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Chapter XVI

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Chapter XVI - Unfeeling

‘Clash of Champions’.

Those were words that were emblazoned above the entryways to Sunrise Stadium in glorious gold against a field of black with intricate white filigrees around the edges of the banners. Huge banners displaying profiles of some of the most renowned contestants were on display, billowing in the pleasant spring breeze. The lines leading to the stadium that faced the east overflowed into the parking lot. The skies were already filled with arriving heroes capable of flight or private helicopters carrying VIPs. News outlets had their own vehicles and drones hovering overhead eager to catch a snapshot of the first ever contest between supers held in West California Island. News had reached the ears of other superhero teams on the west coast and the roster of competitors had expanded. Sadly, no Outsiders had joined apart from Arsenal. Despite all outreach since Arsenal was brought into the spotlight, Outsiders were still not a mainstream force.

Of course that would all change today with one particular group standing against a wave of supers. Regardless of whether or not they won or made any headway in the competition, it was sure to show that Outsiders were not just some oddity or mistake. They were a force in the world and deserved to be represented.

Though Caleb had to wonder just how ‘well-represented’ Outsiders really were. Amongst Arsenal, the only true Outsiders left were himself and Elliot. Bren was never an Outsider, Lars and Ben were supers and Mary had been infected with so many strains from the Legion of Pain that she might as well be a super herself. Elliot wasn’t going to fight out in the field either.

But he wasn’t going to let that get him down. Today, was meant to be a show of unity against Vernon Washington and the Gene Stealers.

“Oh man!” Gerard exclaimed, pumping a fist into the air. Most of the Raptors had made it to the tournament with only a few declining to attend especially after the previous night’s, nail-biting championship. “I am so stoked for this! Blackout and Highlight are going to be here!”

Caleb lifted an eyebrow as he and the rest of the team shuffled forward slightly with the line. Thankfully, David and the tournament organisers had anticipated long lines so there were plenty of staff out in the ticketing booths. Apparently, the Elemental Alliance had recruited many of its students to work the stands in exchange for free merchandise, a reasonable pay, class credits and free entry into the venue. According to Lance, more than half of the students were eager to see their heroes fight one another in exhibition matches.

“Who and who?” Caleb asked, taking another step forward with the moving line.

The moose beamed brightly, his brown eyes sparkling with anticipation. “They’re two supers in Oregon. ‘Protectors of the Our Natural Wonders’. Blackout is a moose, just like me.” Gerard puffed out his chest at that comment. “His power is to sap the light out of anywhere and make it totally dark.” He lifted a hand at Caleb. “Now I know what you’re thinking. That’s pretty damn lame but he’s actually developed his powers so he can sap out heat as well and he can focus it so well that he can create ‘solid darkness’ which is basically like getting cut with an ice-cold scalpel!”

“I guess if he had lived here, he’d be part of the Elemental Alliance.”

“Naw,” Gerard huffed, that same hand absently aside. “They’d never let him in.”

“Why not?”

“Because he married his beau. The current senator of Oregon, Reese Powell.”

Caleb stared at the moose in shock. “Wait… Wouldn’t that mean…?”

“Yep. Blackout is one of those supers that’s out out. Out about the fact that he’s gay and out in that his identity is out too.” The moose’s grin grew even bigger. “I was so stoked that he decided to come here because Senator Powell is one of those guys against Vernon Washington’s bullshit. Says that he agrees that supers shouldn’t have to hide their identities like his husband but putting that private information in the hands of the government alone, hell, the fucking military, is just inviting trouble. What if foreign powers got a hold of that info? Individual superhero teams managing their own identities offers a level of security and segregation that a singular governing body cannot provide.”

The line shuffled forward a large distance and Caleb briefly glanced to the ticketing booths to see a large family of rabbits hurrying through the gates. “I… I didn’t really think anyone outside of California cared about what happened here with Washington.”

“You kidding? It’s a national fucking debate!”

Blushing lightly, Caleb rubbed the back of his neck as they once again moved forward. “I guess I don’t really follow the news…”

“You really should catch up, dude. This tournament is more than just about the Gene Stealers and Washington. It’s about getting your mom to be mayor so that she can stop Washington’s bullshit. It’s pretty damn big. There are a lot of people rooting for her.”

Keith suddenly poked his head between them. “There’s a lot of people against it too,” quipped the groundhog. “Washington has a lot of good points, you know.”

The towering defensive captain rolled his eyes and pushed Keith away. “Yeah, yeah. National security. Gene Stealers and their agents. Whatever.”

It was clear by who didn’t want to come to the tournament who in their team supported the General. Caleb wouldn’t hold it against them. This was politics, after all, and not a reflection of their personalities. Washington was playing to people’s fears and after the whole team had been infected by Gnoll, quite a few of them were scared of it happening again. It was understandable.

At long last, they arrived at the ticketing booth and Gerard provided the tickets. The attendant, dressed in a superhero costume and no doubt one of Lance’s classmates, began processing the tickets. One at a time. There were about forty guys with them so that would take a while.

“You must be boiling in there,” Caleb said sympathetically.

“Not really,” she answered. The mink smiled at him as she finished with another ticket. “My suit is built with thermal regulators so my internal body heat never falls or gets too high.”

“That’s really neat. Is that a standard amongst supers now?”

“No. It’s because of my powers.” She smiled at him, offering a wave. “My name is Sunspot. I can generate heat.”

“Like Flare Blue?”

An apologetic smile touched her lips as she finished half of their tickets and handed them back. “Actually, nothing like that. No fire. Just heat. I can’t control it as well as he can either. He doesn’t burn himself when he generates those flames. I can feel the heat I make and I can sometimes burn myself or cause myself to dehydrate. Thus the suit.”

In this vast world of supers, there was a lot of variation and the level, power and skill of many supers. Even ‘baseline’ superpowers had varying levels of intensity with some people being titanically strong while still possessing some form of unique ability to others being able to regenerate almost instantaneously but being comparatively weaker. Tibia was supposed to have offset his seemingly weak powers with incredible physical strength.

“I guess we’re all born differently.”

It took him a second and the stares of both Gerard and Sunspot for him to realise that he had said something really compromising and possibly hinting at his nature as an Outsider.

“I - I - I mean, you’ve got superpowers and I’m just a high school wide receiver,” he said quickly, trying to act as naturally as possible. “We’ve got to make the best of what we have, right? You got picked up by the Elemental Alliance and someone from the WCIU scouted me a few weeks ago.”

“The Orcas?” Gerard asked. “But they suck!”

Caleb glanced away. “Yeah, I know. But it was still flattering, you know? Plus, I might get a free ride into college.”

“You’re way too smart for that. I always imagined you’d go off and maybe be a teacher or something.”

A teacher. That was certainly a possibility. Though they didn’t get paid very well. Maybe he could teach at a college level. He shook the thoughts from his head. It was far too early to be thinking about a prospective career.

“Still in high school, bro,” he said. “Can’t go thinking about that sort of stuff yet. I’m just a sophomore!” He caught Sunspot’s grim expression as she handed another ticket to them. “Sorry, did I say something to upset you?”

A thin smile toucher her lips. “No. Just thinking that it must be nice to have options.”

“Huh?”

“Well… I’m a super. I have to be a super. I can get an ordinary job and live a ‘normal’ life but I’ll always be compelled to save people when they’re in need, you know? I will always be a super. I don’t get that option. And if Vernon Washington gets to be mayor…”

… then she would effectively be forced to serve in the military. Being a superhero didn’t mean having more freedom than everyone else. It meant being chained by more responsibilities than the average person.

“… The thing is,” Sunspot sighed, “I don’t think Lillian Hale offers anything better.”

Gerard opened his muzzle to say something but Caleb quickly lifted his paw to silence his friend. “What do you mean?”

Sunspot shrugged and handed him the rest of the tickets. “I don’t mean to get political. Enjoy the tournament.”

“No. Please. I’d like to know.”

The mink grimaced a little, briefly glancing at the line behind them. Given that she had just processed forty guys, she must have thought she could get away with some chatter. “Well, Lillian Hale speaks a lot about unity against a common foe but… really, how is that different from the way things are now? We all fight against the same enemy. I mean, sure, maybe we fight one another every now and then but when everything goes bad, I like to think we’d be able to put aside our differences and do the right thing.” She shook her head sadly. “Lillian Hale isn’t a super. At least I don’t think she is. So she wouldn’t understand what being one means. I mean, I guess I’d vote for her because the alternative is much worse but… I just wish she’d offer something, you know? Something to make things better instead of ‘just keep everything as it is’.”

“But she isn’t though,” argued Gerard. “She’s trying to get us to understand the victims too. Just one step, right?”

“Yeah but what about the rest of us?” Sunspot shrugged. “Anyway, sorry to keep you in line. Please, enjoy.”

Caleb shuffled away, passing the turn styles as he pondered Sunspot’s words. His mom had been focusing a lot on the victims with her chant of ‘Just one step’ and it sounded good in sentiment but was there actually any legislation or action that she promised? You could understand the supers, the Outsiders and the victims… but what would you do about them? Washington gave definitive action, plans. What did his mom offer?

“Hey, can I meet you at our seats later?” he told Gerard. “I just got to catch up with my mom.”

“Don’t let what that super said get to you,” Gerard said, clapping his back. “Your mom is doing plenty to help and promises even more. You’re doing great.”

“Right. Still…” he hiked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll catch up.”

This was also the perfect excuse to duck away and get dressed as Weapons Master. He took one of the tickets so he could get back into the stadium should he need and then bolted back out of the exits. Rounding away from from the crowds, he approached one of the ‘competitor’ entrances that were disguised as a normal brick wall. Only those with a certain pass would be able to pass through it and since Caleb was a competitor, he possessed one such pass. Optical jammers had been erected around the entrance so after a certain point, he would just have vanished from sight. He passed through the wall, entering a long, concrete hallway that led him deep into the stadium and into the waiting rooms.

Several supers and their teams were already there, all dressed in their suits and talking tactics.

One such super stopped him.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To my mom,” Caleb replied. “Lillian Hale.” He held out one of his passes, the one clearly indicating that he was Lillian’s son.

The super, a big alpaca, blinked in surprise. “Oh shit! You’re Caleb Hale, aren’t ya?” He grinned broadly and shook Caleb’s paw roughly. “Sorry to hear about how you got turned into a hyena by Gnoll. Really fucking sucks when innocent civilians get caught in our battles.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled softly. “But I got out of it stronger.”

“You’re one of the lucky ones. Not everyone can just walk it off like you can. I mean, those henchmen turned to the Gene Stealers because we weren’t there to support them.” The man nodded at him. “Your mom is doing a good job. Not enough awareness is brought to victims of our battles.”

He offered a small smile in return. “Yeah. Just one step, right?”

“Totally.” The alpaca stepped aside. “I’ll let you go to your mom. Sorry to keep you.”

Caleb thanked the super and hurried towards the various preparation rooms. His mom along with Hank and the rest of her media crew were housed in one of the ‘green rooms’ of the stadium. Just before the opening ceremonies, she was meant to make a speech to make it nice and clear that this whole event was tied to her campaign. Her speech was meant to provide some insight on how other countries dealt with the divide between supers and Outsiders like David had suggested but also keep preaching that message of unity. Just one step, as she often reiterated.

He entered the green room where Lillian was pacing tersely in front of a large mirror. Hank was seated on a large, red couch going over her talking points and the script for the rest of the day.

“So the games will officially being at 10 o’clock,” Hank said. “You’re going to make your speech at 9:30 which is just an hour away. Once you finish your speech which I’ve timed at fifteen minutes, you’re going to kick off the opening ceremonies, the supers from different leagues are going to march in and then we start with the fights.”

Lillian bit the claw on her thumb, a nervous habit that Caleb had seen less and less as the years went by. “I still don’t like the idea of pairing my message of unity with combat but I guess if there’s one thing that’ll attract people’s attention, it’s conflict.” Only then did she notice Caleb. “Oh, Caleb, honey. Shouldn’t you be with your team?”

She was purposefully vague on which ‘team’ she was referring as her hair and makeup team were still present. The black Labrador with a rather effeminate stance and simply screamed ‘flaming queer’ was none other than Jacques, the lead photographer from GUYS magazine. The Frenchman - or at least he liked to make people believe he was French - was observing her in the bright red suit that hugged her figure very well. He was constantly lifting a white cape as if deciding whether or not the suit would go well with it and her message of support for the supers and their victims. Jacques was ignoring Caleb likely because he had never drawn the associated that Lillian’s son was actually the very same Weapons Master that he had photographed multiple times before.

“I just wanted to check in on you,” he answered with a smile.

“Oh that’s so sweet honey.” Though she gave him a smile, it was clearly forced. “I’ll be alright. You go on and enjoy yourself.” Her eyes went briefly towards his scar. This morning had been filled with a bit of trepidation about him fighting in the tournament given his recent injury but he had argued that it was necessary. His absence would be very clearly noticed and it would have little to no impact for the Outsider population and vote if Weapons Master was not there.

“I will, mom,” he said. “Though, can I ask you something?”

She waved at Hank so that the fox would stop his planning and the room fell silent. Lillian took a seat in a swivelling chair and gave her son an encouraging smile. “Sure thing, honey. What’s bothering you?”

Caleb tilted his head slightly and then glanced at Hank. “Is there anything in your speech about what you’re going to actually do?”

The question stunned everyone in the room, even the stylist.

“Of course,” Lillian answered. “We’re going to raise awareness of victims of superhero conflicts and promote Outsider relationships.”

“Right. But is that something a mayor should be doing? Are you sure that’s not something a charity worker or a political activist would do?” Those words brought the entire room to a stand still. They knew he was right. Before they could suddenly break out into a panic, Caleb said, “I spoke to this super out on the ticketing booths. She said she liked everything you stood for and would vote for you but it was only because she realised that Washington’s stuff would be much worse. That you were offering up these idealisms but no actual solutions.” He shoved his paws into his pockets. “I think if you wanted to reach out to people, you should come up with some solid ideas and plans of action.”

Hank shot to his feet. “You’re telling her this now?” He glanced at his watch. “Forty-seven minutes until she’s meant to make a speech!? Caleb, come on!”

Lillian waved him down. “No. He’s right, Hank. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while now. It’s the one thing that Washington has over me. He knows what he’ll do if he gets elected.” Her eyes, laser-like in focus, glanced at her reflection in the mirror. “I want to make people more aware of victims. I want to elevate Outsiders. But the question is… how do I do that?”

“This isn’t the time to be thinking about that!” Hank protested, smacking the tablet he was holding with the back of his paw. “Lilly, we’ve been working on this speech for days now! We can’t just throw it aside.”

Strange that Hank was calling his mom ‘Lilly’. Only his dad called her that. Caleb dismissed the thought with a flick of his tail. Probably just a product of the two working together so often.

“We can’t just keep spouting the same thing over and over again, Hank,” Lillian answered. “We’ve given the people an idea of what we want but now we need to drive it home with a solid idea. A plan of action.”

“What do you suggest?”

She folded her arms with a huff, mirroring her husband. “Let me think about it.”

‘Please don’t wing it again,” grimaced her campaign manager.

Caleb smiled, glad to have had some impact in her message. “I’ll see you later, mom. Good luck.”

“You too, honey,” she said, flashing him a brief smile. “And thanks. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

Though he didn’t like the idea of spying for his mom, at the very least he had given her some insight on what the voters were thinking. He left her prep room and headed to one a few doors down. This was where Arsenal was preparing themselves. No one stopped him as he entered. The small room was far too cramped for the seven of them especially with Ben in his enormous werewolf form and Madman being as big as he always was. Madman had to be sequestered off to a corner where he was putting on his suit, trying not to knock over a coat rack while Ben was on the other corner trying to do the same with a table. Lars and Mary were already dressed but David was still in his civilian clothes. Rhiannon was dressed only in a bright, pink Hello Kitty g-string and everyone was trying hard to ignore her. Good thing she wasn’t actually going to go out there to fight.

“Caleb!” Lars exclaimed, leaping to his feet. “How’d you manage to shake Gerard?”

“Said I needed to speak to my mom before her speech,” he answered, tossing his head back in the direction of the door. “How’s everyone feeling?”

“Kind of nervous,” admitted the doberman. “There are a lot of high-profile supers here. Did you know that the Titans are here?”

The Titans were like the Elemental Alliance’s counterparts in New York City. Arsenal had visited them just a few months ago for New Years Day thanks to Ben’s connections. The group’s founding members were Power Paw, Nightfox, Recharge, Water Witch and Arachnikid. Their meeting had been quite cordial even if they had gotten involved in an altercation against a supervillain that day.

“Really? Wow.”

“This is a pretty big affair,” David chimed, a prideful grin on his muzzle. “We’ve got at least one team in from every state. It’s turned out bigger than I thought. More than a few of them even donated to your mom’s campaign.”

That meant there was a lot of eyes on this event. Even more pressure on Lillian.

“And since we’re the only Outsiders here, we’re basically representing the species,” Mary added. “Well. At least you and I are Outsiders.”

“Oh boy…” he groaned. “No pressure.”

“There’s no holding back,” Lars said. “So I was wondering which weapon you’d take with you.”

Caleb had wondered that himself. The battles would take place in a ‘ring’ which consisted of a nice, soft sand with anti-super and anti-gravity fields out around the edges. That meant if someone was sent flying, they would be caught in the field and instantly be incapable of using their powers. That would designate them as ‘out’. The only other way of losing aside from being knocked out was to visibly surrender which involved lifting two fingers into the air for all to see. That meant there wasn’t much for Caleb to use in terms of his powers apart from the sand. Since he couldn’t really predict what he would get from the sand, it was risky to go out there without one of his persistent weapons.

“I was thinking of using Branding Iron,” he said. “It’s got decent range and it’s adds are a lot stronger than Funny Bone. Not to mention it’s got great defences compared to Funny Bone’s more offensive style.”

Lars tilted his head to the side. “You’re not going to use Live Wire? You might benefit from it’s mobility.”

Caleb flinched and immediately flashed back to the moment when he had been forced to turn against his own teammates, controlled by Trojan. He nearly killed them and he was fully aware of every action as he executed them.

“Uhm… I don’t think I’m ready to use Live Wire yet.”

He got a puzzled look from Lars and a frown from Ben.

“You can’t be afraid of using it again, Caleb,” said the werewolf. “You’ve been cleared. AEGIS scientists have said Trojan doesn’t have control over you anymore. Jake would tell you as well if there’s a risk of it.”

“Would he though?” David growled. “Reaper runs on his own agenda and I’m pretty damn sure that if it suits his plans for my son to be controlled by Trojan on live television, he’d let it happen.”

“I don’t think he would, dad,” Caleb chastised. “But thanks for supporting me.” He shook his head at Lars. “Jake said there’s a good chance the Gene Stealers are going to attack and I don’t want to risk using Live Wire even if there’s just a small chance that something was missed.” Putting on an easy grin, he said, “Besides, like you guys said. We’re going to be on national television here. I don’t want to fuck up by using a weapon I’m barely trained with. I’ll stick with Branding Iron.”

Lars offered a supportive nod. “Okay. I can work with that.” He gave Caleb a light punch. “Leave the offense to me, Madman and Ben then.”

He nodded in return. “I’ll be on support and bring out my minotaurs.” Then he turned towards the others a smile on his face. “Let’s all have fun out there.” His eyes settled on Bren. “And… try not to die too often, Bren. Kids are watching.”

The immortal tiger lifted a paw. “No promises.”

******

The stadium was filled to the brim. Not a single spare seat. Countless others were watching through the cameras and news feeds from outlets all over the world. No doubt, somewhere GG Guinness was watching, looking for signs of weakness. Political enemies, one of which had to be Vernon Washington, were tuning in as Lillian Hale stepped up to the podium at the centre of the arena. She was flanked by a few bodyguards that had been employed by her husband just for this occasion. She was sure one of them would stay permanently given David’s actions recently. Though Caleb’s bravery had shaken that, somewhat. If Caleb hadn’t called him out, there was no doubt David would have hired a whole army to protect her given how much money had been funnelled into this tournament.

There had to be some rule against organisations from other states funnelling that much money into one campaign. There was certainly a limit but no hard-and-fast rule against contributions. So many superhero teams threw their lot in with her and they knew exactly why; if Vernon Washington won and managed to employ his laws of superhero registry and compulsory military service in West California Island, a dangerous precedent would be set. What was stopping other mayors from doing the same? What was stopping senators from bringing it up to congress? What if the president proposed it to the rest of the world?

There would be no freedom for those gifted with powers.

And in that, she saw exactly what her son, Caleb, had warned her against.

What was her answer to Washington’s proposals?

The last tones of the national anthem had faded and the microphone activated.

“Welcome to the first ever Clash of Champions,” she boomed, spreading her arms wide and smiling brightly. All according to script. “This event could not have been made possible on such short notice if not for the efforts of all the contributers like the Elemental Alliance, Apple, Microsoft, Toyota, GUYS Magazine…” She listed a few more of the major contributers that David and Hank had solicited. “… and many, many more. They all pooled their efforts to making this day a day where we celebrate how despite all our differences, whether we have fur or feathers, scales or skin, the ability to control the weather or the skill to paint beautiful landscapes, the power to shoot lasers or the wisdom to teach the next generation, we are all united in our commonality. We are all people of this world.”

Hank had been sure to avoid using any words like ‘not’ or ‘without’ when describing those that were not supers or Outsiders. Avoid anything that would hint at a negative, he said. He was smart like that and she had to admit, she enjoyed his company. Like her, he had no powers but was just pulled into the strange world of those with abilities.

The cheer died down, giving her the opportunity to continue.

“I…”

The next part of her speech was meant to go over her promises to start outreach programs for the victims of superhero battles and to make their stories known. It was all they could come up with in such short notice. But it didn’t feel enough. It wouldn’t change anything. As she realised from Caleb’s words, she was just running her campaign to keep Vernon from office. Was that the kind of mayor she wanted to be? The mayor that was elected because the alternative was just so much worse?

So many campaigns had failed on that premise alone. She was just reaching out to those people who didn’t like Vernon and not doing enough to reach out to those that did. If all her voters were just those with powers that didn’t want to have their privacy invaded by Washington’s cruel registration, then she was going to lose for sure.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Hank standing on the sidelines, rapidly shaking his head and waving for her to stick to the script.

That was not something she could do.

“I came to a realisation earlier today.” Those words alone made Hank slump into his seat and slap his forehead hard. “I keep telling everyone that all we need is to take that one step. Just one step. But I realised that I never answered the question of what direction we were going to take that step or what would come after we move in that direction.” Her sudden solemnity brought a dire air to the stadium. “I thought about changing my slogan to ‘just one step in the right direction’ but my PR staff told me that was too wordy.”

A small ripple of laughter came from the light joke.

“I had to ask myself what the ‘right direction’ was. I thought long and hard about what that meant.” That was a lie. Up until just an hour ago, she had set aside those thoughts and had been dead set on delivering a speech about unity. Pressing a paw against her chest, she said, “I’ll be honest. I started my campaign because I didn’t like the idea of General Vernon Washington telling the people who risk their lives every day for us that he doesn’t trust them and he wants their names, addresses and everything else that would make them a private citizen. It wouldn’t matter if they actually went out and saved people for a living. As long as you have a power, he wanted to know everything about you, watch your every move, keep you under a microscope for the rest of your life like an animal in a zoo, doing tricks for him whenever he wanted all for some illusion of freedom. What’s next? Is he going to breed you with one another so he can make the ‘perfect superhero’?”

People were muttering amongst themselves. If that wasn’t a thought in their minds, it was now.

“This was why I started my campaign,” she said fiercely. “But it isn’t how I’m going to run it. Not anymore.” She formed a fist and lifted it into the air. “I am going to fight not just for supers. Not just for Outsiders. Not just for the victims of their battles. I am going to fight for you all. I am going to take just one step for all!”

Her renewed rallying cry brought heads up and eyes shining.

Now it was time to drive home her point. Not just sentimental speeches but actual, decisive action. A plan. If only she had one. But she had momentum. Her audience was captivated by her speech. Topic sentence made, time to make her argument.

“We commonly think that you need to be born with superpowers. That’s true but you don’t need to be born a super to become a super_hero_. Take Nightowl from the Titans in New York City. He wasn’t born with superpowers yet he’s still out there every day, protecting our people with his skills that he developed himself. For those who have the motivation, the strength and determination to stand up and fight for the people you love, to uphold justice but just don’t have the powers others are naturally born with, I will open for you boarding schools that will help you perfect your body, hone your mind and sharpen your skills for the betterment of our city! This is not just for Outsiders either who are often looked down upon because they lack baseline superpowers. This is for anyone who is willing to risk their lives much like our men and women in blue!”

She drew upon her experiences with her sons, Caleb and Leon for that.

Someone from the crowd jumped to their feet and shouted something. It sounded a little like, ‘Yeah! Opportunity!’. This was quickly joined by other rallying cries and the chant of ‘just one step for all’ began.

“Not too long ago, Bal-Mordain had been the premium security facility to keep our most dangerous criminals,” she continued. “They use the most high-tech anti-supers fields to keep their inmates locked up in perpetuity. Then it was attacked by someone from the outside and so many broke free. I say that is a mistake. These are people who deserve to have a second chance, to be reformed and to rejoin society to use their powers for good. I will reshape not just our penal system for supers but also for everyone that has been incarcerated! We have too few hands to better West California Island to reach for the horizon already! We keep people trapped forever in a block where they will rot away just waiting for some other supervillain to free them and wreak havoc to the rest of our world.”

That was controversial, she knew. A lot of families out there would gladly see the villains how had hurt their loved ones locked away forever so she quickly followed this up with her other point.

“I also intend to reinforce Bal-Mordain and expand its facilities to be far more secure. I swear to you, I will spend half a billion dollars to upgrade the facility and made it impervious to further attack.”

That was an arbitrary number and she wasn’t even sure they had that much in the budget but it was a solid number and one that got the crowd riled up. Solid figures, plans of action, that was what they needed and they were eagerly jumping to their feet and cheering ‘just one step for all’.

“To those that have been wronged by villains, notice how when there are teams like the Elemental Alliance around, the insurance becomes far less affordable? It goes hand in hand. A region where a team is stationed is a hot spot for villainy and with so much damage, insurance companies hope to make a bank by squeezing you all out of the money you’ve worked so hard to earn.” She slammed her fist into the podium with a loud bang. “I will not stand for that. You cannot capitalise on the good will of people aiming to serve and protect. You cannot profile us just because of where we live. That is exactly what the General is doing.” She made sure to twist her tone into a mocking one upon mention of Washington. “So, I aim to introduce legislation into our fair city that will lower insurance premiums. We all need protection, physically, emotionally and financially!”

If there was one thing that would appeal to people, it was money especially if that was money that was going to go back to them. The idea of having affordable insurance got the biggest cheer she had yet and it would not die down.

‘Just one step for all!’ chanted the crowd. ‘Just one step for all! Just one step for all!’

The crowd was captivated. Now was the time to drive her point home, to bring her back to the reason she had decided to run for mayor and it wasn’t just to keep Vernon Washington from the seat. She needed to ground it back in the points she made in her first rally which had been marred by the Gimp’s attack.

“Our fair island is growing, constantly evolving,” he announced, spreading her arms wide. “I say we evolve with it! The threat of the Gene Stealers is something that we should all be concerned about. Not just the supers and heroes that call the Island it’s home but also those who are visiting us here today. But I will commend the Gene Stealers for revealing a weakness in our society.”

The cheering began to subside a little. Was she really praising the Gene Stealers? How could any candidate actually acknowledging the threat to the Island?

“They revealed how little we care about the victims of supervillains and disasters. Those that have had their homes destroyed, lost loved ones or whose prospects are dimmed just because of something out of their control; I will fight for you! I will open an entire department dedicated to helping you get back on your feet! My administration will devote funds, people and resources to making sure that you stand up and take that one step! That one step for all!”

Hank, looking more relieved now, tapped his watch. It was time to wrap things up.

Lifting her paws int the air, she indicated silence. Topic sentence captivated the audience. Arguments presented and well received. Now for the conclusion.

“These are what I promise you and more,” she said. “Remember, I am not just here to prevent the egregious breach of privacy and basic rights that General Vernon Washington wants to employ. I’m here to fight for you. I want to take us all that one step to better West California Island. I am here to stand beside you and just take that one step for all!”

The crowd cheered, a mighty roar that must have reached well into the surrounding streets. It was a rallying cry greater than her rally.

Hopefully it was enough.

“Now,” she bellowed, “without further ado. May I present to you the supers participating in today’s competition!”

Lillian had spent the entirety of the previous evening memorising each name of the supers that would compete today and made sure to add a flattering adjective before each one. Even when it came to the antagonistic Siren, she had to sing her praises. Each super emerged in their own way, all coordinated by David. Each one was given forty-five seconds to make their entrance. Shockstrom, for instance, used his powers in tandem with his wife, Siren. Rainclouds gathered above them, swirling over the stadium in a dizzying vortex. Siren descended from the centre of the hurricane, plummeting to the ground only for all the water that had descended from the rain to sweep up and catch her before she hit the ground, the torrents of water sweeping up around her like a pair of angelic wings. Shockstorm was a second behind, a single titanic bolt of electricity pouring down from the thunderheads and colliding with the ground right beside his wife. It was smart since Siren had first gathered all the water to avoid accidentally electrifying anyone nearby when her husband appeared. Even the guests from the other superhero teams arrived in spectacular and flashy ways. Nightfox’s Nightwing zoomed overhead and the cowled superhero leapt from the cockpit, spreading his cape which immediately unfurled into a glider. He stuck the landing, looking all broody as ever as he took his place next to the other Titans.

When it came time to announce Lance - AKA Feral Fang - her chest filled with pride as her four-armed son came barrelling over the stadium walls, having leapt up from a nearby building. Everyone stared at the spinning ball of fur and muscle as Lance easily cleared the stands and landed in the stadium grounds with a thunderous slam. He rose, lifting all four of his arms to greet the crowd who all cheered for him in return. A blustery wind suddenly carried a tonne of sand from the depths of the stadium, streaming in from all corners and forming a blinding column of swirling sands around Lance. That same sand lifted into the air, carried by the winds like a copper curtain rising to reveal the comparatively smaller kangaroo right next Lance, standing comfortably in his cute green and yellow suit with a metal mask over his features. Corey, Lance’s boyfriend and currently under the alias of Sand Blast. The crowd’s curiosity was piqued because the winds didn’t die down even as the two supers stood in the midst of the pillar of winds, seemingly unfazed. It was Lillian’s role to point to the skies to bring the crowd’s attention of Bosch, Lance’s team leader and friend currently going under the name ‘Sky Dragon’. The dragon - though missing the wings of Dragon Knight - descended calmly and came to stand next to Lance, the three of them side by side. The sight truly made her heart swell with pride.

There was no doubt that Arsenal would always be last. Whether it was because they were the underdogs here or because David had orchestrated it so that they would get to finish off the introduction sequence, they would always be last.

“Put your hands together for the girl you all love!” she began. If she was accused of favouritism because she was putting longer and more elaborate introductions to Arsenal, so be it. She had to make it clear where she stood. “That badass bitch that stole your hearts, that sassy sister with all the right moves and female lead of Arsenal, Blade Babe!” Rhiannon was not going to make an appearance, naturally. It wasn’t public knowledge that the Hound of Destruction was part of Arsenal and though she knew that the Hound would have some choice words for her given that introduction of Mary, she could deal with it.

Especially when Rhiannon was going to make Mary’s introduction all the more special.

For a second, Lillian had to remember exactly which side was the west side of the stadium but when she did, she immediately pointed in that direction. The cameramen were experts and they swivelled the big screens to one particular seat where Mary slyly rose up from amongst the crowd. Stunned audience members stared as the black-clad Outsider deftly jumped onto the seat and leapt off towards the stairs. She landed easily on the railings separating the two aisles, sliding down their length to upbeat music that had undertones of feminism and female empowerment - all at her request of course. As the railings began to end, she easily jumped off and landed on the stadium grounds. She strutted all the way towards where Arsenal was meant to stand. The cheers for her were deafening.

“The superspy and the backbone of Arsenal, the cool, suave and devilishly handsome Bren!”

For a second, nothing happened… then a javelin jammed itself right into the ground right beside Mary. To her credit, she didn’t flinch. Everyone stared at the blinking spear, puzzled as to its purpose. Bands of light and glistening lasers erupted from the end of the spear, forming the shape of the suited tiger. Just for effect, Bren adjusted his tie as he took up position beside Mary, his eyes always hidden by a pair of glasses. Lillian wondered where Bren’s other body - the one that had to be ‘killed’ for this one to respawn - rested.

“Living proof that everyone deserves a second chance and that we can work together for a better tomorrow,” she continued, gesturing towards the eastern side of the stadium. “Madman!”

The huge hyena came barrelling out of the arena tunnels brandishing his huge stasis chaingun. He fired shots into the air just as fireworks streamed into the air with exact timing. There were girls and guys actively trying to reach over to Madman, some of them even flashing their breasts for him to sign. As the second most popular member of Arsenal, he was a superstar. Lillian made a note to utilise him more in her campaign. After all, Luis Sanchez was the shining example of what she was preaching; someone who was attacked by the Gene Stealers, could have rotted in a prison but instead rose up, joined Arsenal and was now fighting to protect their shared home.

That was a message worth telling.

Just as Madman was approaching Mary, the fireworks were ending but not before Flare Blue came rocketing out from outside the stadium, leaving a trail of blue flames behind him. Naturally, Lars wanted to make a stunning display and controlled the flames to linger a little longer in the air as he twisted and spun. The words ‘Clash of Champions’ was emblazoned in blue fire above the stadium. Lars rocketed towards the ground, colliding with the floor in the perfect superhero landing right next to Mary.

“A super that needs little introduction,” continued Lillian. “A man who has stood against adversity and subverting all expectations by bringing awareness to the importance of Outsiders in our society! Flare Blue!”

Before the roar of the crowd could die down, Lillian raised her paw towards the southern side of the stadium. “The Bane of the Blood Moon, the Werewolf of West California Island and proof that we can come together for a common goal against our past, Blood Wolf!”

Ben’s howl pierced through the cheers of the crowd and the roar of the fireworks. The blood-red wolf jumped up to the southern extremities of the stadium. Another howl brought the crowd to utter silence and that was exactly what Ben wanted. He leapt off his perch, easily clearing the thousands of audience members, each of them gawking in mute awe. Ben landed directly in front of Lars with the two staring at one another. The cameras zoomed in on them and the entire stadium became deathly still.

Then Ben grinned and Lars returned the gesture. The two of them bumped fists and they took up their positions. The sigh of relief from everyone in the stadium was palpable.

“Advocate for Oustider rights, one of the founding members of the Elemental Alliance and one of West California Island’s most experienced superheroes, Feral Steel!”

As planned, a huge bullet of metal came bursting out from the ground. The crowd was once again whipped up into a frenzy as the metal sheets that made up the bullet peeled open and David strode out in his modified super suit. Lillian felt herself fall in love with her husband all over again. Even with everything that has happened, not all of which she approved, seeing him in that suit and making the simple but still effective entrance sent her heart skipping a beat.

“And lastly,” she bellowed, “poster boy for Arsenal and the lynch pin in our efforts against the Gene Stealers, Weapons Master!”

She lifted her paw straight upwards. Everyone looked up and was stunned when the black and gold Ballistic came zooming in from above. There was barely held contempt in Siren’s eyes as the hovering motorcycle came zooming in, nearly silent in its approach. The crowd cheered, awed at Weapons Master’s newest ride. When Caleb did a wheelie just before he hit the ground, switching the cycle back into its ground-based travel and parking it at an angle right in front of the rest of his team, cameras went off. Arsenal was complete and the shoot was absolutely perfect.

And now they were assembled.

Lillian let out a sigh of relief. No screw-ups. Except perhaps for her going off script a little.

“Awww, did you forget about us?”

Her heart froze.

All eyes and cameras suddenly turned towards the northern entrance of the stadium grounds. From there, two otters came striding out, each one holding a microphone. They were dressed in little more than a pair of jockstraps leaving very little to the imagination. Their lean, muscled physiques moved with a deadly grace and ease that left Lillian little doubt to their identity.

“Feral Steel…” she began, glancing towards her husband.

David’s hackles were raised and his fangs were bared. Then, a look of shock filled his features but his eyes were not on the two otters. They were turned towards the crowd. Lillian glanced to where her husband was looking… and her heart fell all the more.

All amongst the audience, dispersed randomly, otters were rising. Each of them were heavily muscled. They all grabbed the assortment of civilian clothing they were wearing and tore them clean off revealing little more than underwear beneath.

“Oh no…” she whispered.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” piped up one of the otters. The cameras were panned on them, all the jumbo screens showing their features. They had clearly hijacked the show.

“Let us introduce ourselves,” chimed the other otter. “My name is Pins!”

“And I am Needles!”

“And we are Gene Stealers!”

“Before you all go into a panic and think about escaping, we have a surprise for you!”

A field of shimmering blue hexagons erupted from just outside the stadium limits. Each hexagon was lined with golden light, stacking on top of one another in a tessellating fashion until they formed a dome over the stadium.

“We just activated a force field that’s going to keep each and every one of you trapped in here!” laughed Pins.

Needles immediately took it from there. “We’re here to play a little game! But not your game. Oh no.”

“A game of our own! It’s called…”

The twins grinned malevolently, their features made all the scarier with their mirroring smiles.

“Try stop us,” they finished in unison.

Someone screamed from the stands and Lillian immediately turned towards the sound. It was too far to see but the cameras immediately displayed the horrific scene on the enormous screens. One of the huge otters had grabbed a young man by the shoulder. The otter’s fingers sank into the young human’s bare shoulder; not claws puncturing skin. Literally sinking into the guy’s flesh and merging with it. The man’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as big, purplish veins bulged out from where contact was made. Dark brown fur that matched his hair began snaking out from where the two made contact and the huge otter’s arm seemed to sink deeper and deeper into the poor young man. As it did so, that mass seemed to be transferred into the poor audience member, his clothes ripping and shredding as his mass doubled, tripled and even quadrupled in size; all muscle contained by dark-brown fur. His features twisted into the hungry, maddened features of an otter, a rudder-like tail erupted from his backside and his cock bursting from his pants and sending out a wave of cum. The newly made otter lustily lunged at the man sitting next to him his arms sinking into the other guy’s belly and starting the transformation all over again. The original otter pulled his arm back, unmerging with the new Gene Stealer with a sound akin to grinding bones and undulating muscles.

More screams quickly erupted all over the stadium as the scene repeated itself over and over again.

“You bastards!” Lars bellowed, lunging forward.

Both Pins and Needles held up a paw each, waggling a finger at him. Flare Blue stopped in his tracks.

“Did we neglect to mention one other thing?” giggled Needles.

“We’ve actually planted four high-yield charged particle energy bombs all over the city,” continued Pins.

Particle Energy Bomb of PEB. They were the standard weapons of mass destruction preferred by the Japanese. Unlike nuclear armaments, PEBs did not unleash any sort of harmful radiation after their detonation and their explosion radius was highly contained and calculated. Thus it was possible to accurately predict the damage inflicted by a PEB. Some of the more elaborate PEBs were actually designed to release their energy in specific patterns, some even shooting the blast out and upwards to form a literal pillar of energy and others in more flashy patterns like stars or circles. There was even one variety known as the ‘Saint’s Cross’ that was designed to explode upwards in a pillar and form a Christian cross. The designers supposedly drew influence from a very old animation that involved aliens and angels.

How did the Gene Stealers get such a weapon?

Pins reached down into his jockstrap, retrieving what appeared to be a keycard of some sort. “You have two hours to get this key off us. You’d have to guess which one of us has it though and bring the key towards a secret location where we have the control mechanism for the bombs.”

“If you don’t,” giggled needles. “Then the whole island goes boom!”

Someone suddenly grabbed the microphone out of Lillian’s paws. It was Benjamin Connors, the career villain. “Are you insane!?” barked the werewolf. “You’re going to nuke half of the Island! The Gene Stealers aren’t meant to do that! They’re there to convert not kill!”

“No… they’re not…” Lillian realised, her eyes widening. “It’s not about destroying as much of West California Island as possible. It’s making a statement.” She locked gazes with Ben. “Those PEBs are likely configured to be as flashy as possible while dealing as little damage as possible. They want the world to know that the Gene Stealers managed to lock every super on the Island in one place and make a scene!”

It was a statement. A declaration. They were going to announce to the entire world that they had not only had the Gene Stealers managed to best the supers on the Island but that they also had access to weapons of mass destruction. They were finally ready to step onto the world stage! What was worse, that would elevate Washington’s platform. The General would have more reason to take over.

“Now you’re getting it,” laughed Pins, his visage plastered all over the screens and no doubt being relayed all over the Island. “So who wants to go first?”

A super, Meteorite from the Elemental Alliance, suddenly shot forward, his entire body coated in magma and his body afire. The badger rushed forward, hand outstretched for the keycard. Needles’ eyes glinted as the badger momentarily dropped his fiery aura so that he could seize the card from his brother. The identical otter suddenly lashed out, his fingers intertwining with the badger’s in an almost loving and affectionate gesture. Meteorite looked confused for a moment… then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his fiery aura suddenly faded. He dropped to his needs, moaning lustily.

Members of the Alliance shouted his alias but there was no stopping the transformation. Paralysed with arousal, Meteorite could only kneel there as Needles’ paw melded with the badger’s comparatively larger paw. His fingers sank into the badger’s and he stepped forward as if he was pushing himself into the hero’s arm. In response, Meteorite’s entire forearm bulged, tearing through his suit and revealing a vascular, muscled limb that was disproportionate to the rest of his body. Needles licked his lips and pulled Meteorite’s paw closer to him, the badger’s arm crawling up the otter’s all the way up to the bicep. Meteorite could only moan in ecstasy as his whole bicep bulged out, tearing his suit from the shoulder down.

“Get off him you fucker!” shouted Meteorite’s partner, a female puma named Blast Radius. She came rushing forward, each step sending out shockwaves. Just as she reached Meteorite, however, a brown, furry paw pressed against her cheek.

“Oh no…” breathed Lillian.

Pins.

Blast Radius had enough time to register the gentle caress before Pins’ paw began sinking into her cheek, the otter’s diabolical genes merging with hers like a dark virus going straight for her brain.

“Retreat,” David breathed, his eyes darting all over the stands. The number of otters was growing exponentially and as more and more civilians were falling prey to the transformation, they were transforming others and starting to spill down onto the arena grounds. “Everyone! Retreat!”

Lillian was suddenly grabbed by the shoulders and hauled straight towards the southern exit, the farthest exit from where Pins and Needles were merging with two supers. Not all of the heroes retreated, however, and some stayed to fight. The stadium could fill up to a seventy-five thousand people. Compelled by morality, these superheroes were forced to hold back against the lust-driven otters that were quickly swarming over them. There were just too many to truly hold at bay!

Her heart was pounding and everything became a blur. This had turned into a disaster. Now they were trapped inside the stadium with two hours to stop four weapons of mass destruction alongside over seventy-thousand otters! Even if they made it out of this, her campaign was completely and utterly broken!

There was no recovering from this.

“Jake.”

Caleb’s voice brought her out of her shock and it was only then that she realised that the man who had swept her off her feet had not been her husband; it had been her adoptive son. In fact, she was surprised by how calm and focused Caleb’s features were. This was a face that she hadn’t seen for a long time. It was the same face David would put on back before he was a werewolf and in his early career in the Elemental Alliance. But there was a difference here.

Where David had always been stoic and like a single pillar of power against the storm of the world, Caleb had a phone to his ear and was calling Jacob Reaper. David had only agreed to form the Elemental Alliance because he had to. Solo hero acts were a liability and since there was very little regulation around supers back then, no one was willing to insure a super with as much power as David and was acting alone. Only by forming the Alliance and giving investors and insurance companies the illusion that he would have others to keep him in check did he maintain a career as a super.

So while Caleb wore David’s resolute face, he was not like his father.

“Did you get all that?” Caleb pressed as they entered the southern tunnels into the bowels of the stadium.

Lillian perked her ears, trying to catch the conversation even as they continued to run, surrounded by a few members of the Alliance.

“Hard not to,” came Reaper’s answer. “You don’t need to worry about the bombs. We’ve got them.”

“We?” Lillian repeated. Caleb just flashed her a quick grin before turning back to his conversation.

“Alright. I’ll leave that to you. We’ll see if we can stop Pins and Needles and get that keycard. Weapons Master out.”

******

Perched on the top of his apartment building, Jacob Reaper snapped his phone shut and stared at the pillar of blue energies in the distance.

“You knew this would happen, didn’t you?” accused Samson Connors. The big werewolf king folded his huge arms beside the blonde-haired wolf. “That’s why you specifically called us here and told us not to join the tournament.”

“If you have the power of foresight, why didn’t you just dismantle the bombs before all this shit began?” Leon Hale demanded. “Why even put us all at risk?”

Reaper grinned savagely and flicked his wrists. Crimson flames danced around his fingertips, forming fiery feathers that quickly coalesced into two large red and silver daggers; one in each paw. “Predominantly because there is no assurances about where the Gene Stealers have placed the bombs and what they will do. There was always the chance that they would back out at the last minute or change the locations of the bombs to throw me off. Regardless of whether or not we can see the future, it won’t change where we are at the time of the critical juncture. This was the best way to ensure the best outcome.”

Elliot stomped up beside the three wolves, once more in his power armour and his voice emerging from the machine with a metallic twang.

“When you said ‘predominantly’, it suggests you have an ulterior motive.”

“True.” He turned towards his gathered team, a small fragment of Assault. “And as trusted members of the team, I’ll divulge it.” His grin took on a sinister edge. “The Gene Stealers aren’t the only ones with overarching plans. Harm Chronos may have been the one that preferred to be reactive and only make short term plans but I’m the one that plots and takes advantage of twists and turns. Something the Gene Stealers are about to learn.”

Two fiery wings suddenly erupted from behind him, shooting past his blue coat and giving one big flap that lifted him off the air.

“Now come on,” demanded Legion. “We’re all going to the same location.”

Leon balked at the announcement. “What? Why? There are four bombs. There are four of us! We can stop them all at once!”

“Right but I wanted to mess with the Scalpel. Nothing worse than a recurring villain. Besides…” Reaper suddenly spun in the air, lifting his blades in front of him.

CLANG!

A long, silvery blade collided with his twin daggers, spinning over his head and embedding itself just a few inches away from Elliot’s left foot. The orca, even though he was protected by his shield and armour, still staggered back in surprise.

Across the street, standing on a rooftop was a tall, powerfully built crocodile. The leather-skinned man was dressed in tight, figure-hugging tights with what appeared to be a labcoat of a similar colour draped over his shoulders. The glimmer of metal shone within the seams of coat. The man’s muddy-green scales were like armour with his crocodilian features set to being severe. Harsh, yellow, reptilian eyes glared at Reaper from across the street, corded muscles fed by subtly hidden veins beneath the leathery hide. Not a single strand of hair was left on his enormous, scaly body and even Elliot, who stood more than eight feet tall, looked small compared to the crocodile.

Beside the man was a small army of similarly built men. Each was a crocodile, their flesh of differing shades of yellow to green. Some had teeth sticking out from their powerful jaws. All were dressed in the same figure-hugging white spandex but without the labcoat. Varying blades of different shapes and sizes were hanging from their waists or latched onto their shoulders. One of them even held an enormous scalpel as if it were a polearm. From the corner of his eye, Jacob noticed the presence of other blade-wielding crocodiles creeping up onto the rooftop. It was a good thing he had evacuated the building well beforehand.

“Wait…” Leon began, taking a step back. Zeus, his mechanical bird, spread its wings from where it was perched on his shoulder. “Is… Is that…?”

“Doctor Wesley Cutter,” Elliot supplied. “The vigilante known as ‘Scalpel’.”

Vigilantism was common place in a world of superheroes but it was still not tolerated. Anyone who operated outside of the government or a sanctioned superhero organisation was considered a vigilante. Their activities were not insured and they were unhindered by a code of ethics. Scalpel took that to heart as he trained his body and mind over the years. Sick of being forced to operate on criminals he knew were guilty just so that they could stand trial only to be let free by sleazy lawyers, Wesley Cutter had taken to murdering his patients under the guise of the Scalpel. Armed with a variety of cutting implements, an eidetic memory Earthling anatomy and a body honed from three years training with a group of assassins during a work ‘sabbatical’, the Scalpel was eventually flagged as a D-class supervillain after a string of murders. All that without any superpowers.

Of all those that had escaped alongside Salazar Shin and the Gimp, the Scalpel was probably the most dangerous.

“They’re deploying two members now?” growled Samson, his teeth elongating into fangs. “They must really want those PEBs to go off.”

“I honestly don’t think so,” Jacob chuckled. “If they did, they wouldn’t have set a timer on them. They would’ve just detonated the bombs without waiting. Unless they’re just playing into the supervillain cliches for the sake of it. At least that’s how I would’ve done it.”

“Don’t give them any ideas!” barked Elliot. He stormed forward, placing himself near the edge of the rooftop and pointed accusingly at Scalpel. “You’re a doctor! What happened to your Hippocratic Oath!? How could you put all these people at risk and hurt them!?”

Scalpel scoffed and folded his thick, scaly, meaty arms behind his back, pacing back and forth along the edge of the opposing roof. Despite his bulk, the crocodile moved with deadly grace that belied his agility and skill. “The Hippocratic Oath is an archaic guideline that was developed centuries ago to make medical practitioners feel better about themselves. All too often, they hide behind the Oath to justify their actions and the consequences of those actions. Think of it!” He lifted a finger into the air, pointing accusingly at Elliot. “Would you not hold a government official accountable for the actions of his subordinate? Would you not court martial a military general if they gave the order to massacre an entire town? Would you not blame the parent for raising an insolent brat?”

The orca in armour hesitated. “Erm…”

“You would!” barked Cutter. “So why then should we not hold accountable the doctors who stitched up a mob boss? Why would you not blame the physician who pulled the bullet out of the murder’s arm only for that murderer to go killing again? Why would you not arrest the psychologist who cleared the serial killer after ‘therapy’ only for that same killer to regress and kill some more!?” He slammed a big, clawed hand against his wide, muscled chest. “I will not hide behind the Oath. I will not rely on a flawed justice system or an ancient set of guidelines to tell me that a man who had killed dozens of others gets to breathe one more second of life!”

The reptilian vigilante spread his arms wide, showing off broad lats as he did so. “And that is exactly why I joined the Gene Stealers. They are subverting expectations. They are changing the status quo and fixing a broken system! Superpowers for all! No more discrimination! No longer will there be a divide between those with powers and those without! We will all -”

“Have the capacity to kill!” yelled Leon.

Scalpel balked, surprised at the wolf’s accusation.

“All you’re doing is giving everyone bigger guns!” continued the eldest Hale son. “If you don’t teach people how to use their powers, then they’ll more likely misuse them! If this is how you want the world to be, then give people the chance to get powers! Teach them first about them before giving it to them! Don’t just shove it down their throats and hope ‘evolution’ will take care of the rest!”

Scalpel lowered his arms and scoffed. “Naive pup. We’ve wasted enough time chatting.” In one smooth motion, he drew eight scalpels from beneath his coat, holding them each between his fingers. “Your time to stop the PEBs is running short and you still have to find them.”

Jacob bobbed his head from side to side, giving off a faint wince. “Actually, sorry to burst your bubble there, doctor. But I already know where they are.” He pointed at the building right across from him. “You’ve got one right there. Beneath where you’re standing. It’s why I had the team assemble here of all places. There’s another positioned at the eastern docks right next to the Sunrise Bridge. Another is positioned up north in the middle of the ritzy part of town and the last is in the western warehouse district.”

The crocodile’s eyes widened briefly.

“Yeah if you really think you could sneak five weapons of mass destruction under my nose, you’ve got another thing coming,” Jacob chuckled.

“Wait…” Samson began. “Five?”

He glanced towards the Werewolf King and smirked. “Oh yeah. There’s five. Pins and Needles only said four to throw us off. There’s a fifth one hidden with Scalpel’s team which is constantly on the move through the streets.” His dark-blue eyes shifted back towards the horrified crocodile. “Yeah. I know, kiddo. And you wanna know the best part?” A grin crossed his features. “I’m going to go after them one by one.”

Scalpel snarled. “Your overconfidence will be your undoing.”

“Naw. Not really. See, I know what the Gene Stealers want.” He tapped the side of his head. “You want to make a statement. You don’t actually want to kill people. Now that you guys an infect Gen 4s, you want to bring as many supers as possible to West California Island so that you can infect them all as much as possible.” He hiked a thumb in the direction of Sunrise Arena where Arsenal were currently fighting Pins and Needles. “That stunt over there will probably scare off a shit tonne of supers from intervening but when you unleash a PEB, they will be compelled to help.”

Lifting two paws into the air, he shifted them as if he were a pair of scales. “People could argue that the supers were just preventing further infection and averting a disaster by making sure they weren’t infected by sending proxies or sending money. The military could do the damage control. Some would say they’re being cowards but when they see the destruction an infected super can unleash, their voice might just get drowned out. But on the other paw, if world-ending weapons were involved, the cry for help would be far greater. Questions would be asked why a superhero wouldn’t send their best when millions of lives are at stake and a terrorist group has access to WMDs. The heroes of the world would have to act personally or lose face.”

Jacob placed his paws on his hips, smirking. “So with that, I’m going to make a counter statement.” His grin grew broader. “How do you think the world will react if the four of us were able to stop all the PEBs?”

Samson let out a loud, hearty laugh. “West California Island would realise that they’re protected by four of the most powerful men and won’t need anyone’s help! As a representative of the Alpha Pack, I could capitalise on this and extend our power! People would be flocking for my protection!”

“I’d finally be a real hero…” Leon whispered, eyes wide in surprise. “Dad would have to acknowledge me…”

“Same with me,” Elliot gasped. “Except for the daddy issues. I don’t need the approval of my old man to know I’ve got a big dick.”

Ignoring the foul stare Leon threw Elliot, Jacob tilted his head to the side, grinning right at a horrified Scalpel. “Well Doctor? What do you think? Are you a gambling man? Think you can stop us from disarming all those bombs in… I dunno…” He flicked up his phone and checked the time. “An hour and forty-five minutes?”

Scalpel scoffed and spat on the ground. “Big words from someone who is surrounded.”

“Naive words from someone how has no idea what I’m capable of.” Jacob flipped the two daggers in his paws deftly. “Especially with Sol Dualis.”

“Sol Dualis, huh?” Elliot whispered. “Latin. Roughly translates to ‘Two Suns’. Twin Suns?”

The leading crocodile let out a grunt as his fellow Sharpened as Jacob decided to dub them armed themselves with those dangerously sharp implements. “Beta Team! Attack! Don’t let them anywhere near the PEB!”

The ten reptiles on Jacob’s building advanced, charging forward while those perched next to Scalpel began throwing their blades at them. Samson immediately turned and seized the closest Sharpened. The werewolf king easily lifted the man off the ground and flung him in the direction of the bladed weapons flying towards him. The crocodile’s thick hide resisted the weapons, merely bouncing off the dark green flesh and that left the Sharpened to merely embed two swords into the side of the building and haul himself up a second later. Elliot’s ungainly form and massive stasis gun scattered a few of the Sharpened but they were quickly closing in, slicing and dicing at the Orca’s shields. Leon had vanished but a crack shot from the next building over revealed the sniper’s presence but that only allowed two of the Sharpened next to Scalpel to start blindly throwing silvery blades in that direction. They weren’t aiming to hit; just distract.

A kunai came hurtling towards Jacob’s head and Scalpel had enough time to catch the blonde-haired wolf’s grin before -

Clang!

Jacob flicked one of his fiery blades at the weapon, knocking it aside. The instant he did, he jumped back. A flaming silhouette of himself was left behind, mirroring the movement of blocking the kunai. That fiery shadow suddenly turned and blocked another blade that was heading towards Elliot with a solid copy of Sol Dualis.

Clang!

The instant the knife hit the projectile, the copy split off into another two copies.

Clang!

And behind the two, Jacob blocked the assault from a Sharpened with a longsword. The instant their blades hit, Jacob slipped backwards, leaving behind a flaming clone that held his position. That let him slip by the crocodile’s guard and deliver a blistering slash to the reptile’s flank.

All too late Scalpel realised he had made his first grave error.

“Stop firing! Stop firing now!”

Far too late.

There were at least three dozen projectiles hurtling towards them and that gave Jacob and his clones ample opportunity to forcibly throw themselves in the path of the flying blades and block them with Sol Dualis. Each successful block immediately produced another fiery copy. Each copy then proceeded to engage one of the melee-based crocodiles, not attacking but simply aiming to block. Within twenty seconds, the number of clones suddenly outnumbered the Sharpened and they all formed a defensive circle around the four members of Assault.

“Stop attacking!” Scalpel bellowed. The Sharpened didn’t need the command as they wisely took a step back from the circle of flaming wolves.

“What now?” Samson snarled, his hands morphing into claws though his features remained human. “We’re at an impasse. They’re not going to attack but they’re just going to keep us pinned down no matter how many of your clones you produce.”

Jacob’s grin never faded as he approached the edge of the building once more. “What was that you said about subverting expectations, Doctor?” he shouted. He suddenly slammed the two hilts of Sol Dualis together. “If my intel is correct, the PEB is in the basement of that building you’re in right now. I’m pretty sure I can hit you all without actually detonating it.”

“What!?” exclaimed Elliot.

He pulled the two blades of Sol Dualis apart, revealing a flaming arch between them. He gripped the centre of the arch, holding it up to shoulder height and then pulling at an invisible drawstring from the burning bow. Suddenly, each of his fiery clones lost their forms, transforming into streams of flame that immediately came shooting towards the bow; particularly to form a scintillating arrow.

Scalpel’s features fell.

“Oh fuck…”

Jacob let the arrow loose.

BOOM!

Half of the entire building exploded in a burst of flames, ash and smoke. The Sharpened around Jacob gawked at the sheer destructive power and how easily he had devastated their Original. Their shock gave Leon an opening. Bolts of blue energy slammed into their frames, immediately freezing them in place. Samson pounced as well, cracking two crocodile’s heads together in one blow and knocking them unconscious. Elliot managed to shoot one down while the rest were taken care of by Leon.

Jacob’s chain wings unfurled from behind him accompanied by a flaming aura produced by Sol Dualis. He easily glided over to the flaming wreckage, descending into the basement where the PEB remained unharmed. The Sharpened lay burned and bloodied around him but they were all thankfully alive. If Scalpel had been paying attention, he would have noticed that Jacob had been aiming at the building not him. That sent the rooftop and subsequent floors crashing down around the Sharpened and Original but left them mostly untouched by the flames.

He strode calmly towards the PEB.

Scalpel lay to the far back of the room, gasping and gagging against the smoke while the regenerative abilities granted to him by his mutation began repairing his broken body.

Jacob broke apart Sol Dualis back into its twin daggers and then stabbed the blades into the long, cylindrical bomb that looked a lot like an enlarged pipe bomb. Metal, wires and electrical equipment immediately began to melt, turning the device into a glowing, red puddle right in front of him.

He snatched the daggers back up and waggled one finger at Scalpel.

“That’s one.”

******

“We’ve got one down,” announced Elliot, sending a wave of relief through Caleb’s heart. “Fuck me. Roman is showing no mercy!”

Barricaded in one of the locker rooms, a small collection of supers and Arsenal were gathered with some civilians. Siren, Shockstorm and a few key members of the Elemental Alliance were with them. There was no sense of security, however, as each second the passed was another second where Pins and Needles’ Fused made more and more mutated otters with a penchant for getting really close to someone. What made things worse was that the twin otters were now broadcasting the horrific scenes on all the screens and replaying Caleb and the Alliance’s retreat. The few heroes that had remained were quickly overwhelmed and the duo were enjoying showing each and every one of their transformations in graphic detail.

“What’s he talking about?” Siren demanded.

Caleb looked up from his phone. “Jake is out in the field. He’s taking down the PEBs one at a time.”

“He knew, didn’t he?” barked the doberman. “He knew that the Gene Stealers were preparing this and he let it happen!”

It was hard to justify why Jacob would know about the Gene Stealers’ actions and still let it happen. The No One’s warning rang through his head. It all came down to David’s decision to go ahead with the tournament despite those warnings. Caleb resisted the urge to place the blame on his dad and straightened.

“We can ask Jake about it later,” he insisted. “Right now, we need to think about how to get out of here, save as many people as possible and stop the bombs from our end.”

“No!” Siren surged forward, seizing Caleb by his collar and easily lifting him off the ground. “We have let Reaper get away with too many things far too often! He needs to be held accountable for what he’s done!”

David came charging forward but Caleb immediately held up his paw, stopping his dad in his tracks.

“So do you want to go bitching and moaning about it right now where he can’t hear you?” Caleb asked, his eyes deadpan and accusing. “Or do you want to take some fucking responsibility for your own faults and help us figure a way out of this mess?”

“My faults?” Her voice was shrill and angry but beneath it all, Caleb could see how Siren really felt; scared. She was on the cusp of being transformed again. They were trapped with Gene Stealers and whatever had occurred back in Canada had scarred even the experienced hero. Lashing out and blaming someone else was just her defensive mechanism.

“I won’t point out all the things you’ve done wrong in the past,” Caleb said evenly. “Not here in front of everyone.” He gestured towards those around him; at the young supers looking to their leaders for direction, at the civilians hoping for protection and even at rivals who begrudgingly respected her. That got her to remember they were still in the middle of a crisis and slowly let him down. “We need to work together to figure out how we’re going to defeat Pins and Needles.”

“And I suppose we should be following your leadership in this?” she spat. “The supposed ‘expert’ on the Gene Stealers? Your expertise didn’t predict this, did it?”

“Doesn’t matter if I did or didn’t.” Caleb turned his back to Siren, addressing everyone in the room. “Look, I know you’re all scared. The Gene Stealers really got the drop on us and are upping the ante with those bombs out there. But that’s exactly what they want. They’re preying on our fear. They want you scared. They want you to fear for your very genetics and way of life. They want to ruin your lives so that you’d have no other choice but to go to them for a solution. But the first step to defeating them is to realise that getting your genes mixed up, being turned into a horny otter out there, it isn’t the end of the world!

“It isn’t a death sentence. This is an F in Maths, this is a broken leg, a really bad case of the flu. You’re going to feel like you’re dying or that it’s hopeless but it isn’t. You will get stronger and this will make you better. It’s just like Mrs. Hale said. We need to work together on this. Even if you’re down, we will help you. And that is how we beat the Gene Stealers.” He jammed a finger towards the ground. “When you take away that fear, they have nothing on you.”

“But what do you expect us to do?” chimed up one of the ushers that had managed to escape. “Most of us don’t even have superpowers.”

“You don’t need superpowers.” Caleb nodded towards one of the nearby lockers. “Grab a bat. Wheel out one of those automatic baseball machines. Set fire to something. It doesn’t matter. You’ve got your own hands and paws. You can fight.” He gave them all an encouraging smile. “You don’t need to have superpowers to be super.”

A few cautious glances were exchanged. They were still not convinced.

Then, Lillian Hale got up, yanked an aluminium bat from one of the lockers and stared Caleb right in the face. “Is it safe to say that given they’re all extremely hormonal, hitting their genitals would be the best option to incapacitate them?”

Caleb grinned. “That’d be my advice, yes.”

“What about the women?” asked someone.

Lillian swung the bat over her shoulder and flashed that person a grin. “I guess these bats will serve as proof that the female orgasm does exist.”

Caleb made to notes from that. First, his mom was pretty badass. Two… eeew.

“If you’ve still got doubts,” he said, reaching for his mom’s bat. “Let me help you with that.”

The entire aluminium length was encased in glowing, blue-white light, ethereal. There was an all-engulfing darkness yet Caleb didn’t fear or feel cold. Everything was swallowed in the void save for him and the shining light that was the bat. Strings of light erupted from the bat, shooting off into the distance and striking crystalline structures, each containing a weapon. Each crystal spawned its own streams and one by one, the darkness became illuminated by a vast lattice of light and crystals.

It was strange but Caleb felt that one of the crystal was just… more right than the others. He peered in its direction, squinting in the darkness. Then he grinned and send the ethereal blue flame that shot from the bat towards that sole crystal in the distance. It wasn’t a direct route. He had to pass other checkpoints, other weapons, along the way and he had to fight to ensure that the flame kept on the optimum path. Any variation send him careening the wrong way and then he’d have to correct the path. Each crystal he hit caused more of the strings to snap and disappear. He only had a set number of moves to make it to the one he wanted but there was a path, several in fact, and as he drew closer, his heart swelled in excitement.

The blue flame struck the crystal and he physically let go of the weapon. The darkness vanished and he was back in the locker room. His mother brought up the bat which was still very much a bat only it was now completely black and had a strange grip around her paw which looked like webbed wings.

“Give it a swing, M -” he cut himself off before he revealed that he was related to mayoral candidate, Lillian Hale. “Mrs. Hale.”

Smiling, Lillian gripped the bat over her shoulder and then swung it at an empty wall. The screech of a thousand bats erupted from the weapon and a cloud of black, gaseous bats burst out in a wave from her swing. The struck the wall with enough force to cause the concrete to shudder and crack.

“Holy shit!” Lars exclaimed, grinning broadly. “We can beat them! Weapons Master just needs to make a weapon for everyone!”

“You’re going to recruit civilians to fight for you?” barked Siren. “That goes against everything the Elemental Alliance stands for! It goes against everything being a hero means!”

Lillian slammed the bat into the ground, a small cloud of bats swirling around her before vanishing a few seconds later. “Maybe that’s exactly what we need. The Gene Stealers are challenging us to change but they are forcing us to chance to their tune. Let’s take evolution into our hands!” She thrust the bat into the air. “Just one step for all!”

“Just one step for all!” came the echoing cry not only from the civilians who were willing to fight but from supers as well.”

“We need to stand united against them!” Lillian cried. “We can’t just let the supers fight our battles for us! We will support them! That’s our friends and family getting attacked out there! We won’t let you carry this burden alone! We won’t let you get transformed into sex-crazed otters by yourself! We fight together and we fail together!”

“Just one step for all!”

Siren took a step back, gawking and shaking her head, utterly stunned. “But… but…”

“To those of you who don’t want to fight,” Caleb announced, turning his back towards Siren. “The Hound of Destruction can offer you a place to stay safe until it’s clear.”

Rhia tsked in his earpiece. “Put me on the spot, why don’t you. After all my development and training from being infected, I can only maintain my pocket dimension for about thirty minutes. I can’t guarantee they’ll be entertained in there either. I’ll be entertained but they won’t be.”

A quick glance towards Mary and she opened a psychic channel to the Hound.

“I know, Rhia. Try not to traumatise them. If anything, they’ll be out of the way. Thirty minutes is enough time for us to at least clear them a path to escape.”

“Look at you, all grown up and taking charge. You’re get me all hot and wet, Caleb.”

Without further complaint, an orb of darkness appeared beside him. Hocus, a magical expert, immediately jumped in surprise and the owl leaned towards the portal, confirming that it was some sort of pocket dimension.

“You’ve had the Hound of Destruction working with you this entire time!?” Siren screeched. “What else have you been keeping for us!? How can we trust you if you’ve kept all of this to yourself!?”

Shockstorm rested a paw on her shoulder, giving her an encouraging smile. “Perhaps it’s time we change, dear,” he said gently. “Arsenal isn’t the one that’s too outrageous or radical for us. It is we who are out of date and need changing. The tides are turning and either we sail into the storm and drown or we go with it.” He nodded encouragingly towards Caleb. “I’ll need one of those things too, if you don’t mind. Preferably something that helps conduct electricity.”

The encouragement from the super made him grin and he threw Shockstorm a thumbs up. “Coming right up!”

******

Noah Alberich, the supervillain known as ‘Needles’, watched with barely contained boredom as his teams of highly-trained henchmen swept the stadium one wing at a time. It was just barely thirty minutes into the foray and most of the citizenry had already been transformed. There were pockets of escapees, of course, but that wouldn’t be the case for very much longer. It helped that most of the superheroes that had opted to compete in this debacle of a tournament had been changed and they were now using their powers to merge and transform others.

Not far behind him, his brother, Peter, was enjoying himself while partially merged with a particularly beefy super-turned-otter. Peter was jutting out from between the otter’s massive pectorals, his body partially squeezed by those enormous mountains while his his fingers had fused with the super’s nipples. Every little twist from the smaller otter caused the super to squirm and spasm, cum flying out of his massive dick.

“I wonder where those supers went,” Noah mused. Up here in the commentator’s box, he had an unobstructed view of most of the stadium. With the various screens set up around the deck, he could observe everything else that was obscured from his vision. Beneath him, one of the former commentators moaned. Noah’s foot was fused with the guy’s back. He would flex his calf and the guy’s cock would straighten and spasm, sending rockets of pleasure throughout his entire body. He was completely in control, the sap beneath him completely enthralled by the waves of pleasure that he constantly exuded as he stroked his own dick and directed the sensations directly into the man.

“Don’t worry about them,” chuckled Peter. “If they don’t come out of their own volition, the timer will force them to.”

It had been the Scalpel’s plan to use the tournament to their advantage. The keen tactical mind and acute understanding of psychology had masterminded the entire thing. Pins and Needles were given free reign as long as they kept the supers sequestered in the arena. The Elemental Alliance had been foolish enough to pull the majority of their faculty and students into preparing for the tournament. There were so few people to disarm the bomb.

Then again, those that were there…

“Fuck! Damnit!

Noah pulled himself from his pleasure even though the man fused to his foot was mindlessly pleasuring himself and sending his own waves of pleasure at him. He reached over to the communicator and flicked it on. “Doctor? Is everything okay?”

“No, goddamnit! It isn’t!”

A look of concern crossed his features. The thuds of heavy footsteps heralded Peter’s approach, still fused with the titanic super but fully in control of every nerve, muscle and bone in the lust-addled otter. While the super was mindlessly stroking himself, Pins had hijacked everything else.

“What’s going on?” asked his brother.

“It’s fucking Reaper! He nuked Beta Team and is now assaulting the second PEB! I’m trying to get to him but it sounds like the half of Delta Team that I left there can’t hold him off!”

It had been Scalpel’s hope that Reaper would have joined the tournament but given that he hadn’t, the mastermind had deployed his henchmen and himself in the hopes of stalling Legion. It seemed that they had severely underestimated the black wolf.

“What’s worse, he knows about the last PEB.”

That was incredibly alarming. Again, Scalpel had ensured that Pins and Needles would only reveal the presence of four of the PEBs so even if Reaper had managed to disarm the four, the fifth and final one would still be a surprise and go off. That would ultimately bring victory to the Gene Stealers. They would now be a global phenomenon and their entire planet would be their stage. Needles had been excited at the prospect of finally get on the A-list of supervillainy but it seemed that there were complications.

“How did he find out about it?” Peter asked. “No one else should have known.”

“Maybe it’s just as our mole said,” Noah supplied. “Reaper can now tell the future to some degree.”

“That shouldn’t matter!” snapped Scalpel. “He’s not omniscient nor is he omnipotent! We can still win this! Proceed to Plan B.”

The two otters exchanged glances and grins.

“We were hoping you’d say that,” giggled Peter, extracting himself from the super. His body emerged from the super’s chest, a sound like thick, viscous goo sloshing filling the commentator’s box. Pins seamlessly pulled his paws from the bigger otter’s nipples, the addled male immediately falling to his knees as the sensation was akin to having a mind-blowing orgasming many times over. As Pins’ lower body emerged from the mountainous chest, his own erect dick pushing out between those pectorals, the otter couldn’t help but take advantage of his fleeing control over the super’s body and bounce those pectorals; squeezing down on his emerging dick. As his legs began to emerge, the super was overcome by that blind-blowing ecstasy that he fell on his back and began violently ejaculating all over the screens.

Noah watched with fascination, stroking his own cock as he brother stepped out from the unconscious super. Seeing his need, Peter padded over to his brother, cupping Noah’s cheeks and planting their lips together. Peter’s paw wrapped around his own and they finished off Noah’s orgasm, sending both him and the commentator moaning in pleasure. Noah pulled his foot from the man beneath him and, one arm wrapped around his brother’s waist.

Their smiles quickly faded when several figures came rushing out of the southern entrance to the arena. A few of them were flying, clearly denoting them as supers. It was easy to make out the figures of Shockstorm and Siren amongst those that were airborne. Noah didn’t give them much mind. The Fused had prepared exactly for this eventuality. Alpha Team were hiding amongst the huge stadium lights and scaffolding, well aware from the crazed otters that had been their victims but still within range of the emerging supers. One such otter leapt out from behind one of the big screens, barrelling straight towards Shockstorm with arms outstretched. Someone shouted a warning towards the Doberman and he flung around. But it was much too late to do anything. The Fused was right on top of him.

Peter licked his lips, cock still rock hard. Already, Noah could envision what kind of depraved scenes were playing through his brother’s head - he had them as well.

Then Shockstorm did something unexpected.

The Doberman’s form exploded into a dizzying array of tiny stars and the otter was forced to just grasp at the air like an idiot before crashing tot he ground. To his credit, the Fused landed in a perfect superhero crouch. Too bad he landed right in the midst of several supers. Huge metal plates immediately erupted around him, closing in around the otter and locking him into a steel cocoon. Above him, Shockstorm’s body reformed from those shimmering particles.

“Since when could he do that!?” demanded Noah.

“I don’t think he’s the only one that’s learned a few new tricks…” Peter warned.

Alpha Team were emerging from their hiding spots and advancing upon the supers but those very same supers revealed techniques that completely caught them off guard. Siren thrust her paws at a member of the Fused and thick, silver chains came launching out from something mounted on her wrists. Those chains acted like serpents and tied up the otter from the neck down and left him struggling and squirming on the ground. Hocus, the owl sorceror, slammed a shield that was mounted on his right arm into the ground and a shimmering dome of green-blue energies immediately formed around him. The otter that had pounced at him slammed hard into the force field only for the owl to spin towards him and level his staff at the henchman. Both Pins and Needles winced as a blast of lightning erupted from the staff and send the henchman flying. Not too far away, Nightfox flung what appeared to be a whip made of white elastic that snapped at a Fused’s ankles. Laces like those on sneakers manifested around his toes and sent him tumbling as his calves were bound together. With a few more cracks of the whip, those same laces hogtied the otter.

Pins and Needles came to the exact same conclusion at exactly the same time.

“Weapons Master.”

The bane of the Gene Stealers had equipped the seasoned supers with weapons from wherever they were hiding. Alpha Team had been trained to counter each of the super with their original powers not these randomised artifacts!

Clever… but those weapons would not last forever.

“Alpha Team,” Pins began, speaking into the communicator.

“… hang back and let the infected citizens take care of them,” finished Needles. “Once they’ve exhausted their supplies of Weapons Master’s devices, give them a hug.”

“Uh… We’ve got a different problem over here!”

Noah’s brow furrowed. “What? Beta Team?”

“It’s the civilians! The ones that Weapons Master escaped with!”

“What about them?” growled Pins.

“They have weapons too!”

Both Peter and Noah exchanged concerned glances.

“We need to get down there,” they announced in unison.

******

Caleb let out a thunderous roar, swinging the huge hammer with the head shaped like a football into the ground. A tidal wave of brown and white footballs blasted out of the earth, sweeping over the Beta Team otters in front of him and carrying them a few feet back, bruised and confused but otherwise unharmed. A mysterious announcer exclaimed ‘touchdown!’ somewhere. The lean figure of his Lillian Hale in her red pantsuit came charging past him, swinging her black bat-bat right into the otter’s face. He was still amazed that his own mother would take the field like this and he was fighting every instinct to pull her back. When a swarm of bats exploded from the impact, fangs and claws tearing into the otter’s face, he was suddenly grateful that he didn’t arm her more often.

All around him, the few civilians that they had escaped with alongside a few supers and the rest of Arsenal were charging down the hallways of Sunrise Stadium, each of them wielding weapons he had crafted for them. The otters were all trained for hand-to-hand combat with their greatest asset being their ability to merge with others and transforming them. With so many people armed with weapons none of them were ready for, however, they were being pushed back and forced to retreat.

“Be careful!” Mary shouted, carrying a big, golden spear with a working clock just before the spearhead in one hand and in the other a purple, psionic blade. “The ‘Fused’ still have some of Pins and Needles’ original powers! They can infect you by merging with you but they can dull your senses and catch you unawares!”

That made sense. Pins and Needles had the ability to induce that awful sensation when one’s limbs fall asleep. The Fused likely developed that further to affect people’s senses. They could effectively sneak up on someone and give them a damning hug.

Thank whatever god was listening Mary could use her powers to read their minds.

“Everyone stay close!” he barked. “Watch each other’s backs!”

Ben suddenly appeared beside him, fangs bared into a big, wolfish grin. He was equipped with two shoulder-mounded cannons that suspiciously looked like a pair of lockers strapped to a metal harness. On his command, the top of those lockers sprang open and started spitting out balls of compressed dirty underwear and discarded uniforms. A sickly green pile of jockstraps slammed into a Fused’s face and the poor guy fell back, coughing, spluttering and eventually vomiting at the scent. Another was smacked on the forehead by a football helmet flying at mach-speeds.

“You know, I think I could get used to you being in command,” laughed the werewolf, turning quickly. Caleb instinctively ducked as those lockers swung over his head. He turned in the direction that Ben had just turned and swung his football-hammer, sending another wave of footballs flying in the direction of Beta Team. At the same time, Ben unleashed a barrage of cleats tied together at the shoelaces that acted a lot like bolas.

“You mean you’d actually offer your ass to me if I became a werewolf and your Alpha?”

Ben threw him a coy grin and waggled his eyebrows. “You seriously considering it?”

“We’ll talk after.”

The Beta Team fused quickly realised that they were outgunned and began retreating. Caleb shouted for the team to advance. The vanguard which mostly consisted of Arsenal charged forward while the artillery led by Lars followed afterwards. The support team quickly used their weapons to restrain the Fused with Madman supervising.

“Seven members of Beta Team are down,” Mary announced through their psychic link. “That leaves thirteen of them retreating. One team is being engaged by the supers. That’s two more teams that are unaccounted for.”

“We need to be careful,” warned Bren, holding what could only be considered a tommygun with a distinct whistle-like magazine. “If it were me, I’d be retreating to lead us into a trap.”

“Then we go the other way,” Caleb concluded, immediately spinning around. “Okay folks! That way!” he shouted, pointing the way they came.

Though he got a few confused looks, everyone obeyed and they quickly traded places, once again the majority of Arsenal taking the lead. Like most stadiums, the circular nature of the tunnels worked to their advantage as they would eventually cover the same ground. With the supers including Lance and his dad taking care of the majority of the infected out in the open, Caleb’s team was able to clear the tunnels to get to their ultimate goal: Pins and Needles and the commentator’s box. Mary’s psionic powers had discerned that was where they had to go to avert this disaster.

The entire stadium shook slightly, dust particles raining down from above. He guessed that some super unleashed something really big. Good. They were the distraction and if they could restrain as many infected and keep them away from the tunnels, so much the better. That didn’t stop the occasional otter from wandering in, though, but they were quickly taken care of by Caleb’s army.

The sound of shouting quickly echoed down the hall. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the familiar blue and gold of the West California High Raptors barely holding off a horde of muscled otters from behind a hotdog stand. He resisted the urge to call out to the big moose who was beating the grabby, webbed paws with packets of ketchup and charged forward.

“Coming through!” he bellowed, leaping into the air. The cry caught the attention of the otters who all turned in time for him to slam his hammer into the ground. A circular wave of footballs burst from the ground, knocking the otters to the ground and leaving a few obstacles for them as they struggled to get back to their feet. Caleb immediately vaulted over the counter of the hotdog stand and grabbed the first thing he could; the hotdog warmer.

White-blue light wreathed the machine. In his mind’s eye, he saw the network of crystals. This was far more difficult since the warmer wasn’t inherently a weapon so the choices were far more obscure. He settled on one knowing that he already had such little time. As soon as he opened his eyes, the light and feathers coalesced into a big, long greatsword with a silver blade and a pink, sausage-shaped cross-guard. With the blade in one hand and his hammer in the other, he slammed both weapons down into the counter, shattering the barrier but simultaneously unleashing a wave of footballs and hotdogs swimming in brine at the confused otters.

That bought him a few seconds which he used to push the sword into Gerard’s hands.

“Swing and try to avoid any dick jokes,” was all he said before he grabbed a mustard bottle and channelled his powers through it. Ben and Mary led the charge that collided with the swarm of otters, pushing them back out into the main arena. Gerard quickly joined them while Caleb armed each and every one of his teammates with a weapon. Keith got the mustard gun that fired strings of acid-like mustard capable of eating through metal yet strangely left flesh burning like it had been dipped in hot sauce.

“This is so cool!” exclaimed the groundhog, firing the gun with both paws at a charging otter. The otter screamed, clutching its face and falling to the ground, writhing. “It’s like being an actual superhero!”

“Weapons Master makes us all super!” exclaimed Gerard.

There was a flash of amusement from Lillian’s eyes. No doubt she would use that in her campaign later.

“Everyone! Form up!” Caleb shouted. “We need to get to the commentator’s box. That’s where Pins and Needles are and where we can disarm the bombs!”

A light, almost childish chuckle strangely cut through the roars of the otters.

To the right stood one of the twins, naked safe for their fur but otherwise without an escort. To the left stood the other twin, effectively catching them between two Gen 5s and the horde of civilians-turned-otters trying to muscle their way from the arena.

“That’s so adorable,” chuckled one of the twins. He couldn’t tell which one it was. “You’ve rallied the troops, given them weapons and are trying to fight back!”

“It’s quite inventive,” continued the other. “But you sent the ones trained to fight in such situations out to deal with the horde while those who are clearly scared are right here trying to keep from pissing themselves.”

“You can’t hope to defeat professional villains like us.”

“Professional!?” scoffed Ben. “Bitch, you’re nothing but a D-level wannabes that lucked out because the Gene Stealers took pity on you. If I wanted to, I’d make the blood burst from your fucking eye sockets!”

The win laughed softly and spread his arms wide. “Oh, but you don’t know the true extent of our powers, do you?”

The other took up sentence. “We don’t just merge with people and transform them. We completely take over their bodies, their entire nervous system. So much so that we can actually reshape their bodies into our own image!”

Caleb’s heart plummeted.

“You’re all trying so hard not to kill people,” said one of the twins. “Even our Beta Team members are being restrained and not outright killed.”

“That’s because you know deep down that they aren’t at fault. That you’re sympathetic to their plight. That’s been Lillian Hale’s entire platform. To understand those that have been affected by supervillains. You can’t just kill them for fear they’ll become a villain themselves. You need to understand them, right?”

A childing laugh made all the more chilling by the fact that both twin laughed at exactly the same time rang in Caleb’s ears.

“So now you’ve got to ask yourself…” one twin said, raising a finger towards Ben.

“… dare you take the risk of killing us when we are inhabiting the body of someone else?”

“Cowards!” Bren snarled, showing the first flashes of emotion since Caleb had known the superspy. “You’re hiding behind the bodies of those that you’ve held captive!”

“What can we say…?” began a twin.

“… we’re villains. It’s what we do.”

An impasse. There was no way to get at Pins and Needles while they were inhabiting the body of someone else. Then again, they could be bluffing.

“Mary?” he asked through their psychic connection.

“They’re telling the truth. It’s faint but I do detect a highly suppressed mind behind their bodies. Someone definitely is in there.”

“Crap…”

One of the otters places a paw on their hips. “And that just leaves us with the advantage, now doesn’t it?”

“Because we can do everything we want to you… and you can’t do anything to us!”

Gwen’s words came back, echoing in the back of Caleb’s mind.

“Learn to fight outside the box. You are being bound again by the norms of conventional fighting. You face an opponent with exactly the same weapon as you? Throw your weapon at them and then maul them with your fangs! Someone comes at you with a gun and all you have is a knife? Stab yourself, pretend you’re dead and then stab him in the femoral artery! turns your friends and family into elephants? Nuke his fucking face!”

Caleb made a show of dropping his hammer. The Raptors gawked and kept that expression through to when he grabbed a pair of tongs and a knife. He strode through the broken counter, channelling his powers through both utensils, blue-white light streaming from his paws and a flurry of ethereal white feathers cascading from behind him. The bread knife in his left paw became a silvery crossbow with an automatic-loading magazine attached. The tongs in his right transformed into a long, thin, two-pronged sword. One of the Twins caught his movement, that cocky smirk fading as Caleb levelled the crossbow at him.

Twang!

A long, serrated crossbow bolt shot from the crossbow’s arch quickly followed by another and another in rapid succession. The otter supervillain had about a second to dodge aside to avoid being skewered. The bolts slammed hard into the far wall, the serrated edges digging deep into the concrete and leaving cracks.

“Weapons Master!?” Lars bellowed. “What are you doing?”

“Confirming a theory,” Caleb responded, spinning towards the other twin and swinging his sword in their direction. A sudden force seemed to seize the otter and send him flying a few feet forward straight towards the grim-faced wolf. The Gene Stealer let out a loud scream as Caleb’s blade pierced the man’s shoulder. It wasn’t a deep wound but one that still drew blood.

Bren came rushing towards him, seizing his shoulder. “Stand down! Didn’t you hear what they said! They’ve possessed someone!”

“And they’ve completely taken over that someone’s nervous system,” Caleb responded grimly, releasing his sword. “That means the person they possessed can’t feel pain anymore. They feel the pain.”

There was a second of stunned silence as the scene replayed in everyone’s heads. Pins or Needles, whichever one Caleb had skewered, had actually screamed. They had felt the pain Caleb had inflicted upon him.

“And here’s the kicker,” Caleb concluded. He suddenly lashed out, seizing the otter’s face in his big paw. “They can’t jump bodies and fuse with me because they know if they do, my cells will find a counter to the transformation. They’ve always said that I needed a part of an Original and an Original Serum to make the cure but all of that is wrapped into a nice little package right here.” He leaned down, fangs bared at the horrified otter. “So what are you waiting for, little man? Fuse me with me. Prove me wrong and take over my body.”

The look in the smaller man’s eyes spoke volumes. The otter grabbed Caleb’s paw with both hands and twisted his body so that both feet were planted against the wolf’s chest. He kicked off, sending Caleb barrelling into Bren. Even if the supervillain was physically smaller than Caleb, he was still a super and Caleb was just an Outsider. That difference in strength was felt as those bare footpaws nearly collapsed Caleb’s lungs and knocked the wind out of him.

“Needles!” shouted the newly freed otter. With a grimace, he yanked the sword from his shoulder and sent it skidding across the floor. “We need to retreat!”

Caleb grinned as he coughed. “Thanks. That’ll make our job a lot easier.”

Pins frowned at him. “What are you…?”

The supervillain never got to finish as Caleb lifted a paw, revealing the keycard he had snatched from Pins’ neck, the lanyard broken thanks to the force of the villain’s kick. Another moment of stunned silence only broken by Pins grasping at his neck, desperate to confirm what he knew to be true; Weapons Master had stolen their only leverage.

“That was pretty slick,” Bren chuckled, helping Caleb to his feet.

“Something I learned from Gwen,” he coughed, wiping a sliver of blood from the corner of his lips. “Fight unconventionally.”

Pins’ eyes flared up in fury. “Give that back!”

A strange prickling haze suddenly hit Caleb like each of his senses had been assaulted by a wave of static. His vision blurred, sounds became muffled, his tongue felt fuzzy and his entire body felt heavy. It took him a second to realise that this was the twins’ ability to nullify a target’s senses. Too late did he realise that he was now vulnerable to the two otters. He tried to move but there was a delay between what his brain was telling his body to do and how his muscles moved. Worse, he couldn’t tell if he was actually moving!

Thwack!

The sensation suddenly faded, leaving him with a lingering prickling sensation in all his extremities. His vision cleared and he suddenly found himself looking at Lars’ broad back. The Doberman’s fangs were bared and he was looking over his shoulder at Caleb, his eyes gazing down at him apologetically.

“No!” Mary cried mentally.

Caleb didn’t need to know what that cry was for as Pins coyly poked his head out from around Lars, grinning broadly. His paw seized Lars’ arm, his fingers sinking into the Doberman’s taut muscles. Behind him, he heard Madman growl. One look over his shoulder and he saw the big hyena had Needles in a bear hug. The otter was sharing the same grin as his brother, his flesh starting to meld with the snarling hyena.

Pins giggled. “Now…”

“… the fun begins,” finished Needles.

******

Scalpel grunted, crashing to the ground with a heavy thud, his earpiece clattering to the concrete floor of the warehouse in front of him. The crocodile spat, a tooth falling loose and sinking into the bloody puddle. Another tooth quickly took it’s place but the damage to his pride had been done. He glared furiously at the chain-winged wolf that stood a few feet away from him. Around them, member of his Sharpened lay burned, battered and bruised. The orca in the power armour was hunched over the second PEB.

“This… This is unfair,” he growled, propping himself up on his hands and knees. “Unlike the others, I was not born with superpowers. Had I been, we would be on even ground.”

“That’s an excuse if I ever heard any,” scoffed Samson Connors, cracking his knuckles. “None of your henchmen had any superpowers when they were transformed either and frankly, some of them were far more competent than some of your other colleagues. I remember having more trouble with Tibia’s Boneheads than Tibia himself.”

“I am nothing like Tibia!” spat Cutter, rising to his feet. “I fight for justice! Society branded me as a villain because they couldn’t handle the truth behind my actions!” He flicked his wrists, sharp knives appearing in between his fingers. “You supers don’t know how easy you have it!”

He threw the knives in his left hand, sending it hurling towards the two protecting the orca. Bolts of blue light flew in from some unknown direction, striking the blade in midair and encasing them a scintillating blue sphere that froze them in mid-flight.

“No ordinary person could ever shoot four knives out of the air like that!” shouted the former doctor. He flung the knives in his right hand. Both Samson and Reaper easily dodged them with Reaper lazily twisting his neck to the side to avoid the blade flying at his face. “No ordinary person could have dodged those! No ordinary person, let alone ordinary super, would have been able to tell there was a fifth bomb!”

The orca straightened. “Done. It’s disarmed.”

“Let’s go,” Samson grunted, turning around derisively. “This envious leather handbag isn’t worth the effort.”

Reaper held up a paw. “One moment.” He took a step towards Scalpel, the crocodile retreating a step in turn. “Let me tell you something about my ‘foresight’, Doctor. I can switch it on and off. When you see my pupils turn into eight-pointed stars, it means I’m using it.” He pointed at his sapphire-blue eyes. “But when I discerned that there was a fifth bomb, it wasn’t because I used my abilities. Abilities, I’d like to point out, were hard-won through pain and suffering. I learned about it because you told me.”

Scalpel jerked his reptilian head back. “What?”

Connors let out a loud, barking laugh. “Oldest trick in the book. Trick the bad guy into thinking that you know about their secret plan only for them to confirm it with their shock and awe.”

With a grin, Reaper pointed a finger gun at Samson and fired it with a wink and a cluck of his tongue. “Exactly. Face it, Doctor…” Reaper turned his back towards the crocodile. “Four was such a weird number to stop at and in all my experience - and I have a lot of experience - the villain rarely openly advertises the number of bombs they planted without having some sort of contingency. Seriously, any smart villain wouldn’t dangle the keys to the hero’s escape if they were either confident all their traps and minions would deal with them…” He lifted one finger. “… or they had one last ace in the hole that catch the hero off-guard.”

Scalpel grit his fangs together as the trio of Assault bolted out of the warehouse and began searching for the third bomb.

He grabbed the communicator that had dropped on the floor. “Alpha Team, Reaper is headed your way.” None of the remaining members of Beta Team were moving. “Beta Team is down. Gamma Team, keep the package moving.”

This was bad. Alpha Team’s twenty members were split across the two remaining stationary bombs with the entirety of Gamma team guarding the fifth and final bomb. As usual, one team was kept for the purposes of securing an escape route and that would be Delta Team. But Doctor Wesley Cutter was not dumb. He had watched and studied the recordings of the previous fights. Dragon Knight always whisked away one team before everyone could captured. He couldn’t count of Delta Team being there.

No. This would take all of his cunning and skills.

Tibia had been a brash, brutish moron motivated only by a need to be famous and a misguided idea that fate was conspiring against him. The Gimp was a masochist that was driven by the desire to seen greater and more extreme sources of pain. Migraine would have been his equal but had turned out to be a sentimental fool who had transformed into a weak old man the moment he had been relieved of his persistent pain. Pins and Needles were just idiots whose only value was their numbers and close bond, useful for no other reason than a flamboyant distraction.

The Scalpel was a true mastermind. A man who had worked as a respected doctor and moonlighted as a vigilante for years. Only when he had allowed himself to trust others did his identity eventually fall into the hands of the corrupt police. That taught a very important lesson: don’t trust anybody.

With that in mind, he realised he needed some time to recover. Either he headed to the same bomb that Reaper and Assault were going to where his exhaustion would hand the bomb to the omniscient wolf or he go to the other one, rest and recuperate and allow Assault to disarm one bomb. Either way, he would lose on bomb.

Grimacing, he charged out of the warehouse, the tattered labcoat billowing behind him. The newfound strength and mobility of his form allowed him to easily leap halfway up the nearest building before scrambling up to the top, digging his claws into the bricks. He looked to the north. Logistically speaking, the PEB to the north was the closest one. Reaper would logically go for that one. A glance towards the east where the fourth and last stationary bomb was placed placed that into doubt, however. Reaper had a penchant for subverting the norm and it wouldn’t be beyond him to go for the farthest one first in the hopes of disheartening Scalpel and the Sharpened.

That threw another wrench in the Doctor’s analysis. Reaper would try to go for the target that would cause the most impact not only physically but psychologically too. On the one hand, he could very well go for the expected route - the closest one - confusing Scalpel and throwing his own analysis into self-doubt. On the other, he could go for the least-likely one to the same effect.

Wesley Cutter chuckled softly to himself, lightly pinching the bridge of his long, reptilian snout. Communicator still in his hand, he said, “Gamma Team. Where are you now?”

“On the south side of Heartholm Park.”

“Stay there. I’m on my way.”

Let Reaper take the other two bombs. They were lost causes. He knew where they were and he could get to them eventually. If he can get to the moving bomb, he could hide it, secure it and potentially buy them as much time as possible to ensure a successful detonation. As much as he wanted to get Alpha Team out there and the consolidate their forces as the moving bomb, it would look suspicious to Reaper and potentially even lead them to the moving bomb if they saw a bunch of heavy armed crocodiles moving in the same direction.

“Alpha Team, Reaper is likely headed your way. Secure your position and fortify. I’m headed to Gamma Team.”

“Affirmative.”

He turned in the direction of Heartholm Park, leaping from rooftop to rooftop to get towards what many touted was the ‘Central Park of West California Island’. Though nowhere near as big and certainly without its own zoo, Heartholm was a serene patch of green in the urban landscape of the Islands central business district. Often times, the movers and shakers would take some time out of their busy schedules to eat lunch at the park. It was beautiful all year around with at least some trees keeping their leafage even in the dead of winter. Naturally, during fall the changing colours of the deciduous was the main attraction but the evergreen trees even now in the dead of winter offered some metaphor to how life could thrive even in the harshest of conditions; supposedly a parallel to how West California Island grew and developed out in the middle of the ocean.

With the winter snow finally receding, some flecks of green were starting to spawn on the dead, black branches of the trees. The evergreens remained stoic and strong through it all though the rivers and Heartholm Lake remained frozen at least for the moment. Since Pins and Needles had made their announcement, the city was in a degree of panic and the local police was in the process of getting everyone to the emergency evacuation bunkers placed throughout the city in case of Omega-level threats. That left Heartlholm and its surrounding streets mostly empty.

Gamma Team’s leader was cunning and had used a discreet van to hide the PEB while the rest of the team was hidden in the surrounding cars. Most of said cars were currently abandoned. Standard Omega-level procedure was that people abandon their cars and make their way to the nearest shelter on foot. In a city that was technically not part of the mainland, there was a bunker that was positioned every few blocks. Cutter checked the time. Forty-five minutes had passed since the challenge had begun. That was more than enough time for people to clear out so there would at least not be any collateral damage should he battle Reaper here.

With any luck, he could hold off Legion for the remainder of the time.

He landed amongst the cars and quickly rushed towards the van. Gamma Team emerged from their vehicles to greet him.

“Reaper is most likely on his way to one of the other two bombs,” he announced. “Move the PEB into the park. We every advantage as we can get.” Reaper’s current weapon, Sol Dualis, was fire-based and if they could get in the middle of the frozen lake that would work to their advantage. Better yet, all the foliage around them could force Reaper to pull back on his attacks.

Before he could start moving, a paw slapped his shoulder lightly.

He froze as Jacob Reaper strode past him casually, smiling pleasantly.

“What…?” he began.

“Thanks for leading me right to the mobile bomb, Doctor.”

No…

“How? I saw you…”

Reaper turned to him, arms crossed behind his head casually. “You saw me leave the warehouse but you didn’t see where I went. We just hid out back and waited for you to leave.” He tapped the side of his head. “Logical guy like you would know that the other two PEBs would be a lost cause. Wasting time and energy to get to it would have only worn you down and made it easier for me to get here. So I knew someone who micromanages his troops like you would want to get to the moving PEB to make sure it is as secure as possible.”

Played… He had been played!

WHAM!

The huge form of Samson Connors slammed into the roof of the PEB van. The Sharpened scattered away from the werewolf king who stood triumphantly on their payload. “All your skills and intellect were tempered from years of working two lives,” scoffed the leader of the Alpha Pack. “But that’s nothing compared to the experiences of those who have lived through centuries.”

“You talking about me or you there, Samson?” Reaper asked, batting his eyes.

Connors just smirked.

BAM!

Cutter turned. The hulking form of that orca in the power armour blocked his only other exit.

“No one gets past me, asshole!” bellowed the man in the machine.

The only other alternative was to get into the park but no doubt that was where Leon Hale was hiding. With so many perches and the cover of the trees, the stealthy sniper could easily pick them off one by one. Running into the nearby buildings would only serve to trap them and there was still the matter of the PEB.

Perhaps there was another way.

“Men!” he bellowed. “Do not engage them.”

He got confused looks from the Sharpened and even Reaper cocked an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Reaper’s daggers create clones of him that he uses to unleash a devastating attack. The more we attack, the stronger his counterattack. Our goal is to keep him occupied and away from the PEB. So just throw yourself at him! Restrain him and do whatever you can to keep him off the PEB without actually attacking him!”

Legion let out a soft, impressed whistle. “Oooh. Nice one.”

The black and gold wolf in the fluttering blue coat leapt back, dodging away from a lunge from a Sharpened. The crocodile troops were smart enough to read between the lines of Cutter’s words. Reaper may be off-limits in terms of their bladed weapons but not the others. Swords, sharp projectiles and steel polearms were flung at Samson and Elliot. Blue bolts of stasis energies shot out from the trees in the park but the Sharpened had trained for this. They flung their own weapons in the direction of the bolts, catching the stasis shots and keeping themselves from being struck. A few of them even yanked cars off the asphalt and placed them on their sides, forming a makeshift barrier against the sniper.

Scalpel lunged at Reaper, careful not to strike those daggers and just aiming to restrain the wolf. To his credit, Reaper danced between the bigger, bulkier crocodiles. He was fast and those chain wings of his were like another pair of arms that kept the Sharpened at bay. Every second Reaper spent dodging was another second he wasted away from the PEB! Even if he could disarm this PEB, that was less time to get to the others.

They were winning!

“Hey Samson!” Reaper bellowed, suddenly jamming the ‘fingers’ of his chain wings into the ground. He lifted easily into the air, those wings providing surprising support. They were able to carry him over the Sharpened right beside Samson who was trying to keep himself from being hurled off the top of the truck. “Let’s play a game of Patty Cake.”

The werewolf gave him a puzzled look until Reaper flashed those twin, red daggers and tossed him one.

Scalpel’s eyes widened. “Stop them!”

“Patty Cake,” Reaper began, holding one one paw clutching Sol Dualis. Samson grinned and smacked the half of the dagger duo against Reaper’s.

“Patty Cake,” copied Samson. The instant their paws struck, a fiery image of Legion erupted from the wolf and the two immediately jumped off the van, landing on a nearby SUV.

“Baker’s man.”

The Sharpened turned to chase the two who once again struck paws to the rhythm of the clapping game. As they did, that sole fiery image lunged at them, flaming blades singing and leaving the smell of burning leather in the air.

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can.”

The two wolves leapt high into the air, maintaining in tight formation as they slapped Sol Dualis against one another. Arcing over the battlefield, they left a trail of clones who immediately descended upon the confused Sharpened.

“Pat it and prick it and mark it with ‘B’.”

Scalpel thought fast. Would Reaper immediately use the numbers against them or would he assault them with the coup de grace? Too late he realised that the two were leaping around them in a circle, encircling them trapping them around the PEB.

“And put it in the oven for baby and me!”

As soon as they finished the rhyme and the last of the clones were created, Samson tossed Reaper his half of Sol Dualis. Once again, Reaper combined the two blades forming the bow. Samson seized his scruff and threw him high into the air. Scalpel could only watch in horror as the blue-clad wolf spread his wings, looking like an angel of death with a fiery bow in his paws. Each of his clones transformed into fireballs that coalesced at the bow.

“No…” was all Doctor Wesley Cutter could whisper before…

BOOOM!

Scorching heat and terrible flames engulfed him. Fire was everywhere, hot as the sun. He was forced to shut his eyes, the heat was so intense it almost felt like his eyeballs were boiling. A desperate attempt to block his face by crossing his arms did little to keep his forearms from being scorched. The labcoat withered away into ash, his clothes barely surviving a few seconds before they were obliterated in the all-consuming fire.

Yet… there was no pain. No agony of death. Just… the shame of being nude in the call-consuming flames.

That was when he remembered: Reaper was not out to kill him.

He lowered his arms, watching as they passed through the flames like he was dipping his limbs in the rushing waters of a river. A moment of serenity passed over him as he was left alone in the flames; a second of peace that gave him some time to think, to strategise.

“Big mistake, Reaper,” he growled to himself.

The roar of the flames died. As he suspected, Gamma Team lay unconscious. Reaper’s flames had burned away all the oxygen around the crocodiles and maybe even some of those in their lungs. Alive but out of the battle. The cars and vehicles around them had been turned into puddles of metal and plastic. Even the van containing the PEB had been melted away while the device remained untouched. Elliot the orca was already at the device, disarming it.

Naked but still standing, he eyed Reaper who stood casually several feet away from him.

“Is this your attempt to reach out to me?” he snarled. “Are you trying to teach me some cosmic lesson?”

Legion shrugged absently. “Naw, I’m just messing with you. You’re too stubborn to teach. At least right now. Maybe in the next life.”

Cutter scowled and spread his arms out on either side of him. Two, large scalpel-shaped polearms erupted from his flesh. He charged at Reaper, swinging them in the martial arts of the Xaolin Monks he had trained under. Reaper lazily dodged them while Samson looked on with his arms crossed.

“You think your world view, your lessons, your ideals are right? You think that truth, justice and the ‘American way’ is the only perspective worth valuing in this world!?” Cutter thrust a polearm forward. Reaper brushed the weapon aside with Sol Dualis, immediately creating a clone. Reaper himself danced nimbly back, reforming the bow in one smooth movement before recalling the flaming clone towards the arrow.

Two seconds. It took about two seconds before Reaper could make a clone and reform the bow. That was the opening Cutter needed.

The arrow flung through the air, hitting the ground beneath Cutter. The explosion flung him into the air but didn’t burn him. The shockwave was more devastating than the flames. As he suspected, Reaper wasn’t going to kill him with the flames. He landed with a grunt on the asphalt, creating a small crater as he did so.

“You’re so naive!” he bellowed. He jumped to his feet and whirled around two times, each time flinging his polearm at Reaper. The bent his body away from both leaving him open for Scalpel to lung forward, drawing a scalpel the size of his arm and bring it down towards the hero. Reaper blocked it with both blades crossed, his body at an uncomfortable angle. “The only reason you’re even able to enforce your values onto others is because of your power!”

The wolf’s sapphire-blue eyes narrowed at him slightly. “Is that what you honestly believe?” Only then did he split off into a clone, leaving Scalpel to leap back against the fiery apparition.

So the generation of a fire clone was not solely dependent on striking Sol Dualis. Reaper could dictate when it would trigger. Good to know.

Once again, Reaper collected his clone as an arrow and let it fly. Scalpel flung his own blade at the arrow. The two collided in the air, creating a burst of smoke and flame. He summoned a bigger blade, one about half his size and charged right through the flames. He swung it downwards, biting through the air and for Reaper to appear to his side, dagger against his neck.

“It’s the fundamental truth of this world,” snarled Cutter. “History is written by the winners. The rich pull the strings of the politicians. Supers get away with everything. Even villains who have killed hundreds or even thousands are spared because they are called ‘insane’ only to come back and kill even more!”

“So you think that because of all my power, I can make people do what I want?”

Scalpel yanked his sword from the ground and swung it at Reaper. He wasn’t aiming at the wolf, however, and he let go of the blade just as Legion ducked the blow. The sword flung into the woods, slicing through branches and leaves. A string of curses indicated that he had guessed correctly where Leon Hale had been hiding. He quickly summoned another blade and swung it at Reaper who blocked it with his dagger.

“You are supposedly some sort of all-powerful interdimensional entity that can reshape all of reality as he sees fit. You’re lying to yourself if you think people follow the path you set for them for any other reason than the fact that they fear you and know that you will look fondly upon them if they placate you!”

Reaper scoffed and took a step back, this time not creating a clone.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Doctor.” He placed a paw against his chest, still clutching Sol Dualis. “The reason people choose to listen to me is not because I know better. Because I don’t. Only they know themselves. I just try to provide a better environment for them to realise that.”

“Then you’re just delusional!” Cutter roared as he charged forward. He swung at Reaper with a wide, circular swing. Naturally, the wolf dodged backward knowing that the force of the swing would be enough to knock him aside. That gave the Gene Stealer the opportunity to bare his rear towards Reaper and eject a series of blades from his broad, muscled back. The scalpel-shaped blades came too fast and were thrown too close for Reaper to block them all and though he knocked a few aside, some cut into his coat, arms and legs. Reaper barely flinched as he skidded on the ground.

He was slowing. Now the Doctor was in his head.

“No,” Reaper said, straightening. “I just have faith.”

“Faith!?” spat Cutter, spinning once more towards the wolf. “Faith is for those who can’t take their fate into their own hands and needs to rely on some outside force to save them! Faith is for those who need an explanation for all the bad shit that happens to them!” He swung his blade once more and this time, Reaper blocked it, the two of them coming within inches from one another’s faces. “Faith is a crutch.”

There, Reaper scoffed at him. “You think so, huh?”

The wolf placed a foot against his chest and kicked him off.

“Then how about a wager?” Legion asked, sliding both his daggers into scabbards by his side. “I’m not going to go after the other PEBs. In fact…” He looked past Scalpel. “Hey Elliot! Stop disarming the bomb!”

The orca straightened and flung around. “What!?”

Scalpel flinched and stared at the wolf in bewilderment. “What are you doing?”

Reaper crossed his arms and sat down on the ground cross-legged. “Showing you my definition of faith.”

This was some trick. It had to be.

“Explain yourself!” barked Scalpel.

“It’s like this,” Jacob Reaper said. “You know I have the power to stop all those PEBs. With Elliot, Samson and our trust sniper over there, we totally could get to them all well within the…” He flicked out his phone, checking the time. “… fifty minutes we have left. But we won’t. We’re going to sit right here and wait.”

“What!?” Leon bellowed, emerging from the brush. “Why?”

“Because I have faith in Arsenal.”

Those words had an profound effect on the rest of Assault and even Cutter. Samson and Leon both seemed to relax and approached the black-furred wolf. They sat down right next to him. Elliot bounded over, waving his arms and protesting while

Cutter just stared at them in shock. There had to be a catch. There just had to be.

He quickly grabbed his communicator. “Alpha Team. Are the PEBs still armed.”

“Still ticking away, boss. Why?”

“Check them. Make sure they’re armed.”

A few seconds passed.

“PEB 3 still armed.

“Same with 4. About 45 minutes until detonation.”

He lowered his hand away from the communicator. “What trick are you playing at, Reaper? What bullshit is this?”

“No bullshit,” answered Legion with a shrug. “The detonation of the bombs hinges on two factors.” He held up two fingers. “Either we disarm them or Arsenal manages to make it through a stadium full of infected people and Pins and Needles and their teams.” He gestured at Scalpel. “You think that people do what I say because they fear me, they fear my power or that they trust me implicitly because of all my abilities. Well, I’m taking myself out of the equation. I’m not going to disarm the remaining PEBs. Arsenal will have to do it. In fact, we’re not even going to tell them we’re stopping.”

“What will this prove?”

“That faith is a powerful thing,” Samson finished, smiling down at Reaper. “That sometimes, we just have to have faith in people and trust that they will do the right thing in the end.”

Cutter shook his head defiantly. “That’s absurd. You’re risking your entire movement! Your integrity and the entire island on someone else! Why would you do that!?”

Leon nodded at Reaper, cracking a rare smile. “Because in the end, that’s really all we can do. We can’t do everything and we just have to trust that others will do the right thing. It’s something we’ve had to deal with this entire time. Arsenal needed to trust us to find the cure for them through Tibia. They had to trust us to save them from the Gimp and Migraine’s troops. Now, it’s our turn to trust them.”

“Trust is a powerful thing,” Reaper agreed.

“This doesn’t prove anything!” Cutter barked though he uncharacteristically found himself gravitating towards the four. “If we put our faith in everyone else, that they will do everything for us, then that’ll just leave us with nothing but the evils of the world unchecked! We can’t just let someone else do all the work for us or else no one will do the work!”

Samson gave him a smirk. “Are you actually telling us to beat the shit out of you?” When Cutter hesitated, Samson sat down next to Reaper, crossing his legs as well. “He’s not saying that we leave everything to everyone. He’s saying that we need to know when to trust others and when to get others to trust us. That’s why they follow him. They trust him. Just as I do.”

“Me too,” agreed Leon. “I trust Jake’s judgement.”

Elliot slumped his shoulders and groaned. “You realise that if he’s wrong, we all die, right? That bomb is configured to send out a concentrated blast that’ll spread out for about a block and then shoot straight upwards!”

Reaper grinned, blue eyes locked with Scalpel’s. “And that’s the wager. Either I’m right and Arsenal disarms the bomb or I’m wrong and we all die.” He held out a paw towards Scalpel. “So what do you say, Doctor? Are you a betting man?”

Faith.

Such a simple thing. Yet so powerful. So many times, he had lost faith in the judicial system because villains who were clearly guilty had gotten off on lighter sentences or even walked free because of some technicality or some other backroom deal. He had decided to take the law into his own hands because of that lack of faith…

… Now that it wasn’t his faith that was being tested, he couldn’t help but crouch down in front of Reaper and wait.

“You’re on.”

******

Caleb could only watch in horror as two members of Arsenal were assaulted by Pins and Needles.

The transformation was as fascinating as it was grotesque.

First, the otter’s limbs sank into their target hosts; Lars and Madman, forming the first bridges for contact. Then, the otter themselves began to shake and shudder, their bodies bubbling and surging with muscles. Veins popped all over their bodies, muscles inflating and tripling in side. Lars fell on his back and the squirming and writhing otter pushed him to the ground while the sudden shift of weight pulled Madman forward. The otters let out simultaneous moans and giggles; the supervillains peeling themselves away from their hosts. An unusually large collection of veins coursed out of the otters and sank into the flesh of their target hosts, merging with the veins of the host and pumping their infectious forms through Madman and Lars’ bodies.

Lars howled in agony, desperately trying to keep Pins off him by seizing the otter’s shoulder. That only served to cause his paw to sink into the rapidly inflating shoulder, like the otter’s deltoids were absorbing the doberman’s fingers. He kept his other paw away as far as possible, fingers twitching and twisting as the infection spread. Madman tried the same, seizing the growing otter fused with his chest only for his own paws to sink into the dark brown flesh. Both quickly grew aroused, lewd thrusts only driving their bodies closer and closer into the otters that were transferring Pins and Needles into their bodies.

Huge vine-like veins coursed through every body part that was fused with the otters, visibly pumping and undulating like little marbles were travelling through them and sinking more and more of the corruptive essence into their hosts. Those veins reached up as far as Lars’ right shoulder - the paw that had fused with the otter’s deltoid - before the transformation fully took effect. Lars’ biceps tripled in size, straining the suit he wore before even the highly-durable armour gave way and tore, his bicep bursting from it like a volcano erupting; a volcano that was now covered in light-brown, almost reddish fur covered in thick, purplish-veins. He was still trying to yank his paw away but each tug only seemed to pump more and more of Pins into him. His forearms tore through the rest of his sleeve, bulging outward and giving Caleb enough time to watch as the doberman’s dark brown, almost black fur faded against slicker, lighter brown fur.

Lars gnashed his fangs together, angling his head away from the infected arm. His own deltoids took advantage of the tears in his sleeve, ripping through the fabric veins-first. He howled in a mixture of ecstasy and terror as that very muscle warped and twisted. A split appeared right along the line of the muscle, tearing open to become a big, toothy grin. A black nose, beady brown eyes and the otherwise cute features of an otter pushed itself out of his muscle, ripping through the rest of the fabric and positioning itself right beside Lars’ head. The doberman stared at Pins’ grinning features, eyes darting from the top of the otter’s head down to where the neck merged with his how inflated shoulder.

“Oh fuck… Fuck no!”

“Maybe later, cutie,” Pins giggled. “But for now…”

Lars shut his eyes, his back arching into the air and a blissful cry erupting from his lips. The other point of contact came from his left flank which quickly inflated, his lats tearing through his weakened suit. The string of veins was coursed across his back, snaking their way over his rapidly growing back before making contact with his spine. In that moment, Pins had his hooks in the doberman’s nervous system. Lars grimace of effort twisted upwards into a lustful grin and he began wildly humping the otter that was still on top of him; Pins’ original host. His left arm jerked back and forth, inching closer and closer towards the otter. He was fighting hard but it was a losing battle. The moment those veins began creeping up towards his arm, he lost that battle and his paw slammed against the otter’s back.

There was almost a sigh of relief that escaped Lars as he felt the strong flesh against his fingers. Then he was back to humping the otter wildly as his flesh melded with the offered muscle. Like his right arm, his left burst out of his suit, thick veins travelling all the way up his arm and working their way down his chest. His pectorals surged upward, pushing the otter away from him. When his two, mountainous pectorals erupted from his suit, covered in veins and brown fur, the otter began slipping off. His two paws were mercifully freed from the limp otter’s body, cum streaking the super’s abdominals as the spent host was abandoned by Pins.

Now, the supervillain and Gene Stealer was in Lars, infecting the super through the superfluous veins that began working their way down the huge V-shaped torso into Lars’ abdomen. Despite all the thrusting and Lars’ dazed look, the super somehow managed to get to his feet. His spine shot upwards, loud cracking and bone-snapping sounds pushing his height past nine feet while his abdominals stretched to support his new, muscled torso. Clearly, Pins was in control as Lars had dazed look completely with tongue flapping out. The extra head jutting from Lars’ shoulder giggled playfully as he commanded the transforming super’s massive paws to peel away the remainder of Lars’ suit, leaving the super completely nude in front of everyone.

The small nub-like tail jutting from Lars’ ass wiggled and wagged in excitement. Each shake caused it to stretch and broaden, swinging from side to side like a huge, furry rudder. It slapped the Doberman’s thighs, triggering the change. The impact sent a ripple of sensations through Lars’ muscles, veins popping all over the already massive tree trunks. His quads quadrupled in size, giving a squattering appearance compared to his torso. This spread towards his calves which broadened like two wings jutting out from either side of his shins. Seen from straight ahead, it was like his calves were just as wide as his thighs.

All the veins all over Lars’ body surged towards the centre of his body, his cock. The doberman threw his head back, the last ounce of self-control he had over his own body. His already impressive dick surged out of his sheath, a bright red spear that was covered in those pulsating veins. It was the signal Pins needed to grab the titanic tool in both of his hands, stroking it shamelessly and revelling in the shame to the popular superhero. Lars didn’t last long and with one loud grunt, his cock spewed a flood of cum in an impressive arc. His head rolled back, no longer in control and a slave to Pins’ whims. His features cracked and popped, the long, slim muzzle shrinking back into the broad features of an otter. His pointed ears rounded off and shrank into two discs at the top of his head. The near-black fur on his features faded into the light-brown fur that consumed the rest of his body.

“What do you think?” Pins asked, speaking from his own head. “Doesn’t he look good as an otter?”

There had to be some degree of psychological warfare behind Pins’ desire to maintain Lars’ head as a separate organ.

“Think we’re so disposable now, Weapons Master?” laughed the otter.

Before Caleb could fully come to terms with what happened, a shrill cry erupted from behind him.

“Brother!”

All eyes went towards Madman who was grinning savagely. The otter he was fused with was kicking and flailing, desperately trying to pull himself away but it seemed that Madman’s bear hug was holding him tight. Those veins that travelled through Madman’s body didn’t seem to be changing the hyena. In fact, he almost looked like he was draining the essence of the Gene Stealer from the original host. Needles’ hapless host was growing, returning to his original otter shape before Needles had taken over but Needles himself was being sucked into Madman.

“Noah!?” Pins exclaimed in shock. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know!” cried the otter, his voice warbling as he was forcibly extracted from his host. “He… He’s taken over! He’s drawing me in willingly and I’m not in control! It’s like… like…!”

“He’s adaptive…” Caleb whispered, recalling Gwen’s lesson and Madman’s abilities during the fight against Migraine’s troops. With each successive infection and transformation, Madman grew more and more adaptive to the point where the time he spent as a sex-crazed ‘madman’ grew shorter and shorter. Not even a minute of being fused with Needles and he was already in control.

“Get inside me you little fucker!” Madman growled.

“No!” Pins roared, commanding Lars body to charge. “Get away from my brother!”

At that moment, Madman seemed to absorb all of Needles and he threw the otter he was holding aside. He crashed against Lars, the two titanic men locking paws and fighting to an impasse.

“Weapons Master!” Madman roared. “Get to the box! Disarm the damn bombs! I’ll handle Flare Blue!”

Knocking himself out of his revere, Caleb nodded towards Bren and then, past him, towards Ben and Mary.

“I’ll see if I can use my blood control to separate Pins from Lars,” Ben snarled.

“And I’ll try and get Lars back mentally. Bren, escort Caleb to the commentator box. Disarm the bomb!”

Caleb turned and with Bren by his side, charged through the stadium hallways. It took him a second to realise that he was being flanked by others; the West California High Raptors. He didn’t have time to argue and tell them to get back.

“Time check!” he shouted.

“Forty-five minutes by my estimate,” Bren answered coolly. “Expect Pins and Needle’s henchmen to try and stop us.”

“They’ll need to get to us first!” shouted Keith and he began firing his mustard-gun at the supports over the stadium doors. Taking his lead, several others of the Raptors slashed or fired their weapons at the doors, sending them crumbling down and blocking the path into the inner tunnels. They were left unmolested for the most part. Some wild otters came bounding towards them but they were quickly dispatched by the group of football players that knew exactly how to work well with one another.

Caleb couldn’t be prouder.

They charged up the stairs towards the observation deck. The entire wall facing the stadium grounds was made of glass so it gave them a good view of the melee occurring on the main floor. The supers were holding their own but they had started resorting to creating a barricade around themselves. Magical energies, steel walls and even some molten rock had been erected to form a makeshift fortress at the centre of the field. Otters were swarming the walls with the supers trying their best to knock them down in a non-lethal fashion. Some of the Fused had managed to get on the battlements of the fortress and were currently engaging the others.

He hoped no one was going to get infected.

“We’re here, Caleb,” Gerard barked, reaching the door to the commentator’s box. “Get in there and save the day.”

Caleb nodded and grasped the door handle…

… then froze.

“Wait… What did you call me?” he asked, turning back towards the moose.

For a second, Gerard blinked like he honestly didn’t know what he was talking about. “Oh right. Sorry. I should be using ‘Weapons Master’ in public, right?”

“Uhm…” Caleb swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest and ears. “Well… yes but my real identity isn’t -”

Gerard gave him a pointed look. “Seriously dude? We’ve known for a while. A long while.”

“What!?”

“Don’t worry about it, Captain” Keith offered. “I mean, you kept getting called out in the middle of class and every time that happened, something big happened somewhere. There was always an ‘incident’ or something. Then around the time that the Gene Stealers started popping up, you’d always be gone whenever Weapons Master is making a show.”

“Like just now,” Gerard added. “Caleb Hale is mysteriously missing when his mom is out here fighting alongside us and he’s nowhere to be seen. It’s pretty damn obvious.”

Caleb was stammering. “I… I mean… He could have been caught on his way back to his seats…”

“His mom was doing a speech for, like, twenty minutes. That’d be a long time to get back to his seat.” Gerard shook his head and clapped Caleb’s shoulder. “Dude. We’ve know for months. We haven’t spilled because we all owe you our lives. You cured us from the Gene Stealers when Gnoll hit us, remember?”

That he did but still…

“Uhm… I guess…”

“You’re our Captain and our hero, Weapons Master!” exclaimed Keith, pumping a fist into the air. “We’ve got your back!”

Loud roars erupted from further down the stairs and one of the Raptors gazed down. Otters were making their way up.

“We’ll cover you,” Bren said, tapping his watch. “You’ve got about ten minutes to find the controls to the bomb and disarm it.”

Caleb glanced from face to face. Here was a team that was protecting him, covering him and fighting against the Gene Stealers with him. On some level, he was disappointed at himself for not keeping his secret well enough but on the other, he was eternally grateful that they knew.

“Thanks guys.” He held out his paw, palm face down. “Raptors soar on three!”

Each member of the team placed a hand or paw on top of his. Even Bren joins in.

“One!” he shouted.

“Two!” Gerard bellowed.

“Three!”Bren cried.

“Soar, Raptors! Soar!”

With that rallying cry, Caleb turned and barged into the commentator’s box. He locked the door behind him, trusting Bren’s experience in the field to command the Raptors in defending him as he undid Pins and Needles’ plan. Sadly, there wasn’t just a simple big box with a sign that said ‘insert keycard here’. There was cum that stuck to his shoes and the stench of sex in the air which made his eyes water.

“Come on,” he growled, sifting through the papers and weaving through the chairs. “Where are you?”

Beep.

His ears perked and swivelled towards the south side of the box. There was a tablet sitting out of place amongst the papers and machinery.

“That’s it!”

He charged over -

CRASH!

Only for a huge, muscled otter to come charging through the glass in a flurry of blue flames. Caleb staggered back, shielding his face from the fire.

“You’re quite clever,” hissed Pins, head jutting out of Lars’ right shoulder.

“… but we’ve still got one more trick up our sleeve,” Needles continued.

Caleb grit his fangs together. “How’d you get past Madman and the others?”

“Simple,” Needles giggles. “I just jumped from Madman’s body and joined my brother. Together…”

“… our powers are far greater than when we are separated,” finished Pins. “We were able to unleash a sensory-deprivation field…”

“… and made even the titanic Madman and that bitch Blade Babe fall to their knees.”

“Pity we couldn’t watch the rest of your little rebellion fall to our Fused…”

“… but we have to deal with you.”

Glancing past the two, he eyed the tablet. There was a timer on it. He was down to just a few minutes. He had to think fast. The wide receiver in him knew he could slip past the gargantuan otter with Lars’ head still dazed and sitting between them. It was almost like looking at a Cerberus-like creature but with otters.

“I’m going to get past you,” he snarled. “You know it.”

“Oh, we know,” Needles snickered.

“That’s why we don’t intend to stop you,” finished Pins.

Now he was worried.

The three-headed otter reached behind him, grasped the tablet and placed it on the ground. Then he kicked it across the room, sending it skittering towards the door. Caleb never kept his eyes off Pins and Needles.

“As we said, our powers are far greater when we are together in the same body,” Pins said.

Needles continued, his creepy grin mirrored on his brother. “Even our control over the nervous system.”

“So?” Caleb barked.

“So… Here’s the deal, Weapons Master.” Pins lifted his arm to point at the tablet. “There’s about ten seconds left on the timer…”

Ten…

“… you have to make a choice…”

… Nine…

“Either you disarm the bombs now…”

… Eight…”

“.. Or we pull ourself from your boyfriend and totally destroy his nervous system.”

… Seven…

Time seemed to stop for Caleb. Here he was, at a terrible crossroads. Save the city… or save Lars.

“What are you saying!?”

… Six…

The twins giggled.

“We can break Flare Blue’s nerves. Sever each and every one.”

… Five…

“But we’ll leave him alive. So you’ll have to live with the fact that you chose to leave him a vegetable for the rest of his life!”

… four…

It was an impossible choice to make! Lars or the city. The hero would pick the city but he wasn’t just a hero. He was an 18 year-old kid that was just tying to do his best to make the world a better place! He could call out to Bren for help but he had locked the door! Maybe they could break through but then it’d be too late. Pins and Needles could render Lars paraplegic within seconds!

… three…

“Make your choice, Weapons Master!” shouted Pins.

… two…

“Flare Blue or the city!”

… one…