#also the black cat and golden retriever energy would be next level

[stormyfate]

Shadowheart-mancers, is there already a convo about a goody Werewolf!Tav x Shadowheart going on?

[hobi-wan-kenobii]

Please Don't Remember Me

Ahh, @april-rainmay-blossom I'm so sorry this was absolute trash and so late. I had so many different ideas for this but couldn't decide on one so it became sort of sci-fi lmao sorry. I didn't have my normal writing device towards the end, so apologies if it gets super duper rushed at the end. My tablet isn't in the best of shapes to be writing (not without me raging about how bad it is)

Anyways, enjoy, hopefully, and happy belayed White Day!

"Nijimura-san, I am Kuroko Tetsuya. It will be a pleasure to work with you."

Nijimura stares somewhat awkwardly at the kid bowing perfectly in front of him. Kuroko stays bent for three counts, like his mother told him to, before straightening up again. He stands stone still, only fidgeting with a bracelet around his wrist.

A man standing next to Nijimura-- tall, green hair, black glasses, and a name tag that reads Midorima-- leans down to mutter something before Nijimura turns to Kuroko. "It'll be nice to have someone like you here," Midorima growls something again, "you know what you're here for, right?"

Kuroko nods. His boss had mentioned that, but briefly. "I'm here to help study your lab creations."

"Everyone else just calls them mutants, but yeah, to some extent," Nijimura smiles. "We've asked to you come study a certain mutant." Kuroko sees the man's eyes flicker to the clipboard in his hands, then to the coat that reads 'Seirin Laboratories.' It is an intimidating name, after all, and he can't help but to be a bit proud.

Midorima reaches in the red colored folder and hands a paper to Nijimura. Kuroko thinks he looks a bit odd with the giant pink sombrero, but he would be more startled if he hadn't met Midorima before.

"This is his case file. His name is currently just Mutant 4, but we're hoping you'll be able to find a suitable name for him." Nijimura pushes the paper to Kuroko. Kuroko takes it and flips it back and forth before looking to his temporary co-workers. Nijimura pulls on an awkward smile while Midorima huffs and looks away.

They almost jump when Kuroko passes the paper back to them. "Creation Number 4," he says, refusing to call them just mutants, "is not an animal. I will find him a name, if you tell me what my aspiration here is." In a nearby cage, a dog yips. It only takes a glance to tell what he is a mix of. Golden retriever, poodle. The lab puppy, Ryota.

Nijimura seems a bit hesitant at that, but Midorima cuts in the moment he begins to speak. "Your job is to befriend Number 4, a task not even Nijimura could complete, nanodayo."

Kuroko's eyes widen. If Nijimura couldn't befriend this creature, then his work was certainly cut out for him. Nijimura was known as the father to all these creatures, and if Number 4 didn't respect him... It was almost exciting. Kuroko hadn't faced a challenge like this since university.

"We would also like reports on how developed Number 4's human characteristics are. He is part human, but we don't know what part human he got," Nijimura continues.

Kuroko cocks his head. "What's the rest of him?"

Nijimura sticks out his lip before answering. "Fish. Specifically, lionfish and shark."

"So not only have you made the mythical mermaid a reality, but you have also made this mermaid extremely dangerous and theoretically unstable?"

"... Yeah."

"In the past ten years, Number 4 has neither showed any signs of communication or will to communicate. Nijimura has raised him, and assumes that Number 4's grown to his full size. This means that Number 4 ages twice as fast as normal humans, so therefore is the equivalent to a 20 year-old intellectually."

Kuroko scribbles on his clipboard as Midorima leads him to Number 4's containment tank. Midorima spills facts about the subject left and right, fast enough that Kuroko's wrist is cramping up. "Nijimura thinks Number 4 will continue to age normally. But he has no proof, as Number 4 still refuses any contact through anything but feeding. We aren't even sure if the spines on his tail are poisonous, or if he is capable of communication of moving his tail."

"Midorima, you'll overload the poor kid. Just let him do his thing now, we're here anyways."

Midorima frowns and turns to Kuroko. He gestures at the door in front of them. "This is the room containing Number 4's tank as well as Number 4. You'll be under tight supervision in this room night and day, to ensure your survival."

To survive? Maybe this really would be more than Kuroko expected.

"Go on in. We'll be with you, but just for today," Nijimura assures, walking in first. Midorima waits for Kuroko, then follows. When they get in, Kuroko's stunned.

Number 4 lays on the bottom of a see-through tank. The tank is rather large, enough for Number 4 to swim in, but he doesn't seem to be utilizing that space. He just rests at the bottom, but it gives Kuroko a good view of him. His upper half is obviously human, with shocking red hair and handsome features as well as gills on his necks. His lower half, however, is entirely fish. It's long and curled around over his head, red as his hair all the way to the tail fin. The tail itself was distinctly shark. It was covered in red and black spines, some even tipped white. The white tips are most likely his poison.

The human parts of him seem oddly familiar.

Nijimura leads him to stand on the other side of the glass from Number 4, direction front of him. Kuroko squats down to get eye level with the creation as Nijimura pats his head and walks to the other side of the room.

Number 4's tail twitches, and his ears, not human but webbed like a bat's wing, spread from beneath his hair and he peeks one ruby red eye open. When he sees Kuroko, his eyes widen, and he seems surprised almost. He's more lively than the others have said. Kuroko glances at the others, but they seem as surprised as him. Number 4 really had never moved but to eat, then.

Kuroko scoots to tap his finger on the glass, waiting for a response. Number 4 hid his ears in his hair again. That was progress already, he reacts to sounds. This much energy, despite having never moved, apparently. He almost doubts their words.

"Nijimura-san, this is Number 4, right?"

Nijimura shrugs, looking confused. "It is, but I'm not entirely convinced he's been replaced with something else. He never moves for us."

Kuroko watches Number 4 as Nijimura speaks. Oddly enough, Number 4 stops moving, and only frowns. What was the difference that made anyone but him so unlikable?

He kneels down to Number 4. He puts his hand on the glass, and Number 4 watches it skeptically. "Challenge accepted, Number 4."

Number 4 flicks his tail and puts his head back on the bottom of the tank, falling asleep again.

Weeks pass without much progress.

Kuroko sits at the top of the tank, shorts pulled up to his thighs as he dangles his legs in the water. Number 4 watches from the bottom still. Kuroko drums his fingers against his leg in thought. He wants to pick the perfect name for Number 4. Giving him a name will hopefully create a sense of importance, if he was in fact human in the brain.

"If you can't make progress, then no one can."

"He's stubborn is all."

"That makes us similar. I'm stubborn, you're stubborn. I hope we get along."

As always, Number 4 doesn't respond with much more than a small movement.

"What should we call you?" Kuroko pulls his legs out of the water and drops them back in. Number 4 moves farther away. Still, Kuroko can feel his eyes on him. It should be frightening, he doesn't know what Number 4 can do with those poison spikes, but it isn't. He feels calm, somehow.

Number 4's eyes are odd. They're strangely cat-like, lidded and lazy with thin pupils. He has heterochromia, one eye the ruby red Kuroko had first seen, and the other a glowing amber. He's curious as to why this is. Then again, he's curious about almost everything when it comes to this creation.

Kuroko taps the side of the tank. It's one of the only things he can do to spark a reaction without standing to the left side of Number 4. Number 4's tail swishes and his spines fan out. At least it's a reaction. Nijimura can't even get him to open his eyes.

"Would you attack me if I dove down there?" Kuroko ponders, and Number 4 slaps his tail against the bottom of the tank. The tail fin was shark, but it was faced differently than a shark's. More like a dolphin's. Perhaps they added a few other species, to fill some inconsistencies between sharks, lionfish, and humans. It would make the most sense.

They continue like this for several hours every day. Kuroko talking to Number 4 and Number 4 only slightly responding. Every day seems almost boring, but it's Number 4 who changes that.

Kuroko's comfortable enough to swim in the tank with the creation, and Number 4 seems fine with that, staying still at the bottom. He'll float on the surface, feeling Number 4's movements in the gentle ripples of the water. It's better than sitting and waiting for something to happen. He's floating and waiting for something to happen.

He closes his eyes, breathing out slowly. The water goes still as he runs through names in his mind. He still hasn't found a suitable name for Number 4. He's just Number 4.

With a sharp breath out, Kuroko sinks under the water. Nijimura assures him the water is clean, as it's nearly crystal clear, and safe to be in. He opens his eyes under the water and kicks his feet to go down deeper. He can feel Number 4's gaze on his back, calculating and inspecting. Number 4 is highly intelligent, no doubt. With some of the smartest creatures in him, his instinct is more developed than a normal human's. More developed than any normal, non-artificial creature.

Kuroko closes his eyes, and suddenly a name springs to his mind. He feels the water shift, and almost swallows water when he finds himself face-to-face with Number 4.

His eyes are even more dangerous this close. Not only that, but he looks even more familiar now. Spines outstretched behind him, Kuroko wonders if he's going to be killed. He closes his fist, trying not to gasp. He was given a small air tank for emergencies, but it's so small that it can be wrapper around his forearm. He puts the mask on anyways, and lets Number 4 swim around him.

Number 4's tail wraps around his arms before it falls away, and Kuroko is sure of this creation's name now. He's so painstakingly familiar that he can't help but use that name.

Seijuro.

Seijuro spins around him in the water, eyes on Kuroko the entire time, who was still paralyzed from shock. He had managed communication with someone even the most skilled doctors couldn't.

Kuroko reaches out his hand blindly, and feels Seijuro's fingers wrap around his own reluctantly. Seijuro's face shows no trade of hesitance, however. Instead, he stares defiantly at Kuroko.

Kuroko makes a mental note, Seijuro is far more human than he thought.

Seijuro's ears twitch and he brings Kuroko's hand to his chest. He is much more complex than Nijimura had assumed. Than any of them had assumed, actually. The question was, what was the difference between Kuroko and everyone else?

"You," Seijuro says, and somehow Kuroko can hear him perfectly through the water. "Remember." Although his voice is slightly hoarse from neglect, Kuroko has already drawn a few personal conclusions from it. First of all, Seijuro has a nice voice, and second of all...

Seijuro has someone's memories, a brain that isn't his.

Just how much work did Nijimura-san put into creating you, only to have you present yourself as a failed subject?

The grip around his hand tightens, and Kuroko can feel his breath slowly slipping away. "Kur.. o... ko... Tetsu... ya..." Seijuro smiles when he finishes the words, as if him saying that was something to be proud of. Perhaps it was.

Black spots dance in Kuroko's vision, and Seijuro lets go of his hand. Frantically, Kuroko resurfaces. He wades over to the edge of the tank and hoists himself on the side. When he looks over his shoulder, he's almost disappointed to see Seijuro back at the bottom again. But there are more important matters at hand. He needs to tell Nijimura.

He climbs out to reach for the mic, but stops just before he touches it. Does he have to tell him? Nijimura thinks of Seijuro as just another test subject, not a human being. Once Nijimura discovers what Seijuro's capable of, who's to say he won't toss away the original for a better copy? Kuroko pulls away his hand, he can't do that to him, he just can't.

He leaves the mic, and rests against the wall.

What do I do, he thinks exasperatedly.

At the bottom of the tank, Seijuro slaps his tail down and huffs. He's upset. Bubbles rise to the surface.

Kuroko doesn't tell Nijimura, nor Midorima or anyone else in this facility. The people who were meant to watch over him on security have long since abandoned their posts in belief nothing would happen. So no one knows except Kuroko and Seijuro. No one will know. He doesn't want them to. Seijuro doesn't either.

Kuroko continues diving into the tank from then on. Usually, Seijuro doesn't join him, but when he does, Kuroko finds himself smiling much more than he should be. Seijuro likes to hold onto him, hand, arm, just something to be touching him. Kuroko doesn't mind it. Sometimes Seijuro will come up to the surface with him, just to hear him talk. Although he doesn't do much of that himself. He seems to get distracted too much to speak.

"Nijimura! It worked! He's responding!"

He opens his eyes, for the first time ever. The light above him is blinding, but not as much as the pain in his chest. He gasps for air, his mouth run dry. The room around him suddenly becomes busy, the faint sound of people yelling and bustling around.

While the rest of the room goes up in disaster, he looks down. Wires, tubes, all hooked up to him as if he was the unfortunate fly caught up in their spiderweb. Clear fluid flowed through one, and dark red through another two. He feels more, farther down. He tries to move his legs, but they aren't there. When he looks down, his legs really aren't there.

A monstrosity of something is there instead, fused to where his legs used to be. A tail, whatever it is. He looks like those creatures in the story books, the ones your mother would show you in story books and then assure you they won't jump from under your bed at night. What's wrong with him? Why is he here?

The last thing he remembers is leaning up against a wall, happily chattering away with his boyfriend.

"I found a good movie to watch when you get here. The description itself is sad."

He smiles through the phone. "I can't wait, then. I've got the snacks."

"And I've got Nigou," Tetsuya responds cutely, while Nigou gives and affirming yap.

"Afterwards," he tries, "I would like try something. It isn't anything intimate, if that scares you."

Tetsuya laughs, the breathy giggle he does whenever he smiles. "Feel free. I'll look forward to it. Get back soon, I love you, Sei."

Seijuro starts walking. Tetsuya hadn't even been able to say that a month ago, but now he can say it without worry. "I love you, too. See you soon."

He ends the call.

He thought he would make it to Tetsuya's house walking. Instead, his journey was halted by the haunting cry of screeching tires and someone yelling to watch out. He saw headlights, and thought of how sorry he was that their date couldn't happen.

When he wakes up, he's strapped to a table, stuck with tubes and half fish, possibly. He wants Tetsuya, but he doesn't think he'll be getting him anymore. Not if he keeps this tail and is stuck here, forever. Tetsuya will find someone who wasn't forced to become a monster, and live happily with them. At least he would be happy, though.

He learns that his captor's name is Nijimura, and Midorima is the grumpy one who waits around him a lot. They try to get him to move from the table, but he doesn't. Then he's transported to a tank, where they try and force him to move. He doesn't, because all he can think of is if Tetsuya is safe. He wants to see Tetsuya one last time, or even just text him. But he can't. His humanity has been robbed from him. He's a beast now, a creation.

One day, a familiar name rolls off Nijimura's tongue, and Seijuro feels his heart skip a beat. Tetsuya, Tetsuya, Tetsuya. He'll be able to see him again!

Tetsuya doesn't remember him. It's been almost ten years by now, and they're both into their late twenties, so who can really blame him? Not to mention, Seijuro had never been able to truly involve himself into Tetsuya's life. He had too much responsibility with the burden of his father's company, so he just didn't have the time to meet up. However, any time Seijuro had off would be spent with Tetsuya.

Now he was here, once an heir to the corporal throne now a failed lab experiment tossed into the garbage.

They were going to get rid of him soon, anyways. He had acted faultily, so they had decided to "dispose of him." He wasn't too appalled by that until he heard that sweet name again.

But then time passes, and Tetsuya seems wary of him. He didn't show any signs of recognition, nor friendliness. It was obvious by now. Seijuro was just another experiment to him.

Seijuro wonders if he had moved on, and who he was with now, if anyone. Seijuro wonders what it would have been like to live with Tetsuya, to go through college together, to sleep next to each other evert night. Seijuro wonders what it would have felt like to bend down on one knee, and then kiss Tetsuya as he said his answer. It would be a yes, of course.

None of that can happen anymore. Not with Seijuro, at least.

He tries his best to get Tetsuya to remember him, though.

His heart skips when Tetsuya dives down beside him, glad that he kept this part of being human. He couldn't imagine living without knowing Tetsuya. It was impossible, for him.

"Seijuro-kun," that's what Tetsuya calls him now, "how was your night?" Tetsuya is as kind as he ever was, with the same kind glimmer behind his eyes that he showed only to his best friends. Maybe it was a mistake to show a monster like him.

Seijuro drops beneath the surface, hiding his nose underwater at Tetsuya's feet. He remembers that Tetsuya's feet are ticklish, and as expected, he giggles when the bubbles hit his feet. Seijuro restrains a smile. He hasn't been this happy since he was taken.

Was he ever filed as a missing person?

"I'll take that as it went well, then." Truthfully, it hadn't. It was another night with that one man, Haizaki, who showed no mercy in his bite nor in his bark. Seijuro despised Haizaki, as well as everyone else here except Tetsuya.

Tetsuya leans forward to slip into the water, and Seijuro moves back to let him. Tetsuya smiles at him, and Seijuro sees the exhaustion in his eyes. He wants to hug him, to kiss away his fears and wipe away his insecurities. But he can't, and he curses the world for that.

"The water's rather cold," he says. Seijuro would cuddle him and kiss his cheeks, but now he just stares as Tetsuya. He can't do anything else. "Don't you think?"

Seijuro nods. He doesn't trust his voice anymore. Its the same voice he once called Tetsuya's name from, but it feels foreign now. It's no longer his voice, it is the voice of who he used to be. Abominations don't deserve a voice.

Tetsuya moves to put his hand on Seijuro's shoulder. Seijuro's tail keeps both of them above water, but his restraint is crumbling at their proximity. He thinks for just a second that maybe Tetsuya does remember him. He doesn't like lying.

"Want to swim around with me?" Tetsuya asks, moving to hold on entirely to his arm. Seijuro lets him hook up his air tank before diving underwater.

He likes the way Tetsuya's hair floats around him under the water. Much like his bedhead, it sticks up every direction in the most adorable way. He has this sort of childish happiness when he swims with him.

The way his hands slip down to clasp his fingers seems too familiar.

He's just as happy above water, into Seijuro finally breaks.

"Tetsuya, do you remember?"

"I remember a lot of things, Seijuro-kun. What are you talking about," he doesn't seem shocked that Seijuro can speak clearly now. His mission to help Seijuro act human has become a mission to get to know him better.

Seijuro tightens his hold on Tetsuya's hand, and brings his free hand up to hold his former lover's hand.

"Did you miss me... Love?" Tetsuya's eyes widen and he freezes. Seijuro knows he remembers now.

Tetsuya brings himself closer to Seijuro, but Seijuro can't find it in him to reach out and touch his face like he used to. "Sei...?"

Seijuro nods.

"... How? You died." Tears well up in Tetsuya's eyes, and he brings himself to Seijuro.

"I don't know either." Tetsuya begins sobbing, and Seijuro isn't too far from that either. He isn't sure what Tetsuya's tears are from. Happiness or fear.

"You were dead!" Kuroko cries, "I've been looking for you forever, you never made it to my house that night and your body was never found!"

Seijuro feels tears run down his cheeks. He's ecstatic, Tetsuya's here and well. He feels the ugly spines around his waist open and retract.

"Then they lied to me. You were never a creation. You didn't have a choice in this. They never raised you from an egg, you were taken from the streets and mutated."

Tetsuya chokes into his chest and gasps for air. "I'm so sorry, Sei. I'm sorry this had to happen."

"It's alright. Did you ever move on?"

"No. It was only ever you."

"I'm glad. Sorry, though."

"It's alright. We can still live like this."

Seijuro pulls away. Tetsuya's cheeks are stained with tears. He opens his mouth, but doesn't get to say anything as lips seal away his words.

They're as soft as he remembers, not to mention he still tastes like that strawberry chapstick he always used. He almost gets lost in the feeling, but he stops himself. He can't.

"Tetsuya...?"

Tetsuya looks at him with determination. "I want to grow old with you, Sei. I'll do anything to get you away from here."

"Let's do that then." 

[kbox-in-the-box]

Austin Kingsley: Star Prodigy — Episode 1, “Saving Alexandria,” Part 6

The bright-eyed newswoman, with the compact camcorder mounted on the shoulder pad of her white blouse, wasn't the only reporter thronging the pair of black-haired, stubble-jowled, surly criminals who were led onto the maglev car, in handcuffs, by the grizzled veteran cop, but her running commentary to her viewers set her apart from the bustling crowd.

“Former youth gang leaders, who graduated to serving as hitmen for alleged mob boss Victor Bishop, the Dark brothers — older brother Gregory Powell Dark, and younger brother Michael Donovan Dark, who cofounded the Dark Knights street gang as teens in the 1970s — could be heading to prison for a permanent stay this time, thanks to a particularly incriminating videotape recovered by Apex City Police Detective Hector Haggerty. This is Tandi Sinclair, with First-Person Shooter News. We're currently broadcasting from the Lehnsherr Elevated Maglev Line, and we'll continue to provide live updates, as the Dark brothers are transported to the Apex City Courthouse.”

Greg Dark stood taller, as his narrowed eyes surveyed the car with quiet, predatory contempt, while Mike Dark's wide eyes flitted from face to face, among the now-nervous commuters, his shoulders hunched over like a jungle cat ready to pounce. Even as Hector Haggerty hung firmly to the chain connecting his two suspects' handcuffs, his other hand struggled to maintain his grip on the slippery transparent plastic evidence bag, containing the Betacam tape, while also manipulating his radio mic.

“Whose bright idea was it to pull Detective Bakshi off this shift?” Haggerty hissed into the receiver. “It's bad enough we're transporting two dangerous subjects out in the open, on the Double-L, but there should be a minimum of two officers on this detail.”

“I know those guys,” Mitzi Klingfeld whispered in excited disbelief to Austin Kingsley, who sat next to her, across the aisle from where the assembled press surrounded the standing Haggerty and the Dark brothers. “I mean, I don't, like, KNOW them, know them, you know? But they liked to stop by Bishop Builders' offices, back when I was temping there as a secretary.”

Austin scanned the details of the scene in rapid succession. Haggerty responded subconsciously to the jostling reporters, with their babbling queries and flashing cameras, by becoming more unguardedly animated (and aggravated) in his radio conversation with headquarters, his grip slackening ever-so-slightly on the chain connecting the Dark brothers' handcuffs.

As they felt that barely perceptible bit of give in their restraints, Mike's eyes met Greg's. Greg never shook his head, and Mike never nodded, but they didn't need to. They were brothers, and while Austin was well aware of how inept he was at reading people, he could still recognize what families could say with certain wordless gestures.

“They're going to try and break free,” Austin told Mitzi, before rushing out of his seat, away from the clustered media.

“What?” Mitzi checked incredulously. “No, that's crazy, they wouldn't …” she trailed off, as Mike's wild eyes locked into an unblinking stare with her own, and he broke into a savage grin. “… Oh, no,” she breathed.

The collected reporters could barely blink before the Dark brothers had pulled themselves loose from Haggerty's grip on their restraints, with Mike retrieving a small and mysterious silvery device from the cuff of his pants leg, and melting the links of his and Greg's handcuffs with it, before Greg slung one arm around Tandi's waist, and fished a hidden razor from the shirt cuff of his other arm, to press against her throat.

“Everybody down on the ground, now!” Mike shouted, pointing the device (apparently a weapon) at Haggerty, whose service pistol was already unholstered and aimed at Mike's head in turn.

“This wasn't part of the plan, Mike,” Greg growled discontentedly, even as he backed his brother's play by holding Tandi hostage, all while she kept filming, her camcorder still mounted relatively steadily on her shoulder, its eyepiece still affixed firmly to her face, as she broadcast what she was seeing live.

“Forget that noise, Greg!” Mike yelled. “I know what our orders were, but the way I figure it, we've got a lot better chance of shooting our way to freedom from a moving train car, through only one cop, than waiting until we're in the city courthouse, surrounded by an entire police department.”

“So who smuggled the contraband to you two dullards?” Haggerty interjected, his aim never wavering.

Greg's lips curled into a rare smile. “You're the detective, Haggerty. You figure it out.”

“Here's what I'm thinking,” Haggerty snarled, as he edged toward the Dark brothers. “I think this is all a load of bull. Oh, sure, the razor blade's real enough, but I'll bet my next paycheck that toy you're waving in my face is some sort of welder's torch, mocked up to look like a Flash Gordon ray-gun.”

“Actually, it appears to be an authentic, albeit crudely constructed, handheld matter-and-energy disruptor,” a professorial voice from behind Haggerty informed him, before Austin Kingsley stepped forward, clad in a skintight black bodysuit, his limbs and torso outlined by electric yellow patterns and symbols, whose flowing neon lines seemed at once ancient and alive. “Then again, it's hardly fair of me to expect Athenæum-grade quality from street-level merchandise.”

“Well, now, I didn't know the circus had come to town,” Mike chuckled, as Haggerty rolled his eyes, and even Greg allowed himself a skeptically squinty-eyed smirk. “So who are you supposed to be, sunshine?”

“The Star Prodigy,” Mitzi blurted out, before Austin could reflexively confess the secret identity that he'd concealed, by creating glowing golden hard-light holographic wraparound sunglasses to obscure his eyes and cheekbones. “I mean, um, I … heard him, you know, call himself … the Star Prodigy.”

“Another vigilante,” Haggerty shook his head wearily, “just like the Zenith Vanisher, a decade ago.”

“Not exactly humble, with a name like that, are you?” Greg quipped casually, his gravely voice almost light-hearted, in spite of the drops of blood his blade had drawn from Tandi's skin.

Austin shrugged and strolled forward, blithely inserting himself between Haggerty and the Dark brothers. “I'm not wrong, though, am I?” he checked, behaving as though he'd been handed the floor during a college debate tournament. “You alluded to a plan. I'm going to guess it was not one of your own devising, or else you wouldn't be so quick to disregard it. And while a closer examination of the disruptor which you're wielding so carelessly reveals that it has a remarkably slipshod assembly, I'm still going to say it would be well out of the reach of whatever meager resources either of you might be able to lay your hands on.”

“You know, maybe you're not a genius, but you've sure got a smart mouth on you, Mister Star Prodigy,” Mike glared at Austin, before turning the disruptor on him instead of Haggerty, “especially considering I'm the one with the death ray that can turn your head into a canoe.”

“Fire it here, and you'll do more damage than that,” Austin warned.

Greg narrowed his flinty eyes even further. “Explain,” he demanded, before a light jab from the tip of his razor drew a gasp from Tandi's throat, “and no funny business.”

“Whoever supplied you with your plan and weaponry wanted you to discharge the disruptor at the courthouse, yes?” Austin reminded the Dark brothers, racing through his exposition. “As soon as you used it to remove your handcuffs, the protective casing started to degrade. Your mistake was, you thought of it as a laser gun. It's a bomb, and according to the plan, you were meant to set it off while surrounded by as many law enforcement agents as possible.”

Greg's once-unyielding hold over Tandi loosened, as the chilling plausibility of Austin's claims settled over him like a shroud. “Mike …”

“He's bluffing, Greg!” Mike bellowed, even as the beads of sweat that sprouted on his brow betrayed his sudden shortfall of confidence. “And I'm gonna prove it, by plastering his smug face all over the side of this train.”

Austin blinked in almost comical astonishment, before rounding on Mike with the closest thing to righteous indignation that Mitzi had yet seen from him. “Are … are you SERIOUS? How has NONE of this sunk in?”

“Yeah, that's a great idea, egghead,” Mike retorted. “Keep calling me stupid, because THAT'S gonna change my mind.”

“I am NOT calling you STUPID!” Austin yelled back, before snorting bitterly, “Although, given the fact that I'm having to stand here and explain to an ostensible adult precisely why it's a bad idea to pull the trigger on a MATTER and ENERGY DISRUPTOR inside of a MAGNETIC LEVITATION train, I don't suppose I can be charged with calling you intellectually GIFTED, either.”

“Hey, hero?” Haggerty gritted his teeth. “Maybe try NOT insulting the guy who's got his finger on the bomb, yeah?”

“I'm sorry, but what exactly do you expect me to do here?” Austin threw up his hands in frustrated futility. “Draw him a DIAGRAM?”

“You don't know WHEN to shut up,” Mike began laughing, even as his body quaked with outrage. “You don't know HOW to shut up …”

“I'm honestly trying NOT to be condescending!” Austin insisted in earnest exasperation. “But I also don't know who to blame more … YOU, or the educational system that clearly FAILED you!”

Just as the Dark brothers had preyed upon Haggerty's momentary distraction, so too did Tandi capitalize on the scene between Mike and Austin to elbow a briefly unwary Greg in the gut, all while keeping her camcorder (still broadcasting live) mounted solidly on her shoulder.

Mike's burst of panic was all it took for him to pull the trigger on the disruptor, which burned his hand as it exploded in slow motion.

“Desperta Ferres!” Austin exclaimed, clapping his hands together in front of him, to generate a sphere of neon yellow energy capable of containing the fluorescent red ball of explosive force blasting forth.

For a few seconds, it almost seemed as if he might succeed in completely muting the blast … until the shockwave literally knocked everyone off their feet, even before the Lehnsherr Elevated (“Double-L”) Maglev Line lurched to a grinding halt.

When the lights in the train car flickered back on, less than a minute later, Haggerty found himself regaining consciousness roughly in time with the rest of the commuters, and sought to take stock of the total damage done. While almost all of the other passengers appeared to be waking up with only minor injuries, both of the Dark brothers were still sprawled out cold on the floor, which Haggerty counted as his first stroke of good luck that day.

As Haggerty clapped his spare set of handcuffs on the Dark brothers' wrists — one bracelet for each brother, with the chain between them passed through the gap of an enclosed loop seat armrest — he heard Tandi slapping the side of her camcorder, as it emitted white noise.

“You've got to be kidding me!” Tandi groused as she peered into the viewfinder, before she spotted that she'd attracted Haggerty's notice. “The best live coverage of my entire broadcast news career, and the electromagnetic pulse must have blanked my tape!”

Haggerty's face fell as he remembered the Betacam tape he'd dropped when he drew his gun, and he scrambled across the floor to recover the evidence bag. “Here,” he handed Tandi the camcorder tape, compatible with her equipment, “play this, please.”

When nothing but static appeared, Haggerty rose slowly from his knees, trembling as he took to his feet, squaring his shoulders as he ascended to his full height, and inhaled deeply, before he screamed and swore and pounded the wall of the train car until he was fairly certain that at least one of the bones in his hand was broken.

“That's obviously bad, then,” Tandi exhaled, as the other passengers still cringed at Haggerty's outburst, “but at the risk of sounding pedantic … HOW bad?”

“Bad enough,” Haggerty shrugged, his demeanor almost as calm as before, all except for his breathing, loud and voluminous, his barrel chest expanding and deflating like the bellows of a furnace. “Our new friendly neighborhood vigilante just erased the best evidence we had against these two walking stains. Even with the stunt they just pulled here, it wouldn't take much for Victor Bishop's lawyers to see to it that the Dark brothers get off scot-free.”

Haggerty's eyes searched the train car for the offending vigilante, but the Star Prodigy was long gone.

And so was the woman who'd named him, whom Haggerty and Tandi had already forgotten.