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Legion of Pain

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Chapter 1: Enter Tibia

It was a Saturday in the Thirty-First Century. West California Island was still in its winter phase with the enormous meteorological rings casting an overcast across the vast island bringing with it a little flurry of snow even though just a hundred or so miles to the east, the Californian mainland was experiencing rather mild beach weather. A seven foot tall wolf was bundled up in a thick, red parka, black insulated pants and thick boots. A bright orange scarf was wrapped around his neck and placed over his muzzle to keep the tip of his black nose from freezing. A red beanie to match his parka with holes cut for his large, triangular ears was placed over his brow so that only his bright, green eyes could be seen beneath all the clothing. The towering lupine with a body trained for football cut a rather intimidating figure even with the added bulk of his clothing. At over three hundred pounds of muscle and just at eighteen years of age, many would say the star wide receiver of the West California High Football Team was on the fast track to being the next great football start to come out of the island.

That is, of course, if he wasn’t already the renowned Outsider and spokesperson for the superhero team, Arsenal.

But today, Caleb Hale was not playing as Weapons Master. Today, he had to get away from it all because as usual, there was drama.

Life just could not be simple.

Ironic then, that he was leaving his family to meet perhaps the most complex person he could possibly know.

Perched against the window of a local Starbucks, a tablet in paw was well-built wolf with fur as black as night and an orderly mess of golden-blonde hair sticking out between his ears. Caleb entered the warmth of the coffee shop and shuffled over to the mostly empty counter. When it was his turn, he ordered just some hot chocolate and two of the ham sandwiches. He had fled his home so fast he had forgotten to eat breakfast. His name was taken and he headed over to where Jacob Samuel Reaper was sitting.

“How the hell could you be wearing that in this weather?” Caleb asked, gesturing at Jacob’s blue, short-sleeved shirt that showed off his toned chest and had a rather deep neckline, enough to show off the tufts of golden chest fur that crested his pectorals. His fellow wolf was also wearing a simple pair of light brown three-quarter cargo shorts and some sneakers. “Aren’t you cold?”

His friend and confidant offered him a cheery smile. “Of course I’m cold. How else could I justify having some of this?” He gestured at the large mug filled with a brown drink and what appeared to be half-eaten, half-melted marshmallows. “I mean, if I drank hot chocolate while I was boiling, then I’d look crazy.”

Caleb rolled his eyes and sat down opposite to Jacob. “Yeah. Like being dressed half-naked isn’t crazy.”

“Trust me. I’ve been crazy. Gets kind of exhausting after a while.” The black-furred wolf handed Caleb the tablet. “Looks like your dad is making the rounds again.”

He need not be reminded. David Hale, the renowned superhero known as Feral Steel and now the sponsor and official manager of Arsenal, was riling up the rest of the team in an attempt to secure funding. Since Arsenal became a fully-fledged, independent hero team, the FBI had pulled funding for liability reasons. That meant that they had to find some way to pay for the immense base that they had and keep their skills sharp. Not to mention insurance. Catastrophic fights against superpowered villains came with a lot of collateral damage. Insurance companies covered the costs but only if the premiums were paid. Since Arsenal was fairly well-known in West California Island but not the rest of the world, their premiums were very high. This meant David had to drag the team to make public appearances, do events and he had even hired a ghost writer to chronicle Michael Sanchez’s - AKA Madman, the former Gene Stealer lackey turned Arsenal member - journey to becoming one the more popular members of the team.

Caleb hated the appearances as it always reminded him how low he was on the popularity polls. People saw him as too vanilla and too much of a boy scout. Everyone was fascinated about how Lars McLeod had been infected by the Gene Stealers and somehow made it back with Caleb’s help or how he had stood defiant against the Elemental Alliance and broke off from the mainstream superheroes to join a band of Outsiders. Mary Brightwood was exceptionally popular as the only female of the group and with her sass and ‘star presence’, she was a hit. Then there was Ben who was part of the villainous Alpha Pack but was allied with Arsenal for his own reasons. To everyone else, Caleb was just… well… he was the Outsider who could turn anything he touched into a random weapon. With his vast arsenal and his history of shrugging off the Gene Stealer infections, people saw him as… boring.

Pride: hurt.

“I’d rather not be reminded of how my dad is trying to make me more popular and yet getting bastards like GG Guinness mouthing off against every little thing I do.” Caleb miserably pushed the tablet away from him. “I wish I were more like you. Guinness is scared shitless about you.”

“And do you know why?” Jacob asked.

“Because you can’t feel pain and have the ability to summon interdimensional weapons that are capable of cleaving this entire universe in two? Because you’ve embarrassed him time and time again?”

“No.” The black-furred wolf gave him a knowing smile. “Because I’m willing to admit I’m wrong. Guinness thrives on making people feel inferior and getting them to lash out. It’s how he maintains his business. But the one thing he can’t handle is someone who accepts his criticisms with an open mind and takes them into consideration.”

Caleb shook his head. “Right. Because it’s so easy to turn the other cheek.”

“Never said it was easy. Even now, countless eternities since I destroyed the Empty Throne, people can still get under my skin.” Jacob took a sip from his mug. “It’s why I always find popping into these stories fascinating. Someone will always surprise me.”

“Right.” With the heater in the store already at full blast, Caleb was starting to sweat in his parka. He unzipped the thick, red garment and pulled off his gloves, revealing the grey and white fur beneath. “Let’s change the subject. There’s actually something that’s been bugging me.”

“Shoot.”

“What is the most powerful weapon in the world?”

Jacob gave him a curious look, lifting one golden eyebrow. “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Never in a million years would I have expected you to ask that of all things at this moment. Honestly I was expecting you to ask me why I chose this particular Starbucks to meet.” The slightly smaller wolf set down his mug. “Why the sudden interest?”

“Just something me and Ben were talking about earlier,” Caleb said with a shrug. “He wondered aloud what would happen if I touched a nuclear missile and turned it into a weapon and we kind of got to thinking what’d happen if I used my powers on the most powerful weapon in the world.”

A worried look crossed Jacob’s muzzle. “Should I be worried?”

“It’s purely theoretical!” Caleb laughed, holding up his big paws. “I’m just curious what the most powerful weapon is.”

“I guess you’d have to think about it on a variety of factors,” Jacob said with a shrug. “Its ability to kill, it’s efficiency, cost and all that. A deadly virus may kill more people than a supervolcano but it’d do it slower. I really don’t have an answer.”

“Yeah I didn’t think you would.” He sighed softly and leaned back. “Ben said it’d be the Ark of the Covenant.”

He got a soft ‘huh’ and a brief nod of agreement out of that.

“I suppose that’s plausible if the distribution method is good enough. Though it’d just kill living things with the capacity to understand it’s contents. It won’t destroy the planet or unravel the universe or something.”

Caleb leaned forward, his paws on the coffee table. “Wait… the Ark of the Covenant actually exists?”

“Yes. I thought you knew. That’s why you were asking.”

“No!” he exclaimed, suddenly excited. This was why he enjoyed his talks with Jacob. There was always something new he’d learn whether it was about the world or himself. “What’s in it? Come on man. You’ve got to tell me. Wait…” He plugged his ears with both his paws. “My brain isn’t going to melt out of my ears is it?”

“No,” Jacob laughed. “And besides, the Christian God won’t care. I honestly think he/she has forgotten about it since they’ve been on vacation for so long.”

“God’s on vacation? But Wolf Jesus…?”

“Hmmm? Oh right. The Second Coming.” Jacob shrugged. “Eh, Christ just came back for the sake of keeping the religion alive after the Apocalypse hit and furs came in. A way of bridging the gap between humans and furs under one religion and what not. Plus he wants to make sure that when his dad does come back from vacation, the house is just as they left it.” Jacob took a sip from his mug again. “Well… relatively speaking anyway.”

A shout came from the counter.

“A grande hot chocolate for Kah-leb! I’ve got a grande hot chocolate for a Kah-leb.”

If ever there was a cliche, it had to be the coffee guy getting his name wrong. With a sigh, Caleb headed over to the counter, picked up his drink and meal and brought it back to the table. The hot chocolate was more milk than chocolate and was scalding hot but he was too cold to care. The sandwiches were filled with a bland ham that was more like a rubbery filling to give texture to the cheese but again, he wasn’t of a mind to nitpick. As a 31st Century Wolf, he could devour an entire cow and still be up to run a marathon.

“So what’s in the Ark?”

“God’s porn.”

Caleb gagged into his cup and nearly did a spike take. “Excuse me!?”

Jacob gave him a deadpan stare. “I’m serious. The Ark of the Covenant is God’s porn stash. Why do you think it melts people’s faces of? If people understood the kind of kinky shit the Almighty is into, then their brains would implode. After all, ‘God is love’, right? And there are all different kinds of love in the world.” Jacob shook his head and regarded his mug. “I never understood that part of their philosophy. Love everyone and everything. And they mean everyone and everything.” He shuddered and shook his head. “Makes me glad I have other guys that can love the things I don’t.”

Caleb could actually feel some parts of his brain melting and starting to leak out of his ears. “I… I… I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“Just promise me you won’t seek out the Ark of the Covenant and use your powers on it.”

“I’m not sure I want to touch it knowing what is in it… or what it’s used for…”

“Probably a wise choice.” Jacob used a finger to swipe across his tablet while using his other paw to pull the drink to his lips. “Things back at home still going to hell?”

He shrugged absently and began munching on his sandwiches. “Same old, same old. Lance is a daddy’s boy now. Leon is still getting on dad’s nerves. Abby won’t stop bitching about how mom’s bid to be mayor will interfere with her wedding. I can’t even have Lars over anymore because either Dad will try to get us into training that he’s way too eager to do, Lance wants to bring us on a double date with his boyfriend, Leon will try to poach him to take his side or Mom will try to stuff him full of food. Abby is the only saving grace in that scenario because she would say something about not letting us in my room alone for too long and all that’ll do is make Lars leave in embarrassment!” Caleb shook his head. “So why did you choose this cafe of all the cafes in the city anyway.”

That knowing stare came again and Caleb braced himself for a withering observation.

“Trying to avoid the topic of your chaotic home life in favour of something else, huh?”

“Just answer the question,” he snarled.

Jacob switched off his tablet with a flick and finished off his drink. “Well, first of all,” he said, setting down the mug, “I always wanted to do that cliche where superheroes meet in some nondescript restaurant but I couldn’t find a decent shawarma place where you could make it on time using public transport. You really need to get snow tires for Ballistic.” The wolf straightened. “Secondly, this place just happens to be close to where Arty told me that a supervillain was going to strike.”

“A supervillain?” Caleb asked, his heart starting to pound hard in his chest. At the mention of the Hound of Death Arcturus, he knew it would have to be fairly serious. Ever since Rhiannon, the Hound of Destruction, had temporarily passed her responsibilities to her counterpart, Arcturus had been incredibly busy and had been one of the sources of information for Arsenal around hostile takeovers, supervillain attacks or general crime. Recently, Arcturus had come out to do some work himself alongside Jacob and another of Jacob’s colleagues, Gwen, but their appearances tended to be rarer. Arcturus wasn’t omnipresent. “Which one?”

There, the wolf in front of him grimaced. “Well.. He calls himself a supervillain. Wouldn’t even be a B-list villain. Maybe G… F… D at most. Definitely below passing grade. But I figured after being stressed over your family, your inability to couple with Lars due to your fears of breaking the foundation of friendship your relationship is based upon, your underlying need to be accepted and praised because of your superstar football player background-slash-jock mentality, finding some way to secure funding for your team and working on your image so that you don’t appear like such a boring saint, you might want to hit something.”

Caleb’s fists were already tightened into fists and it was all he could do to keep himself from hitting Jacob there and then. “You better have a point,” he growled.

Ignoring his obvious hostilities, Jacob turned away from him and pointed across the street towards what appeared to be a corner store. He held up a watch he had, counting down the seconds. “Three… two… one…”

An alarm suddenly erupted from the convenience store. Some of the patrons came charging out of the sliding door, looking behind them in a panic. One or two of them had their phones up and snapping pictures. A man dressed in a bone-white, skin-tight uniform with what appeared to be a reversed ‘7’ on his muscled chest came bursting through one of the glass windows carrying a machine on his shoulders that had to at least be as big as he was. From the logo on the side of the machine and the flickering screen, it was an ATM.

“Did… Did that guy just steal an ATM on his shoulders?” Caleb asked.

Jacob rested his elbow on the table and idly propped his head up on his paw. “Supers have baseline superpowers. Some people have varying degrees of them from being disproportionately strong compared to their slim forms, herculean to just downright ridiculous. Salazar Shin over there has quite a bit of physical strength to him. Sadly, he lacks on the intelligence department even with his enhanced abilities.”

“I wasn’t questioning how he’s able to do that. I’m questioning who would be stupid enough to steal a whole goddamn ATM in broad daylight!”

“Like I said. Shin isn’t exactly too bright. He came up with his supervillain name after having to look up what the scientific name for ‘shinbone’ is on Google.”

Caleb gave his friend a puzzled look. “Tibia?”

“Exactly.”

“So hang on… His name is Salazar Shin and his supervillain name is Tibia? His powers are…?”

“You know that feeling when you hit your funny bone or get kicked in the shins. That.”

Caleb ran a paw down his face in exasperation. “You know… sometimes I wonder who comes up with this kind of shit.”

The black-furred wolf rose from his seat. “Everyone has their own story. Sometimes, it’s just downright ridiculous to some people especially those looking in from the outside. But it’s their story. Mortal fate shall and always will be in mortal hands.”

“And what about those heroes that get their powers from gods.”

“There are no gods. Just mortals.” Jacob hiked a thumb in the direction of the fleeing supervillain. “So, what do you say? Shall we make waves?”

Caleb grinned and plucked his drink from the table. “This is why I like hanging out with you. You always know what to say.” He glanced around the cafe and took notice of how people were only mildly interested in what was happening across the street. “This is a special cafe, isn’t it?”

“Now you’re getting it.”

*****

After today, no one would be laughing at him anymore.

For most of his life, Salazar Shin was laughed at. Someone always found some way to mock him. If they weren’t pinching the corners of their eyes and making fun of his Asian heritage, joking about how he had no parents or mocking him for his oddly specific powers, they were laughing at him for his lofty dreams. Salazar Shin had wanted to be a superhero just like the Elemental Alliance. He had the strength for it but sadly, he never did very well in school. Another source of mockery. An Asian that couldn’t do math. The stereotype was insulting and degrading. But Shin persevered. He tried to get into the Alliance.

They just laughed him out.

That was when he vowed vengeance upon all those people that had ever laughed at him.

And he became… Tibia!

Now, after months of planning, he had finally managed to rob that convenience store on the corner of Grey Street and North Solace Avenue! He had pilfered a whole ATM! This was a monumental achievement!

Mentally dancing on the high of his heist, he dashed across the street from the store to his bone-white car. Sadly, he realised he had nowhere to put the ATM. He tried the trunk first but it wouldn’t fit. Even with the back seats pulled down. Sirens wailed in the distance and no doubt superheroes would soon be on their way. While he was confident in his abilities, he wasn’t dumb enough to stand up against the entire Elemental Alliance. No, he had to play it smart. With no other recourse, he hefted the ATM onto the top of his car. The heavy mass bent the roof a little but he would soon be rich enough to buy a new car.

Grinning at his conquest and ‘intelligence’ — despite not even thinking about how he would secure the machine — he slipped into the driver’s seat of his car.

That was when a black paw slid across the dashboard.

“Wow! Is this a hybrid?”

Shin jerked towards his right. There was a wolf fur sitting in his passenger seat. Kind of well-built but perhaps a little smaller than other wolves. Black fur and blonde hair. Dark blue eyes and dressed rather sparsely for winter.

“Who the fuck are you!?” he demanded.

Apparently ignoring his question, the wolf continued to slide his paws across the dashboard and even opened the glove compartment. “I’ve always wanted one of these. I mean hybrid cars these days are so innovative. Who would’ve thought you could power a vehicle from a combination of electricity and ground up zombie bones.”

“What the fuck are you talking about!?” demanded Tibia.

“Didn’t you know?” said the wolf, inclining his head to the side slightly. “Fossil fuels were outlawed because a lot of reptilian furs took offense to how they’re basically the remains of dinosaurs from ages past. Seems like a stretch to me given how they didn’t even come from this world in the first place but what that’s how the people voted. The only alternative was to use the zombie matter from the Apocalypse which make for a surprisingly efficient fuel.”

Shin had enough of the rambling and seized the fur’s collar. “I wasn’t talking about that! Who the hell are you and how did you get in my car!?”

“Ah,” said the wolf calmly, “well I’ll answer your second question first. You didn’t lock the car.”

It took the ‘super’-villain a moment to realise that he had indeed forgotten to lock his vehicle.

“And secondly, my name is Jacob Reaper. People call me Legion. Part-time superhero, part-time bartender and all-night talk show host. Tune in Wednesday on Channel Ultima at nine. I’m covering how as more and more people are coming forward with their superpowers in the wake of vigilantism, mainstream superheroes are rejecting them and turning them into tomorrow’s villains. Speaking of which, have you met my friend and associate?”

Reaper pointed past Shin and the villain turned just in time for a big fist to shatter the window and forcibly drag him through the door. The burly human was hurled to the ground by the towering wolf with the very familiar double-diamond markings on his chest, skin-tight black uniform and odd ability to change his fur and eye colour to hide his true identity despite not wearing a mask of any kind.

“He’s the front-man of the Outsider-friendly team known as Arsenal,” Reaper said, stepping out of the car. The super splayed himself over the hood of the car, resting on his back and peering up at Tibia. “Weapons Master.”

Tibia snarled and sprang to his feet with surprising dexterity. “I ain’t afraid of you two!” He made a claw with his hands. “Feel the wrath of the Mighty Tibia!” With a cry, he thrust his hands forward, focusing all his might in the direction of the two. Weapons Master jolted back and growled in annoyance. Reaper, on the other hand…

The slightly smaller wolf let out a yelp and toppled forward, rolling off the hood of the car before crashing to the ground, clutching his shin.

“Ow! Son-of-a-bitch! OW!”

Weapons Master gave his fellow wolf a puzzled look. “Really?” He glanced towards Tibia then back to the fallen wolf. “Really?”

“Yes really!” shouted Jacob hotly. “How are you not in agonising pain over this!? Getting hit on the shins is possibly one of the most painful experiences in all existence and I’ve had my tail ripped off and semi-organic metallic chain-wings grafted to my spine!”

That puzzled Shin long enough to drop his powers for a second. Realising his mistake, Tibia redoubled his efforts on Weapons Master, directing both his hands in the direction of the bigger, brawnier wolf. The Outsider just gave him a look of annoyance that made him back away a step.

“Dude, I play football,” answered the Arsenal member, ignoring Tibia entirely. “I’ve seriously had worse. I thought you were some mighty interdimensional entity that’s lived countless lifetimes and has near-godlike powers. How the hell are you toppled by being kicked in the shins?”

Jacob rolled onto his belly and whimpered. “It hurts…”

Weapons Master rolled his eyes and strode over to Tibia. “Okay, show’s over bonehead.”

Shin took a step back. “No! You will never catch —”

WHAM!

All it really took was one punch to the face and Shin was silenced. The villain wasn’t down yet but the stunning blow had him dazed and unprepared. Instincts told him to lift his arms to defend his face but that blinded him to Weapons Master’s true strike. The powerful blow struck his abdomen, his breath being pushed out of his lungs forcefully and his form doubling over. He immediately dropped his arms, clutching the Outsider’s paw in his gut. Only then did he see the rising palm strike that slammed into his chin and sent him flying a full foot into the air before he came crashing back down on his back. Out like a light.

“I see those training sessions with Gwen were working,” Jacob mumbled, having to use the car to help him lift himself off the ground.

“Yeah. She kicks ass. Mine mostly.” Caleb regarded his friend curiously. “You were faking it, right? You can’t feel pain. That’s your superpower apart from summoning your weapons. You couldn’t seriously have been knocked over by this clown’s powers.”

Jacob rested one leg on the hood of the bone-white car and rubbed his shins. “Yeah but I wanted the guy to feel like he was doing something. A humiliating defeat is often as painful as a sucker punch.”

The sirens were drawing closer and the red and white flashing lights of the approaching authorities were already in sight.

“Clean up crew is approaching,” Caleb said. “Mind making a statement with me? I still haven’t gotten the grasp of what to say to the media when they get involved. Especially if someone like GG Guinness is there.”

Jacob gave him a bright smile. “Sure. But first…” Reaper pulled out his phone — a higher-end model with a holographic ‘flip-top’ display and positioned himself over the unconscious Tibia. “Selfie!”

Caleb could not help but grin and flex at arm.

******

Realistically speaking, Caleb really should have known better than to go home.

Though it had only been a minor robbery, the media had caught wind that Weapons Master and Legion were there and a frenzy quickly ensued. This hadn’t been the first time Caleb had gone ‘moonlighting’ alongside Jacob and that had started the idea of them being a ‘Howling Duo’. Though Caleb found the little outings away from the politics of being part of Arsenal refreshing, dealing with the media always exhausted him. He just knew that insurance companies would be involved but thankfully, this time, no one was hurt — except Jacob — and no one was going to try and sue him for damages. Thus far, David Hale handled those alongside their insurance and it ticked off his dad to no end when he went on ‘unsanctioned missions’ alongside Jacob who was notoriously without his own coverage. Apparently, Jacob dealt with the damages his own way though he never specified how he did it.

When Caleb stepped into the house, he was immediately met with a barrage of yelling and screaming. Thankfully, none of it was directed at him.

“The police force is stretched thin as is!” Leon Hale barked. The eldest of the Hale siblings, Leon was Lance’s twin brother and though visibly smaller in size and muscle mass due to recent events, Leon was far more outgoing and vocal about his opinions since joining the police force. This became especially problematic since his views constantly clashed with his twin brother’s and father’s.

“Why are you even wasting your time with them?” snarled David, fangs bared and hackles raised. “You’re a super. You have superpowers! You should be training and honing them!”

“What? So I can be like you? The guy who purposefully didn’t tell me about my own powers because he thought I wasn’t disciplined or mature enough!?” Leon spread his arms, showing off the deep blue uniform he wore just to spite his father. “Well what do you think about me now, dad?”

“I still think you’re a pup! My pup and I’m not going to let you go out there and endanger yourself because you think you’re powerful enough to take down one of the most powerful villains on the island!”

Caleb quietly shuffled towards Lance who stood at least a whole foot taller than he did and uniquely possessed a second pair of arms and pectorals as part of his special mutation. Lance was still technically in training with the Elemental Alliance but he was allowed to take frequent trips back home — naturally in secret — now that he had received a modicum of control over his powers. Lance also didn’t like wearing shirts when he was at home, leaving his toned, two-times-bodybuilder-build torso exposed. Not that there were any clothes that he could wear anyway. Most people had two arms, not four.

“So what’re they arguing about today?” Caleb asked softly.

Lance had to lean down towards his youngest brother to whisper. Superficially, he looked the same as Leon except for the colour of their eyes, but with Lance’s recent mutations, they were like night and day. Lance’s abilities were very outward, physical and drew attention. Leon looked like an admittedly bulky wolf but his powers were mental and made him nearly invisible. “The police set up a sting against some supervillain. Apparently really dangerous. Leon wanted to go but dad pulled some strings and got him booted off the operation.”

“Dad did that?” A surprise given how David had often warned Leon that his constant defiance would lead him to being disowned or kicked out of the family. Then again, David had a habit of clinging onto his family whenever they were put in danger and recently, Leon had been the target of the Gene Stealers. “How long have they been at it?”

“Almost all afternoon since Leon got back after learning he wasn’t allowed to go. So maybe four hours.”

“Keeping them hydrated?”

Leon held up two bottles of water filled with water. “Yep.”

It had been Lily Hale’s policy to let the two men yell themselves to exhaustion but to make sure they didn’t come to blows. Lance was usually the mediator in the arguments and the one that provided water. She figured that the sooner they got all their aggression out, the sooner they would leave the rest of the family in silence. It tended to work. After five hours of shouting, David would usually go into his study and Leon would shut himself in the room that he shared with Lance. When it was time for dinner, they would mercifully stay quiet. That gave the Hale matriarch time to wash the dishes, clean up and continue work on her campaign to be the next mayor of West California Island.

“I’m going to go get cleaned up,” he said, hiking a thumb up towards the second floor. “Warm me if either of them want to vent, okay?”

“You got it, little bro.”

Caleb gave his big brother a little nudge with his elbow and padded up the stairs. He didn’t get more than two steps up when Lillian Hale shouted, “Claws!” from the kitchen.

“How the hell does she hear that over all their yelling,” he wondered aloud with a growl. Caleb was forced to bad back downstairs, go towards the shoe closet and pluck out the two green sandals that prevented his bare claws from scratching the wood polish on the stairs. With his mother’s matriarchal rules satisfied, he was allowed to head on upstairs towards his room unmolested. He slumped into his bed, sprawling down belly first while his eyes shut.

No more than a few moments of peace was interrupted by a soft metallic ticking. With one eye open, he peered up against the sole window in his room. An old tomato soup can knocked against the window before falling back down out of sight. It took a monumental effort to rise from where he was seated and push open the window. He caught the can the next time he was hurled at him from his neighbour, Mary Brightwood. Despite the cold, she was wearing only her bright pink bathrobe. As always, she looked like a supermodel even though he was fairly sure he had caught her between orgasms with her boyfriend, Ashton Marx. Her blonde hair was perfectly straight, her features were porcelain and clean and her bright, blue eyes were sharp and attentive as ever.

“Good job with Tibia today,” she said with a snarky edge. “You know the moment your dad stops yelling at Leon, he’s going to hear about how you took down a ‘supervillain’ with Jacob, right? And you know how much he hates Jacob.”

It was no secret that David Hale absolutely despised Legion despite holding enough begrudging respect to include Jacob as part of Arsenal. In his eyes, Jacob represented everything that Caleb was not. Baseline superpowers, impervious to pain, ability to muster weapons and so media-savvy that when most outlets realised that Legion was involved, they usually tried to avoid getting any interviews. David had tried to move heaven and earth to get Caleb to stop seeing the only guy who seemed to be a rock in a sea of turmoil. Though he would never admit it in front of his dad, Caleb looked up to Legion. Apparently, even as there was an ‘instance’ of him on Earth, there were countless other versions of him helping countless others on all realities to realise their dreams and loftiest aspirations. All for no true gain on his part. Jacob had the love of his life, he could create anything he wanted and yet somehow, he still found the time and energy to help others who asked.

That was a superhero.

And his dad didn’t want him interacting with him.

“I’m pretty sure my dad knows that he can’t really force me not to see him,” Caleb answered confidently. “He’s way too busy dealing with Leon, Abby and my mom. Oh and Lance.”

“Sounds to me like your dad is getting stretched thin. You ever thought of helping him out?”

“How, exactly? Should I start placating Abby’s ridiculous demands for her wedding? Help out with mom’s campaign even though she’s constantly procrastinating? Get Leon to back off?”

Mary gave him her piercing, knowing look that usually portended some scathing rebuke. “You know exactly how you can help and yet you don’t. You just like the fact that the misery of the rest of your family is keeping your dad from controlling your life.”

And just as expected, those words made Caleb feeling like he was scum. “When you put it like that…”

“Caleb Hale. I expected more from you.”

He caught sight of movement behind Mary and he gave her a sour look. “It’s kind of hard to take you seriously right now when there’s a naked tiger strutting around your room with a raging boner.”

Ashton leaned over Mary’s shoulders, draping himself around her. He was a lean, athletic young feline with the ‘stripes’ on his fur actually tattoos. He was a tiger born without stripes but he had compensated by writing lyrics and scripts of his favourite plays all over his body in the shape of real stripes. “Hey Caleb. Ever think of joining us over here? You know it will be fun.”

“No thanks. It’d be like doing my sister. Then there’s Mary and I’m pretty sure she’d crush my balls.”

The tiger rolled his eyes and began to wander back towards her bed. “Jocks…”

Mary did the same. “Boys.” She turned her attention back to Caleb. “Listen, you know there’s chaos in your household and it’s tearing your home apart. You look up to Jacob because he’s always able to remain calm when there’s a storm around him. Why don’t you bring him over for dinner? Maybe he can sort out your mess.”

Caleb’s eyes brightened. “Or make things so much worse… Thanks Mary!”

“You know he’ll fix things, right. There’s no point getting your hopes up.”

He grinned savagely at her. “Oh I don’t know. You never know with him.”

To that, she had to concede. “Goodnight, Caleb. Remember, you’re a hero, not a villain.”

She pulled the soup cans back towards herself and Caleb shut the window beaming brightly and with the cogs of a plot twisting in his mind.

******

The Allied Extreme Global Intelligence Service or AEGIS for short was the temporary base of operations for all of Arsenal and though David Hale still had misgivings, he could not deny that AEGIS’s carrier-class starship, the Cornucopia, was far better than the Facility had ever been_._ The massive hovering ship was a behemoth by any normal standards. Though they had much bigger starships, the Cornucopia was a marvel of technology. He constantly griped about rebuilding the Facility but in truth, he knew that there was little value in the endeavour. Perhaps he would turn it into a museum for Arsenal. Get replicas of Caleb’s more famous weapons, hang them over motifs of some of their renowned battles and charge for admission. That would get their funds up and maybe get the insurance agencies off their backs.

The big, burly wolf commonly known as Feral Steel to the rest of the world ran a paw down his face. Between dealing with Leon, trying to be supportive towards his wife’s mayoral campaign, training Lance, trying to stay calm over his daughter’s impending marriage, issues with Arsenal and the fact that he was now infested with a werewolf virus, he was starting to feel incredibly stretched. There was also the fact that he had a wild card running around wantonly…

Jacob Samuel Reaper.

It was a good thing that AEGIS kept detailed records about all their employees, even ‘Legion’. It was a pity that all the reports mentioned that Reaper was ‘shackled’ by an agreement with the gods meaning that he didn’t have access to his true powers. One of the things David absolutely despised was people holding back for no reason. According to the speculations on the report, Reaper could erase the entire universe with a snap of a finger should he desire. There were also supposed to be thirteen others like him running around and this ‘Gwen’ was one of them. They kept calling him ‘R3 the Writer of Reality’.

David shook his head. “Ignore the speculation,” he reminded himself. “Look at the facts.”

Scrolling through the digital documents, he found a list of the weapons that Reaper had used in the past.

“Let’s see…” he muttered softly. “Briar Rose. A rapier. Has the power to summon powerful vines with a tensile strength equivalent to dense nanofibre cords with thorns as sharp as any blade and hard as diamond. Seemingly can summon them wantonly and at will. He tends to wield the weapon in his left hand. Can activate a secondary mode of the weapon to create a ‘thorn-whip’ that he holds in his right hand. Has the strange ability to leave a trail of rose petals with each swing. Seems purely aesthetic but it is theorised that they help obscure an enemy’s field of vision or distract them. When using the weapon, Legion’s speed seems to increase dramatically or perhaps he just has a tendency to put more of his focus on his speed when he wields it.”

A large mug was suddenly settled in front of his desk by a black paw. He jumped when Jacob sat on the edge of his desk, a similar cup in his paws.

“The fuck!?” he exclaimed. “Don’t you knock!?”

“It’s my ship, David,” answered Legion. “And for the record I did knock. Not all that loud, mind you, but I couldn’t really do that much given I was holding two mugs of scalding hot liquid.” He took a sip from the mug gingerly and David picked up his, sniffing at it lightly.

“What is this?”

“Old family recipe. Hot chocolate with some whipped cream, sprinkled with cinnamon, brown sugar stirred in and a shot if whiskey.”

He eyed the super dubiously but took a sip form the drink nonetheless. Strangely, he couldn’t taste the whiskey at all but he did get that light burning sensation down his throat from drinking it. “It’s good.”

“Thanks. My mom used to make it for me.”

His tone made it impossible to tell if that was a sour memory or a happy one but David had to ask, if only to sate his own curiosity. “Used to?”

“Oh yeah. I mean, I could ask her to make it for me these days but that’d be kind of weird. I mean, the Writer of Reality asking his mom to make him a mug of hot cocoa.” Jacob shook his head with a smirk. “I’d never live that down.”

“So she’s alive? Like… you?”

“Depends on your definition. Technically, she died. But when you stand outside of time and space and it becomes your responsibility to free all of existence from a self-destructive web, then you sort of have to do something about the souls of people who have come and gone.”

David blinked at the enigma disguised as a wolf in front of him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Then perhaps you should spend less time trying to read dossiers about me behind my back and just ask me.”

It was not often that Feral Steel was chastised and the last time he felt like a child like this was early in his career when he was training as a superhero. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He hummed softly and took another sip from the cocoa. “So… What exactly did you mean by that? Is there some threat that I should know about?”

Jacob waved his paw absently through the air. “Nah. I’m done with that part. But if you want a background, did you ever see that movie where some purple guy collected these magical stones, stuck it into a glove, snapped his fingers and killed half the universe because he was under the theory that the universe had finite resources and if everyone kept expanding, they’d eventually kill themselves over what little is left?”

David inclined his head to the side. “Yes, actually. The novelisation was used as a textbook for budding supers. Why?”

“Well, first of all, cannibalism would’ve solved so many problems. And secondly, he wasn’t wrong.”

The super jerked his head back in surprise. “Wait…? Seriously? Are you advocating obliterating half the universe just to save the other half.”

Jacob gave him an exasperated stare. “Not that part. The part where the universe will eventually run out of matter.” He took a sip from his mug and set it down. The black wolf picked up a stylus and began drawing with it on the screen David had spent the last hour over. “Back then, everything was bound together. Every reality, every universe, every person was connected. Everything was ultimately connected to a single point. But that point had its limits. Think of it as a quilt. When someone was born, they would take some thread, a needle and make their own mark on it. This quilt is huge though. So big that it spanned time and space, connecting universes and dimensions. But the problem was, it was still finite.”

“And eventually you’d run out of space,” mumbled David. “What did you end up doing?”

“Cut up the quilt and gave each and every person their own share.”

“How does that solve anything? Just because you gave someone a piece of the quilt, doesn’t that just mean that they have the same amount of quilt but they just don’t encroach on others? You’re worse than the purple guy!”

“There’s some serious FNAF references there.” Jacob rolled his eyes, a smile on his face. “Where do you think people ever got the thread and needle to sew their patches onto the quilt?”

David’s features fell. “I… uh… I…”

“Exactly.” Jacob reached over and poked his forehead lightly, making him lean back and squirm. “The power was inside each and every person all along. Instead of making their own little patch on the same quilt shared by everyone else, I taught them how to make the quilt instead.” He spread his arms, beaming. “Now, everyone has the capacity to design their own. It doesn’t have to be a quilt. Maybe they want to make a hat. Maybe a mitten or a pair of socks. Hell, they could make a hahnensocke if they wanted.”

Though he considered himself fairly well-travelled, David had never heard of a ‘hahnensocke’. Being caught between admitting he wasn’t as worldly as he thought himself to be in front of this intruder or just staying silent, he begrudgingly admitted he didn’t know everything. “A what?”

“It’s a…” Jacob frowned and shook his head. “Never mind. It’s not for polite company. My point is, that’s what I did along with my friends and family. Everyone who was originally connected to the primary quilt is now an owner of their own story. Most of them end up creating dimensions of their own. It’s up to them if they want to do what I did and elevate those that they created to have the rights to their own tales. I can’t interfere unless they ask me to.”

David mulled this over, cupping the mug in his paws. “And that’s what’s happening now, isn’t it? The creators of this universe asked you to intervene. With severely restricted powers.”

“Pretty much.”

“So you’re like… the original superhero?”

Jacob grimaced and picked up his mug again. “Don’t tell Caleb but I absolutely hate that title. Back when I was still running around trying to figure out who I was, my brother tried to paint me as the guy that would fly in and make everything better.” He chugged half of his drink before swirling the mug to get the chocolate that had sunk to the bottom to mix in. “I just did what I think was right. Not to say that what I did was right. Made a lot of mistakes. Learned from them.”

David glanced at the screen where Jacob had drawn a large grid. “Do they miss their families? I mean, if everyone gets their own patch, makes their own quilt, doesn’t that mean they’re all alone?”

“I never said that they weren’t capable of collaborating. Why do you think some pantheons consist of multiple deities?” Jacob winked at him. “Besides, myself and the other No Ones have our own worlds that have basically become highways and meeting places between realities. You should visit this amazing cafe that a group have set up in my place. They mix red bean paste and matcha tea with coffee. I’m not normally a fan of coffee but the red bean gives it a sweetness and texture that is simply amazing.”

“And what do you get out of it, exactly?” he asked, staring at Jacob grimly. “I know we superheroes always boast about doing the right thing and being there to help people but let’s face it, everyone has ulterior motives. The Elemental Alliance does it for the fame and fortune. Others do it so they can don’t feel useless over having power they can’t use. Villains use their powers for whatever they want. What do you get out of it?”

Jacob smiled at him softly. “What do you get the man who has everything or can get anything he ever wanted?”

“Is that a trick question? Is the answer ‘nothing’?”

The No One gave him a gentle smile. “Experience, David. You give him experience. He may boast that he has everything but that’s impossible. Every second is different from the last. Anyone who tells you otherwise is an idiot. Anyone who says they have everything is a moron. I gladly accept requests from those I’ve helped because I know that each one will be different and I will continue to grow as I experience them. It’s what makes me glad to be mortal. I’m not static. I can keep changing. Even in eternity, I can keep changing.”

David lifted the mug towards his muzzle. “Sounds to me like you’re just bored.”

Jacob threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh. “Maybe! But if I were to spend eternity someway, I’d prefer to spend it helping others.” He gave David a light nudge with his knuckles. “And admit it. You’re happy I’m actually on your side instead of the Gene Stealers.”

To that, he had to concede. “Yeah, yeah. You’ve done right by us so far. I’m still not 100% sure about you but so far, you’ve been good.”

“Glad to hear it.” Legion set his now empty mug down. “Incidentally, I got a tip that Caleb is going to try to invite me over to your place for dinner in the hopes that I’ll create more chaos in your already turbulent family life. Now I don’t know how you want to approach this.” He tilted his head to the left. “I’m honestly in favour of everyone getting along cordially to mess with him…” Then he turned his head to the right. “But then again, I think there’s a lot of tension that needs to be released from everyone and we might just want to push him over the edge so that he’d be more vocal of why he’d go to such lengths to keep you off his back.”

David jerked his head back in surprise, doubt creeping in. “Who told you this?”

“Mary.”

That doubt faded. If there was anyone that was inclined of meddle in the Hale Family Troubles, it would be Mary. Sometimes, he was glad for her interferences but other times, she was just plain nosey. And manipulative. “Ah… Of course.” He frowned grimly at his mug. “Why would Caleb want that?”

“It think it’s best that he tell you but again, I’m not sure how you want to go about this.” He held up a finger. “I’d avoid direct confrontation, however. Trying to just talk to him will unfortunately get him to throw up his defences and that puppy, while expressive, has a talent for forgetting something and regretting it later.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you know that he’s irritated by the fact that he’s being painted as a ‘goody-goody’?”

That he did not know and it made him question everything that he had been trying to do to promote Caleb’s image. His son made a few mistakes every now and then and David had to play damage control to get the media to spin it in a positive light but he didn’t know that it was actually damaging Caleb’s confidence in himself.

“I didn’t know. Whenever I tried to fix his problems, he’s always so panicked over what he did that I can’t help but be protective…”

“And that’s the thing. Caleb tends to live in the moment. Favours compressing a situation to its simplest forms. He will stress about what happened at that point in time without taking into consideration how he’d feel later.”

David nodded slowly. “I think I see what you’re saying.” A soft laugh left his lips and he pulled the mug to his lips. His tongue lashed out at hot air and he realised with dismay that the hot chocolate was gone. “I’m not sure what to do either but I think I’ll need to take some time to figure out what to do. Just do me a favour?”

“Make up some bullshit excuse to avoid the dinner?” Jacob asked.

Feral Steel rolled his eyes and set his mug down. “Don’t tell me you’re also psychic.”

“No. That was obvious just like how it’s fairly obvious while you’d like more hot chocolate, you probably want a cold beer right now.”

“You sure you’re not psychic?” David laughed.

“Not one of the powers I have right now.” Jacob leapt off the table. “Come on. Director Rage doesn’t like alcohol on the ship but I happen to also be a bartender in this world and if there’s anything a bartender knows, it’s how to get booze.”

David hated to admit it, but he was warming over to Jacob. “Can you make me a tequila sunshine?”

Legion stopped in his tracks and turned his head slowly towards David with one eyebrow raised. “Isn’t that a little…?”

“Gay?” David shrugged absently. “I’m bi. Sue me.”

Jacob shrugged. “Alrighty then. One tequila sunshine coming up!”

******

West California High School was built along the designs of such institutions in the United States over a thousand years ago naturally with some modifications to accommodate the advanced technology and occasional supervillain attack. The rusty, red buildings, classrooms that could fit - at most - thirty people, large lush grounds geared towards guiding its students towards physical excellence. Thousands of students spent more time on its campus than they did at home and teachers groomed the minds of tomorrow within its hallowed halls. Once of the very traditional buildings was the cafeteria which was built with its entire western wall made of glass with an unobstructed view of the grassy fields outside where students could be seen eating amongst the snow. The high ceiling carried the echoes of conversation into the highly sensitive ears of fur and human alike. The line for food was lengthy as always but Caleb was lucky enough to have packed his own lunch today.

Or so he thought.

“Aw man,” he groaned, peering into the bag. “Tuna salad.”

Mary cocked an eyebrow at him. “What’s so wrong with tuna salad? It’s healthy.”

“It’s the portion sizes,” he mumbled.

“Knowing your lupine appetite, your portion could feed half of the school.” She reached over and peered into the brown paper bag. Even she had to frown at the meagre single sandwich sitting in there. “Uh… Caleb, surely you didn’t think a single sandwich would be enough to feed your starving belly.”

“I wasn’t the one that prepared it!” The moment those words left his muzzle, he was filled with instantaneous regret. High school was a constant balancing act between social prestige, grades and personal gratification. Any signs of weakness or vulnerability could turn even the staunchest of friends into a ferocious jackal ready to feast on his flesh and bones. “I - I - I mean -”

“Who made your lunch for you, Caleb?” Mary asked, her eyes narrowing while her rosy lips turned upwards slightly.

“Yeah bae,” Lars crooned, leaning against him even those he wore a predatory smile. “Who else is feeding you meat?”

Lars McLeod was, first and foremost, Caleb’s best friend but late last year, they had crossed the line from being friendship to _boy_friendship. Though Lars had been very respectful of the status quo, there were times when he would play jump rope with that line. Like now, for instance. He had one, big, meaty paw wrapped around Caleb’s broad shoulders while the doberman shuffled closer until their thick legs were pressed against one another. It was almost possessive but the look in his eyes gave the young wolf flashbacks of when they would mock each other - sometimes hurtfully - over the slightest question to their masculinity.

“Oh lay off him,” Benjamin Connors said, waving a hand in his direction. “I get someone to make my lunch all the time.

Ben appeared to be a stereotypical skinny purveyor of nerd culture with bright red hair and thick, square glasses but in reality, he was the notorious villain known as Blood Wolf, member of the Alpha Pack. Arsenal received a lot of controversy over their alliance with renowned supervillains and with their chilling relationship with the Elemental Alliance, more than a few people considered them closer to the villainous side than heroic. Though it was impossible to tell from Ben’s freckled face that he was known for mass murders, torture and - at times - stock manipulation. Or that he was older than everyone else by at least several decades.

“That doesn’t count,” Lars growled. “If someone else is making food for my boyfriend, I want to know.”

There was a thud on the table. They all turned towards the female wolf sitting next to Ben. Rhiannon leaned across the table, a dagger embedded into the plastic, pinning a cockroach there. The ever fluid Hound of Destruction had opted to sport short-cropped, fluorescent green hair with the new year. Her athletic build and rather ample bosom was typical of wolves in the 31st century even though her outfit was far from typical. ‘Noisy’ was the best way to describe it. From the black, steel-toed boots, the bright red chainmail skirt to the bright blue denim shirt with frayed edges that exposed her midriff that Caleb was fairly sure were a pair of shorts she just cut arm holes into, she just screamed, ‘pay attention to me’. One of the teachers obliged and moved over to her.

“Ms. Bananahammock,” the man said with a deep frown. “Weapons are not allowed in the cafeteria.”

“I’m pretty sure cockroaches are against health regulations too,” she said with a wink. Rhia plucked the dagger off the table, bug and all. “And yet here we are. So how about you turn around and forget about all this and I’ll forget about this little sucker?” She drew circles in the air with the blade. Before the poor educator could respond, Rhia lifted the blade towards her lips and bit on the pointed end. She made a show of running her long, flat, lupine tongue around the sharpened edge before pulling it away from her lips - the cockroach gone. She chewed very loudly.

All the blood drained from the teacher’s face and he just turned around and left.

“I didn’t know we had a cockroach problem,” Caleb commented, glad for the distraction.

“We don’t,” Rhia said with a smirk. She winked at him slyly. “I brought it myself.”

There were so many questions he wanted to ask but decided not to venture any further.

Ashton, who sat opposite to Mary but thankfully on the opposite side of Ben, turned away from her as he grimaced. The tiger pushed his plastic tray away from him. “I think I’ve just lost my appetite. Someone say something to distract me.” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, Caleb, didn’t you bust some D-list villain on the weekend with Jacob?”

“Yeah,” he answered with a shrug. “Some weirdo. Called himself ‘Tibia’.”

“As in the shinbone?” Lars asked, straightened and dropping his ‘clingy boyfriend’ facade. “What was his power?”

“This.”

Whack!

He kicked Lars’ shin under the table and the doberman let out a yelp. His boyfriend and the star quarterback for the football team instinctively made to lift his leg up and clutch his shin but in doing so, forgot that he was a 7-foot-tall canine with very well-developed legs. So, when he lifted his leg, Lars banged his knee on the underside of the table and immediately knocked over all the drinks everyone had. “Yow! Sonofabitch!”

“Lars! Watch it!” Mary cried, lifting her salad from the table before it could get wet.

“Blame Caleb! He kicked me!”

“After all your training, you couldn’t take a single kick to the shins?” Ben mocked. “Some hero.”

Rhia just grinned wanly while picking her teeth with her dagger. “Ah chaos. Love it.”

Caleb snickered, quietly tucking his paper bag away. “Funny. Jake had exactly the same reaction. Tibia’s ability was to give you that stinging pain in your shins like you’ve been kicked. And that’s it.”

The Hound of Destruction’s features fell. “That…”

“Lame?” He rested his head on the table, trying to ignore the gnawing hunger in his stomach. “Stupid? Shitty? Take your pick.”

“No. It’s downright diabolical!” Rhia’s bright red eyes shone.

Not the words he was expected and thus Caleb perked his ears up in surprise. “Come again?”

Ashton chimed in, waving a fork through the air as he spoke in his British drawl. “Imagine, if you will, an army bearing down upon you. Now imagine you were Tibia. These highly-trained killing machines would never expect a sudden, sharp shooting pain in their shins of all places. You could sow chaos into their ranks as they fall to their knees - literally - trying to figure out where the pain is coming from.”

Ben rubbed his hands together. “Imagine the kinds of truths you could expose by subjecting people to hour upon hour of agony. I wonder if he can extend his abilities to the funny bone.”

“Ooooh!” Rhiannon exclaimed, dagger pointed at the werewolf. “That’s an amazing idea! Maybe we should expose him to radiation and see if his powers will mutate!”

Blood Wolf gave her a pointed stare. “You do realise all you’ll give him is hair loss and cancer, right?”

“I see nothing wrong with that statement.”

Caleb sighed longingly. The myriad of voices and idle chatter was what he missed. Everything was so simple. For a moment, there were no superheroes, demigods, villainous plots and unknown futures. They were just a group of kids hanging out, talking and having fun. Why couldn’t things be this simple anymore?

Another tray arrived and its owner parked himself at the end of the table. Alex Connery was a human gymnast and had become a friend of Caleb’s last year during the Gnoll attacks. He came in on and off as he had his own busy schedule but he was a welcome sight.

The short, compact young man was grinning brightly. “Hey guys. What’s the news?”

“Just talking about the guy that got busted yesterday,” answered Mary. “Tibia was his name.”

Alex’s features darkened. “Oh. Him.”

The sudden shift into gloom was uncharacteristic for Alex. He was usually very cheery, bright and often quick with the jokes.

“What’s wrong, Alex?” Caleb asked. “The guy wasn’t related to you, was he?”

The gymnast shook his head, his brown hair waving slightly as he had grown it out for the winter where gymnastics had taken a rest for the season. “No. Didn’t you hear?”

“What?”

“The Society of Shadows has picked up Tibia’s case.”

“Huh? Who are they?”

By Ben’s groan, he realised that it was probably not a good thing. The werewolf slapped his forehead and ran it down his face, dragging out the expression to the point where he dislodged his glasses.

“Fuck… The Society. You basically take a really evil, corrupt lawyer and a demon from the darkest depths of Hell and them have them make really angry sex with one another. Not the kind where you’re yelling and screaming at one another through tears. The kind with spikes, maces, bondage gear and lots of contorted bodies that seems so wrong on the outside but once you strap yourself in, you can’t help but scream, ‘More Daddy! More!’”

Caleb shuffled his chair a few inches away from Ben. Everyone else did the same.

“Anyway…” Alex said, keeping his eyes cautiously on Ben. “The Society are lawyers for villains. There’s still such a thing as due process, after all, and even though a supervillain may do something really heinous, the Society will represent them. Most of the time, they actually win.”

“How!?” Ashton exclaimed. “If you murder two dozen people on the street in cold blood, how could you possibly argue to acquit?”

“Insanity. Undue force. Society.” Alex shrugged helplessly. “Take your pick. From what I’ve read…” The gymnast reached into his satchel bag and plucked out his tablet, scrolling through the news. “The Society is planning to argue that Tibia legitimately has superpowers even if they are unconventional. People are already speculating that they’re going to play the angle that because Tibia applied to the Elemental Alliance and was laughed out, he had no choice but to turn to villainy. They’ll probably throw evidence that because society throws a stigma upon those with ‘useless’ superpowers, his only choices were to either turn to crime or move to Australia.”

Ben growled, showing a bit more of his lupine side. “Patriotism and sympathy. They’ll twist people’s words and run the argument that if they say Tibia should have moved to another country where people are more open about their powers, then those very same people are un-American.”

“That doesn’t really work, does it?” Caleb asked. “I mean, that’s not true. Everyone has a choice!”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not,” Alex said. “It’s enough to muddy the waters and cast reasonable doubt. Besides, all this guy did was steal an ATM. Didn’t even get away with it. Didn’t hurt anyone. Best case, they’ll get him a reduced sentence. Worst case, he walks. Maybe have to go to a psychologist twice a week or something.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“That’s the system.”

Caleb growled and balled his paws into fists. “That’s just not right.”

“You want to know what makes it worse?” Ben rumbled, crossing his arms. In the light of the cafeteria, Caleb could see the werewolf’s deep, brown eyes flash red for a moment. “There are rumours that the Society recruits those people that they save. Supposedly, they ‘rehabilitate’ them by making them ‘upstanding citizens’. Some of their lawyers are former villains.”

Mary sighed and speared some lettuce with her fork. “Let me guess. There are reports of these very same ‘citizens’ running around using their powers for nefarious ends but nothing can ever be proven.”

“Exactly. Chances are, the Society bribes, blackmails or outright plants its own into the courts so that the rulings always end up in their favour. If you’re a villain and the Society aims its crosshairs at you, you’re probably going to go free.”

“Free into what?” Rhiannon asked. “Into the service of a multinational conglomerate far larger than yourself or you can ever imagine? From my experience, all villains are self-serving. The Society has got to have some pull but ultimately, the people they ‘recruit’ can’t be very smart if they’re willing to fall in line. Give it enough time and the Society will collapse. Someone will make a power grab and that whole thing will come tumbling down.” She pointed her blade at Ben. “And don’t bother telling me that the Society has been around for hundreds of years. I already know that. It’s probably changed hands or been broken and rebuilt over those years many times over. I wouldn’t worry.” She grinned savagely at him. “Besides, I never thought you of all people would be on the side of imprisoning a villain.”

“I just don’t like the idea of the Society, okay?” Ben huffed. “And besides, weren’t we talking about the fact that Caleb had someone pack his measly lunch for him?”

Caleb’s ears folded back and he growled at his friend. “Low blow, Ben. Low blow.”

“That’s right!” exclaimed Rhiannon. “I almost forgot about how Caleb’s mom made him his lunch!”

Suddenly all eyes were on Weapons Master and Caleb’s cheeks were afire with embarrassment.

“Your mom made your lunch for you?” Ashton repeated. “Caleb, surely you must be joking.”

“I usually buy my lunch here, okay?” he protested. “But all our funds are going to my mom’s mayoral bid and…” Conscious of his surroundings, he thought fast so as not to expose Arsenal. “… and my sister’s wedding and other shit. So money is a little tight!”

“Yeah, but even you have got to know how to make a tuna salad sandwich,” Lars said. “Come on, Cale. You’re a big boy. You tell me you still get your mommy to make your lunches for you. Does she leave a note to wish you a good day at school?”

There goes Lars again playing with that fine line between best friend and boyfriend - at least in public.

“I don’t need this right now,” he snarled, bolting to his feet. “I’m out of here.”

“Aw, come on, Cale! We were just joking!”

He spun away from his ‘friends’ and flicked out his phone. “Yeah, well I’m not. I’m going to grab lunch out.” There was no doubt that Mary was going to try and probe his emotions and thoughts with her powers so he made sure to tell her he just needed space and then began reciting the Pledge of Allegiance in Latin backwards to keep her out of his mind. She got the hint and urged the others to stay back and just let him fume.

The problem was, he was still starving and he was telling the truth. Lillian Hale’s mayoral bid pitched her against some rather well-known and well-funded candidates - not the least of which was General Vernon Washington of the US Army. Though local sponsorship and donations were coming in, she still needed to dip into their savings to help her to her feet. On top of that, Abby’s wedding was soon and that was taking an enormous drain on their funds. Arsenal was getting funding from the Alpha Pack even if David was hesitant to take ‘villain money’ as he called it and AEGIS gave them equipment, technology and a mobile base of operations. Still, David Hale was proud and wanted to make sure they earned their own funding and he would not use any of that funding for his own family. Sort of a strange sense of honour there.

Caleb had pooled what savings he had into Arsenal as well. So the once extensive saving account he had was now fully invested in the rag-tag group of Outsiders, superheroes and villains. That left him rather starved both for cash and food. He looked at his phone. It was funny that at one time, the person at the top of his contact list would be Mary or Bren - the cloned super-spy that worked with Arsenal. Now, it was Jacob Reaper. It seemed pathetic to call Jacob to beg for food but unlike his father, he was capable of swallowing his pride and hit the call button.

“Hello?” came the sleepy reply.

“Jake? Hey… uh… It’s me.”

There was a soft mumbling on the other end. “Caleb? What time is it…?”

“Uh… just a little after noon.” He threw his packed lunch into the garbage. What Mary had failed to mention was that the sandwich had not been wrapped up and though he was sure his stressed mother had arranged it well this morning, after jostling around in Caleb’s bag, it was more like a tuna salad with large bread-sized croutons soaking through a brown paper bag. “Did you just get up.”

Shuffling could be heard and that was followed by a yawn. “Yeah. I do have a job, you know. One that takes me out fairly late.”

“You’re still bartending?” he asked incredulously. “Don’t you get paid enough for your show?”

“Yeah, I suppose but it’s not about the money. It’s the experience. Besides, I like bartending. Gives me material for my show. Anyway, what’s up?”

Now he felt bad for bothering Jacob but his stomach rumbled hungrily. “I… Wanna meet up for lunch?”

There was a long pause from the other end.

“I’m going to go out on a limb here… Did your mother give you something horrible for lunch? No wait, this world has you wolves eat voraciously. Not enough?”

“Something like that.”

“It’s a school day so a sit down lunch is probably a bad idea. And don’t even think about suggesting skipping class. Your dad will have my ass if he finds out you didn’t attend physics because you were hanging out with me. Just come on over. I can probably whip up something.”

Tail wagging, Caleb said, “I’ll be there in ten!”

He was already rushing to his gold and black motorcycle, Ballistic, and placing his wool-lined leather riding jacket by the time he hung up. Helmet on head, he kicked up the silent engine of his ever-faithful steed and drove out of West California High as far as the speed limit would let him. With it being the middle of a school day, the streets were mostly empty and he was able to weave in and out of traffic with ease as he headed to the heart of the city where Jacob kept his apartment. It always amazed him that despite his skyrocketing fame, Legion kept rather modest lodgings - namely a rent-controlled apartment on the seventh floor of a relatively modern building. He didn’t even have a balcony. When asked if he was ever harassed by the paparazzi or reporters, Jacob said that since he wasn’t an official superhero or registered with any super institution, people left him alone. With no records to understand his background save for an existence that started about six months ago, people were more likely to get hurt around him than get anything worth the risk. He played on the same reasoning behind how Tibia could get off his crimes; society looked at anyone with any powers that wasn’t part of some official guild or organisation with disdain and stigmatised them. A reason why even David Hale had been against Arsenal for a long time until he joined them as their official sponsor.

When he arrived at Jacob’s apartment, he parked Ballistic in the rear and happily padded over to the rear entrance. Using the key that Jacob had given him, he entered the structure and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time before entering the apartment itself. The modest lodgings consisted of a simple two bedroom layout shaped like a horseshoe. Straight ahead was the lounge/dining room where Jacob had a couch and TV set up beside the windows. The kitchen was positioned to the left side of the room while behind that was the laundry room. A short distance away in the left hand ‘arm’ of the ‘U’ was a bedroom that remained locked and that Caleb had never been inside. On the opposite side of the apartment was the master bedroom and a bathroom. When asked why Jacob had opted for a two bedroom apartment if he was living alone, Jacob had simply said he had need of the second bedroom. One of his greatest secrets was what remained inside said bedroom.

Hair mussed and fur a little dishevelled, Jacob was cutting up what appeared to be a butternut pumpkin at the kitchen island.

“You ever worry that someone could just come in here and attack you?” Caleb asked. “I mean, you have got to have a lot of enemies, right?”

“I’ve just been in the superhero business here for a little over six months,” said the black and gold wolf, stifling a yawn. “Most of that time has been spent fighting Genesians and the occasional team-up with you. I don’t have an archenemy just yet. Few people are willing given how my abilities are still largely unknown.”

To those that did not know the truth, Jacob’s only real superpower was the inability to feel pain. To the public, however, Jacob Reaper possessed a vast arsenal of incredibly powerful weaponry that he could summon at a moment’s notice. Each weapon was different and seemed to be sentient, each with varied abilities and properties.

“I suppose that’s fair,” Caleb said, parking himself on the couch, draping his arms across the back. “What’s for lunch?”

“Pumpkin mac ‘n cheese.”

He swivelled his ears around in confusion. “Huh?”

“Sorry I couldn’t make something a little more hearty. I was up at the Cornucopia last night going over some things with Rage. Crashed like a brick this morning.”

He suddenly felt guilty for exploiting the wolf like this. “Oh… uh… Sorry. If you want I could -”

“Nah. I was going to get up anyway. Got to prepare my material for tonight’s show.” Jacob gave him a curious look. “So your mom’s lunch today was a little underwhelming?”

“She’s been a mess recently,” Caleb sighed. “Between Abby’s wedding, her mayoral bid and then dad and Leon going at each other’s throats almost every night, it’s a wonder how she can still cook, clean and make lunch for me… Not to mention budgeting, shopping and all the other things moms do.”

“Ever thought about taking some off the load from her shoulders?”

“What do you mean? Like campaign for her? I asked dad that but he said that could be a double edged sword. Arsenal isn’t really that popular and given all the shit we go through, not to mention how we wreck the city every time we go on an outing, backing mom would lose more votes than win them.”

That conversation had been painful. Poor Lillian Hale was stretched thin as it was and she didn’t have the sexual release that came with dominating her husband anymore given that David was on his way to becoming a werewolf and could potentially be dangerous in bed. When Caleb had asked Bren or Elliot, they had agreed with David’s assessment. Arsenal could not support Lillian Hale’s mayoral bid. If they went down or screwed up, so would she. That was not something Caleb wanted to do for his mother.

“Actually, I was thinking about something simpler. Maybe you could cook?”

Caleb winced and folded his ears back. “I… uh… I never learned how.”

Jacob set down his knife in surprise. He placed both paws on the counter and stared at Caleb plainly. “You’re kidding me. You’re 18 years old, going on nineteen, a 31st century wolf, built like a tank, the star wide receiver of a high school and an Outsider, the face of Arsenal, and you don’t know how to cook?”

“Look, not everyone is as knowledgeable as you, Oh Great Leader of an interdimensional group of superheroes.”

Jacob rolled his eyes. “I know this point is moot but when I was your age, I knew how to hunt, cook and clean. Then again, I did have a job that was a cross between a courier, super-spy and mercenary but still.” He waved Caleb over. “Get over here. I’m going to teach you how to cook. Maybe if your mom isn’t worried about feeding your family, she’d at least have some time to focus on other things.”

There was no arguing with that point but Caleb was still a stereotypical teenage alpha male and that left him with an inclination to stay away from the kitchen unless it was in search for food. “Come on, man,” he moaned. “I’m useless in the kitchen. I mean, I can barely wield my weapons. You expect me to go around waving a butcher’s knife.”

“I could give you some feminist spiel about typical gender roles,” Jacob answered. “But I’m sure you’ll get that from your mother of femincess of a sister.”

“Femincess?”

“Feminist-Princess. The kind of woman who will go on and on about equality for women and yet will still squeal like a little girl the moment you put a tiara on her head. Opposite to the equato - Equality Potato which is the guy that will outwardly be leftist and pro-equality but do nothing about it and at the same time, when you challenge their masculinity they will go off into a rage.”

“Huh… I know a few people like that.”

“Right. But back to my point, get up here and help me cook. It’s a little past half past twelve now. It takes you about ten minutes to get here. That leaves us about fifteen minutes to cook and eat this or you’ll be late for class. So either you help me out here or you miss out on class.”

Caleb waved his paw absently in Jacob’s direction. “I’ve skipped classes before.”

“Have you ever skipped class with Gwen looking over your shoulder?”

Just the mention of Jacob’s companion sent chills down Caleb’s spine. Though technically part of the same team against the threat of the Genesians, Gwen was more like the underground spy or surgical strike team. Arcturus acted as reconnaissance and Jacob was the bait, the only one in the public eye so that General Washington could have something to focus his attention on while drawing focus away from the others. That did not stop Gwen from training the members of Arsenal on the Cornucopia between missions, however. Sessions with her were far more brutal than anything Elliot or David’s simulations could generate.

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbled, rising from the couch. “What do you need me to do?”

“Boil some of the macaroni. In the reactive heater, it should only take thirty seconds. That’ll give me time to finish with this pumpkin.”

Caleb poured some water into a bowl and added some of the macaroni that was set aside. He placed it in the futuristic metal box a short distance away and shut the door. The device scanned the contents of the bowl and immediately identified the type of food and optimal temperature for it to be as hot as possible without erupting into flames. Naturally, Caleb was asked to confirm to proceed and he hit the ‘yes’ on the dynamic, touch screen beside the device’s door. The microwave-oven-like device instantly went to work, bombarding the bowl with heat and causing a reaction within the food to bring it to the best temperature and consistency. It even stirred the contents of the bowl with a metal spoon to make sure all parts of the macaroni were appropriately heated. Once it was done, he pulled it out and set it on the table.

“What next?”

“Get the pot and pour some oil in it. Got lightly saute these onions.”

He did as he was told, placing the plasma-proof pot on the plasma burner. Jacob clearly wasn’t using his funds from doing his show and working two jobs if he was still using an old plasma stove. The stove back at home was an advanced particle burner. The bright green flames heated the pot very quickly and pouring some oil into it caused it to sizzle. Jacob carried over a chopping board of onions and handed it to Caleb.

“Pour these in there and let them cook for a bit. Stir it until the onions are lightly browned and translucent.”

Easy enough, Caleb thought, and gently pushed the onions into the pot with a spoon. After a bit of stirring, the super-hot pot had browned the edges of the onions while leaving most of their body mostly clear. “They’re ready.”

“Great. Grab the goats cheese from the fridge and chuck it in.”

“You can get cheese from goats? How?”

“Anything with tits can generally be milked and said milk turned into milk-like products. I once read this article of this woman who made cheese from her -”

Caleb immediately plugged her ears and rushed to the refrigerator. “La-la-la-la! I’m not listening!”

He was able to find the goats cheese. A quick sniff of it revealed an odd neutral scent. Curious, he took a spoon and extracted a small part of the crumbly, white cheese. The moment he tasted it, he gagged and coughed. “Shit! That’s… pungent! You sure you want t his in a mac ‘n cheese?”

“It’s strong, yes,” Jacob answered, setting his chopped pumpkin bits into the reactive heater with some water. “But the flavour of the goat’s cheese will be mellowed out by the sweetness of the pumpkin and the savouriness of the onion. Just trust me on this. I’ve made this millions of times.”

Since he was effectively mooching off Jacob, he was in no position to argue so he just agreed and poured the cheese into the bot of sizzling onions. He half-expected the cheese to burn given how it was so chunky. To his surprise, it began to melt. Curious, he began to stir the concoction, letting the onion flavour suffuse into the white, milky sauce. A loud ‘ding’ indicated Jacob’s pumpkins were done and he carried over softened vegetables to the pot.

“I know you wolves tend to scarf down all the food in front of you without really tasting it but to the rest of us, eating is as much as an experience as it is an exercise in nourishment. Balancing flavours, texture, presentation and even scent are all important.”

The mushy pumpkin began to meld seamlessly with the goat’s cheese and onion, making a pale yellow sauce that smelled both sweet and savoury at the same time. Caleb’s stomach began to growl in anticipation. Taking the cooked macaroni, he offered the bowl to Jacob who poured the noodles into the sauce. The interdimensional super taught Caleb the difference between stirring and folding as they folded the sauce in with the macaroni. To add freshness to the concoction, Jacob added some fresh chives and some bacon bits for texture.

Lunch was served a short while later and they sat in front of the couch, the TV on while Caleb had a large bowl of macaroni in front of him. Jacob had one considerably smaller.

Caleb grabbed a spoonful of the macaroni and immediately shoved it into his muzzle. Though he was already halfway to a second bite, the texture and taste of the dish made him pause.

“Wow… This is really good,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” Jacob answered with a smile. “One of the common truths amongst universes is food. Well… most of them. I once went to this world where they nourished one another on emotions. Society was divided into the ‘Light’ and ‘Dark’ side with one side feasting on one another’s positive vibes and the other devouring each other’s negative emotions.”

“Sounds like the typical good and evil set up right there,” Caleb said through a muzzle full of food.

“You’d be surprised. The Light side was extremely hedonistic and actually borderline sadomasochistic. In order to sustain themselves and their society, they had to experience more and more extreme pleasures so that they could live on. Sure they had dazzling cities but beneath all the gloss and glam were bloody orgies and what some might call torture. The Dark side benefited more from pragmatism. Sure they were dour, scattered and a little depressing but they were practical.”

Caleb swallowed hard. “What did you end up doing?”

“Nothing. The creator of the place wanted me to ‘fix’ the people there but the way I saw it, they were perfectly fine. Sure their status quo was not how the creator thought it should be but just because your kids don’t turn out the way you want them to be, it doesn’t mean you should go in and give them the divine equivalent of a lobotomy so that they’ll be ‘better’.”

And here he had thought of Jacob as a sort of divine mercenary who would intervene for the highest bidder. It seemed that he didn’t take all jobs that were offered to him after all. It made him feel a little more special.

A soft clink notified him that he had hit the bottom of the bowl. Sated but not stuffed, Caleb set down the dish on the coffee table and let out a contented sigh.

“You know, you should come over to our place. Maybe cook something like this. I’m sure my mom would appreciate it.”

“I’m sure she’d appreciate you cooking for yourself every once in a while,” Jacob answered.

“Yeah but just like with everything, baby steps right? Come on over some time and help me cook up a dinner. I can learn some stuff from you and we all get to eat together.” He nudged Jacob lightly with an elbow. “Abby might even ask you to cater her wedding.”

Jacob swatted him away playfully. “I think I have enough jobs between hospital orderly, nightly bartender and weekly talk show host. The network is even thinking about bumping up my segment to nightly but I don’t think I’d have the energy for that.”

Caleb thought fast. “Move in with us.”

The black and gold wolf recoiled. “I’m pretty sure I put chives in this mac ‘n cheese, not pot. So I’m fairly sure you’re not high.”

“Seriously. Move in with us. The reason you’re taking up these jobs is so that if General Washington were to attack you, he’d have to deal with the fact that he attacked the sick and innocent. But if you drop the jobs and come stay with us, the family of a mayoral candidate - the same candidate that’s going up against Washington - he can’t send anyone against you! My mom would even be safe from any sort of retaliation and it’d do wonders for her campaign!”

Jacob grimaced softly. “That… actually makes some sense. Particularly since you live in the suburbs, any attack there would be considered an attack of the very heart of America. What’s more, if anyone were to attack, they wouldn’t know that a family of supers lives there and I’d have the element of surprise.” He buried his muzzle in his paws. “Shit… why am I talking myself into this?” Straightening, Jacob said, “Caleb, I’m not putting your or your family’s life at risk over this. Leave the Genesians to us. You take care of the Gene Stealers.”

“You’ve already given us protection and a base on the Cornucopia,” Caleb insisted. “Let us give something back. At least have dinner with us.” He held up a finger. “Once. Come on. Try it. You said it yourself. You came here without friends, family or even a high school diploma. Won’t it be nice to have a family here?”

“I have a family, thanks.” Jacob glanced off to the left. “A very unconventional once but still…” The superhero wolf rubbed his temples. “I’ll give it some thought.”

“Even the dinner?”

“If I say yes, will it make you drop this subject?”

“Yeah!” Caleb replied, tail wagging.

“Fine. How about we schedule it for two weeks from now?”

“Why not this weekend?”

Jacob hiked a thumb at the holo-vid screen a representative from the Society was boasting how they would get Salazar Shin off without issue. “I have an inkling I’ll be busy this week.”

Caleb’s heart sank. “Yeah… I get that.” A soft beeping warned him that he was due back at school. “Thanks for lunch, Jake. I’ll catch you later!”

Though he would’ve loved to do some dishes, he really needed to get back to school. Ten minutes would be enough for him to get back to West California High School and he would have another ten before classes officially began. That would ensure he would avoid Gwen’s wrath. He shut the door behind him and bolted down the stairs, tail wagging the entire way. The moment he was out of earshot range, he let out a loud ‘whoop’ and thrust a fist into the air.

Somehow, he had managed to get Jacob Reaper to agree to dinner at his house.

His dad was not going to like that.

******

They were all laughing. Again.

Salazar Shin fumed, snarling quietly to himself as he was hauled over to a prison for supers. This was not the infamous Bal-Mordain. No. That was only for the most problematic and powerful of supervillains. He was being hauled over to a local county jail. A minimum security prison. Sure they had anti-super fields erected that would prevent him from using his powers but after the breakout at Bal-Mordain by Gnoll of the Gene Stealers, this sort of equipment became readily available to all jails. Apparently this was all part of General Vernon Washington’s plan to get elected as mayor of West California Island.

It was still a grave insult.

The least they could’ve done for a dangerous villain like himself was to throw him into some asylum for the criminally insane. But no. They laughed at his powers. Laughed at his attempt at a larceny. Laughed at him! They didn’t even think to ship him out in his own armoured vehicle or convoy. He was bundled up with seven other minor criminals like someone had bought them at the discount supervillain bin at the local Costco! None of the others he recognised. Though they should recognise him. After all, he was Tibia!

“What’re ya in fer?”

The question came from the biggest of the villains, the one right next to Tibia and was squashing him against the door of the armoured truck. The guy was human, as was the rest of them. Despite that, he stood at least seven feet tall and brimming with muscles though had a distinct belly that strained the bright, orange prison jumpsuit he wore.

“Robbing a convenience store,” Shin grumbled.

“A convenience store?” laughed the guy opposite him. This little, scrawny red-head was one half of a pair of twins. His twin sat right next to him. Both were athletic but appeared pencil thin compared either Tibia or his neighbour. They both had deep, beady black eyes.

“What are you, twelve?” chimed in his twin.

“Yeah! We were robbing convenience stores when we were twelve!”

“Twelve and a half, really, Pins.”

“Oh that’s just semantics, Needles.”

So they were Pins and Needles. How cute.

Ignoring them, Shin turned towards the brute beside him. “What about you? What did you do?”

“Torture,” rumbled the big guy. “Went into a store. Strung everyone up in leather. Made them scream.” The hulking man grinned but there was a dimness in his eyes that made it seem like he wasn’t all there. “It was delicious.”

Now how was it that he wasn’t in a maximum security prison?

“I know what you’re wondering,” rumbled the the man next to the twins. He had an unusually large forehead and his skin was a strange, pallid grey. With his deep, black eyes, he seemed almost like one of those stereotypical aliens with the huge heads and penchant for probing people. “How is the Gimp here not being hauled over to Bal-Mordain?” The man shook his head. “He has the uncontrollable power to absorb all pain and damage into himself within a certain radius. So even though he was whipping and torturing all those people in the adult sex store he entered, they weren’t actually feeling it. He was.”

Shin slowly turned towards the one called the Gimp and that creepy smile of his. It was a pity that he could not shirk away further.

“I am the Migraine, by the way.”

“And why are you here? Did they think you escaped from Area 51?”

Pins and Needles giggled loudly while mocking the big-headed villain’s appearance. Migraine ignored them.

“No. I suffer from very painful headaches and the only way I can relieve them is by ‘infecting’ others with it. Apparently they don’t like that during rush hour traffic.”

“Sounds stupid.”

“It was.”

“No. Your powers. It sounds really stupid.”

Migraine snarled at him but he was cut off by a loud cough from the other side of the windowless truck compartment. The man was tall, long and rail-thin. He looked almost skeletal. Unlike the rest of them who had their hands and legs bound by special anti-super handcuffs, this man was wrapped up and mounted on the wall. His short-cropped hair was shaped in an angular fashion, almost like an arrow pointing straight down towards his face.

“If you are all quite done,” he said in a thick, German accent, “I believe we are quite off course.”

“What are you talking about?” Pins asked.

“He thinks he knows everything, Pins,” giggled Needles. “He’s the Scalpel. Really good surgeon and apparently has an excellent memory.”

Shin had heard of the Scalpel. Apparently, he was some amazing surgeon but got sick of his Hippocratic oath. Especially when he was tasked with saving the lives of known criminals and their henchmen. His hospital was one of those that catered to supers somewhere in Germany. However, knowing full well that his skills would eventually put the very villains that caused so much hurt and damage back on the streets, the Scalpel turned to vigilantism. Though without powers of his own, he was notorious for his nefarious doctor-themed weaponry and his efficiency in killing. What he was doing in West California Island and with them was a mystery. The Scalpel had to be at least a B-list villain.

“You do not know these streets as well as I do,” the Scalpel said. “The way from the local precinct’s holding cells to the minimum security prison would have involved taking a right form the cells, driving for four miles until taking a left onto the highway, travelling six miles and exiting on the left before taking a right, left, left, right and then continuing north for twenty miles towards the Californian mainland. We have thus far gone right onto the highway and then taken a left for nine miles. We are nowhere near where we should be.”

A loud, metallic muffled noise came from the last occupant of the cell. This man was big and brawny like the Gimp but had a large, metallic cylinder placed over his head complete with futuristic contraptions. His eyes were hidden behind a black visor.

“Perhaps the divers merely know a shortcut.”

“Highly unlikely,” answered the Scalpel. “I believe, we are being rescued.”

The truck suddenly came to a halt and Tibia could hear shuffling coming from outside. The doors sprung open, revealing the bright, bluish glow of a portal not too far away. The guardsmen ordered them all out. Tibia shuffled forward, curious at his dark surroundings. It appeared that they were in some sort of warehouse. Other guards plucked the Scalpel from where he was mounted and placed him on a gurney that could be propped up vertically. They wheeled him and the rest of the prisoners towards the portal.

“Where are we going?” Needles demanded.

“Yeah! We’re supposed to be in jail!” Pins chimed in.

The guards just told them to shut up and shoved them through the portal. Tibia, his heart in his throat, could only follow them through. As with all portal travel he had ever experienced, there was a moment of bizarre weightlessness followed by the gut-churning sensation of hurling towards his doom. Then there was solid ground beneath his feet again and he was stepping into a large, palace of some sort. It reminded him of some sort of vampire’s palace as there was definitely a gothic motif in the sweeping arches, curved pillars and black and red banners hanging from the ceiling. Only difference was that while vampires tended to favour bats in their architecture, this place inched more towards spiders. Webs had been carved into the pillars while enormous stone spiders were placed on the arches, their legs holding up the ceiling. There was a web design drawn onto the banners with a large ‘SoS’ printed on it.

“The Society of Shadows,” the Scalpel snickered. “Wunderbar.”

The click of high heels brought Tibia to peer down the dark hallway that they had emerged from. A woman dressed in contrasting clothing to their surroundings approached. A long, figure-hugging white robe approached them. She was tall - taller than most humans ought to be - and her raven hair was held up by a spindly, silvery crown inlaid with emeralds. Her high cheekbones and sparkling green eyes would have made her incredibly attractive but there was something about her dark-green lipstick, pale flesh and long, claw-like fingernails that gave Tibia a sense of dread.

“Greetings gentlemen,” she greeted with a predatory smile. “My name is Seraph Dreadfort. I am the leader of the Society of Shadows.”

“Are we supposed to know who you are?” groaned Migraine, rubbing his temples.

Tibia had to admit, he had never heard of this ‘Seraph Dreadfort’. Sure he had heard of the Society but not any ‘leader’.

“Of course,” Seraph chuckled. “I like to keep my identity a secret, after all. However, you may know me by a more… popular alias.”

He dark green eyes glistened.

“I am Spider Queen.”