chapter 6.8
"So, what do you think of the view? Honestly, I don't come up here often, but every time I do, it's worth it. Helps clear the extra noise out of your head." I smiled, looking out at the city spread below my feet.
A cool wind swept in and carried the clutter of thoughts away with it. Standing at the very edge of the high-rise, Annie and I watched New York bathed in the warm light of a fading sunset. After everything that had happened recently, I'd decided some kind of rest was in order.
And since I didn't imagine Annie would be particularly thrilled by a restaurant or a movie, I'd gone for something a little more creative. There was no official access to the top of this abandoned building, but weren't we superheroes? Running across rooftops was practically in our blood.
"Yeah…" She spoke slowly, sitting on the edge of the building with her gaze fixed on the horizon. "Back when I was still working with the team, after shoots we used to love finding spots like this and just talking—about everything and nothing—until night fell. It wasn't all good back then, but sometimes I miss those days." She paused. "You know, I genuinely wanted to be a hero. How stupid does that sound now."
I just let out a quiet hm. I looked at the sunset once more, then stood up abruptly, walked to the edge with a smile, and glanced back at the puzzled expression on her face.
"This is getting a little too melancholy. Not exactly the kind of atmosphere you shake off in. But I didn't pick this building for nothing—this whole block is getting demolished soon, so there's almost nobody around. Which means nobody's going to stop us from doing something like, say, this."
I didn't say another word. I just spread my arms, closed my eyes, and fell backward.
The shocked girl lunged toward me to grab me—but I was already dropping.
"You absolute idiot," she said, staring down at me with theatrical irritation. I had landed on the adjacent building, a full five meters lower. For an ordinary person that might have posed a problem, but I'd had enough time to flip in the air and come down on the rooftop in the classic superhero landing stance.
"Do you know how long I practiced that? They taught me about a dozen different ways to look good jumping and landing on set. Something about getting the best shot." I called up to her. "Think you're brave enough to try?"
Annie studied me for a moment, then decided. She backed up a few steps from the edge, took her run, and launched off—pulling two full rotations in the air before landing with more elegance than I had managed by a considerable margin.
"I can do pirouettes like that all day with my eyes closed. I've been training them since first grade." She grinned. "Now you try to keep up with this!"
She shouted it with delight, picked up speed again, threw in a cartwheel, then leaped to the next building with a sequence of spins in the air—and landed perfectly on the ledge without a single stumble or error, looking back at me over her shoulder with a smile.
"Alright, looks like I'm going to have to take this seriously," I said, genuinely impressed.
I backed up several meters, took a running start, and launched myself off with everything I had, rocketing upward at full speed. Annie gave me no head start—she simply began bounding from rooftop to rooftop with theatrical flair, and I pushed every bit of effort I had into not falling behind.
Then she made one particularly wide leap that carried her from one roof to the next, and hit the ground running. When I landed on that same spot a moment later, I heard the crack of breaking stone—and gravity reached up and started pulling me down.
"No!" Annie's face went white and she sprinted toward me—then stopped, staring at me with wide, baffled eyes.
"This bit gets funnier every time," I said, hanging in the air and drifting slowly upward back toward the rooftop. Barely visible threads of red liquid ran along my body—they were what was keeping me aloft, pulling me upward through the air. Slowly. Very slowly.
Annie watched me with a look of quiet wonder as she waited for me to rise back up to her level. The technique was still rough, so I kept my pace to a crawl to avoid losing concentration and flipping upside down mid-air. It took a full ten seconds to finally pull myself up to a sturdier section of the roof.
"I always wanted to learn how to fly," she said thoughtfully, studying the crimson threads running along me. "But my powers just aren't that impressive. All I can do is shoot at targets and act as a flashlight."
A bright golden-white light flared briefly from her hands, then faded.
"You know, I've spent a lot of time working on my ability—trying to develop every aspect of it—so I think I know a thing or two about how powers work. Maybe I can help." I said. "If I remember right, you can absorb electricity to amplify yourself? I think that was how you won that children's hero competition."
She nodded while I thought it over.
"Obviously I've considered using a really large power source, but from a legal standpoint, it's not straightforward. My abilities can interfere with a lot of equipment, and if I absorb for too long, the machinery can just break down and burn out. Director Brink was supposed to be arranging the purchase of a private power station for testing and training, but it never came together…"
I didn't want to ruin the mood, so I just smirked.
"Forget him. I can arrange all of that and better. The head of the state's entire electrical grid is one of my arthritis patients—I can make a call with no trouble. There are too few genuinely good heroines as it is, and I'm not interested in watching someone with your potential go to waste." I smiled. "Besides, there's a real shortage of heroines who can fly. That statistical error needs correcting."
I smiled, and after that we spent a while longer in silence, just watching the city settle into evening. Our hearing was well beyond human—every sound the city made reached us clearly. But somehow, in that moment, all of it blended together into something that wasn't irritating at all. Almost calming.
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***
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"So, are you going to tell me what the problem is? Or should we go to round two? I'll say upfront—the exhaustion, the weakness, and the pain you're feeling all over your body aren't random. You turned out to be such a feisty bird that I had to clip your wings for a little while." I said, smirking at the scowling Soldier Boy, who was glaring at me with pure contempt.
My hands were still hurting badly, but the purest strain of Compound V I'd managed to extract from his blood was worth any fight. Even a preliminary examination of the stuff had already opened up possibilities that made my head spin.
"You fight like a bitch," the old hero said flatly, like he was spitting on the ground. "Even that goddamn Stormfront didn't use this many dirty tricks. And trust me, kid—the Russians couldn't break me. The Viet Cong couldn't break me. Not even the fucking Nazis. The minute I get my strength back, I'm going to tear you a new—"
"Nobody's planning to torture you, for what it's worth," I cut in. "We're not supervillains trying to take over the world. We're ordinary people trying to understand why the third most powerful super on earth lost his mind and decided to murder his former teammate. If no one could stop you last time, now you're going to lie in that bed until you give us some answers."
"Be interesting to see you try to keep me here…"
Expected. My tone had gotten under his skin, and he clearly wanted to rearrange my face. But I didn't say a word—I just gave a deliberate wave of my hand. Soldier Boy went rigid and found himself unable to move so much as a finger.
When I'd used my ability on him, I hadn't stripped him entirely—I'd only taken a small amount for my experiments. Right now he was sitting at roughly the level of an average super, and judging by his extraordinary regenerative capacity, he'd be back to full strength within a couple of weeks.
It was amusing to think that in theory, the man could serve as a living production lab for the purest Compound V imaginable.
"I have no desire to hurt you, and I won't. That's a promise. But if you're not willing to listen to doctors or psychologists, then we'll solve this your way. I've watched every film you've ever been in, which means I know how you deal with hard situations. I'll show you who's in charge here, and then I'll wait until you decide to start talking." I paused. "Blink twice if you understand."
Soldier Boy kept glaring, but after a long moment he gave in and blinked. The instant I loosened my hold, he drew a deep breath and looked around—but no more aggression came. Remarkably, he even seemed to settle into something calmer. Something that, if I wasn't imagining it, carried a faint note of respect.
"I'd have beaten the ever-living hell out of you if I were at full strength, but I guess that's the tax you pay for being this goddamn magnificent. Always knew all those years on set weren't wasted—at least somebody came out of it with a spine instead of a wet noodle." The hero let out a short laugh. "Fine. Let's talk. What do you want to know? How my own team stabbed me in the back mid-mission and handed me to the enemy? How they tortured me for years? Or how I spent about thirty years stuck in a goddamn freezer?"
Soldier Boy's eyes and skin lit up faintly, and I felt a distinct pulse of energy radiating from him—but it lasted only a couple of seconds before it cut out, leaving him breathing hard and coughing. He wasn't in any shape to replicate a nuclear bomb.
"Butcher already walked me through most of your story. What I want to know is something different." I said. "Here's the thing—your team might have betrayed you, but there's no way you were operating in Nicaragua without Vought oversight. So do you really think your team could have gone through with something like that without sign-off from the top of the corporation? If I were in your position, I'd be spending a lot more time thinking about why someone decided to get rid of you than going after the people who were just following orders. And if it helps at all—every one of your former teammates has either lost their mind, gone broke, or sunk about as low as a person can go. If you kill them, all you're doing is giving them one last bit of attention they don't deserve."
From the way Soldier Boy's expression shifted, it was clear this angle hadn't occurred to him.
"Conniving sons of bitches…"
"That's exactly right. Which is why I'd strongly advise against doing anything rash. If you seriously wronged someone powerful, or if there was a genuinely significant reason behind what happened, then any attempt at revenge will just hand them a justification to lock you up a second time."
Soldier Boy sat with it, the frown deepening—but he was looking at me with something considerably more open than before.
"So what is it you're suggesting, then?"
For a moment I simply looked at him, tapping my fingers against the bed rail at a barely perceptible rhythm. An ordinary person would never have caught it, and there was no point even mentioning cameras or listening devices. Even a superhuman would have needed to be sitting right beside me to notice it and make sense of it.
Soldier Boy had been through a dozen different wars. He recognized the most well-known code in the world immediately, but gave nothing away. To deflect any suspicion, I also spoke the official version out loud—the one I'd been advised by Grace to deliver to the hero.
I spent about five minutes preaching to Soldier Boy about the virtues of a peaceful, cooperative way of life, then said my goodbyes and headed for the exit.
There was one more thing left to do. The most important one.
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***
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I fastened the last clasp and felt the suit settle onto me like a second skin. Even the cape had stopped getting in the way—it felt like a part of me now. And given the number of flasks and vials of blood hidden throughout it, I could literally feel it as an extension of my own body.
"Well then. Ready, hero?" Patriot asked with a smile, looking me over from head to toe and giving a satisfied nod at what he saw.
I glanced around after that, taking in the rest of our team. Sage lit up with a smile and winked at me, while Black Noir silently raised a thumb.
I exhaled.
"More than I've ever been."
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