I leave Kai and Vivienne to head to my office. The database didn't really convey how powerful the Bruiser could become. Every resurrection gives a flat point zero one percent increase in strength, speed, durability, and mental faculties. It's not just a Bruiser type; it's also a Mentalist ability. If I gave this to Vivienne and the increases carried over to her shifted form, she could become the strongest Neuvohuman of all time—an immortal, loyal soldier who can take on anyone. Forget Quinstin; I could run the United States. If it weren’t for the fact I’d have to kill her repeatedly, I might give it to her. His personality piece is a constant hunger. It isn’t related to any caloric intake component of his ability, either. Odd.

  Father Forward’s power is exactly as it was described. He's a Tier Five Manipulator who limited himself down to a Tier Three. Being able to control fire, light, electricity, plasma, radiation, and more but choosing only to use light was idiotic. This would synergize well with Lee Daeshim’s electricity powers. Miles has done well so far, but I'd like to continue to observe him before creating such a potent threat. The personality piece is a weird one, but it makes sense from what Vivienne described. A flair for dramatics and theatrics is maybe the most out-there piece I’ve gotten.

  General Franklin Prior's ability seems useful at first. But needing to touch someone to apply the shield is limiting. Surprisingly there is no limit on the duration or range. Once applied, it stays until it's destroyed. I don't have anyone who could take advantage of this. Not yet anyway. The personality piece is a longing for family. It might make me feel something for Daniel.

  I turn the Database on to do another search for Aubrey's teammates. Anything I can learn about them will help, especially if Virtue has a vendetta against me. I search for Virtue first. Virtue is a tier five Caster/Traveler/Bruiser/Mentalist Legacy Cape. Her parents are the Cape couple of Protos and Maximum. Flight speed is equal to that of a fighter jet, resistant to most forms of damage, accelerated thinking and memory retention, upper limits of strength unknown, and enhanced senses. All that without even mentioning she has heat vision. Eighteen years old, Virtue, AKA Violet Graves, did not have a trigger event and instead gained her powers at sixteen. I skim past irrelevant facts and videos of her in action. Legacy Capes are no joke. Could I give two people a collection of powers, have them procreate, and then take the power from their offspring? Can I take the powers from the parents after the child is born? Or would it not transfer the powers to their child? It seems like such an investment of time and money in the hopes of creating a super child. Once Momentus Inc. is larger and more established I can see about initiating some breeding tests.

  Under the category team is the rest of their group and Phoenix. I move on to the next member of Aubrey's team. Zephyr, AKA Sydney Dwyer, is twenty years old, so she's one of the Sophomores Aubrey mentioned. She is a Tier Four Manipulator/Traveler who commands the wind. She can use this to fly and even let others fly. Tornadoes, gale winds, and even siphoning the air out of a room are possible. She can communicate through the wind, allowing her voice to be heard from miles away. This one is another powerhouse. This must be the one Isaiah said prevented Ciggs from escaping.

  Ward, AKA Raphael Mendez, is an eighteen-year-old Tier Two Manipulator. His power is strong, but he's a utility Cape. Raphael can trace out red lines with his body that create absolutely impervious translucent red walls. If he makes a shape, there is only one way to get out of it: him allowing you to. He can designate others that are allowed to bypass his walls. His walls can't be tunneled under or flown over; they seemingly go on forever in either direction. He has no physical capabilities to speak of and zero fighting experience. I close out Ward's profile and pull up the last member of their group.

  Adversary, AKA Douglas Apper, is the first profile to have a flexible rating for how dangerous he is. Doug can be anywhere from Tier One to Tier Five, depending on the situation. He is an Alter with a secondary Mentalist tag. His power automatically determines a person’s strength and threat level, changing Adversary's strength to match the situation. Interesting, so if an older woman swung at him, he wouldn't get any benefit, but if she had a gun, he would be bulletproof. His power even accounts for groups of people and adjusts his strength to the group's threat level as a whole. Unlike Anna Lee’s power, which could activate without her knowing about the danger, Adversary’s ability doesn’t activate against unknown opponents. He has years of training in over eight different types of martial arts and fighting styles. Vivienne would love to fight him.

  Aubrey has somehow found her way onto a team of powerhouses. I can't picture her being a competent Cape after that night at the docks. I'll be able to keep a close eye on their team through Aubrey. I should look up more detailed information on the Heroes' Union members in Quinstin.

  The screen goes black and then I'm plunged into complete darkness. I can't see anything. My helmet is designed to allow me to see in the dark. What happened? Did Aubrey make a mistake? The door to my office is locked, so I can safely remove the helmet without exposing my identity. I press the button repeatedly, but nothing happens. Am I going to have to ask Vivienne to break the helmet? I hear footsteps despite the door not opening. The clack of nice dress shoes on the floor gets closer as someone approaches my desk.

  “Who's there?” I asked.

  My regular voice comes out without the helmet's voice modulator working. There's no response from whoever is in here. It could be Tuesday playing a trick on me, but she wouldn't be able to disable my helmet. I lean back in my chair, folding my arms. Depending on who this is, I might be able to overpower them. I just have to wait until they're close enough. The footsteps get closer and closer, the intruder still silent. When they go around my desk, I make my move, rushing toward the noise. I miss them completely and receive a knee to the stomach for my troubles. Before I'm able to get up, they stomp on my right wrist. It hurts, but it isn't even close to the most pain I've felt. When I try to push myself up, I get another kick into my ribs. Fuck. This isn’t going well. They grab the back of my shirt, hauling me to my feet.

  “C'mon, Eryk, we don’t want to be late for your meeting,” a male voice said.

  Wait. He said Eryk, not Nobody. Someone knows who I am. His voice sounds familiar but I can’t place it. I can feel a slight breeze followed by a freezing cold that lasts for less than a fraction of a second. The man handcuffs my wrists behind my back and pushes me to the ground. Is this how I die, ambushed in my own base by some unknown assailant? Executed like a cow to the slaughter, unable to defy my fate? I feel my face growing hotter by the second. How dare he do this to me?

  “Thank you, Andrew. You may take your leave. I have a lot to discuss with Mr. Blakely,” a feminine voice said.

  It’s clear that I am no longer at the base. Then where the fuck am I? Whoever Andrew is, he doesn't respond. I don't hear him leave, but clearly, he's a Traveller if he was able to infiltrate the base and spirit me away to wherever I am. Calm down, think. This is just like the trial; it was one versus five, and I still came out on top. I'm confident that there isn't anyone who can match my intellect or cunning.

  “That helmet looks claustrophobic. I can fix that for you.”

  My helmet shifts, transforming back into the flat mask mode and falling to the ground in front of me. My head is free from the darkness, my face exposed to whoever kidnapped me. Did she do that? If she did, then how? I turn my head, scanning everything around me and committing it to memory. There is no telling what little detail could help me in my escape. I'm in a huge, empty, circular room. The floor, walls, and ceiling are all made of seamlessly connected cobalt metal. The light in the room is coming from moving glowing spheres that don't follow any sort of pattern. They aren't connected to the ceiling, and there aren't any wires. This reeks of Tinkertech.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  So whoever is in charge either has a Tinkerer on payroll or is one themselves. I need to find a way out of here. The room has no visible doors, windows, hatches, vents, or any other kind of opening. Without knowing where I am, it'll be hard to figure out a plan. I need to explore. Rolling over, I tighten my core, leaning into myself to rock myself onto my feet. There must be a way out; I just need to find it. The process of tracing the room, using my elbow to check for any kind of seam or line to indicate a door, takes me over fifteen minutes. Nothing. How is there no exit?

  “You're wondering how a room with no exit can exist. Don't worry yourself about things beyond your comprehension,” she said.

  Her voice seems to come from everywhere, like stereo sound from headphones. She's trying to irritate me into reacting emotionally. Too bad for you. I won't lose in a battle of control. I show the most trusting and harmless smile I have in my arsenal.

  “You know my name already, both of them. But I don’t know yours. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?” I asked.

  “Does that normally work for you?” She ignored my question.

  “I'm not sure what you mean. Somehow, we have run afoul of one another, and I'm interested in generating a satisfying resolution for both of us,” I said.

  “Run afoul? Don't get ahead of yourself, child. You lack the capability to affect my plans. You are here because I decided a conversation was needed to instruct you on a few matters,” she said coldly.

  No one speaks like that to Eryk or Nobody. This woman has to die. She's just trying to unnerve me, the same thing I do to others. Don't fall for the bait.

  “The fact that you brought me here means you want something from me. Why don't you introduce yourself and then we can discuss terms,” I suggested.

  “Terms? There aren't going to be any terms. Terms are set between equal parties, and we are not equals. The gulf between you and I is so vast that you have more in common with termites infesting a log. You arrogantly believe you’re incapable of losing. But there is no winning here, Eryk; this isn’t a competition. Let me put this plainly; your continued existence is based on me allowing you to,” she said.

  Something snaps inside me. Punch's aggression mixes with Tramp's pride, Big Phish’s bloodlust, and Carapace’s irritability, producing a feeling I haven't had since giving away Davis’ power. My whole being is boiling, and I can't even think straight.

  “WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? NO ONE TALKS TO ME THAT WAY. NO ONE. I WILL MAKE YOU BEG FOR MERCY BEFORE I RIP YOUR HEART OUT,” I screamed.

  “There we go. The real Eryk Blakely has come out: a sick, violent, murderous child throwing a psychopathic tantrum. You believe yourself above all the other crabs, but you are trapped in the exact same bucket. Look around you,” she said.

  The walls shift, seams appearing where there weren't any. I checked those. They liquefy, the metal dripping down and being absorbed into the floor. What is left shocks me out of my fury. Three hundred and sixty degrees around me is clear glass, revealing where I am—a deep black void with twinkles interspersed everywhere. I shakily turn around and see swirling white mixed with blue and vaguely brown and green shapes between them. Earth? I can see the sun far to my left and countless rocks and other debris around us. I drop to my knees, my brain trying to comprehend what I’m seeing. Space? I’m in space?

  “You are an insignificantly small cog in the grand machine, but even you have a part to play.”

  “Who are you?” I asked, my voice low.

  This isn't something a small timer could accomplish. Is this the BNA, the Heroes' Union, or some other unknown group? How have I never heard of a Neuvohuman space station? Whoever is responsible is powerful in a way I didn’t think was possible. From the way the woman speaks it’s clear that she believes herself superior to me. I can’t argue that she has accomplished more.

  The center of the room swirls as it pulls away to expose an opening. I hear a sound coming from the hole, and it's getting louder. A platform is rising from within, and there is someone on it. A woman, no, a female humanoid, stands in the center. Is she a Shifter? A stretched-out black neck made of wires and black metal cylinders leads to a perfectly symmetrical sky-blue face with two pulsing red lines going down the eyes, eyes that glow white with no pupils or irises. Her hair is a swirling mass of thick, coaxial cables striped with pink, red, and blue lines. Five disconnected curved ovals float off to each side of the being's incredibly elongated arms, mimicking wings. Her chest is silver with blue lights on the front. She has an open-faced skirt emerging out of her waist. The wings, arms, legs, and skirt share a black metallic coloring with either deep blue or red lines carved into them, turning at harsh right angles. The being’s legs end at a rounded knee with ghostly white fire forming the remainder of her legs. Within the flames are strings of what looks like code to me. She is like an angelic android. Who is that?

  She floats over to where I am, floating above me. Her robotic mouth morphs into a mocking smile while her eyes change to crescent moons. She’s bending at her waist and her left hand is placed against her chest while her right is outstretched, pointing a finger at me.

  “I know everything about you, Eryk. I know about Vivienne, Isaiah, Kai, Rorschach, Tuesday, Miles, and Nicholas. I know about your everyman vigilante plan, Momentus INC, the murders, all your experiments with the Subjects, and what you're planning to do in Quinstin. Eryk, I know about your ability,” she said.

  How? There's no way she can possibly know all about that. Think. Focus. Start looking for answers. I've covered my tracks; no one within the organization would betray me, and none of them know as much as this woman does. Can she read minds? Some sort of psychic Mentalist who can see thoughts. There has never been a recorded instance of a Neuvohuman having telepathy, only telekinesis. I cannot come up with an explanation of how this person could have all this information.

  “How do you know all that?”

  “Think back, Eryk, think of everything you've done. The answer is right there,” she said gleefully.

  She’s taunting me. I close my eyes, going over everything that's happened since I put on the helmet. The docks, where the idea for Nobody really started. Meeting Vivienne and testing the idea of having a partner. Meeting Kai for the first time. Killing Murmur and Kitt. Accessing the database and understanding how much I could do with it. My eyes go wide as it dawns on me.

  “I’m serious, V, this doesn’t make sense. Something isn’t adding up. There’s no reason for a random drug-addicted PI to have something like this. It almost feels like a trap, but the bait is too good to pass up.”

  My voice comes through loud and clear, echoing around us. Everything clicks into place. She created the database.

  “The database?” I asked.

  “I call them Tomes, but correct. You said it yourself. Kitt Sursich could not possibly have created such a powerful piece of technology. His rampant drug use combined with underlying psychiatric issues had convinced him he made it himself,” she said.

  “All of this was preplanned?”

  “No, Kitt stole the Tome from one of my agents. He couldn’t recognize what he had acquired. Neither did you. He only used it to track down small-time criminals to fund his self-destructive lifestyle. I’ve made hundreds of them, so it wasn't a pressing issue to get it back. Imagine my surprise when suddenly, one day, the Tome is being used more efficiently and for far more than Kitt ever did. That's when I learned of your existence. It was simple enough to use my Tome to infect your helmet with a trojan program of mine. It takes advantage of the cameras built into your helmet that allow you to see through it, to record and stream everything you see or hear to me. I contemplated putting an end to you after seeing all that you were doing, but your power proved too useful,” she said.

  I stared at my helmet in its mask form, lying down on the floor. The thing I used to keep my identity and actions a secret was being used to track everything I did. I’m speechless—this whole time, she has been watching and recording my every move. At any point, she could have brought down everything I’ve created.

  How?

  “After you finished learning the limits and parameters of your ability, I knew you could be used to solve a problem of mine. Your doctor is quite talented and keeps meticulous notes. Of course, I have copies. My program infected every piece of technology in that quaint base of yours,” she said.

  “What could I possibly help you with? You seem to have everything planned out,” I said.

  “You’re the only person who can help me with two of my goals: continuing to protect humanity from itself and solving a problem that has plagued me for 170 years,” she said.

  Protecting humanity from itself? Wait, one hundred and seventy?

  “How?” I asked for what must be the umpteenth time.

  She floats around me, swirling through the air until she’s above me. Looking down at me, she smiles.

  “You lack the knowledge needed to ask the correct questions. It isn’t how, but who. In order to explain who I am, I need to tell you a story. About the founding of the Supreme Six and how I became known as Technologica,” she said.