X.
"I fought for all of my life but I have never seen
destruction crawling down the path after me.
But there's a chance to live, a chance to come alive.
I'm running faster now that I know it's my time"
"Ashes, ashes. We all fall down~"
The other girl sang the words in soft repetition, drawing closer with every stanza. Asami sank to her knees under the weight of the accusations and humiliation. No matter how tightly she kept her hands pressed over her ears, she could not drown anything out. It was all true, the voice in her head kept saying. She was never going to be good enough for that world; she had no place there.
"Ashes, ashes. You will fall down~"
"Damare!" She finally screamed back at the girl and the tormenting inner voice. Her own voice sounded wretched to her, sobbing and pitiful. And Asami hated it.
The girl chuckled then, and a sharp click rang out over her amusement. The Japanese girl was too lost in her own self-loathing to notice the pink light flare across the broken boards, lifting them aside in woody bits. The girl kept snapping her fingers, taunting her with powerful bursts of miniature destruction.
"Oh, poor thing," the ominous pink-haired Goth cooed. "Not a friend in the world, huh?"
Asami wheezed in a breath through another sob. Just stop, she begged silently, no longer able to comprehend even the simplest English phrases, let alone speak in turn.
As if sensing her dilemma, the girl sang nicely, "Hush little baby, don't say a word. Mamma's gonna kill for you the whole damn world~"
She spun several small circles, and with each rotation she struck a toe harshly on the ground, causing a pop of pink fire to explode chunks of cement beneath her. The shards sent rivulets shooting towards Asami, tearing cracks like shattered glass around the miserable teen.
"It's only going to bring you down, you know. They will bring you down." There was something goading in her tone, looking for a rise. And yet, a clear sense of comfort came through her calm voice, almost as if the girl understood her pain. "Jinx. Just like me."
Through her hurtful memories and tears, Asami finally caught on to what the stranger was asking for. A decision. Give in, or give up.
It felt an awful lot like the days before her alien abduction, when she decided to run away. It wasn't entirely a conscious decision, more like an escaped prisoner fleeing. In her despair, she just ran. It was easier than coping, or fighting. Or living another day under the unsympathetic judgments and appalled, heated looks. She'd been ready to give up.
Pink fire lanced at her right, so sharp it sliced the very stone to the core.
She should just give up now. It was easier, and it was probably what she deserved. It would have been over already if it had not been for the Reach...
The power seared towards her left, cracking the ground wide. Challenging her, criticizing her.
The Reach. Sou yo. Riichi o tatakai... She was still fighting the Reach. No—they were still fighting. She remembered that night on the street, when she made the choice. She wasn't going to live in the past ever again. The Reach had unknowingly given her a second chance, and she decided to fight. For herself, for her friends—the boys always ready to include her, for who she was. They understood, and they supported her through thick and thin. She hadn't known them long, but they already displayed more caring than anyone she'd known her whole life.
Always wanting her opinion, her help, her company. Virgil had said they needed to do what's right, that they were their own team of superheroes. She recalled how Eduardo protected her on that rooftop, Tye saving them from being taken by the Reach again. And Tye's kiss. They were famiri. And she would fight for that.
With an angry sneer, she looked the Goth-girl directly in the eyes. For her frank gaze she earned a cocky head bob and a wide smile. The pink eyes illuminated, and she knew the next shot would be aimed for her.
Inhaling deeply to steel her nerves, the tears dried away. She drew herself proudly up on her knees, sitting in a humbled traditional position, her hands straight atop her thighs. She closed her eyes with a silent prayer, and the demon in her head felt its power fade.
"You belong with us, Asami Koizumi."
"Iie," she responded aloud. She precisely laid her hands on the ground, leaning over them in a time-honored bow, saying farewell to her past. As she raised back up, she glared at the girl.
Then she lifted her meta-power to counter just as the other lanced piercing light in a direct frontal attack. The rippling aura of her own unnatural energy encased her body as Sam raised onto her feet, bringing her spiraling core of wind up as well. The torn ground and pink fire could not penetrate her fierce, shielding tornado.
"Wareware wa sūpāhīrō nanoda. Atashi ga Samurai desu," she declared. "And I am not afraid of you!"
The powerful bolt of electricity shattered the delicate porcelain, dormant water and sparks spraying everywhere like a geyser as the plumbing collapsed, pipes heated and broken. See-More expected the assault, leaping off the toilet and into a no-handed cart-wheel. Virgil wouldn't have thought he'd be so acrobatic; something about that display made him realize See-More was probably well-trained.
But still, he had no meta-powers. With a growl, Virgil spread his arms apart, ripping the bathtub in two with the force of his electrical currents. The water drained away. He could feel tiny volts snaking against his skin, attacking the water clinging to him, but he fed off them. His energy was high...
Until he saw See-More slip ever-so-slightly in the sudden puddles, bumping into the door-frame. Virgil couldn't stop the memory of his blind eyes, his fumbling hands reading the world. He felt like a bully, and he hated himself for it. The thought came back to him: Powers don't make you a hero...
The electricity subsided within him, the doubt staying his hand. Sonuvabitch!
And See-More took the opportunity to flick the dial and fire again. Virgil rotated at the waist, ducking just under the laser beam as it hit the tiled wall over his shoulder, shards flying. It was a challenging aim, not a direct one as before; See-More grinned again, as if expecting more from the electrokinetic teen.
Trying to shake everything off, Virgil threw a hand at the other, letting lightning streak. See-More instantly fired another shot, counter-attacking. The two energies met in a crackling pairing, red and blue, and bounced off each other in a quaking explosion.
Virgil absorbed the rebound of his power, dropping to a knee against the small eruption of laser-light. See-More, on the other hand, laughed rather excitedly, darting from the room. Even though Virgil was aware this would be a game of follow the leader, he chased after him, his power at the surface.
What's wrong with you, Hawkins, he scolded himself. Get a game plan, or get outta here. This guy's just messin' with you!
Back out into the desolate tunnel, Virgil saw a flash of white down the hallway, See-More's pace prompting him to keep up. It was utterly dark in this horrible building, and Virgil allowed his power to crackle freely, giving him a blue aura to see by. At night, the empty structure seemed like a mortuary temple, the dust reflecting his light like a ghostly haze through the catacombs.
Coming to the stairwell junction, he heard a harsh whistle, and suddenly something struck the wall; like a bullet, it tore clean through. Virgil planted his weight into his heels, skidding to a halt before putting himself into the line of fire. From the stairs, See-More's helmet shot another round, which ricocheted like a misaimed slingshot. Virgil ducked against the other side, crouching down. When the projectile rolled towards him, he could see it was eyeball-esque. Funny, he thought with a snicker.
Funny or not, they were still as strong as ball bearings, the missile function of his helmet able to inflict serious pain. He needed to be careful. Yet, it was clear See-More was no longer going in for the kill, his aims constantly off. Leadin' me somewhere? Should he foolishly keep following?
Then again, he remembered See-More said somebody wanted to talk to him, and that sparked his curiosity. Listening to the other's feet pound down the stairs, Virgil was hell-bent to follow. However, he still recalled what curiosity did to the cat.
Sam didn't shy away from the fight, instead spiraling right for the Jinx girl. Her own powers churned the ruins of the ground level as she put everything she had into the attack—everything and more, her emotions bringing an empowering force to her meta defenses.
Jinx was nimble and calm, and she cart-wheeled out of harm's way, then flipping over and over to put distance between them. Sam spun on the balls of her feet. And as she skimmed towards the far wall she pushed her energy backwards. It struck the wall and projected her like a shot, once more aiming for her opponent. It was strong and fast, and this time Jinx couldn't dance her way out of the reverberating winds, the circular currents cutting like rotating blades.
The Goth-girl cried out in surprise when the ripples sliced the hem of her dress, ripping her leggings. As she back-flipped, Asami pulled her power up, catching her across the face at the last minute. When they both slid apart, Sam turned to see Jinx put a hand to her face, seeing a small welt of blood across her cheek.
For a moment, Jinx seemed astonished, wiping the bud of red from her face. But instead of growing angry or scared, a huge, morbid grin lifted her features into a wolfish visage, and her pink eyes widened eagerly.
"Mmm, now that's more my style." It was a pleased, vicious whisper.
Asami did not bother trying to understand her words. Instead, she stood tall under that half-crazed expression of excitement and thought of the boys. She said, "Push it over goal line. Kamakaze beats visual kei Lolita, all time."
"Every time?" The other girl chuckled. "We'll see about that." She snapped her fingers.
And Sam clapped her hands together, drawing her power around her. But instead of attacking, the bright light of the other's probability manipulation powers severed the ceiling. More of the building overhead came crashing down, broken anew, the church moaning like something caught in the throes of death. Jinx turned and tumbled, spun and arched—always outside the danger. Until she vanished back into the shadows, the falling rubble blocking Asami from going after her.
As the way cleared, Sam leaped over the new wreckage with a little aide from her meta-powers. She went from one mound to the next, letting the winds clear her way, steady her balance. She couldn't tell which hole Jinx crawled back into to escape. "Che!"
And yet, somehow, Sam knew the girl hadn't fled the battlefield. She was taunting her to follow, trying to lead her towards... who knew what? Asami had no idea what was happening here, why it seemed constantly on the verge of both friend and foe.
So instead she decided to find out what happened to Tye.
As Virgil came to the second story level, he felt a concentrated gust of air hurl off the landing, sending dust-bunnies spinning like tumbleweeds caught in miniature twisters. Thinking See-More responsible, he left the flight—only to discover this hallway was nearly demolished! It looked like a demented bulldozer had torn through, and recently.
What he never expected to find, however, was a familiar ripple of light radiating from below the split floor, midway through the hall. The lashing air grew, and he saw Asami using her meta-power to boost herself up from under the ruins.
"Sam!" He rushed to her, stumbling and sliding over the catastrophic devastation, which threatened to give under his weight. As he half-fell towards the gaping hole, he took her hand, helping her climb the last bit of way. "Sam, what're you doin' here?"
Releasing her power, her eyes wide, she said, "Virgil-kun okay?"
"Yeah, I guess. But—"
Without waiting, Sam jerked him by the hand, trying to backtrack towards the stairs. "Tye-kun trouble! Soshite Edu-kun? Hayaku, please!"
Oh shit... He knew it all along, that once Ed found his hat the other Runaways would come looking for him. Now he wished they hadn't. Virgil wasn't sure how they found him, nor could he guess what in the world was happening here in this Hell. But he felt certain of the severity of the situation. We're all here, apart and in danger. Damn, this isn't good!
He gripped her hand back, letting her know he understood. The pair struggled back over the hall's remains, Virgil clearing their way with his electricity. And as they finally reached the stairwell, tripping up in the dark, they heard a roaring boom of some monstrous battle below.
Dispirited, Eduardo wasn't completely ready when the other swung his cloak around his shoulders, the blackness causing him to vanish. Literally. Ed swallowed back a gasp, watching the body seem to meld with the other shadows, disappearing entirely. He remembered the shadow-figure he saw at the apartments, and confusion erupted.
It was this boy. And he had helped them.
What was going on here?
Then the cold winds burst through the cement expanse; Ed shifted his weight, taking a fighting stance. He saw the red eyes appear under the staircase. Then the draft, and the boy sunk into the floor, gone again.
Ed was breathing heavily, brain working to comprehend, but he knew one thing for certain... Hastily, he scanned the basement, eyes searching the terrible darkness—and then he turned around to an icy stab of air and red eyes staring him in the face, inches away.
He jerked back from the placid gaze, but there was no challenge made. It irritated Eduardo, who gave the other an angry side sneer. "So you can teleport, huh?"
The face was expressionless and patient, once again giving no verbal reply.
"Doesn't impress me." And Ed teleported in turn, snapping into the golden void of his own power.
Emerging from the Zeta-field, he was now behind the dark-clad teen in a mocking display. Yet Ed wasn't about to play his waiting game. As he appeared, even before the light faded, he kicked the other in the small of his back, pushing him away. Almost instantly, the boy regained his equilibrium, planting his feet and sliding. He tensed at the core and spun gracefully, lashing out.
His jabs were swift and well-aimed, and Ed realized he had training beyond using his powers. He parried, not as reflexive, and he had to pull back. Taking the chance, Ed teleported again, just soon enough to dodge a punch.
He re-appeared on the plane, at a distance. And so did the cloaked teenager. One warm gold, the other freezing black, they both came back in the same moment, in the same direction. Ed cursed. He doesn't need sightlines! And that would be his downfall, because his eyes would give him away every time. His damn power.
The kid swung a fist, his cape flying. Ed jumped away from the incoming blow and the boy's fist missed—but not the snap of his cape. There was a baritone click as the tip of his jagged hemline caught Ed in the face, and Ed felt a sudden, sharp sting on his chin. The points! The cape's cut allowed each tip to be reinforced with steel.
Double trouble, now he had to worry about the reach of the uniform. Ed was quick enough to drop below the next aim, and he counter-attacked by ramming an elbow into the other's stomach. But instead of being forced back, his opponent let his weight drop down. Simultaneously lifting his cape around them both.
Once again Ed was sucked into the frigid void. Coming back, he was too stunned to fight the grappling hands of the wicked kid, who had him by the scarf, using it to throw Ed roughly off his feet. Half-choked, Ed lost his balance and fell heavily to his knees, pitching forward. As he tumbled to the ground, his vest flung up his shoulders. Coughing, he unconsciously whipped the frayed drape back—
And a piece of cardstock fell out of his pocket.
His father's business card.
All of a sudden, the weighted despair lifted from Ed's spirits, like the break of dawn pulling him from a nightmare. His mind cleared in a tidal wave of emotions. As he stared at the phone numbers, he could hear his father's hopeful words: "Maybe, when this is over, you will come home?"
Come home... There was no mistaking that acceptance. His father wanted him back in his life. He had a home waiting.
"Nobody wants you!" the hidden demon tried to remind.
With affectionate purpose, Eduardo Jr. picked up the card, clutching it as his salvation, his future. He was no longer willing to believe it, the anger, the childhood tears, the misery. Whatever happened in the past between father and son was over. Perhaps not yet reconciled, but he felt sure his father was ready to try, just as he was. What mattered now was surviving. No, it was fighting. The voice in his head was a lie, everything happening in this underground world was deceiving. And he needed to get out.
"Crafty cabrón," Eduardo growled, glaring at the boy standing calmly, expectant of an answer. "Did you think I'd just lay down and die?"
Oddly, the boy shook his head, still giving him the passive silent treatment.
With angry pride, Ed gave the card to the care of his buttoned breast pocket. Then he brought his eyes up—and teleported.
He came free of the Zeta glow, setting down on the last stair he could see, and bolted the rest of the way up the flight. Cold gusts of wind at his back told him the kid was following. But the door was still open, whatever specter had been taunting him gone.
Eduardo raced from the pantry, finding himself in a massive, rather commercial-looking kitchen. As he came free of the black basement realm, an echoing quake shook the room, the walls shuddering as something large struck somewhere. He slid on the linoleum, knocking into the island counter. What the hell was that?
He took in the whole of the unlit room, finding cabinets, cupboards, and only one door. That's my way out! Without another thought, disregarding the ruckus, he ran to that door, throwing it open and coming into an arching alcove. There was something strangely pious in the theme of the building, and Ed almost felt prompted to seek blessing by Crossing himself.
He hadn't the chance as he came from the alcove into a vast, open hall. Perhaps at one time a dining arrangement, it was now a cataclysm of broken tables, snapped pews, and litter; dust hung low, churned up by a sudden battle. The walls were seared with black ash. There was light in this room.
He was halted in his dash, eyes fixed on a large cross ahead, befitting the religious quality of the construct. Suddenly, another quake rocked the hall, and the cross tipped off its base, began to fall backwards. Towards Eduardo.
Backing away, he began to reach for his power, to return to the safety of the alcove —
Until he saw the glowing outline of two large hands grab the collapsing fixture.
"Tye!?"
Lifting the substantial cross as easily as if it were a tiny pendant, the Apache boy's astral projection set the burden aside, rescuing him. The golden form was not in its most colossal size, and there was something unsettling about that, as if Tye were unable to use the full force of his meta-power.
Sinking to the ground from the heart of the Spirit, the light of his power pooled into his own chest, dissipating. Tye opened his eyes, and Ed could see a cold fire burning in them; he was more angry than Ed had ever seen him.
Rushing into the battleground with an alarmed confusion, Ed asked, "What are you doing here? Where are we?"
Tye refused his aid, instead pulling himself up and beckoning his friend off in warning. "Careful—"
And even as he spoke, Ed felt the cold air raising from the ground nearby. The portal crackled wide, the malevolent looking teenager levitating over the threshold with a flutter of his black cloak. Tye gasped, the look on his face becoming one of puzzlement and combative suspicion. This one was not Tye's rival.
No, he was Ed's. Grounding himself back into a rigid fighting posture, Ed prepared to face another round.
Then a crowing laugh resounded throughout the great room, and Eduardo jumped at the sudden appearance of the new character. The boy was small, having the chubby frame of a toddler and as bald as a newborn. Yet he was strapped to a mechanical jetpack, sharp wings and flaring power propelling him through the air at a high-velocity. His black eyes were shielded by goggles, and he looked more like a scientist than an aviator. The word wunderkind sprang to mind.
Worse, the kid was ecstatic over his brainiac display and disorder. Shooting around the place, the pack equipped with weapons en mass, he had been the one charring the dining hall, the one sparring against Tye.
As if in confirmation to his assumption, Tye's hands balled strongly into fists and he glared at the child-prodigy. He backed towards Ed, and the two boys stood at the ready, shoulder-to-shoulder. Strangely enough, their opponents made not a move against them, an all-too-familiar scenario to Ed. Anticipation was thick upon the room, silencing, and Ed had the fleeting sensation they were all of them waiting. It felt too much like being at the labs with expectant scientists anxious to see their meta-genes at work.
"What's going on?" he asked quietly, keeping his eyes fixed on the two kid predators.
Tye just shook his head.
Just then, a playful giggle lifted from the shadows, hushed at first but growing louder. Eduardo stiffened at the recognizable sound, turning to find the Goth-girl lurking nearby. Her appearance did not surprise him, but what she said in his direction did.
"Tye and Asami sitting in a tree~" The sing-song way in which she spoke the names made a resentful tickle wash over Ed's skin; Tye swung to face her, his body language tight. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G."
Crazy. This is all crazy, Ed told himself. Yet... her tone... Her tone bothered him. She wasn't teasing like some lewd schoolgirl at recess. She was openly slapping him with a fact; he felt it as clearly as a tap on the shoulder. Or a stab in the chest. He looked at Tye—he couldn't help himself, the voice of the girl so sure and mocking—but the other proudly tensed, and decisively refused to meet his eyes, like he was pleased yet embarrassed. Somehow, despite the antagonistic situation, Eduardo knew.
The amount of jealous contempt which welled up amazed him, but he couldn't stop the hurt glare he hit Tye with. And Tye caught it in turn, his eyes narrowing in a morphing range of feelings. Tye's lips parted to speak, but:
"Nah, girl!"
They whipped around towards the other new voice raised in gaiety. It was a boy dressed in a bold green-and-white uniform, his face nothing but one large eyeball. Ed's glare grew even more overwrought and disgusted.
"It goes more like: Two little Injuns foolin' with a gun. One shot t'other and then there was one!" He waggled a sole finger in their direction, his words full of a curious implication.
"Ooh, yes," she breathed seductively, her eyes searching first Eduardo's face, and then Tye's. To the latter she gave an all-knowing wink. "One little Injun living all alone. He got married and then there were none."
"What do you think, Gizmo?"
The runt science-whiz snorted in ridicule, then laughed. "I think it's jumpin' the gun." With a push of a controller button, two rifle muzzles lifted from the backpack, one over each small shoulder. "I haven't even warmed my lasers yet."
Movement out of the corner of his eye told Ed the cloaked teleporter shook his head. Again helping them?
"Kyd Wykkyd's right," the girl said softly, and something about her demeanor changed. She sounded authoritative but cautious, the smile gone from her face. "Not yet."
"Why not?" At the sudden band of motley bullies toying with them, Tye became even more enraged, stalking towards the girl. "Come on, you afraid to stand up to me? I'm sick of this! Stop hiding behind your schoolyard sticks n' stones shit. If you have something to say, say it to my face!"
"They do not have anything to say, my dear boy," a smooth, deep voice suddenly announced. "I do."
Note: Chapter is titled using lyrics from the song "A Chance" by Torn In Two. Also used Harley Quinn's rendition of the classic lullaby. All rights reserved and no infringement is intended.