Dark Skies

"Berny!" cooed Blacklight, sauntering into the situation room. "I knew my cologne was magic. Honestly, you suits need to invent a new class. Necromancy and irresistibility put me way over King."

I faced him. "When you acquire either, I'll sign the papers myself. Until then, sit down. Quietly."

"Grouch," he grunted, nodding to the other four attendees seated around the room's glass table. "Ah. Chaos Crew. You guys still alive?"

Green raised an eyebrow. "Might wanna tack super perception to that new list, Chief. BL's on a roll."

I rolled my eyes while using a tablet to make some final adjustments to my presentation.

Blacklight nodded to Angela, currently standing against the far wall. "Morning, Ange. New mascara? God, it's like you get–"

"Zip."

Blacklight took the rebuff in stride. "Sunny as ever, I see. She really takes after you, Bern."

"You tend to have that effect," Green explained. "Ever heard of mouthwash?"

Blacklight frowned. "What's that squeaking noise?"

"Can you two shut yourselves up, or do I need to send someone to the corner?" Angela growled.

Blacklight and Green pointed at each other, then simultaneously said, "He does."

"Enough," groaned Red. "God, it's like listening to two chihuahuas bark each other up through a fence."

"Contrary to what Green and Blacklight appear to believe," I interjected, "this isn't a social visit. I wouldn't pull you five unless there were no other choice."

"Wait," Blacklight perked up, "does this mean–"

"You are not getting Boston."

"Fuck."

Green snorted. Red and Yellow burned glares his way, while Blue, as usual, sat noiselessly in his chair. He was the least vocal of the team. Even Blacklight's teasing dried up after realizing the man just didn't care to respond.

"Tape's been tight," I recentred, "but no one is an island. Especially at your step of the ladder. Tell me about Newark."

"The Target, right? Tight's an understatement." Green lounged back in his seat. "Nobody's croaking."

"Some kinda hit?" Blacklight ventured, then shrugged dismissively. "My contacts won't cough."

"Good." I tapped my watch, causing shutters to drop over the windows and sound-blocking tech to begin vibrating through the walls.

Everyone immediately straightened. Blacklight and Green swivelled to face the blinds in astonishment while the rest of the Committee sat forward with expressions of severity. Their matching silver costumes, distinguishable only by uniquely coloured eye pieces and shoulder plates made the joint readjustment look choreographed.

In truth, most of what the Committee did felt choreographed. I had nothing but pity for any sorry souls unfortunate enough to land in their crosshairs.

"This is intel is clearance level six. If that detail slips your mind, you can use the six-month break to remember."

Blacklight grinned. "Are break locations specified?"

I rubbed my eyes. "Say 'Boston' one more time. Try it."

"Fuck," he pouted.

Red looked worried. "Level six? The hell happened in Newark?"

I clicked my pointer, bringing up a picture of the destroyed Target.

"At approximately ten-fifteen PM last night, two unidentified Rogues broke into this store with intention to attack a teenage Alpha, Andre Church."

Blacklight snorted. "What are we here for, then? Can't you find the bodies yourselves?"

"Andre is dead."

Blacklight's easygoing, airy disposition evaporated. "What?"

"They killed him, and brutally at that. We still don't know for sure how it happened, but the damage was extreme. His clothes fused to his skin, bones functionally dissolved and his organs were warped to the point of... well, we don't know what's what."

Small fissures snaked through the table under Blacklight's fist. "Do we have names?"

"We don't even have faces," I admitted. "The cameras went down long before the aggressors stepped onto the street."

Red crossed his arms. "What do we know?"

"One was a poly, one was a brute. A thermal constituent was at play, though how and to what degree, we're still trying to understand."

"That's all?" Blacklight growled.

"No. My Droids recovered a damaged phone from the debris, which we sent to techs for recovery. And when I say damaged, that's a lowball. The thing's battery was cooked, screen shattered, and frame bowed outward from heat. Naturally, then, Lucas had it singing and cleaned out by nightfall."

"And...?" Green prodded.

"We have a voice recording," I said. "For the first time in documented history, this generation's addiction to phones was useful."

I pressed my clicker.

"Louis, listen. You're a great guy. Really. And if this was a different time in my life, maybe we could have worked out. But I just feel so caged by our relationship. You're a rapper, Louis. And not even good. I'm in school, where there are so many opportunities. I've missed out on so much being with you, and I just feel like it's time that I take time to explore myself and see... what the fuck? Tina! Who... oh, shit. RO–"

The sound of impact paired with a wet squelch cut the voice. It belonged to Monica Hunt, a twenty-year-old college junior. While not particularly notable, Monica had been well on her way to securing a nursing degree. Described as perky, hard-working and good-looking, it was no surprise she'd finally decided to cut ties with dead weight.

Unfortunately, Hunt would never get the chance to explore her newfound freedom, as the combat knife that punched seven inches into her left eye killed her instantly. The second thud was her body collapsing.

Her coworker, Eliza Gordon, presumably saw the whole thing and screamed. Her shriek was also interrupted as the attacking Rogue, likely the poly, connected. That knife hit the side of her neck, severing her spinal cord and briefly paralyzing her before death.

"Liza!" Andre yelled. The quality of the recording decreased after Hunt dropped her phone, but it conveyed his wrath perfectly.

Mayhem ensued. The recording occasionally crackled with what Lucas theorized was electromagnetic interference generated by Andre's wild gravitational attacks.

"It goes on for some time," I told the group, "until this."

The audio fast-forwarded three minutes. There was a crash and a grunt, then scrabbling as a felled combatant tried and failed to recover his footing.

"You won't get away with this," Andre wheezed, his strong, confident voice now weak and wet. We heard him spit. "If my dad doesn't rip you in half, SWORD will. Trust me. If it took you this long to beat me, what do you think Nova Prime will do to you? Blacklight? Cryo King?"

"You're not bad," a slimy, nasally voice replied. I'd already tagged it as the poly and had our people run exhaustive, web-wide searches. "Honestly, you almost had me back there. A little more training, and who knows?"

"Fuck you," spat Andre. "You want every Hero on the planet fighting over rights to bury you? Be my guest."

The poly snorted. "That is irrelevant. They can't stop us."

Andre laughed, though it was through pain. "You have no idea what you're in for. The King Alphas will eat you for breakfast."

"True," the poly replied. "That's what he's for."

Heavy footsteps thudded through the recording. The brute was moving. Andre's shuffling could be heard through the microphone as he fearfully tried to distance himself from the giant.

"What do you want?" he cried desperately.

Shifting combined with Andre's yelp indicated the brute had picked him up.

"My evolution."

The baritone of its voice was like a tractor from hell. Reverberating. Other-worldly. Low . Too low to be human. Debatable even for an Alpha. Like the haunting echo of an abyss.

Evil.

I ignored the chill rolling down my spine and forced myself to listen to the last part.

A sizzling followed by a windy, whistling hum grew before being overpowered by Andre's screams. Two seconds later, a pulse of energy fried the phone and ended the memo.

"Who were they?" Green demanded. His jokey tone had vanished.

"We don't know. But we need to find out, and we need to do so fast." I rubbed my forehead, then shut off the projector.

"Contrary to how it may look, Andre wasn't burned. The autopsy claims his body exhibited characteristics closer to terminal cases of marasmus. Like all the nutrients, heat and... life were torn out of his body. In fact, the back of his knees, elbows, armpits and fingers iced over by the time they got to the morgue."

Blacklight was seething. Literally. Smoke poured off his shoulders and began needling the ceiling with tiny, crystalline spikes.

"How do we kill them?" he snarled.

I paused to think. "By finding out who they are, the full reach of their powers and who they're sponsored by. As mentioned earlier, someone cooked the cameras preemptively. Keeping them down would've required a third party in continued attendance."

"Any actionable intel?" Blacklight asked.

"No. Not remotely. You'll have to pound the pavement with open ears. Whoever this... 'evolver' is," I made quotations with my fingers, "we need to stop him before he starts itching for his next fix. This stays quiet, lest some idiot street cleaners get cocky and march themselves to an early grave."

"It's just us?" Yellow asked, surprised.

I deactivated the sound block, allowing the door to swing open. "Not exactly."

Everyone immediately shot to their feet and offered deferential nods. Terry Church accepted them with one of his own as he stepped into the room.

"Dwarf, sir, it's an honour. My sincerest condolences," said Blacklight.

"Good to see you again, Mike," replied Black Dwarf, rolling his shoulders and adjusting his tie.

Church kept his promise. He wanted a seat at the table, but nothing more. He'd watch from behind combat lines.

Blacklight gave his hand a firm shake. "I can't begin to imagine what you're going through, sir."

"No, you can't," agreed Church. "But you're the best of the best, which means I know you'll find the criminals who did this and bring them to justice."

"Bring them to justice?" laughed Green. "Hell no. We're going to nail them to a fucking stake ."

"Fine by me." Church crossed his arms. "As long as you remember the difference."

Yellow's right eye twitched. "Difference, sir?"

"Between us and them. Why your contracts read 'Heroes' and not 'Tyrants'." Church swept the room with a severe look. "There's a rulebook. Believe me when I say there's nothing I'd like more than to step out that door and squeeze the system until the scum who executed my only child pop free. But I don't, because we have a responsibility.

"When you step outside, remember what you are. Some Rogues believe they're doing the right thing. That they're fighting for a noble cause. They think they're justified in their actions. But that's what makes them Rogues. The fact that they choose to choose. That is not our responsibility. We are neither judge nor jury. We are not the gun. We are not the chair. We're just the net." Church drew in a breath, stretching to his full height. "Don't make us regret choosing you."

"You won't." Blacklight met Church's eyes with steely determination. "We'll get them. For Andre."

Church's mouth twitched with a minuscule smile. "I know you will."

"Final order of business, then," I announced. "Red, sit-rep on the Breakers."

The Chaos Committee leader huffed a tired sigh and deflated into his seat. "Candy or crap?"

"Crap," I replied.

"Ergo is too strong. I've never seen anything like it. Blacklight may have been bullshitting earlier, but soon, we may actually have to create a new Class. We've been almost perpetually sieging their Keep, and he just... deflects us. Every time. The CAF blanket him with missiles while we tear into the front, and he just rips everything apart. All alone, no sweat. Were he anyone else, this mess would've been swept up by January."

I crossed my arms. "Scaled to Crimson?"

"Can't," Red snorted. "There is no comparison. He'd cut her in half."

There was no lost love between my mother and I, but her one constant was strength. She prioritized it over everything, including me. I'd never admit it out loud, but a large part of my work ethic came from her obsession to improve. People often asked if I ever wondered how my mother stayed at the top, and I'd always said no.

Power was her life.

So, to hear Red's definitive conclusion was jarring, to say the least, especially since Ergo had a near identical powerset—enhanced physiology and energy projection.

Shit , I groaned.

If this conflict lasted much longer, I'd have to enlist more Heroes. Which, considering the manpower I needed for this current mission, was a pinch.

Oh, what I wouldn't give for powers of my own.

"Candy?" I asked with a sigh.

"Civilians are clear. The rural areas were... harder to persuade, but we managed to push them south. As long as they stay contained, we can hold casualties to military and hostile."

"Good," I breathed. "Very good. Well done, Chaos."

The Committee nodded.

"Nova Prime is currently assigned to Titan, but once he wraps I'll send him north. Crimson and Novax, too. They should clean up shortly."

Red nodded. "That'll be a big help, thanks. But what about this?" He nodded to Dwarf. "We can't do much across the border."

"Blacklight will spearhead for now. Silver Shade can play in behind, and if push comes to shove, we can pull Fer and Cryo from Europe for the extra hands. Focus on crushing the Breakers. They've been lingering far too long. Canada's economy is already shit, even without the crazy terrorist cult. We let things get much worse and Congress will get fidgety."

"We don't like Congress getting fidgety," intoned Yellow severely.

"No," Blacklight agreed. "No, we do not."

"All good?" I asked, clapping my hands empathically. "Good. Now I need a sandwich."

Evo stepped out of the Hummer and stretched his legs. Even with all his enhancements, he still got sore after hours of immobility. He wondered if there was an Alpha with recovery powers he could target to amend that.

However, thanks to his massively superhuman physiology, two seconds of twisting was all he needed to return to optimal condition. EmCee-Two noticed and grumbled jealously.

"How are you the one who gets everything easy? I did the heavy lifting."

Evo faced him with a flat look.

"What?" squawked the multiplier. "Just saying. That kid was feral. Blowing the store apart like a possessed wrecking ball. I was the one who had to take him out."

Evo continued staring at him.

"Which, of course, is what I'm paid for," EmCee grumbled with rolling eyes. "Whatever. God. Stop looking at me like that. I'm not your dinner."

Evo briefly considered draining EmCee before concluding his powers were useless.

Their driver gunned the engine and spun the car to exit the farm. The two, on the other hand, strode toward it. On the left of the path lay a sweeping wheat field, stretching acres up to the edge of a dense forest. On the right sat the fences, built to hem in scores of cattle.

One of the cows, Maisie, trotted near the pair as they approached the farmhouse. Evo stopped to scratch the back of her ear, smiling as she nuzzled his palm. The fence, even at five feet high, only just reached his waist. He had no trouble leaning over and giving Maisie a light smack on the back, then turned to continue his stroll.

"Girlfriend?" EmCee joked.

Evo shifted his extensive frame to once again regard the Alpha.

"Never mind," EmCee grumbled. "God, I hope we meet a pig with a sense of humour. Maybe you'll pick it up."

EmCee was once again ignored by Evo, who instead advanced to clear all five porch steps in a single stride. He knocked thrice, then waited for the door to swing open.

"Evo!" cooed the middle-aged woman behind it. "I missed you, sweetheart!"

As Evo stood almost two feet taller, he had to bend over to accept her hug. "Hello, Mother. I hope you've been well."

"I have now," she grinned. "Oh, look at you. So handsome. Thank goodness you're okay. Come inside, dear. The casserole is cooling. Alistair, you too."

EmCee took an uncomfortable step back. "Uh, thanks, but I'll pass. Got a couple stops to make before I tuck in for the day. Nice seeing you, though, ma'am."

"You sure?" she asked, then gestured to the kitchen. "Dinner's just left the oven..."

"I appreciate it, really. But I should be going."

"Hmm." Mother didn't sound convinced. "At least take some leftovers. Hold on. I'll get you a Tupperware."

"Look, I–" EmCee started before shrivelling under Evo's glare, especially since it was now paired with a spike of gravitational pressure. "Shit! Take it easy, asshole!"

Mother turned. "I'm sorry?"

EmCee paled. "I...uh, would love some leftovers. Casserole sounds great."

"Fantastic!" she cheered gleefully. "I'll be right back."

She pranced off into the kitchen, then Evo turned back to EmCee. "Did you just call Mother an asshole?"

"What? No, fuckface, I called you an asshole. You almost crushed me."

Evo nodded sombrely. "Remember that, next time she offers you leftovers. Mother works very hard when she cooks. While no one can fault poor taste, rudeness is out of the question. Disrespect her efforts again and I'll disembowel you in front of your sister."

EmCee blinked up at the giant. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"There we go!" announced Mother, returning with a translucent container of food. Even with the top snapped shut, the two could smell the meaty, flavourful aroma of a fantastic dish.

"Looks good," EmCee told her honestly. "Thanks, Miss."

"You're more than welcome, dear. Be careful on your way home. Driving these roads at night can be dangerous."

EmCee nodded. "Will do. Take care." He glanced up at Evo. "You, on the other hand, you deranged psychopath, can find the nearest mirror and go fuck yourself. If I weren't being paid a Queen's ransom, I'd rip your throat out for even mentioning my sister."

"Alistair," Mother chided good-naturedly. "Don't be nasty. I'm sure Evo didn't mean it."

EmCee huffed indignantly before spinning on his heel and heading to the silver Maserati parked near one of the barns. He was tearing out of the farm seconds later.

"Evo, really. There's no reason to antagonize him," sighed Mother. "You know how things are with his sister."

"He shouldn't have said that about your cooking," Evo replied curtly, ducking to step inside.

Mother turned and crossed her arms. "Evo, dear, be kind. What if someone said that about one of your brothers, hmm?"

"I'd kill them," Evo said honestly.

"Yes, exactly. What do I always tell you?"

"Family is the most important thing in the world."

"Why?" she prodded, reaching up.

Evo leaned over to let her hands cup his cheeks. "Because family will always be there for you."

"Exactly. That's why we let him work with us. Because even if he's a little crass and... troubled, Alistair cares a great deal for his sister. In fact, how much of the money that he's robbed has gone to her and her children?"

Evo's brows knit as he took a seat at the dining table. "He shouldn't have said that about your cooking."

"Evo," Mother warned.

"Fine," Evo sighed. "I will apologize. Eventually."

"Evo ."

The giant grumbled. "I will apologize when the opportunity arises."

"Good boy." She patted his cheek affectionately. "I have a surprise for you."

Evo perked up. "Aside from casserole?"

"Yes," laughed Mother. "Aside from casserole. Tacti finished preparations. He'll be here for dinner."

"Really?" Evo replied, a wide smile on his lips. "That's great!"

"Isn't it?" she smiled. "Now eat up. Monty, Margaret, May and Molly all need brushing down tonight. They've been kicking and scratching to and fro all week."

"Yes, Mother," Evo sighed, accepting the fork from her.

Mother studied him, then ruffled his hair with an affectionate smile. "Cheer up, sweetie. When we finish our work, we'll be able to have a farm as big as we like. And you'll be able to see your brothers any day you want."

Evo nodded dutifully. "I understand, Mother."

"Of course you do," she cooed, pinching his cheek, then nodded to his plate. "Let me know if you want more pepper."

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