Soulfrenzy

Chapter 36 - You Love It

"What is this place?"

Slade answered Raguil's question by slamming the door behind him, leaving him alone in the darkness. The room was bare, just like the hallway that had led to it. He was quickly growing tired of Slade's taste in decoration.

He hadn't seen the sun in weeks. No light seemed to penetrate this man's mysterious lair. Granted, the Titans hadn't let him out much either - but he had the feeling Slade's reasons were not quite the same. At least in the tower, he had had time to do what he pleased. With Slade - and the man he referred to as "Draco" - there was no time. He was told when to eat, where to go, how to sleep. And he had no choice but to obey, lest he be dropped like a bomb on the city the Titans… his friends… defended.

"You don't seem at ease," Slade's voice echoed through the room, tinned by a speaker system. "That is good." When Raguil did not respond, he continued apace. "Your senses are dulled when you are relaxed. For you to embrace your full potential, you must be constantly on guard."

Raguil's eyes narrowed. If only Slade understood just how on guard he was.

"But more on that later. For now, I have a simple task for you… a trifle, really. You are to destroy this."

The room was suddenly illuminated by a column of light. After his eyes had adjusted, Raguil found that he was not alone in this room. A black, hunched man with an orange mask stood motionless before him. Raguil stepped back, wondering how his presence had avoided his psionic detection. He searched for some sign of thought, but there was none. It was not a man at all… it was a machine.

Despite himself, Raguil almost smirked. It was befitting for someone like Slade to work alone, even with all the henchmen in the world. He exhaled and approached the robot, reaching out to find some weak point.

"No."

Raguil froze, fingers outstretched, a small drop of dread growing into a flood within him.

"Do not touch it. You know what I am asking for."

Raguil exhaled and clenched his fist as he retracted it. It was shaking.

"... No," he said, not at all as forcefully as he had hoped. "You do not understand. I-"

"This is not a debate." Slade cut through him effortlessly. "Your weakness is what makes your powers dangerous. If you cannot face that…" The robot jolted. The eyeholes in its mask began to gleam white. It clenched its fists. "Then you are not of use to me."

The robot lunged without warning. Raguil grunted as it drove its fist into his face, sending him stumbling backward until he hit the floor. He looked up; its hunched figure was silhouetted by the room's floodlight, like a dark giant ready to strike. It raised a fist to strike him. Raguil heard it resound off of the metal floor as he rolled away.

His head was pounding. It was a feeling he was growing increasingly familiar with. He tried to get up, but his muscles were so tense that they barely responded. He groaned, trying to suppress the fire under his skin.

"Gah!" A heavy, metallic boot drove into his abdomen. It lifted him a few inches off the ground, only to slam back down with a clang. He coughed, and something warm and dark dripped from his lips.

All the while, he saw it. He saw himself consumed in fire. He felt all of his resistance brutally swept aside, as if he were nothing. As if he had no say in what he did, like he was a pawn in someone else's game. The creature, the Titans, Slade - it didn't matter. It was never up to him. He was just a side note in the margins. But he didn't want to live that way. No more did he want to be a nothing. No more did he want to be an afterthought.

No more.

He felt it more than he heard it. The robot's balled fist was swinging in toward his face. But he didn't want to be hit anymore. So he caught it. He barely felt any force at all, compared to his own. He knew that the robot was as strong as any man, perhaps even stronger. But it felt like a toy. The fire continued to burn inside, but it wasn't the creature's anymore. It was his.

And he squeezed. He heard the metallic hand groan and collapse like so much paper. And, despite himself, Raguil smiled.

He turned, coming up onto one knee. He felt the burn race through his arm as he twisted toward the robot. Blue light arced from his palm, striking its plated "chest." He saw the glow blossom outward, not as fire, just pure light.

And then the robot was gone. It was not until he heard the resounding clang, deep in the shadows of the chamber, that he realized it had been blasted across the entire space.

The room was again silent. All he heard was his own breathing, and the pounding of his heart. Raguil stared down at his palm, where the last sparks of energy were rapidly fading. What had just happened? He was worried, surprised, but… he also felt, for the first time in his life, powerful.

"Very good, Raguil," Slade intoned. He sounded no happier than before. "Was that so hard?"

Raguil didn't respond. He couldn't stop looking at his hand, and perhaps what lied beneath. The world seemed… different, now. But he could not understand why.

"What you are feeling right now is the key to control. Most men never grasp it. Most men are afraid of it. But you are not most men, Raguil. I will show you how to use it. And the day will come that you realize something: you love it."

For the first time, an argument did not come to Raguil's mind. He wasn't concerned with rebuking Slade anymore.

The room began to vibrate. The walls retracted, revealing dozens more hunched, masked forms behind them. One by one, they each flickered to life, and clenched their fists. Raguil looked at each in turn, but he was no longer afraid.

"For the moment, however," Slade added, "practice makes perfect."