Chapter 28

THE DIE IS CAST

Hours later, the team sat around a display of digitized notes and images projected across the holo.

Each had finished their assignments, passing intel to Talia, who swiftly collated it into what they saw now: videos, images, and notes, all connected by glowing lines.

To Alexander, it looked like a spider web.

“…and so, having concluded my analysis,” Talia said, her tone sharp, “I am certain of the following. First, there are four members of this supervillain group. Second, they are operating out of this region—”

She gestured at a fragmented section of the map showing Argentum’s southwest. At its center was an inverted T of highways, freeways, and interstate connections. Around it sprawled a mixture of residential and shopping districts.

“—based on the spread of the attacks, with only a few dismissed sightings and no incidents in this central corridor.”

She glanced at the others to make sure they were following, then continued. “Finally, there is a pattern to both the frequency and timing of the attacks.”

“Incredible work, Talia,” Alexander said, studying the glowing web.

Augustus nodded. “It really is impressive how you’ve turned everything we gathered into something actionable in so little time.”

Alexander noticed Talia stiffen out of the corner of his eye. Oh? Not so good with compliments.

“When is the next attack supposed to be?” he asked.

“In approximately thirty-seven hours,” she said. “Likely around four p.m., given their taste for daylight chaos. But it’s just my best guess.”

Alexander shared a glance with Augustus.

“That isn’t much time,” he said. “Location?”

Talia shrugged, then drew a rough circle around the area she had just indicated. “Somewhere along this ring, give or take. I couldn’t discern a pattern for where they strike. What is clear is they’re collecting corpses, along with jewelry, gold, artwork, and other high-value items.”

“What about the villains themselves?” Augustus asked, his voice steady.

Talia swiped the holo, bringing up recordings and photos.

“I cannot decide which is the worst,” she said tightly. “So let’s start with the wannabe necromancer.”

She tapped a recording, then froze it at a moment of horror.

“Mercy to the Grave. Once a nurse at Argentum General. She was known to have a minor healing ability, slow and unfocused.”

Talia inhaled, steadying herself.

“The truth is far more sinister. Her power is exceptional. She can heal almost any wound or illness. It exhausts her, but she could have been a boon to any hospital or superhero team.”

“Instead she twists it into something perverse,” Augustus muttered.

“Indeed. She manipulates life-energy. Perhaps the soul itself. Without clearer information, we can only make assumptions, but it appears she can rip it out of a person, causing immediate death. Flesh, muscles, tendons, and organs begin to rot and slough away within seconds.”

Alexander shook his head. “And then she shoves that soul back into a skeleton, holds it together, and controls it somehow.”

Talia nodded. “She also seems able to convert the recently dead, though how is unclear. She may be splitting fragments from those she’s consumed.”

The front door opened and shut with a muted thud before Annie wandered in.

“How’d it go?” Augustus asked.

Annie collapsed face-first onto the sofa. “I don’t want to talk about it… she’s probably fine, though,” she mumbled into the cushions.

Alexander studied her. She looked physically fine, but shaken. He didn’t press.

She’ll share when she’s ready.

He nodded at Talia to continue. She swiped to another recording.

“This one calls herself Pandora Hex,” Talia said, shaking her head. “She seems to have a single power, though it is versatile. She makes things explode. There are recordings of her using it on people, causing limbs or just the touched areas to detonate.”

Alexander paused the video before they all had to see it again.

“She prefers to use candy. She carries pockets of it. But she can use anything; that’s how Iron Nadya was injured so badly.”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on NovelBin, not stolen versions.

Annie sat up, drawn into the discussion.

“From the footage, it seems Nadya underestimated her,” Talia went on. “She charged in, and Pandora set off a chain of explosions in the surrounding air at a distance of two meters. Nadya was removed from the fight in that instant, and another hero died rescuing her.”

“She’s mine,” Annie whispered, her back still to the holo.

Alexander frowned. “We aren’t aiming for fair fights, Annie. We take them down however we can. Four on one, if possible.”

Her head dipped in acknowledgment. “I know, Alex. But if we can’t? I want that one.”

He let it go. Looking back at the holo, he realized something was nagging at him.

From the footage, Pandora Hex in her frilly black dress, oversized boots, and parasol looked like a goth doll designed by an explosives enthusiast. In every frame she twirled a lollipop primed to become a bomb. Mercy Graves looked like a haunted house performer, except the gore soaking her nurse scrubs was real.

Both looked like they belonged on the set of a dystopian drama, not on city streets filled with bodies.

“Why are they so…”

“Like cartoon villains?” Augustus suggested.

He nodded. “Exactly. They dress like Halloween is a lifestyle choice.”

“It is the best holiday,” Talia said with a faint grin.

“It’s because superhero culture is more expressed by villains,” Annie interrupted. “Early heroes wore capes and flashy costumes. The fans loved it, but the corpo lawyers and bureaucrats forced them into tactical gear. Villains kept doing whatever they wanted. And now it’s catching on here.”

Alexander could tell he was the only one who hadn’t known that.

Fine, let’s go two-for-two.

“What about the powers? Why do all the psychos have twisted powers?”

“It was apparent early on that powers reflected personality in a way,” Augustus said. “Not always directly, but there is a connection. Cruel powers, cruel people.”

Annie nodded eagerly, mimicking a bobblehead toy. “Exactly! You get the power that matches you. It’s why people with fire powers are usually assholes—”

Talia interjected. “To be fair, passionate people are also likely to get fire-based powers. And even those with anger issues can demonstrate self-control. But she isn’t wrong, fundamentally.”

“Sure, sure,” Annie said, waving a hand in the air. “The point is, your power is an expression of yourself. Talia is a genius, so of course she got brain powers. Auggy has actual magic, because when he heard superpowers, all he heard was that he could cast spells.”

Auggy shrugged, not denying it.

“And you,” she pointed a finger at Alexander. “Do I even need to explain?”

Alexander glanced up at the ceiling, considering his own powers.

Talia cleared her throat. “Returning to the analysis. There are two more members. One we can only infer from their support of Mercy in the last attack.”

She brought up a video of an armored truck.

“Here you see her skeletons at baseline,” she explained. “Human average. No threat to us. Until… there.”

The recording showed skeletons tipping the truck. One began jerking oddly, like a puppet. It staggered, then rammed its hand through armored steel with a squeal, peeling the roof back.

Talia froze the image. “Older footage shows this repeatedly. A skeleton suddenly gains speed and strength, though always with a jerky learning curve.”

“So either a support buff or direct control,” Alexander said.

“I suspect control,” Augustus replied. “They appear to be improving over time.”

“Yeah, like someone learning to walk,” Annie said. “Then running.”

Talia swiped to the final image.

“This is the last member. Apologies for the nature of it, but it is the only image available.”

A man crouched naked beside a body, wearing only bloodstained boots. In one hand, a thin blade. He was skinning the victim alive.

Alexander could tell the victim had still been alive because, despite the single frame, they were clearly struggling against some force holding them down, trying to reach for anything that might save them.

Silence followed.

Alexander cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Annie.”

“Hm? For what?”

“For teasing you about wanting to do something about this,” he said. “This is…”

“Evil,” Annie finished.

He nodded, then turned to Talia. “How do we find them?”

“In each attack, they have either appeared from the sewers or arrived in a stolen vehicle. Hero response times varied, but each attack lasted three to eight minutes. The longest ended with the hero killed during the Nadya incident. I see no way of finding their base before the next attack.”

She raised a hand to stop Annie’s protest. “The best option is to position ourselves on a central high-rise and let Augustus portal us in when they strike. Fast and clean.”

Augustus nodded at the suggestion.

Annie launched into a heated argument. Talia defended her stance calmly. Augustus gave Alexander a questioning look, but he let it play out until they began repeating themselves.

“Enough,” Alexander said at last, looking first at Annie. “Talia is right. Our priority must be stopping the next attack. It’s the closest thing we have to a guaranteed shot at them.”

Annie opened her mouth, but he cut across her.

“But Annie is also right that we can’t do nothing in the meantime. Even if it’s unlikely, we can still begin narrowing down the location of their hideout.”

Talia nodded. “I don’t disagree with that approach.”

“We risk drawing heroes down on us if we’re out during the day,” Alexander said, “but we can’t sit idle either. Which is why we’re going to eat and make preparations, and then rest. Tomorrow, Augustus will find us entry points into the sewers. We’ll split up and track where Mercy is moving or hiding her skeletons. Because they aren’t walking through the streets.”

The others considered his words until Augustus clapped his hands, smiling.

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll get the food started.”

Across the city, in a run-down apartment, Benny lay sprawled on the floor. Around him were dozens of empty vials and half-used paint tubes. Furniture had been pushed aside to make room for finger-painted scribbles across the walls and ceiling. Words scrawled deliriously in every direction, layered with vivid depictions of cities burning, starships locked in battle, and strange, alien worlds.

“The first die is cast!” Benny giggled.

“And so it is that on this day, the path toward the first of the divine wars begins.

For in the void a starship carries the least of our sins, and alone in his cell he sings.

The Thrones contend for the right to rule, for the power to decide the fate of us all…

But even amongst gods, only three have the sense to see, and to save us from the fall.

For it was our hubris, our arrogance… nay, desire, and madness that cracked reality’s skin,

And now it’s awake, watching and judging. And into its lonely box, it shall never, ever, go back in.”