The Aura Snapshot for Lea wasn’t any less complex than the other D-ranked Skills he had cataloged once upon a time, and yet…
“Done!” he declared triumphantly as they waited to step through one of Errol’s portals.
By his side, Tania’s aura felt conflicted. She’d been quiet since Lea had left, but Terry hadn’t noticed at first, absorbed in his task as he’d been.
Now though…
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked quietly.
She pursed her lips, her eyes flicking toward him, then away.
“I’m second-guessing if this is a good idea…” Her voice trailed off.
He shook his head in confusion. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?”
“Because, Terry…” She sighed, shaking her head.
“Because?” he prompted.
She growled in quiet frustration. “Because I’d be taking one of your Affixation slots! Wasting it in some tent while you’re in one of those damn rifts, fighting!” She whirled on him, her eyes slamming shut as she winced in pain. Taking in a deep breath, she forced them open. “I can’t ask you to waste one of your slots on me.”
“I’m not wasting one of my slots, Tania. It’s being used to get you inside one of your own rifts. Besides,” he added with a scowl. “You’re not asking. I’m a big boy, I can make my own decisions.”
She scoffed, opening her mouth to argue, but he cut across her.
“It’s done. I’m loaning you the Skills right now and if you don’t use them to heal up, then I really would be wasting the slots on you.” He flashed her a triumphant grin. “So there.”
A low, defiant rumble sounded in her chest, but he ignored it, pulling up his Skill list.
With a thought, he began Affixing Advanced Bone Growth. Despite Tania’s reservations, he had plenty of space for a single D-ranked Skill. His aura crawled for a few minutes while they waited for essential personnel to pass through Errol’s portal.
When it was done, he activated Loan Skill and targeted Tania. Her eyes widened instantly, flipping toward him with surprise.
[Advanced Bone Growth] has been loaned. This Skill cannot be accessed while loaned.
“What’s it feel like?”
Her lips parted to respond, but her eyes went out of focus, like she was reading a System notification. He bounced impatiently as she gaped silently.
After a full minute, she met his eyes.
“This is…incredible.”
He felt her aura shift, then felt a pull on his aura.
“Whoa,” he said in surprise. “That feels weird…”
“You feel it too?” she asked.
“Just like a…pull. What do you feel?”
“It’s like a…I don’t know, a growth maybe? That’s not quite the right word. Like an attachment or…” She shook her head in frustration. “I don’t know, just feels weird.”
He took a moment to turn his senses inward, really trying to feel what was happening underneath the hood. There had been a moment before his Midmark Summons when he had been on the cusp of rewriting Tania’s entire aura to grant her a connection to his portal Skill. Though he had been using a cat as his template, there had been no appreciable difference between what Marlon did with his cats, and what Terry had intended with Tania. In both cases, there was a permanent alteration made to the target’s aura—very much like his own Affixations, though those weren’t permanent. But in addition, there had been a powering component, a tether that had drawn on Marlon’s aura when his cats teleported.
This both felt like that and didn’t at the same time. As he dived into his own aura, it was obvious that the portion dedicated to his new Advanced Bone Growth Skill was inert. As the Loan Skill description indicated, he knew he couldn’t use it just from the way his aura lay. It wasn’t as if the Affixation had been removed, but more like it was being used—just not by him.
He found the connection that linked the two of them and immediately recognized that it was no simple powering tether. There was visible energy passing along the connection, but it was also more than that. He couldn’t quite decipher it, but it was almost as if data were streaming through that thread.
Tracing the connection with his mind, he found where it connected with Tania’s aura. Unlike what Marlon had done, the alteration to Tania’s aura felt surface-level at best.
It was like she had said; her aura had a nodule attached to the surface…a growth molded like a pared-down version of his own Affixation.
As he ran his senses over that nodule, she visibly shivered and took a step back. His attention pulled away, his eyes rising to hers with confusion.
“Sorry?” he asked, unsure what had happened.
“It’s…it’s fine. It just felt like—” She shook her head with a humorous snort. “Nevermind. Just…take a girl out to dinner before you start manhandling her aura like that.”
His eyes bugged out in surprise. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to—”
She laughed lightly. “It’s fine, Ter’. Not like you were molesting me or anything.” The heat that rushed to his face must have betrayed his embarrassment, because she laughed harder this time. “Come on,” she said quickly, clearly letting him off the hook. “I see one of Errol’s portals free. I’ve always wanted to visit Mexico City!”
He fought to keep the relief from his face, but she must have sensed the eagerness in his step, because she snorted behind him as he quick-stepped to the open portal.
“Makes a habit of squaring off against killer sanguine,” she muttered under her breath, “but can’t face down a teenage girl.”
He spared himself more embarrassment by pretending he hadn’t heard her. The silent safety of sub-space engulfed him a moment later and he stepped out into a churned up field cresting a hill. Chaos surrounded him, shouts in Spanish and English ringing out to direct traffic, hundreds of supers and non-supers alike milling about as they found their groups, and in the distance, dozens of aberrations pulling on his spatial senses.
Someone lightly gripped his elbow, directing him away from the flow of the portals as he snapped back into focus. Tania arrived at his side a moment later, but his mind was still spinning.
“Do you feel it?” His voice was quiet, distant even to his ears.
Her brow furrowed. “Feel what?”
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He found her eyes, at first confused how she could possibly miss it. But his senses were that of a C-ranker—more so, he knew. And his feel for space was on par with a natural Traveler, rather than the Alterant he actually was.
She tilted her head, studying his reaction. He shook his own head in response.
“It’s nothing, I just…” Dozens of distracting pulses pinged across his senses—Awakened entering the rifts, he realized. “I feel the rifts. They’re like Traveler portals, but not, at the same time.”
Tania’s face lit up, an obvious eagerness there. He felt the loaned Skill working away at her arm and found himself silently praying it wouldn’t heal too fast.
Despite knowing that Tania intended to delve these Incursion rifts—if not these particular ones, certainly some in the future—he held out an irrational hope that the rest of them would end this invasion before she had the chance.
He’d never say as much to her, but he feared for her safety and the fight with Savage had only served to amplify his anxiety. She may have possessed Danger Sense, but Seers weren’t known for their offensive or defensive capabilities.
And unlike Mara-Lin-Jaid, Tania didn’t seem to get much forewarning of the future to protect herself.
“When are you going in?” she asked. He couldn’t be certain, but he thought he heard her own trepidation layered beneath the tone of her voice.
“I’ll talk with Mom and see where the Protectorate puts me,” he replied. “I imagine they would want to balance out the compositions rather than just a free-for-all.”
She nodded. “Makes sense.”
The two of them stood to the side as a good portion of the group from San Francisco migrated over. He knew it wasn’t everyone, as they had left a contingent behind to watch for insurgents, in addition to the injured who were still healing.
Still, he couldn’t help but marvel as nearly a thousand people—both powered and mundane, filtered through Errol’s portals in the span of about ten minutes.
When his mother came through, he felt his hackles rise as Savage trailed her. Though his eyes and posture appeared docile, he couldn’t fully wipe away the image of the revenant throwing Tania through the air with deadly intent.
A part of him still longed to see Savage dead—for everything.
Tania’s good hand lightly gripped his wrist, drawing his attention away from the revenant.
“Hey, stay focused, okay?” He met her eyes. “Don’t think about him or me or any of it when you’re in there. Clear that rift and get the hell out, alright?”
He forced a smile on. “What, you worried about me?”
She scowled but there was no heat behind it. “Is that what you need to hear, huh?” She took on a mocking distressed tone. “Oh, Terry, I’m so scared for you! Please be careful while I fret away at the hem of my skirt!”
“You’re not wearing a skirt,” he pointed out in a smug manner.
She swatted at his arm, then grimaced as the movement affected her other arm.
“Don’t annoy me or I’ll be forced to hurt myself getting back at you!” she declared as if that made all the sense in the world.
He gave a mock bow. “Apologies, for being so annoying.”
She snorted. “Don’t forget insufferable.” A moment later, she added, “And sanctimonious.”
“Yes, yes, those things too.” He opened his mouth to say something else, when a voice sounded in his head.
Terry, I’m meeting with Alianza del águila now. We’re about to make rift assignments.
Tania seemed to sense his change in mood. “What?”
He found his mother with his eyes before turning back to Tania. “My mother called for me. They’re making rift groups.”
Her face shifted, turning stony as she nodded. “Okay…be safe.”
He returned her nod but as he went to go, he found himself hesitating. Her eyes narrowed in confusion, but a sudden clarity gripped him.
Before he could chicken out, he leaned in and kissed her. It was quick, their lips mashing together in a way that seemed less graceful than the movies.
And yet, his heart still hammered like a drum in his chest.
He pulled away a moment later, registering the shock on her face before it quickly shifted into a soft smile.
“Be careful,” she whispered, her voice husky.
He flashed her a smile, then set off in the direction he’d seen his mom go.
Despite knowing he was heading into potentially mortal danger, his steps had never felt lighter.
Terry felt like a wallflower as his mother and the other high-ranking members of the Protectorate met with Alianza del águila. Just in this tent alone were some of the continent’s most powerful supers.
Terraform was there, his aura seeping into the very earth—titanic in its weight. Yet beside his mother, the powerful S-ranker seemed closer to an A than anything.
Among the Alianza, the most prominent member was El águila himself—the Eagle. He was an S-ranked Duelist that could shift his form. In his human form, he looked like a well-built man in his fifties, jet black hair streaked with touches of grey, high cheekbones and an angular jawline that evoked images of his namesake, and dark walnut skin that contrasted powerfully with the green magic swirling in his eyes.
In his other form, Terry knew he sprouted wings, a viciously shark beak, and talons that could shred steel. With the speed and strength of a Duelist and the capability of flight, there was a reason El águila was the figurehead of Mexico’s greatest superhero group.
Which made it all the more terrifying when he realized that the Protectorate and the Alianza were not getting along.
águila’s voice was like rasping iron as he eyed Terry’s mother with lowered eyelids, clearly unimpressed.
“You are in Mexico now, Rosa. In Mexico, Mexicans protect Mexicans.” He gestured with a disinterested wave. “If there are any rifts left when we’re done, the Alianza will let you know.”
Terry was at the far edge of the tent, as inconsequential as any low-ranking members. But the Eagle’s tone made him want to portal across the space and slap the man.
Not that he thought he had a chance in hell. But the blatant disrespect for his mother chafed at him.
“Please, call me Penelope.” His mother’s tone was sickly sweet, a touch too high as if she were forcing herself to remain diplomatic. “And may I call you Hector?”
At the name, the Eagle stiffened, his half-lidded eyes flaring as his eyes flicked to Penelope. There was something about that name that had triggered the man and Terry wracked his brain trying to remember the Eagle’s pre-Awakened identity.
Once upon a time, he had known every S-ranked super—and most A-ranked—by name, both super identity and regular—if it was public information. But after he’d Awakened, the needs of Feed Wichita and later Topeka had distracted him from his boyish hobbies; he’d fallen off studying HeroWatch entries unless they were relevant to his Quests.
But as he thought back to what he remembered of the águila’s HeroWatch entry, he recalled that first byline that was present on every super entry.
El águila
His mother’s words spiked across his thoughts. Hector…she knows his real name…
The discomfort in the Eagle’s posture was obvious. He shifted from foot-to-foot, narrowed his eyes a touch too dramatically, then tilted his head as if confused.
“Hector? That isn’t my name, sweet Rosa, but I see what you’re doing. Admirable effort, but you wont shake me from my position.” Terry took comfort from the knowing smile on his mother’s face. “Mexican Awakened enter the rifts first.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Northerners can enter if our people get tired. Perhaps tomorrow, or the next day.”
His mother nodded, her face softened with compassion and understanding. “Of course, Hector.” The Eagle visibly flinched at the name, as if she were casting some compulsion upon him. “But what if they don’t wait until tomorrow or the next day? What if the invaders are inside those rifts as we speak?” She sighed, shaking her head. “We’re lucky there’s no A-ranked rifts, otherwise they’d be through already.”
He scoffed, turning to take in the assembled members of Alianza del águila and the Protectorate.
“A-rankers? What threat are A-rankers to Alianza del águila?” His question was met with casual laughter and rumbles of agreement. He turned back with a smug smile. “We have over a dozen S-rankers here in Mexico City—and another half dozen around the country. Why would we fear A-rankers?”
Penelope’s easy demeanor shifted down a gear, her aura unveiling the barest fraction, yet smothering the lower-ranked in the back of the tent and drawing surprised gasps from those closer to her.
Even Terry, who had witnessed the breadth and depth of the Weaver, was shocked by the casual display. It was like cracking a door open and catching the rays of the sun in your eyes. He pulled his senses back even as his mother addressed the room.
“There’s no doubting the strength of Alianza del águila.” Her voice was powerful now, contrasting with the demure timbre from before. “But even a mighty eagle can be laid low by a murder of crows.”
Power surged now, blanketing the entire room, tapping against every aura with a casual but insistent force.
“This is what four A-ranked rifts over San Francisco bore forth!”
A memory played in Terry’s mind—not his, yet as seamless as if he had been there himself. Dozens of rifts wove above and through the Bay Area—some laying dormant as Earth forces delved them, others flaring in warning as invaders poured from within.
The memory was so vivid, he could even feel the auras of the invaders as they burst free from their rifts. A dozen A-rankers appeared in a flash, met instantly by a pulse of power that he recognized as his mother’s. They didn’t all die in the attack, but were clearly disoriented enough for the Protectorate’s A-rankers to rise and meet them.
Then, another dozen A-rankers appeared. And another. And another.
Each group was met by his mother’s power, but the sky was becoming clouded by enemy soldiers—hundreds upon hundreds of alien creatures of every rank pouring free from the rifts.
He felt somewhere deep inside the memory that there were almost two hundred A-rankers, and twice as many B-rankers, attacking San Francisco. His mother and the Protectorate forces won out through the presence of not only her, but the other S-rankers supporting her. But as he remembered from the casualty report, the enemy hadn’t been turned back without cost.
As the memory faded, the mood of the tent hit him like a physical force; shock, horror, and a healthy dose of fear.
No one spoke, each processing the memory in their own way, until finally, the Eagle broke the silence.
“Alianza del águila is happy to share these rifts with the White Rose and her Protectorate.”
Though his mother should have been pleased with the concession, there was no hint of happiness in the set of her lips.
Only grim determination.
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