"We have an emergency situation developing."
Pedro glanced up at the speaker near the ceiling in surprise at the voice interrupted the silence of the meal. Around him, the dining room in the Mansion was almost deserted – most of those staying at the Mansion had gone out for the day; at the moment, almost no one was left in the Mansion to hear the warning. John looked around, his brows furrowed, eyeing the speaker suspiciously. On the far side of the table Jalil glanced over at Pedro and raised an eyebrow dubiously. "What's the situation?" Pedro asked the speaker mounted in one corner of the room.
Max's voice returned almost immediately. "A masked figure appeared in Nantes – he appears to be wielding a polearm and threatening bystanders."
Pedro sighed heavily. "I take it they called us because the guy has a spear and a mask?"
"That would be correct."
"Any superpowers?" asked Jalil, his voice modulating slightly.
"Negative," Max replied. "Or at least – none that they have identified. We need someone to investigate and determine if there are any superpowers involved."
"Fine." Pedro shrugged noncommittally, giving John an evaluating look. "Jalil and I can check it out – just in case there is something serious happening there. But if we run into trouble…"
"I already have a message out to the rest of the Heroes of Paris," Max assured them. "Once we know the situation, I will send reinforcements as needed."
Pedro chuckled. "We'll hold you to it."
Four minutes later, Amun-Vatar and the Heretic arrived on the headquarters level, the elevator shaft vanishing into the ground at their feet to allow them out. Pegasus already stood a few meters from them, his hand swirling with barely-restrained power. He tossed a box to them and started to open the portal. "I will place you at the edge of the plaza in which the situation is occurring," he informed them. "Stay in contact at all times."
"Will do," the Heretic promised, nodding. He gave his staff a testing spin and braced it against the back of his arm, his eyes setting in concentration. Beside him, Amun-Vatar's eyes and the area around them flashed gold and morphed their shape slightly.
"Voyage!"
Jumping through the portal as it formed, the Heretic braced his knees just before he landed on the cobblestone street, looking around cautiously. Behind him, Amun-Vatar hung back slightly, giving the portal itself another quick glance as it closed with a whoosh. Around them, the street seemed largely deserted – looking closer, the Heretic realized that they were not on a major street but rather partway down a narrow alleyway. At the end of the alleyway, he could see into the street beyond, where a handful of people all seemed to be staring at something just out of sight. A murmur of voices could be heard from the gathering crowd. Someone glanced in the direction of the alleyway, and their eyes widened in surprise on spotting the Heretic and Amun-Vatar. A finger pointed in their direction, and the Heretic groaned, jogging toward that end of the alleyway. Behind him, he could hear the footfalls of Amun-Vatar, which stopped after a moment as a gust of wind rushed past the Heretic toward Amun-Vatar. A golden glow illuminated the walls to either side of the Heretic, and his hair blew to one side.
At the end of the alleyway, three or four people stood with their eyes wide, looking at the two heroes in surprise as they approached. The Heretic held up a hand in a calming gesture. "W–who are you?" one of the people gasped as they reached the main street. His eyes trailed past the Heretic, up to where Amun-Vatar hovered three meters in the air.
"We are with the Heroes of Paris," the Heretic explained. "We heard you had some… issues?" Mutely, the person pointed to the right. Looking in that direction, the Heretic craned his neck to see over the crowd.
"I see… two people," called Amun-Vatar, propelling himself higher into the air. "One is on the ground; the other…" He paused. "He's holding that weapon against the man's throat!"
The Heretic's eyes widened. "Make a path!" he shouted to the crowd in front of them. Surprised, people lunged out of their way, clearing space for the Heretic to charge past them, Amun-Vatar hovering directly behind him. As people made space, he scanned the area in front of them carefully, alert for any indication of the villain they had come to confront. Running past the civilians, he caught glimpses of the surprise on their faces – several cheered and called out their names. The Heretic nearly tripped the first time someone shouted his name – when had he ever been welcomed and accepted in that way before? He had been a member of the Heroes of Paris for over a year now; the Heroes of Paris had accepted him with open arms. And yet, the people of Paris only ever seemed to recognize Ladybug and Cat Noir; the rest of the heroes were little more than faces in the crowd, it seemed. But for some reason, people here seemed to recognize him – him and Amun-Vatar.
It… felt nice. To be recognized as a hero.
The last group of people cleared out in front of the Heretic, and he burst through the crowd – and nearly ran straight into a police barricade. The police officer standing behind it turned and started to open his mouth, only for his jaw to fall open and his eyes to widen. "You can't – wait," he stuttered. "You're the Heroes of Paris, aren't you?"
The Heretic nodded curtly. "Heretic. Amun-Vatar. We're here because you have a… 'situation' going on?"
The officer shrugged. "Not much of one," he began slowly. "The first calls came in about twenty minutes ago – all confused, no idea what was really happening. Best they could say was that the colorful guy had attacked the other guy."
"What have they done since you've been here?" asked Amun-Vatar, folding his arms. "Have they displayed any… abilities?"
"Not especially," the officer admitted. "But I only just arrived. They've really just been in that position for as long as I've been here." He nodded in the direction of the large statue near the middle of the cleared plaza, where the Heretic could just make out the figure of a man holding a large stick with a metal piece on one end, pointing the metal end at another man who lay back on the steps of the statue. The plaza itself had been deserted, apart from the two men. It was lined with a dozen businesses – restaurants, souvenir stores, clothing shops, pastries, even a couple small banks. Every entrance to the plaza had been cordoned off by police barricades similar to the one at which the Heretic and Amun-Vatar had been stopped.
The Heretic furrowed his brows in thought. "Have you tried talking to them?"
"My captain tried to make contact, but the one with the staff just shouted back that he 'had it under control'."
"That's an unusual response," Amun-Vatar mused, glancing over at the Heretic.
The Heretic nodded his agreement. "I guess we'd better check it out."
"Are–are you sure about that?" The officer gave them a dubious look.
The Heretic's mouth set in a thin line, and he nodded. "Yes. That's what we're here for, after all…"
Doubtfully, the officer nodded for them to pass the barricade before turning back to scan the scene – one eye on the plaza and another on the crowd pressing in closer to see what would happen.
"What is happening there?" asked Pegasus, his voice breaking the silence over their communicators.
"We're here," the Heretic reported. "Just found out from the police that they still don't know one way or the other if the guy has any superpowers. They haven't really tried to speak to him yet – I guess that's going to be our job."
"If you need backup, I have a group here ready to go."
"We will keep you appraised of the situation," Amun-Vatar assured him. "But for now…"
The Heretic jogged across the deserted plaza toward the two men, his eyes roaming across and around the area, searching for any other dangers. But the plaza itself remained deserted, without anyone to be seen apart from the police officers around the perimeter. His gaze focused on the man in front of him holding the large polearm. Large and well-muscled, wearing a padded bodysuit with red, white, and blue bars running across it horizontally. The polearm he wielded, the metal top on it had a very distinct shape – something that resonated with the Heretic though he couldn't quite place it. "Jalil?" he muttered under his breath. "Do you recognize the weapon he's carrying?"
Amun-Vatar hummed pensively. "I… do n – wait." He cocked his head to one side. "Yes, actually. It is the… Cross of Lorraine?" He hummed. "You can tell by the second, smaller crossbar at the top," he explained. "It is a symbol of France."
"And this guy is carrying it as a polearm?"
Amun-Vatar shrugged. "Why not? Taureau Dechaine has a cattle prod. Viperion has a lyre. Why shouldn't this man have a unique weapon?"
"Miraculous?" The Heretic quirked an eyebrow at him doubtfully. "I think I would recognize if it were a miraculous…"
"Perhaps…" Amun-Vatar hummed.
The Heretic furrowed his brows intently. "I don't know what it is, but something about the Cross of Lorraine polearm feels familiar…" Sighing, he approached the two men, stopping just behind the one with the polearm.
"You will tell me exactly what I want to know," the man growled, glaring down at the man he had pinned, pressing the tip of the cross to the man's throat.
"Or what?" the other man demanded, leaning forward slightly and spitting up at him.
"Don't make me show you…" he warned.
"Actually," the Heretic interjected, his grip tightening on his staff as he spun it out in front of himself in a defensive stance, "I was going to ask the same question."
The man spun around, his eyes wide, and almost immediately dropped into a defensive posture, pointing the tip of his cross at the Heretic. Before he could attack, however, he looked at the Heretic more closely, and his eyes widened in shock. "Wait – Heroes of Paris?" he gasped, his gaze alternating between the Heretic and Amun-Vatar. He placed the end of his polearm on the ground and leaned against it. "This will make things so much easier!"
The Heretic blinked. "I'm sorry… what is going on here?"
The man's jaw clenched. "I found this man trying to rob that ATM on the other side of the plaza," he informed them. "I confronted him, and he tried to flee. Consequently, I stopped him and pinned him here."
"He's lying!" spat the man under his foot. The man glared back at him in annoyance.
Why do you have him here?" demanded Amun-Vatar. "Why not turn him over to the police?"
"He has information I need," the man informed them. "I have been trying to track down a group of petty criminals – hardly a threat but for their leader, a charismatic individual who can convince them to do almost anything. I need to get to the leader and put a stop to him."
"Bullshit!" growled the other man, glaring angrily at the one with the polearm.
The Heretic raised an eyebrow. "Are we supposed to just take you at your word when you say that you are trying to stop a group of criminals?"
The man's eyes widened. "That is what I'm here to do!" he insisted. "He was trying to rob that ATM, but I stopped him! I'm a hero!"
"I want to believe you," the Heretic told him. "But how do I believe you?"
The man let out a breath, then his eyes widened. "His kit! He had a burglar's kit – over by the ATM. It will show you I'm telling the truth."
The Heretic frowned and glanced over at Amun-Vatar. Shrugging, Amun-Vatar drifted over to the indicated ATM and returned quickly with the items. The Heretic scanned through the back quickly but he came to a card scanner. Holding it up, he told the other man, "What is this?"
Finally, the man sighed, his shoulders slumping. The Heretic shared a look with Amun-Vatar and waved the police toward them. Handing the other man over to the police, the one with the cross let out a relieved breath. "Thank you for believing me."
"What's your name?"
"You may call me, Tricolor."