SIDE STORY – DOMINOES 3

“This is a really bad idea,” Cursor said, tugging on his costume. It wasn’t fitting right today. Maybe he was gaining weight. He frowned down at himself and looked up at the others. There were six of them in all, crooks, thieves, and lowlives who had made a small name for themselves as a team. They definitely didn’t rank anywhere near the title of supervillain, but they were somebody. Mostly thanks to my plans. If it weren’t for me, we wouldn’t have pulled off that job after getting a loan from Ishtar and the Styx. The others didn’t read the contract, but I did. That shit is scary.

“Are you serious?” Redd said, his blood-colored suit and gear giving off a sickly slimy look beneath the lights above them. “He’s alone.”

“And?” Cursor demanded. “He’s with-”

Redd stormed towards him and put a finger in his face. “Listen, the bounty that just went out on this guy is right up there with a fuckin’ international hero.” Redd raised another finger. “He’s alone.” He raised a third. “And he’s a support hero. He can’t fight worth shit!”

Cursor scowled. “As far as you know.”

Redd barked out a laugh. “Lookit this guy. What happened to wanting to go ‘super’?”

“By doing heists! What we’re good at!” Cursor argued. “Not trying to kill one of the invincible boy scout's sidekicks! That seems like a fast ticket to an early grave to me!”

Redd clicked his tongue and turned to the others. “Majority vote then. We heard your points. If we vote to go in, we go in, got it?” Redd said.

Since when do Villains vote on shit? Cursor grumbled inwardly but conceded the point. If he ditched on a job like this and it actually paid out, then the others would kick him to the curb regardless of how much his planning had helped them. “Fine.”

Redd put his hands on his hips. “Hands for?”

All four of the others raised their hands. Cursor sighed. I guess we’re doing this. I know Redd’s right about this guy, but my gut is screaming danger. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Alright, we know he’s alone. Are there any heroes watching the cemetery?”

Spoof, their group’s pseudo-technopath, pulled his goggles down and frowned for a moment. He twitched and jerked before pulling them back up. “Nobody. Hero patrols aren’t bad either. We should have a window in about an hour.”

He nodded. “And the target?”

“Still at the grave,” Spoof said. “Standin’ there like a goon and staring at it.”

Cursor ran his fingers through his hair before nodding. “Alright. If we’re doin’ this, we’re doin’ it right. Spoof, your drones are on full auto. I don’t give a shit if we tear up the graveyard a little, kill the brat with maximum prejudice. Coco, keep him off his feet. Sai, don’t let him run,” he looked to the last member of their group. A man with stone skin and an almost empty gaze. “Bruno?”

“Uh?”

“Smash.”

“Uh.”

He turned to Redd with a frown. “Happy? Let’s get to the van.”

Redd was only too happy to lead him and the others out of the small hideout they’d picked in Nashville and hopped into the driver's seat. They took the short trip from there, following the roads that Spoof picked to avoid any possibility of crossing paths with patrols. It wasn’t hard to figure out; their routes were basically public information. Using half a brain cell and watching when activity dipped and rose, you could even figure out where the heroes usually stopped to rest.

Thanks to that, the van pulled up at the edge of the cemetery without issue. The side door opened, and Spoof’s drones poured out - overhauled camera models with automatic weapons slapped on. The only thing setting them apart from a hobbyist’s kit was the post-Pandora ammunition loaded inside. They hurried across the open stretch of land. Cursor hated being this exposed, but now wasn’t the time for subtlety. They’d do the job and get the hell out. Redd raised a hand and they slid to a stop.

He really was just standing there.

The sole thin figure loomed over a recently set gravestone. A colorful shawl hung around his neck, and brown hair fluttered in a growing wind. The others took steps forward, abilities activating. Cursor raised his hand to point and… froze. He felt something tug inside of him, an odd feeling that seemed to draw his attention away. He narrowed his eyes and glanced towards the others. None of them were moving. The feeling was familiar, like someone he knew. Redd?

THOK!

He looked down at his waist, a hole, a hand, and blood. “W-what? R-redd? Why?” he croaked as he slid off the man’s arm.

BANG BANG BANG! POPPOPPOPPOPTT!

He crumbled and looked up as the drones opened fire. On him, on the others, every living thing but the kid standing at the grave. Bodies started dropping. He rolled onto his side as a pair of shiny shoes stopped right in front of his face. He looked up into a cruel smile, a single stream of tears running down the side of a hauntingly joyous face. Riot raised his hand and showed off a metal glove. “Makes ‘em invisible. Wasn’t that a nice gift? Craftsman is a good guy.”

Cursor's eyes went wide. “M-mons-”

Riot’s face twisted with hate. He snarled and whipped his hand down. “No, I’m not!”

The last thing Cursor knew was pain, a pain that would last even in the afterlife.

–

She snapped the book shut with a satisfied smile, making a few final notes before setting the latest notebook aside. She hadn’t told Sonya yet, but she had managed to figure out the perfect name. It was a little on the nose when one considered the origin and obviously an attempt to make them sound more related, but she honestly didn’t mind it. It was strange, but recently she had begun noticing she had more of a sense of humor these days. She had been feeling a little lethargic after Sonya started sleeping again, and she hadn’t missed Sonya becoming a little unfocused during that time.

Now, she was as sharp as a tack. It felt good.

She got to her feet and arranged the notebooks. There were piles of them. She had a lot of catching up to do after becoming an individual. Hundreds of books were read, several papers written and even published with the help of the shade Amos left behind in the ship. She tried all sorts of things. She went to the theatre at nights and watched those animated series that Marta adored so much. At first she found them a little pedantic, but it turned out Marta was on a binge of shows tailored for younger audiences.

That show about the doctor and the serial killer was marvelous, she thought absently as she walked over to Sonya’s desk. She sat down and leaned back in the chair, tapping a few keys and staring at the screen. Camera footage appeared on the screen, multiple recordings playing in four windows. She poured herself a glass of bourbon. 

This was what she did when she wasn’t playing catch-up. Watching all of the footage of Otis that had been collected from various sources: Sonya’s visual recordings, recordings within the East Guild Hall, and any other camera that didn’t fizzle out when he passed it by. All trimmed down for moments when he was visible. There was still another four or five hours of footage to watch before she was finally up to date.

That feature isn’t passive, she thought absently and took down a few more notes. There he is walking past the mess hall again. I don’t have any recordings of him eating unless it's at an upscale restaurant. She frowned and rubbed her chin. His body needs more calories than that, though. I’ve never seen him or any of his teammates bring food into their team office either.

She underlined a note from the other day. Produces his own food.

The air shimmered to her left, and she glanced up, expecting to see Sonya step out. Instead, it was a male figure with black-metal skin and a skull-like face. Her immediate instinct was to hop to her feet, but when her eyes settled on the tattered lab-coat tucked underneath his arm, she hazarded a guess. “That’s an interesting look, Doctor.”

Amos glanced her way with raised eyebrows. “Huh?” he blinked and looked down at himself. “Ah shit, I forgot to switch back. Sorry for the scare!”

She shrugged and turned back to the computer. “It’s fine, did it go well?”

“We’ll be able to set up portals for Ozzie no problem. I’ve got enough of a handle on that place to deal with it. Freaky ass place, though. I’ve got words for Sonya. She woefully understated how dangerous it is,” Amos grumbled. He crossed his arms. “Euclidia made it.”

“Did she?” she asked, clicking another video to open it. It was Otis walking into a store of some kind, but the sign was barely out of view.

“Yeah, I dealt with it. She’ll be out of commission for a week or so, probably,” he said and walked over. “Either way, we have our head start. Finished those bullets, by the way.”

He set a gun down next to her, and she stared at it. Something about it made her skin crawl. Her lips turned down into a deep frown. “...The seeds Titania left in Sonya’s body.”

“Yep,” Amos said. “I have a culture growing just one plant to replenish them, so make sure Sonya doesn’t- Oh, hey! That’s ‘Way-Back’! I’ve walked by there but never been inside!”

Ishtar looked up at him. “Way-Back?”

“It’s a closed-door, vintage, video-game store. You need an invitation to even get in, super gatekeepy. They sell a lot of really rare stuff,” he said. “Their customers bleed in pixels.” He snorted. “Huh! Maybe I can get in now. I am all data.”

She looked back at the screen and started scribbling notes furiously as she pulled up other footage. Amos leaned in next to her and squinted at the screen. “Wait… who are we watching?”

“Otis.”

–

Back in Shanghai, Sonya sipped at her soda and grinned, looking out the window of the Hotel room over the city. Behind her, Carla was getting changed into some pajamas. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled as the notification came in that Amos was home safe and sound.

“I want you to stay safe tomorrow,” she said. “But try not to miss the fireworks.”

Carla raised her eyebrow and shook her head with a chuckle. “You really know how to make work for me, darling.”

Sonya laughed. “Like I told Lillian. Gotta make noise for all the rats to come out.” She turned back to the window and sipped her drink again. “That’s right, come and get me. I’m waiting.”