POWER: Broken Heart
"WHO. WAS. SHE."
"I... can't... remember!"
Detective Delvis Billiard (codenamed "Kardios")—currently under the thrall of the Pantheite Eros—gritted his teeth, his pink eyes flaring with light. "Impossible!" he raged, punching the glass separating him and his interrogatee. "My heart-seeking is infallible! He MUST relinquish the TRUTH to me!"
"Whoa! Take it easy, Eros!" Whynnie pleaded, grabbing Eros's arm. "If he doesn't remember, you can't force it out of him!"
"Heart-seeking is unaffected by loss of memory, you little—hold it right there, pal," Kardios interrupted, swiftly taking control of his body before Eros could finish. "Remember what I said? Watch how you talk to my wife."
Kardios's eyes shifted back to black-and-pink, and he let out an annoyed grunt. "Yes, yes, fine," he muttered, waving a hand dismissively at Whynnie. "But the memories—the truth—should still be accessible."
"Man, I'm tellin' you, I don't remember nothin'!" the XXNW guard cried from inside the cell. "I can't even remember what she looked like, okay? It's like—like it just got wiped out of my head!"
"Hrm." Eros rubbed his chin, disconcerted. "This is a very peculiar case."
"No kidding," Whynnie agreed, rubbing her own chin in a mimicking fashion.
Eros shot her a look and snapped, "Stop that!"
"You guys gotta have footage or somethin', right?" the guard called hopefully. "You can just see 'er on the cameras!"
"Unfortunately, our cameras went down before she set V-111 free," Kardios told the guard, retaking control again.
"All of them?" the guard asked in disbelief.
"All of them," Kardios confirmed. "Sitewide—with no central point of activation for the shutdown. So the witness—that's you—you were our last resort."
"You gotta be kiddin' me!" the guard exclaimed.
"Wish we were." Kardios put his hands in the pockets of his trench coat, giving the guard an unnerved glanced. "Whoever we're dealing with... whoever tricked you, and whoever set V-111 free... they're pretty much a ghost."
---
She stared blankly at the elevator doors as the elevator rose through the unfinished structure, a strange grin on her face. She didn't blink, or even breathe.
She simply stared.
The doors opened without the dinging of a bell—the elevator itself was also incomplete. She stepped out and headed down the hall, heading for the main office. She could see the lone inhabitant, the owner of the building, standing by the window, hands in his pockets as he looked down upon the grand, magical city.
She snapped out of her hollow state, assuming a casual expression.
-
"Mr. Fisi?"
Fisi's head snapped to the side, allowing him to see who had spoken out of one eye.
There was someone in his office.
Someone he hadn't heard.
Or smelled.
Or sensed in any possible way.
Immediately, Fisi's survival instincts kicked into overdrive. Despite her innocent appearance—slim, small, big babylike eyes—Fisi instantly knew better than to underestimate the newcomer. Even the Protectors set off his power-sensing alarms; someone who didn't was not to be trifled with.
Nevertheless, he grinned.
You must show no fear, you must show no weakness...
"Well, well, well," Fisi purred slowly, turning around fully to face the woman and walking toward his desk. "What have we here? Surely not another of Xirxine's little moles?"
"Guilty as charged," the woman responded with a shrug and a smile.
"Mm. Hmhmhm." Fisi rested a hand on his desk. "And surely not... just a mole," he added in a low voice. "Hmhm."
"Do you giggle when you're nervous?" the woman inquired, raising an eyebrow.
"When I am curious," Fisi responded brusquely. He tilted his head and asked, "What is it you want, Miss...?"
"Vadala," the woman answered. "Mallory Vadala. I'm here on business."
"I figured as much. However, the kind of business you seek eludes me."
"Oop! Silly me." Mallory let out a giggle of her own. "I wanna offer my services," she explained. "I've got a pretty secure spot as the Avatar's new spokesperson, so I'll be in on all the juicy stuff. All I ask in return is some, uh... financial support." She wagged a finger at Fisi and added, "I already gave you a little help by springing One-Eleven. Now she can get back to 'distracting' Xirxine again!"
"Ah..." Fisi lifted his chin, interested. "Well, we do so appreciate your efforts. And if money is all you require, then we shall gladly provide it for your continued assistance." He sat down behind his desk and pressed a button under it, causing a chair to rise out of the ground with the clicking and whirring of gears.
Mallory walked forward and sat down, crossing her legs.
"And now that we've got the minor details out of the way," Fisi went on, pressing his fingertips together and leaning toward his addressee, "tell me, Miss Vadala... what exactly are you?"
Following the query, Mallory simply stared at Fisi for a long moment, her expression unchanging.
And then reality appeared to... glitch.
Mallory's face spasmodically shifted from her normal one to a far more monstrous visage, possessing a grin that branched upward into a second one, with the ends reaching her temples while the first grin wrapped from the back of one jaw to the other. Her eyes sank into their sockets, becoming glittering white dots in empty blackness.
"NOSY NUMBER FIVE," Mallory chastised Fisi in a teasing voice made up of many voices. "YOU'RE GETTING AHEAD OF YOURSELF."
She was gone.
-
Fisi blinked, staring at the empty chair in front of him.
The elevator at the end of the hall closed, and it let out a ding despite the fact that it lacked the ability to do so.
Fisi's grin slowly returned. "How... fascinating," he breathed with a giggle.
POWER: Lovers
2024
"Ready to go home?"
Eve exhaled through her nose and settled into her seat on the private jet. "As I'll ever be," she muttered. "Let's get moving."
"Aw, why the long face? You gonna miss traveling the world?"
"No, that's not—" Eve paused and sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I just left my kid at an orphanage," she grumbled. "I'm not—I'm not in the best mood."
"Mm, yeah. That's gotta suck. I know what it's like to lose a kid."
Eve gave her companion a sidelong look.
Mallory returned it with an unnerving grin.
Eve sighed and turned away. "Look, if you're trying to give me clues about your real identity, you can save it for now," she said in annoyance. "I can do research on my own time—and frankly, I don't care at the moment."
"I know you don't. I just wanted to make you feel better." Mallory flipped upside-down in midair, sitting on nothing and kicking her legs like a child. "I know how much you love your little secrets."
"Mhm." Eve pulled out her holopad and began tapping on it absentmindedly. "Did you get in touch with Fred?"
"Yuh-huh!" Mallory's face flickered from normal to distorted and back again. "I'm officially your newest teammate!"
"Swell." Eve rolled her eyes. "And where does this 'team-up' fit into your plan, huh? Whatever that plan is?"
"Ssh." Mallory held a finger to her lips as her visage changed again. "No spoilers," she giggled in a whisper.
"Yeah, yeah."
Mallory vanished and reappeared in the seat behind Eve, peering over her shoulder. "So what's on the menu tonight?" she asked curiously. "More juicy Safe Haven secrets? Or maybe another dastardly alliance?"
"More of the second thing," Eve responded. "I'm doing a little refresher course on the Saved and their lore before we officially start working together."
"You're working together unofficially?"
"Pretty much. We instigated a holy war between them and the Faithful."
"I know about the war. Figured that was you." Mallory double-grinned again. "Another of your little 'distractions', eh?"
"We're using as many as we can."
"Hm." Mallory rested her face in her hands and took up a horizontal position in the air, kicking her feet again. "Y'know, I was a part of the Malakhites for a while," she told Eve. "I might have some info connected to the Saved."
"I know you were. But I have a feeling you aren't allowed to share the information—like you've said with other information before," Eve stated, her eyes still on the holopad. "I'm starting to get the feeling you're playing a game... and that game has rules."
"OOH! Score one for 'Leaping Doe'!" Mallory clapped excitedly. "You're just a sneaky little smarty-pants, ain'tchya?"
"That's—"
Eve stopped tapping her holopad as a picture of her daughter popped up. She closed her eyes, sighing through her nose again. "That's what they say," she finished quietly.
Mallory's grins faded.
Then, surprisingly, she sobered and slid into the seat next to Eve, letting out a sigh of her own. "Look, I—I'm sorry," she said softly. "I can be a little crazy at times."
"A little uncouth," Eve added with a tired smirk.
"A little weird," Mallory agreed, smiling slightly.
"A little bipolar," Eve went on, rolling her eyes.
"Aaaaaaaand a little awkward," Mallory finished, making a "so-so" gesture with her hand and laughing a little. "But Eve, I..." She trailed off, glancing at the picture of Eve's daughter as her smile fell away again.
Eve waited a beat, her own smirk disappearing as she watched Mallory carefully.
Then Mallory said in a murmur, "I know what it's like to lose a child. You don't feel like smiling, or laughing, or making jokes, and when other people do, it feels... unfair. Hurtful. Like they should share your grief even though there's no possible way they could feel the pain that you do."
Eve stared at Mallory, somewhat surprised by the tender, genuine tone of her voice. "Yeah," she replied, her own words hushed. "Yeah, that's right."
Mallory nodded. "But even though you feel broken," she continued gently, "even though you feel like you have to get them back, someway, somehow... the only thing you have to do... is move on. You have to remember your purpose... your goal... and keep moving forward." She suddenly took Eve's hand and gave it a tight squeeze, looking her dead in the eye. "No matter what," she finished in a solemn tone.
Eve stared back at Mallory, filled with conflicting emotions of gratitude and confusion. "That was some pep talk," she remarked, blinking. "You're really good at that."
"So I've been told." Mallory gave Eve's hand one more squeeze and let go, leaning back in her seat. "Now put on your game face, Evie girl," she advised, closing her eyes. "Show off that winning... smirk of yours." She raised a finger, adding, "And don't think about her—for now. I know she means the world to you, but until your game's over, she has to be an afterthought. Got it?"
Eve nodded, letting out a long breath. "Yeah. I got it." Then, with an ironic smirk, she turned and added, "Y'know, you kind of remind me of my great—"
She stopped.
The seat next to her was empty.
Eve stared at the seat for a moment.
Then she faced forward again, the smirk turning into a wistful smile. "—grandmother," she finished softly.
The aircraft hummed through the air in silence.
-
Mallory stood atop the private jet with her hands in her pockets, letting the wind whip through her hair as she stared straight ahead with a weary expression on her face.
Yellow light pulsated gently beneath her flesh, followed soon after by the other colours of the rainbow.
"NO," she rasped.
The colours all turned black.
Mallory's two mouths returned, though in a mere double-smile rather than twin grins. "MY FIFTH," she croaked, "PRESS ON."
---
"You're sure she's safe?"
"As sure as I can be. I checked out the orphanage—they seem legitimate. I'll send you the info if you wish to double-check."
"N—No, it's fine. Thanks, Fitch."
Defender swooped down from the sky and landed across the street from Jack n' Jill's Xirxine Cuisine, perching atop a building. "Are you almost back?" he asked, watching the Protectors spawn in front of the restaurant with bursts of flame.
"Back? Hatchet, I'm behind you."
Defender looked over his shoulder sharply.
The gigantic silhouette of his older brother was soaring past the moon, heading for the same building upon which Defender rested.
"Oh. Uh... welcome back?" Defender said sheepishly, grinning.
Guardian did not grin as he landed solidly next to his brother, narrowing his eyes at the Protectors across the street. "You're too stressed," he growled, closing the channel between himself and Defender. "It's blocking your senses. Relax."
"I am relaxed," Defender lied in an ironically-defensive tone.
"Right." Guardian glanced at Defender. "So remind me what this 'meeting' is for again? I thought they already 'met' four years ago."
"I'm not sure, actually," Defender admitted. "Cam-a-lama-ding-dong said Fisi told 'em it was urgent."
Guardian stared at him for a long moment.
"Too much?" Defender guessed.
"Egregiously so." Guardian turned back to face the restaurant. "This had better not be a trap," he muttered under his breath.
"I assure you, it is not."
Guardian and Defender both whirled around, caught off-guard by a new voice.
A Masked Man had spontaneously appeared on the rooftop behind them, and was walking toward them with his hands in his pockets. "Our hosts are aware that you and the other two are watching," he said in a hollow voice, gesturing to another building in the distance—the one that Malcom and Marx were currently perched on. "They request your presence."
Guardian raised an eyebrow. "Hosts?" he repeated, taking a wary step in the Masked Man's direction. "I thought it was just Fisi."
The Masked Man continued to walk toward the dragons until he ended up walking past them, simply stepping over the edge and star-walking in the air toward Jack n' Jill's. "Miss Leaping Doe is looking forward to your long-awaited... reunion," he stated without turning around.
Instantly, Guardian and Defender's expressions turned dark, and they shared a look.
Then Guardian spoke into his communicator: "Brothers. With me. Now." He shifted into his human form and flew down to the street with Defender close behind.
-
Cameron was ready this time.
Any feelings of uncertainty or hidden rage toward the host of tonight's dinner were swallowed up by a genuinely-casual demeanour. She hoped her Worthy could mirror it, but if they couldn't, that was fine; she would carry enough of a peaceful air for all of them.
"Welcome, welcome, everyone!" the restaurant host—not the meeting host, but the werewolf Dylan—greeted the Protector Force Core. "Good to see ya!" He snatched up four menus and jerked his head toward the back of the restaurant, moving out from behind the stand. "C'mon, I'll take you to your seats."
"You'll need a few more menus than that, Dylan."
Dylan looked over his shoulder as the PFC members all did the same.
To their surprise, the four Drake brothers had entered the restaurant, all clad in suits and fedoras. "Make that five more, specifically," Fitch—the one who'd spoken—added.
"Uh... hey, guys," Zill said to the dragons, confused. "What are you all doing here?"
"And why do you need five menus when there are only four of you?" Cameron put in, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, for starters, we were invited," Marx replied with a rueful smirk. "Secondly—"
Salvia suddenly emerged from behind Hatchet, having risen out of his shadow.
"—that," Marx finished.
Cameron's eyebrow rose higher. "Uh... huh." She fixed her scrutinizing, birdlike gaze on Hatchet, who had an oddly-dark look on his face. "Hatch? Everything okay?" she asked, tilting her head.
"No," Hatchet answered in a flat tone.
Salvia glanced at him, then subtly took his hand in hers.
The PFC all looked at each other uneasily. "I've got a bad feeling about this," Zill remarked, frowning.
"So do I." Cameron narrowed her eyes and led the others after Dylan. "Stay on your toes, everyone. This might get hairy."
"Finally! I've been itchin' to get a crack at Fisi, mano-y-mano," Zill said with a grin.
"I doubt we'll get that chance, but just in case..." Cameron unfolded her wings slightly, the feathers ruffling as she stepped out into the outside portion of the restaurant.
Once again, they found Fisi sitting at a table surrounded by Masked Men, the irritating, oh-so-confident grin on his face. "Ah! Welcome, all!" Fisi called, clapping as the A-Team and D-Team approached. "So glad you decided to show up early this time!"
"Don't bother with the pleasantries, Fisi," Cameron told him calmly. "Just tell us why—"
"Where is she?"
Cameron grunted as Hatchet suddenly shouldered his way past her and to the front of the group with his brothers and Salvia at his side. "What the—Hatchet!" Cameron exclaimed, startled. "What are you doing?!"
"I do not appreciate your tone, rafiki joka," Fisi remarked, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes with the grin still on his face. "I'd prefer something a bit more... erudite. Heeheehee!"
"Where. Is. She," Hatchet hissed, narrowing his own eyes as red fire flared in them.
"Golly! Didjya miss me that bad, hun?"
The Protectors all turned around.
Standing in the doorway of the door that led back into the restaurant was, of course, Eve Black Horn. She wore a shot gray dress, a black scarf, dark gray leggings, and a annoying smirk that immediately made the PFC dislike her even though they didn't know who she was.
"...Uh... who is—" Zill began to ask, pointing at the woman uncertainly.
"Eve," Hatchet snarled, glaring at the jackalope.
"Hatch," Eve replied unflinchingly. "It's good to see you again." She looked at the other dragons and Salvia, adding, "All of you. Even you, Sal."
Salvia said nothing.
"Hm." Eve sashayed past the group, making her way to Fisi's side and sitting down. "Anyone order appetizers yet?" she asked the hyena.
"No, we all just arrived," he responded casually.
"Um, I'm sorry," Kayla broke in, raising a paw and stepping forward, "but who exactly are you?" She motioned to Eve in confusion.
"Oh! Do forgive me," Fisi apologized with a wave of his hand. "I've forgotten the whole point of this meeting." He put a hand on Eve's shoulder and told the Protectors, "I called you all here for the purpose of introducing you to my... business partner, hmhm. She is the one who introduced myself and my fellow Dark Celestials to the Safe Havens—the one who gave us all the information we needed to set up our enterprise. Ladies and gentlemen... this is my dear friend Eve."
Eve wiggled her fingers in an innocent wave, smiling and batting her eyelashes.
Fisi tilted his head and added, "I believe the dragons and their mentor are quite familiar with her."
"More than familiar," Salvia said quietly.
"Yeah, we noticed," Cameron remarked, narrowing her eyes. "Mind telling us what this is all about, Sal?"
Salvia hesitated, her unseen gaze still locked with Eve's mocking one.
Then she told everyone, "Sit down. I—we... will start from the beginning."
-
"She came to us after the Holy War," Salvia explained to her allies, addressing them while Fisi, Eve, and the Masked looked on. "A little bit before the Rising. She knew we existed, and knew enough magic to send a long-distance echo. So we brought her in to... keep tabs on her."
"I got caught traipsing through some private territory," Eve put in, interrupting Salvia's next statement. "So they took me to court and told me to watch my step." She daintily put a hand on her lips and giggled. "I was just the cutest little troublemaker!"
"Uh-huh," Cameron said flatly before turning back to Salvia. "Go on, Sal."
"Thank you." Salvia shot Eve a look before continuing, "She and Hatchet had developed a... connection when he'd gone to scout her out, so when he got back from the Roc's Rising, they started spending time together. After she met his brothers, Fitch suggested I recruit her as an apprentice. So I did."
"I know all her tricks," Eve added with a mischievous wink.
"Wait—you guys worked together?" Zill asked, glancing from Eve to the dragons. "For how long?"
"Until the Convergence," Fitch muttered, folding his arms across his chest. "She was our ally. Our... friend."
Hatchet clenched his hands into fists. "She was more than that to me," he whispered, his voice cracking.
"You're talking about me like I'm dead," Eve pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "I'm literally right here."
"For what you did, you might as well be dead to us," Marx snapped coldly.
"And what exactly did I do, Marx?" Eve inquired, tilting her head and squinting at the youngest dragon.
"Oh, don't even!" Malcom suddenly snarled, standing so sharply his chair fell over. "You know exactly what you did—exactly what you're doing!"
Silence fell upon the group.
The PFC stared at Malcom in shock, stunned at his burst of negative emotion. "H—Hey," Cameron stammered, startled (and a bit scared). "Take it easy, Malcom."
"He has every right to be upset, Cameron," Gustav said in an icy voice, narrowing his eyes at Eve. "She hasn't even told you the worst thing she's done."
"Now, just one moment!" Fisi broke in, his voice carrying an indignant tone. "Are you accusing my partner of—"
"It's okay, Fisi," Eve interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Let them speak." She turned to Hatchet. "Hatch? You wanna tell them, or should I?" she asked, her playful tone replaced momentarily by a more serious one.
Hatchet looked away, glaring off to the side.
"Okay. Guess it falls to me." Eve took her hand off Fisi's shoulder and faced the Protectors. "I had Hatchet's child," she said abruptly.
"What?" Kayla exclaimed, turning to Hatchet. "Izzat true, mate?"
"...Yeah," Hatchet replied darkly. "It's true."
"I put her in an orphanage," Eve went on. "So she's safe. I couldn't have her around while I helped out Fisi and his kin; they partook in some... dangerous business."
"We're well aware of what kind of 'business' you partake in," Gustav retorted in a clipped tone. "One of the only things you've done right is taking care of your daughter."
"But she's usin' her against me," Hatchet snarled accusingly, facing Eve against as he slammed both hands onto the table. "Tryna keep me from diggin' too deep."
"Ugh. More baseless accusations," Eve scoffed, rolling her eyes.
"BASELESS—?!"
"Hatchet," Cameron snapped.
"Uff!" Hatchet—who'd stood up—grunted as Cameron stretched out a wing and swatted him back into his chair.
"Stay in your seat," Cameron ordered, shooting him a look. She turned to Malcom and added, "You too, Malcom."
Malcom reluctantly sat down as well, still shaking with barely restrained rage.
"We trusted you, Eve," Fitch said in a quiet voice, shaking his head. "Despite everything, we trusted you. What is so important that you must break that trust in such terrible ways?"
"If you think I'm breaking your trust by helping the Dark Celestials, then you clearly don't understand what I'm doing," Eve told him condescendingly. "We're not criminals, Fitch. We're making the havens better. Building economies, creating jobs—celebrating their very existence with the construction of the monuments! Is that so bad?"
"I'll tell you what's 'so bad'!" Zill responded angrily. "The gang violence you incited! The illegal weapons you distributed! The lives you take before erasing yourselves from all records! That's what's 'so bad'!"
"Hm." Eve pursed her lips in a faux-thoughtful manner, rubbing her chin. "Tell you what, Mr. Martinez. You bring me proof to support those claims, and I'll concede."
Zill gritted his teeth. "You're going down," he growled. "Someday. Both of you are going down."
Fisi sighed, leaning back in his seat. "And here I was, hoping we could leave this meeting on amicable terms. Alas, that shan't be the case, it seems."
"You knew that would never happen," Cameron said calmly. "Deny it all you want, but you brought us here—brought her here—with the sole purpose of ticking us off."
"Avatar, you mustn't—"
"We're done here," Cameron interrupted suddenly, rising to her feet and turning around. "Come on, guys," she said to the Worthy as she walked back toward the restaurant. "Let's head out."
"Av—ah." Fisi threw up his hands in defeat as the Protectors left, leaving the dragons and Salvia behind. "You just can't reason with them, I suppose, hmhmhm." He tapped his claws together, eyeing the dragons. "Will you all leave, too? Or will you stay for the meal?"
Fitch dissolved into his own shadow, vanishing from sight.
Malcom shot upward with his wings spread wide, moving so quickly it seemed he'd just disappeared.
Marx stood up, adjusted his suit and bow tie, and left without a word.
Salvia rose from her seat and floated backward, dematerializing in the shadows of the restaurant.
Hatchet remained where he was, staring at the table in sullen silence.
"Well, at least one of our guests has some decorum." Fisi snapped his fingers and called, "Waiter! You may bring out the appetizers!"
"I'm not staying," Hatchet said glumly. "I just..." He trailed off and let out a sigh. "I sometimes wonder what it would be like," he murmured, "if ya hadn't left me high n' dry, Eve. If you'd given up on this stupid quest a' yers... if you'd stayed with me... if you'd loved me—"
"I did love you!" Eve interrupted indignantly, her voice shaking. "I've told you a million times! I loved you, and that's why I had to leave!" She stood up and pointed an accusing finger in Hatchet's face, spitting, "You were in my way! You were a roadblock! You were my everything, and I HATED IT!"
Hatchet stared up at Eve as tears ran down his face, unable to respond.
Eve did not cry, however, though it seemed she very much wanted to. Instead she exhaled and sat back down, crossing her arms and fixing Hatchet with an even stare. "I'm not gonna explain myself to you again, Hatch," she stated. "I've got a path to walk, and I'm not leaving it for something as childish as love." Then she smirked, adding, "But hey—it'll be fun having me around again, huh?"
Hatchet suddenly shifted into his dragon form, knocking over chairs and causing the Masked Men to leapt to their feet, guns drawn.
The second oldest Drake son leaned forward, snarling as smoke billowed from his nostrils and red flames leaked from the corners of his mouth. "We ain't done yet, Eve," he hissed, going nose-to-nose with the undaunted jackalope. "We're gonna take ya down, and we're gonna make ya pay."
"I can't wait to see you try," Eve responded in a teasing tone, patting Hatchet's snout. "Don't be a stranger, baby."
Hatchet unleashed a screaming roar into her face and shot into the sky, disappearing from view.
Eve blinked, her hair blown back and face covered in draconic saliva.
"...Er... get her cleaned up, please,"Fisi told one of his Masked.