The silk sheets of the master bed were cool against my skin.
I lay on my back, my hands resting behind my head, staring up at the darkened ceiling.
My eyes were closed, my mind hovering in that liminal space between waking and sleeping.
BZZT.
The familiar chime echoed directly within my mind.
I opened my eyes in the dark.
[Boss. You awake?] the System asked, its digital voice practically humming with suppressed excitement. [Because our boy in the green suit just clocked out for the night and his timesheet is absolutely filthy. I've got the loot crates ready. Do you want to open them now or wait until morning?]
"Now," I whispered into the quiet room.
The holographic blue interface materialized above me. The text scrolled rapidly, detailing the clone's rampage through the hidden corners of the Supe underworld.
[PLUNDER QUEUE: PROCESSING TARGETS]
[Supe Neutralized: Thomas Godolkin. Tier 2.]
[Powers Detected: Mind Control (Tier 2), Possession (Tier 2), Enhanced Senses (Tier 2), Immortality (Tier 2), Super Defence (Tier 2).]
[Choose Option: Retain or Convert?]
I read over the list. Possession. Intriguing, but I already possessed Tier 1 Telepathy. My control over the mind was absolute and spanned a hundred kilometers.
"Convert them all," I commanded silently.
[Converting five Tier 2 Powers...]
[Conversion Complete. +15,000 XP.]
The number ticked up on my peripheral display.
[Next up. The big one. The Nazi lightning rod herself.]
[Supe Neutralized: Stormfront / Liberty. Tier 2.]
[Powers Detected: Electrokinesis (Tier 2), Flight (Tier 2), Super Strength (Tier 2), Super Defence (Tier 2), Regeneration (Tier 2), Immortality (Tier 2), Enhanced Senses (Tier 2).]
[Choose Option: Retain or Convert?]
I stared at the first two items on that list.
Flight.
My Teleportation was a tactical masterpiece. It allowed for instantaneous relocation, perfect infiltration and impossible escapes. But it lacked the visceral dominance of actual flight.
And Electrokinesis. The ability to generate, manipulate and project massive amounts of raw plasma and electrical voltage.
It was the power of storms, a devastating elemental force that could fry electronics, stop hearts or incinerate a target in a blinding flash.
"Retain Flight and Electrokinesis," I thought, my heart beating a fraction faster. "Convert the rest."
[Oh, we are getting flashy now! I like it. Processing...]
[Converting 'Super Strength (Tier 2)', 'Super Defence (Tier 2)', 'Regeneration (Tier 2)', 'Immortality (Tier 2)' and 'Enhanced Senses (Tier 2)'...]
[Conversion Complete. +15,000 XP.]
[Powers 'Flight (Tier 2)' and 'Electrokinesis (Tier 2)' successfully integrated.]
Electrokinesis started at the base of my spine, a buzzing jolt that raced up my vertebrae and exploded into my nervous system.
I felt the hair on my arms stand up. I raised my right hand in the dark. I let the impulse flow.
Violet arcs of pure electricity crackled between my fingertips, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The power hummed, a caged beast begging to be unleashed.
I could feel the electrical currents in the walls of the penthouse, the hum of the television in the living room, the battery of my phone on the nightstand.
I clenched my fist and the lightning snuffed out, reabsorbed into my biology.
Flight was a fundamental decoupling from the laws of physics.
The concept of gravity, an invisible force that had bound me to the earth since birth, lost its grip.
I pushed the blanket aside. I willed myself upward. My body rose from the mattress. I floated three feet above the bed, suspended in the room.
I tilted my head and my body drifted forward. I raised a hand and I ascended toward the ceiling.
It felt as natural as breathing, a pure extension of my thought. I rotated in mid air until my feet touched the floor. The weight of my body returned.
[Look at you, Boss. The Flying, Freezing, Zapping Ghost. You're a one man Avengers movie.]
"Show me the final numbers," I said, a smile curling in the dark.
[HARVEST COMPLETE]
[PREVIOUS BALANCE: 26,600 XP]
[GODOLKIN CONVERSIONS: +15,000 XP]
[STORMFRONT CONVERSIONS: +15,000 XP]
[CURRENT TOTAL XP: 56,600]
Fifty six thousand, six hundred experience points.
"Show me the final status," I commanded.
The interface shifted, projecting the full inventory of my existence.
[FINAL STATUS]
[HOST: Aryan Spencer]
[CURRENT XP: 56,600]
[POWERS:]
Telepathy (Tier 1)
Biokinesis (Tier 1)
Cryokinesis (Tier 1)
Resurrection (Tier 1)
Super Speed (Tier 1)
Teleportation (Tier 1)
Regeneration (Tier 1)
Super Stamina (Tier 1)
Super Defence (Tier 1)
Super Strength (Tier 1)
Radiation Blast (Tier 1)
Disempowerment (Tier 1)
Flight (Tier 2)
Cloning (Tier 2)
Telekinesis (Tier 2)
Immortality (Tier 2)
Electrokinesis (Tier 2)
Enhanced Senses (Tier 2)
Shapeshifting (Tier 3)
Size Alteration (Tier 3)
…
[White House]
The Situation Room deep beneath the West Wing of the White House smelled of old coffee, polished wood and high stakes anxiety.
President Robert "Dakota Bob" Singer sat at the head of the heavy mahogany table, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked exhausted, the lines on his face deeper than they had been a few weeks ago. The political maneuvering required to keep the Supe military bill stalled in Congress was taking a toll.
General Francis Higgins sat to his right, his uniform impeccable, his jaw set like a steel trap.
Director Susan Raynor of the CIA sat to Singer's left, tapping a manicured fingernail against a secure tablet.
Grace Mallory stood at the far end of the room, her hands resting flat on the table. She looked grim.
"Alright, Grace," Singer said, looking up. "You called this emergency session. Tell me you have good news regarding our 'Phantom Platoon'. Did they respond to the dead drop?"
"They did, Mr. President," Mallory said. "But that is not why I called this meeting."
Singer frowned. "Then what is it?"
Mallory reached into her briefcase and pulled out a single manila folder. She slid it across the table toward Singer.
"Three days ago, our satellite surveillance over the Siberian sector picked up a localized radiological thermal event," Mallory began. "At first, the Pentagon thought it was a Russian tactical nuke test gone wrong. But the signature was completely anomalous. No fallout plume and no EMP spread. Just a concentrated burst of energy."
General Higgins grunted. "I saw the report. Omsk 45. An old Soviet black site. Wiped off the map. You're saying this wasn't the Russians?"
"I'm saying the Russians were the victims," Mallory corrected. She nodded toward the folder. "Open it."
Singer opened the folder. Inside was a series of photographs. They were low resolution shots taken from a variety of sources.
A street corner CCTV camera in Moscow, a customs checkpoint at JFK and finally, a cell phone video still from a parking garage in Newark, New Jersey.
Singer stared at the photographs, his eyes widening slowly. "Is this a joke, Grace?"
"No joke, Bob," Mallory said.
Raynor leaned over, looking at the photos. She gasped. "That's... that's impossible."
"I am looking at a man who has been dead since 1984," General Higgins said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. He picked up the photo from the Newark parking garage. It clearly showed a man in a dark green tactical suit holding an eagle embossed brass shield. He was standing over a pile of bloody rubble.
"Soldier Boy," Singer breathed, leaning back in his chair as if the photograph itself might bite him. "Vought said he died stopping a nuclear meltdown in Ohio."
"Vought lied," Mallory stated flatly. "I dug into classified CIA archives from the Cold War era. Deep cover intercepts from Operation Chariot. He was captured by the Russians or sold to them. They kept him on ice for nearly forty years."
"And now he's out," Higgins said, tracing the edge of the shield in the photo. "He survived a Russian black site, walked through customs and executed a Vought asset in a public parking garage in New Jersey."
"Gunpowder," Raynor identified the victim. "Found dead yesterday. Vought's PR machine is spinning it as a gas main explosion, but the local PD reports indicate blunt force trauma consistent with a blunt object."
"He's hunting his old team," Mallory said. "Yesterday, local authorities in Vermont responded to an explosion at the 'Chimp Sanctuary' run by Crimson Countess. Found a charred smear that matched her DNA."
PS: Here we go guys, the first bonus chapter of this week on Monday, haha. We need 90 more Power Stones for the next bonus chapter. Come on, this novel is almost finished, let's try to complete it this month.