Paragon
Chapter 2

Zeke’s fist thudded rapidly against Jon’s door for the third time. Still no one answered, though he wasn’t particularly worried about it. If Jon was home he was in his basement plotting, connecting maps and pictures and obscure facts together making logic jumps that would give Evil Knievel pause. Luckily, Jon lived out in the country side of Glacier city in a home he’d built himself. This kept excess visitors and prying eyes away and Zeke was able to comfortably stand on his friend’s front patio without much concern for people freaking out at the sight of his skin.

Zeke rounded the perimeter, checking the windows and trying to peer inside. It was a little after 2 A.M. so Zeke had trouble seeing inside the unlit house. Then, when he came across the back of the house, he noticed that Jon’s back door was missing along with half of the wall. Zeke’s eyes widened, his heart raced and his body moved without thought. A surge of energy and rage rushed through him as he searched the house for his friend.

The place had been ransacked and flipped upside down. Whoever had been here had been looking for something that much was clear. The place smelled musty and unkempt, that was normal, which for some reason put him at a slight ease. There was no blood, no torn clothing or anything like that so he hoped that it had just been a search mission and Jon had been out and about when his intruders had paid a visit to his abode.

Moving through the house Zeke continued to search the place for any indication of where his friend was or who might have ransacked his place but he found nothing on the main level or in any of the upstairs rooms. It was simply more of the same thing he’d seen when he’d originally entered; a lot of objects turned over, ripped open or apart and every drawer and cabinet torn open. Floor boards were taken apart and the walls were slashed. What had they been so desperate to replace? Zeke wondered as he continued his search. Finally his search brought him to Jon’s basement, a place he’d been only twice before when Jon had tried to recruit him for one of his missions.

The downstairs basement was where Jon kept anything and everything related to one of the many conspiracies he was chasing. Usually the walls were covered in pictures, maps and string connected various bits of information. There would be documents, dossiers and folders galore strewn about several tables and even some on the floor depending on how clean Jon had decided to be that day. Instead what awaited Zeke was ash.

The entire basement looked like a volcano erupted; everything was torched to a cinder, no remnant or trace of any kind of evidence was left behind. It was a room of ashes with one exception. On the floor in the middle of the room someone had taken the time to spell out one word in the ashes.

PHALANX

“Strange...” Zeke whispered out loud and reached out with his extra sense. His eyes glowed yellow and became one solid color as they radiated power. Zeke’s head turned this way and that but found no electricity anywhere in the house.

“Stranger still...” He whispered to himself. The last time Zeke had been here the place was on fire with electric power. Jon had generators upon generators stashed in secret compartments and hidden rooms. All the circuitry Jon had done himself so that he was completely self-sufficient and didn’t need to rely on the city for anything. Yet now the entire place was dead and black. Lifeless. Zeke’s eyes closed, he shut off his energy sense and his eyes returned to normal once he’d opened them.

None of this sat well with Zeke; in fact it freaked him out to a level he simply was not comfortable with. First the Nullifier incident the previous night and now this. All his life Zeke had never believed in coincidences and he wasn’t about to start.

Leaving the house Zeke’s will reached out to the air around him and made it thick and clammy with moisture until he was surrounded by a layer of fog so thick the only visible thing in it were two glowing yellow eyes. Leaping off the ground he poured energy beneath him and static energy hummed in response beneath his feet, launching him back towards the city shrouded in fog. He followed the road, hoping that if someone had abducted Jon they’d be on their way to Drake tower and he might be able to catch them long before they got into a heavily populated part of the city. The night got even more bizarre when he not only encountered no squad cars, but he also saw no Nullifier patrols. Not a single official seemed to be out that night; in fact nobody seemed to be out and about that night.

Non coincidental coincidences were piling up and Zeke’s skin was starting to crawl.

"Stay inside your homes,” a monotonous female voice called out over an intercom, ”the streets are not safe. Please return to your homes and lock your doors.” The voice continued and then repeated itself over and over again. Now Zeke was really creeped out. When did these intercoms get setup, he wondered?

“1984 much...” He muttered to no one in particular. As he flew, Zeke stretched out his hands and spread the fog wider so that it wasn’t such a localized piece of weather; the traveling fog was less conspicuous that way, he felt. Zeke scoured the city, keeping low to the ground and still found not a soul throughout the usually lively city. The only sound besides the hum of electro-static energy beneath his feet was the increasingly annoying recording telling people to get inside. Something was happening or was going to happen and every second he hated it more and more. Then he heard it.

A shrill cry came from the west and Zeke turned his body without a second thought and launched himself towards it. The source of the outcry was a woman grabbing her skull and writhing on the ground. She was accompanied by at least a dozen other Supers desperately trying to fight the pain of having their powers ripped away from them. The Supers were surrounded by seven Nullifier vehicles that had a satellite-dish-like device attached to the roof. The vehicles sat in a circle with the dish devices pointed towards the center of the circle where all the Supers lay thrashing and flailing. They tried to squirm away from the officials who were laughing as they clapped their prisoners in handcuffs and started to haul them to their feet. There were easily twenty or more men and women apprehending Supers. The dishes on top the vehicles made a loud throbbing sound that sounded like a blown-speaker trying to play a loud bass-heavy song. Horribly unpleasant.

“Stop!” Zeke roared and with his voice a savage clap of thunder echoed into the sky. His eyes burned with power as dark clouds ominously swarmed and gathered above him. Ice slithered about the ground beneath him once he was only floating ten feet up. All the Nullifiers stopped dead in their tracks at the sound of Zeke’s thunderous voice and turned slowly to face him. Their eyes widened in confused horror as each shifted their gaze from the null-dishes to the floating, blue-skinned, red-Mohawk-haired Super floating above the ground near them. No one said anything. Rain started to pour. Zeke’s black shirt clung to every ripped muscle in his body that tightened against his bones.

“The fuck...” The Nullifiers whispered to one another in a small chorus. Zeke used the state of confusion as an opportunity to search the group of Supers with his eyes. He was disappointed to replace that Jon was not among them. Still, these people needed help and were undoubtedly being dragged to Drake tower. Perhaps there was more he could uncover.

Zeke let out a howl and the rain came to a sudden halt; the water on the ground suddenly became a thin sheet of ice at the sound of his voice. There wasn’t enough to immobilize any of them, but that wasn’t the intent. Zeke roared again as a large, thick strand of lightning ripped out of the sky and struck him in his chest. The enemy jumped, startled and very surprised that it hit the blue man and not them. When the bolt had disappeared Zeke’s eyes were glowing even more intensely than before, his right hand crackled and hissed with lightning that danced up and down his arm. His left hand became a frozen fist that misted like cold breath.

“Shoot it!” One of them yelled and like a snap of a magician’s fingers they all woke up from their trance of shock and awe. For a short moment Zeke twitched and recoiled as they raised their weapons and fired volleys of sonic energy at him. Waves of sound so dense they distorted the air flew towards Zeke.

Like the previous night, nothing happened.

No pain, no headache, no irritation and no loss of his abilities.

One officer caught onto the fact that the nullifiers weren’t working and pulled out his sidearm, something Zeke was sure would very much hurt him. Zeke’s right hand shot out and a single strand of yellow lightning tore through the air and hissed at its victim. The bolt struck the Nullifier in his chest and knocked him onto his back.

Zeke decided he was vastly out gunned if they all followed suit and started using projectiles. His next move was raising his left hand and then clenching his fist violently. Icy claws reached up from the ground and eviscerated the vehicles, crushing the satellites and silencing that incredibly annoying bass sound that was starting to give Zeke a headache just having to listen to. With the sound gone the Supers on the ground started to recover from their pain and some were already starting to stand up. The Nulls turned their attention to the downed Supers and started focusing their weapons on the ones who were trying to get up.

Zeke’s body flew forward, his right fist, still charged with power, caught one of the Nulls by his jaw. A few amps of electricity discharged from his fist after the strike and shocked the Null’s nervous system putting him down on the ground. Zeke left that one to drool into the asphalt and moved onto his next target. He rolled his body in midair and thrust his right foot forward, planting it firmly into another Null’s stomach. He felt Kevlar padding, or at least what he assumed to be Kevlar, which meant his strike didn’t do more than push the opponent back a little bit. Zeke repositioned himself and allowed his body to coast over the one he’d just kicked and landed behind him. He grabbed the Null by the neck and brought him in close just as two guards had pulled out their side arms and opened fire. Bullets snapped out of barrels and flew towards Zeke, but the Null he held made a very impressive shield. The bullets struck the Kevlar vest, each one forcing an audible grunt of pain from his shield.

Zeke’s right hand shot out again and another strand of lightning disabled one of the Null’s with the gun. The other who’d drawn their projectile weapon was a young woman. Zeke was very much against hitting women, but the hesitation cost him the time he’d needed. The other Nulls were also drawing their weapons and pointing them right at Zeke. He’d taken out three and there were still easily twenty more.

“Shit...” He swore after his human-shield fell to the wet ground. Several of the Nulls were now aiming pistols at his head while the rest were trying to keep the Supers they were trying to capture nullified and on the ground. Zeke’s eyes continued to glow and pulse with power as he thought of what he could do to evade getting shot. Then a sudden idea struck him; a wicked smile of contentment stretched from ear to ear on his face and the Nulls seemed very unsettled by it. One Null cocked back the hammer on his Sig Sauer and a second later the trigger was pulled, but instead of the echoing blast of pistol fire only a tiny little snap sounded. The trigger snapped off as the officer had pulled on it and every other Null followed suit and immediately broke the triggers on their side arms. Zeke’s will drew back to him after he’d finished turning the well-crafted metal into brittle ice.

“Problems ladies?” Zeke said with a shit-eating grin.

“Fuckit, get’im!” The woman yelled.

“And here I thought ladies didn’t use that kind of language.” Zeke retorted and then slipped to the side as one of the Nulls attempted to tackle him. His right fist crackled with electricity and fell perfectly into another jaw. Zeke danced around the Nulls, skating and sliding onto little icy patches he conjured with the wet asphalt as he maneuvered around them. He’d now incapacitated several of the ones who were brandishing nullifier weapons at the Supers on the ground.

The Supers ceased their thrashing once more and started to make their way to their feet, still heavily disoriented.

“Contain the packages! Damnit do I need to do everything myself?” The woman, brandishing a nametag that said Stephens, barked in anger.

“Come now, Stephens,” Zeke mocked as an icy talon rose from the ground and gouged into one of the other Null’s kneecaps, preventing him from moving anywhere. The man was screaming but Zeke paid him virtually no mind as he stalked closer to the woman who seemed to be in charge. “It’s not every day you meet someone like me, is it?”

Stephens squinted her eyes at him, taking notice of every detail. The glowing yellow eyes, the red tribal tattoos on his arms, blue skin, red mohawk. The guy just screamed “notice me, I’m a rebel!” to her and she couldn’t stand his type. Then she did something Zeke did not expect. Officer Stephens threw down her weapon and then barked an order, commanding the remainder of her men to stand down. Zeke scoffed, laughed at her and how easily she’d given up.

“You’re gonna have to kill me, freak.” She spat.

“Now why would I do that?” Zeke said, letting his eyes survey his surroundings carefully to make sure something big and scary wasn’t about to rip him apart as a result of their surrender. He watched every Null drop their weapons and retreat back behind their commanding officer, Stephens. The ones that were able to at least. He eyed Stephens up and down and she was not a pretty woman by any means. Her face was scarred on one side and burned on the other with thick blonde hair that had been pulled back into the world’s tightest bun. She was definitely well muscled, that much he could tell even with her uniform and Kevlar on. Her teeth indicated she was definitely a smoker and her eyes lit up with the kind of fury that came from a life of putting up with things she no longer had the time or patience for.

“Cause I’m not telling you shit. The only reason you haven’t killed us is because you want information of some sort and I’m not gonna give you jack shit, y’understand me? So either kill me or lemme go.” The two stared one another down, though Stephens felt odd doing so given that the man she was attempting to stare down had no irises or pupils to stare into. Just yellow sockets of radiant light pulsing and crackling with lightning. The man had shown up in a wisp of fog and brought thunder with his voice, lightning in one hand and the Alaskan winter with the other hand. Worst of all he hadn’t flinched when they’d tried to null him. In fact it only seemed to amuse the bastard. She’d never met nor heard of this guy but she hated him with every fiber of her being.

“What if I just felt like beating up some dirty cops and freeing my people?” Zeke droned on in a cold tone. His body hovered in front of her with his arms crossed. The only audible sound now was the hum of static beneath his feet.

“Well then you’re either gonna let us go and replace reinforcements to round’em up again, or you’re gonna kill us so we don’t tell HQ about this little skirmish. So my stance hasn’t changed much has it, freak?” Zeke really hated that word and he wasn’t overly fond of this Stephens woman either. He wanted to hurt her really badly, but he’d always stuck by the morality of not harming women. Instead he smiled at her.

“Beat it.” He said sternly, “before I freeze your nose hairs into solid spikes or turn you into lightning-rods.” Stephens held her ground a moment while the other Nulls turned and bolted, not even bothering to get into their vehicles. A smirk crept over her face as she turned her back to Zeke and started to walk away. When they were all gone, Zeke dropped to the ground and allowed himself to relax. His eyes returned to their natural state and he moved to each of the suffering Supers he had just saved. Again he was disappointed not to be able to number Jon among them. Zeke cursed and spat followed by running his hands through his mohawk in frustration.

“Looking for someone special?” The young lady whose scream had initially attracted him to their location said, coughing up part of her lung next to him and bending over; her hands were clutched to her stomach in discomfort.

“My friend... His home was ripped up so I thought he might’ve gotten caught...” Zeke whispered, trying to think of all the places Jon might’ve run to.

“If it’s any consolation, one guy got away.” Another man spoke up; he was young with a shaved head and a large dimple in his chin. His voice was deep and scratchy; he probably drank too many energy drinks in Zeke’s opinion. His comment, however, stopped Zeke in his tracks and forced him to turn to the throaty-sounding man.

“What’d he look like? Do you know what kind of powers he had?” Zeke inquired, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Powers? Nah, but he was a wiry guy. Had a big ol’ military tattoo on his right arm. Ranger tattoo I think, said’is name was Jon.” The man seemed pretty sure of himself and nodded several times as he spoke, recalling as much detail as he could. The physical description was definitely a match, it was also handy that Jon had given his name.

“How’d he escape?”

“Guy had some kinda grenade in his jacket. We were all in the vans when he managed to kick the door open and throw one under the wheel. Whole damn caravan screeched to a stop and they rounded us up for a head count, Jon bolted down that alley over there. Then you showed up.” He big, lumpy hand pointed down towards an alley to the east and he nodded Zeke towards it. Zeke nodded in appreciation and lifted his body off the ground once more and zipped down the dark corridor.

It didn’t take long before Zeke was following a small trail of blood that led up onto the rooftops. Something that did not surprise him at all considering Jon was a climber and that would be his fastest escape from a band of Enns. Zeke sent energy pouring beneath his feet, shooting him straight up with a gust of power. Once at the roof he spun his body around, eyes darting every which way as he searched for more clues. A dark mass lay near an air vent to his right. Upon closer inspection Zeke found it to be another Null officer in full uniform only with his head turned completely around. The man’s neck was completely broken, the frozen scream painted on his face was a testament to his last moments as well as to Jon’s brutal efficiency. Zeke wasn’t sure how Jon had managed to do that having spent a little car ride in a van that radiated Nullifier waves. If anything it likely had something to do with the man’s military training. You didn’t become a black operative for being a pansy, that was for sure.

With no other signs of his friend, even the blood trail disappearing, Zeke swore and dove back down into the alley and then back into the street where the Supers he’d just rescued were still recovering. He landed next to the large man who had directed him earlier and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Did he say anything before he blew up the convoy?” Zeke asked with an urgent tone. The large man shook his head hastily with a frown.

“I’m afraid not, guy. It’s hard to talk when you’re getting nulled, y’know?” The man said, still shaking his head.

“Uh yeah, for sure. Makes sense.” Zeke said, trying to empathize. He’d never felt the effects of a Nullifier, and from the way things seemed to be progressing he may never have to. For that he was incredibly grateful. “Listen it won’t be long before they come looking for this convoy, you need to get underground.”

“Right right, some of us still can’t move though. It takes a bit to get back on your feet for some. Especially if its the first time they got hit.” The large man put both his hands on top his head; a nervous gesture Zeke imagined.

“Then those of you who can stand need to carry them or something. It’s not going to take them very long to figure out this caravan isn’t showing up with a dozen or so incapacitated Supers. They’ll send another unit to come look for it.” He didn’t have to say more. The man nodded vigorously and ran over to the aid of one of the Supers who was still twitching a little bit on the ground. Zeke flew up into the air over the rooftops and surveyed the area around him again. The whole city seemed little more than a graveyard with how silent it had become. His eyes traveled to every street he could see and then back to the one where the caravan had been. He waited until all the Supers were out of sight before he once more enveloped himself in a thick fog and flew through the sky over Glacier City.

The night remained quiet, no more incidents occurred and Jon was nowhere to be found. Zeke found himself swearing almost every other second partially out of frustration and partially because he realized how futile it would be looking for one man in a city of almost two million people. Especially if that man had military training and wanted to stay out of sight and off anyone’s radar. Zeke made his way home, circling his apartment complex several times to make sure it was safe for him to enter his own home.

Once he was convinced Zeke flew into the window of his living room, dismissed his foggy facade and plopped himself down on the couch. His hands ran through his mohawk and frigid air blew out his nostrils. Where in the hell was Jon? He wondered, and what the hell was Phalanx?

“You there, ice-hole?” Kira called from the other room. One of her more sarcastic nicknames for him, and only one she tended to use when she was in an exceptionally playful mood.

“Yeah I’m here, sweetheart.” He called back and decided not to relinquish his comfortable position on the couch. Kira swayed into the room wearing her emerald-green nightgown while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She paid his comfort no mind and laid beside him. Her head rested on his firm chest and her arm wrapped around his waist. Kira let out a deep sigh of relief mixed with contentment now that she was physically close to him. She was a very physically affectionate person; something that had initially surprised Zeke when he’d first met her. Every signal she gave off gave him the impression that she was the stand-offish type with one arm sticking straight-out, palm forward, and the other hand teasingly beckoning you closer. He had approached her because out of all the people in the bar that night she was the only one who seemed horribly unimpressed with his victory. Yet when he asked her to dinner she didn’t make him work any harder than he had worked in the fight he’d won. They were attracted to one another and no games were played, he liked that about her. There was no chase; no unnecessary flirting; no subtle subtext; no cat and mouse. There was just Kira and Zeke.

“Stop it.” She murmured while pressing half her body against his with her eyes closed.

“What’d I do?” Zeke replied, completely lost and utterly confused.

“Thinking. You think way too much.” Kira exhaled loudly and then yawned before snuggling in closer. She seemed to want to be close to her lover at a sub-atomic level whenever she did this. She was never close enough.

“There’s a lot going on. I can’t not think about it.” Zeke had one arm around her; his fingers traced lazy circles on her bare arm as their breathing became synchronized. Inhale, exhale.

“What did Jon say?”

“Didn’t replace him... His home was completely trashed when I went there.” Kira sat up when Zeke spoke, her eyes met his and there was a sense of deep worry within her.

It was true, Kira didn’t like Jon since all he seemed to do was try and convince Zeke to go out with him on one of his missions to hunt Nullifiers or scope out various conspiracy theories he’d concocted down in that basement of his. Still, she knew Jon was also a survivor and had purposefully set himself outside of the city to avoid being followed or tracked. He’d done a very good job of it for the past three years and the fact that his house was trashed gave her worry.

Kira saw what any other worried lover might see. She saw the man she loved running after his friend, actively seeking danger in the pursuit of a comrade at arms. She saw Zeke risking more than just the skin he risked every week in a fight; he risked his life, their life together.

Prior to meeting Zeke she’d been the type of woman who wore the pants in every relationship. She dated weak men who she could boss around and poke fun of. The type of guy who’d buy her lavish gifts and take her places just to try and prove something to her. Kira let men pursue her and shrugged off or deliberately emasculated most of the ones that came after her.

The first night she saw Zeke fight had been several weeks before they’d actually met. The moment she saw him she became infatuated with him. She objectified him, absolutely. Every ripped muscle, the tribal design that decorated his upper body, the Mohawk. Every inch of his appearance called to her and then some. Then she saw him fight. It had been a thing of beauty almost. The way he danced around his opponent and used his powers not just in brute force like a lot of others did but with finesse. He controlled the fight. He manipulated the scales and won.

When he’d finally taken notice of her and come to see her she did everything she could to act unimpressed, distant and cold. Then he spoke; his voice had been a gale of wind with a tone like thunder. Kira was always hot given that she was a pyro-kinetic but when he came near she felt the chill of winter. It didn’t make her freeze or shiver with cold, instead it brought her to a cool medium that put her in the perfect mood. She’d never experience cold before him, but she loved that he gave her literal chills. All of her defenses crumbled to ash when he asked to buy her dinner and every part of her wanted to be near him so that the chill never left her body.

“Maybe he did it himself to cover his tracks?” She said, resuming her cuddling only now with her eyes wide open and her heart beating rapidly.

“I don’t think so. The walls were ripped open; the floorboards were torn up and every piece of furniture was cut open and turned over. Whoever did it was looking for something... And there was this other thing...” Zeke paused for a moment and looked down into her eyes. He wasn’t sure what it meant, or if it even meant anything, but he told her about Jon’s basement being burned to a crisp with only the word “Phalanx” drawn in the ashes.

“Maybe that’s the name of some creepy government project he uncovered? Another one of his ‘Big Brother is watching’ sorta things that you know gets him all riled up.” She said, tilting her head to the side. Zeke decided against arguing with that point.

While sometimes Jon’s theories bordered on the edge of sanity there were quite a few things he’d said in the past that had made more than enough sense to be considered plausible. The concept of Big Brother wasn’t all that far off from some of the things Jon had uncovered, and Zeke wouldn’t be surprised if “Phalanx” was connected to one of the other conspiracies Jon was chasing.

Before Zeke could reply to her, Kira’s eyes widened as she beamed at the TV that Zeke hadn’t even realized had been on this entire time. The volume was muted but that was quickly rectified once they both saw what was currently being shown on the 5 A.M. news.

“-vicious criminal known as the Hellion showing his masked face once again,” the female reporter said. The camera panned from side to side showing Glacier City University’s gymnasium ablaze with fire. The whole building was starting to actually melt from the intensity of the heat and the way the fire danced and seemed to move with its own purpose told Zeke that the culprit was likely a pyro-mancer; a Super who can manipulate and sometimes even conjure fire. He’d seen some reports of attacks by the Hellion and they were always heavy duty arson jobs, but this was the first time one of the attacks was recorded.

“We’ve now received confirmation,” chimed in a male reporter back in the studio, “that the Hellion IS holding several hostages in one of the campus buildings. Though it is unsure where on campus he is, police are sweeping the area and Nullifiers are racing to get to GCU to aid in the effort. We highly recommend any and all students or residents of that area to stay inside and lock their doors.” The fire continued to rage and Zeke almost thought he saw one of the spouts of flame resemble a giant snake before it spread and engulfed a nearby tree.

“Good God... Hostages...” Kira whispered. She’d sat up to pay closer attention to the TV but when she decided to lean back into her lover she discovered he was no longer on the couch with her. Looking around she saw him heading for the window. “Zeke no.”

“Why not?” He asked without bothering to look back at her.

“Because there’s Nulls heading that way and this guy is dangerous!” Kira’s voice was raising and from the smell of hickory that suddenly ensnared his nostrils he could tell her hair was glowing like embers without even having to look back at her.

“So? Nulls can’t hurt me and this guy has evaded capture on several accounts, even with Nulls getting involved. Hellion has never taken hostages before. I don’t think he plans on letting them live.” Zeke raised one foot onto the windowsill and looked back to Kira. Her hair was indeed glowing like embers like it did any time she became enraged, anxious or was just using her powers. Like a lot of Supers her powers were very much attuned to her emotions and when those acted up so did her abilities. Zeke’s did too but he liked to think he was good at keeping them in check even when he was upset.

“What’s gotten into you?” She yelled, leaping up from the couch. “Normally we’d just go to bed! This isn’t our fight, no one we care about is down there.”

“Well I’m not content with that anymore!” Zeke’s voice boomed like a roll of thunder. The force of his voice actually caused a small wave of force that caused Kira to take an involuntary step back. “I’m not content just watching things happen...” This time his voice was softer, though it still could’ve drowned out a concert.

“So what, now you’re some hero? Like the old days of capes and spandex?” Her tone was harsh and dripping with the disdain of sarcasm as her arms crossed over her chest. “Please don’t, Z. There’s too much to lose.” Zeke only shook his head.

He loved her but sometimes she was stubborn to a point. Kira was a survivor and tended to do everything she could to avoid harm on herself. This kind of thing blew her mind into a million pieces trying to wrap her head around. Zeke said nothing else; instead he let power course through his body and light up his eyes with power as a thick fog enveloped him and the room. The glowing eyes pierced through the fog like high beams before they turned and vanished along with the fog.

Zeke took to the sky and spread the fog around him, flying somewhat low to the ground to try and be as inconspicuous as he could be. It didn’t take him long to reach the college campus where he found a small army of police and Nulls had surrounded the auditorium building where plays, graduation ceremonies and concerts were generally held. Someone was shouting into a megaphone, something about captive release and demands but he paid the sounds no mind. Instead he slipped down to the ground and let the fog fall away as he descended. Zeke found the emergency exit and gained entry by freezing the door’s hinges and kicking it down with a heavy amount of force. Attempting to move quietly after his loud entrance, Zeke made his way into the main room and was glad to see that he hadn’t really been detected yet.

Inside the auditorium, up on the stage, he saw five figures. Four were likely students or faculty of the school, bound with zip ties and gagged with some kind of cloth and lying on their sides. Both hands and feet were bound. Two females and two males were on the ground all facing the fifth figure. A man who stood at what Zeke guessed to be almost six feet tall with an orange t-shirt underneath a red leather vest that had a demonic-ram’s head sewn onto the back. When the man turned Zeke saw that his face was covered by some kind of demonic mask with horns and a protruding tongue. The thing was creepy as all get out, but it certainly did its job of covering the man’s identity.

Hellion was pacing in slow strides from side to side with his hands behind his back. He seemed to be completely unconcerned with the police force outside, in fact he almost seemed to be waiting for something or someone. At first Zeke wanted to wait a moment, study the villain and try to wait for an opportune moment to strike and catch the Hellion off balance. Then he remembered there was a contingent of police officers and Nullifiers outside who might burst in at any minute as well as four hostages to think about. This being the case, Zeke decided the best course of action would be to act now and make sure the hostages would be safe while he disabled the culprit.

While the Hellion’s back was turned to him Zeke flew up towards the roof and gathered in energy. His extra sense sought out the electricity that danced through the circuitry of the building and siphoned it in with his right hand. The lights flickered rapidly causing the hostages to moan in fear and the Hellion to spin around in a startled manner. He looked straight up and saw Zeke who was close enough to notice that he couldn’t see any eyes inside the mask, only two black voids where he imagined he’d see irises.

“You’re not the one who was supposed to come...” Hellion barked in a bewildered tone. Zeke drew up his left hand and summoned a thick blanket of ice that quickly formed over the four hostages. The barrier separated them from the rest of the room, something Zeke hoped would keep them safe for the time being. “Whatever, another head to add to my collection then.” Hellion continued to pace while staring up at Zeke. His hands became pillars of flame that strangely gave off no light. Though it was most certainly fire that Zeke was looking at, light almost seemed to die around the flames that coated the Hellion’s forearms; it appeared to negate light, if that was even possible.

“What the actual fu-” Zeke was about to say before a long cylinder of fire roared in his direction from the Hellion’s outstretched hand. His body twisted up into the air and away from the blast which melted the steel beams above his head. “Note to self: fire hot.” Zeke whispered to himself before diving after his opponent.

The Hellion raised both his hands over his head and conjured a cannonball-sized sphere of light-dissolving flame and hurled it towards Zeke. Again he dodged away, though not as easily as he had the first and grasped the Hellion’s wrist with his right arm. With a cry of effort Zeke emptied some of the electric energy he’d sucked from the auditorium lights into his enemy’s body, shocking him enough to give his nervous system a violent jolt but without killing or paralyzing him. Zeke still had no interest in crossing that threshold.

The Hellion’s body twitched and locked up while grunting loudly. Electricity caused the nervous system to lock up; everything becomes tight and stiff; muscles, bones, everything. So very often, when one receives a shock of this magnitude, there is no screaming or noise past garbled groans of pain. The Hellion collapsed at Zeke’s feet with another grunt and then slipped into unconsciousness.

Zeke actually found himself somewhat disappointed. He’d expected, almost hoped, for an actual fight but it turned out to be highly anti-climactic. Deciding it was better that the fight had ended quickly, Zeke drew upon his will and forced the icy barrier he’d created for the hostages to melt and fade away so he could get to them. He coated his index finger with a layer of serrated ice and cut away the zip ties that held them.

“Are you all okay?” He asked as they stood up rubbing their achy wrists and removing the hand-towel-gags they’d been chewing on for the past hour or so.

“Never thought my life would be saved by some freak...” One of the girls muttered. A short, dark haired girl wearing sweats and a beanie looking very much like the type of girl who cried about injustice and big business but drank Starbucks like it was her religious mandate.

“Shut the fuck up, Karen. This guy just saved our life, the least you could do is thank him.” The other girl belted out and then hugged Zeke like someone who was actually grateful. This girl was a native, by the look of her she was one of the Aleut. Her long dark hair was slightly matted.

“Thanks... I guess.” Starbucks muttered, wiping some of her hair out of her eyes. The guilt-ridden apology made the Aleut snort in disgust when she detached herself from Zeke’s torso. The two men were both faculty members, judging by their age. Both decided to remain silent for the moment.

“Thanks, we really owe you even if these idiots won’t admit it.” The Aleut said.

“Isn’t that a pretty fuckin’ picture.” Hellion’s voice rang out from behind Zeke, who sharply spun around in time to see the Hellion raise himself from the ground and crack his neck. “I think it’s just disgusting when everyone just gets a long,” Hellion continued cracking various bones in his body and then pointed one long finger at the Aleut girl and said, “and you seem like the kinda person that does that shit. So you’re gonna be the first one I burn right after this fucking hero.” Meanwhile Zeke was trying to figure out how he’d pumped enough electricity into this guy to have effectively tasered a rhino to sleep only to have him get back up seemingly unharmed and fully recovered.

“Get behind me...” Zeke whispered, motioning one arm towards the hostages he’d just rescued.

“I really hate heroic types, you know that?” The Hellion spat; his hands went to either side of himself and fire danced through his fingertips. They were close enough now that Zeke should’ve been able to see his eyes through the mask since it seemed to have eye-sockets, but still all he saw was blackness in the two eye holes. “It really BURNS me up!” The demented villain howled while throwing both his hands towards the them. Fire roared towards him like a WWII flamethrower and Zeke had barely enough time to raise a barrier made of thick ice around himself and the civilians. His arms were crossed in a shielding pose and all his will poured into trying to keep the ice replenished as layers of the barrier melted. It was holding, for now, but the fire crashing against his wall quickly found other places to immolate. The curtains and chairs inside the auditorium became one giant blaze after only a few seconds.

“Run.” Zeke said trying to keep them calm as well as keep his own nerves settled. He risked a brief glance behind him and saw that nobody was moving, instead they decided to just stare at the impressive spectacle like it was the 4th of July.

“I said RUN!” He yelled, letting his voice bellow and carry through the room’s marvelous acoustics. After a startled jump the four made their way quickly off the stage where the battle was being held and ran for cover, Zeke didn’t bother to see where.

With one swift movement Zeke pivoted and slide to the side allowing his icy barrier to melt away. Hellion was still cackling with a triumphant roar while emptying as much of his power as he could through his palms trying to incinerate the hero who’d meddled in his affairs.

Zeke saw his opportunity in the lunatics tunnel-vision. He was now facing the Hellion at a forty-five degree angle and could see him perfectly. With one hand he trapped the maniac’s legs in a tomb of ice, with the other he let loose arcs of lightning that shrieked as they latched onto their target and danced through his nervous system. For the second time in less than twenty minutes the Hellion’s entire body locked up and started to convulse. Zeke had put extra amperage into that discharge but decided not to take any chances. He fired another arc of electricity at the Hellion, forcing his convulsions to continue, and flew towards him with all his speed. When he was a mere five feet away Zeke leaped into the air and raised his right knee, then twisted his core to the left and used his body as the driving momentous force to launch his shin into the side of the Hellion’s face.

Zeke’s shinbone collided with Hellion’s head with a loud THWAP that would have sent most men spinning onto their backs. Due to his legs being trapped, however, he only rocked backwards into a very awkward looking position. The Hellion’s muscles continued to twitch and twinge from the electric barrage he’d received and for a moment the fight was over. Zeke panted and wiped some dew from his forehead; the barrier he’d used to protect himself and the hostages had fatigued him a little bit, as had his leaping roundhouse kick. It had looked cool, or so he’d imagined, but he decided against doing such a thing in the future as it had been impractical. A haymaker to the Hellion’s temple would have likely had the same effect. He decided to leave the Hellion’s unconscious body for the authorities and turned around starting to head off the stage.

“I really hate you.” A deep voice gurgled from behind him. Zeke paused, then turned to see the Hellion raising once more and forcefully kicking his legs out of the trap they’d previously been in. “I mean not in a High School way; ‘Becky you bitch you’re wearing my dress, I hate you.’ Naw, hate like the fat kids hate salads. Hate like hippies hate soap and established government.” The man was standing and once again cracking various bones in his body like he’d just woken up from a severely uncomfortable nap.

“Hate me like fire hates ice?” Zeke quipped, charging up his right hand once more and coating his left with an icy cestus.

“Yeah that too.” Hellion said and then dove after Zeke like a linebacker. His hands had become literal fire as he swiped at Zeke with primal savagery.

Zeke and the Hellion exchanged numerous blows, each landing just as many hits as they had dished out. Chunks of ice that had shattered off of Zeke’s left fist lay around them melting as the fire continued to blaze and spread throughout the auditorium. Zeke’s body had several burns on him from strikes the Hellion had landed. Each blow he took felt like a red hot iron searing his skin.

A few times Zeke was able to knock the Hellion out either by a good solid blow or simply by electrocuting him again, but every time the Hellion just stood back up and screamed before reentering the fight with even more ferocity. The black eye-holes of the mask stared back at Zeke’s glowing yellow sockets and even though the eyes were an empty void Zeke could swear he saw raw hatred.

Then something unexpected happened. Another figure entered the fray, appearing as if from thin air, grabbed the Hellion by the back of his neck. For a moment, the Hellion kicked and dangled from the man's grasp, and then a loud CRUNCH sound came. The new figure's hand was almost completely closed around the Hellion's neck, crushing it like it were nothing more than a soda can.

The man who’d broken the Hellion’s neck with pinpoint brutality was easily over six feet tall and built like a bodybuilder taking every juice known to man. He wore a navy blue shirt with black pants, but the most peculiar part of him was what was on his head, covering his face. A silvery-grey helmet fashioned after the helms worn by the Spartans, minus the plume, sat on his head. The helmet closed around the figure’s neck and the area where the face should have been visible was completely shaded save for two sky-blue, rectangular eyes that glowed much like Zeke’s did when he used his powers.

Zeke couldn’t doubt the man was impressive to look at and was certainly intimidating. Especially having just snapped a man’s neck with the same amount of effort it took most Enns to step on a handicapped spider. Still the suddenness of the man’s arrival as well as his brutality surprised Zeke and he found himself staring at the newcomer with his mouth gaping.

The figure paid Zeke little mind and set the Hellion down gently, another strange thing for him to have done. After setting the man down he placed one massive hand on the mask and removed it. The mask, or at least Zeke assumed it was the mask, made a violent hissing sound and he could swear he heard it shriek the word “no” as it was removed. Red, shadowy tendrils attempted to keep the mask latched to the Hellion’s face as it was forcefully torn away. Once the figure had the mask in his hand and fully separated from the Hellion he stood, holding the mask in his palm. Staring down at it, he started to shake his head.

Zeke looked down at the Hellion and saw that he was a kid, easily a freshman in college with blonde hair and a very young face.

“What the hell just happened...?” Zeke had meant to say in his head but in the shock of the moment he’d said it out loud, and very loudly at that. The figure looked up to Zeke and tilted his head, but no emotion could be read behind the helmet he wore.

“Do you know what this is?” The man asked, his voice slightly modulated as the hand that held the mask outstretched itself towards Zeke.

“An incredibly creepy Halloween decoration?” Zeke felt like being sarcastic was probably not the best way to go considering what he’d just seen; between the neck snapping and the mask acting like it was the One Ring of Middle-Earth things were getting very weird. The figure didn’t respond for the moment; instead he shook his headagain, holding the mask tightly in his hand. Zeke hadn’t seen it before, probably because he’d been replaying the the past five minutes over and over again in his head, but at the figure’s side was a small satchel which he now used to store the mask.

“Interesting.” The figure said curiously. “Another Paragon comes into play just as the Mask reappears...”

“I’m sorry, what? I’m not a Paragon, and what is that thing and why was it hugging that kid's face?” Zeke asked, crossing his arms. His senses remained alert despite the fact the man had come to his aid when Zeke had clearly been making no progress. He still didn’t want to be caught off guard.

“Even more interesting... This is the Mask of Sheol,” the figure said, patting the satchel gently without taking his eyes off of Zeke. “A very powerful tool that gives Hellfire to the wearer, it also tends to drive them incredibly mad and make them virtually immortal.”

“Doesn’t seem so immortal after you broke his damn neck.”

“The mask can only repair the body so quickly, fortunately. Separating the brain from the spinal column gives you enough time to remove the mask before the wearer can get back on his feet. It is very, very old.” The figure’s feet suddenly left the ground as he floated up, crossing his own arms and now staring down at Zeke.

“So the kid didn’t really know what he was doing?” The figure nodded, “and now he’s dead?” Again the Spartan only nodded. “So why are you telling me this?”

“You seem like you’re going to have your uses, especially considering you can’t be Nullified. That development makes you even more special than the other Paragons.” The man’s voice strangely made Zeke shiver a bit. He’d been watching Zeke, apparently, and somehow knew he had so far been immune to Nullifiers. He also kept calling Zeke a Paragon which he definitely did not like. There hadn’t been any living Paragons in almost a decade and he didn’t like the idea of being one. Paragons were the first of the Supers to be hunted down because of how much more powerful they were than other Supers.

“What if I’m not a fan of being used?” Zeke snapped, furrowing his brow as static energy coursed around him, lifting him off the ground and bringing Zeke back to eye level with the Spartan.

“Then go home, stay there, continue your life just the way it is now, and stop running around trying to replace answers to things you probably don’t want to know anyways.” The man seemed to have all the confidence in the world that Zeke would do the exact opposite of that judging by his tone. Either this guy had been stalking Zeke and knew him way too well or he simply excelled at reading people, or even possibly both.

“Supers are disappearing. Some say Nulls are dragging them to Draco Industries, for some reason.” Zeke figured he could, at the very least, try and see what he could learn from this person and see if he had anything helpful to reveal.

“Some are not wrong then.” Was all the modulated voice said in response. Zeke was starting to get frustrated. He was never a fan of the ‘say little, speak in riddles’ types in books or movies and here he was experiencing just that.

“You’re not going to help me, are you?” Zeke asked while gritting his teeth. For their whole conversation, if one could call it that, Zeke had been siphoning more energy from the circuitry in the building and building it up in his right hand. His eyes continued to glow yellow as he stared down the Spartan.

“That, young man, depends entirely on how quickly you learn.” He said, and for some reason Zeke felt like the man was smiling beneath his mask. His tone seemed entirely too pleased with himself and his laconic responses.

“I’m getting really sick of this cryptic sage bit, old man.” Zeke said with a spit. He was getting so frustrated that his saliva had actually come out as a frozen bit of hale that hit the ground and sounded like a glass being tapped. In truth he had no idea how old the man was but given his “young man” quip Zeke simply assumed he was old enough to call him young.

“There’s much to be done, storm-bringer, and I appear to have less time than I anticipated. I certainly don’t have the time to explain everything.” The man floated closer to Zeke, keeping his arms crossed. His entire form represented authority and experience, but the thing that actually scared Zeke more than either of those things was his overwhelming persona of knowledge. This man wasn’t just strong he was also smart. That was almost more threatening than the strength it took to snap a Super’s neck like a twig.

“If you want to help,” he said once he was within arm’s reach of Zeke, “there’s an underground facility three miles west of the city. It’s hidden underneath a store called ‘old dragon tales.’ It’s a book shop, though it shouldn’t take long for the clerk to reveal his nature when you walk in.” The man turned his back to Zeke and started to hover away from him.

“And what am I supposed to replace there?” Zeke called out, the man steadily increasing the distance between them.

“Trouble,” the man shouted back without bothering to turn his head. “You’re going to replace a lot of trouble.” At the end of his sentence the figure flew straight up into the ceiling and crashed through it like it had been made of cardboard, leaving a man-sized hole in the roof. Zeke was left hovering fifteen feet above the ground wracking his brains trying to figure out what had just happened.

Before he knew it he found himself being shouted at by a small squad of police officers who were aiming their weapons at him and yelling at him to put his hands above his head and to land on the ground.

“Shit,” Zeke cursed while looking around to try and decide if he could take off before they shot him. His eyes twitched up to the hole his new friend had made and then back down to the officers below him. He decided to go for it and shot his body forward towards the hole. He heard gunfire behind him but was thankfully unscathed as his body was met by a lovely breeze of cool Alaskan air.

Zeke drew upon his will and summoned his customary fog cloud and raced through the city, determined to get back home and away from the college quickly. Once home he did his usual perimeter search and mentally prepared himself for the verbal lashing Kira was likely to give him about being more careful and other jargon like that. Much to his surprise she did no such thing upon his arrival, instead she seemed to be rather glued to her laptop.

“Honey, I’m home...” Zeke said hesitantly and then again prepared himself for the scolding. But again it never came, rather Kira held up one hand and made a shushing sound as she continued to read. Zeke decided not to press his luck and sat next to her at the table she was setup at.

“Everything okay?” He asked.

“I might’ve found what Phalanx means.” She whispered, still not giving him her complete attention.

“What?” Zeke hissed in disbelief.

“Well I decided that if you’re going to be stupid, you’re at least going to be informed and stupid so I’ve been doing some research. Trying to figure out what he might have been trying to tell you.” Kira’s eyes were still firmly planted on her screen as she scrolled through whatever it was she was reading. “The only thing I’ve found is... This.” She said and then turned her laptop screen towards Zeke so he could see the image and article she had been reading.

The article was about one of the earliest recorded Paragons in the United States; Phalanx. He’d fought in both world wars and had sported an American-themed set of armor. Not only had Phalanx been unbelievably strong, even among other Paragons, but he could absorb energy and use it to heal or make himself stronger and faster. Phalanx had also been a genius tactician and somewhat of an engineer. He’d fashioned, for himself, a small generator which he’d attached to his chest via steel plating that was formed like a suit of armor. This gave him an energy source to siphon energy from at any given point in order to give himself more power. The image showed Phalanx flying up in the air holding an American flag with the sun shining on his navy blue and light grey colored armor. A large red mantle and cape billowedin the imaginary wind. A steel-grey Spartan helmet with the face blacked out and two glowing blue eyes staring up into the sun adorned the Paragon’s head.

“Holy shit,” Zeke whispered and leaned in to get a better view. His eyes raced across the screen several times, examining every facet of the helmet and armor the picture depicted. The article told of Phalanx’s numerous achievements in the war and all the effort he had put into a spy network and war tactics to try and help the American troops once they were in the war. The enemy had had Supers of their own but because of Phalanx’s involvement they were actually easily swept away and put down, some even turned sides for him. Paragons seemed to have an innate leadership quality to them. Supers flocked to Paragons in a way that almost resembled brainwashing. There was something about a Paragon that made people want to follow them and Phalanx seemed to be an expert at using that to his advantage.

The page even went into a bit of a conspiracy theory that reminded Zeke very much of the kind of thing Jon would ramble on about. The theory went on to say that records of someone much like Phalanx, matching his abilities and martial prowess, appeared numerous times throughout history dating all the way back to the myths of Hercules. The theory even went on to say that Phalanx was a reincarnation of Hercules and that the Paragon is actually the first Paragon in existence and is somehow immortal and ageless. Zeke dismissed the rest of the article after reading that Phalanx had been reported dead and/or missing in 1978 and scrolled back up to the image that depicted the Paragon in star-spangled-splendor.

“This is the only thing that matches up to Jon’s usual MO, but the guy’s been dead for over thirty years.” Kira said and attempted to turn the laptop back to facing her but found Zeke’s hand had an iron grip on the screen and was continuing his examination.

“He’s not dead,” Zeke muttered in disbelief continuing to stare at the image. He wracked his brain trying to figure out how he hadn’t seen this before? Everyone knew about Phalanx, hell, Zeke had idolized him as a young teenager. The Spartan helmet was a dead giveaway as was the name in Jon’s basement, why did he miss this?

“Eh? How do you know?” Kira asked almost laughing in disbelief.

“’Cause I just met him.”

Intermission

“This just in: We have new news on the fire at Glacier City University. The hostages are all apparently alive and well and have escaped thanks to some infighting from the Supers responsible for the fire. We take you live to the scene.” Diane says while brushing a small strand of blond hair behind her ears. Her eyes are slightly bloodshot from exhaustion and large bags formed beneath them.

“Diane, I’m standing here with the survivors from the hostage situation,” says John Hamden in his urgency voice. “Sir, what can you tell us about what transpired tonight?” There are four civilians standing next to John; two men and two women. Both of the girls are definitely students but one of the men was most likely faculty.

“It was awful,” the man who looks old enough to be a professor says with a shaky voice. “The first one was throwing fire everywhere! He bound and gagged us and kept pacing, he seemed really anxious about something. He was burning things for fun, then the other guy showed up; he had blue skin and red hair. I think it was the same guy who attacked those cops! Anyway he came in and they started arguing and fighting so we used that opportunity to get away!”

“You’re all very brave, I’m glad you-“ John is cut off by the young Aleut girl.

“That’s not what happened at all! The blue guy saved us, he was the one who helped us get to-“ The audio and video are both cut and the screen is back to staring at Diane in the studio.

“We appear to be having some technical difficulties. Sorry about that folks.” Diane says after taking a quick gulp of what could only be coffee. “We’ll try to get that back up and running but until then; Puppies! Where can you adopt one? We’ll have the story when we come back, on all of Glacier City’s best humane societies!”