Izuku's red sneakers squeaked over the sleek concrete slab that reflected the sunshine that beamed through the glass ceiling above. The rumble of Void Industries workers vibrated the floor, pounding about like rhinos charging their prey in the Serengeti. Some of them flashed about white lab coats that flowed in the cool draft of the sleek entrance atrium.
And what an impressive atrium it was. The ceilings were as tall as the grand staircase of the new school. In place of the stairs was a golden statue of a stout-looking businessman behind a wide marble table that reminded Deku of the eating area from "The Last Supper." A loud din of paper shuffling and nervous technicians arguing about the results of the latest experiment coated the ears of the teacher. The perimeter was lined with the second floor that had metal flooring and led to the other supply rooms and experiment areas. Golden fringe was built into the bronze railings that criss-crossed overhead on the rafters. It was a majestic and beautiful industrial building that put most of the support item businesses in Japan to shame.
"Greetings, everybody," a man with a nasal-inflicted accent coming straight from his nose said. Short and somewhat portly, he was a gentle-looking person with a greying bush of a moustache dancing on the top of his lip. A small bandage stuck onto the top of the man's forehead, and his face was dotted with a few bruises on his cheek. The top of his head covered with matching grey hair, the man cleared his throat and he buttoned up the top part of his cobalt polo shirt. "My name is Don, and I'm glad you could join us for this tour of Void Industries. Forgive my appearance. I was recently in a...car accident."
Moxie leered at the man. "That guy looks familiar," she said under her breath.
Lloyd glanced at the southern girl next to him, but he paid little mind to the comment.
"I'm so happy you could schedule this on such short notice," Don said. "But...the Misses really wanted you all here."
"Misses?" Izuku asked.
"Miss Void! The president and CEO," Don said. "Now, Mister Deku, I believe Miss Void wanted to see you in her office to personally welcome you here. She is very busy, so she can only meet for a few minutes."
Izuku frowned. He figured that the lady that brought them here would be more than happy to meet all of them. Regardless, he was not one to turn down hospitality. "I guess you all can keep yourselves busy for a while," Izuku said to the class.
"Oi," James shouted up at Don from behind the whole class. "I need to use the bathroom. Where is it?"
"What?" Don asked. "Why do you need to use the bathroom?"
"Because I want to eat a burger," James said with an eye-roll. "Why do you think?"
"I, too, wish to use the restroom," Lloyd raised his hand at the front of the class. "I assumed we were going to conduct physical activity early this morning, and drank much more water than necessary."
"Nobody needs to hear that, Ron Weasley," James yelled.
Don began to perspire from the fake toupee that seared the top of his head. The boss had told him that he needed the entire class together for this plan to work. "But...maybe you all could hold it unti-."
"You want me to torture myself till the end of your tour?" James asked with a deep snarl.
"Bladder infections kill up to three million people per year worldwide," Lloyd chastised. "I thought the scientists here would understand that."
"Maybe we should all go to the restroom before this," Katsu announced to the rest of the class. "We don't know how many are along the way."
"There are bathrooms on every floor," Don shouted. The entire class gaped at the man, his normal nasal tone disappearing into the harsh hillbilly twang that he normally spoke. Realising his mistake, he tugged at his collar and adjusted the moustache that nearly came off his lips.
"What I meant," he returned back to his character. "Is that there is ample time for that. But...if you have to go now, then you can meet us up on the second floor."
James ticked his tongue and shoved his hand in his pockets. "Whatever." He said when walking away towards the men's room sign etched into the side of the main lobby. Lloyd followed suit and disappeared through the swivel door to the bathroom.
"Now, if there are no more interruptions," Don said. He pointed up towards the giant elevator doors on the opposite corner of the lobby. "Let's get cracking!"
As he led the other students to the elevator, he whipped out his phone and pulled up Raimundo's number.
Two are in the lobby bathroom. Lock them up.
Once the rest of the class headed into the elevator, Raimundo entered through the main entrance. Seeing the class disappear behind the large doors, he ripped off his fake beard and rushed towards the men's room door.
Martel had mixed feelings about the class and this impromptu tour.
The giant elevator was wide enough to take all of them up to the second floor. On the floor, he followed behind the weird manager named Don with the other classmates marching behind them. The light periwinkle walls of the spacious hallways stretched towards the end of the walkway where a metal door stood. On either side of the hall, glass windows revealed different kinds of lab rooms where technicians sashayed around like disco dancers breaking it down on Saturday night. Right next to Martel, a room with a single velvet chair and a large, bazooka-like laser pointed at the chair.
Martel stroked his own chin trying to figure out the purpose of this whole escapade. It was certainly cool to show off his family's company to the class. However, his mother was not known to be a show-off with anything other than her technology. As his heels clacked over the tile floor of the spacious walkway, he racked his brain for any inconsistencies in her behavior over the past few months. Less sleep. More work. Paid little attention to him. That was nothing new.
Sure, she had started to practice speaking and writing in the Russian language, but he supposed she always wanted to be a polyglot. In fact, he was well behind on that aspect of his studies. He made a mental note to try and learn some new languages in this school.
"What's that?" Robyn asked and pointed at the large window.
"Nothing," Don said. "Now let's move on to-."
"That's the movie reverse-inator," Martel said. "Mom worked on it since 2010."
"Really?" Hunter asked. "What does it do? Create images that come from your mind? Make them come to life?"
The class stopped around Martel. Seeing he had their attention, he took out a pair of bronze goggles from his void space and snapped them onto his eyelids. He turned back to the lab and tapped on the plexiglass leaving a small smudge. "Actually, it makes a person forget a bad movie they saw. Observe."
Inside the room, a bald, pasty man with thin legs and a face that reminded Martel of a ferret pranced to the chair. In a simple polo black shirt and cargo shorts, he adjusted his black-rimmed glasses and scratched at the strange round nose. Sitting in the chair, he stared right at the laser. In a flash, a ruby beam erupted from the cannon and absorbed itself into the person.
The man appeared unaffected. Then, a lab tech walked over with a clipboard and clicked his pen.
"Excuse me mister," The class heard the muffled voice of the lab tech. "Have you heard of The Last Airbender?
"I love that show," The man said.
"Have you seen the movie?"
"What movie?"
Robyn gasped and clutched her chest. The rest of the class clapped in disbelief at the technology. Martel smirked at the applause around him, feeling proud at just how well his mom's company was working.
"Yes, very good," Don said. "Now, let's move on to the end of the hal-."
"What's that?" Robyn pointed across the hall to the next lab room. In it, another balding man sat at a table and ate a mountain of cannolis. Custard cream swam down his toucan-looking face as his beady blue eyes were glossed over with lust at the food. He swallowed some of them completely whole, and the lavender shirt around his torso seemed to burst at every chomp.
"That," Martel headed to the other side of the hallway. "Is the italian dessert voider. It erases any particles of desserts that you consumed so you can eat even more. But it only works for Italian desserts."
"Huh?" Don asked. "But why just Italian-."
From the side of the room, another ray burst at the pudge ball of a man. When the ray hit him, he looked right up at the students in front of him. Then, the beam disappeared into nothingness. The man, taking a quick pause, continued to consume the cannolis.
"This is good stuff," the man said. He turned to his left and pointed down at his plate of depleting cannolis. "And I'm starving. Hey, Larry! Bring me some more! Larry! Larry! Where'd you go? Larry! Larry!"
The man continued to scream for the lab tech as the class applauded again.
"Great," Don said with an unamused growl. "Now that's outta the way, let's head to the metal door at the end of the-,"
"But wait," Robyn pointed diagonally at another display window. "What's happening in that room?"
Don ground his teeth and snapped a pencil in his hand as the class became entranced again. They swam like a school of fish towards the door as Martel gazed at the next lab of inventions. His goggles, displaying the name and attributes of the gadgets, played the role of tour guide and focused on it.
"That is the crumb magnet," Martel pointed at a big red horseshoe hanging on a nylon sting above a pile of small cookie crumbs. "Ever been in a car and ate something, but the crumbs fell into the crack between the center console and the chair? Now, you can get those crumbs."
Robyn gasped again as the class burst into applause.
Don shook with rage and let out a terse cough. "Okay, that's great. We got plenty of more where that came from. But it's all in the dark, metal door at the end of th-."
"But wait," Robyn pointed at something else. "What is that?"
"That," Martel patted on the side of a giant humming monolith. "Is a vending machine."
The lights of the doors flashing through the slit of the elevator door. Tapping his foot, Izuku spotted the hint of soldering irons and the buzzing of welding equipment through every floor the elevator ran over. A meek intern clutched a clipboard to her chest like it was a flotation device and she was in a tank of sharks. She fidgeted around as if stuck in an uncomfortable massage table.
On the long ride upward, Izuku's head felt lighter with the fast ascent up the tall building. He turned and flashed a comforting smile to the intern next to him. She would immediately blush and keep her face hidden from the freckled Pro-Hero.
With a robotic ding, the doors slid open.
"This way please," the intern said. She scampered in her high heels out towards the main floor.
Izuku stepped out onto the open office floor. Rows of monochromatic cubicles stretched through the area. Walking over the indigo carpet, Izuku glanced over out the pristine windows to the clear skyline of Los Angeles. An occasional flock of birds chirped past with some news helicopters whirling in the distance. Cars scurried about like tiny ants in a farm that crossed over the crowded concrete below.
As he followed the girl, Izuku sidestepped some business people who were rushing through the office. It was pandemonium up on the floor. Men shouted into their phones and pointed up at the stock market ticker that ran red numbers on the tops of the office's walls. The women in the office ran around with stacks of papers fluttering about in their hands. A few of them cursed to themselves and rushed around to who knows where. The cacophony of beeping phones and yells about the latest price drop on petroleum nearly overwhelmed Izuku, and he was so happy that he did not end up becoming a salaryman back in Japan.
At the very center of the office to the left wall, a small oak door sat in front of what seemed to be a broom closet. The intern gave a quick knock. After hearing a voice from the other side, the inter opened the door. With a tremble, she motioned for Izuku to head inside.
Izuku nodded a quick thanks and headed into the main office. On the door was a sign that said "Edith Void, CEO" and nothing else.
Inside the office, there was not much else. All that lay in the commercial prison was four oyster walls and boxes of unopened business documents towering next to a ramshackle desk polluted with glass paperweights and scattered . A basic lightbulb hung overhead with a chain to flick the light on or off. It swiveled in place, and the sounds of the shouting on the office floor disappeared into a light muffle behind Izuku as he heard the door slammed shut behind him. The light shook more. It was an office more akin to a police interrogation room than a CEO's workspace.
In front of him, the CEO sat with her legs crossed dead center on the desk. With the harsh shadows and lack of natural light, only the area immediately surrounding her was visible. The rest of the office was drenched in obtuse shadow.
"Mister Deku," Edith gave off a tight grin. "So nice to meet you again."
Deku stepped right under the lightbulb and scratched the back of his head. "It's...very nice to see you also, Void-sama!"
"Oh, no need for that," Edith said. "You and Mister Bakugo have provided so much money for my company. I should be bowing to you right now."
Izuku noticed the lady's stretched out smile. Based on the frizz of her hair and the white knuckles that clenched the edge of her desk, something was amiss with this lady. He had only known her from various business functions and parties. At his hero agency, they struck a special deal to exclusively use Void Industries technology for support item purposes. The lady, however, was much more formal and carried herself with the air of an old-fashioned socialite. Her voice now was hoarse, and the mismatched business wear she had on (a purple blouse with a green necktie) made him concerned about whether she was invigorating 70's formal fashion or she was beginning to let herself go.
Or something else.
"Miss Void," Izuku said with his eyes flickering around the tiny room. "Why did you invite my students here today?"
"It's a way of paying you all back," Edith stepped off the desk and walked around it. She scooted out her hard-back wooden chair and threw herself on it. "You've given me so much, why would I want to do anything else but show that."
"Yes, but the school said this was just set up yesterday," Izuku said. "And you only wanted to meet with me."
"I think anybody would want to meet with you, Deku," Edith said. She then reached for the intercom phone next to her Apple II computer. Pressing a button on the intercom, she waited for a chirp on the speaker. "Denise, bring up a latte for me."
Depressing the button, she leaned back on her chair and drummed her fingers on the desk. "You know, Mister Deku, my eyes have been open over the past day or so. I've heard some interesting things on the news involving you and your school lately," she shuffled over some papers and pulled up a thin newspaper cover. Pointing at the bottom corner with her stubby middle finger, she tapped on a picture of Midnight disabled on the Santa Monica Pier. "Your students running around the city. Bakugo blasting off like Team Rocket on the freeway? A shooting at a gas station?"
"How did-they weren't supposed to release her name to the press," Izuku stepped up to the desk. "Moxie is a minor."
"They didn't, but I get the front line on what happens at that school," Edith said. "Also, I had no idea it was Moxie Lee. So, thank you for that knowledge. I'll make sure to tell Martel to steer clear of her and her shotgun."
"Wh-what is this?" Izuku asked. "What's going on here?"
"All I'm saying," Edith raised up her finger to silence him. "Is that the relationship between this school and myself are extremely important. However, I've realized over the past six months or so that granting a generous grant to a Hero school can have complications. Then again, hormonal teenagers in themselves are a complication. I myself have experience in that, growing up in a time of much less scrutiny. But I digress."
"Miss Void, I'm not getting at what you mean," Izuku said.
"In fact, you might want to thank me for the job you have right now, Mister Deku" Edith said. "Do you think Principal Tommy wanted to hire you? No, no. He wanted to hire that actor, Christopher Bale, but I told him that he wasn't actually Batman. He only played one for those movies. He might hire him later anyway. In fact, he really wanted that teacher you had! Aizawa."
"He's retired," Izuku said. This new information was starting to hurt his head. This lady had a hand in hiring him? So what? What did that have to do with this trip or with what the school's relationship with Void Industries was today? "What do you mean he didn't want to hire me? He personally called me. Why are you telling me this?"
"I'm saying," Edith stood up. "That I've done a favor or two for you in the past. And I think maybe you could help me with something."
"Like what?"
"Well," Edith smiled with a hint of malice. "I had an epiphany about six months ago after meeting somebody. They came in and showed me some very interesting...images. And I think what I saw changed how I feel Void Industries resources should be utilized. And I believe you and your powers would be perfect in showcasing that for the rest of the world. A world where people feel better than ever. Think, Mister Deku. So much despair and stress out there. On television. On the news. In life. People are scared, and I think Void Industries would be the perfect weapon in combating those fears and putting them to bed."
"Images?" Izuku asked. "Epiphany? What are you...Oh, wait! I get it now! You're a scientologist!"
Edith's face dropped into confusion. "Huh?"
"You're trying to convert me to Scientology," Izuku asked. "I heard it's big around Hollywood."
"Are you crazy?" Edith asked. Her attempt at intimidating Izuku with her villainous monologue had taken a wacky turn.
"I mean, I really appreciate the invite," Izuku said with a nervous chuckle. He stabbed a step towards the exit behind him. "But I don't really want to do that kind of stuff."
"Have you listened to a word I said," Edith asked. "I'm trying to give you an ultimatum!"
The door opened behind Izuku. Edith froze, then relaxed when she saw the person holding her drink in hand.
Holding a latte was a bald man wearing a tan business suit. He walked towards the desk and set down the drink. "Here you go, Edith."
"Thank you, Raimundo," Edith said, shaking off her confusion at Izuku's line of thinking. She took a sip from the cup.
As the man turned to walk away, he made brief eye contact with Izuku. When he looked at his face, Izuku strained his eyes in the dark room and remembered the different lines and wrinkles in the man's forehead. Minus the side chops and straggly beard from earlier, the man looked oddly familiar.
When the man passed him, Izuku turned around. "Hey, aren't you the bus dri-."
Izuku gasped when the needle sunk into his neck. A warm, viscous fluid flowed into his bloodstream. From the injection, he felt a soothing warmth like he had plunged into a massaging hot tub. His legs shook like strands of spaghetti, and his muscles relaxed into gums of flesh.
"Wh-what di...why is..." Deku trailed off.
He collapsed backwards onto the musty carpet. His head limp and hanging on his shoulder, his eyelids were as heavy as boulders when he saw the light of the ceiling above flicker in and out of existence. Whatever this injection was, it was powerful enough to incapacitate him almost instantly.
The last thing he saw were two shadows standing over head. Edith and the bus driver formerly known as Ray. Then, out from the corner of his eye, he saw one more outline appear right above him.
"Good job," The strange, Eastern European voice said in a muffled tone. "I had no idea it would work that well."
"Thanks for the six month head start," Edith said. "Now, we head back down to floor two."
Before Izuku could question what was happening, he slipped away and twitched limp on the ground.
Darkness.
James had done everything he could.
With another shout, his neon energy erupted on the side of the mahogany door. Again, the sparks of neon splayed over the door but created no damage. The rays spat and tickled over the wood before dissipating in the musty air of the porcelain-infested restroom. There was no window or vent that they could see in the room. All that lay were the sinks, stalls, and the single door that remained frozen like a wall holding an enemy force at bay from the fortress.
It had been ten minutes, and James had tried everything to break through. The door was made out of some strong alloy. Either that, or he was seriously losing his touch. With a final smack of his fist, he panted for air and pasted his forehead on the barrier.
"Can you relax?" Lloyd asked. "They've probably noticed there's an issue by now."
"You moron," James shouted, his harsh voice echoing throughout the bathroom. "This was on purpose. Someone played a prank on us. It was probably that metal head raccoon or that know-it-all rich kid that sounds like Jim Carrey."
"Oh, you noticed that as well?" Lloyd sat down at the end of the room. He rested his head, the back of it now kissed by the cool beige tile of the warm room. His legs splayed out before him, he clasped his hands over his middle and perched his back as straight as a board.
James ticked and shook his head. "I don't even care at this point. It's not like they would show me anything I'd care to see," he strode over towards Lloyd and loomed over him. Leaning on the sink next to him, James placed his head on his set hand and scowled at the wall where Lloyd sat.
"I heard they just made the newest version of the Rain-inator," Lloyd said up towards James. "That could have been interesting."
"How do we get out of this shit?" James groaned out at the ceiling.
"We should just wait," Lloyd said. "Besides, I already texted Moxie and Katsu. I'm sure one of them will alert Mister Deku."
"He's not 'mister' anything. He's just Deku. Call him by his normal name."
"That is his normal name. I have respect for people who deserve it like him."
James paused and shifted his scowl down at Lloyd. "What's it like being such a wet blanket?"
"I don't even know what that means," Lloyd pulled down on a kink in his crucifix necklace.
"Exactly," James said. "That's why your such a wet blanket."
"I've only known you for a week," Lloyd blared his yellow eyes at the delinquent-like student. "But you clearly have some problems your bringing from home."
"And what do you care?" James uncoiled himself straight like a viper ready to strike.
Lloyd flipped over his palms in an inviting fashion. "I think there's nothing wrong with understanding that and being open to it. The greatest antidote to disappointment is gratitude."
"Oh, you read that in you daily Gospel readings?" James asked and crossed his arms to take a step towards Lloyd, his shadow covering half of the seated man's body.
"In fact, I did," Lloyd said. "There are many things you could learn."
"And now you're gonna lecture me on John 3:16 and the power of prayer and all that shit," James said with his eyes narrowing in a dangerous frustration. "You're just so righteous, aren't you?"
Lloyd felt a small vibration smack his heart. He frowned and heaved himself upward into a standing position; his back still slighted on the wall. He dusted off his pants and tensed up the muscles on his arms. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"You're one of those people that try to pray all your problems away," James spat out a mirth-soaked chuckle. A small spray of spittle popping off the tip of his tongue. "God is just a giant gum-ball machine to you. Just plug in a quarter, and he'll take care of everything."
"That's not it at all, James," Lloyd spoke in a deeper tone than normal. "What makes you think you know so much?"
"I know that bad shit happens to people all the time," James huffed with a wicked smirk. "And what does God do about it?"
"He gives us the power to do something about it," Lloyd responded. "The courage. The free will. The power."
"Oh, so God sent that asteroid that made quirks," James laughed. "Then that means he sent the villains they're powers, too. Whose to say he doesn't want them to win?"
Lloyd clasped at the cross around his neck. "It's not up for him to decide winners and losers. We do that through his power here on Earth. And when we die, we are judged for eternity by him. So, you better start acting better to the people around you. What you do now can decide your final judgement."
"As you can tell, you Canadian Mongoose," James said. "I don't have many fans in this class. And I don't need them. I'm going to be the greatest of all time, and maybe when your back in Canada directing moose traffic in the Yukon, you can think back to this moment and wonder who made the right decision."
"The decision to be a decent human being, or the decision to live in sin?"
"Yeah? Because sins are forever, right? There's no coming back from them. Oh, right," James snapped his fingers. "Unless I go to confession. Then, I can do whatever I want, right? Isn't that a 'get out of jail free' card? That's what your faith promises. As long as you go to Youth Group and sing songs and hold hands and talk about peace and loving everybody and putting a few bucks in the collection basket, you're ending up in Heaven, right? For that matter, maybe the praying doesn't even matter. Maybe it's just the donations. The moolah!" James finished by rubbing his thumb and finger together in the air. "Is that what you do?"
"Yes, I'm charitable. That's a good thing!"
"Maybe that's why Catholics feel so guilty all the time. You're not doing anything special. You're just buying your way into Heaven."
"I believe in God! I pray to him all the time!" Lloyd screamed.
"Liar."
Smack.
James grunted out and stumbled back from the smack on his face. His cheek emanated in pain, his jaw bruised and stinging from the impact. He grabbed the side of his face and shrunk back into a defensive turn of his torso. His face throbbed, a heartbeat that he felt thump in his palm as he nursed the impact zone.
James, for once in his life, was actually taken aback. The sudden outburst was miles away from the nearly playful attitude he had at antagonizing Lloyd. Antagonizing him was fun, but he considered that he had hit a soft spot that awakened his anger. Despite that, the last thing he expected from this stick in the mud was any sort of irrational response.
There eyes level, both of the boys now within a nose-length away from the other's face. Lloyd's yellow eyes scanned over James with an indignation he had never seen before. James's were still wide with surprise.
In between them, silence. A drip from the sink next to them. The rushing water from pipes in the ceiling above.
"I know myself," Lloyd spat out. "And I know people like you very well. Maybe you think my life was easy, and I guess it has been in the grand scheme. I've been healthy, and I have a family that has cared for me. Maybe you haven't, but that's a cross you have to bear. You've been given the gift of a strong quirk."
James took in a short puff of air. "I've been given some other shit, too."
"And I won't pretend to know what that is," Lloyd relaxed his shoulders and lowered his fists. "But everyone is given choices to make. The choice to be a hero or villain. To be civil or uncivil. To hurt or to heal. And it will be an everyday struggle."
"Struggle," James repeated. "Isn't the struggle of being a Pro-Hero enough?"
"It is," Lloyd said in a softer tone. "But we're supposed to shoulder the burden of so much more. And we have to ask ourselves if we are up to it. Are you?"
James nodded. As much as he hated to admit it, Lloyd had a point with some of what he said. Of course, the crux of his argument on faith was something that he refused to acquiesce. However, peering at the red-headed Canadian before him, he seemed like a person who tried his best to live his life on his terms. He could at least respect that this manatee believed in something, even if it was nothing more than fables and stories.
With a slight hiss, James let go of his bruised cheek and wiped away a small bead of blood that dotted a sliver of a cut in his otherwise flawless face. His black hair mussed up, he clenched his fist and breathed out a heavy sigh.
"You hit me," James said.
"And for that," Lloyd shrugged off the jacket on his school uniform. "I apologize. However, I feel that for a person like yourself, that won't suffice. So...let's just get this over with."
James blinked. "Huh?"
Lloyd unknotted his tie and cast it to the side. He rolled up the sleeves on his white dress shirt. "No quirks. And no pulling of the hair. First to tap out or pin the other down wins. Any rules for yourself?"
The lightbulb ignited in James's head. His arms dropped down to his side, his mouth slightly agape. "Are you...wanting to fight?"
"Like I said," Lloyd put his hands up and aimed his fists towards James. "I apologized, but that won't be enough. You'll want revenge, so let's just handle this now and move on."
"Uh...no nutshots?" James asked in hesitation. "And no spitting. I don't wanna get SARS or whatever they get sick from up in Canada."
"Deal," Lloyd said as he tightened up his body for the fight. "Now let's hurry. It will be awkward if they unlock the door in the middle of this."
James, in disbelief, looked at the surprisingly intimidating boy before him challenging him to a fight. Of course, Lloyd was completely correct that he would want to punch him after getting hit. However, he probably would have reserved any revenge for the battle field or the next class challenge. A street brawl in the Void Industries bathroom was the last thing he would predict Lloyd would approve.
And yet, he could not help the bright grin on his face.
"You're finally speaking my language, manatee."
"Unbelievable," Robyn cried out in ecstasy. "A machine that shows programs that render any person that views it completely dumb and immobile! It's the perfect torture device."
"No, Robyn," Martel explained as he spied into the room of lab technicians seated in front of a television. "That's the break room, and the television is showing CNN."
"Like I said. The perfect torture device!"
After thirty minutes of exploring every single lab room in the long hallway, Don had enough. These kids were annoying and wasting his time. All he wanted to do was focus on the mission and get them into the trap that was the end of the hall. At this rate, they were only halfway through seeing all of the inventions on this floor, and he needed to hurry up before Fyodor and Edith were finished with their end of the bargain.
"That's enough!" Don shouted. "You all are putting us behind schedule! We need to get to the demonstration room right now!"
Just as he shouted, a loud bang from beyond the metal door. The entire class perked up at the end. Even some of the technicians in the break room had to peek over their shoulders towards the source of the noise.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang!
Then, silence.
Martel blinked and took a calm step towards the metal door. He knew that the steel alloy doors at the end of the floors were used for mainly dangerous or extremely secret experiments. He found it odd that his mother would approve their viewing of anything like that on a class field trip. He stepped closer towards the door, wondering if it was safe for him to get any closer.
In fact, the whole pretense of the field trip had made him uneasy from the start. His mother would never schedule a trip so recently. He remembered when the private school he went to before he became homeschooled asked to have a tour of the facility. It took five months for every person to be approved the proper security clearances. Not only that, but some students still could not come from various personal relationships that made their viewing of the facility troubling.
Martel had texted his mother and called, but she had not said a word to him this entire time. Even during the past few months of preparing for USAHS, he had hardly seen or heard from her. She had seemed to be the normal confident and headstrong woman, but something seemed to be distracting her, and he wanted to know what it was.
Then, the door opened.
"Privyet, Class 1-A," An intimidating man about Martel's age loomed out of the crack in the door, but much more mature in his posture and in his facial features. "My name is Fyodor Ivanovich, and if you are searching for the truth, then please come forward."
Martel could already sense that this man was bad news. Based off his light sneer and the raggedy overcoat, he began to piece together that something was about to happen to his new class.
With a flick of his wrist, he reached down into his void space and spun back towards Don.
"Who are you people?" Martel asked.
"Wouldn't you like to know, bitch," Don dropped the act and ripped off his grey moustache.
Moxie gasped. "Oh my God! You're the guy I ran over!"
"And you're the girl that shot my boss!" Cletus yelled.
"You two know each other?" Hunter asked.
"You know what," Cletus said. "Screw this." He reached down to his hip and flashed a Glock that he was just about to pull. He snagged it from his waistband and lifted up the firearm towards Moxie.
At that point, Martel reached into his space and grabbed the handle of his own weapon. With a quick hiss, he pulled it out and pointed it right at Cletus.
Blam!
Edith Void-Xekless (Voiced by Cate Blanchett)
Thank you so much people! More content! Hope you enjoy.
Make sure you keep reviewing! Keep suggestion! Keep submitting, and keep making art! I love it to no end, and I'm so glad to have the best and most dedicated OC creators imaginable.
Now, things are beginning to happen. Bit of a cliffhanger, but I bet you like that. Tell me what you think about what's going on? What will happen? What do you want to happen? What don't you? I'm open to all suggestions!
Finally, enjoy the cover art! By the same artist as last time, it is Lloyd Thomas! I think it's hilarious how badass Lloyd looks, yet he is so not that! Enjoy, everyone! Tell me what you think, and thank the incredible artist!
Thank you. See you soon!