[noted]:

So Esoteric is basically down with the plague, right? Kind of a bummer, but we learnt about a few more of them, and there's still two left to include in the story and hopefully, we'll see them soon. In this chapter we learn quite a bit about them if I'm honest. Bit of a surprise as well, if you hadn't already guessed what it is.

By the way, remember to leave me reviews guys and tell me what you thought the surprise was ! Ya'll know how much I love those and how they brighten my day, hehe. Anyways, enjoy and thanks for reading.

Guest: Yeah, Shark was trying to attack. It's mostly because of how he's been trained, so Rosette's a little on the ball there. There's a lot more too them and thank you for your review !
Moonlightmistborn: I'm so glad you're enjoying it, sweetpea ! I adore your reviews so much, I'm so happy you're enjoying it.
Darkred101: Thank you very much.

[ chapter six ]

saber

Translation - know, to know

Appropriation - "no sabes nada."

She's cornered. There's something territorial in his shoulders from where he looms over her, the way his chest rises and falls with constrained effort and she's never felt more like a scolded child. There's a drum in her heart and her veins pump hot, producing sweat on her skin as white eye panels stare her down.

"Stalker."

"What?" the word is bitten into shards, and Spiderman flinches from the way they cut over his ears. But he straightens still, and the dark-clothed girl returns to her actions beforehand. But as her hand lifts upwards to pull the darkness to her fingers like puppeteer's strings, his own slides around her wrist, stopping the inky black pull of darkness to her fingers. Vague irritation tweaks her stomach into knots and out of bred instinct, rips her hand out of his and skitters back a few steps.

"You don't touch me without my permission, Spiderman."

The ice in her words does not go unheard, and he lifts his fingers in a spread of surrender to her wishes. A soft nod is sent from her and he lowers his hands. "I just wanna talk."

"That's all you ever want to do."

Spiderman chews on his bottom lip and bounces from foot-to-foot, nervousness eating at every sense and fingertip he owns, every vague, bumping thought behind his eyes that blink away hallucinations of being punched in the face by the serious umbrakinetic wielder. "I know, and you're probably tired of hearing of it, but we do. We're co-leader's in this little team up, and don't you think we should talk things out?"

"At three am in the morning?"

"Only time the darkness comes out," there's a metaphor somewhere in the spaces between the words, but she's to exhausted and embarrassed to pick out what he's saying. His arms fold again, a wall with spiderwebs over every knuckle, every branch of solid bone in solid skin. And she's tired, so Stalker folds her hostility away for another time of day, and gestures towards him to continue.

The web-themed hero huffs a sigh through draw-string lungs and he lays his hands, palm up, by his hips. As if offering something with nothing to give, but still, he speaks. "So, yesterday was -"

"A disaster, I know," the shame picks itself from her teeth as she hisses, and Spiderman flinches. As much as his speeches go, he's only done them when it's something serious and he can feel the power building in his lungs, but right now, in the face of this powerful girl, his own sinks lower into his gut. She can see the way it's flattened his hopeful words, and she sighs, unhooking her own arms like window-pane locks. "I-I'm sorry, Spiderman. Please continue."

The teenager nods, and continues. "Yesterday wasn't a disaster, because I really believed we got through. They're rough around the edges, but so are we," he says, and he leans forwards, moving to offer a hand before pulling it back when he can see the tenseness of her shoulders under her jumpsuit. Stalker's still willing to listen, and he's not going to damage that. "So please don't take offence when I say this - b-but I believe that maybe my team should take the reigns, only for a little bit?"

"What!"

"Wait, wait!" his hands lift in defense when she whirls, and the darkness around his feet writhes from the sudden influx of emotion from the girl. He swallows around the need to step back and instead, lowers his arms. "I d-didn't mean anything by it! It's just...we're all rough around the edges - my team hasn't had the access to your sort of training, but you've grown up in a harsh environment from your training. You guys instantly distrust. So do Esoteric. So I'm just saying, let us try it our way for a while. Please."

She'd looked ready to cut the spider-themed hero in half, for daring to declare her team had flaws big enough for him to actually see, but she faltered on her turn to stare at him when he said 'please.' People usually don't plead with children in teenaged bodies, more so if they know they can hurt them. So her thoughts backtrack, her tongue turns on it's side to find a way to swallow her anger.

"Would you teach us?" There's something child-like and lost in her chest when she speaks, and Spiderman almost flinches at how hopeful it seems. No matter how much her body language may produce picket fences and warning signs around her, she still peers from beneath the panels of her red eyes, still looks entirely too vulnerable for a girl that could pull every shadow in the room to her will.

So Spiderman nods and strides forwards, trying to ignore the way her feet automatically try to scuff backwards, to disappear back into the back of the room. But something like a punch pushes her forwards, and she moves to join him, after displaying how she can move through the shadows when she sinks through the floor and stands beside him in seconds. The boy jumps with a squeal, holding out a webbed wrist in threat before pulling his limbs apart from their curled positions around his body.

"D-Don't...do that! Didn't even know you could teleport," he murmurs, before creating a spinning motion with his fore-finger towards the girl, and he sits himself on the ground like a child when she steps back a few inches. He can practically see the raised eyebrow under the black cloth and with amusement filling his body, pats the space opposite him. Gingerly, she lowers herself in front of him, legs curled to her chest.

"May I ask why are we on the floor?"

"It's more fun," when she starts at the reason, as if 'fun' has been dormant in her for so long, he feels a pang of sympathy like a drum in his chest, but masks it with laughter. "So, we're gonna talk, just talk. For as long as you want."

"About what?"

"Where'd you get your powers? How?"

Stalker huffs like a spoiled child behind her mask, eyes averting to the ground as memories ricochet like tossed bullets, like fists flying into her stomach and shadows curling around a teenaged girl's neck when she got to scared to control it anymore. "I really should have used the portals to go back to my room..."

"Whazzat?"

"Nothing. Alright, so I got my powers when I was five, but..."

Force isn't built for drop-offs. She's made for staying at home, devising plans and thinking of ways to get them all out without leaving a single one behind, as well as destroying the neighboring laboratories without alerting the newly positioned guards. But with Timeline sick, as well as most of the others and Rosette having break-downs left and right, the other two needed to keep the peace and Force was left to retrieve the samples.

There's nervousness locked in every line of her body as she steps through the dark - she's never been fond of it, not because of what it is, but what can lurk inside. Many nights, there have been hands grasping at her and fire begging to have a lick of her flesh with too many close-calls that she'd like to admit. The darkness always hid them until it was too late, so she stayed clear of the way; and as if she were imagining it, the shadows followed her careful footsteps like wandering fingers.

The docks groaned beneath her padding feet, the waves beat their fists against the rapidly deteriorating wooden legs that held the boards above sea-level. Subconsciously, her feet counted out the sequence that had been bred into her and immediately, once finished, turned down the jetty that ran alongside one specific boat. Her heart lifted when she saw the inconspicuous scrawl of a long-worn logo poking from beneath the foaming mouth of the waves. She could only see an 'ESOT' before it sunk back into the gasping gullet of the ocean.

She beat down the jetty with sudden speed, chest lifting higher as she reached the open walk-way onto the boat. She gripped the docking rope with bitten fingernails and quaking hands and brought the walk-way down, before walking up it and throwing herself through the door and slumping against it like a tired wishbone, legs slipping against cheap carpet every which way. The shadows were gone and her heart returned to it's normal pace before she peeled herself off of the metallic door.

"Aiden! Aiden, you here?"

There's a soft pause, before the ruffling of sheets can be heard and thick footsteps shake the ground slightly, spilling the scent of aftershave and soap through the cabin. A boy peers through the doorway, thick brown-dyed-from-red hair mussed and eyes drooped from so many sleepless nights that Force felt her heart go out for him. But her chest leaped, not an unusual occurrence, when his face split into a wide grin and he tucked the girl under his chin lovingly.

"Thank god you're safe, I thought -"

"Don't worry about me, Cor," he murmurs into her dark hair, smoothing a strand away and pulling back, smiling at the shorter girl, before tugging his way over towards a small fridge held up by nothing more than duct-tape and hope. He holds out a drink towards her, wiggling it teasingly when she pauses. Graciously, she accepts it, tipping the soft drink back like she hasn't had one in years, and in a way, she hasn't. He slumps back onto a lumpy couch a few feet away, stretching lazily. "I didn't know the medicine got intercepted until I was a few streets away - how'd it go?"

"I wasn't there, but," she peers up shyly, fingers fiddling around the neck of the bottle from where she perches on the edge of a window. It spans the ocean, picking stars and far-off planets like they're puzzle pieces into her lap and New York fades to quiet noise as she stares at something that reminds her of home between the waves. She sighs slightly, ignoring how Aiden snuffs a good-natured laugh into the back of his hand. "They did get the medicine, but then...they -"

"I heard; tid-bits," his hand wavers as he talks, foot digging around under the couch for something as he does.

She nods. "Yeah, they...brought it back, though they cornered Rosette. We didn't know until we saw her plant pots in the upper levels writhing, and Stutter and I," she doesn't ignore the tiny fist pump he sends for his sister, smiling slightly, "we left Timeline and Gem to keep things under control and help. When we got there, that spider-themed boy...he handed over the medicine like he...didn't know he was handing us back our lives. Then, one of those SHIELD puppets attacked Rosette and we had to intercept."

"You all got back okay?" The question is rhetorical - he knows they did, they'd have had to. But the way he worries his lip and how his legs tense around the curve of the couch makes her think he just needs to hear her say it.

"Yeah, we got Rosette and the medicine back," she says, taking another soft, quick drink of her bottle, but her gentle gasp of breath afterwards sounds despondent and her eyes turn wide, still in shock, "but I thought I knew those SHIELD puppets; all of them. But, the blond that can grow fire, she said stop. She's never done that before."

"Anyone's capable of change, Cornelia."

His feet hook a bag strap on his toes, pulling it from the bottom of the couch shadowed by thick blankets. There's a clink of glass, a shudder of liquid and carefully, he hooks it over her arm when she huffs it up over her shoulder. He smiles at the blond, before weaving a scarf around her neck like a concerned older brother, causing her to lose herself beneath the new layer. Her brow raises and his chest beats with laughter.

"I know it's not far, but it's late and cold. Er, Cor," he calls when she turns towards the door, hooking a few fingers over her wrist. She peers back over the new item of red clothing - much like his original hair colour - and her brows furrow when his gaze is sent to his feet. She can see the gulp of fear that pulls itself down his throat, soft eyes staring up at her after looking down at her for so long. It reminds her of a frightened child. "How many?"

"Over three quarters."

"Why don't you just leave?" He ignores her curt reply - it's always the same, anyways. He holds tighter when she tries to pull her wrist out of his cuff-like hands. "Some of them...I get you're maternal, but it's their time. You don't have to keep doing this, all five of you. You've done enough."

"Your sister will decide that when she wants too."

"That's not what I'm talking about," and she sinks into his arms again, swallowing the sudden fear that plummets itself like fire in her stomach, sending shrapnel into her chest. She finds it hard to breathe when he talks like this, even when he's rubbing her back. "I mean - yeah, I want my sister home. But I also want my family home, all of you. You're smart; you've probably calculated their chances of survival with all types of variables, Cornelia. For some of them, there's no hope anymore."

"Aiden, no offence, but don't talk stupid," the usually warm and friendly girl, sometimes desperate for touch, pulls back from his embrace and pulls the bag higher over her sunken down shoulders. "There's always hope, there has to be. You're right, I've plotted every outcome but not for their survival rate. I've plotted for how many more we could have saved, how many we could've lost if we hadn't started this. We're the reason they're sick and injured and hurt but they're alive, and we're gonna fix it. Everything they've done to us, what they've done to them. We'll fix it."

He can practically taste the way his sister has hardened the girl. How Gem has led their rebellion with a hard fist and a kind heart, how Timeline has offered guidance and Rosette, how her short-temper has been tapered in the presence of this over-trusting girl - such a trait that would be seen as a weakness if not for her overwhelming determination. So he smiles and tucks her into another hug, soft and sweet, before letting her pull away.

"No stopping Esoteric, then? The laboratory terrorists?"

"Please; our actual definition is only to be understood by a small number of people with a specialized knowledge or interest, they don't get us."

The door closes with a soft clank on his laughter, and her smile seems perpetual when she walks off the walk-way, but suddenly, the air shifts. Her feet pause. The gravity doesn't feel right in her bones and Force can taste something that isn't touching the ground around her, something that can fly but shouldn't. Slowly, like molasses has constrained her limbs to a sticky slowness, her eyes fall on a vaguely-familiar group of people. Red, blue, white, green, yellow and black greet her in a kaleidoscope of colour, bleeding something new against the grey background of the warehouses that run along the docks of the harbor.

The tallest of the six shuffles forwards, hands open and eyes hidden behind sunglasses as her hands curl tighter around the strap of the bag and hold it closer to her body. Her feet press backwards and he holds out a hand, palm up. "Hey, it's alright. We won't hurt you, I promise," but when her brows furrow into a narrowed glare, and her shoulders slink into something historical and blood-thirsty, he stumbles over his words. "I-It's okay, you can t-trust us -"

"AIDEN!"

There isn't even hesitation as the door to the inside of the boat is thrown open and Aiden has his arm hooked behind him to hold Force closer. There's anger sprouting from every single line of his body, every breath that hooks itself through his nose like an angry bull as he holds a gun out, but his fingers shake around the trigger.

Even if he's bullet-proof, the African-american teenager still starts at the sudden weapon, holding his hands up. Behind him, Nova's aura blares brighter and White Tiger shifts further into the dark like she's been taught too. The boy sneers at them, and somehow, he can see the resemblance between Stutter and Aiden clearly in the dark. "Look man, we don't want to fight."

"From past experiences I've heard from my girls, you do."

"Not this time," counters Powerman, swiping a hand to accentuate his point. He steps forwards and even though the gun is cocked loudly when he does, he doesn't flinch. From nature or nurture, he's not sure. But the wild look in Aiden's eyes assures him he won't pull the trigger, he won't take any lives on the docks. "We want to help, to talk. We don't know you guys, what you're fighting for but we know you are fighting for something."

"You don't know anything."

"We know more than you think," says Iron Fist from his straight-backed position, and immediately, the gun is shoved in his direction. He only lowers his hands and continues, "we know that you've liberated certain objects and items from the company 'NOLE NEQUE's mirage collection, as well as desecrated many of it's laboratories in the past few months. It is illegal, and yes, we have been contacted to detain you. We know what you're doing. But we want to know why."

There's a sudden snort from behind Aiden, and something comes flying from over his shoulder, which Spiderman intercepts with a web slung to catch it. It falls back into his hand and his brow, beneath the mask, raises as he stares at a plain shoe, the soles worn and falling off the heel. But he looks up and the shoe is forgotten about when he can see Force pushing around Aiden, tears streaming unholy down her pale cheeks.

"You know nothing," she huffs, voice hoarse as she tries to control her anger on her tongue and her throat tightens, cracking her words on it's splinters. "You SHIELD dogs act like you are entitled to everything; money, recognition and even lives that you miss what's right in front of you. We aren't stealing the mirage collection - WE ARE THE MIRAGE COLLECTION!"

Another shoe sails forwards, smacking Tempest in the chest but she doesn't grunt as her eyes, from behind the mask she dons, widen further into dinner plates and sudden nostalgia, wretched and blinding, claws at her chest. And the way she sobs, thick and hiccuped as Aiden tries to hold her back and she can see the backs of Spiderman's feet lift from the ground, she can tell she's losing control of her gravity powers and the fear that eats at her, that Tempest knows so fondly, makes her feel pure sorrow for the blond.

"They hurt us, experimented on us and we had no say in it! Some of them didn't have to feel that, to have...needles everywhere, to have their lives slip out of their own control. But...people like Stutter a-and Timeline didn't have the luxury of their lives to begin with. I-I don't even know what happened to me," hopelessness is something dormant in her, something she's kept away for a long time and fingers try and pull her back from the edge of the water. But she looks up and there's sudden determination, something that she's borrowed for a little while from someone else. "But t-that doesn't matter. What matters is that we are saving them, our brothers and sisters, from people like you."

"Yanno," a sudden new voice enters, familiar and tilting with something demon-like and the Ultimates turn, and they can see Lux. She isn't in her hero costume, far from it in a short pleated red skirt, with a black and white top hanging over her frame. The thick leather jacket she wears looks more like a cape than a normal piece of clothing as the wind bounces haphazardly off the thrumming tide. Instantly, Force scrambles back when she lifts her hands towards her. "People like you are the reason I'm still kicking. Tell Gem I said hi."

There's a sudden flash, lights turning on overhead from large, giant flood lights poised on rooftops. Everyone else is blinded for a moment except Lux, whose back is towards the light. She takes the stolen moment and in seconds, knives are bled between her fingers from the light she's been given. Her hands swing outwards, sending the projectiles straight towards the blond at the end of the jetty.

She doesn't know how but Force somehow blinks away her blindness, long enough to grip Aiden around the forearm and tug him up to stand beside her. She starts sprinting, towards the water and she only hears a watery thud from a tackle when she throws them both into the writhing sea. She can only imagine who hit the docks.