The Superhero's Son Omnibus Volume 3: Books 7-9: The Superhero's Son Omnibus Series, #3

By Lucas Flint

In the third and final volume of The Superhero's Son Omnibus series, get the last three books in the series in one convenient discounted ebook box set!

In "The Superhero's Vision," Bolt must fight against the brainwashing that his enemies have put him under to uncover the truth before it is too late; in "The Superhero's Prison," Bolt must break out of the country's best prison for supervillains in order to clear his name and defeat his evil doppelganger; and in "The Superhero's End," Bolt must make his way back to his universe to stop the plans of his most dangerous foe yet, plans that, if unopposed, will spell the end for every superhuman on Earth.

Also contains the bonus short story "Don't Fear the Reaper."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Secret Identity Books
• Release date: May 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393693321

Lucas Flint

Lucas Flint writes superhero fiction. He is the author of The Superhero’s Son, Minimum Wage Sidekick, The Legacy Superhero, and Capes Online, among others. Find links to books, social media, updates on newest releases, and more by going to his website at www.lucasflint.com

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The Superhero's Son Omnibus Volume 3

Books 7-9

The Superhero's Vision

The Superhero's Prison

The Superhero's End

Lucas Flint

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Secret Identity Books

Contents

Copyright

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The Superhero's Vision

The Superhero's Prison

The Superhero's End

PREVIEW: The Young Neos #1: Brothers Chapter One

BONUS SHORT STORY: Don’t Fear the Reaper A Neoverse short story

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More books by Lucas Flint

About the Author

Published by Secret Identity Books. An imprint of Annulus Publishing.

Copyright © Lucas Flint 2016. All rights reserved.

Contact: [e-mail]

Cover design by Damonza

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, send an email to the above contact.

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The Superhero's Vision

The Superhero's Son #7

Lucas Flint

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Secret Identity Books

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter One

Iawoke in my bed, blinking rapidly and sweating, and realized I was naked.

Or almost naked; a quick pat down below showed me that I was wearing my boxers, at least. It felt odd at first until I remembered that I always slept in my boxers. Why, then, did I feel so surprised about it?

I didn’t. Or shouldn’t, at any rate. Maybe I’d just had a really bad dream the night before. That would make sense. In fact, I’d been having a lot of bad dreams recently. I once dreamed about a planet exploding, for one, which I was still trying to understand. Maybe I shouldn’t have pizza before I go to bed every night.

I sat up in my bed, rubbing the back of my head, and looked around my room. It was a pretty simple, plain room, with old wood paneling on the walls, a simple light fixture above my bed, and a small flat screen TV in one corner of the room, next to the desk with my laptop and tablet. A large dresser, which had my clothes, stood on the opposite side of the room away from my desk. Even though I was alone, I thought I had heard someone else nearby, but maybe it was just a dream.

Then the door to my room suddenly opened and in walked the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my whole life. She had a nice form and figure, with flowing blonde hair that looked like something a master artist would draw. She wore a simple blue shirt and black jeans, but even with that, she looked amazing. She carried a tray with a bowl of cereal, milk, and eggs on it and kicked the door closed behind her when she entered. And when she looked me in the eyes with her violet eyes, I almost melted.

But then I realized I was half-naked and I pulled my covers up over my chest.

The girl just giggled when she saw me do that. What’s the matter, Kevin? You’ve never been that modest before.

Kevin? I said. Is that my name?

Yes, said the girl, nodding. Kevin Jake Jason. That’s your full name.

Yes … yes, it was already coming back to me. She was right. Right. I guess I must have forgotten. My memory has been weird recently and I don’t remember much.

Oh, no surprise there, said the girl. You hit your head recently, poor thing, so that probably affected your memory. But I’m sure it will all come back in time.

I did? I said. Instantly, the back of my head started hurting, causing me to grab it. Ow!

Yes, you slipped on some water and cracked the back of your head, said the girl. You survived, but we were worried it might have hurt your memory. It looks like it did.

The pain in the back of my head began to subside, so I lowered my hand and looked at the girl again. Okay, then who are you? I would definitely remember a girl as beautiful as you.

Well, I’m your girlfriend, of course, said the girl. I’m a little disappointed you don’t remember me, but I guess that’s just part of amnesia.

I have a girlfriend? I said. I eyed her suspiciously. Where’s your proof?

Well, I did volunteer to bring you breakfast this morning, said the girl, raising the tray to indicate it. That is something girlfriends occasionally do for their boyfriends, you know.

I couldn’t argue with that. Okay. Let’s say you’re my girlfriend. I don’t remember your name.

It’s Regina, said the girl. Regina Welling. Does that bring back any memories?

At first, the name just drew a complete blank. But then, all of a sudden, memories started flowing into my mind. I saw myself in a high school—my first day, based on how nervous I felt—and catching furtive glances at Regina, who sat in front of me in class. I saw another memory of myself asking her out for prom, and then another with me and her holding hands and walking through what looked like the Christmas lights at a local park. I even saw our first kiss under the moonlight, which was so perfect that it looked almost like a picture or maybe a scene from a movie.

I nodded. Yeah, yeah, it’s all coming back to me. We met in high school, right?

Yes, said Regina. John Smith High School. First day. You were really nervous when you first met me, which was really cute.

Yeah, I remember, I said. I suddenly looked around. Wait, where are we now, then? Did we graduate? Are we sharing an apartment together? I mean, not that I’m opposed to that, but—

Regina suddenly frowned, as if I had just said something depressing. No, we’re not, though that would be nice. We’re not even in good graces with the law.

I looked at Regina in worry. Are we wanted criminals? Did we rob a bank or kill someone or jaywalked?

It’s … more complicated than that, said Regina. And it isn’t just us. We’re part of a much larger group—almost a movement, really—dedicated to bringing true equality to the world. But we’re opposed by others because they hate equality.

Hate equality? I said. Who hates equality?

Regina walked over to me, and I had to admit that I liked the way she walked. She placed the tray on my lap and then sat down on the bed at my feet, her serious violet eyes looking at me.

The bad people, said Regina. The bigots. The people who look backwards to the past, instead of forwards to the future. And because they are afraid of change, they hunt us down like deer and do everything in their power to harm our goals.

That sounds awful, I said. I grabbed the spoon on the tray and ate some of the cereal, because I was ferociously hungry. Regina didn’t seem to mind; if anything, I think she thought I looked cute. "But, I don’t know, maybe it was the fall, but who, exactly, are we and what equality are we fighting for?"

Regina looked even more serious. She leaned toward me, allowing me to smell her lilac perfume, and said, in the most sincere voice I had ever heard her speak, We are Vision. And we are fighting for equality between normal humans and superhumans.

Chapter Two

Superhumans? I said, holding my spoon midway between my mouth and the bowl, letting drops of milk fall back into the bowl. Do you mean, like, comic book superheroes and stuff?"

Regina pulled back, a disturbed frown on her features. Don’t tell me you don’t even remember what superhumans are.

I— I was interrupted by a flood of memories, memories of reading about superhumans in school, going to some website called ‘Neo Ranks’ that had news and discussions about superhumans, learning about neogenetics, and a whole bunch of other things. No, wait, I remember. Superhumans have been known to the world since nineteen eighty-six, when the first superhumans appeared. Some of them became heroes while others became villains and now they’re an accepted part of every country on Earth.

Right, said Regina. And you and I are both superhumans ourselves.

We are? I said. What kind of powers do I have?

Super strength, super speed, flight, and the ability to shoot red lightning from your hands, said Regina. It’s quite the power set.

I looked down at my hands. Wow, I can do all of that? Awesome. I want to try them out now.

But Regina suddenly grabbed my wrist, making me look at her in surprise. Please, not here. You might destroy your room.

I couldn’t say no to Regina’s eyes, so I said, All right. Well, then what are your powers?

Regina let go of my wrist and sat back. My powers? They’re a bit … difficult to explain. Think magic.

Wait, can you pull rabbits out of a hat or something? I said as I shoveled more cereal into my mouth. I chewed it up and swallowed with a satisfying sigh.

That’s not what I mean, said Regina. I mean actual magic. I can teleport, I can float, I can summon fire and water … I have quite a variety of my own skills, as you no doubt may remember.

Cool, I said. Then another question occurred to me. Wait, do we have like, superhero names?

Yes, said Regina, nodding. She pointed at me. You’re known as Bolt. As for me … you can call me Incantation.

As soon as Regina said that word, something inside me shifted. I suddenly found myself feeling … not exactly distrustful of her, but I did look at her a little differently. She was not behaving in a suspicious manner, but the way she said that word—Incantation—made me trust her a little less than I did before. I wasn’t sure where this feeling came from, but maybe it was just another part of my amnesia.

Incantation, I repeated. I hated how the word tasted in my mouth, but I didn’t say that to Regina because I wasn’t sure what to make of it and I didn’t want to offend her unnecessarily. That’s a … nice word.

I wasn’t so sure that I did a good job of hiding my disgust, because Regina’s eyes narrowed when I said that, almost as if she could read my mind and so knew how I really felt. Though she clearly wasn’t as strong as me, I still worried that she might try to attack me now.

But then Regina relaxed and smiled again. Yes, it is. You always did like it, so I’m glad to see that you remember that, at least.

I gulped down another spoonful of cereal and then took a sip from my orange juice. That was close. Maybe Regina hadn’t actually noticed my disgust and had been thinking about something else.

But I still don’t understand what Vision is, exactly, I said. So we’re trying to make equality between superhumans and normal humans. What does that mean, exactly?

Regina rubbed her arm, which made her look kind of cute. What does that mean? It means that we don’t believe in neogenetics.

I frowned. You don’t believe in neogenetics? How can you say that? Hasn’t it been established that superpowers are genetic? I mean, sure, no one knows for sure exactly how it all works, but I thought it was a pretty well-established idea by now.

That’s just a lie, said Regina. In truth, superpowers are really just social constructs. Anyone can have powers. They just need to identify as a superhuman and then they will be just as super powered as you or me.

Really? I said. Huh. Why would scientists lie about the origin of superpowers?

Because there are privileged groups of people who want to oppress others, said Regina. Her grip on my blankets tightened and her voice actually shook. By pretending that superhumans are born with their powers, they seek to keep all the power to themselves. It allows them to lord over everyone and establish separate and unequal standards for society. It is unjust … and highly problematic.

Regina sounded incredibly angry about this. Her frown became an angry scowl, her hands shook, and she was staring at the wall like she was trying to burn a hole through it through sheer willpower alone. Again, I actually felt a little afraid of her, even though I didn’t have any real reason to be. It wasn’t like she was going to hurt me or anything, right?

Well, if that’s the case, then have you tried to tell people about this? I said.

We’ve tried, but the advocates of neogenetics are evil and zealous bigots, said Regina with a shudder. They slander our names, attack us, and even try to kill us. They put our leader and founder—a wonderful old man known as the Visionary—into a coma and are even holding him hostage, even though all he did was advocate for what he believed in.

That’s horrible, I said. And they did all of that just because they disagree with us?

Exactly, said Regina. It’s awful, simply awful, how they do that. It’s why we have to remain in hiding, because if we don’t, they will get us and stamp out our great Vision forever.

That’s bad, I said. So we’ve just been in hiding with the Vision for a while now?

Yes, said Regina, nodding. We haven’t really been able to live a normal life, at least since joining Vision. You can’t live a normal life as a Visionist, mostly because of how hostile society in general and the superhero community in particular is toward us.

Wow, I said. I sipped my orange juice, because I wasn’t sure what to say. I don’t remember how we joined Vision, though. When did that happen?

Suddenly, Regina rubbed her arm again and looked away, which seemed like a strange reaction to what seemed to me to be an honest and simple question to answer. It was … last year. You, me, and several other young superhumans were approached by my uncle, Thaumaturge, with an offer to join Vision. He explained it all to us and we agreed to help him, even though it would put us against the world, because he laid out the facts and reasoning behind Vision so persuasively that we just couldn’t refuse.

I opened my mouth to say that I didn’t remember that at all, but all of a sudden, memories began flooding my mind again. I saw myself, Regina, and several other teenagers close to us in age standing outside our school during night. A tall, old-looking man in wizard robes was standing before us; Thaumaturge. He was explaining what Vision was and the truth about superpowers and superhumans. I saw shocked and doubtful expressions on the faces of my friends, but I could also sense that the truth of Vision was starting to sink into their minds. Then I saw us accept Thaumaturge’s offer to join Vision, felt the fear and trembling that came with it, but also the sense of righteousness, like we were taking a stand alone against an unjust and cruel world.

I nodded. Now I remember. But my memory of a lot of things is still kind of foggy.

That’s fine, said Regina. It will all come back in due time. In the meantime, why don’t you just enjoy your breakfast? And maybe, if there’s time, we can enjoy something else together.

I might not have remembered much, but that didn’t mean I didn’t understand what Regina was implying. And, maybe I didn’t remember everything about Regina as much as I should, but hey, I didn’t mind waking up to a hot girlfriend giving me breakfast.

All of a sudden, however, there was a tiny buzzing noise and Regina pulled her smartphone out of her pocket. She unlocked the screen and answered the phone, saying, Yes?

I heard a voice on the other end, but it was too quiet and indistinct for me to understand. But Regina seemed to understand it perfectly, because her expression became less playful and more serious the longer she listened to the voice.

Finally, Regina said, All right. We’ll be there.

Regina hung up and looked at me. It was my friend and fellow Visionist, Sarah. She said that there’s going to be a Visionist meeting in half an hour and that both of us have to be there.

But I haven’t finished my breakfast yet, I said. I gestured at my shirtless body. Or taken a shower or even gotten dressed yet.

Then finish it and take your damn shower and get dressed, Regina suddenly snapped. Don’t whine to me about it.

I was taken aback by her sudden harsh attitude, but at the same time, something about it seemed far too familiar to me. It was like I had seen her snap like this before, which I suppose could have been true, since we’d apparently been dating for a while. Yet something about it felt off nonetheless.

Regina must have agreed, because she suddenly pulled back and put on her normal sweet smile. Or was it normal? Had I just gotten a glimpse of the real Regina, even if only for a moment?

I mean, you can take your time finishing up and getting ready, said Regina in a sweet voice, though it sounded forced to me. They’ll understand if we’re a few minutes late. Everyone knows about your accident, so they will just assume that you’re still not entirely recovered from it yet.

Uh, okay, I said. I’m getting tired of sitting in bed, anyway. Let me eat and then I’ll get dressed and ready to go as fast as possible.

I resumed eating my breakfast, but I didn’t focus on it quite so much. I was still bothered by Regina’s sudden change in attitude. Even though it was probably nothing, I felt a little tense around her, as if she was a wild animal that might attack me if I let my guard down. I hoped it was nothing but my amnesia playing tricks with me, but I wasn’t so sure.

Chapter Three

Regina and I were walking through the hallways of the mansion that Vision was using as its current headquarters. According to Regina, this mansion was owned by multimillionaire business mogul Joseph Hanson, who apparently was a Visionist convert who was letting his fellow Visionists stay here in order to avoid the authorities. In fact, Regina told me that this mansion was one of Hanson’s seven summer homes, located in the wilderness away from all major cities and most minor ones. The closest town was about fifty miles away, so the possibility of police or anyone from the government stumbling upon us here was miniscule.

It looked like the kind of mansion you’d expect a rich guy to own. The floor was made of sparkling clean marble, covered in lush red carpeting, while the walls and ceiling had fancy wood paneling that looked more expensive than a used car. Abstract paintings dotted the walls at five foot intervals, the kind of paintings that looked less like art and more like someone just splashed paint over a white canvas and somehow managed to con a rich guy into spending a small fortune on it.

But I didn’t really focus on any of it, because I was looking at the suit I wore. It was, according to Regina, my superhero costume; a full-body suit that was completely black, with red, glowing lines running down it. There was also a glowing red lightning bolt symbol on my chest, kind of like Harry Potter’s lightning scar, except a lot cooler. The suit fit me perfectly and was usually stored inside the watch on my wrist, which Regina told me was called a ‘suit-up watch.’ All I had to do was press a button and, presto, the suit vanished inside the watch. I didn’t know how such a small device could hold even an expertly folded suit like mine, but I was sure that there was an app for that somewhere.

Not only that, but I could feel my powers at last, too. I didn’t need to practice them or anything; they felt as natural as my hair color. That’s how I knew that Regina had been correct about me and her being superheroes. I just wished that I could remember what kind of adventures we’d been on together in the past, what kind of supervillains and crooks we’d fought together. I was sure it must have been exciting, but Regina had insisted that we had no time to reminisce and that it would all come back to me soon enough anyway.

Speaking of Regina as a superhero, damn did she look fine in her costume. She looked kind of like a magician, with a cape and a top hat and a small domino mask over her eyes. She even had a wand, which she held like a sword and I had no doubt she could use it like one if she wanted. She had changed into her costume while I had been changing into mine in the bathroom next to my room; she said she had a suit-up watch of her own, but I didn’t see it on her wrist, so I wasn’t sure where she kept her costume when she wasn’t wearing it.

Regardless, we were going to the mansion’s dining room, which, according to Regina, was where the meeting was supposed to take place. She said she didn’t know how many other people were going to be there, but that it was most likely going to be everyone else here. She said the meeting was going to be conducted by Thaumaturge, but she still didn’t know the exact contents of the meeting.

We hadn’t seen anyone else on our way to the meeting, but I assumed that was because we were going to be a little late. I had taken a little too much time showering, mostly because I was oddly grimy and had needed to get all of the dirt out of my hair. Regina told me that that was because I had slipped and fallen into the mud, but what was weird was that I had found some dried blood in my hair, and it didn’t seem to be mine, either. I hadn’t mentioned that to Regina, because I still remembered her sudden change in attitude earlier and wasn’t so sure I was ready to share that kind of information with her yet.

All of a sudden, one of the doors in the hall burst open and a guy in green and yellow spandex that looked similar to my costume stumbled out of the room. He looked like he was in a hurry; in fact, he was in such a hurry that he almost ran into me, but I stepped out of the way just in time to avoid having him run into me.

Whoa! said the guy, coming to a stop before he slammed into the wall. That was close.

Hopper, what are you doing? said Regina in annoyance. You almost ran into Bolt.

Huh? said Hopper, turning to face us. He brushed aside some of his dreads to look at me closer. Hey, it is Bolt. I thought you were still unconscious from the, uh, accident.

I shook my head. Not anymore. My memory is still shot, but I’m still doing pretty good besides that. My memory will come back soon enough.

Good to hear, said Hopper. After all, you’re the most powerful among us, so we really need you to be on your best if we’re going to succeed.

Uh, sure, I said. Sorry, but I don’t really remember you. ‘Cause of my amnesia, you know.

Bolt, this is Hopper, said Regina, gesturing at him. His real name is Dwayne Masters. He can open portals that allow him to travel from one point of the planet to another.

Yeah, said Hopper. I’m not going to use it here, though, because then I’d kill us all and you really wouldn’t like that.

I wouldn’t, I said. So how long have we known each other again?

Years, man! said Hopper, throwing his arms into the air. Don’t you remember back in elementary school? We met when we were ten.

I was about to say that no, I didn’t remember Hopper at all, until I suddenly had a flashback to when I was ten. It was my first day of elementary school and, like my flashback to when I first met Regina, I was the new kid and didn’t have any friends. I was in the cafeteria, looking for some place to sit, but all of the other kids had formed little cliques and they all glared at me whenever I asked to sit with them. I ended up sitting at a table with Hopper, plus another girl who I didn’t recognize, because apparently Hopper didn’t have any friends and neither did the girl (whose face was blurry to me for some reason).

Yeah … I said, rubbing the back of my head, which started hurting again as I remembered the memory. Yeah, I remember now. Sorry. Just my amnesia acting up again.

Hopper—who had been frowning in worry just seconds ago—smiled at me in relief. Good to hear, bro. I thought you might not remember. But of course, you’d never forget your best friend, right?

I blinked. We’re best friends?

Yeah, since we met in elementary school on the playground, said Hopper. Remember?

That’s weird, I said, scratching the back of my head again. I remember we met in the—

Abruptly, I found myself watching a new memory. This one showed me, Hopper, and the girl (who I now knew was named Sarah) playing tag on the playground at our school. Apparently, I had just joined in and didn’t even know their names until the game ended, at which point I introduced myself to them and they to me and we swore to be best friends forever from that day forward, a promise we’d apparently kept.

Bolt? said Hopper. You look out of it.

I put a hand on my head, which was starting to ache. It’s … it’s nothing. You’re right. We met on the playground.

Even though I said those words, I didn’t believe them. I had just remembered that we had met in the cafeteria … didn’t I? Maybe it was the amnesia, playing with my memories and making me remember things the wrong way. That explanation felt hollow to me, though, but I didn’t know how else to explain it.

Well, you’ll be better soon enough, said Incantation, grabbing my hand and causing me to look at her. Let’s keep going. The others are probably wondering where we are and Uncle doesn’t like it when we’re late.

Incantation suddenly pulled me down the hall, causing me to stumble before I regained my balance and followed her. Hopper followed behind me, but when I glanced over my shoulder at him, I noticed that he had a very brief but serious look of worry on his face. And not because of me; it looked like he was worried about something going wrong, though maybe he was just worried that Thaumaturge was going to be upset at us for being late.

Soon, we arrived at the dining room, where the meeting was going to take place. It was a huge and opulent room, much like the rest of the mansion, with a crystal chandelier hanging above the long oak table. The table was set with a beautiful white tablecloth that looked more expensive than the table itself. The room smelled vaguely of bacon, eggs, and coffee, most likely because they’d just had breakfast, and it looked like the table had been cleared of dishes fairly recently based on the tiny impressions I saw in the tablecloth’s surface.

Seated at the table were four other people. There was an athletic-looking girl with a mechanical right arm whose name I couldn’t remember, with another, fatter girl with short green hair sitting next to her who wore weird thick framed glasses. Sitting opposite them was a tall, angry-looking man with skin so dark he looked black, his skin covered in what appeared to be tattoos, though none of the designs made any sense to me.

And sitting at the end of the table was a man in magician robes, who I instantly recognized as Thaumaturge. He had his fingers steepled together, his gray beard flowing down his chest. He looked like your stereotypical wizard, but I could tell he was not just dressing up as Gandalf. He was the real deal, and when he saw me, he smiled.

Ah, Bolt, said Thaumaturge. He sounded like a grandfather happy to see his grandson, though as far as I knew we weren’t related. I see you have recovered from your fall. How is your memory?

Getting better, I said as I took a seat with Incantation and Hopper at the other end of the table. But it’s still kind of a blur and I don’t remember much.

Do you remember me? said the athletic girl I’d noticed before, leaning forward to look at me better.

I stared at her blankly. No, I don’t—

Without warning, I saw another memory. This time, I was perhaps a couple of years older, starting my first year of junior high with Hopper and Sarah. We sat down in the cafeteria to eat with a nervous-looking girl who looked just like the athletic girl, except minus the mechanical arm, who introduced herself as Polly. She then bonded with us over the course of the school year, until she was an accepted part of our little gang. I even had a crush on her at one point before it went away and I met Incantation later on.

You’re … Polly, I said, pointing at the girl. Right?

So glad you remembered, said the girl with a smile. Polly Jones is my normal name. My superhero name is Technical, because I am very good with technology. I even built my mechanical arm myself.

The girl held her mechanical arm up, which functioned so naturally that it was like she’d been born with it.

Cool, I said. But … I don’t remember how you got that mechanical arm. What happened to your normal one?

Polly suddenly frowned. It’s … not something I like to talk about. I already told you, anyway. You’ll remember it eventually.

I hated it whenever someone said that, but at the same time, I couldn’t argue with the obvious fact that I’d lost a lot of my memory. I wished there was some way to speed up my memory recovery, but I guessed that it wasn’t important for me to remember how she had lost her arm right now. It must have been painful, though, however it happened.

Then I looked at the girl sitting next to Polly. She was hideous, probably the ugliest girl I’d ever seen. Her mouth was stuck in a perpetual scowl and when she looked at me, I didn’t see any joy, just anger and fear. It was kind of weird, because I hadn’t even said anything to her yet.

And you, I said. I don’t remember you, either.

All of a sudden, the girl burst into tears and slammed her face into her hands, in which she sobbed uncontrollably. I started and looked at Incantation wildly. What’d I do?

Offended her, said Hopper, causing me to look at him. He was looking at me like I’d just disappointed him. Offended one of your best and oldest friends in the world.

But I didn’t mean to, I said. I just said I don’t remember her. That’s the truth.

How could you forget Sarah? said Hopper. Don’t you remember her? She was there when we first met on the playground.

I thought about that, trying to see if I could remember what Hopper was talking about. I did recall seeing a girl named Sarah in my memory of my first meeting with Hopper, but the elementary school girl I saw in my memory looked almost nothing like the sobbing teenager sitting at the table with us. The girl in my memory, for one, had normal colored hair and was a lot thinner.

But I did see the resemblance, so I said to Sarah, I’m sorry, Sarah. I didn’t mean to offend. My memory’s just been out of whack recently thanks to that accident I was in.

Thankfully, Sarah stopped sobbing. She raised her face from her hands and looked at me, but there was still anger in her eyes, like I’d just kicked her favorite puppy. O-Okay, but I still don’t like it.

Are we still friends, at least? I said. I found myself strongly disliking Sarah the more I talked to her, even though we’d been friends since childhood. Maybe it was just her attitude at the moment that made me dislike her.

I guess so, said Sarah. She wiped away her tears. Just don’t offend me anymore, okay? I can’t handle it.

Um, okay, I said. I’ll try not to do that, then. So what are your powers? I don’t remember them.

Sarah looked like she was on the verge of tears again, but then Thaumaturge threw her a brief but pointed look and she just sniffled. I had no idea what that was about, but given that Thaumaturge’s look seemed to stop Sarah from bawling again, I didn’t question it.

Telepathy, said Sarah, looking at me. She sniffled again. I can read minds and do other things with my mental powers.

She inherited the ability from her grandfather, the Visionary himself, said Thaumaturge. She’s therefore very important to Vision.

It’s also why she’s so emotional, Incantation muttered to me, so low that only I could hear her. When the Visionary was knocked into a coma and taken into custody by the government, it broke Sarah. That’s why she’s so easily offended; a lot of things remind her about her grandfather.

Ah, I whispered back. Gotcha.

But I didn’t. Not really. Something about Sarah’s sobbing seemed too … practiced, like she’d done it before. Something in the back of my memory told me that Sarah had cried like this before at some point, but I wasn’t sure if I had actually seen her do that at some point or if my amnesia was just mixing up memories again. In any case, I decided not to worry about it for now, though I made a mental note to avoid offending her again.

I looked across the table at the guy with the tattoos. Unlike the rest of us, he wasn’t a teenager. He looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties at most. He wore a dark cloak, looking like a sorcerer about to cast a dark spell on me.

Uncertain if this guy would also burst into tears if I accidentally offended him, I said, So … who are you? Do I know you?

No, said the man. Not as well as your friends, at any rate, though I’ve been in Vision for a long time and was one of the Visionary’s first disciples along with Thaumaturge.

Then what’s your name? I said. I don’t remember it.

Call me Wrath, said the man. That’s the nickname that the monks who kicked me out of the monastery I used to work at called me, anyway.

Wrath? I said. Like the sin?

Wrath laughed. Worse than that, kid, worse than that.

Wrath is my second-in-command, said Thaumaturge, causing me to look over at him. Since I succeeded the Visionary, Wrath took my place as his right-hand man. You must show him the same respect you’d show me.

Okay, I said. I looked at Wrath again. What are your powers, then?

Emotional manipulation, said Wrath. I can make you feel whatever I want you to feel whenever I want you to feel it. And you won’t even notice it until it’s too late.

Wrath sounded gleeful about that, but it sounded like a very creepy power to me. Uh, okay. Are you using it on me now?

No, said Wrath. He tossed an annoyed glance Thaumaturge’s way. Because Thaumaturge told me that I’m not allowed to use my powers on fellow Visionists.

Because that would cause unnecessary division among us, said Thaumaturge in annoyance. Only a unified Vision can change society. Thus, there is no need to pointlessly antagonize one another with our abilities.

True, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun, said Wrath. You’re sounding just like those monks that kicked me out of the monastery. Boring.

Thaumaturge rolled his eyes. We can discuss this later. For now, we need to start the meeting, now that everyone is present.

Is this everyone? I said, looking up and down the table at all of us. All of Vision?

No, said Thaumaturge. Our numbers are much larger than this, but we cannot all be in one place at the same time. It would make it far too easy for our enemies to crush us if we were all congregated in the same place at the same time.

Besides, said Wrath, folding his hands behind his head as he leaned back in his chair, we don’t need everyone for this particular meeting. We just need all of you.

Exactly, said Thaumaturge. As the Visionary once wrote, ‘not all houses need the same hands.’ We can accomplish this mission with only you five.

What is the mission, exactly? I said. What do you need us to do?

Thaumaturge pulled out a tablet from his lap and placed it on the table. Well, since we are all here, I might as well start.

Thaumaturge tapped the tablet’s screen a few times and then it projected a hologram above it that depicted a tall, confident-looking older man wearing what looked like a wig on his head. He was dressed in a very presidential-looking suit, which added to his overall important appearance.

You are going to break into the White House, where President Adam Lucius Plutarch, the current President of the United States of America and an enemy of Vision, is, said Thaumaturge.

Wait, we’re going to break into the White House? I said in shock. Why?

Simple, said Wrath. He sat upright and leaned across the table, looking at me with a disturbing grin on his face. It’s his fault that the Visionary ended up in a coma. This is our revenge.

I frowned. Really? How did that happen?

It was last year, said Thaumaturge. The Visionary was running for President under the name Barnabas Sagan. During his first debate with Plutarch, an assassin shot Sagan in the head, an assassin who had been hired by Plutarch. This assassin then took Sagan’s laptop and revealed Vision to the world, thus forcing us to go into hiding so the government couldn’t catch us.

Plutarch tried to kill his political opponent? I said. That’s crazy.

Plutarch is a mad man and a tyrant, said Thaumaturge, shaking his head. He is one of the most vile men to have ever lived. He was once the supervillain known as the Billionaire, but he never truly gave up his villainous ways even after he retired.

Even worse, he’s problematic and rude, said Sarah. Then she added, almost as an afterthought, And he put my grandfather in a coma, too.

He sounds awful, I said. But is that the only reason we’re trying to break into the White House? To kill Plutarch and avenge the Visionary?

No, said Thaumaturge. Your main goal is to get the location of our leader from the White House, though if you want to kill Plutarch too, you can.

I frowned. You mean you don’t know where our leader even is?

No, said Thaumaturge. After the Visionary was sent into a coma and his plans revealed to the world, the government took him into custody. We believe they took him to a secret government facility, but we do not know its exact location.

Believe me, we’ve tried, said Wrath. But the government really doesn’t want anyone finding him. We know he’s not in Ultimate Max, but beyond that we don’t know where they’re keeping him.

Why do we need to make Plutarch tell us? I said. Why don’t we have Technical hack the government’s systems? Surely there has to be a server out there or something that says where he’s being kept.

Hacking into government servers isn’t so simple, said Technical. We’ve tried, but they’ve beefed up their security recently. It’s not like hacking emails from some private server in a barn, you know.

Right, said Thaumaturge. We did have an agent inside the government who tried to get the files stating the Visionary’s location, but he was told that that information is on no government computer; instead, it is kept on paper in a folder in the Oval Office, which is inside a safe underneath Plutarch’s desk.

Why? I said.

Because it is more secure, said Thaumaturge. And since the Visionary’s location is on paper, it cannot be hacked by enemies.

So we’re supposed to break into the White House, kill Plutarch, get the documents, and leave? I said.

Yes, said Thaumaturge. Of course, it is fine if you only succeed in stealing the documents and spare Plutarch, but it would be best if you could do both.

I frowned. Have we ever done something like this before? The White House isn’t exactly defenseless, you know.

Come on, Bolt, said Hopper, elbowing me in the side. We’ve done loads of missions like this before, both before and after our time as the Young Neos. Breaking into the Oval Office to grab a folder will be a breeze.

Yeah, said Technical, nodding. I’ve been spending the last few weeks studying the White House’s security detail. With our powers and my technology, we should be able to break in, get what we want, and get out without being caught.

I felt a little uneasy about this. You guys sure sound confident about breaking into one of the most secure buildings in the country.

We must, said Incantation. It’s the only way we’ll be able to save our leader.

Indeed, said Thaumaturge. If we can save the Visionary, then Vision will rise again, more powerful than ever before. And no one, not even the government, will be able to stand before us.

As confident as Thaumaturge and the other sounded, I was still harboring a lot of doubts myself. Saving the Visionary seemed like a good idea, but something about it seemed wrong to me, too. And it wasn’t because I was worried about being caught, either, though that was definitely a concern. It was more like I was being told to do something that I knew was morally wrong while being told by everyone around me that it was actually a good thing. It was probably just my amnesia making me feel weird again, yet it didn’t seem to affect my memories too much, aside from the fact that I didn’t even remember what the Visionary looked or sounded like. Perhaps I just hadn’t interacted with him very much before he was captured by the government.

Okay, I said. What’s the plan?

Hopper will transport you and the rest of the team to the White House, said Thaumaturge, while Technical will stay here and disable the White House’s defenses from a distance. It will then be up to you, Incantation, and Sarah to enter the Oval Office and retrieve the documents.

Should all go according to plan—and, as we all know, it never does—you should hopefully avoid running into any G-Men, Secret Service, or miscellaneous superheroes, Wrath said sardonically. Easy peasy.

Thaumaturge just rolled his eyes at Wrath’s sarcasm. Some support would be appreciated here, Wrath, given the seriousness of the mission.

I know, said Wrath. I’m just pointing out that our perfect plans don’t usually go perfectly in practice.

Right, said Thaumaturge. Any questions?

Yeah, I said. I pointed at Wrath. What’s he supposed to do?

Wrath smiled. Backup.

Backup? I said. I frowned. You’re our only backup?

Wrath shrugged. Someone has to be.

Wrath is one of our most experienced members, so trust me when I say that he will make good backup, said Thaumaturge. Of course, if the mission goes as planned, you won’t need his help.

That would be boring, said Wrath. Very boring. Let’s hope the plan goes south so I can go north.

Wrath seemed a little too eager to help, which meant that he was either a devoted follower of the Visionary or he really wanted to fight someone. Given his nickname, I thought that there was a very good chance that the latter was the case. I didn’t see how useful his powers would be in a fight, though.

Okay, I said. When do we leave?

At midnight tonight, said Thaumaturge. We cannot do it in the middle of the day, when the Secret Service is awake and alert. And it will have to be quick, because once the White House security realizes what is going on, they will no doubt move to quickly neutralize the threat, which is you.

There’s a good chance they’ll call in the G-Men, too, given that those idiots are based in Washington just down the street from the White House, said Wrath. If you see Cadmus Smith, please punch him in the face for me, okay?

I had no idea who ‘Cadmus Smith’ was, but I nodded, because I figured this Cadmus Smith guy was probably an enemy of Vision.

All right, said Thaumaturge. Because it is quite early in the morning at the moment, you should spend the rest of the day getting ready for the mission. I will call you out to the garden behind the mansion tonight to start the mission. Until then, this meeting is dismissed.

Thaumaturge stood up from his chair and walked away, quickly joined by Wrath, who began earnestly talking with Thaumaturge about something I couldn’t hear. I assumed it was probably related to the mission, though, because I heard them mention something about ‘Visionary’ and ‘Plutarch.’

What are we going to do for the rest of the day? I said, looking at my friends.

Well, I’m going to go and study the White House’s security systems so we’ll be prepared for the mission, said Technical. She looked at Sarah. Want to join, Sarah?

Sarah nodded. Okay. But just as long as I don’t have to actually do any work. I hate computers.

What should I do, then? I said. Sleep?

Get ready for the mission, of course, said Incantation. Why don’t we go outside and have you test your powers? Playing around with your powers might help with your amnesia, which will be helpful for the mission tonight.

All right, I said. Will you be coming out with me?

Of course, said Incantation. And Hopper will, too.

I will? said Hopper in confusion. But then he suddenly shook his head and said, Uh, I mean, yeah, of course I will. I’m your best friend. Why wouldn’t I come out with you?

I looked at Hopper in confusion for a moment, but then shook my head and said, Okay. Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go outside.

Chapter Four

Afew minutes later, Incantation, Hopper, and I stood outside on the front lawn of the huge mansion that we used as our base. The front lawn was immaculately cut, so clean and short that it felt more like carpeting than grass. The air was crisp and cool this morning as well, reminding me of other mornings I’d had like this. Actually, the mansion reminded me of another mansion I’d visited once, but my memories were still too mushed up for me to recall exactly where I’d seen that mansion. All I knew for sure was that it wasn’t anywhere near as nice as this one.

But I forgot all about that, because as soon as I stepped outside onto the lawn and saw the wide-open sky, I couldn’t help myself. Like I did this every day, I shot into the sky, flying high and fast, ignoring Incantation and Hopper’s cries of surprise and calls to come back.

Despite my amnesia, I flew without problem. I turned and twisted in midair, rising higher and higher, until I stopped and looked down at the ground sprawling out below.

The mansion—which once looked so huge up close—now looked very tiny, like a toy, and Incantation and Hopper looked even tinier. The forest around the mansion looked like a sea of green, while the road that connected the mansion to the main highway snaked through them like a sea serpent. I looked around the area, but saw no towns or cities for miles in every direction at all, though I did spot a lake at the bottom of the slope behind the house.

Taking a deep breath, I then flew back toward the ground and landed in front of Incantation and Hopper. I landed well, slowing down at the last moment so I didn’t crash into the ground and send dirt flying everywhere, like I’d landed hundreds of times before.

Standing upright, I brushed back my hair and said, Man, that was fun! You guys should really try it sometime.

Well, I can’t fly, so I can’t do it, said Hopper. But Incantation can.

You can? I said, looking at her in surprise.

It’s really more like levitation that true flight, said Incantation with a shrug. And I can’t do it for as long as I’d like, otherwise I’ll wear out and get too tired.

I nodded, but then stopped. ’Too tired’? What do you mean?

I mean exactly what I said, said Incantation. It takes up too much of my own energy to levitate, so I only use it when necessary.

Is it part of your magical powers? I said. I think you called it the Old Way earlier?

Incantation shook her head. No. While my other abilities come from training in the Old Way, I could levitate before Thaumaturge taught me magic.

So it’s your natural power, then? I said.

Bolt, said Hopper suddenly, an angry scowl crossing his features. What the hell, man?

What? I said, looking at Hopper in surprise. What’d I say wrong?

You called her levitation her ‘natural’ power, said Hopper in disgust. That implies it’s biological, when we all know that superpowers are just a social construct. You almost oppressed her.

I wasn’t sure how making a simple linguistic mistake like that counted as ‘almost’ oppressing Incantation, but I realized that Hopper had a point.

So I look at Incantation and said, Sorry. I just forgot.

It’s fine, Bolt, said Incantation, patting me on the shoulder. We’ve all been brainwashed to believe in the biological nature of superpowers that we all sometimes slip back into it. But don’t do it again.

Incantation’s tone suddenly became harsh and snappy when she said that last sentence, just like how she had sounded earlier. I still wasn’t sure how to take that, but since I didn’t want to get into a fight with my girlfriend, I just nodded and said, Sure. But … can I ask what the Old Way is, exactly? I’ve forgotten about it.

Incantation looked annoyed for a second, like I’d just asked her a dumb question, but then she removed her hand from my shoulder and said, The Old Way is an ancient, almost extinct magical path that was practiced by British wizards prior to the Christianization of Britain. It was driven underground by the Christians and most of its practitioners were killed in witch hunts, so for most of modern history its few practitioners have been very quiet about using it.

British wizards? I repeated. Are you going to tell me that Hogwarts is real?

Of course not, said Incantation, shaking her head. There was never any real magical schools. The Old Way was always taught from master to student, very one-on-one, intimate training. I learned it from Thaumaturge, who is my uncle, and he learned it from an old British friend of his who died ten years ago.

Cool, I said. What can you do with the Old Way?

Many things, said Incantation. I can teleport brief distances, summon objects from far away, transmute things into different substances … it’s quite amazing. And I’m still a student; Thaumaturge can cast far more and complicated spells with it.

Can anyone learn the Old Way? I said. Like me, for instance?

Yes, but superhumans are best at it, said Incantation. Or, I mean, those of us who identify as superhumans, of course. A few of the old wizards were said to have superpowers apart from what they learned in the Old Way, so I imagine superhuman wizards have existed for a while.

"Could I learn it?" I said, putting my hands on my chest.

Incantation hesitated. I’m not so sure. What’s your background?

I blinked. My background?

Yes, said Incantation. I mean, what are you descended from?

I thought about it. German on my dad’s side, Polish on mom’s. Why?

Well, then you can’t learn it, said Incantation, folding her arms across her chest. Only British people or people of British descent are allowed to learn it.

What? I said. Why?

I don’t know why, said Incantation. I guess that was how the original wizards kept it alive or something. And, since I’m of British descent, as is my uncle, we were both able to learn it.

I frowned. So I can’t be a wizard superhero, then? That sucks.

Hey, dude, there’s no reason get down about it, said Hopper. I can’t learn it, either, due to … well, you know. He gestured at his face, indicating his dark skin color. Only Incantation really knows it, so you don’t need to feel excluded or anything.

Maybe, I said. But it would still be cool to learn how to do it someday.

Yes, said Incantation. But also, since I’m a student, I can’t teach you. You’d need to convince my uncle, who is a master of the Old Way, to teach you, but Thaumaturge isn’t taking on any students at the moment, so you’re out of luck even if you were of British descent.

I sighed. Oh, well. At least I still have my powers.

I held up my hands and red lightning crackled between my finger tips. Incantation and Hopper both stepped away from it, probably more out of instinct than anything, because I had pretty good