‘I’m so fucked.’

  Not the most useful reaction to realising that I, along with the whole of Saurian’s crew, have just been played like a side-hustler’s fiddle. No matter how accurate it looks to be. Still, at least it stops me from freaking out and drawing attention to myself straight away. Those three words, and the thought that maybe I should change the I’m to a We’re, being the only things banging around my head while I listen to Ictus start directing the hero opposite him.

  “Use your Power to check the water for Stig. If we’re lucky, he might have got caught on something or managed to avoid being washed too far away.”

  The rough and satisfied tone from earlier is gone. If it was ever his to begin with. The man sounding only tired and increasingly hoarse while he continues relying on the rapidly crumbling arms around his feet, or Schiz, to stay upright. At least until the other hero says something that has him straightening up with an indrawn breath. His slouched posture replaced with an iron rod and his voice holding a note of reprimand that has me bristling even from here.

  “Why? Because we’re heroes Andronicus and-”

  The battered looking man strides over to the railing at the walkways edge as he speaks. His words quickly covered by the sound of rushing water as his steps take him to the edge of my sight. Not something I expect to last for long once he’s done disciplining the other hero. Though I might still have longer than I really should. I’ve heard enough rants from authority figures to know what the start of one sounds like.

  The memory of the one I had to endure just earlier tonight making me grit my teeth as, with a flash of only somewhat self-directed rage, I push myself to my feet. Biting down with a. repressed snarl on the pain of my many bruises and likely more fractures than I can feel right now. Heart beating like mad and breath turning fast and shaky as I mentally talk myself down from doing something foolish. The sewer is not an exit and my odds of getting past the veteran hero to jump into the rapids is almost as low as my chances of not drowning right afterwards. Assuming I don’t just end up in the sewer anyway.

  ‘And I doubt I’m strong or fast enough to push him in. Not that I even can while he’s still holding onto Schiz like that.’

  Reluctantly, I pull my eyes away from the tempting target of Ictus’ back. Reminding myself of my limited time even as, despite myself, my gaze and thoughts linger a little longer on the limp villain he’s using to help hold himself up. Schiz’s feet carving a channel through the thick slurry as she’s dragged behind Ictus through the remains of the crumbling arms. The newly grown hands wrapped around her legs doing nothing to stop her legs and pencil skirt from getting covered in the growing muck. Her own hands only moving once Ictus has come to a stop by the rail where they reach out to grip onto a part Saurian did not shred through.

  A shiver of disgust at the disjointed movement finally giving me the push needed to look away. Turning around to look at the screens on the wall where the hero who’d been in the bunker, Andronicus apparently, is not showing any sign of wanting to check if Stig somehow survived his swim. The shorter of the two heroes kneeling against the front of the bunker Saurian is now trapped in, his masked face pressed up close to the crystal viewport. For a moment, I think he’s crying. Then I get a better look at how his shoulders are shaking and realise it’s laughter that’s forcing him to lean against the box for support. Well, that and his still busted ankles that are dribbling a mix of blood and liquified meat onto the floor around him.

  I look away. Whatever is going on over at the drainage room’s other side is unlikely to help me right now. Even if Ictus for some reason decides to head over to that side before checking on the Verti-bird that he’s here to retrieve, there’s still only one way out.

  With that pleasant thought serving to refocus me, I pull my eyes away from where they’d been caught watching the many, many arms Ictus has grown finish crumbling away. The full extent of whatever damage the fight has done to the drainage room hard to guess at while every surface is covered in a watery mixture of rust and grime.

  Ignoring the way it makes the walls writhe, I glance over at the screen showing Ictus still standing temptingly close to the walkways edge. He doesn’t look like he’ll be heading over to the entrance any time soon unfortunately. Still talking into his earpiece while Andronicus has at last stopped laughing and started nodding, or maybe ducking his head, instead. Whatever I’m going to do, fight or run, I don’t have long.

  I stand frozen a moment longer with my hands over the sturdy and ancient looking keyboard on the console before me. The one Stig had warned me not to touch if I didn’t want to break the camera feeds that he’d seemed so surprised had worked in the first place. Losing my view of Ictus and the early, only, warning I’ll get for when he’s coming is tough but it’s not like a warning will actually help me. After all, no matter how much I go over it, there’s only one plan I can think of that has any chance of working. Not exactly a good chance but some.

  ‘Better than trying my luck with the sewers or against two heroes at least.’

  My hands fly across the keyboard as I do my best to remember the lessons on hot keys and shortcuts that I’d never paid much attention to in class. Cursing myself for dismissing them as useless when most of the city’s older infrastructure, which is most of it, is still yet to move away from the cheapest option. Cursing harder when my tapping starts causing the monitors in front of me to go black or fill with static and broken images. The camera feeds doing exactly as Stig had warned and rapidly narrowing my focus to just one in the top left which I’ve miraculously managed to get to a debug menu. Not quite what I was after but, perhaps, even better.

  I don’t know much about computers, or anything about the NewNet really, but there’s one command that I know should work on any of Throne’s many monitoring stations. I know it from watching movies but still, not like I’ve got better options. I type in each of the three letters with a final burst of speed before hesitating at the final step. My finger hovering above the ‘Enter’ key as I consider if there might be a better plan I’m just not thinking of.

  ‘Almost certainly.’

  I press the button. Holding my breath as the prompt first seems to do nothing and then sets off a chain of more lines that I don’t understand but which are hopefully doing what I want. The small screen flashing white as a harsh note of static, that might be an old-fashioned dial tone or just the console finally dying for good, is spat out from the speakers. My hopes rising even as I cringe at the noise and can’t help but glance over my shoulder to where Ictus is standing just out of sight. Looking back as I hear what I think is a man’s distorted voice before the flashing monitor goes entirely black and I’m left staring wide-eyed at nothing but a wall of cracked screens.

  ‘We’re so fucked.’

  “Hold on, I just heard somethi- Who are you? And where’s the ‘bird?!”

  I hadn’t gotten a good look at the hero before. His full appearance blocked by Schiz’s bundled-up self. Or else only glanced at from the back or side through the lens of a camera while I tried not to panic. I’d still seen enough of his costume and helmet to know how the two don’t match but, before now, I’d only gotten a glance of his chest. Something my stomach feels grateful for as, with just a glance at the image reflected in the widest of the monitors in front of me, it becomes obvious that he’s gone through some major surgery recently.

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  A roughly stitched, and in some places cauterised, series of scars runs across his exposed skin where the white bodysuit has been cut away and left to flap freely to either side. Much of the flesh still looking tender and badly bruised or else having lumpy protrusions poking up from underneath. A tube pokes out from the skin over his heart and drips a thin line of vibrantly red blood past a now detached connector port.

  ‘Ah, so that’s why Saurian didn’t hear him through the wall. No heartbeat. Probably connected it to something that can directly oxygenate blood as well. As silent as he could be.’

  I can’t imagine what else he must have done to himself to make sure he could hide in the short corridor between the monitoring station’s inner and outer doors for the past three days. The rebreather still dangling from his neck, and the tube I can now see connecting to it from his windpipe, likely the least of the short notice augmentation’s he must’ve gone through.

  From the moment the crew arrived here to when the Concordat realised that they’d have to pull back due to the flooding can’t have been long. That Ictus then spent nearly three days underwater in near total darkness, being constantly buffeted by floodwaters and without any food or water is only further proof of how much he must have wanted this.

  ‘I know Saurian said this guy hates her but this feels like more than just a grudge.’

  I pull my eyes up from the reflected mess of his chest as I go to turn around to face the hero now walking into the room. His quick steps pushing aside the loose stones and dust created by the mix of explosions and fighting that has damaged the place. However, I don’t even get one foot all the way off the ground before a stone hand is wrapping around each ankle and locking me in place. One of them pulling my half-raised foot back to the floor and throwing me off balance as I watch two more sprout rapidly from the console in front of me. My arms saved from being grabbed as well only because I throw them out to help me avoid falling over.

  “I’m a hero! An Indy hero! I was kidnapped! Please don’t-” I don’t get any more of my half-baked plan out before the hands on my ankles grow into full arms that can reach up to my knees. The limbs shifting position to pull me down to the floor as I throw myself forward to avoid falling over entirely. An ‘eep!’ shocked out of me as the two arms on the console reach out to grab my jacket and pull me against the panels. One of them trapping an arm while the other seizes onto my face, covering my mouth and cutting me off from any further attempts at talking my way out of this.

  I freeze like a hare in the headlights the moment the dry chill of the still growing metal arm touches my face. The image of Saurian’s legs being crushed into red pulp flitting across my mind and stopping me from instinctively trying to tear myself away with my free arm. Given this is a hero, and I don’t have the ability to shrug off the sorts of wounds that Saurian can, I’m probably safe from having him use the full strength of his Power. But that doesn’t help me calm down when I know he’d barely need more than a flex to shatter my jaw like porcelain.

  The way the whole console creaks and warps under the weight of the arms also doesn’t fill me with much confidence over getting away with my face intact. Although, at least the sound seems to prompt Ictus to stop growing the limbs any further for fear of their source collapsing under the new weight.

  “A hero? Doubt it.” The dismissive tone of his raspy voice makes the urge to risk getting my jaw shattered anyway seem almost worth it. The sound of the man stomping his way further into the room having me grit my teeth to try and hide the flash of rage that follows. Feeling suddenly very aware of how my one free hand could likely draw and fire a revolver before the fingers growing to grab it can catch me. Just like before though, I resist the temptation. Breathing out slowly through my nose as I let my only slightly trembling hand be caught and held against the buckling console instead. Besides the escalation that shooting a gun would cause, fighting my way out of here directly was never really an option.

  “Smart girl. Now, you’re not one of Saurian’s crew. Mercenary? She hire you to help them get out? Or to transport the ‘bird? And just how the hell did you get in here anyway?”

  “I’m a teleporter!” The hand covering my mouth shifts to a loose grip on my lower jaw as he finishes speaking. A shiver running down my back at the dexterity with which he glides the fingers across my jaw bone. I try to pass the reaction off as a gulp that I fear only makes me look more nervous when I feel the hand re-tightening just enough to be uncomfortable.

  “…Alright, but how- yes actually, that does answer my questions. Explains why it smells so nice in here too. Lemon? Good choice. Saurian’s lot must have had a much nicer time than me the last few days. All thanks to you, huh?” There’s a note of something both sardonic and dangerous in his voice. Goosebumps breaking out across my skin as I listen to his heavy and uneven steps continue to draw closer behind me.

  “Are you willing to bring the ‘bird back? You’re young so there’s still time to turn things around. Make something of yourself beyond… this. If you cooperate now, I can keep you out of Fairhurst.”

  “I’m not a villain. I was just talking to someone at the MEA but this console is br-”

  “Puella. I’m too beat up, too tired, to play along with this. You…” He pauses just after the hand holding my jaw grows firmer again to cut me off. His voice trailing away as I hear him stopping just a few steps behind me. For a moment, I hope that he’s fallen into the hidden sewer hole. Then, as the silence stretches, I start worrying that I might now be stuck here with no choice but to break my jaw to get out of the metal arm’s grip.

  “I see. Those bunker-cells have locked down worse things than her so just stay out of range and you’ll be fine. She hasn’t got enough biomass in there to heal fully anyway. Any sign of Stig?” I can’t help but breathe out in an explosive mix of relief and disappointment at the sound of Ictus’ voice. The man continuing after a pause where I assume Andronicus is answering his question.

  “A shame. I’m sure you did all you could so don’t beat yourself up, okay? I’ll see if we can’t get a sweep done of where he was most likely to end up. Meta’s have survived worse and he’s got that helmet plus some theorised aug’s to help so we’ll just have to hope. Keep an eye on our most lively captive for now and be ready to receive the response team. I’ve got a fourth here and no, I don’t ‘need a hand’. Ha-ha.”

  He sighs long and deep after the fake laugh. The tired sound quickly becoming a coughing fit that sounds more like a blocked vacuum as he steps around to my left. Stone hands coming from the wall to help him as he lowers Schiz to the floor where more arms rise to wrap tightly around her. The copies of her own arms collapsing into a red slurry that soon leaves no sign of their presence besides the holes in her suit.

  Ictus himself leans his shoulder up against the wall just next to the monitor bank and at the edge of my restricted vision. A few of his costume-arms rubbing delicately at his scarred chest and eliciting a wincing hiss as one of his own hands reaches up to fiddle with the tube coming out of his heart. Ictus paying no mind to the trickle of thin blood still dribbling from it as he turns to address me without any of the humour from earlier.

  “Stig is gone. Swept away after an unlucky fall. My Ward did all he could but there is a risk to fighting in places like this. Still, I am sorry. We’ll do what we can to try and find him but the sooner we get our Verti-bird back, the sooner we can focus on doing so. Are you able to tell me where you sent it?”

  The hand on my jaw goes loose again in a clear indicator that I’m allowed to speak and I don’t waste any time in doing so. The small pause he’d taken for his conversation with Andronicus giving me a chance to start fleshing out this spur of the moment plan. My exhaustion held at bay by a desperate energy that I can already feel starting to become frantic. My adrenaline peaking as my chances of leaving here without cuffs on, and probably a hood too, are rapidly shrinking right before my eyes.

  ‘Come on! I just need to get my hands and legs free and I’ll have a real chance at this!’

  “I can do better. I can bring it back. My Power works on a timer though so it needs to be soon. Just-”

  “Just let you out?” He sighs again. His voice still half mocking but mostly just tired now as he looks down at me with a wry grin. The twitch of his lips turning into something sadder as he glances away from me and down to the floor beneath him. My own attention following the movement to where more arms are sprouting upwards to begin forming a makeshift chair. Another long and vacuum-like sigh slipping out of Ictus as the arms slowly rise from the concrete while he slides down the wall and into the seat moulding itself around him.

  “I really wish I could believe you kid, getting a few more heroes out of this Spiral would be good news for everyone, but there’s just too many things not adding up. If you really were using this console to call a MEA operator, which Schiz wouldn’t have just let you do no matter how mad she is, then someone should’ve answered right away. You really think we wouldn’t have someone watching this station for any chance to slip an observer through? I might not have gotten the techy I wanted watching this place but the local tower did at least lend an IT squad.”

  No sooner has he finished speaking than the screens in front of me light up with a harsh white glow. The hero jerking up from his seat, and almost falling over again, while the hand holding me tightens further to stop me from looking up. A blast of painful static coming from the speakers making me wince from the noise before it starts to coalesce into something immediately recognisable as a female voice.

  “Unknown hero, can you confirm that the villains are down? We lost signal briefly there. A fast response team is enroute. Are you still there? Ca you confirm the status of the Meta’s on sight? Unknown hero, please respond.”

  The feminine voice continues to repeat itself along those lines while distorted by what could easily be mistaken for the sort of interference and static warbling you’d expect to hear through a barely working and ancient system like this. An undercurrent that keeps the voice constantly shifting and which would make anyone but me uncertain about its age if not gender. Yet, from the moment the first few words come out from the speakers. I know at once who’s on the call’s other side. No matter how impossible that is.

  thanks for reading!