[ 18 ]

IN BETWEEN THE SHOTS AND THE SCREAMING PEOPLE, he'd lost a part of himself. The part that valued humanity, the part that didn't cross lines, the part that was as it had always been --pure goddamn gold, the best of the best and simultaneously the worst of the worst. The part that was a hero, no arguments, no moral disputes. But now? Now, he was no longer sure of it. The image of that shooter turning to gold haunted him as he stood in the midst of the crowd of thousands, a golden glow under his skin as he pulled a pair of rubber gloves on. Finn frowned as they turned to solid gold with an audible thump, encasing his hands with metal. They hadn't fused to his skin, meaning that he would be able to easily take them off once he felt calmer.

Muttering to himself as he let his hands lay limp at his sides, he scanned the street, paranoia creeping up his neck, whispering words into his ears. Sirens wailed as people were carted into ambulances, gurneys everywhere he looked, uniformed police officers and Crux agents alike talking to shaken witnesses. Most of the important people had fled a long time ago, wheels screeching as their chauffeurs did whatever they could to get out of Semper as fast as possible, but Finn picked out a familiar face, smoking a cigar as he leaned against the column in front of the entrance to city hall.

"Mayor Roth," Finn nodded, attempting to smooth the front of his tailored suit before realising that it was a fruitless effort.

"Mr Johnson. I enjoyed your speech today." Rosswell Roth sniffed the cloud of smoke in front of him, taking a drag from his cigar before reverting his watery brown gaze to Finn. "Very -- how do I put this? Idealistic."

"A pleasure to hear, Mr Mayor," Finn replied, trying to keep his voice even. "It didn't surprise you, though."

"No, Finneas. You'll surprise me when hell freezes over, son. Maybe even then, I'll have to take a look."

"Guess it just did." Another voice joined them, followed by Narcissa's sleek figure, a smirk on her face. Despite her chilly demeanour and floor-length crimson gown, her eyes were hollow and exhausted, dark crescents under her eyes poking through her makeup, her lips pursed so tightly that they were almost colourless.

"Miss Corvus. I've been expecting you. Long time, no see, huh?"

She cocked her head thoughtfully, though Finn knew that she was only mocking the mayor.

"Yes, last time I recall was that bar. In the East. Nasty business, that was -- but I thought you were a good man. Till you hired me for that heist. Never got your merch, did'ya?" Her lips curled with grim satisfaction as Roswell Roth's face paled before turning an ugly, blotchy red.

"I have places to be," he stuttered at last, turning on his heel and getting away from them as quickly as he could without running.

"A guilty man always runs!" Narcissa called after him, shifting her gaze to Finn's golden-gloved hands with a half-smile on her face. "Stylish. So, you're not feeling great, huh?"

She combed through her hair with her fingers, tucking the loose strands behind her ears before looking up at Finn again, her black eyes glinting with what looked to be a rare show of emotion. It was then that he realised her hands were shaking, slowly making their way to his gloves. Tracing her finger along a golden palm, a visible shiver went down her spine as she leaned in closer to murmur under her breath.

"I met Roswell Roth when I was sixteen. He wanted me to steal forms from another mayoral candidate. I told him to piss off. He threw in an apartment in the West. Did the heist, ran into an assassin. I bailed and burnt his papers." Narcissa scoffed, arching an eyebrow. "You should've seen the look on his face when he heard my voice, realised it was me. Never seen a sonofabitch freeze like he did."

Finn bit his lip, looking down at the rain-slick sidewalk that they were standing on. The glass arches that made up the entrance to Semper City Hall had shielded them for the downpour, but as water snaked its way through the gutters, he felt as if he'd been hit by a tsunami -- not because of the rain, but rather, the unbearable weight that had placed itself on his shoulders with that first gunshot.

Why hadn't he reacted faster?

Maybe those four people would still be alive, able to go home to their families, able to live another day. But no, his own weakness and cowardice meant that he didn't save their lives. Freezing when the world around him was burning meant that he didn't save their lives.

Stupid, awful, golden boy.

"You okay? You look..." Narcissa trailed off, biting the inside of her cheek, and before Finn knew it, she had pulled off his gloves and taken his hand. Compared to the icy cold of his own, hers were scalding hot, but he found himself melting into her touch, craving it more with every passing second. "It's not your fault. It no-one's fault but the shooters'. Don't blame yourself, Finn."

He slowly took his hand away, letting it dangle awkwardly by his side as he felt the throb of a golden heart pass over his skin.

"You're still here," he said flatly as he looked down at his skin.

A half-smile crossed her face. "I am. Bulletproof. Goldproof." She let out a small, bitter-sounding laugh, her breath forming a cloud of steam in the air between them.

"Thanks, Nana."

Her dark eyes met his, pools of bottomless water, starlight shining on a black river, and she opened her mouth as if to say something, but closed it abruptly, her gaze passing through him.

"Finn. Narcissa," Director Singh gave them a weak smile, her usually warm bronze skin now tinged with grey, as if the colour had been drained out of her. As Finn gave her a nod in return, he noticed that Neleesha's teeth were gritted, her grin more of a bare of her teeth as she pivoted her attention away from them at over to a watch around her wrist.

The screen had a rippling crack down the middle, but as her fingers tapped rapidly on it, a hologram still managed to materialise, though the image flickered like a half-dead lightbulb.

"We have a meeting with the CIA in approximately-" she selected something from a drop-down list, causing the watch to emit a beep, "-six minutes. Time to go."

"Nice. Thanks for the heads up, Director." Finn dug his hands into his pockets, tugging at the seams as if he were nothing more than a rag doll, ready to plummet to the floor at any given time.

With his swaying body and dizzied mind, that was certainly what it felt like – he didn't enjoy the sensation one bit. Tapping out a frenzied rhythm with his toes, carving them into the soft leather soles of his shoes, he reverted his attention to Neleesha, who'd been looking at him with a questioning look on her face.

In his line of vision, Finn saw Narcissa turn away, the rain causing a halo of frizz to rise from her hair. Her eyes were rimmed with angry red, tears snaking down her cheeks despite her attempts to wipe them away with her hands, which trembled so much that it looked as if a mere touch would launch her into a nervous fit. He didn't blame her; the feeling wasn't as foreign to him as he would've liked, in an idealistic world.

"Follow me," Director Singh was saying when Finn finally focused on what her words, a drone of sound in the background. Though he'd expected for her to lead them all to a black car, whisk them away to some unknown place, preferably out of Semper, he couldn't find it within himself to be surprised when Neleesha turned on her heel and made for the now-shattered glass doors that marked the entrance to City Hall.

A team of bodyguards, the task force that had been assigned to protect Finn and the rest of Project ORDER, tailed them, some pressing in around them as shields whilst others strode in front, calling orders out and tapping away at their own watches, holograms cutting through the air with the blink of an eye. He recognised some of the people – Agent Woodford, a grey-haired man with the appearance of a bear, Agent Thernard, a tall woman with long cornrows that went all the way down her back, and Agent Hernandez, suit-clad and sleek as always.

At the head of this ensemble, Director Singh was leading the way, throwing Finn and Wildfire a somewhat reassuring look that was more "congratulations on not getting shot," than "you're doing great, sweetie" – but it was still better than nothing – barely.

As a set of security guards nodded and parted to let them through, Finn found himself counting every step that he took, waiting for something; maybe the hiss of a fuse, the cock of a gun, a bark of maniacal laughter.

Rex Corvus couldn't be far away, and everyone knew it.

Forty-one, forty-two, forty-three.

Step, step, step.

God, he was going to die here.

[~]

"REX CORVUS WAS supposed to have died a long time ago. But your mercy-" the Director of the CIA said the word as if it were a curse, "let him live. And now, because of that, he is out. Escaped, along with the most dangerous criminals in all of the United States. Goddamnit, Neleesha." Folding his arms over his chest, the Director of the CIA, Director Kinnon went on, his face turning redder and blotchier with every word. "This is a matter of national security now. Semper City is in danger, because of the Grandmaster's humility."

"The Grandmaster is out of bounds right now, and you know that, Eric," was Neleesha's sharp-tongued response, her features carved into a glower as she placed her palms down on the table, leaning forward in her seat.

"I don't care what the Grandmaster is or is not doing. He can be dead in a ditch for all I care, but our priority is finding Rex Corvus. Now."

Director Kinnon's face took on another shade of rage as he fumbled with the controls on his own gadget, which was a larger screen, embedded in the sleeve of his shirt, fitting the curve of his arm perfectly. A translucent hologram rose into the air in the centre of the table, a video playing, with loud sound emitting from it.

"This is a highway just outside the city limits, from the Northside. A van was in this lane," he gestured to a large vehicle, white and mostly unmarked except for a few dents and scratches in the paint. It looked like any other transit van to Finn, but Director Singh studied it closely, squinting in an attempt to make out the number plate.

"The plate's from Pennslyvania. Easy enough for him to get it, then - not even outta state. How the hell d'he manage to get that? He had no contact, did he?" Kinnon pressed on, and Director Singh frowned, flipping through some sort of report in front of her.

"No visitors. He killed the scientists giving him food and water -- strangled them. That was when he was tiny, six years old. After that, they had him sedated through the tubes. Kept him in a suspension tank for most his life," Neleesha said slowly, thumbing through the pages with an unreadable expression.

Outside, a siren wailed.

"I remember when the accident happened. I was there. Strung up the little guy, all of these tubes poking outta his chest. He was unconscious, but I could've sworn I saw his eyes open once. He looked me right in the eye, I saw it with my own two, and they were these awful eyes. Completely black, no light in them. The kid looked like he'd been dug outta goddamn grave. You all did, honest," Director Kinnon's gaze passed over Finn, a glimmer of what looked like pity in his eyes.

"Anyway, so they released the Grandmaster's serum -- a great man, he was. But everything went wrong, truth be told. The head doctor dumped it in; dunno how the big man let it happen. And the kid woke up, started screamin'. Screamin' like hell had frozen over, I tell ya. And-and..." to Finn's surprise, Kinnon's voice broke slightly. "These veins, black and green, they started bulging from his skin. All I heard was 'evacuate, evacuate' and next thing was, they told me the kid had gone insane."

The Director of the CIA swallowed, closing his eyes. Hands forcing fists, he threaded his fingers together and buried his face in them.

"I'll never forget it till the day I die."

"Where do you think Rex is now?" Finn found himself saying, impatience getting the better of him. Resisting the urge to scan through Neleesha's papers himself, he instead settled on meeting Wildfire's eyes for a moment, a nod from his best friend giving him a push of motivation.

"We got that unidentified vehicle heading west, outside Hartsicke River. They have a few of those roadside towns along the way, but nothing major until we hit Pittsburgh. Pretty much, not far outta Semper, but she's a big city, after all."

"Wait. Slow it down." Sasha suddenly stood up, her chair screeching against the floor. Her face turned pale as Kinnon did what she said, zooming in towards the driver of the car, a mere greyish smudge of pixels from what Finn could see, but a jolt of recognition passed over Sasha's features, quickly replaced by fleeting shock.

The Siren looked like she'd seen a ghost.

[ END ]