Novel Red Souls Chapter 29

A_Passing_Wanderer · Jul 7, 2017

Hello again!! It's me, Mario!!
....
.......
Well okay, I'm not. Anyways. This is my second stab at a fantasy genre novel. But here's a twist: It's not a fantasy!! Hah!!

The chapters posted here will be (very) early drafts. And I do mean early. Like, first draft kind of early.

(Thanks to @J-Mitch for the spooky but still cool cover image!!)

In a world where Superheroes and villains exist, the conflicts that can not be solved by mere words will inevitably rise.
Jack Mercer, a 17 year old high school student, becomes a victim in an unavoidable tragedy - but it also becomes the catalyst for an incredible change in him which will either lead him down the path to unparalleled greatness, or towards the cycle of the madness and darkness.

As for the release schedule, it'll be rather uneven. I'll try to keep it around three to four days, I'll post a chapter every Tuesday and Friday, and sometimes I'll replace the chapters with something that I'm more happier with.

Genre: Action, Superpowers. Urban Fantasy (man, that sounds cool.)

After following the examples of my "more experienced" peers from here and there, I've decided to ask for donations. Not asking for a lot, just maybe enough to buy a pizza now and then - that'd be nice.

paypal.me/APASSINGWANDERER

Please spoil me. Thanks in advance.

Chapter 1 (revised), here.
Chapter 2 (revised), here.
Chapter 3, here.
Chapter 4, here.
Chapter 5, here.
Chapter 6, here.
Chapter 7, here.
Chapter 8, here.
Chapter 9. here.
Chapter 10, here.

Chapter 11, here.
Chapter 12, here.
Chapter 13, here.
Chapter 14, here.
Chapter 15, here.
Chapter 16, here.
Chapter 17, here.
Chapter 18, here.
Chapter 19, here.
Chapter 20, here.

Chapter 21, here.
Chapter 22, here.
Chapter 23, here.
Chapter 24, here.
Chapter 25, here.
Chapter 26, here.
Chapter 27, here.
Chapter 28, here.
Chapter 29, here.

http://royalroadl.com/fiction/12246

http://fantasy-books.live/red-souls/red-souls/

RR Vocaloid · Mar 15, 2017

Urban Fantasy is the term you're looking for. Fantasy or supernatural stuff in a modern setting. Everything from superheroes to vampires.

A_Passing_Wanderer · Mar 19, 2017

Chapter 1

The asphalt felt cold against Jack Mercer's skin.

The 17 year old high school student's clothing was ripped and torn in places, his entire body covered in blood and wounds – a result from a powerful explosion from the school bus that he was traveling on only a couple of minutes ago.

Blood seeped into the cold and gray ground below, dying it several shades darker.

Even though it was cold, the surroundings were only getting hotter.

Cars, buses, vans, trucks – whatever – were burning all around him on the midday highway, heading into downtown. Deafening screams of the victims and the panicked running footsteps of the survivors were bouncing off all over the place. A maze of total confusion and disarray had cast its vice-like grip in the area.

Jack crawled on his front, trying to get near the burning wreck of the bus. The smell of cooking human flesh filled the air, making him wanting to hurl.

Before his blurring vision, he saw the remains of the bus that, only a moment ago, he was riding on, off to a class field trip.

Only a moment ago, he was seating inside, talking to his friends, cracking jokes and discussing the events of the previous night's baseball game, how the umpire missed that crucial thing and messing up the results.

Only a moment ago, he was desperately trying to avoid eye contacts with Emily, his ex – he still hadn't gotten over the painful break-up until then. Jack thought that one day, they'd get back together. She was his first crush, after all. And those were the hardest to get over.

And only a moment ago, the sudden traffic stopped the school bus, as well as all the other cars on the road.

That's when things went all horribly wrong.

He felt scared out of the blue, seeing the unmoving cars. He had an incredible urge to leave the bus, at any cost. He tried to tell his classmates to do the same. No one listened. Everyone thought he was just getting a car sick.

Jack stumbled out of the bus, gasping for air. His best friend, Nick Sturges, followed him out.

As Jack was trying to calm his pounding heart, that's when he saw the two fast moving figures on the horizon.

They were two Supers. Two super powered humans, currently engaged in a deadly combat. The news of the battle was all over the social media as well as regular broadcasting channels, but they all said the same thing – the battle was taking place far away from the highway. So Jack and his classmates didn't pay any attention.

Yet, there they were, battling one another, and getting ever closer to where the bus was. The traffic hold-up was because of the large scale destruction the two Supers wrought on the road up ahead.

Incredible scenes of carnage and death unfurled before Jack and Nick's terrified stares. People were blown to bits, cars were torn up and thrown away. There were screams of the victims, louder than the sound of the beating hearts in Jack's chest.

Yet, the two Supers didn't seem to care. To them, the fight was more important than the lives of some faceless numbers making up the statistics.

Jack screamed at the bus. He wanted everyone to get off, and start running away. The vehicle was immobile as there were other cars blocking the rear. In order to escape, they had to leave the school bus behind and run on foot – just like all the other fleeing civilians did.

Alas, all his effort was in vain.

A stray shot, consisting of some kind of plasma, slammed into the bus.

The resulting white-hot explosion knocked Jack and Nick off their feet and separated them. Nick crashed into the back window of a stationary SUV, while Jack slammed into the side of a delivery van.

Jack blacked out from the impact for a few seconds. When he came to, his entire body ached. There were bones protruding from his left shin. His left shoulder was dislocated, collar bones most likely broken. Numerous cuts and bruises, bleeding profusely all over. Clothing ripped and shredded, singed by the flames.

Many internal organs damaged and bleeding. His lungs were slowly filling up with liquids.

Yet, he crawled closer to the bus. In his blooming madness, he desperately hoped that someone, anyone, might have survived the explosion. He thought that if he got there, maybe he could save a life.

The crimson blood seeped into his eyes, coloring the world red. He couldn't see anything properly anymore.

He raised his only working arm, wiping away the blood and then trying to grasp the burning, twisted metal of the bus, flames dancing beyond it.

His palm began to sizzle when he finally managed to grab the exposed, heated metal frame. Jack's mind ignored the pain and pulled himself closer. He weakly shouted out Emily's name – but there were no replies.

That took away the last of his strength. Jack fell on his back weakly.

He could see the bright but pale blue sky now blighted by the rising smoke plumes.

Jack felt breathing becoming harder. He was slowly drowning in his own fluids. And as his consciousness flickered, the corner of his eyes caught the sight of numerous red mists also rising alongside the black smoke from the burning wreckage of the bus next to him.

He watched, at first stunned and curious, then in horror, as these red mists began to rise in every place where things were burning and people were lying dead.

The red mists rose above six feet in the air, before swirling and coalescing into various oval shapes. Some were large, some were small, some were in between.

One common thing they all shared, though, was their color – red. Crimson red, like the freshly spilled blood of the sacrifices doting this very highway.

As these oval shapes became more and more clearer, Jack shuddered instinctively, his mind reeling uncontrollably at the bizarre sights.

And when the oval shapes finished forming, Jack felt all the hairs on his body stand up in a pure shock, quite unlike anything he'd ever felt before in his life.

There were faces trapped inside the oval shapes. Screaming faces full of agony and terror. From the bus, each of the numerous crimson oval shapes contained screaming faces of everyone Jack recognized. There was one with Emily's face in it, even.

Jack was terrified. He felt his heart freezing up with fear of the unknown.

Why is this happening?! Is this a hallucination? Am I seeing things?!

He wanted to call out for help, call out to Emily's screaming face captured within the oval.... crystal.

But his voice wouldn't come out. Instead, only the blood that had filled his lungs gurgled out of his mouth. He was dying.

And when Jack realized this, he stopped struggling altogether. It didn't seem important, all of a sudden. At least now, he'd be able to be with Emily, and apologize to her when they meet up later. Even though he wasn't a religious type, this thought alone gave him a gentle, soothing sensation.

The sky above seemed calm, no matter the level of carnage unfolding on the ground. It seemed distant, uncaring.

Jack wanted to see those crimson oval crystals float up into the sky and disappear, the way he imagined the souls of the departed would do. That way, at least he'd know those... souls had found solace.

But no – rather than floating away, they began to float towards him. Towards Jack.

Well before he could feel fear again, those crimson oval crystals began to converge on him, like a greedy pack of hyenas jumping on top of a felled prey, their screaming mouths wide open and twisted cruelly, as if trying to devour him alive.

But rather than eating him, the crystals were absorbed into Jack's body, one by one.

Even though it was happening to him directly, Jack couldn't feel a thing. He couldn't even move a muscle. All he could do was to watch it all, totally dumbfounded and dazed.

The crimson crystals were rushing towards him from almost everywhere – not just from the burning bus. And he could see there were so many of them, these red.... souls.

And when the final one entered his body, Jack's vision grew dark. His mind sank deep within his own subconscious. It fell like a tiny pebble, dropped into a deep, bottomless well.

Jack's mind spun as he fell and fell ever deeper, until a tiny spot of light manifested itself within this unending bleak darkness.

The spot exploded into a kaleidoscope of dazzling color, swirling and dancing and overwhelming him. Jack tumbled around within this crazy light show like a stray sock inside a spinning washing machine, until the world around him opened up. Before his stunned eyes, a landscape was materializing like a mirage at first, then as something real and tangible next.

He was shocked and scared. He had no idea what was going on here. He couldn't tell whether he was going into an afterlife or not. He was expecting to see the famed Pearly Gates but this was way too weird to stomach.

And when the landscape before him finally became corporeal, more bizarre things happened.

Now, he was looking at some kind of an ancient world. Jack was standing on the balcony of a huge stone tower, a spire, overlooking the ancient city below. In the distant horizon, he saw dusty plains that stretched forever, and a clearest, bluest sky he had ever seen overhead.

Turning around, Jack was greeted by the sight of a gorgeous, scantily-clad woman who simply exuded effortless exotic charm. She lay next to a huge, saber-toothed tiger, slowly stroking its luxuriant fur affectionately.

She lifted her gaze and met Jack's dazed eyes, and with a hint of mischievousness, she beckoned him closer.

Her lips parted and whispered a word.

Jack frowned, trying to listen. But try as he might, he could not hear her.

“Who are you?”

Jack asked. Yet, his lips didn't part. No sounds left him.

Instead, the images before him blurred and began fading away.

Jack waved his hands, trying to reach out. But the fading images dissolved away, leaving behind only the empty darkness.

“Were they.... memories? My memories? But.... it can't be.”

Jack muttered to himself, utterly confused at this point. As he pondered, the inky blackness that had surrounded him began to glow in eerie red. Jack became greatly alarmed.

“What is it now?!”

Soon, the darkness was overcome by the blood-red color exploding from everywhere. The Red Souls that were absorbed into him began to appear one by one, rotating and spinning all around stupefied Jack.

There were so many in here, Jack couldn't even count the sheer numbers.

He nervously gulped, scared silly now. Yet, in the end, his curiosity won over. Jack hesitantly reached out and touched the nearest crystal.

It felt warm and hard. It shivered a little, but remained where it was before, still slowly spinning. Nothing else happened other than that.

This only made Jack even more confused than before. He didn't know what he needed to do. He felt like he was trapped in here and that he had to get out somehow, just that he had no idea how.

He felt frustrated. He felt powerless and lost. He felt so alone and confused. Totally miserable.

Among the spinning Souls, Jack tried to locate Emily's face. He remembered absorbing one with her image in it. He thought that maybe he could at least try to talk to her. Or something similar. Anything to stop himself from going crazy.

If he hadn't yet crossed that threshold already.

But before he could, he felt his chest go bump. Then, out of the blue, he heard voices. Distant, indistinct voices, calling out to him.

The crimson world quickly faded away, and Jack weakly opened his eyes. When he did, he was staring at the concerned faces of the paramedics, trying to revive him.

Edit: I've redone the chapter to the one I'm much happier with. I think the narrative flows better - although, having said that, it has grown double the length. My bad. I'll leave the original version so if you're interested, you can compare the two.

Chapter 1

“I'm telling you, that umpire messed it up, big time. That was a safe!! Look, here's my proof. Look!!”

Jack Mercer leaned over, slightly disinterested in the argument of his best friend, Nick was having with another kid in the front seat. Nick was waving his smartphone, trying to take advantage of the free wifi available on the school bus they were on currently.

To Jack's eyes, it sure looked like the umpire made the wrong call. The “ump” gave the home base out on the bottom of the eighth, and more crucially, robbing the final, decent chance for a storybook comeback for the visiting team.

Jack shrugged his shoulders and chimed in. “Yeah, well, does it matter now? Your team still lost in the end, Nick.”

“No, no, no. Okay, fine. Sure, they lost, but they shouldn't have in the first place, right? The whole thing's a conspiracy, you know? The league doesn't want my team to advance to the playoffs, I'm telling you right now.”

Jack shrugged his shoulders again. He wasn't a baseball fan to begin with, and he wasn't much of a believer in the grand theory of the big guys playing unfair over the small guys. “Whatever you say, Nicky. Just make sure you don't mention conspiracies to a stranger – they might end up with a notion that you're a nutcase.”

Nick sulked and was about to put away his phone when it chimed. A message had come through. After a quick read-through, he exclaimed aloud.

“Holy crap, man. Check this out. Sue just sent me this,” said Nick as he handed the phone over to Jack.

On the screen, there was an image, a blurry one, of two figures fighting. It sent a chill down Jack's back because he recognized the location where the fight was taking place.

“Jesus, Nicky. That's our school, isn't it? Is everyone there alright?”

Jack's little sister was also attending the same high school. He had all the right to worry. Also, his other friends were there, too. It was only his class that was on a paid-for field trip to the downtown museum of the natural science.

“Relax, Jack. Sue says these two Supers fleeted by the school's football field, that's all. No one's hurt.”

That was a good news. Sighing in relief, Jack leaned back in his seat by the windows and accidentally met with Emily's eyes. She was looking at him right then after he made the ruckus.

Quickly, both of them averted their gazes. But soon after, Jack felt ashamed for doing that. He hadn't done anything wrong here. So, he raised his head and tried to stare back but Emily was already talking to another girl next to her.

Jack felt incredibly stupid in that moment. To him, Emily, his ex-girlfriend, didn't seem too broken up about their break-up. Maybe she was more mature than he was. Maybe she knew how to handle disappointments better than he did.

Whatever, from where he was sitting currently, Emily didn't seem to mind – about everything, while Jack was having a hard time accepting it.

That was why he felt so stupid about himself. And at the same time, deeply discouraged about the prospect of getting back together. After all, it was his mistake that led to the break-up. To this very day, he still could not, for the life of him, figure out why he did what he did.

Nick didn't catch any of his friend's troubles. He was too busy checking out all the social media feeds he was a member in.

“According to the eyewitnesses, the two Supers have moved on from the suburbs. Apparently, they are heading towards the city. Huh, this field trip might get canceled, after all,” said Nick.

“I think there's a bigger issue than the possibility of our trip being a waste of time, Nick.” Jack shook his head and spoke.

“Yeah, that too.”

Nick furrowed his brows while replying to Jack.

“How long ago was that image taken?”

Nick's friend, who was arguing with about the baseball earlier on, asked.

“According to Sue, maybe five, ten minutes, tops.”

Jack sat up straight in his seat. The amount of time described sounded like a lot to him. A Super, depending on the type of the superpower, could easily reach the city limits from the school in a matter of minutes. He found it strange then, when he, who was sitting by the window, could not see the two battling Supers flying – or jumping, running, whatever – by the highway.

He felt something was wrong. As to what it was, he didn't know. And as to why he felt it, he couldn't tell that either.

A small, insistent voice was rising up within him. But he wasn't sure of what it was saying just yet.

But that noise became much louder when the school bus suddenly lurched to a halt. As a matter of fact, when Jack looked outside the window, he saw that every car on the highway R-35 Northbound had stopped for some reason. Up ahead, a massive traffic jam had developed. Quickly, the sea of unmoving cars was increasing dramatically.

Jack turned his attention back inside the bus. He heard his classmates grumbling and complaining about the sudden hold-up. Nick, in turn, was looking at him and asking him with a simple look what he could see outside. Being friends for a long time meant they could communicate just fine like that.

“Something's not right,” said Jack. “I think... we should get off the bus. Just in case.”

“But why?” Nick asked, clearly puzzled. When he saw Jack's face, he was slightly stunned. “Hey man, you okay? You look bad, like, really bad.”

It was true; Jack's face was pale, thick beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. He didn't even know he was like this. Upon noticing the sweat trails, Jack wiped them off with his black wristband. It was a gift from his younger sister for his 17th birthday a month ago.

“C'mon, let's go and talk to Mr. Johnson,” urged Jack as he got up from his seat.

Shrugging his shoulders in defeat, Nick stood up as well. The two of them approached the teacher in charge of the trip, one Mr. Johnson, to get the permission to leave the bus.

Johnson's reaction was not good like the way Nick expected it to be.

“What?! No way, guys. Get back in your seats, Mercer, Sturges. No way that I'll let guys off the bus when we're sitting in a traffic.”

It was to be expected, their teacher forbidding them from leaving the bus. After all, in a litigation-happy country like the States, it paid to be cautious of all things and matters. But Jack was not deterred. If anything, he was getting even more motivated to leave.

“But Mr. Johnson!! We need to get out of here, off this bus!!”

Jack's voice rose, drawing the attention of the rest of his classmates.

Frowning, the teacher raised his eyebrow and asked back. “Why? Why do we need to leave?”

“Because....”

Jack was going to say his intuition was telling him to get off the bus, but then, stopped. It was obvious, even to him, how absurd that sounded. Never mind also sounding like an excuse as well. No one, short of being a loon or a drunk would accept his reasoning.

“Oh, c'mon, Mr. Johnson. Look at him. Just look at Mercer. He needs fresh air. I think he might be getting a car sick. Or something. I mean, if he ends up hurling, might as well he do it outside, right?”

In the nick of time, Nick came to rescue. He spoke casually but what he said looked more or less plausible when viewed from Johnson's perspective.

Besides, when the possibility of Jack's half-digested breakfast decorating the bus's interior was brought up, the kids who heard it raised the commotion. That also helped to force Johnson's hands.

The teacher studied Jack's face for a second longer before opening his mouth. “Fine. But stay near the bus, where I can see you guys. And you come back on board when I call you, got it?”

“Will do,” Nick beamed brightly as he grabbed his friend's arm. He then pulled him out of the bus, exiting it with Jack in tow.

This wasn't what Jack wanted, but it had to do, for now. And once some outside air got into his lungs, even though it was heavily laced with the exhaust fumes of all the idling cars around him, Jack did feel a bit better.

Nick patted his back and asked. “Feel better?”

“Maybe,” Jack smiled a little, before changing the direction of his gaze toward the front of the traffic. He could see the silhouette of the city's skyline, and a long line of cars standing still. There were some drivers who had disembarked from their rides to see what the hell was going on, too.

“Wanna check out the front? See what's causing this hold-up?”

Nick whispered to him after he checked the insides of the bus. Apparently, Mr. Johnson was on his phone, speaking to someone rather animatedly. Probably the principal of the school or the director of the museum's guided tour to let them know there would be an unavoidable delay in the schedule today.

In other words, their strict minder was not minding them at that moment.

Nodding his assent, Jack motioned with his chin, not saying anything else. And in a blink of an eye, the two boys hurriedly ran forward, weaving past the parked but still humming vehicles.

As they went past an SUV, Jack saw a kid, about 10 years old, sitting in the back and staring at the outside with a bored expression. Their eyes briefly met, and the young boy smiled impishly. Jack returned the smile and gave the boy a small wave, too.

Less than a minute of running later, they arrived at the place where the police had cordoned off the highway. There were lots of people pacing back and forth near the barricades, manning their phones, looking rather worried and all.

Jack led his best friend over to a police officer who was the nearest to them and asked. “Officer, can you tell us what's going on?”

He was a gruff-looking, slightly overweight highway patrolman in his forties, with a 70s pornstar mustache and the matching aviator shades to boot. He was slowly chewing on a gum in a rather showy fashion as if such an action made him look like a tough guy.

The patrolman pointed his thumb behind him and spoke in a practiced monotone. “Some stuff about two Supers duking it out. The area up ahead is dangerous and thus the road is closed for a foreseeable future. Please return to your vehicles until the situation is under control. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Nick was going to retort to the robotic and disinterested cop when Jack shook his head. It was better not to poke a sleeping lion with a stick, so to speak. Who knows what kind of dissatisfied life this man may have lived? No point in setting off a bomb with a smart comeback that wasn't really necessary.

So the two of them began walking back. Since they knew the cause of the traffic, they needed to get back to the bus before their punishment grew larger.

But they didn't take too many steps - because there was a small splattering sound coming from behind them which was soon followed by another, softer splat. Then, a disembodied head, still wearing a helmet, shades and all, rolled by the two shocked boys.

When they turned around to see what happened, they saw a pool of gore where the patrolman was standing a minute ago. That wasn't all; there were other pools of blood, and some of the barricades were in the middle of melting down as well.

Just beyond that, two figures, one hovering in the air, while the other, dashing across the ground, busy firing green plasma-like substance at the hovering figure.

When that green substance struck a car next to Jack, the metal on the vehicle hissed, and began melting.

Needless to say, people began screaming. And quickly, all hell broke loose.

Jack grabbed shocked Nick and wordlessly ran. He ran hard, pushing and shoving the screaming walls of people, disorganized and stumbling over themselves to get away.

By the time Jack ran past the SUV with the kid in the backseat, there were several loud, thumping explosions coming from behind him. Cars were going boom everywhere.

The concrete below them buckled and twisted at the resonating shock waves.

“Damn it!!”

Gritting his teeth, Jack desperately tried to regain his balance. Nick had already fallen over on his rear.

Another loud explosion, this time sounding closer than before. Even the faint, distant heat of the flames reached his cheek, sending another bout of chill to run down his spine.

Jack helped up his friend to his feet and they resumed running. The school bus was now in view, and the faces of confused passengers could be seen beyond the glass.

Jack hurriedly waved his arms, frantically trying to draw their attention.

“Get out of the bus!! Run!! Run!!”

He shouted. Nick too, waved his arms like a madman.

But other than the teacher, no one had come out of the bus. Johnson climbed out and was about to receive the boys angrily when his complexions changed.

It was when Jack got near the bus when a stray shot from one of the two Supers struck the bus. The resulting explosion shoved Jack into the side of a delivery van, while Nick was forced into the back of another SUV.

~

When Jack recovered his consciousness, he found himself in agonizing pain. He wanted to scream out but he could not form any sound in his mouth. He wasn't sure where he was, he felt completely disoriented, and his entire body ached and hurt like crazy.

He groaned and tried to wade himself out of the cradle of bent metals. His clothing, which was already in shreds, got further torn to bits as the material got caught on the sharp edges.

Some even sliced his skin, drawing even more blood than before. But Jack couldn't feel that. As he freed his trapped body from the metal confinement, he fell head first on the ground. The asphalt below felt cold against Jack's skin.

Blood seeped into the cold and gray ground below, dying it several shades darker.

Even though it was cold, the surroundings were only getting hotter.

Jack could see a sea of flames, burning brightly all around him. Cars, buses, vans, trucks – whatever – were burning, like a field of flowers on fire.

Jack heard the faint and distant screams of the victims and the panicked running footsteps of the survivors. From where they were coming from – were they near? Were they far? Jack couldn't be sure. He was too dazed and in pain to think clearly.

But the dancing shadows of others painted the picture of a maze of total confusion and disarray that had cast its vice-like grip in the area.

Jack crawled on his front, trying to get near the burning wreck of the bus. The smell of cooking human flesh filled the air, making him wanting to hurl.

Before his blurring vision, he saw the remains of the bus that, only a moment ago, he was riding on.

Only a moment ago, he was seating inside, talking to his friends about a ball game.

Only a moment ago, he was avoiding making eye contacts with Emily too scared and stupid to make up with her.

Only a moment ago, his life was normal, unremarkable, safe. He was a normal kid, living a normal life.

Yet, here he was, lying in the rapidly forming pool of his own blood.

The two Supers, the two responsible for the carnage, had already flown past, uncaring and forgetting about the cost they left behind. To the two of them, this battle was more important than the lives of some faceless numbers making up the statistics.

Jack felt tears forming on the corners of his eyes, from the immense pain, from the immense anger, from the realization of what had happened right before his eyes.

He crawled a bit more forward, dragging his broken and bleeding body. There were bones protruding from his left shin. His left shoulder was dislocated, collar bones most likely broken. Numerous cuts and bruises, bleeding profusely all over. Clothing ripped and shredded, singed by the flames. Many internal organs damaged and bleeding. His lungs were slowly filling up with liquids.

Yet, he never stopped crawling closer to the bus. In his blooming madness, he desperately hoped that someone, anyone, might have survived the explosion. He thought that if he got there, maybe he could save a life.

The crimson blood seeped into his eyes, coloring the world red. He couldn't see anything properly anymore.

He raised his only working arm, wiping away the blood and then trying to grasp the burning, twisted metal of the bus, flames dancing beyond it.

His palm began to sizzle when he finally managed to grab the exposed, heated metal frame. Jack's mind ignored the pain and pulled himself closer. He weakly shouted out Emily's name. He called out other names. He called out for anyone.

But there were no replies. Not a single one.

The despair he felt during the moment took away the last of his strength. Jack limply fell, and rolled on his back. Now, his vision was filled with the bright but pale blue sky blighted only by the rising smoke plumes.

Jack felt breathing becoming harder. He was slowly drowning in his own fluids. He knew, almost instinctively, that he was going to die here. He didn't want to, but the prospect of not needing to suffer through this horrendous pain seemed rather appealing to him right then.

His consciousness began to flicker. His eyes swam. All colors from the world seemed to drain away, turning his vision black and white.

In this colorless world, even the ambient sounds were lost. Now, Jack was trapped in a world of vacuum, alone. But because of the utter isolation, even the smallest changes could be easily spotted.

And so, Jack caught the sight of something red, slowing rising from the burning wrecks. One by one, numerous mists of blood-red crimson rose among the black smoke. From the van he crashed into, from the car next to him, and most of all, a lot of the red mist rising from the school bus.

He watched, at first stunned and curious, then in horror, as these red mists began to rise in every place where things were burning and people were lying dead.

The red mists rose up to around six feet in the air, before swirling and coalescing into oval shapes of various sizes. Some were large, some were small, some were in between. One common thing they all shared, though, was their color – red. Crimson red, like the freshly spilled blood of the sacrifices doting this very highway.

As these oval shapes became more and more clearer, Jack shuddered involuntarily, his mind reeling uncontrollably at the bizarre sights occurring around with him as the epicenter.

And when the oval shapes finished forming into solid objects, Jack felt all the hairs on his body stand up in a pure shock, quite unlike anything he'd ever felt before in his life.

There were faces trapped inside the oval shapes. Screaming faces full of agony and terror. Worst of all, each of the numerous crimson oval shapes formed from the bus contained screaming faces of everyone Jack recognized. There was one with Emily's face in it, even.

Jack was petrified. He felt his heart freezing up with fear of the unknown. An urgent desire to escape this place filled him up but his rapidly stiffening body wouldn't let him.

Why is this happening?! Is this a hallucination? Am I seeing things?!

He wanted to call out for help, call out to Emily's screaming face captured within the oval.... crystal. He just wanted someone to hear his cries.

But no voice came out. Instead, only the blood that had filled his lungs gurgled out of his mouth.

Am I going to die like this? Jack thought bitterly. I haven't done anything yet. I haven't even achieved a thing. But, like this, I'll die?!

The sky above seemed calm, no matter the level of carnage unfolding on the ground. It seemed distant, uncaring. It seemed as if none of his pain and suffering mattered in the grand scheme of things, in the flow of the cosmos and all that stuff.

He felt rage building up within him. His eyes were literally reddening with pure madness. He wanted to curse the sky for its indifference, he wanted to curse the two Supers for putting him in this situation, and he wanted the overturn the unfairness of it all by his own hands.

Only if he had power.

As if to heed his call, the red crystals began floating towards him. Towards Jack.

As he howled silently in anguish, those crimson oval crystals converged on him, like a greedy pack of hyenas jumping on top of a felled prey. Their screaming mouths were wide open and twisted cruelly, as if trying to devour him alive.

But rather than eating him alive, the crystals were directly absorbed into Jack's body, one by one.

Jack stopped his soundless screams and watched the whole thing unfold, shocked and surprised. Even though it was happening to his body directly, Jack couldn't feel a thing. He couldn't even move a muscle. All he could do was to watch, unable to resist.

The crimson crystals rushed towards him from almost everywhere – not just from the burning bus. And he could see there were so many of them, these red.... souls.

And when the final one entered his body, Jack's vision grew dim. His mind sank deep within his own subconscious. It fell like a tiny pebble, dropped into a deep, dark, bottomless well.

Jack's mind spun as he fell and fell ever deeper, until a tiny spot of light manifested itself within this unending bleak darkness.

Then, the spot exploded into a kaleidoscope of dazzling color, swirling and dancing and overwhelming him. Jack tumbled around within this crazy light show like a stray sock inside a spinning washing machine, until the world around him opened up. Before his stunned eyes, a landscape was materializing like a mirage at first, then as something real and tangible next. Like a sudden projection of a 3D image, the whole world slammed into him, sucking him in.

Jack, at this point, was clearly shocked and scared. He had no idea what was going on here. Was this the afterlife? He was half expecting the famed Pearly Gates and the presiding angels to welcome him but this....

The world before him was not heaven, he was quite sure of that.

Because, he was staring at some kind of an ancient world.

Jack was standing on the balcony of a huge stone tower, a spire, overlooking the ancient city below. In the distant horizon, he saw dusty, desert-like plains and savannahs that stretched forever, and a clearest, bluest sky he had ever seen overhead. And even further than that, like a mirage, a huge structure that stretched beyond to the sky.

Turning around, Jack stumbled inside. There were lavish decorations of gold and silk everywhere, all emanating the feel of some mystical, Oriental realm. And before his dazed eyes, he was greeted by the sight of a gorgeous, scantily-clad raven-haired woman who simply exuded effortless exotic charm. She was lying next to a huge, saber-toothed tiger, slowly stroking its luxuriant fur affectionately.

She lifted her gaze and met Jack's dazed eyes, and with a hint of mischievousness, she beckoned him closer.

Her lips parted and whispered a word.

Jack frowned, trying to listen. But try as he might, he could not hear her.

“Who are you?”

Jack asked. Yet, his lips didn't part. More correctly, his body wasn't speaking. Rather, it approached the woman and lied down next to her, slowly embracing her.

Then, the images before him blurred and began fading away.

Jack waved his hands, trying to reach out. But the fading images dissolved away, leaving behind only the empty darkness.

“Were they.... memories? My memories? But.... it can't be.”

Jack muttered to himself, utterly confused at this point. As he pondered, the inky blackness that had surrounded him began to glow in eerie red. Jack became greatly alarmed.

“What is it now?!”

Soon, the darkness was overcome by the blood-red color exploding from everywhere. The Red Souls that were absorbed into him began to appear one by one, rotating and spinning all around stupefied Jack.

There were so many in here, Jack couldn't even count the sheer numbers.

He nervously gulped, scared silly now. Yet, in the end, his curiosity won over. Jack hesitantly reached out and touched the nearest crystal.

It felt warm and hard. It shivered a little, but remained where it was before, still slowly spinning. Nothing else happened other than that.

This only made Jack even more confused than before. He didn't know what he needed to do. He felt like he was trapped in here and that he had to get out somehow, just that he had no idea how.

He felt frustrated. He felt powerless and lost. He felt so alone and confused. Totally miserable.

Among the spinning Souls, Jack tried to locate Emily's face. He remembered absorbing one with her image in it. He thought that maybe he could at least try to talk to her. Or something similar. Anything to stop himself from going crazy.

If he hadn't yet crossed that threshold already.

But before he could, he felt his chest go bump. Then, out of the blue, he heard voices. Distant, indistinct voices, calling out to him.

The crimson world quickly faded away, and Jack weakly opened his eyes. When he did, he was staring at the concerned faces of the paramedics, trying to revive him.

Next chapter's is due in a couple of days.

A_Passing_Wanderer · Mar 27, 2017

Chapter 2

It was on the evening of an unknown day when Jack finally stirred and woke up from his coma. By then, the operation to save his life was completed, with him managing to survive the intense and difficult procedure. His head was foggy, he felt seriously lethargic, and worst of all, he felt like he nearly crossed the River Styx halfway before being dragged back.

The first thing he could see was the gray ceiling above. And then the small, darkened, and quiet hospital room. Then, the most welcoming sights of his family all in a deep, tired sleep near his hospital bed.

Their slumber seemed fitful but things like their own soft breathing sounds, the constant ticking of the monitoring machines, or the indistinct murmurs from the hallway could not break this valuable resting time for them. His father, Bob Mercer, his mother, Min-jung Kim Mercer and his younger sister, Dana were sprawled out in the various corners of the hospital room.

Jack blinked his eyes a few times, wondering whether the scene was real and not a figment of his imagination. He was happy to see them, of course, but he just wanted to make sure. He did go through some crazy stuff, after all.

Bob was leaning over the visitor's chair by the window that had the thick curtains drawn over it, drooling slightly as his head rolled to a side. Min-jung was occupying another chair near him, with a coat acting as a blanket. She looked cozy at a first glance but Jack could see that her eyebrows were twitching, forming a slight frown as if she was having a difficult dream.

Dana was leaning on the foot of the bed, tightly clutching Jack's duvet. She seemed to be in a better condition than her mother, but not by much.

Seeing their faces, Jack felt a warming feeling spread inside his heart. For a moment there, his confusion and uncertainty no longer affected him. He felt safe and crucially, alive.

Jack looked at his own body for a second and felt utterly amazed at his own condition. For a lack of better comparison, he looked like a mummy crossed with a bizarre science experiment. Just how did he survive, he had no idea.

He had various tubes sticking out of him, the entirety of his body was in heavy bandages and his limbs, apart from the right arm, were all restrained to stop them from moving. In short, he looked terrible.

Jack sighed weakly. At least he had survived. That was.... a relief. But he wasn't sure why he felt so down when he was finally assured of his own survival.

His thoughts soon buzzed around as he was deeply worried about Nick's condition. Did he also make it okay? Did he survive and was recuperating nearby? What had happened to him afterward?

And.... what about the rest of his class? Did they make it out of the explosion, too?

When he thought about that, the chilling goosebumps rose on his skin as the images of those floating red souls invaded his mind. The screaming, agonized faces of the dead were still too vivid in his mind to ignore. No matter what, they were all too real.

And then, he also remembered that strange.... dream, of the ancient civilization and that.... woman. What did that dream mean? Who was that woman? Why did he feel so comfortable around her?

Why did he feel that those images, those sceneries, the face of that woman, were memories of his past and not some crazy delusions cooked up by a hormonal teenager?

His thoughts became mired in disarray as he tried to figure out what was happening to him – from the shock of the events, from the drugs coursing in his system, from the mental tiredness he was suffering from all had a negative impact. He didn't need anyone to tell him that, for now, he had to get some rest. After he was healed a bit more, maybe then, he could try to solve all these questions burning a hole in his head.

He sighed again, suddenly feeling heavy as the previously mentioned tiredness swept him up. Jack heard Dana whisper his name, her face now looking less worried than before. Jack wanted to reach out and gently stroke her head but he had no strength left to do that.

Giving up reluctantly, he closed his eyes and tried to get back to sleep.

~

Try as he might, he couldn't catch any Zs without the help of drugs.

Instead, his consciousness slowly fell down the proverbial rabbit hole and slipped into a dark, empty world where Jack found himself floating freely, blind and utterly cut off from everything. Suffice to say, he was not even remotely amused.

When he looked down on his body, he was not bound by anything; no tubes, no bandages, no wounds, nor was he wearing a scrap of clothing. But Jack didn't feel cold at all, and somehow, didn't feel embarrassed about the exposure of his privates.

At first, he did question his sanity, wondering aloud whether this black space, his current condition and the overall tranquility that pervaded this world were all a result of him going mad. Or, he did fall asleep and now was dreaming one weird dream. After all, he did try pretty hard to sleep so it was only natural to think this.

However, he soon came to a conclusion that this wasn't what he thought it was. Why? Simple, really.

The black, featureless world was soon converted into a blood-red one, filled with the shining red crystal-like souls being the main source of all that crimson hue. It was literally red everywhere, like as if the whole world was dipped into the overflowing river of blood.

Jack gulped nervously. He was floating there, surrounded by these mysterious and horrifying things everywhere he could see. Understandably, he was deeply apprehensive of this new and unwelcome change.

His eyes searched around for the faces of people he knew and cared about among the souls, and soon saw his classmates grouped together in one section.

He willed himself to float towards them – and rather than him moving, the sea of red seemed to shift like the parting waves. The group of red souls then flickered and seemingly, in a blink of an eye, teleported right before his stunned face.

Jack shuddered as he witnessed the familiar faces, still shrieking in agony, trapped within these.... crystal things. No sound came out of them, perhaps mercifully sparing him from enduring the pained screams of people he grew up to know well.

Jack slowly, hesitantly reached out and touched the nearest one. It was the bus driver's soul, about the size of a basketball. It was warm and hard to the touch and was gently pushed away as his fingers made contact with the surface.

The soul crystal spun and suddenly ripples spread out from where Jack touched it. And with a soft “pah!!” the crystal dissolved into a fine, powdery mist.

It didn't stop there. Instead of dispersing away, the mist then surrounded Jack and slowly rotated around him.

At first, he got really surprised and scared at this new development. He thought that he had done something bad to the soul, that he had somehow managed to destroy the damn thing and thereby killing off the soul itself. If it were so, then he'd be feeling so unbelievably miserable of himself.

But then, gradually, a certain feeling, a sense really, of familiarity of this situation settled in him. It was hard to explain what was so familiar to him in the first place. It was kinda like, he knew this was supposed to happen. That it was normal.

As to why it was so – why he felt that way – Jack could not come up with anything plausible. The best he could think of was that, he already knew but had forgotten it, only now remembering the details, one at the time.

For the proof, he only needed to simply think about redirecting the flowing red mist, and the desired result immediately occurred. It changed the direction of its movement with not a sign of hesitation nor resistance. To make sure he was right, Jack tried it a couple more times until he was fully satisfied.

But he wasn't really satisfied with this much. It felt like he was missing something vital, something important. He just wasn't sure of what exactly. It was right at the tip of his tongue, teasingly beyond the reach.

He floated there, surrounded by the red mist and the red soul crystals, pondering. He pondered about ways to leave this place, he pondered about what he had apparently forgotten, and he also pondered about the implications of these red souls inside of him.

“Could it be... Am I a Super, too?”

No matter what, Jack could not shake this notion out of his mind. Unless he was crazy, of course. Then all of this was just nothing but him seeing things that weren't there. But if he wasn't going mad, then...

“Then, I must be a Super. It has to be.”

Jack breathed in deeply, quite bitter at the prospect of being treated the same as one of those bastards that murdered his friends. He just couldn't bear the thought of it at all, the ultimate insult.

“No, wait a minute here. If I am a Super, then, doesn't that mean.... I have the power, potentially, to take those two killers down?”

Jack felt as if a lightning had struck him.

The mere thought of being a Super powerful enough to exact the righteous retribution to the guilty ones shook him very hard, deep into his core. As a matter of fact, the crimson world began to vibrate, causing numerous large ripples to break out.

“But.... can I? Really?”

Jack hesitated. Actually, he was fearful. For now, he didn't want to do anything but hide in a dark room and not come out until the world was safe again.

And now, he felt so frustrated. With himself, with what was happening to him, and with this feeling of helplessness.

Clutching his fist in a fit of anger, he angrily screamed out.

His voice echoed in the crimson world. The ripples quietened down as the sound waves met with them. The calm stillness was soon restored, with nary a hint of anything ever happening here.

Soon even his voice was gone. His throat hurt from the overuse although he wasn't really using it. It burned and itched, making him desire for a soothing balm of some kind.

As if to answer this call for relief, the red mist swirled and shot into his throat area directly. Jack stiffened, but he couldn't do a thing as the mist was absorbed into him.

It was a slightly different sensation compared to when the red soul crystals entered him back on the highway. Back then, whether due to the blood loss or the brain blocking out the excruciating pain, he didn't feel a thing but now, he felt like something hot and heavy was pressing down on his skin, then against the muscles in his neck - then, even down to the bones there.

It was not to the level of being intolerable, but still, Jack found the experience very unpleasant.

The mist was completely absorbed into his neck, and just like that, hoarseness in his throat was all gone. He felt refreshed, for the lack of better description. At the same time, not a drop of that red mist made up of the teacher's soul remained. Jack couldn't even sense it anymore. It was gone for good.

“What the.... what the hell was that all about?!”

~

That was only the first part of the bizarre development.

When Jack woke up next morning, he was still trapped in his hospital bed, bandaged and tubed up. But, something had changed.

It had nothing to do with the jubilation his family showed upon his awakening. Of course, that was a wonderful, cheerful event, filled with great eruptions of emotions both relieved and happy.

“You really had us worried there, son,” said Bob as he affectionately rubbed Jack's head.

Dana was busy wiping away her tears and trying to smile, her words choked up and stuttering slightly. “Gosh, you idiot. Finally, you came around. I'm so glad.”

As for his mother, she was smiling ear to ear but at the same, busy checking out Jack's vitals displayed on the banks of monitors next to his bed.

Min-jung was a world-renowned geneticist with several doctorates in medicine. She was more than qualified to check her son's conditions. And to her learned eyes, the reading on Jack's condition was decidedly stable, on course for a full recovery.

She sighed in relief. She was there during the surgery, helping out where she could. The hospital they were in, were a military-run, possessing the best available technology to patch up her son. Bringing Jack here was her decision – she knew many high-ups in this place, she was familiar with the tech, and she knew Jack would receive the best care there was.

And for the sake of security, too – ever since the destruction of the Route R-35 Northbound highway, the local and international media were camping out on the school grounds, filming and generally harassing the grieving students and the parents for a slice of the primetime slot.

At least here, both Nick and Jack was assured of some privacy, shielded away from the prying, nosy attentions of the vociferous media outlets.

On top of that, now there were the elements of politics being shoved into the whole tragedy.

Riding on the sentiments of negativity, politicians were trying to score some points for the upcoming election season. There were activists trying to earn some face time on television pretending to be smarter than they actually were.

There were daily protests happening all over the nation, all around the globe – the battle of the R-35 had become a global event now.

So it was good to be away from all that madness, for the family and for the patient himself. That's what Min-jung thought.

As she sat on the side of the bed, Min-jung spoke in a warm voice. “Jack, you've been through a lot. For now, don't worry about anything. Just concentrate on getting better. Alright?”

Jack nodded.

But when he did, Min-jung's eyes twitched in surprise. Her son's neck was also badly injured, most of the skin and muscle tissues burnt by the explosion. When he was brought in, Jack shouldn't even be able to move his head, never mind give her a nod. But only a few days after the surgery, he gave her a nod. That shouldn't have happened yet.

She kept this fact to herself and didn't say a thing until the rest of the family went their separate ways; Bob had to go back to work, Dana had to go back home to get a change of clothes and rest herself.

As for Min-jung....

After sending her family away, she asked the head nurse on call to change Jack's bandages for cleaner ones. She stood nearby, observing when the nurses came in to do just that.

To her massive shock, Jack's neck and throat area were completely healed - outwardly at least. The pristine, unsullied skin on his neck was revealed the moment the bandages came off. Even the nurses showed some confusion – although, they thought the previous staff may have made a mistake when wrapping the boy up.

After the nurses were finished and left the two of them alone, Min-jung carefully asked her son.

“Jack, how are you feeling?”

“I guess... it's okay, considering.” Jack replied, sounding a little weak.

“Feel any different? You know, besides the drugs in your system making you drowsy.”

Jack frowned and hesitated for a brief second. He almost said out aloud the matters of the red soul crystals and the crimson world, but for some reason, he didn't want to say it. Especially, not to his mom.

“No, not really. Yeah, I am drowsy, that's for sure.”

Min-jung narrowed her eyes but didn't press any further. “If you feel weird, even if it's just a tiny bit, tell me, alright? Besides being your mother, I'm a pretty good doctor, I'll have you know. So you can trust my prognosis.”

“Yeah well, that's a given, mom.”

Jack chuckled, trying his best to hide the slight guilt in his heart from tainting his voice or his facial expression.

Min-jung wanted to stay and chat for longer but her phone went off. Sighing, she got up and left Jack's side.

“I'll return later to check on you. Get plenty of rest, Jack.”

“I know, mom.”

After sending her away, Jack was left alone in the room. He breathed in deeply, and slowly raised his one arm that wasn't tethered to anything to touch his neck.

He wasn't a dummy – he noticed that something had changed with his neck, too. And when he did touch there, he was thoroughly shocked himself.

It took a while to calm down but eventually, he did. Only then, was he able to coolly assess why his neck was fine while the rest of his body looked like crap.

There was only one logical answer, though.

“It's the red soul mist....”

Jack imperceptibly murmured to no one in particular.

He had no doubt that the red soul “mist” his neck had absorbed was the cause for the near-miraculous recovery. Even though he had absorbed it in an illusory world within his mind, the effects were showing in the real world.

“Oh my god. I am a Super....”

Jack felt like grabbing his head in anger and shame. To be just like those bastards....

But he also remembered that, if this Superpower being manifested in him was a particularly useful one, then he could bring the ones responsible to justice. So that was good.

He breathed in deeply. Jack knew there was nothing he could do to change his fate now. To his knowledge, a human being had one in a million chance in manifesting a Superpower. Not all of that power was good or strong, but if he was lucky enough, then he just might be able to....

Anyways, Jack thought that he needed to experiment first. He needed to find out more about this power of his, explore it in depth and figure out its limits and attributes.

Most importantly, he needed to quickly find out how he could go back to that crimson world and begin absorbing the red souls. It'd be a slight bother to fall asleep just to enter there every time he needed to “power up.”

But first....

Jack became too drowsy as the drugs coursed within his veins. And he fell into yet another deep sleep.

To his relief, though – he ended up in the crimson world, so that was okay in the end.

“Alright, since I'm here, might as well start the experiments,” said Jack, as he tightly clenched his fists.

To be brutally honest, I'm not 100% happy with this chapter - nor am I with the first one. Hmm, looks like I might have to come back and redo them some time in the future.

Any inputs will be greatly appreciated.

Edit (March 27th): Holy cow. I haven't been able to get any writing done for the last couple of days. Like, none at all. Sigh. But I did manage to finish the revised fourth draft of this chapter.

Chapter 2

Jack's consciousness slowly came back to him. When he opened his heavy eyes, he was lying on a spacious bed in a darkened room. He knew instinctively that this was a hospital.

The lights were off, and there were heavy curtains drawn over the windows. It was dark outside, anyway – no light to enter in the first place unless all that sparkling city lights were counted as one.

His head ached like crazy. Funny thing was, though, he also felt as if swimming in the ocean full of oil, judging by how lethargic he felt right then. A throbbing head and a reticent body – a strange combination indeed.

How long have I been out for?

Jack closed his eyes and tried to recall. For obvious reasons, he couldn't make heads nor tails of the amount of time he spent lying here. It only made his headache worse.

Looking at his own body, what with the limited mobility his neck had currently, Jack pretty much understood the grim situation he was in. He was wrapped completely in bandages, from head to toe. There were various tubes coming out of him and electrodes attached to his chest, head, wherever – he didn't so much look like a patient but a science experiment with the amount of things sticking out of him.

Even he could tell the operations to save his sorry ass were monumental in difficulty. At least he knew they had succeeded – otherwise, he wouldn't have woken at all.

Then, he fell into a sudden bout of panic. Was he the only one to survive? What about Nick? Jack remembered seeing his friend standing right by his side. What happened to him? And what about the bus and its passengers? Did they survive?

Where were they?

Jack's head hurt even more. It was like a dozen or so scalpels digging into his brain. A small groan escaped his lips.

He tried to raise his hands, his arms, and massage his aching head. Only then, did he notice the restraints placed on all but one of his limbs. His right arm was the lucky, untethered one. Even that was wrapped in several smaller bandages with signs of careful stitching evident.

Those restraints were there to prevent Jack from moving his damaged limbs, lest he banged them on the railings of his bed and hurt them further. Still, it was not a good feeling to see his own body strapped down like that, like a dangerous mental patient in a psychiatric ward.

In this state, he couldn't even call for a night nurse via a remote that was on the wall right next to his head.

There was a soft click, a sound of a door opening. When Jack concentrated, he could see that there was a sliver of amber light coming out from the far-side wall from his bed. Through the crack of the opening, he saw a bathroom and then, the figure of his father, Bob Mercer, emerging from it. He was trying to move around as quietly as possible.

Because of that light, Jack could see that he was not alone in the room after all. Jack saw his younger sister, Dana Mercer, by the foot of his bed. She was sitting on a chair but slumped forward, resting her torso on the mattress. She was sound asleep, but her brows twitched occasionally as if to let him know that she wasn't having a nice little dream.

Jack's mother, Min-jung Mercer, was occupying a chair near the window. She too was asleep, with a coat acting as her blanket. There was a worried frown on her face as well, just her daughter.

Bob looked tired, the soft amber lighting accentuating the creases on his face. But his expression brightened the moment he saw Jack's eyes open and staring at him.

Bob quickly made his way next to his son and stroked his head.

“Hey, you woke up. How are you feeling right now?”

“...Like crap, dad.”

Jack groaned out slowly. His voice sounded unnatural to his ears.

“Yeah, well. That's to be expected, I guess. Welcome back, son.”

Bob couldn't hide his relief as he sighed loudly. He then woke the rest of his family up for a tearful reunion. First, it was Dana. She was the closest after all.

When she was roused, at first she was confused but, as soon as she saw her brother's open eyes, she burst out in tears.

“Jack, you are awake!!”

She nearly jumped on the bed to hug him. Only after Bob hurriedly stopped her did she calm down a little and instead decided to hold his hands and wipe her overflowing waterworks.

“Gosh, you had us so worried!!”

She beamed widely as she squeezed the top of his bandaged hand.

Her raised voice also had the effect of waking up Min-jung. She brushed her heavy eyelids before gaining cognizance of the events in the room. And a large, relieved smile spread on her face. It had been two days of uncertainty, two whole days of waiting and more waiting.

Seeing her family smiling like that, all her worries and fatigue accumulated from the past couple of days melted away. The memories of frantically trying to save Jack with her medical skills were now very distant in her minds.

She shrugged off the coat and got up, and quickly joined the rest of her family in celebrating Jack's awakening.

“How are you feeling?” Min-jung asked as she checked Jack's vitals via the monitor displays. Her trained eyes quickly scanned each monitor for anything strange or alarming, but there were none.

Jack smiled faintly and wanted to shake his head, but the thick bandages meant that wasn't possible. So, he simply muttered.

“Not so good. Well, you're a doctor, so you tell me, mom.”

She chuckled and stroked his cheeks. “Well, my prognosis is that you need to rest up some more and get your strength back before acting like a smart ass.”

“Roger that,” Jack smiled weakly before he remembered the questions in his mind. “Mom, dad – how long has it been? Where's everybody? Are they alright? What about Nick?”

With the exception of Jack, whose face was already pale, all three present felt the blood drain from their faces. Dana hesitantly looked at her parents to find some guidance but she saw that even they were at a loss to say what happened while he was out cold.

Finally, it was Bob who braved it and spoke out the words.

“Nick's in another room. His operation went well, but he hadn't woken up yet. As for the others.... Right now, that's all you need to know. Get well first, then we'll talk about it in depth. I promise.”

It was an unsatisfying answer. Jack wanted to argue for a bit longer, but his intense headache was still with him, gnawing at his patience. So he asked for a sip of water instead.

As Bob and Dana helped out with that, Min-jung went to the chair to get her coat and saw her smartphone on top of a small round table. Out of habit, she picked it up and checked for messages.

There was one. The time stamp showed she was asleep when it came. She frowned slightly at the number, before grasping the phone tightly. She turned around to face her family and spoke.

“I'll go get the nurses. Wait for me.”

After that, she left the hospital room and entered the quiet corridor. There was a soft murmur from the nurse's station at the end of the passage but otherwise, all was deathly silent. Even the lighting was muted to reinforce the silence.

She quickly checked the message on the phone. It said:

How is your son doing?

Nothing else other than that simple inquiry.

Min-jung's frown grew deeper but she shook head and began typing a message of her own.

He's fine, just woken up now. Don't contact me again. I'll contact you instead.

She made sure no one else was around her before putting away the phone in her pocket.

While Min-jung was outside, the talk inside hadn't progressed much. Both Bob and Dana were doing their best to make him feel relaxed, but inwardly, Jack was feeling nothing but that.

His mind was occupied with those red crystal-like things. Those red.... souls of the dead. Also, that.... dream world of red crimson orbs, crystals, whatever they were. Whether that was a dream or not, Jack couldn't be sure, but he was certain of one thing – that he'd run into that world sooner rather than later.

When he thought like that, he felt a line of cold goosebumps forming on his skin. What's left exposed, anyways. Jack was emphatically not looking forward to encountering more of those screaming, agonized faces trapped in some bizarre crystalline things, all yelling at him and the like. He wanted it to be nothing more than him hallucinating things, but he knew better. They were as real as reality got.

Speaking of hallucinations, Jack also remembered dreaming about the ancient world, its crisp blue skies, and that... woman.

Who was she?

Jack silently mulled this question. Why did she feel so familiar? Where had he seen her before? Why did all of those felt like memories, rather than... an imagination? Questions upon questions with no answers. It was all rather damn frustrating.

He gazed at the happy faces of his father and sister, then at the nurses' and Min-jung's, and thought, Do I need to tell them? Do I? But can I?

Jack wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of him not imagining things, that he wasn't making up some crazy fantasy. At the same time.... if what he saw was real then he needed to understand a bit more before he was comfortable enough to talk about it.

The nurses and Min-jung checked Jack's vitals, recorded some things on the charts, and spoke to Jack, asking him about this and that. One thing he noted from them, was that they were not like regular nurses – he got the feeling he recognized the uniforms.

After the nurses left, he asked his parents to confirm his suspicions.

“This isn't a normal hospital, is it?”

“No, it isn't,” replied Min-jung. “We are at the Fort McNamus Hospital. You remember this place, right?”

“Yeah, you used to work here. And brought me here often.”

Min-jung smiled and nodded. “Yeah I did, didn't I? Well, that was before I went full civilian, though. Don't worry, you can concentrate on getting better while you're here. No distractions.”

They talked a bit after that, but in the end, Jack needed his rest – besides, his headache was getting worse. So, after receiving some type of medication, he reluctantly closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

~

But, to his disappointment, instead of falling into a deep, restive sleep his consciousness fell straight down the proverbial rabbit hole and slipped into a dark, empty world.

Jack found himself floating freely, blind and utterly cut off from everything. Suffice to say, he was not even remotely amused by his situation. When he looked down on his body, he was not bound by anything; no tubes, no bandages, no wounds, nor was he wearing a scrap of clothing. But Jack didn't feel cold at all, and somehow, didn't feel embarrassed about the exposure of his privates.

At first, he questioned his sanity, wondering out aloud whether this black space, his current condition and the overall tranquility that pervaded this world were all a result of him going totally mad. Or, he fell asleep and now was dreaming one weird dream. After all, he was trying to sleep so it was only natural to think this was the case.

However, he soon came to a conclusion that this wasn't what he thought it was. Why? Simple, really.

The black, featureless world was soon converted into a blood-red one, filled with the shining red crystal-like souls being the main source of all that crimson hue. It was literally red everywhere, like as if the whole world was dipped into the overflowing river of blood.

Jack gulped nervously. He was floating there, surrounded by these mysterious and horrifying things everywhere he could see. Understandably, he was deeply apprehensive of this new and unwelcome change.

But when he eyed the floating red soul crystal things, suddenly he recalled an important detail. Quickly, Jack searched around for the faces of people he knew and cared about among the souls, and soon enough, saw his classmates grouped together in one section among the numerous souls.

It was a bit of a way from where he was. Not knowing a method to move in this world, Jack thought about what he could do here – swim as if he was underwater or in a zero-gravity situation.

Several ideas came by in his mind, and when he thought about dragging those souls closer to where he was, things began to shift. Indeed, the sea of red seemed to shift like the parting waves. The group of red souls then flickered and seemingly, in a blink of an eye, teleported right before his stunned face.

“Oh, that's convenient,” Jack muttered, slightly taken aback but recovering quickly. “Okay, so if I think about wanting something to happen, then it'll probably happen inside this world....”

A glint of understanding flashed in his eyes. But that glint was shrouded just as quickly when those familiar faces got closer. Jack shuddered as he witnessed all of those faces, still shrieking in agony and still trapped within these abominable crystal things.

Thankfully, no sound came out of them, mercifully sparing him from enduring the pained screams of people he grew up to know well.

Jack slowly, hesitantly reached out and touched the nearest one. It was the bus driver's soul, about the size of a basketball. It was warm and hard to the touch – and was gently pushed away as his fingers made contact with the surface.

“What can I do with these souls? Why are they.... here? In me?”

Jack mulled this quandary that had no one could answer but the trapped souls themselves. And as if to satisfy his curiosity, the bus driver's soul crystal spun faster and faster, all the while ripples spread out from where Jack touched it.

And with a soft “Pah!!” the crystal dissolved into a fine, powdery mist.

It didn't stop there. Instead of dispersing away, the red mist then surrounded Jack and slowly rotated around him.

To say he was really surprised and scared at this new development would be the understatement of the year. Jack thought that he had done something bad to the soul, that he had somehow managed to destroy the damn thing and thereby killing off the soul itself with no future means of reviving it or sending it to The Heaven or some such.

If that were so, then he'd be feeling so unbelievably miserable of himself.

However, a certain feeling, a sense really, of familiarity of this situation gradually settled in him. It was hard to explain what was so familiar to him in the first place. It was kinda like, he knew this was supposed to happen. That it was normal.

It was not too dissimilar to how he understood how to order these souls around inside this space.

But as to why it was so – why he felt that way – Jack could not come up with anything plausible. The best he could think of was that, he already knew but had forgotten it, only now remembering the details, one at the time.

For the proof, he only needed to simply think about redirecting the flowing red mist, and the desired result immediately occurred. It changed the direction of its movement with not a sign of hesitation nor resistance. To make sure he was right, Jack tried it a couple more times until his understanding of how this world worked deepened.

But he wasn't really satisfied with this much. It felt like he was missing something vital, something important. He just wasn't sure of what exactly. It was right at the tip of his tongue, teasingly beyond the reach.

He floated there, surrounded by the red mist and the red soul crystals, pondering.

He pondered about the ways to leave this place, he pondered about what he had apparently forgotten, and he also pondered about the implications of these red souls inside of him.

“Could it be that... Am I a Super, too?”

No matter what, Jack could not shake this notion out of his mind. No, it was only getting stronger, this helpless and disgusted feeling. Unless he was going crazy – then, all of this was just nothing but him seeing things that weren't there.

But if he wasn't going mad, then...

“Then, I must be a Super. It has to be. What other explanations are there?”

Jack breathed in deeply, quite bitter at the prospect of being treated the same as one of those bastards that murdered his friends. Oh, he knew. His father, Bob Mercer may have avoided telling him, but Jack was not a dummy. He knew.

And he just could not bear the thought of it at all, the ultimate insult of being treated the same as the Supers.

As he trembled in agony and anger, Jack had one of those famed lightbulb moments.

“No, wait a minute here. If I am a Super, then, doesn't that mean.... I have the power, potentially, to take those two killers down?”

Jack felt as if a lightning had struck him. An epiphany so powerful, he felt his entire being shudder and shake like an earthquake.

The mere thought of being a Super powerful enough to exact the righteous retribution to the guilty ones shook him very hard, deep into his core. As a matter of fact, the crimson world began to vibrate, causing numerous large ripples to break out as if the whole world and everything in it were agitated, excited at the prospect of becoming.... a Super.

“But.... can I? Really?”

Jack hesitated. The cause? He was engulfed in confusion and fear, that was why.

He wasn't normally the type to hide in a dark room and not come out until the world was safe again. No, if there was one redeeming quality he had, then it'd be his inability to sit still and do nothing. He had to something.

So to gain a potential power that might, just might give him a way to dispense justice, then it'd be an enormous boon, no doubt. But at the same time, the fear of being rejected as a monster struck him silly.

Being rejected and feared by his own family, by everyone he knew, by the world – that thought was completely unbearable to Jack.

Right now, he had no choice in this matter. Even if he kept his transformation, his awakening a secret, how long would he be able to carry that baggage? He would, or someone else, would expose it and destroy his life. Of course he was fearful. Of course he was confused.

Clutching his fist in a fit of frustration, Jack angrily screamed out.

His voice echoed in the crimson world. The ripples of the world quietened down as the sound waves bounced around. The calm stillness was soon restored, with nary a hint of anything ever happening here.

Soon, even the echoes of his voice were gone. His throat hurt from the overuse, although technically speaking, he wasn't really using it just now. Still, it burned and itched, making him desire for a soothing balm of some kind.

As if to answer this call for relief, the red mist swirled and shot into his throat area directly. Jack stiffened, but he couldn't do a thing to stop it as the mist was moving too fast, and was quickly absorbed into him.

It was a slightly different sensation compared to when the red soul crystals entered him back on the highway. Back then, whether due to the blood loss or the brain blocking out the excruciating pain, he didn't feel a thing.

But now, here, Jack felt like something uncomfortably hot and heavy pressing down on his skin, then against the muscles in his neck – then, even down to the bones and the marrows and the like.

It was not to the level of being completely intolerable, but still, Jack found the experience very unpleasant.

The mist was completely absorbed into his neck, and just like that, hoarseness in his throat was all gone. He felt refreshed, for the lack of better description. At the same time, not a drop of that red mist made up of the teacher's soul remained. Jack couldn't even sense it anymore. It was gone for good.

“What the.... what the hell was that all about?!”

~

The next morning came, and there was a slight but noticeable change in Jack's condition.

Bob had to go to work. He could have gotten an absence of leave from his job as an analyst in a huge firm - but chose not to as the company was in the middle of a very important contract. In other words, Bob's input was an absolute necessity.

Dana had to go to school. Now that her brother had woken up, she had to continue with her own life. Putting it on a back burner was not an option, as Min-jung had put it.

And as for Min-jung herself, since she was a world-renowned geneticist working for a massive global pharmaceutical company, she was given a lot of leeways and she took full advantage of that by staying near her son's side, studying and checking up on his conditions.

And that's when the complications rose.

It wasn't to do with the prying eyes of the local and international press. No, the impressive security of the Fort meant that no so-called journalists chasing a primetime slot with a story would be able to sneak in. There was no worry in that regard.

Nor were they to do with the level of doctors and the equipment here – unlike most military-run hospitals, Fort McNamus was actually run by the Department of Defense. And they made sure every facet of this facility was as advanced as possible in order to treat the high-ranking VIPs and politicians quietly and discreetly.

Since she still knew people from here, having her son recuperate here was a good decision from her side, as there was, inevitably, some people trying to use this tragedy of the Highway R-35 Northbound to score valuable political points. Min-jung and Bob both agreed that their children would not be subjected to such opportunism if they could help it.

Also – there were daily protests going on out there. They were very anti-Super in nature, fuelled by the tragedy that took away countless lives. The whole affair had taken on very serious undertones, both political and social. Min-jung wasn't sure whether her son was equipped to handle all that.

If anything, Jack needed time to process his grief first before dealing with all that crazy stuff that would fly over his head. He was only a 17-year-old teen, after all.

No, the complications came from the fact that Jack's neck area was completely healed overnight. This bizarre phenomenon happened when the nurses were changing the bandages for a set of new one. Min-jung was present, of course, and bore witness to this near-miraculous recovery all in its glory.

She was shocked. There was a very little explanation that could match this unusual situation. If Jack's entire body was healed, then it'd be far easier to understand, but it was just his neck, nowhere else. Now that was.... that was an odd thing. Very odd.

Min-jung waited until the confused nurses were done with their jobs. She watched them leave, then only did she sit next to her son and carefully asked him.

“Jack, how are you feeling today?”

“I guess... it's okay, considering.” Jack replied, sounding a little weak.

“Feel any different? You know, besides the drugs in your system making you drowsy. Like, something has changed in your body. The way it feels to you.”

Jack frowned and hesitated for a brief second. He almost blurted out aloud the matters of the red soul crystals and the crimson world - but held back. His fears still lingered and he didn't want his own mother to look at him like as if he was a freak.

So he lied.

“No, not really. I don't feel different but yeah, I am drowsy, that's for sure.”

Min-jung narrowed her eyes slightly but didn't press any further. “If you feel weird, even if it's just a tiny bit, tell me, alright? Besides being your mother, I'm a pretty good doctor, I'll have you know. So you can trust my prognosis.”

“Yeah well, that's a given, mom.”

Jack chuckled, trying his best to hide the slight guilt in his heart from tainting his voice or his facial expression. He wasn't a good actor and he knew it.

But he was saved from a barrage of interrogation when Min-jung's phone vibrated. She was going to ignore it but then she saw the caller's numbers and ended up frowning a little. She didn't want to answer it but....

Sighing, she got up from the bed. “I gotta take this. I'll return later to check on you. Get plenty of rest, Jack.”

“I know, mom.”

With a gentle smile, she left the room to take the call.

As soon as she got to the corridor, she connected to the call and heard the unpleasant voice from the distant past she didn't want to be reminded of.

“Glad to hear your son is doing fine, doctor Mercer.”

“Thank you. Now, what is it you want? I told you not to contact me.”

“Don't be like that, doctor. We haven't talked in ages. Why don't we have a little chat – please stop by at my office later today. Around twelve thirty. See you then.”

Infuriatingly, the other party ended the call. Min-jung didn't even get to speak properly. She was angry, but at the same time, had to resign herself to the meeting now set in stone regardless of her own schedule.

She looked at the time displayed on the phone. If she were to make it for the meeting, then she had to get going right away. Before leaving, though, Min-jung took a long, worried gaze towards the direction of her son's room.

Meanwhile, Jack was breathing in deeply while slowly examining his neck with the untethered right arm. He wasn't a dummy – he had also noticed that something was different with his neck. And when he touched there, he was thoroughly shocked himself.

It took a while to calm down but eventually, he did. Only then, was he able to coolly assess why his neck was fine while the rest of his body looked like crap.

There was only one logical answer, though.

“It's the red soul mist....”

Jack imperceptibly murmured to no one in particular.

He had no doubt that the red soul “mist” his neck had absorbed was the cause for this miraculous recovery. Even though he had absorbed it in an illusory world within his mind, the effects were showing in the real world.

“Oh my god. I am a Super....”

Jack felt like massaging his throbbing head. His worst fears were confirmed for good now. He couldn't even go on a denial now that he was like this.

He tried very hard to think positively. There must be something good at the end of all this. Finally, he was able to convince himself that, if this Superpower being manifested in him was a particularly useful one, then he could bring the ones responsible to justice. So that was good.

He again breathed in deeply. Jack knew there was nothing he could do to change his fate now. To his knowledge, a human being had the figurative one in a million chance in manifesting a Superpower. Not all of that power was good or strong, but if he was lucky enough, then he just might be able to....

In order to be sure, Jack needed to experiment. He needed to find out more about this power of his, explore it in depth and figure out its limits and attributes if he were to fight.

He didn't know how the things he was doing - or planning to do - would affect all the trapped souls inside of him. He didn't even know whether those souls were.... alive or not, either.

All he knew at this point was, that these souls could potentially do something.

Another thing he was mindful of, was that he needed to find another way to access that crimson world. It was going to become a massive bother if he had to fall asleep every time just to “power up.”

Jack couldn't think beyond these, however. He became too drowsy to continue as the drugs coursed within his veins began to dull his senses.

So, he quickly drifted into a drug-induced sleep. To his relief, though, rather than ending up in some hazy dream that didn't help anyone, Jack's consciousness ended up in the crimson world once more.

“Alright, since I'm here, might as well start the experiments,” said Jack, as he tightly clenched his fists.

TSLives · Mar 17, 2017

If you are not satisfied, then why are you posting it?

If you don't find it satisfying, why would your readers?

That's a VERY bad thing for authors to do, rookie or professional.

A_Passing_Wanderer · May 23, 2017

Chapter 3

“You're going to be late for school, Jack!! Hurry!!”

Bob's booming voice echoed throughout the double story suburban house. Jack winced at the high decibel as he finished combing his hair in front of the bathroom mirror. He quickly checked his attire, making sure nothing was out of place. Nothing he could do about the bags under his eyes, though.

When he looked at his own reflection, Jack had to wonder if anything was different with him outwardly and whether other people could tell. The image in front of him was exactly the same as before and there were no visible signs of what he had to go through a month ago. He looked almost like Jack Mercer before the tragedy.

Indeed, it had been a month since that fateful day. So many things happened, yet so little things occurred, outwardly at least.

Jack's rate of recovery astounded the doctors – and his own family – with its unprecedented speed. After all, it only took just over a week to completely heal up.

The truth was, though – Jack used up over two-thirds of the red soul stored inside of him. He learned a few things during his time experimenting with the spirits of the dead. But in all honesty, Jack felt like he was still wading in the dark, not knowing where he was headed to. That was not a pleasant feeling, really.

And now, he was all fine physically and was ready to start living a normal life. Relatively speaking, obviously. This day was about him returning to the school. The beginning of the rest of his life, as how it was used to be.

There was a hint of nervousness on his face. Jack wasn't sure why but he did his best to erase it. He lightly slapped his cheeks, trying to loosen himself a bit. It didn't sting as much. Taking a deep breath, Jack left the room and headed for the kitchen downstairs for a quick breakfast.

In the dining room table, there were a couple of boxes of cereal, a bottle of milk and bowls – one for each Mercer family members. On the side, a wall mounted flatscreen TV, which was switched on but had its sound muted.

His mother, Min-jung was putting her dishes into the washer, kneeling down. As for his father, Bob was checking out his tablet, his eyebrows twitching unhappily. Although, he had no trouble shoving the strip of bacon to the correct destination – his mouth.

His sister Dana was about to finish her breakfast when Jack settled down on his seat. Her mouth was full as she glanced up at him, but her eyes were laughing slightly. Jack smiled back at her.

Bob hurriedly handed a plate over to his son. “Hey, take this. Honey, looks like I gotta run. Something really big and messy just went down in the markets. Can you take the kids to school today? Sorry about this.”

“Sure, it's fine.”

Min-jung nodded as she stood up.

Jack smiled faintly at the scene of normalcy on display here. He could tell his parents were trying hard to make everything appear as normal as possible. He appreciated their efforts.

So as to not disappoint them, he turned his attention to the strips of bacon that were giving off this wonderful, appetizing aroma. He sure felt hungry at the sight of the sizzling, unhealthy and totally delicious breakfast delicacy. It had this magical ability to temporarily help him to forget the jitters while enjoying the meal.

While chewing, Jack briefly turned his attention towards the TV and saw the recorded clip of the current POTUS doing a press conference. It was a news bulletin but at that moment, it was carrying a segment on the tragedy of the highway. Both Bob and Min-jung wanted to change the channel, but Jack shook his head, asking them to turn up the volume so he could hear the words better.

“I, David J. Trudale, promise you folks, this: I will sit down with the relevant lawmakers and we will work this out. We will look at the laws governing this Superheroes and villains and all that stuff, and find a way to deal with this unruly, and quite frankly, terrible, horrible behavior of these people. I mean, seriously folks. Enough is enough, right? How many lives are these Supers intending on ruining like this?

Sure, many have done lots of good work in the past, but we still have these dangerous elements here and there, and it's those guys we need to be wary of, am I right? We need to build a better deterrent, a wall of some kind, to stop these bad eggs from taking away the precious lives of our families, our loved ones.

As your president, believe you me, it's going to happen. I guarantee it.”

The clip ended and showed the studio where the news anchor was sitting in the middle of the table with two guests flanking him on either side.

To his left, a man in his late fifties, wearing a stiff suit, a red bow tie, and a thick, horn-rimmed glasses. He seemed to be one of those tightly-wounded types, with a chip on his shoulders. But at the same time, there was a certain air of superiority oozing from his expressions.

To his right, a well-built man wearing a black tuxedo and a flamboyant face mask that a Mexican luchador might wear to a ring. His bulging muscles seemed comically out of place in that supposedly-suave set of duds.

The stiff man was a well known Anti-Super Movement leader, one Professor Anthony Masterson. As for which field he was a professor in, Jack didn't know, nor did he care, really.

And the luchador mask-man was a retired Superhero, Vanguard. Well known in the world as the spokesperson for the Guild of Heroes, the de facto bureau for all things Supers-related, when he was an active hero Vanguard performed many heroic deeds, becoming something of a cultural icon.

The anchor started off by mentioning that the clip of the president was from a month ago when the tragedy of the R-35 had occurred. Yet, besides some tough rhetoric spewed by the politicians, nothing was done until now.

Professor Masterson's turn to spew some of his own rhetoric came right after that lead-in.

“Well, it's not that surprising, really. Over the decades the politicians and lawmakers have given too much leeway to these dangerous, dangerous people, just because they happen to possess immense power that rivals an army. But all the while forgetting that it's this immense power that makes them dangerous and thus needs a stricter monitoring and governance. The case in point was the tragedy of the R-35 Northbound. Two Supers, who were left unchecked and not properly monitored, went on a rampage and many people, innocent bystanders, ended up paying the ultimate price for their ego-driven power trip. And not even the Guild of Heroes have been able to answer for this tragedy – which is a tragedy all on its own.”

There was a hint of bitterness hidden in Masterson's voice. Most normal people would fail to discern that, but for Jack, he thought he could faintly feel it.

He didn't find it too odd, though – ever since he used up the countless red souls to heal himself, he made sure that there was.... a certain improvement to his body.

Vanguard raised his hand and raised his counterpoint. He sure sounded like how he looked, minus the thick Latin accent one might have expected from a luchador.

“Hold on there, Professor. You make it sound like all Supers are bad in nature. That is patently untrue, and no matter how many times you say it in hopes of perpetuating a falsehood, it will not work, sir. Good people of the country know all the important work the Superhero community does and appreciates it. The work performed by these good men and women can only be done because there are explicit understandings of freedom to act within the discretions of the heroes. Take that away and you risk undoing all the good that would have been achieved in the future.”

Jack narrowed his eyes, staring at Vanguard. When he was in the hospital recovering, the Guild of Heroes sent a bunch of representatives to check up on his status and to make a formal “apology.”

However, Jack knew better – those jackasses came for a photo-op, nothing more.

Among the representatives, Vanguard was there. Jack had to admit that out of all the jackasses that came to see him that day, it was only Vanguard who sounded truly sincere regarding how sorry he was.

That left somewhat of a favorable impression of the masked man. But it was just that, an impression. Jack still didn't trust any of these Superheroes and whatnots. The case in point was the fact that both Master Evil and Falcon, the two Supers responsible were still in the wind with nary a sign of their imminent arrests or prosecution. That's all Jack needed to confirm his suspicions.

That the Guild needed Supervillains like Master Evil in order to justify their own existence. That they needed people like Falcon to act outside the law to carry out a certain type of work that supposedly law-abiding heroes could not do.

Just thinking about these matters pissed Jack off greatly. It became a little harder to hide his agitation.

Bob finally switched the TV off and gave the signal with his eye to Min-jung. She nodded and placed her hand on Jack's shoulder. “Are you finished? Then let's get going. It's your first day back, and I don't want you to be late.”

~

As Min-jung drove, she began conversing with her children. She asked about one of Dana's classmate who was coming over for a sleepover later in the week and the two spoke some girly stuff that flew way over Jack's scope of understanding.

And when that was done, Min-jung started talking to her son.

“So, Jack. You're 17 now. Maybe it's time you learn how to drive yourself?”

Jack was gazing outside the window, gripping the armrest tightly. One could see that he was doing his best to stop the tremor from taking over his body. But his voice still trembled a little. “That sounds good, mom. But doesn't that mean I will need to get a car and go for a licence test? I don't think I can do that right now.”

“Mm. Yes, you'll need to buy a car for that.... Well, you should start looking for a part time job, then.”

Jack slowly murmured. “Well, I'll think about it. No rush, right?”

Jack had to think about it. Learning to drive was always high up on his list of things to do but now – he didn't want to be anywhere near a car, or get on a highway for that matter. Just trying to enter Min-jung's SUV took a lot out of him mentally.

He still had the scars and it was still too early to get over that. Asking him to learn how to drive was premature in that regard. But how long could he avoid it? With things Jack had planned in his mind, he'd have to travel quite a distance. No matter what, he had to get over his fear.

One step at the time, son. One at a time.

Bob Mercer told his son this when they came back from the hospital. And he was right; Jack couldn't rush things.

He hadn't even found a way to fall asleep without the aid of the medication yet. Without it, he'd suffer such a strong bout of insomnia that by the sunrise he felt like going absolutely mad with exhaustion from trying to sleep. Because of this, he had been popping in pills every single day.

Even that was losing its effectiveness, though, after a month of constant abuse.

Without sleep, Jack could not gain access to that dream world where he could manipulate the stored red souls in his body. So far, he hadn't found a way to control them when not in slumber. Nothing seemed to work.

And to add to his consternation, his stock of souls had depleted greatly. Jack had a pretty good idea how to procure more souls but the mere thoughts of it alone made him feel like a monster.

He knew that someone had to die near him. Only then, would he be able to absorb those red mist-like things.

When he was in the hospital recovering, there was a time when he went on a stroll to see if Nick was alright. Also, to see if his theory was correct too. Nick was still in a coma, covered in head to toe with bandages. Jack spoke to Nick's parents who were there. They seemed to have aged ten years from all the worrying.

After saying goodbyes, Jack then continued to roam the corridors. Since he was in a hospital, he figured that there would be patients on the death's door here. As morbid as that sounded, he had to see if the only way to gain red souls was through someone dying.

Lo and behold, it was just as he suspected.

There was a soldier who was suffering from a gunshot wound. The surgery to save his life went well but he hadn't recovered from the medically induced coma.

When Jack glanced into the soldier's room, he saw a faint trace of red mist slowly rising from his prone body. The man was slowly succumbing to his injuries despite all the work that was done to save him.

There was another, a former colonel or some such. He was dying of cancer. Again, a slim, flickering mist of red was rising from his body when Jack peered into his room.

No one else seemed to be able to see it. Absolutely no one could see these red mists. Not even the doctors, not the nurses, not the visiting families, not even the ones dying themselves.

That's when Jack knew. That he was the only person, so far anyway, who could see these red souls. And that someone had to die if he were to acquire more of it.

No matter how he cut it, what he had was the kind of horrible superpower Jack did not want.

Not knowing what her son was thinking at the moment, Min-jung frowned and asked as she pulled out of the lane, turning into the school district.

“Jack. Remember what I said, back in the hospital? If there's something bothering you, please talk to me. Instead of keeping it inside, it's better to talk to someone about it.”

Jack looked at his mother. She had a worried frown on her face. And that made Jack feel even worse. Of course he wanted to talk to her, tell her everything. But how could he burden her with this... secret, of her son being a goddamn Super?

There was a layer of suspicion here already. His recovery was way too fast. Jack had made a big mistake with that. But since the doctors, including his own mother, couldn't find anything wrong with him, the suspicion remained just that, a suspicion.

The rate of a Super being born in the human populace was literally one in half a million. In the entire world, active number of Supers did not exceed a couple thousands at any given time. But since they had been around as far as the dawn of the time, regular people accepted them as a part of their daily lives.

Hell, most of these Supers didn't even live a life as a hero or a villain, simply choosing to live like the rest of humanity.

Still, Jack didn't feel right telling her that her son was a Super. There was a lingering fear of rejection that was hanging around his mouth, leaving behind a bitter taste. So he chose not to tell her. Nor to anyone, really. Especially if he was planning to get stronger and go after Master Evil and Falcon himself. And potentially, kill them.

As crazy as that sounded, Jack was determined to succeed.

Because, the red souls didn't only have the ability to heal his wounds, both internal and external. No, they had one more useful function that he found by experimenting repeatedly.

“Well, we've arrived,” said Min-jung.

Jack looked out of the window and took in the sights of his school. He saw other kids hurriedly leaving their cars and entering the building, busy chatting away and greeting one another.

“Hey, that's my friends. I'll go first. Talk to you later.”

Dana left the car first and ran after the group of her friends in the distance. That left Jack alone with his mother for a brief time.

“Jack, have a good day, okay? And if you feel unwell, or there's something that does not feel right about your body, just give me a call, alright?”

Min-jung spoke affectionately.

Jack breathed in deeply and nodded. “I will. Later, mom.”

As he exited the car, he felt like everyone stopped what they were doing and now were looking at him. Were they pointing at him? He felt naked and vulnerable. Gritting his teeth, he walked forward, trying to ignore the stares.

The one extra useful function of the red souls was that they could be used to enhance his body physically. More specifically, each of his senses, muscles, internal organs, whatever, could be strengthened. As long as he could imagine it, Jack was able to infuse a body part with red souls and slowly increase their.... abilities.

And currently, one of them was working overtime, which was to his detriment. It was his sense of hearing.

Jack could hear the whispers of other kids as he walked by. They were whispering stuff like, “How come is he the only one who survived?”

Or: “He looks completely fine. How the hell? Was he even on the same bus?”

Some even said, “I bet you he used someone as a shield to protect himself. That's why he's okay and no one else lived.”

Jack had half a mind to bust the heads of all the idiots here but didn't. He had to ignore them and move on. Getting angry at these fools would only waste his energy. No, he was already angry at someone else.

He didn't notice that there was one more pair of eyes staring at his departing figure, her brows deeply knitted as if in a deep contemplation.

~

The school was torture.

Since no one from his previous class survived the trip other than Nick, he had to “transfer” to another class. There, kids were, outwardly at least, showing concern for his well-being. And also showed more concern for what he had to go through. Teachers treated Jack with kiddie gloves - as if he was a glassware that could break apart with the slightest touch. Being politically correct and all that – and Jack was getting tired of it, fast.

But Jack thought that he still could feel the pointing fingers whenever his back was turned. Their hot, curious and sometimes accusatory stares burned into his skin. It was not a good feeling. Worse still, Sue came to see him during one of the breaks.

She was all in tears. She was very much torn up about Nick's condition. She said she was glad that Jack was okay, that she was thankful for him getting Nick off the bus in time. That action had saved Nick's life, although he was in a vegetative state right now, unresponsive and fighting for every breath.

Sue's crying face made sure the rest of his day was miserable. Jack just couldn't get past her tearful face. The faces of the parents of dead classmates, the faces of Nick's parents, Sue's face....

And the faces of souls, trapped inside of him. The ones where he was ruthlessly absorbing for the sake of revenge. All those faces haunted him throughout the day. Thus, it was a pure torture.

After school ended, his new classmates dispersed for their club activities. As for Jack, he belonged to the track and field but was excused due to his current circumstances.

So, he sat on the bleachers and forlornly watched everyone else do their stuff. No one approached him, nor sat anywhere near him.

Other kids were thinking that he was having a hard time adjusting. So they thought that the most prudent thing to do currently was to give him some space. That was fine and all that.

In reality, though, his mind was revolving quickly around, hoping that the time might pass by faster this way. It was intolerable, sitting there and having people staring at him.

The noises of the kids slowly faded into the background as Jack gloomily thought about what he needed to do. The need to get stronger was growing inside of him but he had no quick and dirty way to achieve the desired growth. He thought about hanging around morgues the whole day, but after a bit of thought, gave up on that idea.

When he went to the cemetery for the funerals of his classmates, he couldn't spot a single red soul there. Not a single one. Jack thought that if the soul wasn't absorbed right away then it would simply dissipate into the thin air – or head straight to the gates of judgment or something.

So, that left him with what, exactly? Could he lurk around in a local hospital the whole day without being accused of some unsavory conduct, waiting around for someone to croak? That was not a time efficient way. Jack needed another method. He just couldn't come up with one.

As he was deep in thought, Jack didn't notice a presence coming to stand behind him.

“Hey, got a sec?”

Jack stiffened when he heard the voice coming from behind him. He quickly turned around to see a girl.

She was around Dana's height, dirty brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and of a slim build. She also wore a pair of spectacles that were pretty..... thick. Her dress code was a standard fair too, nothing fancy – perfectly anonymous. Her face was pleasant but again, a plain and anonymous, as if that was the way she wanted to remain.

Jack didn't know this girl. Try as he might, he couldn't even recall whether such a girl actually attended the same school as him.

“Uh, can I help you with something? Do I know you?” Jack reflexively asked.

“No. But I want to talk to you.” She said sharply.

Jack thought there was some kind of glint in her eyes which was sort of unnerving. Thinking that this might lead to trouble, Jack declined.

“Sorry, but can you leave me alone? I don't feel like talking to anyone at the moment.”

“That's too bad, because what I wanted to say, it's urgent.”

The girl shrugged her shoulders. Then she leaned in closer and whispered. “I know your secret, you see. That you're a Super now.”

Jack sucked in a cold breath. Sweating heavily, he studied the girl's face intently and found the trace of that strange glint burning even stronger than before in her eyes.

“Dunno what you're talking about,” Jack curtly replied.

To his reply, she teasingly chuckled. “It's okay. I'm a Super, too.”

I've been trying to figure out just why I'm not happy with the 2nd chapter but man.... Currently, I'm sitting on the fourth draft of that particular chapter, but it does not quite.... gel yet. Hmm.

TSLives said: ↑

If you are not satisfied, then why are you posting it?

If you don't find it satisfying, why would your readers?

That's a VERY bad thing for authors to do, rookie or professional.
Click to expand...

My bad for not replying sooner. I meant to, but I kept on forgetting it. Yeah, so. I agree with what you're saying. I should have worded my OG post better. Which is ironic, considering...

What I'm trying to do here is slightly different from simply posting a finished chapter. It's like, I'm leaving behind the progress I've made with each chapter so if a reader is interested, he or she could check it out. Kinda like a cloud storage, except that everyone has an access to it.
Or, that was the plan anyway.

As I've stated in the OG post, the chapters initially posted here will be very early drafts that lack a lot of polish. Some even may have plot holes as big as Kimberley's Big Hole, or has a glaring continuity error.

Edit (2017/05/23)

Chapter 3

“You're going to be late for school, Jack!! Hurry!!”

Bob's booming voice echoed throughout the typical double story suburban house. Jack winced slightly at the high decibel while putting the final touches on his appearance, as reflected in the body-length mirror next to the bathroom entrance in his room. He quickly checked his attire, making sure nothing was out of place. There was naught he could do about the bags under his eyes, though.

“I'm coming!!”

Jack called out and took a deep breath. He looked at that tired face, hoping that other people wouldn't be able to tell something was different about him, that he didn't go through a baptism of fire and brimstone that had altered him beneath the usual surface. To him at least, the reflection of himself appeared exactly the same as before the incident from the month ago. No visible signs of what he had to live through, no visible trauma of everything he lost that day – the face staring back was still the “Jack Mercer” of before.

He didn't mean to, but his thoughts wandered back to the past month and a bit since that fateful day. Jack wouldn't say it was all hazy, and for sure, things happened. Many of them were painful, some of them made him furious, some of them he'd rather forget. In other words, so many things had happened; but he tried to appear nothing had changed.

Only a small part of that month was spent in the hospital. By logic, he should have been bed-ridden for much longer period than a mere month. His injuries were far too severe for that. So, it was only natural that Jack's unnaturally fast rate of recovery ended up shocking the doctors – and his own family – when it took less than a week to completely heal up. The rest of the month was then spent readjusting to the life of a survivor, dodging the attention of the incessant media and the well-meaning but ultimately nosy/unhelpful neighbors.

In order to heal his body that quickly, Jack ended up depleting his red soul reserve by two-thirds, a fact that he had chosen not to share with anyone. The facts that he was a Super, and that inside of him there was this horrifying crimson world packed full of dead people's souls, those would remain with him, probably to his dying day.

In hindsight, maybe using up so much of those red souls at one go wasn't such a good idea, a bad decision made in haste and hot temper. But the upside to his youthful exuberance was that one or two questions about the spirits of the dead inside of him were answered, even if he still felt like he was only just beginning to scratch the surface. That sure felt frustrating, since he couldn't ask anyone for guidance and had to wade in the dark all by himself.

And to make the matters worse, there were times when the faces of his confused and worried family nearly pushed his resolve to keep everything to himself to the absolute brink. Somehow, he was able to endure it. Jack brushed away those worried queries of his mother and father and sister with a curt “I'm fine,” all the while feeling like crap inside.

But they could tell he was different. They could only speculate since he told them nothing. Little did they suspect that he was enhancing his physical self with the red souls and that he was occasionally transported to an ancient land while he slept.

No, it wasn't him actually traveling to this land but more like, him reliving the memories of another person, a man, the protagonist and the owner of these said memories.

In these dreams, the skies were truly blue, the land was fantastical and mythical, and the legends were made by the heroes and heroines. Jack encountered things that would rake in big bucks were they put to film and shown in the cinemas over the Summer vacation period. They were that great and over the top.

Compared to those extravagant adventures, his current struggles felt so small and insignificant in scale.

Jack felt stuffy and ended up adjusting the shirt collar for the tenth time. Didn't really help, but it messed up the alignment of his shirt so he had to readjust again. He did this a few times, never quite finding the sweet spot.

He wanted to be on his best behavior, his best appearance, his best... everything, really, for this day. He was all fine physically, and was ready to start living a normal life. This day was all about him returning to school and to his life as a regular teen. A beginning of the rest of his life, back to how it was like before.

Even though his best friend was still in the hospital, buried deep in a coma with no signs of coming out.

Jack's forehead developed a deep crease as the comatose face of Nick rose up in his mind, barely suppressing the gnawing guilt in his heart. It just seemed wrong to even try living like a normal person when Nick was sleeping in the hospital, nobody knowing when he'd wake up.

Jack nearly gave up and tore off his clothes right then, before regaining his senses. Nick's parents told him to move on with his life, after all. That Nick would get better in time and it didn't do either of them any good if Jack brooded over it endlessly, blaming himself for what was out of his hands.

Jack sighed again and quickly fixed the collar. After straightening his posture, he noticed that the hint of nervousness in the reflection of his face didn't go way. Jack tried to erase it and plastered a fake smile. He then lightly slapped his cheeks, trying to loosen himself a bit. It didn't sting as much as it should but that little bit helped. He felt more relaxed, prepared.

Taking a deep breath, Jack left the room and headed downstairs for his share of breakfast.

In the spacious kitchen, the whole Mercer clan was present, in various state of having their meals. Because of him diddling around with his appearance, Jack was the last to arrive. On the dining table, there were a couple of boxes of branded cereal, a bottle of low-fat milk and a set of porcelain bowls plus the cutlery – one for each family members. To the side, a wall-mounted flatscreen TV, which was switched on but had its sound muted.

His mother, Min-jung, had already finished with her meal and was in the process of placing the plates in the dishwasher. As for his father, Bob, he was checking out the news on his fancy tablet, his eyebrows twitching unhappily. Although, he had no trouble shoving the strip of bacon to the correct destination – his mouth. Also, when he noticed his tardy son, Bob voiced his disagreements slightly before returning to the tablet.

His younger sister, Dana, was in the middle of her breakfast when Jack settled down on his seat next to her. The girl's mouth was half-full as she glanced up at him, her eyes laughing slightly. Jack smiled back at her and lightly patted her head. “Hey, chew properly, alright?”

“Oh my Gawd, really? Did you forget how old I am from that knock on your head?”

Dana grumbled as she pushed his hand away. Jack laughed and tried to ruffle her hair further. She made a face and began to shove Jack away.

“Hey, behave, you two,” said Bob. He then groaned and put down the tablet, hurriedly sliding a plate over to his son. “Hey, take this. Babe, looks like I gotta run. Something really big and messy just went down in the markets. Can you ferry the kids back and forth today? Sorry about this.”

“Sure, it's fine.”

Min-jung nodded as she closed the dishwasher's door. She was kitted out in a smart business suit befitting of her profession, as that of a world-renowned scientist employed in a high-paying job.

Jack smiled faintly at the scene of normalcy on display by his family here. He could tell his parents were trying hard to make everything appear as normal as possible. He appreciated their efforts and tried to go with the flow, not wanting to put a damper on their hard work.

He looked at his plate; two strips of bacon, toasts, fried eggs with sunny side up, a blob of hash brown. Thinly sliced tomatoes and lettuce rounded off the contents. After asking for the dressing, Jack dug in, aiming to finish them as quickly as possible. He knew he was going to be late if he didn't.

Jack picked the bacon first and chewed the juicy, smoky strip, marveling at how delicious it was, no matter how often he ate it. Its ability to temporarily help him forget about the jitters while enjoying the meal was still unparalleled in this world.

While chewing, Jack briefly turned his attention towards the TV and saw the recorded clip of the current POTUS doing a press conference. It was a current affairs talk show and at the moment, it was carrying a segment on the tragedy of the highway.

Min-jung noticed this belatedly and silently motioned with her eyes at Bob to change the channel, but Jack intervened first, instead asking his father to turn up the volume in order to hear what was being said.

“I, David J. Trudale, promise you folks, this: I will definitely sit down with the relevant lawmakers and we are gonna work this out. We'll look at the laws governing this Superheroes and villains and all that stuff, and find a way to deal with this unruly, and quite frankly, terrible, horrible behavior of these people. I mean, seriously folks. Enough is enough, right? How many lives are these Supers intending on ruining like this?

“Sure, some of them have done good things in the past, but we still have these dangerous elements hidden in our neighborhood and it's those guys we need to be wary of, am I right? We need to build a better deterrent, a wall of some kind, to stop these bad eggs from harming the lives of our families, our loved ones.

“As your president, believe you me, it's going to happen. I guarantee it.”

The clip ended there, showing the inside of a studio where a male presenter was sitting in the middle while two guests flanked him on either side.

To his left, a man in his late fifties, wearing a stiff suit that was somewhat out of style, a red bow tie, carefully trimmed and combed dark brown hair, and a pair of thick horn-rimmed glasses perched low on the bridge of his nose. He seemed to be one of those tightly-wounded types, with a massive chip on his shoulders. But at the same time, there was a certain unrestrained air of condescension oozing out from his expressions, as if he was saying “I'm right always and you're wrong all the time.”

To his right, a well-built man wearing a black tuxedo and a flamboyant face mask that a Mexican luchador might wear to a ring. His bulging muscles seemed comically out of place in that supposedly-suave set of duds.

The stiff man was the de facto leader and the mouthpiece of the Anti-Super Movement leader, one Professor Anthony Masterson. As for which field he was a professor in, Jack didn't know, nor did he care, really.

And the luchador mask-man was a retired Superhero, Vanguard. Well known in the world as the spokesperson for the Guild of Heroes, the bureau for all things Supers-related. When he was an active Superhero, Vanguard performed many heroic deeds and in the process became something of a cultural icon.

The anchor started off by mentioning that the clip of the POTUS was from a month ago when the tragedy of the R-35 Northbound had occurred. Yet, besides some tough rhetoric spewed by the politicians, nothing was done until now.

Professor Masterson's turn to spew some of his own rhetoric came right after that lead-in.

“Well, it's not that surprising, really. Over the decades the politicians and lawmakers have given too much leeway to these dangerous, dangerous people, just because they happen to possess immense power that rivals an army. But all the while forgetting that it's this immense power that makes them dangerous and thus needs a stricter monitoring and governance. The case in point was the tragedy of the R-35 Northbound. Two Supers, who were left unchecked and not properly monitored, went on a rampage and many people, innocent bystanders, ended up paying the ultimate price for their ego-driven power trip. And not even the Guild of Heroes have been able to answer for this tragedy – which is a tragedy all on its own.

“All I have been saying until now, is to tag and monitor these individuals. We would have been able to prevent this tragedy, and many others like it, if we knew what these dangerous people's identities are beforehand. The safety of the citizens versus the rights to privacy of a handful of dangerous individuals – I believe it's not a difficult decision to make, is it not?”

There was a hint of bitterness hidden in Masterson's voice. Most normal people would fail to discern that, but for Jack, he heard it just fine, thanks to him enhancing his hearing. Not by much, but still enough.

Vanguard raised his hand and raised his counterpoint. He sure sounded like how he looked, like a certain muscle-bound action movie star, minus the thick Latin accent one might have expected from a luchador.

“Hold on there, Professor. You make it sound like all Supers are bad in nature. That is patently untrue, and no matter how many times you say it in the vain hopes of perpetuating a falsehood, it will not work, sir.

“Good people of this country, and indeed the world, know all the important work the Superhero community does and deeply appreciate it. The work performed by these good men and women as Superheroes can only be done because there are explicit understanding of freedom to act within the discretions of the heroes. Take that away and you risk undoing all the good that would have been achieved in the future.”

Jack narrowed his eyes and stared at Vanguard, remembering the time when the Guild of Heroes sent a bunch of representatives to check up on his status and to make a formal “apology” at the hospital. However, Jack knew better – those jackasses came for a photo-op, nothing more.

Among the representatives, Vanguard was also there. Jack had to admit that out of all the jackasses that came to see him that day, it was only Vanguard who sounded truly sincere regarding how sorry he was.

That encounter left somewhat of a favorable impression of the masked man. But it was just that, an impression. Jack still didn't trust any of these Superheroes and whatnots. The case in point was the fact that both Master Evil and Falcon, the two Supers responsible, were still in the wind with nary a sign of their imminent arrests or prosecution.

That's all Jack needed to confirm his suspicions – that no one was trying to capture the two culprits responsible for his friends' death. That the Guild of Heroes needed Supervillains like Master Evil in order to justify their own existence; that they needed people like Falcon to act outside the law to carry out a certain type of work that supposedly law-abiding heroes could not.

It was all a lip service, nothing more. Small guys always ended up suffering the consequences of the big guys rampaging around – the way this unfair world worked since the beginning of the written history.

Just thinking about these matters pissed Jack off greatly. It became a little harder to hide his agitation, veins popping up in his temples slightly, his eyes becoming sharper and venomous.

Bob finally switched the TV off and gave the signal with his eye to Min-jung. She nodded and placed her hand on Jack's shoulder. “Are you finished? Then let's get going. It's your first day back, and I don't want you to be late.”

Jack nodded in consent, although he wasn't really looking forward to what was coming next: the ride to school.

~

While driving, the mood was rather awkward inside Min-jung's SUV. That was entirely Jack's fault.

Even the valiant attempt at trying to lighten the atmosphere by the mother and the daughter duo by talking about one of Dana's classmate who was coming over for a sleepover later in the week did not work. Not even stuff about "girl talk" that would normally fly over Jack's scope of understanding failed to brighten the funeral-like aura.

That was because Jack's face was covered in a thin sheet of sweat. He was pale and breathing roughly, as he gripped the armrest hard to the point that the plastic was giving out squeaking noises.

He became like this, ever since he got discharged from the hospital. He couldn't stop shaking from irrational fear whenever he had to ride in a car. Didn't matter what car it was, the reaction was the same. He tried so many different things to overcome it but....

Still, here he was, doing his best to ride through this.... phobia, trying to fight it. As he mused before, this was nothing, compared to the man and the adventures he went through in the dream world.

“So, Jack. You're 17 now. Maybe it's time you learn how to drive yourself?”

Min-jung tried to help out by engaging Jack in conversations.

Even though his voice trembled, Jack did his best to reply.

“Yeah, I should. But don't we need another car for that? What about the licence test? I.... I am not sure if I can do that right now.”

“Mm. Yes, you'll need to buy a car for that.... Well, you should start looking for a part time job, then.”

Jack slowly murmured. “Well, I'll think about it. No rush, right?”

Jack had to think about it. Learning how to drive was always high up on his list of things to do, no doubt. As soon as he got over this stupid phobia of being in a moving car, then the first thing he would do is to go out and find a part-time work. Maybe he'd flip burgers for a few month, save up and buy himself a beater. Before that, he'd get the licence too.

In all honesty, though, he had to overcome this crippling fear. Because he had things to do. His thirst for vengeance cried for satisfaction, and he had no intention of letting that call go unanswered. Didn't matter how far this dream was, he was determined to make it happen. After all, he was a Super now. He had the potential.

“Yes, no rush. Please, don't force yourself, Jack. There is time. Remember, one step at a time.”

Min-jung couldn't hide her worries about her son as she tried to sound reassuring. She used her husband's oft-repeated line, hoping she'd get through to Jack. She was right, of course. Jack could not rush things. Even he had to admit that, albeit unwillingly.

Jack's first problem was his ability to sleep – or the lack thereof. He currently needed medication for that. Without it, a super strong bout of insomnia would kick him in the head, making him dead tired just trying to close his eyes and sleep. Because of this, he had been popping in pills every single day. Even that was losing its effectiveness, though, after a month of constant abuse.

Without sleep, Jack couldn't gain access to that dream world in order to manipulate the stored red souls in his body. So far, he hadn't found a way to control them when not in slumber. Nothing seemed to work. He wasn't sure whether such a thing was even possible at all.

And to add to his consternation, his stock of souls had depleted greatly. Jack had a pretty good idea how to procure more souls but the mere thoughts of it alone made him feel like a monster.

He knew that someone had to die near him. Only then, would he be able to absorb those red mist-like things escaping the body of the dying person.

Jack confirmed this fact while he was in the hospital, still “recovering”. There was a time when he went on a stroll to see if Nick was alright. He was still in a coma, covered in head to toe with bandages. Jack spoke to Nick's parents who were there at the time. They seemed to have aged ten years from all the worrying.

After saying goodbyes, Jack then continued to roam the corridors. Since he was in a hospital, he figured that there would be patients on the death's door here. As morbid as that sounded, he had to see if the only way to gain red souls was through someone dying.

Lo and behold, it was just as he suspected.

There was a soldier who was suffering from a gunshot wound. The surgery to save his life went well but he hadn't recovered from the medically induced coma. When Jack glanced into the soldier's room, he saw a faint trace of red mist slowly rising from his still body. The man was slowly succumbing to his injuries despite all the work that was done to save him. The soldier's wife sat on a chair next to his bed, reading a book out aloud for her husband, hoping she could get through to him somehow.

There was another, a former colonel or some such. He was dying of cancer. Again, a slim, flickering mist of red was rising from his body when Jack peered into his room.

No one else around could see the red mist, that much Jack was sure of – absolutely no one, not the doctors, not the nurses, not the visiting families, not even the ones dying themselves.

That's when Jack knew. That he was the only person, so far anyway, who could see these red souls. And that someone had to die if he were to acquire more of it. No matter how he cut it, what he had was the kind of horrible superpower nobody would want to be saddled with. No, calling it a curse was far more appropriate.

Not knowing what her son was thinking at the moment, Min-jung frowned and asked as she pulled out of the lane, turning into the school district.

“Jack. Remember what I said, back in the hospital? If there's something bothering you, please talk to me. Instead of keeping it inside, it's better to talk to someone about it.”

Jack looked at his mother. She had a worried frown on her face. And that made Jack feel even worse. Of course he wanted to talk to her, tell her everything. But how could he burden her with this... secret, of her son being a goddamn cursed Super?

There was a layer of suspicion here already. His recovery was way too fast. Jack had made a big mistake with that. But since the doctors, including his own mother, couldn't find anything wrong with him, the suspicion remained just that, a suspicion.

The rate of a Super being born in the human populace was one in half a million. In the entire world, active number of Supers did not exceed a couple thousands at any given time. But since they had been around as far as the dawn of the time, regular people accepted them as a part of their daily lives.

Hell, most of these Supers didn't even live a life as a hero or a villain, simply choosing to live like the rest of humanity, normal and hidden from the scrutiny of the world.

Whatever the case may be, Jack didn't feel right telling her that her son was a Super, a cursed one at that. There was a lingering fear of rejection that was hanging around his mouth like a bitter aftertaste. So he chose not to tell her. Nor to anyone, really – especially if he was planning to get stronger and go after Master Evil and Falcon himself. And potentially, kill them.

As crazy as that sounded, Jack was determined to succeed.

“Well, we've arrived,” said Min-jung.

Jack looked out of the window and took in the sights of his school. He saw other kids hurriedly leaving their cars and entering the three-story building, busy chatting away and greeting one another.

“Hey, that's my friends. I'll go first. Talk to you later.”

Dana left the car first and ran after the group of her friends in the distance. That left Jack alone with his mother for a brief time.

“Jack, have a good day, okay? And if you feel unwell, or there's something that does not feel right about your body, just give me a call, alright?”

Min-jung spoke affectionately.

Jack breathed in deeply and nodded. “I will. Later, mom.”

As he exited the car, he felt like everyone stopped what they were doing and now were looking at him. Were they pointing at him in a hushed whisper? He suddenly felt naked and vulnerable, and boy, was it unpleasant or what. Gritting his teeth, he resolutely walked forward, trying to ignore the stares.

But one of the enhancements he did to himself in haste was coming back to bite him in the ass: his hearing. He thought that it might prove useful but right now.... he was regretting it, big time.

Jack could hear the whispers of other kids as he walked by, and as he expected, the contents of those whispers weren't so cool. They were whispering stuff like, “How come is he the only one who survived?”

Or: “He looks completely fine. How the hell? Was he even on the same bus?”

Some even said, “I bet you he used someone as a shield to protect himself. That's why he's okay and no one else lived.”

Jack had half a mind to bust the heads of all the idiots here but didn't. He had to ignore them and move on. Getting angry at these fools would only waste his energy. No, he was already angry at someone else. At two in particular.

In his fury, he failed to notice that there was one more pair of eyes staring at his departing figure, her brows deeply knitted as if in a deep contemplation.

~

The school was, in short, a torture.

No one from his previous class survived the trip other than Nick and seeing that he couldn't attend the school even if he wanted, it was only natural Jack had to “transfer” to another class

Once there, his new classmates were, outwardly at least, showing concern for his well-being. And also showed more concern for what he had to go through. Teachers treated Jack with the proverbial kiddie gloves – as if he was an expensive glassware that could break apart with the slightest touch. Being politically correct and all that – and Jack got tired of it, real fast.

But then, Jack still felt those accusatory pointing fingers whenever his back was turned. It wasn't even his imagination, either. Their hot, curious and deeply suspicious stares burned into his skin like a scalding iron. It was definitely not a good feeling. Worse still, Sue, Nick's current girlfriend, came to see him during one of the breaks.

She was all in tears. She was very much torn up about Nick's condition. She said she was glad that Jack was okay, that she was thankful for him getting Nick off the bus in time. That action had saved Nick's life, although he was in a vegetative state right now, unresponsive and fighting for every breath.

Sue's crying face made sure the rest of his day remained as miserable as humanly possible. Jack just simply couldn't get past her tearful face.

The faces of the parents of dead classmates, the faces of Nick's parents, Sue's face.... And the faces of souls, trapped inside of him. The ones where he was ruthlessly absorbing for the sake of revenge. All those faces haunted him throughout the day. Thus, it was a pure torture. He was regretting coming here.

After school ended, his new classmates dispersed for their club activities. As for Jack, he belonged to the track and field but was excused due to his current circumstances. Again, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry at his situation.

In the end, he had nowhere else to go. He didn't want to be in the library, didn't want to remain in an empty and foreign classroom, didn't want to be inside the gymnasium – basically, he didn't feel like he belonged anywhere. So, he sat on the bleachers and forlornly watched everyone else do their stuff. No one approached him, nor sat anywhere near him. At least the late afternoon sun felt pleasant on his face, which was nice.

Jack figured that his alienation was partly him putting up a wall no one could surmount. But there was also an element of other kids thinking that he was having a hard time adjusting. It was them being considerate to his plight, trying to give him some space to work his sh*t out.

In reality, Jack's mind was furiously revolving quickly around, hoping that the time might pass by faster this way. It was intolerable, sitting there and having people stare at him like as if he was a zoo animal.

The revolving mind soon arrived at the gloomy topic of his revenge, and the noises of the kids slowly faded into the background as Jack thought about what he needed to do. The need to get stronger was growing inside him like a festering wound but he had no quick and dirty way to achieve the desired growth. He thought about hanging around morgues the whole day, but after a bit of thought, gave up on that idea.

When he went to the cemetery for the funerals of his classmates, he couldn't spot a single red soul there. Not a single one. Jack thought that if a soul wasn't absorbed right away then it would simply dissipate into the thin air – or head straight to the gates of judgment or something.

So, that left him with what, exactly? Could he lurk around in a local hospital the whole day without being accused of some unsavory conduct, waiting around for someone to croak? That was not a time efficient way. Jack needed another method. A legal method. One that wouldn't get him in hot waters. He just couldn't come up with a good one yet.

As he was buried deeply in his thoughts, Jack didn't notice a presence coming up to stand behind him.

“Hey, got a sec?”

Jack stiffened when he heard the voice from behind. He quickly turned around to see a girl. She was around Dana's height, dirty brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and of a slim build. She also wore a pair of spectacles that were pretty..... thick. Her dress code was a standard fair, nothing fancy – perfectly anonymous. Her face was pleasant but again, a plain and anonymous, as if that was the way she wanted to remain.

Jack didn't know this girl. Try as he might, he couldn't even recall whether such a girl actually attended the same school as him.

“Uh, can I help you with something? Do I know you?” Jack reflexively asked.

“No. But I want to talk to you,” said the glasses girl, sharply.

Jack thought there was some kind of glint in her eyes which was sort of unnerving. He had seen the very same eyes almost every morning in the mirror for the last couple of weeks, after all. Thinking that this, whatever this was, might lead to unnecessary trouble, Jack declined promptly.

“Sorry, but can you leave me alone? I don't feel like talking to anyone at the moment.”

“That's too bad, because what I wanted to say, it's important.”

The girl shrugged her shoulders. Then she leaned in closer and whispered. “I know your secret, you see. That you're a Super now.”

Jack sucked in a cold breath. Sweating heavily, he studied the girl's face intently and found the trace of that strange glint burning even stronger than before in her eyes.

“Dunno what you're talking about,” Jack curtly replied.

To his reply, she teasingly chuckled. “It's okay. I'm a Super, too.”

A_Passing_Wanderer · Jun 2, 2017

Whew, finally got some proper writing done.

Chapter 4

“What do you want from me?”

Jack's cautious voice slowly drifted towards the girl in glasses. She had her hands in the jean's pockets, slightly biting her lower lip. It seemed like that she was trying to appear tough and strong. Maybe even street-smart, if such a thing was applicable in the middle of a comfy suburbia.

Well, it was not really important to Jack how she appeared on the surface. All he wanted to know was why this unknown girl saw fit to bother him in the first place.

For that purpose, he had dragged this girl behind the bleachers, away from the prying eyes and potentially disastrous spread of gossip, so they could have a slightly more private chat.

The girl frowned but didn't fail to continue with her tough girl act. “What the.... You aren't even going to ask me for my name first?!”

“Oh, sorry. Right, your name? No doubt you know mine already.”

She shook her head and clicked her tongue, trying to sound a bit disappointed. “OK, whatever. Fine. I'm Taylor Finn. Same year as you, Mercer, just different class.”

“Okay, so that's that. What do you want, Finn?”

“Call me Taylor. The only person who gets called Finn is my old man.” Taylor quipped as she adjusted her glass.

“Yeah, alright, Taylor it is. Okay, for the third time, what is it you want from me?”

“Well, it's simple – I want a cooperation. I need your help on.... something.”

Her face hardened when she said that. A shade of dark loomed over her expression.

Jack couldn't help but feel that, for some reason, it wasn't easy for Taylor to say those words out loud. He quietly narrowed his eyes and studied the girl for a minute or two, wondering what was going on here.

She sure as hell didn't look like a Super, at least to his eyes. She didn't look like one of those types that relied on the overwhelming, brute strength to overcome whatever problems she faced. Maybe she was one of those types that relied on some sort of psychic powers.

It could also mean that she was one of those who chose to live quietly, not bothering with all that Superheroes and villains stuff.

But Jack wasn't going to just nod his head and say “let's do it.” No, he had to be cautious when not knowing the full intentions of the other party, never mind what the girl actually wanted him for. He thought that he should probe the girl's intentions first before deciding on what to do.

“Assuming that I'm a Super like you say, why me? You don't even know anything about me. I didn't know we went to the same school, for instance,” Jack looked straight into her eyes and declared. “Besides, why should I help you in the first place?”

Taylor grunted and shrugged her shoulders again. “True. I know nothing about you. But I heard the rumors, here and there. More importantly, though.... you have gone through some horrible shit. I've been observing for the whole day now and people are treating you carefully. Not wanting to.... I don't know, hurt your feelings or something. I think that's perfect for what I have in mind. Well, and also.... you're the only other Super that I've met.”

“....You wanna use my status as a victim of a tragedy? What? You serious?” Jack looked at Taylor with a pair of disbelieving eyes. She wanted to exploit his pain and suffering for her own gain – obviously, no sane person would agree to such a notion.

Taylor grimaced a little. “Yeah. Dead serious. Otherwise, why would I even try to talk to you?” She then averted her gaze for a second before fixing it on him. “Look. Because of my powers, I know that you're a Super. And that's why you healed up really quickly. You help me, and I won't tell anyone about you and your condition.”

“A Blackmail?!” Jack groaned and kneaded his temples. This girl was giving him a fresh new set of headaches just now with all the nonsense she was uttering out. And it was a big one, too. “This is just great. You blackmailing me sounds pretty stupid, though. I mean, wouldn't that mean you need to expose yourself in the process, too? Did you even think this through?”

A flash of anger flickered in Taylor's eyes. She clenched her fist inside the pockets and spoke, her voice low and guttural.

“Obviously, I have thought this in detail. This is the only card I have left. If you don't help me.... I will do it, you know?”

Jack felt the intensity of his headache increasing at a rate of knots. This was completely unexpected, especially for his first day back in school.

What to do? He had no idea. He didn't want the world to know his real secret. Sure, it might get exposed sooner or later, but he would have preferred it be later – much, much later down the line.

And there was this thing about not letting the Guild of Heroes cotton onto the fact that he was a Super – if they get the wind of it, then that meant him registering, working under constraints, rules and regulations and all that other crap. If he wanted to kill Master Evil and Falcon, those things were absolutely a hindrance he didn't need.

Jack then wondered if he could call her bluff. Was it worth the risk? He thought that at least he should give it a shot.

“This is all nothing but a conjecture. I'm not a Super, and you don't have any proof that I am one, either. I'm leaving.”

Jack turned on his heels and began to walk away. He took only a step before he got interrupted by Taylor, who quickly moved in front of him to block his escape. Of course, there was no way she would let him walk away just like that.

“Wait!! Hold on a sec. We can help each other out, you know?” She sounded flustered as she spread her arms out. “Look, my power – it allows me to tell if a person is a Super or not. It's like a radar. And when I'm close enough, I can even roughly tell what that person can do!!”

“Good for you,” quipped Jack. He sounded not interested. Although, inwardly at least, he was thinking hard of ways to refuse her no matter what she said to him.

“I'm serious. That's how I knew you are a Super, right away!!”

Jack waved his hand in the air dismissively and moved past her. “I don't know what you were expecting, but this is the only possible result from trying to blackmail someone. You earn hostility, not an aid of kindness. So, get the hell out of my way.”

Although he sounded like a tough guy, Jack was actually bracing himself for more of her threatening words or antics. But none came his way.

That slightly surprised him and inadvertently, he turned around to see if Taylor was still there. That was a mistake.

Because, he ended up seeing the face of a girl nearly in tears. She was valiantly holding back the tide as hard as she could.

Upon realizing that she was not faking it, startled Jack began to feel a guilty conscience creeping in. But he knew he couldn't give in now. So he steeled his heart and spoke some words he felt were necessary to end this relationship, or whatever this was, from developing any further.

“Look, this conversation never happened. I don't know you, you don't know me, and let's keep it that way. Don't come near me again.”

Jack didn't want to sound like a jerk, but somehow, he came off like one. It left a strong, sour taste in his mouth. Too late to take back what he said now, though.

He turned around again and left Taylor where she stood. He felt really bad as he did so, but found some sort of solace with knowing that he had his own deadly battle to fight. He simply couldn't mind someone else's fight right now.

If she was a Super, then she better rely on her powers to solve her problems. After all, that was what the powers were for, wasn't it?

Still, the appeasement of his bitter taste lasted all of ten seconds. Yep, he did feel like a massive bastard afterward.

~

After school, Min-jung came personally to fetch Jack. Bob was still tied to his work and so, it became her responsibility for the ride home. She didn't mind as her schedules were empty anyways.

As Dana, she had gone ahead already with one of her friends. Jack initially thought that her actions were kind of like abandoning him behind. He couldn't blame her, though – it was his fault that the atmosphere in the morning being on the wrong side of unbearable. She made the right call to hitch a ride with someone else. If the positions were reversed, he'd probably do the same. Probably.

The ride itself was just as tough as it was in the morning. Jack gripped the armrests tightly, a thin line of sweat forming on his forehead. He shook whenever the undulations on the road's surface made Min-jung's SUV rock a little. He gritted his teeth and endured.

To keep his mind off of things, Jack recalled the encounter with Taylor Finn, and the way it went down. It still left a bitter taste behind.

Did I play that wrong? Should I have reacted differently?

His thoughts were muddled, wavering from one side to the other. He felt a ton of regret for saying harsh things at Taylor. But then again, a part of him was saying she got what she deserved for trying to blackmail him.

Still, that parting face of hers.... He wasn't sure what that face meant. Why did it look like.... a face of agony? A face of someone ready to call it quits, out of sheer desperation?

Like, one of the faces trapped in the red soul crystals inside him? Not as desperate nor horrifying, but not too far off, either.

Jack grimaced. The ride home was tough on him but with these thoughts tumbling around inside his head, he felt like vomiting everything in his gut. It sure was a disgusting sensation to endure.

What did she say about her powers? Something about a radar, right?

Jack took in some deep breath to calm his shaking gut. He knew that being afraid of riding on cars and being on the road was a ridiculous affliction to suffer from – and that he needed to get over this stupid thing quickly if remaining sane in the near future was one of his agenda.

Frustratingly, though – Jack knew he was not capable of overcoming this fear with his own power and needed a way to distract himself, even if temporarily. It's just that, his choice of distraction this time was not a wise one.

Huh. If what she said was true, then.... uh, what? She can tell who's a Super and who isn't? That's not that good a power to have, isn't it?

Jack slowly wiped the sweat off his brows. Taking in another deep breath, he tried to calm his wildly palpitating heart.

Hmm. Whatever help she wanted from me, whatever she needed me for, I guess her powers aren't really suitable for the job. I mean, a radar wouldn't let her shoot a plasma beam from her fingers or something....

But wait a sec, how does she know what my powers are, exactly? Even I'm not 100% sure what it is.

Jack leaned back on the seat but a bump on the road surprised him too much and he nearly jumped out. He gripped the armrest so hard, it was now this close to breaking into pieces.

Whew. Calm down, boy. Calm the Eff down!! Mom's not going to crash. Nothing's going to happen. Just.... relax.

Right, Taylor's powers. She said it's a radar...

Wait a minute. A radar? Could she...

Can she locate someone with her powers? Like a real radar?

Can she help me find Falcon and Master Evil?!

Jack was speechless as soon as the possibility rose up in his mind. If it were true, and Taylor could potentially help him locate two elusive targets, then...

His heart, which was slowly calming down, began to race again. The possibility, if proven true, would be of enormous benefit for his goal, his end game. As things stood, those investigating the whereabouts of Falcon and Master Evil had no clues whatsoever to work with. That was one of the reasons why the carrying out of the justice was taking forever.

But he'd be able to find them and.... kill them, if Taylor's powers were legit. He'd be able to avenge the deaths of his classmates. Of Emily.

No, no wait. I don't know if that's her powers. Maybe it's nothing as fancy as that. I mean, I've never heard of a Superpower that can locate someone anywhere in the world.

No, I must ask Taylor first. Find out the truth, the clarification, whatever.

Jack nodded slowly. Suddenly, like a bright ray of sunlight piercing through the gloomy clouds, he knew exactly what he had to do. He would go back to school tomorrow and confront Taylor, make her explain more about her powers and what she could do. Depending on what Taylor might say, he would then change his plans accordingly.

Regarding what Taylor wanted from Jack, he had no problem. No, it was like him feeling confident of carrying it out no matter what it was. Whether it was some sort of an illegal activity or something just as shady, he didn't care. As long as her powers were useful....

Then, he would jump through multiple loops just for a chance to find the two murdering bastards.

He had decided. This was the path he chose to tread, so he was going to step on it regardless of the cost. He was too determined to give up now.

A deep grimace formed on his face without him noticing. It was a different kind of grimace from the one before, that was formed from the fear.

But this current one, though – it was because of his determination. Thus, its atmosphere was on a different level.

So much so, even Min-jung couldn't help but notice it.

She noticed that her son's grimace was different from the one he had in the morning. Incorrectly, she figured this was because something had happened in school, something obviously not so nice. There was this uncomfortable silence in the car that some random music on the stereo couldn't fix, and she wasn't too keen on staying quiet all the way home so it seemed like a good time to break this invisible wall.

“So, Jack. How was the first day back? Anything interesting happened?”

Min-jung glanced at her son sideways and asked.

“No, nothing much,” Jack replied mirthlessly.

“Did the paparazzi bother you at school? I thought that the security the administrators hired were doing its job.”

“No, that's not it,” Jack shook his head. “There's nothing to worry about, mom. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

His voice was inadvertently raised at the end of his sentence, which surprised Min-jung just a little. To her eyes, Jack was clearly struggling to cope. Even though she was not a regular surgeon or a qualified psychiatrist, she could still tell all the signs of stress her son exhibited.

She sighed deeply. The simple, short ride to and fro between home and the school was stressing him out this much – and there was the matter of insomnia too, as well as the level of his physical fitness that was also abnormal. Abnormal didn't even begin to describe what was happening to her child.

It had been a month since that terrible incident. She had hoped that her son would be at least get better during this time but it seemed like she made a miscalculation.

As frustrating as it was, if her son didn't want to open up, no matter what, it'd be very difficult to help him with his problems.

“Jack, listen. You know that I'm here for you, right? I wish you could trust me a little bit more. Whatever you are going through, we can handle it together. You and me, your dad, Dana – we are a family. We can help each other, if you just talk to us.”

Jack gritted his teeth and nodded. He couldn't speak, for fear of shouting at his mom, which was not what he wanted. This damnable ride was making him do things he'd never do normally. He really didn't enjoy this sensation of being out of control.

He had to agree with whatever Min-jung was saying at the moment. This way, at least he wouldn't get flustered in the worst possible way and do something he may regret later on.

~

Next morning's ride to school was just as tough. It was Bob's turn to give his kids the ride, and his four-door sedan, although possessing a smoother ride quality compared to Min-jung's SUV, still had one or two instances of going over potholes, causing a loud thunk to enter the cabin and upset Jack's already weakened form.

He had half a mind to stay at home and forget about the whole “going to school” business altogether. He really did.

But in the end, finding out the limits of Taylor's powers proved to be too important. He couldn't wait another minute to find the truth.

After a sweaty and nerve-jarring ride, Jack could breathe easy as soon as he left the car's confines. Immediately, he focused and began his search for Taylor among the crowd of students hurrying to enter the school. Disappointingly, his first search was fruitless; he didn't see her.

Jack figured that, since she did say something about them being in the same year, his scope of search should be confined to the specific section of the school building where his own class was located in.

In order to maintain the veil of normalcy, he decided not to ask others for more information or wander around during class hours, lest he roused suspicions from the overactive imaginations belonging to the hormonal teenagers.

Jack paid a lot of extra attention during the breaks between the periods. Kids swarmed the corridors like an ocean of bodies and it was harder than expected to find Taylor, even if he was pretty sure she was among the crowd.

In the end, though – he failed to find her this way. His search left him empty-handed. She was just nowhere to be found. It was an odd thing – as if Taylor was actively in hiding. As if she didn't want to be found in the first place.

Well, if her abilities are exactly like a radar, then I guess she can hide from people trying to locate her, right?

When Jack thought like this, his desire to find Taylor and get the truth out of her became urgent, to a point where it might explode out into the open like a bomb. He felt impatient, wanting to scour the entire premise of the school just to find the glasses-wearing girl. He was pretty damn sure she was somewhere nearby.

Somehow, he was able to calm down enough to wait until the lunch break. He figured that everyone had to eat lunch, including Taylor. Well, unless she was eating alone somewhere....

Jack rushed to the cafeteria the moment the bells rang. He was almost the first to arrive there, and also the first to earn the ire of the lunch ladies as he didn't immediately stand in the line and obediently go for his meal like other students but rather, stood around in the doorway, searching. He even thought about climbing on top of a table to get a better look, but refrained after seeing the annoyed gazes of the lunch ladies.

As the starved kids streamed in and began filling the cafeteria, it got a bit harder to find someone of Taylor's height. But he kept at it.

Finally, his diligence paid off.

He saw Taylor in the distance, walking alone towards the cafeteria. She had her head down, avoiding running into anyone and carefully weaving her way between the throngs of other students. If it won't for Jack specifically searching for her, he would have missed her completely by the way she was acting.

Since there was some way before she actually made her way into the cafeteria, Jack chose to go out and intercept her halfway. The sooner the better it was for him, after all.

As he began to wade past the moving bodies, an unexpected interruption to his plans appeared in the form of his younger sister, Dana. She was with a couple of her friends as she was entering the cafeteria when she spotted her brother hastily leaving.

She quickly moved to his side and stopped him, calling for her friends to create an obstacle at this crucial juncture in his quest for vengeance.

“Hey, Jack. Finished already?! Where are you going?” Dana grabbed onto his arm playfully and tugged at him. “Mind accompanying us for a while?”

“No can do. There's something I gotta do first.”

“Oww, don't be like that. Join us,” Dana pouted like a spoiled child and kept on tugging at his arm.

Jack smiled awkwardly at this – he wanted to brush her off nice and easy but he could see that Dana was being quite insistent. However, his “quest” had to take the precedence over her feelings, at least for now.

“Hey, Dana. Can I take a rain check? I'll make it up to you later. I promise.”

Dana shook her head. “Nope. I got you now, so you're coming with me. No buts or ifs, okay? It's fine, right, guys?” She turned to ask her friends, whom all nodded their consents.

Jack felt helpless. He was going to firmly say no, but then, Taylor brushed past him, casting a short, sideways glance at his way. Jack couldn't see her face well so it was difficult to tell what her full expression was like, but for some reason, he thought it was not particularly a good one.

That brought back the slight feeling of guilt from the day before.

Jack watched the girl walk by and enter the cafeteria. Oblivious to all this, Dana then successfully dragged her brother in as well.

The rest of the lunch went okay – Jack was surrounded by his sister and her friends, and they talked about girl stuff which he found almost indecipherable. It was the same while he was dating Emily, though, so not much had changed in that respect, he mused to himself.

While eating and listening, he paid as much attention as possible to where Taylor was. She sat by herself in the corner and ate her meal silently, making Jack wonder whether this girl had any friends in the school at all. Not a single person came up to her and engaged in conversation with the girl.

Eventually, Taylor finished with her meal and was about to leave. She hadn't completely finished with her stuff but to Jack, she looked like she was in a hurry to get going.

The reason for her sudden need to leave became apparent when a group of girls began surrounding her. Jack instantly recognized them and the person leading it – which caused him to break out in a frown.

“Oh, that can't be good,” Jack groaned softly.

The leader of the group was Cindy McAlister, one of those bitchy high school queen bee archetype that liked to bully nerds and the like. She was infamous for laying down the law, her law, on several cliche-ridden things like who could talk to her or even breathe the same air as her. Since she was also quite popular with the members of opposite sex, she got away with a fair amount of nasty behavior in the past. A flick of her abundant golden locks and a flirtatious wink of her lashes was enough to absolve most of her crimes and that emboldened her remarkably in the past year or two.

Her posse – or menagerie, depending on who one asked – consisted of ass-kissers and her BFFs, but in truth, they were all her soldiers, for a lack of better description. This time, Cindy had three of her “friends” to aid her.

Even Jack could see the direction this was going in. He quickly got up from the seat, drawing the focus of his tablemates.

“What's wrong?” Dana asked, puzzled.

“I'll be right back.”

By the time he crossed half way through the busy cafeteria, the trouble had already started. Cindy's group had already cornered Taylor and isolated her, and one of the girls – Jack couldn't remember her name – was doing an impression of a disdainful ghetto babe mouthing off her rival in love. Or something like that. The others were simply looking on with the expressions of a cold sneer.

Unfortunately, Jack could hear the contents of that seemingly unnecessary beratement thanks to his slightly improved hearing. What he heard made him ticked off.

Taylor's get up was being criticized. That was all. But the implications of the remarks were biting, to say the least. Calling the bespectacled girl a dyke and all that. Jack wanted to retort that in this day and age, who cared which way you leaned?

Taylor's expression was dark. She tried to avoid confronting the group by not saying a word. Wisely enough, she moved past the cordon to leave, but then, another one of Cindy's goons shoved from behind and as a result, Taylor took a tumble forward. The half-eaten contents of her food tray spilled noisily on the floor.

The whole thing had drawn enough attention of the other kids by now. To Jack's dismay, he found some of the other kids were chuckling at the misfortune of Taylor, while some were eyeing the whole situation with disdain.

There were those with eyes of pity – but no one tried to help Taylor. The reputation of Cindy was too well known and it seemed like no one wanted to interfere.

Jack increased his pace and came closer. And as he got near, suddenly, he realized that this scene was rather familiar to him.

Holy crap. Now I remember – there was this one girl who was getting pushed around by Cindy and her gang. It was Taylor all this time.

Crap, I haven't even noticed it until now....

Jack felt his face getting hot; it was the shame.

He felt shameful for not trying to break up this.... crap before. He could have tried to save her, at least momentarily, but was inwardly afraid of earning the anger of the queen bee. His previous cowardice was like a knife slowly gouging at his sides. Well, things were different now. He had strengths to back himself up, even if he couldn't readily expose it yet.

By the time he got close enough, he could hear the scornful laughter of the posse of bitchy and somewhat vindictive girls. With Cindy as the lynchpin, they were jeering Taylor as if she was a creature born solely for ridicule.

Jack saw that the glasses girl was fighting back tears as she tried to get up but she got pushed back down again. She let out a whimper as she fell down on the spilled foodstuffs. That drew in more of that grating, derisive laughter.

It was at this time Jack intervened.

“That's enough.”

He spoke in a firm voice, drawing the attention of the group. They seemed taken back at his intervention and eyed him suspiciously. As their leader, Cindy had to say something, so she did.

“This doesn't concern you, Mercer. Walk away.”

Jack ignored her and bent down to offer his hand. “Hey, you okay? Can you walk?”

Taylor nodded silently but she pushed his offered hand away and glared at him for a second, before trying to leave once more. Of course, Cindy and her goons wouldn't allow that to happen.

When they tried to block Taylor again, Jack raised his voice again.

“I said, that's enough!! What's wrong with you people?!”

Cindy cocked an eyebrow at him and raised her clearly irritated voice.

“Mercer, stay out of this, if you know what's good for you. We don't need a wannabe hero here.”

“No, you back the hell off, if you got a functioning brain in that head of yours.”

Jack spat out aggressively before walking away himself. He ignored the indignant cursings coming from the girls behind him and followed Taylor out of the cafeteria.

Somehow, their footsteps led them to the back of the bleachers. Taylor was waiting for him there, leaning against the structure and trying her best to look nonchalant – and tough. It wasn't entirely convincing, though.

“That – that happen a lot?” Jack asked her, pointing behind him, towards the cafeteria building.

“I thought we don't know each other? What's changed?”

Taylor's wet eyes were sharp, like daggers boring into his skin. Jack felt that pang of guilt, the shame, rise back up again. He repressed it and shook his head.

“Look, I'm sorry about what I said yesterday. I came off sounding like an asshole.”

“Oh, so you know. That's just great,” said Taylor sarcastically.

Her reaction slightly ticked off Jack, so he also spoke in kind. “Well, what did you expect after trying to blackmail me? Of course I was going to get angry.” Sighing, Jack then leaned on the bleachers next to her. Scratching the back of his head, Jack wondered how he should broach the subject of her powers.

After a moment or two of deliberation, he decided to use Cindy and her gang. At least they would be good for something this way.

“Okay, I'm taking a wild guess here, but.... That help you mentioned – is it against Cindy and her cronies?”

“You are sharper than you look,” Taylor quipped.

Jack groaned and shook his head. “That girl.... she's trouble. Not sure how you landed on her crosshairs, but – fine. I'll cooperate. I'll help you, but you help me out too.”

“With what, exactly? Aren't you afraid of associating with a dork like me? Becoming a target of the queen bee and her pack of mad dogs?”

Jack shook his head. “Well, don't worry about that. If she's got a brain then she won't do anything, at least not for a while. As for what you can help me with.... well, first, I want to know more about your powers.”

Jack said it up front, in order to ensure there wouldn't be any misunderstandings later.

Taylor narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “My powers? Why? Haven't I told you enough about them already?”

“No, what I have in mind.... is this. Can you help me locate someone? Like, a Super?”

Jack asked cautiously as he felt that how he approached the topic here would make the world of difference. He sure as hell didn't want Taylor to switch off from their tacit agreement since that would be disastrous for him.

Taylor's eyes narrowed still. She slowly adjusted the glasses on her nose and went silent for a long while.

Finally, she asked. “Why?”

Jack took a deep breath. And he told her the reason.

As usual, any (constructive) input regarding on where I could improve would be appreciated. Thanks.

Edit June 2nd:

Chapter 4: The Alliance

Jack was bewildered at this approach and needed a second or two to get a grip on his confusion.

Once recovered somewhat, he realized where they were. Jack quickly motioned the girl to follow him and went behind the bleachers, away from the prying eyes and potentially disastrous spread of gossip.

The girl followed him back without saying anything else. After reaching the relative hidden depth of the bleachers, Jack turned around to study the girl for a moment or two, trying to analyze the situation. She stood there, her hands in the jean's pockets, slightly biting her lower lip, waiting. It seemed like that she was trying to appear tough and strong. Maybe even street-smart, if such a thing was applicable in the middle of a comfy suburbia.

Well, it was not really important to Jack how she appeared on the surface. All he wanted to know was why this unknown girl saw fit to bother him in the first place.

“What do you want from me?”

Jack's cautious voice slowly drifted towards the girl in glasses.

She frowned but didn't fail to continue with her tough girl act. “What the.... You aren't even going to ask me for my name first?!”

“Oh, sorry. Right, your name? I'm sure you know mine already.”

She shook her head and clicked her tongue, trying to sound a bit disappointed. “OK, whatever. Fine. I'm Taylor Finn. Same year as you, Mercer, just a different class.”

“Okay, so that's that. What do you want, Finn?”

“Call me Taylor. The only person who gets called Finn is my old man.” Taylor quipped as she adjusted her glass.

“Yeah, alright, Taylor it is. Okay, for the third time, what is it you want from me?”

“Well, it's simple, really – I want your cooperation. I need your help on.... something.”

Her face hardened when she said that, a dark shadow looming over her expression. Jack noticed the change and thought that Taylor must have found it difficult to openly talk about her issues. He quietly narrowed his eyes and studied the girl again, wondering what could be her troubles.

Taylor sure as hell didn't resemble a Super, at least to his eyes. She didn't look like one of those types that relied on the overwhelming brute strength to overcome whatever problems she faced. Maybe, she was one of those that relied on some sort of crazy, mind-bending psychic powers.

Was she one of those who chose to live quietly, not bothering with all that Superheroes and villains stuff? Jack mused inwardly. Whatever her situation was, he wasn't going to just nod his head and say “I'm all yours.”

Nope, he had to be cautious when not knowing the real intention of the other party, never mind the fact that he didn't even know what this girl actually wanted from him. Finding out that bit out first before deciding on what to do took precedence over all else.

“Assuming that I'm a Super like you say, why me? You don't even know anything about me. Hell, until today, I didn't know we went to the same school,” Jack looked straight into her eyes and declared. “Besides, why should I help you in the first place?”

Taylor grunted and shrugged her shoulders again. “True. I know nothing about you. But I heard the rumors, here and there. More importantly, though.... You have gone through some horrible sh*t. I've been observing you for the whole day and I saw how everyone is treating you. They obviously don't want to.... I don't know, hurt your feelings or something. That's perfect for what I have in mind, you see. Well, and also.... you're the only other Super that I know personally.”

“....You wanna use my status as a victim of a tragedy? What the hell? You serious?” Jack looked at Taylor with a pair of disbelieving eyes.

She basically wanted to exploit his pain and suffering for her own gain, something no sane or caring human being would even dare to do. A layer of anger covered Jack's disbelief, nearly making him swear out at her.

Taylor grimaced a little before continuing on. “Yeah. Dead serious. Otherwise, why would I even tell you my secret in the first place? Look. Because of my powers, I know that you're a Super. And that's why you healed up really quickly. You help me, and I won't tell anyone about you and your condition.”

The penny dropped, and Jack groaned aloud. “A blackmail?!”

He slowly kneaded his pulsing temples. Taylor was giving him a fresh set of headaches with this crap. Not to mention, it was a big one too.

“This is just great. Great!! Wow. But gotta say, you trying to blackmail me sounds pretty stupid, don't you think? I mean, wouldn't that mean you need to expose your secret in the process if I don't agree to your conditions? Then what will you do? Hell, did you even think this through?”

Jack's voice rose in anger as he reproached Taylor. A flash of anger flickered in her eyes in response. She clenched her fist inside the pockets and spoke, her voice low and guttural.

“Obviously, I have thought this through. This is the only card I have left. If you don't help me.... I will do it, you know?”

Jack felt the intensity of his headache increasing at a rate of knots. What a completely unexpected development this was, especially for his first day back in school.

What should Jack do now? He couldn't come up with a suitable idea on the spot. He didn't want the world to know his real secret, not yet. Sure, it might get exposed sooner or later, but he would have preferred it be later – much, much later down the line.

Most importantly, Jack didn't want to alert the Guild of Heroes to the fact that he was a Super – if they got the wind of it, then that would mean him landing on their attention, his profile registered, asked to work under constraints, rules and regulations and all that crap.

If Jack wanted to kill Master Evil and Falcon, to get his revenge, those things were absolutely a hindrance he didn't need.

He wondered if he could call her bluff. Was it worth the risk? He thought that at least he should give it a shot, see how she reacted.

“You know what? This is nothing but conjecture. I'm not a Super, and you don't have any solid proof that I am one, either. I'm leaving.”

Jack turned on his heels and began to walk away. He took only a step before Taylor interrupted his escape by quickly moving in front of him. There was no way she'd let him walk away just like that.

“Wait!! Hold on a sec. We can help each other out, you know?” She sounded flustered as she spread her arms out. “Look, my power – it allows me to tell if a person is a Super or not and when someone is nearby. It's like a radar. And when I'm close enough, I can even roughly tell what that person can do!!”

“Good for you,” quipped Jack. He sounded not interested. Inwardly, though, he was frowning at her attempt to sway him. Not that he'd give her the time of a day, since she had the galls to blackmail a total stranger.

“I'm serious. That's how I knew you are a Super, right away!!”

Jack waved his hand dismissively in the air and moved past her. “I don't know what you were expecting, but this is the only possible result from trying to blackmail someone. You earn hostility, not a pledge of friendship. So, get the hell out of my way.”

Jack wanted to sound like a tough guy. He really did. A man's pride and all that. But inwardly, he was actually bracing himself for more of her threatening words or antics. If Taylor was to put the squeeze on, then he wouldn't be able to persist. But, to his great relief, none came his way.

Wondering what happened, he turned around to see if Taylor was still there. Well, that was a mistake. Because, he ended up seeing the face of a girl nearly in tears. She was valiantly holding back the tide as hard as she could.

Upon realizing that she was not faking it, Jack was startled and began to feel a guilty conscience creeping in. But now that he had hopped on this train, it was too late to back off. So, he steeled his heart and spoke some words he thought were necessary to end this relationship, or whatever this was, from developing any further.

“Look, this conversation never happened. I don't know you, you don't know me. Let's keep it that way. Don't talk to me about this, again.”

Jack didn't want to sound like a jerk, but somehow, he came off as one. It left a strong sour taste in his mouth. Too late to take back what he said now, though.

He turned around again and left Taylor where she stood. He felt really bad as he did so, but found some sort of solace with knowing that he had his own deadly battle to overcome. He simply couldn't mind someone else's fight right now.

If she was a Super, then she'd better rely on her powers to solve her problems. After all, that was what they were for, wasn't it? Still, the appeasement of his guilt lasted all of ten seconds. Yep, he still felt like a massive bastard in the end.

~

After school, Min-jung came to fetch Jack. Bob was still tied up at his work and so, it became her responsibility to provide the ride home. She didn't really mind as her schedules were empty anyways.

As for Dana, she had gone ahead already with one of her friends. Jack thought that her actions were kind of like abandoning him behind which was really uncool. But he didn't have the heart to blame her, as the unbearable atmosphere of the morning commute was entirely his fault. Who would want to endure another round of that torture? Dana had made the right call to hitch a ride with someone else. If the positions were reversed, he'd probably do the same. Probably.

The afternoon ride proved to be just as challenging as in the morning. Jack gripped the armrests tightly, a thin film of sweat forming on his forehead. He shook whenever the undulations on the road's surface made Min-jung's SUV rock a little. He gritted his teeth and endured.

To keep his mind off things, Jack recalled the encounter with Taylor Finn, and the unpleasant way it went down, leaving behind a bitter taste until now.

Did I play that wrong? Should I have said and reacted differently?

His thoughts were muddled, wavering from one side to the other. He felt a ton of regret for saying those things at Taylor. But then again, a part of him also chimed in, saying that she got what she deserved for trying to blackmail him.

Whatever, that parting face of hers really bothered Jack. He couldn't be sure what that face meant. Why did it look like.... a face of agony? A face of someone ready to call it quits, out of sheer desperation? Like one of the faces trapped in the red soul crystals inside him? Maybe not as desperate nor as horrifying but not too far off, either.

Jack grimaced and sighed deeply at himself. The ride home was tough on him but with these thoughts tumbling around inside his head, he felt like vomiting everything in his gut. It sure was a disgusting sensation to endure. How the hell did he become like this?

He shook his head and tried to sort out his head first. That meant organizing everything Taylor told him today. Then he remembered what she said about her powers.

What was that about her powers? Something about being a radar, right?

Jack's attempt to calm his shaking gut seemed to work, his innards tumbling around less. He felt pretty pathetic about having a phobia of riding cars and being on the road. It was a ridiculous affliction to suffer from and that if he wanted to remain sane for the rest of his life, he needed to get over this ASAP.

Frustratingly, though, Jack knew he was not capable of overcoming this fear with his own power just yet and needed a way to distract himself, even if temporarily. It's just that, his choice of distraction this time was maybe not a best one.

Huh. If what she said was true, then.... uh, what? She can tell who's a Super and who isn't? That's not that good a power to have, isn't it?

Jack slowly wiped the sweat off his brows. Taking in another deep breath. His heart beat just a tad steadier, calmer.

Hmm. Whatever help she wanted from me, whatever she needed me for, I guess her powers aren't really suitable for the job. I mean, a radar wouldn't let her shoot a plasma beam from her fingers or something....

But wait a sec, how does she know what my powers are, exactly? Even I'm not 100% sure what it is.

Jack leaned back on the seat but a bump on the road surprised him too much and he nearly jumped out. He gripped the armrest so hard, it was now this close to breaking into pieces. His calming heart began to race again.

Whew. Calm down, boy. Calm the Eff down!! Mom's not going to crash. Nothing's going to happen. Just.... relax.

Right, Taylor's powers. She said it's a radar...

Wait a minute. A radar? Could she...

Can she locate someone with her powers? Like a real radar?

Can she help me find Falcon and Master Evil?!

Jack became speechless as soon as this possibility rose up in his mind. If true, Taylor could potentially help him locate his two elusive targets, then....

His heart, which was slowly calming down, began to race again.

As it was now, the whereabouts of Falcon and Master Evil were unknown. Additionally, no one had a clue whatsoever to work with. That was one of the reasons why the carrying out of the justice was literally taking forever.

But he'd be able to find them and.... kill them if Taylor's powers were legit. He'd be able to avenge the deaths of his classmates. Of Emily. And Nick. And himself.

No, no wait. I don't know if that's her powers. Maybe it's nothing as fancy as that. I mean, I've never heard of a Superpower that can locate someone anywhere in the world.

No, I must ask Taylor first. Find out the truth, get the clarification, whatever.

Jack nodded slowly. Suddenly, like a bright ray of sun piercing through the gloomy clouds, he saw the path open up. He knew exactly what to do.

Jack would go back to school tomorrow and confront Taylor, make her explain more about her powers. Depending on what Taylor might say, he would then modify his plans accordingly.

Regarding what Taylor wanted from Jack, he figured it shouldn't be too much of a problem. No, it was like him feeling confident of carrying it out no matter what it was. Whether it was some sort of an illegal activity or something just as shady, he didn't care. As long as her powers were useful....

Jack was prepared to jump through multiple hoops just for a chance to find the two murdering bastards.

Jack made his mind up. This was the path he chose to tread, so he was going to step on it regardless of the cost. He was too determined to give up here.

A deep, hardened grimace formed on Jack's face without him noticing. It was a different kind of grimace from the one before, the one formed from the fear. This new expression originated from his determination. Thus, its intense atmosphere was on a whole new level.

So much so, even Min-jung couldn't help but notice it.

She saw that her son's expression was different from the one he had in the morning. Incorrectly, she figured this was because something not so good had happened in school. There was this uncomfortable silence in the car that some random music on the stereo couldn't fix, and she wasn't too keen on staying quiet all the way home so it seemed like a good time to break the invisible wall.

“So, Jack. How was your first day back? Anything interesting happened?”

Min-jung glanced at her son and asked.

“No, nothing much,” Jack replied mirthlessly.

“Did the paparazzi bother you at school? I thought that the security the school board hired were doing its job.”

“No, that's not it,” Jack shook his head. “Don't worry, mom. I can handle it.”

His voice was inadvertently raised at the end of his sentence, which surprised Min-jung just a little. To her eyes, Jack was clearly struggling to cope. Even though she was not a regular surgeon or a qualified psychiatrist, she could still tell all the signs of stress her son exhibited.

She sighed deeply. The simple, short ride to and fro between home and the school was stressing him out this much. And lest she forgets, there was the matter of insomnia too. On top of that, Jack's level of physical fitness was abnormal as well. Min-jung could not help but worry, whether he was finally showing the signs or not.

She also felt helpless that unless Jack opened up by himself, no matter what, it'd be very difficult for Min-jung to help her son with his problems.

A month passed by since that terrible incident. She'd hoped that her son might get better as the time moved on but maybe, she miscalculated here.

“Jack, listen. You know that I'm here for you, right? I wish you could trust me a little more. Whatever you are going through, we can handle it together. You and me, your dad, Dana – we are a family. We can help each other, if you just talk to us.”

Jack gritted his teeth and nodded. He chose not to speak for fear of inadvertently shouting at his mom just like now. This damnable phobia was making him do things he'd never do normally. How he hated himself for being scared. He needed to get a grip.

Jack knew that once he got his revenge, then everything will be alright. That, everything will go back to where it was.

~

Next morning's school run was just as tough. It was Bob's turn to give his kids the ride and his four-door sedan, although possessing an altogether far smoother ride quality compared to Min-jung's over-sized SUV, still had one or two instances of going over potholes, which caused a loud thunk to transmit into the cabin and upset Jack's already weakened mind.

He nearly chose to stay at home and forget about this whole “going to school” business completely. He really did. But in the end, finding out the truths of Taylor's powers proved to be too tempting. He couldn't wait another minute to get closer to his end goal.

After a sweaty and nerve-jarring ride, Jack could finally breathe easy as soon as he left the car and set foot on the school ground. Immediately, he focused his mind and began searching for Taylor's shadow among the crowd of students hurrying to enter the school. Disappointingly, his first search was fruitless; he didn't see her.

Jack figured that, since she did say something about them being in the same year, his scope of search should be confined to the specific section of the school building where his own class was located in. That sounded simpler to look into.

In order to maintain the veil of normalcy, he decided not to ask others for more information or wander around during class hours, lest he roused suspicions from the overactive imaginations of the hormonal teenagers.

Jack paid a lot of extra attention during the breaks between the periods. Kids swarmed the corridors like an ocean of bodies and it was harder than expected to find Taylor, even if he was pretty sure she was among the crowd.

In the end, though, he failed to find her this way as well. His search left him empty-handed. She was just nowhere to be found. It was an odd thing, as if Taylor was actively in hiding.

As if she didn't want to be found in the first place by anyone, including Jack.

Well, if her abilities are exactly like a radar, then I guess she can hide from people trying to locate her, right?

When Jack thought like this, his desire to find Taylor and get the truth out of her took on an urgent note, to a point where it might explode out into the open like a bomb. He felt impatient, wanting to scour the entire premise of the school just to find the glasses-wearing girl. He was pretty damn sure she was somewhere nearby.

Somehow, he managed to calm down enough to wait until the lunch break. He figured that everyone had to eat lunch, including Taylor. Well, unless she was eating alone somewhere....

Jack rushed to the cafeteria the moment the bells rang. He was almost the first to arrive, and also the first to earn the ire of the lunch ladies as he didn't immediately stand in the line and obediently go for his meal like other students but rather, stood around in the doorway, searching. He even thought about climbing on top of a table to get a better look, but refrained after seeing the annoyed gazes of the lunch ladies.

As the starved kids streamed in and started to fill up the cafeteria, it got a bit harder to find someone of Taylor's height. But he kept at it.

Finally, his diligence paid off.

He saw Taylor in the distance, walking alone towards the cafeteria. She had her head down, avoiding running into anyone and carefully weaving her way between the throngs of other students. If it won't for Jack specifically searching for her, he would have missed her completely by the way she was hiding her presence.

Since there was some distance before she could actually enter the cafeteria, Jack chose to go out and intercept her halfway. The sooner the better it was for him, after all.

As he began to row past the moving bodies, an unexpected interruption to his plans appeared in the form of his younger sister, Dana. She was with a couple of her friends as she entered the cafeteria when she spotted her brother hastily leaving.

She quickly moved to his side and stopped him, calling for her friends to create an obstacle at this crucial juncture in his quest for vengeance.

“Hey, Jack. Finished already?! Where are you going?” Dana grabbed onto his arm playfully and tugged at him. “Mind accompanying us for a while?”

“No can do. There's something I gotta do first.”

“Oww, don't be like that. Join us,” Dana pouted like a spoiled child and kept on tugging at his arm.

Jack smiled awkwardly at her. He wanted to brush her off nice and easy but he could see that Dana was being quite insistent. However, his “quest” had to take the precedence over her feelings, at least for now.

“Hey, Dana. Can I take a rain check? I'll make it up to you later. I promise.”

Dana shook her head. “Nope. I got you now, so you're coming with me. No buts or ifs, okay? It's fine, right, guys?” She turned to ask her friends, whom all nodded their consents.

Jack felt helpless. He was going to firmly say no, but then, Taylor brushed past him, casting a short, sideways glance at his way. Jack couldn't see her face well so it was difficult to tell what her full expression was like, but for some reason, he thought it was not particularly a good one.

That slight feeling of guilt from the day before reared its ugly head and Jack felt like crap, watching the back of Taylor walking further away. Oblivious to all this, Dana successfully managed to drag her brother back in the cafeteria.

The rest of the lunch went okay, considering. Jack was surrounded by Dana and her friends, and they talked about girl stuff which he found almost completely indecipherable. He mused to himself that it was also like this back when he was still going out with Emily, where he earned a plenty of her ire due to his ignorance as well. He was glad to find that at least in this regard, he hadn't changed that much after all.

Thinking about his past with Emily made his resolution to satisfy the thirst for vengeance that only firmer. While only half listening to his sister, Jack paid as much attention as possible to where Taylor was. She sat by herself in the corner and ate her meal silently, making him wonder whether this girl had any friends in the school at all. Not a single person came up to her and engaged in conversation with the girl.

Eventually, Taylor seemed to finish with her meal and was about to leave. Jack thought that she looked like in a hurry to get going.

The reason for her sudden desire to leave became apparent when a group of girls began surrounding her. Jack instantly recognized them and the person leading it, which caused him to break out in an unhappy frown.

“Oh, that can't be good,” Jack groaned softly.

The leader of the group was Cindy McAlister, one of those bitchy high school queen bee archetype that liked to bully nerds and the like. She was infamous for laying down the law, her law, on several cliche-ridden things, like who could talk to her or even breathe the same air as her. Since she was also quite popular with the members of the opposite sex, she got away with a fair amount of nasty behavior. A flick of her abundant golden locks and a flirtatious wink of her lashes were enough to absolve most of her crimes and that emboldened her remarkably in the past year or two.

Her posse – or menagerie, depending on who you asked – consisted of ass-kissers and her BFFs, but in truth, they were all her soldiers, for a lack of better description. This time, Cindy had three of her “friends” to aid her.

Even Jack could see the direction this was going in. He quickly got up from the seat, drawing the focus of his tablemates.

“What's wrong?” asked Dana, puzzled.

“I'll be right back.”

By the time he crossed half way through the busy cafeteria, the trouble had already started. Cindy's group had cornered Taylor and isolated her, and one of the girls – Jack couldn't remember her name – was doing an impression of a disdainful ghetto babe mouthing off her rival in love. Or something like that. The other members of Cindy's clique were simply looking on with the expressions of a cold sneer.

Unfortunately, Jack could hear the contents of that seemingly unnecessary beratement thanks to his slightly improved hearing. What he heard ticked him off.

Taylor's get up was the first to be criticized. The implications of the remarks were that the bespectacled girl was a dyke and all that. Jack wanted to retort that, in this day and age, who cared which way you leaned? Next to come under the verbal assault was her father. Apparently, he wasn't good enough for this school, calling him a slave at one point, even.

Taylor's expression was understandably dark. She wordlessly tried to avoid confronting the group and wisely she moved past the cordon to leave. But then, another one of Cindy's goons shoved her from behind and as a result, Taylor took a nasty tumble forward. The half-eaten contents of her food tray spilled noisily on the floor.

The whole thing had drawn enough attention of the other kids by then. To Jack's dismay, he found some of the other kids were chuckling at the misfortune of Taylor, while some were eyeing the whole situation with irritation.

There were those with eyes of pity too, but no one tried to help Taylor. The reputation of Cindy was too well known and it seemed like no one wanted to interfere.

Jack increased his pace and came closer. And as he got near, he suddenly realized that this scene playing out in the cafeteria was rather a familiar one.

Holy crap. Now I remember. There was this one girl who kept on getting pushed around by Cindy and her gang. It was Taylor all this time.

Crap, I haven't even noticed it until now....

Jack felt his face getting hot from the shame.

He felt shameful for not trying to break up this.... crap before. He could have tried to save her, at least once, but was afraid of earning the anger of the queen bee, just like other kids here.

His previous cowardice was like an ice-cold knife slowly gouging at his sides. Well, things were different now. He had the strengths to back himself up, even if he couldn't readily expose it yet.

By the time he got close enough, he could hear the scornful laughter of the posse of bitchy and somewhat vindictive girls. With Cindy as the lynchpin, they were jeering Taylor as if she was a lowly creature born solely for ridicule.

Jack saw that the glasses girl was fighting back tears as she tried to get up but she got pushed back down again. She let out a whimper as she fell down on the spilled foodstuffs. That drew in more of that grating, derisive laughter.

It was getting on Jack's nerves quite a bit.

“That's enough.”

He spoke in a firm voice, drawing the attention of the group away. They seemed taken back at his intervention and eyed him suspiciously. As their leader, Cindy had to say something, so she did.

“This doesn't concern you, Mercer. Walk away.”

Jack ignored her and bent down to offer his hand. “Hey, you okay? Can you stand?”

Taylor nodded silently but she pushed his offered hand away and glared at him for a second, before trying to leave once more. Of course, Cindy and her goons wouldn't allow that to happen.

When they tried to block Taylor again, Jack raised his voice again.

“I said, that's enough!! What's wrong with you people?!”

Cindy cocked an eyebrow at him and raised her clearly irritated voice.

“Mercer, stay out of this, if you know what's good for you. We don't need a wannabe hero here.”

“No, you back the hell off, if you got a functioning brain in that head of yours.”

Jack spat out aggressively before walking away himself. He ignored the indignant cursings coming from the girls behind him and followed Taylor out of the cafeteria.

Somehow, their footsteps led them to the back of the bleachers. Taylor was waiting for him there, leaning against the structure and trying her best to look nonchalant and tough. It failed to convince him, though.

“That – that happen a lot?” Jack asked her, pointing behind him, towards the cafeteria building.

“I thought we don't know each other? What's changed?”

Taylor's wet eyes were sharp, like daggers boring into his skin. Jack felt that pang of guilt, the shame, rise back up again. He forcibly repressed it and shook his head.

“Look, I'm sorry about what I said yesterday. I came off sounding like an asshole.”

“Oh, so you know. That's just great,” said Taylor sarcastically.

Her reaction this time ticked off Jack slightly, so he also spoke in kind. “Well, what did you expect after trying to blackmail me? Of course I was going to get angry.” Sighing, Jack then leaned on the bleachers next to her. Scratching the back of his head, Jack wondered how he should broach the subject of her powers.

After a moment or two of deliberation, he decided to use Cindy and her gang. At least they would be useful for something this way.

“Okay, I'm taking a wild guess here, but.... That help you mentioned – is it against Cindy and her cronies?”

“You are sharper than you look,” quipped Taylor.

Jack groaned and shook his head. “That girl.... she's trouble. Not sure how you landed on her crosshairs, but – fine. I'll cooperate. I'll help you, but you help me out too.”

“With what, exactly? Aren't you afraid of associating with a dork like me? Becoming a target of the queen bee and her pack of mad, rabid dogs?”

Jack shook his head. “Well, don't worry about that. If she's got a brain then she won't do anything, at least not for a while. As for what you can help me with.... well, first, I want to know more about your powers.”

Jack said it up front, in order to ensure there wouldn't be any misunderstandings later.

Taylor narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “My powers? Why? Haven't I told you enough about them already?”

“No, what I have in mind.... is this. Can you help me locate someone specific? Like, a Super?”

Jack asked cautiously, feeling that how he broached the topic here would make the world of difference. He sure as hell didn't want Taylor to break off their tacit agreement. That would be a disastrous result for him.

Taylor's eyes narrowed. She slowly adjusted the glasses on her nose and went silent for a long while.

Finally, she asked. “Why?”

Jack took a deep breath and he told her the reason.

Finally, a slightly different version. By the way, I decided to go with titling each chapters now. An experiement, as it were.

Setra · Apr 3, 2017

Actually, I quite like the unedited version of chapter 1. With no dialogue, it captured the feeling of Jack's solitude (or loneliness?) being the only survivor.

A_Passing_Wanderer · Jun 2, 2017

Chapter 5

“A mask. You will need a mask.”

Taylor said with a deadpan expression.

“Huh? Why do I need a mask for?”

Jack was slightly puzzled by her suggestion and couldn't help but ask.

“Simple. A secret identity, Jack. It's for keeping your identity secret from your enemies and the like. I mean, really – how many Supers you know walk around bare faced? Exactly. Even Vanguard wears that gaudy wrestling mask of his.”

A secret identity, eh? Jack nodded in contemplation. It was indeed true that most villains and heroes wore some type of facial wear, whether for style or safety. But Jack understood the need for keeping his identity to himself in his pursuit of vengeance.

For one, he was going after two targets. If he missed one, then if he was not careful, his family might be in danger of retaliation. That wouldn't do. At all.

“Okay. Something like a mask, right? Maybe I should go for a simple one. Like.... uh, Zorro? Or, you know, a bandana across the lower half of my face or something.”

Taylor shook her head slowly. “No way. You wanna look like a bandit from a spaghetti western? No, you don't have to think too hard about this. A dark hoodie, maybe a simple pair of goggles and it's all good.”

Jack frowned deeply and looked above at the sky. Then he exaggeratedly pointed upwards. “A hoodie? With this temperature? Are you trying to kill me?!”

Taylor shrugged her shoulder. “Well, you got a better idea? Besides, we ain't going on no Super hunting yet, you know. By the time you are actually ready to do this, then the gods of weather should be more or less accommodating to our wardrobe needs.”

Jack's frown remained, but he had to agree with Taylor's assessment.

Currently, it was the weekend of the same week the two of them agreed on mutual cooperation. The two of them were in the neck of woods near their suburb, near the half way point between Jack's place and Taylor's. It was not dense enough to be called a proper forest, but still wild and untamed enough to feel alien to a teenager like Jack.

Jack wasn't happy to learn that they lived on the opposite side of the town – Bellview, on the outskirts of the city, so a compromise had to be made when they wanted to meet. And this forest that was the place Taylor suggested on. Apparently, it was at roughly the halfway point between their respective homes.

By being frank with Taylor – meaning, everything about the red souls, including the fact that they were inside of him and that they were the reasons for his quick recovery and improved sense of hearing and such, he was able to hear the complete set of what Taylor could do as well. Give and take, so to speak.

Of course, Jack conveniently forgot to mention the bit about the ancient civilization and the mysterious woman in his dream-like memories. He wasn't sure what to make of those, so until he knew more, he was planning to keep that stuff to himself. Besides, if he mentioned the skimpily dressed woman, he feared that Taylor might see him as a pervert, or at least as a horndog. Neither would be inducive for a good working relationship.

As for Taylor's powers, he hit the jackpot. She did indeed possess the ability to locate a person. Granted, the range of this ability was not that good, and she could only discern who was a Super and who wasn't, so it was not an all-encompassing ability. Still, the fact remained – she could help him find the right Super as long as he or she was within range.

She had been using it more or less to avoid dealing with the walking, talking hassles called Cindy McAlister and her gang. She wasn't entirely successful in this endeavor, but it was better than nothing in her eyes.

Anyways, Jack wasn't really interested in her troubles although he did feign a concern briefly. Their arrangement was simple – she would help him find Falcon and Master Evil while Jack would chase away the rabid pack of dogs otherwise known as Cindy and her goons by utilizing his moniker as a victim of heinous circumstances. Political Correctness FTW, or so Taylor said with a smirk.

As for them meeting in this forest today, though – it was Taylor's decision.

“Why are we here, anyways? What's so special about this forest?”

Jack asked, confused. He turned his head around to see what's what, but as far as he could see, besides being a wooded area, there was nothing remarkable about this place at all. In the distance, he could see the valley where the town of Bellview nested. From their position, slightly elevated on a hillside, he could see the immense expanse of houses and an occasional shopping mall jutting out.

“We're here because you need to find out whether you got what it takes. Also, there was something I am curious about, too.”

Taylor replied with a serious face.

“Takes to do what, exactly? And what are you curious about? Is it about my powers?”

Jack was now genuinely puzzled and turned his attention back on her. When he saw her serious face, he got this inexplicable feeling that something troublesome was coming his way.

“Well, firstly, you say you're going to kill Falcon and Master Evil, right? Well.... here's the thing – can you actually do that? Kill someone?”

“Yeah, sure I can. I mean, how hard can it be? Right?”

Jack said without a single hesitation. But Taylor wasn't convinced.

“Well, we're here to find that out for ourselves. I'll use my power to locate a wild animal or something, and it will be your job to kill it. Let's see if you can do that.”

Jack nodded when he heard that. Her reasoning made sense – a practice run of their teamwork as well as getting him ready for what laid ahead in the future. He also felt confident that when it came to taking away the lives of the others, it would be no problem.

“Okay, so that's that. What about the second thing? The one you're curious about?”

“Oh, that,” Taylor thoughtfully gazed at him. “I was wondering whether you could extract that red soul even from an animal. If it's possible, it's like killing two birds with one stone, right? You get to practice killing and get stronger at the same time. Kinda like an MMORPG.”

Jack's mind shook. What Taylor said left him momentarily speechless. And then, he felt like kicking himself for not thinking up this method in the first place. What a blunder.

If he could get the required red souls from the animals around this forest, then wouldn't that solve his most urgent problem?

He felt the excitement building up. Now he felt totally pumped up for this. Unsure about his ability to take away lives? He saw such a notion as nothing but a joke.

But then, a slight problem reared its ugly head, cooling his enthusiasm somewhat.

“Wait a damn minute here. Hey, just how am I supposed to kill an animal? With my bare hands? You can't be serious.”

Taylor gave him a weird eye. “Of course. You said you got a power boost, right? So, consequently, use your hands and feet and whatever at your disposal to kill. It'll massively help if you could shoot lasers or something, though....”

“What?! Oh, come on. Don't you have a knife or something I can use?” Jack asked with an exasperated look.

“Wha... why would I carry a knife?! Do I look like a thug to you, Mercer? Gee whiz, you're like a baby. Just grab a rock or something.”

“A rock? ….Fine. I will make do.”

Jack hastily looked around; there were lots of rocks and pebbles but none were of the satisfactory sizes. Frowning, he scratched the back of his head.

He had to spend a good few minutes digging around until he found a jagged rock that was as big as a brick. It was unwieldy as hell, but he had no choice in the matter. After swinging it for a couple of times to get used to the weight, Jack felt ready, so he gave Taylor the signal with a nod.

“Let's do this.”

Taylor closed her eyes and concentrated. The world before her consciousness expanded and her mind began to melt into the surrounding area. All color drained out from her view, turning it gray.

In this washed out world, Taylor could see, or sense, movements, their shapes marked out in black emptiness. Small things, big things, medium things, all scurrying about. Their outlines told her basically what she was looking at.

She narrowed her focus and searched for something with a bit of substance, a bit of heft. In other words, something that might pose a challenge.

She used to come to these woods with her father, back when she was much younger. He was a big lover of camping, but because of work could not separate himself too far from his job – so he settled for this forest. Because of this experience, Taylor was fairly well versed in the ecology and layout of this area.

She knew there were quite a few wild animals roaming around here. From wild hares to coyotes, one just had to look hard enough and one would find them.

Her usable range was normally 100 yards if she left it in the “default” mode. Since she didn't need the accuracy but the width, she sacrificed the former for the latter, increasing the range temporarily to well over 250 yards.

The world further lost what little color remaining and became even more grayer than before. A lot of details was lost but as a trade-off, she now could sense more movements on a wider scale.

“There, Southwest, roughly 200 yards out. It's about the size of a dog,” said Taylor as she pointed towards the target. “Let's get cracking.”

~

They had to extra careful when approaching the so-called game. In part, because they didn't want to spook the animal and let it run away, but also, mostly because they didn't know how to stalk a prey either.

It was pretty comical in its ineptitude, really. The two of them stumbled about on the uneven terrain, trying to navigate the not-so-dense woods. Taylor fared better compared to Jack who was struggling to even breath properly.

Taylor mocked him for going out of breath so easily, telling him to exercise more.

But secretly, Taylor was getting worried. The presence seemed to have noticed them, but instead of running away, it was lingering in the same spot for a while. This was contrary to what she knew. Even as she made a light joke, she hoped for nothing bad to happen.

“From here on, do not make a sound,” warned Taylor as she crouched low.

Jack followed suit and carefully threaded his way forward, or at least he tried to.

Past some bushes, the two of them saw the source of the movement – it was a coyote. It was busy picking on something on the ground. Upon a closer inspection, it was a carcass of some poor critter. No wonder the canine was reluctant to vacate the area and abandon its meal like that.

The blood and splattered gore were on full display. There was an acrid smell wafting in the air, too. Instantly, Jack froze on the spot, feeling the sense of disgust and bile rise up in his throat.

The coyote raised its blood-soaked head and stared back at the duo. The animal bared its fangs and aggressively growled – warning the two humans to stay away from it and its meal.

Taylor glanced at Jack's face and was rewarded with a look of strange, twisted emotions that was, honestly speaking, scared her silly. She didn't know that a human being was capable of making an expression like that.

However, there was no fear-induced trembling or such. He was rigid like a statue, his eyes glued to the creature.

“Jack, you okay?”

Taylor slowly tugged at the short sleeve of his T-shirt. He nodded back, but his focus still remained with the coyote up front. That was all thanks to a very thin, nearly indiscernible fog of red slowly rising from the fresh carcass.

Jack felt the roof of his mouth go dry. He felt his heart racing. He felt the rush of adrenaline crashing into his veins like a tidal wave of a tsunami.

“Hey, don't just stand there, talk to me,” Taylor quietly urged him to speak. His weird face was getting weirder by the second and it was creeping her out.

“Oh, sorry. You were right, Taylor. Looks like I can acquire the red souls by killing the wildlife.” Jack took a deep breath and spoke softly. “I can see the red mist coming off the carcass.”

Taylor squinted her eyes but there was nothing like that to see. Not even her ability could pick up on any anomaly. Still, she decided to take his words for it.

“Okay, so that works. Now, what are we going to do about the coyote?”

She asked, curious.

“Well.... I guess....”

Jack mulled his options. The coyote was staring at him with venom and a bit of unease in its eyes. It started slowly pacing near the carcass as if waiting for the two humans to act.

Jack glanced at the rock in his hands. It was brick-sized. He could throw it, but could he actually hit the animal with it? Even with his limbs enhanced, it was only by a negligible amount. No way in hell he could kill the coyote in one go.

“If you don't do something, it's going to run away,” said Taylor from his side.

“I know,” replied Jack, feeling slightly helpless and irritated.

He looked at his own hands and clenched it a bit. He felt strength flowing in it. Not literal strength, no, but something a bit more like spiritual; something akin to a metaphorical sense of strength, something that was more than physical in nature.

He returned his gazes back at the skittish coyote. He concentrated on it, on its patterns, the way it tensed and flitted about. Gradually, he began to see the potential patterns in its movement from the intense observation.

Even before noticing it, his own body stepped forward. One step, two steps; he slowly approached the animal. It bared its fangs and continued to growl threateningly.

When he got near enough, the coyote barked sharply and pounced at him. It must have had enough of this human getting closer and disturbing its meal time.

Jack clearly discerned its trajectory. He knew the direction its sharp maw would land. He even could tell the arc of its claws brushing past his chest. So, without further ado, he tilted his body out of the way.

Of course, nothing was that simple. Even if his senses were enhanced, it did not mean that his body could keep up.

Jack was shocked at how slow his torso moved. It was slower than the approaching coyote by far. At this rate, he'd get hit for sure. Reflexively, he raised his right arm and punched out.

His fist splendidly connected with the animal on the side of its head. There was a cracking noise – a soft then hard sensation transmitting through his skin.

The coyote made a loud whimper as he crashed into the ground and bounced on it a couple of times before coming to a dead stop.

Seeing this, even Taylor was left speechless. This eruption of violence was so sudden, and its end was just as so. She didn't even have time to react.

Jack too was dazed at his own actions. How the hell did I do that?!

Not even once in his life did he learn how to throw a solid right hook. He never even went to a Karate gym before. Yet, he clean punched the poor coyote and now it was out for the count. Understandably, he was confused.

It's like.... I already knew how to.... uh, kick and punch. Is that even possible?! What the hell is going on with me? Did absorbing those red souls somehow made me into an expert fighter??

“It's not dead, so don't relax just yet.”

Taylor lightly tapped him on the shoulder, breaking Jack's chain of thoughts. He quickly looked over at the animal, and indeed, it was still alive.

The coyote slowly got up on its feet, but even he could tell it was totally dazed by the knockout punch. Jack felt he did some serious damage to it but apparently, it wasn't quite enough to finish the job.

“So, what are you going to do?” Taylor asked in a somber tone. There was a certain strange emotion mixed in her voice which he noticed.

His mind was still racing hard from the experience of hitting the animal. But oddly, it also felt quite good, this surge of adrenaline. It was different from anything and everything he had encountered in his life so far.

“I'm going to finish it,” Jack nodded and began to approach the whimpering, tottering coyote.

He gripped the rock tightly and stood before the shaking canine. Its eyes were swimming and he saw there was fresh blood coming from its ear, on the side where he struck it. It was on the proverbial ropes, ready to throw in the towels. Jack even felt fear in its weak eyes.

Suffice to say, he felt guilt. He found himself questioning the reasons for him to kill this poor thing.

His conviction wavered. He began second guessing himself. Was he doing the right thing? Was all this truly necessary? Did he make the right choice?

No.

Jack gritted his teeth as his eyes saw the sliver of red mist drifting out of the carcass of the unknown animal. He knew this road he was on had to be trodden. It was a necessary evil.

Jack's face darkened. He hardened his mind and raised the rock. And then, he smashed the head of the coyote.

The splitting sensation of something soft was transmitted to his brain via his hand, his arm, his shoulder, and then his neck. That sensation instantly put the brakes on his pumping adrenaline.

It was truly, utterly, horribly, and incredibly unpleasant. It nearly made him puke on the spot.

Even Taylor held her breath. The sound was a lot louder and more horrible than she expected. And the follow-up whining from the dying coyote only made it worse.

“Holy cow,” she muttered meekly under her nearly strangled breath. “It's still not dead yet....”

Jack was startled by her words. And when he looked down at his handiwork, indeed the coyote was still twitching weakly on the ground. A part of its head was pummeled, revealing the pink flesh underneath and some brain matter as well.

Seeing the gore, Jack couldn't hold back and puked. It was too sudden a reaction for him to stop. He doubled over and emptied the contents in his stomach in a blink of an eye.

Taylor backed away just in time to avoid getting the splatter damage on her clothes but her face turned deathly pale as well. She was also very, very close to the tipping point but by some kind of miracle, didn't manage to vomit. Still, the bitter and terrible taste rose up in her mouth, making her realize that maybe, today wasn't such a good idea after all.

After that, there was total silence. Well, discounting the fact that the coyote was still whining weakly on the ground, but that didn't count. The two teens looked at each other uneasily, urging one another silently to do.... something. Anything would do at this point.

Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and bitterly chuckled. He knew that this was a mess, and he was responsible for it. Too late for regrets, though.

Taking in another deep breath to clear his stinking mouth, Jack hardened his mind again and slammed the bloodied rock hard down on the coyote's head.

~

Min-jung scanned the area before carefully parking her car in the dark and drab underground parking lot.

Every other car here was black in color, leading her to believe that every single one of the government's employees, or in this case, the Department of Defense's, lacked imagination when it came to ticking the car's optional extra check boxes.

She affixed the “Visitor” credentials on the front, made sure it was visible and exited the car. She was utterly alone in the lot, nary a sound nor echo of one serving to emphasize the point.

There was a row of elevators available for the visitors, but she didn't bother with any one of them, instead opting for one that was located at the very end. She raised her right hand which had a slim, black ring in the middle finger. She swiped that ring over a small touchscreen.

This activated the elevator door.

Her floor was deep underground, 50 floors down.

The floor was bustling with activities. Soldiers, decked out in full riot gear, and scientists, with their white garbs, were busily moving to and fro. The trained men and women held the solemn looks, while the eggheads, concern, confusion, and excitement.

Min-jung was stunned at this scene; it had been a good few years since her last visit here, but even then, she could not remember the day when it was this hectic. Clearly, something big was afoot.

“Welcome, Doctor Mercer. He's waiting for you.”

A smartly dressed female soldier greeted Min-jung as she left the elevator dazed. The woman was a stunner – high cheek bones, slant, cat-like crystal blue eyes, pale golden hair pulled tight and hidden under a dark green beret. She held a black tablet close to her voluminous chest. The dark green skirt, normally a type of clothing that would hide a woman's figure, instead here enhancing hers like a charm. A normal man, or even a woman, would have gone head over heels in adulation if this soldier winked flirtatiously once. The only problem was, this woman had a gaze so cold and withering, it could probably freeze sea water with one snort.

“Major Podolsky. Been a while. You haven't changed a bit, looks wise. Please, lead the way.”

Min-jung and Major Podolsky, the blond bombshell, shared a cultured nod. And as the two women began walking, Min-jung had to satisfy her curiosity.

“Tell me, Major. What is going on here? Something big happened?”

Major Podolsky simply replied. “He will brief you on the current situation, doctor.”

Min-jung briefly pouted in annoyance at the curt reply. Incidentally, the two of them never had a good relationship. Not bad enough for a full-on catfight, but neither good enough to share a passing joke and a polite chuckle together. She had already given up on figuring out why this was so.

Past the rushing soldiers and scientists, she ran into people she knew and used to work with, and shared light greetings with them. They then passed a cordon of well-armed soldiers acting as guards, and another group of male and female soldiers who were weaponless but busy doing some kind of paperwork on their individual desks. The biggest desk placed near the end was empty – but Min-jung knew very well that one belonged to Major next to her.

Right after that, the two arrived at a large, black oak doorway. Podolsky knocked on it three times before opening it authoritatively.

Inside, Min-jung was greeted by a dark but spacious office space.

There was a hardened military man in his early sixties, sitting behind the huge desk, chewing on a cigar and carrying a scowl fierce enough to terrify even the blind children.

And opposite him, an old man in his late eighties, supporting himself on an archaic wooden cane.

“Professor!! This is a surprise. How have you been?”

Min-jung smiled brightly as she gently grasped the hand of the old man.

“Hello, Doctor Kim. Oh, my apologies. It's Mercer now, yes? It's been a long while, Doctor.”

Min-jung and the Professor shared a hug before parting slightly. They shared more polite words before a throat clearing noise reminded them of where they were.

Min-jung then turned her attention back to the military man and lightly nodded her head.

“General Williams. Good to see you again, sir. I see you are rather busy today for some reason.”

“Doctor. Thank you for coming in at such a short notice. Major, please brief the Professor Evans and Doctor Mercer of the development.”

Min-jung couldn't help but look at Podolsky with a weird eye. In the end, it fell to the good Major to explain the current situation. If she did so from the very beginning, it might have helped her organize her thoughts earlier, but no – the cold beauty just had to drag things out for no good reason.

“Yes, General. At 0730 Zulu, The subjects G-9, G-10 and G-11 escaped from the Fort McGinley. Their current positions are unknown but it is estimated by the last known sightings that they are headed here.”

Min-jung stiffened almost immediately upon hearing this. “You called me in for this?! I am not a combatant, General. How will I be able to help you in this situation?!”

“Relax, Doctor. You weren't called here because of the breakout. Professor, please inform the skittish Doctor of the breakthrough your team has made.” General Williams flicked the burning end of his cigar on the marble ashtray casually and deposited the ash in a practiced manner.

“Ahem, yes. Excuse me. The algorithm finally cracked the previously indecipherable parts of the arcane hieroglyphs found in the tomb. And the results, in my opinion, warrants a serious relook at the Project Dead Kings. Especially, at the overall direction this project needs to take.”

Min-jung slowly sat down on one of the unoccupied seats. And steadied her breath. “Oh? So the final bits of mystery has been solved, after all these years? What did the glyphs say?”

Professor Evans had a rueful smile as he sighed. “Well.... it speaks of a threat heading our way. And that we might have been preparing to fight against a wrong enemy all this time.”

A new chapter. Another crazy weekend - and not in a good way, either. How long will my misery continue?! Bah.

Setra said: ↑

Actually, I quite like the unedited version of chapter 1. With no dialogue, it captured the feeling of Jack's solitude (or loneliness?) being the only survivor.
Click to expand...

Hmm. That's an interesting take. I haven't thought of it that way. Thank you for your input.

Edit: June 2nd

Chapter 5: The Practice

“A mask. You will need a mask.”

Taylor said with a deadpan expression.

“Huh? Why do I need a mask for?”

Jack was slightly puzzled by her suggestion and couldn't help but ask.

“Simple. A secret identity, Jack. It's for keeping your identity secret from your enemies and the like. I mean, really – how many Supers you know walk around bare faced? Exactly. Even Vanguard wears that gaudy wrestling mask of his.”

A secret identity, eh? Jack nodded in contemplation. It was indeed true that most villains and heroes wore some type of facial wear, whether for style or safety. But Jack understood the need for keeping his identity to himself in his pursuit of vengeance.

For one, he was going after two targets. If he missed one, then if he was not careful, his family might be in danger of retaliation. That wouldn't do. Not at all.

“Okay. Something like a mask, huh? Maybe I should go for a simple one. Like.... uh, Zorro? Or, you know, a bandana across the lower half of my face or something.”

Taylor shook her head slowly. “No way. You wanna look like a bandit from a spaghetti western? No, you don't have to think too hard about this. A dark hoodie, maybe a simple pair of goggles and it's all good.”

Jack frowned deeply and looked above at the sky. Then he exaggeratedly pointed upwards. “A hoodie? In this heat? Are you trying to kill me?!”

Taylor shrugged her shoulders as if she was the one being troubled with this, not him. “Well, you got a better idea? Besides, we ain't going on no Super hunting yet, you know. By the time you are actually ready to do this, then the gods of weather should be more or less accommodating to your wardrobe needs.”

Jack's frown remained, but he reluctantly agreed with Taylor's assessment.

Currently, it was the Saturday of the same week the two of them agreed on the pact of mutual cooperation. Jack had to deflect Cindy and her bullying attempts aimed at Taylor for the duration of the week, and it sure as hell was tiring. To think that he had to repeat this in the coming weeks... Quite frankly, he couldn't understand why that queen bee had it out for Taylor at all. It was like an obsession. An exceedingly daft one at that.

But anyways. Right now, it was time to worry about something else. Like, the untold reasons why he had to come here. And “here” was a patch of untamed nature near their suburb. It was not dense enough to be called a proper forest, but still wild and untamed enough to feel alien to a teenager like Jack.

It conspired that they lived on the opposite side of the town, Bellview, located on the outskirts of the city. That was an unhappy coincidence. A compromise had to be reached if and when they wanted to meet up. This forest was the place Taylor suggested; apparently, it was at roughly the halfway point between their respective homes.

By being frank with Taylor – meaning, everything about the red souls, including the fact that they were inside of him and that they were the reasons for his quick recovery and improved sense of hearing and such, he was able to hear the complete set of what Taylor could do as well. Give and take, so to speak.

Of course, Jack conveniently forgot to mention the bit about the ancient civilization and the mysterious woman in his dream-like memories. He wasn't sure what to make of those yet, so until he knew more, he was planning to keep that stuff to himself. Besides, if he mentioned the skimpily dressed woman, he feared that Taylor might see him as a pervert, or at least as a horndog. Neither would be all that conducive towards a good working relationship.

As for Taylor's powers, he had hit the jackpot. She did indeed possess the ability to locate a person. Granted, the overall range of this ability was not that good, and she could only discern who was a Super and who wasn't by the "fluctuations of power," or so she claimed. She could find anyone within range, of course. That was a given. But it still had its limitations, but the fact was, she could help him find the right pair of Supers as long as they were in the range of her scope.

She had been using it more or less to avoid dealing with the walking, talking hassles AKA Cindy McAlister and her gang. She wasn't entirely successful in this endeavor, but it was better than nothing in her eyes.

Anyways, Jack wasn't really interested in her troubles although he did feign a concern ever so briefly. Their arrangement was simple enough on paper – she would help him find Falcon and Master Evil while Jack would chase away the rabid pack of dogs otherwise known as Cindy and her goons by utilizing his moniker as a victim of heinous circumstances. Political Correctness FTW, or so Taylor said with a smirk.

As for them meeting in this forest today, though – it was Taylor's decision. She called the meeting for some reason. Jack had no idea what she was thinking of, asking him to come here. If this trip was a waste of time, then he'd be royally pissed, since he had to ride his bicycle all the way from his house. That wasn't much fun under this blazing sun even with his red soul-enhanced physique.

“Why are we here, anyway? What's so special about this forest?”

Jack asked, confused. He looked around to see what's what, but as far as his eyes could see, besides being a wooded area, there was nothing remarkable about this place at all. In the distance, he could see the valley where the town of Bellview nested. From their position, slightly elevated on a hillside, he could see the immense expanse of houses and an occasional shopping mall jutting out in between. Sunlight reflected off from the distant moving cars, and Jack thought they kinda looked like the brightly colored M&M's that had grown legs, busy trying to escape the mouths of naughty kids.

“We're here because you need to find out whether you got what it takes. Also, there was something I am curious about, too.”

Taylor replied with a serious face.

“Takes to do what, exactly? And what are you curious about? Is it about my powers?”

Jack was now genuinely puzzled and turned his attention back on her. When he saw her serious face, he got this inexplicable feeling that something troublesome was coming his way.

“Well, firstly, you say you're going to kill Falcon and Master Evil, right? Well.... here's the thing – can you actually do that? Kill someone?”

“Yeah, sure I can. I mean, how hard can it be? Right?”

Jack was pretty sure of himself and spoke without a single shred of hesitation. But obviously, Taylor wasn't so easily convinced.

“Well, we're here to find that out for ourselves. I'll use my power to locate a wild animal or something, and it will be your job to kill it. Let's see if you can do that.”

Jack nodded when he heard that. Her reasoning made sense – a practice run of their teamwork as well as getting him ready for what laid ahead in the future. He also felt confident that when it came to taking away the lives of the others, it wouldn't be a problem at all.

“Okay, so that's that. What about the second thing? The one you're curious about?”

“Oh, that,” Taylor thoughtfully gazed at him. “I was wondering whether you could extract that red soul even from an animal. If it's possible, it's like killing two birds with one stone, right? You get to practice killing and get stronger at the same time. Kinda like an MMORPG.”

Jack's mind shook. What Taylor said left him momentarily speechless. And then, he felt like kicking himself for not thinking up this method in the first place. What a blunder.

If he could get the required red souls from the animals around this forest, then wouldn't that solve his most urgent problem?

He felt the excitement building up. Now he felt totally pumped up for this. Unsure about his ability to take away lives? He saw such a notion as nothing but a joke. He witnessed plenty of deaths. He was surrounded by it. He was baptized in the fumes of blood, both in reality and within the memory-dream world of fantasy. Oh, he was more than equipped to handle death, alright.

But then, a slight problem reared its ugly head, cooling his enthusiasm somewhat.

“Wait a damn minute here. Hey, just how am I supposed to kill an animal? With my bare hands? You can't be serious.”

Taylor gave him a weird eye. “Of course. You said you got a power boost, right? So, consequently, use your hands and feet and whatever at your disposal to kill. It'll massively help if you could shoot lasers or something, though....”

“What?! Oh, come on. Don't you have a knife or something I can use?” Jack asked with an exasperated look.

“Wha... why would I carry a knife?! Do I look like a thug to you, Mercer? Gee whiz, you're like a baby. Just grab a rock or something.”

“A rock? ….Fine. I will make do.”

Jack hastily looked around; there were lots of rocks and pebbles but none were of the satisfactory sizes. Frowning, he scratched the back of his head.

He had to spend a good few minutes digging around until he found a jagged rock that was as big as a brick. It was unwieldy as hell, but a beggar couldn't be picky about where his next meal came from. He also felt like a caveman, holding a rock as a weapon. After swinging it for a couple of times to get used to the weight, Jack felt more or less ready, so he gave Taylor the signal with a nod.

“Let's do this.”

Taylor closed her eyes and concentrated. The world before her consciousness expanded and her mind began to melt into the surrounding area. All color drained out from her view, turning it gray.

In this washed out world, Taylor could see, or sense, movements, their shapes marked out in black emptiness. Small things, big things, medium things, all scurrying about. Their outlines allowed her figure out what she was looking at.

She narrowed her focus and searched for something with a bit of substance, a bit of heft. In other words, something that might pose a challenge.

She used to come to these woods with her father, back when she was much younger. He was a big lover of camping, but because of work could not separate himself too far from his job – so he settled for this forest. Because of this experience, Taylor was fairly well versed in the ecology and layout of this area.

She knew there were quite a few wild animals roaming around here. From wild hares to coyotes, one just had to look hard enough and one would find them.

Her usable range was normally 100 yards if she left it in the “default” mode. Since she didn't need the accuracy but the width, she sacrificed the former for the latter, increasing the range temporarily to well over 250 yards.

The world further lost what little color there was remaining and became far, far grayer compared to before. A lot of details was lost but as a trade-off, she now could sense more movements on a wider scale.

“There, Southwest, roughly 200 yards out. It's about the size of a dog,” said Taylor as she pointed towards the target. “Let's get cracking.”

~

They had to extra careful when approaching the so-called game. In part, because they didn't want to spook the animal and lose it, but mostly because they didn't know how to stalk a prey effectively either. They were not cut out to be a natural-born hunter, it seemed.

It was pretty comical in its ineptitude, really. The two of them stumbled about on the uneven terrain, trying to navigate the not-so-dense woods. Taylor fared far better compared to Jack who was struggling to even breath properly. Of course, he was embarrassed about his own lack of physical prowess, and swore to make the right enhancements as soon as he got the chance.

Taylor mocked him for going out of breath so easily, telling him to exercise more.

But secretly, Taylor was getting worried. The presence seemed to have noticed them, but instead of running away, it was lingering in the same spot for a while. This was contrary to what she knew. Even as she made the light joke, she hoped for nothing bad to happen.

“From here on, do not make a sound,” warned Taylor as she crouched low.

Jack followed suit and carefully threaded his way forward, or at least he tried to.

Past some bushes, the two of them saw the source of the movement – it was a coyote. It was busy picking on something on the ground. Upon a closer inspection, it was a carcass of some poor critter. No wonder the canine was reluctant to vacate the area and abandon its meal like that.

The blood and splattered gore were on full display. There was an acrid smell wafting in the air, too. Instantly, Jack froze on the spot before recovering from the shock, the sense of disgust and bile rising and falling rapidly in his throat.

The coyote raised its blood-soaked head and stared back at the duo. The animal bared its fangs and aggressively growled – warning the two humans to stay away from it and its meal.

Taylor glanced at Jack's face and was rewarded with a look of strange, twisted emotions that was, honestly speaking, scared her silly. She didn't know that a human being was capable of making an expression like that.

However, there was no fear-induced trembling or such. He was rigid like a statue, his eyes glued to the creature.

“Jack, you okay?”

Taylor slowly tugged at the short sleeve of his T-shirt. He nodded back, but his focus still remained with the coyote up front. That was all thanks to a very thin, nearly indiscernible fog of red slowly rising from the fresh carcass.

Jack felt the roof of his mouth go dry. He felt his heart racing. He felt the rush of adrenaline crashing into his veins like a tidal wave of a tsunami.

“Hey, don't just stand there, talk to me,” Taylor quietly urged him to speak. His weird face was getting weirder by the second and it was creeping her out.

“Oh, sorry. You were right, Taylor. Looks like I can acquire the red souls by killing the wildlife.” Jack took a deep breath and spoke softly. “I can see the red mist coming off the carcass.”

Taylor squinted her eyes but she couldn't see anything like a mist rising up from the dead critter. Not even her ability could pick up on any anomaly. She was skeptical, but as there was no other choice anyway, she decided to take his words for it.

“Okay, so that works. Now, what are you going to do about the coyote?”

She asked, curious.

“Well.... I guess....”

Jack mulled his options. The coyote was staring at him with venom and a bit of unease in its eyes. It started slowly pacing near the carcass as if waiting for the two humans to act.

Jack glanced at the rock in his hands. It was brick-sized. He could throw it, but could he actually hit the animal with it? Even with his limbs enhanced, it was only by a negligible amount. No way in hell he could kill the coyote in one go.

“If you don't do something, it's going to run away,” said Taylor from his side.

“I know,” replied Jack, feeling slightly helpless and irritated.

He looked at his own hands and clenched it a bit. He felt strength flowing in it. Not literal strength, no, but something a bit more like spiritual; something akin to a metaphorical sense of strength, something that was more than physical in nature.

He returned his gazes back at the skittish coyote. He concentrated on it, on its patterns, the way it tensed its muscles and flitted about on its feet. Gradually, he began to see the potential patterns in its movement from the intense observation.

Even before noticing it, his own body stepped forward. One step, two steps; he slowly approached the animal. It bared its fangs and continued to growl threateningly at him.

When he got near enough, the coyote barked sharply and pounced at him. It must have had enough of this human getting closer and disturbing its meal time.

Jack clearly discerned its trajectory. He knew the exact direction its sharp, opened and drooling maw would take. He could even accurately tell the arc of its claws brushing past his chest. So, without further ado, he tilted his body out of the way.

Of course, nothing was that simple. Even if his senses were enhanced, it did not mean that his body could keep up.

Jack was shocked at how slow his torso moved. It was slower than the approaching coyote by far. At this rate, he'd get hit for sure. Reflexively, he raised his right arm and punched out.

His fist splendidly connected with the animal on the side of its head. There was a cracking noise – a soft then hard sensation transmitting through his skin.

The coyote made a loud whimper as it crashed into the ground and bounced around a couple of times before coming to a dead stop.

Seeing this, even Taylor was left speechless. This eruption of violence was so sudden, and its end was just as so. She didn't even have time to react.

Jack too was dazed at his own actions. How the hell did I do that?!

Not even once in his life did he learn how to throw a solid right hook. He never even went to a Karate dojo before. Yet, he clean punched the poor coyote and now it was out for the count. Understandably, he was seriously confused at his sudden proficiency at Kung Fu.

It's like.... I already knew how to.... uh, kick and punch. Is that even possible?! What the hell is going on with me? Did absorbing those red souls somehow changed me into an expert fighter??

“It's not dead, so don't relax just yet.”

Taylor lightly tapped him on the shoulder, breaking Jack's chain of thoughts. He quickly looked over at the animal, and indeed, it was still alive.

The coyote slowly got up on its feet, but even he could tell it was totally dazed by the knockout punch. Jack felt he did some serious damage to it but apparently, it wasn't quite enough to finish the job.

“So, what are you going to do?” Taylor asked in a somber tone. There was a certain strange emotion mixed in her voice which he vaguely noticed.

His mind was still racing hard from the experience of hitting the animal. But oddly, it also felt quite good, this surge of adrenaline. It was different from anything and everything he had encountered in his life so far.

“I'm going to finish it,” Jack nodded and began to approach the whimpering, tottering coyote.

He gripped the rock tightly and stood before the shaking canine. Its eyes were swimming and he saw there was fresh blood coming from its ear, on the side where he struck it. It was on the proverbial ropes, ready to throw in the towels. Jack even felt fear in its weak eyes.

Suffice to say, he felt pang of guilt invade his conscience. He found himself questioning the reasons for him to kill this poor thing.

His conviction wavered. He began second guessing himself. Was he doing the right thing? Was all this truly necessary? Did he make the right choice?

No.

Jack gritted his teeth as his eyes saw the sliver of red mist drifting out of the carcass of the unknown animal. He knew this road he was on had to be trodden. It was a necessary evil.

Jack's face darkened. He hardened his mind and raised the rock. And then, he smashed the head of the coyote.

The splitting sensation of something soft was transmitted to his brain via his hand, his arm, his shoulder, and then his neck. That sensation instantly put the brakes on his pumping adrenaline.

It was truly, utterly, horribly, and incredibly unpleasant. It nearly made him puke on the spot.

Even Taylor held her breath. The sound of the rock connecting with the flesh was a lot louder and more horrible than she expected. And the follow-up whining from the dying coyote only made it worse.

“Holy cow,” she muttered meekly under her nearly strangled breath. “It's still not dead yet....”

Jack was startled by her words. And when he looked down at his handiwork, indeed the coyote was still twitching weakly on the ground. A part of its head was pummeled, revealing the pink flesh underneath and some brain matter as well.

Seeing the gore, Jack couldn't hold back and puked. It was too sudden a reaction for him to stop. He doubled over and emptied the contents in his stomach in a blink of an eye.

Taylor backed away just in time to avoid getting the splatter damage on her clothes but her face turned deathly pale as well. She was also very, very close to the tipping point but by some kind of miracle, didn't manage to vomit. Still, the bitter and terrible taste rose up in her mouth, making her realize that maybe, today wasn't such a good idea after all.

After that, there was total silence. Well, discounting the fact that the coyote was still whining weakly on the ground, but that didn't count. The two teens looked at each other uneasily, urging one another silently to do.... something. Anything would do at this point.

Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and bitterly chuckled. He knew that this was an unsightly mess, and he was directly responsible for it. All of it. Too late for regrets, though.

Taking in another deep breath to clear his stinking mouth, Jack hardened his mind again and slammed the bloodied rock hard down on the coyote's head.

~

Min-jung scanned the area before carefully parking her car in the dark and drab underground parking lot.

Almost every car present here was black in color, leading her to believe that every single one of the Federal Government's employees, or in this case, the Department of Defense's, lacked imagination when it came to ticking the car's optional paint choices check boxes.

She affixed the “Visitor” credentials on the front, made sure it was visible and exited the black SUV. She was utterly alone in the lot, nary a sound nor echo of one serving to emphasize the point.

There was a row of elevators available for the visitors, but she didn't bother with any one of them, instead opting for one that was located at the very end. She raised her right hand which had a slim, black ring in the middle finger. She swiped that ring over a small touchscreen.

This activated the elevator door.

Her floor was deep underground, 20 floors down.

And when the doors slid open, Min-jung was greeted by the scene of chaotic disorganization. The floor was bustling with activities. Soldiers, decked out in full riot gear, and scientists, with their white garbs, were busily moving to and fro. The trained men and women held the solemn looks, while the eggheads, concern, confusion, and excitement.

Min-jung was stunned at this scene; it had been a good few years since her last visit here, but even then, she could not remember the day when it was this hectic. Clearly, something big was afoot. She mused that maybe it was a bad day to heed the call of her former colleagues, as urgent as it sounded. Well, even though she played a pivotal role in setting this project on the present course, she was a civilian now and under the employment of a private institution. Surely, they wouldn't ask her to handle something troublesome. But if they did, then she'd ask for a big cheque with as many zeroes on it as possible.

“Welcome, Doctor Mercer. He's waiting for you.”

A smartly dressed female soldier greeted Min-jung as she left the elevator. The woman was a stunner – high cheek bones, slant, cat-like crystal blue eyes, pale golden hair pulled tight and hidden under a dark green beret. She held a black tablet close to her voluminous chest. The dark green skirt, normally a type of clothing that would hide a woman's figure, instead here enhancing hers like a charm. A normal man, or even a woman, would have gone head over heels in adulation if this soldier winked flirtatiously just once. The only problem was, this woman had a gaze so cold and withering, it could probably freeze sea water with one well-placed sneer.

“Major Podolsky. Been a while. You haven't changed a bit, looks wise. Please, lead the way.”

Min-jung and Major Podolsky, the blond bombshell, shared a cultured nod. And as the two women began walking, Min-jung looked at the unfolding chaos around them and decided to satisfy her growing curiosity.

“Tell me, Major. What is going on here? Something big happened?”

Major Podolsky simply replied. “He will brief you on the current situation, doctor.”

Min-jung briefly pouted in annoyance at the curt reply. Incidentally, the two of them never had a good relationship. Not bad enough for a full-on catfight, but neither good enough to share a passing joke and a polite chuckle together. She had already given up on figuring out why this was so.

Past the rushing soldiers and scientists, she ran into people she knew and used to work with, and shared light greetings with them. They then passed multiple cordons of well-armed soldiers acting as guards set up in the hallways, and another group of male and female soldiers in a spacious office floor who were weaponless but busy doing some kind of paperwork on their individual desks. The biggest desk placed near the end was empty – but Min-jung knew very well that one belonged to Major next to her.

Right after that, the two arrived at a large, black oak doorway. Podolsky knocked on it three times before opening it authoritatively.

Inside, a lowly-lit, smoky and spacious office, a hardened military man in his sixties, sitting behind the huge desk, chewing on a cigar and carrying a scowl fierce enough to terrify even the blind children. And to his opposite, an old man in his late eighties, supporting himself on an archaic wooden cane.

“Professor!! This is a nice surprise. How have you been?”

Min-jung smiled brightly as she gently grasped the hand of the old man.

“Hello, Doctor Kim. Oh, my apologies. It has changed to a Mercer a long time ago, yes? Haha, I am getting on in years, it seems. Regardless, it's been a long while, Doctor.”

Min-jung and the Professor shared a hug before parting slightly. They shared more polite words before a throat clearing noise from the scowling military man reminded them of where they were.

Min-jung then turned her attention to the military man and lightly nodded her head.

“General Williams. Good to see you again, sir. I see you are rather busy today for some reason.”

“Doctor. Thank you for coming in at such a short notice. Major, please brief the Professor Evans and Doctor Mercer of the development.”

Min-jung couldn't help but look at Podolsky with a weird eye. In the end, it fell to the good Major to explain the current situation. If she did so from the very beginning, it might have helped her organize her thoughts earlier, but no – the cold beauty just had to drag things out for no good reason. Was it done out of spite? Min-jung couldn't explain this irrational behavior at all.

“Yes, General. At 0730 Zulu, The subjects G-9, G-10 and G-11 escaped from the Fort McGinley Training Facility. Their current positions are unknown but it is estimated by the last known sightings that they are headed here.”

Min-jung stiffened almost immediately upon hearing this. “You called me in for this?! I am not a combatant, General. How will I be able to help you in this situation?!”

“Relax, Doctor. You weren't called here originally because of the breakout. But if it comes to that, don't worry, we will provide you with adequate protection. Professor, please inform the skittish Doctor here of the breakthrough your team has made recently.”

General Williams flicked the burning end of his cigar casually on the marble ashtray and deposited the ash in a practiced manner.

“Ahem, yes. Excuse me. The algorithm finally cracked the previously indecipherable parts of the arcane cuneiforms found in the tomb. And the results, in my opinion, warrants a serious relook at the Project Dead Kings. Especially, at the overall direction this project needs to take.”

Min-jung slowly sat down on one of the unoccupied seats. And steadied her breath. “Oh? So the final bits of mystery has been solved, after all these years? What did the symbols say?”

Professor Evans had a rueful smile as he sighed. “Well.... it speaks of a threat heading our way. And that we might have been preparing to fight against a wrong enemy all this time.”

Another minor change, here and there.

A_Passing_Wanderer · Jun 2, 2017

Chapter 6

The words spoken by the old Professor Evans left the occupants of the office in a state of deep contemplation. No one moved to speak first, although it was clear, with the exception of cold Major Podolsky, both Min-jung and Williams had things to ask.

Seeing this, Evans sighed deeply as if it was difficult for him, and slowly stood up from the seat. Carefully, he approached General's desk, reaching out to a black USB docking station on top. It was here that the old academic placed his own flash drive on one of the unused slots.

The old professor then asked Major Podolsky to open the documents stored on it. As that task was under way, Min-jung finally thought of a topic to break the ice and inquired the group.

“Have you contacted other stakeholders? This is a big news.”

General Williams nodded as he took a long puff of his cigar. “Major has sent the missives. I'm waiting for them to get back to us ASAP - The President, Secretary of the State, the members of the Congressional oversight committee – all of them. For now, we know as much as you, Doctor. Until the good professor clues us in.”

“It's ready,” said Podolsky.

A projector shone from the ceiling and cast a bright light on the wall to the right of the General's desk. With a remote, Podolsky then killed the lights in the office, making the projection on the wall visible.

Evans cleared his throat and began as the images flashed on the wall.

“Bring up the file named PDK-790211-NW35006r. We'll start from there.”

Podolsky nodded and clicked the corresponding file. Soon, a photograph was superimposed on the wall. The image was dimly lit but its subject of attention was clearly shown – a light-brown stone wall full of ancient but vivid hieroglyphs. On the bottom right corner, there was a time stamp that said “1979-02-11.”

“You are all familiar with this image, I assume,” said Evans. “If not, a quick reminder – this part of the tomb is believed to contain a record, an abridged description, of a cataclysmic war fought by what we now know as the first recognized Supers, that took place over ten thousand years ago.”

Evans approached the wall and by using his own walking stick, he began to point each one of the mysterious symbols slowly while explaining what they meant.

“In the great plains of Sartha, flanked by the two great and mighty rivers, two great armies of warriors blessed by the heavens engaged in a bloody conflict that lasted ten generations. The land was ripped asunder, blood thickened the sand, and the sky was dyed black from the fumes of burned world below....”

Professor Evans took great pains to accurately read the hieroglyphs, top to bottom. The photographs changed a couple of times, each depicting the different parts of the tomb, but still a continuation from the previous image.

“....But the war had to end, not because of the heavenly warriors coming to form a truce but a new threat appeared to destroy the very existence of mankind. This common enemy of the world is thus shall be named The Lord of Darkness.”

Finally, he reached the photo he wanted to show to the rest of the audience.

“It's here, at the Northwest corner of the tomb that the translation was stuck for the last three decades. Partly because, the known symbols are interspersed with runes which did not match with what we know, but also their arrangement and the placement were strange as well.”

Others nodded, although impatience was creeping in on the face of General Williams. “Please get on with the explanations, Professor. You know we might have guests later on. I need to extend my full attention there very soon.”

Evans chuckled apologetically. “Oh, my. It's been too long since this old man had an opportunity to prattle on. Do forgive me, General. Right, from here onwards, the difficulty of translation skyrockets. Many algorithms were used, many eminent experts of their respective fields were consulted but to no avail.

But the discovery of the underwater tomb off the coast of Southwest England twenty years ago, but kept from our knowledge until last year, shed several important clues to unlocking the secret to these symbols.

With their cooperation, finally, have we made some progress since last year. You know this well, General. You were there facilitating this arrangement back then.”

Min-jung's eyes quivered in surprise as she digested this revelation. This was all news to her.

Originally, she was brought into the project nearly twenty years ago, fresh off the university. She was the so-called genius in the world of genetics and many top firms were offering unbelievable benefits just to lure her away. But it was the Project Dead Kings and its ambitious undertaking that hooked Min-jung's interests.

But many things happened since then. When her expertise was no longer vigorously required for the project's completion, she had decided to personally scale back her involvement as much as possible. If they wanted her opinion, fine, she'd provide it for a fee, but if there was a huge, new development that could impact the Project itself? She felt that she had earned the right to be in the loop.

From this revelation, though, it seemed like her thoughts were off the mark.

“What underwater tomb, Professor? And who kept it from us?!” Feeling the need to satisfy her curiosity, she asked hurriedly.

There was a thin smile on the face of the aged scholar. “....Well, since you already know the various tombs that have been uncovered, no harm in knowing this one. A British expedition uncovered a sunken burial site by accident. Further investigation revealed that it was Avalon. The Avalon of the lore. The tomb belonging to none other than one Arturus Pendragon, the King Arthur.”

“Wow,” Min-jung sucked in her breath. “That's.... I guess, par for the course in our line of work, right? I mean, almost all the other tombs of the legendary figures have been unearthed one by one, so it probably just was only a matter of time before even King Arthur got his turn....”

She smiled ruefully. It couldn't be helped – growing up, many kids adored various Arthurian legends. They grew up exposed to it more than the others, via many movies, books, cartoons, what have yous – which all built up the romanticism of it all. Putting it on the highest pedestal of heroic tales told, in other words. She too was no exception in thinking that the Arthurian legends were like that.

The part of the allure, at least to her, laid with the fact that the whole myth was steeped in uncertainty – there was no verifiable proof of King Arthur being real, but the oral tradition remained strong, perpetuated by many talented storytellers adding more to the tale and thus giving more life to it.

But now.... that important part was well and truly been shattered. The tomb of King Arthur was found. She had no reason to doubt the veracity of the people who discovered the resting place since Professor Evans agreed it was genuine as well by not refuting it right there and then.

“The British chose to keep the information out of public's scrutiny because, funnily enough, they seemed to have the similar idea to us. They were doing something similar to our project, except that they were not making much progress. Only after the numerous, repeated total failures on their part did they open up for a possibility of cooperation,” continued Evans.

Min-jung's eyes flashed coldly. “Why wasn't I informed of this?” She pointedly sent her gaze towards General Williams.

The hardened military man did not avert his gaze but met it head on. “Simple, Doctor. You chose the civilian life, which limited your access. Besides, you were involved with another project at the time for your current employers. We couldn't bring you on board even if we wanted to.”

“But you have called me in today,” said Min-jung icily. “So, obviously, you want something from me.”

“Correct,” nodded Williams. “Please continue, Professor.”

“Yes, General. Move on to the next file, please Major.” Evans coughed lightly and asked Podolsky.

The next file was another photograph, this time a close-up of the previous image. At this resolution, it was easy to see that the hieroglyphs were damaged.

“We only knew of what to call the threat – the Lord of Darkness. We also knew this being was so powerful the entire world had to band together to defeat it. This fact was recorded in all of the tombs belonging to the other legendary figures.

What we couldn't be sure of, was the conditions leading to the emergence of the said Lord. We speculated over this matter for years but, with most of the symbols in terrible shape, the truth remained too far away to unravel. The tomb found in 1979 are the most intact examples found so far, yet we don't have access to the burial site – a pity.”

Evans shook his head wryly.

Both the professor and Min-jung turned to look at General Williams, who had a displeased look – as if the Professor's words reminded him of something unpleasant. Major Podolsky, on the other hand, remained impassive and cold.

Seeing this, Min-jung just smiled wryly and decided not to say anything. After all, this matter about the tomb in question was for the politicians to resolve, and not for a scientist like her. Way above her pay grade, so to speak. Although, having said that, her current pay was probably highest in the room at the moment – the beauty of being not being a government employee, that.

“Because of the limitations imposed, my team had to take liberties here and there, thus leading to some unanswered questions as far as to what this Lord of Darkness is supposed to be. But now, with these better-preserved symbols from Avalon, we can decode far more and gain a better understanding of the whole picture.

Thus, we have made the first amendments to the previous translations.

We need to revise the level of the threat. Here,” said the Professor as he pointed at one of the symbols that seemed a little like a bamboo stick with a pair of dots hovering around its upper side.

“We didn't know what this was. Now, we think it's a sentence modifier. This symbol changes the singular noun The Lord into a plural, Lords.”

There was a collective sharp intake of breaths in the room. Even Major Podolsky seemed slightly ruffled.

“Lords? More than one? Seriously?” Williams grumbled loudly. “Christ on a pogo stick. One is bad enough, but now we might have to contend with more?”

Evans had a deep, sullen face. “Well, General. The bad news continues. We always thought that the eponymous Lord of Darkness would arise from among the current crop of Supers – as the de facto Supervillain surpassing all the others. But now...”

The old Professor shifted the end of the cane to another symbol on the projected image. And then another obscured symbol. And to another one. Those were obviously in worse shape than the first rune pointed out by the Professor.

“....With these parts now roughly translated, we might not be necessarily looking at that.... simple limitation anymore. This symbol changes the entire structure of the sentence, and now its meaning is – Lords of Darkness shall rise from the masses of souls, affected by the commands of the Gods above.”

“....That is quite different from what we know,” Min-jung slowly murmured. Before, there was no mention of the Gods nor the masses.

The first bit, to her at least who happened to be an atheist, made no sense, while the second one somehow did. She didn't believe in any of the religions as they were all, logically speaking, full of nonsense. As for the second bit, though.....

“Are we assuming that, now, anyone can become this world-threatening existence as a result of the quirky genetics? The Lord of Darkness that possess such powerful abilities that the most Supers active have to band together to stand a chance?” Williams groaned and discarded the cigar with a disgusted face. “Whew, boy. Well, no matter. This project got greenlit so we can handle situations like this. One Darkness Lord or two or whatever – we'll deal with them when the time comes. Speaking of which....”

Williams looked over at Min-jung and tossed three thick file folders marked “Top Secret: For Highest Clearances Only” in large red letters.

“You were supposed to not see this, but I got the necessary clearance for you. Tell us what you see, Doctor Mercer.

These are the most up-to-date files for the three escapees. Before this incident, they were beginning to exhibit a range of strange phenomena. Not just three of them, but all twelve of them. Our eggheads couldn't make heads or tails of the whole thing.

And now, they have escaped and are heading this way – for what purpose? For revenge? For information? We need to know. We need to know what triggered their sudden disobedience from the project.

All the compiled medical data for the three are there.”

Min-jung hurriedly thumbed through the pages, taking in the records within, until her eyes stopped at the date where the changes began. Her heart skipped a beat then.

A thin line of sweat slowly traveled down her back.

This.... this can't be. This date....

She quickly checked on the other two folders, only to confirm that the changes were observed on the exact same date as the others.

It was the date of Jack's ordeal on the highway R-35 Northbound.

~

There was one certain Greyhound bus heading towards a city in the West.

It was not as packed with passengers. None of them seemed eye-catching in any shape or form. Simply put, simple folks going to a city for various reasons – chasing dreams, going home, visiting someone, even on the run. In the case of three teenagers who sat towards the rear of the bus, though – to find the truth.

At a glance, they were like any other kids their age. One Caucasian boy and two girls, one Oriental and the other, difficult to tell. They were kitted out in jeans and simple, nondescript shirts, with baseball caps firmly pulled down to shield their faces from a closer scrutiny.

The boy had a sickly pale skin and a short, slim build. He wore a simple pair of frameless glasses lending him an air of an intellectual. Under the cap, golden locks were visibly tucked in. His soft blue eyes continued to scan the interior of the bus and the other passengers.

The Oriental girl was leaning back against the seat, seemingly asleep. Her glossy black hair cascaded down to her shoulder, hiding a pair of thin cords that led to both her ears. If one were to listen real closely, a low hum of music could be heard. The girl had a small piercing on the upper lip as well as on her nose, giving a kind of punk-like air.

The other girl was quite well built but still managed to come across as slender. But her square shoulders and lean, straight limbs that rippled with taut muscles imparted an aura of a star athlete. She had her shoulder-length brown hair tied in a single ponytail.

One thing for sure, though – all three of them were a bunch of good looking people; enough to earn them a top paying job in the modeling industry if they were keen.

The trio was silently riding on the bus, impassive and disinterested, at least outwardly so.

But if someone who was an expert at reading faces could see them right there, then this expert would have thought that these teens were in a highly stressed, deeply vigilant mood.

Occasionally, the athletic girl, who was sitting near the windows, glanced outside as if to check the surrounding cars and their occupants. Her deep green eyes seemed to glitter like a pair of polished emeralds as she took in the various cars and trucks around the moving bus.

The Oriental girl suddenly opened her eyes and gazed at the other two.

“There's the radio chatter. They know we are headed this way.”

The Oriental girl leaned towards the other two and whispered softly. Her voice was crisp and clear, almost like as if she was singing. It was pleasant to hear but at the same time, didn't seem real at all.

The boy frowned and pushed up the glasses on his nose. “We should be still around 100 miles or so away from the city in question. About time they caught onto our scents. However, it's still too far for us to walk the rest of the way. I know I can't.”

The athletic girl sighed. But the fierceness in her eyes didn't wane one bit. “What a bother. And we're so close already!! Well, Lei can hotwire a car with her powers, right? So, no problem there, right?”

The Oriental girl, Lei, looked hesitant. “Yeah, sure – as long as it's not too old. But, uh, do you know how to drive, Cleo? Cuz I can't. Neither can Erik.”

The athletic girl, Cleo, snorted derisively. “How hard can it be, right? We'll never know until we give it a shot, right?”

Erik and Lei nearly threw up their hands in the air.

“No, Cleo. It doesn't work that way,” groaned Erik as he massaged his temples. “Regardless, we need to be careful. They somehow have locked on to our current direction, so they will be keeping an eye out on all the usual methods of transportation. We'll get caught quickly if we continue like this.”

The three of them then slowly looked around their surroundings. The daylight entering the bus illuminated the interior and they could see everyone here. On the outside, the bus they were on was traveling down the Interstate. The traffic was moderate, the sky was blue, and the world was all peaceful.

Erik knew, though, that something terrifying was slowly brewing under all that facade, not too far from exploding out into the open. He decided on the next course of the action right then, already understanding that he had to hurry as quickly as possible.

“Okay, at the next gas stop, we get off and find an alternative. Agreed?”

Quietly, the girls nodded at Erik's commands.

A short chapter. Supposed to complete this yesterday and post it but got sidetracked by a very dangerous opponent - namely, a certain little WN that can be found on Wuxiaworld called The Warlock of Magus World. Bloody addicted to the stuff. Been binge reading it for the past couple of days, nonstop. Now, I can't even get anything done!! Holy cow. Yeah, I know, it can be bit child-rapey, the MC can be a bit of a scum, and there's a "!" every other sentence but hell, it's still very addictive.

No, I don't need help, thanks very much.

Edit June 2nd

Chapter 6: The Project

Professor Evans' words left Min-jung speechless and in contemplation. Not only her, but even the good General chose not to say anything, instead waiting for the professor to continue with the narrative.

Evans deeply sighed and awkwardly made his way towards General William's large desk. The old age had caught up with him, it seemed, and he was having a slight trouble walking. If it weren't for the cane, he might have asked someone else to help him with the presentation.

Next to the obligatory computer monitor on top of the desk, there was a USB docking station. The professor produced a slim flash drive out of his pocket and carefully slotted it in one of the unused ports.

“Major, would you be so kind to operate the computer for me, please? I fear my illiteracy in all matters pertaining to modern technology will be the final nail on the lid of my coffin.”

Evans lightly shook his head and apologized as Podolsky wordlessly began operating the interface to open the documents stored on the flash drive.

While that task was under way, Min-jung thought of something and inquired the group.

“So, is it correct to assume that I'm the last person to be informed of this development? Or you haven't contacted other stakeholders yet?”

General Williams took a long puff of his cigar, his eyes not particularly focused on anything. “Major will send the relevant summaries to the President, Secretary of the State, and to the members of the Congressional oversight committee as soon as we're done here. Right now, we know there's been a breakthrough in the research but that's about it, Doctor Mercer. Until the good professor clues us in, we know as much as you.”

“It's ready,” said Podolsky as she pointed towards the vacant wall to the side.

A projector shone from the ceiling and cast a bright light on the said wall. With a remote, Podolsky then killed the lights in the office, making the projection on the wall more visible.

Evans cleared his throat and began to speak as the images flashed on the wall.

“Bring up the file named PDK-790211-NW35006r first, Major. We'll start from there.”

Podolsky nodded and searched for the file on the screen. It took a bit of time as there were quite a few there. Eventually, she found the one they needed and clicked on it.

A photograph of a dimly lit area was superimposed on the wall. The poor lighting aside, the object in the center was clear enough for all to see – a light-brown stone wall full of ancient but vivid hieroglyphs, known as cuneiforms. On the bottom right corner, there was a time stamp that said “1979-02-11.”

Min-jung knew this photo well. While she was working on the Project Dead Kings as its lead geneticist, Professor Evans often showed her this image, among others, explaining its significance every time he did so.

“I presume that we all are familiar with this image, yes?” asked Evans. “If the memory has failed you, then allow me to offer a quick refresher – this part of the tomb is believed to contain a record, an abridged description, of a cataclysmic war on a global scale fought by what we now know as the first recognized Supers to walk this planet that took place well over ten thousand years ago.”

Evans approached the wall and by using his own walking stick, he began to slowly point out each of the mysterious symbols while explaining what they meant.

“In the great plains of Taklamakan, flanked by the two great and mighty sleeping Dragons, greatest warriors known to men, favored by the heavens, engaged in a bloody conflict that lasted ten generations. The land was ripped asunder, blood thickened the sand, and the sky was dyed black from the fumes of burned world below....”

Professor Evans took great pains to accurately translate each of the symbols, top to bottom. The photographs changed a couple of times, but they were all depicting the same cuneiform-covered wall, just the different parts of it, serving as a continuation for the narration.

“....But the war of the mortal world had to come to an end, not because of the heavenly warriors coming to form a truce, but a new threat appeared to destroy the very existence of mankind. This common enemy of the world is thus shall be named The Lord of Darkness.”

Finally, they reached the photo Evans wanted to show. He took a deep breath and wiped his brows with a handkerchief.

“It's here, at the Northwest corner of the tomb that the majority of the bottleneck came from. Achieving the satisfying level of translation was not possible for the last three decades or so. Partly because, the known symbols are interspersed with ones which did not match with what we knew, but also their arrangement and the placement threw us off as well. What a challenge they posed for me and my team for such a long time.”

Min-jung nodded, while thinly-veiled impatience was creeping in on the face of General Williams. “Please get on with the explanations, Professor. You know we might have unwelcome guests later on. I need to extend my full attention there soon.”

Evans chuckled apologetically. “Oh, my. It's been too long since this old man had an opportunity to prattle on. Do forgive me, General. Right, where was I? Ah, yes, stuck on this part of the wall. Ahem. So, in order to expedite the translation process, my team was tasked to devise new computer algorithms and we did go through many of them. We also enlisted many eminent experts of their respective fields but in the end, it was all to no avail.

“But then, the British contacted us last year and things became more lively, very quickly.”

“The British? Why did they contact you, professor?”

Min-jung raised an eyebrow, puzzled slightly.

“Not me, personally, but the leaders of this Project. You see, doctor, Brits had discovered a beautifully preserved underwater tomb off the coast of Southwest England around twenty years ago. However, the higher ups there chose to keep the news of the discovery from the general public as well as from our knowledge.

“But that policy only lasted until last year, when they saw fit to share what they have found with us. You should thank our good General here, as he played a pivotal role in facilitating a very favorable arrangement back then.

“And from their shared data, my team was able to finally decode the most troubling parts. We have a bit more still to translate, but we have the gist of what this wall wishes to convey to us.”

Min-jung was somewhat surprised to hear these revelations. She wasn't really expecting the brass to inform her of every decision taken by them but still, it was disappointing to be left out of the loop. After all, at one time, she was one of the most important people involved.

Originally, she was brought into the project nearly twenty years ago, fresh off from the university. She was widely acknowledged as one of the most promising geniuses in the world of genetics and many top firms were bending over backwards to offer unbelievable benefits just to lure her away. But it was the Project Dead Kings and its ambitious undertaking that hooked Min-jung's interests in the end.

Many things happened since then. When her expertise was no longer vigorously required for the project's completion, she personally decided to scale back her involvement as much as possible. If they wanted her opinion, fine, she'd provide it for a fee, but if there was a huge, new development that could impact the Project itself? Well, she wasn't really looking forward to jumping back in. She had her family to worry about now, especially her changing son.

Did she feel bitter that she wasn't informed? Maybe. But did it truly matter? No, not really. She chose to leave, and that was that. She should be glad that General was willing to tell her this much already. Still, what would have happened if she knew of what the Brits found while she worked on the Project? What would her life be like now?

She smiled ruefully and quickly settled her thoughts. Again, it didn't matter anymore. What was done, was done. Instead, she became curious about this tomb. There was no guarantee that an answer would be given to her, but she asked Evans nevertheless.

“Can you tell me more about that underwater tomb, Professor? Whose tomb is it? Anyone I read from the history books?”

A thin smile spread on the lips of the aged scholar. He didn't seek permission from General Williams and just decided to tell her the truth.

“....Well, since you already know the various tombs that have been utilized in the Project, I believe there'd be no harm in knowing this one as well. A British expedition accidentally ran into a burial site while searching for offshore gas reserves on the ocean floor. Further investigation was called for and the British experts came to a conclusion that what they have was actually a landmass that had collapsed due to an unknown factor. It took a good long to fully explore the sunken tomb, but they were able to figure out that the mysterious landmass was indeed, the fabled Avalon. The legendary Avalon of arguably the most famous English lore of all time – the lore of none other than one Arturus Pendragon, the King Arthur.”

“Wow,” Min-jung sucked in her breath. “That's.... par for the course in this line of work, I guess? I mean, almost all the other tombs of the legendary figures have been unearthed one by one, so it probably was only a matter of time before even King Arthur got his turn.”

She sighed and shook her head. The conflicted feelings she felt weren't hers alone – even Evans felt the same back when the news reached his ears. Growing up, many kids were exposed to the various retelling of Arthurian legends and come to love them, both Min-jung and Evans included.

Maybe because the story was so relatable. Maybe it was suitably fantastical. Or, maybe it was truly romantic. Whatever the case may be, the rise and the eventual fall of King of All Britons was regurgitated endlessly via countless movie reboots, novellas, and cartoons, leaving behind a tangible footprint in the popular culture.

To Min-jung, the part of the allure laid with the fact that the whole story was steeped in uncertainty, turning it into a mythical lore. There was no verifiable proof of King Arthur's actual existence being real, nor any of his knights for that matter. And that was just the way she liked. Less clearer the man's history, more imposing and wonderful his life story became.

But now.... that important part has well and truly been shattered. The tomb of King Arthur was found. It was like being told the ins and outs of her favorite magic trick as a child.

Min-jung had no reason to doubt the capacity of the people who verified the resting place since Professor Evans was not refuting it. That could only mean that he too believed it himself.

“The British chose to keep the information out of public's scrutiny because, funnily enough, they seemed to have the similar idea to us. They were doing something similar to our project, except that they had no one like our good doctor Mercer to lead them, and were not making much of a progress. Only after the numerous, repeated total failures did they open up for a possibility of cooperation,” continued Evans.

“So what happened? Were you given the access to genetic materials of King Arthur? If so, you could have called me in to take a gander,” said Min-jung, trying to sound a little peeved at her omission from what would have been an amazing opportunity for her.

The hardened military man chuckled a little. “Well, Doctor Mercer. Remember, you chose the civilian life. That limited your access. And you had left behind enough for your replacement to work his magic, so your presence wasn't strictly necessary anymore. Besides, at the time, you were involved with another project for your current employers. We couldn't bring you on board even if we wanted to.”

“But you have called me in today,” said Min-jung icily. “So, obviously, you want something from me.”

“Correct,” nodded Williams. “We do need your expertise on a matter of a grave importance. But that'll come at a later stage. So, in the meantime, please continue, Professor.”

“Yes, General. Move on to the next file, please Major.” Evans coughed lightly and asked Podolsky.

The next file was another photograph, this time a close-up of a different tomb altogether. The resolution of the image was slightly superior compared to the one shown in the previous files. Min-jung could see that the several cuneiforms were highlighted, meant to draw the attention of the audience. Remarkably, these symbols were not affected in the slightest by the passages of time.

“Well, here we are, the images the British took in Avalon. As bizarre as it may seem, we all know that these ancient cuneiforms had been uncovered in the tombs of the most powerful Supers of the history. And most, if not all, tell the similar tale.

“These highlighted symbols are what caused so much pain for us. But as you can see, they are better preserved here, enormously helping with our efforts to complete the translations. Now, we have nearly achieved that goal.

“Previously, we only knew of what to call the threat – the Lord of Darkness. We also knew this being was so powerful that the entire world had to band together to defeat him or her. This startling record could also be found in a select number of the tombs belonging to the confirmed Supers.

“What we couldn't be sure of was the conditions leading to the emergence of the said Lord of Darkness. Of course, we speculated over this matter for years but, with most of the symbols left untranslated back then, the truth remained far too difficult to unravel. The tomb I discovered in 1979 is the most known intact examples found so far, yet we no longer have access to that burial site – a pity.”

Evans shook his head wryly.

Both the professor and Min-jung turned to look at General Williams, who had rather a displeased look, as if the Professor's words reminded him of something quite unpleasant from his past. Major Podolsky, on the other hand, remained impassive and cold by his side.

Seeing this, Min-jung just smiled wryly and decided not to say anything. After all, this matter about the tomb in question was for the politicians to resolve and not for a scientist like her. Not only was it a wrong profession, but also way above her pay grade, so to speak. Although, having said that, her current monthly pay was probably highest in the room at the moment, the beauty of not being a Federal Government employee.

“Because of the limitations imposed, my team had to take liberties here and there, thus leading to some unanswered questions as far as to what this Lord of Darkness is supposed to be. But now, with these better-preserved examples from Avalon provided by the Brits and their take on the meanings of the cuneiforms, we were able to decode far more and have gained a better understanding of the entire picture.

“Thus, we have made the amendments to the previous translations. We need to revise the level of the threat. Here,”

The Professor pointed at one of the symbols that seemed a little like a bamboo stick with a pair of dots hovering around its middle.

“We didn't know what this was. Now, we think it serves one of two functions. In this case, it's a sentence modifier. This symbol changes the singular noun The Lord into a plural, Lords.”

There was a collective sharp intake of breaths in the room. Even Major Podolsky seemed slightly ruffled.

“Lords? More than one? Seriously?” Williams loudly grumbled. “Christ on a pogo stick. One is already bad enough, but now we might have to contend with more than one at the same time?”

Evans had a deep, sullen face. “Well, General. The bad news continues. We always thought that the eponymous Lord of Darkness would arise from among the current crop of Supers – as the de facto Supervillain surpassing all the others. But now...”

The old Professor shifted the end of the cane to another symbol on the projected image. And then another obscured symbol. And to another one. Those were obviously in worse shape than the first symbol pointed out by the Professor.

“....With these parts now roughly translated, we might not be necessarily looking at that.... simple limitation anymore. This symbol changes the entire structure of the sentence, and now its meaning is – Lords of Darkness shall rise from the masses of the common souls, called forth on their destructive paths by the divine commands of the Gods above.”

“....That is quite different from what we know,” Min-jung slowly murmured. Previously there was no mention of the Gods nor the masses in the translations.

The first bit about the souls, to her at least, made no sense. What did it mean, masses of souls? Did it mean a big crowd? And Evans also said “common” souls, so it could mean that a Lord of Darkness might spring out of anywhere where human beings lived. That was as broad as it could possibly get.

The second bit, though, took the cake for being the most illogical of the two. Her scientific mind had deciphered a long time ago that pretty much every religion she was exposed to was full of nonsense. So all these talks of gods and heavens were lost on her. But she could understand that it was a perfectly fine way to describe something beyond the scope of knowledge for the ancient civilizations. Relying on the illusory gods to explain away seemingly supernatural events was pretty easy to do, after all. And there was an added bonus of being able to control a crowd that way as well.

“Are we assuming that, now, anyone can become this world-threatening existence as a result of the quirky genetics? The Lord of Darkness that possess such powerful abilities that the most active Supers have to band together to stand a chance?”

Williams groaned and discarded the cigar with a disgusted face.

“Whew, boy. Well, no matter. This project got greenlit so we can handle situations like this. One Darkness Lord or two or whatever – we'll deal with them when the time comes. I'll just ask for an increase in the operating budget. Money solves most problems, anyways. Speaking of which....”

Williams looked over at Min-jung and tossed three thick file folders marked “Top Secret: For Highest Clearances Only” in large red letters.

“You were originally not supposed to see those, but I got the necessary clearance for you. Tell us what you see, Doctor Mercer.

“Those files are the most up-to-date files for our three escaped participants of the Project. Before this incident, they were beginning to exhibit a range of strange phenomena and behavior. Not just three of them, but all twelve of them. Our eggheads couldn't make heads nor tails of the whole thing.

“And now, they have escaped and are allegedly heading this way – for what purpose? For revenge? For information? We need to know. We need to know what triggered their sudden disobedience from the project.

“All the compiled medical data for the three are there. Files for the other participants are here too, but for now, those three takes the precedence over the rest. Figuring out what's gone wrong with them – that's the reason why I called you in. Just that, the timeline has moved up a notch since that decision.”

Min-jung hurriedly thumbed through the pages, taking in the records within, until her eyes stopped at the date where the changes began. Her heart skipped a beat then.

A thin line of sweat slowly traveled down her back.

This.... this can't be. This date....

She quickly checked on the other two folders, only to confirm that the changes were observed on the exact same date as the others.

It was the date of Jack's ordeal on the highway R-35 Northbound.

~

There was one certain Greyhound bus heading towards a city in the West.

It was not as packed with passengers as the operators would have preferred. The competition was fierce for the rights to ferry the common man, as it transpired. But as long people got to their destinations with the least amount of hassle, no one cared.

None of those hitching a ride seemed eye-catching in any shape or form. Simply put, they were normal, regular folks going to a big city for various reasons. Some were chasing after their dreams, some were going back home, some were planning to visit their acquaintances, and some of them were on the run, from their past, from the oppression of their lives, from the law, even.

In the case of three teenagers who sat towards the rear of the bus, though – to find the truth.

At a glance, they were like any other kids their age. One Caucasian boy and two girls, one Oriental and the other, difficult to tell initially, but maybe from one of the Mediterranean countries. They were kitted out in jeans and simple, nondescript shirts, with baseball caps firmly pulled down to shield their faces from a closer scrutiny.

The boy had a sickly pale skin and a short, slim build. He wore a simple pair of frameless glasses lending him an air of an intellectual. Under the cap, golden locks were visibly tucked in. His soft blue eyes continued to scan the interior of the bus and the other passengers.

The Oriental girl was leaning back against the seat, seemingly asleep. Her glossy black hair cascaded down to her shoulder, hiding a pair of thin cords that led to both her ears. If one were to listen real closely, a low hum could be heard from the hidden earphones. The girl had a small piercing on the upper lip as well as on her nose, giving a kind of punk-like air.

The other girl was well built physically but still managed to come across as quite slender. But her square shoulders and lean, straight limbs that rippled with taut muscles imparted an aura of a star athlete. She had her shoulder-length dark brown hair tied in a single ponytail.

One thing for sure, though – all three of them were a bunch of good looking people; enough to earn them top-paying gigs in the modeling industry if they were keen.

The trio silently rode on the bus, impassive and disinterested, at least outwardly so.

But if someone who was an expert at reading faces could see them right now, then this expert would have thought that these teens were in a highly stressed, deeply vigilant mood.

Occasionally, the athletic girl, who was sitting near the windows, glanced outside as if to check the surrounding cars and their occupants. Her deep green eyes seemed to glitter like a pair of polished emeralds as she took in the various cars and trucks around the moving bus.

The Oriental girl suddenly opened her eyes and gazed at the other two.

“There's a radio chatter. They know we are headed this way.” She leaned towards the other two and whispered softly.

Her voice was crisp and clear, almost like as if she was singing. It was pleasant to hear but at the same time, didn't seem real at all.

The boy frowned and pushed up the glasses on his nose. “We should be still around 50 miles or so away from the city in question. About time they caught onto our scents. However, it's still too far for us to walk the rest of the way. I sure know I can't.”

The athletic girl sighed. But the fierceness in her eyes didn't wane one bit. “What a bother. And we're so close already, you know!! Well, Lei can hotwire a car with her powers, right? So, no problem there, right? Riding on a bus is so boring, you know? Let's get off, like, now!!”

The Oriental girl, Lei, and the glasses-wearing boy groaned and shook their heads.

“Cleo, don't be unreasonable. You want us to jump out of a moving bus? Maybe you'll be fine, but Lei and I won't be,” said the boy.

“As long as the car isn't too old and have some form of electronic controls, I can drive it,” said Lei. “We shouldn't have taken a bus, though. It's taking too long to get to our destination this way....”

Cleo the athletic girl nodded. “Right, right. We shouldn't have, you know. We should've just gone with the car we got from the Facility. It's Erik's fault, you know?”

Erik the glasses-wearing boy groaned. “Those cars are Low-jacked. We would not have gotten away at all if we stayed with that car, Cleo. I told you this already, didn't I?! Okay, whatever, that's not important right now.”

He massaged the bridge of his nose and adjusted the glasses.

“We need to be extra careful from now on when we are so close. They have somehow locked on to our current heading, so no doubt they will be keeping an eye out on all the usual methods of transportation. We'll get caught quickly if we continue riding on this bus.”

The three of them then slowly looked around their surroundings. The daylight entering the bus illuminated the interior and they could see everyone here. On the outside, the bus they were on was traveling down the Interstate. The traffic was moderate, the sky was blue, and the world seemed rather peaceful.

Erik knew, though, that such a facade wouldn't last long. The secrets he carried, and indeed by his friends, could pretty much tilt the apple cart beyond redemption if he chose to go down that route. But will he? Erik wasn't sure yet.

What he was sure of, was the next course of the action they had to take.

“Okay, at the next rest stop, we get off and find an alternative. Agreed?”

Quietly, the girls nodded at Erik's suggestion.

A_Passing_Wanderer · Jun 2, 2017

Chapter 7

Jack and Taylor quietly rode on their bicycles. Previously, they had entrusted their only mode of transportation at the empty, unmanned Park Ranger station situated near the mouth of the nature reserve that, unfortunately, passed off as an attempt at preserving the mother nature.

Their faces were glum, unhappy, and just a bit on the paler side. On Jack's right hand, there was some dried blood. The trail leading into the civilization was eerily deserted of people and it only served to feed their sense of isolation.

The day's activity sure had left them with a nasty taste that was hard to get rid of. Taylor half expected it to be so, but even then, she wasn't prepared for the things to become this messy.

As for Jack....

He just wanted to go home and crawl under a blanket. Then, forget about this whole load of crap for good. What revenge? What pursuit of justice for the victims?

Hah. What a joke.

No way had he so acutely felt his position in the society – just a snotty nosed kid from a cozy, lazy, and all too boring suburbia of nowhere, his role firmly established at birth, destined to become a fat, middle-aged consumer of fast foods and never ending annualized First Person Shooter Franchises. That's what he was.

Taking a life was not something simple as it was made out to be in the movies and games and novels and the like. It was, in short, a miserable, crappy and ultimately, a terrible task he'd rather not do ever again.

The weakened whine of the dying coyote remained with him like a poisonous wasp, buzzing inside his ears and showing no signs of leaving him alone. Whether it was an illusion or not, he felt like an arsehole, after all was said and done.

The duo pedaled until the trail ended and the road to civilization opened up. Still, there was no sign of humanity anywhere here. He felt it quite bizarre. He had no idea that the end of suburbs could be this desolate.

“Hey, there's a convenience store. Go and wash up, Mercer,” said Taylor as she pointed across the road.

Jack glanced down at his bloodied hand which, coupled with his dirtied clothing and bedraggled expression, made him look like a dangerous criminal on the run. Smiling tiredly, he pointed the bicycle towards the store, followed closely behind by Taylor.

There were no cars on the road. There was only a single, beat-up hatchback from the good old 80s parked in the corner. A loud, colorful signboard cheerfully proclaimed the latest discounts available in the store. Jack couldn't seem to focus on those, though. He just couldn't care any less even if he tried.

Parking the bikes at the entrance, the two entered through the automatic sliding glass doors. There was only a single uniformed person inside, a clerk, who was absentmindedly watching the TV. He was not much older than Jack, the signs of immaturity fully visible with pimples on his cheeks.

“Excuse me, where's the bathroom?”

Taylor loudly asked the clerk.

“Towards the back, next to the soda machine,” replied the man without bothering to look at her.

“You heard him,” Taylor shrugged her shoulders. “Go wash up.”

Jack hurriedly made his way back, and after a brief search found the empty hallway behind a push door that led to the bathroom. He didn't hesitate and entered. There was a distant, unidentifiable buzzing coming the back, somewhere. He could just about make out the storage and the boxes of things stacked in the darkness there.

The door to the toilet was right next to it, unlocked, and surprisingly dirty. Which was odd, since the store was clean and well kept outwardly. The inside of this toilet was equally abysmal – grimy, walls and surfaces filled with lewd and rude scribbles all over the place. There were three cubicles but two of them had their doors broken in the hinges. At least the two wash basins present seemed to work fine, albeit just barely.

Jack groaned softly after realizing that there was no soap here, never mind a towel or a machine to dry his hands. He was somewhat astonished that such a place existed in his neck of the woods. Didn't seem real – as if he had stepped into some imaginary hell.

The water trickling out from the faucet ran down to his hands, settling down on the dried blood before sliding down, the color changing to reddish pink.

He slowly scrubbed his hands at first. The water felt cold against his bare skin. The blood from the dead animal was coming off a bit by bit, a layer by layer.

Yet, beneath that layer, there was another. And when he washed that off, there was another one still. He scrubbed it vigorously, harder and harder, faster and faster until the layer came off. But again, there was yet another one waiting for him.

Gritting his teeth, Jack clawed at the disgusting remnants of blood, the evidence of his guilt, like a madman. Finally, his skin broke and his own blood began to mingle with what was already on his skin. The scratch stung, and quickly brought him out of the maddened state.

He was breathing heavily as if he ran a lengthy marathon. When he saw his own reflection in the mirror, he could see how pale he was. Jack gulped down a lot of air, trying to calm down. There was no energy in his legs, and he felt like toppling over. Only by holding onto the basin and bending over, did he feel a little more secure of his footing.

Because of the closer proximity, the water splashed inside the basin and some landed on his face. Reflexively, Jack brought up his hands to wipe the droplets away. But that was a mistake - because his wiping hands left a trail of muddied blood on his face.

Jack sucked in another bout of deep breaths as horror filled him up rapidly. Now the face in the mirror looked like a true villain. A killer and a taker of lives. A bad guy who had stolen his face. That man in the mirror was not him.

Jack quickly buried his head under the stream of water, trying to get closer to the faucet and clean his face. The angle was all wrong and it was difficult to fully get under. He persisted, of course. He had to get this blood off him. He angrily splashed water on his face.

All because he simply couldn't bear to witness the transformation of one Jack Mercer into a murderer.

No, he was not like them. He was not a monster like those bastards busy flaunting their superpowers like some kind of gods lording over the common, powerless people and do whatever they pleased. He was not like them. Never.

Jack didn't know just how long he spent in the bathroom, but when he finally raised his head, all the bloodstain was gone. His face was still pale, but at least, all signs of him committing a terrible deed had disappeared for good.

He drank the water, trying to wash away the bitter taste in his mouth. He immediately spat out, regretting his decision soon after.

Wiping the water off with the back of his hand, he thought of buying a soda on his way out. He knew that sugar could calm the frayed nerves somewhat. He saw that in a movie.

He took some toilet papers from the cubicles and dried his face. It was time to go home and stop pretending. He was going back home and back to the life he knew. Away from this madness of Supers and whatnots.

Only, the fate didn't want to let him.

He was about to reach the door handle when he heard a loud shout. His enhanced hearing came to the fore.

“Give me all the money in the counter, now!!”

Jack froze on the spot when he heard that. He silently cursed out in his heart.

What the hell?! What is this cliched development?

A holdup was in progress.

If he stayed in the bathroom, then the storm might pass him by. After all, hiding in here guaranteed his safety.

Yeah, let's stay in here. That's for the best...

“Uh? What the f*ck? Hey, bi*ch, c'mere, now!! Get your ass over here!! You looking to die? I said, get your ass over here, now!!”

Jack turned into a stone statue when the rough, intimidating words flowed into his ears. His hands gripped the door handle tightly until the knob was creaking under the pressure.

Oh, no!! Taylor – she was still inside the store!!

Jack gritted his teeth. She might be a Super, but her powers were not really useful in a situation like this. She could only tell whether a person was a Super or not, or for that matter, whether there was a person in the vicinity near her. Of course, it was a given that she wouldn't be able to tell apart a gun toting criminal from a law-abiding citizen.

What.... What do I do now?!

He hesitated. He didn't know what to do. He briefly thought about going out there and take the armed robber head on, but he had no courage. He just wanted to hide in here and do absolutely nothing.

But once more, the choice was made for him.

There was a loud gunshot. And then, another.

The sharp crack of each shot pierced into Jack's heart. Suddenly, his head was filled with the image of the dead coyote, but this time Taylor's dying body replacing it.

Like a possessed man, he dashed out of the bathroom. The door broke and flung off the hinges. He didn't care.

There were two of them. Both them were decked out in black, head to toe. Black ski masks, black shirts, black pants – even the pistols wielded by the two were black in color.

One of them was holding Taylor from behind, the way a hostage taker might. He had his gun pressed against her temple.

The other one was already behind the counter. From this angle, Jack couldn't see what happened to the clerk, obscured partially from his view. But he could guess.

Jack threw himself at the hostage taker. He was the nearest. They weren't ready for his sudden and violent appearance.

When he got closer, he could see the stunned expression hidden behind the ski mask. The robber's brown eyes widened. His mouth tried to form a word.

Too late.

Jack's hand shot out and grabbed the gun-wielding hand. Then, he twisted it upwards. The unmistakable sound of a bone snapping in half followed soon after.

The robber cried out. His grip on Taylor loosened. She took this chance to dive forward, out of the man's grasp. This paved way for what Jack wanted to do next – to land a solid punch on his face.

And land he did. Jack's knuckles dug deep into the robber's masked face, and the teen clearly felt flesh and bone giving way to his pressure. The robber became airborne, off his feet, momentarily escaping the embrace of the gravity.

The force of Jack's punch propelled the robber back, and his body slammed into the display cabinets full of junk food with a huge crash.

There was now a stunned silence in the store. Even the robber behind the counter remained still, stupefied. His hand was in the middle of going through the open till but now, he wasn't even moving anymore.

“Get the other guy!!”

Taylor shouted from the floor. That broke the stupor of both men.

The robber hurriedly raised his pistol and took aim at Jack, while cursing out loud. “F*ck!! A goddamn Super!!”

He had all the right to feel aggrieved. Of all the joints he could hit, he and his pal just had to choose the one with a Super hiding in the corner, waiting to pounce. Now that was a rotten luck.

Jack raised his head and saw the muzzle of the gun. For some reason, he was calm, not an ounce of panic in his heart. As the adrenaline flowed in his veins, the world around him slowed down to a crawl and he could clearly see the movement of the robber's arm, the gun, and even the potential trajectory of the bullet judged by the direction the muzzle was pointing at.

His body, driven by instinct, shifted to his left side on its own the moment the robber pulled the trigger.

Jack could see the bullet leaving the muzzle; the empty cartridge ejecting from the chamber as the slide moved; the thin, almost imperceptible dispersing molecules of gunpowder.

But the thing was, it didn't matter whether he could see them or not. Because, there was just no way his body could react in time.

The first bullet grazed by his shoulder. The second bullet struck the shelf just as Jack ducked behind it. A split second of hesitation, and he'd be the one with a bullet hole in his face. The things on the destroyed shelf scattered noisily, showering him with the debris of potato crisps and white powder of some kind that smelled rather sweet.

He had no time to ponder the matter of the mystery item's identity, though; the robber kept on firing the gun, necessitating Jack to continue with hauling his ass out of there in a hurry.

The robber cursed aloud and decided in haste to empty his clip right there and then. After all, he was facing a Super – if he didn't go all out, then he'd surely suffer the consequences.

It was like a scene from a Hollywood action movie; Jack ran while crouched, broken things and bits flying and showering all over. In a flash, he arrived at the window. He didn't hesitate one bit and dived head first. He didn't forget to raise his arms to shield his face, though.

The glass shattered rather dramatically, with bullets trailing him from behind. Even though he was in mid-air, Jack still had the mental wherewithal to glance back and see the robber.

And he saw that the robber had run out of ammo, as his finger was depressed over the trigger but no bullet was coming out.

The robber was obviously flustered. In his panic, he ran out of the store via the front door, ignoring Jack who was trying to get back up. In his haste to escape, he even forgot about his buddy, still sprawled out inside across the broken shelf.

Jack stood up, ignoring the bits of glass all over his body. He was about to give chase when he heard Taylor shout out for him from inside the store. Reluctantly, Jack watched as the robber jump into an old four-door sedan and drive off in a hurry then he turned on his heels to come back inside. He was worried about Taylor's condition as well.

Once inside, there was a mixture of smells wafting in the air. There was soda, crisps, disinfectants, as well as another smell he wasn't familiar with but knew instantly that it was from the gun – the bitter and acrid smell of gunpowder expanding under heat.

And then – there was also blood.

Jack paled with worry and hurriedly called for Taylor when he couldn't see her. “Hey!! Where are you?”

“Over here!! Call an ambulance!!”

Taylor shouted from behind the counter. Jack rushed there and when he looked over, he paled even more as he saw her pressing down on a wound on the chest of the clerk. It was bleeding profusely through the gaps of her fingers. Her face was grim, while the clerk's were pale and his eyes drifting away.

The very first impression he got was that there was just so much blood. Jack stumbled back, feeling of vomit rising up in his throat once more.

Taylor was doing her best to stem the flow of blood. Her hands were full and she needed help right away. Yet, that help didn't materialize. In a frenzy, she shouted out aloud.

“Jack Mercer!! Wake up!! I need you to man up and pull your weight around now!! Or this person will die because of your inaction!! Do you want that on your conscience?!”

Jack shuddered from the shock. His retreating steps stopped. The cloud of fear in his eyes lifted, albeit just a bit. But that was enough for him to regain some of his senses.

He gritted his teeth again and quickly rummaged his pockets for the smartphone. Thankfully it had survived the crashing through the window and it still functioned properly.

Jack quickly dialed 911 and described the situation to the operator. Of course, he didn't forget to omit some things from his reports.

By the time he finished the call, he heard the groan from the second robber behind him.

An intense anger flared up in his heart. Jack rushed to the man and raised his fist, ready to bash in the bastard's skull.

The robber pathetically whimpered and raised his only working arm to shield his face. “Please!! Please don't hurt me, man!! Please!!”

Jack hesitated. The robber's eyes were so full of fear it even affected Jack quite a lot. The way he was looked at was like how a victim of a terrible attack would look at the perpetrator. In other words, as if looking at a monster.

Jack's expression darkened. He didn't want to be viewed as a monster by the likes of this armed robber. This man was the villain, not him. The man with the gun was the true monster in this situation.

To reinforce and confirm his beliefs, Jack reached out and yanked the robber's ski mask off. The revealed face, however, showed a scared looking man in his early twenties. There were trails of tears and snot, some blood on his face.

He looked just like any other person.

Jack was stunned into silence. He expected to see some evil, devilish countenance, a face so unforgivable and suitable for a criminal like him but not this, a plain face.

And for the briefest moment Jack's eyes wandered, they saw the multiple, scattered and broken reflections of himself on the fallen bits of glass.

To his horror, he looked more like the monster between the two of them. There were streaks of blood all over his face where the window had cut him. His clothes were torn and cut, too. And there was a mess of unidentifiable things all over him, coloring him in a heady mix of dirt and a sickly rainbow.

Jack stumbled back up, trembling intensely at his own reflection. He could not recognize the face staring back. That creature was a deranged monster. No way in hell that could be him. It just couldn't be him.

He stood there, stupefied into silence. The robber was confused and was tilting his head. But he wasn't going anywhere, because there was a loud wailing siren of a police car in the distance, rapidly closing in.

Another short-ish chapter. And still addicted to the Warlock of Magus World. Still can't get anything done. And I'm only about half way done binging all the translated chapters... dear lord....

Edit June 2nd

Chapter 7: The Monster

Jack and Taylor were quietly walking towards the exit of the wilderness, their faces tired and haunted. Before entering the forest, they had entrusted their only mode of transportation, their bicycles, at the empty, unmanned Park Ranger station situated near the entrance of the so-called “nature reserve.” It was nothing as grand as that, but as with one so far removed from the mother nature, even the most unflattering landscape could be transformed into an untamed savannah with one or two carefully worded signboards out up front.

The two of them didn't care about that, however.

They were in a various state of glum, unhappy, and just a bit on the paler side. On Jack's right hand, there was some dried blood. Their shoes were grimy, caked in dirt and needing a thorough wash pretty soon.

The trail leading into the civilization was eerily deserted of people and it only served to feed their sense of isolation. Not even the pleasant buzzing of insects and the birds lazily floating by in the air could change that.

The day's activity had left them with a nasty aftertaste that was hard to get rid of. Taylor thought she was mentally well prepared for it, but even then, the shock of the real thing was far harder to handle, far messier than her own naive imaginations could ever come up with. And as for Jack, it wasn't any better. No, it was worse. Much worse.

He just wanted to go home and crawl under a blanket. And then, just forget this whole thing about getting stronger. That was all a load of crap. What revenge? What pursuit of justice for the victims? What the hell was all that about?

Hah. What a joke.

No way had he so acutely felt his position in the society. It was an eye opener. As soon as the adrenaline wore off, as soon as the realization of his actions dawned on him, Jack regretted everything. Literally, everything.

In the end, he was just a snotty-nosed kid from a cozy, lazy, and all too boring suburbia out of nowhere, his role in this world already established at birth: destined to become a fat, middle-aged consumer of fast foods and never-ending annualized First Person Shooter Franchises. That's what he was.

Taking a life by force was not something as simple as it was made out to be in the movies and games and novels and the like. It was, in short, a miserable, crappy and ultimately, a terrible task he'd rather not do ever again.

The weakened whine of the dying coyote remained with him like a poisonous wasp, buzzing inside his ears and showing no signs of leaving him alone. It reminded him, ever so slightly, of all the anguished cries from that hellish day. Whether the continuous buzzing was an illusion or not, the sound remained etched in his memory, making sure of Jack feeling like an asshole.

The duo retrieved and got on their bicycles, silently pedaled away until the trail ended for good, with the road to civilization opening up. The signs of humanity were sparse; electric poles, street lamps, roads and rows of houses and sporadically parked cars. Yet, strangely, no actual human beings anywhere. It was totally deserted.

Jack found it quite bizarre. He had no idea that the end of suburbs could be this desolate and empty.

“Hey, there's a convenience store. Go and wash up, Mercer,” said Taylor as she pointed across the road.

Jack glanced down at his bloodied hand which, coupled with his dirtied clothing and bedraggled expression, made him look like a dangerous criminal on the run. Smiling tiredly, he pointed the bicycle towards the store, Taylor following closely behind.

There were no moving cars on the road. There was only a single, beat-up hatchback from the good old 80s parked in the store's front parking lot. A loud, colorful signboard cheerfully advertised the latest discounts available in the store, advising the shoppers not to miss this opportunity. Jack couldn't seem to focus on these sales of the century. He just couldn't care any less even if he tried. Too mentally worn out and desperate to go home for a rest, was all.

Parking the bikes at the entrance, the two entered through the automatic sliding glass doors. There was only a single uniformed person inside, a clerk, who was absentmindedly watching the TV. He was not much older than Jack, the signs of immaturity manifesting as pinkish pimples on his cheeks.

“Excuse me, where's the bathroom?”

Taylor loudly asked the clerk.

“Towards the back, next to the storage,” replied the man without bothering to look at her.

“You heard him,” Taylor shrugged her shoulders. “Go wash up.”

Jack hurriedly made his way back, and after a brief search found the empty hallway behind a push door. He saw the bathroom sign there so he entered without hesitation.

There was a distant, unidentifiable buzzing coming the back, somewhere. He could just about make out the storage and the boxes of goods stacked in the darkness. The sign for the rear emergency exit flickered intermittently.

The door to the toilet was right next to the storage, unlocked, and surprisingly dirty. No one seemed to have cleaned it in a year or two. That was odd, since the actual store was clean and well kept.

The inside of the toilet was equally abysmal – grimy, walls and surfaces filled with lewd and rude scribbles all over the place, missing tiles and overhead lights flickering and dying, before miraculously resurrecting, only to repeat the process again. There were three cubicles but two of them had their doors broken in the hinges. At least the two wash basins present seemed to work fine, albeit just barely.

Jack groaned softly after realizing that there was no soap here, never mind a towel or a machine to dry his hands. He was somewhat astonished that such a place existed in his neck of the woods. Didn't seem real – as if he had unwittingly traveled to the set of a classic slasher movie.

The water trickling out from the faucet ran down to his hands, settling on the dried blood for a second before sliding further down, the color changing to reddish pink.

Jack slowly scrubbed his hands, at first. The water felt cold against his bare skin. The blood from the dead animal was coming off a bit by bit, a layer by layer.

Yet, beneath one layer, there was another. And when he managed to wash that off, there was another one still. His scrubbing became vigorous, harder and harder, faster and faster until he could get those layers off his hands.

But yet again, there was another layer waiting underneath, mocking him silently.

Gritting his teeth, Jack clawed at the disgusting remnants of blood, the evidence of his guilt, like a madman. Finally, his skin broke and his own blood began to mingle with what was already on his skin. The scratch stung, and the pain brought him out of the maddened state.

Jack was breathing heavily as if he ran a lengthy marathon. When he saw his own reflection in the mirror, he could see how pale he was. Jack gulped down a lot of stale air, trying to calm down. There was nearly not enough energy in his legs, and he felt like toppling over. Only by holding onto the basin and bending over did he feel a little more secure of his footing.

Because of the closer proximity, the water splashed inside the basin and some landed on his face. Reflexively, Jack brought up his hands to wipe the droplets away. But that was a mistake – because his wiping hands left a trail of muddied blood on his face.

Jack sucked in another bout of deep breaths as dread rapidly filled him up inside. Now the face in the mirror looked like a true villain, a killer and a taker of lives. A bad guy, a monster, had stolen his face. That man in the mirror was not him. It couldn't be him.

Jack quickly buried his head under the stream of water, trying to get closer to the faucet and wash his face clean. The angle was all wrong and it was difficult to fully get under the roaring water. He persisted, of course. He had to get this blood off him. He angrily splashed water on his face.

All because he simply couldn't bear to witness the transformation of one Jack Mercer into a murderer.

No, he was not like them. He was not a monster like those bastards busy flaunting their superpowers like some kind of gods lording over the common, powerless people and doing whatever they pleased. He was not like them. Never.

Jack didn't know just how long he spent in the bathroom, but when he finally raised his head, all the bloodstain was gone. His face was deathly pale, but at least, all signs of him committing a terrible deed had disappeared for good. The broken skin on his hand had already stopped hurting, the sign of his enhancement working properly.

He drank the water, trying to wash away the bitter taste in his mouth. He immediately spat out, regretting his decision soon after. The water tasted worse than mud.

Wiping the mouth with the back of his hand, Jack thought about buying a soda on his way out. He heard that sugar could calm the frayed nerves. He saw that in some movie not too long ago.

Jack took usable toilet papers from the cubicles and dried his face. It was time to go home and stop this charade. The period of pretending to be an avenging angel was over. He was going back home and back to the life he knew. Away from this madness of Supers and whatnots.

As for the agreement Jack made with Taylor, he would honor it. He may not need her powers anymore, but that was fine. He wasn't going to go back on his words; a promise was a promise, so he shall fulfill it.

Only if the fate would let him return to his old life.

Jack was about to reach the door handle when he heard a loud shout. His enhanced hearing came to the fore, allowing him to hear the contents. They were not good. Not good at all.

“Give me all the money in the counter, now!!”

Jack froze on the spot when he heard that. He silently cursed out in his heart.

What the hell?! What is this cliched development?

A holdup was in progress. And he needed to make a quick decision.

If Jack stayed in the bathroom, then this storm might pass him by. After all, hiding in here guaranteed his safety. It was not like the robber would enter the toilet to steal the soap or something, since there was none here, to begin with. Thinking of his own safety, the choice was obvious.

Yeah, let's stay in here. That's for the best...

“Uh? What the f*ck? Hey, bi*ch, c'mere, now!! Get your skinny ass over here right now!! You looking to die? I said, get your ass over here, now, bi*ch!!”

Jack turned into a stone statue when the rough, intimidating words flowed into his ears. His hands gripped the door handle tightly until the knob was creaking under the pressure.

Oh, no!! Taylor – she's still inside the store!!

Jack gritted his teeth. She might be a Super, but her powers were not really useful in a situation like this. She could only tell whether a person was a Super or not, or for that matter, whether there was a person in the vicinity near her. Of course, it was a given that she wouldn't be able to tell apart a gun toting criminal from a law-abiding citizen.

What.... What do I do now?!

He hesitated. He didn't know what to do anymore. He briefly entertained the idea of going out there and taking the armed robber or robbers head on, but he had no courage. He just wanted to hide in here and do absolutely nothing.

But once more, the choice was made for him.

There was a loud gunshot. And then, another.

The sharp crack of each shot pierced into Jack's heart. Suddenly, his head was filled with the image of the dead coyote, but this time Taylor's dying body replacing it.

Like a possessed man, he dashed out of the bathroom. The door broke and flung off the hinges. He didn't care.

There were two robbers. Both them were decked out in black, head to toe. Black ski masks, black shirts, black pants – even the pistols wielded by the two were black in color.

One of them was holding Taylor from behind, the way a hostage taker might. He had his gun pressed against her temple. She was terrified, trembling like a wet dog.

The other armed robber was already behind the counter. From his angle, Jack couldn't see what happened to the clerk, obscured partially from his view. But he could guess.

Jack threw himself at the hostage taker; he was the nearest. They weren't ready for a sudden and violent appearance of a hidden player, which worked to Jack's favor.

When he got closer, Jack could see the stunned expression hidden behind the ski mask. The robber's brown eyes widened, his mouth trying to form a word.

Too late.

Jack's hand shot out and grabbed the gun-wielding hand. Then, he twisted it upwards. The unmistakable sound of a bone snapping in half followed soon after.

The robber cried out. His grip on Taylor loosened. She took this chance to dive forward, out of the man's grasp. This paved way for what Jack wanted to do next – to land a solid punch on his face.

And land he did. Jack's knuckles dug deep into the robber's masked face, and the teenager clearly felt flesh and bone giving way under pressure. The robber became airborne, off his feet, momentarily escaping the embrace of the gravity.

The force of Jack's punch propelled the robber back, and his body slammed into the display cabinets full of junk food with a huge crash.

There was now a stunned silence in the store. Even the robber behind the counter remained still, stupefied. His hand was in the middle of going through the open till but now, he wasn't even moving anymore.

Jack breathed heavily, his adrenaline coursing through his veins once more. He felt good. He felt invincible. He felt like he could take on an army all alone. He clenched his fists in excitement. It was such a huge change in his temperament from less than a minute ago when he was a scared kid wanting to hide in a corner.

Jack was smiling like a madman in that moment.

“Get the other guy!!”

Taylor shouted from the floor. That broke the stupor of both men.

The robber hurriedly raised his pistol and took aim at Jack, while cursing out loud. “F*ck!! A goddamn Super!!”

The robber had all the right to feel aggrieved. Of all the joints he could hit, he and his pal just had to choose the one with a damn Super doing his thing, waiting to pounce on them. Now that was the very definition of “Rotten Luck.”

Jack raised his head and saw the muzzle of the gun. Like that time facing the coyote, he was calm, not an ounce of panic in his heart. As the adrenaline flowed in his veins faster and faster, the world around him slowed down to a crawl and he could clearly see the movement of the robber's arm, the gun, and even the potential trajectory of the bullet, judged by the direction the muzzle was pointing at.

His body, driven by instinct, shifted to his left side on its own the moment the robber pulled the trigger.

Jack could see the bullet leaving the muzzle; the empty cartridge ejecting from the chamber as the slide moved; the thin, almost imperceptible dispersing molecules of gunpowder.

But the thing was, it didn't matter whether he could see them or not. Because, there was just no way his body could react in time.

The first bullet grazed by his shoulder. The second bullet struck the shelf just as Jack ducked behind it. A split second of hesitation, and he'd be the one with a bullet hole in his face. The things on the destroyed shelf scattered noisily, showering him with the debris of potato crisps and white powder of some kind that smelled rather sweet.

He had no time to ponder the identity of the mystery item, though. The robber kept on firing the gun, necessitating Jack to continue with hauling his ass out of there in a hurry.

The robber cursed aloud and decided in haste to empty his clip right there and then. After all, he was facing a Super – if he didn't go all out, then he'd surely suffer the consequences.

It was like a scene from a cheap Hollywood action movie; Jack ran while crouching, broken things and bits flying and showering all over. In a flash, he arrived at the window. He didn't hesitate one bit and dived head first. He didn't forget to raise his arms to shield his face, of course.

The glass shattered rather dramatically, with bullets trailing him from behind. Even though he was in mid-air, Jack still had the mental wherewithal to glance back and see the robber.

And he saw that the robber had run out of ammo, as his finger was depressed over the trigger but no bullet was coming out.

The robber was obviously flustered. In his panic, he ran out of the store via the front door, ignoring Jack who was trying to get back up. In his haste to escape, he even forgot about his buddy, still sprawled out inside across the broken shelf.

Jack stood up, ignoring the bits of glass all over his body. He was about to give chase when he heard Taylor shout out for him from inside the store. Reluctantly, Jack watched the robber jump into an old muscle car and drive off in a hurry, then he turned on his heels to come back inside. He was beginning to get worried about Taylor's condition as well.

Once inside, there was a mixture of smells wafting in the air. There were soda, crisps, disinfectants, as well as another smell he wasn't familiar with but knew instantly that it was from the gun – the bitter and acrid smell of gunpowder expanding under heat.

And then – there was also blood.

Jack paled and hurriedly called out for Taylor when he couldn't immediately find her. “Hey!! Where are you?”

“Over here!! Call an ambulance!!”

Taylor shouted from behind the counter. Jack rushed there and when he looked over, he paled even more as he saw her pressing down on a wound on the chest of the clerk. It was bleeding profusely through the gaps of her fingers. Her face was grim, while the clerk's were pale and his eyes drifting away.

The very first impression he got was that there was just so much blood. Jack stumbled back, feeling of vomit rising up in his throat once more. The formerly excited state evaporated like a lie and the previous fears of him becoming a monster rushed back. He didn't want to take part in any of this. He had enough guilt on his hands.

Taylor was doing her best to stem the flow of blood. Her hands were full and she urgently needed help. Yet, that expected help didn't materialize. In a frenzy, she shouted out aloud.

“Jack Mercer!! Wake up!! I need you to man up and pull your weight right now!! Or this person will die because of your inaction!! Do you want that on your conscience?!”

Jack shuddered from the shock. His retreating steps stopped. The cloud of fear in his eyes lifted, albeit just a bit. But that was enough for him to regain some of his senses.

He gritted his teeth again and quickly rummaged his pockets for the smartphone. Thankfully it had survived the crashing through the window and it still functioned properly.

Jack quickly dialed 911 and described the situation to the operator. Of course, he didn't forget to omit some things from his reports.

By the time he finished the call, he heard the groan from the second robber behind him.

An intense anger flared up like a raging tornado inside him. Jack rushed to the robber and raised his fist, ready to bash in the bastard's skull. His fury at nearly getting himself and Taylor killed blinded him even from the burning fear in his heart.

The robber pathetically whimpered and raised his only working arm to shield his face. “Please!! Please don't hurt me, man!! Please!!”

That's when Jack hesitated. He could clearly hear it, the fear in the voice. The robber's eyes were also full of fear. Seeing and hearing the fear of another person, it affected Jack a lot more than he had bargained for. The way he was looked at was like how a victim of a terrible attack would look at the perpetrator. In other words, as if looking at a monster.

Jack's expression darkened. He didn't want to be viewed as a monster by the likes of this armed robber. This man was the villain, not him. The one with the gun was the true monster in this situation.

To reinforce and confirm his beliefs, Jack reached out and yanked the robber's ski mask off. The revealed face, however, showed a scared looking man in his early twenties. There were trails of tears and snot, some blood on his face, broken cheek bone, loosened teeth.

Underneath all that, no matter how hard Jack searched, the robber.... looked just like any other human being.

Jack was stunned into silence. He expected to see some evil, devilish countenance, a face so unforgivable and suitable for a criminal like him but not this, a plain face.

And for the briefest moment Jack's eyes wandered in denial, they caught the multiple, scattered and broken reflections of himself on the fallen bits of glass and artificially sweetened liquids on the floor, on the fridges, on the shelves.

To his horror, it was Jack who looked more like the monster between the two of them. There were streaks of blood all over his face where the window had cut him. His clothes were torn and cut, too. And there was a mess of unidentifiable things all over him, coloring him in a heady mix of dirt and a sickly rainbow.

Jack stumbled back up, trembling intensely at his own reflection. He could not recognize the face staring back. That creature was a deranged monster. No way in hell that could be him. It just couldn't be him.

He stood there, stupefied into silence. The robber was confused and was tilting his head. But he wasn't going anywhere, because there was a loud wailing siren of a police car in the distance, rapidly closing in.

A_Passing_Wanderer · Jun 14, 2017

Chapter 8

Before long, the front parking lot of the convenience store became a scene resembling the aftermath of a chaotic war zone – minus the destruction, of course.

There were half a dozen police cars, their sirens flashing non-stop. There were ambulances, a fire truck, and a crowd of curious on-lookers behind the barriers of yellow tapes. If there were snack vendors and local news reporting teams to the side, the whole area might have resembled a carnival.

Jack was sitting on the back of an ambulance, with a paramedic performing a simple treatment on his numerous superficial wounds – cuts and bruises he got from diving out of the window. Nothing too serious, and with the aid of the red soul reserve inside, he'd recover within hours, provided that he went to sleep soon.

As for Taylor, she sat on the open back seat of a patrol car, talking to a pair of plain-clothed detectives and explaining what had happened for what seemed to be the millionth time. Who knew that making a statement and all that could be this difficult.

He watched as the bespectacled girl sighed and slowly explained the situation to the aged, slightly potbellied cop and his equally aged partner for the umpteenth time. She was clearly fed up with saying the same things over and over again. The two cops displayed a certain level of empathy but, perhaps unsurprisingly, Jack couldn't really tell whether it was fake or genuine.

The contents of the story, the one she and Jack had agreed upon, was a simple one – the two of them were on a bicycle ride through the park and when they were done with that, they stopped by the store to use the bathroom, only to encounter the two armed robbers.

Luckily, Jack was able to tackle one of them into a shelf full of stuff, knocking him out. The second guy got spooked and after emptying the gun, he fled like his ass was on fire. That was the story. No more, no less. A few things were omitted, but otherwise, it was not made up of lies. Easy to remember, too – meaning, they'd be able to stick to it later on.

The paramedic dabbed some clear liquid on Jack's forehead to cleanse the wound, causing the teen to wince in a slight stinging pain. The medic chuckled apologetically and mouthed the word “Sorry” as he continued with his job.

Sighing, Jack turned to see the second ambulance with the other robber in it. He had suffered quite a lot of wounds, like broken bones and torn ligaments and the like. After the preliminary look-see was complete, the paramedics were ready to take the perp to the nearest hospital for a further treatment.

And as for the store's clerk, he was hanging on by a thread so he was already rushed away. He had lost a lot of blood apparently. All Jack could do now was to pray for him, although he wasn't particularly religious to begin with. There were Supers who were devout followers/believers of their chosen faiths, though.

The paramedic finished up and spoke to Jack that he'd be back in a jiffy before entering the back of the ambulance to do something. Jack didn't have enough energy to take a closer look, nor did he care, so that was that.

Instead, he fished out his phone and took a quick glance at the screen. Still no reply from either of his parents. He'd been trying to contact them for a while, but for some reason, his mother couldn't be reached, as if she was in an area where there was no network, which was odd.

And Bob was in the middle of an important meeting with a client and naturally, his phone was on automatic voicemail. Jack had to wait for a bit longer before he could get in touch. Sighing, Jack pocketed his phone and leaned against the frame of the ambulance, feeling just a bit dejected. He was worried about his sister, too, but didn't dare to call her because he just knew what kind of reaction Dana would have.

Taylor was far luckier with contacting her parent. Her dad immediately agreed to come over, which kind of made Jack a bit envious inside. However, it was also true that he felt worried as well, it was not like his mother to be unreachable. Even her office, the big pharmaceutical company, had no clue where she was, other than informing him that Min-jung was away on an urgent personal business.

Having gone through this one crappy ordeal after another, Jack was feeling just a bit paranoid. He hoped for nothing bad happening to his mom.

Also, he just wanted to go home and lie down for a while. It had been one exhausting day so far and he had very little mental energy left in him.

There was one more thing bothering him much – when he was near the dying clerk, he ended up, inadvertently, absorbing some amount of red soul oozing out of the wounded man. It was not a lot, but still, Jack was worried it might have some kind of negative consequences, for both himself and the clerk. One more reason to bury his head in the sand and pretend nothing was going on with him.

But he knew very well that was not how the world worked.

The words Taylor spoke the moments before the cops showed up still rang in his ears.

You should have moved. That man wouldn't have been shot if you acted faster, Jack.

He wanted to retort that her idea of him coming to the rescue was insane. He wanted to refute her logic but, seeing that he did end up taking an action after all meant that, maybe, she was right in the end. His body possessed the power to do so, even if it was the bare minimum required.

He looked at his hands. There was not a drop of blood on them anymore. They were regular hands. Innocuous, even. Jack touched his face with those hands to confirm that, indeed it was his face. The pale reflections of him on the ambulance's glass showed him, not the blood-soaked monster from before.

What the hell am I? Jack slowly touched his face again, a strange feeling of being unsure slowly creeping in. What am I turning into? What am I afraid of becoming? A monster?

He had no clue. He wished for someone to tell him. Tell him that there was nothing to be afraid of, that the future would be alright. That he just needed to take one step at a time.

The temptation to tell his parents welled up in him. He couldn't remember the initial reason for not opening up to them at all. Jack frowned, wondering just what kind of expressions Bob and Min-jung might make when they hear their son was a Super. And one with a very unusual set of powers at that.

As he was sitting on the back bumper of the ambulance continuously sighing and thinking all the unnecessary crap, he suddenly sensed a movement from up in the sky. His enhanced hearing played a key part in picking up the clues quickly.

When he raised his head, he saw a costumed figure carefully descending down from the sky. Jack could tell right away that a Super had come to take in the situation.

Narrowing his eyes, Jack carefully observed the unexpected arrival of this Super. He didn't recognize who this was supposed to be, but even now he could sense some type of unnatural ripples in the air as the Super slowly landed on the ground near the police cars. In other words, Jack was not a match to this guy. Not even close. The disparity of strength between the two was too vast. He wasn't sure how he could tell this fact, though – almost like an instinct acting up inside of him.

With his pale gray cape whipping in the wind – even though there wasn't one – the mask wearing Super scanned the lot before latching on the supervisor on the scene and gallantly strode over, his facial expression, what's visible of it anyway, solemn and serious.

There was a Greek alphabet Alpha written on his chest in gold which contrasted rather gaudily against his gray, armor-like costume. It wasn't at the level of irredeemable campiness but also was something Jack would never wear voluntarily on his own, not even for a million dollars.

He had a lengthy baton mounted on his hips and some kind of utility belt commonly seen on construction workers worn around his waist. He looked exactly like a comic book superhero come to life. But not in a good way.

The paramedic who was inside the ambulance peeked out at all the commotion, and when he recognized the Super, murmured in shock. “Holy cow, that's Alpha Man of the Scales of Justice. What's he doing here?”

The Scales of Justice, huh? Jack nodded inwardly after recalling the name of this group. Even someone like him had heard about this collection of Supers; many did. The SoJ, as they were known sometimes, consisted of the Supers who wanted to uphold the law and serve the society in the name of justice and all that. In other words, a bunch of altruistic, idealistic fools that the world desperately needed as a beacon of hope. Even if the said world was a cynical and corrupt one, deep down to its core.

Alpha Man spoke to the officer in charge of the scene for a brief moment before heading over to where Taylor was. She visibly stiffened up at the sight of a costumed hero before her but recovered enough to have a reasonable chat with him. Jack could see how nervous she was, and how awkward the atmosphere was.

Then it was his turn to talk to the Superhero. Alpha Man strode to where Jack was and smiled warmly as he extended his hand for a friendly shake.

“How are you holding up?”

His voice was a lot kinder than Jack expected it to be. Deeper, too. Quite a lot smooth as well, like a Jazz singer or something.

“Been better,” Jack shook his head slightly, frowning a little at the glare of the sunlight briefly reflected from one of Alpha Man's costume flourishes.

The two of them shook hands but as they parted, Alpha Man asked.

“Mmm. I have seen you from somewhere.... Oh!! You are Jack Mercer if I'm not mistaken.”

Jack smiled wryly. “Yeah, I am.” Normally, being recognized by a celebrity would be a cool thing to happen to any individual, but as he was currently, Jack couldn't help but think that it was all rather anti-climatic.

Unaware of such a line of thought in the teen's mind, Alpha Man simply looked at him with pity. “It's really terrible that you had to endure two ordeals like this. You have my sympathy, young man.”

Maintaining the wry smile, Jack nodded his thanks.

“You don't need to worry; We, the members of SoJ will work tirelessly to bring the perpetrator to justice. I, Alpha Man, guarantee it.”

Alpha Man stated his intent matter-of-factly. Jack realized that the Superhero in front of him was dead serious in saying this. Flabbergasted, he had to ask in a manner that was rather close to being a retort instead of a question.

“How would you do that?! The robber was wearing a ski mask. He got in a car and drove off to god knows where. He's probably long gone by now.”

“Due to your timely intervention, the police has successfully apprehended the other suspect. And I have a feeling that he will cooperate with the investigation in full. With his confession, finding his partner in crime is only a matter of time. I just know it!!” said Alpha Man. Again, he was dead serious, completely sincere with his words.

Jack blankly looked at the hero, not sure of what to say at the moment. Having nothing clever popping up, he instead simply agreed half-heartedly and nodded.

This gesture didn't please Alpha Man much, but he chose not to say anything. He was well aware of the hardships this young Mercer boy had to go through, so being reticent and dispirited wasn't too surprising for him in the least.

What troubled him the most, though, was that girl, Taylor. She was constantly on guard against him for some reason, as if she couldn't trust him. That slightly hurt this pride; after all, his image as the righteous man of justice was something he took a great deal of pride in. An image where even the most cynical man would wholeheartedly give his trust to. On top of that, it was not a facade but real him. So, when a person showed a dislike to this image, obviously it hurt.

And a teenage girl was showing a clear lack of trust in him. So yes, it hurt Alpha Man's pride a bit. Inwardly, he swore to track down the armed robber and bring the perp to justice.

The paramedic who was next to Jack hurriedly introduced himself and shook the Superhero's hand enthusiastically, bringing another wry grin on Jack's face.

The talk naturally flowed to the reasons why a Super like him would show up in a small scale armed robbery gone wrong like this.

“I was returning from an assignment when I saw the officers gathering here. I wanted to contribute by offering my skills, so here I am,” was Alpha Man's reply.

The paramedic's eyes went round and all sparkly from admiration.

Jack, on the other hand, saw it as a pure coincidence that a Super was passing by the right place and at the right time. Nothing to write home about.

Meanwhile, a vintage British luxury car drove up to the police cordon in a hurry. Taylor's eyes brightened for a moment as she stood up from the patrol car's open backseat.

A man in early forties exited the vintage car in a hurry. He was wearing what one would call a chauffeur's uniform – a black suit, matching gloves and a driving cap.

“Dad,” Taylor sighed weakly as the chauffeur ran up to her and embraced her.

“Holy cow, Taylor. You okay? You are not hurt, right? You had me so damn worried, girl.”

They remained like that for a good while before Taylor pushed him away. “Dad, your suit.”

She frowned as her hands smoothed down the creases on her father's suit carefully.

“Don't be silly, kiddo. That's what ironing is for.” Finn senior chuckled and lightly kissed Taylor's forehead. “Are we done here? Can I take you home now?”

He looked around and met his gazes with the detectives on the scene. The cops nodded, saying that they will be in touch after handing over a business card.

Alpha Man watched the tender reunion of a father and a daughter with a pair of warm eyes before turning to Jack. “What about your parents, Jack? Are they coming to get you?”

“I can't get a hold of them,” said Jack, shrugging his shoulders tiredly. “Don't worry about it. I'll hitch a ride home, somehow.”

Alpha Man nodded his consent before walking over to Taylor and her dad to introduce himself. Jack watched them chat, seeing how awestruck Taylor's dad was and couldn't help but think that maybe he was the abnormal one here for not getting all worked up after meeting a genuine Superhero.

After all the pleasantries were finished, Alpha Man made his way over to the robber, stretched out on the gurney and ready to be shipped off to a hospital. He was planning to interrogate the perp for more information but when he saw the terrible state of the man, naturally, he couldn't hide his shock.

The robber had so much of him broken, it would have been very, very difficult to pin this result down to a regular teenager riding on an irresistible burst of pure adrenaline. It wasn't entirely impossible, but the likelihood of it happening was literally one in a million.

The robber himself was too delirious from the effects of sedatives to answer his questions. That meant he had to review the closed-circuit camera footage inside the convenience store in order to solve this riddle.

Alpha Man raised his head and stared at Jack Mercer, watching the boy scratch the back of his head apologetically as he talked with Taylor's father. The Super hesitated, wondering to himself if it was wise of him to act rashly.

He whispered under his breath. “Could he be a Super? And he's not aware of it yet?”

His words were too softly spoken for anyone else to hear. But the serious expression visible from the gaps of his mask definitely told enough of a story for a passerby to not bother him at that moment.

Unaware of any strange thoughts towards him, Jack was busy apologizing to Taylor's father, David Finn, for putting her daughter through a bad ordeal.

“No need to apologize, Jack. It wasn't you who decided to rob that store after all. Right? The way I hear, you are the savior of the day, so that's something you should be proud of.”

David told the boy as the three of them drove on in his car. Naturally, David drove, while Taylor and Jack sat in the back seat.

“I... I sure don't feel like that, Mister Finn,” Jack shook his head. He still felt bad about this whole thing, unsure of anything at the moment – whether him stepping up would have made any difference at all at the end of the day. Not with his limited strength, anyway.

“That's not true. It took some real guts to do what you did. So, don't sell yourself short there.”

David smiled as he adjusted the sunglasses on his nose. He also rubbed his chin full of an unshaven but carefully groomed stubble.

Jack took another look at the man; he seemed younger than his age. Hell, he was certainly not what Jack was expecting in the first place. Plus, his outfit – it was definitely a chauffeur get-up.

Whatever David did for a living, Jack decided not to pry, because he could sense Taylor not wishing to cut the conversation short with a deep scowl on her face.

“So, uh, how did you meet Taylor? What's the story here?”

David asked as he gazed at Jack's reflection in the rear view mirror.

A figurative question mark floated above Jack's head initially before he realized the undercurrent of David's query.

“We go to the same school, dad,” Taylor quickly replied, not giving Jack time to say that there was nothing going on between the two of them.

“Really? That's nice,” chuckled David. “You know, it's the first time you showed up with a friend after entering that school. And with a boy, no less.”

“Don't worry, dad. We are just friends, that's all.” Taylor rolled her eyes as she refuted her father.

David simply smirked and spoke under his breath as if he was just letting out his own thoughts inadvertently. Meaning, for his passengers to hear it as well.

“Sure didn't look like that, though – jumping out in front of a gun to save you and all.”

“Dad!!” Taylor angrily punched David on his shoulder.

“Oh!! Ouch, kiddo. That hurts. What? Oh, you heard that? My bad.”

Even though he was apologizing, David continued to smirk.

Jack was left speechless. He wasn't sure how to explain his relationship with Taylor without tangling himself up in a web of lies. The way he saw it, David didn't seem to know his daughter being a Super. If he could help it, he didn't want to affect the dynamics of Finn family. If Taylor wanted to tell the truth, then the onus would be with her, not him.

So, for now, he had to let the misunderstanding brew on its own.

Taylor will probably correct it in the future. Probably. Right?

After putting this matter aside, Jack fell into a deep though, thinking about the way forward. Even though he was mentally tired, there were several things tumbling around in his head.

During his encounter with the wild coyote, for instance – how did he know where to strike, and precisely when? And just now, against the armed robber – how did he manage to land such a clean hit that would make a professional boxer green with envy?

Instinctively, he looked at his hands again. No blood there on them, still.

Could it be.... that dream – no, that memory of the.... past. Could my current weird condition have something to do with that?

His brows furrowed slightly as a strange thought began to creep up on him.

Wait, is it possible that I somehow regained the memories of my past life? Is that even possible? Reincarnation and all that? Scientifically, no it can't be. But how else do I explain what's happening to me?

The mere thought of this totally weirded him out, big time. The world might be filled with oddballs and Superheroes but there was a line that even Jack thought it couldn't be crossed. And these mystical things that couldn't be figured out by science were exactly where that line was drawn. Perhaps, he thought, this was because his mother happened to be a scientist.

Some of the abilities exhibited by the Supers around the world bordered on being magical. But they all had scientific explanations behind them. At least, no powers that could defy logical thinking were yet to show up.

Jack thought that was simply because such powers didn't exist to begin with.

Yet, he was already stepping onto something crazy already. There were the matters of red souls as well as his memories serving as the proof of this. What he was experiencing now could be rightfully called as mystical.

Jesus, how do I even begin to explain to my parents about this?! This is insane....

All Jack could do was sigh and massage his aching temples.

“What the?!”

David shouted out in surprise suddenly. Then, he slammed on the brakes and the vintage luxury car screeched to an abrupt halt. Both him and Taylor had worn their seatbelts so they were fine, other than having their breaths stolen from the belts tightening.

But for Jack, he didn't and his head painfully crashed into the back of the front passenger seat with a vengeance.

“What's going on, dad?!” Taylor asked in alarm, while Jack groaned in dizziness as he tried to take stock of the situation.

“Uh... that,” said David as he pointed at the road ahead.

Before them, three figures were blocking the way forward; a frail but handsome boy wearing glasses, an athletic-type girl with a good, tall physique, and another with an exotic countenance.

A new chapter.

Man, Leylin is such a scumbag, I just wanted to punch him in the face...

Edit (14th June):

Chapter 8: The Encounter

Before long, the front parking lot of the convenience store became full with lots of cars and a whole bunch of serious-looking people, resembling the aftermath of a chaotic war zone minus the usual destruction.

There were half a dozen police cars, their sirens silently flashing non-stop. There were ambulances, a fire truck, and a crowd of curious on-lookers that had magically appeared from somewhere, kept behind the barriers of yellow tapes, their smartphones working overtime as photos were taken constantly. If there were snack vendors and local news reporting teams to the side, the whole area might have resembled a carnival.

Jack was sitting on the back of an ambulance, with a burly African-American paramedic performing a simple treatment on his numerous superficial wounds – cuts and bruises he got from diving out of the window. Nothing too serious, and with the aid of the red soul reserves, he'd recover within hours, provided that he went to sleep soon. Thankfully, the small wounds didn't close up by themselves right in front of the paramedic; now that'd be quite awkward to explain.

Taylor was sitting on the open back seat of a patrol car, talking to a pair of plain-clothed detectives, explaining what had happened for the millionth time. Who knew that making a statement and all that could be this difficult?

Jack watched with a detached interest as she kept on sighing all the while slowly repeating the event to the aged, slightly potbellied cop and his equally aged partner for the umpteenth time. She was clearly fed up with saying the same things over and over again. The two cops displayed a certain level of empathy but, perhaps unsurprisingly, Jack couldn't really tell whether it was faked or genuine.

The contents of the story, the one she and Jack had agreed upon before the arrival of the cavalry, was a simple one: the two of them were on a bicycle ride to the park and when they were done with that, they stopped by the store to use the bathroom, only to encounter the two armed robbers.

Luckily, Jack was able to tackle one of them into a shelf full of stuff, knocking him out. The second guy got spooked and after emptying the gun, he fled as if his ass was on fire. That was the story. No more, no less. A few things were omitted, but otherwise, it was not made up of lies. Easy to remember, too – meaning, they'd be able to stick to it later on.

The paramedic dabbed some clear liquid, an antiseptic solution, on Jack's forehead to cleanse the wound, causing the teen to wince in a slight stinging pain. The medic chuckled apologetically and mouthed the word “Sorry” as he continued with his job.

Sighing, Jack turned to see the second ambulance with the other robber in it. Jack was surprised to learn that the bastard had suffered quite a lot of wounds, like broken bones and torn ligaments and the like. Jack was pretty sure of how strong he was, but the end result was out of his expectations. Hell, he seemed to have gotten stronger since the encounter with the coyote earlier, which made no sense. Just why did his strength gain several levels, even if it was only for split second? He just couldn't chalk it up to adrenaline. There was something more to it. Could it be the fault of that ethereal energy he felt during his showdown with the animal?

Anyways, after the preliminary look-see was complete, the paramedics were ready to take the perp to the nearest hospital for a further treatment. Whatever would happen to that guy, it was out of Jack's hands now. There was a slight worry that the perp might blab on about him being a Super and all that, but Jack and Taylor agreed that as long as the two of them maintained the same story, the perp's version wouldn't wash.

The store's clerk was hanging on by the proverbial thread after losing a lot of blood so he was already rushed away from the scene. All Jack could do for that guy was to pray for him, although he wasn't particularly religious to begin with. There were Supers who were devout followers/believers of their chosen faiths, though.

The paramedic finished up fixing Jack and said that he'd be back in a jiffy, before entering the back of the ambulance to do something. Jack didn't have enough energy to take a closer look, nor did he care, so that was that.

Instead, he fished out his phone and took a quick glance at the screen; still no reply from either of his parents. He'd been trying to contact them for a while, but for some reason or the other, both of them couldn't be reached. When Jack dialed Min-jung's number, the call went straight to the standardized automated voicemail, not the customized one, as if she was in an area where there was no network. That was bit odd, not to mention slightly worrying.

And Bob was in the middle of an important meeting with a client accompanied by his boss on a golf course. Naturally, his phone was off as well. Jack had to wait for a bit longer before he could get in touch. Sighing grandly, Jack pocketed his phone and leaned against the frame of the ambulance, feeling just a bit dejected. He thought about calling his sister but in the end, chose not to, because he just knew what kind of reaction Dana would have.

Taylor was far luckier with contacting her parent. Her dad immediately agreed to come over, which kind of made Jack a bit envious inside.

Envy aside, he wondered why his mother couldn't be reached at all in the middle of a Saturday. It wasn't like she was working on an urgent assignment or anything and had to rush to her lab. She did say she was going to see some old acquaintances and that she might be a little late coming home, but nothing about her phone being off at all.

This was not like her. Jack tried her office, the big pharmaceutical company, but the answer was not so good; they too had no clue where she was.

Having gone through this one crappy ordeal after another, Jack was feeling just a bit paranoid. He hoped for nothing bad happening to his mom.

The desire to go home and just lie down for a while grew so much, it was making him somewhat impatient. It had been one exhausting day so far and he had very little mental energy left to sustain him.

There was one more thing that greatly bothered him – when Jack was near the dying clerk, he ended up, inadvertently, absorbing some amount of red soul oozing out of the wounded man. It was not a lot, but still, Jack was worried it might have some kind of negative consequences, for both himself and the clerk. One more reason to bury his head in the sand and try to pretend nothing was going on with him.

But he knew very well that was not how the world worked.

The words Taylor spoke the moments before the cops showed up still rang in his ears.

You should have moved. That man wouldn't have been shot if you acted faster, Jack.

Jack wanted to retort that her idea of him coming to the rescue was insane. He wanted to refute her logic but, seeing that he did take an action after all, maybe she had a point, that she was right to blame his indecisiveness. His body now possessed the power, even if it was only the bare acceptable minimum required for a Super.

Jack looked at his hands. There was not a drop of blood on them anymore. They were regular hands. Innocuous, even. Jack touched his face with those hands to confirm that, indeed it was his face. The pale reflections of him on the ambulance's glass showed him, not the blood-soaked monster from before.

What the hell am I? What the hell is going on with me?! Jack slowly touched his face again, a choking, tightening feeling of being uncertain slowly creeping in. What am I turning into? What am I afraid of becoming? A monster?

He had no clue. He wished for someone to tell him. Tell him that there was nothing to be afraid of, that the future would be alright. That he just needed to take one step at a time.

The temptation to tell his parents welled up inside his heart like crazy. He couldn't remember the initial reason for not opening up to them. Jack frowned, worrying just what kind of expressions Bob and Min-jung would make when they hear their son was a Super. And one with a very unusual set of powers at that.

As he was sitting on the back bumper of the ambulance continuously sighing and thinking all these unhappy things, Jack suddenly sensed a movement from up in the sky. Once more, his enhanced hearing played a key part in quickly picking up the clues.

When he raised his head, Jack saw a costumed figure descending down from the sky. Jack could tell right away that a Super had come to take in the situation.

Narrowing his eyes, Jack carefully observed the unexpected arrival of this Superhero. He didn't immediately recognize who this was supposed to be, but even still, he could sense some type of unnatural ripples, fluctuations, in the air as the Superhero slowly landed on the ground near the police cars.

Jack's mind told him that, physically, he was no match for this guy. Not even close. The disparity of strength between them was just too vast. He wasn't sure how he could tell this fact, though. It was almost like a primal instinct, helping him recognize a superior predator so he could quickly run away if it came to that.

With his pale gray cape whipping in the wind – even though there wasn't any – the mask wearing Superhero scanned the lot before latching on to the supervising officer at the scene and gallantly strode over, his facial expression, what's visible of it anyway, solemn and serious.

There was a Greek alphabet Alpha etched on his chest armor in gold which contrasted rather gaudily against his costume's gray color scheme. It wasn't at the level of irredeemable campiness but also it was something Jack would never, ever wear voluntarily on his own, not even for a million dollars. Well, if someone offered a billion, then maybe, he could be persuaded to having a change of heart. Maybe.

The Superhero had a pair of matching, lengthy batons mounted on his hips and some kind of utility belt commonly seen on construction workers worn around his waist. He looked exactly like a comic book superhero come to life. But not in a particularly good way, not to Jack's sensibilities anyways. But his sudden appearance seemed to have sparked a huge commotion from the cops and the onlookers. Apparently, his preference was his alone, as everyone else seemed to unanimously approve of this get-up.

The paramedic who was inside the ambulance peeked out at after hearing all the commotion, and when he recognized the Super, murmured in shock. “Holy cow, that's Alpha Man of the Scales of Justice. What's he doing here?”

The Scales of Justice, huh? Jack nodded inwardly after remembering the name of this group. Even he had heard about this collection of Superheroes; many did.

The SoJ, as they were known sometimes, consisted of the Supers who wanted to uphold the law and serve the society in the name of justice and all that. In other words, a bunch of altruistic, idealistic fools that the world desperately needed as a beacon of hope. Even if the said world was a cynical and corrupt one, deep down to its core.

Alpha Man spoke to the officer in charge, exchanging lengthy words and waving his hands at the crowd before striding over to where Taylor was. She visibly stiffened up at the sight of a costumed hero but recovered enough faculty to have a reasonable chat with him. Jack could see how nervous she was, and how awkward the atmosphere became as a result.

Then it was his turn to talk to the Superhero. Alpha Man walked over to where Jack was and smiled warmly, extending his hand for a friendly shake.

“How are you holding up, son?”

His voice was a lot kinder than Jack expected it to be. Deeper, too. Quite smooth as well, like a husky Jazz singer drowning in bourbon or something like that.

“Been better,” Jack shook his head slightly, frowning a little at the glare of the sunlight briefly reflected from one of Alpha Man's costume flourishes.

The two of them shook hands but as they parted, Alpha Man asked.

“Mmm. I have seen you from somewhere before, haven't I? I'm sure of it. Oh, wait a minute!! You are Jack Mercer if I'm not mistaken.”

Jack smiled wryly. “Yeah, I am.”

Normally, being recognized by a celebrity would be a cool thing to happen to anyone, but as he was right now, Jack couldn't help but think that it was all just a little on the anti-climatic side of things.

Unaware of such thoughts percolating in the teen's mind, Alpha Man simply looked at him with pity. “It's really terrible that you had to endure two ordeals like this. You have my sympathy, young man.”

Maintaining the wry smile, Jack nodded his thanks.

“You don't need to worry; We, the members of SoJ and the police force, will work tirelessly to bring the perpetrator to justice. I, Alpha Man, guarantee it.”

Alpha Man stated his intent matter-of-factly. Jack realized that the Superhero in front of him was dead serious in saying this. Flabbergasted, he had to ask in a manner that was rather close to being a retort instead of a question.

“How would you do that?! The robber was wearing a ski mask. He got in a car and drove off to god knows where. He's probably long gone by now. Half way to Mexico, even.”

“Due to your timely intervention, the police has successfully apprehended the other suspect. And I have a feeling that he will cooperate with the investigation in full. With his confession, finding his partner in crime is only a matter of time. I just know it!!” said Alpha Man. Again, he was dead serious, completely sincere with his words.

Jack blankly looked at the hero for a second or two, before nearly spitting out another retort that it'd be the police, not him nor SoJ that would end up catching the bad guy instead, but held back before making a social faux pas. The paramedic was watching this exchange with glittering eyes right next to him, and that facial expression left Jack wry and speechless. Sighing, Jack simply agreed half-heartedly and nodded.

This defeatist gesture didn't please Alpha Man much, but he knew not to criticize the boy as he was now. He was well aware of the hardships this young Jack Mercer had to go through, so being reticent and dispirited wasn't too surprising a behavior to witness.

What troubled Alpha Man the most, though, was that girl, Taylor Finn. She was constantly on guard against him for some reason, as if she couldn't trust him fully. That slightly hurt this pride; after all, his image as the righteous man of justice was something he took a great deal of pride in.

Alpha Man went to a great length to ensure his image was of someone solid and dependable, someone who even the most cynical man would wholeheartedly give his trust to. In fact, that carefully cultivated image was actually not a facade but real him. That's how strived to live his life every day.

So, when a person showed a dislike to this image, it hurt. And a teenage girl was showing a clear lack of trust in him, in the image of Alpha Man. So yes, it hurt his pride a bit. Inwardly, he swore to track down the armed robber and bring the perp to justice. That'd show her that he could be trusted, that he was a righteous man of justice.

The paramedic who was next to Jack hurriedly introduced himself and shook Alpha Man's hand enthusiastically, bringing another wry grin on Jack's face.

The talk naturally flowed to the reasons why a Superhero like him would show up in a small scale armed robbery gone wrong like this.

“I was returning from an assignment when I saw the officers gathering here. I wanted to contribute by offering my skills, so here I am,” was Alpha Man's reply.

The paramedic's eyes went round and all sparkly from admiration.

Jack, on the other hand, saw it as a pure coincidence that a Superhero was passing by the right place and at the right time. Nothing to write home about there.

Meanwhile, a vintage British luxury car drove up to the police cordon. Taylor's eyes brightened for a moment as she stood up from the patrol car's open backseat.

A well-built man in early forties exited the vintage car in a hurry. He was wearing what one would call a chauffeur's uniform – a black suit, matching gloves and a driving cap. But hell, he looked sharp and neat, like some kind of a model.

A policeman tried to stop him from going beyond the police cordon but after explaining who he was, he got through. It didn't take long before he spotted his daughter.

“Dad,” Taylor sighed happily as the handsome chauffeur ran up to her and embraced her tightly.

“Holy cow, Taylor. You okay? You are not hurt, right? You had me so damn worried, girl.” The man spoke in a worried voice as he stroked her hair.

They remained in the tight hug for a good while before Taylor pushed him away.

“Dad, your suit.”

She frowned as her hands carefully smoothed down the creases on her father's suit.

“Don't be silly, kiddo. That's what ironing is for.” Finn senior chuckled and lightly kissed Taylor's forehead. “Are we done here? Can I take you home now?”

He looked around and met his gazes with the detectives on the scene. The cops nodded, saying that they will be in touch after handing over a business card.

Alpha Man watched the tender reunion of a father and a daughter with a pair of warm eyes before turning to Jack. “What about your parents? Are they coming to get you?”

“I can't get a hold of them,” said Jack, shrugging his tired shoulders. “Don't worry about it. I'll hitch a ride home, somehow.”

Alpha Man nodded his consent before walking over to Taylor and her dad to introduce himself. Jack watched them chat, seeing how awestruck Taylor's dad was and couldn't help but think that maybe he was the abnormal one here for not getting all psyched and worked up after meeting a genuine Superhero.

After all the pleasantries were finished, Alpha Man made his way over to the robber, stretched out on the gurney and ready to be shipped off to a hospital. He was planning to interrogate the perp for more information but when he saw the terrible state the man was in, he couldn't hide his shock.

The robber had so much of him broken. This level of damage would be very, very difficult to pin down on a regular teenager riding an irresistible burst of pure adrenaline to achieve. It wasn't entirely impossible, but the likelihood of it happening was literally one in a million.

The robber himself was too delirious from the effects of sedatives to answer his questions. That meant he had to review the closed-circuit camera footage inside the convenience store in order to solve this riddle.

Alpha Man raised his head and stared at Jack Mercer, watching the boy scratch the back of his head apologetically as he talked with Taylor's father. The Super hesitated, wondering to himself if it was wise to act rashly, based only on his gut feelings.

He whispered under his breath. “Could that boy be a Super? Maybe, he's not aware of it himself as yet?”

His words were too softly spoken for anyone else to hear. But the serious expression visible from the gaps of his mask definitely told enough of a story for a passerby to not bother him at that moment.

Unaware of any strange thoughts towards him, Jack was busy thanking Taylor's father, David Finn, for giving him a ride home. His bicycle was mounted onto a rack on the rear bumper of the car alongside Taylor's.

Once they got in the luxurious vintage vehicle, Jack began apologizing as well to David for putting his daughter through a rough ordeal. He thought it was the right thing to do under the circumstances.

“No need to apologize, Jack. It wasn't you who decided to rob that store after all. Right? The way I see it, you are the savior of the day, so that's something you should be proud of.”

David told the boy as he smoothly drove the car. Taylor and Jack sat in the back seat.

Jack was shocked at how quiet it was. Also, the ride quality was absolutely incomparable to either of his parents' cars. Even though they were moving, Jack couldn't feel it at all. As a matter of fact, his phobia of moving cars wasn't acting up as badly as before – so much so that he could remain much more composed than usual. He was glad about not showing his his weak side to Taylor or her dad.

David continued with his speech.

“Jack, it's not easy to make a life or death decision when you have a gun waved in your face. Only the bravest, toughest man can do that. I should know. So, today, you saved my daughter, you saved yourself, and maybe you even saved the future victims of that robber. You have every right to feel proud of what you have done.”

“I... I sure don't feel like that, Mister Finn,” Jack shook his head slowly.

The feeling of being unsure still gnawed at him. He couldn't tell whether him stepping up from the beginning would have made any difference at all after it was said and done. Not with his limited strength, anyway. He got lucky this time. Even Jack had to admit that fact.

“Oh, come on now, don't sell yourself short like that, Jack. Be more proud of your achievements. You did good today, and that's the end of the story.”

David smiled as he adjusted the sharp sunglasses on his nose. He also rubbed his chin full of an unshaven but carefully groomed stubble.

Jack took another look at the man; he seemed younger than his age. Hell, he was certainly not what Jack was expecting in the first place. Plus, his outfit – it was definitely a chauffeur get-up. But it was also at the same time, not really.

Whatever David did for a living, Jack decided not to pry. He recalled Cindy McAlister making fun of the profession David chose to earn money. It was a weird subject for him to approach, so he'd rather not.

“So, uh, how did you meet Taylor? What's the story here?”

David asked as he gazed at Jack's reflection in the rear view mirror.

A figurative question mark floated above Jack's head initially before he realized the undercurrent of David's query.

“We go to the same school, dad,” Taylor quickly replied, not giving Jack time to say that there was nothing going on between the two of them.

“Really? That's nice,” chuckled David. “You know, it's the first time you showed up with a friend after entering that school. And with a boy, no less.”

“Don't worry, dad. We are just friends, that's all.” Taylor rolled her eyes as she refuted her father.

David simply smirked and spoke under his breath, as if he was inadvertently letting out his own inner thoughts. Meaning, for his passengers to hear it as well.

“Sure didn't look like that, though – jumping out in front of a gun to save you and all.”

“Dad!!” Taylor angrily punched David on his shoulder.

“Oh!! Ouch, kiddo. That hurts. Hey, watch, it. I'm still driving here. What? Oh, you heard that? My bad.”

Even though he was apologizing, David continued to smirk.

Jack was left speechless, but in a good way. He wasn't sure how to explain his relationship with Taylor without tangling himself up in a web of lies. The way he saw it, David didn't seem to know his daughter was a Super. If he could help it, he didn't want to affect the dynamics of the Finn family. If Taylor wanted to tell the truth, then she would find the right time to do just that. Jack shouldn't even figure into this equation, like, at all.

So, for now, he had to let the misunderstanding brew on its own.

Taylor will probably correct it in the future. Probably. Right?

After putting this matter aside, Jack fell into a deep thought, thinking about the way forward. Even though he was mentally tired, there were several things tumbling around in his head, now that there was some peace and quiet. His phobia was staying hidden, the ride was buttery smooth, and the pleasant banter between Taylor and her dad was oddly relaxing to listen to. His mind soon settled, finding a good little space to contemplate and organize. Might as well take the advantage of it, then.

He thought back to his encounter with the wild coyote. How did he know where to strike, and precisely when? And just now, against the armed robber – how did he manage to land such a clean hit that would make a professional boxer green with envy? After that, how did he predict the bullet's path and duck in time?

Before he knew it, Jack was looking at his hands again. No blood there on them, just some bandages and stuff.

Could it be.... that dream – no, that memory of the.... past has done something to me? Could my current weird condition have something to do with that?

His brows furrowed slightly as a strange thought began to creep up on him.

Wait, is it possible that I somehow regained the memories of my past life? Those memories, manifesting as dreams, are now changing my body and giving me these otherworldly reflexes? That man in my dreams was an incredible Super, as if he was.... a demigod or something incredible like that. Am I... inheriting his battle knowledge and his powers?

But is that even possible? Reincarnation and all that? Scientifically, no, it's not. But how else do I explain what's happening to me?

The mere thought of this totally weirded him out, big time. The world was indeed filled with oddballs and Superheroes but there was a line that even Jack thought couldn't be crossed. And these mystical things that couldn't be figured out by science were exactly where that line was drawn. Perhaps, he thought, this was because his mother happened to be a scientist.

Some of the abilities exhibited by the Supers around the world bordered on being magical, but they all had some sort of scientific explanations behind them, as preposterous and almost improbable as they sounded sometimes. So far, no powers that could defy the scope of “logical” thinking had shown up. Jack thought that was simply because such powers didn't exist to begin with.

Yet, here he was, stepping onto something crazy and difficult to explain. The red souls of the dead and his memories of the distant, unrecorded historical past served as the proof of how limited his line of thinking was. What he was experiencing right now could be rightfully called mystical, supernatural.

Jesus, how do I even begin to explain this to my parents?! Absolutely insane....

All Jack could do was sigh and massage his aching temples. He unbuckled his seat belt, after feeling the material chafing into his chest via ruined shirt. That proved to be another piece of bad timing on his part.

“What the?!”

David suddenly shouted out in surprise and he slammed on the brakes. The vintage luxury car screeched to an abrupt halt. Both him and Taylor had left their seatbelts on so they were fine, other than having their breaths stolen from the belts tightening around their torso.

But for Jack, he wasn't so fortunate and his head painfully crashed into the back of the front passenger seat with a vengeance.

“What's going on, dad?!” Taylor asked in alarm, while Jack groaned in dizziness as he tried to take stock of the situation.

“Uh... that,” said David as he pointed at the road ahead.

Before them, three figures were blocking the way forward; a frail but handsome boy wearing glasses, an athletic-type girl with a good, tall physique, and another with an exotic Oriental countenance.

A_Passing_Wanderer · Jun 14, 2017

Chapter 9

Taylor let out a shocked gasp as soon as her perceptions locked onto the three teens blocking the road.

“Supers!! All of them are Supers!!”

Jack snapped out of his daze and focused on the front. Seeing the three mysterious figures, suddenly he was beset with this strange incongruity that he couldn't explain right away. It was as if he somehow knew them. Or, at least, supposed to know them. It made no sense as he was pretty sure he had never met them before.

And then, there was the body language of the trio.

Not only Jack, but even Taylor and her father thought something was not quite right here. The difference was that Jack's awakened instincts were telling him there was a massive crisis about to begin and the cause was the three teenage Supers on the road.

Jack unconsciously gulped. Nerves were acting up.

The athletic girl glanced at the glasses-wearing boy to her side and asked. “Is that him?”

“Mm. Should be. You can feel it too, don't you?”

Erik, Lei and Cleo nodded to each other slowly.

Meanwhile, as the premonition of something bad happening got stronger, Jack hastily shouted. “Mister Finn, back up the car!! We need to leave, right now!!”

“Huh? Wh... right, good idea.”

Finn Senior replied, about to engage the reverse.

Then the shape of Cleo blurred. She moved so fast, it only left behind an afterimage, although Jack could barely catch it within his peripheral vision.

Cleo grabbed the impressive, upright grille of the vintage luxury car with both hands. Grinning like a maniac, she then began to lift the car.

In a manner of seconds, she clean-lifted the weighty automobile with ease. Maintaining her grin, she observed the occupants inside curiously. What she saw was the faces of panicked and shocked people.

Frowning slightly, Cleo lightly tossed the car to a side. The impact was immense even if her actions were casual in nature.

The car bounced and rolled on the asphalt with vengeance, until it crashed into a parked car with a bang, setting off a chain of alarms in the vicinity.

Cleo grimaced as the unwelcome symphony of shrill noise filled the air.

“Noisy!! Lei, do something, will ya?!”

Cleo complained loudly. Lei, the Oriental girl, sighed and shook her head. Without saying anything, she lifted a battered and scratched first-gen iPod out of her pocket – where an earphone cord was still attached, with the said earphones connected to her ears.

Her fingers swiped on the round touchpad for a couple of seconds, before several almost-imperceptible arcs of blue lights shot out from the aged device, landing on the cars with their alarms going off in tandem. With a comical fizzle, all those noisy alarms died out in an instant.

“Happy?” Lei asked sarcastically.

“Yeah!!” Cleo grinned innocently.

Meanwhile, in the vintage luxury car, the world had turned upside down, because the car was on its roof. Both Taylor and her father had worn the seatbelts so they were not thrown around, but Jack wasn't so fortunate. His wounds had reopened, blood was flowing out, and the smashed, broken glass bits were continuously cutting into his skin.

On the flip side, he was not confined to his seat and was currently groaning on the ceiling of the car that had now become the floor.

His head was spinning like crazy from that experience. Now he knew what it felt like to be laundry stuck inside a tumble dryer. And boy, did it not feel particularly good. Not at all.

Brushing away the bits of glass away from his face, Jack hurriedly asked the other two passengers. “You guys, are you alright?”

Taylor groaned. “Do we look alright to you?! Gosh, I'm stuck!! What about you, dad?”

David moaned weakly, his replies indistinct. Jack grabbed the front passenger seat to pull himself up in the cramped and crumpled interior, only to see Finn Senior who was unconscious and bleeding heavily from a cut somewhere in the head.

Jack quickly felt for his pulse and breathed a sigh of relief when he sensed the blood pumping in the veins.

“Your dad's knocked out cold. He's in a bad shape. We gotta get him to a hospital!!” Jack shouted as he tried to free him from the confines of broken seatbelt.

Taylor became frantic after hearing that David was wounded. “Damn it!! This stupid thing.... Oh, god. Jack, they are coming!! Can you help me get out?”

Jack was having trouble trying to free David at the moment – yet when he heard Taylor, he peeked outside the car, and indeed, the three Supers were leisurely walking towards them. The situation was turning critical.

The intense foreboding became only thicker in Jack's heart. At this rate, he was not going to live through the day.

What the hell do they want? Is it Taylor? Or could it be me? Could it even be Mister Finn? That can't be – he's unrelated to this. Whatever this is. It has to be either me or Taylor.

Jack's mind furiously spun, trying to understand and formulate a strategy for his survival.

As far as I can tell, no one knows Taylor's secret. But as for me, my recovery speed after the incident was way too fast. There's bound to be someone out there suspicious of that. With a little investigation, my own secret could have been exposed!! If that's the case, then what now?!

Jack gritted his teeth. He could not come up with a good way to survive at all. There wasn't enough time for that. Then, a flash of an idea rose up.

Right!! Alpha Man!! He's not too far. As long as the news of the Supers causing the ruckus here, he will show up!! With all that car alarms going off, surely the residents here would've called the cops by now!!

A grim determination filled Jack's eyes as he now understood what he needed to do.

Right, all I have to do is stall for time. At least for a few minutes.

Jack felt like a desperate fool but since he had no choice, he had to act now. He turned to look at Taylor and solemnly told her.

“You need to get your dad and yourself out of here and call for help. I'll stall for time until Alpha Man arrives. He should still be nearby.”

Her face paled, but, after regaining her composure, she nodded quickly. “Hey, Mercer, do me a favor – don't die yet, okay?”

Jack smiled wryly, before proceeding to open the bent backdoor of the car. It didn't want to budge, so he ended up kicking at it, hard. As the result, the latch broke in half, and the door flung open on the first try, even surprising himself.

He crawled out of the upside down car with some difficulty and had to ignore the cries of pain from his own body. Every one of his muscles ached, all the small cuts bleeding incessantly.

But now that he was out of the car, he could better see the three Supers before him.

Wiping the trace of blood trickling down onto his right eye, Jack looked at the three, who had stopped advancing and stood a good dozen feet away from him.

“I don't know who you guys are, but mind telling me what's this all about?”

Jack asked as the bitter taste of blood registered in his mouth.

The three looked at each other as if trying to come to an agreement. Then with a single nod, the glasses-wearing boy stepped forward and spoke.

“It's like this. About a month ago, we felt.... you, waking up.”

A chill ran down Jack's spine. Feeling helpless, he asked, his voice rather sounding dumb for some reason. “I'm sorry? You what?”

“Hmm. It's hard to explain. We're not sure of ourselves. But... here's the thing. There's this discord, a strange wavelength, coming off you that makes us want to fight you.”

Jack's face darkened. He wanted to groan out loudly and say something about this absurd reason. But he wasn't an idiot – this, whatever this was, it was seriously dangerous. But there was a silver lining to this situation – that he was the target. As long as he moved away from here, Taylor and her father would be alright.

He clenched his fists tightly and addressed the trio. “Well, that's too bad, 'cuz I'm not interested in fighting you or whatever. Right now, I'm really tired. I just want to go home and get some rest. So, do you mind just calling it a day and moving on? Please?”

While saying this, Jack slowly inched away from the wreckage of the car. It was measured, painfully slow but he didn't want to make the other party react too suddenly.

Cleo tilted her head in confusion, while Lei and Erik looked at each other, somewhat conflicted as well. But that was for only a brief moment.

By the time Jack got to the second car, Erik frowned slightly and ordered Lei next to him.

“Stop him, Lei.”

She sighed and shook her head as if she thought this was all a massive waste of her time. She manipulated the touchpad on her iPod again, then a single wisp of blue light shot out from the device, headed straight to the car Jack was leaning on.

The door nearest to him snapped open like a spring-loaded trap and blocked his attempt at inching away. Jack felt a waterfall of sweat suddenly developing on his back.

So, the tall girl is the muscle, the one named Lei has powers to manipulate.... electronics? What about the guy with glasses?

Knowing at least a bit about the enemy's abilities was a big help. Now he could make some kind of contingency plan accordingly. His first priority was to distance himself away from the upside down car, taking the three assailants' attention away from its occupants and solely focused on him.

Taking a deep breath, Jack took a long, hard look at the boy, Erik, and asked. “I'm guessing this....” He tapped the open door with his knuckles. “....Means a no?”

Erik nodded. “Sorry. We came a long way, risking awful lot just to come and meet you to confirm something important. So, yeah – no, we can't call it a day just like that. Not yet.”

It was an expected answer. Jack didn't hesitate; he quickly turned around and by utilizing his slightly improved agility, jumped over the car's hood and dashed behind the row of cars.

“He's getting away!!” Cleo shouted loudly before chasing after him.

Lei rolled her eyes and groaned. “I hate this, Erik.”

Erik held a cramped smile. “What can we do? We came all this way so we don't have a choice. Let's go.”

The two ran after Jack as well.

But the chase itself didn't last too long, as Cleo demonstrated her superiority in speed over Jack's own. She closed the gap in a matter of seconds, jumping over a car's roof to block Jack's path.

But he was counting on that and timed his own jump over the vehicle next to him. So, when Cleo landed grandly on the ground, Jack had landed on the other side of the parked cars.

“Eh? Where did he go?!” Cleo dazedly spun her head around, trying to locate him, only to see him run past her on the other side. This infuriated her somewhat. “You slippery little...”

The very first thing she did was to punch a hole in the car's side, then picking it up. She then used the said car as a baseball and threw it in an arc towards where Jack was heading.

His intuition went crazy in that moment of deadly crisis. He didn't have to look back to see a gray-colored family hatchback just became a deadly payload shot out of a catapult aimed only at him and nothing else.

However, once more, his body knew what to do. He instantly twisted on his axis, dodging the thrown vehicle with only millimeters to spare. The car then slammed into other parked vehicles on the opposite side of the street with a vengeance.

Jack was dumbfounded at the scene, and then quickly felt horrified. If he got hit by that, then forget about having an open casket funeral.

Jack's intuition kept on throwing the alarm bells, so he didn't dally any longer and dashed forward, trying to put some more distance between him and the crazy but super-strong girl. His direction was towards where he came from – or, more correctly, where the convenience store was. He just hoped that Alpha Man was still there. A slim hope, but a hope nevertheless.

Cleo threw another car in a fit of rage. She saw how he dodged the car and was secretly flabbergasted at the display of Jack's movement. Even she couldn't have pulled that off.

Jack dodged the second car with a room to spare – her aim was a little off.

“Hey!! What are you doing, Cleo?!”

Erik and Lei finally caught up to the rampaging girl and tried to stop her when she went for the third car to throw.

“Huh? What do you mean, what am I doing? I'm trying to stop him, you know!!”

Cleo was clearly confused at the reactions of her friends so she tilted her head. It was seeing her like that as she already had a car hoisted above her.

“Are you trying to destroy the entire town?! Alert the whole world?! Stop before you do more damage!!”

Erik angrily shouted at her.

“Then what am I supposed to do?! He's a crafty bastard, that one, you know!!” Cleo shouted back exasperatedly.

“Well, you are faster than him, so chase him down,” Lei said as she tried to steady her breathing. “You can do that, right?”

Cleo frowned unhappily but turned on her heels and dropped the car with a thud. Then she crouched, her leg muscles bulging. She pounced forward like an exploding bullet. The asphalt below her feet broke apart violently as her body was catapulted forward.

In a literal blink of an eye, Cleo's explosive burst of speed allowed her to overtake Jack. Stunned, he stopped in his tracks, which was a mistake.

She reached out to grab him. Jack saw her movements, reading from the way her shoulder and arm muscles flexed and tensed, something he couldn't really explain how he could, but he did anyways.

He knew how to counter the movements, her attempts at grabbing him. The big issue here, though, was not that he could see and tell, it was the slow reaction times his body could only manage.

Jack tried to dodge out of her grasps, but it simply wasn't enough – Cleo easily found a sure grip on his shirt and with another burst of strength, tossed him lightly over.

Of course, he screamed.

His shocked cries only ended when he landed on the hood of a parked car with a heavy thud. All the air in his lungs violently escaped, feeling like ripping his chest into shreds in the process. All his bones seemed to crack from that simple throw.

Somehow, he was able to keep his consciousness and was able to roll off the damaged car, landing face first on the pavement. Groaning, he got up, but before he could react, Cleo was there. She shoved him in the chest, causing Jack to fly backward and skid on the harsh asphalt for a good few feet. His back burned like hell.

Jack kept his eyes open the whole time through sheer force of will. He watched as a confident grin grew wider on Cleo's face. She seemed to be enjoying this. Well, he sure wasn't.

He had to do something, anything to persevere until the help arrived. He didn't know when it would arrive, but it would come regardless. That much he was certain of.

And sure enough, just as Cleo walked around the obstructing car between her and him, a figure began to descend down from the sky.

Jack briefly squinted his eyes under the glare of harsh late afternoon sunlight, but he was seriously feeling relieved the moment he heard the familiar voice shouting “Halt!! Stop this destruction of private property!!”

Cleo's eyes narrowed as she watched Alpha Man stand before her. She couldn't really tell whether this guy was serious or not, solely because of his get-up.

But whatever, the help had indeed arrived. Just in time, too.

“Can you stand, Jack?” Alpha Man asked without turning back.

Jack pulled himself up with some difficulty but he was standing so that was something. “Yeah, but be careful. There are two others. One can manipulate electronics, I think. As for the other one, I'm not so sure.”

Alpha Man nodded. “Don't worry. The back-up is coming.”

“Good, because there are a couple of people who need the medical attention back there,” said Jack as he clutched his aching side, sensing that maybe something was broken there.

“Dunno who you are, mister, but this doesn't concern you, so back the hell off,” growled Cleo as she approached Alpha Man in a confident stride.

Immediately, he was on alert. He could tell this teenage girl was physically quite strong, maybe even as strong as a certain member of SoJ.

“No, young lady. This does concern me. Please cease and desist. Hand yourself over to the police peacefully.”

Alpha Man spoke with a solemn voice as he reached for the baton on his waist. He was not taking any chances here after seeing the carnage on the scene.

Cleo snorted derisively and pounced. She was extremely quick, taking Alpha Man by surprise. However, the veteran had fought other law-breaking Supers before. He knew how to react in this situation.

He figured out the trajectory of her movement the moment she dashed forward. All he had to do was swing his baton at the right angle.

Then, there was the solid connection between the reinforced material and Cleo's body. She was blown away by her own momentum and the guile of the seasoned Superhero.

She landed hard on the side of a parked car, lifting it off the ground for a couple of inches. She held her head as if it was going through a dizzy spell. “Ouch, that hurt.”

Jack could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel here. He was now saved. He could finally relax for a second.

It was then Erik and Lei finally arrived on the scene. As soon as they did, Erik's face darkened. “Alpha Man, a member of the Scales of Justice. A registered Superhero. Damn, how did he arrive so quickly?”

“Hey, Erik, do something, will ya,” Cleo groaned from the side of the car. Clearly, she was hurting from the impact as she stood up gingerly while holding her left shoulder.

Erik nodded and glanced at Jack before taking his glasses off. Jack suddenly had a bad premonition when his eyes met with Erik's. He felt like something was going to happen and it wasn't going to be in his favor.

Alpha Man too took guard against the new arrivals, carefully observing the pale boy and the Oriental girl next to him. And when the boy took off his glasses, Alpha Man knew the boy's powers must have a correlation with his eyes.

So, he immediately jumped back, trying to get to a safe distance before an attack came his way. Too bad it wasn't the type of attack he thought it could be.

The moment their eyes were locked, Alpha Man felt all his strength drain out of him. He couldn't even keep his balance and started to falter. If Jack wasn't there to support the man, he'd have crashed down on the ground.

“Hey, get a hold of yourself!!” Jack desperately shouted at the Superhero. This was not what he expected to happen. The help was rendered helpless within seconds and the danger was yet to pass over. This was bad.

Cleo was getting up, trying to swing her left arm. She winced a little but was able to move her limb fine. “Whew, that hurts but I think nothing's broken, so yeah, it's all good. You really surprised me there, mister.”

There was a venom in her voice which made Jack shudder. He looked at Alpha Man and to his shock, Jack saw that the both of the Superhero's eyes had turned milky white with no irides in them. There was foam bubbling on the corners of his mouth, too. This was getting worse still.

Erik hurriedly put the glasses back on, his face paler than before. “Hey, Cleo – let's finish this quickly. There will be more of other Supers coming this way now.”

“Got it,” nodded Cleo and she quickly approached Jack, reaching out to grab him again.

Once more, he saw it; the way her muscles moved, telling him what her intentions were, and how to avoid being in a disadvantageous position. Gritting his teeth, he tried to move – but as usual, his speed was just too slow compared to her. She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up.

When this happened, Jack's intuition had changed from avoiding being grabbed to how to free himself from her grip. His hands shot up and lightly circled around Cleo's wrists, before locking onto her joints and brushing it away.

Confusion was written large on her face as she lost all control of her own arms before Jack tossed her as he knelt forward on one knee. It was a picture perfect Aikido throw that even a master of the famed martial art would applaud for how flawless its execution was.

She landed heavily on the ground but seemingly didn't take much damage from that as she bounced right back up without missing a beat. Still, confusion dominated her face, not sure of what just had happened. Not only her but so did everyone there, too – especially Jack.

But he had a moment of clarity then – if his strength and speed were lacking, then he'd best his opponents using techniques. As to just what techniques he'd use, well....

His body, his instincts, knew them already.

Cleo came at him again. And she was fast; Jack could barely keep up.

But the moment she was able to grab him, he somehow dislodged her grip and threw her off her feet. Again and again. It was like a weird dance between two well-practiced dancers.

By the fourth time she was thrown around, Cleo snapped in anger. Her face crumpled and one or two veins were popping on her forehead. Both Erik and Lei were watching from the side, stunned and amused at the same time by this turn of events.

Cleo decided she had enough of this “trying to grab him” crap, immediately going for a powerful shove instead. But even then, Jack read it. And he tilted his chest just enough to negate most of the blow. Still, he was flung back, but he could manage the aftermaths without dying, which was a good news.

It only served to infuriate Cleo even more, though, seeing that Jack was, relatively speaking, fine and was standing on his two feet unaided. She pointed at him and angrily accused him of cheating.

“Hey!! I dunno what you are doing, but stop it!! I hate cheaters, you know!!”

Jack could only smile bitterly. Even though it looked like he was having an upper hand, in truth, he was barely hanging on. His energy was almost at the rock bottom; his entire body ached; his muscles were screaming from the overexertion. Worse still, he couldn't completely avoid that last shove. He felt like that one of his ribs must have cracked from the impact.

The situation was not getting any better.

“They are coming,” said Lei as she tapped Erik on his shoulder. “We need to decide now, Erik.”

The glasses-wearing boy sighed and nodded. “Fine. Cleo, let's wrap this up. We'll take him with us.”

“But I can't even grab him, you know?!” Cleo angrily stomped on the ground, leaving an indentation of her foot on the hard asphalt. Seeing that power, Jack felt another cold sweat running down his spine.

“Take me where, exactly?” Jack frowned, now much more cautious than before.

“....Well, you'll see when we get there,” replied Erik.

“And if I refuse?” The bitter smile remained on Jack's lips, but now, it was tinged with grim determination.

Erik sighed again. “Look – I've seen enough from this exchange. You are.... related to us. I don't know how, or why yet. But I'm intending to find out. Aren't you at least a bit curious as to why we could feel your presence? That why you can do what you just did against Cleo?”

Erik stepped forward and offered his hand.

“Come with us and maybe, just maybe, you will be able to figure it out.”

It's 2 AM here. I need to sleep....

Edit (14th June):

Chapter 9: The Choice

Taylor let out a shocked gasp as soon as her perceptions locked onto the three teens blocking the road out in front of the car.

“Supers!! All of them are Supers!!”

Jack snapped out of his daze at the outburst and focused on the front. Seeing the three mysterious figures, suddenly he was beset with this strange incongruity, one that he couldn't quite explain. It was as if he somehow knew them. Or, at least, supposed to know them. Of course, such a notion made no sense as he was pretty sure of never meeting the three before. He'd have remembered.

And then, there was something about the body language of the trio.

Not only Jack, but even Taylor and her father thought something was not quite right here. There was a small difference between them, however; Jack's awakened instincts were telling him that there'd be a massive crisis about to unfold and the cause of that chaos was going to be the three teenage Supers blocking his way.

Jack unconsciously gulped. He felt hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

The athletic girl, Cleo, glanced at the glasses-wearing boy, Erik, to her side and asked. “Is that him?”

“Mm. Should be. You can feel it too, don't you?”

Erik, Lei and Cleo slowly nodded to each other in unison.

Meanwhile, as the premonition of something bad happening got stronger, Jack hastily shouted at David. “Mister Finn, back up the car!! We need to leave, right now!!”

“Huh? Wh... right, good idea.”

Finn Senior replied, and engaged the reverse gear.

The shape of Cleo blurred. She moved so fast, it only left behind an afterimage, although Jack could barely catch her within his vision.

Cleo grabbed the impressive, upright grille of the vintage luxury car with both hands. Grinning like a maniac, she then began to lift the car up in the air. The metal creaked and shuddered as the most unnatural scene ever witnessed by the passengers transpired right before their shocked eyes.

In a manner of seconds, she clean-lifted the weighty automobile with ease. Maintaining her grin, she observed the occupants inside curiously. What she saw was, of course, the faces of panicked and gobsmacked people.

Unconcerned in the least, Cleo lightly tossed the car to the side. The impact was immense even if her actions seemed quite casual at a glance, like swatting a fly away or something like that.

The car bounced and rolled on the asphalt with vengeance, until it crashed into a parked car with a thunderous bang, setting off a chain of alarms in the vicinity.

Cleo grimaced as the unwelcome symphony of shrill noises filled the air.

“Noisy!! Lei, do something, will ya?!”

Cleo complained loudly. Lei, the Oriental girl, sighed and shook her head as if it was a bother. Without saying anything, she lifted a battered and scratched first-gen iPod out of her pocket – where an earphone cord was still attached, with the said earphones connected to her ears.

Her fingers swiped on the round touchpad for a couple of seconds, before several almost-imperceptible arcs of blue lights shot out from the aged device, landing on the cars with their alarms going off in tandem. With a comical fizzle, all of those noisy alarms died out in an instant.

“Happy?” Lei asked sarcastically.

“Yeah!!” Cleo grinned innocently.

Meanwhile, in the vintage luxury car, the world had turned upside down, because the car was actually on its roof. Both Taylor and her father still had their seatbelts on so they avoided being thrown around, but Jack wasn't so fortunate in that regard.

His wounds had reopened, blood was seeping out of almost everywhere, and the smashed, broken glass bits were continuously cutting into his skin. On the flip side, he was not confined to his seat in the upside down position like the others, and was currently groaning on the ceiling of the car that had now become the floor.

Jack's head spun like crazy from that experience. Now he knew what it felt like to be laundry stuck inside a tumble dryer. And boy, did it not feel particularly good. Not at all.

Fighting the rising urge to vomit, Jack brushed away the bits of glass away from his face. Then he hurriedly asked the other passengers. “Hey, are you guys alright?”

Taylor groaned softly, still trapped in her seat and unable to move. “Do we look alright to you?! Gosh, I'm stuck!! What about you, dad?”

David moaned weakly, his replies indistinct. Jack grabbed the front passenger seat and pulled himself up in the crumpled, messy interior, only to find Finn Senior unconscious and bleeding heavily from a cut somewhere in the head. Because he was upside down in the driver's seat, his arms were hanging limply on his sides, his sunglasses rolling around on the ceiling, broken.

Jack quickly felt for his pulse and breathed a sigh of relief when he sensed the blood pumping in the veins.

“Your dad's knocked out cold. He's in a bad shape. We gotta get him to a hospital!!” Jack shouted as he tried to free him from the confines of broken seatbelt. The buckle frame was bent at a weird angle and was difficult to pull free.

Taylor became frantic after hearing that David was wounded. “Damn it!! This stupid thing.... Oh, god. Jack, they are coming!! Can you help me get out of this?!”

Jack was having trouble trying to free David at the moment, but after hearing Taylor's desperate cries, he peeked outside the car. Indeed, the three Supers were leisurely walking towards them, a certain domineering swagger evident in their strides. The situation was rapidly turning critical.

The intense foreboding became only thicker in Jack's heart. If his premonition was correct, then he was not going to live to see the end of the day. He needed to do something, and do it urgently.

What the hell do they want? Is it Taylor? Or could it be me? Could it even be Mister Finn? No, that can't be; he should be unrelated to this, whatever this is. It has to be either me or Taylor that they want.

Jack's mind furiously spun, trying to understand and formulate a strategy for his survival.

As far as I can tell, no one knows Taylor's secret. But as for me, my recovery speed after the incident was way too fast. There's bound to be someone out there suspicious of that. With a little investigation, my own secret could have been exposed!! If that's the case, then what now?! What do they want with me?

Jack gritted his teeth. He could not come up with a good way to survive at all in this short amount of time he had.

It was then, a spark was lit inside; an idea came to him.

Right!! Alpha Man!! He's not too far. As long as the news of the Supers causing the ruckus here, he will show up!! With all that car alarms going off, surely the residents here would've called the cops by now!! Yes, that's it!!

A grim determination filled Jack's eyes as he now understood what he needed to do.

Right, all I have to do is stall for time. At least for a few minutes. Then that Superhero will come. I need to bet everything on this!!

Jack felt like a desperate fool but since he had no choice, he had to act now. He turned to look at Taylor and solemnly told her.

“You need to get your dad and yourself out of here and call for help. I'll stall for time until Alpha Man arrives. He should still be nearby.”

Her face paled but, after regaining her composure, she nodded quickly. “Hey, Mercer, do me a favor – don't die yet, okay?”

Jack smiled wryly, before proceeding to open the bent backdoor of the car. It didn't want to budge, so he ended up kicking at it, hard. As the result, the latch broke in half, and the door flung open on the first try, even surprising himself.

He crawled out of the upside down car with some difficulty and had to ignore the cries of pain from his own body. Every one of his muscles and bones ached, all the small cuts bleeding incessantly and ceaselessly screaming for his attention.

After standing up and out of the damaged car, Jack could better see the three Supers before him.

Wiping the trace of blood trickling down onto his right eye, Jack looked at the three, who had stopped advancing and stood about dozen feet away from where he was.

“I don't know who you guys are, but mind telling me what's this all about?”

Jack asked as the bitter taste of blood registered in his mouth. He spat the accumulated blood out onto the pavement, hoping no tooth would accompany that discarded saliva. Thankfully, nothing such came out. Jack could still give off a toothy grin if he wanted to.

The three looked at each other as if trying to come to an agreement. Then with a single nod, the glasses-wearing boy, Erik, stepped forward and spoke.

“It's like this. About a month ago, we felt.... you, waking up.”

An inexplicable chill ran down Jack's spine. Feeling dazed at the unexpected answer, his lips moved on their own, his voice sounding rather dull-witted.

“I'm sorry? You what?”

“Hmm. It's hard to explain. We're not sure of it ourselves. But... here's the thing. There's this discord, a strange wavelength, coming off you that makes us want to.... well, in the case of my friend Cleo here, fight you.”

Jack's face darkened. He felt like groaning out loudly while saying something smart and insightful about the absurd reason Erik gave him. But he was no idiot; this situation, whatever this was, it was seriously dangerous.

But as ever, there was a silver lining to this situation, and that was him being their sole target. As long as he moved away from here, Taylor and her father would be alright.

He clenched his fists tightly and addressed the trio. “Well, that's too bad, 'cuz I'm not interested in fighting you or whatever. Right now, I'm really tired. It's been a long day, you see. I just want to go home and get some rest. So, you mind just calling it a day and please move on? How about it?”

While saying this, Jack slowly inched away from the wreckage of the upside down vintage car. It was measured, painfully slow but he didn't want to make the other party react too suddenly.

Cleo tilted her head in confusion, while Lei and Erik looked at each other, somewhat conflicted as well. But that was for only a brief moment.

By the time Jack got to the second car, Erik frowned slightly and ordered Lei next to him.

“Stop him, Lei.”

She sighed and shook her head as if she thought this was all a massive waste of her time. She manipulated the touchpad on her iPod again, then a single wisp of blue light shot out from the device, headed straight to the car Jack was leaning on.

The door nearest to him snapped open like a spring-loaded trap and blocked his attempt at inching away. Jack felt a waterfall of sweat suddenly developing on his back.

So, the tall girl is the muscle, the one named Lei has powers to manipulate.... electronics? What about the guy with glasses?

Someone once said knowing the enemy's abilities was a vital ingredient to achieving success in the battlefield. But to Jack, it didn't seem like a useful advice right at this point. He could make some kind of contingency plan against Lei, but what about Cleo and the glasses boy?

Jack glanced at the car, remembering his original goal, that of stalling for time until the help could arrive. He had to distance himself away from here, taking the three assailants' attention away from its occupants and solely focused on him.

Taking a deep breath, Jack took a long, hard look at the boy, Erik, and asked. “I'm guessing this....” He tapped the open door with his knuckles. “....Means a no?”

Erik nodded. “Sorry. We came a long way, risking an awful lot just to come and meet you, to confirm something really important to us. So, yeah – no, we can't call it a day just like that. Not yet.”

It was an expected answer. Jack no longer hesitated. He quickly turned around and, by utilizing his slightly improved agility, jumped over the car's hood and dashed away behind the row of parked vehicles.

“He's getting away!!” Cleo shouted loudly before chasing after him.

Lei rolled her eyes and groaned. “I hate this, Erik.”

Erik held a cramped smile as he shook his head. “What can we do? We came all this way so we don't have a choice. Let's go.”

The two ran after Jack as well.

But the chase itself didn't last too long, as Cleo demonstrated her superiority in speed over Jack's own. She closed the gap in a matter of seconds, jumping over a car's roof to block Jack's path.

But he was counting on that and timed his own jump over the vehicle next to him. So, when Cleo landed grandly on the ground, Jack had landed on the other side of the parked cars. It was an inspired bit of improvisation, if he could say so himself.

“Eh? Where did he go?!” Cleo dazedly spun her head around, trying to locate him, only to see Jack run past her position on the other side. This infuriated her somewhat. “You slippery little...”

The very first thing she did was to punch a hole in the car's side, then picking it up. She then used the said car as a baseball and threw it in an arc towards where Jack was heading.

His intuition went crazy in that moment of deadly crisis. He didn't have to look back to see a gray-colored family hatchback flying towards him like a deadly payload shot out of a catapult, aimed only at him and nothing else.

However, once more, his body knew what to do. He instantly twisted on his axis, dodging the thrown vehicle with only millimeters to spare. The car then slammed into other parked vehicles on the opposite side of the street with a vengeance. The ensuing destruction was catastrophic in scale. Even the most sturdy-looking cars were blown away from the impact. No grand explosions, though. That was only in a Summer blockbuster, not in reality.

Jack was dumbfounded at the scene of carnage, and then quickly realized in deep horror that if he were to get hit by another one of those projectiles, then he should forget about having an open casket funeral. Hell, the coroner might have to scoop Jack off the floor with a spatula if he wasn't careful.

Jack's intuition kept on ringing the alarm bells, so he didn't dally any longer and dashed forward, trying to put some more distance between him and the crazy but super-strong girl. His direction was towards where he came from – or, more correctly, where the convenience store was. He just hoped that Alpha Man was still there, or already on his way here. A slim hope, but a hope nevertheless.

Cleo threw another car in a fit of rage. She saw how he dodged the car and was inwardly flabbergasted at the display of Jack's agile movement. Even she couldn't have pulled that off. That peeved her a little bit.

Jack dodged the second car with a room to spare – her aim was a little off this time thanks to her agitation.

“Hey!! What are you doing, Cleo?!”

Erik and Lei finally caught up to the rampaging girl and tried to stop her when she went for the third car to throw.

“Huh? What do you mean, what am I doing? I'm trying to stop him, you know!!”

Cleo was clearly confused at the reactions of her friends so she tilted her head. Normally, some might say that's cute, but that was impossible to say now, what with a car hoisted above her head, ready to be thrown.

“Are you trying to destroy the entire town?! Alert the whole world?! Stop before you cause more damage!!”

Erik angrily shouted at her.

“Then what am I supposed to do?! He's a crafty bastard, that one, you know!!” Cleo shouted back, exasperated.

“Well, you are faster than him, so chase him down,” Lei said as she tried to steady her breathing. “You can do that much, right?”

Cleo frowned unhappily but turned on her heels and dropped the car with a thud. Then she crouched, her leg muscles bulging. She pounced forward like an exploding bullet. The asphalt below her feet violently broke apart as her body was catapulted forward.

In a literal blink of an eye, Cleo's explosive burst of speed allowed her to overtake Jack. Stunned, he stopped in his tracks, which was a mistake.

She reached out to grab him. Jack saw her movements, reading the way her shoulder and arm muscles flexed and tensed, something he started doing for the first time when facing that coyote. He still couldn't explain how it worked nor why he could do it, but now wasn't the time to complain.

Jack knew how best to counter the movements, her attempts at grabbing him. The big issue here, though, was not that he could see and tell, it was more to do with the slow reaction times his body could only manage. Just like when he was with the coyote, or the robber's gun.

Jack tried to dodge out of her grasps, but it simply wasn't enough – Cleo easily found a sure grip on his shirt and with another burst of strength, tossed him lightly over. Jack's already tattered shirt ripped even further as he flew in the air, his arms and legs comically waving about.

Of course, he screamed.

His shocked cries only ended when Jack landed on the hood of a parked car with a heavy thud. All the air in his lungs violently escaped, feeling like ripping his chest to shreds in the process. All his bones seemed to crack from that simple throw.

Somehow, he was able to keep his consciousness and was able to roll off the damaged car, landing face first on the pavement. Groaning, he got up, but before he could react, Cleo was there. She shoved him in the chest, causing Jack to fly backwards and skid on the harsh asphalt for a good few feet. His back burned like hell.

Jack kept his eyes open the whole time through sheer force of will. He watched as a confident grin grew wider on Cleo's face. She seemed to be enjoying this. Well, he sure wasn't.

He had to do something, anything to persevere until the help arrived. He didn't know when it would arrive, but it would come regardless. That much he was certain of. It had to.

And sure enough, just as Cleo proudly walked towards him, triumphant in her victory, a figure began to quickly descend from the sky.

Jack briefly squinted his eyes under the glare of harsh late afternoon sunlight, but he felt a powerful wave of relief the moment he heard the familiar voice shouting out the words “Halt!! Stop this destruction of the private property!!”

Cleo's eyes narrowed as she watched Alpha Man stand before her. She couldn't really tell whether this guy was serious or not, solely because of his get-up. Even Jack was slightly embarrassed at the Superhero's costume, but whatever, the help had indeed arrived. Just in time, too.

“Can you stand, Jack?” Alpha Man asked without turning back.

Jack pulled himself up with some difficulty, but grinned weakly as he righted his aching torso. “Yeah, but be careful. There are two others. One can manipulate electronics, I think. As for the other one, I'm not so sure.”

Alpha Man nodded. “Don't worry. The backup is coming.”

“Good, because there are a couple of people who need the medical attention back there,” said Jack as he clutched his aching side, sensing that maybe something might be broken there.

Alpha Man grimly glanced into the distance, noticing the upside down car. His expression took on a darker shade after recognizing it. “Get to a safer place, Jack. It will get messy from now on!!”

Hell, you don't have to tell me twice!! Jack sighed inwardly, as he began to force his weary and hurting body to walk away.

“Dunno who you are, mister, but this doesn't concern you, so back the hell off,” growled Cleo as she approached Alpha Man in a confident stride.

Immediately, he went on a high alert. He could tell this teenage girl was physically quite strong, maybe even as strong as certain members of SoJ.

“No, young lady. This does concern me. Please cease and desist. Hand yourself over to the police peacefully. Do not make your punishment worse by resisting me.”

Alpha Man spoke with a solemn voice as he reached for the batons on his waist. He was not taking any chances here after seeing all the damage done to the area.

Cleo snorted derisively and pounced. She was extremely quick, taking Alpha Man by surprise. However, the veteran Superhero had fought other powerful lawbreakers on multiple occasions before. He knew how to react in these types of situations.

He predicted the potential trajectory of Cleo the moment she dashed forward. All he had to do was swing his batons at the right angle and at the right time.

There was the solid connection between the reinforced material and Cleo's body. She was blown away by her own momentum and the guile of the seasoned Superhero.

She landed hard on the side of a parked car, lifting it off the ground for a couple of feet. Stuck inside the twisted metal, Cleo held her head as if it was going through a dizzy spell. “Ouch, that hurts.”

Jack could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel after witnessing that quick exchange of moves. He was now saved, without a doubt!! He could finally relax for a second.

It was then Erik and Lei finally arrived on the scene. As soon as they did, Erik's face darkened unhappily. “Alpha Man, a member of the Scales of Justice. A registered Superhero. Damn, how did he arrive here so quickly?”

“Hey, Erik, do something, will ya,” Cleo groaned from the side of the car. Clearly, she was hurting from the impact as she gingerly stood up while holding her left shoulder.

Erik nodded and glanced at Jack before taking his glasses off. Jack suddenly had another bad premonition when his eyes met with Erik's. He felt like something was going to happen and it wasn't going to be in his favor.

Alpha Man also took guard against the new arrivals, carefully observing the pale boy and the Oriental girl next to him. And when the boy took off his glasses, Alpha Man realized that the boy's powers must have a correlation with his eyes.

So, he immediately jumped back, trying to get to a safe distance before an attack came his way. Too bad it wasn't the type of attack he thought it could be.

The moment their eyes were locked, Alpha Man felt all his strength drain out of him. He couldn't even keep his balance and started to falter. If Jack wasn't there to support the man, he'd have crashed down on the ground.

“Hey, get a hold of yourself!!” Jack desperately shouted at the Superhero. This was not what he expected to happen. The help was rendered helpless within seconds and the danger was yet to pass over. This was bad.

Cleo was getting up, trying to swing her left arm. She winced a little but was able to move her limb just fine. “Whew, that hurts but I think nothing's broken, so yeah, it's all good. You really surprised me there, mister.”

There was a venom in her voice which made Jack shudder. He looked at Alpha Man and to his utter shock, both of the Superhero's eyes had turned milky white with no irides in them. There was foam bubbling on the corners of his mouth, too. This was getting worse still, by the looks of things. He gasped desperately, wondering when the mentioned backup would arrive.

Erik hurriedly put the glasses back on, his face paler than before and his eyes bloodshot. In fact, there was a hint of a nosebleed as well. “Hey, Cleo – let's finish this quickly. There should be more of other Superheroes coming this way and very soon at that.”

“Got it,” nodded Cleo and she quickly approached Jack, reaching out to grab him again.

Once more, Jack could see it, the way her muscles moved, telling him what her intentions were, and how to avoid being in a disadvantageous position.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to move in the way that gave him the most advantage, but as usual, his speed was just too slow compared to her. She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up.

When this happened, Jack's intuition had changed from avoiding being grabbed to how to free himself from her grasp. His hands shot up and lightly circled around Cleo's wrists, before locking onto her joints and effortlessly brushing it away.

Confusion was written large on her face as she lost all control of her own arms, before Jack lightly tossed her away, while kneeling forward on one knee. It was a picture perfect Aikido throw that even a master of the famed martial art would applaud for how flawless its execution was.

She landed heavily on the ground. But she seemingly didn't take much damage from the unexpected throw, as she bounced right back up without missing a beat. Still, confusion dominated her face, not sure of what just had happened. Not only her, but so did everyone else present here – including Jack.

But he had a moment of clarity then. If his strength and speed were found lacking as a result of possessing lower specs, then he'd best his opponents using techniques. As to just what techniques he'd use, well....

His body, his instincts, knew the right ones already.

Cleo came at him again. And she was faster; Jack could barely keep up.

But the moment she was able to grab him, he somehow dislodged her grip and threw her off her feet. Again and again. It was like a weird dance between two well-choreographed dancers.

By the fourth time she was thrown around, Cleo snapped in anger. Her face crumpled and one or two veins were popping on her forehead. Both Erik and Lei were watching from the side, stunned and bemused at the same time, by this strange turn of events.

Cleo decided that she'd had enough of this “trying to grab him” crap, immediately going for a powerful shove instead. But even then, Jack read her intentions correctly. He tilted his chest just enough to negate most of the blow. Still, Jack was flung back from the force, but managed the aftermaths without dying, which was a good news.

It only served to infuriate Cleo even more, though, seeing that Jack was, relatively speaking, fine and was standing on his two feet unaided. She pointed at him and angrily stomped on her feet.

“Hey!! I dunno what you are doing, but stop it!! I hate cheaters, you know!!”

Jack could only bitterly smile. Even though it looked like he was having an upper hand, in truth, he was barely hanging on. His energy was almost at the rock bottom; his entire body ached; his muscles were screaming from the overexertion. Worse still, he couldn't completely avoid that last shove. He felt like that one of his ribs must have cracked from the impact.

The situation was not getting any better for him.

“They are coming,” said Lei as she tapped Erik on his shoulder. “We need to decide now, Erik.”

The glasses-wearing boy sighed and nodded. “Fine. Cleo, let's wrap this up. We'll take him with us.”

“But I can't even grab him, you know?!” Cleo angrily stomped on the ground again, leaving an indentation of her foot on the hard asphalt. Seeing that power, Jack felt another cold sweat running down his spine.

“Take me where, exactly?” Jack frowned, cautiously observing the trio, trying hard not to topple over from fatigue and pain.

“....Well, you'll see when we get there,” replied Erik.

“And if I refuse?” The bitter smile remained on Jack's lips, but now, it was tinged with grim determination.

Erik sighed again. “Look – I've seen enough from this exchange. You are.... related to us. I don't know how, or why yet. But I'm intending to find out. Aren't you at least a bit curious as to why we could feel your presence? That why you can do what you just did against Cleo? I know you have burning questions in your heart. I can sense them. Don't you want answers to them?”

Erik stepped forward and offered his hand.

“Come with us and maybe, just maybe, you will be able to figure this out. Get some answers, find the way to move forward in the future. What do you say?”

aueneg · Apr 20, 2017

I'm a bit curious... Do you have like some schedule when you post chapter or is it random?

A_Passing_Wanderer · Jun 14, 2017

Chapter 10

On the opposite side of the continent, an airplane was flying towards the runways of the famed JFK International airport. It was a regular commercial flight, replete with tourists looking to soak in the American culture, maybe catch the sight of a Super or two; businessmen coming back from a risky venture abroad, or those wanting to find an opportunity to make a big buck; students wishing to further their academic careers; and other sorts of people, all with their own dreams and wants for being here.

Among those, there was one man. Other than a gentle smile on his handsome, Southern Mediterranean face, there was nothing remarkable about him. His clothes, his height, his hair color – nothing about him stood out from the crowd.

As the plane's captain alerted the passengers aboard his flight of the impending taxing on the runway, and how he was thankful for the company, this man glanced at the airport through the small, round window. He saw numerous aircraft in the various state of movement – busy unloading passengers and cargo, busy loading passengers and cargo, busy taking off, busy landing – the array was dizzying, to say the least, if one was a first-time flyer.

“Finally...”

He whispered softly. His face was calm, but there was a glint of anticipation flickering in his eyes as he swept his gaze on the visible architecture of the airport.

The plane touched down without a drama; a sharp but distant squeak from the tortured tires kissing the tarmac; a slight lurch of the inertia.

As soon as the exits were opened, the passengers stretched their cramped limbs and began to eagerly retrieve their luggage from the overhead compartments; this man was no exception. He only had to pull out a single bag, though – a single, black, regular-sized gym bag with no identifiable markings on it. But the way he hefted it – there was some weight hidden within. His muscles flexed under the shirt as he carefully hoisted the bag as if it was the most important thing in the entire world.

He walked past the smiling stewardesses – or the flight attendants, as they wanted to be known nowadays – while returning a warm smile of his own; and made his way smoothly to the immigrations without encountering any obstacles. All the way, he checked out the brash but colorful posters lining the walls and the ceilings, loudly advertising the candidates who were running in the upcoming local election.

There were other, equally eye-catching posters plastered there too, like the one about an anti-hair loss shampoo, or a certain famous soft drink beverage. Another one, about the upcoming blockbuster from Hollywood, with its square-jawed protagonist looking out into the distant unknown, face full of a contemplative grimace.

Of course, there was one particular poster that caught his attention more than the others; it was about an exhibit scheduled to open in the world-famous Metropolitan Museum of Art. Seeing this poster, the man's face brightened just a little bit more, revealing a row of perfect teeth under a charming smile, his dark green eyes glittering like a pair of jewels.

He stood behind a line, waiting for his turn to clear the customs. To ward off the boredom from creeping up on him, he decided to observe the people standing in front of him, behind him, all around him. He soon discovered that, indeed, there were a lot of different faces and body shapes in the world. Him included, of course.

“Next,” said the customs officer. The man smiled and took his place, pulling out his passport and handing it over the counter. The officer was an African American woman in her forties. She had a face of someone who had been on the job for a very long time; tired but wizened at the same time.

She received the passport and checked the front. It was issued by the Greek government, brand new. Flipping it open, she saw the photo of the smiling man and his details. She began scanning his information on the computer terminal and began asking him the standard questions.

“Purpose of your visit to the United States of America, Mister Gavalas?”

The man smiled widely. “Art. Arcane, ancient art. There's an exhibition scheduled to open in a few days. I'm here for that.”

The officer nodded. “Oh, I heard about that one. I heard that it's kind of a big deal. So, it's for pleasure, then, Mister Gavalas?”

“You can call me Nico. And well, it's a bit of both – for pleasure, and for business. Either way, I'm excited to be here.”

She nodded and glanced at the monitor to check the progress of the database search; a minute later, the result came back as negative. Nico Gavalas was not a wanted man, nor did he forge his papers, at least not according to what was recorded.

She then asked him to place his gym bag on the conveyor belt that fed into the scanner, and for him to step through the gray full-body scanner himself. Still smiling, he complied and loaded the heavy bag gently on the stationary belt before walking through the scanner. The result was that... he was fine. No problematic items on his person whatsoever.

But, as soon as the bag entered the scanning machine, the customs officer's face changed color. She quickly stopped the machine and signaled to her partner, standing next to the scanner. Then, she turned to face Nico and slowly asked.

“Sir, can you tell us what's inside the bag?”

Her right hand reached towards the gun holster located on her hip while her left held onto a black baton, her movements practiced and her eyes alert – watching out for any untoward, suspicious behavior from the man before her.

“Oh, that?” Nico chuckled amiably. “I didn't want to show him to anyone just yet, but if you insist, then please, allow me.”

He casually approached the bag and began carefully unzipping it. Then, he spread open the mouth of the bag, revealing a slab of stone and a pale golden skull. There was nothing besides the two, not even a toothbrush. At a glance, the skull looked to be an ordinary human bone – besides its odd color, obviously – but there was a symbol of some kind carved into the forehead area and the incisors were unusually sharp as well. But the air of ancientness coming off the skull was unmistakable, even to a layman.

As soon as the overhead light hit the said skull, it began to radiate a blinding yet completely bizarre aura. This strange aura carried a strong, disgusting energy that when a person came into contact with it, he or she began to feel sick immediately. No one was spared, not even the customs officers. But they bravely held on, sweat beads forming on their foreheads.

“Aren't they beautiful?! So, so incredible!!” Nico proclaimed in the unadulterated reverence. His face was full of wonder, joy and even a hint of mad fervor.

The officers were left completely dumbfounded. They have seen people trying to smuggle in money, drugs, weapons and even pets but this.... this was something totally new, leaving them unsure of what to do next. But they still had basic training to fall back to, if all else was exhausted.

So, as a precaution, they drew their firearms and pointed at Nico. But their aims were not steady at all; they faltered ever so slightly as the effects of that bizarre light took hold.

The African American officer found her voice first and loudly shouted at Nico. “Sir, please step away from the items. I won't repeat this warning. Step away from the unknown items!!”

“Unknown items?!”

Suddenly, Nico's face fell. A cold, crazed gleam began to burn in his eyes as a chilly sneer formed on his lips. It was not because be found what she said funny, no – it was because of a barely-contained fury bubbling under his skin.

“He's not an item!! And he's only unknown, because of you people fail to understand the true history of this planet, this world!! It's only unknown, because the abominable heathens sitting on the thrones of power have hidden the truth from all of you!!”

The crazed light in his eyes became stronger as he stepped forward towards the customs officer. She frowned, finding it harder to concentrate, trying her best to ignore the nauseating feeling still invading her like a worm from the bizarre skull.

Her aim only wavered for a second; her vision grew blurry. Her finger slipped and landed on the trigger. Yet, no shots went off. Alarmed, she focused on the gun – only to find that, instead of the government-issued Glock, she was holding a book with a faded cover.

She recognized it almost instantly – it was her favorite. She got through a very rough patch of her childhood thanks to this book. But it didn't make a whole lot of sense for her to hold this right at this moment.

Ignoring the officer's confusion, Nico continued to bellow loudly as if he wanted everyone present to hear him.

“It's only unknown, precisely because you are all a flock of sheep allowing yourselves to be fooled!!”

The sneer became colder, more domineering. Nico proudly scanned the crowd that had gathered around him; airport security officials and curious onlookers with their thumbs busily moving on their phones, taking the photos of what's been transpiring, so they could share it on the various social media outlets with meaningless emojis at the end of each asinine posts.

“But now he's come!! He's here to reclaim what's rightfully his!! You just wait and watch; the world will come to see the true history!! I swear it!!”

Nico then placed his palm on the stone slab. Originally, it was featureless and smooth, its edges worn down. Yet, the moment he touched it, strange, arcane symbols began to wriggle into life, glowing in the similar pale golden light as the skull.

“Sir!! Step away!!”

The African American officer finally decided to do something. She disregarded the confusion in her heart and reached out, grabbing Nico on his shoulder. Her aim was to pry him off the bizarre slab and thus stop whatever was happening from, well, happening further.

But when her eyes met Nico's, she felt like all of her blood froze on the spot out of sheer terror.

He no longer had eyes. Instead, there were two empty sockets that were quickly filling up with blood. Soon, this blood overflowed out of the sockets and began to wash down on his face, down to his neck, down to his shoulders and chest.

She had no time to react; the blood got on her hand too fast. She pulled back but that blood was on her, moving up alongside her arm, dyeing it in pure crimson.

She tried to scream, but the blood entered her mouth, her nostrils, her ears, even her eyes, thus drowning her ability to voice out her terror.

From the outside, it looked like she was going through a seizure. But her eyes had turned blood red, and blood oozed out of the corners of her mouth. She then collapsed where she stood with a heavy thud. Her lips opened and closed repeatedly, but no sound came out.

The bizarre golden light from the skull suddenly took on a purplish hue. It was still golden but now laced with a tinge of purple, making it even more bizarre. One could even swear that the skull actually began to move on its own as the light intensified.

Not only that, the strange writings on the stone slab wriggled even more violently as if to break out of their stone imprisonment. The writings became brighter, bigger, more corporeal.

The crowd began to panic after sensing that something was terribly wrong. They began to spread out in a disorganized fashion, trying to get away as quickly as possible.

It was a step too late, however. When the wriggling letters on the stone slab met with the purple-gold light from the skull, an explosion of blinding light erupted, completely engulfing the entirety of the airport.

The light permeated into every nook and cranny, sparing no one – not even one soul. Hiding behind a wall was no use – the light simply snaked past the edges, opening, gaps and found its way to attack a living creature. It didn't matter whether that was a person or a mouse, a plant or a bird.

Every creature was swallowed up in the purple-golden light.

And when the light finally subsided, there was only a single person left standing; a madly smiling Nico Gavalas.

~

In the meantime, Jack Mercer was at a crossroad, yet again.

To his back, a car on its roof with its occupants currently trapped inside.

To his front, three Supers his age, politely requesting that he accompany them some place.

What should I do?!

Jack asked repeatedly in his mind. But as ever, a satisfying answer proved to be elusive, just tantalizingly beyond his grasp.

Erik, perhaps sensing Jack's reluctance, took a step forward and pointed at the car with Taylor and her dad still inside.

“Look, if you're worried about them, we'll help you to free the two. Lei here can contact the emergency services so they can receive help. This way, there won't be anything else to worry about.”

Jack checked the body language of the three. The glasses-wearing boy looked earnest. The muscle girl, Cleo, seemed slightly bored with all the talking, while Lei seemed busy, her fingers darting over the ancient iPod like a hummingbird.

He knew in his heart that there was only one way out – to do as they say. He couldn't last against the incredible strength of Cleo, nor could he contend with the strange power of Erik. Nor was he confident of escaping from whatever Lei could do. If they wanted him to accompany them somewhere, then that was that, no argument necessary.

Jack sighed and slowly nodded. “Okay, fine. But please help my friends first. Then I'll go with you.”

Erik smiled faintly. “A wise choice. By the way, I'm Erik. That's Lei, and this idiot here is Cleo. And you are?”

“Hey!! Who you calling an idiot?!” Cleo angrily stomped her feet and glared at Erik, who simply shrugged his shoulders and ignored her.

Jack didn't see the funny side, though. Instead, he simply answered, “It's Jack.”

“Alright. Jack, it is. Cleo, please help our friend here,” said Erik as he glanced at the athletic girl. She made an “oh, well” kind of a face before lightly bounding towards the upside down vintage car.

Alarmed slightly at the sudden burst of speed, Jack hurriedly went after her. It'd be a no laughing matter if either Taylor or her father got taken as an extra insurance.

Jack pushed his aching and tired body to run but his chest, with its cracked ribs, didn't make it easy. Trying to breathe alone was too painful a reminder of how weak he was. Even though he gritted his teeth and forced his body to move, Jack wasn't making any headway at all. Eventually, he felt like giving up, to rest and not give a damn about anything.

Seeing him like this, Erik turned to Lei and asked her. “I think we need a transport. Can you arrange it?”

She nodded nonchalantly and glanced around the rows of parked cars. Their commotion meant there were witnesses now, watching from the distant sidelines and not wanting to get involved with whatever shenanigans there were.

Lei picked up a fairly new and nondescript family sedan; she then did her thing with the iPod, letting an arc of blue light emerge from the device before it sunk under the hood of the car. And just like that, the vehicle came to life – the engine, the headlamps, the doors, all of them activated on their own.

Wordlessly, they entered the car – Erik in the passenger's side, Lei behind the wheels – and like magic, the car began to drive on its own, creeping to where Jack was trying to catch his breath while clutching his chest down the few yards.

“Get in,” said Erik after the car stopped next to Jack.

Jack hesitated briefly, before climbing on the backseat. But he didn't forget to ask. “Hey, you know how to drive? Surely, you don't have a driver's licence yet.”

Lei continued to fiddle with her iPod, not even bothering to raise her head. “It's fine. I've logged hundreds of hours in Forza.”

That's a goddamn video game!! Jack almost blurted out impulsively before realizing that the car was moving on its own, with no input whatsoever from Lei or Erik. The wheel turned on its own, the gas pedal and the brake all moved without anyone touching them. Even the gears shifted by themselves. Watching that was ever so slightly unsettling.

The car settled next to where Cleo was. She had already extricated the vintage luxury car from the mess of the mangled wreckage and righted it. Next, she simply grabbed the twisted door and yanked it loose, chucking the now-useless metal away. She reached in and did the same yanking thing with the broken belt buckle, freeing David Finn from the seat.

Taylor, of course, was screaming at her. “Hey!! What the hell are you doing?! Let him go!!”

Cleo retorted back. “What does it look like I'm doing? I'm helping him, you know? Gosh, you're so noisy.”

She lightly carried unconscious David and propped him on the side of a nearby vehicle.

“Hey, don't come near me, I can get out myself!!” Taylor shouted as she began to struggle against the belt buckle.

Cleo lightly snorted. “Hah, whatever, girl.”

Ignoring the frantic Taylor, Cleo simply snapped the buckle off the frame and that was that.

Now that she was free from the confines, Taylor ignored her own injuries and rushed to where her dad was. She hurriedly dialed 911 on the smartphone as her fingers checked for his pulse, confirming that he was still alive.

Cleo shrugged her shoulders and climbed next to Jack in the car, her eyes narrowing as she peered over at his pale face. “I wanna know how you did what you did, you know? I'm gonna find out ve~ry soon.”

Her face got real close to his, making him feel mighty uncomfortable. He was literally surrounded by the enemies with no way to escape and such a close proximity with the muscle of the group only served to confound things even more.

Jack chose to do the only thing he could do here and ignored Cleo. Instead, he leaned outside the window towards Taylor.

“I'm going with them. No choice in the matter. Take care of your dad – and uh....” Jack hesitated on what he wanted to say next. It was not an easy decision to make, but at the same time, seemed like a no-brainer. Finally making up his mind, Jack sighed deeply. “And please contact my family. Tell them I'll be alright. You can... tell them everything I told you.”

Taylor hid her shock, choosing to simply nod. She understood Jack's decision well enough – no point in trying to second-guess him at this stage. “You take care of yourself, okay? And.... I'll find you. That much, I can promise you.”

Jack grinned bitterly at that.

The car drove off with the four of them, heading towards downtown.

And as the car hummed and clunked softly from the undulations on the road, Jack found himself gripping the rear armrest hard once more. His phobia of moving vehicles was acting up again. His breathing quickened, his head felt heavy, his back was clammy and most importantly, his mind was spinning wildly, almost out of his control.

The trio who kidnapped him didn't notice his predicament, though. Jack held the armrest until his knuckles were white, his breathing getting faster and heavier until Cleo finally took a glance at his way.

“Hey? You don't look so good – you feeling alright or what?”

At Cleo's puzzled questioning, Erik turned on the passenger seat and looked back.

“I think his injuries are pretty serious. You did go overboard as usual, after all.”

“Hey, what do you mean by that?! I only did what you asked me to do, you know!!” Cleo indignantly rebuked Erik's remark, her face getting slightly redder.

On their way, a squadron of police cars passed them by. There were also a couple of heavily modified supercars belonging to Supers mixed in there, too. Their obvious destination seemed to be the street the four of them were on, causing all sorts of ruckus not too long ago.

Jack's face darkened. Even in his current condition, he could easily figure out that the repercussions of his, and these three, would be enormous. His life as he knew it, was over.

He sighed weakly and his head slowly fell. His sight was fixed on his dirty, torn jeans, signs of blood smeared all over – some his, the rest, uncertain.

Jack wondered how shocked his parents and his sister might be after learning that he was a Super. The amount of lying he had done to hide that fact all seemed like a great waste of everyone's time. And he felt awful about that, too – keeping secrets was one thing, but to lie straight to his mother's and father's concerned faces was something else entirely.

Maybe, I should just disappear....

Jack's mind darkened with the arrival of ominous thoughts. To him, disappearing from the face of the earth and not having to face the disappointed family was much more preferable.

“Hey, we're almost at the destination, so hang in there,” said Erik as he worriedly examined Jack's condition with his eyes.

Jack raised his head and saw the passing scenery outside. He was surprised to find that they were not heading into the city but instead, took a ring road circling it and exited directly, heading further North.

The avenues were quite familiar to Jack; he felt like he'd been here before. He frowned, realizing that he recognized this road.

No way in hell....

Jack swore in his heart. His mind was spinning madly, faster than before.

Soon the car they were traveling on arrived at the automated gate belonging to a massive compound. The electrified fence ran all the way around the perimeter, with several large, clearly written signs loudly and threateningly proclaiming that any and all trespassers would be dealt with harshly.

There were at least a dozen security cameras mounted on the various points of the entrance alone, although there was no one manning it. Everything was automated.

Erik pulled out an old cellular phone and dialed the only number stored on it. “Hello? Yeah, we're here with him. Please open the gate... number 26.”

The gate creaked open soon after, and they were allowed beyond the fences. A verdant green lawn, meticulously kept, stretched beyond their view. The only thing that broke this sea of green was a lone white tower, shooting up high into the sky.

Jack took a deep breath as the rest of his memories flooded in. He had been here before, indeed. He came here with his mother and father more than a decade ago.

Because... that huge tower belonged to Min-jung's current employer.

Whew!! Finally. Had two separate power outages this week in my area. That meant not writing and twiddling my thumbs. Bah.

aueneg said: ↑

I'm a bit curious... Do you have like some schedule when you post chapter or is it random?
Click to expand...

My original intention was to post a chapter every two to three days, but RL things conspired to make that a bit impossible at the moment. I'm doing my best to post one at least every four to five days, maybe quicker if I sleep less....

Edit (14th June):

Chapter 10: The Arrival

Right about the same time as Jack was being given a choice of his lifetime, a passenger airplane was flying towards the runways of the famed JFK International airport on the other side of the continent. It was, for all intents and purposes, a regular commercial flight, packed to the brim with non-English speaking tourists looking to soak in the American culture, and maybe even catch the sight of a Superhero or two; wily businessmen coming back home after seeking a risky but financially rewarding venture abroad, or those wanting to find an opportunity to make it big in the so-called land of dreams; students wishing to further their academic careers in the famed universities strewn across all over the country; and other sorts of people, all with their own reasons and wants for being here.

Among these disparate souls, there was one particular man. Other than a gentle smile on his handsome, Southern Mediterranean face, there was nothing outwardly remarkable about him. His clothes, his height, his hair color – nothing about him stood out from the crowd.

As the plane's intercom alerted the passengers aboard the flight of the impending taxing on the runway, and a reminder to put their seatbelts on, this man glanced at the airport through the small, round window. He saw numerous aircraft in the various state of movement – busy unloading passengers and cargo, busy loading passengers and cargo, busy taking off, busy landing – he found the array of activity rather dizzying and full of life. It was an eye-opener for a first-time flyer like him.

“Finally...”

He whispered softly under his breath. His face was calm, but there was a glint of anticipation flickering in his eyes as he swept his gaze on the visible architecture of the airport.

The plane touched down without a drama; a sharp but distant squeak from the tortured tires kissing the tarmac; a slight lurch of the inertia.

As soon as the exits were opened, the passengers stretched their cramped limbs and began to eagerly retrieve their luggage from the overhead compartments. This man was no exception. He only had to pull out a single bag, though – a single, black, regular-sized gym bag with no identifiable markings on it. But the way he hefted it – there was some weight hidden within. His muscles flexed under the shirt as he carefully hoisted the bag over his shoulder as if it was the most important thing in the entire world.

He walked past the smiling stewardesses – or the flight attendants, as they wanted to be known nowadays – while returning a warm smile of his own, and made his way smoothly to the immigrations without encountering any obstacles. On the way, he checked out the many brash and colorful posters lining the walls and the ceilings of the corridors, loudly advertising each of the candidates running in the upcoming local election.

There were other, equally eye-catching posters plastered there too, like the one about an anti-hair loss shampoo, or a certain famous soft drink beverage. Another one, about the upcoming blockbuster from Hollywood, with its square-jawed protagonist looking out into the distant unknown, face full of a contemplative grimace and one arm around a buxom heroine.

Out of the riot of information overload, there was one poster that caught his attention more than the others; it was about an exhibit scheduled to open in the world-famous Metropolitan Museum of Art. Seeing this poster, the man's face brightened just a little more, revealing a row of perfect white teeth under a charming smile, his dark green eyes glittering like a pair of fine jewels.

He stood behind a line, just like everyone else, waiting for his turn to clear the customs. To ward off the boredom from creeping up on him, he decided to observe the people standing in front of him, behind him, all around him. There were men and women from all walks of life and simply watching and observing gave this man an endless amount of entertainment. And he discovered that, indeed, there were a lot of different faces and body shapes in the world. Him included, of course.

“Next,” said the customs officer. The man smiled and took his place, pulling out his passport and handing it over the counter. The officer was an African-American woman in her forties, blessed with a sort of face that belonged to someone who had been on the job for too long; tired and uncaring, but wizened like a sage at the same time.

She received the passport and checked the front. It was issued by the Greek government. Not new, but never been used until now. Flipping it open, she saw the photo of the smiling man and his details. She began scanning his information on the computer terminal and asked him the standard questions.

“Purpose of your visit to the United States of America, Mister Gavalas?”

The man smiled widely. “Artifacts. Arcane, ancient artifacts. There's an exhibition scheduled to open in a few days. I'm here for that.”

The officer nodded. “Oh, I heard about that one. I heard that it's kind of a big deal. So, it's for pleasure, then, Mister Gavalas?”

“You can call me Nico. And well, it's for both – for pleasure, and for business. Either way, I'm very excited to be here.”

She nodded and glanced at the monitor to check the progress of the database search; a minute later, the result came back as negative. Nico Gavalas was not a wanted man, nor did he forge his papers, at least not according to what was showing on the computer monitor.

She then asked him to place his gym bag on the conveyor belt that fed into the baggage scanner, and instructed him to step through the gray full-body scanner himself. Still smiling, he complied and loaded the heavy bag gently on the stationary belt before walking through the body scanner. The result was that... he was fine. No problematic items on his person whatsoever.

But, as soon as the gym bag entered the scanning machine, the customs officer's face changed color. She quickly stopped the machine and signaled to her partner, standing next to the scanner. Then, she turned to face Nico and slowly asked.

“Sir, can you tell us what's inside the bag?”

Her right hand reached towards the gun holster located on her hip while her left grabbed the walkie talkie, her movements practiced and her eyes alert, watching out for any untoward, suspicious behavior from the man before her.

“Oh, that?” Nico chuckled amiably. “It's my liege. You can probably tell that he can't travel like the most of us, you see.”

“Sir, I advise you to open the bag and reveal its contents voluntarily. If it's not a dangerous object you must declare your intentions before entering the country.”

The customs officer then called for assistance over the walkie talkie. As for Nico, he shrugged his shoulders, smiling and sighed.

“Well. I didn't want to show him to anyone just yet, but if you insist, then please, allow me.”

He casually approached the bag and began carefully unzipping it. Then, he spread open the mouth of the bag, revealing a slab of stone and a pale golden skull. There was nothing besides the two, not even a toothbrush. At a glance, the skull looked to be an ordinary human bone – besides its odd color, obviously – but there was a symbol of some kind carved into the forehead area and the incisors were unusually sharp as well. But the air of ancientness coming off the skull was unmistakable, even to a layman.

As soon as the overhead light hit the said skull, it began to radiate a blinding yet completely bizarre aura. This strange aura carried a strong, disgusting energy that when a person came into contact with it, he or she began to feel sick immediately. No one was spared, not even the customs officers. But they bravely held on, sweat beads forming on their foreheads.

“Isn't it so beautiful?! So, amazing, so incredible!! This is the future of mankind!! Your king, about to return from the abyss!!” Nico proclaimed in the unadulterated reverence. His face was full of wonder, joy and even a hint of mad fervor.

The officers were left completely dumbfounded. They have seen people trying to smuggle in money, drugs, weapons and even pets but this.... this was something totally new, leaving them unsure of what to do next. But they still had basic training to fall back to, if all the other avenues were exhausted.

So, as a precaution, they drew their firearms and pointed at Nico. But their aims were not steady at all; they faltered ever so slightly as the effects of that bizarre light took hold.

The African American officer found her voice first and loudly shouted at Nico. “Sir, please step away from the items. I won't repeat this warning. Step away from the unknown items!!”

“Unknown items?!”

Suddenly, Nico's face fell. A cold, crazed gleam began to burn in his eyes as a chilly sneer formed on his lips. It was not because be found what she said funny or amusing, no. It was because of a barely-contained fury bubbling under his skin.

“He's not merely an item!! And he's only unknown, because of you people fail to realize the true history of this planet, this world, which was hidden from you!! It's only because you let those abominable heathens sitting on the thrones of power to manipulate the truth!! You, you are all at fault!! Every one of you!!”

The crazed light in his eyes became stronger as he stepped forward towards the customs officer. She frowned, finding it harder to concentrate, trying her best to suppress the nauseating feeling from invading her consciousness like a disgusting worm.

Her aim only wavered for a second; her vision grew blurry. Her finger slipped and landed on the trigger. But, to her confusion, no shots went off. Alarmed, she focused on the gun, only to find that, instead of the government-issued Glock, she was holding a book with a faded cover.

She recognized it almost instantly – it was her favorite collection of poems. She got through a very rough patch of her childhood thanks to this book, so how could she ever forget it? But obviously, it didn't make a whole lot of sense for her to be holding onto a book, her favorite or not, right at this moment.

Ignoring the officer's confusion, Nico continued to bellow loudly as if he wanted everyone present to hear him.

“It's only unknown, precisely because you are all a flock of sheep allowing yourselves to be fooled!! When will you open your dulled senses? When?”

The sneer became colder, more domineering. Nico proudly scanned the crowd that had gathered around him; airport security officials and curious onlookers with their thumbs busily moving on their phones, snapping the photos and taking short and grainy videos of what's been transpiring here, so they could share it on the various social media outlets with meaningless emojis attached at the end of each asinine posts.

“But it doesn't matter anymore, now that my liege has come!! He's here to reclaim what's rightfully his!! You just wait and watch; this world will come to see the true history once more!! I swear it in my name!!”

Nico then placed his palm on the stone slab. Originally, it was featureless and smooth, its edges worn down. Yet, the moment he touched it, strange, red arcane symbols suddenly began to wriggle into life, glowing in a similar manner as the golden skull and its bizarre aura.

“Sir!! Step away!!”

The African American officer finally decided to do something. She did her best to disregard the confusion in her heart and reached out, grabbing Nico on his shoulder. Her aim was to pry him off the bizarre slab and thus stop whatever was happening from, well, happening further. In her confusion, however, she neglected to use the taser that was hanging on her hips. If she did, then the outcome perhaps would have been... different.

When her eyes met Nico's, she felt like all of her blood froze on the spot out of sheer terror.

Nico Gavalas no longer had eyes. Instead, there were two empty sockets that were quickly filling up with blood. Soon, this blood overflowed out of the sockets and began to wash down on his face, down to his neck, down to his shoulders and chest.

She had no time to react; the blood got on her hand too fast. She pulled back but that blood was on her, moving up alongside her arm, dyeing it in pure crimson hue.

She tried to scream, but the blood entered her mouth, her nostrils, her ears, even her eyes, thus drowning her ability to voice out her terror.

From the outside, it looked like she was going through a seizure. But her eyes had turned deep red, and blood oozed out of the corners of her mouth. She then collapsed where she stood with a heavy thud. Her lips opened and closed repeatedly, but no sound came out.

The bizarre golden light from the skull suddenly took on a purplish hue. It was still golden but now laced with a tinge of purple, making it even more bizarre. One could even swear that the skull actually began to move on its own as the light intensified, its jaws moving and grinding.

Not only that, the strange writings on the stone slab wriggled even more violently as if to break out of their stone imprisonment. The writings became brighter, bigger, more corporeal.

The crowd started to panic after sensing that something was terribly wrong. They began to spread out in a disorganized fashion, trying to get away as quickly as possible.

It was a step too late, however. When the wriggling letters on the stone slab met with the purple-gold light from the skull, an explosion of blinding light erupted, completely engulfing the entirety of the airport.

The light permeated into every nook and cranny, sparing no one – not even one soul. Hiding behind a wall was no use – the light simply snaked past the edges, openings, gaps and found its way to attack a living creature. It didn't matter whether that was a person or a mouse, a plant or a bird.

Every creature was swallowed up in the purple-golden light.

And when the light finally subsided, there was only a single person left standing; a madly smiling Nico Gavalas.

~

Jack Mercer found himself on a crossroad, yet again.

To his back, a car on its roof with its occupants currently trapped inside.

To his front, three Supers his age, politely requesting that he accompany them some place.

What should I do?!

Jack asked repeatedly in his mind. But as ever, a satisfying answer proved to be elusive, just tantalizingly beyond his reach.

Erik, perhaps sensing Jack's reluctance, took a step forward and pointed at the car with Taylor and her dad still inside.

“Look, if you're worried about them, we'll help you to free the two. Lei here has already contacted the emergency services so they should receive help real soon. Nothing to worry about there.”

Jack wordlessly checked the body language of the three Supers. The glasses-wearing boy looked earnest. The muscle girl, Cleo, seemed slightly bored with all the talking, while Lei seemed busy, her fingers darting over the ancient iPod like a hummingbird.

Jack knew in his heart that there was only one way out here and that was to do as they say. He couldn't last against the incredible strength of Cleo, not at his current condition, nor could he contend with the strange power of Erik. And he was no longer confident of escaping from whatever Lei could do. If they wanted him to accompany them somewhere, then that was that, no argument necessary.

Jack sighed and slowly nodded. “Okay, fine. But please help my friends first. Then I'll go with you.”

Erik smiled faintly. “A wise choice. By the way, I'm Erik. That's Lei, and this idiot here is Cleo. And you are?”

“Hey!! Who you calling an idiot?!” Cleo angrily stomped her feet and glared at Erik, who simply shrugged his shoulders and ignored her.

Jack didn't see the funny side, though. Instead, he simply answered, “It's Jack.”

“Alright. Jack, it is. Cleo, please help our friend here,” said Erik as he glanced at the athletic girl. She made an “oh, well” kind of a face before lightly bounding towards the upside down vintage car.

Alarmed slightly at the sudden burst of speed, Jack turned around to chase after her. It'd be a no laughing matter if either Taylor or her father got taken as an extra insurance.

Jack pushed his aching and tired body to run but his chest, with its cracked ribs, didn't make the task easy. Trying to breathe alone was too painful a reminder of how weak he was. Even though he gritted his teeth and forced his body to move, Jack wasn't making any headway. Eventually, he felt like giving up, to rest and not give a damn about anything.

Seeing him like this, Erik turned to Lei and asked her. “Can you bring our ride around? I think Jack's gonna die at this rate.”

She nodded nonchalantly and glanced around the rows of parked cars. Their commotion had attracted quite a lot of witnesses, watching from the distant sidelines and not wanting to get involved with whatever shenanigans were going on.

Lei did her thing with the iPod, and soon enough, a dark, nondescript four door sedan silently glided over where she stood. And there was no one driving it. This was the vehicle they “borrowed” after disembarking from the Greyhound bus earlier on.

Wordlessly, they entered the car – Erik on the passenger's side, Lei behind the wheels – and like magic, the car began to drive on its own, creeping down the few yards to where Jack was, him busy trying to catch his breath while clutching his chest in pain.

“Get in,” said Erik after the car stopped next to Jack.

Jack hesitated briefly, before climbing on the backseat. But he didn't forget to ask. “Hey, you know how to drive? You don't look like you are old enough to have a driver's license yet.”

Lei continued to fiddle with her iPod, not even bothering to raise her head. “It's fine. I can drive almost any car I hack into. I've logged hundreds of hours in Forza 6, so it's all good.”

That's a goddamn video game!! Jack almost blurted out impulsively before realizing that the car was moving on its own, with no input whatsoever from either Lei or Erik. The wheel turned on its own, the gas pedal and the brake all moved without anyone touching them. Even the gears shifted by themselves. Watching this scene play out was ever so slightly unsettling to Jack.

“Oh, and Jack, please hand me your phone. It won't do if they end up tracking your movements, you see.”

Jack reluctantly pulled out his smartphone from the pants pocket, but sighed weakly and tossed it over to Erik. The screen had a nasty crack on it and frame was bent over. It looked deader than a dodo. Erik shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly before throwing the dead phone out of the window.

Their car finally stopped next to where Cleo was. She had already extricated the vintage luxury vehicle from the mess of the mangled wreckage and righted it. Next, she simply grabbed the twisted door and yanked it loose, chucking the now-useless metal away. She reached in and did the same yanking thing with the broken belt buckle, freeing David Finn from the seat.

Taylor, of course, was screaming at her. “Hey!! What the hell are you doing?! Let him go!!”

Cleo retorted back. “What does it look like I'm doing? I'm helping him, you know? Gosh, you're so panicky.”

She lightly carried unconscious David and propped him on the side of a nearby vehicle. Then she noticed an underarm holster and a pistol tucked in there. Cleo tilted her head slightly, wondering what the heck was going on, before snapping back to reality from Taylor's shouts. Shaking her head, Cleo then went over to Taylor's side and pulled the broken door open quite easily.

“Hey, don't come near me, I can get out myself!!” Taylor shouted as she began to struggle against the belt buckle.

Cleo lightly snorted. “Hah, whatever, girl.”

Ignoring the frantic Taylor, Cleo simply snapped the buckle off the frame and that was that.

Now that she was free from the confines, Taylor ignored her own injuries and rushed to where her dad was. She hurriedly dialed 911 on the smartphone as her fingers checked for his pulse, confirming that he was still alive.

Cleo shrugged her shoulders and climbed next to Jack in the car. Noticing that she was about to share the backseat with him, her eyes narrowed as she leaned over and peered closely at his pale face. “I wanna know how you did what you did, you know? I'm gonna find out ve~ry soon.”

Her face got too close to his, making him feel mighty uncomfortable. Jack was literally surrounded by the powerful enemies with no way to escape and being in a close proximity with the muscle of the group only served to confound things even more.

Jack chose to do the only thing he could do here and ignored Cleo. Instead, he leaned outside the window and spoke to Taylor.

“I'm going with them. No choice in the matter. Take care of your dad – and uh....” Jack hesitated on what he wanted to say next. It was not an easy decision to make, but at the same time, seemed like a no-brainer to him. Finally making up his mind, Jack sighed deeply. “And please contact my family. Tell them I'll be alright. You can... tell them everything if they ask you about it.”

Taylor hid her shock, choosing to simply nod. She understood Jack's decision well enough – no point in trying to second-guess him at this stage. “You take care of yourself, okay? And.... I'll find you. That much, I promise you.”

Jack grinned bitterly at that.

The car drove off with the four of them, taking the road leading towards downtown.

And as the car hummed and clunked softly from the undulations on the road, Jack found himself gripping the rear armrest hard once more. His phobia of moving vehicles was acting up again. His breathing quickened, his head felt heavy, his back was clammy, his chest was hurting and most importantly, his mind was spinning wildly, almost out of his control.

The trio who kidnapped him initially failed to notice his predicament, instead talking to each other about someone chasing after them and stuff about some projects and such. Jack didn't pay any attention to the contents. No, not that he did that deliberately, but he actually couldn't.

He sweated heavily, holding the armrest until his knuckles turned white, his breathing getting faster and shallower until Cleo finally took a glance at his way.

“Hey? You don't look so good – you feeling alright or what?”

At Cleo's puzzled questioning, Erik turned on the passenger seat and looked back.

“I think his injuries are pretty serious. You did go overboard as usual, Cleo.”

“Hey, what do you mean by that?! I properly held back, you know? Like how we agreed earlier!!” Cleo indignantly rebuked Erik's remark, her face getting slightly redder.

Ignoring her protests, Erik told Jack to hold on. “We'll get to our destination sooner than you think. Once there, you can ask for medical help, I think. So, hold on for a bit longer.”

As soon as he was finished saying that, a squadron of police cars passed them by. There were also a couple of heavily modified supercars belonging to Supers following right behind as well. Their obvious destination must have been the street the four of them were on, causing all sorts of ruckus not too long ago.

Jack's face darkened. Even in his current condition, he could easily figure out that the repercussions of his actions, and of these three Supers, would be enormous. His life as he knew it, was basically over. Well, his would-be attempt at trying to live one, that was.

He sighed weakly, allowing his pounding head slowly fall to his lap. His sight was fixed on his dirty, torn jeans, signs of blood smeared all over – some his, the rest, uncertain.

Jack wondered how shocked his parents and his sister might be after learning that he was a Super. He hadn't lied explicitly to anyone but he did cover up his secret so maybe that was akin to lying, after all. Whatever, right now all his efforts so far seemed like a great waste of everyone's time.

And he felt awful about that, too. He remembered the concerned faces of his parents and how he curtly refused to talk to them, resolutely keeping secrets and ignoring all of their worries and caring hands just to wallow in his self-pity.

No, wait – I never felt that way, did I? I never felt pitiful, no. Yeah, I hated the fact that I didn't have enough power. But self-pity? That can't be.

All I wanted to do was to get my revenge. That's all I wanted. That's all I obsessed over. I didn't care who I hurt as long as my goal was reached....

Jack massaged his temples, his pounding head feeling like he was surrounded by hundreds of loudspeakers, blaring rubbish House music nonstop.

I.... hurt my family a lot? Did I? But...

Inevitably, in order to vindicate himself, Jack began to sift through his memories, trying to see if he did cause unbearable pain to his family. At first, there was nothing and he was nearly relieved of his uncertainty. But then, the recollections hit him. Those small moments of heavy, worried creases, barely held back tears and mostly, hesitant hands wishing to reach out and touch him, to comfort him but failing to do so because of the unscalable wall he surrounded himself with.

I.... I did hurt them. I am the worst...

Jack's mind darkened further with the invasion of several ominous thoughts. To him, disappearing from the face of the earth and not having to face the angry, disappointed and hurt family sounded much more preferable. If he indeed disappeared now, then his family would be spared further pain from his idiotic actions in the future. It seemed like a good deal to Jack, really.

“Hey, we're almost at the destination, so hang in there,” said Erik as he worriedly examined Jack's condition with his eyes.

Jack raised his head and his wavering view caught the passing scenery outside. He was surprised to find that they were not heading into the city but instead, they took a ring road circling it and exited directly, heading further North.

The avenues the car traveled on were quite familiar to Jack; he felt like he'd been here before. The signs of civilization lessened until there were no more buildings, only the untouched nature. The thick forest ran on either side of the road, sunlight failing to penetrate the tree canopy.

No way in hell....

Jack swore in his heart. His mind was spinning madly, faster than before. He definitely recognized this forest. There were no landmarks to memorize yet he remembered coming here.

Soon they arrived at the automated gate belonging to a massive compound. The electrified fence ran all the way around the perimeter, with several large, clearly written signs loudly and threateningly proclaiming that any and all trespassers would be harshly dealt with.

There were at least a dozen security cameras mounted on the various points of the entrance alone, although there was no one manning it. Everything was automated.

Erik pulled out an old Nokia cellular phone that didn't even have a touchscreen and dialed the only number stored on it. “Hello? Yeah, we're here with him. Please open the gate... number 6.”

The gate creaked open soon after, and they were allowed beyond the fences. A verdant green lawn, meticulously kept, stretched as far as they could see. The only thing that broke this flat sea of green was a lone white tower, shooting up high into the sky.

Jack took a deep breath as the rest of his memories flooded in. He had been here before, indeed. He came here with his mother and father a decade ago.

Because... that huge tower belonged to Min-jung's current employer.

A_Passing_Wanderer · Jun 14, 2017

Chapter 11

Their “borrowed” car drove on the lone road leading up to the base of the huge white tower. From a distance, it looked like they were cutting through the beautiful lawn like a shark fin poking out of the green ocean's surface.

Jack remained silent, his phobia and pain no longer making a fuss in his mind. Right now, he was trying to recall every facet of that earlier visit to this place.

Back then, he was really too young, far too easily distracted, and way too deep into his portable gaming device and its then-revolutionary pretty graphics to truly commit everything to memory what happened on the trip. Looking back, he felt somewhat regretful about that, but it was what it was – spilled milk and all that.

As the car neared, Jack raised his head and took a better glance at the massive structure. Some of the memories did manage to worm its way back, making him realize that, indeed, he was as awestruck back then as he was now. He just couldn't imagine the resources that were spent in order to build something that humongous.

Only the wealthiest and the most mysterious man alive could, just maybe, afford to splurge extravagantly like that.

The tower's design closely resembled a spire; or, maybe even that of a space-bound rocket straight out of an old steampunk fantasy novel, except that it was pure white in color rather than bronze or copper. Near the top, Jack could see reflections from the rows of windows, denoting the area where the owner of the tower might be, observing the arrival of the guests.

Other than that, though – there were no signs of life. Sure, insects buzzed about in the air, there were birds flapping their wings high up in the sky, but no humans anywhere, not even a shadow. It was oddly lifeless, this ambiance. And also a bit sterile as well.

And the silence cast over the area was like a deadly net, choking all urges to inquire about his fate right out of Jack's mouth. Not only him but his companions as well – after all, the three of them had never been here before, only having seen the images of this compound in the military satellite photographs.

The length between the gate and the tower's foot was crossed quickly enough; what greeted them was an ominous-looking entrance to the underground parking structure that kind of reminded Jack of the mouth of Hell from the Divine Comedy, ready to swallow him whole in one gulp.

Lei did her thing and the car effortlessly cruised to the entrance. There was a metallic gate blocking their way but as soon as their car came close, the shutters opened up as if in waiting. Jack noticed numerous cameras here as well, keeping a watch on the car.

The underground parking lot was quite spacious and also devoid of human activity. But as Jack got out, he noticed a lot of cars covered in the soft, gray material. He could see that they were priceless, limited-edition supercars and luxury cars simply by taking a quick glance at their outlines. As a young, hot blooded and passionate man, he was naturally interested in stuff like this; even under the current situation he couldn't help but feel envious of the lucky son of the gun who owned all these metal.

The area was constructed as a dome; there was a central pillar-like structure with elevators going up, with its doors open and waiting for the passengers. Again, no humans anywhere.

“Please use the elevator to come upstairs. The floor control is automatic, so do not worry.”

A disembodied voice of a man suddenly came out of nowhere, startling the group of teens except for Lei who was still fiddling around with her iPod. The voice itself was quite pleasant, kinda like a cooling Summer breeze on the skin. Jack recognized this voice as well – it belonged to the person who owned this tower.

“Okay, let's get going,” said Erik as he goaded the others to follow him into the elevator.

Once the group entered it, the door silently closed and the lift began moving. The walls were finished in gleaming golden metal, polished to the very extreme and not a blemish in sight. The design itself was unusual in that there was no control panel on the walls, nor were there a display to show which floor they were on currently.

“So, uh, you nervous?” Erik asked Jack. He didn't bother asking his companions because he knew them well enough – Cleo didn't know better, and Lei didn't really care.

“Should I be?”

Jack replied with a crumpled face.

“Well.... hmm. The thing is, I've never met the guy before.” Erik shrugged his shoulders and blushed a little. “But man.... how weird this is. We're going to meet The Maverick. I am kind of nervous.”

The Maverick, huh. Jack thought inwardly to himself. Right.... He's the dude who owns the pharmaceutical company mom works at – The Faraday Laboratories. And the dude....

Jack frowned slightly as he drew blanks on what his face looked like, which was strange, to say the least – since the man was so famous, he did lots of interviews and whatnots over the years and Jack had come across more than his fair share of those. Hell, Jack was pretty sure he met the man controlling the multi-billion dollar global conglomerate before as well when he came here with his mom.

But for the life of him, Jack couldn't recall the face. It was as if there was a thick veil of fog obscuring the way. And it sure made him feel somewhat anxious to meet this man who supposedly knew what was going on with him.

Even his name escaped Jack's mental grasp. Which was odd, seeing that Jack should know it – no, he already knew it but just like the case with the face, even the name was fogged up. It was beginning to get rather frustrating, somewhat.

The strange thing was, Jack wasn't feeling too much pain from his injuries. He could faintly sense that there was some type of gentle, low-frequency humming coming from within the tower that seemed to have an effect on him, lessening the fatigue and tired aches his muscles were suffering from, not to mention keeping him more alert than before. Even with all of those, he still couldn't remember the face nor the name, though.

Soon, the elevator came to a gentle stop. The polished golden doors swished and opened to the sides, revealing a long white corridor devoid of any decoration. If one looked at this hallway objectively, it was something out of a Science Fiction movie with a huge budget and a set designer with an imaginative mind.

At the end of the corridor, there was a doorway but it seemed closed for the moment.

“Please step into the corridor. Forgive me for the momentary inconvenience, but it is absolutely necessary for you guys to go through this hallway as the area beyond the door is hermetically sealed.”

The voice intoned gently and also it sounded a bit apologetic as well. Jack had no recollection of this particular corridor, though – probably it was built after his visit ten years ago. Whatever the case may be, they had to step into it anyway as the elevator behind them closed its doors resolutely, cutting off the only retreat out of here.

So, forward it was.

Cleo was the first. She usually was. Erik was right after her and Lei brought up the rear. As for Jack... He only hesitated for a second before starting to walk himself.

And with every step he took, the faster his heart beat; it was almost to a point where he was feeling mighty uncomfortable. If it continued like this, then he'd reach the level of having a panic attack in less than ten seconds. No amount of those gentle, indistinct humming could soothe him at this point.

The corridor darkened slowly and a hiss of air ejecting from somewhere came from above, from the sides, and even from the floor. A gentle but cold blast of air wrapped the group in its embrace. Then, a blast of hot air – followed by another cold one, but this time accompanied by the smell of chemicals that reminded Jack of disinfectants, only much stronger in its acrid sourness.

The alternating blasts of air continued for a few minutes before they stopped completely and the corridor brightened once more.

“Thank you for your patience, guys. Please, step forward. Come in.”

The metallic doors at the end of the corridor slid open almost soundlessly and Jack could just about make out the white walls and objects beyond. He didn't see nor sense anything threatening from as far as the view was concerned, but still remained cautious and took a slow and steady step forward. That was partly because of his pounding heart as well – trying to calm it by taking things slow and steadily.

It wasn't working as well as he hoped for, however.

His heart beat madly as Jack's foot slid past the door frame and directly into the chamber. He was bathed in soft but bright light from multiple LED lamps placed strategically in several angles all over. And they were illuminating several tall, large glass cabinets with incredibly thick glasses which even the naked eyes could discern quite easily.

Within each of these cabinets lay a stone tablet, the kind that Moses might have descended down Mount Sinai with. On it, ancient runes and symbols that should be nothing more than some incomprehensible babble to him were carefully carved into the surface.

Yet, when Jack took a casual glance at those carvings, he nearly gasped out in shock. Because he could read them.

He blinked his eyes for a good few seconds, hoping to dispel the illusion that had taken root in his head. But no matter what, he could still read just fine, as if the bizarre words carved into these tablets were the very language he'd been speaking until now.

But he had never, ever seen them before in his life. Not even on television. Nor in the numerous websites of Internet. His heart kept on madly beating, with no sign of slowing down.

Each of the cabinets had a plaque attached in front with English translation of what was written on the tablet inside. Erik glanced over at the nearest one and murmured slowly.

“The Epic of Gilgamesh... Hmm. I heard that it was the oldest recorded story yet found. So these letters are cuneiforms, huh?”

Jack's mind almost reeled in dizziness. Gilgamesh? Where did I hear that name before?

Beyond these stone tablets, giant murals adorned the walls, also encased in the thick layer of glass. The depictions of a tall, mustached man fighting against a humanoid creature, then an ape-like monster, as well as numerous other creatures were vividly recreated on them. The more one gazed upon them, the more convinced the one became of these figures actually possessing life and thus capable of moving on their own.

And in the center of the chamber, a huge blood-red armor with no owner, also encased in a thick glass cabinet.

“Oh, wow, that's kickass,” said Cleo, her eyes shining at the sight of the majestic armor.

But the same couldn't be said for Jack's reaction. Because he recognized pretty much everything in this chamber, having never seen them before in his life. And when he saw the blood-red armor, suddenly it all clicked into place.

“The Armor of Crimson Starlight....” Jack's words left his mouth before he realized it. He stood there, trembling – because he totally, definitely recognized this armor.

In the dream of the ancient world, he was the one wearing it.

Suddenly, his wildly beating heart stilled, then began to slow down. A kind of gentle calmness spread all over his mind and body. It was so soothing that, if there was a bed here, Jack might be tempted to fall on it and go straight to sleep.

Jack also felt nostalgia filling him up. His eyes traced every inch of the impressive armor and the inexplicable longing began to toy with his emotions.

“That is the armor that once belonged to the legendary God-King, Gilgamesh, or more correctly, Bilgamesh as he was known back then.”

A cool, crisp voice came from behind one of the cabinets, surprising the group out of their silent observations of the many artifacts on display.

Jack reluctantly broke his gaze away from the armor and turned towards the source of the voice – the owner of the tower.

“....Mylorne Akkad. We finally meet,” said Erik under his breath.

A man in early forties stepped out from behind the cabinet. He was devastatingly handsome in a completely indecipherable way. His ethnicity was hard to tell – he could be an Arab, he could be a Northern Caucasian or even Mediterranean. Greek? Egyptian? Indian? Eurasian?

His dark brown hair was shoulder length but neatly groomed. Just under six feet in height, he was neither too tall nor too short yet there was just something about the man that came off as powerful and imposing without even trying. Even Cleo withdrew slightly, instinctively sensing that this man was, for the lack of better word, simple as he looked, the gray T-shirt and a pair of washed-out jeans not weakening the impression one bit.

Jack was wordless, though – he was stunned into complete silence. The veil of fog shrouding his memories lifted up as soon as he saw the face and Jack could not believe his own eyes nor trust his mind. His legs were trembling, his fists were firmly clenched, beads of sweat were traveling down his backside like a waterfall.

Mylorne Akkad's warm blue eyes, with a trace of purple, studied the four youth before him. A gentle smile bore his lips before he sighed in relief.

“Thank goodness, you guys have arrived without any incident. I've been waiting for so long to talk to you face to face.”

Erik stepped forward and took charge of the communication. “Mister Akkad. We are here now as you suggested we do. We sacrificed a lot by coming here, so please, can you tell us.... what we are? And why were we taken from our homes and placed in the military compounds since over ten years ago?”

At these unexpected words, Jack gasped in another big surprise. He was having one too many of them today and he had a sneaking suspicion that, if the rate of him getting shocked kept up throughout the day, he might end up with a heart attack.

Anyways, what Erik said sounded crazy. “What? You were taken from your homes? By whom? Why?” Jack stammered out questions like an inbred idiot.

Mylorne smiled wryly. “Well, in order to enlighten you all, even Mister Mercer here, we need to start from the very beginning. Follow me.”

And follow they did. Beyond the chamber full of priceless artifacts was a wide, spacious living area decked out in white furniture. White sofas, white coffee tables, white floor lamps, even the super-giant white flatscreen TV that dominated the entirety of the wall it was mounted on. The only injection of color in this otherwise barren desert of whiteness was several expensive paintings that even someone untrained in art as Jack could recognize.

But none of that mattered for the moment as Jack was intensely staring at the back of the head belonging to Mylorne Akkad, trying to reign in his heavy breathing.

That face... that face!! He... No, it can't be. There is just no freaking way he's the same person!! It just can not be!!

The wide vista of the outside world was visible through the windows; the near-endless sea of green, the fencing of the perimeter, then the brown of the world beyond. Jack was briefly reminded of the view he got from the tower in his dreams; it wasn't a perfect carbon copy, but reasonably close. One more freakish coincidence for him to sweat over.

But it didn't seem like a mere chance the longer Jack sweated over the details.

Mylorne offered seats to his guests on the pristine white couch and sofas. They looked ultra expensive – so much so that, even Cleo was feeling a bit weird to sit her ass down on them. But Lei, still fiddling with her iPod, saw no issues whatsoever and plonked down without a single shred of hesitation. Seeing that, the rest slowly sat down too.

“Refreshments? Surely, your throats are parched from the lengthy and difficult journey.”

A simple snap of his fingers, and a white robot on wheels whirred out from a corner. It carried a tray of drinks and snacks.

After having gone through some strange ordeal, Jack thought this sight rather fitting. The sun was beginning to set now, and if there was a lazy lounge music playing then the whole thing would have been postcard perfect.

The trio of teens, Erik, Lei and Cleo looked down on the snacks busily arranged on the coffee table before them, not sure of what to feel. Eventually, Cleo reached down and picked up a biscuit, slowly shoving it in her mouth.

Her eyes went round the moment she chewed it.

“Holy cow, it's delicious!!”

She then ravenously picked on the biscuits, devouring them like a hungry wolf.

Mylorne smiled pleasantly. “I'll serve dinner in due course, so in the meantime, please enjoy yourselves with these.”

Ignoring Cleo, Erik leaned forward and took on a more serious tone. “Mister Akkad, please tell us what is going on. I've been holding onto this question for over ten years now. I don't think I can wait any further.”

Lei put down her iPod as well, her face emotionless but if anyone observed her carefully, those deep, dark eyes seemed to gleam with desire as well. Jack kept quiet for now.

Nodding, Mylorne sighed and slowly waved his hand. This brought up the curtains that automatically closed up the vast expense of the windows. The living room darkened slightly and the TV screen flickered into light.

“Let me start from the very beginning. It's going to be a long story, so please, bear with me for a while.”

~

The date was 1979, February 11th.

The location? A dusty but somewhat mountainous region in Iran, nearer the Persian Gulf than the heart of the Arabian Peninsula.

There was almost nothing here – unless one counted endless sand as something useful. The way Professor Evans saw it, the blowing sand was the very enemy he had to struggle against every single day.

He looked at the wristwatch; it was only twenty past nine in the morning. The desert in the late winter could be dastardly cold too, which was something most people would not have guessed initially.

Pulling the wool jumper close to his cheeks, Evans drew in a deep breath and turned back towards the peak of the hill. Near the top, a cave entrance could be seen, and a bevy of activities precipitated by a group of workers and archaeologists.

Evans came out of the cavern to get himself a breath of fresh, cold air. The night before had been too damn exhilarating and his heart couldn't simply take the strain if he stayed in there any longer. Now that he got his intake of the refreshing air, his head was clear, much clearer than before.

His neck ached slightly so he massaged it roughly as he ascended the hill. His assistant, Donald, was waving his hands animatedly at the relatively young and brilliant professor once their eyes met.

“Professor!! Come and take a look!! We've got something on the monitor!! The camera found something unbelievable!! It's incredible, sir!!”

“Yeah, yeah. I'm coming, Donald. Hold your pants, will you.”

Chuckling, Evans hurried his steps and entered the cave. The naturally formed mouth of the cavern didn't extend too far before the man made walls began to appear on all sides. Pristine murals, hieroglyphs and various statues and stone steles decorated the interior, denoting its incredible wealth as the archaeological find of this century.

Countless lights were placed on the floor as well as on the walls to better illuminate all these incredible relics of the now-forgotten part of the history, highlighting many unusual symbols and runes on the surfaces.

But even at a first glance, the entire chamber didn't seem all that big; no more than that of a, say, a fast-food restaurant's eating area. Evans and his team knew that what was in front wasn't everything this... tomb offered. They spent weeks trying to locate the hidden chamber and the passageway that would lead them into it.

And they had found it last night. A small hole was drilled into the wall facing North and a PVC pipe with an advanced military-grade infrared camera was inserted inside was placed, with the live feed showing up on the large banks of monitors set up near the mouth of the cave, away from the devastating elements outside. This set up took whole night and carrying around the heavy equipment like a twenty-year-old freshman had done in Evans' neck. Nothing could beat the relentless advent of time, it seemed.

On the monitor, the hidden chamber showed itself. It was obviously dark – very dark but even then, a faint outline of a huge, monolithic item could be seen. Evans felt his heart beat rise at an alarming rate, but the smile pasted on his face grew even faster.

“It's THE sarcophagus. Can you position the camera closer? With more light? We need to see it better, on that side. Yeah, there, right there!!”

Evans pointed at the screen when the familiar cuneiforms showed up on it. The beaming smile solidified and even if he tried, he couldn't undo this smile for the next ten weeks. That's how good he felt. The vindication he felt in this moment was indescribable – all the ridicule he'd received from his peers, all the weary gazes thrown at his way by the potential financiers; and now, Evans could confidently tell them to their conceited faces, “Eat this, you pieces of....!!”

“Hmm?”

Donald noticed something on the monitor and shook Evans on the shoulder. “Look, professor. Look at that glowing thing, there on the corner.”

“What glowing thing?!”

Evans irritably slapped Donald's hand off his shoulder and leaned in closer to look.

Indeed, there was something that faintly glowed in the dark, near the sarcophagus. The image quality was too vague to tell what it was.

“Probably a surface reflecting the light from the camera, nothing more,” Evans said dismissively. “Don't stop. Keep on going and get closer to the sarcophagus until we can see some details.”

The camera operator nodded and continued to manipulate the joystick. The camera closed in on the glowing thing and when it got close enough, the inevitable thing happened – the two touched.

Suddenly, the hill shook for a second. Everyone nearby felt the tremor.

“An earthquake?!” Donald gasped and ducked below the banks of monitors faster than a speeding bullet.

Evans quickly scanned around, but nothing was amiss – no falling debris, no loose rocks tumbling down on them, no nothing.

Shaking his head nervously, Evans shouted. “Hey, is everyone alright? Do a head count, confirm that everyone is accounted for!!”

As soon as the words left his lips, the hill creaked again and shook even harder, this time a second longer. Evans fell on his butt and so did the man operating the cameras.

Sparks flew as the electric cords got violently tangled up and snapped, and the monitors died in an instant. And incredibly, the whole wall where the hole was drilled into, began to separate into two. Lots and lots of dust and sand fell on the crowd near it, including Evans and Donald.

The commotion continued for a minute as the wall completely split open, becoming a lengthy passageway leading to the burial chamber. Once the doors were fully opened, the shaking stopped and the deafening silence returned to the tomb. Of course, the camera equipment, as expensive as they were, were completely ruined, sucked into the wall along with the doors. But Evans was too elated to care for the cost.

Clearing his throat, he shouted. “Do the head count, Donald!! Make sure everyone is alright!! And go and find Mohammed and Salim!! Hey, what are you waiting for?! Go, I say!! Time is precious!! The moment this chamber is open, it's going to be irreparably damaged by the contact with the outside air!! Hurry up!!”

After giving out the orders, Evans snapped on the flashlight and shined its light on the dark passageway. The walls were smooth, no murals nor writings on them. He didn't seem to find any signs that those deadly traps popularized by old adventure serials he used to watch as a child being real.

The air was sterile, dank with mold, and smelt just a bit.... like an old burial chamber. But that only served to excite Evans further.

Drinking in the odor of his victory, Evans carefully stepped inside the dark chamber and slowly advanced forward.

And soon, the light of his torch shined on the large sarcophagus.

Evans sucked in the air. He uttered under his breath. “Beautiful...”

He was now in a dome-shaped chamber, with the sarcophagus placed smack dab in the middle. The entire chamber's size didn't exceed that of a large mausoleum, granting Evans more than enough room to move around in.

The light shined on the walls, and he drew in another sharp breath. There were so many cuneiforms adorning the walls here, it was just plainly insane. And even on a cursory glance, they were of different content from what was recorded on the outside. This was beyond a major discovery now. Evans had struck not gold, but platinum, diamond, and plutonium all at once!!

He chuckled heartily to himself before noticing a small pedestal right next to the sarcophagus. The broken PVC pipe with the camera was lying on the ground next to it. On top of this strange pedestal, he saw a crystal that was rapidly losing its radiance.

“Is that what reflected the light from the camera?”

Evans frowned slightly and approached it, wondering just what purpose this thing served in a tomb. The height of the pedestal made it ideal for a grown man to stand still and press down on it as if it was a switch of some kind....

A brief thought flashed by in his head. What if this was the button to operate the walls? I mean, after all the camera bumped into it and then the wall began to move....

Evans stared at the pedestal and the crystal for a second before snapping out of his thoughts.

No way. Nothing like this pedestal or the crystal could be found outside the burial chamber. That means it's only in here. But what purpose would that serve?! Seriously, now – unless the dead guy decides to stand up suddenly and go for a stroll or some nonsense...

Evans threw the notion away. It was a ridiculous idea, to begin with - so he saw no point in having it occupy a corner of his valuable mind.

Next, he studied the cuneiforms on the sarcophagus itself. The more he deciphered, the more excited he became.

“Gilgamesh, finally I found you. Welcome to the 20th Century.”

Chuckling, Evans tenderly touched the lid and sighed. It was then Donald came inside the chamber with a photographer in tow.

“Professor!! Everyone's alright. Salim's got a light bruising but he'll be fine after some treatment. I've brought Mohammed instead.”

“Good, good. Mohammed, please work your magic, my good man – because today, we are going to be famous!!”

Evans beamed brightly and patted the photographer, Mohammed on his shoulders.

“Whatever you say, professor.” Mohammed smiled wryly before hoisting his expensive camera and began to see through the lens. “We'll need a lot of lights in here, Donald. Can you organize at least half a dozen?”

While the two of them were discussing the logistics of the lighting, Evans took another lengthy look at the walls.

Eventually, the wide smile faded and was replaced by a more solemn expression. He pulled out his notebook and began jotting down the rough translations hurriedly. That was because the stuff he was reading right now.... barely made sense.

It didn't even read like the usual cuneiforms either, with several unknown letters and symbols popping up everywhere, confusing the professor greatly. He had a lot of pride at being the preeminent expert on the long-dead language of the ancient Sumeria and Mesopotamia but even he couldn't bridge the gap here.

But from what he could understand so far, made him wonder if someone was pulling a practical joke on him.

What the hell.... is this? Why is it talking about some sort of cataclysmic war between the gods and.... men? And according to this, it hasn't even taken place yet? Huh? And what the heck is this about the village chief of black? No, wait – that's not right. Uh.... how about.... the lord of darkness? Hmm, that sounds better....

No, wait a freaking minute here, it does not sound better. What the hell is this?! Is this a goddamn fairy tale?! A Lord of Darkness? You must be kidding me.

Donald and Mohammed called out to Evans then and told him that they were stepping outside for a bit to get the rest of the lighting equipment. Evans, feeling somewhat hot under the collar, nodded his head without turning his head around, afraid that the two might figure something out from his current befuddled expression.

After they left him alone, Evans frustratedly brushed the confusing cuneiform. He meant nothing by that gesture; it was something he wouldn't have done if he was in the right frame of mind. But he wasn't, and that's when the rest of his life took a different turn.

The particular symbols depicting the Lord of Darkness slid in and an audible click could be heard from behind the wall. Evans stiffened. He had no time to back away before a ray of light shot out from the sarcophagus and filled his head with indescribable images.

By the time Donald returned with the crew to set the lighting equipment, they found Evans slumped on the floor, hyperventilating.

The crew rushed him out of the tomb and brought him outside the cavern before the professor waved his hand and spoke to them. “I'm okay. I'm okay. Mohammed, Donald, take photos of everything inside, each and every symbol, letter, and rune and.... just take everything!! Since Salim's injured, get someone else to take the recorder and video tape every inch of that place. And I do mean every inch!! And also, we need to take the sarcophagus out of there!!”

“Calm down, professor!! You know we can't take out the coffin – that's inadvisable at this stage of the dig!!”

“Just do as I say, will you, Donald?” Evans tiredly said to his assistant as he was supported into the tent.

Before he could be settled down on a chair, though, a loud whirring noise shattered the air.

Frowning, Evans stood up, ignoring the dizziness. He hurriedly stepped outside the tent to find out the cause of the noise, only to witness three military helicopters landing by the foot of the hill, where the rest of the team's tents were pitched.

“What the.... what's going on here?” Donald muttered in confusion. “What's the U.S. Army doing here?”

Several soldiers poured out of the green helicopters. They then began to order the people around to do.... something, but since Evans and Donald were too far away they couldn't tell what that was all about.

Evans noticed a young-ish soldier rushing up to where he was. He was dressed differently to the other soldiers, denoting that he was an officer, not a grunt.

The soldier took off his aviator shades and offered his right hand. “Professor Evans?”

“Yes, I am he. And you are?”

“Second Lieutenant Jonathan Williams, U.S. Marine Corps. I've come to extract your men out of here, sir. We've got a situation developing at Tehran.”

“What? What situation?”

“There's been a coup. The remnant of Pahlavi regime has collapsed and as we speak, all American citizens are being evacuated from the country. And you and your men are included in that as well.”

Evans felt all strength leave his body. He crumpled on the spot, dejected. “No, this can't be.... Lieutenant Williams, this... this place, do you know the significance of this place?! We can't.... I can't abandon this place!!”

“Sorry, Professor. I've got my orders, sir. And you are coming with me. Right now.”

Here's the new chapter. Hope you like it.

Edit (14th June):

Chapter 11: The Past

The “borrowed” car drove on the lone stretch of the carefully maintained road leading up to the base of the huge white tower. When viewed from a distance, they were cutting through the beautiful lawn like a shark fin poking out of the green ocean's surface.

Jack remained silent, his phobia and pain no longer making a fuss and making his life difficult. Because currently, he was concentrating very hard to recall every facet of his previous visit to this place, the one he made with his parents. Unfortunately, he could only recall a little. He was here, his mom and dad were here, Dana was here, but that was about it. This was some time soon after Min-jung became an employee of the man who owned his impressive structure.

Maybe, back then he was really too young, far too easily distracted, way too deep into his portable gaming device and its then-revolutionary graphics to truly commit everything to memory what happened on that trip. In his current predicament, he couldn't help but feel regretful about his lack of foresight, but it was what it was – spilled milk and all that.

As the car neared, Jack raised his head and focused on the massive structure's design. Some of the memories did manage to worm their way back, making him realize that he was indeed as awestruck back then as he was now. He just couldn't even begin to imagine the sheer amount of resources that were spent in order to build something this humongous and ostentatious in nature.

Only the wealthiest and the most mysterious man alive could, just maybe, afford to splurge as extravagantly.

The tower's design closely resembled a spire or maybe even that of a space-bound rocket straight out of an old steampunk fantasy novel, except that it was pure white in color rather than the commonly-seen bronze or copper. Near the top, Jack could see reflections from the rows of windows, denoting the area where the owner of the tower might be, observing the arrival of the guests like some kind of an evil overlord.

Other than that, there were no signs of life. Sure, insects buzzed about in the air, there were birds flapping their wings high up in the sky, but no humans anywhere, not even a shadow. It was oddly lifeless, this ambiance. And also a bit sterile as well.

And the silence cast over the area was like a deadly net, stifling any and all urges to inquire about his fate right out of Jack's mouth. Not only him but the others were feeling the weight of this oppressive atmosphere as well. The three of them had never been here before, only having stolen a peek or two at the images of this compound in the military satellite photographs.

They had no idea what to expect. Cleo and Lei only followed Erik, believing in his words of the future without the Project's overseers controlling every facet of their lives. Even Erik was scared, of being wrong and leading his friends down the path of no return. He had his fingers crossed, hoping for the best outcome for himself and for his companions.

The length between the gate and the tower's foot was crossed quickly enough; what greeted them was an ominous-looking entrance to the underground parking structure that kind of reminded Jack of the mouth of Hell from the Divine Comedy, ready to swallow him whole in one gulp. Well, to any other folks, it'd be nothing more than a regular underground car park entrance, though.

Lei did her thing and the car effortlessly cruised to the entrance. There was a metallic gate blocking their way but as soon as their car came close, the shutters opened up as if in waiting. Jack noticed numerous cameras here as well, keeping a close watch on the car.

The underground parking lot was huge and also somewhat expectedly, devoid of any human activity. Again, not a soul was present. It'd be not unusual to spot a security personnel or two by now, but their lack of presence only served to tense up Jack and the company.

Jack got out of the car, he took another long look around the underground area, and noticed that there was a lot of things covered in the soft, gray material.

He could see that they were priceless, limited-edition supercars and luxury cars simply by taking a quick glance at their outlines. As a young, hot blooded and passionate man, he was naturally interested in stuff like this; even under the current situation he couldn't help but feel envious of the lucky son of the gun who owned all these exotic and rare metals.

The whole underground area was constructed as a massive dome; there was a central pillar-like structure with an elevator, with its doors open and waiting for the passengers. Even here, no human presence. Everything was either fully automated, or all the staff members had to be on a very long holiday.

“Please use the elevator to come upstairs. The floor control is automatic, so do not worry. I'll be waiting for you.”

A disembodied voice of a man suddenly came out of nowhere, startling the group of teens. Lei quickly fiddled around with her iPod, trying to locate the sources of the sound but even she couldn't readily locate the speakers nor the cameras that were no doubt trained on them.

But the voice itself was quite pleasant, kinda like a cooling Summer breeze on the skin. It may have been alarming at first, but there didn't seem any bad intent in the words and that put them at ease, with the exception of Jack. He had recognized this voice – it belonged to the person who owned this tower. And that realization only served to make his heart beat faster. Not in a good way, either.

“Okay, let's get going,” said Erik as he goaded the others to follow him into the elevator.

Once the group entered it, the door silently closed and the lift began moving. The walls were finished in gleaming golden metal, polished to the very extreme and not a blemish in sight. The design itself was unusual in that there was no control panel on the walls, nor were there a display to show which floor they were on currently.

“So, uh, you nervous?” Erik asked Jack. He didn't bother asking his companions because he knew them well enough – Cleo didn't know better, and Lei wouldn't say a word unless she was really unhappy. People who didn't know her well sometimes thought she didn't care about anything but Erik knew better, that Lei was just good at hiding her feelings.

“Should I be?”

Jack replied with a crumpled face.

“Well.... hmm. The thing is, I've never met the guy before.” Erik shrugged his shoulders and blushed a little. “But man.... how weird this is... Oh, right. You don't know who we are meeting here. It's The Maverick. The Maverick. The wealthiest, most powerful man alive. I am kind of nervous, to be honest.”

The Maverick, huh. Jack thought inwardly to himself. Right.... He's the dude who owns the pharmaceutical company mom works at – The Faraday Laboratories. What a nickname. But the dude's real name....

Jack frowned slightly as he drew blanks on what his face looked like or what his name was, which was strange to say the least. But perhaps, it made a bit of sense, as though the man himself was famous, he rarely did any interviews or publicity stunts. His public appearance over the years could be counted on one hand.

But Jack's situation was different. Because he was pretty sure of meeting the man controlling the multi-billion dollar global conglomerate before when he came here with his mom.

So why couldn't Jack recall the face of this billionaire? It was as if there was a thick veil of fog obscuring his mind. It sure made him feel somewhat anxious to meet this man who supposedly knew what was going on with him. The heavily beating heart in his chest was the proof of that feeling.

Jack placed a hand on his chest reflexively. Only then did he notice that all that pain from getting beat up by Cleo had largely subsided. Belatedly, he faintly sensed that there was some type of gentle, low-frequency humming coming from within the tower and that seemed to be the reason why he was feeling a lot better.

His fatigue progressively lessened to a point where he was feeling pretty relaxed and somewhat alert. Even with all of these improvements, he still couldn't remember the face nor the name, though.

Soon, the elevator came to a gentle stop. The polished golden doors swished and opened to the sides, revealing a long white oval-shaped corridor devoid of any decoration. If one looked at this hallway objectively, it was something out of a Science Fiction movie with a huge budget and a set designer with an aesthetically cold but creative mind.

At the end of the corridor, there was another white door but it seemed closed for the moment with no way of opening it manually.

“Please step into the corridor. Forgive me for the momentary inconvenience, but it is absolutely necessary for you guys to go through this hallway as the area beyond the door is hermetically sealed.”

The voice intoned gently and it also sounded a bit apologetic as well. Jack had no recollection of this particular corridor. Probably it was built after his visit ten years ago. Whatever the case may be, they had to step into it anyway as the elevator behind them resolutely closed its doors, cutting off the only retreat out of here.

So, forward it was.

Cleo was the first. She usually was. Erik was right after her and Lei brought up the rear. As for Jack... He only hesitated for a second before starting to walk forward himself.

And with every step he took, the faster his heart beat with the unbearable anticipation, a dread of things to come. Because, he knew. He knew that there was an existence just beyond those doors capable of shattering his life as he knew it. The moment he stepped through those doors, his life would spiral out of his meager control.

But he also knew that this existence could help him. He could help Jack find a way out of this supernatural mystery. He could be the only one, in fact. Jack had to enter through those doors, even if it cost him his sanity.

The corridor darkened slowly and a hiss of air ejecting from somewhere came from above, from the sides, and even from the floor. A gentle but cold blast of air wrapped the group in its embrace. Then, a blast of hot air – followed by another cold one, but this time accompanied by the smell of chemicals that reminded Jack of disinfectants, only much stronger in its acrid sourness.

The alternating blasts of air continued for a few minutes before they stopped completely and the corridor brightened once more.

“Thank you for your patience, guys. Please, step forward. Come in.”

The metallic doors at the end of the corridor slid open almost soundlessly and Jack could just about make out the white walls and objects beyond. He didn't see nor sense anything threatening from as far as the view was concerned, but still remained cautious and took a steady and measured step forward while doing his best to reign in the pounding heart.

It wasn't as successful as he hoped for, however. His heart continued to beat madly as Jack's foot slid past the door frame and directly into the chamber beyond.

He was immediately bathed in soft but bright glare of multiple LED lamps placed strategically in several angles all over. And these lights were illuminating several dozens of tall, large glass cabinets with incredibly thick glasses which even the naked eyes could discern quite easily.

Within each of these cabinets lay a stone tablet, the kind that Moses might have descended down Mount Sinai with. On it, ancient runes and symbols that should be nothing more than some incomprehensible chicken scratch were carefully carved into the surface.

Yet, when Jack took a casual glance at those carvings, he nearly gasped out in shock. Because he could read them.

He blinked his eyes for a good few seconds, but that didn't really help. He could actually read them just fine, as if the bizarre words carved into these tablets were the very language he'd been speaking until now.

He had never, ever seen them – the letters, the stone tablets – before in his life. Not on television, not in a book, nor in the numerous websites of Internet. His heart pounded harder, madder. He felt like his chest might explode now. His entire being was prickling dangerously. No one could tell that other than himself but even Jack wasn't sure of what he was feeling right in this moment.

Each of the cabinets had a polished bronze plaque attached in front with English translation of what was written on the tablet inside. Erik glanced over at the nearest one and murmured slowly.

“The Epic of Gilgamesh... Hmm. I heard that it was the oldest recorded story yet found. So these letters are cuneiforms, huh? But wow, they are so well preserved, as if someone carved them out yesterday.”

Jack's mind almost reeled in dizziness. Gilgamesh? I know that name, don't I?! But where did I hear that name before? Did I.... from the memory/dream?

Beyond the stone tablets, countless murals, some of them gigantic, adorned all of the walls, also encased in the thick layer of protective glass. The depictions of a tall, mustached man fighting against a humanoid creature, then a massive monster that resembled an ape and a bull mixed together, as well as numerous other fantastical creatures were vividly recreated on them. The more one gazed on these expressive murals, the more convinced the one became of these figures actually possessing life and thus capable of moving on their own.

And in the center of the chamber, a huge blood-red armor with no owner, also encased in a thick glass cabinet. The way it was positioned, anyone could see that this was supposed to be the center of the attraction.

“Oh, wow, that's kickass,” said Cleo, her eyes shining at the sight of the majestic armor.

But the same couldn't be said for Jack's reaction. Because he recognized pretty much everything in this chamber. Each of the murals – almost all of them – were depictions of events Jack had seen in his dreams. His memories of the past. Only, his version was of course, far more life-like.

And when he saw the blood-red armor, all the pieces clicked into place.

“The Armor of Crimson Starlight....” Jack's words left his mouth before he realized it. He stood there, trembling. He totally, definitely recognized this armor. Much more than the others here.

The main protagonist of Jack's dream world was wearing this armor. He went off to countless battles with it. He fought against fearsome monsters with it. This armor formed a part of him.

In that dream, it was Jack who was wearing it.

Suddenly, his wildly beating heart stilled. An inexplicable nostalgic longing filled his whole being. Complicated emotions began to toy with him, making him wanting to break this glass open and reach out to the armor. To touch it, to feel it and wear it one more time.

“That is the armor that once belonged to the legendary God-King, Gilgamesh, or more correctly, Bilgamesh, as he was known back then.”

A cool, crisp voice came from behind one of the cabinets, surprising the group out of their silent observations of the many artifacts on display.

Jack reluctantly broke his gaze away from the armor and turned towards the source of the voice – the owner of the tower.

“....Mister Mylorne Akkad. We finally meet,” said Erik under his breath.

A man in early forties stepped out from behind the cabinet. He was devastatingly handsome in a completely indecipherable way. His ethnicity was hard to tell – he could be an Arab, he could be a Northern Caucasian or even Mediterranean. Greek? Egyptian? Indian? Eurasian?

His dark brown hair was shoulder length but neatly groomed. Just under six feet in height, he was neither too tall nor too short yet there was just something about the man that came off as powerful and imposing without even trying. Even Cleo withdrew slightly, instinctively sensing that this man was, for the lack of better word, not as simple as he looked, the gray T-shirt and a pair of washed-out jeans not weakening the impression one bit.

Jack was stunned into silence, though. The veil of fog shrouding his memories lifted as soon as he saw that face. And Jack could not believe his own eyes, nor could he trust his own mind. His legs shook, his fists were firmly clenched, beads of sweat were traveling down his backside like a waterfall.

Mylorne Akkad's warm blue eyes, with a trace of purple, studied the four youths before him. A gentle smile bore his lips before he sighed in relief.

“Thank goodness, you guys have arrived without any incident. I've been waiting for so long for this day to talk to you face to face. The anticipation has been killing me. Please, make yourselves at home.”

Erik stepped forward and took charge of the communication right away. “Mister Akkad. We are here now as you have suggested. We sacrificed a lot by coming here, so please.... can you just tell us what we are? Why were we taken from our homes and placed in the military compounds over ten years ago?”

Mylorne smiled wryly at the pointed questions. “Well, in order to enlighten you all, including Mister Mercer here, we need to start from the very beginning. Follow me.”

And follow they did. Past the artifact chamber was a wide, spacious living area decked out top to bottom in white furniture. White sofas, white coffee tables, white floor lamps, even the super-giant white flatscreen TV that dominated the entirety of the wall it was mounted on. The only injection of color in this otherwise barren desert of whiteness was several expensive paintings that even someone untrained in art as Jack could recognize.

But none of that mattered for the moment as Jack was intensely staring at the back of the head belonging to Mylorne Akkad, his mind a complete mess.

That face... that face!! He... No, it can't be. There is just no freaking way he's the same person!! It just can not be!!

The wide vista of the outside world was visible through the windows; the near-endless sea of green, the fencing of the perimeter, then the brown of the world beyond. Jack was briefly reminded of the view he got from the tower in his dreams; it wasn't a perfect carbon copy, but reasonably close. One more freakish coincidence for him to sweat over.

Didn't seem like a mere chance the longer Jack sweated over the details, however. And that made Jack palpitate in buckets. The last vestige of his common sense was about to break into pieces and he was desperately trying to hold on here. With every step he took, that task became harder and harder to accomplish.

Mylorne offered seats to his guests on the pristine white couch and sofas. They looked ultra expensive – so much so that, even Cleo was feeling a bit weird to sit her ass down on them. But Lei, who had stopped fiddling with her iPod, saw no issues whatsoever and plonked down without a single shred of hesitation. Seeing that, the rest slowly sat down too.

“Refreshments? Surely, your throats are parched from the lengthy and difficult journey.”

A simple snap of his fingers, and a white robot on wheels whirred out from a corner. It carried a tray of drinks and snacks. The machine then busily arranged the food on the white coffee table with utmost efficiency.

After having gone through some strange ordeal, Jack thought this sight rather fitting. The sun was beginning to set now, and if there was a lazy lounge music playing in the background then the whole thing would have been postcard perfect.

The trio of teens, Erik, Lei and Cleo looked down on the snacks arranged on the table before them, not sure of what to feel or to say. No, they were waiting for someone to break the ice. Preferably Mylorne Akkad, seeing that he was the one who engineered this meeting after all. Eventually, curious Cleo reached down and picked up a biscuit, slowly shoving it in her mouth.

Her eyes went round the moment she chewed it.

“Holy cow, it's delicious!!”

She then ravenously picked on the biscuits, devouring them like a hungry wolf.

Mylorne smiled pleasantly. “I'll serve dinner in due course, so in the meantime, please enjoy yourselves with these. There are enough for everyone so don't hold back.”

Erik decided to take the lead here since no one was capable of doing so in his eyes. Deciding to ignore Cleo, he leaned forward and took on a more serious tone. “Mister Akkad, please tell us what is going on. I've been holding onto those questions for over ten years now. I don't think I can wait any longer.”

Lei pulled out her earphones as well, the first time Jack saw her do that. Her face was emotionless but her deep, dark eyes seemed to gleam with desire for the truth as well. Seeing the intensity of the two, Jack kept quiet, choosing to hold back his own questions for now. Even if he were to ask them right here, he figured that no satisfactory answer would be forthcoming.

Nodding, Mylorne sighed and slowly waved his hand. This brought up the curtains that automatically closed up the vast expense of the windows. The living room darkened significantly and the TV screen flickered into life.

“Let me start from the very beginning. It's going to be a long story, so please, bear with me for a while.”

~

The date was February 11th, 1979.

The location? A dusty and mountainous region somewhere in Iran, closer to the Persian Gulf than to the heart of the Arabian Peninsula.

There was almost nothing here, unless one counted endless sea of sand as something useful to a person. The way Professor Evans saw it, the blowing sand was a dastardly enemy he had to struggle against every single day.

He looked at the wristwatch; it was only twenty past nine in the morning. The desert in the late winter could become prohibitively cold too, which was something most people initially wouldn't have guessed.

Pulling the wool jumper close to his cheeks, Evans drew in a deep breath and turned back towards the peak of the hill. Near the top, a cave entrance could be seen, as well as a bevy of activities precipitated by a group of workers and archaeologists.

Evans came out of that very cavern not too long ago to get himself a breath of fresh, cold air. The night before had been too damn exhilarating and his heart couldn't simply take the strain if he stayed in there any longer. Now that he got his intake of the refreshing air, his head was much clearer than before.

His neck ached slightly so he roughly massaged it as he ascended the hill. His assistant, Donald, was waving his hands animatedly at the relatively young and brilliant professor once their eyes met.

“Professor!! Come and take a look!! We've got something on the monitor!! The camera found something unbelievable!! It's incredible, sir!!”

“Yeah, yeah. I'm coming, Donald. Hold your pants on, will you.”

Chuckling, Evans hurried his steps and entered the cave. The naturally formed mouth of the cavern didn't extend too deep before the man made walls began to appear on all sides. Pristine murals, hieroglyphs and various statues and stone steles decorated the interior, denoting its incredible wealth as potentially the archaeological find of this century.

Countless lights were placed on the floor as well as on the walls to better illuminate all these priceless relics of the now-forgotten part of the history, highlighting many unusual symbols, runes, design flourishes and carving techniques on the myriad of surfaces present.

But oddly, the entire chamber didn't seem all that big, no more than that of a, say, a fast-food restaurant's eating area. Evans and his team of course knew why this was so. They were well aware of the fact that all these items in front of their eyes weren't everything this... tomb had to offer. They spent weeks trying to locate the hidden chamber and the passageway that would lead them into it.

And they had found it last night. A small hole was drilled into the wall facing North and a PVC pipe with an advanced military-grade infrared camera inserted inside was placed within this hole.

The live feed was directed to the large banks of monitors set up near the wall in question, away from the devastating elements outside. The guy charged with operating all these expensive equipment sat on a chair in front, holding what looked like an ill-formed pleasure toy for the ladies.

Setting everything up took the whole night and carrying around the heavy equipment like a twenty-year-old freshman had done in Evans' neck. Nothing could beat the relentless advent of time, it seemed. But he sure didn't care when the breakthrough he had chased for all his life was just around the corner.

On the monitor, the hidden chamber showed itself. It was obviously dark – very dark. But even then, a faint outline of a huge, monolithic item could be seen. Evans felt his heartbeat rise at an alarming rate, the smile pasted on his face growing even faster.

“It's THE sarcophagus. Can you position the camera closer? With more light? We need to see it better, on that side. Yeah, there, right there!!”

Evans pointed at the screen when the familiar cuneiforms showed up on it. The beaming smile solidified and even if he tried, he wouldn't be able to undo it for the next ten weeks. That's how good he felt right this moment.

The vindication he was feeling was indescribable; all the ridicule he'd received from his peers, all the weary gazes thrown at his way by the potential financiers. Enduring all that was totally worth it. Now, Evans could confidently shout at their conceited faces, “Eat this, you cheap, unbelieving pieces of....!!”

“Hmm?”

Donald noticed something on the monitor and shook Evans on the shoulder. “Look, professor. Look at that glowing thing, there on the corner.”

“What glowing thing?!”

Evans irritably slapped Donald's hand off his shoulder and leaned in closer to take a look.

Indeed, there was something that faintly glowed in the dark, near the sarcophagus. The image quality was too vague to tell what it was.

“Probably a surface reflecting the light from the camera, nothing more,” Evans said dismissively. “Don't stop. Keep on going and get closer to the sarcophagus until we can see more details. Come on, man!! Do hurry up!!”

The camera operator crinkled his brows but nodded his head and continued to manipulate the joystick. The camera closed in on the glowing thing and when it got close enough, the inevitable thing happened – the two touched.

Suddenly, the entire hill shook violently for a second. Everyone, even the ones outside, felt the tremor.

“An earthquake?!” Donald gasped and ducked below the banks of monitors faster than a speeding bullet.

Evans quickly scanned around after steadying himself, and found nothing was amiss – no falling debris, no loose rocks tumbling down on them, no nothing.

Shaking his head nervously, Evans shouted. “Hey, is everyone alright? Do a head count, Donald. Confirm that everyone is accounted for!!”

As soon as the words left his lips, the hill creaked again and shook even harder, this time for a longer period. The entire tomb shook and Evans fell on his butt, hard. So did the man operating the cameras, he too fell down and tried to hide under the whatever he could crawl beneath.

Sparks flew as the electric cords got violently tangled up and snapped, the monitors dying in an instant. And incredibly, the whole wall where the hole was drilled into, began to separate into two. Lots and lots of dust and sand fell on the crowd near it, including on Evans' head.

The commotion continued for a minute as the wall completely split open, becoming a lengthy passageway leading to the burial chamber. Once the doors were fully opened, the shaking stopped and the deafening silence returned to the tomb. Of course, the camera equipment, as expensive as they were, were completely ruined, sucked into the wall along with the doors. But Evans was too elated to care for the cost.

Clearing his throat, he shouted. “Do the head count, Donald!! Make sure everyone is alright!! And go and find Mohammed and Salim!! Hey, what are you waiting for?! Go, I say!! Time is precious!! From the very first moment this chamber opened up, it's being irreparably damaged by the contact with the outside air!! Hurry, man!!”

After giving out the orders, Evans snapped on the flashlight and shined its light on the dark passageway. The walls were smooth, no murals nor writings on them. He didn't find signs of those deadly traps popularized by old adventure serials he used to watch as a child either. Which left him with a mixed bag of emotions, part of it relief and the other part very, very small disappointment.

The air was sterile, dank with mold, and smelt just a bit.... like an old burial chamber. But that only served to excite Evans further.

Drinking in the odor of his victory, Evans carefully stepped inside the dark chamber and slowly advanced forward while continuously shining the light everywhere.

And soon, the light of his torch landed on the large sarcophagus.

Evans sucked in the air. He uttered under his breath. “Beautiful...”

He was now in a dome-shaped chamber, with the sarcophagus placed smack dab in the middle. The entire chamber's size exceeded well over that of a large mausoleum, granting Evans more than enough room to move around.

The light shined on the walls, and he drew in another sharp breath. There were so many cuneiforms adorning the walls here, it was just plainly insane. And even on a cursory glance, they were of different content from what was recorded on the outside. This was beyond a major discovery now. Evans had struck not only gold, but platinum, diamond, and plutonium all at once!!

He chuckled heartily to himself before noticing a small pedestal right next to the sarcophagus. The broken PVC pipe with the camera was lying on the ground next to it. On top of this strange pedestal, he saw a crystal that was rapidly losing its radiance.

“Is that what reflected the light from the camera?”

Evans frowned slightly and approached it, wondering just what purpose this thing served in a tomb. The height of the pedestal made it ideal for a grown man to stand still and press down on it as if it was a switch of some kind....

A brief thought flashed by in his head. What if this was the button to operate the walls? I mean, after all, the camera bumped into it and then the wall began to move....

Evans stared at the pedestal and the crystal for a second before snapping out of his thoughts.

No way. Nothing like this pedestal or the crystal could be found outside the burial chamber. That means it's only in here. But what purpose would that serve?! Seriously, now – unless the dead guy decides to stand up suddenly and go for a stroll or some such nonsense...

Evans quickly threw the notion away. It was a ridiculous idea to begin with, anyways, so he saw no point in having it occupy a corner of his valuable mind.

Next, he studied the cuneiforms on the sarcophagus itself. The more he deciphered, the more excited he became.

“Gilgamesh, finally I found you. Welcome to the 20th Century.”

Chuckling, Evans tenderly touched the lid and sighed. It was then Donald came inside the chamber with a photographer in tow.

“Professor!! Everyone's alright. Salim's got a light bruising but he'll be fine after some treatment. I've brought Mohammed in the meantime.”

“Good, good. Mohammed, please work your magic, my good man!! Because today, we are going to be famous!! Famous, I tell you!!”

Evans beamed brightly and vigorously slapped the photographer, Mohammed, on his shoulders.

“Whatever you say, professor.” Mohammed smiled wryly before hoisting his expensive camera and began to see through the lens. “We'll need a lot of lights in here, Donald. Can you organize at least half a dozen?”

While the two of them were discussing the logistics of the lighting, Evans took another lengthy look at the walls.

Eventually, the wide smile slowly faded and was replaced by a more solemn expression. He pulled out his notebook and began to hurriedly jot down the rough translations. That was because the stuff he was reading right now.... barely made sense.

It didn't even read like the usual cuneiforms either, with several unknown letters and symbols popping up everywhere, greatly confusing the professor. And he was someone possessing a lot of pride at being the preeminent expert on the long-dead language of the ancient Sumeria and Mesopotamia. But even he couldn't bridge the gap here.

That was because from what he could understand so far, made him wonder if someone was pulling a practical joke on him.

What the hell.... is this? Why is it talking about some sort of cataclysmic war between the gods and.... men? And according to this, it hasn't even taken place yet? Huh? And what the heck is this about the village chief of black? No, wait – that's not right. Uh.... how about.... the lord of darkness? Hmm, that sounds better....

No, wait a freaking minute here, it does not sound better. What the hell is this?! Is this a goddamn fairy tale?! A Lord of Darkness? You must be kidding me.

Donald and Mohammed called out to Evans then and told him that they were stepping outside for a bit to get the rest of the lighting equipment. Evans, feeling somewhat hot under the collar, nodded his head without turning his head around, afraid that the two might figure something out from his current befuddled expression.

After they left him alone, Evans frowned and held his head. No matter how much he pondered, he couldn't figure out what was going on. This was definitely the tomb of Gilgamesh the God-King, that much he was sure of.

But the hell was all that about this cautionary tale of warfare? All he could think about was that the fault, the reason for his confusion, lied with the damn indecipherable cuneiforms. It had to be.

And the state of those letters weren't so hot, either. A few of them were damaged. Well, it wasn't like he could translate them right away even if they were fine, but still.

Feeling frustrated, Evans brushed one of the confusing cuneiforms. He meant nothing by that gesture; it was something he wouldn't have done if he was in the right frame of mind. But he wasn't, and that's when the rest of his life took a different turn.

The particular symbols depicting the Lord of Darkness slid in and an audible click could be heard from behind the wall. Evans stiffened. He had no time to back away before a ray of red light shot out from the sarcophagus and filled his head with indescribable, terrifying images, of the past and the future.

By the time Donald returned with the crew to set the lighting equipment, they found Evans slumped on the floor, hyperventilating.

The crew rushed him out of the tomb and brought him outside the cavern before the professor waved his hand and spoke to them. “I'm okay. I'm okay. Mohammed, Donald, take photos of everything inside, each and every symbol, letter, and rune and.... just take everything!! Since Salim's injured, get someone else to take the recorder and video tape every inch of that place. And I do mean every inch!! And also, we need to take the sarcophagus out of there!!”

“Calm down, professor!! You know we can't take out the coffin – that's inadvisable at this stage of the dig!!”

“Just do as I say, will you, Donald?” Evans tiredly said to his assistant as he was supported into the tent.

Before he could be settled down on a chair, though, loud whirring noises shattered the calm air.

Frowning, Evans stood up, ignoring the onslaught of dizziness. He hurriedly stepped outside the tent to find out the cause of the noise, only to witness three military helicopters landing by the foot of the hill, where the rest of the team's tents were pitched.

“What the.... what's going on here?” Donald muttered in confusion. “What's the U.S. Army doing here?”

Several soldiers poured out of the green helicopters. They then began to order the people around to do.... something, but since Evans and Donald were too far away they couldn't tell what that was all about.

Evans noticed a young-ish soldier rushing up to where he was. He was dressed differently to the other soldiers, denoting that he was an officer, not a grunt.

The soldier took off his aviator shades and offered his right hand. “Professor Evans?”

“Yes, I am he. And you are?”

“Second Lieutenant Jonathan Williams, U.S. Marine Corps. I've come to extract you and your men out of here, sir. We've got a situation developing at Tehran.”

“What? What situation?”

“There's been a coup. The remnant of Pahlavi regime has collapsed and as we speak, all American citizens are being evacuated from the country. You and your men are included in that as well.”

All of Evans' strength suddenly left his body. He crumpled on the spot, dejected and his voice weak and trembling in shock. “No, this can't be.... Lieutenant Williams, this... this place, do you know the significance of this place?! We can't.... I can't abandon this place!!”

“Sorry, Professor. I've got my orders, sir. And you are coming with me. Right now.”

A_Passing_Wanderer · Jun 14, 2017

Chapter 12

The date in Mylorne Akkad's story moved on, seven years later, to 1986.

The location was yet another desert – except, now it was in the middle of Nevada, not a remote location with an unpronounceable name in Persia.

There was a military helicopter flying towards a destination unmarked on any of the map. The early afternoon sunlight glistened off its slick paint, casting off sharp and somewhat dangerous rays to scorpions and geckos down below, making the denizens of this nameless patch of dirt scurrying about to escape the potential terror.

There was four people riding on it; two soldiers, one pilot, and a young Asian woman. Her face was apprehensive but curious. A hint of tiredness was visible on her if one looked a little closer.

The soldiers remained passive, opting to say nothing to each other nor to the young woman.

Finally, she had enough of the silent treatment and shouted at one of the soldiers. Unfortunately, her voice was drowned out by the roar of the spinning rotor above. The soldier pointed at her headphone, signaling her to use the mic attached to it.

It was her first time riding on a helicopter, a military one at that, so she didn't know. Blushing a little, she fiddled with the mic for a second before figuring out what to do. Once she could find that her voice could be heard by the other party, she repeated what she said before.

“Just how long am I going to ride this damnable thing?”

The soldier shook her head. “We'll be there shortly, Doctor Kim. Please remain patient.”

“You said the exact same thing for the last five times,” a very young and impatient Min-jung Kim, nee Mercer, sourly retorted. “Come on, give me something. Where are we going, anyway? I mean, there's practically nothing out here.”

“You'll see soon, ma'am. Please remain patient.”

“Call me ma'am again, and I'm jumping off this helicopter, get my drift?!” Min-jung gruntled unhappily.

Then she kneaded her aching head, wondering just what she signed up for here. It had been a month since that fateful day when a Professor she had never even heard of due to their differing field of studies, showed up on her doorway and enticed her with a tale of an exciting opportunity waiting for her.

He told her it was an unprecedented, monumental and perhaps even more importantly, a world-changing event, and she was very much suited to guiding this said event to its climax, or some such.

Min-jung just earned her second doctorate in genetics, the youngest in her field to do so. If there was a Guinness record for such a thing, she'd have a plaque with her name on it already. She was working on her third thesis when this Professor Evans showed up with the job offer.

The number on the paycheque made her eyes pop out of her sockets. She was still paying off her student loan and in arrears for a couple of months on her rent as well. Lately, she'd been filling her belly with cheap two-minute microwave noodles and felt like she was going insane from the lack of nutrition. So, the six-digit figure in black-and-white was seriously tempting. Too tempting to ignore, at least.

Against her better judgment, Min-jung agreed to dip her toes in, see what's what before fully committing to this... project that the Department of Defense was spearheading. If something smelled fishy, then she'd bail. She was young, there was so much of her life to live, and she understood that there would be many other opportunities for her in the future as well. No need to put her own neck on the chopping board if the crap hit the fan.

Even her boyfriend, Bob Mercer, thought it could do her a world of good, making all that money. And he was one of the most prudent boys out there – so much so, her very traditional parents gave consent for them to date only after the first meeting. So he knew what he was talking about, most of the time.

She could see that the soldier wasn't going to answer any differently no matter how she rejigged her questions; so, rather than adding on top of her already pulsing head, Min-jung decided to shrug her shoulders and endure. All for that fat paycheque with six digits scribbled on it.

Then, the pilot chimed in. “We're almost there, little miss. Look outside, you can already see the airfield.”

I'm not a little miss, though.... Min-jung grumbled inwardly but still peered outside the tiny window beside her head to see. Indeed, hidden within the rising dusty winds, she could see a convergence of gray, man-made forms. Landing strips, flat buildings, large hangars and a communication tower full of satellite dishes and the like.

The closer they got, she wondered who in their right minds would build a military facility all the way out here – but since she was being accompanied by the soldiers of the United States of America, the answer was pretty simple, really.

And as the helicopter slowly landed on one of the unoccupied landing pads, the pilot turned to her and laughed genially. “Thank you for flying with me, little miss. And welcome to Area 51.”

~

Instead of heading inside one of the flat buildings she saw before, Min-jung was ushered into a hangar. But it was not a hangar; once inside, that much was made emphatically clear.

There were literally dozens of tanks and heavy weaponry mounted on wheels, she briefly wondered whether she stepped into an active war zone by mistake. Funnily enough, those weapons were pointing inwardly, towards a structure that was unmistakably a huge elevator.

In front of the said elevator, a familiar face in his early fifties was waiting for her with a happy and expectant smile.

“Professor Evans, this is a strange set up you got going here,” said Min-jung as she shook the archaeologist's hand.

“Hahaha, well, unfortunately, it comes with the territory. But welcome to Area 51. I hope the ride itself was not too taxing.”

Min-jung glanced around the interior and whispered in a low voice.

“Uhm, this Area 51.... isn't this where the Roswell alien is kept or something? You are not going to ask me to examine a little green Martian corpse, are you?”

As cool as that sounded, that wasn't her area of expertise, after all....

“No, no. Don't worry about that, Doctor Kim. That's in another building. Where we are going, there aren't any little green men. Well, if you discount all the military hard-asses, that is.”

She chuckled politely, before stifling it when she noticed one of those military hard-asses standing right behind the professor. The man was chomping down on the cigar like he was trying to grind it to death. His eyes studied Min-jung for what felt like a long, long second before he nodded and introduced himself.

“Doctor Kim, I've heard about your work. Thank you for joining us. I'm in charge of the Project Dead Kings, Colonel Williams. Welcome.”

She swallowed a little and shook his hand politely.

“Professor, please bring her up to speed. I need to head out of the base as discussed. I'll leave it up to you.”

The Colonel spoke as he moved past Min-jung and headed outside without waiting for a reply.

Once he was out of earshot, Evans shook his head lightly. “A real piece of work, that guy. Well, let's head underground, Doctor.”

The two of them stepped onto the elevator; it shook slightly before descending down in a noisy manner. Min-jung observed the thickness of the floor, entirely built out of metal and sturdy enough to probably withstand a direct nuclear blast.

Below that, they arrived at a floor that reminded her of an office of some mid-level corporation. She saw both military and non-military personnel, walking around and doing their own things, occasionally pausing to greet the professor before moving on.

Then, they got on a smaller elevator and headed lower, deeper underground, into the belly of the earth. The display panel showed “-18” before the doors opened up, allowing Min-jung to exit and breath in the slightly stale air.

The professor took Min-jung into a conference room where a group of people, obviously researchers, were waiting for her. Evans introduced each of the members as well as their field of specialties, before taking her to the place. The Place where the meat of the project was currently stored.

She was led down a darkened corridor until a large metallic doorway. Evans keyed in the entrance code on the number pad next to the door and with a single beep, the thick doors slid open.

And almost immediately, Min-jung was confused by what she saw. It was as if she had walked in on a set of the latest Indiana Jones movie. In a bright lit area, the whole place was decorated to look like an ancient tomb with mock limestone walls placed like a dome, with weird scribbles carved on the surfaces. Right in the middle, there was a huge and impressive sarcophagus but, even with a single glance, she knew it was a fake, made out of some cardboard and glue.

Confused, she turned to look at the professor.

“Uhm, this place is....?”

“It's a mock-up of a tomb that I discovered seven years ago. See that sarcophagus? That thing, as well as all the writings on these walls, are the main reason why you're here today, doctor.”

“Okay... I still don't see why I'm needed here – unless you found some sort of genetic material in that sarcophagus and you want me to take a look at it. In that case, what does the U.S military want to do with all of that?”

“First thing first – some context. What you see here is a near perfect replica of the tomb. The God-King Gilgamesh's tomb, to be exact. You heard about his story?”

“No, not really. History has never been my strongest subject back in school...”

When Min-jung replied apologetically, Evans simply chuckled and shook his head. “That's alright. No high school would teach about the Epic of Gilgamesh; too specialized a subject for that. Rather, it holds an immense value in the archaeological societies as the first known written work of literature. Dating back over five thousand years ago, the Epic tells the tale of various stages in the God-King's life.”

“Uh, okay. But why a God-King?”

“Because, the writer – or the inscriber of the stone tablets, as it were – inferred that Gilgamesh was two-thirds a godly being and one-third a mortal. And he ruled his land, the Holy City of Uruk, as the undisputed King under the heavens using might and magic. Or so they wrote.”

Min-jung tilted her head, still not feeling where this was going.

“When I found this tomb back in '79, a coup in Iran made sure I could never be able to complete my research. But thankfully, the sarcophagus itself was taken back to the U.S soil, but the rest of the tomb's artifacts.... were left behind. I've tried to replicate as exactly as humanly possible, but....”

Sighing grandly, Evans laid his hand on top of the mock sarcophagus.

“But well, it is what it is. We all make do with what we've got. The original tomb site is now one of the most heavily guarded places on earth by Ayatollah's troops and it's unlikely we will ever get to go back there. If anything, Iranians would demand the return of Gilgamesh's sarcophagus instead.”

Finished with his quick regret-filled monologue, Evans then pointed towards the section of the wall.

“Here. This part over here, come and take a look. Looks so innocuous, doesn't it? But this part contains cuneiforms that even I can't decode. And I'm supposed to be the expert here. You remember Merrick and Boon? I got those two PhD holders, the best in their own fields, working on this full time. And they have even made any headway for the last five years.

“But from what we do know, is this. We are sitting on a time bomb. Metaphorically speaking, of course. And us lot, under hundreds of feet of concrete and metal, hidden from the unsuspecting world, we are the ones responsible for coming up with ways to stop that bomb from going off.”

“And archaeology has something to do with that? This tomb, this, uh, Gilgamesh person? Will all these things help us... prevent the explosion of this figurative bomb?”

“Precisely. Now, follow me.”

Evans guided Min-jung to another part of the underground lab. In here, the surroundings were immediately more familiar to her – a proper laboratory, equipped with the latest, state-of-the-art apparatus and computers, men and women in white lab coats, as well as the general air of things being, for the lack of more imaginative description, rather scientific.

The lab area was huge – at least three times the size of the mock tomb next door. But both spaces had one thing in common.

And that was the huge sarcophagus in the middle.

“That, Doctor Kim, is Gilgamesh's sarcophagus. And he's inside of it, waiting for you to pry open the secrets hidden within his genes,” said Evans as reverence fiercely burned in his eyes.

Min-jung sucked in a cold breath. She could tell this time it was the real thing. The mere presence alone could confirm that. It had this indescribable, ancient aura that seemed to actively decay the very flow of air around it, suffocating anyone who dared to approach closer.

Good thing then, as a layer upon layer of glass barriers lay between it and her.

“You want me to take a look at this dead guy's genes? But you said he'd been around five millenniums ago. Depending on how well he was preserved, the genetic materials would've been too damaged for a good look. And forensic examination isn't my field of expertise, Professor Evans. Cloning, and gene therapy, is.”

Chuckling lightly, Evans shook his head. “That's not it, Doctor. Over here. In this file. And... please, do keep an open mind.”

Evans was handed a single but thick file from a lab tech. He promptly gave it to Min-jung so she could peruse the contents. The result was that she became flabbergasted by what was written in there.

“You... Are you serious?! Is this why you called me here for?”

Evans nodded solemnly. “Yes. It must be done. But the question is.... can you? Can you give yourself to the program? Are you willing to make the ultimate sacrifice as a person of science? For the betterment of mankind?”

~

“So, what happened next?”

Cleo asked in between the mouthful of the finest A-grade beef steak she ever had the pleasure to chew on.

Mylorne's tale took them well into the late evening. The dinner as promised was served and it was truly sumptuous. A feast for sore eyes, of a lifetime, whatever – it was that grand.

On top of that, Mylorne Akkad was a good, nay a great, storyteller. He knew just where to pause for a break, when to use the correct body language to convey the emotions, and which words to use in order to build the expectations of his audience members.

“Doctor Mercer accepted the position of the head researcher of gene manipulation for the project. The initial progress was slow, but then, more and more tombs of the past kings and heroes were unearthed, resulting in the increase of the sample pool. Eventually, the previous bottleneck encountered by the project showed the sign of finally being breached. Doctor Mercer's brilliant theories and thesis broke past the difficult challenge of successfully augmenting humans with cloned genes of Supers. Supers who were stronger than the current crop, at any rate.”

Akkad smiled ruefully as he took a slow sip of the red wine. He didn't seem to be too happy about what he was saying.

Jack, in the meantime, was slightly surprised to see him not favoring the white wine, though – after all, almost everything about this place was decorated in creepy white. The dining table, for instance – white. The plates, white. Forks and knives, also white. Good thing the served food wasn't white, otherwise Jack would have to politely decline the meal.

Besides, he felt like hiding in a corner at the moment. After all, to think, that his mother was somewhat complicit in what had happened to Erik, Cleo and Lei. And even himself. Their judgmental eyes after the revelation were especially hard to bear.

But the fact that her own son was a test subject soon brought himself some pity as well, so there was that. Such a thing did not make him feel any better, though. If anything, it was a small miracle that he was able to even put food in his mouth and sense the texture of whatever he was chewing on then.

“It's still a mystery how Professor Evans was able to secure a massive funding from the Department of Defense. But I guess the power of the sarcophagus proved to be too persuasive in nature. An ancient Super that surpassed all the current living ones – being able to keep a leash on such a powerful entity must have been a rather attractive proposition for the folks in Washington.”

Jack wasn't even sure what that meant. Why would Washington, the capital city of his country be tempted about something like this? What about human rights and civil liberty? Or was he simply being a naive, sheltered kid from the middle class who knew nothing and suspected nothing?

“Now, the long story is at its climax. With Doctor Min-jung Mercer's help, the program made a breakthrough in the form of a successful batch of babies containing gene samples of Gilgamesh. But, as it often is the case, the first experimentation did not go well – resulting in all the children born to wither away and eventually die. Obviously, that was not how things should have been.

“But the discoveries of various tombs of famed warriors and kings and heroes – and their still preserved genetic materials – meant the scientists could try their hands with all sorts of permutations. A batch after batch of children was born, to varying degrees of success. Some manifested powers right away, some haven't, even until now. Most perished, either due to birth defects, psychotic breakdowns or due to sheer bad luck.

And then – there are the G children. You guys. Thirteen children, born with their DNAs augmented by various legendary figures' genes, and all of that glued securely by Gilgamesh's genetic structure.

“And you, Mister Mercer, the very last to awaken his set of powers. The final child of group codenamed G.”

Jack grimaced a little. He wanted to say something, anything to refute that, but seeing that he indeed had powers now, what could he possibly say?

There was an uncomfortable silence that flowed slowly as everyone stared at Jack. Their gazes held different emotions, but all of them made him feel really awkward.

After a short while, Lei broke her usual character of not saying a damn thing if not needed and asked. “Okay, fine. We're some test subjects by men in suits. We get that. But why? Because of some kind of ancient prophecy found in a five thousand year old tomb of a long-dead guy? Isn't that a bit nonsensical?”

Akkad smiled softly. “Indeed. But look at the bigger picture. From the data Evans compiled in those ten years, it's clear that a Super – gosh, I hate that word so much – possessing a set of abilities so frightening, he or she could be comparable to the devil would rise to fill that role of the Lord of Darkness.

“And today, we have more and more Supers emerging from all corners of the society. Some well meaning, some not so much. Now, in the political climate of The Cold War between the Soviets and the U.S., can you just imagine the faces of those in power hearing of a possibility to build an army of loyal combatants to stave off the threat of global destruction. And most importantly, keep the emerging population of Supers under control as well? It is no brainer in this regard.”

“An army of Supers,” intoned Erik, sounding rather gloomy. “Like us.”

“Correct.”

At the quick confirmation, Erik sunk deep into his chair, the rest of his meal left untouched on the plate. It was the same with Lei and Jack, except Cleo was busy licking the empty plate clean. She obviously read the heavy atmosphere the last, and frowned deeply, before pointing down at the plates of her companions.

“Hey, if you are not planning to finish those, you don't mind, right?”

“Help yourself,” Erik spoke without mirth.

Mylorne Akkad smiled gently. “There is plenty to go around, so please, do not worry. If you need a second helping, I will organize for you. Miss Costanza.”

Cleo nodded. “Sure!! But it's such a waste to throw away all these good stuff, you know!! It's a bad habit, so I gotta do this right first.”

In silence, the meal was completed. Akkad told everyone that the accommodation for them was ready if they wanted to stay for the night. Erik and his group had no reason to refuse, but as for Jack....

“Let us speak later in private, Mister Mercer. There is something else we need to discuss...”

That was what Mylorne said in a whisper when he and Jack were out of other's earshot. Jack sort of had an inkling as to why Mylorne Akkad wanted a meeting with no one else attending it. After all, Jack was itching to talk to the billionaire as well, so it was a good opportunity.

The white robots led the kids to their respective accommodation. Akkad watched them, a soft smile of relief on his handsome face.

Then, a small beep rose from the Bluetooth earpiece he wore. Akkad tapped it lightly and replied. “Yes?”

A robotic female voice came on. “Sir, Doctor Mercer is on line 3. She says it's urgent. Should I patch her through?”

Akkad contemplated for a moment, before shaking his head. “No. Tell her I'm busy. And track her call location.”

“Understood.”

Meanwhile, oblivious to it all, Jack checked out his guest room and as expected, everything here was white as well. Sighing, he sat on the edge of the bed and fished out his phone. The “No Signal” sign was still written large on the corner.

He slowly shook his head, unable to digest the information. To think.... that his mother actually used him as a guinea pig in her own experiments. But still, something didn't make sense. She no longer worked for the government. So how was she able to get out of that? And why wasn't he taken from his home, like Erik, Lei and Cleo?

Maybe talking to Mylorne Akkad in private could shed the light on my own situation. I feel that.... I'm not supposed to be the same as Cleo and others.

Jack rubbed his chest. The pain was almost all gone. As ever, his own recuperative ability surprised him. One more sign that he was a Super, and definitely related to this Gilgamesh without a doubt.

Those memories – could they be Gilgamesh's? If so, then how the hell am I seeing them?

Jack massaged his forehead as a dull thud began beating there. It was rather unpleasant to endure. He looked around to see if there was a bathroom and found it. It was also blindingly white as well. Splashing cold water on his face did little to soften the ache, however.

Hah. Ask for an aspirin? Since it's white in color, maybe he has it in the medicine cabinet. Probably....

When Jack emerged from the white bathroom, a robot was waiting for him. It brought a change of clothing, all his sizes. And it also carried a message from Mylorne Akkad.

It was time.

~

Meanwhile, Min-jung was frantically pacing back and forth in the corridor, ignoring the looks the passersby were giving her.

She tried to redial the number but it was the same. The robotic female voice repeated the same thing over and over again.

“Mister Akkad is busy at the moment. Please call again later. Thank you for your patience.”

Min-jung felt like throwing the phone down but held back the urge.

The report of the three “G” coded children appearing in her suburb finally arrived at the hidden military base, sending the men here into a fit of a relative hysteria. Causing damage to civilian property was bad enough, but according to the reports, a civilian was even kidnapped as well. This was spelling a disaster. General Williams was fending off calls from Washington, his cigar progressively getting shorter and shorter as he chomped on it aggressively.

As for Min-jung, she just came out to take a breather from all the hectic happenings, only for her phone to pick up the signal and receive the messages her daughter left behind. All fifty plus of them.

That's when she learned of the kidnapped civilian was none other than her own son. So, she was understandably upset.

But she wasn't an idiot. She began putting two and two together.

The fact that the subjects G-9, G-10 and G-11 could escape the heavily-fortified Fort McGinley was suspicious enough, but the fact that they could disappear off the grid alone made her think of one man and his incredible reach – her boss, Mylorne Akkad.

That man was capable of orchestrating something like this. After all, he was also instrumental in her having Jack....

She intensely regretted getting in the business relationship with him. It was too late now. She should have suspected something was afoot back then when Akkad sent her that suspect message when Jack was still in the hospital.

If her hunch was correct, then that Gilgamesh-mad billionaire was currently with her son at this moment. The thought alone gave her chills. She figured that Akkad was in that white tower of his. She knew where it was. Now, only if she could get away from here....

Williams had the whole place under lockdown. No one was allowed to leave or enter until the trio of the escapees were captured or sighted. Min-jung thought about telling the general about her suspicions but that also meant exposing her secret dealings with Akkad so that option was out. She was not in a position to do something that could get her into further trouble.

It was all so infuriating. She had to get to her son before Mylorne Akkad filled Jack's head with things he shouldn't know of. The time was against her side.

Wow, I was in a real scramble to finish this chapter. I wrote the first draft about two thirds of the way when I realized it was just not working for some reason. So, I had to rip the guts out and started from the beginning - the first draft looks nothing like the one I'm posting now. And that's my excuse of the late posting. Heh. But it's the truth!!

Anyways, please enjoy it and as ever, any constructive criticism is welcome.

Edit (14th June):

Chapter 12: The Reasoning

The date in Mylorne Akkad's story moved on, seven years later, to 1986.

The location was yet another desert – except, now it was somewhere in the god-forsaken dried up Nevada, not a remote location saddled with an unpronounceable name in the middle of Persia.

A single military helicopter was flying towards a destination that was unmarked on most maps. The early afternoon sunlight glistened off its slick paint, casting off sharp and somewhat dangerous rays to scorpions and geckos down below, making the denizens of this nameless patch of dirt scurrying about to escape the potential danger.

There were four people riding on it; two soldiers, one pilot, and a young Asian woman. Her face was apprehensive but curious. A hint of tiredness was visible on her expressions if one observed a little closer.

The soldiers remained passive, opting to say nothing to each other nor to the young woman.

Finally, she had enough of the silent treatment and shouted at one of the soldiers. Unfortunately, her voice was drowned out by the roar of the spinning rotors above. One of the soldiers pointed at her headphone, signaling her to use the mic attached to it to talk.

It was her first time riding on a helicopter, a military one at that, so she didn't know. Blushing a little, she fiddled with the mic for a second before figuring out what to do. Once she found that her voice could be heard by the other party, she repeated what she said before.

“Just how long am I going to ride this damnable thing for?”

The soldier shook his head. “We'll be there shortly, Doctor Kim. Please remain patient.”

“You said the exact same thing five times already,” a very young and impatient Min-jung Kim, nee Mercer, retorted testily. “Come on, give me something. Where are we going, anyway? I mean, there's practically nothing out here.”

“You'll see soon, ma'am. Please remain patient.”

“Call me ma'am again, and I'm jumping off this helicopter right this moment, get my drift?!” Min-jung gruntled unhappily.

Then she kneaded her aching head, slightly concerned about what she had signed up for.

A month ago, on that fateful day, a Professor whom she'd never even heard of due to their differing field of studies, showed up on her doorway and enticed her with a tale of an exciting opportunity quite unlike any other waiting for her if she chose to participate.

This professor told her it was an unprecedented, monumental and perhaps even more importantly, a world-changing event, and she was very much suited to guiding this said event to its climax, or some such.

Min-jung just earned her second doctorate in genetics, the youngest in her field to do so. If there was a Guinness record for such a thing, she'd have a plaque with her name on it already. She was working on her third thesis when this Professor Evans showed up with the job offer.

The number on the proposed paycheque made her eyes pop out of their respective sockets. She was still paying off her student loan and in arrears for a couple of months on her rent as well. Lately, she'd been filling her belly with cheap two-minute microwave noodles and felt like she was going insane from the lack of nutrition. So, the six-digit figure in black-and-white was seriously tempting. Too tempting to ignore, at least.

Against her better judgment, Min-jung agreed to dip her toes in, see what's what before fully committing to this... project that the Department of Defense was spearheading. If something smelled fishy, then she'd bail. She was young, there was so much of her life left to live, and she understood that there would be many other opportunities for her in the future as well. No need to put her own neck on the chopping board if the crap hit the fan.

Even her boyfriend, Bob Mercer, thought it could do her a world of good, making all that money. And he was one of the most prudent boys out there – so much so, her very traditional parents gave consent for them to date after only one Sunday dinner together. So he knew what he was talking about, most of the time.

She could see that the soldier wasn't going to answer any differently no matter how many times she rejigged her questions. So, rather than adding more irritation on top of her already pulsing head, Min-jung decided to shrug her shoulders and endure. All for that fat paycheque with six digits scribbled on it.

Then, the pilot chimed in. “We're almost there, little miss. Look outside, you can almost see the airfield.”

I'm not a little miss, though.... Min-jung grumbled inwardly but still peered outside the tiny window beside her head to see. Indeed, hidden within the rising dusty winds, she could see a convergence of several gray, man-made structures. Landing strips, flat buildings, large hangars and a communication towers full of satellite dishes and the like.

The closer they got, she wondered who in their right minds would build a military facility all the way out here – but since she was being accompanied by the soldiers of the United States of America, the answer was right in front of her already.

And as the helicopter slowly landed on one of the unoccupied landing pads, the pilot turned to her and laughed genially. “Thank you for flying with me, little miss. And welcome to Area 51.”

~

Instead of heading inside one of the flat buildings she saw before, Min-jung was ushered into a hangar. But as it turned out, it was not a hangar; once inside, that much was made emphatically clear to her.

There were literally dozens of massive tanks and heavy weaponry mounted on wheels parked here, all ready to unleash hell at the drop of a hat. She briefly wondered whether she stepped into an active war zone by mistake. Funnily enough, those weapons were pointing inwardly, towards a structure that was unmistakably a huge elevator.

In front of the said elevator, a familiar face in his early fifties was waiting for her with a happy and expectant smile.

“Professor Evans, this is a strange set up you got going here,” said Min-jung as she shook the archaeologist's hand.

“Hahaha, well, unfortunately, it comes with the territory. But welcome to Area 51. I hope the ride itself was not too taxing, Doctor Kim.”

Min-jung glanced around the interior and whispered in a low voice.

“Uhm, this Area 51.... isn't this the place where the Roswell aliens are kept or something like that? It is, yes? Uhm, you are not going to ask me to examine a little green Martian corpse, are you?”

As cool as that sounded, that wasn't her area of expertise, after all....

Min-jung cringed slightly at the mere thought of dissecting an alien specimen with vacant black eyes staring at her from a cold examination table.

“No, no, no. Don't worry about that, Doctor Kim. That's in another building. Where we are going, there aren't any little green men. Well, if you discount all the military hard-asses here, that is.”

She chuckled politely, before stifling it when she noticed one of those military hard-asses standing right behind the professor. The man was chomping down on the cigar like he was trying to grind it to death. His eyes studied Min-jung for what felt like a long, long second before he nodded and introduced himself.

“Doctor Kim, I've heard about your work. Thank you for joining us. I'm in charge of the Project Dead Kings, Colonel Williams. Welcome.”

She swallowed a little and shook his hand politely. “Oh, yes. Uhm, thank you for having me, Colonel.”

“Professor, please bring her up to speed. I need to head out of the base as discussed. I'll leave it up to you.”

The Colonel spoke as he briskly moved past Min-jung and headed outside without waiting for a reply, a pair of adjutants hurriedly following behind.

Once the Colonel and his lackeys were out of earshot, Evans shook his head lightly. “A real piece of work, that guy. Well, they come in all shapes and sizes in this world. Why don't we head underground, Doctor? Please, allow me.”

The two of them stepped onto the elevator; it shook slightly before descending down in a noisy manner. Min-jung observed the thickness of the floor, now visible as the elevator lacked what some people might refer to as proper doors, instead some flaky metal fences acted as the only barrier. The floor was incredibly thick and sturdy enough to probably withstand a direct nuclear blast.

Below that, they arrived at a floor that reminded her of an office of some mid-level corporation. She saw both the military and non-military personnel, walking around and doing their own things, occasionally pausing to greet the professor before moving on.

Then, they got on a smaller elevator and headed lower, deeper underground, into the belly of the earth. The display panel showed “B10” before the doors opened up, allowing Min-jung to exit and breath in the slightly stale air. The ventilation must've been not very effective this deep underground.

The professor took Min-jung into a conference room where a group of people, obviously researchers, were waiting for their arrival. Evans introduced each of the members as well as their field of specialties, before taking her to “the place.” The Place where the origin of the project was faithfully recreated.

She was led down a darkened corridor until a large metallic doorway blocked the further progress. Evans keyed in the entrance code on the number pad next to the door and with a single beep, the thick doors slid open.

And almost immediately, Min-jung was confused by what she saw. It was as if she had walked in on a set of the latest Indiana Jones movie. In a brightly lit area, the whole place was decorated to look like an ancient tomb with mock limestone walls placed in a dome with weird scribbles “carved” on the surfaces. Right in the middle, there was a huge and impressive sarcophagus but, even with a casual glance, she knew it was a fake, made out of some cardboard and glue.

Confused, she turned to look at the professor.

“Uhm, this place is....?”

“It's a mock-up of a tomb that I discovered seven years ago. See that sarcophagus? That thing, as well as all the writings on these walls, are the main catalyst why you're here today, doctor.”

“Okay... I still don't see why I'm needed here, though. Unless you found some sort of genetic material in that sarcophagus and you want me to take a look at it. In that case, what does the U.S military want to do with all of these, uh, archaeological things?”

“First thing first – some context. What you see here is a near perfect replica of the tomb. The God-King Gilgamesh's tomb, to be exact. You heard about his story?”

“No, not really. History has never been my strongest subject back in school...”

When Min-jung replied apologetically, Evans simply chuckled and shook his head. “That's alright. No high school would teach about the Epic of Gilgamesh; too specialized a subject for that. Rather, it holds an immense value in the archaeology as the oldest surviving written work of literature yet found. The original stone tablets depicting the amazing journey of Gilgamesh are carbon dated to over five thousand years ago. Yes, it is pretty old.”

“Uh, okay. But why a God-King?”

“Because, the writers – or the inscribers of the stone tablets, as it were – inferred that Gilgamesh was two-thirds a godly being and one-third a mortal. And he ruled his land, the Holy City of Uruk, as the undisputed King under the heavens using might and magic. Or so they wrote.”

Min-jung tilted her head, still not feeling where this was going.

“When I found this tomb back in '79, a coup in Iran made sure I could never be able to complete my research. But thankfully, the sarcophagus itself was taken back to the U.S soil, but the rest of the tomb's artifacts.... were left behind. I've tried to replicate as exactly as humanly possible, but....”

Sighing grandly, Evans laid his hand on top of the mock sarcophagus.

“But well, it is what it is. We all make do with what we've got. The original tomb site is now one of the most heavily guarded places on earth by Ayatollah's troops and it's quite unlikely that we will ever get to go back there. If anything, Iranians would demand the return of Gilgamesh's sarcophagus instead.”

Finished with his quick regret-filled monologue, Evans then pointed towards the section of the wall.

“Here. This part over here, come and take a look. Looks so innocuous, doesn't it? But this part contains cuneiforms that even I can't decode. And I'm supposed to be the expert here. You remember the guys Merrick and Boon, back in the conference room? I got those two PhD holders, the best in their own fields, working on this puzzle full time. And they haven't even made any headway for the last five years.

“But from what we do know, is this. We are sitting on a time bomb. Metaphorically speaking, of course. And us lot, under hundreds of feet of concrete and metal, hidden from the unsuspecting world, we are the ones responsible for coming up with ways to stop that bomb from going off.”

“And archaeology has something to do with that? This tomb, this, uh, Gilgamesh person? Will all these things help us... prevent the explosion of this figurative bomb?”

“Precisely, with your help. Now, please follow me.”

Evans guided Min-jung to another part of the underground lab. In here, the surroundings were immediately more familiar to her – a proper laboratory, equipped with the latest, state-of-the-art apparatus and computers, men and women in white lab coats, as well as the general air of things being, for the lack of more imaginative description, rather scientific.

The lab area was huge – at least three times the size of the mock tomb next door. But both spaces had one thing in common.

And that was the huge sarcophagus in the middle.

“That, Doctor Kim, is Gilgamesh's real sarcophagus. And he's inside of it, waiting for you to pry open the secrets hidden within his genes,” said Evans as reverence fiercely burned in his eyes.

Min-jung sucked in a cold breath. She could tell this time it was the real thing. The mere presence alone could confirm that. It had this indescribable, ancient aura that seemed to actively decay the very flow of air around it, suffocating anyone who dared to approach closer.

Good thing then, as a layer upon layer of glass barriers lay between it and her.

“You want me to take a look at this dead guy's genes? But you said he'd been around five millenniums ago. Depending on how well he was preserved, the genetic materials would've been too damaged for a good look. And forensic examination isn't my field of expertise, Professor Evans. Cloning, and gene therapy, is.”

Chuckling lightly, Evans shook his head. “That's not it, Doctor. Over here. In this file. And... please, do keep an open mind.”

Evans was handed a single but thick file from a lab tech. He promptly gave it to Min-jung so she could peruse the contents. The result was that she became flabbergasted by what was written in there.

“You... Are you serious?! Is this why you called me here for?”

Evans nodded solemnly. “Yes. It must be done. But the question is.... can you? Are you able to give yourself wholeheartedly to the project? Are you willing to make the ultimate sacrifice as a person of science? For the betterment of mankind?”

~

“So, what happened next?”

Cleo asked in between the mouthful of the finest A-grade beef steak she ever had the pleasure to chew on.

Mylorne's tale took them well into the late evening. During the break in the storytelling, Jack had received treatment for his various aches and wounds. His chest was strapped, cuts and bruises covered in bandages. He even took a quick shower and a change of clothes. The end result was that he looked like completely a different person.

After that, the dinner as promised was served and it was truly a sumptuous affair. A feast for sore eyes, of a lifetime, whatever – it was that grand in scale. On top of that, Mylorne Akkad was a good, nay a great, storyteller. He knew just where to pause for a break, when to use the correct body language to convey the emotions, and which words to use in order to build the expectations of his audience members.

“Doctor Mercer accepted the position of the head researcher of gene manipulation for the project. The initial progress was slow, but then, more and more tombs of the past kings and heroes were unearthed, resulting in the increase of the sample pool. Eventually, the previous bottleneck encountered by the project showed the sign of finally being breached. Doctor Mercer's brilliant theories and thesis broke past the difficult challenge of successfully augmenting humans with cloned genes of Supers. Supers who were stronger than the current crop, at any rate.”

Akkad smiled ruefully as he took a slow sip of the red wine. He didn't seem to be too happy about what he was saying.

Jack, in the meantime, was slightly surprised to see him not favoring the white wine, though – after all, almost everything about this place was decorated in creepy white. The dining table, for instance – white. The plates, white. Forks and knives, also white. Good thing the served food wasn't white, otherwise Jack would have to politely decline the meal.

None of that was important to what he felt like currently. The truth was, Jack felt like hiding in a corner out of shame. After all, to think, that his mother played a crucial role in what had happened to Erik, Cleo and Lei. And even to himself. Their judgmental eyes after the revelation were especially hard to bear.

But the fact that she used her own son as a test subject soon brought plenty of pity as well. Such a thing did not remotely make him feel any better, though. If anything, it was a small miracle that he was able to put food in his mouth and sense the texture of whatever he was chewing on.

“It's still a mystery how Professor Evans was able to secure a massive funding from the Department of Defense. But I guess the power of the sarcophagus proved to be too persuasive in nature. An ancient Super that surpassed all the current living ones – being able to keep a leash on such a powerful entity must have been a rather attractive proposition for the folks in Washington.”

Jack wasn't sure what Mylorne Akkad meant by that. Why would Washington, and the politicians residing in the capital city of his country, be tempted about something like this? What about human rights and civil liberty? Or was he being a naive, sheltered kid from the middle class who knew nothing and suspected nothing?

“Now, the long story is at its climax. With Doctor Min-jung Mercer's help, the project made a breakthrough in the form of a successful batch of babies containing gene samples of Gilgamesh. But, as it often is the case, the first experimentation did not go well – resulting in all the children born to wither away and eventually die. Obviously, that was not ideal and unacceptable to those who funded the project.

“But the discoveries of various tombs of famed warriors and kings and heroes – and their still preserved genetic materials – meant the scientists could try their hands with all sorts of permutations. A batch after batch of children was born, to varying degrees of success. Some manifested powers right away, some haven't, even until now. Most perished, either due to birth defects, psychotic breakdowns or simply due to sheer bad luck.

“And then – there are the G children. You guys. Thirteen children, born with their DNAs augmented by various legendary figures' genes, and all of that glued securely by Gilgamesh's genetic structure.

“And you, Mister Mercer, the very last to awaken his set of powers. The final child of group codenamed G.”

Jack grimaced a little. The way Mylorne Akkad said it, there was no room to refute that point. It was as final as it could possibly get. Besides, he had nothing else to say anyways.

There was an uncomfortable silence that flowed within the dining toom as everyone stared at Jack. Their gazes held different emotions, but all of them made him feel really awkward.

After a short while, Lei broke her usual character of not saying a damn thing if not needed and asked. “Okay, fine. We're some test subjects by men in suits. We get that. But why? Because of some kind of ancient prophecy found in a five thousand year old tomb of a long-dead guy? Isn't that a bit nonsensical?”

Akkad smiled softly. “Indeed. But look at the bigger picture. From the data Evans compiled over the years, it's clear that a Super – gosh, I hate that word so much – possessing a set of abilities so frightening, he or she could be comparable to the devil would rise to fill that role of the Lord of Darkness.

“And today, we have more and more Supers emerging from all corners of the society. Some well meaning, some not so much. Now, in the political climate of The Cold War between the Soviets and the U.S., can you just imagine the faces of those in power hearing of a possibility to build an army of loyal, superpowered combatants to stave off the threat of global destruction. And most importantly, keep the emerging population of Supers under control as well? It is no brainer in this regard.”

“An army of Supers,” intoned Erik, sounding rather gloomy. “Like us.”

“Correct.”

At the quick confirmation, Erik sunk deep into his chair, the rest of his meal left untouched on the plate. It was the same with Lei and Jack, except Cleo was busy licking the empty plate clean. She obviously read the heavy atmosphere the last and frowned deeply, before pointing down at the plates of her companions.

“Hey, if you are not planning to finish, you don't mind, right?”

“Help yourself,” Erik spoke without mirth.

Mylorne Akkad smiled gently. “There is plenty to go around, so please, do not worry. If you need a second helping, I will organize for you. Miss Costanza.”

Cleo nodded. “Sure!! But it's such a waste to throw away all these good stuff, you know!! It's a bad habit, so I gotta do this right first.”

In silence, the meal was completed, somehow. Akkad told everyone that the accommodation for them was ready if they wanted to stay for the night. Erik and his group had no reason to refuse, but as for Jack, well, he had no choice. His position here was an ambiguous one. Neither was he here willingly, nor was he treated like a prisoner. If he wanted to leave, then nominally, he could do just that.

But Jack decided to stay. He knew there were still several important questions that needed to be asked. Plus, only Mylorne Akkad could answer them. Besides, there was this:

“Let us speak later in private, Mister Mercer. There is something else we need to discuss...”

Mylorne said in a whisper when he and Jack were out of other's earshot. That aligned pretty nicely with what Jack had in mind, so he didn't refuse the invitation.

The white robots led the kids to their respective accommodation. Akkad watched them, a soft smile of relief on his handsome face.

While he was quietly mulling the future, a small beep rose from the Bluetooth earpiece he wore. Akkad tapped it lightly and replied. “Yes?”

A robotic female voice came on. “Sir, Doctor Mercer is on line 3. She says it's urgent. Should I patch her through?”

Akkad contemplated for a moment, before shaking his head. “No. Tell her I'm busy. And track her call location. Please find out where she is at the moment.”

“Understood.”

Meanwhile, oblivious to the call from his mother, Jack scanned his guest room. He already used the facilities here when he took the shower in the adjoining bathroom. Still, it was a bit hard to get used to all that white furniture.

Sighing, he sat on the edge of the bed and shook his head. He wanted to call his parents, to tell them that he was okay, but there was no phone here and his own smartphone was thrown away. He couldn't contact the outside unless he asked Mylorne for the assistance.

I should.... call mom and dad. But.... What should I say to them?

Did my dad know about me? About the Project?

Jack lied down on the bed and shielded his eyes from the overhead lights. Try as he might, he couldn't really digest the information.

To think.... that his mother actually used him as a guinea pig in her own experiments. It was so unlike her. No, she wouldn't do something like that.

At the moment, it was only Mylorne's words to go on. No proof as of yet. Or the proof was with Erik, Lei and Cleo's existences?

Jack's thoughts were tangled up further.

The trio were brought together around ten years ago to a nameless military base and then were kept there since then. Poked around and prodded upon, experimented on and trained to become the obedient soldiers. The trio didn't dispute any of that. If anything, what Mylorne had said only reaffirmed what those three must have figured out by themselves.

There were other strange facts at play here, too. The biggest one being, why wasn't Jack taken from his home, like Erik, Lei and Cleo? And why did his mom leave the project? Jack thought that such a controversial undertaking involving lots of powerful individuals wouldn't easily let the important, vital contributors from simply walking away.

Maybe talking to Mylorne Akkad in private could shed the light on my own situation. I feel that.... I'm not supposed to be the same as Cleo and others.

Jack rubbed his chest. The pain was almost all gone. As ever, his own recuperative ability surprised him. One more sign that he was a Super, and definitely related to this Gilgamesh without a doubt.

Those memories – could they be Gilgamesh's? If so, then how the hell am I seeing them?

Jack massaged his forehead as the damnable headache continued to beat in there. He thought that it was rather unpleasant to endure. Sighing, he got up reluctantly and headed to the bathroom, which was expectedly decked out in white as well. Splashing cold water on his face did little to soften the ache, however.

Hah. Ask for an aspirin? Since it's white in color, maybe he has it in the medicine cabinet. Probably....

When Jack emerged from the white bathroom, a robot was waiting for him. It brought along the message from Mylorne Akkad.

It was time.

~

Meanwhile, Min-jung was frantically pacing back and forth in the corridor, ignoring the looks the passersby were giving her.

She tried to redial the number but it was the same. The robotic female voice repeated the same thing over and over again.

“Mister Akkad is busy at the moment. Please call again later. Thank you for your understanding.”

Min-jung felt like throwing the phone down in anger but somehow held back the urge.

The report of the three “G” coded children appearing in a suburb finally arrived at the hidden military base, sending the men here into a fit of a relative hysteria. Causing damage to civilian property was bad enough, but according to the reports, a civilian was even kidnapped as well. This was spelling a disaster. If this project and its contents were somehow leaked to the press, then it'd be very ugly for all those concerned.

General Williams was fending off phone calls from Washington, his cigar progressively getting shorter and shorter as he chomped on it aggressively.

As for Min-jung, she just came out to take a breather from all the hectic happenings, only for her phone to pick up the signal and receive the messages her daughter left behind. Dozens of them.

That's when she learned of the kidnapped civilian was none other than her own son. So, she was understandably upset.

But she wasn't an idiot. She began putting two and two together.

The fact that the subjects G-9, G-10 and G-11 could escape the heavily-fortified Fort McGinley was suspicious enough, but the fact that they could disappear off the grid alone made her think of one man and his incredible reach – her boss, Mylorne Akkad.

That man was capable of orchestrating something like this. After all, he was also instrumental in her having Jack....

She intensely regretted getting in the business relationship with him. It was too late now. She should have suspected something was afoot back then when Akkad sent her that suspicious message when Jack was still in the hospital.

If her hunch was correct, then that Gilgamesh-mad billionaire was currently with her son at this very moment. The thought alone gave her the chills. She roughly estimated that Akkad was in that white tower of his. She knew where it was. Now, only if she could get away from here....

Williams had the whole underground base under lockdown. No one was allowed to leave or enter until the trio of escapees were captured or sighted. Min-jung thought about telling the General about her suspicions but that also meant exposing her secret dealings with Akkad so that option was definitely out. She was not in a position to do something that could get her into further trouble.

It was all so infuriating. She had to get to her son before Mylorne Akkad filled Jack's head with things he shouldn't know of. The time was against her side.

A_Passing_Wanderer · Jun 14, 2017

Chapter 13

Jack followed the white robot to the elevator, passing through the stone tablets on display as well as that dimly lit corridor. He was surprised that the meeting place wasn't in the “loft” but somewhere else.

The ride to the bottom of the tower took a bit longer than he remembered. Out of curiosity, Jack asked the robot why this was so, and got the answer that they were headed to a deep underground area. He couldn't help but imagine standing before a gate of Hell for some reason, with malevolently smiling Mylorne Akkad, sprouting a pair of devilish horns, greeting him.

After a lengthy ride down, Jack was dismayed to find another ride waiting for him, this time not a vertical but horizontal in nature. A white multi-seat cart sitting on rails was the available method of movement this time, evoking a cheesy, badly built lair of some forgettable James Bond villain.

The robot urged Jack to take a seat and albeit reluctantly, he did as told. The cart began sliding forward silently at a jogging pace down the craggy tunnel. He couldn't see the end, making him wonder just how long he needed to take this ride for. But thankfully, this new method of travel didn't last too long, maybe thirty seconds or so.

That thirty seconds, however, felt like a very long time for him, sitting all alone on the seat of the white cart, facing the cool breeze brushing by his skin. This whole place was way too much like the set depicting the headquarters of the aforementioned British spy's opponents and Jack didn't know what to feel at that moment, other than that of nervousness.

His destination was not situated at the end of the railway, even. Jack could see that the cavern, or the tunnel, extended beyond to who knows where. He didn't feel like finding out just how far this tunnel went anytime soon, though.

There was a new robot waiting here to guide Jack. Following behind it, he was led into the entrance of a large, white, open dome-like hall, lined with – gasp – darkish gray tiles on the floor. The tapered ceiling reached at least ten meters up and the LED lighting coming from the numerous recesses on the white surface. The entire hall was as large as a Roman amphitheater.

"Mylorne Akkad was here, standing in the middle of this hall, his hands behind his back. He sported a gentle smile, but his eyes were razor-sharp, like that of a predator. His attire had changed to a loose fitting set of gray shirt and pants that didn't constrict any and all quick movements. And Jack couldn't help but notice that Akkad was now barefoot as well.

Now, Jack was not an idiot. He could easily see that this meeting place was not quite inducive for a deep, meaningful discussion involving dialogue. No way. This place was an arena, a battleground for warriors. The tiles on the floor attested to this notion as they were solid enough not to easily break, but at the same time pliable enough to absorb some of the impacts that no doubt would happen later on.

And then, there was the aura coming off of Mylorne Akkad to consider as well. Even though there was a gentle smile pasted on his lips, naked flames of excitement was still burning hot within those eyes of his. His well-horned frame exuded calmness like a still surface of a lake at an early dawn, unfathomably deep and mysteriously murky. The undercurrent of fighting spirit only identifiable to another warrior oozed out from every imagined pore, giving Jack goosebumps.

This was one hell of a tense atmosphere. Kinda like as if they were in the middle of a Mexican stand-off. Except that there were only two participants. Jack, through no choice of his own, had begun the process of possessing such a quality of a warrior and so, naturally, he picked up on every little detail of this tense moment. A wry, helpless smile slowly formed on his lips.

“Welcome to the underground training area, Mister Mercer. I've been waiting for you, for this moment, for a very long time.”

“Well, yeah, sorry about the delay. The elevator ride was on the slower side. But uh, what's this all about? Why are we here, Mister Akkad?”

“What else? To train, of course.” Chuckling, Mylorne threw a pair of red-and-black sparring gloves at Jack. “Put those on. You don't want to injure your hands now, do you?”

“Uh, this is?” Jack fumbled with the velcro, wondering what the hell was going on here. “I just came here to talk, Mister... Akkad. I don't need to train or anything. Also, I don't know if you've noticed or not, but I'm not 100%.”

“Oh, do not worry about your chest. You must have felt the effects of my Healing Mist by now. I've spent a billion dollars to research and develop the system. Your ribs should be more or less okay by now, especially when paired with your inborn ability to heal yourself.”

Jack unconsciously rubbed his chest, thinking, Oh, so that's why it doesn't hurt anymore....

“Well then, are you ready?” Akkad asked with a soft smile and an expression that was nigh on impossible to read.

“Uhm... ready for what, exactly?”

“A sparring match, with me.”

Jack's eyes opened up wide. “No, wait a sec here. I didn't agree to spar with you. Hell, I just wanted some answers, not trade blows.”

“Well, no one said we can't talk while sparring. Let's go, Mister Mercer. Try to keep up.”

Jack tried to protest but by then, Mylorne had lightly dashed forward. But he was fast. Really, really fast. Jack was simply not ready to receive anything.

With a loud “bam!!” Jack was flung backward and landed on the tiles with a thud. Almost all the air was knocked out of his lungs from the impact.

Jack could only catch the tail-end of what Mylorne did; a shoulder tackle, perfectly aimed at his midriffs.

“Come on, get up, Mister Mercer. You can do better than this.”

Mylorne Akkad goaded Jack and gestured with both his hands. Jack frowned and rubbed his chest again while sitting up. It didn't hurt as much but the shock of getting pushed back stayed with him.

Gritting his teeth, Jack forced his legs to move and slowly got up. Akkad nodded as if he approved of the action before taking guard.

“For now, don't try to rely on your head, Mister Mercer. Try to let your instincts take over. Trust yourself to make the correct decision.”

With that, Akkad moved again. He was quick, but slightly slower than before, allowing Jack to see him coming.

Oh, sh*t!! I gotta block that!!

Jack raised his arms to shield his torso only to feel Akkad's foot connecting with his lower hip. This time, the pain was real and it was a bitch.

Jack stumbled to his side but Akkad gave the boy no room to recover. He went down low and swept Jack's legs clean. The gravity did its thing after that.

Jack's mind spun; his ass hurt like hell, not to mention his hips. Akkad was up on his feet already.

“Come on, Mister Mercer. This is getting way too one-sided. Where's that skill which made Cleo completely incapable of touching you? What happened to that grit and desire to emerge as a winner? Show it to me!!”

Jack shook his head. “Why should I? I just wanted to ask you some questions, find the answers and maybe figure out what's going on!! I... I don't need to fight you for that, do I?”

Mylorne Akkad took a step back as he relaxed his hands on the hips. He licked his upper lip before speaking his next words slowly. “Right, if it's some 'answers' that you seek, then hit me. If you can land one hit, just one, then I shall answer one question. Land another one, then it's another answer. How does that sound?”

Jack got up and stared at Mylorne. “Fine.”

Jack was reluctant to do this, but since Mylorne was playing it the hard way....

He took a deep breath, trying to recall those moments when he knew exactly what he needed to do. When he was fighting the coyote, the armed robber, and Cleo – when his life was threatened, when he knew what he should do.

Jack took a guard, letting the sensation of strength flow into him. Almost imperceptibly, his muscles trembled, bulging – as if gathering explosive power.

Akkad smiled softly once more. He seemed genuinely happy now.

Jack was weirded out from that enigmatic smile, but he decided to ignore that for now and concentrate on landing some hits on the billionaire, maybe putting a dent in that confidence while he was at it.

For a few seconds, no one made a move, simply sizing each other up.

Normally, Jack might find such silence stifling at best, but not right now. He carefully studied the opponent before him, watching and reading. This simple action gave him an untold amount of excitement, quite unlike any other. He was thrilled, his entire being buzzing with hunger and anticipation.

And when Akkad finally moved, the anticipation shot through the roof. Jack countered instinctively, just like how he was told to do so.

Akkad's frontal kick was swift and accurate but Jack read it well enough. The speed itself was only half of what Cleo was capable of and Jack could barely react in time, swaying out of the arc and slapping the foot away, upsetting the balance of Mylorne.

Jack retaliated by jabbing forward at the still-moving body of Akkad.

Akkad's eyes glimmered in excitement as he miraculously twisted out of the way. Jack's punch was a miss, but it was only the beginning.

The two of them exchanged several punches and kicks, the tempo gradually picking up until Jack could no longer keep up.

In this brief sparring, he understood that Akkad was purposefully holding back most of his strength and speed. He was going easy on Jack for obvious reasons.

But as far as martial techniques were concerned – Jack was superior. He just knew how to read and counter in time to almost every one of Akkad's attacks. Jack's body blocked, dodged or countered accordingly like a master of combat with years of experience under his belt. Which was impossible, logically speaking.

Yet any outside observer would say Jack looked so natural. As if he had trained all his life; as if he was a god of war. The elated smile on his face perhaps attested to this notion more clearly than anything else.

But after a while, one thing became clear – Jack was not getting any closer to hitting Mylorne Akkad. If anything, the gap between the two men, brought on by the differences in speed and strength ensured that Jack was constantly on the back foot.

With a powerful shove, Jack stumbled back, losing his posture. Seizing upon this chance, Akkad came closing in for another well-placed shoulder tackle.

Right at that moment, Jack's eyes snapped open. He was actually waiting for this – the previous stumble a feint to draw in his opponent.

Akkad noticed it too late and the end result was that Jack was able to grab onto his arms, locking on tightly. Akkad spun on his heels to free himself from the position, but Jack was ready for that too and instead utilized the momentum to throw Akkad to his side.

Even though Akkad recovered before hitting the floor, the satisfaction Jack felt right there and then was incredible.

“Well? That should count, right?”

Jack asked, out of breath.

On the other hand, Akkad merely was slightly sweating. But he nodded and agreed.

“Yes, you were successful in landing a blow. Well done, Mister Mercer.”

Akkad then straightened his own ruffled apparels and stood up, gazing at Jack with an appreciative gaze.

“It's only been just over a month since your awakening, yet you have recalled most off your unarmed combat techniques. Very good.”

Jack wiped the pouring sweat off his forehead. “Recalled? What do you mean by that?”

“You must have seen them. Whether it was a dream creeping upon you in the middle of a night or a sudden nostalgic flashback to a time long past since, you must have encountered visions of the land and of events unexplainable – as if they are your living memories, as fresh as that drop of sweat on your skin.”

Jack became serious as Akkad began mentioning the visions. He told absolutely no one about them, so how could this guy know?

“Why do I have these.... dreams? Why can I fight like this? What am I? I feel like... I'm not just some augmented Super made by a government conspiracy. Am I wrong?”

“No, you are not. You are much, much more than an augmentation.” Akkad's smile deepened. “Well, you've exhausted your first question. Now, are you ready for the second round?”

“No, wait a sec!! Hey man, that's not fair!!”

Akkad ignored Jack and clapped his hands lightly. Then, a section of the floor rose up, and with it a cabinet full of weapons. Swords of various shapes and sizes, axes, varying polearms – all present and correct, except that they were made of wood. Training weapons, in other words.

“If I remember correctly, the past you had an affinity in pretty much every known type of weapons. So, pick anyone you like. As for me...”

Akkad picked out a wooden katana, a bokuto, and swung it lightly then nodded.

As for Jack, he stood there speechless. Gritting his teeth, he eventually reached out and grabbed the nearest thing, which happened to be a pair of nunchucks.

He felt like an idiot holding that unfamiliar thing, so he hastily put that down and took a serious look at what was available. He had no idea what he was looking at here, but seeing that he needed to win, or at least score a hit, he decided to go with something that had either bulk or length. He chose the latter, in the form of a wooden spear.

Akkad chuckled lightly. “Oh, that. Not very surprising. You also favored a polearm back in the day, although you never found one that suited your tastes.”

Jack swung the spear around, feeling its weight. For something made out of wood, it sure was heavy. He wasn't sure why, but the balance of the weapon appealed to him. And he had no idea what that even meant. It was all just.... oddly familiar to him without knowing why. Since he was this far down the rabbit hole, he figured that might as well, see to the very end.

Jack took a sideways stance, keeping the front of the spear low but putting strength in his front leg, ready to explode forward at a moment's notice.

Mylorne Akkad nodded, before gripping the bokuto in an orthodox, textbook Chudan stance used in Kendo. The weapon was held forward, its tip unswerving, steady.

With a short but loud yell, Akkad shot out like a bullet. In a flash, he was in front of Jack.

Jack released the accumulated strength on the leg, stepping to the side and swinging the spear in a rising arc. The two weapons collided with a whack, and Jack felt his palms go numb from the pain. He gritted his teeth and forcibly shoved forward, pushing Akkad off his feet.

Not stopping there, Jack launched a series of precisely controlled stabbing blows, aimed at Akkad's torso. The spear moved in a blur, leaving behind afterimages.

Akkad loudly yelled again and his bokuto exploded into action, parrying the stabbing spear tip. His defenses were too solid and Jack couldn't pry open a gap.

Jack believed that he had a superiority here, because of the length advantage. Utilizing that, Jack lunged forward, trying to draw out Akkad and make him commit in a frontal counter. Indeed, Akkad came for that very attack.

Jack was ready to turn this moment for his own advantage, only to watch as the bokuto magically bend in an impossible way around his spear to strike his forearm. The stinging blow meant he inadvertently let go of his grip, allowing Akkad to sneak in yet another hit to his shoulder.

It was too fast to block. Not enough time to react at all.

Jack was dazed as he rubbed his aching limb, unable to understand how the hell Akkad did what he did with that wooden sword. He frowned, searching in the visions for an answer. None came.

“Wondering how I did that?” Akkad helpfully spoke as he took another stance, this time that of Jodan, his bokuto raised above his head.

“It's simple – your eyes are fooled by my speed!!”

Akkad again exploded with that unparalleled speed. The wooden katana chopped down, hard. Once more, the blade seemed to bend in the air as if it was a mere illusion.

Jack hastily raised his spear in order to parry it but the blow he received was far too heavy for that. Kneeling on one knee, Jack tried to offset the blow by tilting the spear to one side but Akkad didn't give him time for that and instead sent him flying with a kick to his sternum.

All the air was knocked out his lungs. Jack tumbled backward rather ungracefully before slamming against the wall.

He breathed heavily, eyes losing focus before snapping back with the painful reminder that he lost that exchange. Even though there was venom in that kick, Jack could still tell that Akkad held back just enough so no one would be injured.

A flash of embarrassment swept by Jack's face. He felt ashamed at how weak he was, not even able to see the incoming attacks clearly. It was pathetic, really. His old self wouldn't have allowed such weakness at all.

Wait, what? My old self? What... Why am I thinking like this?!

“You have begun to reacquire your old skills but your body is simply not strong enough to support them. This is a tragedy of the highest caliber. Only if I had access to you right after the incident, then you wouldn't be like this....”

Akkad sounded genuinely upset as he spoke, at least to Jack's point of view. But Jack was able to understand one thing from that.

“You... can make me stronger? How?”

Akkad's face became somber.

“You have seen them, haven't you? The Red Souls?”

The mere mentioning of those screaming souls made Jack sit up and pay attention. Mylorne Akkad even knew about them. How could he? The only other person who knew it was Taylor, and there was no way she'd tell anyone, never mind a tech billionaire.

He began panting heavily. “You... know about them?! The Red Souls, I mean. But how?”

Akkad sighed softly. With a soulful, longing look on his face, he murmured. “You know this already, don't you? You know who I am. I can see in your eyes that you have recognized me, my friend....”

A like a thunderclap wringing out in the calm sky, Jack's mind shook powerfully.

“No, but.... That's not possible, right? I mean, that.... If true, then you'd be at least five thousand years old!!”

Jack gripped the spear tight until the wood creaked under the immense pressure, almost breaking apart. But the truth in front of him didn't change at all. The almost-pleading face of the man standing before him.... began to superimpose with the one from his visions, of the man in the past.

A man wearing a rough, simple garments, his face full of beard and a dignified aura oozing out; he was the man named Utnapishtim the Immortal, also known as The Preserver of Life.

~

Meanwhile, as the night was deepening in the city of New York....

In Times Square, one of the huge electronic billboards was showing a news broadcast. The contents spoken by the pretty female anchor couldn't be heard as the sound was muted and the dynamic cacophony of the city's noises meant that it didn't matter anyways.

Nico Gavalas gazed at the billboard, slightly dazed. He could see the anchor's lips move in a hypnotic fashion, drawing him in, making sure he could not tear his eyes away. The only respite arriving as the scene changed to another, and the figure of the female anchor no longer on screen.

Yet, Gavalas stood there, not caring whether the crowd walking by ran into him or not. His eyes were firmly affixed at the ticker tape at the bottom of the screen. The results of the day's stock market flashed by as well as snippets of the day's headlines.

One of the lines caught his attention more than the others.

“The suspect of JFK massacre still at large: NYPD. If you have any leads, call....”

“They are still hung up over that?” Nico Gavalas chuckled to himself. “Oh well, not my problem anymore!!”

He hoisted the gym bag closer to his shoulder and let his eyes wander around, searching. There sure was a lot of people here and if one didn't have a decent sense of direction, then the poor sucker might get lost in the writhing maze of neon, flesh, and concrete.

He fished out a worn-out compass from his pocket and gazed into the cracked glass with intensity. The corners of his eyes became bloodshot as he stared deeper and deeper into it – until, the lone needle inside began to vibrate, slowly tilting to point at a direction.

Nico wiped the sweat off his forehead wearily and with a deep inhale, he set off towards the way pointed out by the seemingly broken compass.

Soon, his feet led him past the glitzy avenues and beyond, behind some forgotten alleyway filled with vomit stains and trash dancing in the sporadic eruption of winds from the passing underground subway trains, the air expelling through the grilles on the floor. Unfortunately for Nico, there was no Marilyn Monroe-like figure standing on top on one such grille. He maintained a wry chuckle as he thought about that little missed opportunity. Not that it qualified as one, anyways.

He continued to check the orientation of the needle every time he crossed a road, adjusting his heading cautiously as if he didn't want to end up in a wrong place.

Eventually, he was standing in front of a run-down apartment block; noises of human occupation coming off of it in the form of garbled Hip Hop, headache-inducing bass notes, and drunken shouts. Occasionally, even a distant gunshot or two, accompanied by the equally distant wail of a police siren that was just as surreal as the calling of a real siren inside a drug-fuelled dream of a junkie.

It was a world far removed from the bright lights of Times Square without a doubt.

The needle pointed towards one of the apartments. Nico raised his head and scanned it briefly. The curtains were drawn over all the windows, and none of them were open. The lights were off; no signs of any human beings inside at all.

In front, a small gathering of African American youths crowding over a seventies American muscle car, loud music reverberating from it. One of them noticed Nico staring at the building, and sauntered over after giving a sideways glance towards his buddies. He brought his large, muscled frame in front of Nico and blocked his view to the building, and with a menacing snarl, he spat out threateningly.

“Yo, bro, you lost?”

Nico broke the studying gaze off the windows of the apartment and turned his attention back to the youth. After checking out the man, he smiled and shook his head.

“Oh, no. I'm not lost. Thank you for asking.”

The African youth was taken aback at such a nonchalant response, momentarily not sure of how to retort.

Ignoring the man, Nico stepped past him and approached the entrance in an unhurried, leisurely manner. The youth was startled but recovered quickly enough and he blocked Nico's path again.

“Yo, you in the wrong neighborhood, you dig? Or you want something? You looking to score?”

Nico tilted his head, wondering what this guy was talking about.

“No, it's alright. I'm not looking to score, as you say. But actually, I was searching for something.”

The youth grabbed Nico's shoulder and glared aggressively. “Like what, white boy? You want dope? Or candy? Uncle Max's got some, for the right price. You feel me?”

Nico was definitely not feeling this guy. Shaking his head, Nico frowned. “No, what I want is none of those. But it's inside this building.”

Hearing this, the face of the African man fell slightly. The tone of his voice was lowered by a few octaves as he leaned in closer.

“You better not cause any trouble for Uncle Max, or there be consequences, feel me? This building is his territory, you dig? You make life difficult for Uncle Max, and he makes your life f**king hell, ain't that right?”

He even flashed his hidden .45 Colt pistol, tucked under his leather belt. Now normally, this would scare the bejesus out of regular folks, but Nico Gavalas was no ordinary man. He was the Chosen. A little display like this could not faze him in the slightest.

Chuckling, Nico patted the African man on his shoulder. “Sure thing. No trouble from me. I'll be real quick, in and out. No trouble at all.”

Nico walked past the man and entered, not paying any attention to the jeers coming from the gathering of youths behind him. He instead pulled out the compass to confirm his heading and was happy to find it gently humming within his palm. This was the sign that his objective was nearby. Very close, in fact.

Nico quickly jogged up the stairs and arrived at the floor with the apartment in question. No one came out of their homes to see him; the hallway was eerily quiet, although the distorted bass still could be heard through the walls. It was a weird combination but Nico didn't really mind.

He put the gym bag down and opened it, revealing the golden skull. Almost immediately, the golden light inundated the hallway, bathing it with its strange, upsetting glow. Then, it converged on Nico, his body turning almost transparent.

When he moved again, not a single sound could be heard; his footsteps, the rustle of fabric, the floorboards creaking – none of that made a sound, not even a hush. The strange light made him.... as silent as the approaching Grim Reaper.

He approached the apartment door and reached out for it, only to see that it was slightly open. Immediately he tensed. Nico carefully entered the apartment, not wanting to disrupt anything nor touch stuff and leave behind a trail.

As Nico figured out, it was dark inside. No light was switched on. But there was enough illumination from the street, allowing him to see the layout of the living room easily. No one was here.

Carefully, he placed the bag down by the kitchen entrance as that was where his object waited for him.

There were two men, one African American and large. As for the other guy....

The African man was bound to a chair, blood covering him. Some were new, some dried up. Cuts and bruises were evident, as well as makeshift restraints made up of belts and duck tapes.

The second man was clad in a cloak of darkness. He wore a hood, his face hidden behind a black mask. In his hand, a dagger with an elaborate shape and a red hilt. It glistened with the blood of its victim.

The masked man was growling menacingly.

“Where is the girl? Answer me!!”

The bleeding, bound man groaned. “F**k you, asshole. You think you're a hot stuff? You f**king Super.... You ain't nothing, asshole.... You will never find her.... And even if you do find her, she'll be dead by then.”

The bound man cackled between the mouthful of blood and the pain wrecking him. Even Nico could accurately tell this guy was not remotely close to talking his heart out. Perhaps understanding this point too well, the masked man grimaced and began to cut the African man with the dagger while holding the victim's mouth shut. The anger and desperation were palpable in the vigilante's eyes.

“Where is she?!”

After several tens of seconds of continuous torture, the masked man asked again, his voice much more menacing than before.

But by then, the African man had noticed Nico standing by the kitchen's entrance, observing what was going on. Nico was focused on the masked man's dagger, watching it move in the air with near religious fervor.

The vigilante also registered the new player on the scene, belatedly stepping back and brandishing the dagger.

“Who the hell are you?”

The vigilante became very vigilant, as his moniker might suggest. The dagger reflected the street lights, the dazzling quality not diminished one bit with all that blood on the blade.

Nico Gavalas shrugged his shoulders. “Don't mind me. Please, finish what you're doing first, then we'll talk afterward.”

The vigilante narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “And if I'm not in the mood to talk?”

Nico pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Well, it doesn't matter. I just want that dagger back. That's all.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the vigilante pounced. The dagger made a straight beeline at Nico's throat, the move brimming with the naked killing intent.

Nico's face color changed; he quickly stepped back and tilted his body out of the cramped kitchen entrance. The dagger narrowly missed the flesh but the vigilante quickly withdrew and slashed out again, necessitating Nico to take more steps to dodge the incoming attacks.

“You should stop this, mister. You're troubling Uncle Max,” quipped Nico as he expertly escaped the deadly slashes of the masked vigilante.

When the two arrived at the living room, Nico could open up a bit of distance between the two.

“Hey, no need for violence, mister. Just give me that dagger, and you go back to.... finding that girl. No trouble for both of us, right?”

The vigilante snorted coldly.

“You want this dagger? Not sure how you found out about its origins, but no way in hell you're taking it from me!!”

Nico made a complicated face.

“Oh, come on, don't be like that, now. We can negotiate. I'll give you something just as good. I can grant you enormous power so you can, I don't know, rescue that girl. It's a good deal, don't you think?”

“Shut up!!”

The vigilante athletically jumped over the coffee table getting in the way and performed an aerial kick. But it was all for nothing as Nico simply dodged to his side before landing a solid blow to the airborne vigilante's abdomen with his palm.

The vigilante spat out a mouthful of blood as he crashed against the furniture, smashing them up. At the same time, he lost his grip on the dagger, dropping it on the floor.

“There you go, that wasn't so hard, was it?”

Chuckling in a content manner, Nico glanced over at the coughing vigilante before bending down to pick up the dagger.

“Now, what should I do with you....”

Nico straightened his back and gazed at the vigilante, his fingers tightly coiling around the gleaming weapon. The mask was in the way, but Nico was pretty sure of the vigilante having a very ugly expression right now. Imagining that, he felt quite proud of his own achievements – it only had been a month but boy, his strength had grown in leaps and bounds, totally unexplainable by logic and science. He was even more powerful than a Super, for crying out loud!!

Because of his conceited state, he didn't pick up on the cue; the vigilante suddenly moved. He deftly jumped out of the nearest window, smashing past the glass and the mosquito net.

Nico hurriedly went over and looked outside, only to witness the vigilante jumping across to the neighboring rooftop and dashing away.

“Oh. Just as well,” said Nico as he shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't planning to give chase in the first place; after all, if everything went according to plan, then not much of this city would be left behind anyways.

Shrugging his shoulders, Nico went back to the kitchen entrance where he had lowered the gym bag. He glanced at the bound man before placing the dagger inside the bag.

“Well, sorry for disturbing you. And... oh!! Right, I'm also sorry for the furniture. I couldn't help it. Now then, good evening.”

Smiling at the flabbergasted man, Nico left the apartment in a good mood. And why shouldn't he be? He did get what he came here for, after all.

Here's the new chapter. Enjoy, and comment if there's something you want to share in regards to my writing. Thanks.

Edit (14th June):

Chapter 13: The Weapons

Jack followed the white robot to the elevator, passing through the stone tablets on display as well as that dimly lit corridor. He had to do that cold air/hot air thing before stepping out, though, which kind of took time.

Inwardly, he was somewhat surprised to learn that the meeting place wasn't in the “loft” as well.

Just what is Mylorne Akkad planning, I wonder?

Jack asked the robot where Akkad was, but it didn't answer, and instead continued to lead him forward. Looked like he wouldn't receive any satisfying reply from the white tin can, so Jack shrugged his shoulders and carried on.

The ride to the bottom of the tower took a bit longer than he remembered. Out of curiosity, Jack asked the robot why this was so, and surprisingly, got the answer that they were headed to a deep underground area. Again, he was reminded of the imagery of the Hell's Gate, with malevolently smiling Mylorne Akkad, sprouting a pair of devilish horns, greeting him.

After a lengthy ride down, Jack was dismayed to find yet another ride waiting for him, this time not a vertical but horizontal in nature. A white multi-seat cart sitting on rails was the method of travel this time, evoking the atmosphere of a cheesy, badly built lair belonging to some forgettable James Bond villain.

The robot urged Jack to take a seat and albeit reluctantly, he did as told. The cart began sliding forward silently at a jogging pace down the craggy tunnel. He couldn't see the end, making him wonder just how long he needed to take this ride for. This new method of travel didn't last too long, maybe thirty seconds or so.

That thirty seconds, however, felt like a very long time for him, sitting all alone on the seat of the white cart, facing the cool breeze brushing by his skin. This whole place was way too much like the set depicting the headquarters of the aforementioned British spy's opponents and Jack didn't know what to feel at that moment, although he was definitely quite nervous of what's to come.

His destination was not situated at the end of the railway, even. Jack could see that the cavern, or the tunnel, extended beyond to who knows where. But he didn't feel like finding out just how far this tunnel went anytime soon. Not important towards achieving his goals, it was.

There was a new robot waiting here to guide Jack. It led him into the entrance of a large, white, open dome-like hall, lined with – gasp – darkish gray tiles on the floor. The tapered ceiling reached at least five meters up and the LED lighting coming from the numerous recesses on the white surface. Walls were covered in foam-like substance as well, most likely designed to absorb and disperse the harsh impact from.... something.

The entire hall's overall dimension was as large as that of a Roman amphitheater.

Mylorne Akkad was here, standing in the middle of this hall, his hands behind his back. He sported a gentle smile, but his eyes were razor-sharp, like that of a predator. His attire had changed to a loose fitting set of gray shirt and pants that didn't constrict any and all quick movements. And Jack couldn't help but notice that Akkad was now barefoot as well, strapped tightly in black tapes.

Now, Jack was not an idiot. He could easily see that this meeting place was not quite inducive towards a deep, meaningful discussion involving sincere dialogue straight from their hearts. No way in hell.

This place was an arena, a battleground for warriors. The tiles on the floor attested to this notion as they were solid enough not to easily break, but at the same time pliable enough to absorb some of the impacts that no doubt would happen later on.

And then, there was the aura coming off of Mylorne Akkad to consider as well. Even though there was a gentle smile pasted on his lips, naked flames of excitement burned hot within his eyes. His well-horned frame exuded calmness like a still surface of a lake at an early dawn, unfathomably deep and mysteriously murky. The undercurrent of fighting spirit only recognizable to another warrior oozed out from every imagined pore, giving Jack the case of unrestrained goosebumps.

This was one hell of a tense atmosphere. Kinda like as if they were in the middle of a Mexican stand-off, except that there were only two participants.

Jack, through no choice of his own, had begun the process of possessing the quality of a warrior and so, naturally, he was picking up every little detail of this tense moment. A wry, helpless smile slowly formed on his lips.

“Welcome to the underground training area, Mister Mercer. I've been waiting for you, for this moment, for a very long time.”

“Well, yeah, sorry about the delay. The elevator ride was on the slower side. But uh, what's this all about? Why are we here, Mister Akkad?”

“What else? To train, of course.” Chuckling, Mylorne threw a pair of red-and-black sparring gloves and flat heeled shoes at Jack. “Put those on. You don't want to injure your hands and feet now, do you?”

“Uh, these are?” Jack fumbled with the gloves' velcro, wondering what the hell was going on here. “I just came here to talk, Mister... Akkad. I don't need to train or anything. Also, I don't know if you've noticed or not, but I'm not 100%.”

“Oh, do not worry about your injuries. You must have felt the effects of my Healing Mist by now. I've spent a billion dollars to research and develop the system. More importantly, your ribs should be more or less okay by now, especially when paired with your inborn ability to heal yourself.”

Jack unconsciously rubbed his chest, thinking, Oh, so that's why it doesn't hurt anymore....

“Well then, are you ready?” Akkad asked with a soft smile and an expression that was nigh on impossible to read. Jack grimaced weakly as he finished putting on the gloves and shoes.

“Uhm... may I ask, what should I be ready for, exactly?”

“A sparring match. With me.”

Jack's eyes opened up wide. “No, wait a sec here. I didn't agree to spar with you. Hell, I just wanted some answers, not trade blows.”

“Well, no one said we can't talk while we spar. Let's go, Mister Mercer. Try to keep up.”

Jack tried to protest but by then, without warning Mylorne lightly dashed forward. And he was fast. Really, really fast. Jack was simply not ready to receive anything.

With a loud “bam!!” Jack was flung backward and landed on the tiles with a thud. Almost all the air was knocked out of his lungs from the impact.

Jack could only catch the tail-end of what Mylorne did; a shoulder tackle, perfectly aimed at the unprotected midriffs.

“Come on, get up, Mister Mercer. You can do better than this.”

Mylorne Akkad goaded Jack, gesturing with both his hands. Jack frowned and rubbed his belly again while sitting up. It didn't hurt as much but the shock of getting pushed back stayed with him. The bandages strapped to his chest constricted his breathing somewhat.

Gritting his teeth, Jack forced his legs to move and slowly got up. Akkad nodded as if he approved of the action, before taking guard.

“For now, don't try to rely too much on your senses only, Mister Mercer. Let your instincts take over. Trust it to make the correct decision.”

With that small advice, Akkad moved again. He was quick, but slightly slower than before, allowing Jack to see him coming.

Oh, sh*t!! I gotta block that!!

Jack raised his arms to shield his torso only to feel Akkad's foot connecting with his lower hip. This time, the sharp pain was as real as it got and it hurt like hell.

Jack stumbled to his side off balance. Akkad gave him no room to recover and kept on attacking by going down low and sweeping Jack's legs clean. The gravity did its thing after that and he fell on his butt hard.

Jack's mind spun; his ass screamed in pain. His lower torso wasn't responding to his commands at all, completely numb from the shock.

Akkad, on the other hand, was up on his feet already, waiting.

“Come on, Mister Mercer. This is getting way too one-sided. Where's that skill which made Miss Cleo Costanza completely incapable of touching you? What happened to that grit and desire to emerge as a winner? Show it to me!!”

Jack shook his head. “Why should I? I just wanted to ask you some questions, find the answers and maybe figure out what's going on with me!! I... I don't need to fight you for that, do I?”

Mylorne Akkad took a step back as he relaxed his hands on the hips. He licked his upper lip before speaking his next words slowly. “Right, if it's some 'answers' that you seek, then hit me. If you can land one hit, just one, then I shall answer one question. Land another one, then it's another answer. How does that sound?”

Jack slowly got up and fiercely stared at Mylorne. “Fine.”

In truth, he was reluctant to do this, but since Mylorne was playing it the hard way....

Jack took a deep breath, trying to recall those moments when he could “see” what the opponents would do. Like back then, when he was fighting the coyote, or the armed robber or even Cleo. Those moments, when his life was threatened, when he just knew what he should do to survive.

Jack raised his dukes. He let the sensation of strength flow into him. Almost imperceptibly, his muscles trembled, bulging – as if gathering explosive power.

Akkad smiled softly once more. He seemed genuinely happy now.

Jack was weirded out from that enigmatic smile, but he decided to ignore that for now and concentrate on landing some hits on the billionaire, maybe put a dent in that confidence while he was at it.

For a few seconds, no one made a move, simply sizing each other up.

Normally, Jack might find such silence stifling, but not right now. He carefully studied the opponent before him, watching and reading. Before he had time to realize it, a simple action such as this gave him an untold amount of excitement. It was literally quite unlike any other. He was thrilled to his core, his entire being buzzing with anticipation.

And when Akkad finally moved, the anticipation shot through the roof. Jack countered instinctively, just like how he was told to do so.

Akkad's frontal kick was swift and accurate but Jack read it well enough. The speed itself was only half of what Cleo was capable of and Jack could barely react in time, swaying out of the arc and slapping the foot away, upsetting the balance of Mylorne.

Jack retaliated by jabbing forward at the still-moving body of Akkad.

Akkad's eyes glimmered in excitement as he miraculously twisted out of the way. Jack's punch was a miss, but it was only the beginning.

The two of them exchanged several blows, the tempo gradually picking up until Jack could no longer keep up.

In this brief sparring, he understood that Akkad was purposefully holding back most of his strength and speed. He was going easy on Jack for obvious reasons.

And when it came to the proficiency at martial art techniques, it seemed like they were even, at least initially. Jack knew how to read and counter in time to almost every one of Akkad's attacks. But as they continued, even here he found himself on the back foot.

Even then, Jack managed to block, dodge or counter accordingly like a master of combat with years of experience under his belt. Which was impossible, logically speaking. Any outside observer would say Jack looked so natural, as if he had trained all his life; as if he was a god of war.

The elated, primal smile on his face attested to this notion more clearly than anything else, although he was gradually being pushed back, the ferocious, almost feral, smile remained.

After a while, it became clear that, at this rate, Jack was not going to hit Mylorne Akkad. If anything, the gap between the two men widened continuously.

With a powerful shove, Jack stumbled back, losing his posture. Seizing upon this chance, Akkad came closing in for another well-placed shoulder tackle.

Right at that moment, Jack's eyes snapped open. He was actually waiting for this, the previous stumble a feint to draw in his opponent.

Akkad noticed it too late and the end result was that Jack was able to grab onto his arms, locking on tightly. Akkad spun on his heels to free himself from the position, but Jack was ready for that too and instead utilized the momentum to throw Akkad to his side.

Although Mylorne Akkad recovered just before hitting the floor, the satisfaction Jack felt right there and then was incredibly wonderful.

“Well? That should count, right?”

Jack asked, out of breath.

On the other hand, Akkad was slightly sweating, not a hair out of place. But he nodded and agreed.

“Yes, you were successful in landing a blow. Well done, Mister Mercer.” Akkad then straightened his posture and turned his appreciative gaze towards Jack. “It's only been just over a month since your awakening, yet you have recalled so much of your unarmed combat techniques. Well done, Mister Mercer. Well done, indeed.”

Jack wiped the pouring sweat off his forehead. “Recalled? What do you mean by that?”

“You must have seen them. Whether it was a dream creeping upon you in the middle of a night or a sudden nostalgic flashback to a time long past since, you must have encountered visions of the land and of events unexplainable – as if they are your living memories, as fresh as that drop of sweat on your skin.”

Jack became serious as Akkad began mentioning the visions. He told absolutely no one about them, so how could this guy know?

“Why do I have these.... dreams? Why can I fight like this? What am I? I feel like... I'm not just some augmented Super made by a government conspiracy. Am I wrong?”

“No, you are not. You are much, much more than an augmentation.” Akkad's smile deepened. “Well, you've exhausted your first question. Now, are you ready for the second round?”

“No, wait a sec!! Hey man, that's not fair!!”

Akkad ignored Jack and clapped his hands lightly. Then, a section of the floor rose up, and with it a cabinet full of weapons. Swords of various shapes and sizes, axes, varying polearms – all present and correct, except that they were made out of wood. Training weapons, in other words.

“If I remember correctly, the past you had an affinity in pretty much every known type of weapons. So, pick anyone you like. As for me...”

Akkad picked out a wooden katana, a bokuto, and swung it lightly then nodded.

As for Jack, he stood there speechless. Gritting his teeth in anger, he reached out and grabbed the very first thing his hand landed on, which happened to be a pair of nunchucks.

He felt like an idiot holding that unfamiliar thing, so he hastily put that down and took a serious look at what was available. He had no idea which weapon to use, but seeing that he needed to win, or at least score a hit, he decided to go with something that had either bulk or length. He chose the latter, in the form of a wooden spear.

Akkad chuckled lightly. “Oh, that. Not very surprising. You also favored polearms back in the day, although you never found one that suited your tastes.”

Jack swung the spear around, feeling its weight. For something made out of wood, it sure was heavy. He wasn't sure why, but the balance of the weapon appealed to him. And he had no idea what that even meant. It was all just.... oddly familiar to him without knowing why. Since he was this far down the rabbit hole, he steeled his heart, deciding to see to the very end.

Jack took a sideways stance, keeping the front of the spear low but putting strength in his front leg, ready to explode forward at a moment's notice.

Mylorne Akkad nodded, before gripping the bokuto in an orthodox, textbook Chudan stance used in Kendo. The weapon was held forward, its tip unswerving, steady.

With a short but loud yell, Akkad shot out like a bullet. In a flash, he was in front of Jack.

Jack released the accumulated strength on the leg, stepping to the side and swinging the spear in a rising arc. The two weapons collided with a whack, and Jack felt his palms go numb from the pain. He gritted his teeth and forcibly shoved forward, pushing Akkad off his feet.

Not stopping there, Jack launched a series of precisely controlled stabbing blows, aimed at Akkad's torso. The spear moved in a blur, leaving behind afterimages.

Akkad loudly yelled again and his bokuto exploded into action, parrying the stabbing spear tip. His defenses were too solid and Jack couldn't pry open a gap.

Jack believed that he had a superiority because of the advantage in length. Utilizing that, Jack lunged forward, trying to draw out Akkad and make him commit into a frontal counter. Indeed, Akkad came for that very attack.

Jack was ready to turn this moment for his own advantage, only to watch as the bokuto magically bend in an impossible way around his spear to strike his forearm. The stinging blow meant he inadvertently let go of his grip, allowing Akkad to sneak in yet another hit to his shoulder. With a shocked groan, Jack retreated while massaging his shoulders.

It was too fast to block. Not enough time to react at all.

Jack was dazed as he rubbed his aching limb, unable to understand how the hell Akkad did what he did with that wooden sword. He frowned, searching through the memories for an answer. None came.

“Wondering how I did that?” Akkad helpfully spoke as he took another stance, this time that of Jodan, his bokuto raised above his head.

“It's simple – your eyes are fooled by my speed!!”

Akkad again exploded with that unparalleled speed. The wooden katana chopped down, hard. Once more, the blade seemed to bend in the air as if it was a mere illusion.

Jack hastily raised his spear in order to parry it but the blow he received was much heavier than he thought. Kneeling on one knee, Jack tried to offset the impact of the blow by tilting the spear to one side but Akkad didn't give him time for that and instead sent him flying with a kick to his sternum.

All the air was knocked out his lungs. Jack tumbled backward rather ungracefully before slamming against the wall.

He breathed heavily, eyes briefly losing focus before snapping back thanks to his screaming chest, a painful reminder that he lost that exchange. There was some venom in that kick, but Jack could still tell that Akkad held back just enough so he would get injured. Not seriously, anyways.

A flash of embarrassment swept by Jack's face. He felt ashamed at how weak he was currently, not even able to see the incoming attacks clearly. It was pathetic, really. His old self wouldn't have allowed such weakness at all.

Wait, what? My old self? What... Why am I thinking like this?!

“You have begun to reacquire your old skills but your body is simply not strong enough to support them. This is a tragedy of the highest caliber. Only if I had access to you right after the incident, then you wouldn't be like this....”

Akkad sounded genuinely upset as he spoke, at least to Jack's point of view. But Jack was able to understand one thing from that.

“You... can make me stronger? How?”

Akkad's face became somber.

“You have seen them, haven't you? The Red Souls?”

The mere mentioning of those screaming souls made Jack sit up and pay attention. To his surprise, Mylorne Akkad knew. But how could he? The only other person who knew about them was Taylor, and there was no way she'd tell anyone, never mind to a tech billionaire.

He began panting heavily. “You... know about them?! The Red Souls, I mean. But how?”

Akkad sighed softly. With a soulful, longing look on his face, he murmured. “You know this already, don't you? You know who I am. I can see in your eyes that you have recognized me earlier. My.... old friend. Remember me, my name. Our friendship....”

Like a thunderclap shattering the calm sky, Jack's mind was powerfully shaken. He tottered as if he lost all strength in his legs, before stabilizing his stance.

“No, but.... That's not possible, right? I mean, that.... If true, then you'd be at least five thousand years old!!”

Jack gripped the spear tight until the wood creaked under the immense pressure, almost breaking apart. But the truth in front of him didn't change at all. The almost-pleading face of the man standing before him.... began to superimpose with the one from his visions, of the man in the past.

The man Jack has seen in his dreams, within the recalled memories of.... the God-King.

A man wearing a rough, simple garments, his face full of beard and a dignified aura oozing out; he was the man named Utnapishtim the Immortal, also known as The Preserver of Life.

~

Meanwhile, as the evening was descending in the city of New York....

In Times Square, one of the huge electronic billboards was showing a news broadcast. The contents spoken by the sexy blonde anchor couldn't be heard as the sound was muted. The dynamic cacophony of the city's noises meant that it didn't matter anyways.

Nico Gavalas gazed at the billboard, slightly dazed. He could see the anchor's lips move in a hypnotic fashion, somehow drawing him in, making sure he could not tear his eyes away. The only respite arriving as the scene changed to another, and the figure of the female anchor no longer on screen.

Yet, Gavalas stood there, not caring whether the crowd walking by ran into him or not. His eyes were now firmly affixed at the ticker tape at the bottom of the screen. The results of the day's stock market flashed by, as well as snippets of the day's headlines.

One of them caught his attention more than the others.

“The suspect of JFK massacre still at large: NYPD. If you have any leads, call....”

“They are still hung up over that?” Nico Gavalas chuckled to himself. “Oh well, not my problem anymore!!”

He hoisted the gym bag closer to his shoulder and let his eyes wander around, searching, taking in the sights and the smells of this amazing place. There sure was a lot of people here and if one didn't have a decent sense of direction, then the poor sucker might get lost in the writhing maze of neon, flesh, concrete and metal.

He fished out a worn-out compass from his pocket and gazed into the cracked glass with intensity. The corners of his eyes became bloodshot as he stared deeper and deeper into it – until, the lone needle inside began to vibrate, slowly tilting to point in the Northerly direction.

Nico wiped the sweat off his forehead wearily and with a deep inhale, he set off towards the way pointed out by the seemingly broken compass.

Soon after, his feet led him far past the glitzy avenues and beyond, behind some forgotten alleyway filled with vomit stains and trash dancing in the sporadic eruption of winds from the passing underground subway trains, the air expelling through the grilles placed sporadically on the sidewalk.

Unfortunately for Nico, there was no Marilyn Monroe-like figure standing on top on one such grille. He maintained a wry chuckle as he thought about that little missed opportunity. Not that it qualified as one, anyways.

He continued to check the orientation of the needle every time he crossed a road, adjusting his heading cautiously as if he didn't want to end up in a wrong place.

Eventually, he was standing in front of a run-down apartment block; noises of human occupation coming off of it in the form of garbled Hip Hop featuring headache-inducing bass notes, drunken shouts, and occasionally, even a distant gunshot or two accompanied by the equally distant wail of a police siren that seemed just as surreal as the calling of a real siren inside a drug-fuelled dream of a junkie.

It was a world far removed from the bright lights of Times Square without a doubt.

The needle pointed towards one of the apartments. Nico raised his head and scanned it briefly. The curtains were drawn over all of the windows and none of them were open. The lights were off in most of the apartments as well, with no signs of any human beings inside at all. It was the same with the particular apartment the compass's needle pointed at.

In front, a small gathering of African American youths crowding over a seventies American muscle car, loud music reverberating from it. One of them noticed Nico staring at the building, and sauntered over after giving a sideways glance towards his buddies. He brought his large, muscled frame in front of Nico and blocked his view to the building, and with a menacing snarl, he threateningly spat out.

“Yo, homie, you lost?”

The words were delivered with power and disdain, and would've scared the lesser men quite easily, but not Nico.

All the threatening words achieved was breaking the studious gaze of Nico off the apartment's windows. He turned his attention to the youth, his eyes showing confusion. After checking out the man, Nico smiled and shook his head.

“Oh, no. I'm not lost. Thank you for asking.”

The African youth was taken aback at such a nonchalant response, momentarily not sure of how to retort.

Ignoring the man, Nico stepped past him and approached the entrance in an unhurried, leisurely manner. The youth was startled but recovered quickly enough and he blocked Nico's path again.

“Yo, you in the wrong neighborhood, you dig? Or you want something? You looking to score?”

Nico tilted his head, wondering what this guy was talking about.

“No, it's alright. I'm not looking to score, as you say. But actually, I am searching for something.”

The youth grabbed Nico's shoulder and glared aggressively. “Like what, white boy? You want dope? Or candy? Uncle Max's got some, for the right price. You feel me?”

Nico was definitely not feeling this guy. Shaking his head, Nico frowned. “No, what I want is none of those. But it's inside this building.”

Hearing this, the face of the African man fell slightly. The tone of his voice was lowered by a few octaves as he leaned in closer.

“You better not cause any trouble for Uncle Max, or there be consequences, feel me? This building is his territory, you dig? You make life difficult for Uncle Max, and he makes your life f**king hell, ain't that right?”

He even flashed his hidden .45 Colt pistol, tucked under his black leather pants' drooping waistline. His underpants were showing, too. Now normally, this would scare the bejesus out of regular folks, but not Nico Gavalas. Oh no.

Because he was the Chosen. The destiny had chosen him, and bestowed an incredible task upon his shoulders. A cute little display like this could not faze him in the slightest.

Chuckling, Nico patted the African man on his shoulder. “Sure thing. No trouble from me. I'll be real quick, in and out. No trouble at all.”

Nico walked past the man and entered the front foyer of the building, the jeers coming from the gathering of youths behind him entering through one ear and leaving just as swiftly via the other one. Nico was oblivious to unimportant matters, after all. He instead pulled out the compass to confirm his heading and was happy to find it gently humming within his palm. This was the sign that his objective was nearby. Very close, in fact.

Nico quickly jogged up the stairs and arrived at the floor with the apartment in question. No one came out of their homes to check out the new arrival in the building. The hallway was eerily subdued, although the distorted bass and muffled voices could be heard through the walls. It was a weird combination to him but Nico didn't really mind, just shrugging his shoulders and moving on.

He carefully put the gym bag down and opened it, revealing the golden skull. Almost immediately, the golden light inundated the hallway, bathing it with its strange, upsetting glow. Then, it converged on Nico, his body turning almost transparent.

When he moved again, picking up the bag and walking down the hallway, not a single sound from him could be heard; his footsteps, the rustle of fabric, the floorboards creaking – none of that made a sound, not even a hush. The strange light made him.... as silent as the approaching Grim Reaper.

He approached an apartment door and reached out for it, only to see that it was ever-so-slightly open. Immediately, he tensed. Nico carefully entered the apartment, not wanting to disrupt anything nor touch stuff and leave behind a trail.

As Nico figured, it was dark inside. No light was switched on. But there was enough illumination from the street, allowing him to see the layout of the living room. No one was here.

Carefully, he placed the bag down by the kitchen entrance where his object waited for him.

There were two men in the kitchen, one African American and large. As for the other guy....

The African man was bound to a chair, blood covering him. Some were new, some dried up. Cuts and bruises were evident, as well as makeshift restraints made up of belts and duck tapes.

The second man was clad in a cloak of darkness. He wore a hood, his face hidden behind a black mask, his wiry but strong frame under a dark overcoat that sucked in all the nearby light.

In his hand, a dagger with a red hilt and a blade inscribed in unknown symbols. The edges glistened with the blood of its victim.

The masked man was growling menacingly at the African American man tied to the chair.

“Where is the girl? Answer me!!”

The bleeding, bound man groaned. “F**k you, asshole. You think you're a hot stuff? You f**king Super.... You ain't nothing, asshole.... You will never find her.... And even if you do find her, she'll be dead by then.”

The bound man cackled between the mouthful of blood and the pain wrecking him. Even someone like Nico could accurately tell this guy was absolutely nowhere near to confessing his crimes, whatever it happened to be. And he was only here for less than a minute.

Perhaps understanding this point too well, the masked man grimaced and began to cut the African man with the dagger while holding the victim's mouth shut. The anger and desperation were palpable in the vigilante's eyes. The muffled screams of pain and terror drowned out all the other noises, the low humming of the old freezer, the slow, rhythmical drip of water from a pipe, the neighbor's loud TV.

“Where is she?!”

After several tens of seconds of continuous torture, the masked man asked again, his voice much more menacing than before.

The African man was about to give up and spill the beans when he had finally noticed Nico standing by the kitchen's entrance, observing what was going on with an interested grin. Nico was focused on the masked man's dagger, watching it move in the air with near religious fervor.

The vigilante also registered the new player on the scene, belatedly stepping back and brandishing the dagger.

“Who the hell are you?”

The vigilante became very vigilant, as his moniker might have suggested. The dagger reflected the street lights, the dazzling quality not diminished one bit with all that blood on the blade.

Nico Gavalas shrugged his shoulders. “Don't mind me. Please, finish what you're doing first, then we'll talk afterwards.”

The vigilante narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “And if I'm not in the mood to talk?”

Nico pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Well, it doesn't matter. I just want that dagger. That's all.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the vigilante pounced. The dagger made a straight beeline at Nico's throat, the move brimming with the naked killing intent.

Nico's face color changed; he quickly stepped back and tilted his body out of the cramped kitchen entrance. The dagger narrowly missed the flesh but the vigilante quickly withdrew and slashed out again, necessitating Nico to take more steps to dodge the incoming attacks.

“You should stop this, mister. You're troubling Uncle Max,” quipped Nico as he expertly escaped the deadly slashes of the masked vigilante.

When the two arrived at the living room, Nico could open up a bit of distance between the two.

“Hey, no need for violence, mister. Just give me that dagger, and you go back to.... finding that girl. No trouble for both of us, right?”

The vigilante snorted coldly.

“You want this dagger? Not sure how you found out about its origins, but no way in hell you're taking it from me!!”

Nico made a complicated face.

“Oh, come on, don't be like that, now. We can negotiate. My liege will exchange with you something just as good. He can grant you enormous power so you can, I don't know, rescue that girl. It's a good deal, don't you think?”

“Shut the hell up!!”

The vigilante athletically jumped over the coffee table getting in the way and performed an aerial kick. But it was all for nothing as Nico simply dodged to his side before landing a solid blow to the airborne vigilante's abdomen with his palm.

The vigilante spat out a mouthful of blood as he crashed against the furniture, smashing them up. At the same time, he lost his grip on the dagger, dropping it on the floor.

“There you go, that wasn't so hard, was it?”

Chuckling in a content manner, Nico glanced over at the coughing vigilante before bending down to pick up the dagger.

“Now, what should I do with you....”

Nico straightened his back and gazed at the vigilante, his fingers tightly coiling around the gleaming weapon. The mask was in the way, but Nico was pretty sure of the vigilante having a very ugly expression right now. Imagining that, he felt quite proud of his own achievements – it only had been less than a week but boy, his strength had grown in leaps and bounds, totally unexplainable by logic and science. He was even more powerful than a Super, for crying out loud!!

Because of his conceited state, he didn't pick up on the cue; the vigilante suddenly moved. He deftly jumped out of the nearest window, smashing past the glass and the mosquito net.

Nico hurriedly went over and looked outside, only to witness the vigilante jumping across to the neighboring rooftop and dashing away.

“Oh. Just as well,” said Nico as he shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't planning to give chase in the first place; after all, if everything went according to plan, then not much of this city would be left behind anyways.

Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, Nico went back to the kitchen entrance where he had lowered the gym bag. He glanced at the bound man before placing the dagger inside the bag.

“Well, sorry for disturbing you. And... oh!! Right, I'm also sorry for the furniture. I couldn't help it. Now then, good evening.”

Smiling at the flabbergasted man, Nico left the apartment in a good mood. And why shouldn't he be? He did get what he came here for, after all. Quite easily, too.

A_Passing_Wanderer · Jun 14, 2017

Chapter 14

Somehow, the night had come and gone without further incident. The morning had arrived, the sun rose as usual, uncaring of the circumstances of the world it was shining on.

Jack did not sleep well. There were too many things to digest, simply too much revelation and information. He wasn't sure where to begin and when to stop.

Since his bedroom was so high up in the sky, the morning sunlight seemed more vivid, hotter and brighter than normal. It cast a warm orange glow on his face, making him squint his eyes as he pulled himself off the white bed. The white curtains automatically withdrew by themselves as his feet touched the floor, which was kinda eerie.

The aches from the sparring match had subsided like it was all lies. He lightly swung his shoulders around for a bit and couldn't help but sigh. Besides that billion dollar Healing Mist thing, his recuperative abilities were truly out of this world. Good thing he had spent so much of his red souls on beefing up that part of him early on.

Right, he said something about helping me with accumulating more of those red souls. Should I take him up on that?

Jack sighed again before heading into the bathroom to wash up. Then he changed into a set of new clothes, provided free of charge by Mylorne Akkad – or, Utnapishtim as he was used to be known as.

Jack couldn't digest that fact. In fact, it was one of the most unbelievable things out of all the revelations so far. If the story was true, then Akkad should be at least five and a half thousand years old, yet the trouble was that he looked not one day older than a person in his forties. That didn't just defy all logic, it violated the mere thought of it from the behind and threw the hurting remnant right off the tallest building in the world, science be damned.

According to Akkad, he was both blessed and cursed with immortality by the so-called gods. An explanation that was simple and elegant, if a bit thin in its veracity, Jack helplessly mused to himself. He was not in a position to retort, after all – seeing that he was, in all intents and purposes, a reincarnated version of Gilgamesh.

That was the another revelation that Jack couldn't easily wrap his head around in – he was not some augmented human nurtured to become a Super soldier for the Big Brother, but rather, a proper clone of Gilgamesh himself. He didn't quite understand all the technical jargon thrown his way, but the gist of it was.... that he was the real deal. The visions in his dreams – they were memories of his past life as the God-King.

And his sudden abilities to fight? That was the fortunate side effects of his bloodline waking up from a deadly crisis, something the old him also had to go through before becoming the uber Super that he allegedly was.

Jack mulled all of these while walking slowly out of the bedroom. The trio of teenage Supers were all awake before them, lounging around in the living area.

Lei was still fiddling around with her iPod, the earphones firmly stuck in her ears; Erik was watching a news broadcast on the TV; while Cleo was munching on some kind of biscuit, her eyes half closed.

As a matter of fact, all three of them had bags under their eyes. No doubt they didn't have a good night's rest, either.

“Morning,” greeted Jack at the trio. Only Lei showed a small, passing interest at it by waving her hand for a second before concentrating on her iPod. Erik was too absorbed in the broadcast to reply, and as for Cleo, well....

On her own accord, she began offering the reasons for the rather strained appearances of her and her friends.

“So, like, I couldn't really sleep. Did you know, that through the TV here I can watch over three thousand movies?! That's, like, a lot. Like, a freakin' lot, you know!! So I was flipping channels to see if there was anything interesting.... for the whole night..... There was a thing about a planet full of monkeys and naked men. And that twist ending, though. I really didn't see that coming, you know? And then, and then....

“And then these guys came out and we just sort of watched stuff on TV until now. Ah, I'm so hungry. Where's breakfast already?!”

Jack smile wryly before shifting his gaze to the screen. His face darkened soon after. Currently, it was a news broadcast, and the segment showed the interior of an airport with Hazmat suit wearing people busily sauntering about while carrying strange equipment. If it weren't for the loud banners proclaiming the reasons for such a scene, Jack might have thought that he was seeing an archival footage instead.

Erik was watching while wearing a white headphone which carried the sound only to him as the TV itself was muted for everyone else. But Jack didn't need the sound the get gist of the story; the aforementioned banners let him know that there was a huge incident in JFK and that countless number of people had died, and that the National Guard was being mobilized as well as the some of the most recognized and powerful Supers were heading to New York to participate in the hunt for the culprit of the tragedy.

The CCTV footage showed a very grainy image of the suspect. Apparently, the entire airport was severely damaged by what this guy did and that included all the security recordings, thus resulting in the poor image quality. That hampered the investigation greatly.

The banner showed that the federal agents and Supers who specialized in investigative side of things were concentrating on going through passenger manifesto from the various airlines, as well as from the countries. That process was taking some time.

Meanwhile, a huge manhunt was unfolding in the city, as the entire Five Boroughs were in a proverbial lockdown since early this morning.

The shot changed between that of stern-looking policemen and women walking around, tense-looking citizens being interviewed, one or two famous Supers flying over the city's skies, as well as the National Guard members arriving in their military trucks.

Then finally, another shot of the airport, and its eerie interior where there were empty, ownerless clothes strewn about the floor. Instead, there was sand. Lots, and lots, of fine yellow sand. Even quite a few walls were gone, and in their places, more sand. It was as if a desert suddenly materialized out of thin air and replaced the airport.

Jack shuddered when he saw that. A flash of memory caused a pulsing migraine. He rubbed his forehead, trying to numb the pain but it wasn't working as well as should. A sense of deadly premonition slowly rose up in his heart, making him shudder even more. It wasn't an actual premonition of the future but rather, akin to him recognizing the sandy condition of the airport and the ill omen that pertained to.

I recognize that. That... I have seen that in my dreams. No, my memories. But... it's not complete. Who did possess the power to turn all things into sand? I know that there was someone, but who?

Jack frowned as the migraine became stronger. He felt like sitting down and drink a whole pitcher full of cold water.

“You okay?”

Cleo asked Jack with an absentminded expression.

Jack nodded and waved his hands to signal that he was okay. “Have you seen Mylorne?”

Cleo pointed with her chin towards a corridor. “He went there just now. Hurry and you might catch him.”

Mumbling his thanks, Jack began walking towards there, while wondering just when he became so friendly with the three Supers who had kidnapped him. It sure was a weird development. Not that he minded it, though, seeing that he was still physically inferior to them and rather prefer not to antagonize them if possible.

Buried in his thoughts as well as the migraine itself, Jack failed to notice a shadow in front and ended up running face first at Mylorne Akkad. At the moment, Akkad had a worried crease on his extremely handsome face as if he had unwittingly stepped on a fresh pile of steaming dog poo. It was quite ugly, and quite frankly, startling to see an expression so.... despotic, for a lack of better description. Whatever the case maybe, Akkad immediately erased it from his face the moment Jack bumped into him – but that was enough for the boy to see it and shudder inwardly.

After exchanging hasty apologies, Mylorne noted the silent news broadcast on the TV and addressed the teens lounging around in the living area. His expressions became rather gloomy as well.

“Everyone, I've some news regarding on what's happening right now. I had planned to slowly introduce this topic but it seems the sisters of fate won't allow me the luxury. Follow me, we'll have light breakfast while we talk.”

~

For something described as light, the breakfast itself was quite diverse in its offering. Never mind the staples like cereal and milk, salads topped with a vast array of condiments and topped with cold cheeses, hams and creams abound, and the bread – Jack, nor the trio of teenage Supers had never even heard of some of the variety on offer.

Even the usually silent Lei retorted a whisper. “This supposed to be light?”

Only Cleo showed no hesitation in digging in, although she made sure to only pick the ham and cheese from the salads. The rest reluctantly dug in after seeing that.

Still carrying a gloomy expression, Mylorne Akkad opened his mouth. He hadn't touched his share of food at all.

“Late yesterday afternoon, an attack of an unprecedented level occurred at the JFK international airport that claimed, potentially, lives of thousands. It's being billed as the biggest attack of its kind against civilians, post 9/11.

“There is no doubt that this was the work of a Super, so the investigation is leaning that way. From my sources I have heard that the approved operatives of The Project Dead Kings will be deployed for the very first time in order to find and apprehend the suspect, who is still at large.”

Erik stopped chewing and glanced at his companions, showing a slightly tense frown. Lei was eating silently but she was indeed listening. It was difficult to tell what she was thinking of at that precise moment, however. And Cleo was munching away, nodding her head absentmindedly.

“But I don't believe it's a simple matter of a rogue Super responsible for the massacre. No, I believe it's something much worse.

“Last night, do you all remember the part of the tale where Professor Evans found a text within the tomb of Gilgamesh that talked about the Lord of Darkness?

“Allow me to expand upon that.”

Mylorne Akkad clapped his hands lightly and the curtains drew close, darkening the dining room. Then a 3D holographic projection appeared above the large dining table, suspended in the air. At first, it was a blur of green dots and broken lines, but soon, a solid image of a stone wall took shape. On it, countless symbols were carved on it.

“That is a section in the God-King Gilgamesh's tomb, laser-scanned for a perfect replication. It's something not even the current U.S military possesses. In this particular section, the tale talks about a creature, a man or woman, if it comes down to that, that are tasked by the Heavenly Beings to carry out their wills in this mortal world.

“This person then shall be known as the bringer of the everlasting dusk, the Lord of the Darkness. The bringer of the world's destruction, as it were.

“I talked about the big picture as the motivation for the beginning of The Project Dead Kings. This is that big picture. Professor Evans saw in his visions the world where the Lord of Darkness had descended upon the ancient world, causing the widespread scale of death and destruction. The project's true end goal has always been to create soldiers to fight this Lord of Darkness.”

“In the end, though, that's still an overpowered Super we are talking about, right? So, on that point alone, nothing much has changed at all for us.” Erik replied, the expression on his face remaining the same.

Mylorne nodded. “Yes, in the end, it may seem the same – an unchecked Super killing the innocent civilians solely for the purpose of sowing chaos. Any other Supers can handle such a criminal. But at the same time, you should note that this supposed Lord of Darkness possesses enough abilities to achieve that goal of the world's end. I assure you, this threat is as real as your beating hearts.

“You are all at a crossroad. As per the agreement, I will provide, to the best of my abilities, means for you three to find a new life if you so choose. But.... if you also feel that there was a meaning in the reasons of your existence, then you can also choose to partake in the original goal of the project.

“No one can make these decisions for you. You have to make them yourselves. As for how will the future unfold.... I do not pretend to know the answers.

“Normally, you should take your time to make the decision that will dictate how you will live the rest of your lives. But because of the yesterday's attack, the circumstances have drastically changed, for the worse.

“The method of may not be clear, judging by the aftermath, I can safely conclude that the wielder of this power has a background not too dissimilar to you all.”

Erik put on a confused face. Lei seemed the same, although she had stopped eating. As Cleo, she had finished her portion already, reaching out for the second helping.

Jack had long since put down his fork, instead focusing on the words spoken by the five-thousand-year-old man. The more he heard, the clearer his fogged up memories got. Now, he could vaguely make the shape of a person from the past who could turn things into sand, even people.

If there was one important feeling he got from that image, was that this person was seriously a bad news. Very, very bad.

“What are you saying? That there are other countries out there making Supers like the U.S military? And it's one of those that came to cause a havoc?”

Erik asked, sounding rather unconvinced.

“This nation has a lot of enemies due because of either the idiotic foreign policies of the past and present, economic might that can only come from suppressing the others through unfair trade deals, or even the desires of the oppressed sovereignties to overcome the superior military might backing this nation's feckless leaders. You can pick your poison from that pool.

“Either way, there are enough of well-financed entities that could, potentially, start a devastating war of Supers that would lend most of the known weaponry useless.

“It's under this assumption that I say, that the one responsible for the JFK massacre is someone artificially augmented to become a Super. And this guy, this terrorist, is out to harm even more lives.

“Unfortunately, the authority figures have chosen to lock down the five great Boroughs of New York city, all in the hopes of cornering the culprit within what is effectively a smaller search area but honestly, wouldn't that only give the bad guy, the new Lord of Darkness, more targets to vent his anger on? The defenseless civilians who are caught in the crossfire.”

“Okay, that's terrible news but,” Erik interjected abruptly. “But, what does that got to do with us? We're simply like any other Supers. No, we were forced to become one. We are victims as well here. There is no obligation for us to go out there and deal with this Lord of Darkness.”

There was a slight pause, a deafening and uncomfortable silence filling the gap. But as usual, it was Cleo who broke it.

“But hey, I've my family living in Queens. Isn't that in New York? It is, right?! Doesn't that mean my parents are in danger?! From this Lord of Darkness of whatever.”

She suddenly stood up with a bang, sending her chair flying back. It was so sudden, everyone flinched except for Mylorne Akkad.

“I gotta go there, like right now!!”

“No, wait a minute, Cleo!! What will you going over there achieve? You are just a kid with a bit of power. You go there, you'll only get in the way.”

Erik got up from his own seat and tried to calm his companion down.

“That's not true, you know?! Didn't Mister Akkad say it? That other guys from the Project will go there? Then our friends will be there too, you know? I can ask for their help!! It'll work out fine, right?”

“Are you an idiot?” Erik wearily massaged his head. “We came here, hoping to get away from them, yet you want to hand yourself right back? That doesn't make sense!! Just.... stay behind, and let the others take care of it. We are not needed there, like, at all.”

“But, but!! It's my family, you know?! My family is there. Not yours. That reason alone is good enough for me to go there!! As long as that psycho is running loose in the city, then I'm going!!”

Erik was speechless. It wasn't like he failed to understand Cleo's reasoning. But at the same time, going to New York was like walking into a trap-filled lion's den. That's how he felt about it.

“Hold on, you two. It's more complicated than that.”

Mylorne Akkad interrupted the heated exchange.

A new image replaced the holographic image of the stone wall and its writings. It was a grainy footage of an airport's interior. Jack recognized it immediately as the same one shown on TV, but this time the quality was somewhat better, allowing the viewers a cleaner look at what was happening. And it showed a queue of people standing around to clear the customs.

“This is what the initial restoration to the damaged security video footage from the airport looks like. Have a closer look.”

Jack paid attention as the people slowly advanced and did their things. Eventually, a scene of an African American female officer drawing her sidearm occurred. She was pointing at a man with a black hair and an average build right after scanning of his luggage was completed. There was no sound accompanying the video so it was impossible to tell what was going on precisely, but all those present and watching could make one or two educated guesses.

But then, the female officer began to spasm as if she was having a seizure, shortly before collapsing on the floor. This was after she was touching the man. Other people around began to collapse as well for no apparent reason at all. The crowd began to run away in panic.

The man then touched the item exposed from the bag – it was when a strange ripple rumbled past the image. The ripple seemed so real especially as it was seen as a three-dimensional projection.

Those running away were hit by this ripple and began collapsing one after the other. It was like watching domino pieces falling and no less unsettling either.

But the next thing made everyone, except for Mylorne Akkad, gasp out in shock.

A few seconds later, people that fell on the floor began to wither. Literally, as if their bodies were rapidly losing any and all liquids in them. The rate of this horrendous withering could be seen by the naked eyes, meaning it was incredibly fast, like someone pressing a fast forward on a video playback.

Even the walls and inanimate objects hit by this ripple began to wither up as well. Soon, the only things left behind were sand, with a few exceptions of artificial fabrics and some stone objects remaining still.

“Holy sh*t.”

Erik swore under his breath, then turned to Cleo with a pair of bloodshot eyes.

“See that? Can you do anything against something like that?! Huh? I sure know I can't. So should you.”

Erik was livid; he felt like the last couple of days were lies designed to make him feel utterly mad. And whoever it was, it sure did a bang-up job. More importantly, though – he felt scared. Deeply, deeply scared. Nominally, he was the leader of this trio, this group of runaways. It was his responsibility to keep them together and continue moving forward, together. Yet....

He knew there was a crossroad waiting for them. Knowing that, he still accepted the invitation that Mylorne Akkad had made covertly while he was still at the Fort McGinley. Hell, he even roped in Lei Ming and Cleo Costanza, thinking that their abilities would be perfect to make the escape unhindered. And he was right about that, making him feel pretty good about himself.

The truth was though, he didn't choose the two of them solely because of their abilities, but because they were his friends. The life at the Fort was harsh, filled with tough and hellish, unforgiving training every single day. On top of that, he was taken from his home when he was barely eight years old.

He couldn't even clearly remember the faces of his family anymore. He couldn't even remember the name of the street he used to live on. And that scared him; Erik was losing an important part of himself.

So, he thought that, even after escaping, he'd still be with his friends. But now.... Cleo wishes to go on her own way, knowing that it was very dangerous. He wasn't going to let her go like this, not at all.

“I'll zoom in on the bag. Watch closely what's inside.”

Akkad clapped his hands again and the image rewound back to the moment before the female customs officer pulled out her gun. Then the viewpoint closed in on the gym bag past the scanner.

Jack was unsure of what was on the hologram. It was round, golden in color. Also, there seemed like a slab of something as well. It wasn't exactly what he expected to see emerge from a bag. Gradually, the image quality improved as a layer upon layer of color and pixels were overlayed on top of each other.

“It's an image processing software that one of my subsidiary company had recently developed. It's not on market yet but the end result should speak for itself.”

Akkad then quickly explained the logic behind the software but quite frankly, no one beside Lei could really understand it. Regardless, after about three dozen layering, the image quality was such that one could discern what were inside the bag.

“A golden skull and a stone tablet?”

Cleo muttered, confused. Lei frowned, also not getting it. As for Erik, he was not paying attention. He was far too deep in his own thoughts to notice.

And then, there was Jack, left with a dizzying headache; he even felt like blacking out at one point.

He felt the ripple that killed all those people as if he was there, receiving the brunt of the attack. That nauseated him greatly. But that skull was on a whole new level. He felt the disgust and hate rise in the pit of his stomach like there's no tomorrow. He felt this incredible urge to reach out and crush that object right away.

But why? Why am I reacting like this?!

Jack only ever felt anger and disgust like this against the two Supers that caused all his classmates to die. No, this one was even stronger by several notches. Yet he had not seen this skull before. Besides, it was just an object, a thing with no emotion, no life. It was simply nuts.

“That golden skull, I believe, belongs to the Ensi of Bad-tibira, the conqueror of the ancient kingdom of Eridug, En-men-lu-ana the Tyrant.”

The mentioning of that strange and ancient name shook Jack to the core. A vision of a face floated in his mind, a face of endless arrogance and contempt, a face belonging to the Enemy of The World.

Jack shuddered, he himself now standing up. His fists clenched tightly, his breaths quickening. His mouth ran dry but still, his shrill, urgent voice found its way out to the open and startle everyone else.

“That guy.... he's going to kill everyone in New York!! We need to stop him at all cost!!”

Here's the new chapter. Enjoy, and comment if something about my writing is buggin' the hell out of you. I'll listen, promise, and if possible, try to accomodate. Honest.

Edit (14th June):

Chapter 14: The Identity

Before anyone knew, the new day arrived. Saturday changed to Sunday. Jack dazedly opened his eyes, wondering for a second where he was as his eyes focused on the unfamiliar ceiling above. It took a short while before it all registered in his brain.

He found his ability to go to sleep somewhat funny. He hadn't taken a single sleeping pill last night, yet as soon as his face hit the comfy white pillow, he just passed out like a drunkard.

Why was that? Jack could only suspect his own accumulated mental fatigue. The constant barrage of shocks and revelations he had received throughout the whole of yesterday was indeed bothering on insanity so it was kind of expected.

Jack sat up on the white bed and groaned. His head was muddled and it was not easy to focus his thoughts. The curtains automatically drew apart and slowly revealed the rising morning sun, breaking out of the horizon.

Jack offhandedly thought that the world at large would continue to spin around, uncaring of the circumstances and battles that the mere mortals fought every single day. That rising sun was the perfect example of how insignificant his own troubles seemed.

And where would he even begin to digest what he learned?

The bedroom was high up in the sky; the morning clouds were his neighbors. The orange glow of the morning sunlight felt more vivid, hotter and brighter than usual. Jack squinted his eyes as the glare of warm rays stroked his face.

He gingerly pulled himself up off the bed and stretched his cramped limbs. The aches from the sparring match and Cleo's beatdown had all but disappeared as if they were all lies told by a cry wolf. To make sure it wasn't just the good rest he had masking the pains and aches, he lightly swung his shoulders around for a bit.

He was perfectly fine. Then he remembered that he did access that red soul space inside his mind during the night. As more blood circulated to his brain, Jack recalled doing some stuff in there to heal the hidden injuries. Coupled with that billion dollar Healing Mist thingy, it was obvious that his recuperative abilities would get a serious, out of this world boost.

Of course, he also had a brief glimpse of the past him. Of Gilgamesh. This time, it was about him meeting Utnapishtim and his wife. Gilgamesh wanted the secret to the eternal life, the immortality. The unhappy looks of Utnapishtim were kind of funny, Jack mused quietly to himself.

Oh, right, Mylorne Akkad said something about helping me with accumulating more of those red souls. Should I take him up on that?

Jack sighed softly before heading to the bathroom to wash up. Then he changed into a set of new clothes, provided free of charge by the gracious host Mylorne Akkad.

That was one of those hard-to-digest facts Jack had to face. Out of many unbelievable revelations, this one ranked pretty high up there as the most improbable things to happen. But the more he thought about it, the truer it seemed. The face of Utnapishtim in his dreams/memories was the exact same one with Mylorne Akkad's, minus the bushy caveman-style beard and the curly, waist-length hair.

That made Akkad over five thousand years old. No, much more than that, since in his memories, the great flood, The Cleansing Flood, happened many, many thousands of years before the era of Gilgamesh. Then, just how ancient was he?!

So, him looking like a fit forty-something yuppie defied all logic. The whole idea violated the mere thought of any common sense from behind and threw the hurting remnant right off the tallest building in the world, science be damned.

But Jack was not in any position to retort to how absurd it all was. After all, he was a reincarnated version of the God-King Gilgamesh – so he too was in the midst of busy violating the common sense, albeit unknowingly.

Ah, yes, the biggest elephant in the room.

Jack splashed cold water on his face and stared at the reflection. No matter how hard he looked, he.... seemed normal. Obviously one wouldn't be able to tell apart a genetics-augmented being from a regular person but still.

But he wasn't an augmented Super soldier for the Big Brother. He was much, much more than that. The children of the Project Dead Kings were augmented with the various genes of historical Supers, their genes glued together by Gilgamesh's own.

In Jack's case, though – no such thing. Nope.

He was the proper clone of Gilgamesh. He was 100% the legendary figure from the past. The face that was staring back in the mirror, that was Gilgamesh's. The hand that scooped the cold water from the faucet belonged to Gilgamesh.

He was the Gilgamesh. Just a lot weaker.

When he heard that straight from the mouth of Mylorne Akkad or Utnapishtim the Immortal, the Preserver of Life, Jack could no longer stand. He needed a rest. He needed to hide somewhere and just crash for a couple of hours. So, the reasons of why he wasn't taken like the other kids in the Project would be conveyed to him at a later stage. Jack was fine with that schedule. Absolutely fine.

Well, this was a new day, and he'd have to face more of the mysteries surrounding himself and his family.

Jack mulled all of these facts and questions while walking slowly out of the bedroom. The trio of teenage Supers was all awake already, and they were lounging around in the living area.

Lei was, as usual, fiddling around with her iPod and the red earphones were also firmly stuck in her ears. Erik was watching the TV with a pair of white headphones while Cleo was munching on some kind of biscuit, her eyes half closed. It was difficult to tell whether she was wide awake or busy sleepwalking.

As a matter of fact, all three of them had thick dark bags under their eyes. It seemed that Jack was the only one who “enjoyed” a good night's rest.

“Morning,” greeted Jack at the trio. Only Lei showed a small, passing interest at it by waving her hand for a second before concentrating on her iPod again. Erik was too absorbed in the broadcast to reply, and as for Cleo, well....

On her own accord, she began offering the reasons for the rather strained appearances of her and her friends.

“So, like, I couldn't really sleep. Did you know, that I can watch over three thousand movies on that massive TV? That's, like, a lot. Like, a freakin' lot, you know!! So I was flipping channels to see if there was anything interesting.... for the whole night..... There was a thing about a planet full of monkeys and naked men. And that twist ending, though. I really didn't see that coming, you know? And then, this guy, trying to steal 50 cars in one night.... And he was flying in the end. That was pretty cool. I wish I could fly like that. And then, and then....

“And then these guys came out and we just sort of watched stuff on TV until now. Ah, I'm so hungry. Where's breakfast already?!”

Jack smile wryly before shifting his gaze to the screen. His face darkened slightly soon after.

Currently, it was showing a news broadcast. The segment showed the interior of an airport with Hazmat suit wearing people busily sauntering about while carrying around several strange-looking types of equipment. If it weren't for the loud banners proclaiming the reasons for such a scene, Jack might have thought that he was seeing an archival footage instead.

Only Erik could hear the contents of the broadcast via the headphone but Jack didn't need the sound the get gist of the story; the aforementioned banners told him enough.

There was a huge incident in JFK and that the countless number of people had died. The National Guard was being mobilized as well as the some of the most recognized and powerful Supers were heading to New York to participate in the hunt for the culprit of the tragedy.

The CCTV footage showed a very grainy image of the suspect. Apparently, the entire airport was severely damaged by what this guy did and that included almost all of the security recordings, thus resulting in the poor image quality. Apparently, that extensive damage was hampering the progress of the investigation.

The banner showed that the federal agents and Supers who specialized in investigative side of things were concentrating on going through several passenger manifestos provided by the various airlines. Comparing the names and the country of origin from those lists was a tedious process but something that had to be done in order to identify the victims as well.

Meanwhile, a huge manhunt was unfolding in the city, as the entire Five Boroughs were in a proverbial lockdown since late yesterday.

The screen's image kept on changing from that of stern-looking policemen and women walking around to tense-looking citizens being interviewed; from one or two famous Supers flying over the city's skies, to the National Guard members arriving in their military trucks.

Then finally, another shot of the airport, and its eerie interior where there were empty, ownerless clothes strewn about the floor. No bodies to speak of. Not even a spot of blood, anywhere. Instead, there was sand. Lots, and lots, of fine yellow sand.

Quite a few walls had melted and in their places, more sand. It was as if a desert suddenly materialized out of thin air and replaced some part of the airport's interior.

Jack shuddered involuntarily when he saw that. A flash of dark memory caused a now-familiar pulsing migraine. He rubbed his forehead, trying to numb the pain but it didn't work. A sense of deadly premonition slowly rose up in his heart, making him shudder even more. It was not an actual premonition of the future but rather, akin to him recognizing the sandy condition of the airport and the ill omen that pertained to.

I recognize that. That... I have seen that in one of my dreams. No, my memories. But... it's not complete. Who possessed the power to turn all things into sand? I know that there was someone, but who?

Jack frowned as the migraine became stronger. He felt like sitting down and drink a whole pitcher full of cold water.

“You okay?”

Cleo asked Jack with an absentminded expression.

Jack nodded and waved his hands to signal that he was okay. “Have you seen Mylorne Akkad? Is he up?”

Cleo pointed with her chin towards a corridor. “He went over there. Hurry and you might catch him.”

Mumbling his thanks, Jack began walking towards there, while wondering just when he became so friendly with the three Supers who had kidnapped him. But that was better than being in an antagonistic relationship seeing that he was still inferior physically, so he was happier to maintain this trajectory of development.

Musing the turn of events, as well as slightly buzzed out by the migraine, Jack failed to notice a shadow in front and ended up running face first at Mylorne Akkad.

At that very moment, Akkad too had not noticed Jack. A deep crease had settled on his extremely handsome face, the kind one might sport after unwittingly stepping on a fresh pile of steaming dog poo.

The expression itself was quite ugly, and quite frankly, Jack found it rather startling to see something so.... despotic, for a lack of better description, on the face of Mylorne Akkad. It was totally out of character.

But whatever the reason for the frown had been, Akkad immediately eased it from his face right after Jack bumped into him. Too late, as that brief moment was enough for the boy to commit it to memory and shudder inwardly.

Hasty apologies were exchanged quickly. Then Mylorne noted the silent news broadcast on the TV and addressed the teens lounging around in the living area. His expression was solemn like a doctor delivering a bad news to the waiting families of a patient going through a life-saving operation.

“Everyone, I've some news regarding on what had happened in New York. I was originally planning to introduce this topic at a later date but it seems the sisters of fate won't allow me the luxury. Follow me, we'll have light breakfast while we talk.”

~

For something described as light, the breakfast itself was quite diverse in its offering. Never mind the staples like cereal and milk, salads topped with a vast array of condiments and with cold cheeses, hams and creams abound, and the assortment of bread – Jack, nor the trio of teenage Supers, had never even heard of some of the variety on offer.

Even the usually silent Lei couldn't help but launch a whispered retort. “This is supposed to be light?!”

Only Cleo showed no hesitation in digging in, although she made sure to only pick the ham and cheese from the salads. The rest reluctantly dug in after seeing that.

Still carrying a solemn expression, Mylorne Akkad opened his mouth. He hadn't touched his share of food yet.

“Late yesterday afternoon, an attack of an unprecedented level occurred at the JFK airport that claimed the lives of thousands of innocent people. It's being billed as the biggest attack of its kind against civilians, post 9/11.

“There is little doubt that this was the work of a Super, so the investigation has inevitably leaned towards that way. From my sources, I have heard that the approved operatives of The Project Dead Kings will be deployed for the very first time in order to find and apprehend the suspect, who is still at large.”

Erik stopped chewing and glanced at his companions, showing a slightly tense frown. Lei was eating silently but she was still listening. It was difficult to tell what she was thinking of at that precise moment, however. As for Cleo, she was munching away, nodding her head absentmindedly.

“But I believe it's more than just a simple matter of a rogue Super causing the massacre. No, I fear it's something far, far worse.

“Last night, do you all remember the part of the tale where Professor Evans found a text within the tomb of Gilgamesh that talked about the Lord of Darkness?

“Allow me to expand upon that.”

Mylorne Akkad clapped his hands lightly and the curtains drew close, darkening the dining room. Then a 3D holographic projection appeared above the large dining table, suspended in the air. At first, it was a blur of green dots and broken lines, but soon, a solid image of a stone wall took shape. Countless ornate symbols could be seen on the surface.

“This is a section in the God-King Gilgamesh's tomb, laser-scanned for a perfect replication. It's something not even the current U.S military and the overseers of the Project Dead Kings possess. In this particular section, the tale talks about a creature, a man or woman, if it comes down to that, who are tasked by the Heavenly Beings, the gods to you and me, to carry out their wills in this mortal world.

“This person then shall be known as the bringer of the everlasting Dusk, the Lord of the Darkness. The bringer of the world's destruction, as it were.

“I talked about the big picture as the motivation for the beginning of The Project Dead Kings. This is that big picture. Professor Evans saw in his visions the world where the Lord of Darkness had descended upon the ancient world, causing the widespread scale of death and destruction. The project's true end goal has always been to create soldiers to fight this Lord of Darkness.”

“In the end, though, that's still an overpowered Super we are talking about, right? Regardless of what that lord of darkness is, nothing much has changed for us.”

Erik replied, the expression on his face remaining the same.

Mylorne nodded. “Yes, in the end, it may seem the business as usual – an unchecked Super killing the innocent civilians solely for the purpose of sowing chaos. Any other Supers can handle such a criminal. But at the same time, you should note that this supposed Lord of Darkness possesses powerful abilities to achieve that goal of the world's end. I assure you, this threat is as real as your beating hearts.

“Within you, flows the blood of the ancient kings and heroes. They fought to protect the powerless from the Lords of Darkness and their desire to sow chaos. And now, although unfairly, you are tasked with the similar purpose.

“Thus, you all are at a crossroad. As per the agreement, I will provide, to the best of my abilities, means for you to find a new life if you so choose. But if you also feel that there was a meaning in the reasons of your existence, then you can also choose to partake in the original goal of the project, to protect the civilians caught in the nefarious plans of the villainous Lord of Darkness.

“No one can make these decisions for you. You have to make them yourselves. As for how the future will unfold.... I won't pretend to know all the answers.

“Now normally, you should take your time to make this most important decision. But because of the yesterday's event, the circumstances have drastically changed for the worse. You need to make the choice as soon as possible. Because, I fear, my presence is required there right away. It's unknown how long I must stay there.

“Also.... there is something else that needs to be mentioned. The method of attack may not be clear, but judging by the aftermath, I came to the conclusion that the wielder of this power has a background not too dissimilar to you all.”

Erik put on a confused face. Lei seemed the same, although she had stopped eating. As Cleo, she had finished her portion already, reaching out for the second helping.

Jack had long since put down his fork. He was too busy contemplating his future. Honestly, he was only half listening for now, although he had a faint feeling that the person shown in the grainy footage, the one who could reduce people into a pile of sand was a very bad news. But that guy and this Lord of Darkness or whatever was beyond the scope of his abilities. They didn't even feature in his thought process.

No, he had to think carefully about what he needed to do, and what he wanted to do.

Last night, Mylorne Akkad pledged his support. He would financially aid Jack. Why? In order to revive the glory of Gilgamesh and for the survival of the human race.

Jack didn't like the idea of him shouldering the weight of the entire world. He certainly was not interested in doing that. He just wanted to get his revenge and then...

And then, what? What should he do after achieving his goal?

“What are you saying? Are there other countries making Supers like the U.S military? And it's one of those Supers that came here to cause a havoc?”

Erik asked, sounding rather unconvinced.

“This nation has made enemies due to either the ill-conceived foreign policies of the past and present, the economic might that can only come from suppressing the vulnerable smaller nations through unfair trade deals, or even, the desires of those oppressed sovereignties to overcome the superior military might backing this nation's feckless leaders. You can pick your poison from that pool.

“Either way, there are enough of well-financed entities that could, potentially, fund a devastating war of Supers taking place on our doorstep that would lend most of the known weaponry useless.

“Of course, I have no definite proof to back up this assumption. But the ability displayed by the culprit belonged to a certain ancient Super. It'd be difficult to fully explain the overlap of the power so easily. Unless he was someone artificially augmented to become a Super. Just like you. And this man, this terrorist, is out to harm even more lives. Make no mistake about it. He plans to shed more blood.

“Unfortunately, the authority figures have chosen to lock down the five great Boroughs of New York City, all in the hopes of cornering the culprit within what they believe is a smaller search area. But wouldn't that only give the bad guy, the new Lord of Darkness, more targets? The defenseless civilians who are caught in the crossfire?”

“Okay, that's terrible news but,” Erik interjected abruptly. “But, what does that got to do with us? We're simply like any other Supers. No, we were forced to become one. We are also victims here. There is absolutely no obligation for us to go out there and deal with this Lord of Darkness.”

There was a slight pause. It was an uncomfortable silence, filling the tense, unbridgeable gap. Mylorne shrugged his shoulders slightly.

“That is why I asked you to make the choice. Whether you go there and save the day or not, or choose to live a civilian's life, that is up to you.”

Erik grabbed his fork and began shoving the food in his mouth. “Well, it's not a tough one for me. I know what I want, and it's got nothing to do with the project or the military.”

Jack took a glance at Erik. Behind the glasses, he looked sullen but determined.

Jack envied that, the strong will of Erik. He wished he had that, too. A drive to single-mindedly stick to the one goal he had set for himself, regardless of the distractions and obstacles, unlike Jack who couldn't even keep his eye on the prize.

Inwardly, Jack sighed. Erik seemed to display more of a king-like personality trait than him. Maybe Mylorne Akkad mixed it up and it was Erik who was the clone of the God-King instead of him.

Jack then glanced at Lei. She didn't give anything away with her impassive face. He hadn't been with her for long, so trying to read her emotions was impossible.

But Cleo was different. Somehow, something tumbling around in her brain suddenly struck her lightbulb switch.

“But hey, I've my family living in Queens. Isn't that in New York? It is, right?! Doesn't that mean my parents are in danger?! From this Lord of Darkness of whatever?!”

She suddenly stood up with a bang, sending her chair flying back. It was so sudden, everyone flinched except for Mylorne Akkad.

“I gotta go there, like right now!!”

Cleo shouted passionately before turning around. She was heading to the exit, thinking that she'd get there in a jiffy.

“No, wait a minute, Cleo!! What will you going over there achieve? You are just a kid with a bit of power. You go there, you'll only get in the way and get caught!!”

Erik got up from his own seat and went after her, trying to calm his companion down.

“That's not true, you know?! Didn't Mister Akkad say it? That other guys from the Project will be there? Then our friends will be there too, you know? I can ask for their help!! It'll work out fine, right?”

“Are you an idiot?” Erik wearily massaged his head. “No, don't answer that. Okay, listen to me, Cleo. Why did we come here in the first place, selling out secrets of the Project in the process? We did it so we can get away from them. Yet you want to hand yourself right back? That doesn't make sense!! Just.... stay behind, and let the others take care of it. We are not needed there, like, at all.”

“But, but!! It's my family, you know?! My family is there. Not yours. That reason alone is good enough for me to go there!! As long as that psycho is running loose in the city, then I'm going!!”

Erik was rendered speechless. It wasn't like he failed to understand Cleo's reasoning but he also knew that going to New York at this time was like deliberately walking into a trap-filled lion's den wearing a robe made out of sausages and mustard.

“Hold on, you two. I've received new info. Looks like my computer has improved the footage from the airport. Take a seat and have a look.”

Mylorne Akkad interrupted the heated exchange of the two and calmly implored them.

A new image replaced the holographic image of the stone wall and its writings. It was a grainy footage of an airport's interior. Jack recognized it immediately as the same one shown on TV, but this time the quality was somewhat better, allowing the viewers a cleaner look at what was happening. And it showed a queue of people standing around to clear the customs.

“The computer has been working on cleaning up the image quality and this is the resulting restoration of the damaged security footage from the airport. Let us see if there is something new to consider.”

Jack paid close attention to the projection.

In it, the crowd of people slowly advanced and did their things. Eventually, a scene of an African American female officer drawing her sidearm occurred. She was pointing at a man with a black hair and an average build right after the scanning of his luggage was completed. There was no sound accompanying the video so it was impossible to tell what was going on precisely, but all those present and watching could make one or two educated guesses.

But then, the female officer began to spasm as if she was having a seizure shortly before collapsing on the floor. She stopped moving then. This was right after she touched the suspicious man. Other people around him began to collapse as well for no apparent reason. Then the crowd was seen running away in panic.

The man then touched one of the items exposed from the bag and that was when a strange ripple rumbled past the image. The ripple seemed so real, especially seeing that it was a three-dimensional projection.

Those running away were hit by this ripple and collapsed one after the other. It was like watching domino pieces falling, and was without a doubt, quite unsettling as well.

But the next thing made everyone, even for Mylorne Akkad, gasp out in shock.

A few seconds later, people that fell on the floor began to wither. Literally, as if their bodies were rapidly losing any and all liquid in them. The rate of this horrendous withering could be seen by the naked eye, meaning it was incredibly fast, like someone pressing a fast forward on a video playback.

Even some of the walls and inanimate objects hit by this ripple began to wither up too. Soon, the only things left behind were sand, with a few exceptions of artificial fabrics and some stone objects remaining still.

“Holy sh*t,” Erik swore under his breath, then turned to Cleo with a pair of bloodshot eyes. “See that? Can you do anything against something like that?! Huh? I sure know I can't. So should you, Cleo. You can't go to New York, if you wanna live!!”

Erik was quite livid, both at this absurd situation and at the incredibly crappy timing. He felt like the last couple of days were lies designed to make him feel utterly mad. And whoever did it, that guy sure did a bang-up job. But more importantly, though – he felt terrified. Deeply, deeply terrified.

Nominally, he was the leader of this trio, this group of runaways. It was his responsibility to keep them together and continue moving forward, together. Yet....

He always knew there would be a crossroad waiting. For him and for his friends. And he also knew that not everyone would agree with his choice.

Knowing that, he still accepted the invitation Mylorne Akkad had made covertly. Erik wanted to get the hell away from the Fort McGinley. He wished to be free of the chains binding him to that place. He wished to be free as the birds soaring in the sky, as cliched as that sounded.

For that purpose, he even roped in Lei Ming and Cleo Costanza, thinking that their abilities would be a perfect fit to his escape plan. And he was right. They not only agreed to escape together, but they were more than useful in the attempt to get away. He had every right to feel pretty good about himself up until then.

But actually, Erik didn't choose Lei and Cleo solely because of their abilities but because they were his friends. The life at the Fort was harsh, filled with tough and hellish, unforgiving training every single day. He and the others were treated as tools and weapons of combat, sometimes even prodded with measuring equipment like some kind of test subjects.

And yes, not a single day went by without Erik recalling the moment when they came to abduct him from his home when he was barely eight years old.

The funny thing was, he could no longer remember the faces of his family. His mom, his dad, his older brothers – their faces were all a blur, their smiles nothing more than dark, upside-down half moons plastered on a set of melting visages.

Hell, Erik couldn't even remember the name of the street he used to live on.

And that terrified him; Erik had somehow lost an important part of himself. He understood that it was his power that was the cause of all this. If he was forced to use it again and again, like how the instructors at the Fort was forcing him to, then soon or later nothing of things that made him Erik would be left behind. He had to escape. Or he'd cease to exist.

So, he thought that after bringing his friends with him, he'd still be with them. It wouldn't matter whether he could remember his family or not, as long as he had Lei and Cleo around. He wouldn't forget them. No way in hell.

But now.... Cleo was clamoring to go on her own way, knowing that it was very dangerous, that very likely she'd get captured. And away from him.

Erik wasn't going to let her go like this, not at all.

“I'll zoom in on the bag. Let's see what's inside it, what made that customs officer react like that.”

Akkad clapped his hands again and the image rewound back to the moment before the female customs officer pulled out her gun. Then the viewpoint closed in on the gym bag past the scanner.

Jack was unsure of what was on the hologram. It was round, golden in color. Also, there seemed like a slab of something as well. It wasn't exactly what he expected to see emerge from a bag. Gradually, the image quality improved as a layer upon layer of color and pixels were overlayed on top of each other.

“It's an image processing software that one of my subsidiary company had recently developed. It's not on the market yet but the end result should speak for itself.”

Akkad proudly explained the logic behind the software but quite frankly, no one beside Lei could really understand it, nor were they terribly interested in it. Regardless, after about three dozen layering, the image quality was such that one could discern what was inside the bag.

“A golden skull and a stone tablet?”

Cleo muttered, confused. Lei frowned, also not getting it. As for Erik, he was not paying attention. He was far too deep in his own thoughts to notice.

And then, there was Jack. The sense of incongruity was incredibly strong, so much so that he was suffering from a dizzying headache; he even felt like blacking out at one point.

He was under this intense flashback to one of the hidden memories of the past. He was there, before that ripple, and received the brunt of the attack. The recollection nauseated him greatly.

Right away, Jack felt the intense disgust and hate rise in the pit of his stomach. An incredible urge to reach out and crush that golden skull right away nearly overwhelmed him.

But why? Why am I reacting like this?!

Jack had only ever felt anger and disgust like this against the two Supers that caused all his classmates to die.

But the longer his eyes remained on that golden skull, the stronger his fury grew by several notches.

Jack was sure that he had never seen the skull before. Besides, it was just an object, a thing with no emotion, no life. It was simply nuts to feel this negative towards an inanimate object like this.

“That.... Could it be....?” Mylorne Akkad muttered, his face pale as a sheet. “The skull of the Ensi of Bad-tibira, the conqueror of the ancient kingdom of Eridug, slaughterer of billion lives and the Tyrant of the Eight Continents, En-men-lu-ana the Mad King?!”

Jack's vision shook. The strange and ancient name caused the most severe flashback that was as strong as the ones he encountered during his sleep.

A vision of a young face floated in his mind, a face of endless arrogance and contempt, a face belonging to the Enemy of The World.

Jack shuddered, he himself now standing up. His fists clenched tightly, his breaths quickening. His mouth ran dry but still, his shrill, urgent voice found its way out to the open and startle everyone else.

“That guy.... he's going to kill everyone in New York!! We need to stop him at all cost!!”

A_Passing_Wanderer · Jun 24, 2017

Chapter 15

“You're sure that Jack is in there?”

Min-jung asked Taylor as the two of them peered over the electrified fence and at the tall white tower that stretched its way into the heavens. They were sitting inside Min-jung's SUV, off the beaten path and parked on a grassland surrounded by thick enough vegetation to hide the bulky body of the vehicle. At least that's what she hoped for, anyways.

Taylor nodded stiffly, her eyes were bloodshot and the complexion was rather pale as if she had to exert a lot of effort. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure Jack's inside. His life signal is hard to sense because of all the distance and the material of the tower but he's definitely in there. I can feel him.”

Taylor replied slowly before opening her eyes. She focused her powers to the utmost narrowest possible range in order to increase the detection distance and was able to barely sense Jack within the tower through all the obstruction in her way. As expected, the deed took a lot out of her. It was at times like these she really didn't like the limitation of her powers. If she was just a bit stronger, then she'd be more of a help...

Min-jung looked on at the tower itself, her expression gravely cold. Her worst fears now had been confirmed – her son was indeed in the grips of the crazed man. No, that wasn't quite correct; Mylorne Akkad was not crazed but obsessed, instead. Obsessed over the legend of Gilgamesh, obsessed over the resurrection of the Lord of Darkness, obsessed over the matters of her son's growth. Compared to that, his desire to make money seemed like a hobby practiced every now and then simply to stave off the encroaching boredom.

But now, things had changed drastically. Mylorne Akkad somehow had conspired his way into attaining everything he was obsessed over. Who knew what he'd do now that almost all the chess pieces have been gathered in front of him?

But one thing was sure; since Min-jung had the final confirmation with the help of this young Super, she knew what had to be done. She had to move right now and save her child from the madness of Mylorne Akkad before Jack was irreversibly affected by the silky, sophisticated but still potent poison. For that purpose, she even brought along the handgun for it.

She bought the gun secretly, meaning illegally, unbeknownst even to her husband. No one knew that she had it. Normally, Min-jung kept it pretty well hidden but today, it would see some action. She even visited a firing range to practice not too long ago, fearing that the day she needed to pull the trigger was almost upon her. Well, that day had arrived with a bang. No turning back now.

But the problem was with Taylor, the girl next to her. Min-jung was unwilling to have her become an accessory if something untoward happened between Akkad and her gun. There was simply no guarantee of the two of them finding a peaceful resolution here this day.

Min-jung was well aware that it was Taylor who came to offer her services voluntarily but still, there had to be a line that the teen should not be made to cross, no matter what, no matter how willing she was. But what options did she have right now? Take Taylor back home, and waste more time that way when she didn't have much, to begin with?

Well, things wouldn't have been delayed like this, if she wasn't trapped in that godawful underground military base for hours and hours in the end. What an ordeal that proved to be, what with everyone inside that base running around absolutely everywhere like a flock of headless chickens, further adding to the high level of uncertainty and confusion.

Worse still, since it was a high-alert situation, not one single personnel could take the time to refresh themselves – meaning, there were a lot of sweaty, smelly bodies trapped there in a confined space, herself included. And on top of that, the outside air could not be circulated freely, in the fear of infiltration by the trio of escaped Supers by the opened air ducts so, the terrible, smelly air could only become fouler as the hours ticked on.

Things became incomparably tenser still when the news of the trio attacking and then abducting a civilian reached the command center set up within the underground base. General Williams ordered for the doubling of the security measures, thinking that an attack was imminent – only for the things to go quiet. Not a peep from the three escaped Supers, not a trace of where they had gone off to. They had vanished into the thin air.

And then, the massacre of JFK made things much more complicated, timing-wise. The talks of deploying the combat-ready Dead Kings agents, called the Knights, went back and forth between Washington and the command center until finally, the green light was given.

Meanwhile, all nonessential personnel was finally allowed to leave. Made sense, seeing that most of them would be no good in a fight anyway. Min-jung was also given the okay to go home, provided that she stay in touch in case of an emergency, according to Major Podolsky.

Min-jung thought Major's gazes were rather sharp, as if she was under an intense scrutiny as to her strange nervousness, especially so after she had gone out for a breather and receiving all those messages from her daughter. This was right after General Williams decided to relax the lockdown slightly. The suspicions in Major's eyes were palpable, but since Min-jung brushed off the questions to her state of mind with a resolute “I'm fine” no one pursued the matter anymore.

In truth, Min-jung was deeply nervous of being found out that it was her son that was abducted by the trio of escaped Supers, but bizarrely enough, this crucial information seemed to have been lost in transit for some reason. She suspected that Mylorne Akkad had something to do with it but she had no proof of that.

The salient issue here was, though, General Williams nor Major Podolsky nor Professor Evans, nor the rest of the team, must never become aware of what Jack was. What Min-jung did was enough to get her thrown in a jail for a long time, never mind her son's own life becoming a ruined shell of what it once was. She would never allow that. Not in this lifetime.

Min-jung made her way home, mentally and physically spent, welcomed by the worried faces of Bob and Dana. But there was no time to relax for her.

Bob was adamant that he was going with her to find Jack but then, who'd look after Dana in the meantime? A short discussion, a heated one at that, ensued, and Min-jung won the debate this time. Bob had to stay and wait for the news.

That sorted, Min-jung then made a quick inquiry and found most of what she needed to know; that her son and a girl from the same school went for a biking trip to the nearby park, only to run into a convenience store robbery on their way back.

The store clerk got shot, but otherwise, the children were fine. A Super named Alpha Man was called to the scene, and after Jack and his friend's statements were taken, the two were heading home with the friend's father driving them.

Then, the three Supers appeared, assaulted them, and the end result was that Jack willingly went with them in order to stop the rampage. In other words, the three of them came specifically to find her son.

If that didn't smell of conspiracy cooked up by Mylorne Akkad, then she didn't know what it was.

All these information, courtesy of Taylor Finn, whom Min-jung tracked down via the phone number. It was surprising to see the teen willing to spill everything out, but it was massively helpful in deducting the current situation more clearly.

Even more surprising, was the revelation that, indeed, her son had manifested his abilities. Taylor described to the best of her vocabulary but frankly, it was simply beyond her imagination. An ability to endlessly grow, as long as there was a steady supply of this so-called red soul which no one could see except him?

If true, then it was totally understandable why Akkad would be interested in such a power. Min-jung could see the value in researching the genetics of such a Super, and perhaps even find out what those red souls were supposed to be, going so far as to figure out a way to commercialize them. It'd be an incredible way to make money. No, acquiring a licence to print money would be more accurate description at this point.

No wonder the man was so damn obsessed with all this Gilgamesh related topics. He must have found something, a clue, regarding the powers of the ancient God-King somewhere. Otherwise, why would he sponsor Min-jung all those years ago and invest millions and millions in helping her finally conceive a child?

Remembering those days, she felt her heart ache deeply. She had made a mistake in relying on Mylorne Akkad. She was sure of that. Too late for regrets now.

“Look, Taylor. Thanks for all the help, but from here on, I must to this alone. I want you to stay in the car and if something bad happens, you must run away. Okay?”

Min-jung turned to Taylor and spoke in no uncertain tone. She was already starting the car, to steer it towards one of the gates here.

“That's not going to work, Missus Mercer. I mean, where could I possibly run off to, in the first place? I can't drive, you know. And look how wide this area is!! Plus, I've come this far. I need to see the whole thing to the end. I made a promise with Jack. I plan to keep it.”

“That won't do,” Min-jung shook her head. “I've already asked you to do too much. This is getting a lot more dangerous than you think it is. Mylorne Akkad is a very unpredictable and dangerous man – it's best that he never becomes aware of your powers, Taylor. Trust me, he's a bad person.”

“But it's too late to turn around now, isn't it?”

“True, but still, there is no need for you to get involved any deeper than already is. Oh, right. Get in the back seat and hide down there in the footwell before we get to the entrance. There should be cameras recording the faces of all the visitors who come here. You should avoid getting captured if you can help it.”

Taylor groaned softly but didn't voice out her current feelings. Min-jung stopped the car so the girl could get out of the front passenger seat, then climb into the back and crawl into the rear footwell, thereby remaining hidden that way from the CCTV cameras' point of view.

But that was all for naught – because as Taylor climbed out of the car, she suddenly raised her head towards the skies above the white tower and shouted.

“Oh, really now? What the hell?!”

Following that outcry, even Min-jung was drawn to the source of the girl's ire. And she saw a futuristic white aircraft with an unusual design lifting off vertically from the roof of the tower. Even at a distance, she recognized the craft, thanks to its unique, eye-catching shape.

It belonged to Mylorne Akkad, his private mode of transport and designed by his own hands to be the most advanced and awe-inspiring as possible.

Min-jung had this inexplicable feeling that she was one step too late, seeing that craft fly away. She hurriedly asked Taylor, hoping against her surging fear.

“What was that about, Taylor? Who was in that aircraft?”

Taylor made a grim face before sighing with a sagging shoulder.

“I sensed Jack in that thing. He's gone now.”

~

Jack was grimly staring outside the reinforced glass but failed to notice his mother's car on the ground. He was sitting on the other side of the craft, after all. As for the other passengers – Erik, Lei, and Cleo – they were too tense to pay a heed to what was out there observing them taking off.

Akkad was in the pilot's seat, commandeering the craft as if this was an everyday thing for him, flying in the hot seat.

The plan was simple, for now. Mylorne Akkad would take the trio of Supers to a nearby airstrip where he'd give them a flight to New York in one of his other unmarked private planes. Meanwhile, Jack would head off to somewhere else, where he could ostensibly get stronger quickly. Then maybe, join up later before things get really bad.

The method of that quick power up was not disclosed immediately, however, leaving the quartet of teens in the dark. Jack recalled the fact that Akkad did promise him a way to procure more of that red souls the night before so it had to be in relation to that.

There were glum faces all around, especially that of Erik. His frown was bitter and deep as if he was carrying the weight of the entire world's guilt over his slender shoulders. But there was a resolute glint trapped within his eyes - as if he had made a vow in secret.

Jack took a long look at each and everyone present here. Lei was Lei, still gazing at the battered iPod, showing an intense concentration. Cleo was nervously chewing her fingernails, mumbling softly to no one in particular. “Can't we go faster?!” It was obvious she was chomping at the bits, wanting to get there even if it was a minute sooner. Jack thought it'd be useless to talk to her when she was like that.

And seeing the intense frown on Erik's face, it wasn't a good idea to talk to him either. So Jack fixed his gaze on Lei and tapped on her shoulder.

“Hey, so, uh, what'll you three do when you get there?”

Lei shrugged her shoulders. “First, we go and find Cleo's family. I did a quick search, and they are still living in the same place, so that's that. Then secondly, we'll probably try to join up with the others or depending on the situation, run.”

She then showed the screen of her iPod to Jack,

“Look, this is the map of New York, and the search area is superimposed on it. Here's where Cleo's parents are.”

It was true; the screen that should only show a limited amount of color and pixels were showing a full, modern 3D map of New York from the bird's eye, and Jack could see clearly the green boundaries laid over it. There was a small red dot over the Queens, blinking softly. Jack tilted his head slightly, thinking that this iPod was not ordinary after all.

She noticed the confusion on Jack's face so she moved to clarify that.

“I've done some modification on it. It was getting old and busted, so...”

“Oh, okay,” said Jack. “You could've gotten a new iPod or whatever, though. Wouldn't it be simpler that way?”

She shrugged her shoulders again.

“Well, I like this shape. Plus, it was a gift from my mom.”

Jack suddenly felt like he had stepped on a landmine. He needed to be tactful here.

“Oh, that's why. Okay. I understand. Hopefully, your parents aren't in New York, though.”

Lei pursed her lips and took the iPod back.

“No. They are all dead. A car crash.”

Oh crap, now you've done it, Jack Mercer!! Jack cried out in his heart. Instead of expertly extricating himself out of a tricky situation, he got mired even deeper. Now there was an even thicker layer of awkwardness permeating in the air, at least from Jack's point of view.

Worse still, because they were communicating via headphones, others could hear the conversation in full, all in its glory. Cleo and Erik shot Jack very weird gazes, obviously admonishing him for his faux pas.

Unable to think of a way to salvage the mood, Jack sighed and kept his mouth shut for the remainder of the journey.

About ten minutes later, the aircraft was approaching the local airfield. Mylorne landed the craft on an empty, designated spot next to a large hangar.

“We're here, guys.”

Akkad told his passengers, prompting them to disembark. Out in front of the hangar, a man wearing a pilot's uniform and a couple of stewardesses were waiting for them. Mylorne greeted them and introduced his group to the other. It was all done in a rush as the time itself was in short supply.

As the six of them got on a private jet, Jack hesitated slightly before catching up to Lei, Erik, and Cleo. “Hey, you be careful, alright? If it gets dangerous, just bale out, okay? And, uh, I'm sorry about earlier, Lei.”

Cleo and Lei nodded together in appreciation but Erik snorted. “Well, that goes without saying. Although, I'm surprised to find that we've become pretty close so quickly, Jack.”

With that, they left the airfield, headed to New York. As for Jack and Mylorne, they got back on the futuristic craft and also took off towards their destination, the craft making a whooshing noise on take-off from its twin encased rotors on the sides.

“Now that we're by ourselves, can you tell me just where we are headed off to?”

Jack asked as he settled down on the co-pilot's seat. The view out was extremely cool but he was in no mood to enjoy it.

“The Rockies. There is a certain artifact hidden from the world for almost the entirety of the written history that you need to see for yourself. I've long secured it but alas, couldn't move it to a more convenient place in time. The technology for such an undertaking has not caught up to where I'd like it to be, unfortunately.”

“Will that artifact make me stronger, somehow? Help me gather more of that red soul thingy?”

“Definitely, yes. But before we arrive, there is something else you need to start training on, first.”

Jack frowned slightly, not understanding Akkad's words.

“What is it that I need to start on first?”

“Gilgamesh once told me this – that when he was young, he could only interact with red souls when he was within the Soul Sphere while asleep. Only through constant training and experimentation did he find a way to manipulate the souls without entering the Sphere. Tell me, Jack. Can you interact with the souls as you are right now?”

Jack tried to hide his surprise as well as he could, but still, he couldn't find a way to refute the fact that Mylorne Akkad was indeed really Utnapishtim from his memories. How else would he know things like this? He told no one, besides Taylor. And he was pretty sure she had no relation with this guy.

“No, I can't. So that red place is called the Soul Sphere, huh. Didn't even know that. Or should that be I couldn't even remember that?”

“Well, whatever the case may be, what you need to do is to consciously control red souls without entering the Soul Sphere first. Making a tangible progress in that task should take the foremost priority for you.”

Jack leaned back in his seat, contemplating. He was happy to hear that he could 'improve' his stats without going to sleep. Now that would be a massive help. But he was at a loss to where to even begin.

“How should I start doing that? Is there some kind of secret that I need to know? What am I missing?”

Akkad put the autopilot on and stroked his chin in a contemplating manner.

“Hmm. Gilgamesh never explained the process to me – we met when he was already a renowned warrior under the heavens, in full control of all his abilities. So the topic was never discussed in detail. But if I were allowed to make one conjecture, then perhaps you need to train your own soul, somehow. That could very well be the key.”

“How do I do that?!”

Jack frowned. He didn't quite get it. What was a soul, anyway? He was never a spiritually-minded person to begin with, nor was he really all that religious, so he had no idea. All he could think of was that a soul was something that turned into a vengeful ghost when a person died under the suspicious circumstances, just like how it was in a horror movie. Obviously, that wasn't a great reference to begin with. His base of knowledge was too threadbare to be of any help.

Then a lightbulb lit atop his head. Not literally, of course.

Hey, wait a sec. Maybe... yeah, just maybe I could enhance my soul or whatever with the remaining red souls inside the Soul Sphere. With that strengthened, then I wouldn't need to access Sphere anymore.Yeah, that might work.

Jack nodded as he decided on what to do. Whether it'd work or not, he had no idea, but it was worth a try nonetheless. In order to access the Sphere, he had to go to sleep right now. Might as well, since there was still some time left before arriving at their destination somewhere in the state of Montana. The problem was that it was still early in the day, and he was not at all sleepy.

Damn it, this isn't going to work, is it?

Jack groaned inwardly after trying to fall asleep for a few minutes in the co-pilot's seat. Akkad noticed the boy's troubles and asked.

“Is there a problem, Mister Mercer? You seem to have found yourself in a jam of sorts.”

“Yeah, well. I'm kinda in a bind.”

Jack then explained his situation and his idea. Akkad listened attentively and when Jack was done, he offered up an assistance.

“We should have suitable medication in the place we are going to. Let us try your method when we get there.”

~

Meanwhile, somewhere in New York....

A Latin man in his early thirties wearing a pair of thin, stylish glasses and sitting in a wheelchair was busy typing on a wireless keyboard, his eyes darting between half a dozen monitors mounted on a brick wall.

Half of those monitors showed the maps of the five boroughs of the city, while the other half, things such as constant reports and updates made by the federal agents and Guild of Heroes members were shown.

The wheelchair-bound man's inputs were shown on the middle screen. He was creating a new algorithm on the fly to isolate a new term he hadn't yet come across before.

“What is this Project Dead Kings....? What kind of secrets have you been keeping away from the world, Mister President, eh?”

The room was shrouded in darkness, the only light source the screens and a lit desktop lamp above a simple notepad.

He was so absorbed in his work that he had failed to notice a new presence silently slipping in through the shadows.

It was the same masked man from the night before when Nico Gavalas took the dagger away from him. He still had that indiscernible aura of darkness blanketing him, shielding him from the light.

“Hey, Ramirez.”

The masked vigilante called out softly.

Startled, Ramirez the wheelchair-bound man nearly dropped his wireless keyboard on the floor.

“Jesus Christ on meth, didn't I tell you never to do that?!”

“You were too deep into whatever you were doing. But my apologies.”

The masked man walked in closer, his eyes surveying the screens showing the map of the city.

“What are you doing here at this time of the day, Abyss? You usually operate during the nighttime.”

“A special case. I ran into an unwelcome visitor and couldn't pry out the information in the end. Can you help me with that? Also, there's something else just as urgent – maybe, even more so.”

Ramirez fixed the position of the thin glass. “Is that right? Sounds like something big has happened to you. I doubt that it's as big as what had happened in JFK, though.”

“Yeah, I heard about that on my over here. I also hear a crowd has shown up to deal with the mess.” The masked vigilante, Abyss, chuckled without mirth.

“It's a serious thing. No one has an accurate count but it seems like thousands of people died within minutes, so yeah, it's a big deal right now. But well, I guess the crowd will take care of it, right?”

“Right. Let's focus on the girl first. Max was seen talking to a Serbian expat named Wilhelm Milosevic dealing in trafficking underage girls overseas. It's just a hunch, but check into the man's records. He owns a shipping company if I remember correctly. Maybe he owns a warehouse somewhere.”

“Got it.”

Ramirez clicked on the mouse and one of the screen changed, showing an almost-blank one. Here, he typed certain parameters to bring out a list of the federal company registry. It went without saying, this was hacking.

While that was being done, Abyss glanced over at other screens and caught the sight of the words “Project Dead Kings.”

“What's this?”

Abyss pointed at the screen and asked.

“That? Oh, it's just something I found interesting. One of the crowds coming over to the city is called the Knights of the Dead Kings. Never heard of them before, so I was trying to dig up some more dirt on them.”

“And? Anything to worry about?”

“So far.... well, it's a DoD-funded project. The clearance level required to access even the most basic data is pretty ridiculous, too. So I was in the middle of crafting a new baby of mine to sneak in but then you showed up.”

Abyss shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

“My bad. So, you know nothing about them?”

“Well, as far as I can tell, they will be working completely on their own, not coordinating with anyone or any other agencies. Hell, I don't think those goody two shoes in the Guild of Heroes know about them coming to rain on their parade either. Which is funny, in its own way, right?

“Anyway, all I could find out from the chatter is that they are an elite force built up to deal with threats like the one from the JFK incident.”

Abyss nodded, slightly losing his interest. His mind was preoccupied with the case of the missing girl as well as the fate of the dagger. Since he had an obligation to find the girl first, he'd see the matter to the finish line then move on to dealing with the mysterious Super who came to steal that cursed dagger.

Ramirez continued on. “You thinking of doing something about the perp responsible for JFK?”

Abyss shook his head. “No. I work in the dark, while matters like that need men in the light.”

“Well, didn't hurt to ask. Oh, here. Milosevic's indeed got himself a warehouse. Here are the GPS coordinates. Wanna take a look?”

Abyss nodded and leaned in closer. “Bring it up. Let's see the lay of the land.”

The screen's image changed from the list and to that of a security camera footage showing an innocuous building near the docks. But there was a little, if any, activity showing up on screen. But there were expensive cars parked out front, and one or two well-armed Eastern European men walking around, looking alert.

“What about the interior? Can you gain an access?” asked Abyss as he studied the building.

“No can do. Looks like no cameras. And the military satellites capable of peering through are all being used by, well, the military, so I can't even borrow one at the moment.” Ramirez sighed helplessly.

“Hmm.”

Abyss was unsatisfied, but he had no choice. He decided to go in and see if the girl was in there. He was about to ask for Ramirez's help in finding the Super next when his eyes caught something strange, and perhaps shocking, on the screen.

“Someone is coming,” said Ramirez as he also spotted it. A man was approaching the warehouse while frequently checking an item in his hand. This person didn't seem like one of the thugs hired to guard the place, as he was lugging around a heavy-looking gym bag over his shoulder.

Ramirez frowned as he thought that this guy looked kind of familiar. Abyss was thinking that the bastard he was looking for was right there, in front of him. Was this fate?

“Hey, Ramirez, this feed is in real time, right?”

“Yeah, it is. I've hacked into security set up by the docks. All feeds are in real time. But that guy.... I've seen him before..... No, wait a freaking minute here. That guy can't be.... right?”

Abyss was taken back when he heard that. “You know that man? How?”

“No, I don't know him, per se, but I've seen him. From here. Check it out. Because you ain't going to believe your eyes, dude.”

One of the screens then blacked out for a second, before showing a grainy footage of an interior of a building. On a closer inspection, it was from an airport. More accurately, that of JFK, minutes before the massacre.

The quality of the recording was not as precise as what Akkad had shown to his guests but it was pretty good nevertheless, affording a clear image of the man responsible for all that death.

It was at this moment Abyss sucked in his breath and swore loudly.

“Son of a bi*ch.”

Here's new chapter. Looks like I can maintain a constant release schedule of a chapter every Tuesday and Friday. Not sure how long I can keep this up, though. Here's hoping.

Edit (24th June):

Chapter 15: The Conceit

“Are you 100% sure that Jack is in there?”

Min-jung's voice was strained slightly as she asked Taylor sitting next to her in the SUV.

The two of them peered over the electrified fence and at the tall white tower that stretched its way into the heavens. The view as seen past the car's windshield was passable. The car itself was parked off the slightly beaten path and on a grassland surrounded by thick enough vegetation which, coincidentally, hid the bulky body of Min-jung's vehicle. At least that's what she hoped for, anyways.

Taylor stiffly nodded, her eyes were bloodshot and the complexion rather pale, having exerted a lot of effort in using her powers just now. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath while leaning back on her seat.

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure Jack's inside. It's hard to sense his life signature because of the distance and the weird material of the tower but he's definitely in there. I felt him.”

Taylor replied slowly before opening her eyes. There was a spark of determination burning in her eyes, the fire lit from the desire to keep the promise she made the day before.

She had to focus her powers to the utmost narrowest possible range in order to increase the detection distance and was able to barely grasp Jack's unique life signature within the tower, despite the obstructions in her way. As feared, the deed took a lot out of her. It was at times like these she really hated the limitations imposed on her powers. If she was just a bit stronger, then she'd be more of a help... But she got the result, so on that point alone, she was feeling good about it.

Min-jung looked on at the tower's imposing figure, her expression remaining gravely cold. Her worst fears were now confirmed – her son was indeed in the grips of the crazed man. No, that wasn't quite correct; Mylorne Akkad was not crazed but obsessed, instead.

Obsessed over the legends of Gilgamesh, obsessed over the resurrection of the Lord of Darkness, obsessed over the matters of her son's growth and perhaps, obsessed over the matters of fatality and immortality. Compared to all of those obsessions, his desire to make money seemed like a hobby practiced every now and then so he could have something to stave off the encroaching boredom between his more intense undertakings.

However, things had taken a turn, rather dramatically, for the worse. Mylorne Akkad somehow had conspired his way into attaining the very thing, her son, that he was so obsessed over. Who could possibly tell what he'd do now, with almost all the chess pieces gathered in front of him?

But one thing was sure; Min-jung had no doubt what needed to be done. The final confirmation this young Super provided was enough.

She had to move right now and save her child from the madness of Mylorne Akkad, before Jack was irreversibly affected by the silky, sophisticated but still potent poison. For that purpose, she even brought along the handgun for it.

She bought this gun secretly, meaning illegally, unbeknownst even to her husband. No one knew that she obtained it. Normally, Min-jung kept it pretty well hidden but it would definitely see some action today.

Fortunately, she paid a visit to a firing range to practice wielding a firearm not too long ago. She had a handle on how to use the gun, more or less.

Back then, Min-jung was afraid that the day she needed to pull the trigger was almost upon her. Well, that day arrived with a bang.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, she walked through the steps she'd have to go through to face Mylorne Akkad. It wouldn't be easy as the billionaire must have built a series of thorough and tough security measures. But she was prepared to do just about anything to get her son back safe and sound, and nothing was going to stand in her way.

“So, what now, Mrs. Mercer?”

Taylor asked softly.

Min-jung snapped out of her grim thoughts and turned to look at the teen. Then she realized there was a problem here. And that problem was Taylor. Or, more correctly, her presence here, with her, right this moment.

Min-jung was unwilling to have the teen girl become an accessory if something untoward happened between Akkad and her gun. It was because she couldn't guarantee the two of them finding a peaceful resolution to their strong disagreement.

It was Taylor who offered her services voluntarily. She wanted to locate and rescue Jack as much as she did. But that didn't mean Min-jung would let the girl cross a certain line that shouldn't be crossed, no matter what. Also didn't matter how willing she was, either.

But what options did Min-jung have, right now?

Take Taylor back home, and waste more time that way when she didn't have much, to begin with?

Well, things wouldn't have been delayed like this, if she wasn't trapped in that godawful underground military base for hours and hours in the end. What an ordeal that proved to be, what with everyone inside that base running around absolutely everywhere like a flock of headless chickens, further adding to the high level of uncertainty and confusion there already were mired in.

And since it was a high-alert situation, not one single personnel could take the time to refresh themselves. Meaning, there were a lot of sweaty, smelly bodies trapped in a relatively confined space, Min-jung included. On top of that, the outside air could not be circulated freely, due to the fear of infiltration by the trio of escaped Supers by the opened air ducts so, the terrible, smelly air could only become fouler as the hours ticked on.

Things became incomparably tenser still when the news of the trio attacking and then abducting a civilian reached the command center set up within the underground base. General Williams ordered for the doubling of the security measures, thinking that an attack was imminent – only for the things to go quiet. Not a peep from the three escaped Supers, not a trace of where they had gone off to. They had vanished into the thin air.

And then, the belated arrival of the news regarding the horrible massacre at the JFK airport made things much more complicated, timing-wise. The talks of deploying the combat-ready Dead Kings operatives went back and forth between Washington and the command center until finally, the green light was given.

Meanwhile, the common sense prevailed and all the nonessential personnel was finally allowed to leave. This was only after the threat of three escaped Supers attacking the underground base subsided a great deal. Of course, Min-jung vociferously campaigned for it, arguing that she and the others like her would be no good in a fight anyway.

So, she got the okay to go home, provided that she stay in touch in case of an emergency, according to Major Podolsky's stern words.

Min-jung thought Major's gazes were rather sharp, making her think that she was under an intense scrutiny for her strange nervousness. Nothing went by unnoticed in Major's observation, it seemed.

Min-jung did her best to hide her frenetic mind after receiving the call from her daughter, Dana, of Jack's abduction but something must have shown on the surface. The suspicions in Major's eyes were barely masked, but since Min-jung brushed off the questions to her state of mind with a resolute “I'm fine,” no one chose to pursue the matter anymore, what with bigger matters that needed more urgent attention and all.

Even now, sitting here in the car, Min-jung couldn't quite understand how General Williams nor Major Podolsky failed to learn that her son was the victim of the kidnapping. If they found out, then the consequences would have been catastrophic.

So how did this crucial information fall through the cracks, seemingly lost in transit from one agency to the next one? Maybe Mylorne Akkad had something to do with it, but she had no proof. She could only suspect him.

Whatever, General Williams nor Major Podolsky, not even Professor Evans or the rest of the team, must never become aware of what Jack was. What Min-jung did was enough to get her thrown in a jail for a long time, never mind her son's own life becoming a total wreck.

She would never allow that. Not in this lifetime.

After leaving the base, things moved pretty quickly. Min-jung made her way home, mentally and physically exhausted, welcomed by the worried faces of Bob and Dana. Of course, there was no time to relax.

Bob was adamant that he was going with her to find Jack but then, the question of who'd look after Dana in the meantime arose. A short discussion, a heated one at that, ensued between the two, and Min-jung won the debate in the end. Bob had to stay and wait for the news.

With that solved, Min-jung then made a quick inquiry and found most of what she needed to know; that her son and a girl from the same school went for a biking trip to the nearby park, only to run into a convenience store robbery on their way back.

The store clerk got shot, but otherwise, the children were fine. A Super named Alpha Man was called to the scene, and after Jack and his friend's statements were taken, the two were heading home with the friend's father driving them.

Then, the three Supers appeared, assaulted them, and the end result was that Jack willingly went with them in order to stop the rampage. In other words, the three of them came specifically to find her son.

If that didn't smell of conspiracy cooked up by Mylorne Akkad, then she didn't know what it was.

All these information, courtesy of Taylor Finn. The teen willingly spilled everything out. And it was massively helpful in deducting the current situation more clearly.

Taylor's testimonial was also greatly helpful in deducing the reason for the kidnapping – her son had manifested his abilities. Taylor described, to the best of her vocabulary but frankly, it was simply beyond Min-jung's expectations.

An ability to endlessly grow, as long as there was a steady supply of this so-called red soul which no one could see but him? If true, then it was totally understandable why Akkad would be interested in such a power. Min-jung could see the value in researching the genetics of such a Super, and perhaps even find out what those red souls were supposed to be, going so far as to figure out a way to commercialize them. It'd be an incredible way to make money. No, it'd be akin to a license to print money.

No wonder the man was so damn obsessed with all this Gilgamesh related topics. He must have found something, a clue, regarding the powers of the ancient God-King somewhere. Otherwise, why would he tempt Min-jung all those years ago and end up investing millions upon millions to helping her conceive a child?

Remembering those days, she felt her heart ache deeply. She had made a mistake in relying on Mylorne Akkad. She was sure of that. Too late for regrets now, though.

“Look, Taylor. Thank you for all your help, but from here on, I must to this alone. I want you to stay in the car and if something bad happens, you must run away. Okay?”

Min-jung spoke to Taylor in no uncertain tone. She was already starting the car, to steer it towards one of the gates here.

“That's not going to work, Mrs. Mercer. I mean, where could I possibly run off to, in the first place? I can't drive, you know. And look how hugely wide this compound is!!

“Plus, I've come this far. I need to see the whole thing to the end. I made a promise with Jack. I plan to keep it.”

“That won't do,” Min-jung shook her head. “I've already asked you to do too much. This is getting a lot more dangerous than you think it is. Mylorne Akkad is an unpredictable and very dangerous man. It's best that he never becomes aware of you and your powers, Taylor. Trust me, he's a bad person.”

“But it's too late to turn around now, isn't it?”

“True, but still, there is no need for you to get involved any deeper than already is. Oh, right. Get in the back seat and hide down there in the footwell before we get to the entrance. There should be cameras recording the faces of all who visit this place. You should avoid getting captured if you can help it.”

Taylor groaned softly but didn't voice out her current feelings. Min-jung stopped the car so the girl could get out of the front passenger seat, then climb into the back and crawl into the rear footwell, thereby remaining hidden from the CCTV cameras' point of view.

But that was all for naught – because as soon as Taylor climbed out of the car, she suddenly raised her head towards the skies above the white tower and shouted angrily.

“Oh, really now? What the hell?!”

Following that outcry, Min-jung was drawn to the source of the girl's ire. And she saw a futuristic white aircraft with an unusual design lifting off vertically from the roof of the tower. Even at a distance, she recognized the craft, thanks to its unique, eye-catching shape.

It belonged to Mylorne Akkad, his private mode of transport and designed by his own hands to be the most advanced, awe-inspiring and memorable as possible. It certainly achieved this brief quite easily.

Min-jung had this inexplicable feeling that she was being conceited until now, especially after witnessing that craft fly away from the tower. She hurriedly asked Taylor, hoping against her surging tide of trepidation.

“What was that about, Taylor? Who was in that aircraft?”

Taylor made a grim face before sighing with a sagging shoulder.

“I sensed Jack riding in that thing. He's gone now. We're too late.”

~

Jack was staring outside the reinforced glass of the aircraft but failed to notice his mother's car on the ground. He was sitting on the other side of the craft, after all. As for the other passengers – Erik, Lei, and Cleo – they were too tense to pay heed to what was out there observing them take off.

Mylorne Akkad was in the pilot's seat, commandeering the craft like this was an everyday thing for him, flying in the hot seat. No one sat shotgun, though.

After Jack's explosive burst in the dining room, their plans were quickly set in stone. The aircraft would take them to a nearby airfield where a separate plane would take Erik and his gang to New York.

Meanwhile, Jack would head off to somewhere else, where he could, ostensibly. get stronger quickly. Then maybe, join up later before things get really bad.

Jack found it funny in a not-funny way that neither Erik nor Lei asked aloud how anyone could get “stronger” in such a short period of time. Might as well, since he didn't know where to begin the explanation anyway. And besides, Mylorne Akkad withheld the method of that quick power up even to him, other than a passing remark that the process might get dangerous, so Jack was in the dark just as much as the others were.

There was only one way to make Jack stronger, though, and Akkad did promise to aid him the night before, so Jack had to sit tight and do as told, for now.

But it was still hard to figure out how he got roped into this.

Sure, he did say that guy with the golden skull needed to be stopped, but he never said he'd be the one to do it. So how the hell did he get talked into becoming stronger, for the sake of stopping that augmented Super from abroad? He could recall the basic flow of the conversation but to point out the exact moment where he ended up volunteering his abilities, he was at a complete loss.

The harder he thought about it, it became clear that Mylorne Akkad had steered the conversation towards that conclusion. Jack felt like he got suckered into doing something against his personality.

Oh, well. Okay, let's look at the positives. Being stronger is all good and stuff, since I still want to kill Falcon and Master Evil. Yeah, that is what I wanted from the beginning. But, uh....

Jack was not a warrior; that much, he knew better than anyone. Didn't matter what his origin was, as his upbringing taught him to think twice about hitting someone. His troubles at finishing off a coyote was a proof enough. And now, he was supposed to go up against a genocidal Super that could turn people into sandbags?

Could he even win? Mylorne Akkad believed so, but was Jack conceited enough to believe that notion?

En-men-lu-ana was a fearsome monster, a detestable villain of the highest caliber. The recollected memories from his dreams were fragmented at best but as far as Jack knew, this En-men-lu-ana character would have no qualms about slaying an entire city full of innocent people if such an act took his fancy.

And as usual, when it rained, it poured. So was the case with En-men-lu-ana, as he was an immortal just like Mylorne Akkad. No, he had surpassed being a mere immortal. Oh no.

He had half-stepped into the path of the so-called divinity back in Gilgamesh's era, having lived thousands of years before the founding of the city of Uruk, the God-King's nation.

The details were hazy, but Gilgamesh fought against En-men-lu-ana and barely won back in the day. Why did they fight? Jack had no idea, but the enmity between the two was as real and serious as it could possibly get.

Instead of getting his ass killed in that battle, En-men-lu-ana was imprisoned deep within the depths of the earth by Gilgamesh. A perk of being an Immortal was apparently being as hard to kill as a cockroach, it seemed.

Now, En-men-lu-ana's vassal, carrying his actual golden skull, had shown up in the modern world, somehow. Exactly at the same time as Gilgamesh's revival too. A coincidence, or something infinitely more sinister at play? And just what did En-men-lu-ana want in New York?

No one had any answers, not even someone as well informed and experienced as Mylorne Akkad. Whatever turmoil the future held, at least Cleo knew what she wanted and she was resolutely heading towards it.

And technically speaking, Jack was the only one alive who knew how to defeat En-men-lu-ana. The argument was that he had to be there. Unfortunately, even Akkad didn't know how Gilgamesh defeated and imprisoned the Mad King “underground.”

But by getting stronger, the belief was that he'd be able to remember. A long shot, as long as they came, but Jack had no rebuttal.

Before all that, Jack had to be stronger. Stronger than Cleo was, at any rate. A tall order, if there ever was. He wanted to ask just whose genes she was augmented with, but as she herself was unaware of her origins, it'd be a stretch to imagine getting a satisfactory answer from her.

Strange, then, to avoid telling them that Jack was not the same as the trio of teens, something Erik, Cleo and Lei were probably believing in. A misunderstanding that would remain as so.

Jack glanced at Cleo and her friends. Their glum faces were a bit hard to read, especially that of Erik. His frown was bitter and deep as if he was carrying the weight of the entire world's guilt over his slender shoulders. But there was a resolute glint trapped in his eyes, as if he had made a resolute vow in secret.

Lei was Lei, still gazing at the battered iPod, showing an intense concentration. Her fingers swiftly moved over the screen like an eagle pecking away at a dead prey.

Cleo was chewing on her fingernails. She mumbled softly to no one in particular. “Can't we go faster?!”

It was obvious she was chomping at the bits, wanting to get there even if it was a minute sooner. Jack thought it'd be useless to talk to her when she was like that.

And seeing the intense frown on Erik's face, it wasn't a good idea to talk to him either. So Jack fixed his gaze on Lei and tapped on her shoulder.

“Hey, so, uh, what'll you three do when you get there?”

Lei shrugged her shoulders. “I guess, we go and find Cleo's family. I did a quick search, and they are still living in the same place, so that's that. Then well, we'll probably try to get the hell out of Dodge.”

She then showed the screen of her iPod to Jack,

“Look, this is the map of New York, and the search area is superimposed on it. Here's where Cleo's parents are.”

It was true; the screen that should only show a limited amount of color and pixels were showing a full, modern 3D map of New York from the bird's eye view, and Jack could see clearly the green boundaries laid over it. There was a small red dot over the Queens, blinking softly. Jack tilted his head slightly, thinking that this iPod was not an ordinary item at all.

She noticed the confusion on Jack's face so she moved to clarify that.

“I've done some modification on it. It was getting old and busted, so...”

“Oh, okay,” said Jack. “You could've gotten a new iPod or whatever, though. Wouldn't it be simpler that way?”

She shrugged her shoulders again.

“Well, I like this shape. Plus, it was a gift from my mom.”

Jack suddenly got a feeling that he was stepping on a landmine. He needed to be tactful here or else, he'd be a KIA.

“Oh, that's why. Okay, I understand. Hopefully, your parents aren't in New York, though. It might get dicey later on, there.”

Lei pursed her lips and took the iPod back.

“Nope. They all died ten years ago in a car crash.”

Oh crap, now you've done it, Jack Mercer!! Jack cried out in his heart.

Instead of expertly extricating himself out of a tricky situation, he got mired in even deeper. Now there was a thick, thick layer of impenetrable awkwardness permeating in the air.

And to make matters worse, because the cabin of the craft was so quiet, others could hear the conversation in full, all in its ignominious glory. Cleo and Erik shot Jack very weird gazes, obviously admonishing him for his tactless faux pas.

Unable to think of a way to salvage the mood, Jack sighed and kept his mouth shut for the remainder of the journey.

About ten minutes later, the local airfield was finally in sight. Mylorne smoothly landed the craft on the designated spot next to a large hangar.

“We're here, guys.”

He told his passengers, prompting them to disembark via the side entrance. Out in front of the hangar, a man wearing a pilot's uniform and a couple of flight attendants were waiting for them. Behind them, a gleaming Learjet with Mylorne Akkad's company logo painted on the side.

Mylorne quickly introduced his group to the other and urged them onwards as the time itself was in short supply.

As the six of them climbed aboard the Learjet, Jack hesitated slightly before catching up to Lei, Erik, and Cleo. “Hey, you be careful, alright? If it gets dangerous, just bale out, okay? And, uh, I'm sorry about earlier, Lei.”

Cleo and Lei nodded together in appreciation but Erik snorted. “Well, that goes without saying. Although, I'm surprised to find that we've become pretty close so quickly, Jack. Thanks for the worries.”

With that, they left the airfield, heading for the city of New York. As for Jack and Mylorne, they got back on the futuristic craft and also took off towards their destination, the craft making a whooshing noise on take-off from its twin encased rotors on the sides.

“Now that we're by ourselves, can you tell me just where we are headed off to?”

Jack asked as he settled down on the co-pilot's seat. The view out was extremely cool but he was in no mood to enjoy it.

“The Rockies. There is a certain artifact that you need to see and conquer. I've long secured the site where it's been found but alas, couldn't move the artifact to a more accessible location. The technology for such an undertaking has not caught up to where I'd like it to be, unfortunately.”

“Will that artifact make me stronger? Help me gather more of that red soul thingy?”

“Definitely, yes. But before we arrive, there is something else you need to start training on, first.”

Jack frowned slightly, not understanding Akkad's words.

“What is it that I need to start on first?”

“Gilgamesh once told me this – that when he was young, he could only interact with red souls when he was within the Soul Sphere while asleep. Only through constant training and experimentation did he find a way to manipulate the souls without entering the Sphere. Tell me, Mister Mercer. Can you interact with the souls as you are, right now, without falling asleep?”

Jack shook his head. This was something he was thinking about as well. “No, I can't. So that red place is called the Soul Sphere, huh. Didn't even know that. Or should that be I couldn't even remember that?”

“Well, whatever the case may be, you need to consciously control red souls without entering the Soul Sphere first. Making a tangible progress in that task should take the foremost priority for you.”

Jack leaned back in his seat, contemplating. It'd be wonderful if he could 'improve' his stats without going to sleep. But how? There was no clue in the fragmented memories. There was nothing in the records either – not that Jack had time to thoroughly study them anyhow.

“How should I start doing that? Is there some kind of secret that I need to know? What am I missing?”

Akkad put the autopilot on and stroked his chin in a contemplating manner.

“Hmm. Gilgamesh never explained the process to me – we met when he was already a renowned warrior under the heavens, in full control of all his abilities. So the topic was never discussed in detail. But if I were allowed to make one conjecture, then perhaps you need to train your own soul, somehow. That could very well be the key.”

“How do I do that?!”

Jack frowned. He didn't quite get it. What was a soul, anyway? He was never a spiritually-minded person to begin with, nor was he really all that religious, so he had no idea. All he could think of was that a soul was something that turned into a vengeful ghost when a person died under suspicious circumstances, just like how it was in a horror movie. Obviously, that was not a great point of reference. His base of knowledge was too threadbare to be of any help.

Then a lightbulb lit atop his head. Not literally, of course.

Hey, wait a sec. Maybe... yeah, just maybe I could enhance my soul or whatever with the remaining red souls inside the Soul Sphere. That should work, right?

And with my soul strengthened that way, then there won't be a need to access the Sphere anymore. Yeah, that might work.

Jack nodded as he decided on what to do next. Whether it would work or not, he had no idea, but nevertheless, it was worth a try. In order to access the Sphere, he had to go to sleep right now. Might as well, since there was still some time left before arriving at their destination somewhere in the state of Montana. The problem was that it was still early in the day, and he was not at all sleepy.

Damn it, this isn't going to work, is it?

Jack groaned inwardly after trying to fall asleep for a few minutes in the co-pilot's seat. Akkad noticed the boy's troubles and asked.

“Is there a problem, Mister Mercer? You seem to have found yourself in a jam of sorts.”

“Yeah, well. I'm kinda in a bind.”

Jack then explained his situation and his idea. Akkad listened attentively and when Jack was done, he offered up an assistance.

“We should have suitable medication in the place we are going to. Let us try your method when we get there.”

~

Meanwhile, somewhere in East New York....

A Latin man in his early thirties wearing a pair of thin, stylish glasses and sitting in a black wheelchair was busy typing on a wireless keyboard, his eyes darting between half a dozen monitors mounted on a brick wall.

Half of those monitors showed the maps of the five boroughs of the city, while the other half, things such as constant reports and updates made by the federal agents and Guild of Heroes members continued to flash by.

The wheelchair-bound man's inputs were shown on the middle screen. He was creating a new algorithm on the fly to find out more info on the new term he had come across just now.

“What is this Project Dead Kings....? What kind of secrets have you been keeping away from the world, Mister President, eh?”

The room was shrouded in darkness, the only light source the screens and a lit desktop lamp above a simple notepad. The windows were boarded up, keeping out the prying eyes and the warmth of early morning sunlight.

He was so absorbed in his work that he had failed to notice a new presence silently slipping in through the shadows.

It was the same masked man from the night before. He still had that indiscernible aura of darkness blanketing him, shielding him from the light, oozing danger from every pore, even without the dagger that Nico Gavalas had stolen earlier.

“Hey, Ramirez.”

The masked vigilante called out softly.

Startled, Ramirez the wheelchair-bound man nearly dropped his wireless keyboard on the floor.

“Jesus Christ on meth, didn't I tell you never to do that?!”

“You were too deep into whatever you were doing. But my apologies.”

The masked man replied humorlessly and walked in closer, his eyes surveying the screens showing the map of the city.

“What are you doing here at this time of the day, Abyss? You usually operate during the nighttime.”

“A special case. I ran into an unwelcome visitor during my interrogation and couldn't prise out the information in the end. Can you help me with that? Also, that unwelcome guest took my dagger. I need to track him ASAP.”

Ramirez fixed the position of the thin glass. “Huh. Is that right? Sounds like something big has happened to you if you're willing to rush like this. But I doubt it's as big as what had happened in JFK, though.”

“Yeah, I heard about that on my over here. I also hear a crowd has shown up to deal with the mess.” The masked vigilante, Abyss, chuckled without mirth.

“It's a serious thing. No one has an accurate count but it seems like thousands of people died within minutes, so yeah, it's a big deal, alright. But well, I guess the crowd will take care of it, right?”

“Right. They will take care of that. For now, focus on the girl first. I asked around, and Max was seen talking to an Albanian expat named Wilhelm Milosevic who deals in guns and drugs. Maybe there's something, maybe not. It's just a hunch, but check into the man's records. He owns a shipping company if I remember correctly. I'm guessing that he owns a warehouse somewhere.”

“Got it.”

Ramirez clicked on the mouse and one of the screen changed, showing an almost-blank one. Here, he typed certain parameters to bring out private companies and corporations registered under IRS. It went without saying, this was hacking. And it was very much illegal in all 50 States.

While that was being done, Abyss glanced over at other screens and caught the sight of the words “Project Dead Kings.”

“What's this?”

Abyss pointed at the screen and asked.

“That? Oh, it's just something I found interesting. One of the crowds coming over to the city is from the Department of Defense, under the project title of the Dead Kings. Never heard of them before, so I was trying to dig up some dirt on them.”

“And? Anything to worry about?”

“So far.... well, other than being a very well-funded project, not much. The clearance level required to access even the most basic data is pretty ridiculous, so I was in the middle of crafting a new baby of mine to sneak in but then you showed up.”

Abyss shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

“My bad. So, you know nothing?”

“Well, looks like they won't be playing ball with other kids on the block. No other agencies seem to know they are coming, other than some real bigwigs. But you know what, those goody two shoes in the Guild of Heroes wouldn't appreciate someone unrelated to their little choir group coming in to rain on their parade so, might as well, right?

“Anyway, all I could find out from the chatter is that they are an elite force built up to deal with threats like the one from the JFK incident.”

Abyss nodded, fast losing what little interest he had.

His mind was far too occupied with the case of the girl as well as the fate of the dagger to give a crap about some military hard-asses prancing around. They do their thing, and leave him alone to do his, then he'd not get in their way. That was one of Abyss' mottos.

His priority, the obligation, was to find the girl first. He'd see the matter to the end before moving on to the mysterious Super who came to steal that accursed dagger.

Ramirez continued on. “You thinking of doing something about the perp responsible for JFK?”

Abyss shook his head. “No. I work in the dark, while matters like that need men in the light.”

“Well, didn't hurt to ask. Oh, here. Milosevic's indeed got himself a dozen warehouses or so. Here are the GPS coordinates. So, what do you wanna do? Check out all of them?”

“No, isolate the ones that are located in quiet neighborhoods with good access to sea, land and air traffic, taxes and fees all fully paid up with the feds, and the size of the warehouse around 25000 square feet.”

Ramirez typed in the new search parameters and soon got a hit.

“There's one. Hah, that narrows things down somewhat. Okay, let's see. I got a video feed. Wanna take a look?”

Abyss nodded and leaned in closer. “Bring it up. Let's check out the lay of the land.”

The screen's image changed from the list to a security camera footage showing an innocuous building near the docks. Judging by the view, the camera must have been located in an adjacent building.

There was a little, if any, activity showing up on screen. But there were expensive cars parked out front, and one or two well-armed Eastern European men walking around, looking alert.

“What about the interior? Can you gain an access?” asked Abyss as he studied the building.

“No can do. Looks like no cameras. And the military satellites capable of peering through the ceiling are all being used by, well, the military, so I can't even borrow one at the moment.” Ramirez sighed helplessly.

“Hmm.”

Abyss was unsatisfied, but he had no choice. He decided to go there and see if the girl was inside this warehouse. Again, he was operating only on his gut feelings, but they usually proved useful.

He was about to ask for Ramirez's help in finding the dagger-stealing Super next when his eyes caught something strange, and perhaps shocking, on the screen.

“Someone is coming,” said Ramirez as he also spotted it. A man was approaching the warehouse while frequently checking an item in his hand. This person didn't seem like one of the thugs hired to guard the place, as he was lugging around a heavy-looking gym bag over his shoulder.

Ramirez frowned as he thought that this guy looked kind of familiar. Abyss was thinking that the bastard he was looking for was right there, in front of him. Was this fate?

“Hey, Ramirez, this feed is in real time, right?”

“Yeah, it is. But that guy.... I've seen him before..... No, wait a freaking minute. That guy can't be.... right?”

Abyss was taken back when he heard that. “You know that man? How?”

“No, I don't know him, per se, but I've seen him. From here. Check it out. Because you ain't going to believe your eyes, dude.”

One of the screens then blacked out for a second, before showing a grainy footage of an interior of a building. On a closer inspection, it was from an airport. More accurately, that of JFK, minutes before the massacre.

The quality of the recording was not as precise as what Akkad had shown to his guests but it was pretty good nevertheless, affording a clear enough image of the man responsible for all that death.

It was at this moment Abyss sucked in his breath and swore loudly.

“Son of a bi*ch.”

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