They looked human, but they weren't really human.
They were aliens in human suits, and God only knew what their true plans were.
Fate couldn't stand the darkness. She paced back and forth aimlessly within the confines of the damp dark cell, trying to ignore her aching stomach and the terror of not knowing when they would come for her next. The barely-lit chamber they had trapped her in was like an ancient prison but with bare metallic walls. There were no bars in front of her, only slick clear glass; the transparency taunting her constantly with the notion that she could at any second escape and walk straight through.
To the left, she could hear someone moaning. It was their latest captive, the one they called "The Fugitive". She could barely see anything in the pale darkness. He was moaning and every now and then he would cough, however weakly, and then begin moaning again. He was in pain, but he was not allowed relief as part of his punishment. Several times she'd tried to communicate with him telepathically in the hopes that he would respond. She received only visual impressions of unsettling images: one of them being his arrest on what appeared to be the surface of a moon. It looked familiar, this moon. Fate knew that if she was lucky, it would be Earth's moon. If it was the Earth's moon, then this prisoner could possibly understand her plight—if only she could reach him.
There was a sickly-sour smell in the air that she had recognized the moment they had thrown him in the cell. It was similar to the smell of oxidized copper, and Fate had known immediately that this unfortunate prisoner was suffering from Big Bismuth poisoning. She'd witnessed it before: it was a nasty substance that wreaked havoc on the brain and nervous system, causing delirium, nausea, and if it got worse enough, seizures. She feared that if he didn't receive medical attention soon he might die—but she knew that since he was their captive, he could have extra-sensory abilities that would prevent that from happening. These aliens seemed to thrive on feeding on others' superhuman strength and technology.
She couldn't tell if he was aware of his surroundings, and she knew she'd get in trouble if she called out to him. Thankfully, Fate also possessed the ability to telepathically communicate. Several times throughout the night she attempted to send signals, but without response. The only sound other than painful coughing and wheezing she could hear was one word she could barely make out: the name "Arthur".
Who was this Arthur? Each time he called the name out, as weak as he was, she could sense the urgency and despondency. Fate struggled to tune into the connection between them, but with little success; sadly, the entire ship was made with Bismuth, which transmuted any communication with the outside, rendering telepathy a useless mode of rescue.
If only she could hear from Destiny….
...then there was always a chance they could be saved.
Dot wasn't so sure about this woman who called herself Destiny. She clearly had some strange hold on her brother and the last thing she wanted was someone messing with her brother's potentially fragile psyche. So she wasn't too pleased about the idea of Arthur speaking with this woman alone. The Tick, on the other hand, seemed completely fine with the idea—but of course, he wasn't exactly known for being an expert of reason.
"Dot…" Arthur was waiting expectantly, watching her anxiously. "...Please?"
"Okay," Dot grunted, reluctantly pushing up from the seat with a huff, making sure he knew how much she was opposed to the whole situation. "But I swear if your headache gets any worse at all because of—"
"DOT!" Arthur hissed urgently. "Please! I'll be done in like, just a second! Can you just—" He pursed his lips, trying to avoid yelling and attracting the attention of the nurse. "-leave?" His eyes automatically locked in place, and upon seeing her pain, he looked away. He hadn't wanted to hurt her feelings, but sometimes Dot didn't seem to understand that he wasn't a lost little kid anymore. He had his own life, and his own people in it, and while he knew she still thought of him as the helpless younger brother, he was also, technically, a superhero now (even if he did seem kind of pathetic at the moment). He knew he was being a little harsh, but he could only hope she'd understand eventually that sometimes he needed space.
"...Fine," Dot said quietly. She swung around abruptly and left without saying goodbye. It stung, but it was necessary—Arthur knew she'd eventually get over it, as would he—he'd have to do something sweet to make it up to her later, he told himself. It was only right.
"That was a little intense, Chum." The Tick was watching Arthur with observant curiosity.
"Yeah—I know," Arthur muttered, trying to ignore the guilt that kept creeping in. "Look—can you go after her? Make sure—she gets home okay?" He knew it sounded lame, but it was the only way to get the Tick out of the room, because he didn't want to upset him either.
"Sure Arthur." The Tick paused for a moment in the doorway. "Are you sure you don't want—"
"He's fine, Tick," Destiny cut in. "Come back in a few—you'll know when we're done," she added mysteriously, with a mischievous wink at Arthur, who felt himself finally begin to relax a little and smiled in return.
"Whatever you say, m'Lady," the Tick bowed at her before leaving—and Arthur was relieved to hear him sounding a little bit more like his 'old self', in spite of the news he'd received at the church.
"So…" Destiny turned towards Arthur in the semi-privacy of the curtain-contained space. "Tell me about this vision—and what does it have to do with Superian?"
"Wait—!" Arthur gaped at Destiny. "-How did you—" He shook his head, suddenly realizing he already knew the answer. "Nevermind—I get it—it's because of 'the Gift'," he replied, "right?"
Destiny's eyes brightened in response. "Now you're catching on!"' she exclaimed. "Now—I know something happened after your headache…when you were unconscious." She leaned forward so that Arthur would only have to whisper. "...what is it?"
Arthur winced. The pain in his head had gradually subsided, and while it was a relief, his head still felt like it was swimming in its own soup. "...it's…not really clear," he allowed hesitantly, "but…It's like…Superian was…trying to reach me…you know? But…but he couldn't say anything and—and neither could I."
"Could you see him?" Destiny closed her eyes as though trying to envision him herself.
"...yes," Arthur confessed, "I think so—but—he didn't seem like—like himself."
"What do you mean?" Destiny still didn't open her eyes.
"He…had tape over his mouth and, uh…I think—I think he was scared," Arthur stammered. It hurt to think of Superian afraid of anything, and it hurt even more that he couldn't do anything in that moment to help him.
"Did you hear anything strange? What else was around you?"
"No, nothing," Arthur allowed. "Just…an inky black void…." He shivered at the thought of it. "...What do you think it means?" he asked reluctantly. Reluctant because he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. "Why…why would Superian be…afraid?"
"Because," Destiny said (as she opened her eyes and stared soberly at him) "he's being held captive."
" 'Captive'?" Arthur almost choked. "Superian!? But that–that's just crazy," he sputtered, "Who—who would even try to take Superian captive—" He tried to ignore the sense of dread that was filling his gut, as he envisioned the showdown between Superian and the Terror.
Destiny responded in a voice almost monotone, as though she were in a trance: "An advanced alien race that is seeking to punish him for his crimes."
Her words froze Arthur in place and for a moment he could only stare. " 'Crimes'?" he echoed incredulously. "Superian? You know who we're talking about right?" he almost laughed, however nervously, "Superian wouldn't hurt a fly—"
"Arthur…" Destiny opened her eyes again. "Do you know why Superian came to Earth in the first place?"
"...Um…the Tunguska Event," Arthur replied, trying to ignore his growing uncertainty, "It happened in the year uh...1908...in Russia...right? They…they thought originally it was an asteroid that hit Earth and caused the explosion but—when really, it was an alien spaceship—correct? It was the same one that brought Superian to Earth—?"
"Superian wasn't just brought to Earth," replied Destiny, "he was sent here to quarantine—for his own safety. He was brought here to avoid punishment by an advanced civilization—"
"Come on." Arthur wasn't buying it. What could Superian possibly have done–?
"Normally, Arthur," Destiny went on, "advanced beings such as Superian are creators of their own cosmos…they are not left behind on other planets and used as catalysts for hybrid species…yet that seems to have become Superian's…" She hesitated, wincing at the word. "...Fate," she finished quietly, quickly looking away.
"Seriously…?" Arthur's eyes were wide and staring. "You're saying Superian's like—" He could hardly speak the words. "Secretly a—a wanted criminal or—or something?"
"Fugitive," corrected Destiny, "to be exact."
"I can't believe this," Arthur muttered, groaning and covering his eyes with one hand. His head was spinning. Thankfully the drugs were good, and the pain hadn't returned; he suspected without the right medication, he would have needed to be sedated.
Suddenly, however, things were making far too much sense, so much sense that it was almost information overload. Arthur had always wondered why Superian bothered to stick around Earth, when it seemed he wasn't as popular as he'd wanted to be; humans had always either looked down upon Superian with suspicion or jealousy, yet Superian hadn't given up on the human race. In fact, Superian had done everything he could to get himself into humanity's good graces—sometimes going overboard in his attempts to please the populace. Arthur would never forgive himself for giving Superian advice—the superhero had mistaken his suggestion to extend a "gesture of peace" as conceived as defacing a national monument with a statue of himself. (For all his superhuman abilities, superhuman intelligence wasn't exactly one of them.)
"Knock knock," boomed a familiar voice from the doorway, and Arthur looked up to see the Tick standing by. "OK to come in now, Chum?"
"Sure Tick," Arthur waved him in. To Destiny he whispered, "We'll talk more on this later," and Destiny, understanding, wisely let the matter drop. "Did you see Dot?" he asked the Tick, before he could lose his nerve.
"I did," the Tick nodded, gazing back at him pointedly and, if Arthur was being honest, with more than a hint of sadness in his voice. "She wasn't too happy, Arthur." Instead of waiting for a response, he then turned and smiled at Destiny. "You and Arthur have a good talk?"
"We did," Destiny nodded. "I believe we know what's happened with Superian."
"...we do?" Arthur muttered. At that very moment, a nurse appeared with a chart.
"Arthur Everest?" she called out, loudly, as though he were hard of hearing.
"Yeah," Arthur groaned, "that's me—"
"Your tests are clear. You're free to go—please fill out this paperwork."
Arthur's chest swelled with relief.
"Hot dog!" The Tick gave him a high five. As soon as the nurse had left, he leaned closer so that no one was in earshot, "Now, we can go and rescue Superian!"
"I—don't think it's that easy, Tick…" Destiny objected slowly. "Superian is no longer on Earth."
"Then he still must be on the moon!" exclaimed the Tick, "let's sic those flying daredevils at NASA on him!"
"He's not on the moon either." Destiny now had the Tick in rapt attention.
"So…." The Tick glanced between Destiny and Arthur. "If he's not on Earth…and…" The Tick frowned carefully as though deep in thought. "and…he's not on the moon, then…" He glanced curiously at Arthur, who appeared just as mystified. "Where…exactly….is he?"
"He's being held captive at an undisclosed location somewhere in outer space." Destiny stood abruptly with determination. "He's trying to communicate with Arthur…but he can't….because he's trapped on a ship that's encased in Bismuth."
"That's the stuff that was making Superian sick, before," Tick whispered to Arthur, "right, Arthur?"
"Yes, Tick," Arthur whispered back, "Exactly the same. Ok look Destiny, h-here's what I don't get—" he shivered, and his temples were beginning to pulse; he shook himself a little and it dissipated. "How are we going to find him if—if we can't even communicate with him?"
Destiny grinned and returned his question with a wink. "Now that, my friend," she smiled, "is where I come in."