Chapter 167 Visit.

Chapter 167: 167 Visit.

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.

"Do you know anything about this, Polaris?" Mystic demanded, her grip tightening on the sleeves of her sweater.

I forced down the sudden spike of panic in my chest and kept my posture completely relaxed. "Why suspect me?" I asked smoothly.

"An entire factory floor encased in permafrost. The structural metal components of the building ripped apart and magnetically thrown about the room." Mystic took another step forward, the air around her hummed as her form outlined with a red glow. "And a man whose brain violently exploded from the inside out. I can think of very few organized groups whose combined power-sets would so flawlessly match the destruction we found there."

"Come on now," I said, waving a dismissive hand. "You found some frost on the walls and a bunch of torn-up machinery. Why jump straight to me? There are any number of street-level capes in Metropolis who would have loved to stumble across a rogue mad scientist and completely trash his lab. We both know that."

She didn’t blink.

"And his head blew up? What about it?" I pressed, leaning casually against the wrought-iron gate. "That kind of catastrophic cranial damage could be done by anyone with baseline super-strength. Or, more likely, one of his own illegal bio-experiments went awry. Why would I personally go after him?"

I tilted my head, looking at her more attentively. "Why do you think I went after him?"

Mystic stared at me, her tired eyes completely unreadable.

I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest and staring right back. "Is this because I turned down Khonsu’s amnesty offer?"

"It is not," she replied sharply.

"Then why?"

Her finger tapped against the sleeve of the sweater as she slowly hovered off the ground.

"We both know you’re not going to do anything here," I said, nodding at the weapon. "I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong. You know it, and I know it. You have a dead mad scientist. They die literally all the time. They have a worse mortality rate than lemmings going on vacation to the Grand Canyon. The man was probably testing some highly unstable new flora formula and it made the green in his head explode."

Her eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch.

The air instantly crackled with lethal tension. Literally. Sizzling static rolled off her, I watched as a synth materialised from the red in her hand.

I didn’t flinch, just stared the S-class heroine down with grim, professional finality.

Finally, Mystic raised a finger, pointing it squarely at my head.

"You’re interesting, Miles," she warned? Not sure because it sounded like a warning but felt like a compliment. "I sincerely hope you had nothing to do with this case. But I am far from ruling your league out."

I shrugged nonchalantly. "Sounds sensible. I mean, I am the bad guy. What kind of hero wouldn’t suspect a known super-terrorist? But for now, since we’re done here, do you want me to call you an Uber?"

Instead of answering, she finally drew back her synth as it sleeked back red aura over her body.

I instantly stiffened, my magnetic fields flaring to life beneath my skin—but all she did was raise a hand to the sky.

All the transformation I’d seen before this involved loud cracking of bones and an uncomfortable amount of groans.

Mystic’s transformation was more or less like shrugging off a coat as she turned into a red glowing phoenix.

I watched the bird took flight, almost blowing me back with the initial flap of her wings. Then, I slowly looked down at the feathers she left on my lawn for me to deal with.

Haah. It’s always so wonderful when company drops by.

Whatever. I’d have Rhea’s spider-bots deal with it in later. Right now, I needed to have a very serious conversation with my psychic about the logistics of exploding heads.

Fortunately, I didn’t have far to go.

As I pushed through the heavy double doors of the chalet foyer, I found all four women waiting for me in the lobby.

Glacia had been standing rigidly by the front window, turning to face me the second the door opened. Lilith was draped elegantly over a velvet armchair, filing her crimson nails.

Psyren, meanwhile, was doing a terrible job of pretending she wasn’t anxious by lying entirely upside down on a nearby sofa, dangling a chew toy over Nibbles’s snapping jaws.

Her feigned ease was completely ruined by how fast she scrambled into a sitting position when I walked in.

"Is anything wrong, sir?" Glacia asked, her eyes darting toward the front windows.

"No. Well, kinda." I stopped in the center of the foyer and crossed my arms. "Psyren?"

"Myeah?" she squeaked.

"I need you to think back very carefully to last night," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "When you were rummaging around inside Doctor Green’s mind... did you, I don’t know, accidentally set his brain to violently explode?"

"Huh?"

"Just... tell me the truth," I said.

She looked genuinely perplexed, her pink lips pursing in deep uncertainty. "Uh, no? No, I totally didn’t, boss. Why? Did his head explode?"

"According to Valkyria, yeah," I said. "Probably shortly after we left him in that alleyway."

Psyren’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and a massive, delighted smirk spread across her face. "Cool."

"Psyren!"

"Not that I did it!" she added frantically, waving her hands in front of her face as my visor darkened. "No way, boss! I’d never disobey your direct orders! Or, at least, I wouldn’t unless I was feeling really naughty. But not, like, with something that actually matters to the league! Honest! Cross my heart, hope to fry, stick a needle in my eye!"

I stared at her for a long, heavy moment. Then, I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Alright," I said. "I believe you."

"Wha—Really?" Psyren blinked, looking almost offended. "Because, honestly? I wouldn’t even believe me."

"Maybe. But I do," I said flatly. "Because you’re a terrible liar."

"Hey!" she barked indignantly.

I shook my head. "Psyren, if you had actually made a man’s head spontaneously combust with your mind, you wouldn’t have been able to stop bragging about it. You probably would have taken a selfie with the corpse and put it up on your Instagram feed."

"Ugh, true," Lilith chimed in, not looking up from her nail file. "And besides, exploding heads are a terrible aesthetic. Brain matter is absolutely impossible to get out of leather. It’s a total fashion crime."

Psyren seemed to genuinely consider my logic, then nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay, you’re right. I totally would have posted that," she admitted.

"That does seem incredibly on-brand for her," Rhea agreed from the corner, tapping away at her holographic wrist-pad.

"Exactly," I said. "Which means someone else definitely did it."

"Who?" Glacia asked, her voice turning to chips of ice.

I shrugged, pacing slowly across the foyer. "Could be any number of people. The Neons might have come by once we were gone, panicked, and plastered his brains over the pavement. Or some random street-level vigilante got trigger-happy."

I stopped, looking squarely at the girls. "But odds are, it was the Brain Trust. The Mind likely realized Green had been compromised and took the opportunity to permanently settle the score and tie up their loose ends."

"Huh. Yeah, that actually makes perfect sense," Psyren said, her brow furrowing in anger. "So... what now, boss?"

"Now?" I said, a cold, metallic edge creeping into my voice. "Now we figure out exactly where the Mind is operating from. And then we pay him a little corporate visit of our own."