Chapter 306 - New Recruit

Chapter 306

New Recruit

Alexander crossed the main concourse of Astra Omnia.

His senses washed over the station, Electrokinesis mapping the bioelectrical signatures across the surrounding levels. It picked up tens of thousands of people, spread thin across a structure built for hundreds of thousands.

One signature stood out. Familiar and powerful.

Valerie paused what she was doing and glanced in his direction, despite the distance and the intervening buildings and other structures.

Their Wills brushed against each other for a fraction of a second.

She nodded.

Alexander returned it, though she couldn’t see him anymore than he could her. He wondered if that meant she’d forgiven him for threatening to murder King in front of her. The Royals had sent Titanic to help rescue him from the wizard world, which suggested at least professional goodwill. Whether the personal side had recovered was another question, and one Augustus was better positioned to answer.

King had taken the confrontation far better than Queen. He carried the threads. Had seen firsthand, not over holo, exactly what the Lost Prophet was capable of. And then he’d put two and two together after the Machine God and the Dragon Lord sat across from him, ready to end his existence if he refused to be part of what they were building.

There was something crucial in that difference. The three Divines all possessed a deeper understanding somehow, though whether that was characterization or causation, he didn’t know.

If the prophecy was to be believed, even fractured in the aftermath of the first of the Eight’s death, Divines would rule the planet in the coming months. Superhumans that were something more, though he was beginning to see that Divinity didn’t confer inherent strength.

Not for would-be gods clad in gold instead of red, at least.

The Machine God’s Will pushed outward, just enough to reveal his own threads. Red and gold. What had begun as two lonely crimson threads had multiplied into thousands, though they were still dwarfed by the millions of golden threads that ended where he stood.

But his red threads numbered in the thousands no more. By his estimate, only a few hundred remained.

Alexander understood why. Artensah or one of the other Exalted, perhaps even the Empress herself, were trimming back his influence within their army. Killing those who’d grown to fear the Machine God more than they loved the rulers of the Stars.

Perhaps there were other ways than death. Maybe they were giving them pep talks and holding morale-boosting rallies with cake. Because while he hadn’t seen it happen, he assumed that faith could waver. Worship could be reclaimed or redirected, as hearts and minds were conquered.

Or murdered.

Because he just couldn’t bring himself to believe the Empire had the patience or tolerance to build bridges instead of burning them.

He sighed.

The concourse had been designed for crowds that just weren’t there. Every other time he’d visited Astra Omnia, the place had been alive. Families lining up at food stalls. Heroes posing with fans on the viewing platforms. Teens clustered around holo-displays. Villains in costume browsing shops beside the same civilians they terrorized on Earth. The absurdity of it had always amused him.

A space station owned and operated by notorious supervillains, wanted the world over, somehow functioning at the solar system’s most popular tourist destination.

Now it was quiet. Half the restaurants had their shutters down. The viewing platforms were empty. The display boards showing viewing times for Annie’s favorite part of the station, the arenas, had only a few events listed.

Even the ambient noise was wrong.

Before leaving the island, he’d spoken briefly with Augustus while he was preparing breakfast for the guild. According to him, things had accelerated the past few weeks. The Cataclysm announcement from the Compact conference had landed hard, not just here but across the planet, but it had still taken time for most of the world to accept it. More governmental organizations, or what remained of them, had thrown their support behind the preparations. Superhero and supervillain groups alike were choosing sides, forming alliances, or going to ground.

The knowledge that something bad was coming, even without knowing what that thing was, had caused distractions like Astra Omnia to lose their appeal.

Alexander understood it. He just hadn’t expected to feel it so clearly even in space.

Droney drifted beside him, visor tracking the sparse foot traffic. A maintenance crew dangled from the ceiling, working on a lighting fixture overhead. A pair of station security guards watched him pass from a junction, recognition on their faces. A superhero glared at him, eyes narrowed almost to slits.

He ignored them and made his way toward the private docking tubes on the far side of the station. Sleipnir was waiting, though the sensation across the bond remained as muted as it had since the first time he noticed it. Even after returning to Earth 1. He wasn’t sure what that signified.

Technopathy bypassed the security bulkheads, opening them as he arrived then closing them after he’d passed. A lone Astra Omnia security officer scanned him up and down, recognition crossing his face, before nodding and letting him through without challenge.

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As he stepped into the private tube connecting the station and Sleipnir, he focused on the bioelectrical signatures aboard the ship.

Ryan. The Chief. Petra. And someone new.

He hadn’t been informed that the crew was adding to their numbers, though given the two open spots in the roster since the loss of Bradley and James on the cultist world, it probably shouldn’t surprise him.

Grimnir had continued operating in his absence, which was exactly what he’d intended in the first place.

Alexander cycled the airlock open with a combination of Technopathy and Metallokinesis, stepped inside, then let it cycle again before crossing through the second airlock door.

His senses permeated the starship, all the way from engineering where the Chief was taking a nap and the ship’s core pulsed rhythmically, thrusters cold, to the bridge, where the rest of the crew were stationed.

Alexander frowned. Sleipnir was silent, even now that he was standing aboard the ship. He probed the bond, feeling for any activity, any awareness, and found nothing but the ongoing, subtle pulse he’d felt since waking up in the nomadic wizard camp.

He stepped onto the bridge, the door sliding open ahead of his arrival, and found Ryan and Petra leaning over a young man with messy hair.

All three looked up in surprise.

Ryan snapped to attention and saluted. “Mr. Rooke! I wasn’t aware you were back, sir.”

“Hey, Alex,” Petra said. “Glad to see you’re okay. Everyone’s been real tight-lipped ever since the Sleipnir went crazy.”

Alexander chuckled. “I’m glad to see you both. I—”

The young man moved.

Long phantom arms erupted from his back, three on each side flickering translucently. They slammed into Ryan and Petra simultaneously, hurling both crew members across the bridge. Ryan hit the tactical station and crumpled. Petra crashed into the sensor console, flipped over it, then hit the deck hard.

The man’s bioelectrical signature exploded. What had read as a baseline human a second ago surged, attributes spiking so fast it had to have been suppressed using a power of some kind.

Tier 2. A strong Tier 2.

He threw himself out of the chair. Phantom legs materialized beneath him, cycling rapidly and carrying him across the bridge so fast his real feet barely touched the deck.

The man closed the distance to Alexander in under a second. At the same time, conjured swords appeared in the phantom hands. Two drove straight for Alexander’s chest, points first. A third swept toward his neck. The remaining three carved inward from wide angles, targeting his arms and legs.

Even caught by surprise, Alexander responded faster than anyone in his position reasonably should have. Hyperawareness had picked up on the slightest tensing of the man’s shoulders, the subtle repositioning of his feet beneath the station he’d been learning to use.

One mental thread erupted outward with the Machine God’s Will, riding on the wave of his Domain. It crashed over the assassin, but the man’s eyes barely narrowed in response, his own Will coating himself an instant later.

Alexander’s cybernetic hand flicked up and Electrokinesis fired a bolt of lightning as thick as his arm at the man’s own chest.

The assassin flowed around the attack, part of his torso turning ethereal where the lightning would have just barely brushed against him.

Alexander threw himself backward. Metallokinesis pulsed through his boots and armor, launching him off the deck and sending him spinning through the air.

The phantom blades stabbed and sliced through the space he’d occupied a fraction of a second earlier, the translucent edges passing close enough that he felt the displaced air across his stomach.

Alexander landed on the ceiling, hanging upside down with casual ease. With a thought, the lightning bolt curved, circling back toward him.

The assassin hadn’t slowed, already launching after Alexander with a second series of attacks, only to be caught in the back by the lightning bolt which sent him hurtling across the bridge. He crashed into a chair and went down, bouncing once, before flipping back to his feet, a look of shock on his face.

Alexander cocked his head. “Huh. The look on your face says you thought you knew how this fight was going to go and that you weren’t expecting that.”

Which meant the man had studied up on his abilities. Terrible timing. He’d returned to Earth 1 a changed supervillain, with his powers more complete than they’d ever been.

Alexander continued. “I can’t decide if you’ve got the biggest balls in history or the smallest brain ever. Trying to kill me on a fucking spaceship?” He stretched out his arms, still hanging upside down. “I could crush you in an instant.”

It was mostly bravado. He couldn’t risk venting the ship, not without the OACS, which he hadn’t even had time to collect from Augustus’s Closet, let alone begin repairs, and especially not with some of the crew aboard.

He avoided looking at Petra and Ryan, who were both quietly getting to their feet. They were not ready for a fight of this caliber, and he hoped they knew it. Even taking a moment to connect with them using the System to subvocalize an order might alert the assassin.

“No metal can harm me,” the man said suddenly, lowering his real arms. The phantom limbs faded with it. “Not even the vacuum of space is a threat to me, even if you could do as you threaten.”

Alexander grinned. “Lightning it is, then.”

The man shook his head. “No. I am leaving. You are stronger than described, which means the contract is null and void.”

Alexander’s grin slipped from his face. “Just like that? You think I’m going to just ignore the fact you tried to kill me?”

“Yes. Because I did not, have not, and will not threaten your guild members despite hostilities.”

Alexander blinked. The words were nonsense, but somehow the man’s intention made sense. Worse, he found himself agreeable to the entire exchange. The assassin could have used the others against him. Could have already killed them, long before he arrived. Even now, he wasn’t confident he could stop the eight-armed phantom in time if he changed his mind.

He dropped from the ceiling, spun in the air, then hovered a few inches above the floor. His Will pressed down on the man, the threat implicit. They could come to terms, but there was a price to be paid first.

“Fine. But if your contract has been voided, then you can tell me who hired you, right?”

The man thought for a moment, then nodded. “I am an independent contractor. The hit was outsourced by the Hand of Shadows. I do not know who they were representing, and I can give you nothing more.” He headed for the nearest bulkhead. “Good day.”

Then the assassin phased through it.

Alexander tracked the bioelectrical signature, still fully unveiled to his senses, until it left the ship.

He turned back to Ryan. “Who the hell was that?”

Ryan tugged his uniform down. “John Smith, according to his resume.”

Alexander’s eyes narrowed. “And that didn’t tip anyone off? That’s literally the classic fake name. Not even Annie is dumb enough to use it.”

Ryan shared a look with Petra, then shrugged. “Carmen vetted him.” He sighed. “ We’ve been training him to take the second navigator slot. Now we need to begin the recruitment process all over again.”