Rorschach needs to find a Broker soon. I've put nearly all of our Cowl activities on hold until we can get everyone's costumes. She needs to have an update tonight.

  I type the code into the lockbox safe under my bed. Inside is the new mask, ring, black leather gloves, canisters, my Cowl phone, and a new gun. I grab an empty canister, the mask, the ring, and the canister I filled at school. Hydrochloric acid. It took me weeks of sneaking around at the school to get enough to fill it up. It's lethal and liable to melt someone's face off. I shouldn’t need it, but just in case. All of those items go into my duffel bag, and I zip it up.

  I open up my closet and start getting Nobody's outfit together: straight-leg pants, an undershirt, a baggy hoodie that's a size too big, and a pair of high-top sneakers. Everything is white and pristine, not a speck of dirt on any of them. The outfit, combined with the new helmet, makes me unrecognizable as the Nobody from before. That Nobody is gone, buried beneath molten rock at the old base. I get changed and slip a black belt through my pants loop. I put the ring on and then my gloves.

  I text V and get in the elevator down to the massive, multi-floor garage. She texts back that she'll meet me there. Every resident gets two spots, but I didn't bring my truck to Quinstin, so I don't use either of my parking spaces. I step out onto the third floor and walk over to where V’s car is parked. She's standing next to her white SUV and actually wearing an outfit fitting for a college party. What happened on that shopping trip with Isaiah?

  Her top is a cropped dark-green cable-knit sweater. She's wearing black bootcut jeans and a pair of Converse. Her bright red hair is up in a ponytail that shows off the lotus-patterned undercut beneath. Dark green lipstick and gold hoop earrings complete the outfit. She almost looks like a different person. In a couple of months, so will I. I've already started changing my wardrobe, and I'm letting my hair grow out until I figure out what direction my persona will take while at college. Short and straight to the point, maybe long and unkempt to show a lackadaisical attitude, or buzzed and dyed for a more punk look.

  “You look nice.”

  “Thanks, Eryk. I hate to say it, but Hotpants was right; my wardrobe needed life support. It took a bit to get used to, but I can still fight in this,” she said, practicing a couple of standing kicks.

  “He does have a good eye for fashion. Only you would worry about the practicality of an outfit in regard to combat. Let's go; I'm eager to see the progress Kai has made,” I said, getting into the back.

  Vivienne nods and gets in the driver's seat. The backseat of her SUV is tinted enough that no one will see me, and I hold the mask on my face. Tapping the ring against it transforms it from a mask to a helmet. And just like that, Nobody is here. I pull the hood up and stare out the window. Our apartment building is a twenty-minute drive from the manufacturing plant we bought. Vivienne and I don't talk; our car rides are peaceful affairs.

  We arrive at the plant, which has changed significantly since the last time I visited. A dilapidated stone wall surrounds the property, and rusty barbed wire covers the top. We drive over the speed bump in front of the entrance and stop at the gate. There isn't a guard waiting for us, only a speaker. Once the cash starts coming in, we can consider hiring personnel.

  “Open up,” V called out the window.

  “Who's bothering me? Oh, it's you guys. One second,” Kai said through the speaker.

  A beeping sound comes out from behind the gate, and it slowly opens. I can sense four powers in the plant. Everyone is here. I need to find time to take Rorschach's power and give it back. Having her be undetectable could come back to haunt me. The plant is five times bigger than the last base, an incredible six acres, including a parking lot and a separate storage warehouse. The warehouse’s red paint is chipped away, with only a few spots left to hint at the original color. There are more holes in the roof than actual metal. The plant is five stories tall, with the plan being for a massive three-story tall open area manufacturing plant and then two floors above for offices and meetings. I don't know how far Kai has gotten on that. Eventually, we'll add an underground lab, but not until everything else is set up. And the best part is that there are elevators—no more fifteen-minute walks to get up and down everywhere.

  The entire building is made of rusty brown bricks, with rusty and cracked paned windows toward the top. Thankfully, the structure was still sound and didn't need reinforcement. The parking lot has five cars as well as the box truck we use to transport people. There are cracks in the asphalt where grass and other vegetation are sprouting out. Vines are creeping all over the sides of the plant, and I can see several bird nests on the roof. A single damaged smokestack emerges out of the far back of the roof. Vivienne parks between Isaiah's muscle car and Kai's Porsche. We hop out and head over to the side entrance.

  Through a push bar door lies an empty room. The lights are working, but no one is here. I can see steel boxes, wooden crates, and carts full of miscellaneous materials. Concrete chunks, plaster bags, sheets of metal, electrical wires, and more are neatly piled up in some vague imitation of organization. Kai knows what he's doing. The interior walls of the building have an exposed grid of thin metal wrapped in copper wires that go all the way to the ceiling. He's making the plant into a giant Faraday Cage. Smart. Small metallic spiders are crawling everywhere, welding, stitching, mixing mortar, and doing other general construction tasks. Steel cubes with cameras on every side except for the top, where several rotating blades keep them aloft, are using chains to move various items around the room. There are new drones with six to eight drill bits spinning on the front and a set of off-road tires to move them around. Those drones are carving holes into the cement floor.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  We make our way through the active work zone toward the elevator. My sense tells me everyone is upstairs. The elevator takes us to the second floor; the third isn't finished yet. We step out onto the second floor, and it still has some of the furnishings from when it was an office for the plant, with a mix of cubicles and private offices separated by hallways. Vivienne follows me as I walk down a twisting path, turning left and right as I follow my sense, until we arrive at a closed double door with fogged glass sidelites. I can hear the others inside, and someone, probably Tuesday, has spray-painted the words secret meeting on the door. It was definitely Tuesday.

  We enter the conference room, and everyone is there. There’s an open spot at the head of the table and the seat to the right of it. Isaiah has on a short-sleeve white dress shirt with black slacks and matching suspenders. A brown bowler hat, black bow tie, and gold watch make for a classy look. He looks even larger than the last time I saw him. Is it a trick of the eyes, or is he actually growing? Rorschach is in a black gown with detached sleeves that transitions from opaque around her chest to sheer around her lower thighs. Kai’s pink and green hair is fading and pulled back into a short ponytail. He's been too busy to get it redone. He's wearing a tight slate blue shirt and coral-colored overalls. Tuesday is in her typical attention-grabbing outfit, and Miles has cleaned himself up. His unruly mane is combed, and his facial hair has been trimmed to be as sharp as a razor. He's wearing a charcoal suit that shows signs of tailoring. Everyone rises as we enter.

  “Hiya, boss man, I was getting ready to fall asleep from boredom,” Tuesday joked.

  “You can all take your seats again,” I said, my helmet making my voice sound like an amalgamation of everyone here.

  “God, that's so fucking creepy. I can hear my own voice mixed in with everyone else’s,” Rorschach said.

  “It is a bit unsettling. Which I understand is the point, but you know,” Miles added.

  “Personally, I think it was a stroke of genius for whoever made it. I think it perfectly fits the theme of Nobody while keeping it fresh and fun,” Kai said snidely.

  “I agree. And I think it looks very nice, very new age gangsta,” Vivienne said.

  God, the two of them have the subtlety of a car bomb. They’re basically wearing giant neon signs that say ‘I know more than I’m saying.’

  “I’m just gonna move past whatever the fuck you two are hiding. When are we going to make a move? Rorschach and Kai have things they can do, but the rest of us are stuck twiddling our thumbs. I know you have a plan, Nobody, so what is it?” Isaiah asked.

  “Yes, I have a plan, but it's useless to tell you unless Rorschach has found what I tasked her with. I understand everyone's frustration, and I appreciate your patience. So, Rorschach, do you have any news on that front?”

  “I do have a lead. There's this bar over on Strathum Avenue where Cowls go to make deals. The place doesn't allow weapons on the premises and has a no-violence policy that is generally enforced under the threat of immediate retribution. I couldn't figure out who the owner was or who could have the clout and strength to enforce a rule like that. The Merchants are the likeliest answer. I haven't been able to get eyes inside; too high of a risk of being discovered, but I think this is the place,” Rorschach answered.

  “Sounds like a promising lead to me. My mystery sense is tingling, and only the great Detective Tuesday can solve it,” Tuesday said.

  “It sounds promising. Isaiah, you wanted something to do; well, go with her and see if you two can get me a meeting with a Broker. Don't rock the boat while you're there, Tuesday. If this place is run by The Merchants, and I’m able to have a talk face-to-face, I'm confident they'll be interested in what I can offer,” I said.

  Tuesday tumbles backward out of her chair and sprints for the door. “Watson! There is a great mystery afoot, and only the brilliant mind of Sherlock Tuesday Holmes, the greatest detective, can solve it,” she screamed.

  “Isaiah, it would be prudent to keep your identities secret, especially considering the publicity our company will eventually receive,” I said.

  “I got you.” Deep black smoke begins trailing off his left arm, coalescing in a ball above his hand. He closes his hand around the ball, and it transforms into a golden hockey mask. He slides it over his face, tightens the straps, and bursts into a tornado of thick, black smoke, flying into the ceiling ducts.

  Isaiah has achieved multiple combinations of powers between the three he possesses. He can attune objects to himself four times as quickly, infusing whatever it is with the same power that makes him so durable. Any object he attunes can be transformed into smoke, and he keeps the extra smoke inside his body. He figured out a way to partially transform his internals, hollowing himself out and filling the space with all the extra smoke.

  “What a pair of fucking attention whores. Both of them would die if they left the limelight for a second. Is there anything else, or am I free to go?” Rorschach exclaimed.

  “Yes, all of you are free to go except Miles. Stay behind,” I said.

  Kai and Rorschach immediately leave, but Vivienne stays sitting next to me. This is good; if you are going to be Momentus's COO, you need to learn this. Miles looks uncomfortable with the silence as everyone else leaves. Despite changing his look and manner of dress, he’s still the weak and pathetic jellyfish Isaiah picked up.

  “Miles, months ago, I asked you if you wanted to be the match to burn the Heroes’ Union down. You accepted, but we haven’t done much toward that goal. Today marks the beginning of the dominoes we’ll need to place to topple them. Are you still interested?”

  Per usual, as soon as it comes to his revenge, the meek and mild Miles disappears.

  “Absolutely. Whatever it takes, I'll do it.”

  “Good. I'm going to give you two abilities that I believe will synergize extremely well. You need to master these abilities completely,” I said.

  He doesn't flinch at hearing his own voice come back at him. Good, you need to be unfazed.

  “I swear I will.”

  “Miles, the abilities I'm going to give you are a tier four and a tier five. You are going to use these abilities to become the best Cape Quinstin has ever seen. Slowly, we will erode the base of trust that the Heroes' Union has built here. You will be a beacon of hope that the world still has protectors of truth and justice. As you continue to show up the Union, they won’t be able to sit back and let you garner all this goodwill. The Capes will feel threatened by you, and it will make them reckless. You’ll expose them for their nepotism, elitism, and blatant hypocrisy. It’s time, Miles; I'm going to make you a hero.”

  Current Powers/Personality Pieces Nobody has:

  1. Alter ability to choose where your center of gravity is/ Addictive personality (Froggy)

  2. Manipulator ability to absorb electricity, control and wield electricity/ Envy (Lee Daeshim)

  3. Manipulator ability to create up to three orbs of sound that can absorb all sound within and then be released all at once at a later time/ Joy (Murmur)

  4. Mentalist/Alter ability to see trajectories of moving objects and can make themselves and other nonliving things bouncy in a way that defies physics/ Pride (Tramp)

  5. Traveller ability to pull objects to themselves, pull themselves to objects, and swap themselves or objects through tunnels in reality/ Compassion (Callback)

  6. Caster ability to create short-range kinetic beams from their extremities/ Aggression (Punch)

  7. Traveller/Alter/Manipulator ability to separate their body into sections, dissolve said sections, clone pieces of their body, and rematerialize them anywhere in sight/ Increased libido and voyeuristic tendencies (Jeremy Swaim)

  8. Caster/Traveller/Manipulator/Alter/Ruler ability to create constructs, weapons, and objects out of different forms of energy/ Flair for drama and theatrics (Father Forward)