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“This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. How were we to know that things would fall apart so quickly? Magnetron is dead, the gun still smoking when we pried it out of his hands. We found him only hours ago, the grief of losing his friends too much. It’s been two days since the reported death of Lady Starlet. Things have been an absolute train wreck here. After Captain Thunder escaped the burning wreckage, we managed to extract some of his DNA from the area and used it to confirm his death. It felt dirty, but there was no other way around it. How else could we describe what had happened? How else could we explain the death of his wife?
Their sons are devastated, and I don't blame them. The loss of their mother has been extremely hard on them, and it feels like there can be no consolation. As for the team, we are all at a loss for words. How could things have turned out this way?
While we mourn, the government is doing their best to cover-up what actually occurred that evening while seeking his current whereabouts. As a whole, we’re deeply concerned over what Captain Thunder could potentially do with the Suppressor. He’s taken what was intended as a cure, a treatment for his people, and manipulated it beyond recognition. The device, if activated, is going to make him a god.
We always knew the day would come when we would fight a metamorph that was potentially greater than ourselves. We never knew, however, that the metamorph would be one of our own.
It breaks my heart how everything has changed, and, looking around the base, the team’s morale has been shattered. We’re currently preparing for war, having spotted what we believe to be his activity in Ukraine. We’ve discreetly gathered the most powerful metamorphs in the world, as well as our special forces, to try and bring the madman down. This will likely be my last report.
I hope that one day we‘ll come to view these events as nothing more than just a detour along an otherwise amazing relationship between metamorphs and humans. I wish we could have done more. I wish I could have done more. If I had known what the government was doing, the A.C.E.S. Project, perhaps I could've stopped them. Perhaps not. But it's too late now. All paths lead to one destination. It’s time for us to leave for Chernobyl.”
-An excerpt taken from the pages of Bridging the Gap: My Time as the Liaison for The Magnificent Seven by Leia Wojcinski
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TRISTAN STARED AT THE wall for what seemed like forever. He ran through every scenario he could devise in his mind, gathering the courage to walk through those doors one last time for their mission. Every outcome he had thought of, every possible situation, led to death. No matter how things panned down, they would be instigating a war, an act of treason against mankind.
Are you going to stand aside and let your people be murdered? This is your fault. You created this problem, now you have to fix it. You've done this before, and you've come out on top every time. What's so different now? You've got this.
Screw that stupid collar.
There’s no holding back this time. Besides, you're stronger now, you're more in control. They're going to need you at 100 percent, and if anyone in this world can pull this off, it's you.
Tristan thought about Belle, how much he wished that she was here with them now. He’d never entered a battle without her, her calming presence always making things seem like they were in control. She was so smart, and always had a solution, but Tristan doubted that even she could come up with a master plan for this. He wanted so badly to kiss and hold her. He hoped she was doing all right and that she wasn't too worried about him. Worst-case scenario...
The worst-case scenario is you’re dead. The worst-case scenario is that you’re not going back to the island unless it's in a body bag. You may never see her again.
The thought crushed Tristan, instigating a fresh wave of self-doubt. How could he possibly think this was a good idea? The pain it would cause his parents and Belle if he didn't make it out would be devastating.
But if you don't, how many more will perish because of your unwillingness to act? How could you possibly face Belle and your family, knowing that there was something you could've done to make things better? What would she think of you? Aren't you supposed to be the hero? There's only one way to ensure that you make it back to them alive. There's only one way for you to make sure that this mission is a success...
Tristan's hands slowly made their way toward the metallic collar that sat beside the bed. He could feel the electronics within it humming as it sapped the energy from within him. Over the last few months, it had been on overdrive, trying its best to restrain the thoughts from flooding in his mind and keeping his powers in check. But he knew it could only do so much. Deep down inside, he knew that he could no longer hold back.
Tristan's fingers firmly grasped the brace, and he clenched his fists across its smooth surface, sending forth electrical pulses of his own. The brace grew hotter by the second until finally, it overloaded, the circuits within frying from the surge of electricity. Tristan threw the useless piece of metal to the side and stood up.
It was time.
––––––––
WHEN TRISTAN MARCHED out of the barracks, he spotted the rest of the team in the inventory room gathering some extra supplies. Juan already had a belt of flash grenades and explosives around his waist, while Giovanni slid on a bullet-proof vest. Tristan hoped it would not come to that.
"Leaving so soon?"
Tristan turned to face his old teammate. While it had only been two years, Christian had grown into his new role and was no longer the teen Tristan once knew. The joy in his eyes, that lightheartedness, was now gone. There was a hardness in them now, a look of a man who had seen and done more than he cared to. Tristan wondered what would've been if Christian hadn't betrayed them. Would he and Gabriel be best friends? Would he have even discovered his powers?
Tristan sighed and shook the thought from his head. Regardless of what the outcome had been, their paths were now forged. He didn't think he could ever trust Christian again, despite the boy having saved them from the S.W.A.R.M. Still, it would've been nice to have him on this mission.
"Yeah, I guess so. We can hopefully sneak in before the General suspects that we’re coming. Last chance to join us, if you're interested," Tristan offered one final time.
Christian shook his head with a sigh. "Tristan, you know I can't do that. These people are going to need my help if we’re to get them back to our home base."
"And where is that home base again?" Tristan questioned.
"Ha, nice try," Christian chuckled. The boy grew serious as he stared into Tristan's eyes. "But maybe I'll show it to you one day."
Tristan nodded and extended his hand. "I guess this is goodbye."
“No," Christian remarked, shaking his head. He grasped Tristan's hand in a firm handshake. "I'll see you later."
Tristan turned and made his way to the inventory room where his three compatriots awaited. Port and Benji were also waiting, the young man strapped with a bulletproof vest and two pistols.
"Going somewhere?" Tristan gestured at Benji.
"You guys are going to need my help, and I'm not about to just sit here and twiddle my thumbs. That place is heavily guarded, and if you're going to stand any chance at getting those people out of there alive, you're going to need somebody good with electronics."
Tristan smiled at the young man and offered him a handshake. "We’ll take any help we can get, Circuit. Thank you." Benji smiled at him and resumed putting on his materials. Once he was finished, Tristan faced down his team.
"All right, this is it. You guys ready?"
The team stood tall as they gave him a nod of acknowledgment. He tried to return a confident smile of his own. "All right, Port. Let's go to Texas."
––––––––
IT WAS AROUND TEN IN the morning when they passed through the portal and into the blazing Texas sun. Tristan wished for a little bit of cloud cover, the sun’s heat relentless, but hopefully they wouldn't need to be out in the open for long. After analyzing the schematics that Benji had pulled up, they had a solid grasp of the facility and surrounding area. The building itself was nearly impenetrable, and the easiest way in would be through transport vehicles that carried supplies to the military outpost. Which was why they were currently crouching alongside the lone, dusty road, perhaps two miles out from the facility, as they waited for one of the government vehicles to pass by.
Tristan wiped the sweat forming around his sandy brow while they waited. The heat was growing unbearable, however, just as he was beginning to doubt his plan, they spotted a dust cloud just up the road. They could see the military Humvee speeding down the path as it approached their destination. Turning to Port, Tristan gave her the signal. The girl nodded before staring directly at the Humvee, waving around her arms while manipulating the air beside her. A vortex split the space in half, and before them lay the back cargo bed of the approaching truck. There were a few crates piled around that appeared to be supplies, but otherwise, no lifeforms were within.
“Perfect. We can hide behind those crates until we get into the building," Tristan stated, gesturing for the others to follow him. He patted Port’s shoulder in gratitude before going through the portal, his feet landing softly upon the flooring of the truck bed. Once the other four joined him, the rift closed permanently, leaving the young men to scuttle behind the crates.
Eventually, the truck slowed down, the vehicle having finally approached the facility. There were inaudible murmurs as the driver spoke to the guard before they were allowed inside. Following a few more seconds of movement and the sounds of a garage door closing, the truck came to a stop. As the passengers exited the car, Tristan motioned to Juan and gave him the signal. At this point, he would need to deal with them discreetly. They didn't want to make a scene upon entering.
The back door opened to reveal three guards, who entered the cargo bed to start unloading the crates. Once they stepped inside, Juan’s eyes glazed over as he moved his hands, and the three men collapsed to the floor, unconscious. Giovanni and Gabriel rushed forward to grab hold of the men and dragged their sleeping bodies to the back.
"All right, they should be out for some time. At least enough for us to find where the prisoners are," Juan confirmed as Tristan peeked his head out of the truck.
They were within an empty large, gray garage, directly beside an unloading dock. There were several other transport vehicles within the open space, ranging from battle-ready Humvees to expansive transport buses that had been used to carry the prisoners to the facility. A few feet away from them was a closed door that led to the inside of the facility. From what he had seen in the layout earlier, Tristan knew that the holding cell was a few hallways away.
Tristan scanned the room for any sign of video surveillance and noticed a few strategically placed cameras above them. Tristan pointed them out to Gabriel, who uncorked a vial and released some of the sand into the air. He directed the whirling sand onto the lenses of the cameras, obscuring the intruders from view. Tristan and the others snuck out of the truck and ran toward the door.
When they reached the doorway, Juan placed his hands upon the metal frame and closed his eyes. After a few seconds, he looked back at Tristan and mouthed out the words “four guards”. Tristan nodded in understanding and turned to Benji, who was currently crouched beside a nearby outlet. "Circuit, can you manipulate the machines on the inside? Maybe mess with the cameras?" Tristan requested.
"Already on it. You guys head inside, and I‘ll control things from here. This is going to take a lot of concentration, and I can't be distracted. I'll do what I can to have the cameras playing on a loop while you guys go free the prisoners. The holding cells should be straight ahead to the right and down the long hallway. After that, you should see a sign that tells you where to go. From what I’m seeing, there are at least fifty to sixty captives in there. A few guards are patrolling the hallway, but nothing you guys can’t handle. When you get close to the holding cell, I’ll try and supply a distraction."
Tristan clapped Benji on the back and proceeded to grab the door handle. He looked at Gabriel and signaled him to follow. Tristan threw open the door, revealing four mech-soldiers currently standing guard along the narrow hallway. Tristan sprung forward, releasing two sparks toward the end of the hallway, while Gabriel came in close behind, throwing two sand whips of his own. Before the two mech-guards at the end of the hallway could react, the lightning blast struck them dead in the chest with enough electricity to overload a storefront. The men writhed in pain as the lights within their suits flashed frantically, and they soon crumpled to the ground, their suits smoking.
Meanwhile, the two mech-soldiers that were closest had already found themselves ensnared in Gabriel's sand whips, the thick cords wrapped around their necks as he jerked them off the ground and toward him in one swift motion. The humanoids barely had time to gasp before Gabriel formed two massive hammers in either hand and smashed them into their metallic helmets. The hammer struck his targets forcefully, whipping their necks back while Gabriel simultaneously released his whip. Their bodies flipped and slammed into the back wall like rag dolls, crumpling motionless onto the floor.
“Show-off," Tristan remarked, smiling at Gabriel.
"You better step your game up, chommie," Gabriel smirked. The two took the lead while Juan guarded their back. Giovanni stood guard beside Benji, ready to protect the metamorph from any S.W.A.R.M. soldier who might come their way. The three classmates proceeded down the hallway and crept to the right, peering down the hallway to avoid being seen. Once again three guards were patrolling the floor, the mech-soldiers distracted by their conversation.
"My turn," Juan stated before he reached out with his powers to grab hold of the three men. Juan closed his fist and jerked his arm back, throwing the three S.W.A.R.M. soldiers into the air and pulling them toward the end of the hallway where Tristan and his friends were waiting. Juan got into a batter’s pose, bending his knees and elbows as he held onto his imaginary bat. Once they were within a few feet, Juan swung for the fences, blasting the three mech-soldiers into the side wall with enough force to crack their chest plates.
"I believe that’s game, boys" Juan joked, flipping his imaginary bat to the ground. Gabriel rolled his eyes, but Tristan could tell his friend was impressed. They resumed moving down the hallway and were surprised to find their path curiously clear of security, several guards and mech-soldiers walking away from the sneaking invaders. It appeared that they were heading to something.
Passing a few more hallways, Tristan spotted a sign that indicated the location of the holding cell and he followed their instructions. Eventually, they came upon the double doors that held the prisoners within.
“Psyborg, do you sense any S.W.A.R.M. soldiers inside?" Tristan inquired.
"Surprisingly, no. There aren’t mech-soldiers inside, although I can sense quite a few metamorphs within. From what I can tell, they’re all being restricted by the braces, similar to the one that you had on your neck. Still, you’d think that there’d be some heavy surveillance, especially after the General’s protocol," Juan pointed out.
"This a little too convenient," Gabriel admitted. "Something's gotta be up."
“Regardless, we need to take advantage of this and start getting people out," Tristan remarked. "This is our best chance. Even if it is a trap, having sixty metamorphs by our side isn’t a bad thing if things go to hell."
The others nodded in agreement before Tristan electrified the doors and pushed open the holding cell. The room was massive, perhaps the size of a large warehouse, and was entirely bare aside from the prisoners being held inside. The metamorphs all turned and stared in unison at Tristan and his friends, clearly shocked by their presence. There were murmurs as the metamorphs looked around and whispered amongst themselves before Juan stepped forward and held out his hands in peace.
"Everyone, I know you have questions, but we’re here to help. Give me a second, and you’ll understand soon enough." Juan closed his eyes and an aura of passivity swept across the crowd. Tristan had witnessed Juan do this before, the teen having used his powers last year to help evacuate the citizens of Escabana using a mass telepathic message. It appeared that he was using the same technique now, the prisoners stepping forward calmly and now staring at the boys in understanding.
A younger girl, no more than twelve, came forth from the crowd. "So you guys are here to get us out?"
"That's the plan," Tristan confirmed.
"There's a lot of us in here, but the guards left us a few seconds ago. There was an announcement coming over their intercoms calling for a meeting over by the cafeteria."
Tristan couldn’t help but smile as he realized the ingenious diversion that Benji had employed to draw the men away.
Smart, Tristan thought, but it would be short-lived once the men figured out what was happening. They needed to move fast.
"Well, if that's the case, we need to take advantage of the time that we have. We can escort you all back to the loading dock and onto the transport buses again. Once we’re loaded, we can use them to try and escape this prison."
"Aren't you the group that started all of this?" a nearby captive questioned, raising her eyebrows. "Aren't you guys the ones that killed that soldier back in D.C.?"
Tristan shook his head firmly. "We were set up. We didn't do anything wrong. We were trying to defend ourselves from the crowd, and that soldier’s suit malfunctioned. We never meant for any of this to happen. We were simply trying to give our story and help calm the tensions that have been going on."
"Yeah, well you guys have done a helluva job with that!" a man cried out beside the woman. "It's because of you that we’re even here to begin with! I should be home with my family and not shackled in this place like some criminal!"
The people around the man began to murmur angrily before Tristan stepped forward. "You’re right. This is our fault. But right now, we’re your only hope if you ever want to get out of here and back home to your families. I'm sorry for how things have turned out, but you have to believe us, we were only trying to help."
For a moment, silence hung in the air while the people continued to glare at them with distrust. Tristan’s heart sank until the deadlock was broken, the young girl stepping forward to face the crowd.
"Look, I don't know about you, but I just want to go home. I could care less who wants to spring us out of here, as long as they've got a way out. We could either stay here and wait for those mechs to come back, or we escape and try to make it back to our families. I'm not about to be treated like some kind of animal just because of what I am. I don’t belong in a collar," she declared, pointing at her neck brace. "I believe what they're saying. If they really are innocent, then I think it makes sense for us to follow them."
Though not entirely convinced, the prisoners appeared to listen to the girl's reasoning, a majority of them nodding in agreement. Tristan smiled gratefully at her and extended his hand. "I'm Electro. This is my brother, Agayu, and our friend, Psyborg. If you guys want to get out of here, we’ll show you the way. Agayu and Psyborg, take point. I’ll keep watch from the rear. We need to proceed in a calm, orderly fashion so that we don't just trample one other getting out of this hall. We don't want to be sitting targets for the soldiers once they figure out what's going on. We need to move fast."
The prisoners confirmed that they understood before Gabriel and Juan turned to lead the way. They shuffled out in order as they left the holding cell and marched back to where the team had come from. Tristan waited behind until the last of the metamorphs had left. The girl hung back to join him as he took up his position behind the group.
"My name is Donna, by the way. Pleased to meet you. I’ll hang back with you in case any of the guards return. I'm not the strongest person in the world, but even with these collars, they can't entirely suppress my heat rays."
"Hopefully, it won't come to that, but I'll gladly accept your help until we can get those bracers off of everyone."
As they jogged down the hallway, Donna filled him in on how they had arrived at the compound.
"We were just sitting down and having dinner like normal when those mechs broke into our house. They held a gun to my parents while they put me in handcuffs and escorted me out. They told me that I was under arrest and that I was too dangerous to be around normal people. Until they figured out what to do with me, I was supposed to be held here, along with other powerful metamorphs like me."
Tristan’s jaw clenched at the thought of the poor girl being taken from her family in such a way. She was just a kid. He could only imagine how the others had been captured. Rounding the corner, Tristan could see Giovanni and Benji up ahead directing the prisoners onto the buses. They could seat a little over fifteen people on a bus, and Benji flickered the four engines to life after they had filled. The young man walked over to Tristan before saying, "I've already disabled the other vehicles in this hangar. If they’re going to try and catch us, they’ll need to do it on foot," he grinned.
"Perfect," Tristan replied. "You guys grab one of the Humvees, and I'll be right behind."
Watching the buses, Tristan figured they could trail the caravan while he and his friends protected the metamorphs from any oncoming pursuers. As he was turning to leave, the familiar click of a gun reverberated behind him as footsteps clattered down the hall. Spinning around, Tristan could see the solitary officer raising his arms, gun in hand.
"Freeze! Don't move! Hands on your head, and get on the ground!" The man was a regular security guard, an older gentleman whose wavering voice and shaking weapon betrayed the authority of his words.
Dammit, Tristan thought. Either their fake meeting had been found out or this poor soul hadn’t gotten the memo. Either way, judging from his trembling hands, Tristan could see this was not someone who had seen much combat.
"Easy there, soldier. No need to make a stupid decision," Tristan responded, raising his hands. "We’re getting out of here, one way or another other. There's no need for you to get hurt because of this."
Tristan could see Donna shaking beside him, a faint warmth emanating from the girl. Oh no...
“Electro, I'm scared," she whispered, the heat around them growing stronger.
"What the hell? What’s wrong with that girl's eyes? Make her stop!"
Tristan turned to Donna and knelt beside her. "Donna, I'm going to need you to relax. It's okay. We have this under control." Tristan could tell from the way she was shaking that she was barely listening, her eyes taking on a fiery glow.
"I said make her stop! That's an order!"
"I can't! She's just a kid! She can't control it! Just shut up for a minute and give her some time!" Tristan urged. The man was trembling violently now as the heat from her eyes began to cause the air before him to shimmer.
“Keep looking at me, Donna! Keep looking at me! Don’t take your eyes away from me!”
“Don’t make me do this!”
No, God, please don't let her–
As the girl turned her bright, red eyes toward the security guard, everything seemed to pass in slow motion. The frightened girl opened her eyes wide in panic. The officer adjusted his aim toward her head. The hallway echoed with the sound of the bullet before it had even left the barrel. Tristan tried to project an electrical shield around her as quickly as he could, but he was too slow, the metallic projectile one step ahead of him. The bullet ricocheted away at the last second, making a dent within the door frame next to them.
Tristan breathed out a sigh of relief...until he saw the empty look in the girl's eyes. They were no longer glowing. She had her hand over her chest, a dark, red liquid spreading along her shirt. She turned her face toward Tristan, her blood-red eyes matching the stain upon her shirt.
"I'm cold..."
The girl dropped to her knees before her face struck the floor.
The silence of the hallway deafened the scream within Tristan's mind.
"I didn't–I didn't mean–I thought she was going to..."
Tristan didn't hear the rest. He simply stood up, turned his glowing, white eyes to the guard, and raised his crackling hands, the skin completely engulfed in dark markings.
