TINA woke Emmett up at six with a message from Serenity. Both Mod and Arsenal were due for Summit patrols in an hour. She'd brief them with more when they arrived.
Emmett groaned and sat on the edge of the bed. He unwrapped the bandage from his thigh. A thin line of blood wiped away to reveal a thick scar. Emmett stood, testing his weight on the leg.
It still ached—the deep, dull pain reminded him of when his bones had been laced with metal—but he could manage. Muscle would heal faster than bone, and Emmett was no stranger to pain. Between TINA patching him up, and the Mutagen-A and nanites helping him heal...
Well, Emmett was just glad that he could go back out there.
Emmett pulled his pant leg back down and went outside. Clara and her dad were already at the kitchen table. The smell of eggs wafted through section 001.
He stretched and walked over. Clara looked as tired as he felt.
She waved an energy bar at him and set it in front of his chair. She chewed and mumbled, "Breakfast of champions."
"Everything the body needs... for half a day," Venture added. He smirked and took another bite of his eggs.
Emmett sat down and glanced between the energy bar and Dr. Venture's breakfast.
Mighty Munch—the Official Energy Bar of the Summit of Heroes
Emmett had heard of them before, at least on the forums, but he'd never actually seen them in real life. When Emmett was a kid, he'd begged and pleaded for his parents to get him some. Apparently, they weren't sold to civilians.
Since then, he'd read enough about them on the forums to temper his excitement. They were closer to military rations than a protein bar you got from the supermarket. The consensus was that Mighty Munch bars were made to keep you alive—they weren't made to taste good.
Emmett was pretty sure you couldn't buy them unless you were a sanctioned hero. Whether that was because they were licensed by the Summit or because they didn't sell was up for debate.
The Mighty Munch bar in front of him was mint chocolate chip. That one supposedly tasted like toothpaste.
"Better than eggs, huh?"
"Absolutely not," Venture replied. "But you don't have time for a real breakfast. I'll give you another energy bar to take with you."
"...Do you have any other flavors?"
~
Mod and Arsenal flew in a heavy drone to their assigned staging area. Even though TINA had repaired his super suit, Emmett had been given a backup to wear for today.
Apparently, TINA wanted to test the repairs to make sure the non-newtonian fluid channels in the suit weren't compromised. Mod thought she was worrying over nothing, but expressed his gratitude.
It was odd to think of the AI worrying about him like that, but Mod didn't dwell on that fact. Assisting in research was part of her programming, and the super suit was part of her research.
Mod and Arsenal departed the heavy drone and walked the rest of the block to the staging area. Some of the new recruits from yesterday were already in the fenced-in parking lot and going through their own training. Most of them had traded in their homemade costumes for color-coded Summit bodysuits. It helped, but Mod still couldn't shake the thought of a Class 1 recruits going up against the Deep Ones.
Even before Mod and Arsenal got to the gate, nearby supers paused to look at them. There was no applause this time, only murmurs throughout the groups. Mod couldn't tell whether they were in regards to yesterday's events with the Deep Ones, or whether other rumors had spread.
Thankfully, Mod and Arsenal weren't given time to chat. A guard ushered them through to the main building. Mod half-expected to go back to the presentation room from yesterday, but instead, they were ushered to the corner of the lobby.
McGuire was slumped in a chair, head laying back against the wall. Sleeping.
Arsenal cleared her throat.
"Huh?! I'm up! I'm..." McGuire adjusted his mask and glanced up at them. "Oh, hey. You made it."
Mod chuckled. "Did Marlene keep you up?"
McGuire groaned. "Me and half the building. If I'm lucky, someone will feed her to the fish-men—"
Arsenal tossed a small cloth bag to McGuire and hit him in the face. "Brought you something. Don't say I never did anything for you."
McGuire opened it and held up the contents triumphantly. "Earplugs! Alright, I've decided: We can be friends. Did, uh, the Doctor make these?" Clara nodded. "Oh man, these are probably the best earplugs known to man."
~
Before McGuire could test his earplugs, the three of them were escorted back outside to a Summit helicopter. Mod and McGuire sat across from each other in the passenger compartment, while Arsenal insisted on flying beside them.
It was eerie having so much room in the helicopter. Just yesterday, they'd been packed in like sardines.
Serenity's voice came through their headsets.
She explained that they would meet the previous patrol group on the Northern outskirts on the East side of Belport. Then Mod's group would patrol a loop around Eastside. At the same time, two other groups of Summit capes would patrol downtown and the West End. That way there would always been three teams keeping an eye on the city.
Serenity stressed using their best judgment when it came to engaging any enemies they encountered. There were reports of small groups of Deep Ones pushing into the city—thought to be scouts. Mod's group was free to engage these and Serenity stressed the importance of putting the creatures down quickly.
If they encountered any large groups, they were to call for backup before engaging. The three of them were each given an emergency grenade—a combo of bright smoke and GPS signal. They were supposed to call for backup on their radio and use the grenade.
"Sounds easy enough," McGuire said. "No one be a hero and we'll be fine."
Mod pretended not to hear. He looked out the window at the flooded city.
~
Mod leapt from building to building. McGuire followed close behind using a mix of his spring-loaded boots and grappling hook. Arsenal flew overhead.
It was an eerily familiar feeling, except for the waves lapping at the second-floor windows. The smell of salt spray and oil lingered in the air. Streetlights protruded above the water like the masts of sunken ships.
Their path meandered across Eastside, sticking to the offices and parking garages that were closer together. Occasionally, Arsenal had to carry McGuire across wider streets.
Meanwhile, Mod stretched his legs. He hurtled over gaps with borderline Class 3 strength—his prosthetic legs further bolstered by his implanted batteries and Gait Enhancement. On the larger gaps, Mod's jumps were so violent he had to tuck his arms and tighten his entire body. When he pushed his limits, he made sure to only leap from the corners of reinforced structures like parking garages. Otherwise, he might've caved in a roof.
Mod was so strong that he rarely needed his whip to help him traverse rooftops. Now he only used it to slow down and stay close to McGuire.
The hardest part was keeping an eye on the waves while he was jumping and swinging.
Every few minutes, Mod would glimpse shadows or movements beneath the waves.
"See anything?" Mod asked.
Arsenal replied, "Still nothing. Trust me—I'll call out when I see something."
It felt like Mod's eyes were playing tricks on him. Even with his enhanced vision and Arsenal's reassurances from above, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.
The feeling that the Deep Ones were lurking just beneath the surface.
Movement in a nearby building caught Mod's attention.
"I think we got one. Follow my lead."
Mod was already leaping off his roof. He lashed out with his whip and swung wide, then tucked just before he hit the glass. He burst through, tumbled across the office floor, and rose to face his enemy.
But he was alone.
Mod skulked around the room, his fists clenched and whip snaking through the air.
The office was open and most of the furniture was undisturbed. The carpet was wet though... Completely soaked through. The air was thick and stagnant, the smell of mildew bordering on mold.
McGuire asked over the comm, "Mod, what's going on?"
"I don't see anything... Arsenal, I need your eyes."
She flew in a moment later, twisting gracefully through the broken pane of glass. Her exosuit boots squished on the soaked carpet.
Together, they swept the room.
And found absolutely nothing.
"I'm telling you, I saw something in here."
"We've all been on edge," Arsenal replied. "It could've been the light or the waves playing tricks on you."
"What about the floor?"
TINA replied, "The carpet seems equally saturated throughout the floor. Even though this is the third floor, it's likely from storm surges or even burst piping."
Mod groaned in frustration.
Arsenal added, "If there was something here, it's gone now. Let's keep patrolling."
Mod turned, scanning the room quickly, but it was just as empty as before. Finally, he relented.
Maybe his brain really was playing tricks on him.
~
Around noon, the group stopped on the edge of a parking garage for a snack. The boardwalk was all but gone, save for the Ferris wheel and tower swing sticking out above the water. When the waves ebbed, they could just make out the roofs of old shops. Cloaked drones floated overhead.
Mod and McGuire sat on one of the concrete barricades, while Arsenal flipped open the lower half of her helmet.
McGuire pulled out a packet of trail mix and dumped the entire thing in his mouth.
Mod pulled out two Mighty Munch bars. "What flavor do you want, Arsenal? Cranberry or... Banana?"
"Cranberry," she replied without hesitation.
McGuire's eyes widened. "Venture had those? No way. Let me see that... Holy shit, they—'' McGuire snorted a laugh. "They expired three years ago!"
Arsenal took a bite of her cranberry bar and chewed slowly. Even with half her face hidden, it was clear that cranberry wasn't a winning flavor.
McGuire tossed the banana-flavored bar back to Mod and pulled out another packet of trail mix. He chewed and his face suddenly went pale.
"What?" Mod asked, thinking his friend was choking.
McGuire swallowed. "Oh, man... I hope he's got better taste in earplugs than he's got in snack bars."
~ ~ ~