Page 2 of Villainous Rise

I glanced at Havoc, his expression inscrutable as he studied the arena below. His fingers drummed a slow rhythm against the railing.

“So,” I said, tapping my tablet screen to save my notes, “any thoughts? Or are you going to brood about it for a week like you did the last time you thought about picking someone? Because I’ve already penciled in your brooding sessions for Thursday afternoons, and I’d hate to reschedule.”

Havoc’s lips quirked upward. “I don’t need more time to think. I’ve decided.”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by his certainty. Havoc wasn’t known for quick decisions when it came to mentorship since most amounted to nothing in the end. The last time he’d taken on a protégé had been over five years ago and that one had been particularly disappointing.

“Really? Who’s it going to be, then?”

Havoc turned to face me fully. “Both of them.”

My tablet slipped from my fingers, the corner jabbing painfully into my thigh as I caught it. “Both? You mean Valor and Helios?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

My thoughts immediately switched to stress calculations, the familiar bureaucratic panic momentarily overriding my trauma-induced anxiety. One junior Hero was manageable—scheduling, training, PR, paperwork. But two? With completely different personalities and public images?

“You realize I’m just one Keeper, right?” I asked, my breath coming in short bursts as I tried to cram everything that would need to happen into my mental calendar. “Two junior Heroes means twice the administrative load, twice the training sessions to coordinate, twice the⁠—”

“Twice the fun?” Havoc suggested, smiling.

“That’s not the word I was going to use.” My voice came out sharp, but to hell with it.

Havoc clapped me on the back, his hand warm and solid. The sudden contact made me flinch slightly—another lovely souvenir from my Dread encounter. My startle reflex was now set to “frightened woodland creature” levels. “Besides,” he continued, “I have plenty of Keepers to help with the managing of them. Don’t take it all on yourself. Remember, you’re my Keeper.”

I shot him a look. “You finally just replenished your Keeper numbers after the Great Exodus while I was recovering. And the other Keepers you have now report to me, in case you’ve forgotten. Any delegation still means oversight.”

Havoc’s expression softened slightly. “I have complete faith in your organizational skills.”

“Fine,” I conceded. “But I want it on record that I think this is asking for trouble. I get the feeling that getting Valor and Helios to work together will be like herding cats. Where one cat is a spotlight-seeking missile and the other is actually a golden retriever in disguise.”

“Fortunately, you excel at cat herding.” Havoc turned his attention back to the arena, where the maintenance crew was already beginning repairs of the damage. “And sometimes opposing forces create exactly the balance we need.”

I followed his gaze to where Valor was still soaking up adoration while Helios quietly helped clean up debris from the fight. Two approaches to heroism, each with their strengths and weaknesses. Perhaps Havoc was right – together they might complement each other perfectly.

Or they might drive me completely insane.

As we left, the weight in my chest eased with each step toward the exit. I felt like I could almost breathe normally again.

My tablet pinged with an alert, the sound making me jump despite its familiarity. I swiped away the notification before it had a chance to spoil my hard-won composure, but not before I caught the name that made my stomach flip.

“You can’t ignore it forever,” Havoc said, catching my gesture.

“I’m not ignoring it. I’m prioritizing.” I nodded toward where Valor and Helios were exiting the arena. “New protégés first, Nemesis logistics second.”

I kept my expression neutral as we walked, but my mind had already latched onto that damn notification.

Cipher had ascended to the rank of Super Villain just a month ago and he hadn’t wasted a single moment before applying to be Havoc’s Nemesis.

And Havoc had accepted the application.

The notification waiting on my tablet was about the promotional materials for their debut Nemesis fight. They needed my final approval before going to print.

Three months of avoiding even thinking his name, and now I’d be orchestrating his grand spectacle.

My pulse quickened, the sound of blood rushing in my ears almost drowning out the echo of our footsteps.

“You know,” Havoc said quietly, reading my silence, “I could have another Keeper handle the Nemesis arrangements.”