, shaking his hand, and then both him and Omi headed for the lift.
Outside the building, Steve and Li walked back across the plaza.
âWow,â Cron said in disbelief. âWhoâd have thought it?â
âYeah,â Omi agreed as they headed home. âSomething so rare and amazing in our city?â
Cron quirked an eyebrow. âWhat? A man who sells super lairs?â
Omi shook his head. âNo. An honest real-estate agent.â
* * *
A couple of days later, Omi and Cron headed to the coordinates in full hero gear. The door opener opened a secret entrance beside a disused garage, revealing a long sloping tunnel down. They descended, riding their bikes in.
The hangar was just as it was in the hologram. Large, grey, but now with added mustiness. Derringer hadnât lied about the mould, but it was nothing they couldnât fix.
What they hadnât expected was their stuff to already be there.
Computer banks from The Bunker, a large screen already installed into a wall, the platform for their bikes positioned in a corner. Training dummies, lab equipment, small bits of memorabilia. Even the sofas and chairs had been installed. It was all there, right in the places Omi and Cron would have put them.
âBlimey, he works fast,â Cron said in shock.
âHow did he even move all this stuff?â Omi wondered.
âWell, Nancy did most of it,â Cosmo answered behind them.
âAHH!â Omi and Cron almost jumped out of their skins. Cron raised fists while Omi held a screwdriver, ready to throw.
Cosmo laughed. âApologies, gentlemen, I just wanted to stop by and drop off your contracts. I still have the code for your door openers, so I let myself in. But feel free to change those codes,â he said casually, producing two contracts.
âWill do,â Omi affirmed nervously, putting the screwdriver down and taking his contract.
âAlso, very nice outfits,â Cosmo continued, admiring their suits. âIâve never seen them up close before. The red, blue and silver works well. Striking. I especially love the jewels on your foreheads. I suppose those are the source of your powers?â he guessed.
âYep, they are,â Cron confirmed.
âAnd how did you come about such a find?â
âHand of Fate,â they answered in unison.
âAh. That one,â Cosmo understood. âFrom my understanding, heâs responsible for a lot of my business.â
âHave you done business with him yourself?â
âCron, you know I canât answer that,â Cosmo reprimanded playfully.
âThought Iâd take a chance,â he shrugged.
âMr Derringer,â Omi raised his voice. âHow did you get all our stuff here? Most of it was buried,â he asked.
âAs I said, Nancy did it. Our science division has a few drones for her to pilot. I use them for more clandestine arrangements, to avoid alerting my workers. It was quite the excavation though.â He nodded at some of the consoles, which were still strewn with rock dust.
âWe didnât even tell you where it wasâŠâ Omi whispered.
âThank you so much, Mr Derringer,â Cron said brashly, slapping Cosmo on the back.
âItâs quite alright,â Cosmo said, trying not to get winded.
The conversation was interrupted as a computer sparked to life, a siren blaring.
âHuh. You installed that too,â Omi considered, heading over.
âTHREAT DETECTED. ANNIHILATOR AT LARGE,â the computer announced.
âWell, looks like itâs time for some payback,â Cron grinned, cracking his knuckles.
âThen Iâll leave you boys to it,â Cosmo dismissed himself. âIâll see you around.â
âThanks, Mr Derringer,â Cron said again, but by the time either of them looked, Cosmo was gone.
âHow does he do that?â Omi wondered.
âDoesnât matter. Weâve got a rust bucket to break.â
* * *
A couple of hours later, Annihilator was lying in the rubble of a collapsed warehouse in the middle of the warehouse district. Pursued by Omi and Cron, heâd made the significant miscalculation of luring them back to his own secret lair. The pair had taken considerable pleasure collapsing the warehouse around him.
Now, he lay in the rubble, and activated the communicator in his head.
âCosmo Derringerâs office. How may I direct your call?â chirped the receptionist.
âDISCREET HOUSING INITIATIVE PLEASE,â Annihilator whirred.
âPutting you through now, sir.â
There was a moment of hold music before the phone clicked back in.
âThis is Cosmo. Whoâs calling?â
âANNIHILATOR.â
âOh, hello there,â Cosmo buzzed. âLong time no see, big guy. What can I do you for?â
âI REQUIRE A NEW LAIR. MY PREVIOUS ONE WAS DAMAGED.â
âCompletely destroyed, huh?â Cosmo said sympathetically. âAlright, big fella. Iâve got a free slot on Thursday if you can meet me at the Villainâs Bureau. Avoids you turning up at the tower.â
âAFFIRMATIVE. SEE YOU THEN.â
Annihilator hung up. He groaned amongst the rubble. He hated house hunting.
* * *
Cosmo hung up his phone and returned to his desk.
âNancy? Do I have any other meetings today?â
âNo, Mr Derringer,â the computer answered.
âAnd my first meeting tomorrow?â
âYou have a meeting with Mr Intellitron concerning his new lair. Volcanic island resort.â
âAh, yes. Teething problems I assume. Order a bottle of wine, would you? I need to thank him for that submarine. It will pay dividends when it finally sells.â
âConfirmed.â
âAfter that, can you give me some privacy? Iâll push the button if I need you.â
âConfirmed.â
A small blue light in the ceiling switched off.
Cosmo walked up to the window and stared down at the city below. Blank faced, his eyes locked onto a small collection of buildings. A set he knew had an abandoned airfield beneath them.
He smiled.
âItâs always fascinating to see what people do with what Iâve given them,â he said, looking out over the skyline. âHereâs to you, Hero City.â
And he raised a glass of brandy, staring out over his world.














