School that day was interesting. Heidi's friends swarmed her, asking if she was alright, if she'd been hurt, if she needed comfort. It was what friends were supposed to do, she figured, but it was hardly necessary. She was still alive, after all, and well enough to come back to school the next day of all things. In anywhere else but Norrisville, what had happened would have been a much bigger deal, but when you lived where Heidi lived, you got used to these things happening, learned to live with them and bounce back minutes—okay, sometimes hours—later.
She wondered when Morgan and Elinor would be back. When students were turned into monsters they didn't tend to be comatose like they were for so long. She hoped they were fine, and made a point to tell her girlfriends that before first period ended. She wondered how Randy and Howard were faring. Probably bored, if she knew them. But, there'd been a light in Cunningham's eyes before they'd parted, and if it was there when she saw him next, it would be nice. She wondered what she could do for him...elevating his social status was an obvious one, but surely, there must be more. Something less...trivial.
Having a friend meant a lot more than people gave it credit for. She guessed she'd have to settle with that for now.
"Randy Cunningham is the one who found me—and Morgan and Elinor—in that cave. And you all know what my brother did by now, I bet."
That stopped everybody. Heidi sighed. It seemed she wasn't the only one who had filed her brother and Randy away in the back of their minds as unimportant. Time to fix that.
A while later second period rolled around, and Heidi felt nearly back into her routine, if it weren't for the fact she was tired of talking. That rarely happened, she loved to speak. But everyone's inquiries just wore her out.
Viceroy watched robotic arms piece together his newest project. The machinery was the epitome of precise, and he'd never known it to make an error. Carefully the different parts were welded, screwed in, or wired. Downloaded. The latest technology was used, as always. When it came to Willem Viceroy III, only the best would suffice. He interlaced his fingers, realizing he'd been standing in the same spot for far longer than a few moments. He was lost deep in thought, when the cogs started working, he found it was difficult to stop them...and why would he ever? He lived and breathed ingenuity.
This 'newest project' was yet another scheme to destroy the Ninja. It was his main job, after all, and he was paid to do it, so why not? When it was first proposed to him, he'd had doubts. He'd had fears. The Ninja was a respected individual, and all evidence pointed to the obvious fact that he was a powerful individual. He had control over the elements, could perform physical feats which defied physics blatantly. He was hundreds of years old, and as much as it stung Viceroy's pride to admit it, the man probably knew things he himself could never dream of with his years of high education.
Well, let no one say that Viceroy reacted cowardly to challenges.
Things would be easier if the Ninja had anything to really lose, something he and McFist could threaten. There was Norrisville High, which his robots attacked regularly, but there was never any loss of life. Injuries were scarce. The Ninja was that fast, he was that efficient. He was never seen except for when he was needed. He was elusive. If he didn't want to be found, he would not be found. Kind of a token ninja trait, but the Ninja took it to unnatural levels. He had to go somewhere, had to have a place to rest. He couldn't be so inhuman that he didn't need a break every few days. At least.
Viceroy frowned fiercely. He regretted not studying magic and the supernatural more in university, but at the time it hadn't been important at all. There were experts in that field who could better theorize the Ninja's nature than he could. He was sure they had. It most likely had been covered up by authorities—the Ninja was doing good things, helping people, why expose his possible weaknesses? Hm. He'd have to hack and find them out for himself, in that case.
A thought drifted across his mind. Did the Ninja have friends? Family? Relatives were impossible, he was more or less eight hundred years old, those who were closest to him in blood had died out long, long ago. Did he have a life? Had he transcended mundane trivialities...no longer needed companionship like a normal human being...
Viceroy sighed, letting the train of thought trail off.
He often did this these days. After nearly a year of hunting the Ninja, he'd come to obsess over him, hate him. Hate was not indifference. He found himself wanting to know, wanting to get every piece of information possible on the hero, and turn that information against the Ninja in every way imaginable.
Let no one say that Viceroy was not a vengeful man.
Another tense moment passed. He sat in a revolving chair.
He twirled a pen in his hand as something dawned on him.
Who was that boy?
The one who had helped the Ninja just the day before. That incident had nothing to do with Viceroy's destructive robots, and that was exactly why he had taken note of it. Any possible ally against the Ninja was worthy of being noted. Too bad, whatever that green, purple-clad 'woman' had been, she'd been apparently sealed away in some Land of Shadows, or whatever. He didn't care now that it didn't matter. What did matter was that boy.
The boy—Viceroy couldn't recall his name—had become a celebrity overnight, news vans clamored in front of Norrisville High to get an interview with him. He hadn't been spotted, probably stayed home, or sneaked in through the school doors in the crowds of students who poured in every morning. As the school was a frequent target of Viceroy's creations he was familiar with it and knew it quite well.
The Ninja...thanked the boy. In public. The first words he'd ever spoken to anyone in front of live cameras. There was no possible way to deny it, videos sprang up on the Internet like wildfire.
A devilish smirk spread across Willem Viceroy's face.
He could do something with this.