When the door slid open, Anton gasped.
The entire room consisted of stainless steel flooring that gleamed under the bright tungsten lights that burned in the rafters above. In fact, the room was more like a warehouse with a cavernous reach that the concrete ceiling hiding the church above made Anton seem as small as a mouse. Giant marble pillars towered above like the large redwood trees in the northern part of the state. Long workbenches, also a sparkling steel, ran around the perimeters of the warehouse. In the open space that seemed to stretch as far as the ocean, different luxury vehicles and gadgets were lined up and prepared for action with the smell of humidity and motor oil making Anton's nose wrinkle.
The boy, in shock, was pushed forward by Megan as they entered the space. A few workers in white lab coats circled around their own projects with the whizzing of air wrenches and the occasional smattering of nuts and bolts drizzling the concrete floor tickling Anton's ears. He paced through the room, his eyes wandering over the different cars and inventions that seemed to captivate his imagination. There was an Aston Martin next to what appeared to be a leaf blower with red rockets taped to either side. Next to a pillar by a giant television screen that stretched over the entirety of the wall to the right, a tank appeared with a smoking barrel as if it had just discharged.
On the screen, the entire Earth was shown with different red dots in various places. However, he noticed that California was encircled in a yellow border drawing attention to the zone.
With another push, Anton cried out as he lost his balance. He fell on top of a smaller workbench that happened to be right in his path. He seethed at the sting when his elbows collided with the edge of the bench.
"Excuse you," A female voice said.
Anton lifted his head up. Across from the bench was a woman not much older than him. With her thick strands of pink hair raining down her face like clumps of fettuccine, her bronze eyes had a strange crosshairs pattern in the center of her pupils that unsettled Anton and made the meager hairs on his arms stand up. The girl adjusted her red goggles which had some time of tubing that ran around her face like some strange steampunk costume.
"You almost hit my End-The-World-inator," the girl said. "You know what would happen if you hit the red button here?"
The girl pointed down at a device. It was nothing but a regular alarm clock with a conspicuous scarlet button placed on the top with duck tape.
"Watch where you put that thing," Anton said in an annoyed voice. "It's not my fault the table is in the middle of the room."
"Miss Hatsume, can you give us a second please," Father Enzo, who had been creeping behind Megan and Anton, clapped a hand on Anton's shoulder.
Mei Hatsume smiled at the old man and snapped her fingers. "That reminds me, Father Enzo! We have a good lead on one of the pages. And you'll never guess where it-."
"I already know, Mei," Father Enzo ruffled Anton's black hair which made the boy brush away his hand. "Thi boy is going to help us get it."
Mei frowned and threw on her goggles. She pressed a button on the side which caused the lenses to obscure her eyes and turn a solid red. A few gears whirred. and the lenses shifted like a microscope examining a lesser powerful specimen.
"Let's see," Mei said as her head orbited the boy. She sashayed around him with the occasional poke and prod of her finger into a joint of his bone. Anton hopped up in surprise at the random jabbing. "Sixteen year old. Male. Kinda scrawny and very short."
"Excuse you," Anton swatted away one of her fingers that poked at his cheek.
"Interesting quirk, though," Mei said as she peered into Anton's eyes. "A strange virus-like substance lives inside him."
Hey sexy lady. Sup!
"Oh, and I just heard him speak," Mei shouted in ecstasy. "He sounds extremely annoying, however."
"Try living with him," Anton frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets. His brows furrowed, and his shoulders bucked up in a clear display that his patience was wearing thin with this strange charade.
Father Enzo noticed this and grabbed the boy by the shoulders. "Thank you, Miss Hatsume," he nodded at her and ushered Anton over towards a small shelf of books in the back of the room. Mei waved like an inflatable dummy in the front of a used car lot at the two.
"Good luck, Father! You two, Anton," Mei shouted.
The boy followed along as they came across what appeared to be an abandoned part of the large laboratory. The sound of tested inventions and science babble from the other people in the lab grew muffled when the three huddled at the end of the room. On the very back wall in the corner covered in thick cobwebs, Father Enzo reached out and grabbed a book. He pulled one of them down and gave it to Megan. The girl cracked it open, bits of dust flying off and scratching at Anton's nose, and flipped towards the center of the thick text.
"Many think of The Salton Sea Scrolls as a fable," Father Enzo said. "A strange curiosity that only a few have ever bothered with."
"Bam!" Megan held out the book in Anton's face. The boy sneezed at the plume of dust that sprinkled on the bridge of his nose. When his eyes watered, he swiped at them and stared at the page in question. It was a list of dates that were typed in red.
"Almost every major world event in the past hundred years," Father Enzo grabbed the book and pointed at the dates on the page. "Ever since that comet gave the world powers. I was a mere young adult in seminary."
"The big Earthquake by the Tar Pits," Megan pointed at one of the dates. "Right there,"
"Stock market crash fifty years ago," Father Enzo underlined one of the dates at the bottom.
"All Might defeating One For All," Megan said.
"Deku defeating the number one villain in Japan," Father Enzo chimed in.
"That weird purple guy who tried to kill off half the universe."
"Schwarzenegger's third term as governor."
"Schwarzenegger's first term as president."
"But most importantly," Father Enzo skid his fingers over one of the dates at the bottom of the page. "The opening of your school. The book has predicted all of these major events."
Anton switched his gaze from Megan to the older priest. His eyes widened at the crazy talk he was witnessing.
"If you notice at the bottom of this page," Megan circled the final grouping of dates. "The dates of importance get closer and closer. We feel that there is a significance to that. Unfortunately," Megan turned the page to reveal the bronze back cover of the book. "Three pages are missing."
"We need to find the missing three pages," Father Enzo placed his hand on Anton's shoulder. "We think these three pages tell us a very important final date."
Anton blinked, not even concerned about the old man's hand on his shoulder. "And what would that be?"
"The end of the world. How it will happen. Who will cause it. When," Father Enzo pale blue eyes bore deep into Anton's soul. "Most importantly, we believe it will tell us how to prevent it. The Bible states that no man will no the true time or place of the world's end. Therefore, if we were sent these scrolls to know the right date, it can't be the end. Not if we can know how to put a stop to it."
"Either that, or the big man in the sky is lying," Megan snapped the book shut and sat herself on the workbench in front of the shelves. "So, you get the picture?"
"You people are insane," Anton raised up a fist and shook it at the two. "Megan, why are you apart of this? And why is this old guy running the operation? Doesn't the Catholic Church have better things to do like use donation basket money for vacations and host charity pancake breakfasts?"
"In fact, this is apart of the church's duty," Father Enzo said. He gestured out at the laboratory. "The Syndicate has been the science wing of our organization created by the Papacy of Pius XII. But it's objective is not just religious for the past hundred years. It's to make sure that the balance between the paganistic worship of any magical, but now mainly quirk powers and the Holy See's influence remain intact. That the true evil of this world is defeated but that the powerful become not overzealous with their strength. To make sure people still believe in our values. We help heroes in ways they least expect, and in ways that they never truly find out. Miracles, if you will."
"Every major hero and villain battle you've seen in the past century has involved the Syndicate," Megan explained. "Deku would have lost about seventy percent of his battles if he didn't have some boulder turn his way or some villain trip on a crack that wasn't there before."
Anton cleared his throat. He was having a hard time believing any of this as he wiped his brow of sweat. "Why involve this old man, though? Why a priest? The Church?"
"The Church has special methods for keeping these things secret," Father Enzo flashed a mischievous grin. "Imagine if this was run by the government. Surely, some whistleblower would have made it know at some point. With the Covenant of God's trust, however, we can spend billions in funding and thousands of workers to do His bidding at any place in the world at any given time without worrying about others spilling the beans. Even if they did, nobody would believe them."
"Also, if we filed as religious, we don't have to pay taxes," Megan said. "IRS rules."
Anton huffed and crossed his arms. "Great. So I guess I'm now apart of this stupid thing, aren't I?"
"Well, if you said no," Megan pulled out what looked like a silver gun. It had a point on the end of it's barrel as sharp as a diamond's edge. A laser came out of the point and landed squarely on Anton's face. "We have methods to make you forget."
Anton gulped and placed his hands up in front of his chest in a defensive move. As insane as these people were, he knew they had to mean business. However, he was slightly terrified at having to be apart of something like this. He was still getting over the fact that Megan was working with some underground business that meddled in hero affairs. Despite that, he preferred his own self-preservation to others, and he was very close to leaving out of the room and running a brief flash, he thought that this hero stuff was just not for him, and maybe he would be better off being beaten up by his brother in that shoddy New York apartment in the projects. Maybe there was a bus to the desert he could take and live out his days in some former meth lab trailer.
Wait.
The desert.
Just then, a flash in front of Anton.
A strange shack in the middle of nowhere.
A dark door.
A page of the scrolls right before him.
For some reason, Anton nodded at the familiarity of the concept. It was almost like he had already seen these pages before. He already knew what they looked like and what language they would be in. A dream? A memory? He had no idea.
Yes, this was something he had to do.
For some reason, the word "destiny" crawled into his mind and melded itself into his being. He never wanted to be anything special, yet...
He had a feeling he had to be.
"Okay, I don't want to do any of this shit," Anton said. "But...what do you all want from me?"
Father Enzo smiled. Megan put away her gun.
Moxie had to admit that Steve made a great cup of tea.
The girl sniffled again with a tear dripping into the center fo the steaming cup of green tea. The ripples encircled the bags of tea that absorbed the water and effused the flavor of the tea leaves. She swirled a mother-of-pearl spoon around the center with a rapid flourish. A drip of honey that she dumped into the tea swirled in a small golden twister in the center of the dark mint liquid.
She sat at the yellow marble counter in Steve's kitchen. The older man rummaged around his drawer. Utensils clanged off each other while Moxie cringed in the background from the noise of squeaking metal crashing into each other. Rain pattered in the glass sliding door leading to the pool in the backyard outside. A dim light swung overhead giving the room harsh shadows not unlike an interrogation room. The wooden cupboards and drawers in the shabby old kitchen only added to the feeling of being put on the spot.
"I only have peppermint, if you want any more," Steve said as he placed two more bags on the counter. "Haven't have guests over since Sandler asked me to be in Grown Ups Five."
Moxie plastered on a tight smile. "No trouble at all. Thanks, sir."
Steve sighed and leaned on the counter with his bony elbow placed on one of the orange mats on the counter. "So are you just doing this to impress some boy?"
Moxie choked on her tea and set down her porcelain mug on the counter. She coughed out some of the hot liquid and thumped at her chest. "Goodness, no! It has nothing to do bout nobody but Shoto."
"Moxie, even I've seen it in my few trips to the school," Steve chuckled. "That Katsu kid is completely into you. The way he smiles at you. How he looks at you."
"Have you been spying on me?" Moxie said.
"I have to keep track of that crystal," Steve pointed at the ruby around Moxie's chest. "And also, I'm one of the biggest donors at the school. And I'm the part-time lunch lady. I deserve to be in the loop also."
"No, no," Moxie shook her head. "I mean, I like Katsu. But...not like that! I think he's a sweetheart, but...I'm not right for him. Also, daddy would kill me and then kill the boy if I was in anything like that till I'm eighteen."
Steve sighed and rubbed his cheek. "Look, Moxie," Steve said. "I think you're worrying a little too much. I haven't known him that long, but Shoto doesn't seem like the guy that would-."
"But you don't know that," Moxie pointed at Steve. "Nobody knows that."
"But Shoto is a Pro-Hero," Steve said. "He's dealt with a lot of stuff before and gotten through it."
"This is different," Moxie said. "I know it."
"How?"
Moxie stared down at her tea. She swirled the spoon again in her mug with the noise slow and piercing the pattering of the rain on the glass windows.
"My momma killed herself."
Steve stood up straight and looked down at Moxie with slanted eyes. He waited in silence as the girl swirled her spoon again.
"You don't have to share if you don't want to."
"No, it's...it's good for me," Moxie said. Her hand froze as she brought up old memories. Her face reflected and obscured in the tea, she kept her eyes glued on it as she spoke. "Nothing like cancer, as far as I know. My momma and daddy had tough times. Daddy was no help, getting drunk all the time. So...she left. Went with her new boyfriend in Biloxi. And when daddy bought me that car outside," Moxie gestured towards the front door. "First trip I took was down to see her. And when I got to the door...he answered. Nice guy, though. Fisherman."
"And what happened?"
Moxie sucked in a harsh breath like she had just been stabbed by a sword. "He didn't have to say nothing. Just put her old crucifix in my hand." Moxie grabbed the silver cross around her chest and held it up towards Steve. "She even told me one time she'd never take it off unless God himself pulled her away from it. And that he did."
"That's a burden to carry, isn't it?"
Moxie nodded. "It just hurts cause my whole life, I've looked up to momma and daddy for what to do and when. But the past couple years, it's like they don't know nothing. No more than I do. And I bet there lotsa adults who are even worse."
Steve leaned back onto the stove and placed his hands in his pockets. "Moxie, if you're trying to make up for something like that, you don't need to. You didn't make that happen."
"I'm not guilty," Moxie said. "It wasn't my fault or nothing. I just don't want that to happen to anyone else. And when James said what he said to me...I guess it just kinda hit me."
"Actually, you hit him," Steve said. "Just saying."
Moxie spat out a loud chuckle. "Guess I did. Pretty good, if I say so myself. He might even get a black eye!"
"Gonna look pretty dumb at the sports festival tomorrow," Steve giggled.
They both shared the laugh and then subsided to the sound of the rain outdoors. Moxie got control of herself and bit at her lip. She drew a quick sip of the green tea. The hot liquid massaged her insides as he nerves warmed up. Her muscles loosened up as she peered at the window outside to see the loud droplets smack and glue themselves to the windows.
"Well," Steve said. He clapped his hands. "There's no way you get to the Redwoods and back driving before the festival. But if you really want to at least get there as soon as possible...I can help. But...it's kinda experimental."
Moxie hummed in confusion.
"But you gotta go after her!"
James was about to punt the annoying kid into the ocean. For the past hour, he hard heard nothing but whining from Blake as the boy followed him around the Boys' Dorms. He had tried to cajole James into going after Moxie and keeping her at the school. Instead, he had let her go off on her own.
"No, I don't," James grunted as he chewed on a hot dog. They were both in the kitchen area in the basement. "It's not my problem."
"But she won't be here for the festival tomorrow," Blake complained. He leaned towards the taller boy who sat on the counter and munched away at his processed meat.
"Less competition," James said. "Although, she wouldn't be much of a concern to me. I'd beat her in a one-on-one in a heartbeat."
"You know what I hate," Blake frowned and balled up his fists. "A friend that won't be loyal. That's what I hate."
James scoffed and set down his hot dog on a paper plate next to him. "I'm not friends with anybody here."
Without another word, Blake rushed over to a drawer underneath the stainless steel sink and thrust it open. He rummaged through the drawer and came across a large butcher's knife. He pulled it out and held the point right up to his wrist. He placed his hand on the table and hung the knife above like a pendulum about to swipe of someone's head.
"If you don't go after her, I'm stabbing myself." Blake said.
James, aware of Blake's quirk, narrowed his eyes. "You would seriously cause yourself that pain?"
"I would cause you the pain," Blake said. "Besides, it wouldn't be fair if she weren't there, right? If Moxie weren't there, you wouldn't have beaten everybody."
James quirked his eyebrow and landed on his feet on the linoleum floor. "Huh?"
Blake nodded and dug the point of the knife into his wrist. James gasped as he felt a small prick at the base of his wrist. He grabbed it and flexed the appendage trying to shake off the strange sensation.
"Stop that," James shouted. "You can't use your quirk on me outside of class!"
"Or what?" Blake smirked. "You'll tell?"
He dug the blade further in. A spurt of dark scarlet blood leaked out of the wound. James grunted out again as the invisible blade cut into him. He stared down at his wrist and saw no physical damage. He tried to control his breathing and told himself that this was all psychological and not real.
"You're quirk isn't real," James said. "You're not really stabbing me. There's no knife on me."
"Oh, really,"
Spurt.
"Ah, fuck," James shouted. Blake had dug the knife further in. It was now just about to graze the nerves deep into his skin. The pressure around the invisible wound area built harder as a throbbing began to burst up his right arm.
"You said things you shouldn't have said, James," Blake chuckled at the blade now almost halfway in his wrist. His knuckles were stark white, clutching the black handle of the knife as his grip shook the knife on it's pivot point. "And now you get to pay."
James squeezed his hand around the wrist and tried to steady his arm. However, his limb shook with uncontrollable pain as it spasmed out from his grasp. "S-stop it!"
"Why did you say those things, James? What did Moxie do to you?"
"What do you care, you toucan?"
Dig.
"Ah!" James thumped his head on the microwave hanging above the stove. He knocked the hot dog off the plate. It splattered on the ground with mustard coating the impact spot. Yellow sauce oozed on the linoleum tile as James hit his skull again on the appliance.
"What is wrong with you?" James asked. "What kind of quirk does this?"
"Why did you say all that to Moxie?" Blake asked.
"Because I hate her."
Dig.
"Aw," James shouted. "Because I wanted her to get over that Todoroki guy."
"Why?"
"Because she annoys me."
Dig.
"Ow! Because I want her at the festival tomorrow."
"Why?"
"Because I want her to succeed! I want her to do good and not be stuck with all of you losers."
"Liar. Why do you care so much?" Blake asked with the creepy grin etched into his face. "Be honest, James!"
"I don't care! I just don't want our class embarrassed!"
Dig.
This time, Blake did hit a nerve.
A fire splint James' arm from his wrist. The boy cried out and fell onto his back from the pain. His arm was on fire with rows of carpet ants eating awya at his flesh. His arms shook as he gripped one of the steel handles on the stove. The stove opened with James hanging onto the handle like it was a life raft and he was lost at sea in the storm blowing outside the school.
"Please," James said. "No more. Please, I told you what I know, you dumb manatee."
Blake chuckled. "Wow, didn't think you would say please. Since you asked so nicely."
Blake pulled away his quirk. James gasped for air as his arm throbbed from the memory of the pain. He rolled on the floor and clutched his wrist. He looked at it and noticed it was immaculate as ever. His heart thumped through his chest like an earthquake wracking the San Andreas fault line while his muscles relaxed form the remnants of the stab.
Blake pulled the knife out and grabbed a paper towel. It was immediately drenched in bright ruby liquid as he wrapped it around his wrist. He grabbed a roll of duct tape in the drawer and rolled it around in a makeshift bandage. He knew it would heal in just a few hours, but the pain paled next to the satisfaction at seeing James on the floor in desperation. The boy smirked, trudging over to James on the floor.
Above James, his head obscured the fluorescent light above with a cheeky grin on his face. James tried to slow his breathing as the boy stared down at him.
"So, what's the real reason?" Blake asked. "Why you said those things to her."
James, hesitant at the idea of another stab, cleared his throat. "I...I think...I feel different about her. Different than about the others."
Blake chuckled. "So...how are you gonna make up for it? How are you going to get her back?"
James swallowed and laid there for a few seconds. He knew exactly what he had to do. it was going to be humbling, but he had no better idea to get to Moxie before the festival.
Knock knock.
When the door opened, Drake stood less than impressed. His hair pointer and messier than a cactus plant, he rubbed gook out of his eyes and glared at James.
"Hey, Alaskan Dragon."
"It's four in the morning. What do you want?" Drake said in a matter-of-fact voice.
James crossed his arms and kept his gaze down at his shoes. "Can you...help me? Please?"
Thank you so much for sticking around.
I haven't said much lately because I felt there was no need. Just know that I am grateful for each and every one of you. I hope you keep reviewing and writing!
What will happen next? What do you think will happen? What do you want to happen?
Tell me all! Review!
Thank you. See you soon!