The man underneath was just as regaclass="underline" perfectly chiseled face, golden hair, and hazel eyes that glimmered like finely cut gems. His expression was a mix of pain and mortification, marked by the shame of being taken down by what he considered a lesser being.
Vigil was used to it.
He held his glowing hand only inches away from the Lion's face, painting it in electric blue light. "You three are the last of the Beasts. Surrender, and I'll bring you to justice."
"Justice?" The Lion spat at Vigil's feet. "I've seen your justice in our blood spilled on the streets."
"That was your justice, delivered by your leaders. If you don't like it, you shouldn't have preyed on children."
"I didn't. We were just security."
"You profited. You were a part of the operation."
"You have no idea what you're doing, little man. We all have parts to play in this little simulation. We're just pieces on the board."
Vigil leaned closer, visor pulsing with crimson light. "I'm not playing your game. I'm ending it."
The Lion's laughter was thick with scorn. "You can't end something that you don't understand. Don't you get it? You're able to do these things because Haven Core allows you to. Because you amuse them. You're entertainment, that's all. And the moment you cease to divert their attention, the moment you become an annoyance… you're finished."
"I'll take my chances. Right now, you're finished. I'm taking you in."
The Lion's face twisted with scorn. "You take us in and we're dead. You should know that by now. Kill us now and get it over with."
"How are they doing it?"
"Killing us? Through the Light Switch."
"What's that?"
The Lion tapped a clawed finger against his head. "Chip in the head. Everyone in the Haven has one. Call it the price of admission. Opens up the mind to all the goodies Haven life offers… and does a nice job of instant execution when the situation calls for it. The public trial last year was just a show for the masses. They're not bothering with it anymore. Not when they can kill us with a flip of a switch. Just like the others you brought to the surface. Every single one died in police custody, didn't they?"
Vigil hesitated. "Yes. Hemorrhaging in their brains."
"That's right. Which is why we chose the tunnels, deep under the city where their signal can't penetrate. Not all of us were in for the perverted sex games. For some of us, it was an escape. A bid for freedom. And you had to go and blow it all up in some misguided attempt at heroism. Even now, you can't do the real dirty work. You'd rather let someone else do the killing than do it yourself. Why — so you can sleep better at night? So you can call yourself a hero? You're no hero; you're just a pretender."
"I'll be a pretender if it means stopping your operation. You'd better hope we'll be able to figure out how to deal with the Light Switch when we get topside."
The Lion's perfect teeth clamped together. "Hope? Save it for the weaklings that buy into it. I'm a Denizen of Haven Core. We chose how we wanted to live, and we'll choose how we die. Too bad you won't be able to say the same."
He slapped a hand on the bulky case attached to his belt. Ominous red dots blinked on the display. Vigil turned and ran toward the chamber exit, boot thrusters firing to propel him faster. The explosion followed, ramming into him in a wave of flame and searing heat. He didn't know if his armor held up or not because the sheer force sent him spinning into unconsciousness.
The light flickered in colors that shouldn't have existed, transforming the entire skyline into something unreal, like the hallucinogenic moments between dreams and awakening. Glimmering flecks glinted, leaving streaks of vapor in their wake: fighter jets, zealously guarding the surrounding airspace, ever alert for incoming threats. Jett stood on the rooftop of the Imperial Alliance building next to Marcus, gazing at the Skygate. His brother stared at it too, face impassive but eyes distant, lost in thought. Jett couldn't imagine what feelings Marcus experienced. His brother was never one to discuss his emotions, or much else for that matter. He was a lot like their father in that way.
Jett thrust his hands in his pockets. "It had to be you."
Marcus glanced at him, a smile touching his lips. His eyes were haggard, his shoulders bowed from the weight of the world on his back. Everyone considered him a legend, a natural leader of men. Jett knew better. He knew the struggles that Marcus hid from nearly everyone else.
"Not just me. The team. The movement. We all have a part to play."
"You know what I'm talking about."
Marcus looked back up at the Skygate. The spherical device hung in the sky like a second moon, hazy in the blue-violet sky. "If not me, who?"
"Anyone else. You're not the only one with the ability."
"I'm the strongest. And we can't count on anyone else. This is our only shot at eradicating aberrant energy from the atmosphere. If it doesn't work…"
"Cataclysm."
"Exactly. There's too many variables, too many things that can and probably will go wrong. I'll probably have to improvise up there. Especially with the Imperial Liberation Force vowing to stop us. The war is turning in their favor, and we're out of time. It's this, or the planet dies."
Jett shook his head. "How do you always know?"
"Know what?"
"What to do. It's been that way since we were kids. You were always the first to volunteer, the first one out the gate, the first to take control of a situation. And you've always been right."
Sadness touched Marcus' eyes. "Not always."
"More often than not. I've tried. Tried my best to lead the ACU after you were promoted, but it feels like I never lived up to your rep. I'm always second-guessing things, trying to figure out what you'd do in my place."
"Yeah, you might want to stop doing that to yourself."
"What choice do I have? You're a living legend. I'm just the kid brother that gets in his own way half the time."
Marcus placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're a good man, Jett. It's hard to be a leader and stay that way. Trust your instincts. It's like catching yourself when you fall. You ever think about the options on the way down?"
"Of course not."
"Because it's reflex. Same with knowing what to do. Roll with your gut, and trust your instincts."
The light flickered…
Under his helmet, Vigil opened his eyes. The tunnel ceiling moved, lurching in clumsy motions. It took a few seconds to feel the tug on his back plate and realize the passageway wasn't moving — he was. Craning his neck, he saw the rusted, cylindrical robot that dragged him through the muddy slop of a narrow sluice into a larger tunnel, where the rusted remnants of subway rails lined the ground like dinosaur bones. Suffocating darkness surrounded them, illuminated only by the robot's headlamp, which roved across the vine-threaded, dirt-plastered walls.
"Zip?"
The robot's head turned. "Zip follow Jett. Save Jett from fire. Zip happy to help."
Vigil held up a hand. "Hold on, Zip."
Sitting up, he suppressed a groan as pain lanced through his entire body. His armor was scorched, his g-spans fried. He tested his limbs, relieved to find nothing broken. "First, it's Vigil. When I wear the helmet, it's Vigil. Helmet off, it's Jett. Okay?"
Zip's head swiveled in a full circle as it processed the new data. "Zip understand."
"Secondly, how did you find me?"
His earpiece buzzed. "I took the liberty, Vigil."
"Incognito?"
"Yes, it's me. I lost your signal when you went deeper into the tunnels. So, I activated a backup plan."
"My old sewer-repairing robot is the backup plan?"
"One has to work with the tools at hand. I couldn't get in touch with Viper, so I hacked into your little friend. Good thing, too, because it looked like you needed a hand. That was a close one, Vigil."