#stealth watcher

Epilogues

Melody waited in her apartment, brewing a cup of tea, when the doorbell rang. With a slight hobbling step, she hurried over to answer it. Behind the door was a generic looking man with dark-ish skin, greying mid-coloured hair, and facial features that were certainly there.

“I was expecting you,” Melody greeted cheerily. “Please, come in.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised, Miss Planker,” Henchman 14 returned, stepping in and closing the door.

“Oh, none of the Miss,” Melody dismissed. “You and I are part of a unique little club. Saviours of the city!” she said brightly.

“God… I can’t believe I actually saved the city,” 14 answered, more repulsed than joyous. “I’ve become a bloody hero!” he complained.

Melody looked at him with curious confusion.

“Sorry, Miss Planker, and yes I am going to keep calling you that,” 14 said. “I’m a henchman by trade, a villainous lackey. To think I was one of those spandex wearing, pompous caped crusaders, even for a minute…” He shivered. “Present company excepted, of course.”

Melody chuckled. “I suppose that makes sense. Still, I don’t see you remaining a lackey for long, not now. Your face will already be on every news channel, Henchman 14.”

“Ha! People will have already forgotten my name.”

“Really?”

“Yep,” he grinned. “On the way here, I passed three newspaper stands. Every single paper had front page photos of the heroes who saved the city, including me. But was I recognised? No! I even bought one of the papers with my face on the front page just to prove my point.”

“Huh. How strange,” Melody looked confused again.

“Perks of being a henchman. A face in the crowd, part of the organisation. Hell, I’ve met Justice Man hundreds of times, he still doesn’t recognise me.”

“Do other heroes?”

“Some of them,” 14 thought. “But it doesn’t matter. Because, fun as this chat is, we have business, Miss Planker.”

“Of course,” Melody nodded. “Do you have it?”

14 reached into a pocket and pulled out a glowing cube. He pressed a few buttons, then aimed it at the floor. A blue glow emanated, and a large case materialised before them.

“One Sword of Songs, back where it belongs,” 14 offered it, kneeling and opening the case. Inside was the massive bronze sword, which Melody looked at fondly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to keep it? The powers seemed to suit you?” she asked.

“With respect, Miss Planker, hell no,” 14 said with a smile. “I appreciate the offer, but I am not getting involved. I just want to do my job. Time to put this back in its place.”

14 gestured to the wall, where an empty framed case awaited.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he stepped back.

Melody raised an eyebrow at him. “So… You’re not going to help me put it in the frame?”

“Should I need to help the great Melody Planker?” he dodged.

Melody narrowed her eyes. “You expect me to do it, all by myself?”

“That seems to be the situation, yes. It’s more yours than it is mine.”

“You want me to pick up the sword, and thus become Chorus, just to put it in its case?”

“One last use of the sword, for old times’ sake.” He practically bowed as he offered it to her.

Melody continued to stare, but eventually hobbled over and reached for the sword. As skin met metal, she flashed with silver light, and suddenly a less hunched old woman was stood, the sword held proudly, Chorus’s black and white leotard sealed over her torso, and her silver mask covering her face.

“You are a strange one, Mr 14,” she said, then strode to the wall display. As she reached up to put the artefact back in, she paused. “Wait…” she turned to him.

“What’s the matter?”

“You just don’t want to be the last one to touch this sword, do you? That’s why you’re being so coy!” she accused.

14 grinned, a little abashed. “Alright. Busted,” he confessed.

“You’re that scared of getting superpowers?”

“Melody, doesn’t that sound just like an origin story to you?” 14 said. “Danger rises and the sword calls to its last bearer for aid. But it isn’t calling for Chorus, or anyone else on that roof. It’s calling to me, the last person who held it. I’m not taking the risk.”

“Well… You’re not wrong,” Melody conceded.

“Exactly.”

“But, hell, I’m not going to be around forever. Aren’t you scared it’s just going to go down the line?”

“Mildly, but what can you do?” he shrugged.

“And you didn’t think to get a bunch of people to hold it briefly, just in case?”

“It did occur to me, but that seemed profoundly irresponsible,” 14 admitted.

Melody gave him one last curious look, then turned and put the sword in its case. As it left her hands, the silver light drained away, her superhero outfit with it, returning her to her grey frumpy dress. She stumbled back, regaining her breath.

“Lord, do I miss those powers some days. But you’re right, 14. You have to know where to draw the line. Those days are behind us both.”

“Here’s hoping,” 14 crossed his fingers.

“Still, that doesn’t change what you did, saving this city. You saved us all. You might not want to be Chorus, and I do understand that, but you are still important, sir. Even if the city forgets you, I thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”

“I was just doing my job,” 14 saluted modestly.

“Aren’t we all?” Melody smiled. Her face scrunched slightly. “Here I am, honouring you, and I don’t even know your real name. I don’t think it was in the papers either. You’re just… 14.”

“The papers didn’t ask, not that I’d have told them,” 14 explained. “And my name is Edmond Fortnight, Miss Planker. The few who know that just call me Ed.”

“Well, Ed, thank you. Thank you for a whole lot. Now, would you like to stay for some tea?”

“Sorry, can’t stay,” 14 turned to leave. “Busy day at Intellitron Resorts, and it’s a bit of a ways back. Gotta fly.” He hefted the now empty travelling case for the sword.

“I hope to see you around, Henchman 14,” she followed him to the door.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Miss Planker, but I hope to never see you again,” he said, eyeing the sword on the wall warily.

Melody chuckled. “Fair enough. Now, did my doorman let you up, or did you enter by the roof? Supers tend to pick the latter option.”

“Front door, but your doorman missed me. I’m good at getting in unseen,” 14 tapped his nose meaningfully. “And I think I’ll weird him out further by brazenly carrying this case out past him. Leave him wondering how I got it in without him noticing.”

“That’ll keep him on his toes,” Melody appreciated. “Well, good day to you.”

“And you, Miss Planker.”

Melody closed the door, as 14 hurried off down the stairs. She turned to her apartment, walking over to her sword, back in its proper place.

Her brow furrowed.

“Fortnight?” she mumbled. She walked over to a different wall, peering at the photos.

She pulled one frame down, her eyes scanning the portrait.

“Fortnight…” she said to herself again. “Where do I know that name?”

In her hands was a full group photo of the League of Titans.

“I wonder…” she finished, her finger resting on one hero in particular.

* * *

“Snnnrrkt,” Jude sniffed. “Tessa?”

“Coming!” Tessa called from the other room.

Jude lay in bed, surrounded by tissues, her skin a few fractions yellower than it should be. She was huddled under her blankets, eyes and nose streaming, with a headache that would fell an elephant.

Gently, the door opened, and Tessa entered with a pot of tea and two cups.

“Got some lemon tea. Should help clear those sinuses,” she said.

“Tess, my hot water bottle’s gone cold…” Jude moaned.

“I’ve got you,” Tessa nodded, and took the rubber bottle from Jude’s arms.

She poked it, unscrewed the top, and produced a small capsule from a trouser pocket. She shook the capsule and dropped it into the bottle with a tiny plop. Within seconds, the bottle began to bubble and steam gently. She corked it again and returned it to Jude.

“Careful. It’s hot.”

“Thank you,” Jude said sleepily, hugging the warm bottle like a teddy bear.

Tessa eyed her patient with a clinical eye. “That bottle went cold awfully quick? Your allergies don’t drain heat from their surroundings, do they?”

“I don’t know,” Jude sniffed loudly. “I just know I feel like I’m freezing.”

“Sorry I sent you that peppermint.” Tessa sat on the bed, holding her girlfriend’s hand. “Felt like a good idea at the time.”

“No bother. It won us the day,” Jude said, curling tighter beneath two sweaters.

“That and 14. It’s amazing… Now, sit up and drink your tea.”

Jude did as she was told, emerging from the blankets in her outfit of every woollen item in the house. Tessa poured her a cup and handed it into mittened hands.

“Thanks,” Jude sighed. “I can’t really taste it, but I assume it’s good.”

Tessa took a sip. She frowned. “It’s a bit soapy actually. Still, it’s full of all sorts of nutrients.” She reluctantly took another sip, keeping an eye on Jude.

“So… You really saved the day because of me and the peppermint?” Tessa asked slyly. “How does it feel, saving the entire city and beyond?”

“It’s pretty cool,” Jude said happily. “How did it feel for you, blowing up Cosmo Tower?”

“Oh, I can’t take credit for that. It was mostly… Wait, why am I being modest about this? Yep, it was definitely all my idea. Me me me,” Tessa grinned with a villainous smile.

“And was it strictly necessary?”

“Well, Annihilator had already set the charges, and frankly the battle with the demons left the place pretty unstable. A controlled demolition, a public service, no charge. And… it was a whole lot of fun,” Tessa grinned like a Cheshire Cat. “Boom!”

“Plus, any evidence Cosmo had in that building is gone,” Jude added.

Tessa rocked her head in an uncertain way. “I doubt Cosmo had everything in one building. Back-ups, copies of contracts, perhaps an underground vault beneath the tower. Also, he likely knows most of it off by heart. But I think he’s smart enough to keep his mouth shut.”

“You don’t think he’ll rat out every super he knows for a deal?”

“Not if he doesn’t want Annihilator and a dozen other supervillains testing his immortality by force. I’ve heard that robot’s drill claws make quite a mess,” she said coldly.

Jude stared for a moment, then slumped back into her bed with a smile.

“You know, Dark Dragon was right about one thing.”

“And what is that?”

“My morals have shifted. When I first started as a hero, I would have decried the mere idea of Cosmo getting tortured. Now though…”

“That, and your girlfriend is a supervillain.”

“That too,” Jude agreed. “But if Henchman 14 can save the city, then the line between good and evil might be a bit too blurry for me.”

“Yep. Best to think in shades of grey. And I’ll have to ask 14 about all that next time he’s in my employ. But for now, you need to get some rest.”

“Sleepy time,” Jude agreed tiredly, slipping back into her covers.

“Sleep well,” Tessa said, kissing her on the forehead. “And save your strength to save this city another day.”

“Another… day… ZZZZZ,” Jude murmured, and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The night of Hero City was cold and dark, as many a back alley sat in silence, not counting the scuttling of curious rats. In a storage shed attached to a repair shop, in one said alley, a shadow moved carefully, guiding gleaming metal to its goal.

“Ow!” the young woman yelped, sucking on her finger where the needle pricked. “Who would have guessed you’d need to know how to stitch to be a sidekick?”

Night Guard, or Katie, was stitching up her cape where a bold racoon had got in and nibbled a corner. Beside her, there were a few cans of beans, a small camping stove, and a pile of blankets and clothes she called a bed.

“Stupid Headmaster Devon. Stupid Matron. Stupid…” she grumbled, patching the seam in the duvet cover she called her cape. “Next time, I need to practice spin kicks where I won’t hit one of the younger students… if there even is a next time,” she finished glumly.

Outside, something clattered.

Night Guard reacted, threw on her mask, and picked up the shuriken she’d bought from a martial arts store, aiming at the door. She waited.

Another clatter.

With agility and elegance, she rolled outside and into the alley. Her eyes were keen in the dark, watching for any movement. She stopped and stood. She stared.

Strung across the middle of the alley were various cans on a fishing wire. The wind blew and the cans rattled.

“That… wasn’t there earlier,” she assessed.

She quickly ran through possibilities. A trap? No. Too obvious. A lure to get her out of the shack? Why though, to steal her beans? No. A lure to get her into the alley? Maybe… but she’d been stood out in the open for a minute now and nothing had happened.

She walked over and plucked the string like a guitar. It rattled. Nothing else happened.

She sighed. Maybe it was just a prank. Using her shuriken, she cut the thread and collected the apparent trap, transporting it back to her shed. Could be useful, she told herself. She re-entered, closed the door, and piled the trap on a sideboard, before considering which can of beans to open-

“Well, aren’t you a little hoarder?” came a distorted dark voice.

Night Guard flung the shuriken at the noise. Then she blinked. The shuriken had stopped in mid-air… or more accurately, a strange patch of darkness had caught it. Caught it between two fingers.

“A little jumpy, but the survival instincts are on point,” the shadow said casually.

Night Guard, keeping the intruder in sight the whole time, reached over and turned on a lamp. As the electric light flickered and warmed up, the figure before her became clear.

“No. Freaking. Way!” she went wide eyed with excitement.

The figure in her hut was a hero, judging by the cape, black and grey outfit, and a mask that covered their entire face. A lack of face that Night Guard knew very well indeed.

“STEALTH WATCHER!” she exploded, nearly hyperventilating.

“Sorry for the lure outside. I needed something so I could slip in for a proper entrance.”

“Oh, I don’t mind, sir. I don’t mind at all,” she said joyfully. “Please, have a seat.” She offered him the only chair.

“No need,” he put up a hand. “I wanted to speak with you, Night Guard.”

Night Guard’s eyes went wide as dinner plates. “Yes?”

“It is of utmost importance, and my next question could change your life forever.”

“Yes?” she almost vibrated with excitement.

“Night Guard… Wait, do you really live like this?” He looked around at the abandoned shed.

If Night Guard could’ve suffered whiplash from the conversation, she would have.

“…That’s what you wanted to ask me?”

“What? Oh, sorry, no,” Stealth Watcher apologised. “That wasn’t the earth shattering question I meant. I only just realised… Are you sleeping rough?”

“No!” Night Guard said guardedly, kicking a sleeping bag under a workbench.

“Justice Girl told me where to find you, but even so… she wasn’t really sure,” he eyed some of the blankets. There were things skittering in them.

“Stealth Watcher, sir? What is it you wanted to ask me?” she tried to get back on track.

“Oh, right,” he nodded. “Here’s the situation, Night Guard. Recent events, new threats, and a long career in crime fighting, and I have finally realised something. I have limitations. I am, in fact, mortal.”

“No!” Night Guard genuinely gasped.

“Yes. I might not like to admit it, especially with the superpowered heroes being all high and mighty, but I do have my limits. And this is me, accepting them.”

“What do you mean, sir?”

“I need help. I can’t keep doing this hero gig alone, especially without any powers. It was a tough pill to swallow, but then I remembered you. There are a lot of sidekicks in this city, but you really impressed me, Night Guard, dealing with Battering Sam. So, here is my offer.”

He extended a hand to her.

“Will you be my… What is that smell?”

Night Guard ground her teeth. So close and yet so far… “I believe that’s the bundle of clothing behind you, sir.”

“Oh… Are you sure you’re not sleeping rough? Because it’s fine if you are… I mean, it isn’t fine, that’s a little worrying, but I mean…” Stealth Watcher stopped babbling. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, sir. I just need to get the money together to use the laundromat down the street. Nothing to worry about.”

Stealth Watcher looked at her, and even behind his mask, she could sense a raised eyebrow.

“Alright, Night Guard. Ground rules. Before we get onto the question, the one I suspect will shatter your world, I think I need to ask about all this first. What are you doing here? Living here? Justice Girl suspects you might be homeless.”

“I’m not homeless. That’s just a stupid rumour Wandering Foot started… sir.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I… I’m not homeless. I mean… I have a home, and I could live there if I wanted. But I don’t.”

“You ran away from home?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I ran away from boarding school. Well… You pay for boarding school. I guess you’d call it a reform school or something. A place with dorms. I got sent there by the orphanage and ran away.”

“You escaped?”

“They’ll hardly miss me,” Night Guard shrugged. “I go back for lessons and major exams, cause I’ve still got to get an education, right? But I break out to work on my true passion and to attend Sidekick Club meetings.”

She twirled to demonstrate her sidekick outfit.

“Break out… to live out of an old shed,” Watcher assessed, a mournful edge to his voice.

“We do what we can with what we have to do what we must,” she said quick enough to be a tongue twister. “And none of the teachers care about me leaving. I just know... I know I'm destined for something more.”

“And you’re sure this is what you want to do? Super work?”

“More than anything in the world,” she affirmed.

“Alright, if you’re sure,” Stealth Watcher accepted. “Then, Night Guard,” he continued with building grandness, “I have two things to say to you. Two important things.”

He reached up, and with a pull and the release of a few strings, his mask came off. Before Night Guard stood a young man with strawberry blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes.

“First, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Billy Powers, and I am Stealth Watcher.”

Night Guard stood, mouth agape, staring blankly. It took her a solid minute to get her brain back in order, and nod understandingly.

“This is where you tell me your name,” Billy prompted.

“Oh! Right!” she realised, and hurriedly pulled the duvet from her head.

Night Guard was actually a girl in her mid teens, with oil-black hair, freckles, pale skin, and a sharp bob and bangs haircut. From under her severe fringe, dark blue eyes peaked out.

“Um… Katies Shades,” she introduced.

Billy smiled. “Shades? Really?”

“Yes? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Just the sidekick has a more appropriate name than I do,” he laughed.

Katie buzzed at the S-word being mentioned. Watcher noticed.

“I guess that does lead us onto point two. The Question.”

“Yes?” Katie thrummed like she’d explode.

Billy extended a hand.

“Katie Shades?”

“Yes!”

“Do you want to be my sidekick?”

Katie ignored the handshake. She instead tackled him right into a hug.

“OH MY GOD! YEAAHHHH!!!” she screamed.

Needless to say, the answer was yes.

“First things first,” Stealth Watcher said, prying her off. “You’ve got training to do before I let you anywhere near field work. You understand?”

“Yes, sir!” she said, standing to attention.

“Secondly, don’t call me sir. Boss is acceptable, but I’d prefer Stealth Watcher.”

“Yes, Boss!” she said just as firmly.

“Second… or third now I guess, I’ll get you set up in the Watchtower. That’s my hideout.”

“Oh, I know,” she said, fangirl seeping through.

“Don’t get excited though, it isn’t actually a tower. I just thought Watch Attic In An Old Church didn’t scan too well, but it’s better than this old shed.”

“I don’t care. I just want to work with you,” she beamed.

“Good. Because, lastly, you are still going to school, young lady,” he said sternly.

Katie’s face fell.

“Since you’re my ward now, you will keep up your education for as long as we work together… at least until your old enough to leave. Until then, you will study and study hard… though we might talk about transferring you somewhere nicer. Your school sounds terrible.”

“You can afford that?”

“I can try,” he said, doing some mental accounting. “Are my terms acceptable?”

Katie stopped to give it proper consideration. The school thing was a fly in the ointment, but it was only a small fly. And it was good ointment.

“Deal!” she said excitedly.

“Very well, Night Guard. You are my sidekick. And I believe this will be the beginning of a beautiful partnership.”

And Katie could only agree.

* * *

“Wrench,” Intellitron beckoned.

“Wrench.” 14 passed him the tool.

There was a cranking noise as something was tightened.

“Screwdriver.”

“Screwdriver,” 14 obliged.

Creaking and squeaking, a screw turned.

“Battery.”

“Double AA or triple?”

“One of the power cells, behind you on the shelf.”

“Right.” 14 retrieved the glowing cylinder and handed it to his boss.

Intellitron slotted the last bit into place, a switch flipped with some whirring and a clanking, and suddenly the pile of metal and parts he’d been working on began to move.

“Welcome to the Plaza! Try out the new Restaurant of the Future, today! Just turn left around the next corner,” chirped the theme park animatronic, a large kangaroo, which promptly got off the repairs table and walked away.

Intellitron and 14 watched it leave, and only winced slightly as it ploughed through a closed door to get back outside. Intellitron took a cloth and began to wipe the grease from his hands.

“So you’re saying it just started squirting oil?”

“Yep,” 14 confirmed. “Henchman 6 saw it all. She said it was doing its job, a kid came up and kicked it in the privates, then black crude started pouring out the back.”

“Huh, that’s odd… Especially since they don’t use crude oil. They’re powered by synthetic lubricants of my own design,” Intellitron considered.

14 shrugged. “I don’t know. My only question is why it was coming out the rear end.”

“Hmmm, yes…” Intellitron tried to breeze past. “We can’t have that happening. We’re lucky it was just one of the generic animal mascots. If that had been one of the hero animatronics, we might have been sued for defamation of character.”

“Ha! Could you imagine?”

“Speaking of,” Intellitron changed the subject, “How did the visit to Miss Planker go?”

“Nothing to be worried about. The sword is back where it belongs. My hero days are over.”

“A shame,” Intellitron said teasingly, “I could always use your indestructability to test my security systems. The rocket launchers are out of alignment.”

14 shot him a look. “You know my contract expressly forbids that.”

“I know, I know,” Intellitron put up a hand. “Anyway, if I wanted to test them, I’d just ask a hero. Or I could just wait until Justice Man next breaks in, whenever that will be.”

“The good money’s on the next two weeks.”

“That soon?” Intellitron stopped to think. “I guess it has been a month since he was last here, and that was for one of the shows.” His robot eye flashed with realisation. “Do you think that’s what happened to the animatronic? That buffoon poured crude oil into it for some reason?”

“Wouldn’t put it past him,” 14 sighed, putting away the tools.

“To think, for years he bested me… I battled him, I even saved his child, and now I’m functionally his ally. And I wouldn’t trust the fool to change a plug.”

“Reluctant ally,” 14 corrected.

“Quite.”

“Still, it’s all relative,” 14 reflected. “At least when he breaks in nowadays, I tend not to get punched. And it’s usually for some good reason, like he needs our help and can’t just ask us.”

“He still manages to ask in the most annoying way possible,” Intellitron groaned.

“It’s like a special skill of his. I mean, if I have to see him wearing that damn trench coat, thinking he’s fooling anyone…” 14 growled, throttling the air in front of him.

“Urgh, that accursed disguise.” Intellitron slumped his shoulders. “But what can we expect, when his main level of disguise is so pitiful.”

“What do you mean?”

“The great and grand Justice Man and his so-called secret identity,” Intellitron said snootily.

14 stopped working and turned to his boss. “His secret identity?”

Intellitron stared at him, affecting stunned confusion.

“Oh, 14, you can’t tell me you can’t see it?”

“Who do you think Justice Man is?”

Intellitron dialled the stunned confusion up to bafflement. “It’s obvious, 14!”

14 quirked an eyebrow. “Is this the Justin Mann is clearly Justice Man thing again?”

“YES!” Intellitron burst. “I’ve met both of them, and they are clearly the same person. Same voice, same face, same build, just one wears a stupid cowboy hat and speaks in an even stupider fake Texan accent. It’s obvious!”

“I don’t buy it,” 14 dismissed, getting back to his work.

Intellitron turned up his confusion until it was full on disbelief.

“14, have I really overestimated your intelligence to such a degree?”

“Justice Man is not famed bachelor philanthropist Justin Mann,” 14 said flatly.

“14…”

“And I can prove it,” the henchman continued.

Intellitron raised an intrigued eyebrow. “You can prove it?”

“Yep. Bet you I can prove it with one simple fact.”

“That’s quite the bet.” Intellitron thought for a moment. “I’m game. What are the stakes?”

“Two weeks paid vacation,” 14 proffered. “If I lose, I owe you two weeks unpaid labour.”

“High stakes. You’re really that confident?” Intellitron challenged.

“Accept it or don’t,” 14 countered.

Intellitron stopped and thought. With nothing to lose, he nodded.

“Okay then, 14. Dazzle me.”

“Alright. You said it yourself. You’ve fought Justice Man for years, saved his kid, saved the world together, right?”

“Of course.”

“And of course you’ve also looked into Justin Mann, right?”

“Out of idle curiosity,” Intellitron admitted.

“His life, his business, his romantic ties?”

“I had a free afternoon once, so yes.”

“Alright then. How many kids does Justin Mann have?”

“Well none, obviously, he’s a bachelor…”

The penny dropped and Intellitron’s eyes went wide.

“Bugger!” he exploded a moment later.

14 shrugged and kept working.

“How did I never see that?” Intellitron exclaimed, “I mean, I saved Justice Man’s daughter!”

“Exactly,” 14 said, restraining his smugness.

“Back to the drawing board on that one, I guess,” Intellitron sighed. “Still, there has to be a connection between the two.”

“Most probably. But honestly, I’d prefer not to know. Too much trouble.”

Intellitron nodded. “Perhaps you’re right. He’d likely get quite upset.”

“Yep. Now, I was thinking I’ll take my two weeks off starting at the end of the month.”

Intellitron shot a dirty look, but smiled. “What are you going to do with two weeks off?”

“I dunno,” 14 shrugged again. “Maybe I’ll go out, meet some people, gets some drinks, see the city… without being compelled to rob it, I mean. And without getting punched by Justice Man.”

“A fair deal… whoever Justice Man really is.”

* * *

The kitchen was warm and awash with lovely smells, as pots were stirred and something golden-brown cooked in the oven. The walls were a summer yellow, their warmth matching the general tone of the rest of the house. The chef, a woman in her early fifties, was working hard, juggling the various tasks. She stopped briefly to push her chocolate-brown hair from her eyes and then went to check the soup.

“Beth, sweetie?” she called to the other room. “Do you mind giving me a hand in here?”

“Sure, Mum,” a voice answered, and her daughter appeared at the door, a younger version of her mother with slightly less angular features.

“Can you check the pie? I’m a little worried it might burn.”

“Sure thing.” Beth did as requested, found nothing wrong, and so placed the baked-good on the side to cool. “Is everything else ready?”

“Just about. We’re just waiting on your-”

The front door opened and a muscular figure in a trench coat walked in.

“Here he is,” the mother smiled.

“I see we’re all hanging out in the kitchen?” Justice Man beamed, unbuttoning his trench coat to reveal his barely concealed costume.

“It is the busiest place in the house tonight,” the mother smiled back. “Hello, dear. How was your day?”

Justice Man wobbled a hand indeterminately. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Everything’s been quite quiet since the whole Dark Dragon thing.”

“The criminals are likely scared of jumpy police,” Beth guessed, leaning on a counter.

“Likely,” Justice Man agreed. “Still, it won’t last. But enough of such dull things, how are you two today?”

Mother stirred the soup. “The office is considering giving me a promotion, at least if gossip is to be believed,” she said proudly.

“Katherine, are you serious?” Justice Man said excitedly.

“It’s not confirmed yet,” she tempered. “They had a bunch of insurance contracts tied up with Cosmo Industries, so everything is a bit of a mess, but apparently there’s an opening after one of the Insurance Investigators turned out to be Apocalypto.”

“That’s great news, Mum,” Beth patted her on the back.

“That’s amazing, honey,” Justice Man bent down to kiss her.

“Oh, not in front of Beth, dear.” She shooed him away.

“She’s a grown woman now. Romance is no mystery to her,” Justice Man teased, but pulled back anyway. “So, Beth, how’s the job hunt going?”

“Lousy,” Beth sighed. “Filled in a dozen forms last week, not one responded. Still, at least the babysitting pays. Did you manage to talk to Sanctimony about the Sidekick’s Club?”

“Sorry, he doesn’t seem particularly interested. He says he can’t budget for more money to pay you either. A crock of bull, if you ask me,” Justice Man shook his head.

“Yeah…” Beth accepted. “Still, if he asks, tell him I’ll be there usual time. Someone has to look after those kids… though most of them are hardly kids at this point.”

“There’ll be a new generation of sidekicks, I’m sure, especially after something big like Dark Dragon taking over. The Second Apocalypto Incident, people are calling it.”

“I had heard,” Katherine affirmed. “A little unimaginative if you ask me.”

An oven timer dinged, and Katherine hurriedly plated up the food. They moved to the other room to eat, with Justice Man heading upstairs briefly to change into jeans and a buttoned shirt.

“So,” Katherine broached as they watched TV, “You both ready for the weekend?”

“Yep. I know what I’m taking,” Beth said simply.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Justice Man hedged. “There might be something villainous happening that-”

“Don’t you dare try to squirm out of this,” Katherine warned him.

“I’m just not sure I’ll-”

“Avery, you are going to see your brother!” she commanded.

“Kathy…”

“No arguments. Justin invited us up for the weekend, and we’re going. Your parents are going to be there too, Avery. Norma and Odin. How often do you see them?”

“I know…” Justice Man relented. “It’s just, you know how me and Justin don’t get on. He’s always the favourite child.”

“You know that’s not true,” Kathy soothed.

“He’s a millionaire philanthropist, Kathy. To them, I’m just some weirdo in tights,” Justice Man shook his head. “And Justin’s always doing that stupid accent and wearing that stupid hat. And they think I’m weird,” he finished bitterly.

“Dad, you’ll always be cooler than him,” Beth assured, “but remember… we all get to use Uncle Justin’s rich guy stuff while we’re there. Remember his heated pool?”

Justice Man nodded thoughtfully. “I guess.”

“And it’ll be nice to see them all,” Kathy added. “Beth gets to see her grandparents?”

“I suppose,” Justice Man admitted. “It has been a while.”

“Right. It’ll be a fun weekend.”

“And, if Uncle Justin starts to annoy you, you can pick him up with your super strength and carry him away,” Beth added.

“Mum and Dad would not like that,” Justice Man smirked. “Still, it’s a good fall-back plan.”

“It’s what I would do… you know, if I had powers.”

“Be a little thankful you don’t,” Katherine commented. “Odin and Norma Mann were never too fond of the whole superpowers thing. Even if it is kind of their fault.”

“True,” Justice Man nodded. “Mad scientists the both of them.”

Dinner went on pleasantly, and as Avery and Kathy sat watching TV, Beth volunteered to head through and start on the washing up. She scrubbed the dishes and wiped down the glasses. She placed a glass on the edge of the counter, then felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She turned, pulled it out, and nudged the counter, the glass tumbling off the side.

It stopped inches from the ground, caught by a strange purple aura.

The aura held it, lifted it, and then placed it on the other side beside the sink. Beth finished texting, then reached out for it… only to find it had moved. She looked around to see who moved it.

Accepting it as just one of those strange things in life, she shrugged and got on with the cleaning, before heading back through to join her family.

* * *

The prison was dank and dark… or at least it would have been, had the heroes and police of the city had their way. In truth it was just a bit dingy and a little cold, being the holding cells for a police station, and thus subject to health and safety.

Cosmo Derringer sat in his cell, pointedly not sitting on the bed because he knew that Detective Washburn’s threat to put itching powder in his sheets was likely not a bluff. He instead sat on the bench, turning the events of the previous days over in his mind. For the first time in years he felt alone. No Dark Dragon watching his every move. No dreams. No plans.

He was just himself, and he didn’t quite know what to do with that.

He’d failed, technically, but he also hadn’t wanted to destroy the city. He’d just never expected events to go quite that way. Or Dark Dragon kicking him out. He wasn’t surprised, but it had left him in a bit of a pickle, and now Dark Dragon was gone too. He was alone.

And here he was in a cell, by himself, awaiting any number of interrogators, all looking to prise the secrets from his brain. He looked down and inspected the manacles around his wrists. A set of disconnected handcuffs, which true to Washburn’s word, kept him from teleporting or using any magic at all. She’d said they belonged to Jack Parker. A good man who’d died because of him.

Cosmo reflected, maybe, just maybe, he’d backed the wrong horse on this one.

It had been a good idea to start with. Superpowers were wrong and made the world a twisted mess, so getting rid of them made sense. But were the heroes to blame for that? Was the city? He’d done everything he could legally, supporting the right politicians, secretly funding the D.U.M.B., and when that didn’t work, summoning Dark Dragon. But that hadn’t worked either. It was all for nothing. Whatever higher powers might be responsible, they were not smiling on him. Maybe they didn’t approve.

His reverie was cut off by a sound from the corridor. Tapping heels on concrete. Besides himself, the prison was empty, not even containing other prisoners, everyone having been moved to make sure no one helped him. Even the guards kept their distance.

Cosmo peered through the bars, spying his visitor. It was a woman, tall, thin, with the demeanour of a blade. She wore a dark suit and heels, with blue eyeshadow.

“Miss Cobalt? What a strange pleasure to see you here,” Cosmo said, eyeing her warily.

“Cosmo,” she greeted. “I just thought I’d come see you before they lock you in a hole and lose the key.”

“And the guards actually let you in?”

“Technically. A small bribe and he thinks he’s letting your lawyer in here.”

“Quite frankly, Miss Cobalt, I’m more surprised you’re not in a cell too.” He examined her wrists to make sure she wasn’t cuffed. “You were arrested for stealing the Sword of Songs.”

“You mean my mission to contain a dangerous artefact,” Cobalt said with a political air. “My use of outsiders to avoid detection was seen as unorthodox, but necessary.”

“That’s a funny way to describe hiring Boar-Gular to steal it for you.”

“My methods are varied, but effective. Ultimately the D.U.M.B. is a government agency, and Uncle Sam doesn’t like the press to see their mistakes. So, until the politicians decide what to do with me, I’m innocent in the eyes of the law.”

“With at least five witnesses to you trying to shoot Judgement?”

“She was interfering in a governmentally sanctioned operation, Mr Derringer. I merely defended myself. Beyond that, it’s the word of a bunch of spandex freaks versus me and my men. And you, of course, but you’re a criminal and a liar, so who cares what you say?”

Cosmo rolled his eyes. “Why are you here, Cobalt, not that I don’t appreciate the visit?”

Cobalt smiled. “While I don’t think my superiors will arrest me, I have my doubts about my job security going forwards. But there is still work to be done. Supers left to stop. The mission unfinished.”

“I can’t exactly help you.” He held up his hands to show his manacles.

“Oh, you’d be surprised, Cosmo.” Her smile grew sharper. “I’ve been in contact with a few friends. Mutual acquaintances, you might say. There are certain resources from your operation that would be of use to me.”

“You might have noticed that they’ve stripped all my assets.”

Cobalt’s face faltered. “God, you’re dense,” she muttered as her smile twitched. “You might have lost everything, but these friends of ours said you could point me in the right direction.”

“And which friends might those be?”

“I’m sure they’d prefer to stay anonymous, but you know them. Grim demeanour, religious temperament, like to wear black… Enjoy fancy dress.” She covered her face, miming a mask.

Cosmo’s eyes went wider. “I’m sure I wouldn’t know what you’re talking about. I think your information might be… apocryphal,” he said, straining the word with weight.

Cobalt just glared. “Shall we cut to the chase? The guard shouldn’t be listening, but we both know who I mean. Certain former employees of your operation… or employees of your former business partner, specifically.”

“Yes, I get it. What resources did you want from me?”

“Information mostly. Contact numbers and the like,” she said with a meaningful stare. “Specifically, I want to know how to contact said old business partner.”

“He was destroyed, Cobalt. Gone.”

“We both know it isn’t that simple. He always returns.”

“You want to go looking for Dark-” Cosmo stopped himself, eyeing the corridor just to be sure no one was eavesdropping. A death glare from Cobalt only tied his tongue tighter.

“I have a proposition for him, Cosmo. To pick up where you left off. And if you point me in the right direction, I might just have a finder’s fee for you.”

“A finder’s fee?”

“A little present from our mutual friends,” she said. “So… How do I- ahem- check your references?”

Cosmos sat on his bench, turning the possibilities over in his head.

The mission unfinished…

“Suppose you were to go to the ruins of Cosmo Tower,” he said languidly, as if it meant nothing. “Across the plaza there’s an old coffee shop with a cellar entrance in the alley. It’s an old historical building, some of those old service tunnels. In fact, it’s around there that I first started. Who knows what you might find. Perhaps even a tome of ancient lore, one that speaks of certain dark rituals and how to perform them. Summoning rituals, specifically.”

Cosmo paused as a thought occurred.

“You’ve shut down the cameras down here so this won’t be recorded?” he guessed.

“They’re on a loop, but I’m sure they’ll just blame you for that,” Cobalt grinned cruelly.

“Why not? They can’t lock me up more than this.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll try though.”

“I’m sure too.”

Cobalt smiled. It sent a chill down Cosmo’s spine. “Well ,thank you, Cosmo. I suppose you’ve held up your end of the bargain. Here’s your present, from our mutual friends.”

Cobalt handed something through the bars. Cosmo took it, turned over the card, and frowned.

“Is this a joke?” he asked with arched eyebrows. “A ‘Get out of Jail Free’ Card?” It had the word Chance printed on the back.

“You know I don’t joke, Cosmo. Now, I have to be off. I have a friend to go and meet.”

“I feel like saying good luck would be inappropriate,” Cosmo said sardonically.

“Oh, I don’t need luck, Cosmo,” Cobalt said, then marched back out the way she came.

Once her heels vanished from earshot, the prison was silent again. Cosmo looked at the card in his hand, both infuriated and amused by it.

As he flipped it, the card crackled with red lightning.

Cosmo recoiled, then grinned to the brink of laughter. He stood, placed the card on the wall of his cell, and then took a step back.

“A Get Out Of Jail Free card,” he muttered.

The card stayed where it was put, sparked with crimson magic, and erupted into flames. The flames spread, formed a large oval on the wall, before the centre turned clear. Rather than show the brick behind it, it showed a street somewhere downtown.

“She really doesn’t joke,” Cosmo shook his head, and stepped through the portal, which promptly closed behind him.

* * *

The bar was relatively quiet, with it being the middle of the day, and also in a less than optimum location. It was a choice watering hole for those who didn’t want to be disturbed, but still wanted to maintain a social atmosphere. Not quite a dive, but certainly on the board over the pool.

“You come here often?” 14 asked, Lucy sitting across from him carrying two glasses.

“Not really,” she said, passing one to him. “I usually go to a cop bar, with my friends from the station. I just didn’t think they’d be very receptive of… someone like you.”

“I guess in most people’s eyes I’m still a crook,” 14 considered happily.

“You literally saved the city three days ago.”

“And look how many people even recognise me,” 14 bragged. “Anyway, detective, I suppose it’s time for my official debrief.”

“Just dotting ‘I’s and crossing ‘T’s. Besides, I’ve got a list of questions McElroy wants answered first.”

“Oh god. How many pages?”

“Just the one… though it was a negotiation.” Lucy produced the document. “Question One: What is your full name?”

“McElroy regularly deals with superheroes. How does that question go down with them?”

“It doesn’t. They refuse, he moves on.”

“Thought so… and you know my full name. You heard me say it on that rooftop… Were you close enough to hear that?” he tried to remember.

“I do remember, Edmond, but privacy is privacy. If the heroes get to refuse, you should get the choice too. In theory, this is just for the paperwork, though McElroy will be expecting a signature, if only at the bottom of the form.”

“Then Henchman 14 will do just fine. I didn’t get into this line of work to be remembered.”

This earned a curious look from Washburn. “This line of work? Is heroism your line now?”

“Hell no, I meant grunt work. The job description was just more extensive than I originally thought.”

“When requested, must wield superpowered sword. Degree in stooging essential,” Lucy joked. “No time wasters.”

“Yeah, that bit wasn’t in the interview,” 14 laughed.

“So, that’s your name. Next question-” Lucy began, but 14 held up a hand.

“Detective, how many of these questions could you answer on your own?”

Lucy counted. “More than half?” she guessed.

“And the other half?”

“Question 9: What did it feel like to wield the Sword of Songs?” She paused. “That can’t possibly be relevant to the paperwork.”

“In answer, it felt odd. Like an entire musical production in my soul.”

“A musical production?”

“I don’t know, just felt like a musical analogy was apt,” 14 said, sipping his beer. “But besides a humming in my heart, it didn’t really feel too different. It was like… It was like confidence, comfortable and in control. It just felt like… me, I guess.”

“Huh,” Lucy listened. “Sounds like the sensation of being drunk, honestly.”

“A little bit…” 14 nodded. “Speaking of, how’s your drink?”

Lucy glanced down at her glass. “It’s fine,” she said noncommittally.

“If you’re sure. You’ve not touched it… Wait, did you order a water?”

Lucy narrowed her gaze. “It’s the middle of the work day, 14.”

“Well, yeah, you just don’t seem…” 14 stopped himself. “Sorry, it isn’t my place to judge people’s drinking habits… beyond asking for their IDs when I tend bar.”

“And what? You’re just surprised I didn’t order a beer?” Lucy challenged.

“I had you down as a whiskey girl, honestly, but yes. We could have had this meeting at a coffee shop, or outside somewhere. But you invited us here, to a bar. It’s just…” 14 stopped himself again. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be analysing people. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

Lucy glowered, but she couldn’t maintain it. A tiny worm of guilt wriggled in her gut. She glanced down at her list of questions, and pushed them aside, returning her attention to him.

“This bar was… It was one of my favourite hangouts,” she threw him a bone. “I haven’t been here in a while, because I’ve been off alcohol.”

“Any specific reason, not that there needs to be one? It’s a healthy choice.”

“It’s a little silly,” Lucy gave a small sigh. “I told you about Jack Parker, right?”

“Of course. Good cop, great arresting officer, or so I hear, gentle with the handcuffs and never kicked the prisoners. A good man.”

“Well, Jack Parker didn’t drink. Just a lifestyle choice of his, he didn’t want to. But, back when I was a rookie, he brought me here, to this bar. That evening was incredibly awkward, as he didn’t drink and I didn’t want to if he wasn’t, so we just sat there uncomfortably for over an hour, totally sober. Finally, he broke the quiet, made a joke about sober silences, and we both laughed. From there, it kind of became an inside joke between us. That he’d offer to buy drinks, but we both knew it was nonsense.”

“I guess you had to be there,” 14 commented, trying not to be rude.

“It was from that day that Jack sort of became my mentor. He taught me how to be a detective… at least some of the finer details. He was a good man, and since his death, I’ve tried to honour him. As such, I’ve quit alcohol, like him. It’s a small stupid tribute, I know, but-”

“That’s quite sweet actually,” 14 said kindly.

Lucy glared, but asked for no pity. “He was my friend and my mentor, and then he died. It consumed me for months trying to work out his killer, and you even helped me try to solve that. And then, wonder of wonders, you essentially avenged Jack by killing Dark Dragon. So, for that, I have to thank you. So… thank you.”

“Oh,” 14 said in surprise.

“That’s why I wanted to debrief you myself. So I could talk to you. Thank you, for letting me finally put this all to rest.”

“It’s no trouble,” 14 murmured, not really sure what to say. A little smile curled his lip. “To Jack Parker.” He raised his glass. “Didn’t really know the man, but I hear he was a hell of a copper. Cheers.”

Lucy smiled back. “To Jack Parker.” She raised her glass in turn. “Rest in peace, buddy.”

They both half-downed their drinks, before Lucy turned back to the list of questions.

“Alright. I’ve only got a few more, then you can get back to Intellitron.”

“No rush,” 14 shrugged, taking another sip of his beer.

“Well, I do have a rush. Between Cosmo and everything else, I’ve got to get back. But… if I have any further questions, I won’t hesitate to call you, Henchman 14,” Lucy smiled.

“And I’ll be happy to answer,” 14 returned.

“Cheers,” she held up her water again. “Cheers to Hero City.”

“Cheers, to this chaotic place we call home,” he agreed.

They clinked their drinks, and with that, got back to the questions, smiling as they went.

* * *

And so, the camera pans out, floating up to show the skyline of Hero City. The lights, the clouds, the caped crusaders taking to the sky. But for today, sadly, the legends of Hero City have come to a close. Detectives and heroes, henchmen and sidekicks, villains and crooks. A city of stories, just waiting to be told.

And do you know what? Perhaps we’ll have just one more.

Final Retreat

Lucy lay on the bonnet of her car, parked down a backstreet, adjacent to nothing and an empty alley, and was now waiting for something to happen.

She had to admit, this was not how she’d expected the end of the world to go.

Only a day ago, Dark Dragon had managed to steal the Sword of Songs, a powerful artefact belonging to the hero Chorus. The sword supposedly turned a person’s inner strength into outer strength… broadly speaking anyway, and now Dark Dragon had it. The demonic knight with the terrifying willpower to pursue a ceaseless war against the forces of good for thousands of years.

Needless to say, it didn’t look great. But last anyone saw of the monster, he’d ejected his human host, Cosmo Derringer, turned into an actual dragon, and swooped off across the city. And now the monster had fortified himself inside Cosmo Tower.

Lucy glanced in the tower’s direction, but didn’t struggle to spot it. Cosmo Tower was already the second tallest building in the city, and now was surrounded by a terrible wall of infernal fire. The flames were as solid as stone, able to resist tank shells, and completely concealed the building in their chaos so there wasn’t even a chance of spying on him.

Worse still, reports had been coming in of supervillains moving towards the tower. Dark Dragon had put out the call, and most had obeyed, mainly out of fear. He was building an army of supervillains to crush the city. Meanwhile, Lucy was lying on her car and waiting.

But it could be worse. Her companion could be talking.

She glared across at the man waiting with her. His name, if it could be called a name, was Henchman 14, one of Intellitron’s lackeys. She’d dealt with him before, and likely arrested him too, but for some reason he’d been working with Judgement and Cosmo to retrieve the sword before all hell broke loose. And so he was here, waiting.

Cosmo was currently in a cell back at the station, likely striking some deal. She’d have to head back to deal with that eventually. But at least interrogating that creep was something to look forward to. Judgement, meanwhile, was at the Guild of Heroes, making plans. Which just left her and the henchman. She returned her unhappy focus to her guest.

14, for it was the only name anyone called him, was an unremarkable looking man. Remarkably unremarkable. He had vague features that shifted with his expression, his skin tone was middling, somewhere between well-tanned Caucasian and mild Indian, and even his hair, flecked with grey, varied between blonde and brunette depending on the lighting. His appearance was simply… generic. The only thing definite was his age, with him looking to be in his mid-forties.

About the same age as Lucy, actually. So she at least couldn’t make a crack about that.

However, scrutinising him was only passing the time. She was bored and anxious, and also angry. This was her city, and if she wasn’t the level headed woman she was, she would have gone and slapped the cuffs on Dark Dragon herself. But she couldn’t. That would get her killed. So she had to sit here, fed up, uneasy, and furious.

Finally, the boredom became too much.

“Urgh, what is taking them so long?” she complained.

“Heroes always take their time. It doesn’t matter what they’re doing. Voting or pontificating, it always takes bloody ages,” 14 answered, pacing back towards her.

“You’d certainly know, henchman,” she said venomously. “I just wish I didn’t have to wait so far away. Bloody secret Guild location.” Her eyes narrowed at her companion. “I think they’re only doing this because of you, you know. They don’t trust an evil henchman to know the location of their guild.”

“Perhaps, but I don’t see them telling you either, detective,” he countered calmly. “Then again, this is an emergency. I wouldn’t be too surprised if they let you in.”

“But they haven’t, because of you,” Lucy said in a barbed tone. 14 just shrugged.

Lucy scowled. She was bored and didn’t like him. She didn’t like how he was a toady to a former supervillain. She didn’t like how she was forced to do this rather than saving her city. And most of all, she didn’t like how he didn’t get angry. He just took it and smiled at her in that knowing way. Like he knew her. There was understanding in those eyes, and honestly, it was infuriating! He simply wouldn’t budge.

She’d just have to try harder.

“So, what’s it like being a bootlicker to Intellitron? Do you miss the days of rampaging and destroying the city?”

“Sometimes. There was a certain fun to it, but I don’t miss getting punched in the face,” he said honestly, rubbing his cheek at the memory.

“You miss hurting people?”

“I only ever shot at supers. I would have thought you’d appreciate that, Detective Washburn.”

“What would you know about me?” she snipped.

“It’s not difficult to work out,” he said. “Even if you didn’t have a bit of a reputation, then the way you reacted when the heroes ran off without you was eye opening. I think I heard you shout the word ‘Vigilante’ before they left?”

“Hey! I’m trying to save this city from a monster. They are refusing to let me help. And on top of it all, I can’t even know where their guild is, because of you. I’d bet you’d kill just to find that out, wouldn’t you?” she hissed.

“I already know where the guild is.”

“Sure you… Wait, what?” Lucy stopped.

“I already know where the guild is. All supervillains do. It’s in an old rotten theatre about a block from here. The Masked Lady Theatre.” He pointed vaguely.

Lucy blinked for a moment. “All supervillains know? Even Intellitron?”

“Yeah. I mean, it isn’t exactly hard to find. Once a month dozens of people in traditionally inconspicuous attire, which on mass makes it very conspicuous, all pile into a theatre somewhere in the city. You don’t exactly need a spy network to find it.”

“Then why the hell is it still standing?” Lucy queried dryly.

“You mean why has no supervillain ever attacked it?” 14 clarified. “Because they’re not suicidal, Detective Washburn. It’s just one of those unwritten rules, you know? You don’t attack the Hall of Heroes. It’s a sacred place of nobility. Also, it’s a really terrible idea.”

“How so?”

14 took a moment to order his words. “Alright, say you blew up the place. Boom. Best case, you just destroyed the building and the heroes move elsewhere. You don’t really gain anything, and you just lost the advantage knowing where their base is. Right?”

Lucy nodded, still interrogating him with her eyes.

“Right,” he continued. “But what if you blow up the place and there’s someone inside? You actually kill one of them? Then, all the heroes band together, march on your door, and if you’re lucky, they just send you to prison. But given they’ll be angry, that’s a fight where they send you lower than prison. So we just leave the damn place alone,” he finished.

“I… guess that makes sense,” Lucy considered.

“Also, it’s funny imagining them in there. Inside that rotten theatre, with the mould in the seats, rats in the walls, and the terrible plumbing. Serves them right, the pompous windbags.”

Lucy gave a small grunt of a laugh, but tried to play it off as a cough. She turned her scrutinising eye back on 14.

“Alright, I have to ask. What is your deal?” she asked levelly.

“My deal?”

“You’re some henchman for a former supervillain, and you still work for Madame Mechanism occasionally, or so I hear. Why though? Where the hell does a guy like you come from?”

“What? You want my origin story or something?”

“If you like. Hell, you’ve got me curious. Who are you, Henchman 14?”

14 shrugged. “What is there to say? Grew up in the city. Started out as a grunt, then a thug, then a henchman. Now I work for Intellitron. Better him than one of those caped crusaders… or some rich businessman,” he shuddered.

Lucy smiled smugly. “Nope. There’s more to you. Come on, tell me. I’m genuinely curious. Tell me the legend of Henchman 14. I mean, what even is your real name?”

“It’s Ed.”

“Oh,” Lucy stopped in surprise. “I was expecting more of a fight there.”

“No one ever asks… not that they care,” 14 said acceptingly. “You really want to know?”

“Strangely, I think I do.” She patted the bonnet beside her.

“Alright,” he accepted, carefully hopping onto the bonnet. “Well, as I said, I was born in Hero City, raised in one of the lower boroughs, on a block that likely isn’t there anymore. The sort that when it fell down, they just didn’t bother rebuilding it. My parents were well off, or at least well enough. We were comfortable. Mum was a housewife. Dad had a nice-ish car. I don’t remember what he did, because, when I was 10, me, Mum and Dad went out to the pictures, and on the way home, for some inexplicable reason, Dad decided to take a shortcut through Murder Alley. You ever hear about Murder Alley?”

“It’s somewhere downtown, right?”

“Yep. It likely isn’t there anymore either. Anyway, we’re on our way through, a mugger jumps us, shoots both of them dead, and I’m left an orphan. Now, I didn’t have a fancy butler, or any rich relatives, so I got put into foster care. They even gave me counselling, to help me with my grief. Nice people.”

“Well, that’s… good,” she contributed, unnerved by how relaxed he was.

“Better that than fighting crime in vengeance, right? Anyway, I lived in the same foster home for a while, and at age nineteen they kicked me out. No one wanted to adopt me. Can you imagine?” he said playfully.

“Was there a specific reason?”

“I think I was a bit grim back then. Not many parents want the teen standing alone at the back wearing black eyeliner. Anyway, at nineteen they kicked me out, gave me a cheap flat with rent to pay, and I had to go out and find a job. However, having grown up in such a hrm lively area, by the time I got out one of the local gangs had already recruited me. It wasn’t like the foster home was going to pay for college, so the gangs snatched me up.”

“They do like to get them while they’re young,” Lucy concurred.

“Exactly. Wound up working for Elinor Tramridge. Served under her two boys. They were good lads… Well, good in the sense you could play cards with them, though if Elinor ordered it, they’d rip your arms off with all the indifference of a factory worker.” A nostalgic grin overtook his face. “Geez, she could only have been in charge for a few years at that point, after her first husband died in mysterious circumstances.” He chuckled. “Well, I say mysterious. It was only a mystery how many knives she used.”

“And that was back when you were a grunt?”

“Yep,” 14 nodded. “I only moved up to thug when Battering Sam got involved.”

“The supervillain Battering Sam?”

“Yep, Elinor’s second husband. When they broke up, he got half their foot soldiers in the divorce, so I was forced into supervillainy. I didn’t stay with him long though. He provided free dental, but you kind of needed it, because he’d frequently knock your teeth out. I left after about two months. But, I had my foot in the door, and entered into the world of henchman work.”

“For Intellitron?”

“Not to start with, no. After Battering Sam, I worked for a few other villains. Worked under Bank Breaker for a few months, but the man was sooooooo dull. Worked with Winter Lord for six months, but I ended up spending as much on winter clothes as I was getting paid.”

“Ever work for Dark Dragon?” Lucy checked, an air of threat in the question.

“No, I’ve never been part of the Apocalypto Cult, not that they didn’t try to recruit me. But the flier was all ‘We will unleash hell upon the world’, so I wasn’t particularly interested.”

“Makes sense. But you were interested to start henching with Intellitron? Why?”

“Funnily enough, I actually did it to get out of the henchman game,” 14 smiled. “I was tired of getting punched by superheroes, and Intellitron was looking for lab assistants. I might not have had an education, but I could carry chemicals. All I needed to know was what I shouldn’t shake. It was nice. But then,” he sighed, “then the heroes started targeting Intellitron’s labs. He started arming his scientists and I was a decent shot with a laser rifle. Soon enough, I’m right back to carrying this, shooting that, etcetera. Then, I got called up to the big leagues. Intellitron’s twenty personal henchmen. Which is important! A big day, a bigger responsibility, and a true sign that the boss had seen my skills. Or so I thought. In truth my name was picked from a hat after the previous 14 died.”

“And you’ve been his henchman ever since?”

“Yes, ma’am. Back to getting punched by heroes, getting arrested, breaking out, and then doing it all over again. Until Intellitron retired, of course. That was a nice change, running the resort, nice weather and simple work, though the face punching didn’t exactly drop to zero. We still get visits from Justice Man...”

“That’s… quite the story,” Lucy processed. “I’ve got to ask then. Why did you stay with Intellitron for so long? I mean, if I was getting bones broken and arrested, I would have moved on a long time ago. But that’s me.”

14 stopped to think. Then he thought a little longer.

“Because…” he said finally, “Because I saw that something was wrong. I’d been on the wrong side of the tracks my whole life, all because I didn’t have the education, the background, the breeding. The world was unfair, but Intellitron wanted to change that. Sure, he wanted to put himself in charge and vaporise anyone who disagreed, but he wanted reform. He wanted to smash the system, to change how things were done, to provide free healthcare, to rule the world! Something had to be done and Intellitron was trying. The heroes try, but they can’t fix a system they’re part of. Intellitron wanted to knock it down and rebuild it from the ground up. And I wanted to be a part of that. To… save the world, in a way.”

“Huh… But you even stayed after he retired?”

“Well, I was older by then. I saw how flawed his plan was, and so did Intellitron. But the work paid, and who else was going to hire me? Plus, I respected the guy. He’d gone legit, not easy, and found a way to help people without taking over the world first. He knew he could just make people happy. That, and he brought us all over with full medical. I couldn’t afford to say no. So yeah, that’s my story, Detective Washburn,” he finished with a smile.

Lucy looked at him, her gaze scrutinising again.

“You’re an odd one, Henchman 14.”

“I don’t think even Intellitron knows half of what I just told you.”

“I’m honoured,” she said sarcastically.

He looked at her in that knowing way again and laughed. “You should be, detective. But enough about me. What about you? What’s your story?”

“Nothing to tell. Parents loved heroes, so by the inverse law of generations, I hated them. But I wanted to fight crime, so I became a cop. Now I have a legitimate reason to hate those caped weirdos. Done,” she stated. “See, that’s how to tell a life story in under fifty words.”

14 chuckled. “I should look into that.”

“And I should hope those heroes don’t take much longer. I’ve got to head back soon and interrogate Cosmo Derringer. We’ve even got magic handcuffs so he can’t escape.”

“I hope you break him,” 14 said with a dark glee, before recollection crossed his face. “Speaking of breaking cases, did you ever find out who killed Jack? I heard it was…”

“Dark Dragon, yes. Thanks for looking into that for me, even if you didn’t find anything.”

“No problem. Did you ever work out those weird numbers whoever kept sending you?”

“Conspiracy Jeff.”

“Ah,” 14 realised. “His radio station. Should have recognised it.”

“Yeah, it took me a while too. I should thank him though, when I get the chance. He gave me everything I’d need to take Cosmo down.”

“A good man, that one… beneath all the crazy.”

Lucy tutted. “Who would notice crazy in this city, with the caped lunatics flying around?”

* * *

The inside of the Hall of Heroes was, understandably, in turmoil.

Heroes shouting in their seats, people panicking and scared, and Sanctimony on stage trying to reign it all in. He was currently failing.

“We don’t have time for this,” he grumbled, and rather than the usual rigmarole of requesting silence, he just fired a divine energy bolt into the ceiling.

Everyone fell quiet.

“Alright everyone, this is a desperate situation!” he began, ignoring the falling ceiling dust. “Dark Dragon has the Sword of Songs, and according to Justice Man and Stealth Watcher, that means he’s practically invincible now. So, do we have any plans?”

There was a silent murmur.

“Die with dignity?” someone yelled.

Sanctimony grit his teeth. “…We’ll keep that in the back pocket.”

“Step one, we need to get the sword back,” Stealth Watcher strategized, stepping out of the shadows. “Unfortunately, we can’t get close enough to the tower to do that.”

“We need to break through Dark Dragon’s defences first,” Judgement input from the crowd. “That fire around the tower seems impenetrable, but if we could hit it hard enough…”

“The main issue is getting to the building,” Omi countered, a few rows ahead of Judgement. “Every cultist in the city is surrounding that tower, keeping people away.”

“Nah, the cultists are nothing,” Cron dismissed, putting his feet up beside Omi. “I’m more worried about the supervillains he’s got inside.”

“And if we get through all that, we’ll need to fight Dark Dragon,” Justice Man pointed out from the front row.

The entire hall fell silent again.

“Look, those aren’t plans, those are problems,” Sanctimony said testily. “The villains won’t be a problem anyhow. We’ve been informed they’re just being used to run the machinery.”

“And how do we know this?” someone in the crowd asked.

“Judgement has a source inside the tower, whose identity she refuses to disclose.”

Judgement stood from her seat. “I recently got a text. Dark Dragon has already summoned a few demons to his cause… so add those to the list.”

“May I make a suggestion?” a voice called from near the front. While the tone was sly and intelligent, the speaker wasn’t visible. It was coming from a phone positioned on Sanctimony’s podium.

“Ah, Mr Intellitron, finally with us. Go ahead?” Sanctimony prompted.

“Yes. Dark Dragon is a monster, but he’s a monster with a code. I reckon if you can get a hero up there to fight him one on one, he’ll face them one on one. That should give the others the chance to take down his machines and ruin his plans."

“But who would be insane enough to take on a powered-up Dark Dragon all by themselves?”

“It would have to be someone strong enough to take that sword from him?” Judgement proffered.

“Someone whose inner strength can make the most of it,” Omi agreed.

“The most heroic of all of us,” Stealth Watcher considered.

“Well, I can think of one person,” Intellitron said.

Every eye in the hall turned to Justice Man, sat in the front row, who was at that moment cleaning his ears. There was a stark silence, as the hero looked up and realised he had been chosen. He stood to face the crowds and-

“I’m guessing everyone’s looking at Justice Man reverentially?” Intellitron interrupted.

“Yes, they are,” said Sanctimony.

“It’s absurd I can’t be there. I’m not even a villain anymore.”

“You are kind of spoiling the moment, Intellitron.”

“Sorry. Very well. I’ll be quiet,” Intellitron granted.

Justice Man floated up to the stage and proudly put his hands to his hips. A smile flashed and he laughed triumphantly, exactly like he knew a true hero should.

“If you all insist, then I will bear the Sword of Songs and cut Dark Dragon down,” he said in his deepest, brashest tones. “I have always followed the League of Titans, so now I must defeat their greatest foe. Even if it’s hard, or dangerous, or suicidal, it is what I must do. Because I am, if nothing else, a hero,” he finished with a cheesy grin.

Everyone burst into raucous applause, apart from Omi and Cron.

“Does he actually know what he’s doing?” Omi whispered.

“I’m not sure,” Cron answered. “He is Justice Man though, so that’s got to count for something.”

From the back, Stealth Watcher looked worried. “That isn’t really a plan, big man,” he muttered to himself. “Still, you are the hero of heroes… I guess.”

“What a speech!” Judgement whispered. “Simply… heroic.”

“Now,” Justice Man continued, “to succeed we must fight together. Because a team that fights together, wins together. And there’s no I in Superheroes!”

“Right you are, Justice Man,” Sanctimony agreed proudly. “We’ll need a specialised team to fight alongside you. Any volunteers to charge straight into Dark Dragon’s maw?”

Justice Man blinked. “…Straight into what?”

The entire hall, who had been celebrating, immediately stopped. All arms fell to their sides. Then one shot up from the middle of the room.

“I’ll go,” Judgement announced. “I’m partially responsible for this mess, helping Cosmo.”

“We’re coming too,” Omi and Cron said in unison. “Because why not,” Cron added.

“And you’re not leaving me out of this,” Stealth Watcher called over the crowd.

“I’ll meet you all at the tower,” Intellitron said irritably, hanging up.

With the quota seemingly filled, the room fell back into celebration again, egging the chosen heroes on, a few giving cries of good luck.

Sanctimony stepped back to the mic with a sharp smile. “I don’t know what you’re all cheering about. While they deal with Dark Dragon, you lot will be dealing with everything else, cultists and demons alike. That is, if you want to keep your membership here.”

Everyone fell silent. It was a grim silence. They were going to war today.

* * *

The inside of Cosmo Tower looked a little different than it used to. Tessa had only been there once, when she’d bought her first lair, but there had definitely been some architectural work done now Dark Dragon was in charge.

For example, the entire inside of the tower had been completely gutted, floors and rooms ripped away, only leaving the bare bones skeleton of a building to make room for all of Dark Dragon’s terrifying machines.

Also, the décor was different. Much more red and ominous.

Tessa, or Madame Mechanism as was her villainous identity, had been tasked with keeping the power coils level. She mostly understood the technology at play, but there was a certain level of mysticism keeping her on her toes, turning dials and stopping everything exploding.

And then there were the demons.

By the time she’d answered Dark Dragon’s call, by which she meant the Apocalypto Cultists turning up at her door with swords, there were already three demons summoned. Monstrous, semi-human or completely inhuman things, all with grey skin like they were made from waxy stone. Now, almost a whole day had passed, and there were more of the horrid things. Every so often the machinery would flare, there would be a sound of triumph from above, and a new fiend would join the crew.

She looked around to try and count them, gauging her options, awaiting her-

“Get back to work!” A whip cracked against her armour, almost knocking her to the ground.

Madame Mechanism glared over her shoulder. The whip cracker was another demon. Twenty foot tall, mostly humanoid, as in two arms, two legs and a muscular torso, though it also had the head of a hawk. It was armed with twin axes as well as a whip, the axes currently in its belt. The other demons had made quite the fuss when he appeared, chanting his name; Vanserox the Slave Driver, some ancient general to keep everyone in line.

He certainly lived up to his name.

Mechanism stole a last glance before she got back to work. There were other supervillains around, but each was being minded by cultists or demons. The robot Annihilator was running on a massive wheel, powering the machines. Winter Lord was cooling systems, while The Torch was warming others. She’d seen Bank Breaker on the way up, who was helping with the filing. And then there was Trickster, who was working a pump with his feet, giggling to himself, his arms still bound by a straitjacket following an incident many years ago.

The whip cracked again by her ear, and Mechanism got back to her station, turning dials and switches. And then, checking in a reflection if Vanserox was watching, she slipped a hand into a pocket and texted her girlfriend.

More demons coming. Feels like DD is looking for one in particular. Love you. XX.

* * *

The heroes all gathered, ready for battle. The vast majority were lined up on the ground, a few blocks away from the tower, readying their weapons. Big Hitter readied his bat, The D-Fender prepared his future weapons, Watch Man polished his eyeball, The Wandering Fist straightened his gi, Melancholy got some mood music going, Big William cracked his massive knuckles, Undead Woman swung her shovel, The Cartwheeler bounced on her heels, Elder Wizard swung a magical staff, The Unknowable Helmet shined up his sallet, and Gun Shooter span the chambers of his revolvers, with a dozen other heroes besides.

Sanctimony stood at their head, his pen in hand, his clipboard counting off the heroes as present, waiting for the word.

High above, Justice Man, Judgement, Stealth Watcher, Omi and Cron, were all gathered on a rooftop. They eyed the dark, swirling aura of Cosmo Tower, now Dark Dragon’s fortress. As they did, a hovering, egg-shaped chair flew up, the blue skinned Intellitron piloting it.

“So, do we have a plan?” he asked as he dismounted.

“Tell him, big man,” Stealth Watcher patted Justice Man’s side.

“Yes. The plan,” Justice Man said with rehearsed pride. “We will break through the barrier, charge into the tower, and defeat Dark Dragon once and for all. Because that, Mr Intellitron, is what heroes do.”

“Understood, but how are we doing that?” Intellitron pressed.

“Well…” Justice Man’s mouth flapped. “Heroically?”

“Look, Intellitron, we’re a group of incredibly powerful superheroes,” Cron bragged. “We’ll manage it somehow, right?”

Omi sighed beside him, but offered no argument.

“So… the plan is to wing it?” Intellitron construed. “Against Dark Dragon?”

“He’s powerful, but he can’t be unbeatable,” Stealth Watcher readied his utility belt.

“You’ve clearly never been in a conference room with him. But, just to be clear though, the plan is… to improvise?”

“Do you have a better one?” Judgement asked him.

Intellitron thought for a moment. “…No. No I don’t.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Cron exclaimed, punching the air.

“Hold on,” Intellitron said hurriedly, before anything could kick off. “We’re still waiting on one of my henchmen. He’ll be here soon.”

“We’re waiting for a henchman?” Omi almost laughed

“Yes, we are. He’s flying in with-”

Intellitron was cut off by the rut of helicopter blades, the vehicle alighting across from them. Before it had even landed, the doors opened and Detective Washburn jumped out.

“Everyone?” she greeted in a harrowed tone. “I’ve got good news and bad news.”

Behind her, Henchman 14 landed and got out, but no one paid him any mind.

“What’s the word, Detective Washburn?” Judgement said familiarly.

“Alright, do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

“Good news,” Cron picked.

“We finally know what Dark Dragon is after.”

“What? How?” Stealth Watcher asked excitedly.

“Cosmo squealed like a pig,” Washburn explained. “He already told us everything he knows about Dark Dragon’s operation, and McElroy’s interrogating him for more. Most of it isn’t too useful right now, but we do, finally, after all these years, know Dark Dragon’s motives.”

“That’s fantastic!” Judgement exclaimed. “What does he want?”

“He wants to destroy something known as The Choir.”

Stealth Watcher and Justice Man shared a frightened look.

“The source of Chorus’s powers?” Watcher recalled.

“The very same,” Lucy confirmed. “Seems DD has some ancient grudge against them. Don’t know if I believe the story Cosmo told us, but that’s what Dark Dragon is after. The complete and utter destruction of this… musical force. And Cosmo believes this Choir may have ties to the origins of all superpowers, and destroying them will stop all superpowers forever.”

“Are we still in the good news?” Cron asked. “Any word of weaknesses?”

“Nope, but there is one last bit of good news. Cosmo told us Dark Dragon’s master plan. He wants to open a portal. A portal straight to The Choir.”

“Oh no,” Intellitron sighed.

“And there’s the bad news,” Lucy nodded. “We don’t know what’ll happen when that portal opens, but Cosmo suspects it’ll be bad.”

“Yes. It will,” the former supervillain confirmed.

“Please explain, Mr Intellitron, for the less scientific children.” Lucy gestured to the group.

Intellitron nodded. “Of course. First, do you all understand the basic principle of vacuums and their effects on atmosphere rich environments?”

There was a general round of nods, though Justice Man’s was a little slower.

“Nature abhors a vacuum,” Intellitron continued. “Differentials of pressure, something will always rush in to fill the empty space. And it can be pretty destructive. We’ve all seen decompressing airplanes. However, that phenomenon, an atmospheric vacuum, takes place in approximately three dimensions, give or take a couple. Now imagine the same event in five or more dimensions, ripped asunder by that portal, and that’s what we’re dealing with. He’s opening a door to another reality without safeguards.”

“How can you be sure he isn’t using safeguards?” Omi queried.

“Because he’s Dark bloody Dragon, and he’s apparently fuelled by a murderous grudge.”

“Cut to the chase, Intellitron. What damage are we talking about?” Stealth Watcher asked. “Will this be apocalyptic, or will it barely destroy Cosmo Tower?”

“Oh no, Cosmo Tower will be left standing.”

The group gave a relieved sigh.

“It’ll be in the eye of the storm. The rest of the city on the other hand…”

Washburn scowled. “I am out of patience today, Intellitron.”

“We’re talking winds that will level any building over three stories, temperature and gravity fluctuations changing the weight and density of everything in a twenty mile radius, and that’s not even considering how the laws of two different realities interacting will affect space and time on this side. In short, that portal opens, the city is doomed,” he said calmly.

“Oh…” Justice Man squeaked.

“But sure. I guess we can still just wing it,” Intellitron shrugged.

“Always good to know the stakes,” Stealth Watcher said tensely. “And how long before it activates?”

“Don’t worry, it’ll take days to charge… unless he can speed it up with demon magic,” Intellitron guessed. “The problem is he’ll be fortifying himself with new soldiers by the hour. If we don’t stop him soon, we’ll never be able to break through, and then time won’t matter.”

“My… um… contact inside says DD’s looking for one demon in particular,” Judgement informed. “For the moment, we have an opportunity. So, Justice Man? You’re leading the charge. Any ideas?”

“Um…” Justice Man went a little pale with all eyes on him. Then his hands went to his hips, back into his classic pose. “We fight bravely and save the day!”

Omi put up a hand. “Alright, but how?”

“Um…” Justice Man floundered again. “We… break the machine?”

“Are you serious?” Washburn eyed him sharply.

“Actually,” Intellitron interrupted, “That might just work. As long as it isn’t powered up, we should be able to just smash it. I’d imagine it’ll be a radio mast atop the tower. Then, once we destroy it, we only need to deal with Dark Dragon himself.”

Lucy looked aghast. “So that’s the plan? Attack, break stuff, win? That’s the entire plan?”

The heroes all looked at each other. With an uncertain resolution, they all nodded.

“Yep.”

“Unfortunately, it would seem that is the plan, detective,” Intellitron confirmed mournfully.

“I told you,” 14 added, sidling up to Washburn, “They take forever to do absolutely nothing.”

Lucy went to comment, but just sighed. “Fine then. Let’s do it. Let’s save the world.”

“Give the signal, Judgement,” Watcher instructed.

Judgement took a deep breath, flew to the edge of the roof, and yelled at the top of her lungs.

“CHARGE!”

* * *

Within the tower, on the very top floor, two cultists were working. A portal had been wired into the machinery, the arch sparking with red lightning. One of the cultists scoured through an ancient tome, while the other was controlling the power levels.

The cultist with the book ran his finger down a page and finally stopped.

“Alright, I have one. Are you ready?”

“Only if you’re sure this time,” the other answered.

“Okay. Man the controls, keep it all level.” He stepped up to the portal. “I call to the demon realm!” he said grandly. “I summon you, Careros, Queen of Night!”

The portal sparked violently and the air in the arch rent apart. A creature emerged that was twelve foot tall and covered in grey armour. It was so covered that nothing could be seen beneath it, the form half-resembling an armoured hill.

“Careros? Are you the one we seek?”

“I dunno,” the creature said, its voice reverberating from somewhere in the plating.

“Are you the master we seek?”

“I can help you patch some steel if you like?” it said in a harsh, working-class accent.

“I… Pardon?”

“I’m Careros… Wait, what did you call me?” it asked.

“The Queen of Night?”

“No, mate,” the demon shook its head, only discernible by a shifting helmet. “That’s a mistranslation.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s Lady of the Night,” the cultist working the controls muttered.

“No, mate. It’s Careros Queen of Knights. With a K. I’m an armourer.”

“What?!” The first cultist flew into a fury. “But your name is inscribed in an ancient tongue! I had to translate it! How can there be wordplay?!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, mate.” Part of the armour pile shrugged.

“But you-”

“Your methods are a disappointment,” a chilling voice echoed behind them. A voice that sounded like a mountain dropping through an industrial grinder.

Neither cultist had to look. They knew. Dark Dragon had been watching, waiting for… whatever it was he was waiting for. Even the dark lord himself seemed uncertain, but they kept searching. Careros meanwhile recognised the demon knight, made some form of salute, though it was difficult to tell how, and hurried off to receive orders elsewhere.

“Yet another demon and not the one I seek,” Dark Dragon snarled, striding forwards, The Sword of Songs scraping the ground from his hip.

“I’m sorry, my lord, but the text is difficult to decipher. If only you could tell us what you seek?” the first cultist begged.

“It… eludes me,” Dark Dragon hesitated. “However, even if you cannot find it, then warrior demons will be of service. This and the last were a pathetic waste.”

“Yes, Parellon the Killer was a disappointment. How was I to know he was just the funniest jester in the kingdom?”

“And Carver Temooriq?”

“I didn’t even know they had ice sculptors back then.”

“Cease your prattle,” Dark Dragon commanded. “Open it again and bring me a true demon. A warrior of wit and cunning. One to complete my work.”

“Yes, my lord,” the cultist nodded.

“Oh, this ones sounds sinister,” the second cultist sneered, having snuck over to the book during the reprimanding. “Allow me, oh great dark lord.”

Without asking, he ran from the book, to the controls, and then to the portal.

“I summon you! Artefax the Scrivener!”

The portal crackled, the air rent, and something emerged. By demon standards it was tiny. Barely as tall as a man, hunched over, and draped in rags. The top of its head barely reached eye level. The fiend looked like an old man, though it had four brittle limbs, a weak neck, and a head that looked like a dried prune. It lacked a mouth, but its eyes glowed a deep yellow.

“You idiot!” the first cultist admonished the second. “That was the last use of the portal for an hour! We’ll have to wait for it to cool down now!”

“My bad. This isn’t what I expected,” the second admitted. “It certainly sounded ominous, Artefax the Scrivener.”

“Do you even know what a scrivener is?”

“No. But I certainly don’t want to be scriven, do you?”

The lead cultist put his head in his hands, screaming into his palms. He came up for air and looked at the demon.

“You? What do you do?” he addressed Artefax.

“I am the scrivener, the record keeper, for the courts…” it said in a feeble, echoing voice.

“So, no special powers? Weapons? Anything?”

“No, sir.”

“Urgh… Then you can join the others below. Maybe Bank Breaker needs something signed-”

“Wait,” Dark Dragon beckoned.

Both cultists leapt out of the way as their lord approached.

“You. You served in the royal courts?” Dark Dragon growled. “Which king did you serve?”

Artefax bowed. “I served the king whose name you so condemn, my lord. I now follow you.”

“So you served before Chorus felled our kingdom?”

The demon nodded. “Such a wretch will forever be cursed by me,” it sneered.

Dark Dragon narrowed his eyes. “And you recall Chorus’s masters?”

“I do, my lord.”

Dark Dragon’s eyes went wide, almost excited. “In this age, this tongue, those masters are called The Choir. However, I am ancient now. So ancient that my memories are dust. I recall so little of those early days, and even less of our language. I cannot recall The Choir’s name… So much is lost. But you… Do you recall their name?”

“Yes, my lord. It burns in my heart with the same hatred as you.”

“Could you inscribe it, though do not speak it?”

“Gladly, if it means their destruction.”

“Excellent,” Dark Dragon audibly grinned, cruelty curling in his voice. “Do not speak it, for I would kill you to even hear it. But, with their true name, we can inscribe it onto the tower. Inscribed in the tongue that birthed my power, the tongue of The Choir’s song, I can cleave open reality itself. I can finally murder my accursed enemy, and rend them with my own two hands. I will reach this wretched Choir, and I will see them burn to ashes!” he cried.

Dark Dragon curled his clawed fingers in triumph, the air crackling and darkening around him. Then suddenly, he turned his haunting gaze on the second cultist.

“You have done well. Now, ready the others. The door to The Choir opens soon.”

“Yes, my lord,” the cultist bowed proudly.

“Artefax, follow me. We shall complete the work.”

“Yes, great lord,” the demon hobbled along behind.

As they were left alone, the first cultist turned to the second.

“You jammy git,” he scowled.

* * *

Sanctimony waited nervously, almost to the point his wings were moulting. Before the heroes stood the gathered forces of the Apocalypto Cult, a few hundred yards away behind their border surrounding Cosmo Tower. The cultists had moved cars and wreckage to create barricades, and one had managed to find a heavy machinegun which was now mounted on a make-shift parapet. It didn’t look good.

Still, Sanctimony managed to veil his nerves. He stood tall before his men, proud and apparently brave, the bold leader of The Guild of Heroes.

Everyone behind him was less composed. There were chattering teeth, people were shaking, and one young hero was conspicuously trying to move to the edge of the group. Heroes they may be, but a battle on this scale was incredibly rare. Most were only used to purse snatchers, bank robbers, and the occasional supervillain. Not an army of evil maniacs in masks.

But Sanctimony held ready, watching them proudly, and stopping them from running away.

“CHARGE!” came a voice from above.

“Oh hell,” the angel swore under his breath.

Sanctimony swallowed the lump in his throat and raised a hand. With a flash, his pen grew to the size of a sword, holding it by the clip. He held the weapon aloft.

“HEROES! CHARGE!”

The heroes did so.

Gun Shooter and D-Fender fired a barrage of bullets, the cultists darting for cover. Elder Wizard and Wandering Fist leapt onto cars, launching spells from staff and fists. Melancholy and Undead Woman ran up behind the sorcerers, summoning a tide of tragedy and undead ghouls. Big William and Big Hitter teamed up, launching bits of wreckage and batting them into the battlements like a cannon. And Unknowable Helmet ran with Cartwheeler, one flipping off of the front lines, as the other headbutted their way through.

On the battlements, the machinegun was loaded and aimed.

“WATCH MAN!” Sanctimony called.

The hero with a giant eyeball for a head leapt onto a vehicle, focused his eye, and a golden beam of searing energy blasted from his cornea. It turned the machinegun into molten slag, and left even less of the cultist who’d been manning it. All that was left was a smoking hole in the battlements.

“Go! Defeat the cultists! Get to the tower!” Sanctimony ordered, a commander to his men.

And the heroes charged on.

* * *

Back above, Justice Man and his team lined up, as they heard chaos breaking out below. They watched the heroes charge, before a barricade was obliterated by an eye beam.

“Forwards!” Justice Man commanded.

Justice Man, Judgement and Intellitron flew ahead, while Stealth Watcher swung from the buildings on grapple lines. Omi and Cron were carried by Justice Man, like two babes under his arms, leaving Lucy and 14 on the rooftop with their helicopter.

Passing the battle below, they closed in on the swirling monolith that was Cosmo Tower.

“Here we are,” Intellitron noted, floating in his hover throne. “Now we just need to break through the barrier. Anyone powerful enough to do that?”

“We can only hope,” Judgement said honestly.

“Or, you know, we could try and calculate it scientifically?” Intellitron proffered.

Judgement charged her fists, each one glowing golden like the sun. At the same time, Stealth Watcher readied a handful of explosive boomerangs, Omi, in Justice Man’s arms, produced a bunch of throwing stars, while Justice Man himself focused his telekinetic abilities.

“Or we could just wing it…” Intellitron gave up, and converted his robot arm to a cannon.

“FIRE!”

They let loose against the swirling barrier. Energy blasted, boomerangs exploded, throwing stars shattered, and Justice Man’s telekinesis surged against the wall, trapping the energy and shrapnel like a cup over a bomb. Intellitron aimed for the storm’s centre, charged his cannon and fired. Beneath the barrage, the barrier began to bend, splintered cracks forming. But it would not break.

“We… need… more!” Judgement called over the roar of their fire.

“Sanctimony?” Stealth Watcher patched into some coms.

“Help is coming!” cried Santimony’s angelic voice. “SUNSHINE CELEBRATION!”

Below, in the fracas, Sanctimony raised his hands and a ball of light fired into the air. It stopped just above the breach team, took the form of a smiley face, and glowed more like the sun than Judgement’s fists.

“IT’S A HAPPY SUNSHINE DAY! HOORAY!” the face yelled cheerily, then unleashed an onslaught of pure fire into the barrier.

The barrier bent, almost to breaking. Cracks widened, creaking.

“Almost… there…” Intellitron grunted over his overheating arm.

“WATCH MAN!” Sanctimony called.

From below, the eye-headed hero looked up, and took aim.

His beam shot up, joined the others, and more than doubled the pressure on the barrier. With a final shrieking like straining glass, and a snap like a rubber band, the barrier shattered.

The wall of swirling darkness smashed, like a hole punched through glass. A jagged gap in the chaos, flames vanishing into one side and reappearing on the other, like a hole in a screensaver. The heroes stopped their barrage and headed through.

“So, Watch Man provides security for The Guild, right?” Intellitron queried to no one in particular. “Nothing else? With powers like that?”

No one answered as they alighted on the roof beyond. The roof of Cosmo Tower was simple. A flat rooftop covered with brown gravel, with a helipad and a door. Nothing special.

Or at least that’s how it was before Dark Dragon moved in.

Now, there was a throne, carved into the shape of a pile of skulls, resting on a plinth. Behind the throne loomed a tower, one with crystals and miscellaneous machinery welded into it. A creature, presumably a demon, was in the rigging, carving ancient symbols into the metal. The tower sparked with red energy, the power channelling upwards, aiming towards the sky.

But there was no sign of Dark Dragon himself.

“Maybe he’s not home?” Cron hoped.

The air rippled as grim laughter echoed from all around.

“No such luck,” Omi sighed.

“So, the heroes have come to battle me yet again,” Dark Dragon’s rumbling voice came from nowhere. “They bring their many champions, while I stand alone.”

With a wash of dark fire, Dark Dragon materialised, seated in his throne. The Sword of Songs gleamed in one hand, his palm resting on the pommel, the blade’s tip on the ground.

Behind the heroes, the helicopter landed, and Lucy and 14 jumped out. Both of them paled as they saw Dark Dragon in person.

“And now there are witnesses to my victory, and your destruction,” Dark Dragon sneered.

“This is all you, J-Man,” Stealth Watcher prompted, stepping back.

“We’ll be here if you need us,” Judgement all but retreated.

Omi gave a thumbs up, while Cron pushed Justice Man forwards.

“Are we seriously just fighting him one on one?” Intellitron whispered.

Judgement quirked an eyebrow. “It was your plan!”

“I didn’t think you’d take it so literally!”

Justice Man tiptoed forwards, before recalling himself and posing proudly. He swaggered forth, hands on hips, his head up and eyes ablaze, though there was a slight sheen of sweat on his brow. His gaze locked onto the Sword of Songs, his sole target. He just needed to get-

The sword landed at his feet, as Dark Dragon tossed it to him.

“Pick it up,” the demonic warrior snarled.

“Pardon?” Justice Man sputtered.

“I no longer need such a prop. The sword has freed my power, forever, this wretched tool of The Choir. And I will face them in time. But now I stand in opposition to you, Justice Man, my greatest mortal foe. You are a warrior, a proud one, so I will face your challenge. I will fight you, and I will crush you at your strongest, the Sword of Songs in your hand. And I wish them to see what it turns you into.”

He pointed to the watching heroes.

“I wish your comrades to know what I already suspect. I want them to witness your true strength, your true self, and then watch as I crush you under my heel,” Dark Dragon growled, his voice so deep the others could feel it in their bones. “Pick it up.” He pointed to the sword.

“I’m… I’m not so sure about this anymore.” Justice Man took a step back.

Dark Dragon’s hand went to his side, a blade of crimson fire forming in his hand.

“Pick. It. Up.”

Justice Man looked for reassurance from the crowd, but everyone else looked just as confused. So, warily, he stepped forwards, bent down for the sword, and reached, his eyes on Dark Dragon the whole time. Dark Dragon just watched, red eyes drilling through his soul.

Finally, Justice Man’s hand met the brass handle.

There was a flash of light as power coursed out, surrounding him in a swirl of stars. In a spiral of light, his orange and blue outfit turned to gold and silver, and his already muscular form grew, stretching the outfit to its limits. Justice Man flexed his new muscles, smiled, and raised the sword to fight.

“Finally, we shall see the true you,” Dark Dragon purred, then sprang at the hero.

Justice Man stood steadfast, matching Dark Dragon’s blade with the Sword of Songs. Brass met fire, as an overhead strike hammered Justice Man’s feet through the roof gravel. But the hero countered, parrying Dark Dragon away, before taking off in flying pursuit.

The pair danced in turning battle. Dark Dragon had the speed and strength, but Justice Man had flight and telekinesis. The hero pushed his swings with his mind powers, and then dodged the riposte with flight. And he needed to. Dark Dragon was hitting like a truck. Each swing sent Justice Man reeling, or almost buckled his legs, strong enough that even with telekinesis, Justice Man could barely hold them back.

With a flick of his fiery blade, Dark Dragon almost disarmed the hero, and slashed a line across his chest. The blade scorched and scarred the golden suit, before Dark Dragon hammered an armoured fist into the centre of the cut. With a crack like thunder, Justice Man crashed to the floor, raking across the gravel.

“As I suspected,” Dark Dragon growled, staring down at the broken hero. “Pathetic.”

“What is going on?!” Judgement worried from the sidelines. “The sword should have made him more powerful than this, right?”

“I mean, yeah,” Cron agreed. “He’s Justice Man!”

“But he’s almost weaker than he usually is,” Intellitron noted, an authority on the subject.

As Justice Man tried to stand, flecks of gold dusted off his suit, grated by the gravel. A huge patch of flakes tumbled off his chest where the fist made contact, revealing his regular suit beneath, orange and blue. And padding where his new muscles should be. The demon knight approached.

“I… I don’t understand,” Justice Man panicked, clutching gold flakes in his fingers.

Dark Dragon stood over him. “The sword takes your inner strength and turns it into power. But there is no strength inside you, Justice Man. You are a warrior, that I cannot deny, one to rival even me. But there is no purpose. No devotion. You are no hero, Justice Man.”

Dark Dragon lunged, a boot on Justice Man’s chest, pinning him under the heel.

“A pitiful fool,” the demon proclaimed. “You lack true purpose. You merely fight because it is what you believe superheroes do. You were granted these gifts, strength, flight, but now all you are is a joke. You save lives, but you never once questioned your role. A shallow imitation of a hero, who doesn’t know why he fights. Never knows why he does anything!”

Dark Dragon’s heel ground Justice Man’s ribs, as the caped crusader writhed.

“Even your image is stolen, a shadow of your idols, The League of Titans,” he hissed the name. “An outfit from Chorus with colours from Indestructo. Even your skills are a poor mimicry, from Mask Man and Fist Puncher. Beneath your golden veneer, your so-called valour, you are no hero, Justice Man. You are just the imaginings of one. A child playing dress-up. There is no will in you. No drive. No purpose. There is only the delusion of a man. A man who strives for greatness, but does not understand what makes a man great.”

Dark Dragon removed his foot.

“You are nothing.” He raised his sword.

“No!” the other heroes cried.

“Do something, you daft idiots!” Lucy roared, drawing and emptying her pistol into Dark Dragon’s hide.

While most of the bullets ricocheted off, sending heroes leaping for cover, one hit true, flying into Dark Dragon’s helm straight between his eyes. Dark Dragon’s head recoiled, and his sword missed Justice Man’s scalp by inches.

Lucy took a moment, genuinely sure she’d just killed Dark Dragon, until his head began to lower, aiming its sights on her. The helm spat out the bullet. An armoured arm raised, pointing the sword at her, and swung.

“Washburn!” 14 tackled Lucy to the floor as a crescent of infernal energy sliced overhead.

Lucy looked up at the henchman on top of her. Despite the save, she did not look pleased.

“Seriously? Can you get off me now- Oh hell! MOVE!” She wrapped her arms around him and rolled, as a burning downward slash followed.

“Rush him!” Judgement commanded, and every hero leapt into battle.

At the edge, 14 and Lucy disentangled themselves, and got back up.

“Detective, I think it might be safer if you waited out of the way.”

“I think you might be right, Henchman 14. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” 14 drew his laser rifle and joined the fray.

Lucy meanwhile turned to the kneeling form of Justice Man, the sword dropped beside him, his golden outfit gone, replaced with his usual orange and blue.

“And you’re just going to sit there?” she eyed him.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here anymore,” the hero moaned bereft.

“You could at least do something.”

Justice Man stayed silent.

“Urgh…” Lucy complained to no one in particular. “Does it really have to be me who talks some sense into a superhero?”

Justice Man said nothing.

“Oh hell,” Lucy sighed.

At the same time, the other heroes hurtled towards Dark Dragon.

Judgement led the charge, her fists aglow, as she landed two punches to Dark Dragon’s helm, ringing his head like a bell. Cron was close behind, and delivered another pair of strikes to the knight’s stomach, pushing him back. The two leapt away, as Omi launched a barrage of throwing stars, flying like bullets, embedding in Dark Dragon’s armour. Stealth Watcher took up the rear, throwing a tiny device which magnetically attached and sent lightning lancing between the throwing stars. Finally, Intellitron aimed his cannon arm, charged a plasma sphere the size of a basketball, and fired.

The blast exploded, Dark Dragon engulfed like a neutron bomb going off.

The heroes waited as the smoke cleared. For a vain moment, they hoped it had worked. But they knew it hadn’t. They could feel it, Dark Dragon’s wretched aura. And, as the smoke cleared, Dark Dragon was stood precisely where he’d been, the throwing stars and zapper melted off of his armour.

“A futile waste of strength,” the demon knight growled.

The growl became a roar, flames pouring from his gauntlets, the blaze surrounding him like a cyclone. Fire shot into the heavens like a geyser, the inferno burning until his black armour glowed white-hot. Then, with a scream of infernal heat, the fire exploded.

Waves of fire coursed out, catching the heroes in the chest like a searing iron bar, winding them and burning their skin. Judgement alone held her feet, shielding herself with a pulse of her own energy. The air prickled as she stared Dark Dragon down. He stared back.

Fists aglow, she swung for his head. Dark Dragon narrowed his eyes. As she reached him, Dark Dragon moved with lightning speed, grabbed her by a glowing fist and planted a curled gauntlet firmly in her stomach. Lifting her with the impact, he grabbed her and threw her back the way she came.

Judgement landed in a one person heap, coughing and wheezing, right beside Justice Man. Lucy was still trying to stir him, mainly with obscenities, but Judgement’s eye caught something else as her head swam.

The Sword of Songs.

“Alright. Let’s do this,” she muttered, and reached for the brass blade.

Hand met handle, and there was a flash of golden light. Judgement floated, her outfit changing from black and gold to purple and silver. The glow faded just as abruptly, and she fell to the roof with a heavy crash, landing on two feet.

“This feels… weird,” she mumbled as purple-silver energy coursed over her suit. “Everything’s so… heavy.”

Realisation dawned, and her eyes settled on the sword in her hands.

“Oh. I get it!” She stood straight, and with a snap of her fingers, the energy dispelled.

Dark Dragon didn’t look impressed.

“Let’s do this!” Judgement repeated, squared her shoulders, and charged.

Dark Dragon barely moved, stretching clawed fingers and waiting.

Judgement surged towards him, then planted her feet and extended a hand, casting a cloud of silver-purple energy around the villain.

“The weight of your sins upon you, Dark Dragon. For I am the scales of justice,” she announced, the scales logo on her chest glowing. “Gravity powers, sucker!”

The scales on her chest glowed and animated, one side lowering. The gravity around Dark Dragon increased, the demon knight buckling, bending under the weight.

Judgement clenched a hand and the scales tipped further. She crushed him, his armour creaking, until she heard something new. A small noise separate from the creaking. A scampering, gravelly voice, as Artefax the Scrivener scurried over.

“My lord!” the demon panicked, unheeding of his master’s peril. “The tower!”

All eyes turned. Henchman 14 was firing his rifle, picking circuitry, crystals, and any loose technology he could off the tower, taking parts down with well-placed lasers.

“Excuse me a moment, Judgement,” Dark Dragon strained. He shot out a spare hand, wrapped his fingers around Artefax’s neck, and launched the demon bodily at Henchman 14.

The henchman did not see it coming, and the pair were ragdolled to the floor.

“Now. To business,” Dark Dragon hissed, and began to stand straight again.

As he rose, the scales on Judgement’s chest shifted back. She focused her new powers and tried to crush him harder, but he just pushed higher, raising the scales further. The moment they passed a balanced state, Judgement felt it. The weight came down on her, like sacks of flower dropped onto her back, pressing her to the floor.

Dark Dragon stood straight, lifting the invisible weight over his head.

“Die by your own powers, Judgement,” he hissed.

“I… am… Judgement,” the hero groaned, pushing back and failing. “I. Will. Not. Falter!”

Dark Dragon eyed her coldly, holding the weight one handed. “You resist, but you cannot win. Not with your own might and not with that sword. Your justice is weakened, your values lessened upon the scales,” he glowered, walking closer. “Once you were a woman of values. Strict, unbreakable, you believed you could be better than men of law. But look at you now. Time has softened your ideals. You no longer see your work as a duty, but merely as a chore. Your beliefs are faded, and with them your strength. You even bed a supervillain.”

“Hey! You can’t choose who you fall in love with!” Judgement dropped the sword, released her gravity powers, and fired a blast of her raw energy square into Dark Dragon’s face.

Again, Dark Dragon’s helm rang like a gong, launching him back as the gravity weight left him. His clawed boots grated as he landed, caught their grip, and stopped him dead. One gauntlet formed an orb of hellfire, shrank it until it was the size of a cricket ball, and fired it into Judgement’s chest.

“Oof…” she said, as the orb punched her in the ribs. It knocked the air from her, and then promptly exploded, the blast firing her clear off the roof and into a shorter neighbouring building. There followed a sound of smashing glass and a loud pained groan, then silence.

Dark Dragon glared around, sparing a glance towards Artefax, who was out cold. He instead turned to the Sword of Songs and found four boots, two red, two blue, standing beside it.

“Alright,” Omi said grandly. “Justice Man couldn’t stop you. Judgement couldn’t either. But we can… possibly… maybe,” he sputtered to a stop.

“More confidence, Omi,” Cron muttered, then strode forwards. “We’ll crush you into the dirt like the worm you are, you big dark creep!”

Dark Dragon just stared, the shape of his eyes indicating an amused smirk. He gestured a hand, offering the blade, his own crimson sword reforming in his spare claw.

“Who’s going first?” Omi whispered to his teammate.

“Do you want to?”

“Oh, I don’t want to step on your toes.”

“Cool, because I really want to,” Cron said, and took up the blade.

His grip tightened like a vice on the hilt, and a surge of red smoke swirled up his arms. It poured over him, turned the silver of his suit to scarlet, and turned his mask into a closed faced helmet. Then the smoke headed inwards, his muscles beefing up, as two long horns appeared from the helmet to complete the look.

“Ha!” Cron burst out excitedly. “I’m the unstoppable force. You’re the immovable object. Let’s solve this once and for all!” He charged Dark Dragon horns first.

Dark Dragon didn’t move. He held his sword at his side, raising his other arm like a matador without a cape. Cron charged him at a truly brutal speed, his feet burning tracks in the rooftop. Then, as his horns were moments from the demon’s plating, Dark Dragon slipped sideways, and swung his sword up Cron’s back as he passed.

“Yowch!” Cron yelled, the crimson blade grazing his rear. He kept running, turned in a long, momentum bound curve, and charged back at the demon knight.

Dark Dragon readied himself, but Cron spread his arms wide. There was no way he was slipping past this time. The hero sped like a human bullet train, almost parallel to the ground with acceleration, as Dark Dragon refused to budge.

Feet apart, Dark Dragon suddenly kicked, landing an armoured boot between Cron’s eyes.

It was like a car hitting a bollard. Cron hit the immovable boot, and all his speed flipped him into the air. Upside down, unwillingly somersaulting overhead, Cron could only yell. Until Dark Dragon’s hands came up, caught him by the waist, and stopped him dead in midair.

Cron stopped with a hrrk of whiplash, then opened his eyes above a broken nose, still upside down, looking up at the roof beneath him. He knew what was coming.

“Omi!” he yelled and hurled the sword, right before he was pile-driven into the ground like a post. His helmet departed him moments after the impact, leaving him very pained, but alive.

 The sword landed by Omi’s feet, the blue hero tentatively reaching for it. He watched his beaten partner, checking he was alive first, and stared in terror at the advancing knight.

“Here goes nothing,” he sighed, and picked up the sword.

Similar to Cron, a spray of blue mist surged around him. Silver became blue, and a bandoleer of razor sharp knives formed around his midsection. As the mist coursed into him, his form grew thinner, sleeker, and his eyes started to glow with intense white light.

“What the hell!” Omi yelled, spinning on the spot in alarm. He wound up facing the wrong way, staring at his surroundings through glowing eyes. “I can see for bloody miles… Wait, I can see my house from here. Hell, I can see my parent’s house, and they live in China.”

“Omi! Turn around you twit…” Cron grumbled, pulling himself out of a crater.

Omi turned and tried to aim his focus at Dark Dragon, who was not miles away, but only yards away and closing. It was like trying to read with a telescope. Finally, he managed to guide his vision and find Dark Dragon’s head.

“AHH! I can see into his helm! Oh god!” he screamed. “It’s a nightmare!”

Dark Dragon closed in on the panicking hero. As he did, Henchman 14 dashed in from the side, raised his rifle, and opened fire at close range.

“Take this you-” he yelled, and was clotheslined by Dark Dragon for his trouble, who barely had to adjust course to hit him.

Dark Dragon continued to charge, when Omi finally stopped yelling. Shaking off the fear, he drew three blades from his bandoleer, locked on, and sent them flying like bullets, each one cutting the air perfectly as they flew.

The first missed by inches. The second deflected off Dark Dragon’s sword. The third skimmed Dark Dragon’s hip, scratching the metal.

“Ha! Got you, you armoured afront to-”

Omi couldn’t finish the insult, as Dark Dragon reached him. He shoulder barged, grabbed Omi by the chest, and launched the lithe hero into the air with a throw. As Omi reached his apex and fell back to earth, the crimson blade came round like an executioner’s axe. Omi was practically hugging the Sword of Songs, which luckily took the hit, the hero getting batted across the roof like a softball.

With surprising accuracy, he landed beside Cron, both of them grunting in pain.

“Maybe if we wield it together?” Omi suggested.

“We can try,” Cron agreed, placing a hand beside Omi’s on the sword, re-sprouting his horns.

Dark Dragon twirled his own sword, glaring at them.

“One, a man of insight and accuracy. The other, a bull-headed brute,” the demon knight snarled. “Together, they are two halves of the perfect warrior.”

“That’s right, Dark Doofus!” Cron yelled.

Dark Dragon sprinted, and in a blink was right in front of them. They each panicked and pulled the blade in opposing directions.

“But two halves do not always make a whole,” the villain hissed, dispelling his crimson sword and lifting them up by their chests. With a spin and a wrenching twist, he hurled them to opposite ends of the roof, the Sword of Songs skittering to the ground somewhere between.

Over near Justice Man, Lucy had escalated to shaking him and yelling. She was seconds from slapping him. From nearby, Intellitron fired a small barrage of missiles to literally no effect. Dark Dragon didn’t even pay attention. Intellitron looked at the battle so far, saw how little damage his weapons had done, and gave up fighting. He instead started to think of a plan.

Dark Dragon looked around at the various beaten, broken, and berated heroes. A look of grim satisfaction shaped his eyes.

“Enough. The game ends here. No more shall stand against me. No more shall fall. Now the gate will open. I will meet my enemy and The Choir shall burn in my flame. My great work will finally-”

“Not yet!” Stealth Watcher called, appearing beside the sword where it embedded in the roof.

Dark Dragon turned.

“I tire of this,” he snarled, and charged for the little caped hero.

“It’s finally come to this…” Stealth Watcher hesitated, then reached for the sword. “Superpowers.”

His hand took the grip and a swirl of light and shadows surrounded him. The shadows took prominence, engulfing his form in an orb of night. Then, like an egg cracking, the sphere splintered and burst, exploding to reveal… Stealth Watcher. Looking very much the same.

“I… I don’t feel any different,” he said, inspecting himself.

Dark Dragon swung for him, the flaming blade scything the air. “Worthless. You are a man whose only point of pride is that you have no powers, yet you keep up with greater heroes. A man who prides himself on being merely human.”

“Wait? So I don’t get anything?” Watcher yelled annoyed, dodging backwards.

“Foolish creature. It is all that you are. A man amongst gods.”

“That’s bullsh- URGH!” Stealth Watcher doubled over as he took Dark Dragon’s fist to the gut. He collapsed breathless to the floor.

While this was happening, Intellitron looked around for any hope. There wasn’t much. His eye eventually alighted on the broken Justice Man.

“-you absolute, empty-headed, useless excuse for a hero!” Lucy berated the caped crusader. “Get out there and do some good!”

“Excuse me?” Intellitron addressed, cutting off the tirade.

“I can’t snap him out of it,” she snarled. “I hate to admit it, but we need him.”

“I agree,” Intellitron said gently, stepping forwards as Lucy took the hint and stepped back. “Hello there, Justice Man,” Intellitron tried to meet the hero’s eye.

Justice Man looked forlorn. He raised his head and his cheeks were stained with tears.

 “Why am I a hero, Intellitron?” he wept. “I mean, look at me. I always thought the answer was ‘Because I have super powers’. I got them and knew I was supposed to fight crime, because that’s what you do with superpowers. It’s what the League of Titans did. But why me? Why do I do it? I never worked out why. I never had my Moment. Never decided. Never worked out why I was doing any of this. I just did it. Why am I even here?”

Intellitron sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Alright, Justice Man, you’ve chosen an excellent moment for your first ever existential crisis, but we don’t have time. Instead, listen to me. You fought against me for many years, stopping me every single time. And why? Because you understand what’s right,” the former villain said certainly.

Justice Man didn’t look convinced.

“You understand good and evil, Justice Man. You always have. You know what has to be done, and to a lesser degree, how to do it. Now, maybe you were just playing dress up. Maybe you are an idiot. Maybe you don’t think through your plans, and your disguises are terrible.”

He locked eyes with the hero.

“But, you stopped me. Over and over and over again, you stopped me. Infuriatingly so. Now, I’m not good at motivational speeches, but listen to me now. Sometimes, the world doesn’t need a scalpel. Sometimes it just needs a good old fashioned hammer. Something simple and uncomplicated. Goodness purely for the sake of goodness. All those other heroes, they have backstories and motives that raise questions about who’s good, who’s evil, who is really right or wrong. But you, Justice Man, are a dense rock in a sea of shifting priorities and opinions. A lighthouse against the waves. For years, I prattled at you, telling you why I was right and you were wrong, and you never listened to a word of it, did you? And look at me now. Fighting the good fight. Because of you… kind of.”

Intellitron raised the hero by his shoulders, bringing him to his feet.

“You’re a hero, Justice Man.”

Justice Man sniffled. “Do you…*sniff* Do you really mean it?” he asked, wiping his tears.

 “Yes. I do. Now, let me make this very simple. Dark Dragon is hurting people. Hurting your fellow heroes. Hurting your friends. And very soon, he’ll be hurting innocent civilians. So, what are you going to do, hero?”

“I’m… I’m going to do what’s right,” Justice Man wiped his nose.

“And what’s that?”

“I’m going to save people,” he straightened up.

“And why?”

“Because… Because…”

“Because this is your Moment. Let it be your Moment. Decide now. Because who are you?”

“I… I… I. AM. JUSTICE MAN!” he exclaimed, hands back on hips in a classic pose. He was back. “Thank you, old friend. Now let’s take on this evil together,” he bellowed, his heroic tones ringing out again.

“Glad to hear it,” Intellitron agreed, and they turned to face Dark Dragon.

They turned just in time to see Stealth Watcher collapse in a heap.

“S.W!” Justice Man cried, then his brow furrowed. “You’ll pay for that, Dark Dragon!”

“Enough of these games. This ends now!” Dark Dragon answered, summoning a crimson sword into each hand.

“You’ll have to go through us,” Justice Man proclaimed.

“Of course he says us…” Intellitron murmured, and followed Justice Man into battle.

Justice Man flew top speed, causing a tiny sonic boom, planting a fist squarely in Dark Dragon’s armoured stomach. The blow lifted the villain from the floor and sent his eyes wide in shock. When he landed, he stumbled back, winded, forced himself upright, and crossed his blades to attack.

Blades swung, scorching the air, leaving trails of crimson flame. Justice Man danced back, dodging and diving, watching his opponent carefully. Dark Dragon was fast, and closing the distance constantly, faster than Justice Man could retreat. With a roar, Dark Dragon’s arms stretched outwards and swung across, his swords slicing in from both sides.

Justice Man thought fast. He turned his back to one sword, focused his mind, and blasted the other blade with telekinesis. The sword behind him met his indestructible cape, while the one in front was blasted clean out of Dark Dragon’s gauntlet.

Intellitron, meanwhile, was calculating the best plan of attack. He’d tried a plasma ball, he’d tried missiles, he’d tried most of the weapons he had. Now he needed something else. He needed precision. Delicate operation. Strategy.

Unfortunately, the only plan that formed required him to charge in like an idiot.

Intellitron leapt recklessly onto Dark Dragon’s sword arm and clung there like he was riding a bull. His eye fired a stasis beam, but it dissipated in Dark Dragon’s red aura, as unpleasantly expected. Instead, he raised his robot arm. Switching it to a blowtorch mode, he began to weld with a sparking glow, cutting into Dark Dragon’s armour.

“Good show, Intellitron!” Justice Man praised.

“H-Hel-p-M-E,” the former villain warbled as he was flailed.

“Parasite!” Dark Dragon growled, reaching for Intellitron’s neck with his free hand.

“Ha ha! Fallen right into our trap!” Justice Man called, and pinned Dark Dragon’s free arm across his chest, just shy of reaching Intellitron. “Keep going, Intellitron!”

Intellitron clung on as Dark Dragon shook him like he was trying to dislodge a bug. Even so, between a robot arm, a robot eye, and a lifetime of soldering, his cutting was still precise. With a few seconds of focused effort, he managed to cut some bolts and work a plate of armour off from Dark Dragon’s shoulder.

There was just more armour underneath.

“Huh. Should have expected that,” Intellitron murmured, before his grip failed and he was flung bodily across the rooftop.

He landed on his back, aching in a way that was both unpleasantly familiar and mildly nostalgic. He pushed himself up and watched Justice Man wrestle with Dark Dragon’s arms.

The monstrous villain clawed vainly at Justice Man with one arm, while Justice Man looked like he was trying to restrain a feisty drunk who wanted to fight. Finally, one of Dark Dragon’s claws lanced across the hero’s shoulder, causing a wince, as Dark Dragon inhaled a massive breath, aiming his maw for the heroes face.

Intellitron watched in horror. But Justice Man did not look worried.

The hero’s hands went to his shoulder, unhooked his cape, and as the first embers escaped Dark Dragon’s maw, he wrapped the unbreakable fabric around the demon knight’s head.

The flames seared out and filled the cape, inflating it like a balloon. Justice Man pinched it to Dark Dragon’s neck, the demon swinging his claws blindly. Justice Man gently took flight, still holding the fabric, floating out of reach, then delivered a devastating elbow drop down through his cape onto the helm.

There was a clang and Dark Dragon almost tent pegged through the floor. The fire stopped, the cape-bag deflated, but Justice Man wasn’t done. He launched a salvo of punches and kicks against Dark Dragon’s head and chest, playing the dark armour like a steel drum.

“ENOUGH!” Dark Dragon exploded, literally, as an eruption of flames blasted out of him. Justice Man hurriedly wrapped his cape around himself, as Intellitron trusted his personal forcefield to take the heat.

“We might need some help, old friend,” Justice Man called, before a dark gauntlet, still hot from the flames, grabbed him by the throat and planted him on his back into the floor.

“I am done with you wretched heroes! This battle ends now!” Dark Dragon raised his arm and summoned a crimson sword. “DIE!”

Justice Man’s eyes went wide. “The sword!” he yelled. “Intellitron, the sword!” he cried, stopping the falling crimson blade with his telekinesis and a hand to Dark Dragon’s wrist.

Intellitron looked around and spotted the Sword of Songs. It was abandoned in the middle of the roof, not far from the injured Stealth Watcher. Before he could even run for it, Justice Man’s telekinesis reached out and flicked it across the roof towards him.

“Well… Here’s hoping this works,” Intellitron said fearfully, then took up the blade.

Again, there was a flash of light, this time as blue as Intellitron’s skin. When it cleared, Intellitron didn’t look much different, only now his head was slightly bigger.

“What is this?” Dark Dragon paused mid-murder, eyeing the former villain curiously.

“I knew you had it in you, Intellitron!” Justice Man praised.

“Of course you knew, and I knew you knew. I know so much now,” Intellitron said, suddenly speaking in a posh accent for no adequately explored reason. “In fact, I know many ways to beat Dark Dragon. Such as, you could tie him to something heavy and throw him off a bridge. Bridges like the Southeast Bridge, the Northeast Bridge, Hero City Bridge…” He continued to list bridges.

“Um… Intellitron? What’s happening?” Justice Man queried.

“The South Sea Bridge, the Lost Bridge of Greystoke. Oh, this?” he stopped listing bridges to answer. “Well, it seems my inner strength has always been my intellect, even if my ego sometimes gets in the way. As such, the sword has increased my intelligence significantly, and allowed me to access every piece of information I have seen, heard, or even thought of. To tell you the truth it’s a little… overwhelming. Awe-inspiring, breath-taking, spectacular, remarkable, astonishing, shocking, dreadful, frightful, alarming, frightening, worrisome.” He fell to his knees, still reciting synonyms.

“Oh no,” Justice Man sighed. He looked up to see Dark Dragon’s fist. “Oh no!”

Dark Dragon smashed his head into the gravel.

“And now to be rid of this annoyance.” Dark Dragon got to his feet and wandered towards Intellitron.

Lucy Washburn, who’d been stood to the side and considering giving a play-by-play to Chief McElroy over the radio, saw that she was the only one left. Gritting her teeth, she sprinted forwards, stopped beside Intellitron, and emptied another clip into Dark Dragon’s armour.

“Am I seriously the only one still standing?” she yelled over her own gunfire.

Dark Dragon barely flinched, walking slowly towards her. When she ran out of bullets and went to reload, the villain raised a finger and fired a single spark down the barrel of her pistol, blowing the slide clean off it.

Lucy stood there holding half a smoking gun, with a paralysed former supervillain who was currently reciting brands of semi-automatic pistols, and Dark Dragon mere paces away. With nothing more to offer, she just stepped back.

Dark Dragon stopped over Intellitron, curled his fingers, and readied a deathblow punch.

“Die, Intellitron.”

“Die, expire, decease, end,” Intellitron ranted helplessly.

“BOSS!”

Dark Dragon’s fist fell, and a face got in the way. Henchman 14 leapt between them, taking the punch full on, almost landing on Intellitron as he stumbled back, still on his feet.

“Only the…” 14 spat out a tooth. “Only the second hardest I’ve ever been punched.” He wobbled.

“How many time do I have to put you down?!” Dark Dragon snarled furiously, and began to beat 14 like a speedbag, the henchman taking the assault with surprising tenacity.

Lucy watched the horrendous display, but forced herself to be pragmatic. Intellitron was still listing words that meant dead, and functionally useless, so she crouched down and levered the Sword of Songs from his hand using her broken pistol.

“-Perished, out of date, worm food- AH,” he gasped in relief, finally free. “Too much knowledge. Not doing that again.”

“Do you have a plan, Intellitron, because we’re getting our asses kicked?” Lucy shouted.

Intellitron looked up, and then around at the fallen heroes. Justice Man was just about stirring, Stealth Watcher was slumped over in the fetal position, Omi and Cron were individually just about standing, leaning against the edges of the roof, and Judgement had just appeared beside Cron, having flown back from the other building.

“Pray?” Intellitron suggested, getting back to his feet.

“Don’t give up, Intellitron,” Justice Man yelled tiredly. “This is what heroes do.”

“And who said I was a hero?” Intellitron quipped, then readied for battle anyway.

Dark Dragon finally stopped pummelling 14, having delivered forty or fifty punches to the unlucky henchman. Henchman 14, battered, bruised, and bleeding from three different places, barely balancing on his feet, lifted a hand with one finger raised.

“Alright,” he said through a swollen lip. “You might be number one now.” He collapsed to the floor.

Dark Dragon glowered at the beaten henchman, then turned to the others. Justice Man, Judgement and Intellitron were on their feet, while Omi and Cron were still struggling to keep theirs. Stealth Watcher was still collapsed, but started to move as he noticed the others.

“One final stand,” Dark Dragon hissed. “How pitiful?”

Justice Man and Judgement attacked first, taking to the air, doing the flying equivalent of limping. Intellitron meanwhile took the initiative and converted his arm back to a cannon, this time with rapid fire. He peppered Dark Dragon with bolts, as Omi, Cron, and Stealth Watcher groaned back to their feet. The bolts barely even scratched the furious supervillain, but gave the heroes just enough time to gather themselves.

“Charge!” Justice Man led with a wheeze.

What followed was not as dramatic as the heroes had planned. Beaten and bruised, they weren’t exactly dynamic. Justice Man and Judgement were slow and tired, and only managed a few punches before retreating. Cron snuck up behind Dark Dragon, arms around him, but was too sore to suplex the knight, and wound up getting an elbow to the stomach. Omi and Stealth Watcher fired projectiles from range, one producing smoke bombs, the other just throwing stars, but the hits achieved nothing at all, so the two heroes could only give up.

“More pitiful than I expected,” Dark Dragon mocked.

“Yeah, kind of,” Stealth Watcher agreed.

“Then it is time to put you out of your misery.”

Dark Dragon attacked, as the heroes gamely fought back. Tired and hurt, they weren’t going down without a fight, the groups trying to work together. But Dark Dragon was fast, strong, and furious. It was a losing battle. Every attack seemed inches from fatal. With a sweep of a leg, Dark Dragon pinned Justice Man, claws raised to kill, before Intellitron leapt in and fired a plasma ball point-blank into his back. The demon knight barely flinched, but span around to uppercut Intellitron back across the arena, as Stealth Watcher pulled Justice Man clear.

“It isn’t enough,” Intellitron panicked, picking himself up again. “We need more heroes.”

“Or something better than a hero, like the military or something?” Lucy argued.

“Something other than a hero…” Intellitron trailed off.

The last remnants of the magical superintelligence were still leaving his mind, like cobwebs being dusted. His thoughts caught the last hint of one idea. A plan he’d come up with buried amongst the madness and synonyms.

He looked over to Henchman 14, who was already lifting his battered torso onto two hands.

“That’s it!” Intellitron gasped, then sprinted across the roof. As he passed, he picked up the Sword of Songs safely with his robot hand, and headed for his henchman.

Dark Dragon noticed him go for the sword. He lazily launched a fireball at him while boxing with Justice Man.

Intellitron saw it coming, but couldn’t stop. Frantically, he reeled back and yelled; “14! Catch!” And threw the sword to him.

The fireball exploded metres away, and sent Intellitron hurtling back. Dark Dragon tracked the sword’s arc, decked Justice Man in the chin stunning him, and ran after the weapon.

“This. Ends. Here!” Dark Dragon bellowed, reaching for the blade, readying a burning fist.

14 staggered to his feet, half-blind from swelling, tasting blood, and every single muscle and bone he possessed aching. But Intellitron had given him an order. The sword landed a pace away from him, embedding blade first in the roof. He stumbled forwards and his hands landed on the hilt, leaning on it for support.

And then Dark Dragon’s fist met his face.

There was a crack like thunder, and 14 fell limp. His hands were still on the sword, his body dangling off of it like a fallen flag. There was a terrible silence…

Then he began to pull himself up.

There was a flash of white light.

It flowed from the sword, up 14’s arms and into his skin. Before everyone’s eyes, his cuts and bruises healed, his Hawaiian shirt and brown shorts became a leotard of white and black checkers, pauldrons and a helmet formed about his head and shoulders, each patterned to look like brick walls, and the outfit was finished with a black cape draped down his back.

“Why won’t you die?!” Dark Dragon roared, slashing through the glow with five sharpened claws. They met skin, 14 flinched back, and the glow faded.

The claws hadn’t even scratched him.

“What?!” Dark Dragon said in mild alarm.

“That… was weak,” 14 said, as utilitarian as could be. “And I should know, because I’ve been punched by every damn hero in the game. So you, Dark Dragon, can BUGGER OFF!”

14 slashed the Sword of Songs and carved a vertical chunk from Dark Dragon’s armour. Dark Dragon recoiled, grasping the wound in his chest, but barely had time to think before the blade came back down. It erupted with shining silver light as it fell, doubling, tripling in length. The demon knight leapt aside, to safety, and 14 didn’t even try to pursue.

The henchman just smiled.

The energy blade came down like a guillotine, the silver glow extending into a lance of glorious white fire. It was almost a hundred metres long. And it wasn’t aimed at Dark Dragon. The energy crashed through the demon’s radio tower, crushing the mast, the crystals, and all the machinery, hammering the entire structure like a peg into the building below.

“Attack, break stuff, win,” 14 said smugly. “So, what to break next?”

* * *

Not too far below, the sounds of battle rattled the building. From much further below, the war in the streets echoed up. Many of the demons looked about, wondering if they should aid their master above or help the cultists below, but in the end did neither as they had been set to their tasks of guarding the supervillains. The cultists amongst them though were a little more nervous, wondering about escape routes, but trying their best not to look disobedient.

Madame Mechanism remained at her console, scoping out her surroundings. Like a viper, she awaited her moment to strike. The cultists patrolled at regular intervals, the demons keeping to their posts, and as far as she could tell every villain in the city was in the building. She just needed the right moment to get started.

That was when the radio tower power-bombed through the roof, straight into the portal arch.

Well, it was as good a signal as any.

As various levels of security rushed to keep control, Mechanism made her move. Her nanomachines swarmed, her gloves became energy cannons, and she stun blasted five cultists as they ran past. She then leapt onto a computer bank, which gave her a view down the centre of the gutted tower, the dozens of enslaved villains looking up at her with the collapse above.

She stood before them, blue armour shining, all the demons paused like they were holding their breath.

This would have to be one hell of a speech.

“My fellow villains, hear me now,” she began, her tech amplifying her voice for all to hear. “Screw Dark Dragon!”

The air held tensely. Supervillains and monsters alike watched her. Then, slowly, like a gathering chant, came a shifting mumble throughout the tower.

“Yeah! Screw Dark Dragon!” The Torch agreed.

“He’s not the boss of me!” Winter Lord nodded.

“STATEMENT EQUALS TRUE,” Annihilator buzzed.

The tower was awash with new rebellion, the cultists and demons already trying to contain it. It just needed a little something more to get it to bubble over.

“Let’s wreck this joint!” Mechanism called, punching the air.

“YEAH!” answered a collective cry throughout the tower, and all hell broke loose.

Annihilator leapt off his wheel and tackled a nearby demon. Winter Lord froze a group of cultists, while Torch sent another group running under a hail of fireballs. Below, Bank Breaker could be heard ripping up paper, while Trickster bounced free from his pedal machine, grabbed a cultist’s face between his toes, said “Got your nose”, and bounced away. The cultist immediately fell into a panic trying to retrieve it.

That was easy, Tessa thought to herself. But that wasn’t the end.

Above, through the hole that had been punched in the ceiling, the sounds of battle roared. Dust fell as blows shook the building.

“Hmmm,” Mechanism wondered. “If I know Jude, she’ll be up in the thick of that.”

The cogs turned in Tessa’s brain.

“Nano? Build me a full battle suit, armed to the teeth, and with a self sustaining power cell. Then, detach from me.”

Mechanism’s silver backpack beeped curiously, then began to rattle and shake. Her hands became multi-barrelled machine blasters, the plating across her torso increased in size and density, becoming a suit of azure knight’s armour, and finally, the backpack was forced up and away from her back as a power cell the size of a keg formed beneath it.

With a snap, the pack detached to the floor, scuttling on legs formed from the straps. A little question mark appeared on a monitor where the pack’s face would be.

“I need you to do something, Nano. Go to the roof and give Judgement Chemical Sample 2C.”

Another question mark appeared.

“Because she needs help. Now do it!”

An X appeared.

“Look, I know you’re not fond of her-”

A Tongue Out emoji confirmed this.

“But if you don’t, and she gets hurt, then I’ll put you to work making paperclips for the rest of your natural life! And with a power cell like yours, that’ll be a long, long life.”

The X returned defiantly.

“What? I… alright…” Mechanism sighed. “You do this, I’ll stop forgetting to polish you.”

Three dots. Thinking. Then an up arrow.

“More?” Mechanism’s eyes narrowed. “Now you’re pushing it.”

Up arrow, up arrow, up arrow.

Mechanism sighed again. “Please, for Jude? For me?”

Three dots. A checkmark.

“Good boy! Remember, Sample 2C. Now get going.”

The pack scuttled off, climbing rafters and poles towards the new skylight.

“Have to fix that thing’s personality routines,” Mechanism considered as she watched it go.

Her thoughts were broken as a whip clanged against her armour and almost knocked her down. She turned to see Vanserox, the bird headed demon, staring at her.

“Oh, it is on!” she proclaimed, and opened fire.

* * *

On the roof, the dust cleared, and the heroes all looked on in shock. Dark Dragon stared at the hole that had once been a radio tower, his masterplan. Meanwhile 14 was investigating his new outfit, with a look of mild disgust.

“Urgh… At least it doesn’t have a cape…” 14 glanced back and saw the black fabric hanging down to his ankles. “Oh, damn it all,” he scowled.

“RAAAARGH!” Dark Dragon exploded.

His crimson aura erupted, turning from an ominous glow to a full blown inferno, his abyssal roar tinged with a shrill banshee scream, the very sound rattling the building. Then, with his eyes glowing like two red sunlamps, he summoned two swords and leapt at Henchman 14.

14, understandably, took a few steps back.

Like a berserker, Dark Dragon howled and crimson blades swung, his fiery swords slashing at 14’s torso. 14 dodged the first, the second met the Sword of Songs with a clang, but Dark Dragon continued to slash wildly, cooking the air between them.

Then 14 stepped on his cape and stumbled.

14 wobbled on his feet and Dark Dragon charged. With a deafening roar, both swords slashed into 14’s stomach… and stopped dead in their tracks.

“Oof!” 14 grunted, barely winded. “Oh, right… Indestructible. Good to have that confirmed.”

14 swung an arm and clonked Dark Dragon’s head with the Sword of Song’s pommel, breaking the warrior’s stance, then kicked him in the chest hard enough to launch him several yards.

“Super strength too. That’s good.” 14 twirled the blade in one hand, then smirked at the demon knight stooping before him.

“How?” Dark Dragon snarled, his eyes burning. “How have you done this? How have you been granted this power? You are no one!”

“No one?” 14 raised an incredulous eyebrow. “I’ve been in this business longer than pretty much anyone on this roof, pal. Hell, I’ve been doing this since before you came back, you coal coated cretin… My god that was a stupid insult. I hope ‘Heroic Wit’ isn’t contagious.”

Dark Dragon narrowed his eyes. “Decades of service to a blue skinned fool, but in all that time you have achieved nothing. Just a shadow on someone else’s stage. A worthless little fool, with no will of his- ARGH!”

14 cut him off, sprinting and carving a fresh score across his armoured stomach.

“Poor villains get caught monologuing, DD. Thought you were better than that. I mean, you’re normally so taciturn,” 14 smirked as Dark Dragon retreated to a safe distance.

“Now, when it comes to me, I am not nothing,” the henchman said firmly. “I’m a lifetime henchman who has spent every single day knowing my place in this performance we call Hero City. And no, I’m not the star centre stage, but I do keep things moving behind the scenes. I draw the curtains and work the trapdoors. But, to abandon the laboured metaphor, I know my role, and I’m happy to serve. I’ve served though it meant spending the last twenty years dealing with every obnoxious, overzealous, trumped-up, delusional caped-crusader this city can throw, and that’s not even talking about all the rival villains like you, DD. I have been punched out, thrown through walls, shot, beaten, broken and bashed by every so-called hero under the sun, but every time, every single time, I got back up. I came back. I kept working. Because, even though I questioned it with every broken bone, I knew this was what I wanted to do. To serve Intellitron. To make the world better, in his way. And even when that failed, even when we lost, I at least knew we might have put some wretched hero, so full of ego and pomp, in their god damned places.”

14 locked eyes with the demon.

“And now here you are, DD. Too big for your boots. Head too swollen for your helmet.”

The henchman squared his shoulders and held his sword two handed.

“So, to save this city, let’s dance, you black metal bastard!”

14 rushed him, blade twirling, a smarmy grin on his face.

Brass met crimson blade, as 14 chopped and sliced. Not exactly a skilled swordsman, his ineptitude in the field was made up for by the fact he was indestructible. Dark Dragon tried to parry, riposte, guard, and counter, but 14 wouldn’t play. With no need to dodge, crimson blades bouncing off of him, he just kept attacking, chopping blindly, leaving Dark Dragon only room to guard.

Eventually, 14 reeled back and swung the sword like a baseball bat. Dark Dragon raised both blades to block, crossed them, and took the hit head on. This quickly revealed itself as a mistake, as the crimson blades split like breadsticks, shattering into scarlet flames, and paved the way for 14’s sword to carve a chunk out of Dark Dragon’s helmet.

Dark Dragon fell back, landing in a pile of himself. With a groan of metal and pain, he struggled to his feet, a stream of black smoke pouring from his wound in place of blood. His eyes glowered, still burning with rage… but they were different. The arrogance was gone.

There was fear there now.

“So, DD, how about ending this peacefully? Surrender, we take you to jail, you break out a while later like villains normally do?” 14 offered, resting his sword on his shoulders.

“I will not be felled by some pitiful insect,” Dark Dragon accused.

“Pitiful?” 14 objected. “No need to pity me. I’ve got a pretty good life, you goth pedal bin!”

“I will not fall here… I will not! If I cannot face The Choir… if I cannot face my true enemy… Then I will do what my portal failed to do. I will level this city by force!”

Again, Dark Dragon’s aura erupted into flames. Within the flames, his armour buckled and shifted, plates moving and taking new shape. His form swelled, doubling, then tripling and quadrupling in size. When the horrid transformation was finally complete, a beast stood before them. A massive actual dragon, with vast crimson wings and two extra heads extending from where the shoulder plates used to be. The creature stood on four legs thick as tree trunks, its tail lashing around and covered in blades. Even so, the beast’s torso was scarred and black smoke poured from a fractured horn on its middle head.

“THIS CITY WILL FACE ITS END AT LAST! AND I WILL BE ITS EXECUTIONER!” the monster roared, its voice sounding as if an abyss could talk, arriving in their minds without passing through the air first.

The beast spread its wings, flapped once like a hurricane, and took to the air, screeching into the night.

“Bugger…” 14 cursed, staring after it.

The rest of the heroes, and one former supervillain, had all been watching in stunned silence. They suddenly stirred to life.

“An impressive showing,” Justice Man proclaimed, slapping 14 on the back.

“Alright,” Cron said excitedly. “We can put this in the bag. We just need to take that overgrown lizard down. Who’s with me?” He held up a triumphant fist.

“The rest of us can provide support,” Omi agreed. “Today, we defeat Dark Dragon!”

“Yeah!” everyone agreed in unison.

“And then, we get that sword back to Melody Planker,” Judgement added, looking nervously at the powered up 14.

“Yeah!” everyone agreed again.

“One problem,” 14 said, very much in a tone to drain excitement. “I can’t fly.” He pointed up at the currently airborne Dark Dragon.

“Oh…” everyone deflated.

“I brought the hover throne?” Intellitron offered. “Only problem, his focus will be on you and it isn’t exactly manoeuvrable. One hit and you’re sunk.”

“Same would be true of the helicopter,” Omi nodded.

“And I need that to get down from here,” Detective Washburn added sharply.

“Then I see no other option,” Justice Man said grandly. “I will carry him.”

“Pardon me?” 14 looked alarmed.

“I will carry you aloft on my shoulders, and together we will best this tyrant.” He looked 14 in the eye, giving a gentle smile. “While I may not remember you, henchman, Intellitron says we have met many times. As such, you must know that I will not let you fall. So, do you trust me, Henchman 14?”

Intellitron put his hand to his forehead, while most of the other heroes just furrowed their brows at the mental image. 14 just stared at Justice Man. Then he looked to the massive dragon overhead, then back to Justice Man.

“Let’s do this,” the henchman accepted tiredly.

“Huzzah!” Justice Man celebrated, then lowered to offer his shoulders.

“But not on your shoulders. You’re carrying me under your arm with your super strength. No way am I riding you into battle like a horse.”

“You’d prefer to be carried like a football?” Cron queried.

“Honestly, yes,” 14 nodded, then stood beside Justice Man patiently.

Justice Man wrapped an arm around 14’s waist, then with a testing hover to adjust his grip, held on firmly. When both were happy, and more specifically 14 stopped complaining, they took off into the sky after Dark Dragon.

“Omi! To the hoverbikes!” Cron announced.

“Already calling them,” Omi pulled a device from his belt.

“Good luck with that,” Intellitron bid, getting into the hover throne and taking off in pursuit.

“Detective Washburn, shall we pursue?” Stealth Watcher offered, pointing to the helicopter.

“Only at a distance. I’m not going to pretend that we’re anything more than spectator’s at this point,” Lucy agreed.

“Judgement? You coming?” Stealth Watcher turned.

“I don’t know what I can even do against that monster,” Judgement said gravely. “I hit him with everything I had and I couldn’t even scratch him. And now he’s a giant dragon to boot.”

“They still need your help, Judgement. You just need to provide an opening for 14, or anyone really,” Stealth Watcher reassured.

“I know… It’s just-” Judgement stopped, as something tapped her leg.

By her ankle was a small metal backpack, walking around on its straps.

“Oh! Hello there,” she recognised Madame Mechanism’s machine.

Behind her, Stealth Watcher and Washburn headed off without her, as she stooped down to examine the pack.

“What are you doing here?”

It beeped, and showed the letters S.O.S.

“You’re here to help?” she intuited.

It beeped again and a small drawer opened on its front. There was a canister inside that resembled an aerosol.

“Tessa wants me to have this? What is it?”

The screen displayed: Chemical Sample 2C

“That… doesn’t really help me.”

The screen displayed leaves.

“Okay. It’s some kind of plant. What kind?”

More leaves.

“That doesn’t narrow it down! Bloody machines…”

The pack recoiled, taking offence, but held the course. Its screen changed again, this time displaying a white candy with a red swirl on it.

“A sweet? Why would Tessa-” The answer struck her. “Peppermint…”

Multiple tick marks and celebratory trumpets appeared on the screen.

“God… I can’t believe Tessa would consider this…” Judgement gingerly picked up the aerosol, holding it like a volatile grenade. “She knows what this stuff does to me.”

The pack showed an arrow pointing up towards Dark Dragon.

“Yeah… Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Judgement agreed. “For the city.”

She took the aerosol and sprayed it in her face.

The effects were immediate. The spray soaked in, and within seconds her skin began to change colour. From its usual dark-brown, to more of a walnut, to tan, then straight through yellow, all the way to gold. Her skin glowed like the real sun, her powers untamed, her allergy to the minty substance setting the power loose.

“You, get back to Tessa,” she told the pack, her voice echoing with raw power.

The pack didn’t need telling twice. It scurried away.

“Meanwhile, let’s show Dark Dragon what I can really do.”

She took off like a rocket, leaving scorched footprints on the roof behind her.

* * *

Back inside the tower, all hell had broken loose. Villains fighting demons and cultists, the demons armed with hellfire, the cultists armed with whatever weapons they could find, while the villains were armed with superpowers and super technology.

So far, the demons were winning.

Initially, the frenzied riot had given the villains the edge. A few demons were destroyed outright, a dozen cultists went to flee, and the villains pressed the advantage.

Then the demons began to organise.

Spread across the floors of the tower, a few whip cracks, an array of echoing commands, and a firm order for a demon to bar the doors, and everything started to turn their way. They all followed Vanserox. The cultists, now unable to leave, fell into order, armed themselves, and went to fight. To the demons it was second nature, living as servants to Dark Dragon. The villain’s were having a harder time. Most of them were selfish, cruel, and misanthropic by nature, so teamwork didn’t really feel like an option. They were soon divided and would fall.

And they were getting their asses handed to them too.

Madame Mechanism crouched behind a control panel, cultists shooting, two demons throwing fire, and their supposed commander, Vanserox, stood amongst it all readying his whip.

“Flank her,” the bird headed demon commanded. The cultists fell into lock-step.

Mechanism groaned, but took the moment to assess her situation. Here she was, huddled behind a control panel, about to be flanked and shot. To one side was Annihilator, a demon was sitting on him, his glass globe head being spun on the demon’s finger like a basketball.

No help there.

To the other side were Winter Lord and Torch, who were pinned down behind some pipes, the pair playing rock-paper-scissors to decide which of them would provide cover fire and who would run. They were both clearly cheating, and were already on their eighth game.

No help there either.

The only other villain on the floor was Trickster, who was currently flipping and bouncing around, a demon looking at him in absolute confusion.

Urgh… Definitely no help there either!

Mechanism stopped and processed the information.

“Alright, Tessa,” she said to herself. “How screwed are you?”

Fairly screwed, her thoughts answered.

“You’re getting flanked, and about to be shot.”

Well, her mind answered again, the cultists shouldn’t be a challenge. A high gauge sonic pulse and you can knock out both advancing sides.

“Alright, but what about the two demons providing hellfire support?”

Again, her mind continued, its tone optimistic, those demons shouldn’t be too tough. One has one leg, while the other is a lumbering oaf. A couple high density plasma blasts and they’re out cold… probably.

“Okay. What about Vanserox?”

Her mind was silent.

“No plans there then?”

Silence.

“Just winging it then,” Tessa confirmed. “It’s traditional.”

Hey, it works for the heroes.

“Sure… Now or never,” she braced, just as the cultists appeared either side of her cover.

They were armed with a collection of pipes, swords, and a couple of guns. It didn’t matter though. Mechanism charged her hand cannons, aimed for the centre of each group, and fired an orb of pure sound into each. The pulses exploded like a musical bomb, filling the air with deafening feedback noise, the cultists sent flying in a burst of sound.

Mechanism smiled.

She leapt from cover and sprinted. A fireball hit behind her, and another landed ahead. As the demons primed two more, she stopped, rolled, and flipped back the way she’d come. The two demons, one resembling a one legged manikin, the other a frog half melted, were both a little slow to react. Their fireballs landed where she was headed a moment ago, as she ran back to her cover. Two more blasts were thrown, and again, Tessa flipped, span, and sprinted back, heading in her original direction again. Again, the demons missed, their fireballs blowing chunks out of the control panel.

Mechanism kept moving. Still sprinting, she waited for the next volley. They landed ahead of her, until she flipped, span, and as the demons finally caught on and aimed behind her, Tessa activated her thrusters and took flight, hurtling straight towards the beasts.

She was halfway there before they noticed.

Her arm cannons charged and two blasts like miniature supernovas fired. One hit the frog demon, sending the flabby mess into the wall, splatting like a slug. The one legged demon meanwhile took the blast full to the chest, but rather surprisingly, it bent at the waist and sprung back up again, its single foot anchored to the ground.

“Crap!” Mechanism cursed, as the one legged demon prepared a fireball, and Vanserox swung his whip.

The hellfire shot first, missing her by inches, the dopey demon barely able to miss at this range. Vanserox meanwhile wasn’t a fool. He anticipated her dodge, and the whip ensnared her ankle, pulling her towards the pair.

Think quickly, Tessa, her mind screamed.

And she did.

Activating her thrusters, she jetted towards the demons, putting slack into Vanserox’s whip. It uncoiled from her leg, she slipped free, and flew upwards, charging another plasma blast. She landed the shot between Vanserox and his ally, where it exploded. Vanserox was barely ruffled, and the other hopped clear, bouncing on his solitary leg.

“Aha! You’ll never defeat Kibold the Balanced!” the one legged demon called, hopping proudly. “I have stood alongside Dark Dragon and never fallen. Never even tripped. And today will be no different. I will stand, and nothing will make me fa-AAAALLLLL,” he cried, as his foot slipped from under him and he tumbled down the central shaft of the tower.

Where his foot had been, lay a single yellow banana peel. Trickster sat nearby giggling.

Vanserox put a hand to his forehead and dragged it all the way to the end of his beak. He wordlessly drew his hand axes, tied one axe to his whip, and swung the makeshift chain-blade up at Mechanism.

“Crap!” Tessa swore, deactivating rockets and letting gravity take her. The axe scored the ceiling, then pulled down to pursue her. She rocketed and fired herself at Vanserox, but he was ready. She bounced feet first off the flat of his axe, landing before him as he reeled in his whip. Dodging the axe on the whip, she produced two energy blades from her wrists, and began to fight.

Blade met axe, but Tessa knew this wasn’t good. She was half his size, running low on power, and not exactly a master at close combat. But she knew she had to take him down. He was commanding the troops. If he died, panic would flood the enemy ranks.

She just needed to beat him.

But that wasn’t so easy. Vanserox was fast, managing to almost chop her legs a couple of times. He tripped her with his whip and sent her tumbling into a nest of cables.

“Crap, crap, crap,” Tessa grumbled. She heard bird taloned feet, but waited. She heard the feet spring, Vanserox flying at her. As he neared, Mechanism sprang upright and fired another plasma blast square into Vanserox’s chest.

Or at least, that had been the plan.

The blast hit the demon’s axes, blocking over his heart. Rather than explode, the ball just pushed against the blades, even as the demon landed in front of her.

She stood face to face with the plasma orb, which began to whine unstably.

“Oh, ultra-cra-” she managed to say, before it exploded and launched her into the wall.

Tessa wasn’t sure what happened next. She simply woke up, in pain, and her rear end embedded in a vent. Vanserox meanwhile barely looked scorched.

Madame Mechanism pulled herself free, aching, but landed on her feet. Very much aching. She looked around, hoping for a miracle. One didn’t seem likely. Torch and Winter Lord were still arguing, Annihilator was still inactive, and Trickster was currently messing with the demon sitting on Annihilator’s body, asking it about “Updog” and providing it with jars from his straitjacket to open, all of which contained spring snakes.

Straitjacket…

The word clicked and a plan formed. Trickster! She needed to get his attention.

She sprinted straight at Vanserox, but on the way picked up the banana peel. She scrunched it up, threw it, and with tactical aim, ricocheted it off a wall into Vanserox’s left shoulder.

“Don’t slip!” she teased. It was a bad pun, she knew, but she needed to be funny.

The demon turned, brushed off the peel, then crushed it underfoot. He didn’t even slip, just marching towards her.

Tessa continued to charge, firing a small rocket from her back. It flew up, over, then spiralled round, before it slowed, and rather than explode, it tapped the demon on the shoulder. The demon turned to see who’d tapped him, and just stared at the tiny projectile.

“Made you look!” Mechanism exclaimed, and fired a volley of plasma into his back.

Vanserox span, snarling, only taking the time to crush the missile between fingers. He swung his axes, carving the floor with the blades, as Tessa danced around him, trying to make it look fun. She needed to look fun!

Nearby, Trickster suddenly took a great interest. He started smiling. Giving the demon atop Annihilator a comically large finger-trap, he sprang off cartwheeling towards Mechanism.

“Wow, Mechanism! I didn’t think you liked practical jokes,” he said playfully, carelessly dodging the demon’s axes.

“I’m- I’m not very- good- at them” she gasped as she frantically dodged for her life. “Tell- you- what. Why don’t you show Vanserox your best one?!”

With an energy blade, she cut the bindings on his straitjacket.

“YIPPEE!” Trickster launched into the air, bouncing and dancing with his new range of movement. Vanserox looked on in confusion as the clown turned to him.

“Hey, Vanserox?” Trickster said.

“What?” the demon barked.

“What did the door say to the joke teller?”

“What are you on about?” the demon hissed.

“I don’t know, what did the door say to the joke teller?” Mechanism teed him up.

“It said… Knock knock,” Trickster finished, and with a flip, tapped both of Vanserox’s shoulders simultaneously.

Vanserox froze. Trickster landed with a happy grin. Tessa watched on with a mounting sense of dread, mainly because she knew why Trickster was forced to wear that straitjacket.

Vanserox began to shake, as if his body was fighting itself. Because it was. Like his head was trying to look over both shoulders simultaneously. Because it was! It was Trickster’s power. Any prank he played would work, no matter the logic. Even lowly pranks, such as “Got your nose” or “Look over there” or tapping someone on the shoulder and then not being there when they looked round. You’d look. And he’d tapped both shoulders. Simultaneously.

Vanserox looked.

With a rip, a bird-like shriek, and a series of anatomical sounds, Vanserox’s head turned in two directions at once. Messily. The demon lay dead, his head split down the middle.

“Good lord…” Mechanism swore.

“A double tap is double the fun!” Trickster proclaimed.

Below, various demons had looked up at the terrifying noises, and a few had witnessed Vanserox’s fate. But, just to drive the point home, Tessa pushed what was left of the slave driver down the central shaft, causing a vast amount of turmoil in the tower below.

“Who else wants a double tap?” Trickster asked innocently to everyone in earshot.

The turmoil turned into full-blown panic, and all structure in the enemy ranks collapsed.

The villains had the advantage.

* * *

The air cut past 14 and Justice Man as the glowing city stretched out below them. Above, the expansive form of Dark Dragon loomed. The demon’s three draconic heads were aimed together, an orb of hellfire forming between their maws. With a roar, the fireball screamed towards the city.

“I got it!” 14 called, channelling energy down the Sword of Songs, and firing a crescent of silver power through the fireball. The wave sliced it in two, blowing it up, and then took a chunk out of a high rise building behind it.

“Oops.”

“FOOLS!” Dark Dragon roared, diving at them.

“He really needs a thesaurus or something, doesn’t he?”

“Heads up,” Justice Man said casually, and threw 14 upwards.

Dark Dragon hurtled under 14 and over Justice Man, the air pulling at them like a jet. Justice Man gamely aimed his telekinesis and fired a beam of pure energy, barely blemishing Dark Dragon’s hide. 14 meanwhile just screamed. Dizzy, and spinning, and falling, he finally stopped when Justice Man caught him with his telekinesis.

“Oh god! Which way’s up?” 14 struggled, his eyes still spinning.

“Sorry. I thought you were ready for that,” Justice Man said.

“Why in the world would you think-” 14 stopped, genuinely too angry to keep arguing. “Forget it. Just get me close to Dark Dragon. And warn me if you’re going to do that again!”

“Understood.”

“Also, I know this was my idea, but why carry me under your arm? You have telekinesis?”

“It honestly didn’t occur to me.”

“Nor me,” 14 muttered angrily, but there was something in Justice Man’s sincerity. You couldn’t stay mad at the guy… for very long anyway… though 14 would certainly try.

“Just get after him.”

“Right,” Justice Man nodded, and sped off like a bullet, 14 floating alongside.

Dark Dragon swooped towards the city, four sets of talons aiming for a skyscraper. His claws cut the air, his reflection darkened its windows, and then Dark Dragon bounced off something. Like a very large fly hitting an even larger window, there was a blue shield between him and the building.

“WHAT IS THIS?!”

“A simple force field,” Intellitron announced, hovering up on his chair.

“YOU TRAITOROUS VILLAIN!”

“Hey! I retired from villainy years ago. Haven’t paid membership dues in a long time. You’ve got no power over me,” the former villain said proudly.

“DIE!” Dark Dragon roared, lunging at him.

“Other than your literal power… to kill me. Hmmm…” Intellitron realised. “Oh well.” He pointed a mechanical finger up. “But he’s got power over you.”

Justice Man and 14 dropped between the monster and Intellitron, and 14 fired another crescent of silver light. The wave cut clear through one of Dark Dragon’s shoulders, nearly severing his left most head.

“AHHH!” the beast roared in pain.

“Serves you right, attacking my boss, you big-“ 14 stopped, spitting and spluttering. “Gah! How do you flying heroes avoid getting bugs in your teeth?”

“You get used to it,” Intellitron soothed.

“DIE! YOU’LL ALL DIE!” Dark Dragon snarled, aiming all three maws at them. He breathed fire.

The inferno burned, but Intellitron pressed buttons and moved the forcefield. The fire coursed harmlessly over it, like they were watching the flames through a blue TV screen.

 “Thanks, boss,” 14 saluted.

“I couldn’t let my favourite henchman get burned… or my former nemesis,” Intellitron smiled.

“I’m your favourite?” 14 practically glowed.

“Um, chums?” Justice Man pointed after Dark Dragon, who had taken the distraction to flee. He was currently barrelling towards the pristine peak of the Pinnacle Building.

“I suppose we should catch up,” 14 suggested.

“I don’t know. It wouldn’t be the city’s biggest loss,” Intellitron debated.

“Intellitron!” Justice Man shot a judgmental look.

“They stole my tech once you know. And I’m pretty sure Cosmo co-owns it.”

“Intellitron…” Justice Man shook his head.

“Uh, guys? I would actually be pursuing him, but I don’t have independent movement in the sky,” 14 piped up.

“Oh, right,” Justice Man realised and gave chase.

They needn’t have bothered however, as a glowing yellow figure intercepted the demonic beast. Judgement flew like a rocket, energy blasting out of her feet, and overtook Dark Dragon, before performing a loop of the Pinnacle Building to swing back.

Like a comet, she crashed into Dark Dragon, planting a glowing set of knuckles between his middle pair of eyes. There was a clang like a building sized bell, the sound warped like tempering a drum as Judgement fired a follow-up energy blast into the demon’s ribs.

“YOU WRETCHED, VILE,-”

“Save it!” Judgement cut him off, punching his left head so hard that it smacked into the right one. She then swooped and delivered a phenomenal uppercut to the middle head, her glowing fist exploding with power and blinding light.

“RAAARGH!” Dark Dragon vanished in the brilliance.

When it cleared, both Judgement and the monstrous villain were still standing… or floating. As Judgement gasped, getting her breath back, she admired her work. But her heart sank, as she saw all she’d managed to do was crack one of Dark Dragon’s chins.

“Bugger,” she cursed. “Oh well.” She pointed behind the dark beast. “He’ll do better.”

14, Justice Man, and Intellitron hurtled up behind. 14 charged his sword, and in quick succession, fired three crescent waves. Each hit true, knocking the beast back, causing grunts of pain.

“14? Heads up?” Justice Man asked.

14 nodded. “Do it!”

Near Dark Dragon, Justice Man dove under, while 14 was thrown overhead. Two dragon heads looked down, one looked up, while 14 charged his sword mid-arc.

“Screw off, you big lizard!” 14 bellowed, and with a swing like thunder, brought his blade down on Dark Dragon’s spine.

14 dropped like a hammer. The sword struck, carved a gaping wound in Dark Dragon’s back, and sent the monster spinning, his wings useless as he tumbled. 14 stopped, caught by Justice Man’s telekinesis, and they watched as the titanic dragon fell.

14 looked down. He saw a certain building.

He saw a target. “Throw me at him,” he instructed.

Justice Man obeyed, launching the henchman.

“Batter up!” 14 cried, and with a swing of his sword, knocked Dark Dragon out of the sky. With an epic thud, the demon crashed into the roof of the Marigold Building. “Bullseye,” 14 grinned.

With grace and care, Justice Man, 14, Judgement and Intellitron landed beside the demon. They watched as the mass of demonic metal crunched and buckled, and gradually became the demonic knight Dark Dragon. His armour was punctured, black smoke poured out of a dozen different wounds, and one of his pauldrons was missing entirely.

“Hrrgh,” Dark Dragon groaned, glaring daggers at Henchman 14. “No. I will not fall to you!”

14 twirled his sword. “Good luck with that.”

14 threw the blade into his off-hand, curled his fingers into a fist, and with lightning speed, punched the demon knight halfway across the roof.

“God, I have been waiting to do that to someone else for twenty years!” the henchman cried.

“And now to end it,” Justice Man stepped forwards triumphantly.

“Yep. Send this monochromatic menace back to the hell he came from,” Judgement agreed.

“Monochromatic menace? God, the superhero insults are lethal,” 14 sighed.

“You’re telling me,” Intellitron smirked.

14 gave a laugh, twirled his blade back into his good hand, and advanced on Dark Dragon.

“No… NO! You cannot best me!” the demon screamed, struggling to his feet. “NO!”

He reached back, ripped a chunk of masonry from the roof, and hurled it. All the heroes leapt for cover, but 14 took it on the chin, stepping through the resultant cloud of dust.

“Sorry, DD. You can’t hurt me.”

“No! You are nothing! An insect!”

“Harsh coming from a tin soldier,” 14 mocked.

Dark Dragon stepped back but was running out of roof. With a hurried consideration, he bent his knees to leap back, ready to drop to the streets below.

A pair of muscled arms wrapped his wrist.

“Justice will prevail,” Justice Man called, holding Dark Dragon in place.

“Let. Me. Go!” Dark Dragon growled, trying to pull free. His other gauntlet flickered with fire, until his other wrist was wrenched in the opposite direction, gripped by glowing hands.

“I’ll spare you the pun about facing Judgement,” Judgement said proudly.

Justice Man and Judgement pulled, holding their enemy down. But Dark Dragon paid neither any attention. His focused hatred was still on 14.

“I will not be defeated by you!” he hollered.

The demon raised both arms, lifting Justice Man and Judgement like ragdolls.

“You are no one. Just a hired lackey!”

He swung the heroes and smashed their torsos together.

“You aren’t even an individual!”

The pair fell limp, Dark Dragon throwing them both away.

“You’re merely a number! Not even a name!”

14 smiled.

“I am more than just a number, Dark Dragon. I am a crony, and a goon, and I’ve even been a thug at times. But my name is not a number.”

He primed his sword.

“My name is Edmond Fortnight! And you will remember it!”

With a single thrust, he buried the Sword of Songs into Dark Dragon’s heart.

“But you can call me Henchman 14.”

14 pulled the sword, metal grating on metal, leaving a gaping hole in Dark Dragon’s chest. Dark Dragon fell to his knees, clutching the wound, and with one last hateful glare, his eyes went out. Dead.

The body fell, and for a moment was still. Then searing red lightning danced across the armour. As 14 watched, the power poured out into a pillar of crimson light. Dark Dragon’s lifeless form rose into the air, sparked and convulsed in the light, and finally, with a literal bang, it detonated, sending shards of black metal to every corner of the roof.

Justice Man hid under his cape, while Intellitron generated a small barrier around himself and Judgement, the projectiles just bouncing off Henchman 14. As they all stood, examining the scene, it finally sunk in.

“We did it…” Judgement said in shock.

“That we did,” Intellitron confirmed, placing a hand on her shoulder, then hurriedly took it off as her golden glow heated his metal.

All four stood in wrapt silence… which was broken as two hoverbikes swooped in.

“Get ready, Dark Dingus, because Omi and Cron…” The pair stopped and examined the scene. “Aw man! Did we miss it?” Cron complained.

“I knew we shouldn’t have left the bikes at home,” Omi said irately. “Well, at least we can give you guys a lift to the ground.”

* * *

Omi and Cron parked up their bikes, as everyone who was flying worked out who was getting carried. Meanwhile, Lucy and Stealth Watcher landed in the helicopter, which mostly solved the issue, and 14 decided without question to ride with them.

Judgement, after venting some of her excess energy, finally stopped glowing, but was already suffering the after effects of her allergy, her nose bunged up and a headache coming on. Damn peppermint, she thought. Her phone buzzed and she read the incoming text.

Hi. Day saved? Tessa’s text asked.

Yep. Day saved. Explain later, Jude answered.

Good. Anyone still atop Cosmo Tower?

No. We’re over on the Marigold building now.

Good. BTW, you might want to look.

Judgement looked, just in time to hear the rumble. Across the skyline, Cosmo Tower shook, wobbled precariously, and with an ear shattering bang, it collapsed straight down like a house of cards, leaving a gap in the skyline where it had been.

Jude’s phone buzzed again.

Now anything Cosmo had on us is gone too. XX.

* * *

The heroes descended, landing near the new ruins of Cosmo Tower. Despite the size of the building, the rubble had only fallen inward, and by the look of things no one had been hurt.

Sanctimony led the heroes, gathering cultists who had escaped the tower. There was also a parade of demons, orderly lined up, with Sanctimony using mystical paperwork and form filling to send them back to their home dimension.

Of course, the press swarmed the border. Questions abound, Justice Man, Sanctimony and a few others stepped forwards to answer them. Meanwhile anyone who neared Detective Washburn got a badge in their face and a death stare. 14 stayed near her.

“So… you actually did it,” she said in a side-eyed way.

“I’m just as shocked as you,” 14 chuckled.

“They’ll be singing your praises by morning.”

“Oh, don’t remind me. Maybe they won’t recognise me once I put down this stupid sword,” he consoled himself. “They never have before.”

“You can only hope. Still, it was very impressive,” Lucy complimented half-heartedly. “Chief McElroy will certainly want a full debrief.”

14 looked aghast. “Oh no, detective. I know how much of a fanboy he is!”

Lucy smiled. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on subjecting you to him, 14. We should talk in a more informal setting. A bar or something. Just the two of us.”

“Just a casual drink?” 14 checked.

“A formal drink, yes. I’ll still be on duty after all.”

14 understood. “A formal, everyday sort of drink. Not like a date in any way whatsoever.”

Lucy shot a glare that could peel paint. “Listen here, you little-”

“Woah, woah!” he raised his hands in surrender. “Just messing with you, Washburn. Just a joke. It’ll be an official debrief between two people who respect one another. That’s all.”

Lucy maintained the glare, then slowly let it go. She produced a business card.

“Get whatever you need doing sorted, then call me. Try not to take too long.”

“Speak to you soon,” he accepted the card.

“Oh, and Ed? Stay out of trouble… as best you can anyway,” she bid with a final smile, then moved to join up with the local officers.

As 14 watched the crowds, and Sanctimony handled the press, Justice Man giving a small speech, Intellitron subtly shuffled over to his henchman, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. And as 14 watched the flash of cameras, the heroes cleaning up, and his boss at his side, it finally hit him.

He’d saved the day. It was over. Hero City was safe. He had done it!

He was a hero.

Hand of Fate

The sky hung dark and the city buzzed. The park, in comparison, was quiet with only the occasional drunk wandering through. A homeless man slept on a bench, tucked under a newspaper, one which proudly proclaimed an upcoming parade to celebrate the prosperity of Hero City, chosen specifically for its irony. The street lights shone, revealing only the occasional racoon rummaging through the trash.

The lights flickered.

Small sparks danced up and down the lampposts. The bulbs blinked, the air riled into a small gale. The racoon fled, the homeless man scarpered, and even the drunks made themselves scarce. The electricity built up all around, then like lightning, sparked into the centre of the plaza, converging on a single point. The power surged, the bolts met, and a flash of light left a strange anomaly in the air.

The anomaly swirled, a storm of light, clouds, dust and darkness. A ravelling and unravelling storm, spinning in and out of itself. An array of rainbow lights danced into its heart, then flared back around the edges. Occasionally, a beam would fly in, pulsing and flashing in an array of colours, and not come out.

One of the scarce drunk people pulled out their phone and called the cops. After their third attempt describing the event, they finally found an officer who believed them and stopped telling them to sleep it off.

Chief McElroy was first on the scene, taking the lead. This was big game. He also dragged Detective Lucy Washburn along, very much against her will. They both knew what an anomaly would attract. Superheroes.

Lucy stood tiredly at the edge, smoking a cigarette, and waiting. She stubbed it into the ground, grinding it with her heel, as a dark figure swept through the bushes nearby.

Lucy sighed. “Look, whichever hero you are, just step into the light? And if you’re a villain, come out with your hands up.” A hand rested on her gun, in either case.

A dark, sheepish form emerged. Hands raised, cape and cowl, the form was shadowy in both manner and costume. Black cape, grey mask, with the letters S.W. on his chest.

Lucy sighed louder. “Hello, Stealth Watcher.”

“Hello, Detective Washburn,” came the growling reply. “Am I allowed on this site or are you going to shoot me?”

“I’m not in charge here, so you’re fine. But I’ll inform McElroy you’re here. Be ready for that,” she said with a small smirk. “Are you alone? Because I thought I heard a heroic swooping just now?”

“Um… hi, Detective Washburn,” Judgement floated down, into sight. She was a young hero, mid-twenties, with dark skin, black slicked-back hair, and a full, strong figure. She wore a black and yellow outfit with the scales of justice as a logo, topped off by a small eye mask.

“Oh joy. Judgement,” Lucy gave a faintly disappointed look. There was history and a little respect in it too. But, almost as revenge for their arrival, she smirked again. “Two of you should be interesting. McElroy will go nuts.”

“Guild of Heroes rules specify two heroes for… weird anomalies,” Stealth Watcher pointed at the vortex still gathering nearby. “One with scientific knowledge and one with… hrm… super… powers,” he finished in a tiny voice.

Lucy just kept up her smirk. “I don’t particularly care. I just know Chief McElroy will be pleased. I’ll just go get him.” Her smirk became a sharklike grin as she left.

Stealth Watcher and Judgement braced themselves. McElroy was a renowned superhero fanboy, and Lucy would take real pleasure stoking that fire.

* * *

 Many signatures and eight selfies later, Stealth Watcher was led up to the anomaly. Whatever it was, it was growing, getting brighter, the clouds whipping faster. While Watcher readied his tools, Judgement floated overhead, making sure the anomaly wasn’t having other effects on the surrounding area. McElroy was at Stealth Watcher’s shoulder, practically buzzing with excitement, as Watcher approached and pulled a gizmo from his pocket.

“Hrrm,” Stealth Watcher murmured, examining the readout.

“What does it say, Stealth Watcher,” McElroy asked, relishing any chance to say the hero’s name. The Chief was an older man with a crop of greying red hair and a strong Scottish accent, but in all his career he had never lost his love for heroes.

“Hrrm,” Stealth Watcher repeated, glancing up at the anomaly.

“What are you looking for, Stealth Watcher?”

“Hrrm…”

“What can you detect, sir?”

“Bloody nothing,” Stealth Watcher grumbled. “It’s an anomaly. As in, anomalous. As in, not expected or understandable. I haven’t got a clue.”

“Oh… Then what does that gizmo do?”

“It’s a thermometer. I had to start somewhere.”

As Stealth Watcher held up the thermometer, lightning burst from the anomaly and fried it in his hand. Watcher dropped the now flaming gizmo, as the wind built and the edges of the anomaly reached closer. Much closer. It was growing alarmingly fast.

“Run!” he suggested to the chief.

They both turned and ran.

Everyone got to a safe distance, the anomaly growing by the second, the light at its core swelling into a miniature sun. White light flared and fragmented into other colours. Judgement landed, energy wreathing her hands, ready to stop whatever came through. Finally, in a last flash of blinding light, the core took shape, shot past Judgement, and skidded to a stop on its heels. Heels it suddenly had. It had taken the shape of a person, the glow fading like cooling metal. When it was gone, there was a man there, one looking very confused.

“What do you bet? Interdimensional traveller or alien?” Chief McElroy asked Stealth Watcher, both hiding in a bush. Watcher didn’t react. He slipped out from the shrubbery and strode cautiously over to the figure.

The stranger was wearing a head to toe bodysuit with the face exposed. The suit was black with an array of rainbow coloured lines decorating it. His face was a little wrinkled, though still held a youthful vigour, maybe late fifties, early sixties, possibly much earlier. There was a spark of someone much younger in his aged eyes.

He looked around, bewildered by his surroundings. At last, he saw Stealth Watcher, eyes wide and worried.

“Where am I?” he said in a panicked voice.

“You’re in Hero City,” Stealth Watcher said calmly.

“What year is it?” he asked, only getting tenser. “I don’t recognise this place.”

“The year is…” Stealth Watcher paused. A memory connected in his head. A photo he’d seen, but of a much younger man. He was certain. “Hold on. Laser Lad?”

“Yes?” the stranger answered.

“Who?” Judgment asked, still behind him, startling the poor man.

“You’re Laser Lad!” Stealth Watcher gasped.

“That’s me,” the stranger waved. Then logic kicked in and he relaxed. “Oh my, that’s a relief. If you know me, then I can’t be that far into the future. Or the past. I was aiming for the Tuesday after I left. How did I do?”

“What day did you leave?”

“Sunday.”

“I…” Watcher didn’t even bother to calculate. "You’ve… been gone a mite longer than you hoped,” he broke the news.

“How long?”

“You went missing thirty years ago… give or take?” Watcher hazarded a guess. “How do you feel?”

“I feel… old,” Laser Lad answered, deflating to lean against his knees. “Thirty years?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Watcher patted him on the back.

Laser Lad’s knees gave way and he sat tiredly on the floor.

Judgment sidled over to Stealth Watcher. “Who?” she asked quietly.

“Laser Lad. He’s one of The League of Titans.”

Judgement shook her head.

“A team of heroes from the old days? You’ve heard of Chorus?”

Judgement lit up. “Of course! Wait, this is one of her team? But you said… I heard he died a long time ago. Some kind of refraction incident, right?”

“Stranger things have happened,” Stealth Watcher dismissed.

“Excuse me?” Laser Lad called over. “Did I hear you say Chorus?”

Watcher nodded. “Yes, we did.”

“Do you know where she is? Or Swoop, or Mask Man, or Burno?”

Both heroes went a little stiff at the name Burno.

“Wow. He has been gone a long time,” Judgement whispered.

“I need to make some calls,” Stealth Watcher hurried away. “The big guy would never forgive me if I didn’t tell him about this.”

* * *

As Stealth Watcher made his calls, Judgement looked after Laser Lad. Though “Lad” felt an odd term, considering. He was older than her by a factor of two, again, apart from that youthful glint in the eyes. Also, she was not a hero historian, so didn’t know the fates of The League. She only knew Chorus was still alive, and that Burno hadn’t remained a hero. She broke the news gently about his turn to villainy and his rebranding as The Torch, not that Laser Lad seemed surprised.

Stealth Watcher soon returned and filled in the gaps he knew, which honestly wasn’t much. Suddenly, a reverent hush fell over the area. The police whispered as a caped figure descended. Even Judgement looked excited.

Justice Man landed in the plaza. His orange suit with a blue stripe down the middle was distinctive, alongside his famously indestructible blue cape. His torso was almost triangular with muscle, and his head was bald and shining. His features were strong, his skin was fair and flawless, and he smiled with a big cheesy grin.

Stealth Watcher groaned in frustration and hurried over to the big lug.

“Do we need the theatrics?” he whispered.

“It always pays to make an entrance, old friend,” Justice Man beamed.

“But this isn’t a meet and greet. Look, he’s been gone a long time, so please, be careful. Keep the fanboy in check!” he whispered harshly, having to stand on tip toes against the man twice his size.

“I will, I will,” Justice Man assured. His smile strained, barely keeping his nerves, as he strode over to Laser Lad. He stood before his idol and cleared his throat.

“Hello, sir,” he greeted with a shrill voice crack.

Stealth Watcher put a palm to his forehead pre-emptively.

“Um… Hello?” Laser Lad answered.

“I’m Justice Man, and I just wanted to say, I’m a huge fan of yours, you and the rest of The League of Titans, and I for one want to welcome you back to this time and reality. And, when this is over, I would like to ask you for your autograph. I have massive respect for you.” Justice Man let out a big breath. “Alright I’m done. Down to business.”

“Oh… Well, thank you,” Laser Lad gave a genuine smile. “I’m sure we can get that all sorted out later.”

“Thank you, Laser Lad,” Justice Man gave a thumbs up.

Stealth Watcher stood in surprise. That had gone quite well. He’d honestly expected much worse, all shrill crying and-

“Oh. My. God!” Judgement hissed in a high pitched squeal. “It’s Justice Man! He is so cool!”

Watcher sighed. He had not been paying attention to Judgement. She was practically vibrating, almost as much as Chief McElroy, who thankfully remained out of the way.

“Keep it cool, Judgement,” Watcher said coolly. “Just be cool.”

“I’m cool. I’ll be cool,” she assured. He didn’t believe her for a minute.

“So, what seems to be the problem?” Justice Man asked his idol.

“Well I was traveling through time, and- Wait, do I know you?” Laser Lad sat to attention. He inspected Justice Man’s face.

“You… you know me?” Justice Man queried.

“I wasn’t expecting Laser Lad to be a fan of yours,” Watcher commented.

“I’ve seen you. Justice Man, right? I saw you when the world was on fire. Has that happened to you yet?”

Justice Man checked the files of his mind. A lot of fire. It had been a long career so far.

“I… don’t think so,” he concluded. “Buildings on fire, yes, lairs, certainly, even a fireworks factory once. But not the world, no. Not yet anyway…” Justice Man paused. “Oh! The future! The world will be on fire.” He paused again. “When?”

“Oh, can’t be for a while. The city was in shambles,” Laser Lad dismissed. “It looked nothing like this… assuming it was Hero City. I was drifting a bit… time and space and everything.”

“But it was me?”

Laser Lad nodded.

“Then, Was there anything important I should know? My age? Whether I was dying or anything? Missing any limbs?”

“No, you seemed well. You and everyone else were fine, it was the city that was on fire.” Laser Lad eyed Judgement a moment. “You might have been there too, but it was difficult to tell. I was a scatter of lasers rattling up and down the timestream, so forgive my memory.”

“Um… You’re forgiven?” Judgement said.

Laser Lad thought hard. “I think I heard something too. You guys were talking, and I heard you say something. You said: ‘The Hand of Fate was key, Justice Man’. I think she was saying it, and you’re Justice Man, right? Thing is, I’m not sure what that means; The Hand of Fate. Not unless destiny was involved or something.”

Justice Man looked to Stealth Watcher, who nodded imperceptibly. They both knew, and knew it best to be subtle.

Judgement, meanwhile, was not on the same wavelength.

“Wait, does he mean The Hand of Fate, as in, the person?”

Laser Lad looked confused, but Justice Man smiled, not wishing to worry him. He quickly excused himself and Judgement, while Chief McElroy arrived with a soothing hot cocoa.

“So, The Hand is tied up in this?” Stealth Watcher reconvened. “Averting some kind of apocalypse?”

“The Hand of Fate. That’s the guy who guides people to their powers, right?” Judgement asked. “That’s who we’re talking about?”

Stealth Watcher nodded. “He appears and guides heroes to their origin stories. First recorded appearance, 27 years ago, there’ve been maybe a dozen heroes helped by him. Omi and Cron were sent to a cave where they found their power stone. Gun Shooter got his guns after he was sent to a specific gun shop. And The Hand supposedly pushed Cartwheeler down a slope so she discovered her incredible sense of balance.”

“Only a dozen? Is that all?”

Stealth Watcher nodded. “That I know of, but a dozen in thirty years ain’t bad.”

“And that’s only the heroes,” Detective Washburn interrupted, appearing beside the huddle.

“Pardon?”

“Look, I don’t like working with you heroes, but I think you ought to know. A while ago, years back, we foiled a criminal case. The Ted Barry thing?” She looked to Judgement, who had unfortunately been involved. “Ted almost became a supervillain, but we found he was directed to the tech by The Hand of Fate, or so he says.”

“But Ted Barry didn’t actually become a supervillain,” Judgement recalled. “We stopped him.”

“No, I stopped him. You interfered,” Lucy argued. “But yes. The Hand failed. I’ve got people looking into that, but they haven’t made much progress. So, and I hate to say this, it might be useful to get some supers involved. Plus, anything you learn about an upcoming apocalypse would be useful. If the world’s ending, I’d like to get my affairs in order.”

“So, that’s it. We’re tracking The Hand of Fate? One of the most elusive and mysterious figures in all of Hero City?” Stealth Watcher summed up.

Lucy shrugged. “Hey, it’s your prerogative. Who can tell you supers what to do?” Her eyebrow raised, looking at one in particular. “Um… Is the big guy alright?”

Stealth Watcher and Judgement looked at Justice Man, who had been strangely quiet. He was staring dreamily into the distance.

“He knows my name,” Justice Man grinned. “Laser Lad knows my name.”

Lucy rolled her eyes and walked away. Stealth Watcher shook his head, then looked to Judgment for a flake of sanity. She was staring at Justice Man with stars in her eyes.

“He’s so down to earth,” she muttered. Watcher resisted the urge to just leave.

“Hey! Big man!” Watcher clapped his hands to garner attention.

Justice Man snapped out of it. “Yes?”

“What’s the plan, Justice Man? Tracking The Hand of Fate will be like catching smoke.”

“Oh, I have a solution for that,” Justice Man said certainly.

“You do?”

“Yep. I know a guy who knows a guy,” he asserted.

“That… is alarmingly non-specific.”

“Hey! Justice Man knows what he’s doing,” Judgement defended.

Justice Man smiled gratefully. “Thank you. It’s Judgement, right?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” she beamed.

“Well, Judgement, we have a bit of a journey. I’ll carry Stealth Watcher.”

“Grand,” Watcher growled.

“And where are we going?” Judgement kept beaming.

“An island resort. Have you ever had dealings with Mr Intellitron?”

Judgment’s joy vanished. “Yes. Once, sir. And it didn’t go particularly well.”

* * *

Judgement and Justice Man flew out to Intellitron Resorts, with Stealth Watcher in a bridal carry, much to his disdain. Intellitron Island, as it was legally known, was tropical, green, with a mostly dormant volcano and the most beautiful beaches this side of paradise.

It was only a few miles off the coast of Hero City, and also situated the former evil lair of Justice Man’s former nemesis, the dreaded Mr Intellitron.

Of course, that was before Intellitron put aside villainy. He’d built the resort to hide his lair, to explain why boats kept heading out there, but then the profit margins came in. He was making more from the resort than anything he’d ever produced from the evil lair under it. And so, the dreaded villain Mr Intellitron became Frank Intellitron, resort owner. Needless to say, the transition was… difficult. But now, the world had moved on and Intellitron Resorts was one of the most popular tourist destinations in the hemisphere.

Though people were still reasonably wary of the resort staff.

It was almost dawn as Justice Man set down, landing them on an upper plaza overlooking a theme park. The theme of the park was supers, with rides themed around all the most famous heroes and villains. Far below, a robotic Justice Man was waving at the kids.

“Put me down,” Stealth Watcher growled, and leapt out of Justice Man’s arms. He soon found a gun barrel trained against his chest. “Umm… guys?” he drew attention to it.

The trio were surrounded by eight members of the resort staff, all former henchmen. Each had a number for a nametag, training blasters on the heroes. The eldest amongst them, a middle-aged man dubbed 14, was clearly in command. He was also wearing a pink Hawaiian shirt.

“Justice Man? You’re not breaking in here again, are you?” 14 asked warily.

“Oh please,” Justice Man dismissed.

“What does he mean ‘again’?” asked Judgement.

“The big guy has had a bit of trouble adjusting after Intellitron retired,” 14 explained. “He’s had some trouble accepting that the boss isn’t evil anymore.”

“Oh, that hasn’t happened in ages,” Justice Man tutted.

“Weeks,” 14 corrected.

“That last time wasn’t my fault.”

“You thought he was building a killer rollercoaster.”

“Well it said-“

“A perilously good time,” 14 finished. “It’s called marketing, Justice Man. And you can apologise again to Henchmen 8 and 13 for breaking their noses.”

Two of the staff flanking glared from behind bandages.

“Sorry,” Justice Man shrank back.

“Why are you here, Justice Man?”

Justice Man’s confidence returned. “Oh, yes. I’m here to talk to Intellitron. I mean Frank. Whichever he’d prefer. It’s important.”

14 looked to Stealth Watcher and Judgment for confirmation. Watcher just nodded, Judgement eyeing the guns warily.

“Alright. Weapons down,” 14 commanded. The staff lowered weapons and went back to their jobs. “You three, with me. The boss is in a meeting, but he’ll be free soon.”

14 led them inside and their surroundings soon became very villainous… in décor if nothing else. Long dramatic corridors, ostentatious and gaudy gold decorations, large tableaus of Intellitron beating Justice Man, now with plaques to site the artist and its cost.

As they went, Justice Man led the way, clearly familiar with the layout, while Stealth Watcher marched close to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. Judgment slipped behind them to walk beside 14.

“Hey, um… What’s your name?” she asked.

He pointed at his name badge. “Everyone just calls me 14.”

“Right… Okay, 14. I know this might sound strange, but do I know you from somewhere?”

“You don’t remember me?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Did I rescue you at some point?”

14 laughed. “No. Quite the opposite actually, but I’m not surprised. Justice Man’s met me dozens of times, yet he still rarely recognises me.” He turned to give the fullest view of his face. “You sure you don’t recognise me?”

“Sorry, no. I can’t quite place you.”

“A hint then. Three weeks ago you threw me into a crate and then threw the crate into my colleagues.”

Realisation flashed over Judgement’s face. “Oh my god! You were one of Madame Mechanism’s henchmen?”

“Helping out the family,” he shrugged. “She’s Intellitron’s niece, so might as well. But you know all about that, don’t you?” he said with a knowing smile.

Judgment floundered for a moment, but luckily didn’t have to for long. They reached a large set of double doors, which Justice Man marched through, even as 14 hurried to stop him.

As expected, Mr Intellitron was inside, a phone to one ear. He was a tall man with sapphire blue skin, one robotic eye, a robot arm, and a grey beard where every hair zagged like a lightning bolt. He was also wearing a red Hawaiian shirt and brown shorts which showed off his spindly legs.

He looked round, saw Justice Man, and sighed.

“Trevor, I’m going to have to call you back. Yes, just make sure the delivery arrives on time. No, they need to be blue. No, blue, Trevor. Sorry, I’m going to have to go. Bye. My love to Anna. Bye.” He hung up and slipped the phone into his pocket.

“Mr Intellitron,” Justice Man said grandly. “We meet agai-”

“I’m sorry, sir. I told him you were in a meeting,” 14 interrupted.

“It’s alright, 14. As long as he isn’t smashing through a wall then I’m thankful,” Intellitron reassured. “So, Justice Man, what brings you to my door? And it’s actually the door this time.”

“I need information,” Justice Man continued in grand tones. “Myself and my fellow heroes are pursuing an elusive foe, and I know you have a grand source of knowledge.”

“Sure. I’ll help any way I can,” Intellitron said.

“Very well. Can I have the number for that guy you called years ago?”

Intellitron paused, an almost audible record scratch coming from his thoughts.

“You came here for a phone number?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Which one?”

“You know, the one from years ago. That one.”

“You’re going to have to be way more specific.”

“You know… During the whole team-up thing? The government thing? The Justice Girl thing?” Justice Man specified, while still being frustratingly vague.

Intellitron’s robot eye literally flashed as realisation hit. “You came all this way, dragged them here, and interrupted my work, all for Conspiracy Jeff’s phone number?!” he asked, his tone straining as frustration at the idiot built.

“Yes.”

Everyone else in the room slapped their foreheads. Intellitron himself seemed to be somewhere between genuine confusion and subdued, pathological rage. He took a meditative breath and muttered some reassuring words to himself, then reopened his eyes.

“Here.” He handed over his phone. “It’s under Jeff.”

He was inches away from giving the phone to Justice Man, then a horrifying image crossed his mind. Conspiracy Jeff talking to Justice Man. All Jeff’s theories about lizard men and THE MAN. And Justice Man being stupid enough to believe him…

He smartly gave the phone to Stealth Watcher instead and left them to it. While they worked, he looked straight at Judgement, who had been trying to fade into the background. He gestured a finger for her to follow, and led her out onto the roof.

* * *

The view from the roof of Intellitron’s office was beautiful. The theme park, the distant morning lights of Hero City, the sea, the sun, and the sand. It was too bad Judgement couldn’t enjoy it as her heart was in her throat.

Some years previous, Judgement and Mr Intellitron had met. During Judgement’s first battle with her own nemesis, Madame Mechanism, Intellitron had interrupted to reprimand his niece over the theft of technology. Judgment hadn’t understood though. She’d attacked Intellitron, got hit by a stasis beam, and woke up later with no clue where the villains had gone.

And now the villain who once put Justice Man through his paces was standing before her.

“So, Judgment, it’s good that we finally get to meet,” Intellitron said slyly. “Formally, that is.”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir. Our last encounter was… inelegant,” she apologised.

“I would say so,” Intellitron agreed, hands behind his back in a classic villain pose. “But, you were not to know, I suppose. Still, a little awareness that evening could have saved us both some unpleasantness.”

“I’m just thankful you didn’t hurt me, sir,” she all but pleaded.

“Yes. And now you are the nemesis to my niece, Madame Mechanism. My niece. My sole joy back during my years of villainy. She deserves only the best,” he said sharply.

“She does, sir.”

“She does. And she gets you. You, her nemesis, her adversary… and the love of her life.”

“Yes… sir,” Judgement said slowly.

Madame Mechanism was also Judgement’s girlfriend. Relationships are complicated.

“Is my niece well?” he asked with the same imperious tone.

“She’s very well. We just started redecorating the lounge.”

“And you’re treating her like the angel she is?”

Judgement quirked an eyebrow. “Angel is a choice word, but yes.”

Intellitron turned his steely gaze on her. “You should know, Judith, my Tessa hasn’t furnished me with your full name. But such secrecy is purely notional. If you should ever hurt her, then there are depths to my dark creativity that I haven’t even begun to tap.”

Judgement worried slightly, but didn’t let it show. Instead she forced a smile.

“If anyone hurt her, sir, you’d have to race me to get to them,” she said coolly.

There was a tense pause, before Intellitron smiled. “I knew Tessa had good taste,” he said warmly. “It’s good to properly meet you, Judgement. Tessa always speaks highly of you.”

“Same of you, Mr Intellitron,” Judgment breathed a sigh of relief. “She’s always recommending we come here for a holiday. I’ve been hesitant because…”

“Because of meeting me. I understand. But you’re here today on business?”

Judgement suddenly remembered. “Oh! Yes! We’re tracking The Hand of Fate.”

“Big fish,” Intellitron admired. “Why?”

“Some future vision of an apocalypse. We only know The Hand is somehow involved.”

“I see,” he nodded, looking out at the horizon as he thought.

“Any tips?”

He looked her in the eye again. Or one of his eyes did. “Conspiracy Jeff should give the others what they need. If anyone knows, he will… If you can sift through his madness.”

“What do you know about The Hand of Fate? Especially him making villains.”

“Well,” he thought, one eye closed as he remembered. His robot eye was watching something else, even as his human eye reopened. “I recall that they convinced Annihilator to change their programming, they locked Winter Lord in that freezer, and that they’re supposedly the one who changed Bur to Boar on Boar-gular’s Villain Submission Form. The Hand’s been at work for quite a while, a few dozen in the past few decades… if rumours are to be believed.”

“So The Hand does create villains as well,” Judgement considered. “Lots of them. We only just realised that was even a possibility. Does that make him dangerous?”

“Maybe,” Intellitron shrugged. His robotic focus was still drifting, while maintaining organic eye contact. “These are dangerous waters, Judgement. You can never be sure what sharks are swimming through them with you.”

“No one knows about this mission. Just us and the police.”

Intellitron smirked. “The police mean well, but the secret is out. Someone will have called someone else, or told someone, or it’s in a report somewhere. Those with the will to find out will do so. And you can never be sure who’s watching.”

Without warning, he raised his robot arm, converted it into a cannon, and fired an energy blast over Judgement’s shoulder. She flinched, almost diving for cover, but turned as something behind her exploded.

A metal, flying object flickered in and out of visibility. Invisible, then not, then invisible again. It was a moot point anyway, as it was on fire and diving towards the fairground. Intellitron put a finger to his ear.

“14? Have someone go and retrieve the drone which just crash-landed in the log flume. At least it should be there if my aim was right. It must have been following our intrepid heroes. Also, look after the place. When the heroes go, I’m going with them.”

Judgement and Intellitron returned to the room below, as Justice Man was inspecting the art and Stealth Watcher looked to be on the edge of a breakdown speaking to Jeff. Seeing Intellitron turn up, he hurriedly ended the call and handed back the phone.

“He’s left the information in the old Greystoke Republic building. Says he has a whole dossier on The Hand of Fate. He also says the building’s an important part of the puzzle, whatever that means.”

“And what did Jeff ask for in return?” Intellitron wondered.

“I have to fit a satellite dish for him… But since he doesn’t have a TV, I‘m mildly concerned what it’s for.”

Intellitron waved reassuringly. “I wouldn’t worry. Jeff’s trustworthy… most of the time.”

Behind the heroes, Henchmen 7 and 10 dragged in the surveillance drone, pulling plastic lilies off it from the flume ride. Stealth Watcher clocked it, nodded in silent understanding, as Intellitron gestured for it to be moved to the lab.

* * *

The building Jeff sent them to was currently under renovations, blue tarps and scaffolding everywhere, the entire building having a face lift, but the work was currently on pause, funding issues apparently, so the heroes and the former villain let themselves in.

Following Jeff’s directions, they headed to the 5th floor and found a pot plant, one that Jeff had specifically left there. And there, behind it, was a manila folder.

The folder contained three bits of paper. Each had a single word on it. The first read “Hand”. The second read “Of”. The third read “Fate”. It was otherwise empty.

“God dammit, Jeff,” Intellitron cursed as he re-examined the papers.

“So, even the conspiracy nut has nothing on The Hand of Fate?” Judgement complained.

 “Does anyone else find that more suspicious?” said Stealth Watcher. “More suspicious than if he’d had reams of information on the guy?”

“This Jeff fellow might just be having a bad day?” Justice Man suggested.

“I doubt he’s ever had a good day,” Judgement folded her arms.

“Find anything else, Intellitron?” Stealth Watcher asked.

 “Nothing yet,” he murmured, his robot eye scanning in various wavelengths.

“Any idea on why this building was apparently important?” Judgement wondered.

“No clue about that either.” Intellitron turned to the group. “But I am accepting theories from the gallery. Any takers? What happened to this building anyway? Why is it being repaired?”

“Superhero fight,” Stealth Watcher recalled. “Omi and Cron were fighting against Annihilator and they trashed the place. I don’t know why that would be important to our search though.”

Realisation hit Judgement. Intellitron had had the same idea.

“Two heroes and a villain created by The Hand,” they said in unison.

“So, The Hand of Fate is pretty prolific,” Stealth Watcher guessed. “Is that what Jeff’s telling us? And, just to check, was anyone here created by The Hand?”

“No,” came the collective chorus from the others.

“And you’re sure this Conspiracy Jeff is trustworthy, Intellitron?” Judgement checked.

“Usually. But you’re right. It’s more suspicious that Jeff gave us nothing. Perhaps the building is the real clue?” He looked around, hoping the truth would jump out at them. He gave up. “Let’s get back to the lair… I mean the resort. I wouldn’t put it past Jeff to be using some new chemical for invisible ink, one I can’t detect… not that there would be any point if I couldn’t detect it.”

“Come on,” Stealth Watcher led them out.

A little defeated, the heroes and former villain wandered into the street.

As they did, a car pulled up. None of them gave it much notice, until the doors opened and seven people rushed out. Four were men in suits, obviously armed, and two were soldiers in full tactical gear. The last was a woman who, with just her expression, demeanour and attitude, was more intimidating than all the others combined, like a shark on legs.

She was narrow, thin like a blade, with bronze hair tied back in an incredibly tight bun. She was wearing a buttoned up black suit without a tie, and not a crease to be seen in the fabric. She looked to be in her mid-forties, with light crow’s feet, sharp thin lips and the slightest hint of makeup, rosy, blushed cheeks and the merest suggestion of blue eyeshadow. She walked in flat shoes, straight-backed like a post. She wasn’t even armed, not even with a pistol, but by the way her guards moved around her, she clearly didn’t need one.

The woman stepped forwards and Justice Man stepped to meet her casually. He was his usual proud self, charming smile and all, but there was a slyness to her. She looked him up and down like she was assessing his weak points and seeing every single one.

“Out of my way, Justice Man,” she ordered.

“Hello, miss. I’m sorry, but you don’t have any need to be here. This is superhero business,” Justice Man said politely, extending an arm to protect the scene. “Please, leave immediately.”

“Oh, I think I have every reason to be here,” she answered, her voice slithering.

The hero smiled at her. “My apologies then. May I ask who you are? Do you own this building?”

“That’s classified, not for you to know, Justice Man.”

“Ma’am, this is official superhero business. You’ll only get in the way.” He put a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back. Her entourage flinched, reaching for guns, but Intellitron’s robot eye flared to keep them in check.

The woman glared at Justice Man’s hand much like a snake would a mongoose. With venomous hatred.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” she disagreed, cracking a cruel smile. “This is our jurisdiction and you’ll just get in our way. And I think we’d both hate that, wouldn’t we, Justice Man. After all, Oak Lane is so pretty this time of year.” Her tone rang with threat and she watched his hand until it retreated.

But it didn’t.

Justice Man’s eyes widened, his face hardened. Storm clouds gathered on his brow. His hand moved until it grabbed her collar. His fist tightened, his knuckles white. The woman watched him cautiously, this clearly not what she’d expected to happen.

“Go ahead,” Justice Man snarled. “Use my real name.”

“I beg your pardon?” she glowered.

Justice Man glared back harder. “You heard me. Go ahead and use my name. I dare you. Use my name, go to my home, mess with my family. But know this. Once you’ve dealt that card, you can’t put it back. Because I’d do anything to protect them. And now I know what you look like. I know who you are. And you don’t want to see what I’d do if you hurt them again,” he roared through gritted teeth, his nose almost pressed to hers.

“At arms,” the woman muttered, though her men responded like it was a battle cry.

A robotic hand placed itself on Justice Man’s shoulder. The hero felt its cold touch and turned his head. He calmed down. He let go of her collar, the guns lowered, and he let the metal hand guide him away. As he moved, Intellitron filled the void. The woman was still stood there, growling like someone had insulted her.

“Damned savage,” she cursed, straightening her collar.

“Congrats. You made the big lug angry,” Intellitron said condescendingly, his voice like robotic velvet. “I worked my whole villainous career and never got him that cross.”

“It doesn’t-”

“You know, it’s funny,” he cut her off. “A long time ago, 15 years or so, the Defence Ultra Mobile Bureau kidnapped a kid. Weird, right? A government agency, kidnapping a little girl? Unbelievable.”

“It still doesn’t-”

“Now, Justice Man and I rescued her, of course,” he interrupted, “my first foray into do-gooding, as it turned out, but afterwards I decided to look into the Defence Ultra Mobile Bureau, or D.U.M.B., just in case. And do you know what I found? I discovered that no kidnapping had been sanctioned. Not a one. Not by the government and not by any agency. The kidnapping was entirely illegal. What are the odds? You’d never believe it,” he crooned.

Intellitron paused. She opened her mouth as he paused just long enough to not let her get a word in.

“But do you know what I do know?” he steamrolled over her. “I do know it was undertaken and ordered by the D.U.M.B leader, a certain up and coming government agent, one Miss Janice Cobalt. That’s you, isn’t it?” he stated with a gleefully vicious grin.

Miss Cobalt could only glare daggers back.

“Because that is interesting, isn’t it? And it occurs to me that the little girl, the one who was kidnapped, whoever she was, she would likely remember you, right? If she were to see you again, say, if you raided whatever address you mentioned to Justice Man just now, then that little girl would recognise you and be able to testify against you in court. She could get you locked up for the rest of your days for kidnapping. Isn’t that right, Miss Cobalt?”

“You think I’m afraid of some child, you blue skinned freak?” she smiled. “Do you think I’m scared of you?”

“No. But you should be. Because, yes, congratulations, you managed to get an ounce of genuine anger out of Justice Man. Like blood from a stone. But consider this.” He leaned in close, lowering to a harsh whisper. “I’m a man who brought this city to its knees on dozens of occasions, I’ve fought more heroes than you’ve had birthdays, and I, personally, don’t take kindly to people kidnapping kids. So, Miss Cobalt, do you really want to find out how much anger is in me?” he hissed, his eye glowing red.

Miss Cobalt remained still, not even sweating. She just glared into the glow of his red eye.

Then Intellitron smiled, and the anger was gone, his eye back to normal. “Now, we’ll be going,” he said, and turned to leave. Everyone else followed.

“Hey! You can’t just leave!” Cobalt yelled.

.“Goodbye, Miss Cobalt,” Intellitron called back.

Miss Cobalt was simply fuming. “You know this isn’t over. You’ll live to regret this!” she called after them.

“That’s something every villain ever has said, Miss Cobalt, Intellitron replied. “Consider what that means for your motives.”

And the heroes and villain walked away, until they were around a corner, when they all broke into a sprint.

* * *

Miss Cobalt continued to fume. With the heroes gone, she returned to base, but all that occupied her were those blasted supers. And that damned Intellitron. He’d trounced her. Again! It had been him that tipped the scales years ago with Justice Man’s daughter.

Not that she had been prepared for Justice Man today either, as it turned out.

“Note to self: Try not to put myself too close to Justice Man again. I misjudged how far I can push him,” she said into a dictaphone. She’d had to pull one out of the archives, but needs must.

She looked at her shoulder where Justice Man’s hand had been. He’d touched her. Urgh! She would have to burn this suit when this was over… well, maybe just the shirt and jacket. These were some of her favourite trousers.

“What’s the plan, Miss Cobalt, ma’am?” one of her braver underlings approached.

She glared in a way that would kill lesser men. “Did the team on the roof complete the scan? A 3D scan of whatever those fools found? That humiliating performance wasn’t for nothing?”

“Yes, ma’am. 100%”

“Then today wasn’t a total waste. Any clue where they’re going?”

“We’re not sure yet, ma’am. Should we dial back on surveillance?”

“No, no. They know we’re watching, and The Hand of Fate is the real prize. If we’re pursuing, it would be a shame to let them know we have the advantage.”

The underling tried to follow her tortuous logic but failed. He just nodded, accepted his orders, and returned to work. Around Miss Cobalt, tens, if not hundreds, of soldiers followed her every order. Strong, trained, loyal, they’d crawl across broken glass if she commanded.

And with Miss Cobalt, such a command was not unprecedented.

* * *

The tone as everyone returned to Intellitron Resorts was rather sombre. Stealth Watcher and Justice Man slipped away into a corner to talk, while Intellitron took the documents to a nearby computer to analyse them. Judgement, feeling vestigial, went over to Intellitron. She pulled up a chair, maybe a little too familiar, but sat and watched him work. Outside, they could hear the occasional pop of explosions as turrets blew up D.U.M.B. drones. The resort guests thought they were fireworks.

“So… What was all that about?” Judgement finally asked.

Intellitron spared her a glance but kept working. “You ever encounter the D.U.M.B.?”

“Once. Those DUMBies tried to capture me and Mechanism in the middle of a fight… They tried to vaporise her. Would have succeeded too if I wasn’t there,” Judgement said proudly.

Intellitron rewarded her with a smirk. Trying to win points, he thought to himself, protecting his niece. It was working.

“Yes, those creeps,” he confirmed. “And that lovely-” he ground the word like a cigar- “woman we just met was the D.U.M.B.’s leader, politician turned militia commander, Miss Janice Cobalt.”

“She seemed a piece of work,” Judgement judged. Correctly.

“Yes. She is,” Intellitron frowned. “The D.U.M.B. used to be an organisation to help the government combat superpowers. Founded in the wake of the Apocalypto Incident, they helped the government capture, or if needed, destroy supervillains. And I could honestly respect that, even as a supervillain myself.”

“Then what changed? Why take issue with us today? Aside from you, the rest of us are heroes, and you’re reformed.”

“Mostly,” Intellitron agreed. “But the D.U.M.B. went off grid decades ago. The last official account reported a change in leadership, with Cobalt taking charge. Not long after, they were reported going after heroes. Since then they’ve largely been ungoverned, and for the past fifteen years, essentially gone rogue. Well, I say rogue… You can never be sure with government agencies.”

“And Justice Man has a history with them too?”

“Me and him, yes.”

Judgement twiddled her thumbs a moment. “I’ve never seen Justice Man angry before,” she said simply, her tone between worry and fear.

Intellitron nodded slightly. Justice Man was a force of nature. A goofy force of nature, like a rain of frogs or a butter tsunami, but a force nonetheless. “I’ve rarely seen it myself,” he sympathised.

“What actually happened, between you two and Cobalt?” she asked, knowing she might not get an answer.

Intellitron gave a weighty sigh, still running programs as he talked. “15 years ago, the D.U.M.B. kidnapped Justice Man’s daughter, using her as bait. Bait for him. Justice Man came to me for help, his nemesis, because he was scared of bringing another hero against what was essentially a government agency. And I helped him that day because I thought it was rotten what they were doing, threatening a kid… I was a supervillain and I wouldn’t stoop so low! In the end, we saved her and went our separate ways, back to battling week to week. But we never forgot what they did. He couldn’t. A father never would.”

They looked over to Justice Man, huddled in a corner, cape wrapped around him like a comforter as Stealth Watcher brought them some tea.

“And now Cobalt’s hunting The Hand of Fate too?” Judgement said.

Intellitron looked at her curiously.

“What? Why else would they be following us?”

He smiled, then silently returned to his work.

“Any clues from Conspiracy Jeff?” Judgement prompted.

“Not that I can see. It’s three pages with three words. Not much else.”

“Not much? So there is something. Invisible ink? Some kind of code? Maybe some sort of a magic eye thing?” Judgement guessed.

“No,” Intellitron shook his head. “All good guesses, but no.”

“How about steganography?” Stealth Watcher suggested, approaching alongside Justice Man, who was sipping his tea gingerly.

“And that’s the ‘Not Much’,” Intellitron said glumly. He zoomed the screen in and focused on the word “Hand”, revealing the entire word to be made up of dozens of smaller words. Each one was also the word “Hand”.

“Oh. That’s useful,” Watcher grumbled.

“Indeed.”

Judgement looked on, considering whatever crazy was in Jeff’s head. It was a difficult headspace to reach, but not as far as she’d have liked. A light bulb went on. “If this Conspiracy Jeff is as mad as you say, have you checked the whole document?”

“What, the whole three words of it?”

“And the white space?”

Intellitron paused. He scanned the paper again. The scan revealed dozens of white words in the white space, written in white ink on white paper. And it wasn’t just the word Hand written over and over again.

“Huh. Jeff really has dialled up his crazy,” Intellitron admired. “Let’s see what he has to say.”

* * *

 Everyone sat around while Intellitron read, as 14 came in and got them drinks. As he greeted each hero, he grumbled a little when Justice Man failed to recognise him yet again.

After a while, Intellitron reappeared.

“Any news?” Judgement asked.

“Not much, actually,” Intellitron said with failing enthusiasm. “While Jeff has a good list of heroes and villains created by The Hand, as well as a list of suspected mole-people, it seems a sense of civil mindedness has caused him not to reveal any identities, secret or otherwise, nor has he mentioned times, places or methods. However, I have discovered that The Hand of Fate has helped create more supers than we knew, supers on both sides, by a factor of ten. I’d imagine most of them don't even know."

“No one in this room?” Judgement checked.

“No, none of us,” Intellitron appreciated the caution. “But, of note, it seems Jeff has some puzzle pieces he can’t place. Most are put down to mole-people, but a lot of them focus on the Greystoke Republic building.”

“He said the building was important,” recalled Stealth Watcher. “Any idea why?”

“I don’t know,” Intellitron shook his head. “I think Jeff knows. He’s just not telling.”

“He is nuts though,” Judgement debated. “How many people did he think were moles?”

“47, and one of them is in this room, but that’s not the point,” Intellitron pressed on. “There’s another secret somewhere in this, but not in this file. Not in the information he concealed using his most sophisticated method of concealment.”

“Not really sophisticated,” Judgement marked. “It was white ink on white paper.”

“Either way, it’s so secret that he didn’t hide it.”

Stealth Watcher put a hand to his chin. “Are we looking for something glaringly obvious then? Something only an idiot would think to check because it was so blatant?” He turned to Justice Man. “Hey, JM? If you were investigating a building, what would be the first thing you’d check?”

“Um…” Justice Man thought for a moment. “Where it was?”

“Well, we know that already,” Watcher said doubtfully.

“Um…” Justice Man thought again. “Who owns it? Maybe Jeff wants us to speak to them?”

Everyone else paused. It was such a mundane solution, but it had a ring of truth. So obvious, and yet you could see the D.U.M.B. overlooking it. It had to be the answer.

“So, who owns it?” Justice Man asked Intellitron.

Intellitron typed the address into his computer. “It belongs to a company; Mann Industries. It’s one of the personal holdings of one Justin S. Mann.” He turned a little smirk on Justice Man, as did everyone else.

Justice Man backed away hurriedly. “Oh no. If you’re going to see him, then I simply can’t come.” He backed towards the door.

“Why not?” Judgement teased.

“Oh… me and Justin. We’ve never got along. Besides, I’ve got a few things to do, if you don’t mind. I’ll be back afterwards,” he excused himself and left.

Intellitron, Stealth Watcher and Judgement all refrained from laughing, at least until he was gone. Justice Man was the best at fighting evil, but he couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

* * *

The rumours surrounding famed bachelor Justin Mann had started mere days after he first hit the front pages. A simple millionaire philanthropist, and a contributor to dozens of charities, Justin was the talk of the town, but there were always those who thought he was more. Some theorised he was actually the mild mannered, though “mild” was a bit of a stretch, alter ego of the legendary hero Justice Man.

Fortunately, no one believed it. How could they? The philanthropist millionaire, Justin Mann, a superhero? He didn’t have the time. On top of that, Justin always wore that cowboy hat, it was his signature, while the hero Justice Man was bald, which was hereditary. And there couldn’t be baldness under that cowboy hat. Not a chance. There was just no way they were the same person. The theories concerning them were viewed on the same level as stories of fluoride based mind control and UFOs flying overhead… both of which had happened in Hero City. But alien superheroes didn’t count.

Judgement, Stealth Watcher and Intellitron all made their way up to the roof of Mann Industries tower, Intellitron riding on a floating throne, Watcher using his grapple. They’d called ahead and made an appointment, so found the roof door unlocked, descending into the penthouse office.

The office was a large empty space with a single desk in the middle and windows on all sides. The windows were tinted and a green carpet strip ran between the lift and the desk. For anyone that had seen Cosmo Derringer’s office, a billionaire real-estate mogul, it was almost a point for point match. A precise match, except for one detail. Everything in Justin Mann’s office was bigger. The desk was bigger, the carpet lusher, even the logo on the desk was bolder, a desk so big there was a stepladder up to the chair behind it.

And for Intellitron and Judgement, who had both seen Cosmo’s office, it was very telling.

“Howdy!” someone greeted from somewhere behind the desk. They jumped down and jogged around, pulling a cowboy hat on. “What can I do you for, partners?” he said in a deeply unnatural southern drawl.

The heroes and ex-villain restrained laughter. The man was broad, almost triangular in body, clean shaven and bright eyed, though looked a little flushed as if he’d hurried to be here. He wasn’t wearing spandex, but instead a grey suit with a cowboy hat forced down to his ears.

 “Oh, hello… Justice Man,” Intellitron said, trying not to giggle.

“Oh, sir, I ain’t no Justice Man,” Justin said. “We’re nothing alike… partner,” he added to sustain the accent.

“My apologies. I misspoke,” Intellitron bid, dripping with irony. “We wanted to speak to you concerning a building you own downtown.”

“Which building would that be, partner?” he asked, insisting on using hard Ts.

“We don’t know the name,” Intellitron played his cards to his chest, “but it’s being refurbished. It was destroyed by Team Cronomi and Annihilator?”

“Oh, the Old Greystoke Building. That was quite a hootenanny.” Justin slapped his thigh and winced.

“Yes, that one,” Intellitron confirmed. “We were told it had some connection to The Hand of Fate. Have you heard of The Hand?”

“Don’t reckon I have,” Justin said. “But, if’n you’re looking for info on buildings, then I’m your guy.”

“Well… no. We’re not. We’re looking for info on The Hand of Fate,” Intellitron corrected.

“Partner…” Justin murmured.

There was an awkward silence.

After a moment, Justin recovered. “If you’re looking for this old polecat, perhaps I can help there too. What are you looking for?”

“Some connection between you and The Hand of Fate,” Stealth Watcher stepped forward.

“Oh, howdy, partner? We haven’t been introduced.” Justin extended a hand.

“Um… Stealth Watcher.” Watcher shook it, suddenly less sure who this man was.

“But you recognised Intellitron, Mr Mann?” Judgement smirked, joining the conversation.

“Well, this blue fella was on the news, weren’t he?” Justin stated, straining the accent to incredulity. “Years back, he was a mean old carpet bagger.”

“I don’t know if I should take offence to that,” Intellitron said.

“Anyway,” Watcher moved on, “Is there a connection between you and this Hand of Fate?”

“I don’t rightly know.” Justin marched back to his chair, clambered up the steps, and pushed a button on his desk. “Meredith? Do we have any files on a guy called Hand of Fate?”

The intercom crackled back. “No, Mr Mann.”

“Not even in our confidential files? The special interest properties?”

“I’ll just check, Mr Mann.”

Judgement looked at him in surprise. “You sell secret lairs?”

“Pardon, little lady?”

“Special interest properties. I know that’s code for secret lairs.”

He shrugged back. “I sell one or two. I’m usually beaten out by that rustler, Cosmo Derringer.” He shook his fist in the direction of Cosmo Tower, which was taller than his.

Meredith’s voice returned. “I’ve found no record of him, Mr Mann.”

“Oh, well. Thanks, Meredith.”

“My name is June-” Justin let go of the button.

“Sorry, fellows. I’ve no clue,” he shrugged at the trio.

“So why did Jeff send us here?” Intellitron wondered.

“If he sent us. We made a bit of a mental leap to get here,” Stealth Watcher tempered.

“Following a conspiracy theorist’s logic though…” Judgement disputed. She tapped a finger against her hand, getting back into the headspace. “Say, Justin Mann? Was there anything special about the Greystoke Republic building? Any conspiracies about it?”

“Well, it’s a personal favourite o’ mine,” Justin described. “I inherited it through a trust, but it’s the oldest holding I own. Most expensive too. The upkeep’s terrible. There’s plenty of ghost stories, especially as it’s now the second oldest property in the city.”

“The second?” Stealth Watcher queried.

“Yeah. The buildings in this town get knocked down and demolished like clockwork by super fights. But the old Greystoke Republic is the second oldest original site in town. Heck, even most of the city landmarks have been replaced over the years.”

“They do make good targets for villains,” Intellitron considered.

“What’s the oldest building?” Watcher asked.

“Not a building, per se, but an old sewage cistern,” Justin said. “And Cosmo Derringer’s owned it for 27 years, the varmint. His oldest property. He’s tried buying up the Greystoke Republic too, that monopoliser, but I won’t let him have it.” He spat and missed a spittoon.

A light went on in Stealth Watcher’s head. “Origin stories!” he muttered.

“Pardon, Stealth Watcher?” Intellitron asked.

“That’s what Jeff’s telling us. The biggest conspiracy, staring us in the face. We don’t think of it as one because we know it’s true.”

“What do you mean?”

“That Cosmo Derringer sells superhero real-estate!”

There was a moment of tense silence. It was full of quiet confusion.

“Yes. We know,” Intellitron said obviously. “All three of us have bought from him, I assume,” he turned to Judgement who nodded.

“I haven’t,” Justin piped up. Everyone ignored him.

“No, don’t you see. The Hand of Fate creates origin stories for heroes, right? And he first appeared around 27 years ago. But who was his first origin story?”

“I don’t…” Intellitron began. Then the pieces fell into place. “27 years ago. Cosmo’s owned the cistern for 27 years. The same time The Hand of Fate first appeared. It was the first lair Cosmo Derringer ever sold. The Hand of Fate was his first client!”

“And maybe Cosmo was The Hand’s first origin story,” Watcher affirmed.

“Perhaps he still lives there,” Judgement suggested.

“Mr Mann, do you have the address of this old cistern?” Intellitron asked the philanthropist.

“I can get that for you now, partner,” he said, still forcing the southern drawl.

“Hey, why don’t you join us?” Judgment asked, suppressing a smirk. “You’d love our friend Justice Man.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Justin excused himself. “I’m not a big fan of that Justice Man. Too bald.”

Stealth Watcher sighed. “Okay, enough is enough. You can drop the act, Justice Man. It’s just us here. You can trust us. We know it’s you.”

Justin looked puzzled. “I’ve no clue what you’re talking about, friends. I’m no Justice Man, no siree. I’m a busy-ness-man,” he said, stretching the pronunciation to its limits.

“Seriously?”

“Yep. And I wouldn’t even like to pretend to be him. Who knows who could be listening. Someone could overhear and get the wrong idea about me, Justin Mann.”

“Alright, alright,” Stealth Watcher let him off the hook. “If you can get us that address, we’ll see you around.”

“Here you go, partner,” Justin said, handing over a piece of paper with the address scrawled on it. It was also Justice Man’s handwriting.

“Thanks, partners,” he bid, and the heroes, and ex-villain, all left.

Once they were outside, they finally broke and laughed until they could hardly breathe, then headed for the cistern.

 * * *

In a classified location, Janice Cobalt was watching one of her security drones. She watched as the heroes, and ex-villain, left the building, heading off across the city.

“I want eyes on them, even if they detect this drone,” she ordered.

“Yes, ma’am,” a female underling answered.

“And what is the current location of Justice Man?”

“He’s still in that building, wearing that stupid cowboy hat,” she answered.

Miss Cobalt stopped and glared. “I didn’t ask about Justin Mann. I want to know where Justice Man is right this second!” She bore teeth as she snarled.

The underling opened her mouth to speak. Then closed it again. There didn’t seem to be a safe answer, but Cobalt’s eyes were drilling into her skull.

“Um… we lost track of him,” she said, lying like a parent explaining where the presents came from on Christmas.

“Then find him. Now. And did we bug the office?”

“Yes, ma’am. The heroes are heading for the Old Cistern. It’s a historic, if very gross, landmark. They believe it’s the hideout of The Hand of Fate.”

“Then ready a contingent and we’ll get there first. I’ll see this done myself.”

* * *

The heroes, and ex-villain, all regrouped at the entrance to the sewer systems, a wide tunnel where run-off flowed into a waterway. Justice Man joined them promptly, pointedly not explaining where he’d been.

“And are you sure you weren’t there?” Judgement asked him.

“I was not there, Judgement. I am aware of the rumours, but I am not Justin Mann nor have I ever been,” Justice Man said unconvincingly.

“And you never will be?”

“Yes.”

They decided to let it go, ready to head inside, when a quick headcount came up short. Stealth Watcher wasn’t there. He was a short distance away, on the phone, talking to someone.

“Alright. Thanks, darling. Love to Debra,” he said, the dark cloaked figure speaking like a valley girl. It was very disconcerting.

“What… was that?” Judgement said, almost afraid of what she’d just seen.

“Sorry,” Watcher said, switching his voice modulator back on. “I was just doing some sleuthing concerning Cosmo’s ownership of this place. Don’t worry, I was careful,” he answered Intellitron’s gaze. “I just wanted to see what information I could get on the cistern, but it’s not a registered property, not on the books, and not exactly a public attraction.”

“Perfect for a secret lair?”

“Oh, certainly.”

“Then let’s get in there,” Judgement proclaimed.

The tunnels of the old, mostly abandoned, sewer networks were exactly as pleasant as they sounded. Mildew, mould and worse covered most surfaces. But the tunnels were quiet, near abandoned, besides a few rats. The network was quite extensive, abandoned but vast, much of it falling into disrepair. Even so, some water still flowed, though in terms of content it was about as pleasant as the walls.

Between handkerchiefs and capes pressed to faces, trying to block out the smell, no one really talked. There wasn’t much to talk about anyway, even if the sticky air wasn’t keeping them silent.

Intellitron led the way, Justice Man following behind, Stealth Watcher and Judgement taking up the rear. Intellitron had a small display on his robot wrist, guiding them through the winding tunnels. Occasionally, a small ping made him raise an eyebrow. Justice Man looked up at each one, counting on his fingers.

“We’re almost there,” Intellitron whispered. No one knew why he was whispering.

“How many?” Justice Man answered him, muttering under his breath. “I lost count.”

“Twenty two. All around. All armed.”

“She thinks she has the drop on us?” Justice Man smirked.

“Oh, certainly, the prideful fool. Are the others ready?”

“Watcher will be. He’ll have spotted them by now. Not sure about the kid.”

“She’s good. She can keep up.”

“Good to know. The party’s about to start,” Justice Man quipped.

On cue, the sound of jackboots came from all around. Troopers in full combat gear emerged from between the pillars, each garbed in grey and green with D.U.M.B. printed across their chest. Each of them carried a modified machine-gun with a glowing power cell in the side. They formed into a curve ahead, half surrounding the heroes.

And at their centre was Cobalt, a glowing pistol in hand, and the look of a reaper in her eyes.

“Greetings, heroes… and Mr Intellitron,” she said with a sneer.

“Afternoon, Miss Cobalt,” Intellitron grinned. “Brave to face us in person, no?”

“Brave would be if I didn’t already have you outmatched and outgunned.”

“Do you? Because we’re not dead yet,” he observed.

“Captives are better than corpses,” she sneered. “So, do you surrender? I hope you don’t.”

“Um, no. I don’t think we do. Besides, you’ve already made your first mistake,” Intellitron marked.

“What? What mistake?”

“Talking. It’s fatal. I should know. Monologuing defeated me enough times,” he tutted.

Cobalt glared. “And how have I already lost by talking?”

“Because you’ve lost track of one of us already, haven’t you? There should be four of us?” He held up four robotic fingers.

She looked behind him. There were three heroes, four including him. No one missing.

“You’re… wrong?” Cobalt said, certain this was a trick but not sure how.

“Oh, I’m not wrong. I was lying. But you’re talking, which gave me time to do this.” He stepped forwards and raised his robot arm in its cannon formation.

Cobalt leapt back as the soldiers stepped forwards. They fired. Twenty energy bolts hurtled towards Intellitron, and hit his personal forcefield. With a crackle of light and Intellitron’s devilish grin, the bolts ricocheted straight back, scattering the troops. With their lines broken, Justice Man and Judgment took to the air, and Stealth Watcher melted into the shadows. Intellitron meanwhile turned and winked his bionic eye, rapid firing three stasis beams and locking three soldiers mid-step.

Justice Man charged a line like a bull against a matador, but this time the bull had the cape. In one sweep, and with a crack like a thunderclap, he knocked down five with a single punch. He then flipped his cape over his head, deflected two energy bolts, and rammed the attacking pair into a wall. Done.

Judgement flew away, leading a group of six down a side tunnel. Ahead was a dead end. She was like a sheep cornered by wolves… if the sheep had a flamethrower. The soldiers followed her in, she span in the air, planted her feet on the dead-end, and sprang back towards them. As she flew past their shoulders, she fired an energy blast into each of their backs, knocking them to the disgusting floor. As a final measure, she landed, gathered one final blast in her hands, and exploded it down the corridor. It swept up the soldiers and slammed them against the far wall, leaving them, if not unconscious, certainly wishing they were.

Stealth Watcher, meanwhile, was having fun. A troop of four came for him, but he slipped into shadow, cape around him, black on darkness. One trooper was stupid enough to move alone, so Watcher kicked him into some long forgotten sewage. When a pair came to check on him, Watcher went for the one by himself, appearing from nowhere and choking him out. When the pair came running back, something embedded in one’s weapon, the weapon exploded, and Watcher leapt out and planted a boot between someone’s eyes. Finally, with a spin kick, he knocked the last to the floor. He then retrieved and tied up the men, and rescued the one in the sewage. He was grateful, until Watcher punched him out cold.

The three heroes reformed on Intellitron and Cobalt. She and the ex-villain were staring each other down, her pistol raised and scorch marks all around. Now she was outnumbered. She weighed her options, lowered her gun, and holstered it, raising her hands in surrender.

“What’s the count?” Intellitron asked. “How many soldiers down?”

“I dunno,” Justice Man shrugged. “What do you think, Miss Cobalt?”

She glared at him. Then she smiled. “Not enough,” she said and leapt aside.

From an archway behind her, a man with the armour of half a tank clanked through. Leather and screws held it all together, each arm equipped with a massive energy cannon.

“Let me introduce you to the Ted Barry Mark II,” Miss Cobalt proclaimed. “Better than that loser The Hand tried to make, hey, Judgement?”

The armoured giant raised a cannon and fired.

Judgement leapt behind a pillar, the shot going wide. Stealth Watcher threw a throwing disk, but it bounced off the metal. Intellitron fired a stasis beam, but it ricocheted off a force-field. The armoured figure began to laugh, as he took dead aim at Stealth Watcher.

Then he froze. There was a clicking. Machinery whirred. Nothing happened.

“Um… Miss Cobalt?” came the muffled voice of the soldier. “I can’t move.”

“What?”

“I can’t move. Don’t know why.”

The heroes came out of hiding, as Justice Man stood before the tank man. A hand was on his temple, a purple aura creeping into the armour. Intellitron watched, an impressed smile creasing his face.

“Judgement?” the ex-villain beckoned.

“Yes?”

“Who was Ted Barry?” he asked.

“A guy The Hand of Fate tried to make into a supervillain ages ago. Used neurological control systems, cannons, cybernetics and stuff. Stolen villain tech.”

“And whose stolen tech was it?”

“It was… Intellitron tech,” Judgement realised, dredging it up from her memory.

Intellitron grinned. “A hero never forgets their nemesis’s designs,” he purred.

The purple of Justice Man’s telekinesis crept around the armour. It pulled screws, loosened bolts, and then, with a zap, yanked a large electronic chip from the back of the helmet. The armour fell off like snow off a mountain, leaving a man in his underwear and a vest. He looked embarrassed and scampered off.

“21, and that leaves you as 22, Miss Cobalt,” Intellitron bragged. “All accounted for.”

Miss Cobalt looked bloody furious. Justice Man faced her, staring her down with the coldest glare Intellitron had ever seen the hero give.

“My daughter still has nightmares about you,” Justice Man said simply.

Cobalt didn’t answer. Not with words anyway. She raised her pistol, straight at his forehead, and pulled the trigger.

The gun’s barrel twisted cartoonishly as Justice Man’s telekinesis seized it. The barrel bent, the handle crumpled, and Miss Cobalt had to move sharpish to pull her fingers clear. The battery on the side collapsed and exploded, the entire blast contained by Justice Man’s telekinesis. In a flash of blue, the gun was less than dust. Justice Man didn’t even blink.

“Cuffs, Stealth Watcher. Bring her with us,” Justice Man said levelly, walking past Cobalt. The rest of the heroes did too, as Watcher produced a pair of custom cuffs and locked Cobalt’s hands behind her back.

“You know,” Watcher began conversationally, pulling her along, “It seems like it was a mistake for you to come here alongside your men.”

“I wanted to see the lights in that Neanderthal’s eyes die, or at the least see him beaten and bloody,” Cobalt seethed. “I’d have settled for a gunshot wound.”

Watcher shot a sideways glance at her. “Ok, seriously? What is your beef with Justice Man?”

“The one that got away. The symptom, the sickness. Take your pick,” she hissed.

“What are you on about?”

“Justice Man is the symbol of you… superheroes.” She spat the word. “You caped, masked lunatics who wreck this city and think yourself above it all. Chaos incarnate. You’re given these supernatural gifts and you think they make you special? You can all go to hell.”

“You realise we’re trying to save people, right?” Judgement floated nearby. “When you came after me, years ago, I was trying to foil a villains plans. And you tried to murder her. Not exactly due process, law and order. We heroes help people.”

“For now you do,” Cobalt said witheringly. “You do, but only from the threats you brought upon us. Do you really think there’d be supervillains if there weren’t heroes to match them?”

“Chicken and egg,” Intellitron called from up ahead.

“Yes, but a chicken leads to an egg, which leads to another chicken,” Cobalt said, trying to sound ominous and failing. “Supervillains make superheroes, who make supervillains. An endless cycle of madness. And the world puts its faith in your accursed hands. The kind of people who wear spandex and fly around in masks. It’s sickening.”

“And they should put their faith in you instead?” Stealth Watcher doubted.

“I’m just the cure for you freaks. Without you, there’d be order. Wonderful order. Cops would stop criminals, federal forces would deal with worse, and there would be no need for freaks in spandex. No capes or masks. We’d be free of all the damage you cause.”

Judgement looked at her in confusion. “Look, I’ll give you that we cause a little collateral damage, but we help people. We save lives. I understand the D.U.M.B. going after supervillains, no offense, Intellitron-”

He gave a thumbs up from up ahead.

“-but going after heroes makes no sense to me. Sure, some villains are reactionary to heroes, but that doesn’t mean they’re our fault. And in the meantime, the amount of people saved, that I’ve personally saved, that Stealth Watcher has saved… That Justice Man has saved…” she emphasised. “How many lives have you ever saved, Miss Cobalt?”

Cobalt glared daggers and gave an icy smile. “For. Now,” she enunciated.

“What?”

“You’re all heroes for the moment, but what if you stop? What if you change? I saw anger in your friend Justice Man today. Ever wonder what he’s really capable of? What are any of you capable of? Why should we just leave the fate of the world in your hands without question?”

“What? You’re seriously scared heroes might turn evil?” said Judgement.

“Not scared, no, but someone has to do something. Before it happens again.”

“Again?”

“Burno, or should I say, The Torch,” Cobalt said sharply. “People died.”

Between the heroes, the air grew tense. Cobalt smiled victorious, as the heroes exchanged uncomfortable looks.

Except for Intellitron. Up ahead, Intellitron groaned.

“My god, people always talk about Burno, don’t they?” he complained. “Is that really what started you on your insane crusade? James bloody Crisper?” he cursed the name. “Seriously, what’s so special about The Torch anyway? He’s not even that good a villain. He kind of sucks. The last bank he robbed, he burned it down first, the idiot. And so what that he used to be a hero. Villains and heroes switch sides all the time. I mean, just look at me! Once, a terrible villain. Now, thanks to villain amnesty laws, ostensibly a good guy. Screw James ‘Burno Torch’ Crisper and his bloody sleazy smile to hell and back,” Intellitron finished with complete disdain for his former colleague.

“And ignorance, thy name is Intellitron,” Cobalt purred. “You really don’t know what Burno’s betrayal did, do you? How much it hurt the people? Burno was one of The League of Titans. He stopped the Apocalypto Incident. He was a legend. Then he fell. He burned down a bank and stole everything inside. And that rocked the intelligence community. Shook governments. Their saviour, a Titan who’d saved a city, fallen. That day, the world saw you heroes for what you were. Fallible. Just as susceptible to temptation, but with nothing that can stop you either. No oversight, no restraints. You’re like rich kids who think they rule the world, paying their way out of trouble. But a rich jerk can’t level a skyscraper singlehanded. And the worst part? You know it already. Why else do you hide your identities? To avoid culpability. You’re no better than criminals, using lawyers to slime their way through the legal system unharmed.”

“Or like you?” Judgement said, unmoved by her speech.

Cobalt smirked, exposing teeth. “I’ll admit, I enjoy my work, and I may have broken a few laws, but leaving the world in the hands of masked lunatics like you is a recipe for disaster.”

“Well, it’s about time we talked to an authority on the subject,” Intellitron called back as they entered a larger chamber, finally reaching their destination.

The Cistern was grand and strangely decorated, especially for a sewer. Apart from a plaque which listed it as a historic landmark, there were scented candles littered in mystical arrangements, a few air fresheners dangling off totems and skulls, while a ring of unscented candles surrounded a cashmere mat in the centre. With the adornments and a certain magical weight to the air, though that could have just been the humid odour, the chamber held all the grandeur of a cathedral.

“The Hand was the prize,” Cobalt grumbled. “If I could have taken him down, I’d stop the creation of so many supers.”

“Well, you failed,” Watcher stated. “Congratulations.”

In the circle, over the mat, the air started to crackle and writhe. Green lightning flashed, turning the candle flames emerald. A dark orb formed in the middle, like a black heat haze, its edges distorting as it took shape.

Floating in the circle was a cloaked figure. The robes flowed, almost overflowed, the tails hanging and the hood more like a tunnel, burying them in fabric. Golden bangles jingled unseen in the cloth, as fleeting hands appeared in the cavernous sleeves, young hands with smooth, tanned skinned contrasting long, ancient fingernails.

The figure floated to the floor and sat cross legged on the mat.

 “Are you The Hand of Fate?” Judgment stepped forwards.

“I am,” the robed form answered in an echoing whisper.

“You’re the one we seek?” Intellitron asked.

“If you seek The Hand of Fate, that is I,” the figure answered.

“Are you sure?” Stealth Watcher pressed.

“Yep. Pretty sure.”

“Oh, Hand of Fate, we seek your great wisdom,” Justice Man said reverently, falling to one knee.

“Please, speak, my child.”

“Oh, Hand of Fate,” Justice Man said again. “We have become aware of a terrible event coming our way. An apocalypse. A dreadful destruction.”

“You have?”

“Yes,” Justice Man said firmly. “A colleague of ours has seen it. The world on fire, the city in ruins, but we were told that you were the key to our salvation.”

“And who told you this?”

“Our colleague, Laser Lad, a time traveller who bore witness to a fleeting glimpse of the future. Please, oh, Hand of Fate, we implore you, tell us of this tragedy so we may avert it. Tell us, so we may save this city!” Justice Man said grandly, bowing in deep honour.

The Hand sat silently for a minute, as all the heroes waited with baited breath. The only sound was Miss Cobalt wriggling to get free. Finally, The Hand raised a finger.

“And… you’re certain about this?”

“Um… yes.” Justice Man stood up.

“Hold a moment,” the robed figure said. “Err… I mean, be patient while I commune with the spirits,” they corrected, voice vibrating deeply. They stood up and walked across the cistern, trying not to trip on their robes.

The Hand headed into a corner and started muttering to the air, with none of the heroes able to hear what was said. They glanced over their shoulder, then back to their muttering, then another glance at the heroes. Finally, after quite a bit of communing, The Hand tottered back and sat back in the circle.

“So?” Justice Man asked.

“My friend,” The Hand said in an echoing voice, “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“P-Pardon?”

“I don’t know,” The Hand repeated, dropping any drama.

“You don’t know?” Intellitron double checked.

“Apologies. The whole ‘Seeing the Future’ thing isn’t as straight forward as you’d think,” The Hand answered with a shrug. “Sorry.”

“What do you mean it’s ‘not straight forward’?” Judgement interrogated.

“Well, my future sight is based on visions from the spirits. I see what I see. It’s not like I can do requests. I see what I see and act accordingly. So… sorry about that.”

Justice Man shuffled closer. “But what about the coming catastrophe? We were told you were the key? The key to stopping some coming Armageddon!”

The Hand shrugged again, which was difficult to see beneath the mountains of robe. “Perhaps it is coming, but I can’t see it. I glimpse the future, I don’t live there. I mean, time travel isn’t really my jurisdiction.”

“I… Oh…” Justice Man deflated. “Do you at least have some advice?”

“Eat healthy and sleep well? Drink plenty of water? Other than that, I’ve got nothing,” The Hand admitted. “Honestly, this is all a bit of a cock-up on my part, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” Watcher snipped.

“Can you at least tell us if this future is happening?” Intellitron asked. “Like, is there a future past it? Any kind of future?”

The Hand thought for a moment, scratching their nose beneath their hood. They almost poked an eye out on a long nail. Justice Man knelt before them desperately, and thought he could hear the mystic figure talking to themself.

“So, what do we tell him,” The Hand murmured. “No, not that. Something more useful.”

“Who are you talking to?” the hero asked.

“No one!… I mean-” The Hand straightened up. “I mean, The Spirits!” the prophet said, voice booming. They extended their arms, summoning more lightning as the air whipped into a frenzy. “But hold! I see a vision! I see a barren land and a legion of heroes. I see them all united to face evil. And I see a dark force for them to fight. A dark serpent of endless power.”

“Dark Dragon?” Justice Man guessed.

“Should have known,” Stealth Watcher rolled his eyes.

“How about when it will happen? Or where?” Intellitron shouted over the gathering wind.

“I see a battlefield, not the ruins of Hero City. A place so desolate that life hasn’t taken root. You will face your adversary there, and one side will rise victorious. You shall decide. Now farewell, and good luck. Also, feel free to move in here. I don’t think I’m coming back. It smells terrible,” their voice echoed into the distance.

And The Hand vanished in a flash of light.

Stealth Watcher stepped forwards. “Is it me, or was that no help whatsoever?”

“Maybe The Hand is key later on?” Judgement hoped. “It might be years before this cataclysm actually happens for all we know.”

“At least in our lifetimes,” Justice Man nodded. “But I guess we’ll find… Where’s Cobalt?” He looked down at Stealth Watcher.

Stealth Watcher was holding a pair of empty handcuffs.

“What the hell!” the cowled hero blurted, spinning to see where she went. “I looked away for five seconds! She must have slipped out while The Hand was being all dramatic.”

“Intellitron? Can you track her location?” Justice Man asked.

“No,” the ex-villain said, looking at his arm display. “Wherever she went, I think she’s already topside. She’ll be in a car by now.” He patted Justice Man on the shoulder. “Sorry.”

“I… well… bugger,” Justice Man cursed, and gave up.

Justice Man sulked off, and gradually the rest of the heroes followed suit, climbing out of the wretched sewer, each looking for a bath. All in all, they felt it had been a bit of a wasted trip.

 * * *

Elsewhere, Laser Lad was laying on a couch, watching TV. Having been gone so long, his home was long since sold, his things lost or given away, and The League of Titans headquarters had long since been torn down. As such, he didn’t really have anywhere left to go. The police had put him up in a nice four star hotel until they could work out what to do with him.

He sat languidly in the luxurious apartment, staring through the TV into his thoughts. Thirty years. It was a lot to process, especially on his own. Outside, he had a police escort, which thankfully didn’t include Chief McElroy, but that was it. Not like he needed protecting.

Suddenly, Laser Lad’s ears prickled. His front door opened. A couple of voices chatted, and then the door closed again. He didn’t turn around. It was likely just another star-struck cop, coming for an autograph. Or McElroy again. Laser Lad, testing himself, listened to the tread of feet. There were three beats to every step. Heels and a cane?

“Hello there, Tod,” said a geriatric voice. He looked round and his eyes lit up with joy.

The woman before him was older than him, with dark wrinkled skin and silver fraying hair. A little pair of glasses perched on her nose, and her cane helped to support her, but not by much. There was an elegance to her that was very familiar. She also had a basket on her arm. But, even through age and out of costume, Laser Lad would never forget that voice.

“Chorus? Is that you?” he beamed, leaping over the couch to reach her.

“Yes, it’s me. I go by Melody Planker now, but yes,” she chuckled. “I see you’re as spry as ever, Tod. I’d have broken an ankle making that jump over the couch.”

“Well, I always was younger. I’ll be where you are in ten years. Or maybe more. I’ve no idea how old I am now,” Laser Lad chuckled. “Time travel, right?”

“Whatever the case, it’s good to have you back.” She hugged him, the little old lady only coming up to his ribs. He smiled. It used to be the other way round.

“You missed me?” he said affectionately.

“We all did. That fight with Dr Refracto… It was a terrible shock. You were just gone.”

“I really did walk into that one, made of light and fighting Dr Refracto,” Laser Lad conceded.

“Oh, we all make mistakes,” Melody soothed, guiding him back to the couch. They sat and relaxed for a moment, her old joints aching.

“So, how are the rest of the team?” he said excitedly. “People have been pretty cagey about telling me anything. I’m guessing it’s not good news.”

“Most of them are gone now, Tod. I won’t get into details, but most of them went peacefully. They’re not dead, just… retired. At home, with family, that sort of thing. A couple did die in battle, but that’s the life isn’t it? Battles and loss,” she sighed.

“And Burno?”

Melody nodded solemnly. “They told you that one, did they? Well yes. He’s still around.”

“I should have seen it coming,” he reprimanded himself. “He always was… I don’t know.”

“Troubled?” Melody guessed. “We thought we could teach him better, like we did you. But not everyone wants to learn. He certainly didn’t.”

Laser Lad sat back in his seat. “So much time, gone. 30 years, they told me. Dr Refracto’s lab isn’t even there anymore. There’s a park there now. That’s where I came back!”

“If I’d have known, I’d have been there to greet you,” she smiled.

“I know, I know,” he soothed. “So, you’re retired now? Is that nice?”

“It’s relaxing enough.”

“What about the sword?”

“Hung on my wall at home, and there it will stay. Until it’s needed.”

Laser Lad raised an eyebrow at her tone. His face relaxed as he understood. “You’re not just here for a social call, are you, Melody?”

“You always were a bright one... no pun intended,” she said. “Call it the worrywart in me, but I want to know about this catastrophe you’ve seen. The world on fire and such.”

Tod smiled. “Melody, don’t worry, I’m sure it won’t be for many years. And I saw some of those young heroes, ready to stop it. That… Justice Man, and that… Judgement Girl?” he struggled to remember their names.

“Well, Justice Man is reliable,” Melody accepted. “A bit of a fan of ours.”

“I never did give him that autograph,” Laser Lad realised quietly. His eyes drifted to the basket on Melody’s arm, full of fruit and other things. “For me?”

“A welcome home present. A bit cliché, I know, but I had to bring something.” She offered it.

“Thanks.” He took it and began to rifle through. He found something tucked into the side. “Huh. A newspaper?” He unfolded it and scanned the headlines.

“Yes, we still have newspapers, Tod. Not sure for how much longer, with all this online journalism, but we still have them.”

“And we will for a while longer,” Laser Lad confirmed. “It’s just come back to me, but I’m pretty sure I saw a newspaper during my glimpse of the apocalypse.”

“Anything as useful as a date?”

“Sorry, no.” Laser Lad shook his head. “I saw it from a distance. You know, cliché newspaper lying in the ruins during Armageddon, fearful headline on the front page. That sort of thing.”

“It’s always confused me in films how they had time to print the article before the end,” Melody considered.

“Yeah. And there was a smaller article about…” Laser Lad froze. Melody looked up and could see him turning pale.

“Tod? What’s the matter?”

“A smaller article about a parade in Hero City. A parade that was taking place the same day the article was published.”

“Wait… A parade?” The pieces fit together in Melody’s mind.

“The parade to celebrate Hero City prosperity…” He showed her the article that reported when and where the celebration would happen. “That’s the same day as the end of the world. It’s happening in a week!”

Melody stared at him for a moment, then, with her famously cool nerves, took a breath.

“I’ll call Justice Man. And then I’m going to make you some tea.”

Legacy of Chorus

Silence filled the empty apartment, a clock ticking nearly midnight. It was a massive, luxurious apartment, with multiple levels and a vast glass window which made up one wall. Outside, the night was still, and inside, the apartment complex was asleep.

Then Stealth Watcher crashed in through the window.

He thudded into an armchair, his dark, masked head slumped as his grey cape folded over his pitch-black outfit. He was followed by a grappling line, which punched into the ceiling, a feminine figure zipping up behind it. She landed in the apartment on heels, and threw the launcher to Stealth Watcher.

“You dropped this,” Lady Lock sneered. She was dressed in full ballroom finery, all the colours of the rainbow, accentuated with a black fur boa around her shoulders. Her “mask”, for want of a better word, was a massive pair of sunglasses, still worn at night. In her hand she held a gold sceptre tipped with a strange glowing stone.

She went to raise the sceptre, but a sound pricked her ears. With catlike grace, she dove aside as a third person hurtled into the apartment.

He was a brawny man with a shaved bald head, wearing a bold, bright costume, orange with a blue stripe down the middle. A large “J.M.” was written across his chest in big yellow letters and a blue cape hung down his back.

“I knew I shouldn’t have relied on that pig to deal with Justice Man!” Lady Lock hissed. Then she smiled. “But I know how to deal with you.” She raised the sceptre at him.

“You can’t hurt me. My cape is bulletproof,” Justice Man announced, hands on his hips.

“Oh,” she realised. “Then I won’t kill you.” She turned the sceptre on Stealth Watcher and its gem erupted in a cascade of emerald light.

“S.W!” Justice Man yelled, and leapt bodily into the energy’s path. He landed on top of Stealth Watcher as the beam surged over his back, his cape deflecting it. Lady Lock kept the torrent going, scorching the floor and walls around them.

Beneath Justice Man, Stealth Watcher stirred.

“Mommy?” he said dreamily, his voice altered to sound low and growly by his mask. He shook himself and returned to consciousness. “Justice Man? What’s going on?”

“Oh. The usual,” Justice Man groaned, sweating against the heat on his cape.

“Gotcha, big man,” Stealth Watcher said, his voice like gravel. He produced two discs from his belt, which were essentially blunted knives curved into S-shapes. He dropped out of the chair, crouched behind Justice Man, and threw the boomerangs out.

Lady Lock was enjoying herself, laughing manically. She didn’t see the two dark blades whizzing through the air, curve, and then swing back towards her.

Before they could land, something intercepted them. Two smoke bombs exploded, and sent the blades to the floor.

“Watch yourself, Lock,” Boar-gular warned, climbing in and tucking his bombs in a pocket. He was a tall, muscular man, stuffed into a skin-tight black catsuit, with a tactical belt hung around his waist. More notably, his face was covered by an ornate gold and silver pig mask.

“I don’t need your help, swine,” Lady Lock snarled.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Then you should pay more attention. Justice Man’s coming straight for you!” He pointed.

She turned, as Justice Man charged down the energy beam towards her, his cape draped over his head as a shield.

“Bugger!” she swore, and was tackled to the ground.

Behind Justice Man, Stealth Watcher came running. Boar-gular was ready though, and fists met fists as the two powerless combatants met in a display of martial arts mastery. Then Boar-gular produced a smoke bomb, threw it, and disappeared.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Stealth Watcher yelled, and tackled through the smoke. He made contact around Boar-gular’s midriff and they fell to the ground in a tussle.

Meanwhile, Justice Man had Lady Lock pinned. Like a sandwich, the layers went Justice Man, his cape, the sceptre, Lady Lock, and then the floor.

“Get off!” she yelled, and fired the sceptre. The blast launched Justice Man across the room, his cape still draped over his head like a blue ghost costume. He thudded into the wall, but landed perfectly on his feet, even if he couldn’t see where he was.

“You won’t stop me from stopping you stealing that,” Justice Man announced, only slightly stumbling on the words. “Let me try that again…”

“Work on the speech later, big man. She’s right in front of you!” Stealth Watcher called from his fracas.

“Thanks, S.W,” Justice Man stuck out a thumbs-up and blindly charged.

“Eep,” Lady Lock squeaked, as the bulky hero bared down on her. She raised the sceptre in a flinch of desperate self-defence.

The sceptre glowed and a bubble formed around the villainess, Justice Man bouncing off like he’d hit rubber. He pulled his cape away from his face to see what happened, as Lock opened her eyes.

“Ooo, fancy,” she cooed in delighted surprise. She glared at Justice Man like a cat would a mouse. “Now, back to you.”

Justice Man turned and covered himself with his cape again. Just in time, as she swung the sceptre and the bubble exploded in a wave of green fire.

“This little trinket really suits me, don’t you think?” she smiled, the sceptre’s stone glowing.

“I think it clashes,” Justice Man parried, and used his telekinesis. A purple aura surrounded Lock’s hand and aimed the blast out the window.

“Bugger twice!” She raised her shield again as Justice Man retaliated. He delivered an uppercut, lifting the bubble, and its occupant, into the air. Lock crashed against the far wall, bouncing like a human hamster ball. When it came to a stop, the bubble burst and she was deposited, disorientated and nauseous on the carpet.

Elsewhere, Boar-gular and Stealth Watcher continued to spar. Boar-gular was svelte, but he was more muscled, while Stealth Watcher was more wiry. But Stealth Watcher was faster, and kept getting hits in, even if one strike from his opponent would send him stumbling. That was if the strike could land.

Stealth Watcher leapt off a chair and did a full dropkick into Boar-gular’s chest. The hit winded the larger fighter and sent him skidding back into a chaise lounge. As the battle quieted for a minute, fighters panting, a sound emerged between the breaths. A gentle tapping as something descended the stairs.

“What in the world is all this racket?” an old voice croaked.

The speaker was a little old lady. She had wrinkled dark skin and such a sticklike frame that a light wind might knock her down. Her hair was grey, done up in curlers, and she was wearing a pink bathrobe and pinker pyjamas. She walked with a cane, tapping the stairs as she descended. Finally, she reached the bottom, and peered around with a face of annoyance.

“What have you done to my living room?” she complained.

“Miss, watch out!” Stealth Watcher called, but it was too late.

With a speed that belied his muscles, Boar-gular sprinted from his chair and neatly flipped behind her. He wrapped her in a headlock and glared at everyone else in the room.

“Weapons down, or the old lady gets snapped,” he threatened.

Stealth Watcher raised his hands, clear of his tool-belt. He also dropped the boomerang he’d been preparing.

“You two, chuckles,” Boar-gular nodded at Justice Man. “On the ground, face down.”

Justice Man complied, lying down, as Lady Lock got back to her feet.

“If you’d do the honours, Lady Lock?” Boar-gular suggested, nodding at Justice Man.

“With pleasure,” she smiled and took careful aim with her sceptre.

Boar-Gular grinned from cheek to cheek. “Good work, old lady,” he said in her ear. “None of this would have been possible without you.”

“Less of the old, you whippersnapper,” the old lady hissed, and swung her cane into his nose.

Boar-gular reeled back and let go, but the old lady wasn’t done. She turned and launched a barrage of strikes, whacking his arms, legs and head, and lastly a crack between his legs.

“Oof,” Boar-gular gasped, stumbling back. “What do you think you’re doing, you old-”

He never finished the insult, as she pulled the head of her cane and drew a sword from inside it. It glittered in the moonlight and she stared him down with a vicious glare.

“What the hell!” Boar-gular swore.

He retreated as she pursued, her rapier slicing the air. He stumbled back, and she threw the cane scabbard, embedding it in the floor like a javelin, precisely in the spot to trip him.

Boar-gular tripped and fell back, just in time to fall in front of Justice Man, as Lady Lock fired, Boar-gular taking the blast. Lock had really been milking the killing blow.

“Why?” Boar-gular complained to no one in particular as he lay smoking on the floor.

Lady Lock had just enough time to turn and see the approaching swordswoman. Before she could blast her though, one of Stealth Watcher’s boomerangs flew and shattered the sceptre in her hand. It fell to the ground in pieces as the old woman closed in.

“Bugger this!” Lady Lock turned and ran. She ran for the window, leapt onto the dangling grapple line, and slid out of view.

As Justice Man returned to his feet, he picked up Boar-gular to examine him. The thief was smouldering, but alive. He shook himself awake, threw another smoke bomb, and vanished out after Lady Lock. Justice Man stood coughing the smoke from his face.

“Don’t you need to go after them?” the old woman checked, replacing her sword in her cane.

“Well, all they stole was that sceptre, so I guess we’ve got that back,” Stealth Watcher said, collecting the fragments.

“We should make sure they’re brought in though, even if it is pretty late,” Justice Man yawned. “Of course, only once we’re sure you’re okay, Miss,” he added chivalrously.

“Oh, hush with that.” She waved a hand. “I’ve been through worse scrapes than this, trust me,” she dismissed, and walked over to turn on the lights.

The apartment took on new light, quite literally. White walls and soft grey carpets, the walls plastered with photos, certificates, and even news articles, all pinned up in decorative frames. Some had fallen down during the fight, and other items were slightly scorched, but nothing looked permanently damaged.

Stealth Watcher admired the walls, then turned to the little old woman. “I must say, I was surprised. You’re pretty formidable, ma’am,” he addressed respectfully.

“I’ve lived in this city all my life. You learn to survive or you don’t,” she said confidently. “Melody Planker, at your service.” She extended her non-cane hand.

“Umm… Stealth Watcher,” the hero returned, shaking her hand. He paused. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

“Oh. My. God!” Justice Man gasped from elsewhere in the room. They both turned to look.

Justice Man was stood before a large, wall-mounted display case. Inside was a classical, two-handed, bronze broadsword. The sword was double-edged, curved on both sides, and practically symmetrical other than the pommel, which was shaped like a raven’s head, a sapphire the size of a marble filling its eye socket. The sword’s guard resembled two wings stretching out either side, as spirals of carved vines twisted down the handle.

Justice Man stared at it, agape.

“Big man?” Stealth Watcher checked on him.

“You’re… You’re Chorus!” Justice Man cried excitedly, turning to face the old lady.

“Yes, yes,” she smiled. “Been a while since anyone’s called me that though.”

“You’re really Chorus? Then this… This must be The Sword of Songs? The real one!” he continued, giddy like a child.

“I did consider getting a replica made, but I just couldn’t part with it,” Melody reflected.

“And you’re really Chorus? The Chorus. Leader of the League of Titans. Wielder of the Sword of Songs. The Slayer of Dark Dragon!” Justice Man proclaimed. “I’m a huge fan,” he beamed, a grin stretching his face.

“Wait, really?” Watcher realised. “Oh wow. It is an honour, ma’am.”

“Oh, all of that was 40 years ago, at least,” she brushed off modestly. “I’ve been retired for a long time. And you two especially shouldn’t be fawning over me. I’ve heard of you both. Justice Man, one of the greatest heroes of this age. Super strength, flight, telekinesis, and a bulletproof cape. Plus, the heart you need to keep heroics on the straight and narrow,” she said affectionately, smiling like she was about to pinch his cheek.

“Hrrm,” Stealth Watcher cleared his throat, the voice modulator making it sound like a cave echoing.

“Oh, and Stealth Watcher,” Melody turned to him, cooing like a grandmother. “You might not have powers, but you’re unstoppable all the same. Your strength of will is unbreakable and your mind is sharp enough to keep up with even the very best supers.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Watcher accepted humbly.

“Tell you what,” she began, her keen eye glancing between them. “I get the feeling you two would love to talk to me, but you seem a bit busy at the moment.” She eyed the hole in her window. “Finish with those two hooligans, and tomorrow, around noon, you can come back here for some tea and a nice chat. How about that? You can come as either your real selves or your costumes. Whichever you feel more comfortable with.”

“Thank you so much, Miss Chorus,” Justice Man beamed excitedly. “I have so much I want to ask you.”

“Well, save it for tomorrow,” Melody suggested, a hint of nerves in her voice.

“Oh, I will, I will. Now, away, Stealth Watcher! We have villains to catch,” he announced, and flew out the window after the thieves.

Melody turned to Stealth Watcher.

“Umm… See you tomorrow… ma’am,” he stuttered, then followed Justice Man out the window.

* * *

Melody Planker put on the kettle, arranged a few cucumber sandwiches, and found some nice cookies to pile on a plate. She put the food on the table, along with cups, saucers and a pot of tea, just as there was a polite knock at the door.

She opened the door to quite a sight.

Two figures stood before her. One was clearly Justice Man, but wearing an ill-fitting trench coat and a fake moustache. The other was Stealth Watcher, his hood pulled up to conceal his mask.

“Ah, good to see you both. Come in, come in,” she bid them enter. “Did you two come up past my doorman like that?”

“Um… no. I came down via the roof,” Stealth Watcher explained, a little embarrassed.

“And I came in through the front door, for I am Justice Man, master of disguise!” Justice Man proclaimed, pulling off the trench coat, moustache and what appeared to be a fake nose.

Stealth Watcher rubbed the bridge of his nose and sidled closer to Melody.

“Please, just humour him. It’s literally the only truly stupid thing he does,” he whispered.

“Good thing I alerted my doorman to let you up,” she whispered back. She turned to Justice Man, like a teacher praising a drawing. “What a fantastic disguise, Justice Man. I should have known it was you. Now, would you two like to come in and have some tea?”

“Um…Y-yes please,” Justice Man answered nervously, recalling his manners. As they walked to the sofas, Stealth Watcher gave Melody a little thumbs up.

The three of them sat and Melody handed out sandwiches and tea. She soon joined them, offering little pieces of small talk about the weather and their general health. Stealth Watcher eventually noted the window. It was good as new.

“I have a guy,” Melody smirked. “The building owner knows about my past and is very good with maintenance. Super good, you might say.” She tapped her nose.

“Speaking of your past, do you mind?” Justice Man pointed to the many photos around the room.

“Oh, please, go ahead.” She sipped her tea. “I’m quite the sentimentalist when it comes to photos.”

Justice Man got up and began a slow lap of the room. Most were family photos, some vacation spots, but a fair few were of Chorus, back in her hero days.

Her super suit was a sleeveless, pearlescent-white leotard with a strip of black down the middle. Stark and stylish, her face was covered by a butterfly-themed, silver opera mask. She looked so young, her sleek hair tied back, and not a wrinkle to be seen. Her uncovered arms weren’t muscular, but in every shot she was lifting her massive sword one handed. And in a range of locales too. Beside the mayor, holding the key to the city, action shots caught in the middle of rescues, and the occasional charity event. She was smiling in every single one, even the dangerous ones.

“I always loved your costume,” Justice Man admired. “Bit of an inspiration for my own,” he added sheepishly, gesturing to the blue stripe down his chest.

Melody waved a hand modestly. “I can’t really take the credit. It came with the powers.”

“I’ve always been a fan of simple, classic designs myself,” Stealth Watcher agreed, his dark outfit almost fading into his own shadow.

“You would,” Justice Man rolled his eyes and continued looking. Finally, he stopped at one picture, almost in awe. “Is this them? The whole team? The League of Titans?!”

Melody nodded. “Yep. One of our few serious group shots. Someone was always pulling faces. Usually Indestructo.”

Justice Man stared in fascination at the photo. There were eight figures, all posing for the camera. In the centre was Chorus, her sword over her shoulder. Beside her on either side were Swoop, a young woman with a military bearing and a large pair of feathered wings protruding from her back, and Indestructo, a spry, muscular fellow, with a handlebar moustache protruding from under his orange and blue mask.

Beside them were Laser Lad and Mask Man, who were opposites in almost every way. Mask Man was dressed in a detective noir long coat, greased back black hair, with a golden masquerade mask covering his face. Laser Lad meanwhile was painted into a black, rainbow striped bodysuit, with only his youthful face visible, freckles and all.

Last there was Fist Puncher, Stop Watch and Burno, who bordered the picture. Stop Watch was a heavily muscled man in a purple jumpsuit, a clock on his chest, who was playfully wrestling Fist Puncher, a man with a prim moustache, bronze hair, wearing only dungarees and boxing gloves. On the far end, Burno stood away in his fire-decaled suit. He was leaning against a wall, glowering like a moody teenager. Because he was a moody teenager. He couldn’t have been older than 18.

“Bring that photo over here?” Melody suggested, after Justice Man had been staring in silence for a few minutes. He sparked to life and obeyed.

“What were they like?” he asked, hurrying over like a kid on Christmas.

“Oh, we got along like family.”

“Meaning you fought constantly?” Stealth Watcher joked.

“Well, yes. But I would have taken a bullet for any of them. And did, on occasion.”

“But what were they like?” Justice Man asked excitedly. “You hear so much gossip…”

“Well, what can I say that hasn’t been said,” she brushed off, then noticed how Justice Man was bouncing in his seat. She smiled a moment, and looked back to the photo. “Oh, if I must,” she gave in. “How to start… Oh! Mask Man. People always said I was the leader, but to be honest, Mask was our strategist. He wasn’t our strongest, but he was the sharpest. Quick as a whip.”

“Mask Man was so cool,” Justice Man swooned. “He could turn anything at all into a magically functional mask. Paper plates, sheets of newspaper, and on one memorable occasion, a live cat!”

“That’s correct,” Melody raised an eyebrow. “He adopted that cat afterwards, you know.”

“I take after him myself, a master of disguise,” Justice Man said proudly.

Stealth Watcher’s hand subtly pressed his mouth, struggling not to laugh. Melody had considerably more tact, not batting an eye.

“That you are, Justice Man, that you are,” she nodded politely, and returned the conversation to the photo. “Next, there was Swoop. My word, did she have a lot to prove?”

“Miss Planker?” Stealth Watcher raised his hand. “I’m not as researched on the League of Titans as my colleague here. What were Swoop’s powers again?”

“She had wings.”

“And?”

“Guns,” she said simply.

“Oh…”

Melody smiled at the photo again. “Vera really was a firecracker though. One of the few who never had a secret identity. A tough decision on her part.”

“I’d guess it was the wings,” Stealth Watcher considered. “Sticks out in a crowd.”

“Well, yes, but it was still her choice.”

“So… who’s next?” Justice Man pressed forwards.

“Next, there’s Laser Lad,” Melody grinned nostalgically. “The kid of the team, just thirteen when he joined us, but Tod was always so cheerful. Even when his powers weren’t great, he was there to help. And he definitely got better over the years. He started out barely able to make laser pointers and blind his enemies. By the end, he could turn his whole body into lasers for teleportation. And of course, “pew pew” sort of lasers.” She did finger guns. “He never lost that youthful cheer… Smiling to the end,” she sighed morosely.

“What actually happened to Laser Lad?” Justice Man queried.

“A prism related accident. Refracted himself. Now, it wasn’t the first time he’d done that, he usually came back pretty quick, but at this point he’s been missing for 18 years. He’s either hiding out somewhere, which I wouldn’t blame him for, or he’s gone. Poor kid.”

“Oh…” Justice Man said sadly.

Stealth Watcher saw the souring mood and hurried things along. “Who’s that next one? In the orange and blue? Kind of like you, big guy?” He nudged Justice Man.

Justice Man perked up a little.

Melody’s mood lifted too. “Ah, Indestructo. He could turn himself completely indestructible for a limited time. Of course, he couldn’t move once he was turned, and that timer was non-negotiable, so a lot of time was spent waiting for him to turn back. Even so, he did his best. I wielded him like a club once or twice, smashing our enemies. He was always good humoured about that, even that time I dropped him in a septic tank. Life and soul of the party, always making jokes. They weren’t good jokes, but we appreciated the effort.”

“Bit of an inspiration there, hey, J.M?” Stealth Watcher nudged Justice Man again, pointing at his similar colour scheme. The banter sounded odd through Watcher’s voice modulator.

Justice Man smiled. “You could say that,” he admitted sheepishly, admiring his own colours a moment. “Wish I could have met him…” he said quietly. His excitement soon returned and he pointed to the next one. “Then there was Fist Puncher. What was he like?”

“Tommy? Matter of fact. Stern. To the point. A truly honest man. Could always trust his opinion, even if I didn’t want to hear it,” Melody described, her tone weighty with respect.

“And what were his powers again?” Stealth Watcher asked.

“He was really good at punching things.”

“Oh, so magic fists or gloves, or super strength or something?”

“No,” she shook her head. “He was just really good at punching things.”

“Yep,” Justice Man agreed. “Like really, really good at punching things.”

“Huh,” Stealth Watcher said again.

“He’s still out there, working the rooftops,” Justice Man saluted.

“God bless him,” Melody sighed. “Mainly does signings nowadays.”

“I have three of them. I’ve almost the complete set,” Justice Man buzzed.

“Who’s next?” Melody pressed on before the inevitable could be asked

“Stop Watch, right?” Watcher mercifully asked. “He could slow down time, couldn’t he?”

“Oh, yes, a very useful power. He was like a brother to me.”

“Infuriating and constantly picking on you?” Watcher guessed.

“No, no. I picked on him. Boy, was that man dull,” Melody laughed reverently. “Always going on about train timetables and paint colours and his mediocre golf scores.”

“See, Stealth Watcher,” Justice Man lectured, “Stop Watch could slow down time by being boring. The more boring, the slower things went. Time flies when you’re having fun, after all. I heard he could also speed up time by being interesting?” he checked with Melody.

“In theory, but I never saw it,” she smirked. “A good man, but so very dull. He used to talk about his grandma’s knitting patterns, even around the barracks. Still, he was a very kind man and if you needed a long nap in a short time, he was always there, with a copy of Belgian Basket Weaving Monthly.”

“Then, last of course, there… was…. Burno,” Justice Man sputtered to a stop.

Melody’s mood darkened, but she hid it well. Even so, she couldn’t stop herself glaring at the Burno in the photo.

“The Torch,” Stealth Watcher stated coldly. Even he knew who Burno was.

“James Crisper,” Melody hissed, “or at least that’s the name he told us. He’d always been a kid from the wrong side of the tracks. When he joined us, we thought we could get him on the straight and narrow. A pyrokinetic who wanted to do good. But, one day, being good wasn’t good enough for him. He wanted money. He wanted fame. In the end, he settled for infamy, renamed himself The Torch and started burning down banks. Some say that was the end of the League of Titans, when he turned villain. The public suddenly saw we were fallible, corruptible even, and they lost faith in us. And that was that.”

“Some people never lost faith,” Justice Man assured.

“Of course.” Melody looked at him fondly. “I’m sure others were just like you, but sooner or later it had to end. And end it did. We all went our separate ways, those that were still here to do so anyway, and now here I am. Retired and with a life behind me. Maybe I’d have wanted a few more glory years, but I wouldn’t trade the time I’ve had, not for all the tea in China.”

She stopped, looking concernedly at everyone’s teacups.

“Stealth Watcher? You haven’t touched your tea?”

Stealth Watcher sat still, holding a full cup with an untouched sandwich beside it. He adjusted his mask, which covered his face from forehead to chin without a mouth hole.

“It’ll go cold,” she warned.

“I’m… fine,” Stealth Watcher said hesitantly. “I ate earlier.”

His stomach picked its moment and growled. Melody quirked an eyebrow.

“You don’t need to play brave with me, Stealth Watcher,” she marked. “When I said yesterday you could arrive in costume or not, I meant it. You can trust me on that. Plus, Stealth Watcher, I must say it’s a little hard to take you seriously with that voice modulator on. Good for scaring bad guys, but it sounds like you’re speaking through a tin cup.”

Stealth Watcher shrunk his head into his shoulders. They could feel him blushing, even through the mask.

Melody’s features softened. “If you’re really not comfortable sharing, then that’s fine too. I take it you and Justice Man haven’t told each other your identities yet, which is fair enough. Ultimately, I’ll leave the decision up to you.”

There was a tense silence as the heroes considered their options. Justice Man stared into his tea, looking for a change in topic amongst the leaves. Stealth Watcher sat in silence. It could have been brooding, or it could have been thinking. It was impossible to tell. Then, finally, with a little force and a little effort, he pulled his hood, cloak, and mask clean off.

The man beneath looked about fifteen, likely early twenties, with curly, strawberry-blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Justice Man stared in surprise at the baby faced man beside him.

“Hi, I’m… I’m Billy. No last name today, but I’m Billy,” he introduced himself, his voice high and awkward. He extended a hand, which Melody shook.

“No wonder you use the voice modulator,” Justice Man considered. All eyes turned on him.

“And you, Justice Man?” Melody prompted, though there was no pressure.

“I… I…” He looked between them, trying to work up the nerve.

His nerve failed.

“Sorry, I can’t. It’s not that I don’t trust you, Miss Chorus, and you know I trust you, S.W, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I just can’t cross that line,” he said stressfully, sipping his tea.

“That’s fine,” Melody assured. “The whole alter ego thing isn’t easy. Everyone has their own rules. Sometimes you wish you could be rid of it entirely. I recall a few months where I decided to give up being Melody Planker and just live as Chorus for a while. It all sounded easy, until I needed to go grocery shopping. Then it was a bit of a challenge.”

“I can imagine,” Billy laughed, his voice cracking. He turned to Justice Man. “And big man, there’s no need to explain. Just do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Thanks, S.W,” Justice Man answered. “And thank you, Miss Chorus… I mean, Miss Planker.”

“Please, just Melody. I think my identity’s been an open secret for a while now. I mean, I’m not exactly hiding it. My sword is hanging on my wall, for heaven’s sake!” she chuckled.

“The famous Sword of Songs,” Justice Man admired from afar. “Legend says it gives the strength of fifty men, makes you impervious to harm, and transforms your singing into a weapon. But only in your hands.” He turned back to Melody reverently.

Stealth Watcher raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because I heard Spell King once stole it along with your powers? He entranced an entire city block with his song before you stopped him.”

The two heroes looked at each other, and then turned to Melody, awaiting an explanation. Melody for her part grinned, but gave no answer.

“Melody? Where do your powers come from?” Stealth Watcher asked finally.

Melody’s smile widened. “Well, where do your powers come from?” she turned it around, looking at them both, playing like a cat.

“I don’t have powers,” Stealth Watcher said simply. “My skills come from when my Mum and Dad sent me to learn karate and accidentally hired a pair of ancient warrior monks who lived in the city. Apparently it happens all the time. I learned everything I know from them.”

“Lab accident when I was 9,” Justice Man said, just as casually. “I drank some chemicals off a desk that I shouldn’t have, then got hit by an experimental energy beam.”

“Wait, is that what happened to your cape?” Stealth Watcher turned to him. “I’ve always wondered about that?”

“No, actually. I bought my indestructible cape from an online auction.” Justice Man demonstrated the fabric. “It’s some leftover spandex from one of Indestructo’s suits. They made it indestructible, like him, then realised they couldn’t cut it, so they sold it. Got it for a steal.”

“Huh. Small world,” Melody considered.

“And that explains the garish blue,” S.W. murmured. “But, back on track, what about you, Melody?” he refocused. “Where do your powers really come from?”

She smiled again. She hadn’t been avoiding the question. She was just curious of her guests.

“My sword,” she answered dryly. “You were right about that much. The sword is the source of my powers, but my powers don’t work quite as you understand them. The sword doesn’t give me my powers. It…manifests my powers, from inside me.”

Justice Man and Stealth Watcher stared at her quizzically, but neither dared interrupt.

Melody continued. “The Sword of Songs doesn’t grant powers from nowhere. It takes a person’s inner strength, their willpower, their courage, their determination, and turns it into outer might. It takes those aspects we all hold so dear, and manifests them as superpowers. To be honest with you, I’ve always tried to keep that bit a secret. I don’t want any curious villains nicking it, or my teammates asking to have a go.”

“That’s interesting,” Stealth Watcher processed. “So, what were your powers again?”

“A mystical singing voice, used for sonic blasts or hypnotising people, super strength and speed, and being bulletproof,” Justice Man counted off on his fingers.

“Precisely,” Melody confirmed, “and I’ve thought long and hard on this, where my powers come from. The voice is obvious. When I was little, all I wanted to be was a singer. A pop star, opera, anything really, as long as I got to sing. And I worked so very hard, practicing every day. Then, one day, I got sick,” she recalled, melancholy seeping into her voice. “I got a fever, which became an infection, which became something worse. When I eventually came out the other side, I was deaf, some inflammation or other having robbed me of my hearing.”

“Oh no!” Stealth Watcher gasped, as if the tragedy was happening in front of him.

Melody waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s not as bad as all that,” she soothed. “The worst part was the irony. But they fitted me with a hearing aid long ago, so I can hear well enough. This one’s just the latest in a long line.” She demonstrated her ear where a small hearing aid was affixed. “But, even so, it was never quite the same. Things sounded different, and learning to sing again was rough. But I kept at it. I kept practicing. Kept singing. Kept auditioning. Then, when I was 14, I finally got my first show. I was at the back, singing backup vocals, dressed as a tree, but it was a start.”

“And the Sword turned that voice into a weapon?” Stealth Watcher analysed.

“I believe so,” she concurred. “I think the super strength is just my sheer determination, while the bullet proof skin… Well, do you know how many parts I was passed over for because I was too ‘urban’?” she said euphemistically.

Justice Man and Stealth Watcher sat awkwardly, with that little shuffle people do when they are aware of racial inequality, but feel powerless to stop it. It didn’t help that both of them were white as snow. Stealth Watcher cleared his throat, his voice squeaking.

“So, it would be different powers for different people?” he suspected.

Melody nodded. “Yes, it would.”

“I’m almost tempted to try,” he said to himself, looking at the sword on the wall.

“You’d better not,” she dissuaded with a smirk.

“I know, I know,” Watcher relented.

“And I don’t need that question answered,” Justice Man decided. “Still, you must have endless willpower to have as much strength as you did, Miss Planker. I mean, you managed to put down Dark Dragon himself!”

“That’s quite a legend to have,” Stealth Watcher agreed. “Say, is Dark Dragon really as scary as they say?”

“Yes. He is,” Melody confirmed, not a drop of humour in her voice.

“I’ve fought him too, S.W. He really is,” Justice Man concurred, a look of fear crossing his features.

“A monster,” Melody described, lost in dreadful memories. “Those horrible red eyes and that hissing, growling voice. He still haunts me some days. To fight him is to fight something… ancient. You can feel it. Just the sheer weight of his presence, pitch-black and bottomless like a well. And to think how that devil is back in the city after all these years, even after I saw him destroyed… It chills the blood.”

“Miss Melody?” Justice Man interjected. “Having faced Dark Dragon myself these past few years, I do have questions about him. Seeing as you were his official nemesis, and you defeated him forty years ago, I was hoping you might be able to answer some of them.”

“Ask away,” she said, her dread of Dark Dragon forgotten.

“Alright then. Firstly, where does Dark Dragon come from? What actually is he?” he asked. Beside him, Stealth Watcher leaned forwards, nibbling a sandwich.

“That’s quite the question,” Melody reflected, working on her response.

“Do you not know?” Stealth Watcher asked, trying not to spray crumbs.

Melody bobbed her head uncertainly. “There are too many stories of Dark Dragon, and not all of them can be true. However, some of them must be. Most speak of an ancient warrior, a being of terrible might. Some say he was a peasant, forced to fight. Some say he was a deposed nobleman, or a general in the ranks. Some say he was a ritual gone wrong, a thousand souls forced into the same body. But some say he truly is a demon, a fiend from some other realm. Most believe him human, or that he was at some point, though others believe he just has human hosts, possessing them completely. However, even with all the differing stories, they all tell a singular tale. A single story, in one way or another.”

Melody paused, sipping her tea, and watched as the heroes waited on the edge of their seats. She continued.

“The stories all tell of a warrior. A warrior who served a king. He battled with such savage might that no enemy could best him. His fury was so great, his strength so absolute, that he would leave the battlefield in ruin. And in his ceaseless rage, power was born, and this power only made him more fearsome. But so great did his power grow, even the king grew wary of him. He feared his champion, dreading if the Dragon should turn on him. And so, he attempted to eliminate him. Of course, the attempt failed, and his champion turned on him, tearing through his armies seeking revenge. He tore through his guards, through his palace, until finally, Dark Dragon tore through the king, seizing control of the lands. From his dark power, he raised an army of demons to serve as his legions, and ruled in cruel and brutal tyranny. That was until the first hero of Chorus, bearing the Sword of Songs, rose and conquered him. In single combat, The Dark Dragon was defeated, though with his dying breath he swore he would return. And with that, the people of the kingdom were freed,” she finished, then poured herself another cup of tea.

“Wait, what? You’re not the first Chorus?” Stealth Watcher queried.

“Oh, heavens no,” Melody smiled. “Every few centuries the sword chooses a new bearer, or some such nonsense. Not all of them have been called Chorus, but they were there. Heck, even the sword has gone by many names. The Bronze Blade, The Singing Sabre, The Golden Tune, Excalibur, The Great Blade of Harmony, Biggest Knife. And that’s just to name a few. Many bearers, many swords. A legacy.”

“All of them fighting Dark Dragon?” Justice Man asked.

“Some, but not all. At least I believe so,” Melody said, though she didn’t sound certain.

“So… Where does the sword come from?” Stealth Watcher asked the crucial question.

“Where indeed?” Melody answered. “Personally, I found the sword outside the city. I was out one day when I heard a strange song, low and gentle, but no one else seemed able to hear it. It was especially strange because I had my hearing aid turned off. When I followed the song, it led me out and into the mountains, where I found the sword, embedded in stone. I grabbed it and it gave me my powers. I was a superhero. I could finally help people. And it was only three weeks later Dark Dragon first appeared,” she recalled, voice tinted with suspicion. “Whatever the case, fighting that demon was my moment. The Moment,” she emphasised.

Stealth Watcher and Justice Man nodded sagely. Every hero knew about “The Moment”. It was each hero’s individual dawning, where they chose to be a hero. Where they dedicated themselves to protecting the innocent and the world. Every hero worth their salt had one.

“Mine was protecting a shop from some robbers,” Stealth Watcher disclosed. “Admittedly, it’s kind of spiralled out of control since then.”

Justice Man shrank in his seat. Almost every hero had one.

“I… just started fighting crime when I got my powers, because that’s what you do with powers,” the caped crusader admitted in a tiny voice. Then, like a counterbalance, he shot to his feet, hands on his hips and posing. “But Justice Man doesn’t question the why of justice. Only the how.”

Stealth Watcher met Melody’s silent gaze. With a roll of his eyes and a head shake, he communicated all that needed to be said.

He gets like this when he’s insecure, he explained without words.

Melody nodded subtly. Justice Man eventually realised what he was doing, looked sheepish, and sat back down.

Stealth Watcher patted his shoulder, and continued as if nothing had happened. “So, Melody, any idea where the sword originally comes from? Like, did that first Chorus forge it from mythical steel or something?”

“That is an interesting question,” Melody answered, her tone curious. Sensing something intriguing, Watcher and Justice Man sat forwards.

“Do you know where it comes from?” Justice Man checked.

“Well…” Melody hedged, but donned a sly expression. “It’s actually something I’ve spent many of my twilight years researching,” she explained. “I wielded these powers for years. Decades. But, gradually, I began to wonder; Why? Where had they come from? Why me? I never quite got those answers, but it was during one research trip that I learned of my fellow Chorus…es… What would the collective noun be? A Symphony? A Verse?”

“Ahem…” Watcher cleared his throat.

“Sorry. My fellow bearers of the sword,” she summarised. “Many of their adventures were recorded in history. You can find them if you look hard enough. As it turns out, many of them wondered the same thing. Why were we chosen? And by what? Well, a few of them looked inwards. They wrote of a power. Something they felt. They called it ‘The Choir’. It’s… a song, or a sound, or some… unknown force, but they all felt it within themselves. Guiding them. On reflection, I’d felt the same thing. A song in my head, a feeling upon certain tasks. Not mind control, or anything malicious like that, just a nudge. A tune that’s difficult to shake. I felt it when I first found the sword and I felt it when I faced Dark Dragon. Something... waiting.”

“And they made the sword? This ‘Choir’?” Stealth Watcher asked, his mind ticking over.

“Presumably,” Melody conceded with a shrug. “My predecessors wrote of The Choir as a force, or a celestial being, or a group of beings, maybe even a god or gods. In truth, I have no idea. All I know is that they’re the power behind the sword. The source behind my strength.”

She turned to look at the blade on the wall, eyeing it like a puzzle.

“But even then, my studies didn’t answer my questions. Why me? The Choir seem… benevolent,” She chose the word specifically. “They seem to want to help. My predecessors wrote of them being order and harmony, however, who can really say for sure. Some days, I think I still feel their guidance. Sometimes though, I feel it when I start researching them, as if they don’t want me looking. Then again, that might just be me, scared of finding something bad. Something I can’t unlearn.”

“Are you afraid of The Choir, Miss Chorus?” Justice Man asked sincerely.

“No, no,” Melody dismissed, her smile returning, a little strained. “It’s just not knowing that gets me. It’s like I’m a palaeontologist who found a tooth, and from that alone I described the entire shape of the animal. The number of legs, the arch of its back, the size of its tail. And then I found a footprint and realised it had hooves and was ten times the size. Only then did I realise how little I actually knew.” She glanced at the sword again, sipping her tea.

“Is that why you stopped hero work, Melody?” Stealth Watcher theorised.

Melody looked at him like he’d just quacked.

“Oh, heavens no. I was just getting old,” she chuckled. “I was fighting that Annihilator fellow when my back gave out. It was then I realised it was time to hang up the proverbial cape. To actually enjoy my retirement. Plus, how I got my powers doesn’t change how I use them. It doesn’t change who I was, or the choices I made. I decided to be a hero. My life was always my own, and neither The Choir nor Dark bloody Dragon can take that from me. I am, and always will be, Chorus. And also, Melody Planker.”

“Well, I for one am glad you were Chorus,” Justice Man complimented. “This ‘Choir’, whatever they are, truly picked the best of the best.”

“I’m with the big man,” Stealth Watcher concurred. “Couldn’t have picked better.”

“Well, aren’t you two sweet boys,” she grinned like a proud grandmother.

The conversation continued as they chatted about hero things, big and small. Current villains and their challenges, how to get stains out of superhero tights, the best ways to escape bindings, when it’s inappropriate to make a quip. Melody began to recount some old war stories, besting villains alongside her team, the struggles of the double life, as Justice Man sat in rapt awe.

Finally, lunch was turning into dinner, and Melody was looking tired. Justice Man and Stealth Watcher gathered their things and headed to leave.

“Billy,” Melody cut in, relishing using his real name. “Your mask?” She held it up.

“Oh, right!” the blonde-haired young man recalled, and hurried to disguise himself again. He was soon his dark, brooding self. “Thanks for reminding me,” his voice growled through the modulator.

“Thank you for the tea,” Justice Man said, giving an awkward bow.

“Come back anytime… not too often though,” she backpedalled slightly. “Please call ahead. We don’t want a repeat of last night. Oh!” Something occurred to her. “I never did ask? What happened with those ruffians you were fighting?”

“Oh, me and J.M tracked them to an abandoned warehouse. Managed to capture them and hand them over to the police,” Stealth Watcher explained.

“Ah, good to hear,” Melody nodded.

“Yep. And, considering the growing strength of the police, they shouldn’t be able to escape until at least tomorrow,” Justice Man promoted.

“Well, maybe today,” Stealth Watcher tempered.

“Yeah, if that,” Justice Man admitted. “Honestly, I’d be amazed if they’re still in custody now. Lady Lock’s superpower is picking any lock. I’d actually be surprised if they got her to the station.”

“Well, some things never change,” Melody considered. “Good day to you both, and a pleasure meeting you. I see that Hero City is in good hands.”

“Thank you, Miss Planker,” Justice Man bid, blushing.

“Goodbye, Melody,” Watcher echoed.

Then Melody closed the door, leaving them outside.

“What a nice lady,” Stealth Watcher said, growling through his modulator.

“She liked me best,” Justice Man bragged.

Stealth Watcher punched him in the arm. “Come on. We can leave via the roof.”

“You don’t want to go downstairs?”

“No. I am Stealth Watcher, emphasis on the Stealth. I don’t really do front doors.”

“Alright then. I can give you a lift anywhere you want to go. I’ll carry you in my arms?” he offered.

Stealth Watcher was silent. Then, in a little voice he said: “Thanks, big man.”

“It’s no problem.”

And they both headed up to the roof.

Downstairs, Melody stared at her sword. She thought of her powers. She thought of The Choir. In her inner eye, she tried to imagine the beings that would give her such a gift.

She frowned.