Things start to pick up in this chapter. I had sooo much fun writing it lol
Thank you all for the kind words and support. This is something I've always wanted to write, and being able to do so and having people caring enough to read it is wonderful.
Special thanks to RawToonage press, TheBlueJetpack, NiceGodzilla, SGWarrior, Jeff, The Siege Perilous, FanficFan920, STR2D3PO, MasterCaster, Tristen, burtonfan422, 16 and copet.
Chapter 3:
Puberty is weird.
I walked into the garden, closing the fences behind and I ran all the way to the entry. The longer I spent out there in the open, the more I risked being seen by anyone. My talk with Katherine Mulligan had left me slightly anxious, but now that I was getting closer and closer to this sort of mansion to get inside and set it ablaze, my worries and nerves weighted down on my back like a bag full of lead. I moved swiftly and trying to muffle my steps on the stone floor. I didn't know if that would help me at all, but I felt like doing this mission in Stealth Mode. Or, well, as stealthy as an arson could be. I wouldn't know, I had never done it before.
I quickly reached the main door, and that's where the first obstacle came up.
"Dang it. How am I supposed to open it?"
I tried to luck my way into it and just push. It might have been open. Nope, no such luck. I stopped to think for a few seconds. I grabbed the doorknob again, and this time I pulled. No movement at all. That would've been awesome.
Alright, Ace Savvy wouldn't have sent me to his house if there wasn't any way in, right? I checked the insignia he had given me. It didn't look even remotely close to a key. Just in case, I tried it, but there was no use.
What if he had forgotten to think of a way to let me into his home? He was dying, and he probably didn't carry a spare key in his utility belt. How could I get inside?
Well… I could break a window. He wanted me to burn his house down, a broken window would have been the least of his worries. I began to study the surroundings looking for the most vulnerable window for me to break, until my eyes landed on a circular flower pot beneath a window that led, presumably, to the entry hall. Yellow flowers, very pretty and well taken care of, decorated it. What didn't seem to be as taken care of was the wooden floor underneath it, with some scratching marks around it. Kinda as if the pot was moved around quite often…
"Seriously, Ace?" I said out loud, baffled by this possibility.
I crouched and, indeed, after I dragged the pot away I found a metal key lying underneath it. Superhero or not, he was still a human, apparently. I placed the key in the hole, and after two quick turns, the big door was finally opened. I got inside as fast as I could so no one could see, but once inside, I had to just stop and let out an admiring "Woah".
My dads made a lot of money with their job. Some of their clients were very demanding and very high class, so their designer works had pretty high fees. I don't mean to brag or come off as conceited or anything, but I can pretty easily say that yeah, we lived in a pretty comfortable economic position. This house, however, was beyond any possible economic aspiration that my family could ever have. Polished wood floors, walls covered with elegant tapestries, decorative paintings that seemed to be taken right out of the Renaissance or the Italian Baroque. I wouldn't have been surprised if the moment I walked into the room a record-player from the last century would have started playing classical music next to a fireplace.
Next to the door, there was some varnished wooden furniture, probably to leave the groceries or where Ace kept handy stuff. To the right, a small door that seemed to hide a bathroom. Right ahead, however, the house opened itself to a huge room with a cathedral ceiling, surrounded by the stairs that led to the first floor and with ample picture windows in almost all directions. I don't mean to sound like I'm exaggerating, but I think pretty much any "normal" house could have fitted in that immense room, that seemed to be divided in two not by walls, but by the change in furniture. There were some big couches and sofas that formed a pretty comfortable living room, with a fitment with an amazing TV and a console (who would have thought that Ace Savvy was a gamer?). And on the other side, a divan rested next to a fireplace, with the three walls surrounding it covered by book-filled shelves.
"The library," I recognized. Indeed, that whole section's floor was covered with a giant carpet.
I got closer to inspect it, and I couldn't even begin to comprehend how expensive such an extensive fabric would cost. It had a red wine color to it, with intricate geometric designs in gold. I stepped on it, and I was surprised by how fluffy it was. This would definitely lit up without much effort.
Thinking about my mission saddened me. I glanced at everything around me. Hundreds of books! Personal items. Memories. Did he really want me to set it all on fire? Burning everything down to ashes? I was kinda bummed out. Well, not kinda. Very.
I noticed that there were some pictures and photographs on the fireplace. Feeling nosy, I went over to take a look at them. The first thing that caught my attention was a large picture that framed some kind of diploma.
"NIFTY SPADE - DOCTORATE IN ARCHEOLOGY".
An archaeologist. It was certainly not the profession I would have expected from a vigilante, but it sort of explained why he always spoke with so much class and eloquence in his interviews and public events. A doctorate would surely require a certain level of knowledge and having a way with words, right? The other things on the fireplace were some pictures of Ace Savvy, all of them without his mask and casual clothes at different excavation sites. In every single one, he was captured holding diverse ancient objects, such as adobe vessels or stone arrowheads.
Seeing my hero in such casual situations was ... bizarre, so to speak. It was incredible to think that the most important hero in the history of our city had a parallel life away from crime and justice, in something as devoid of action as archeology, of all things. Katherine Mulligan was right; it was sad to think that very few people would ever get to know about this facet of our hero.
I shook my head, pushing those thoughts away. I had to focus. I couldn't afford distractions like these. I looked around, quickly locating the fire extinguisher and the glass box. I went over and took the bottle of alcohol inside. I just had to pour it on the carpet and light it with a small flame. It would soon extend to the bookshelves full of books and wooden walls and floors. Such a shame, I thought. All those books being burned ...
I approached the nearest bookshelf. They looked like multi-volume collections, with long rows of books with the same flat and, frankly, boring design. If I had to guess, I would say they were psychology or law related.
I tried to take out one of the books to see if it had a cover, but the book wouldn't move.
"Huh?"
I tried the one right next to it. Not the slightest movement. It was as if they were attached to the shelves. I kept trying to move the books, but oddly enough, all of them were as fixed on their place as statues. It was as if a high-level hero had sealed them with Immovable Rods, rare objects that allowed-
Oh, right, sorry. I just really like DnD.
I was starting to come to the conclusion that they were all a mere decoration to impress his guests, but I soon found out the functionality of the facade. I tried to grab a large, red book from the third shelf, and unlike the others, it pivoted forty-five degrees before stopping and making a metallic noise.
Right away, the whole room started to shake. I let out a very high-pitched and not-so-manly squeal as I stumbled back and fell on my gluteus maximus. I had to blink to start making sense of the spectacle that my eyes witnessed. Plaques of the floor began to sink and move around, the carpet suddenly replaced by a smooth, metal surface. The bookshelves disappeared through holes in the walls and floor. The rest of the wooden walls began to fold themselves in a very complex game of architectural origami.
My eyes didn't know where to focus with all the rapid transformations that the room went through. In just a matter of seconds, the living room/library had disappeared along with one of the walls, leaving in view a much wider room, with pedestals, metal tables, giant computers like I had never seen, and a collection of artifacts that not even the best museums in the world had in their vaults.
I'm usually quite slow to understand some things, but I recognized immediately what had just happened.
"The secret lair!" I said, standing up with a leap. Well, not a leap, 'cause that would imply skill and dexterity. It was more like I rolled forward until my knees collided with the ground and I could get up.
I couldn't believe I had just discovered the secret access to Ace Savvy's lair. All theories pointed to a cave in the Evergreen Forest, on the outskirts of the city. That might explain the legends about an enchanted place that nobody could ever even get close to. But now I knew that none of those theories was true. He had put his secret lair in his own house! Risky, but evidently effective.
Feeling like a little boy in Disneyland, I began inspecting all these new items that were now available to me. I didn't focus on the big keyboards and consoles full of colored buttons because, honestly, technology was never my thing. Nor did I analyze a gigantic map of the city that occupied the entire surface of an elongated and thin metal table. There was also a bookcase full of black folders with labels on the backs.
Those folders probably contained political secrets, organized crime networks, juicy data and intelligence that Ace Savvy had collected over the decades. An intelligent person would have gone there first, trying to get forbidden and obscure information that no one else in the city had.
I, on the other hand, went straight to the pointy thingies.
"The Aces!" I shouted, staring with admiration at a showcase on which dozens of what appeared to be decks of cards with the Ace Savvy badge were placed.
After so many games of Dungeons and Dragons, my first instinct should have been to check for traps, but I was a Paladin, not a Rogue, so impulsively I took the first deck on which I managed to place my hands. It was pretty heavy! It had a little buckle, so I quickly placed it on my belt. I felt like the King of the World. I could see dozens of small sheets of steel inside the lid-less deck. I tried to take one out, but they were pressed too tightly together. Remembering the key with which I had managed to enter the house, it occurred to me to press the spades symbol in front of the deck. Right after I did it, the first card shot out like a spring to my palm. I let out a rather silly laugh. I pressed the symbol again, and a second card jumped into my hand. I took these two and examined them. The edges weren't sharp, but Ace could use them as small projectiles that he threw with his own hands. Have you ever watched videos of people throwing cards, nailing them into fruits and other solid objects? Imagine what a superhero could do with cards that were really small sheets of relatively light steel.
Just to try it out, I turned on my heels and quickly and threw the two cards through the air. They flew in the same way that a helicopter piloted by a drunk baboon would have. They fell on the ground just a few steps away from me.
"Ok, so card throwing isn't my thing," I shamelessly admitted. I didn't care that I didn't know how to throw them, just having them in my hands had been the best experience of my life!
I left the deck next to the rest, but not before noticing that not all the decks were black and white. Some had red edges, others blue, others green. Explosive, electric, and smoke cards. The complete arsenal of Ace Savvy. I wasn't brave enough to grab those.
I continued to walk around the room, and I'm almost certain that a bit of drool fell from my mouth when I understood what that whole collection of pedestals with strange objects on them actually was.
"A trophy room!"
I ran to the first pedestal, on which rested what for any ignorant would have been a simple and plain bathroom plunger. But for educated men of culture in the history of the Royal Woods rogue gallery, that banal plunger was nothing but the main melee weapon of the Toiletnator, a villain with a fascination for bathrooms.
A little beyond, some sort of samurai helmet, a purple cape, and what seemed to be metal claws. Overall, it seemed like a pretty heavy-metal, feudal japan war suit, with the identifiable feature of some crossed-out cheese symbols on each item. I recognized the villain that these objects had belonged to.
"The Cheese Shredder", I whispered, remembering the stories of that vile villain that wasn't a metahuman, but simply a martial arts expert with a big loathe for teenagers, metahumans (mutants, he called them), turtles, and dairy products.
For long, several minutes, I continued to look around all the trophies and memorabilia that Ace Savvy had collected from his battles. With every new villain that I recognized, one part of my heart got more excited while another part got number. I was glad to see so many moments and stories that I had studied and read during my fan years, but I was also depressed to think that no new memories would ever be added to this museum. The apotheosis of these feelings was when I reached the end of the room, where a large display case illuminated a naked mannequin. It was there where he kept his suit. He had taken it the night before, but it would never be returned to its resting place.
I remembered my mission. I wasn't there to enjoy a show or go sightseeing. I had been charged with the task of setting fire to that place and leaving nothing but ashes. All memories, all devices, all computers, everything would end up destroyed and lost forever in the unread pages of history.
I assumed that the more I stayed there, the harder it would be for me to have to destroy that secret lair, so I immediately turned around and headed towards the room I had accessed, where the carpet was waiting to be set on fire.
At this point, you might have figured out one of my fatal flaws: I'm very curious and nosy. I can't help it. When something catches my attention, I have to look it up it, I just can't let it go. I'm very bad at focusing on one thing, it's as if my mind is constantly trying to find more things to focus on, or to be distracted with. So it was inevitable that instead of going to light the carpet up, I stopped to examine the cube.
I shouldn't have even noticed it, because it was in the other end of the room, with its small platform surrounded by books, maps and more of those black folders, but still, the red glow of the cube caught my eye. I went to inspect it, slightly confused. Was this another trophy from a villain? I couldn't think of who would have used something like this in their arsenal of weapons. In my years as an enthusiast of the superhero-story of my city, I had never seen anything similar. It was a perfect cube, about four inches on each side. I had no idea what material it was built with, but it looked like some kind of crystal. A beautiful glass box that, interestingly enough, seemed to contain a red nebula. It was hard to explain, like some kind of bright smoke that moved ever so slowly.
"Where did you get this, Ace?" I asked quietly.
There wasn't any inscription or plaque that could give me a clue what kind of object this was. I looked at the nearby folders, reading the labels on their backs. "Archaeological Records." "Egyptian Mythology." "Various cultural references". "Meteor landing excavation". "Advanced Geometry: The Fourth Dimension". "Medical reports."
I had never liked mathematics, so I totally ignored that one book about advanced geometry. I also assumed that the archeological, cultural and mythology references would be something that he actually used for his work, and probably had nothing to do with the cube that rested next to them. "Medical reports," however ... Just out of curiosity, I decided to grab the folder and examine its contents. I went through page after page, without really understanding most of the studies and diagnoses.
The things that did catch my eye were the pictures and photographs. Hooked with clips to different pages, I found many photographs of who was undoubtedly Nifty Spade A.K.A Ace Savvy. I say "undoubtedly" because his hair and face were the same ... but there were a series of photographs that seemed to be taken to two totally different people. In the first series, taken a long time ago, I could see a younger version of Ace Savvy, maybe in his late teens, looking all small and skinny. He looked like a member of the chess club with severe flu going on. And yet, the following photographs showed the same person, almost with the same face, but also taller, with broader shoulders, pectorals the size of a pillow and legs almost wider than my entire body. There were lots of annotations in red and black fibers, highlighting the differences in height (from 5'3" to 6'), weight (from 132lbs to 250lbs) and other data that I was too dumb to understand.
"What does this mean? How…?"
My head was starting to hurt as I processed this information. I wouldn't have been surprised to see smoke coming out of my ears. Was Ace Savvy actually two people? How had he changed so much? I put the folder aside. I didn't know what to do with this new information or how to interpret it.
I looked back at the cube, and... Have you ever felt the desire to do something that you knew you shouldn't do? Like, I don't know, walking down the street, seeing a trash can, and feeling a strange urge to kick it. You know you shouldn't do it, and even if there's no one around to stop you, your consciousness is holding you back so you don't. And you don't even know why you want to kick it. You only feel an impulse to do it. Well, I felt that way. That strange cube seemed to be calling me, whispering into my mind to grab it. My conscience tried to stop me, but it was a losing battle.
I just wanted to touch it for a second, what could go wrong?
I slowly leaned forward, raised my hand, and closed my fingers on the crystalline surface. It was extremely smooth, like totally polished glass. I picked it up, and as I turned it around I noticed that it felt warm, as if that strange element inside the glass was radiating a—
ZAP!
"AAAAAAAAAAAH!"
The cube shot a blinding spark, like an overloaded battery. The noise and the sheer amount of light made me scream and drop the cube, letting it fall to the floor.
I backed up so fast that I fell back. It took my eyes a couple of long seconds to recover from the flash, but to my utter terror, I didn't feel okay right away. I wasn't hurt, but I felt dizzy. I was shaking, feeling an electric tingling that expanded from my hand to the rest of the muscles in my body. I tried to stand up, but my legs shook like they were made out of jelly, and just standing up was almost as difficult as a whole workout. I staggered to the long table with the map of Royal Woods, on which I supported myself to try to regain control of my body. The beating of my heart rumbled inside my skull like a basketball bouncing in an empty gym.
Not gonna lie, I thought I was going to die.
I panicked. Burning down the house was suddenly the least of my worries. I didn't even remember what was supposed to be my mission. I just wanted to go back with my dads and make sure that I didn't die.
I ran to the entry, bumping into several chairs and couches. I barely noticed that, as soon as I stepped out of the library, the walls began moving again, returning to the appearance of a normal house. I didn't care. I opened the door and ran to the gates.
Unfortunately, in my state of confusion and dizziness, I completely forgot that there was a stone staircase. I failed to plant my foot firmly on the first step, and I fell forward. It was as if time slowed down. I watched in slow motion as the ground got nearer and dangerously closer to my beautiful freckled face, ready to break my nose or just ruin my day. It didn't seem like it was going to be a happy landing.
But then I reacted.
As I fell, I noticed the weight of my shoulder unbalancing forward. I didn't want to just hit and hurt myself, so I just… instinctively dodged it. I ducked my head to increase my momentum, I stretched my right hand to put it on the floor, almost like I was doing a handstand, and I impulsed myself to do a little flip and fall on my feet a few steps down below.
If I hadn't been so dazed and confused, I would have been impressed at myself, and I would probably stop for a second to think how it was possible that I had done something that never in my entire life I even thought I could try. But I didn't even realize what I had done. I was just focused on opening the door with the key that Ace had given me and walk to the street.
I had to blink a couple of times to make sense of my surroundings. The ground wasn't spinning around me anymore, but my whole body was still shaking. I walked like a drunk to the end of the street and I stared at the horizon, suddenly realizing how many blocks I had to walk to get to my house.
"Dang it."
I'm happy to report that, as I was making my way downtown, walking fast, faces passed and I was getting better. My mental and physical state was improving. My muscles stopped aching, my mind was able to think clearly, and my heart was beating normally without threatening to come out of my chest Alien style. By the time I got home, I was feeling much, much better, and aside from a headache, the only palpable sequelae that I had was the fear that still flowed through my veins after the incident. What the hell was that all about? Had I really been close to death like I thought?
When I got inside my house, Clyde was passing the vacuum cleaner on the carpet. He stopped to say hi to me, and his face was filled with worry.
"You look terrible," he said, getting closer to me.
"Thanks."
"You're lucky our dads aren't home. They would have a heart attack if they saw you like this."
"Where are they?" I asked as I went to the kitchen. I needed to drink something.
"The heir of Yates Enterprise called them for an emergency. She needs to attend an event and she needs to wear a prettier dress than the Sweetwater's daughter."
"That kid seems to always need something urgent," I mentioned, filling a glass with cold water and a few ice cubes.
"Yeah, well, we have what we have thanks to her mostly."
"Heh, I guess that's true."
I finished my drink and, I gotta say, it really helped me. My throat stopped being so dry, and part of the annoying piercing pain in my temples went away. I was still pretty shocked, though. And confused, mostly. Pretty confused.
"Hey, why don't you sit down and watch some TV?" Clyde suggested, placing a hand on my shoulders. "I'll make some milkshakes for us."
"Yeah, I… I'll do that. Thank you."
He smiled, and I felt grateful to the universe for letting me be a part of Clyde's family. He was my brother, my best friend, the person that I knew I could always count on. I decided to listen to him, so I quickly went to the couch and turned on the TV. My intention was to quickly put on Disney+ and maybe check out that new sci-fi show everyone was talking about. But as soon as the TV went on, a news channel was up, and I felt attracted to it like a moth to a lightbulb.
It was a local network, and apparently, the host was interviewing a guest. I know the anchorman, of course, but this was my first time seeing the guest. It was a man no younger than fifty or sixty years old, and he had the exact anatomy one would expect from a snowman. His big torso was as rounded as his head, which seemed to be made out of 80% fat, 10% face, and 10% baldness and sideburns. His tiny eyes seemed like dark buttons, hidden behind a voluptuous nose from which a white mustache sprouted. His chin was barely visible between so many dewlaps.
He was pretty disgusting in all beauty standards, but at least he was well dressed. He wore an executive suit in a dark blue shade, a white kerchief coming out from one of the pockets in his chest, and a red ascot. On top of his head, there was a very tall, very thin top hat that looked almost cartoonish next to his head.
I had no idea who this strange man was, but the title of the interview was designed to catch people's attention, just like it did with me: "ARE WE SAFE WITHOUT ACE SAVVY?"
"...violence, with police sources admitting that just today, there were more than thirteen registered emergency calls for theft and assaults," the interviewer was explaining. "Without Ace Savvy patrolling the streets, do you think that the police and the statal organisms are prepared to keep the order in our city?"
The Michelin man sighed, looking visibly sad and affected.
"I think the answer to that is definitely 'no', David. It hurts to say it, especially with the friendship that I have with our Mayor, but reality can't be denied. The data is out there, it's irrefutable: Royal Woods isn't prepared to deal with crime in an efficient and safe way. Ace Savvy, may he rest in peace, was the only thing that kept us from falling into utter chaos. Now that he's gone, who can we trust? Eclipse? Nova? They're kids, David, kids. They're not ready to protect a city. I don't feel safe with just them watching over us."
"So, would you say it's time for everyone to panic?"
The man laughed.
"No, no, certainly not. I think that the unfortunate turn of events has left us in a situation where we can no longer resign ourselves to what we have, and we need to start looking forward to seeing how we can improve our situation. The age of heroes has been long left behind for us. Their acts of heroism have inspired millions, but here in Royal Woods, we can't keep putting our safety in the hands of a handful of metahumans. Why has the public accepted that our security must depend exclusively on the will of people with superpowers that they may or may not fully control? Why have we just accepted that our security forces aren't ready to deal with metahumans? I understand having faith in humanity and in that good will always triumph over evil, it's a very comforting thought. But I'm a visionary, David, a futurist. And in my vision, mankind won't need to trust in the morality of metahumans to stay safe; they'll trust themselves, and in the abilities that we all have to protect ourselves as a species."
"I respect your vision as a futurist, but I'm more of a 'presentist'. Having just admitted a few minutes ago that our police officers aren't ready to maintain peace and order, what reasons do the general population have to feel safe nowadays, now that our protector is gone?"
A smile was painted on the old man's face.
"That's the million-dollar question, David. What can we place our faith on? Well, that's why I'm here today. Tetherby Industries has spent the last two decades developing last generation armaments and logistics in the sphere of private security, and for several years now, we have been the number one choice of contractors from all over the State of Michigan to provide security measures to metahuman prisons. Our numbers are outstanding: we are, objectively, the best and most trustworthy company regarding private security in the business. We don't have any more heroes to protect us. We need to make sure that the police can respond to the threats that attack us."
"Are you suggesting that you want to give our police officers last generation technology and weapons?"
"Not only give them the weapons but also train them and make sure that they become the most efficient they've ever been. A force to be reckoned with, on the same level than the Army."
"Is Tetherby Industries ready to tackle on such a huge task?"
"We're the only ones that are ready to do so."
The fat man looked confident and proud. His puffed out chest looked like an air balloon, pushing his second chin upwards. He was apparently a businessman, but truth be told, he looked like a king. A very cartoonish king: well dressed, fat, looking down on everyone else, talking with arrogance and as if his words were gospel. Even being just a guest, he seemed to be in control of the conversation.
"I see," David said, fixing some papers on his desk. "Very well, we're now live in a phone call with our trusty journalist Katherine Mulligan. Katherine, we're here at the studio with Lord Tetherby from Tetherby Industries."
"Thanks, David," said the voice that I had had a conversation with not too long ago. She sounded tense, with an edge in her voice. "Alright, mister Tetherby—"
"Lord Tetherby, actually," the man interrupted her.
"Mister Tetherby," she insisted, "I understand that you're defending the economic interests of your own company, but don't you think you should at least mention to the viewers the millionaire contracts that Tetherby Industries has signed with the prisons, which costs the State an unfathomable amount of resources that are being deviated from the public works?"
Tetherby's confident face tensed. His smile grew wider, but it looked much more forced than before.
"I think the viewers understand that their safety is a priority in these times of danger and uncertainty. Don't all the mothers at home want to make sure that the dangerous villains and metahumans stay away from their kids?"
"Probably, but I'm sure everyone at home is also worried about keeping their jobs."
Tetherby and David exchanged a confused look.
"Are you saying that there's a correlation between Tetherby Industries' private services and unemployment?" David asked.
"I'm saying that, maybe, Tetherby Industries is developing certain technologies designed to replace workers, and Royal Woods may be the only place that hasn't outright rejected his business proposal. Being friends with the Mayor probably doesn't hurt. Isn't that right?"
I didn't understand what was going on, but I sat on the edge of my seat. She sounded very serious, but her voice had a jovial tone to it like she knew something that the rest of us didn't. Whatever it was, it seemed to be something that Tetherby recognized, because he squinted his eyes and his fingers closed into a fist on the table.
"I don't know what you're talking about, lady, but I'm sure that anything you want to say must be backed up with evidence. Otherwise, you'd be setting yourself up for a lawsuit. I don't think a woman like you is willing to get into that much trouble."
There was an awkward silence that stretched for some seconds. I was so focused on the tension that seemed to be growing at the studio that my heart almost jumped to my throat when Clyde appeared next to me with two milkshakes.
"Here you go," he happily said, sitting next to me on the couch. "So, anything interesting to watch?"
I looked at the fat man, who had begun to argue and talk over Katherine Mulligan, with the anchorman trying to calm them both down.
I took the remote and quickly changed the channel.
"Just some boring news."
I went to bed early that night. After dinner, tiredness took over my body once again, like a giant, heavy, invisible hand pressing down on me. My eyelids felt heavy and I could barely keep them open. I put on my pajamas, and I'm pretty sure that as soon as I pressed my head down on the pillow, I was dragged to the dream land. At least that's what I think. I honestly don't remember dreaming anything by the time the stupid alarm woke me up around six o clock. It was always tough getting up on Mondays.
"Clyde, Lincoln, wake up!" Said the voice of one of our dads from outside the room, while they gently knocked on the door. We both let out some grunts to let them know that we were alive and awake.
I rubbed my eyes and I sat up. A second later, my eyes were open and my whole body seemed ready for action. I blinked and moved my legs, surprised at the fact that I didn't feel any numbness at all.
"Wow," I said out loud, "I feel… awake."
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…" said Clyde, still trapped in the limbo between dreams and reality, covering his face with his blanket.
I'm usually that way too in the mornings. It always took me some solid ten minutes until I was fully awake and ready to face the day. This time, however, was as if by just opening my eyes all sleepiness and tiredness had left me. I attributed it to a good night's rest. Since I was ready, and I didn't want to waste time, I just grabbed my clothes for school, a towel, and went to the bathroom.
Once inside, I turned on the shower, and as I waited for the water to warm up, I brushed my teeth. Finishing that up, and with the steam escaping from the top of the curtain, I decided to take my clothes off. As I was about to unbutton the top, though, I noticed that my shirt was tight on my chest and shoulders. It felt like it had shrunk a little during the night. Oh, well, maybe my dads had left it in the washing machine a little too long. I'd ask them for a new one if it turned out to be uncomfortable. I took the shirt off, and I was about to fold it and leave it aside when I looked at my arms and chest.
I almost screamed.
See, I've always been what many people like to call "a nerd". With everything that's stereotypically associated with nerds. I liked science fiction, reading, I do well in school, I play Dungeons And Dragons, video games, and I was never precisely athletic. I was part of the scrawny kids, the less dexterous, the skinny boys that are picked last in gym class.
Imagine my surprise when I woke up and found myself with well-defined pecs and abs, and with arms that, even though they weren't much bigger, they definitely had more muscle in them than they had last night. I touched my abs with the tip of my fingers, and I was surprised by how solid they were. I slithered my hand throughout my whole torso and core. It wasn't a smooth, soft surface anymore. It was a land filled with geographical accidents, like a valley crossed by mountain ranges.
"What the heck is going on?" I said, examining myself. My face also looked a little thinner. My shoulders and back seemed more defined. And near my waist, I could clearly see the beginning of the abdominal V that I always saw in models and Hollywood actors. I touched my quadriceps and they also seemed bigger and stronger than last night. Same with my calves.
What about…? Curiosity won me over. I dropped my pants.
"Holy…"
A light bulb turned on over my head. It all made sense now.
"Puberty!"
I was only eleven years old, but this was the only logical explanation for these… big changes. I had always heard that it was a sudden process that felt super weird, and now I could clearly understand why. I didn't know how to tell Clyde or my dads about this, but I assumed that we probably would need a talk to figure this out or something, right?
I tried not to think about that as I showered. When I walked out of the bathroom, already dressed in my red shirt, jeans and white sneakers, I felt like the world fit the palm of my hands. It was hard to explain. I was in a very good mood, with the energy to do anything I wanted. My shirt seemed a tiny little bit tight on my shoulders and chest, but it wasn't uncomfortable or anything. It accentuated a little my now pubescent body, but it wasn't a big deal. And when I put on my orange hoodie with black sleeves, it was almost impossible to see that there was something different in me. On my way to the kitchen, I saw Clyde, who had barely gotten up and was on his way to the bathroom.
"M-Morning… Lincoln," he said, yawning in the middle.
"Good morning, Cadet Clyde!"
My dads and Clyde seemed surprised by my energy during breakfast. We chatted happily until they drove us to school. As I was in the car, I had to stop myself to think for the first time about the fact that I hadn't actually burned Ace Savvy's house down like he specifically asked me to. I would do it later that day. Or that night. I was thinking about it until Clyde brought me back to reality.
"Hey, are you doing alright?" He asked in a whisper, trying that our dads wouldn't hear him as they talked about traffic in the front seats.
"Me? Yeah, I'm alright. Why do you ask?"
"It's just… well, yesterday you seemed pretty weary and bummed out," he mentioned, looking worried. "You almost looked sick. And now… You look much better, but also like you have a lot going on in your head."
As always, he knew everything.
"I'm sorry I've been making you worried. The truth is that… yeah, I'm still pretty shocked by everything that happened. But today… I woke up differently. Very different."
"I understand," he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You're still sad, but you know that you can't just let the negative thoughts control you and that you need to put on a smile to face reality and overcome the difficulties."
I was left speechless. I kinda wanted to let him know about my puberty and how energetic I felt, but his explanation was too good to reject.
"Exactly," I said, nodding like I was actually capable of having such deep reflections. "I'm glad that someone understands me."
"Always, bro. Always."
We both smiled, and soon enough he took out his phone to show me some funny videos until we got to school.
I'd tell him the truth later anyway.
The first few hours of school were weird. Miss Johnson spent the first two hours crying for Ace Savvy, which made us all depressed. She barely gave us a couple of math problems that, funny enough, I managed to solve immediately, much faster than even Stella. My friends seemed surprised.
"Those were super hard," Zach said, "how did you do them so fast?"
"I don't know. They seemed pretty straightforward to me."
I wasn't lying. Just by reading them I figured out the relationship between the elements and the operations I needed to do. It was like my mind moved faster than usual.
Right after math ended, our next class was gym, which didn't bring me any relief at all. It was always a class where I had a hard time, and where I was destined to receive at least four balls to the face.
The good news was that I had always been pretty shy, and would only change into my gym clothes inside a booth with curtains. No one could see me as I undressed, so the not-so-little overnight changes to my body remained secret.
When we went outside, I couldn't help but appreciate like a fool how beautiful Jordan looked on her gym clothes. She literally was the prettiest girl in the world.
"Watch that drooling," Clyde said to me with a knowing smirk. Just in case, I touched my chin. No drool, it was just a joke.
The coach waited until all of us were standing in line before blowing on his whistle as hard as he could just to annoy us.
"Alright kids, Ace Savvy is dead and our lives are screwed because of it. Some of us are lucky enough to have plans of moving away from this God-forsaken town, but most of you will stay, so you need to learn to survive. From now on, this isn't gym class anymore, this is Survival 101. We'll warm up with a little fifteen-minutes run, so if you need any motivation to do it, picture a criminal running after you, and it's up to your legs to see if you can survive. Run!"
With a pep talk like that, it was hard not to take the warm-up seriously. I started to run, trying to stay on the same pace than Clyde, Rusty, Zach and Liam. Jordan and Stella were always running at their own pace, much faster than ours. Stella because she had longer legs, and Jordan because she was one of the most athletic kids in our class.
"Doesn't it… seem a little… unfair that everyone's… underestimating… Nova and Eclipse so much?" Zach asked us, finding it hard to catch his breath while running and talking at the same time.
"Yeah, I think… they'll do good… Maybe not as good as Ace, but… as long as they're around… things may not be… lost," Clyde said, just as tired.
"It's not that… I don't trust them… but they're pretty young… and it's just a matter of… time before they disappear, too," added Liam.
That was right. As much faith as I had in them, the truth is that they had barely begun their superhero career a year ago. They were rookies, and there was no reason to believe that they would be able to survive Royal Wood's curse. That was the main reason why we all looked up to Ace Savvy so much, and why he was a living legend. He was the only hero that had managed to survive. The only one we could count on, the only person that we thought would always be there to watch over us.
"I don't know if they'll be able to keep the legacy of Ace alive," I said, "but they're brave enough to use their powers for good, and they're willing to risk their lives to try and keep the rest of us safe. They fight for justice, and I think that as long as there are others like them, things can get much brighter."
I realized that I had no problem having a conversation and keeping my breath while running. In fact, my muscles weren't aching at all. I was running at a relatively fast pace, and yet I felt like I could've kept that up for hours with no problem.
"Lincoln's right… we need… w-we need t-to… trust in Eclip— AAAAH! CHARLEY HORSE!"
Rusty fell to the floor, grabbing his right calf. No-one stopped to help him.
"Spokes!" The coach yelled, blowing his whistle once again. "The villain caught you because you couldn't even win a race against a crippled snail on a salt field! You're dropping faster than Venezuela's economy! Life isn't another one of your video games, you don't have a second opportunity! You're dead, kid!"
"I-I need help…"
"What you need us to stand up and run for your life, kid!"
We just laughed. Rusty always found a way to trip over or get a charley horse during gym class. It's not that we didn't care about his health, but we were just used to it. As I laughed, I didn't realize that the rest of my friends were slowing down their running pace. Unlike them, laughing out loud didn't seem to affect my breathing or ability to run. I unconsciously went a bit faster, even, and when I opened my eyes, I was almost behind Stella and Jordan, who were in the middle of what seemed to be a nice conversation.
The former seemed to sense my ki, since she turned around and looked at me. She smiled in my direction, turned her head to look at Jordan for a second, and looking back at me with a little spark of mischief in her eyes, she hand-gestured me to go with them. I was a little anxious but immediately picked up my pace to join them, getting in the middle of the two.
"Hey, Lincoln," she said. "We were just talking about you."
My cheeks turned as red as our uniforms.
"Stella!" Jordan complained, and I could've sworn that she looked a bit embarrassed as well.
"I, uh, I hope it wasn't anything bad," I managed to say.
"No, of course not," Jordan quickly told me, shooting daggers with her eyes at Stella right before giving me a warm look. "It's just… we were wondering if you've been working out or something."
"Me? Uh, why?"
"I don't know, maybe we're crazy, but we seemed to notice that your shoulders look bigger," Stella admitted.
And in a gesture so audacious that left me more breathless than the running, she stretched a hand and squeezed my right biceps. I immediately tensed my arm, outright stunned at that, and she whistled with a wolfish grin.
"Yo! Jordan, check this out!"
"You're nuts."
"You've got to feel this!"
"Why don't you ask the coach to let Lincoln go with you to the nurse and hide in a closet if you want to touch him so much?" Jordan said, rolling her eyes, doing her best not to look at us and sounding pretty pissed off.
I felt on the verge of passing out. Stella was a great friend, and from time to time she might even joke with us with romantic hints here and there, just for fun. But one thing was for her to fool around and a very different one was for Jordan, the girl I had a crush on, made a joke about me and another girl locked in a closet.
Stella didn't seem to care at all. "Come ooooon, you know you want to~."
"Ugh."
Jordan picked up the pace, running away from us. I saw her getting farther away from me like a loved one boarding on a plane. Her braided hair swung from side to side with each step she took, like a precious sandy blonde pendulum. I couldn't help but feel a bit bad. Should I have said something? Was it my fault?
Stella clicked her tongue, and when I turned around to look at her, she was also staring at Jordan, although she was smiling.
"She was the one that noticed that you seemed a bit different," she told me, leaning down to whisper those words into my ears.
"Uh… uh… uh…"
She giggled.
"Alright, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. Anyway, let's talk about DnD. I don't want to spoil anything, but let's say there's a chance that Silver Edge survives. It's not for sure, though. You took a big risk and you need to face the consequences. So I'm going to need you to, just in case, make a new character for our next session. Maybe they might become your new hero, or maybe you won't have to use it at all, the dice will tell. Is there any class or something that you'd be interested in playing?"
For the rest of the warm-up, we discussed a character creation, even though my head was busy thinking about the fact that Jordan had noticed that I looked different.
By the time the coach blew his whistle, the main concept of Syaoran Fang, a Shaolin monk that could use his inner ki to control the elements, was almost done.
"Alright kids, now that you're all warmed up it's time for survival lesson número dos. Sometimes you'll be cornered by a villain and there won't be any other choice than dodging to stay alive. So let's get ready to play the most extreme dodgeball game of your lives!"
Dodgeball. Great. Two teams of ten people, give balls, only one survivor. I was always one of the first ones to be eliminated. I didn't like the game that much.
We divided into two teams as usual. My friends and I plus a few others against the rest of the class. I took a look at who was on the other side. Collin, Dylan, Mitch, Cody, Geoff, Aly, Valerie, and a few other athletic kids. Oof. Our only hopes were Jordan and Stella.
"Scorpion formation?" The latter suggested.
"Deal," we both said.
When we heard the whistle, we all launched to the balls placed at the center of the court.
I tried to dash as fast as I could, and I was surprised at how much faster than anyone else I was. I grabbed the first ball I could put a hand on and threw it to the closest person on the other side.
"You're out, Cody!" Coach yelled. I still had enough time to grab a second ball and hand it over to Jordan, who grabbed it and managed to eliminate someone. Unfortunately for our team, the other three balls went to the other side, and two of our classmates were eliminated as well.
We retreated to out scorpion formation, and for a couple of minutes, things were alright. We dodged what was thrown at us, let Jordan and Stella catch the balls and then they would try their best to eliminate the other team. I noticed, however, that my friends seemed to react waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too slowly. Stella's indications were coming in super late, and many times I found myself being the only one that moved for several seconds until they reacted. So what to me seemed like extremely easy and avoidable shots, turned into dangerous situations for my friends.
When a sudden ball came flying from the right, I saw it much earlier than anyone else.
"Clyde, down!" I tried to warn him.
"Huh?"
BLAM!
He couldn't even react.
"Right!" I yelled, grabbing Liam by his shirt and effortlessly moving him just in time for him to dodge a shot. Unfortunately, Zach didn't understand my warning until it was too late.
With a few players less than the other team, they began abusing us. We were so busy dodging balls that we couldn't find time to counter. Or at least, Stella and Jordan couldn't. I felt that I could have had several opportunities to step forward and catch a few balls and maybe try to eliminate someone, but our strategy was always centered around us boys dodging, Stella catching, and Jordan shooting. But Stella couldn't catch any, and Jordan wasn't getting any ball from us to attack.
She managed to eliminate a few, but soon we were at a disadvantage of three versus six. The odds weren't in our favor.
"Stella, you need to catch a ball if we want to win this game!" Jordan told her, as competitive as always.
"It's not like I'm not trying! But they're too many, I can't stop to—!"
"Watch out!"
Three balls were coming in our direction. I jumped to a side, Jordan dropped to the floor, but Stella was a pretty tall target.
"Stella, out!" The coach said, and our friend left the field rubbing her stomach, where the ball had hit her.
"Alright Lincoln, it's just you and me," Jordan told me, looking anxious. "Any idea?"
"Yeah. Don't get hit."
"You're such a strategist, Loud."
Truth be told, there wasn't much to do. Now that Stella was out, I assumed that it was my turn to take that role.
When a new round of balls flew towards us, I noticed the trajectory and the strength with which they were flying. Don't ask me how, but I had time to figure out the best intersection points, and I instinctively knew that I needed to jump to my right —almost in front of Jordan— which would leave me in a perfect spot to grab one and deflect a second one.
Actually, the two balls were pretty close to each other. Could I grab one with each hand? Something inside told me that I could.
This all happened inside my head in less than a second, by the way. It's not like I was actively thinking about it. My body just seemed to take all these decisions on its own.
Jordan let out a small and adorable surprised squeal when I jumped in front of her.
"Lincoln, watch out!"
The two balls went straight to me, and without even breaking a sweat, I stopped them midair with my hands.
Everyone gasped when they saw what I did, and it even took the coach a few seconds to blow his whistle.
"Uh, Dylan, Aly, you're both out. Get out of the field!"
"Quick, to Geoff," I told Jordan, giving her one of the balls as I took a step forward and took a shot for the first time in months.
Maybe I should have done it more often, because my ball went straight as an arrow in a perfect trajectory from my hand to Collin's chest, knocking him down a few feet behind.
"Out!"
Jordan also took a shot, and a stunned Geoff couldn't dodge it in time.
"You're out! Two versus two! Let's go!"
Only Mitch and Valerie on the other side. Things were now looking good to us. I just needed to leave Jordan free so she could eliminate them. We didn't have any balls on our side, so if they attacked us, we were helpless.
"I'll distract them," I told my friend, and I ran to the other side. "Hey! Over here!"
I started to move my arms around, trying to catch their attention. The two of them took the first balls that they found, and without hesitation, Mitch threw it to me. Val also began moving her arm, and I could see in my mind the trajectory her ball would have. Deciding that my best shot was to jump high to dodge both balls —Val's seemed to be heading to my feet—, I got a little impulse and then jumped, starting to turn around to get a better positioning when I fell.
However, Val seemed to change her plans, and at the last second, she stopped herself, turned around, and threw Jordan a ball. My friend, unfortunately, was too distracted looking at me jumping. The ball seemed to be going straight to her face.
I couldn't let her be hit on the face! I didn't want her to be hurt or eliminated. So in the middle of me turning around mid-air, I stretched a hand. I grabbed the ball —eliminating Mitch in the process—, and taking advantage of the momentum, I twisted my arm and threw it as hard as I could in Jordan's direction.
It flew across the whole gym until, just a few feet away from her, it perfectly intercepted Val's shot. Jordan seemed to be frightened by the sound of two balls crashing mid-air in front of her, but she soon got her head back in the game. She grabbed the ball I threw there, which had ended up bouncing right in front of her —I can't say I did it intentionally, although a little part of my brain had considered that possibility—, and she quickly threw it with the expertise of a trained sniper, eliminating the last rival.
The entire class was left speechless. The coach didn't even blow his whistle to announce the two eliminations or the end of the game. Everyone, including Jordan, seemed too busy looking at me like I had grown a third arm on my back.
"Uh…" I began, rubbing the back of my neck, confused at embarrassed at suddenly being in the spotlight, "did I do something wrong?"
