Chapter Thirteen:

Followed

Followed.

Turns out, Sir had had me under observation for quite some time. When the Wota Team had come to kill me, an alarm had been sounded, and Sir mobilized his whole Team to come to my rescue. Of course, they had arrived too late. They were lucky I had my ‘knight in shining armour’ to save me. I hadn’t yet realized my power.

Followed.

Breathless, the dark figure erupts onto the roof of the tower, metal door slamming closed behind them. They are clad in skin tight black, a mask over their face. The distinctly feminine form is carrying a large black boxcase, which she slams on the ground near the edge of the building. Crouching low, she unbuckles the case and opens it. Inside are a variety of small metal parts, which she begins to remove and assemble with dexterous speed.

Followed.

We ran the few blocks north to a small park in the middle of Yorkville, the Beverly Hills of northern Downtown Toronto. I didn’t have time to register shock at the sight of the hovering technological behemoth, as Prettiest Wreck and I were lifted into the copter. Inside, she led me to a small meeting room with futuristic glass furniture. Someone was looking at several charts in midair with some holographic computer system. At our entrance, the graphs dissolved into the air. Sitting at the meeting room table was the nerdiest looking guy I have ever seen. Like one of those stereotypical nerds you see in movies, but know doesn’t actually exist.

The woman swings the fully assembled rocket launcher over her shoulder and lays on the ground, resting the end of the long cylinder on the stone lining the top of the tower. Using the two foot high stone wall as cover, she inhales and exhales several times, taking careful aim with her weapon and waiting for her signal.

Well, he existed. Orangey red hair, freckles, no thick glasses but a weird snort when he laughed… oh, and he was tall and gangly, thin as a bean pole. He stood up and held up his hand in the ‘live long and prosper’ salute from Star Trek. Oh God…

“Hello mortal, my name is Lord Tritharglathnaan, Master of the Fantasy Genre. I’m on the Fwitoefw Team too. Welcome aboard!” Bryanna-Chardinelle just rolled her eyes and sat down at the table. I stood awkwardly and stammered something about being pleased to make this guy’s acquaintance. To our chagrin, he continued talking.

“I have to say, that fight was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen! I mean, for a mortal. You really are something special, aren’t you? I mean-”

“Arny, shut up and sit down. We need to begin this meeting.” Prettiest Wreck’s patience was finite. The geek sat down, mumbling something about his name being Lord Something-or-other, not ‘Arny’. I sat down at the table, and Bryanna-Chardinelle began the meeting.

“The Leader of the Fwitoefw Team sent us to brief and debrief you on everything that has just happened, and to begin your orientation into the Team. As you know, my name is Bryanna-Chardinelle Fan, aka Prettiest Wreck, and I have been a member of the Team the second longest. This is Arnold Dryer, aka Lord… yeah. Anyways, he’s been a member of the Team the longest, so Sir sent us two to do this job. Piloting this copter are two other members of the Team, you’ll meet them after we’re done here.

“The first and most pressing topic we need to discuss is your new status in the hierarchy of the Writing world. I don’t know the specifics of how it works, but he does, so Arn, take it away.” She leaned back in her chair, a sage expression on her face.

“Okay, so before today occurred, you were already pretty high in the hierarchy, with your exponentially powerful innate abilities. That’s how you caught the attention of the Wota, by the way.”

A barely perceptible light flashes twice from the window of a tower half a kilometer away. Another light flashes six times from the top of a tree in the park several blocks away. Taking her cue, the woman rechecks her aim, knowing she will only get one chance at this. She tightens her finger around the trigger and fires.

“Hold on, I didn’t- don’t- have any powers. I’m really weak, I can’t do anything like what those Horsemen did, I can’t destroy an entire mall, or make an ice bridge, or…or… Besides… I have only posted a few stories on fictionpress, I’m nothing special!” Why did everyone keep telling me how powerful I was?

“Yes, well… My hypothesis on that matter is that you have always possessed your full potential of abilities, you just are unaware of how to use them. Much like Issue 274 of X-Men featuring Jean Grey as the Dark Phoenix, how she-”

“Arny, shut up. No one knows what the hell that is.” I was beginning to really like Bryanna-Chardinelle.

“Right… Kyle, can I call you Kyle? Or Mister Dee? Or maybe Randomly-”

“Kyle’s fine.” I was beginning to really unlike this Arnold guy. Didn’t he mention earlier that he was a Master? Yikes…

“Right. Kyle, you have a, a big, a huge, an unimaginable power inside you. You just don’t know how to access or control it yet. You’re like a malfunctioning dam on a massive river. You can’t let any water out, though you have the potential to unleash the entire reservoir into the metropolis below stream. Am I making any sense?”

“Uh… maybe letting out my powers isn’t such a good thing…” Both looked at me like I had just thrown up a dead baby. “I mean, if I were to ‘unleash the entire reservoir…’ wouldn’t that destroy the dam? The malfunctioning dam, aka me?” I glared at Arnold. He winced.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I meant, once you learned to be a functioning dam, you could theoretically learn to unleash as much power as you want without being destroyed.” He grinned. I didn’t.

The woman scrambles to her feet and throws the rocket launcher off the side of the building into a dumpster below as if it had been on fire. She turns in slow motion, pulling off her mask. As she throws her entire being into her run, her long dark brown hair cascades behind her, flowing past her beautiful face. She reaches the door before the explosion, flinging it open desperately. Pausing halfway through the doorway, she turns, hair whipping around, to painfully survey her work.

My eyes narrowed. “Theoretically.”

“Uh, well, we have never really dealt with someone like you before, so we have no precedent…”

Bryanna-Chardinelle kicked him underneath the table. He whimpered loudly and gave her his best attempt at a mean look, but her own fierce glare shot him down in flames.

“Look, what he’s trying to say is, you are super powerful… but then again, so are all of us! We are going to try our hardest to help you explore your powers, as long as you try too. We don’t know what will happen, but you’re better off with us than you would be on your own. Anyways, back to the main point. From what I understand, those fights you just won has skyrocketed you to an unheard of Master status. Like I said, I don’t know how it works, but you are now Master of the three genres you just killed in the streets below. Humour, Satire, and Parody. Welcome to the Master Club.” She smiled.

“Wait a minute… I didn’t kill them! I didn’t kill anyone today! Both times I was prepared to fight as best as I could, but then I collapsed! When I got up, both times, everyone around me was just… well… you know…” I looked from Bryanna-Chardinelle’s face to Arnold’s.

The missile left the launcher with explosive force, barrelling into the crisp night air with a thunderous warcry. It shot forward, several spikes extending with a small release click- the rudders for its directional system.

The missile veers a sharp left, narrowly avoiding the windows of an office tower, then hits a wide right to fly around a transport driving below. The missile shoots upwards, making erratic and wide loops. The latest technology has been used in this advanced weaponry, the missile that is impervious to being shot down… Now higher in the air, it races obstacle and resistance free toward its towering and gleaming target.

“You don’t mean… It wasn’t a knight in shining armour who saved me? It was… me?” They both nodded.

“Unless our video surveillance system got screwed up. And unless every news crew that was down there had broken cameras. And all the people with cell phone cameras too, they must have all been screwed up. You honestly don’t remember absolutely obliterating those guys down there? They never stood a chance against you!” They were both giving me funny looks. I just shrugged, unable to find any words.

“Well… I don’t know what to say… I’ll have to talk to my blog circles and do some more research, but I’m sure I’ll find some answers. But anyway, now for the fuuun part! What’s your new name gonna be!?” I gave Arnold a blank look.

“It is customary for a Writer to, upon rising in the hierarchy of the Writing World, receive an upgrade to their penname. Sir has sent over your upgrade, if you wish to open it now…” Prettiest Wreck held out a large brown envelope. Shrugging, I took it, and pulled out the single piece of paper inside. Mostly for the benefit of Arnold, and avoidance of his pestering, I read aloud.

Kyle Dee, aka Randomly Attractive, aka The Light Jester

Has been promoted to…

Kyle Dee

Aka

Randomly Sexy

The Dark Jester

I paused for a few seconds, ignoring Arnold’s oohs and aahs of excitement. My new name was different, but surprisingly appropriate. Today’s events had ruined the Light of this Jester… and Sexy is a definite upgrade to attractive.

For the next few hours, as the copter silently glided through the clouds, I was told about the Fwitoefw Team, the specifics on assignments, about my fellow Team members, and finally, I lay down on the couch in the side room to rest.

The top five floors of Pearl Tower erupt into a massive fireball, the shockwave shattering every window in the tower and surrounding towers. The structure heaves with a monumental metallic groan, and silently collapses into a cloud of dust and debris, shaking all of Archangel City. The dust cloud expands throughout the surrounding streets before settling, everything turned to ashen grey. For nine seconds, everything is silent, the only sound a rusty metal door slamming shut.

Somewhere, somebody screams, and the sirens begin to wail.

Followed.