Kevin stretched out on the sofa. He finally had the television to himself. Ally was at school, Fisher was jogging somewhere, Mosley was napping and Blackbird was on patrol.
Kevin switched the game on and grabbed his bag of chips. As he opened it, the door opened behind him. In stepped The Blackbird, followed closely by…
“Oh my god!” Kevin said, leaping from the sofa. “You’re… You’re…”
“Ralph Davis. The original Blackbird, yes.” The Blackbird’s guest said.
“Oh my god. I can’t believe it…” Kevin trailed off.
Ralph smiled. “I’m honoured. Uncle Sam said you had a similar reaction when you met him.” The retired hero said.
“Y-y-yes sir.” Kevin stammered. “Greatest day of my life. No offense sir, but I did get to fight alongside him. This is a close second though.”
“I remember what it was like fighting next to Sam, I understand completely.” Ralph nodded.
“Better not let Katie hear you saying that that’s the greatest day of your life, she’ll get jealous.” Mosley was standing in the doorway.
“You know what I meant…” Kevin said.
“Sure I did. Meeting some old dude is more important that meeting your girlfriend. More important than your first kiss, the day you told her you loved her, the night you first f-“
“Shut up Mosley.” Kevin said.
“Mosley?” Ralph asked. “Not James’ son?”
Mosley scowled. “No. I’m not.”
“Oh. I just assumed…” Ralph said.
“Well, you made an ass of yourself, didn’t you?” Mosley said.
“Ben, watch your mouth.” Blackbird warned.
“And who the hell do you think you’re talking to newbie?” Mosley asked. “You know what? Screw this!”
And with that, the second-generation superhero stormed out of the building, wishing he could slam the doors behind him.
“His dad’s a touchy subject.” Blackbird explained.
“So he is James’ son?” Ralph asked.
“Yeah. He’s not the same man you remember, by all accounts.” Blackbird said.
“I met with him a few weeks ago, he seemed the same to me.” Ralph said.
“Ben hasn’t been home in months, he’s been here the whole time. Napalm has been working, doing the hero thing. Getting back to the way things were before Ben came along… Before…” Blackbird trailed off.
“Before Jacquelyn died giving birth to Ben… Of course.” Ralph nodded solemnly.
“He took it out on Mosley.” Kevin added. “A lot. We’re pretty sure that’s why he’s the way he is. He was a drunk, and he hit his son. I know we don’t get along at all, but that’s still unforgiveable.”
“Of course. I can’t believe he would do something like that.” Ralph said.
“I’ve seen him abuse him verbally, and I’ve seen him try to pick a fight. It’s true.” Kevin said.
“I’m not doubting you son, it’s just hard to process.” Ralph said.
“His history, and resulting personality aside, Mosley is a good man.” Blackbird said. “He’s good in a fight, and he knows what’s right. He’s a hero, as much as you or I.”
Kevin nodded in agreement. “We’re not exactly friends, but he’s right. He’s infuriating, but he’s good underneath it all.”
“So was his father…” Ralph said.
<><><>
Mosley paced in the elevator. What was he doing here? What right did The Blackbird have to bring his predecessor into the penthouse? And who did he think he was, calling out Mosley on his language in his own home?
In fact, just who the hell was that guy?
Sure, he was more than useful in a fight, but he was hardly a part of the team. They didn’t know who he was, and he had this habit of disappearing and reappearing that just got on Mosley’s nerves.
And now he was just bringing the original Blackbird into the penthouse? Anyone of his teammates, or The Shadow or even D13 would have known that it was probably a bad idea to bring his father’s ex-partner anywhere near him, or would at least have had the sense to ask first.
The elevator opened, and Mosley slipped out into the parking lot, before hopping on his motorcycle and getting the hell out of there.
<><><>
“You know, Mr Universe is going to be pretty jealous. He idolises you.” Kevin said.
“Yes, I would have liked to meet him. Talon speaks pretty highly of him. He could be in line for membership in The Boomers.” Ralph said.
Kevin’s eyes went wide. “Wow. That would be… Wow.”
“Don’t tell him, they’re trialling him out. They’re going to need the power upgrade soon, they don’t know how long Thunderbolt is going to be staying with them.” Ralph explained.
“Yeah, I remember them saying he was only temporary. Matt would flip if he found out. Who else are they trialling?” Kevin asked.
“I’m not really supposed to say anything, but they’re basically looking at everyone on the East Coast who isn’t currently attached to a team, and even a few who are. I suggested they cast a wider net, look into Europe, but I’m not sure Talon’s listening…” Ralph said.
“Some of the greatest Boomers have been internationals. Southern Cross, Renaissance and Hercules for god’s sake.” Blackbird said. “With the resources the Boomers have, Talon shouldn’t be afraid to look abroad.”
“Listen to him, he’s been a pro for a few months, and he thinks he knows everything. Looks like we need to go have a chat. It was a pleasure Mr Perfect.” Ralph said.
“Of course sir.” Kevin said.
<><><>
Mosley rode his bike through the city, still fuming over the two Blackbirds. The last thing he needed was a reminder of his father. After everything that bastard had done to him, he just wanted to forget.
He wanted to forget his father, he wanted to forget the abuse, and he wanted to move on. But the world just seemed to want to force him to keep dwelling.
The last thing he wanted to do was be like his father. But here he was, teaming up with The Blackbird.
Mosley pushed the thoughts out of his head and sped up, leaving the city behind him.

Mosley was digging through his room; the pile of clothes on his room had reached maximum density. He had no idea where his phone was, and it was buzzing non-stop.
“Goddamn it, where is it?… got to be here some- There!” He exclaimed, as he picked up the phone. Hiddne number. Great.
“Who is this?” He demanded, as he answered the phone.
“You know who this is Firestorm.” The voice on the other side was obviously distorted by a machine of some description.
“The Man in Black? How did you get this number?” Mosley asked.
“Is that what you’re calling me?” The Man in Black laughed. “Listen, the Black Dragon Fist have another enclave in Los Angeles, they’ve stored the instructions to the sea demon summoning ritual there. We need to destroy it.”
Mosley nodded along. “Go on…”
<><><>
“This doesn’t seem right.” Mr Perfect said, looking around. “He said to meet him here?”
“Yes. We’re a couple of minutes early.” Firestorm replied. “The Man in Black said it was far enough away from the enclave that they wouldn’t know we were here.”
“And we don’t think this is a trap… Why?” Fissure asked.
“Because if the Black Dragon Fist knew how to contact me, they’d just attack me anywhere.” Firestorm said. “They wouldn’t bother calling me out.”
“Unless they wanted us all together.” Pixel murmured.
“If they’d tracked Firestorm down, they’d have tracked the rest of you.”
The team turned around and found the Man in Black standing behind them.
“Look, not to be rude, but who are you? We can’t keep working together if we don’t know who you are.” Mr Perfect said.
“We’ve worked well together in the past.” The dark stranger replied.
“Sir, I think it’s about time you told them. The only reason they haven’t figured it out is because Mr Universe isn’t here. He’d have had it in seconds.” Fissure said.
“Wait, you know who he is?” Firestorm asked.
“Of course. I’ve just kept quiet out of respect for the man he will become.” Fissure said. “If I thought he was a threat, you’d know.”
“The man I will become?” The Masked Man said.
“He’s from the future.” Pixel shrugged.
“Wait, what?” Ice Princess asked.
“Long story.” Pixel said.
“Still doesn’t answer my question.” Mr Perfect said.
The Man in Black shrugged. “Well, if Fissure knows, I guess it’s inevitable.” He paused, seemingly weighing his options. “Look, it’s also a long story, but suffice to say… I’m the new Blackbird.”
“… No way.” Mr Perfect said.
“It’s true.” Fissure confirmed.
“There’s absolutely no way. Do you have permission?” Mr Perfect asked.
“Where else do you think I got the costume? Beaked helmets and bird-shaped shuriken don’t just grow on trees. I’m the real deal. He picked me.” The Blackbird said.
Mr Perfect glanced at Fissure, who nodded. “Fine. Sorry, I guess. So what’s the plan?”
“I’m glad you asked.” The Blackbird’s smile was visible beneath his cowl.
<><><>
“Ok, Blackbird, you’re on our frequency?” Mr Perfect asked.
“Yeah. Are you ready? Got the plan down?” Blackbird asked.
“Of course.” Mr Perfect said, as the rest of his teammates voiced their agreement.
“Alright then. Let’s do this.” Blackbird said.
“Hey, that’s a team catchphrase.” Mr Perfect said.
“I know… Focus.” Blackbird said, as he cut the power to the building.
The Brats closed their eyes, as Firestorm broke through the window and engulfed the room in a fireball, blinding the ninjas, before Blackbird threw in a pair of magnesium flares, dimly lighting the room for the rest of the team, who had time to adjust their eyes.
The Brats took full advantage of the ninjas’ predicament, combining all their powers to make short work of the gathered ninjas. The ninjas could barely react, and by the time they could see again, the Brats already had the upper hand well and truly.
“Well that was easy.” Firestorm said.
“We won!” Pixel and Ice Princess both said.
“There is no way we just did that so quickly.” Mr Perfect said.
“We had a plan.” Fissure said.
“We had someone who knew what he was getting into.” Firestorm added.
“It was like Mr Universe was back.” Pixel said; a note of sadness in her voice.
“Hey, I don’t suppose you want to join up full time? I mean, I know the Blackbird is kind of a solo act, but he started the Boomers, and worked with them until he retired…” Mr Perfect trailed off.
Blackbird smiled. “How about we find that damn scroll first.”
“Or we could just torch the place…” Firestorm suggested.
“We don’t know what else is here, there could be an explosion, or worse.” Blackbird said.
“Doesn’t matter, you guys get out now, I’m impervious to fire.” Firestorm said, as the flames around him intensified.
Blackbird laughed. “But what about debris? Or collapsing buildings? Are you impervious to those?”
“Oh yeah…” Firestorm said. “Let’s find it then…”
“Found a vault.” Fissure said, his eyes closed as he reached his powers outwards, feeling through all the bricks, mortar and concrete that comprised the building they were in.
“Are you sure?” Mr Perfect asked.
“Sure. Double thick concrete around what feels like solid steel. Sounds right to me. Behind that wall.” Fissure pointed, as the wall opened up, revealing a giant steel door.
“Good thing we brought a blowtorch.” Pixel said, to a scowl from Firestorm.
<><><>
Daytripper appeared in his boss’ office.
“Sir, the Brats have destroyed the last enclave.” Daytripper said. “It’s over.”
Carmichael started laughing. “Everything went to plan.”
“But sir, I thought you wanted the Black Dragon Fist to eliminate the Brats, not the other way around.” Daytripper sounded confused.
“I created a no-lose scenario. Best case scenario, they eliminate each other. Next best, either the Brats are destroyed, or the Black Dragon Fist are out of Los Angeles, my biggest rivals as Giovanni Bianchi are eliminated, and Mr Perfect has received his final strike on his record for the Dragon. The Black Dragon Fist clan will demand his blood. I win again.” Carmichael explained.
“Of course sir, I should never have doubted you.” Daytripper said, bowing his head.
“No, you shouldn’t have. They didn’t call me ‘The Napolean of Crime’ for nothing. I am the greatest strategist and most brilliant mind in the world. I do not lose.” Carmichael said, as his face began to slip to its natural form, his hairline receding and face wrinkling.
“Sir…” Daytripper said, and Carmichael reformed his face. “One more thing… Ralph Davis held a press conference… It’s official. The boy is the new Blackbird.”
Carmichael’s scowl was enough to tell Daytripper it was time to leave, as he disappeared.
<><><>
Kevin left his bedroom at the penthouse and headed for the kitchen. It was time for breakfast, before his flight to college.
He almost jumped out of his skin when he found the Blackbird waiting for him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” He asked.
“Your security system needs work.” Blackbird said. “Or is that ‘our’ security system? I trust your offer still stands?”
Kevin nodded. “Welcome aboard.”

“Senpai, all has been prepared for the ritual.” The lead magician said, bowing towards his master.
“Excellent work.” The enclave master said. “Our clan’s master will be freed at dawn. Begin the summoning.”
“At once senpai.” The magician bowed again, stepping out of the study.
The enclave master smiled. For too long, their one true master had been trapped in the America-jin’s prison, the victim of both the accursed Uncle Sam and the youthful Mr Perfect.
The other elders had tried to replace the missing power. Tried to replace the master’s skill and magic with technology. They went against the very nature of the traditions.
No more. Tomorrow, the master would be free, and the natural order would be restored.
And then no-one would be able to stop the Black Dragon Fist.
<><><>
“We should have let a billionaire join us years ago.” Ally said, as she stretched out on the sofa, in front of the 72-inch television in the living room.
“Amen.” Mosley agreed, leaping onto the next sofa and grabbing the remote.
“I have the next episode of True Blood on the TiVo.” Ally said.
“Oooor we could watch anything else.” Mosley said.
“I thought you’d love True Blood, you know how many boobs they show per episode?” Ally asked.
“I have the internet, I don’t have to watch some show about gay vampires to see boobs.” Mosley said.
“Did you TiVo True Blood?” Verona walked in. “I totally hooked up with the guy who plays Eric.”
“Ha! Two against one!” Ally shouted.
“Too bad I have the remote.” Mosley switched the TV on and groaned.
“Well, looks like that argument is going to have to wait.” Ally said.
“This is Fisher’s fault, he’s the only one who watches CNN.” Mosley added.
On the screen, there was footage of a hundred-foot long serpent swimming through the Atlantic, towards San Francisco Bay, leaving a wake of thick, black oil behind it.
“We’d best go stop it before we end up with the next Gulf Spill in the middle of San Francisco.” Ally said. “Let’s suit up.”
<><><>
“Ok James, what do you have on this thing?” Mr Perfect asked, as he flew a wide circle around the oncoming serpent.
“As far as my research can tell, this thing is a Japanese water-demon. Ikuchi. I don’t know about any weaknesses, I just know it’s huge, strong and it’s leaking oil all over the ocean.” James buzzed back through the communicator.
“Do we know where it’s heading?” Fissure’s voice buzzed.
“That’s the biggest problem… It’s moving in a straight line… To Alcatraz.” James said.
“Ok Brats, we can’t let it make it there. Hell, we can’t let it near the Golden Gate Bridge.” Mr Perfect said.
“The police have blocked off the bridge, most of you can’t fly, so that’s probably the best place to fight from.” James said.
“Ok, tell the pilot to put them down on the north end of the bridge.” Mr Perfect said.
“You got it sir.” James said.
“Fissure and Firestorm, you guys will be hitting it with everything you can. Fissure, hit him in the eyes, keep him blinded. Firestorm, with any luck it will be opening its mouth, and that’s when you hit. With all the oil it’s leaking, hopefully it will catch alight. Ice Princess, start freezing the water on the other side of the bridge. We need a barrier. Pixel, I want you ready to teleport them out of there if it even looks like it’s going to hit the bridge, you got it?”
The team all responded in agreeance.
“Ok Brats, I’m going to hit it now while you get into place. Let’s do this.” Mr Perfect said, as he became a blur, flying directly at the serpent. He braced himself, as he crashed directly into its body. The beast roared in pain, and immediately stopped in its tracks.
“Didn’t like that, did you?” Mr Perfect taunted.
The monster roared, coating the young hero in a thick film of oil.
<><><>
“Oh damn! That must suck!” Firestorm shouted with glee, as he watched Mr Perfect drop from the sky, completely covered in oil.
“And his costume is white. That was a really bad idea.” Ice Princess agreed.
“We need to get onto the bridge.” Fissure reminded his teammates.
“Uhhh… Guys?” Pixel said.
“What?” The team turned to see the dozens of ninjas blocking their path.
“Oh for the love of…” Firestorm said.
<><><>
Mr Perfect flew back into the air, the seawater washing the oil from his body, allowing him full mobility again.
“That wasn’t very nice.” He said, as he dodged the next geyser of oil. “Haven’t you heard of Exxon Valdez?”
The hero moved in and punched the monster square in the jaw, causing it to scream again, but it showed no sign of any real damage.
“Uhh, guys, I could really use that backup right about now…”Mr Perfect said into his communicator.
“We’re a little tied up down here.” Firestorm buzzed back.
“What?” Mr Perfect asked, as he ducked out of the way of the monster’s jaws.
“Ninjas. Again.” Fissure explained.
“Exactly what I needed.” Mr Perfect said, as he flew in for another attack.
<><><>
“He complains like he’s the one who has to fight the ninjas.” Firestorm said, as he lit another one of their foes on fire.
“He is fighting a sea monster alone.” Pixel said.
“There’s too many of them!” Ice Princess shouted.
It was at that point that the dark shape descended from the sky, and the Man In Black touched down, hitting a dozen ninjas with stun grenades, dispatching another two with swift roundhouse kicks.
“Go! I’ll handle them!” He shouted.
Firestorm hesitated for a moment. “GO!” The Man In Black ordered, and Firestorm nodded, running along the bridge.
“Pixel, Ice Princess, stay and help with the ninjas. Fissure and I will save Jockstrap.” Firestorm ordered.
“Are you sure?” Pixel asked.
Firestorm grinned. “Damn right I am.”
<><><>
Mr Perfect was beginning to feel the strain, taking blow after blow from the demon was taking its toll. Suddenly the beast lunged forward, and he didn’t dodge in time.
He was in the beast’s jaws, barely managing to keep its mouth open wide enough to stop himself from being crushed.
As he began to falter, the beast roared, a shower of asphalt hitting it directly in the face. Mr Perfect took the opportunity to fly out of its mouth.
“It’s about time you guys turned up.” Mr Perfect said.
“The Man in Black turned up.” Firestorm said. “You’re welcome by the way.”
“You haven’t done anything yet.” Mr Perfect retorted.
“Oh yeah?” Firestorm asked, as the sea serpent blasted oil at the two Brats on the bridge. “Fissure, shield yourself!”
The road around them moved to surround Fissure instantaneously, as Firestorm ignited the stream of oil.
The flames engulfed the monster, forcing it to dive under the water to extinguish itself. It didn’t resurface.
“So… That’s it?” Mr Perfect asked.
“Damn right that’s it. That’s why you don’t mess with Firestorm!” Firestorm gloated.
“I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?” Mr Perfect asked.
“Probably not. Let’s go finish off the ninjas.” Fissure said.
But, naturally, the ninjas were finished with too, and the Man in Black was nowhere to be found.
“One of these days, we’re going to find out who he is.” Mr Perfect said.
“Yeah. One of these days.” Firestorm muttered.

“So, if you guys decide to let me join, this whole floor is ours.” Verona said, as the other Brats looked on in awe.
“This place is…” Kevin trailed off.
“I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘EPIC’!” Ally exclaimed, gaping at the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out on Los Angeles from around 70 storeys up.
“We’ve got basement space reserved for vehicles, a private elevator, a Blackhawk helicopter with a pilot on call, some kind of supercomputer, a fully equipped gym, a hot tub-“ Verona paused to wink at Kevin. “- and not to mention full bedroom and bathroom facilities for all of us.”
“Verona… You can’t just buy a spot on our team. Just because you’ve got all this cool stuff doesn’t mean we’re going to let you join.” Kevin said.
“I don’t know… She’s got the moves, she’s got the gear, she’s got the bod…” Mosley paused to eye Verona up and down, much to her disgust. “She’s got my vote.”
“This is pretty cool.” Ally added. “I mean, look at this place!” Ally went on to demonstrate the size of the main common area, performing at least ten cartwheels in a row, and still not reaching the far window.
“These facilities do provide us with a distinct advantage that the mansion lacks.” Fisher agreed. “Not to mention, with training, the Ice Queen will be quite the formidable fighter.”
“Princess. Ice Princess.” Verona corrected.
“Of course…” Fisher said.
“Well, looks like the votes are in. I’ll make it unanimous, I suppose. Welcome to the team.” Kevin said, extending a hand.
Verona ignored it, instead charging forward for a hug, squealing.
“I didn’t even tell you the best part!” Verona said, after recovering her composure. “JAMES!” She shouted.
A door to the left hissed open, and a man in his thirties stepped through, wearing the latest in Italian suits.
“We get a butler!?” Ally exclaimed.
James scowled. “No. Verona’s father has hired me to act as your assistant in any way possible.”
“So you’re a butler.” Mosley scoffed.
“No. Watch and learn.” James said. “Computer. Load file ‘BlackDragonFist091’.”
“Loading…” An electronic voice buzzed, as the floor opened up in front of the Brats.
Light streamed out of the floor, forming a hologram of a folder directly in front of James.
James reached out and touched the folder, causing the contents to spill out across the hologram, before selecting one of the files within.
“Coooool.” Ally said.
“As you can see here, the Black Dragon Fist have made their presence known to the financial elite of this city.” James said, pointing out what appeared to be a business card for ‘BDF Security’. “Corporate sabotage, protection, even sabotage… They do it all.”
“And they have business cards? With their address on them?” Mosley scoffed.
“The address is a fake. The number leads to a disposable cell phone.” James explained.
“So we have nothing?” Kevin asked.
“Not necessarily… I pulled some strings, got a trace…” James said, closing the business card file, and opening another file, this one displaying a map of Downtown LA.
“The cell phone was within this four-block radius.” James said. “We couldn’t trace it any further, it just happens to be one of the highest-concentrated areas of cell phone coverage in the city.”
“Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us.” Kevin said. “Time to suit up and find those ninjas.”
<><><>
Mr Perfect sighed as he soared through the air. He placed a hand on his new communicator. “Remember the good old days, when Belle would do a psychic scan, and we’d find everyone I wanted to?”
“It’s been half an hour; you’re not going to find anything.” Firestorm replied.
“If Matt was up here we’d have found them twenty-five minutes ago.” Mr Perfect said.
“And he’d have reminded you to use codenames.” Pixel said.
<><><>
The Man In Black was regretting his decision to attack the Black Dragon Fist enclave alone. They outnumbered him at least twenty-to-one. He had faced worse odds, but these cyborg-ninjas were among his most powerful foes.
Still, they were a plague on his city, and his mentor’s greatest enemies. He had to fight them.
Still, it would have made sense to try to contact the Brat Pack. He couldn’t win the fight alone.
A well-placed series of jabs to his abdomen left him cringing on the ground, as another ninja mounted him, pummelling at his face.
As he stared up at the ninja, and his certain defeat, he noticed the heavily windows that surrounded the top of the building. He also noticed the red and white blur that was blazing past it. Mr Perfect.
At that, he smiled, firing a flash-bang from his wrist-launcher, through the window, using the non-lethal weapon as a signal flare.
Within moments, Mr Perfect was by his side, lifting the ninja off him and tossing it into a crowd of their opponents.
“Looks like I got here just in time.” Mr Perfect said.
Before the ninjas could fight back, the rest of the Brat Pack oozed out of the walls.
“Who knew Fissure could use bricks for his terraportation?” Pixel asked.
“We need to stop letting you name powers.” Firestorm said.
“But it was clever.” Pixel argued.
“Uh, guys…? Ninjas, remember?” Mr Perfect said.
“Oh, right.” Pixel said. “Let’s do this.” The young heroine fired her flares at the nearest ninja, leaving him stunned, before teleporting up to him, and teleporting away with him in her grip.
Meanwhile, the Man in Black was back on his feet, and taking on a pair of ninjas single-handedly, while Mr Perfect wrestled a trio right next to him.
Firestorm and Ice Princess stood back-to-back, using their elemental control powers to freeze and heat up the ninjas, leaving their cybernetic implants brittle, and easily broken by the cloud of debris Fissure was forming in the air around them.
“See, this is how we would have gone in if the nerd was around. With a plan. Let’s see the ninjas adapt to this.” Firestorm said, as dozens of ninjas dropped to the ground, clutching the wounds where their artificial improvements had once been.
“I must admit, this is quite the strategy. I must admit Verona, your father’s men have done their research.” Fissure said.
“Codenames.” Ice Princess reminded. “And yes, they’re quite good at their jobs, aren’t they?”
“Does her codename really matter if her identity is known publicly?” Pixel asked, having reappeared moments earlier.
“It’s about being a professional.” Ice Princess argued.
“Hey, we’ve all seen the tape of you in St Tropez; you’re hardly one to talk about professionalism.” Firestorm said.
“I was drunk, and it was really hot. It’s not like I needed that many layers of clothing on.” Ice Princess said, as she stopped fighting.
“So you went with ‘none’?” Pixel asked. “Yeah, I’ve seen it too.” She added, after receiving stares from all her teammates.
“There are so many things wrong with the picture in my head right now.” Firestorm said.
“EWWWW!” Ice Princess and Pixel said, as they both proceeded to slap their teammate.
“Guys. Ninjas.” Mr Perfect said, as he knocked yet another ninja unconscious.
“Pretty sure that was the last one.” Firestorm pointed out.
“Hey, where’d the Man in Black go?” Pixel asked.
“Oh, son of a…” Mr Perfect said.

Mosley groaned as he stretched out on the sofa. “I’m sick of us getting our asses kicked. Who knew the nerd was actually useful?”
“Pretty sure Matt was the strongest one on the team, remember?” Ally said, as she slumped down on the other sofa.
“Whatever.” Mosley said.
“Aww, you’re just grumpy because Tag Team hit you with that high-low move.” Ally grinned impishly, as Mosley shot her a glare.
“How was I supposed to know he could split into two? There was no nerd-o-pedia to tell me his powers. If Jockstrap had done some prepwork like a real leader, I would have smoked that guy.” Mosley said.
“My ears are burning.” Kevin said, as he sat down on the arm of Ally’s seat.
“That could be arranged.” Mosley said.
“He’s still got his panties in a twist after the Tag Team incident this afternoon?” Kevin asked.
“Yep. He thinks it’s your fault.” Ally said.
“It is. You had us going in there blind.” Mosley said.
“Oh, doesn’t the internet in your room work? Or on your phone?” Kevin asked.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m not supposed to be the leader here, am I?” Mosley asked, as he sat up to face Kevin properly.
The two boys didn’t even notice the ringing doorbell. “I’ll get it. You keep fighting.” Ally said, as she teleported away.
“Matt was never the leader, he was the brains. He was prepared. Now we need to survive without him.” Kevin said.
“So we’re just going to be rushing headlong into battle instead?” Mosley asked.
“You’re one to talk about rushing into battle.” Kevin said.
Mosley stood up and crossed the gap between the two. “I don’t put the others in danger when I do it. These guys follow your orders. You’re sending us in there without a plan. It’s insane.”
“And you would do any better?” Kevin stood up too, not intimidated by the slightly smaller teen.
“Damn right I would.” Mosley said.
Fisher came down the stairs. “Who’s at the door?” He asked, but was ignored.
“Oh yeah? And what would you do differently?” Kevin asked.
“Prepare for one. Google the guys we’re going up against. Fisher led the Brat Pack in the future, so I’d ask him about tactics.” Mosley said.
“Leave me out of this.” Fisher said, as he crossed the room and went through to the entrance hall.
“It wouldn’t matter. Without Matt’s firepower and his brains, we’re at a disadvantage. And losing Katie certainly doesn’t help.” Kevin said.
“Damn right it doesn’t help. Face it, without those two, you can’t lead. You’re useless. You may as well have followed Katie to Brown, because you’d do us as much good over there.” Mosley said.
“If I’m so bad, why don’t you leave? Why don’t you go to the East Coast?” Kevin asked.
“Oh yeah, your girlfriend would love to bunk with me, wouldn’t she?” Mosley taunted.
Kevin’s jaw set and his eyes narrowed. “Get out.” He said slowly.
“Last time I checked, this house belongs to Katie. And I know she’d never kick me out. I bet she wouldn’t kick me out of bed either.” Mosley smirked.
Kevin clenched his fist. “Get out before I throw you out.”
“You’re getting good at driving people out of your life, aren’t you?” Mosley said.
Kevin raised his fist, and Mosley flinched. “You’re not worth it.” Kevin shook his head and dropped his fist, before turning away.
“Don’t turn your back on me.” Mosley said. “I’m not finished.”
Kevin ignored him, walking through to the entrance hall.
“LOOK AT ME YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Mosley screamed.
Kevin turned back and saw the sparks flying from Mosley’s body. “Get a grip on yourself before you burn Katie’s house down.” Kevin said, before exiting into the next room.
“Wow. What’s his problem?”
Kevin looked at their visitor. The girl was around their age, with long blonde hair, and deep brown eyes. She was very attractive, not a hair out of place and makeup perfectly applied. Her costume left little to the imagination, the form-fitting white leotard showed generous amounts of leg, the baby blue trim cutting the costume off at mid-thigh. Strangely enough, she was not wearing a mask with her costume.
“I know you from somewhere…” Kevin said.
“And it hits him in three… two…” Ally muttered.
“You’re Verona Mitchell!” Kevin exclaimed, as realisation dawned. “But what are you doing here?”
Verona giggled. “Actually, I go by Ice Princess now. After that whole thing with my brother, daddy decided I should clear the family name. So I tried to be a superhero, but I’m not very good-“
The conversation was cut off by the sound of a motorcycle revving loudly, as Mosley rode out the driveway.
“So you’re here for tips?” Kevin asked.
“No. I’m here to join up!” Ice Princess bounced.
“You did just say you weren’t very good.” Kevin said.
“I just need practice. With you guys around, I’m sure I’ll get good in no time!” Ice Princess said.
“I don’t know…” Kevin said.
“Please please please! I can pay you guys! And we have heaps of cool stuff like cars and motorbikes and jetskis that we can give you!”
“But what can you do?”
“Oh duh… I freeze stuff. That’s why I’m the Ice Princess.”
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to give you a trial run… Assuming the others don’t object.” Kevin turned to his two teammates.
“Yay! Score one for oestrogen!” Ally shouted, as Fisher shrugged.
<><><>
Mosley mumbled obscenities under his breath as he overtook the traffic all the way along the PCH, bringing his speed up to around 70 mph. What right did Kevin have to speak to him like that? To treat him like he was nothing? He had every right to just let him burn.
And the others just walked out on him like that? Just let Kevin keep fighting, even though he was in the wrong? Were those his friends?
Ahead on the road there was a crash, as a semi-trailer overturned. Mosley caught up to the crash, looking to help anyone who was hurt. It was then that he saw the black figures swarming all over the truck.
Ninjas.
“Oh crap…” Mosley muttered. “I really liked this flannel.” With that, he burst into flames, covering his identity within the raging inferno.
“Ok boys! Who wants to be vented on first?” Firestorm shouted, cracking his knuckles.
As one, the horde of ninjas looked up at him. Wordlessly, three of them peeled away from the group, surrounding the young hero.
“Ninjas can’t catch you if you’re FIRESTORM!” Firestorm howled, as he expanded the range of his flames, in order to engulf the ninjas, who simply flipped out of the way.
As the flames died down, all the ninjas moved forward in perfect unison, and Firestorm found himself being punched in three places at once. Within moments, he was on the ground, unconscious.
He woke up with his motorcycle helmet on his head.
“What the hell?” He asked, as he sat up.
“Oh good, you’re awake. We couldn’t find your mask.” Pixel said, as she teleported circles around a ninja.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’d gone into this battle unprepared.” Mr Perfect added, as he narrowly dodged a ninja’s strike, using his super speed, before using the same super-speed to land a super-strong blow to the ninja’s skull, sending it tumbling through the air and crashing to the ground.
“Conservation of Ninjutsu. The more ninjas there are, the less effective they are.” Firestorm shrugged.
“Works in the movies, dumbass. I’ve fought these guys before.” Mr Perfect said, as he blocked another blow. “Wow, that hurt.” He said, before kicking the ninja in the shin. The ninja didn’t even flinch, but then Mr Perfect tossed him into the air. “They’re bad news. Plus, they’ve had upgrades. We heard you were fighting them on the police radio, so we Googled them. Apparently they’re all cybernetically enhanced now.”
“Are these those Black Dragon Fist guys you fought in Vegas?” Firestorm asked, as he began shooting fireballs at the assembled ninjas.
“Yeah, but they’re stronger now, faster, and probably have some kind of mental connection. Like I said: Better.” Mr Perfect said.
“So long as I don’t let them near me, I’ll be fine.” Firestorm said, continuing his assault.
“It’s not that easy.” Mr Perfect pointed at the ninjas, who were flipping out of the way. “They learn. Quick. Use a trick to beat one, the rest will be ready for it.”
“Unless you use a trick they can’t beat.”
Firestorm had to duck, as a frozen ninja sailed through the air, obviously aiming at his position.
“What the hell?” Firestorm asked.
“Oh, right. Firestorm, meet Ice Princess.” Mr Perfect said. “We recruited her while you were off having your tantrum.”
“Do you really want to start that again?” Firestorm asked, as a cloud of fire caught a pair of ninjas.
“Not right now, no.” Mr Perfect tossed another ninja into an incoming pair. “We’re kind of busy.”
“Not to mention how childish it is.” Fissure added, as he encased another ninja in stone.
“These ninjas just don’t stop coming!” Pixel shouted, barely teleporting out of the path of a shuriken.
“We are severely outnumbered, I’m not sure how much longer we can keep this up.” Fissure added, as the heroes converged on one spot, standing back to back, as the ninjas advanced.
“They’re ducking all my attacks.” Firestorm said.
“Mine too.” Fissure said, as a ninja leaped out of the reach of his geokinesis.
“We may be out of our league… I mean, ninjas are one thing, but robot ninjas?” Ice Princess said.
“Guys, we can do this. Focus.” Mr Perfect said.
“Oh shove it. Fissure, let’s get out of here.” Firestorm said.
“I can ‘port us all out of here.” Fissure agreed.
“No! We don’t retreat!” Mr Perfect said.
“Kevin, face it: We’re not as good as we were. We need to retreat you jackass!” Firestorm said.
“You’re the one who got us into this! And codenames!” Mr Perfect shouted.
“You’re as bad as each other. We need a decision.” Fissure said. “Retreat, or fight to the death?”
“Fight. Always stay and fight.” Mr Perfect said.
Fissure sighed. “Yes sir.”
The heroes braced themselves for the worst, as the ninjas approached.
Suddenly there was an explosion to one side, scattering the ninjas, as on the other side, a net appeared over the top of another half dozen ninjas.
“What the-?” Firestorm asked.
“Capitalize! Get them!” Mr Perfect ordered, and the Brat Pack charged forward, unleashing all their power.
Moments later, they were joined by a caped figure in black, his face covered by a beak-shaped mask.
“Who the hell is this?” Firestorm asked. “Another newbie?”
“Beats me. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” Mr Perfect replied, as the masked stranger roundhouse kicked a pair of ninjas into next week.
As the combined superheroes combined to dispatch the rest of the ninjas, they discovered that the masked stranger had disappeared.
“To coin a phrase: Who was that masked man?” Pixel asked.
“What?” Ice Princess asked.
“Never mind.” Pixel sighed.

“I’m going to enjoy this.” Gauss said, as he levelled his spear at Mr Universe’s head.
The last thing Mr Universe saw was the spear racing towards his head, before he blacked out.
The spear shattered into a hundred pieces, as Mr Perfect rocketed through it.
“What!?” Gauss demanded.
“Sorry to ruin your fun, but the cavalry has arrived!” Firestorm shouted, as he blasted the villain with flames. Gauss barely reacted in time, shielding the blast with a car shell.
“You insolent fools. You think you stand a chance?” Gauss cackled.
“Pretty sure we can win. Again.” Mr Perfect replied, as he looped around to float directly in front of Gauss.
“Perhaps the banter can wait for another time?” Fissure said, as he reformed on the ground below.
“Like after we’ve taken his ass down.” Pixel said, appearing on a nearby rooftop.
“I’m gonna enjoy this.” Belle finished, as she unleashed her psychic scream.
“Girl, you are little more than an annoyance.” Gauss said, as one hand rubbed his temple. “I will destroy you all.”
“You call that annoying? Try this on for size!” Pixel blasted Gauss in the face with her flare.
“Insolent girl! I will finish what I started!” Gauss warned, as he found himself seeing spots, unable to see what was going on around him.
“We’ve learned too. No metal in our costumes.” Mr Perfect said, as he pounded Gauss in the gut, winding him and sending him tumbling towards the ground.
“And concrete doesn’t contain any iron.” Fissure added, as the sidewalk began to pound Gauss, breaking bones and leaving him bloodied.
“Let’s face it Gauss. You’re old news.” Mr Perfect said, as he raised his fist to lay the final blow.
His fist was stopped in midair, as a nearby parking meter wrapped itself around his forearm.
“You had your chance boy. Now it’s my turn.” Gauss said.
Mr Perfect felt his shoulder begin to separate, as he was dragged through the air by his trapped arm, colliding with the building Pixel stood atop. Pixel barely teleported out of her teammate’s path, instead perching herself on the next rooftop, where a satellite dish dislodged itself and cracked her across the back of the head, knocking her unconscious.
“That girl complicates matters. The rest of you will fall easily.” Gauss laughed.
“Not likely!” Firestorm launched a barrage of fireballs at Gauss, as Fissure followed up with a hail of gravel.
Gauss barely even flinched, as a barrier of scrap metal formed around him, shielding him from the attacks. “Fools.”
The ground sundered below the heroes, as water pipes broke and doused Firestorm with water, before tearing free from the ground and wrapping Firestorm and Fissure up, lifting them from the ground, and squeezing tightly.
“Now… Who am I going to kill first?” The glee in Gauss’ face disappeared, as the loose change from the broken parking meter began to circle him.
“I think you should probably start what you finished with me.” Mr Universe said, struggling to his feet.
“YOU!?” Gauss demanded.
“Yeah. Me.” Mr Universe said, as he began pelting Gauss with quarters and dimes.
“This ends now.” Gauss said.
“For once I agree with you. It is over.” Mr Universe said.
“What?” Gauss asked.
“I knew you’d underestimate me. I’m putting all my abilities into hitting you, aren’t I?” Mr Universe laughed. “Wrong. This is just the distraction.”
Gauss didn’t get time to react, as Mr Perfect streaked towards him, clotheslining the villain, knocking him unconscious.
Moments later, Mr Universe blacked out again.
<><><>
Ally banged on the bathroom door. “Come on Katie! I just need to grab one head band!”
“No. Just wait, I won’t be long.” Katie’s voice was muffled.
“No! I want it now!” Ally pouted.
“Ten minutes, that’s all I ask.” Katie shouted back.
“Nope. I’m ‘porting in now.” Ally said.
“What? Ally no!” Katie said.
Ally ignored her, instead appearing just inside the bathroom. “Don’t worry, I won’t see anything. That’s why you ordered the tinted glass.” Ally said.
“It’s not that…” Katie said.
“Then what’s the problem?” Ally asked, as she checked her headband in the mirror.
“I’m not the only one in here.” Katie said.
“Huh? What are you… Oh… OH!” Ally took a moment to realise just what Katie meant. “Sorry Kev!” Ally said.
“Just get out.” Kevin said.
“You got it. Sorry.” Ally disappeared, blushing redder than her crimson socks.
She reappeared in the kitchen, where Matt and Fisher were waiting. “What happened to you?” Matt asked, seeing the look of mortification on Ally’s face.
“Uh… I ‘ported into the bathroom while Katie was in there, so I could get my headband…” Ally said.
“And what? You saw her?” Matt asked.
“In your dreams.” Ally smirked. “No… I didn’t see a thing… It just… Katie wasn’t the only one in there.”
“What? Oh. Ewww!” Matt said. “Not an image I needed. I have to use that shower sometimes you know?”
“That is particularly unsanitary.” Fisher agreed.
Mosley walked through the front door, pulling his mask off his face. “The press are seriously packed into the driveway.” He said. “Where’re Katie and Jockstrap?”
“In the shower.” Matt said.
Mosley paused for a moment, before scowling. “I hate couples.”
“Amen.” Ally said.
“So Katie calls me here for this dinner thing, and she’s not even ready when I get here?” Mosley complained.
“She’ll be down in a few minutes.” Ally said.
“Huh. I guess Kevin really is the fastest one on the team.” Matt grinned, as their leader and his best friend both walked down the stairs.
“Bite me. You’d be shocked how well the little brat kills the mood.” Kevin laughed, as he patted Ally on the head.
Mosley opened his mouth to say something, but a scowl from Katie stopped him. “So, pizza?” He asked instead.
“Works for me.” Katie said, as the rest of the team nodded in agreement.
“Can’t believe you guys leave tomorrow. It’s not fair!” Ally said.
“Sorry kiddo.” Matt said. “It’s complicated.”
“Tell me about it.” Kevin mumbled.
“How about we stop worrying about tomorrow and focus on what we’ve done.” Katie said. “This is our last dinner together in the house. We’re supposed to be having fun.”
“Ok then. Kevin can start. Tell us about the time you fought alongside Uncle Sam again.” Matt said.
“Uncle Sam?” Fisher asked.
“The original.” Kevin smiled. “It was over a year ago. Just before we met you. I was in Las Vegas for a basketball game…”

“Why would you do something like this?” Mr Universe asked, pointing at the pile of wrecked cars on the ground.
“Because I want you, Mr Universe.” Gauss cackled. “I want you to die.” The air buzzed with electromagnetic energy, as every unrestrained metal object sailed into the air around Gauss. “But most of all, I want you to suffer.”
“Well then?” Mr Universe said, as he cracked his knuckles. “Let’s do this.”
“You’re going to regret that.” Gauss said.
“You’re doing a lot of talking, but not a lot of fighting.” Mr Universe taunted.
“I didn’t say all this was for fighting.” Gauss laughed.
“What?” Mr Universe asked.
“No. I said I wanted to make you suffer. All this shrapnel, this isn’t for you.” Gauss said.
“Then what’s it for?” Mr Universe asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.
“Well, some of it’s for you. The rest… Well, you see the crowd gathering on the street, don’t you?” Gauss laughed, as Mr Universe’s eyes got wide. “And the people in the windows of all those buildings.” Gauss pointed at the windows lined with people. “You see, in a few seconds, all of this is going to be going everywhere.”
“You’re insane.” Mr Universe said, as he tried to figure out if he had the power to stop all of the debris from striking the onlookers.
“That’s the general consensus, but I beg to differ. My plan is completely sane. This is the best way to make you suffer. Their lives are your responsibility. They have faith in you. If you’re not strong enough, if you’re not fast enough, their blood is on your hands. I am going to break you before I’m done today boy.” Gauss said.
“Over my dead body.” Mr Universe said.
“That’s the plan.” Gauss cackled, as the metal exploded in every direction.
Mr Universe acted fast, using the brunt of his powers to catch the metal raining down on the crowd of panicked onlookers. At the same time he sent an electromagnetic wave through the shrapnel that was rushing to hit the occupants of the buildings, praying that it would slow it down enough that the glass windows would be able to stop it.
In the rush to protect the innocents, Mr Universe forgot to protect himself. He cringed, as he felt the metal pierce his left hand, before flying out the other side. He stumbled in midair, almost hitting the ground, before catching himself.
Before flying back up to Gauss’ level, he looked at the awestruck civilians. “Don’t just stand there you idiots. RUN!” He shouted. The crowd didn’t budge. “I’m not joking around. I don’t care if you all want to see this fight. You need to understand, I can’t win here. And that means he’s going to kill you all. The best I can do is buy you time. Get out of here.” Concern began to appear on the faces in the crowd. “I’m not going to be able to stop the next blast. RUN!”
Finally the crowd understood, and they began to disperse, as Mr Universe sailed back up, clutching his bleeding hand. “Now, where were we?”
“I believe I was ruining your life.” Gauss said. “Before ending it, of course.”
“Of course. You’re going to have to do more that stick metal through my hand. We folks of Jewish descent tend to be pretty resilient against stuff like that. Three days later, good as new.” Mr Universe said.
“Your arrogance never ends. First you start calling yourself the Master of Magnetism, you seek to usurp my legacy, and now you would compare yourself to the so-called Son of God? When I’m done, you’re going to wish I had just crucified you.” Gauss said.
“You talk a big game, but I don’t see you acting on it.” Mr Universe said, bracing himself for the inevitable onslaught.
“And you try to taunt me into attacking you. Look at you, trying to put up a barrier against my attacks. You should know by now you can do nothing to stop me.” Gauss said. “Face it, you’re already beaten.”
Mr Universe shook his head. “Actually, I just won. Do you see any civilians around?” Gauss looked down at the ground, and then through the windows. “No, I didn’t think so. I bought them time to evacuate. It’s just you and me now. And I don’t care what you do to me.”
Gauss laughed. “This is Los Angeles, you fool. There are millions of people within a minute’s flight. There’s nothing you could do that would stop me from levelling a dozen city blocks right now. I could kill thousands, and you would just have to watch me. You saved a few dozen lives. So what? I could kill you right now, and then finish off this worthless city, while the Boomers are in San Francisco stopping the prison breakout.”
“You won’t kill me. You’re having too much fun. And besides that, you’re not powerful enough.” Mr Universe said, ducking to the side just in time to dodge the twisted metal spear that shot at him.
“I’ll show you power!” Gauss screamed, as the spear was joined by two more.
“Struck a nerve, have I?” Mr Universe taunted, as he deflected two spears, before twisting to narrowly avoid the third.
“No, but I’m about to.” Gauss said, as a fourth spear rocketed through Mr Universe’s stomach, narrowly missing his organs, and sticking out the other side.
Mr Universe screamed out in pain, as he fell to the ground. He was a quivering, bleeding mess, when Gauss picked him up, using the same metal attachments in Mr Universe’s costume that allowed the hero to fly.
“Not powerful enough? Look at you. You’re on death’s door. Too bad I’m not through with you.” Gauss laughed, as he lifted Mr Universe through the air, before crashing him into the side of a building, knocking the wind out of him, and crushing his ribs. Moments later, he sent him careening into the side of another building, before sliding him down the wall, grazing his entire body along the brickwork, tearing at costume and flesh alike.
“I’m going to enjoy this.” Gauss said, as he levelled his spear at Mr Universe’s head.
The last thing Mr Universe saw was the spear racing towards his head, before he blacked out.

During his daily walk to the bus stop, Charlie Phillips paused to look at the television in the window of the Radio Shack on 7th Street. The screen showed Alcatraz, where a prison riot was erupting. The text on the screen said that dozens of prisoners had escaped, and that the West Coast Boomers were now arriving on the scene. Hire-A-Hero had also been called for backup. The report urged people in San Francisco to remain in their homes, but to not panic.
Charlie shrugged. It wasn’t his problem, San Francisco was hundreds of miles away. Let those supers take care of each other, out of his city. He had bigger problems on his hands, like just how he was going to afford his house payments after his latest pay cut, and how he was going to tell his wife.
When the car crashed into the ground in front of him, he never saw it coming. He leaped backwards, landing on his rear. “What the hell!” He exclaimed.
“Oh damn. Looks like I missed.”
Charlie looked up into the sky and saw a man floating above him. He was wearing the orange jumpsuit of an Alcatraz inmate.
“You… But how… No way anyone could fly that fast.” Charlie was completely taken aback by his attacker.
“Unprotected, no. But as you’ve seen, I have control over metal. It’s easy enough to build up a defensive shell, and break Mach 3. You see, there is nowhere I’d rather be than here in Los Angeles.”
Charlie was taken aback. “What? Why Los Angeles? Who are you?”
“Surely you’ve heard of me. I’m Gauss.”
Charlie’s eyes widened and he gasped.
“Oh good. You have heard of me. Then you know what you’re in for.” Gauss laughed, as Charlie began to cry.
“Oh, do be quiet. We’re going for a ride.” Gauss began to lift Charlie from the ground, grabbing on to his belt, zipper and the various other metal fastenings in his clothes.
<><><>
Matt sighed as he heard his phone begin to play “Adrienne” by The Calling. He paused his movie, and picked it up. He spent a few moments debating answering the call, but realised the quicker he answered, the quicker it would be over.
“Adrienne, I told you to stop calling me.” He said.
“Is that how you greet your girlfriend?” The voice on the other side.
“I’m sure she’d have something to say about me calling her ‘Adrienne’.” Matt quipped.
“Come on Matt, your friends aren’t around now, you don’t have to pretend.”
“I’m not pretending. We’re through. I love Hannah.”
“No you don’t. You’ll see. She’s just another fling. What we’ve got is going to last forever.”
“You’re a complete psycho, aren’t you?”
“No. I just know that Hannah isn’t enough for you. That’s why you were with me in the first place.”
“See, the operative word in that sentence is ‘were’. What we did was a mistake. I shouldn’t have done it.”
“But you loved every minute of it.”
“That doesn’t make it right.”
“I didn’t hear a denial.”
“I wasn’t denying it. But I’m passed that. You were a phase. I needed help getting through some stuff, and I needed to blow off some steam.”
“And the time will come when you’ll need it again, and Hannah still won’t be able to satisfy your every need. And you’ll come crawling back.”
“Are you listening to yourself? Hannah is more than enough for me now. I love her.”
“Does she do that thing I do? With my tongue?”
“No. She doesn’t need any tricks.”
“Funny, because that’s where she’ll be when you’re through with her. Turning tricks on some New York corner.”
“You’re insane. This conversation is over.” Matt hung up his phone.
He sat down on the couch for a moment, before deciding that he really wasn’t in the mood to watch a movie, and turned to CNN instead.
“Oh no…” He said, as he saw the events unfolding in downtown Los Angeles.
<><><>
“And look at this one. There’s a whole family in there.” Gauss pointed at the car that was floating next to them.
“No… Please don’t.” Charlie whimpered.
“I didn’t listen to you the first five times, why would I now?” Gauss pointed at the pile of car wrecks on the ground below them.
“Please… Those people have lives to live… You can’t-“
“I can’t? I can do anything!” Gauss closed his fist, and the car compressed itself into a cube, completely destroying everyone inside.
“You… You monster. There were children inside. How can you live with yourself?” Charlie was openly crying now.
“So their lives are more important than the people I just threw down there to their deaths?” Gauss cackled. “Aren’t people all supposed to be equal?”
“No! They’re children! They had their whole lives ahead of them!” Charlie shouted.
“Then if I was to crush you, it would be perfectly fine? Because you’ve already lived at least half your life?” Gauss waved his hand, and two cars sailed up to their level, and began drifting towards Charlie.
“What? No! Please don’t!” Charlie screamed.
The cars stopped in place, floating mere yards away from Charlie.
“You fools and your double-standards.” Gauss laughed. “You say that the lives of children are so important, but when it comes to your own… That’s the only one you truly care about.”
“And what about you? You only care about yourself, right?” Charlie demanded.
“Oh, you’re finally growing a backbone, are you?” Gauss chuckled. “Of course I do. But I don’t pretend otherwise.”
“You’re a monster.” Charlie said, before spitting at him. “I’m tired of your games. Kill me if you want.”
“Now that would be too easy. I’m having fun.” Gauss said, as the two cars he was suspending began to plummet. “I like watching you watch them. The pain in your heart, as they crash to their doom, knowing there’s nothing you can do.”
Charlie started to laugh, before pointing at the two cars on the ground. The occupants had emerged from their vehicles and were running away.
“What?! How?!” Gauss demanded.
“There may be nothing I can do, but he’s another matter.” Charlie said.
“What?” Gauss asked, as Mr Universe tackled him in mid-air, the two magnetic masters tangled up into a ball as they hurtled towards the Earth.
Charlie felt himself falling, as Gauss lost concentration momentarily, but as the hero and villain untangled themselves and regained their composures, Mr Universe caught him, and lowered him the to the ground.
“I was really hoping you’d be the first one here boy.” Gauss said.
“I’m going to put a stop to you once and for all Gauss.” Mr Universe said. “What you’ve done here today is inexcusable.”
“But it was all for you.” Gauss laughed. “I knew this was the best way to get your attention, while the Boomers are away in San Francisco, stopping the prison riots I started.”
“Why would you do something like this?” Mr Universe asked, pointing at the pile of wrecked cars on the ground.
“Because I want you, Mr Universe.” Gauss cackled.
“I want you to die.”

Dane Bromwich, better known to the world at large as EmCee, winced, as the needle punctured his skin.
“Bro, that stings.” Dane complained, as he fought not to jerk his arm away.
“Listen kid, I’m not your bro.” John Wilson, aka Scalpel, didn’t even look up from his work. “I didn’t realise you were under the impression that this was going to tickle.”
“It’s not that. It was just a shock, you know. It’s my first time.” Dane said.
Wilson pulled the needle away from the twenty year-old’s arm. “Did you hear that boys? It’s his first time!” He shouted, to the other two men sitting in the room.
“You’d best be gentle then Scal’, it’s gotta be special.” The largest man in the room, Jack Beck, formerly known as Seizure, laughed, clapping the other man on the back.
“Yeah, a girl always remembers getting her cherry popped.” The fourth man, James Wood, aka Jamais Vu, added.
“Th… That’s not what I meant!” Dane insisted, his eyes going wide as he started to stammer.
“Of course not. Now do you want me to finish this or not?” Wilson demanded.
“Of… Of course. Everyone else on this rock has ink, I want it too.” Dane said.
“Then hold still and stop your whining.” Wilson continued tattooing the young criminal’s arm, as the other two convicts continued sniggering.
“How do you even get this stuff in? I mean, I know the needles are contraband. How come you’re not in The Hole?” Dane asked.
“Half the guards here have tattoos. Free, because they let me keep doing what I’m doing. I’ve got a good business going here. Which reminds me. You’ve got my payment, right?” Wilson stopped his drawing for a moment.
“Of course. Ten boxes of cigarettes. They’re all in my bunk right now. Kinda hard to move all at once, they’re wise to that, you know?” Dane replied.
“The guards don’t know as much as you seem to think kid. They don’t know about my guy who works the mail room, and the guy in the laundry. Between the two of them, I can get anything I want. Ink is easy. One of my guys has connections in LA, he’s an ex-Rocksteady guy. You’ve heard of them?” Wilson paused for a moment. “Anyway, he got caught in his first few months, so the drugs hadn’t kicked in past the point of no return. He’s practically normal, that’s why they allow him to work laundry. Anyway, he knows a guy on the outside, gets me all these homemade inks. Nothing too high-quality, it’s all full of impurities. It gets the job done.” Wilson continues his tattooing. “Beck, go to the kid’s room and get me my cigarettes, I need to get them to Sun Shi Quan before he throws another tantrum.”
“You got it.” The giant replied, heading straight out the door without another word.
“Sun Shi Quan? Wasn’t he on Blackblood’s crew?” Dane asked, between winces.
“I owe the guy a favour. You won’t ask any more questions if you know what’s good for you.” Wilson said, holding his needle in Dane’s arm a little longer than he needed to.
“Got it.” Dane said.
Before the conversation could continue, Beck was back in the cell, empty handed.
“What are you doing back?” Wilson asked.
“Guards’ orders boss, everyone has to be in a cell. They’re moving someone through.” Beck replied.
“I wonder who that could be.” Woods muttered underneath his breath, as the guard walked past, pulling the cell door shut, as he counted the inmates.
“Who else?” Wilson replied, not even looking up from his work.
The door from the maximum security wing opened up, and a pair of guards walked through, armed with their state-of-the-art carbon-fibre tazer guns. Behind them two more guards dragged the motionless body of a man, dressed in the same prison jumpsuit as all the other convicts in the cells overlooking the main walkway. Behind walked two more guards, armed the same as the first.
“Damn! Is that…?” Dane trailed off.
“Yes. It is. They parade him through here every few weeks on some trumped-up excuse. He’s drugged up to the eyeballs, can barely breathe on his own when he’s like that. They think that he’s an example to us. If we step out of line, they’ll do it to us too, that kind of thing.” Wilson explained.
“But still, that guy is the hardest of hardcore. I can’t believe he’s right there, and he probably doesn’t even know it.” Dane said.
“He was supposed to be in Gitmo weeks ago. Guess that’s off the cards though. Turns out it was his old crew that did the breakout there. Maybe they’ll come here next.” Woods said.
“Gauss doesn’t have a crew, James. He uses people. He doesn’t have allies, he has servants. Most of them don’t live to tell the story.” Wilson said.
“Then how do you know?” Dane asked.
“What did he tell you about asking questions?” Woods smacked Dane on the back of the head.
“No. It’s fine. I’m done with his tattoo anyway.” Wilson said, pulling away, revealing a stylised image of a microphone. “You want to know how I know about the way Gauss treats the people he works with?”
Wilson opened up his jumpsuit, revealing his bare chest below. The flesh was puckered, criss-crossed with scars. “We worked a couple of gigs together. I liked to cut people up, he like to hurt them. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Then he decided we were through. Just like that. So he started cutting on me with my own scalpels. If someone hadn’t called the cops, and had anyone but the Boomers shown up, I’d have been dead in a gutter, instead of dragged up into court, and then brought here.”
“Woah. That is so messed up. Worst thing I ever did was boost a couple of stores man.” Dane said.
“Fascinating.” Wilson said drily.
<><><>
Hours passed, as Gauss lay in his cell, waiting for the drugs to wear off. As time progressed, he found himself gaining more and more strength. First, he could move under his own strength, then he could sit up. Once he could stand, he also felt his powers coming back to him. His mastery of magnetism was what defined him, without that, he would just be another human.
Of course, in this cell, he was little better than another human. Built entirely from plastic, and furnished with plastic and rubber blends. Everything they had put in this cell for him was completely useless to him. The cell was encased in an electromagnetic field, that disrupted his abilities, stopping him from being able to affect anything outside of the field. Just outside the field, in the passageway leading to the cell, was a guard station with a metal detector, to stop anyone from taking any metal in. Foolproof. Or so they thought. But Gauss had a secret.
Gauss had metal.
As he felt his powers return, he reached out, searching for his one beacon of hope. One tiny fragment of iron, barely the size of a pea, was all he had. It sat, hidden, inside his mattress. Those idiots had brought it to him. For months, the guards had been coming to him, to feed him, to beat him, to do whatever it was that struck their fancy. And with them had come the precious, precious metal. They brought it in, those arrogant fools. Tiny traces went unnoticed by the metal detectors, but not Gauss. Gauss could feel it inside their bodies. Under their skin, in their tattoos.
It had been easy to extract the iron, the tattoos were always fresh, so the guards didn’t notice the stinging pain, as Gauss slowly but surely drained every molecule from the ink, everything he could use, and carefully moved it from within the guards’ clothes, into Gauss’ ball. For months he had been biding his time, building his ball. Building his weapon. It was time for his revenge.
He looked up, as the door swung wide open, a pair of guards stepped through, tapping their plastic batons into their open palms menacingly.
“Is it three o’clock already gentlemen?” Gauss mocked.
“Damn right it is. Time for another beating, you sick son of a bitch.” One of the guards said, as he lunged forward.
Gauss didn’t move, didn’t even flinch. He let the guard hit him in the solar plexus with his baton, knocking the wind out of Gauss.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” Gauss taunted, as the guard began to pummel at the villain’s body. “Surely a big strong man like you can hit me harder than that.”
The second guard dragged his partner away, before giving Gauss a beating of his own. The second guard wasn’t as careful as the first, allowing himself to take a few swings at Gauss’ head, where someone might see the marks. He didn’t care, the lowlife deserved it. Another hard swing to the head, and Gauss was on the floor.
“Not so clever now, are you?” The guard asked.
Gauss struggled to his feet and looked the second guard in the face, before spitting at him, the combination of saliva and blood dribbling off the guard’s face. “My turn.” Gauss said.
“Wh-“ The guard didn’t finish his sentence, as he felt his flesh begin to tear, as the tiny metal projectile ripped through his body, before continuing on its path, and straight through his partner.
“Lock him in!” The second guard shouted, as the ball of metal split into two, the projectiles slicing through the guards like they were meat in a blender.
“I guess I win.” Gauss said, as the two guards dropped to the floor in pieces.
He looked to the doorway, where another four guards were rushing to get the door shut. He smiled, before destroying the hinges with his iron balls.
The guards rushed at him, but were again thwarted by the shrapnel that Gauss controlled so well. Within moments, they were all shredded on the ground.
Gauss dropped his projectiles, as he stepped through the electromagnetic field around his cell.
“Now the fun begins.” Gauss said, as he tore the metal detector from the ground, and began to break it into smaller fragments.

To the untrained eye, Ben Mosley was your average teenager, precariously on the cusp of adulthood. In the coming weeks, his high school career would be coming to an end. The future beckoned to him. For most young men his age, it conjured shades of college and a vocation. Though slightly blurred, love and marriage loomed beyond those specters. More and more avatars of things to come waited behind those phantoms—each one more indistinct than the last: two-point-five children, late night feedings, mortgages and—God willing—early retirement.
Ben Mosley didn’t think about many of these things, mostly because Ben Mosley didn’t think about the future—or at least, he tried not to. Few would have suspected that the young man was, in fact, a member of the team of super-powered teens collectively known as the Brat Pack. Since donning the identity of Firestorm, he had fought giant apes, ninjas, Arachnophobia, sea serpents, the Order of Darkness, intoxicated jocks, pirates and Gauss…
Still, he would hardly be considered the hero in the family. Though he and the Brat Pack had done so much good since banding together almost two years ago, there was no denying that his reputation was overshadowed by his father’s: to the world, James Mosley’s alter ego—Napalm—was a legend; to his son he was an angry old man who had long ago crawled into a bottle and never came out.
Despite the issues he had with who his father was, Ben Mosley was oblivious to his slow descent into his father’s shoes. He had anger issues of his own and was slowly developing a taste for the spirits. He didn’t have many friends and he kept his teammates at arm’s length with his increasingly-hostile attitude. Kevin and Mosley were perpetually at each other’s throats and Matt seemed to be indifferent to anything concerning the hotheaded hero. Though Katie and Ally were both able to see the path their teammate was on, both were terrified of confronting him about it. Ironically, despite being the one Mosley got along best with, Fisher was most apathetic towards the youth’s metamorphosis into his father. In the end, Mosley’s teammates allowed him to further become the thing he loathed most in this world…
Still, none of them could argue that over the course of the last week, his temper had flared to unparalleled heights…
“What the hell!?!” Firestorm thundered as he looked down at the next wave of figures to be released in the Brat Pack’s likeness. “Would someone explain to me please why my figure turns into a motorcycle?”
“Action figures that, uh… transform into vehicles are very popular,” explained Stan Tuffentsamer nervously. The man was a representative of Kung-Fu Grip, a toy company that put the Brat Pack on toy store shelves across the nation. The middle-aged man knew Firestorm was the Brat Pack’s resident loose cannon. He had been educated the hard way: the last time he had met with the group, the teen’s temper flared and Stan had been forced to sprint down the hall to grab a fire extinguisher to slay the immolation threatening his desk.
That was the catalyst behind his insisting he met them in their home: the stately manor they had dubbed the Brat Cave.
“The idea is that the Firestorm figure turns into a motorcycle and then…” Stan seized another prototype at random. “…one of your teammates could ride you!” The man said it as if it were something for Firestorm to get excited about.
Firestorm did stare at the coupling thoughtfully: the figure Mister Hale had taken up with Belle’s figure from the upcoming “Water Warriors” line of figures that would be hitting store shelves in time for summer. “Belle can ride me any time,” Firestorm said, grinning smugly at his teammate and tossing a playful wink her way.
Belle rolled her eyes but his flirtation earned him the ire of both Mister Perfect and Mister Universe. At present, Mister Perfect was Belle’s boyfriend and Mister Universe was her next-door neighbor and best-friend. “I guess in order to put a ‘Mister’ in front of your codename, you have to trade in your sense of humor?” Firestorm asked, sensing their glares. He chuckled to himself as he turned his back on the other men of his team. “‘Mister Firestorm’? Nah, sounds kinda fruity…”
“Oh, cool,” Pixel said. “I turn into a helicopter!” With her index finger, the youngest of the group idly spun the rotor blades adorning her figure. “Get to ze choppa!” she exclaimed in her best Arnold Schwarzenegger impersonation.
“Seriously?” Firestorm asked as he picked up another figure, only to let it fall from his hands onto the table. Stan gasped at the sight; he was terrified the youth might have broken one of the prototypes. “This makes about as much sense as the figure where I have a freakin’ backpack and arm cannon that shoots water! What about the ‘Battle Damaged Firestorm’ that was sold last year at Comic-Con?” the teen asked. “That one was totally badass!” Most importantly, there hadn’t been a Battle Damaged Mister Perfect or a Battle Damaged Mister Universe. It was a convention exclusive honor given only to him. “Why can’t the new lines of figures be like that?”
“There reaches a point where it becomes hard to come up with new gimmicks,” Stan said. He gathered the figure Firestorm had let fall—it was a figure of Mister Perfect that transformed into a sports car. “After the first wave of figures, we were able to market the ‘Combat Ready’ figures—like the Firestorm that had a spring-loaded mechanism that allowed the toy to eject plastic fireballs?”
That was another figure Firestorm had liked. Mister Universe’s ‘Combat Ready’ figure was magnetic and came with magnetic accessories that could stick to his chest and hands. Mister Perfect’s figure had a ‘rocket uppercut’: when the button his back was pressed, a spring forced his arm to swing upwards. Belle’s figure came with light-up eyes while Pixel—whose powers were difficult to depict in an action figure—simply came packaged with a rocket launcher.
“I fail to see the necessity for my likeness to be forever immortalized in a six-inch-scale piece of plastic,” Fissure said, turning the action figure made in his likeness over. Pressing the button on the back resulted in his conjuring a faint stream of water from the figure that spritzed him in the face. “In my time, children occupied their time with not dying, rather than spraying each other with water…”
“Whatever,” Firestorm growled. “Are we done here? Some of us have places to be…”
He didn’t bother waiting to be excused; he simply marched out of the room and vanished further into the manor.
Mister Perfect rolled his eyes. “It’s good to know that with graduation looming on the horizon, he’s starting to mature.”
“Be still my heart,” Pixel giggled. “You’ve developed a sense of sarcasm!”
“Great,” Mister Perfect grumbled as he turned his back on the youngest member of their group, “he’s corrupted you.”
Belle put down the figure she had been idly toying with and proceeded to follow the trail Firestorm had blazed. “I’m going to go talk to him,” she said.
“You mean waste your breath,” Mister Perfect grumbled as he watched his girlfriend’s back retreating from him.
Belle hurried up the stairs and soon found the room Firestorm had claimed. Her knuckles wrapping on the door caused it to creak open further; in his haste, the teen hadn’t shut the door behind him. “Ben?” she asked as she poked her head in. She cringed at the state of his domicile: purchasing the mansion had siphoned the last of the income she gained from her “Belle-Bottoms” endorsement. The ceiling was singed—no doubt from her teammate’s frequent flare-ups—and the carpet was obscured by dirty laundry, empty soda cans and precariously stacked take-out boxes.
Mosley still didn’t have a proper bed: instead a mattress lay on the floor, under the window. No sheets or blankets adorned his bed—only a pillow sans its case rested on the box springs.
“Be it ever so humble,” the girl muttered before Mosley’s lithe form stumbled out from behind the closet door. He was shirtless and garbed only a pair of black slacks. Immediately, Belle’s face turned crimson and she began to pull back. “S-sorry,” she said. “I was just… your door was open…”
“It’s okay,” Mosley said as he slipped his arms through a white dress shirt. “Lemme guess: Jockstrap is pissed that I left without curtseying to our guest?”
“Kevin,” Belle growled, emphasizing her boyfriend’s name over the soubriquet Mosley had bestowed on him, “didn’t send me up here.” After removing her gloves, Katie pried off her mask. “I was worried about you. You haven’t been yourself lately… Now I come upstairs and you’re wearing this!?!” She picked up the black jacket that was hanging from the doorknob. “I didn’t even know you owned a suit…”
“My dad used to say every man should own a black suit,” Mosley said as he started to do up the buttons on his shirt. “He called it a marry ‘em and bury ‘em suit—only times you need to wear it is for weddings and funerals.”
“See, now I know something’s wrong: I think that might be the most you’ve ever voluntarily told me about your dad.”
“Eh, Oscar Wilde had this saying: ‘The less said about life’s sores, the better.’”
“You don’t strike me as the kind who reads Oscar Wilde.”
“I’m not the kind who reads anybody,” Mosley said as he seized a black tie. “I heard it once—dunno where—and thought it sounded cool.” He draped the tie around his neck and then frowned down at it. “How in the hell do you tie these things?” he asked.
Katie rolled her eyes before walking over to stand before him. She tiptoed through his room as if she were traipsing through a minefield: with all of the litter that congregated on his floor, each step she took was a careful one. “So which of them is it?” she asked as she took the tie in her hands.
“Huh?” Mosley asked, unsure what she meant.
“You said you only wear a black suit to a wedding or a funeral. Which is it?”
“The kind without a cash bar,” Mosley grumbled.
Katie nodded in understanding. “I hate funerals,” she confessed.
Mosley chuckled. “You can’t spell ‘funeral’ without ‘F-U-N’.”
Katie rolled her eyes. “Every funeral I’ve ever been to, the priest or minister or whatever they have stands up and reads from Ecclesiastes. You know: the chapter that the Byrds used for that one song? God, every time I go to a funeral and they read that chapter, I have to fight the urge to sing, ‘Turn! Turn! Turn!’” The brunette chuckled softly and then swept a rogue strand of hair out of her face. “So, whose funeral are you going to?”
“His name is Gavin Eichenlaub; I met him on my first day of junior high. Looking back, it’s hard to believe that was only six years ago—it seems like such a lifetime now… Anyway, I wasn’t always the total badass you see before you. I was shy and awkward and… well, twelve-years-old. Anyway, my first day wrapped up with me walking home and this van pulls up… This grey thing that creaked as it went down the street and screeched when it made a left-hand turn pulled up alongside the road and this kid from my class—Gavin—sticks his head out the window and smiles. His brother, Eddy, was driving and… when Gavin pointed out that I was in his class, he pulled over to offer me a ride.
“I didn’t know who the hell the guy was and… well, you know how we’re conditioned from an early age to not talk to strangers? I took off at a run; I was terrified they were going to grab me and stuff me in the back of the van and I’d never be heard from again.
“After a few weeks of school, I got to know Gavin and… well, one day he invited me to his house after school. I told him I needed to ask permission and that night, I got it. The next day… I walked out of Chester A. Arthur Junior High School and stepped into the van of Eddy Eichenlaub.
“Eddy turned out to be pretty cool. He had graduated high school the year before and was taking college classes during the day. He got home around one—just in time to pick his kid brother up from school. Their dad died a year before and Eddy did everything in his power to keep Gavin from dwelling on what they’d lost. He was always so cool…” Mosley started laughing then and Katie pulled back. She wasn’t used to him expressing pleasure—at least, not when he wasn’t lighting things on fire.
“What?” she asked as she raised an eyebrow in suspicion.
“God, I just remembered this thing that Eddy used to do to girls…”
“Eww,” Katie said.
“That’s not where I was going.”
“I hope not.”
“He would come up to them with a handkerchief, right? And offer it out to them and ask, ‘Does this smell like chloroform to you?’”
“That’s… not a vast improvement over what I was thinking, Mosley.”
“Whatever. Thing is… he did it to creep girls out. He never had any problem getting girls, y’know? He knew he could get any girl he wanted so… when he got bored he would just do stuff like that. He was my hero. I didn’t exactly have a great family life but… Gavin’s family sort of took me in as one of them. Hell, they even took me with them on vacation once. Eddy said he was too old to enjoy Disney World and gave his seat to me. Gavin and Eddy were like the brothers I never had and now… Gavin’s gone.”
“I’m sorry,” Katie said.
“Why?” Mosley asked. “Are you the one that got him drunk off his ass and then let him drive home?”
“N-no,” she stammered. The very mention of alcohol hit a little close to home for the young woman. “I’m just… I’m sorry that you lost someone so precious.” She adjusted the newly tied Pratt knot and smiled sweetly at her teammate. “There,” she said as she patted the breast of Mosley’s jacket. “Now you look dapper.”
Mosley stared at her with his mouth agape. Katie looked up at him and he immediately shut his maw so as not to seem so dopey. Instead, his hungry eyes fixed on her with an intense gaze. Katie turned away and Mosley gently caught her chin in his hand and steered her face back to his. “Mosley…” she said exasperatedly.
“You know how in The Breakfast Club, Molly Ringwald ends up giving her earring to Judd Nelson and not Charlie Sheen’s less successful brother?”
“Don’t forget that Emilio Estevez kicked Judd Nelson’s ass in the movie…”
“Until Judd Nelson pulled a knife.”
“Kevin’s impervious—he’d shrug off a knife.”
“Good thing we’re talking about Emilio Estevez and not Jockstrap then, huh?” Mosley asked.
“Mosley, the metaphor is… Hell, you don’t have to read minds to see what you’re saying…”
“You also don’t have to read minds to see that right now, he’s terrified of who you’re becoming. C’mon, Katie… After we got our asses handed to us by the Assembly, Kevin poured himself into trying to be more perfect and you started…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it—not to her face—so he made a substitution: “You started to become more like me.” That accusation put a scowl on her face and Mosley continued, unaware of the dangerous territory he was encroaching on. “It’s weird how… he dealt with it all by trying to better himself and you dealt with everything by getting worse. You two started to pull apart. All that’s holding you together is a physical attraction—you don’t get each other! I get you though and you… Heh, you’re the only one here who gets me…
“Shouldn’t you be with someone who understands you?”
Katie stared angrily at him. “I love Kevin,” she stated. “He loves me. End of story.”
Mosley moved past her and snatched up his jacket. “Yeah, well, if life’s repeatedly pounded any lesson into my head, it’s that nothing lasts forever.”
Mosley swung the jacket around his body and slipped his arms through the sleeves as he descended the stairs. At the base stood Mister Perfect; his arms were folded across his chest and his foot was tapping impatiently. “Where do you think you’re going?” the paragon asked.
“Out,” Mosley said as his feet touched down on the ground level. “Don’t wait up.”
“You’ve got some nerve storming out of that meeting!” Mister Perfect barked at him. The youth proceeded to walk backwards, ensuring that with each step Mosley took, he was in his face. Mosley didn’t take it that way though: he smirked at the realization that Mister Perfect was backing away from him. “Mister Tuffentsamer didn’t come all the way from La Jolla to have you go slamming doors like a thirteen-year-old girl who’s daddy won’t buy her that pony she wants!”
Mosley stopped and glared at him. “Can I ask you a question, Jockstrap?”
Mister Perfect narrowed his eyes and glared suspiciously at his teammate. “What, Ben?”
“What kind of shampoo does Katie use, because upstairs when I was smelling her hair-”
Mister Perfect swung and Mosley flinched. When he realized he didn’t feel anything connect, he opened his eyes and took in the sight of Fissure’s armored-hand closed around the intercepted punch. “Perhaps I was wrong,” Fissure said slowly, “but I was under the impression that we were teammates and not enemies.”
“Try telling that to him!” spat Mister Perfect.
“Says the guy who threw the first punch?” Mosley asked.
“You wanna start something, Mosley!?!”
“You already started something, Jockstrap, but I’d be more than happy to finish it!”
“Enough!” Katie shouted. The Brat Pack turned and took in the sight of her standing midway down the stairs. “For God’s sake, I am so sick of this endless cycle! You goad Kevin and he goads you and it just keeps going back and forth! For the sake of everyone around you, just stop!”
Mosley adjusted his tie and smoothed the lapels of his jacket. “Whatever,” he grumbled. “I’ve got places to go and people to do.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Mister Perfect snapped.
“Mommy? Daddy?” Mosley looked from Katie to her beau; his voice was a mock-child’s voice. “Can I be excused from the table and go over to Timmy’s house to play?” He scoffed at them as he pranced past Fissure and Mister Perfect.
Soon enough, Mosley was on his motorcycle, flying down the road towards Jurwicz Funeral Home. There, he tried his best to navigate the labyrinth of faces he didn’t know. It seemed the Eichenlaub extended family was here in full-force. He knew a few of them from the various birthday parties and graduation ceremonies he had been to. Eventually, Mosley’s eyes settled on Gavin’s mother—Amanda Eichenlaub.
As he watched her, Mosley found himself transfixed by his late friend’s mother. Even closing in on fifty, the woman was as attractive as ever. More than anything, Mosley was enamored with her eyes: her tilted, almond-shaped eyes that found him as easily as he found her.
A man in his mid-twenties stepped up to her and offered out a bottle of water. Mosley couldn’t help smile at the sight of Eddy Eichenlaub. His hairline had receded back a bit but he was still everything Mosley remembered—even if he looked out of place in his marry ‘em and bury ‘em suit.
The grieving woman whispered to her son and the man leaned from side to side in an attempt to get a clear view at Mosley. Finally, Amanda motioned for Mosley to abandon his self-imposed post at the back of the room and join them at the front.
As he neared them, Mosley’s eyes picked out the small things he had missed from across the room: Eddy’s face had a hollow appearance and his eyes were red from crying over his baby brother.
“Ben,” Eddy said, as he offered out his hand. Mosley took it and before he could shake it, Eddy pulled the youth towards him and slipped his other arm around the man’s back. “I’m glad you came, Ben,” he said as he hugged him longingly. “I knew you would…”
“Sit with us, Ben,” Amanda said, motioning to the front row that had been reserved for Gavin’s immediately family.
Mosley opened his mouth to protest but Eddy quickly silenced that. “You were always like my little brother,” he said. He quickly corrected himself: “My other little brother…”
“You’re a part of our family, Ben,” Amanda said, ending all further remonstrations. Mosley accepted their invitation and sat down with Gavin’s mother and elder brother and watched as the chaplain emerged and proceeded to begin the memorial service.
“To every thing there is a season,” he said as he began reading from Ecclesiastes, “and a time to every purpose under the heaven: / A time to be born and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; / A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; / A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance …”
It took reserves of self-restrain Mosley didn’t know he possessed to keep from laughing and he made a mental note to hurt Katie for putting such thoughts in his head. In the end, he let out a small chortle that he quickly covered his mouth to reign in. He looked to his right—towards Eddy—to ensure he hadn’t disrespected their fallen brother; Eddy’s attention wasn’t on the minister… but on someone standing at the back of the parlor. “Eddy?” Mosley whispered, unsure what had so ensnared his hero’s focus.
Eddy bounded to his feet and turned towards the young man in the back with murderous intent shimmering behind his veil of tears. “You son of a bitch,” he growled. A collective gasp rippled through the mourners while the chaplain simply stared at Eddy with his mouth agape. If anything, Mosley realized this meant he wouldn’t have to endure anymore scripture. “You have a lot of nerve showing up here…”
“Eddy,” the man’s mother said, standing and trying to steer her surviving child back to his chair. “Let it go…”
“What’s going on?” Mosley asked, trying to make sense of everything unfolding around him.
“No, mom—I won’t let it go!” Eddy’s tears flowed freely now. “That son of a bitch shouldn’t be here!”
Mosley’s attention went to the man in the back. He seemed about the same age as Mosley and his teammates—likely approaching his own high school graduation. Little stood out about him—he was dressed like the other mourners and wore the same sad look the rest of the Eichenlaub family wore. Still, Mosley thought he saw something more there than just grief: remorse and guilt and anguish were evident on his face.
Suddenly, Mosley pieced it together…
“Edward, just… just sit down and let the preacher finish…”
“It’s not the time to cry!” Eddy snapped. Mosley looked back to his hero and was stunned to see the tears stop—literally stop halfway down his face. “It’s a time to kill…”
Eddy’s tears shot from his body like bullets and the man in the back leapt clear to avoid being hit by them. As Mosley wondered what sort of damage tears could cause, his ears registered the sound of breaking glass. Though the tears had missed their target, they had pierced the window behind him.
Mosley’s head whipped around when he caught something out of the corner of his eye: Amanda screamed as the water left her bottle and wavered like a serpent above her. Realizing that Eddy had abilities of his own, Mosley sprang to his feet in an effort to keep this from unfolding into the sort of drama he and his teammates regularly descended into. “Eddy, don’t do this!”
“He’s the one!” Eddy snapped. His tears were now floating from his face and joining their brothers in forming a halo that rotated around his head. “He’s the guy who got Gavin the booze! He got him drunk and let him get behind the wheel!
“He’s the one who killed my little brother!”
The halo flattened and became a disc. Immediately Mosley’s eyes sprang open wide. “Not good,” he said as he watched it fly from its master.
It was like a saw blade flying across the room, navigating around those Eddy discerned as innocent and seeking out the one destined to receive his vengeance. Mosley struggled to catalogue his available options: without his costume on hand, he couldn’t risk exposing his identity as Firestorm—not when Gavin’s immediately family were so intimate with Ben Mosley. He wondered if there could be a discreet way to use his powers to stop this chaos from transforming into a catastrophe but dismissed it knowing that water would beat fire every time. For a brief flicker of a moment he lamented that he wasn’t Matt, as the young genius could have formulated a plan that would have saved the day by now…
If he were Katie, he’d know exactly what to say to calm Eddy down—after all, she was usually the one who reasoned with Mosley…
Suddenly, Mosley knew exactly what to do: “Enough!” he shouted. In his mind he could picture the brunette beauty gripping the railing of the stairs, partway between the ground floor and the next level of the Brat Cave. “Don’t you get it, Eddy!?! You’re just going to create an endless cycle!”
Mosley breathed easier when he saw the disc hover in the air, mere feet from shredding through the frightened young man’s flesh. “So what!?! He’s responsible for Gavin’s death so you’ll be responsible for his!?! How long before his big brother comes hunting for you, Eddy!?! Hell, he’d have to beat the Brat Pack or the Boomers to you. Revenge is such a petty thing—it’s not worth this!” He waved his hand towards Gavin’s casket. “Your mother’s buried your father and your brother—don’t make her bury you too!”
“He killed Gavin!” Eddy cried. “He shouldn’t have come here!”
Mosley nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty tasteless, but Eddy… look at him! He obviously came here because he feels terrible for what happened! He wasn’t trying to kill Gavin! He was his friend! He made a mistake and… and Gavin made it with him! This kid didn’t make Gavin drink with him! Gavin made a choice—a really stupid one—but he made a choice! You wanna start going after anyone who ever made a bad decision? Might as well kill me next; trust me—I’ve made plenty!”
Eddy sobbed hysterically and Mosley watched as the water—both the writhing serpent rising from Amanda’s water bottle and the spinning disc forged from Eddy’s tears—fell to the floor of the funeral parlor.
Mosley turned to survey the damage. Most of the mourners had fled at the first sign of trouble. The double doors they had rushed through to escape opened once again—only this time, to admit the Brat Pack into the chamber.
Mister Perfect scanned the room and glanced over Mosley in the process. He was enough of a professional to not expose his teammate’s identity by showing signs of recognition. “Where’s the fire?” he asked, emphasizing the last word for Mosley’s benefit. Mosley understood what his rival meant: their fearless leader likely blamed him for this incident.
“Wow, the Brat Pack,” Mosley said, trying to feign awe to keep his cover. “You guys got here quick…”
“One of your fellow mourners called 9-1-1,” Mister Universe said. “Lucky for you, Fissure was listening in on the police scanner…”
Fissure shrugged. “It’s not as if I have a social life…”
Pixel watched as the lights from police cars and ambulances spilled through the windows and swept over the walls of the parlor. “Is anyone hurt?” she asked, seeing an opportunity to get Mosley away from everyone else. “Everyone should get checked out just to be safe…”
Mosley watched as the Eichenlaub family made their way out first. Eventually, the young man Eddy had tried to kill left.
Alone with his teammates, Mosley allowed himself to relax. “You mind telling us what the hell you started this time?” Mister Perfect demanded as he watched his teammate tear off his tie and slide out of his jacket. “As soon as I connected Fissure’s ‘disturbance at a funeral home’ and Belle’s ‘Mosley went to a funeral’, I knew you’d be right in the middle of it.”
“You know me,” Mosley grumbled as he slung his jacket and tie over his shoulder. He strode past the rest of the Brat Pack to head out to where the ambulances were waiting for him. He knew that if he was going to keep up the appearance of an ordinary citizen, he’d need to “I cause problems everywhere I go…”