Chapter 166 Dead.

Chapter 166: 166 Dead.

"Yes!" she squealed, pressing her crimson hands to her cheeks. Her sheer crop top strained dangerously against her chest as she bounced on her heels. "It is I! Your resident fashion demon, at your absolute service!"

She clapped her hands together, her spaded tail whipping around excitedly. "And I already have so many amazing concepts! Even though you completely shot down my first pitch, Milesy. Which was very closed-minded of you," she added, giving me a massive, exaggerated pout.

"I am not summoning a legion of actual hellspawn to act as interns," I said firmly. "Even if you can color-coordinate them."

"But they’d look so cute in matching tactical vests!" Lilith whined. "But fine, fine. As you like it, Milesy! Mortal henchmen it is. And that is always such a fun challenge! We need something modest yet eye-catching. Something thematic yet deadly. Skulls! Everyone loves a good skull motif!"

I had to agree with her there. High-tier supervillains and skull motifs went together like waffles and syrup. It was industry standard for a reason.

"Okay," I said, nodding along. "So we’ve got skulls. We’ve got a black-and-red color palette. What else have we got?"

"Uh, boss?" Rhea chimed in.

"Right, we’ve got someone... wait, sorry?"

I turned to Rhea. The tech gremlin had her head cocked to the side, frowning intently at a glowing holographic screen hovering just above her wrist projector.

"Got someone at the front gate," Rhea repeated, tapping a few keys in the air. "Looks like they want to come in."

"Who is it?"

"Uhhh... maybe you better see for yourself. Here," she said, swiping a finger upward.

The massive wall monitor behind the Big Table suddenly flickered to life. The high-definition security feed displayed a woman standing on the gravel road directly in front of the reinforced iron gates.

She was clad in simple casual clothes—just a pair of jeans and a pashmina sweater you wouldn’t expect from one of The Five. Her disapproving, tired face was turned straight up toward the security camera.

Mystic.

"Oh, fucking great," I groaned, rubbing my eyes. "I have one of The Five on my lawn."

"Maybe it’s a social call?" Rhea suggested unhelpfully.

"Yeah. Right. Because S-tier heroines love dropping by villain lairs for brunch," I said dryly.

"Should I activate the perimeter defenses, sir?" Glacia asked, rising smoothly to her feet. The ambient temperature in the war room immediately plunged.

Psyren cracked her knuckles, grinning evilly as a faint pink aura flared around her temples. "Or should we invite her in for some... fun? I’ve never made an S-lister bark like a dog before."

"Open the gate," I told Rhea reluctantly. Then I pointed a stern finger directly at the psychic. "And absolutely not. No fighting her. I’ll go out and meet her. Everyone else, take five. Do not blow anything up while I’m gone."

There was some disappointed murmuring from the girls, but they took the order in stride, which I deeply appreciated.

I didn’t waste any time. The moment I cleared the heavy oak doors of the chalet, I tapped into my magnetic reserves, levitating myself for a massive burst of speed. I went zipping across the manicured lawns, flying low and fast toward the front gate.

The fact that Mystic had shown up on foot was actually a pretty good sign and a bad one—Khonsu was the one that was supposed to be the direct of all things Polaris.

If he wasn’t here, it could mean something serious was going on.

If she was here strictly for corporate-sanctioned violence, she’d just bypassed the gates by blasting into the front lawn like a goddamn meteor. But it wasn’t like she needed uniform to cause trouble, so absolutely anything was on the table.

As I touched down on the gravel, the heavy iron gates slowly hissed open.

Mystic walked in tired, her keen eyes flicking across the tree line and the architecture, clearly assessing the chalet for kill-zones and automated turrets.

"Mystic. What a pleasant surprise," I said, planting my boots firmly on the gravel to physically block her from advancing any further up the drive. "What can I do for you?"

"Miles," she said stiffly. Her hands were folded as she scrutinized my property. "I wish to speak to you."

"Do you? About what?"

Her eyes roamed slowly across the expansive grounds, scanning the perimeter, before they suddenly stopped dead, arresting on a single point just over my shoulder.

I glanced back, following her intense gaze.

She was staring dead-on at the twenty-foot-tall, tyrannical ice monument of myself looming over the center fountain.

I felt a massive wave of heat rise to my face beneath my helmet. Oh, God.

"Ah..." I started eloquently.

"I see you are currently decorating your lair with massive, graven images of yourself," she noted, her tone completely devoid of humor.

"Yes, well, it adds a bit of... necessary flair to the place. Don’t you think?" I said weakly. "Is there a reason you’re here and Khonsu isn’t?"

"After a call was made from your phone to his, the BSA think it best if you get a new case officer." Her eyes narrowed to dangerous crimson glowing slits.

"Would you like to come inside?" I deflected quickly. "Have some tea? Biscuits? Coffee?"

"No. Thank you," she said coldly, returning her gaze to me. "Were you aware of a certain occurrence in the abandoned industrial district last night?"

"Occurrence?" I repeated, keeping my voice perfectly neutral.

"The Bureau recently responded to a highly irregular... incident," she said, taking a slow step forward. "An abandoned greenhouse had been the scene of a massive, unrecorded battle."

Fuck! I guess I shouldn’t have been entirely shocked that the BSA had eventually noticed what went down there.

A localized ice age near a chemical plant was hard to cover up forever. But I was genuinely surprised someone had specifically called them in.

The local Neon heroes certainly wouldn’t have escalated it to the Bureau, and I couldn’t think of anyone else who would have noticed the wreckage.

Good thing I’d had Psyren aggressively wipe the memory of the one civilian witness.

"Is that right?" I said mildly. "Any leads on what happened?"

She gave me a level, piercing look.

"Few," she admitted. "The entire interior appeared to have been flash-frozen solid by an incredibly powerful cryo-manipulator. A number of bio-engineered monsters had been encased in ice inside, along with a highly elaborate, illegal genetic laboratory. The work of a certain Doctor Green, apparently."

"Gosh," I said, crossing my arms in mock concern. "That sounds terrible. Is he alright?"

"He is dead."

I blinked, my sarcastic act completely dropping. "Excuse me?"

Mystic’s stare could have nailed a poster to concrete.

"One of our perimeter patrols found Doctor Green in an alleyway three blocks from the greenhouse area. Dead." She paused, letting the silence hang in the freezing mountain air. "His head had completely exploded."

I felt a genuine, icy chill work its way down my spine that had absolutely nothing to do with Glacia’s powers.

"What?" I said softly.