“… illegal experiments on Variants, leading to an increase in Villain activity, and an attempt to usurp the Variant Intelligence Agency. Our agents are hard at work, and have already dismantled the laboratory in Nightmyre. Unfortunately, it seems Splinter has gone worldwide, and we are actively seeking out anyone connected to the organization. While we believe more laboratories may be active, the VIA is working tirelessly to bring our Heroes home.”
Reporters shouted their questions, and Dahlia answered every single one calmly, choosing her words carefully. Leo dug his fingers into my hip, and his throat bobbed while the crowd watched him, waiting for him to burst into flames. When itwas over, we smiled for the cameras and did the almighty wave that was supposed to show we were about peace, freedom, and prosperity. We’d almost made it through when a reporter shouted something that made me snap.
“Cinder! What do you have to say for the damage that was done in your pursuit of Splinter?”
I paused, my foot frozen in the air, ready to step down the platform and finally be done with it all. Leo tried to pull me forward, tried to ignore it, like he always had to. But I spun around, indifferent to the eyes that widened on me as I approached the microphone. I wasn’t sure what made me do it; maybe it was all the pent-up frustration, all the exhaustion, the grief and turmoil. But I was done. Done with the VIA, done with the tabloids, and done with the idea of what a perfect Hero looked like.
I waited for the crowd to settle before I took a deep breath. “Variants are messy; we aren’t perfect beings; we aren’t Heroes. We’re people, just like you, but with a target on our back and the world watching our every move. You lose your temper, and move on with your day. We lose ours, and our prisons are waiting. Our worst moments are documented for your entertainment. We’re fathers, mothers, sisters and brothers. Without Cinder, you’d have hundreds of Villains on the streets by now, and even more lives lost.”
An airplane flew overhead, and its engine broke the shocked silence.
I gave the reporters my sweetest smile. “Don’t ask to be saved if you don’t appreciate the ones who are risking their lives to do it.”
With that, I held up a middle finger, and stormed off the platform as the cameras flashed. Leo sprinted after me as we ducked into the parking lot, the crowd swelling with protests inthe distance. He caught me around the waist, and I yelped as he pulled me into him.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he hummed, nudging his nose against my ear. “But have I ever told you how sexy you are when you’re pissed off?”
I laughed as he spun me around, wrapping my arms around his neck. “From now on, they’ll have to deal with the both of us. They better watch their headlines.”
He placed a soft kiss on my lips, his smile spreading across his face. “They can say whatever they want about me, Sweetheart. As long as I get to sleep next to you at night, I think I’ll be just fine.”
Leoand I sat behind reinforced glass, our hands linked as Joon hung his head. His hair was still white, the bandages still wrapped around his body. He’d had good days, and bad days. Today was one of the bad ones.
Reed sat behind him, bags beneath his eyes as he watched, ready to bring up a shield if needed. After taking down Splinter, the VIA put Joon under strictobservation. It was bureaucratic talk for ‘gentle prison’, but the only ‘gentle’ part about it was that Leo and I had unrestricted visiting hours, and the food was better.
The coding team that Dahlia had gathered were geniuses, but they were at least three years compared to Splinter. A metal collar hung around Joon’s neck, the light hovering in the orange zone today. Green light meant good days; it was like Joon had never left. Orange was more difficult. His ability was still topping at ninety-two percent, and his energy capacity wasmassive.It messed with any signal built into the collar, making regulation a touch and go game.
We’d studied his chip—and the tech was more than complex. Codes mixed with Jack’s ability; they’d somehow managed to recreate it, and use the VIA’s tech as a catalyst. There was still so much to learn, to decipher, and Joon was forced to sit here, waiting for answers, for afix.
It drove me mad, and I knew Leo felt the same, too. This wasn’t anyone’s fault; he’d accepted that, at least. But with that acceptance, came a helplessness that ebbed and flowed. We didn’t cause it, and we couldn’t fix it. All we could do was to be here, and hope.
“Don’t look so bent out of shape,” Joon sent us a small smile, his voice husky and tired. I could tell he was trying, attempting to put on that famous mask. “Everything’s good again. They served pudding today—that was a realtreat.”
He bit out the last word, and his mouth twitched between a smile and a frown.
Leo cocked his head as he raised a brow. “This is what you call good?”
Joon shrugged. “I dunno, everyone’s alive, I guess that counts for something.”
“You shouldn’t be here too much longer,” I sighed. “They just need to make sure?—”
“—that I’m not insane anymore?” he finished for me.
Leo and I exchanged a look, but Reed chirped up from his corner. “You seem pretty crazy to me, still.”
Reed had become permanently irritated with Joon. He was exhausted; the VIA kept him there constantly, like a guard dog. On an especially bad day, after they’d attempted to switch out Reed’s shield with their own electric binds, three agents had been knocked out before he was restrained. Reed was stuck until a solution could be found.
On Joon’s good days, they weren’t exactlyfriends,but things were calm, the banter was light. Reed’s energy started to meld with Joon’s, and everything felt…hostile.
Joon glanced behind him, a soft smile on his face as mischief sparked in his eyes. He got a bit brighter, the light on his collar flashed green for a moment, and my chest swelled with hope. Distractions were good, even if they were filled with venom.
“At least I have someone pretty to keep me company,” he purred back, and Reed gagged.
Leo and I groaned in unison.
Oh, here we go.
That was the thing about Joon—he always appeared perfect, but had the makings of a menace. I almost pitied Reed. But I couldn’t help the way my shoulders sagged in relief, those flashes of my best friend slipping through, growing more with each day. After a month of observation, half of his days were green, while the other half were orange. After two, he was green nearly sixty percent of the time. Red days made us forget about the progress.
