Mod Superhero

Chapter 4.23 - What Do You See / Angel Eye

Windows shattered in front of him. The sharpshooter grabbed his supply bag and backed away from the windows, moving with a mix of rehearsed calmness and intrinsic sense.

Angel couldn't see the shots, not exactly. He wasn't superhuman in the same way the cyborg was. His power, however, let him read angles at a glance and intuit his opponents' locations.

Both the cyborg and the artificer were firing energy weapons—both similar designs. The artificer was flying quickly toward them, dipping below the buildings and using them for cover as she approached. Meanwhile, the cyborg was running down the street—

Angel's eyes widened. The angels of the cyborg's shots were changing drastically, meaning he was running startlingly fast. Not only that, but he was also firing while running and each shot was coming through the windows. Not only was the cyborg clearly a Class 3 super, but he might also be as good with a rifle as Angel was.

Until then, Angel had thought he was a match for most supers. Guns had marked a new era of humanity, and Angel's powers made him superior—at least compared to people that didn't move faster than he could pull the trigger.

Angel wiped a sweaty palm on his jacket. For the first time since he could remember, Angel Eye felt outgunned and outmatched.

"Oakenheart, move. Now. Lau, I need a funnel and a killbox."

"For who exactly?"

"The cyborg. Use location B."

"Which one was that?"

Angel ignored him. "Oakenheart, prepare for the artificer's power armor. It's tough, has ranged weapons, and can fly. Not sure about other countermeasures."

"Worry about yourself," Oakenheart replied.

Angel had turned to move down the stairs when more gunfire erupted outside. He immediately recognized the sound of machinegun fire from the drones. The steady cadence of energy weapons was completely overshadowed by the whizzes of passing bullets and smattering of impacts. There was no way the cheap office furniture of tissue-paper cubicles would stop those, so Angel dove behind a load-bearing wall.

He peered out from cover with his rifle and aimed at the first drone. With the custom eyepiece from his benefactor, Angel saw the machine clearly. There were two distinct types circling the sky: The predominant type were chest freezer-sized ones—those were what were currently laying waste to the floor. Thankfully, the few building-sized drones seemed content to float ominously. Angel ignored them, for now.

He didn't need to take out each of the smaller drones. He just needed enough space to run for the stairwell.

Artificers were always tricky—custom armor and technology meant different weak spots, which meant trial and error... But no matter what tech they used, the drones would have an exposed camera or sensor.

Without those, the drone and whoever was piloting it would be flying blind.

Angel fired two shots at potential weak spots, and a breath later, the sensors shattered. Direct hits. The drone wobbled and stopped firing, then flew up and out of sight.

He breathed a sigh of relief and sprinted to the stairs.

Lau's voice came through the comms. "I think you pissed them off." Angel ignored him and ran down to the first floor, his boots echoing in the stairwell.

The original plan had been to use the stairwell as a funnel, but he doubted the cyborg or the flying artificer would use the stairs. The second option was the first floor. Lau would use his magic to make mirrors or whatever else to funnel their opponents into a killbox. Between Lau's magic and Angel's Lucky 7's, no unassuming super should stand a chance.

But the cyborg was clearly Class 3. The artificer probably was too. And now Angel and Lau only had seconds to set up their trap.

Angel peered through a stairway window as he ran and caught a glimpse of drones. They weren't hovering still anymore. Now they were moving erratically, like a swarm of bees. Whoever was in charge of the pilots must care more about the drones than about keeping a solid vantage on the windows.

There was no way a pilot could be accurate when moving that much. The drones were just a distraction.

Lau paused at the last landing and dropped his supply bag. He snapped apart the rifle's barrel and housing, and quickly shoved both halves of his precious weapon in the bag. Then he pulled out his double barrel sawed-off shotgun and tucked it in the lever holster in his coat.

Footsteps on the stairs above. Oakenheart and their target. Oakenheart was covered head to toe in some kind of ancient ironwood armor. She stomped down the stairs, the spikes of her shoulder pauldrons taking chunks out of the walls. The hostage had a bag over their head, and the paladin half-guided, half-dragged them by the collar.

A loud crash upstairs punctuated the gunfire. Angel said, "That's our artificer."

Angel drew his twin seven-shot revolvers and double-checked the chambers. Then he turned and led the way out the stairwell door.

Minutes before, the first floor of the office building had looked like any other—ornate, overpriced furniture, vaulted ceiling, decorative glass.

Now, the first floor of the office was a hall of mirrors.

Lau Keishos was just inside the glass, finishing the transmutation spell. The sorcerer wore a comically stereotypical wizard robe. Angel wouldn't be surprised if Lau had gotten it from online.

What the sorcerer lacked in style, he made up for with arcane knowledge. Blue energy swirled around his hands. Shimmers reflected in the glass as the panes split and then split again, increasing the reflections exponentially. For the final part of the spell, Lau reached out and made a grabbing gesture, then pulled inward, bringing the walls of mirrors close together.

Lau fixed his sleeves, then turned. Magic obscured the top half of his face in shadow, and his mouth was twisted into a smug grin.

Lau said, "I don't care how good he is. It's called a killbox for a reason."

"Just get upstairs and keep the artificer engaged."

Oakenheart called from the stairwell. "You look nervous, gunslinger. Sure you don't want some help?"

Angel sighed. This was the last time he worked with goddamn amateurs.

"Just go. We'll buy you as much time as we can. If they get past us, bring the tunnel down."

Oakenheart disappeared, dragging the hostage with her. A second later, the floor rumbled. The damn paladin hadn't bothered waiting.

Lau's voice came through the comms. "Did she just—"

"Yes."

Angel Eye clenched his teeth and focused on the hallway. The twin pistols felt heavy in his hands.

~ ~ ~