Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

    Every town has its little corner of paradise, a place that’ll accept you without questioning your identity. One may argue that in a city as large as Lifetown, each of its 6 districts had its own unique safe place. Yet, if you asked anyone, hero, villain or civilian alike, they’d almost certainly answer their favourite spot was the Pale Feelings Cafe, located in the 5th district of the city. The Pale Feelings Cafe was a small establishment open all week but on Saturdays, and all day but from 1 to 3, in the morning and in the afternoon. There was only one barista, the owner of the cafe, a creaking and enderman hybrid who had only retained from his Ender origin a hatred of eye contact and a freakishly tall and slim silhouette that made him look like an eldritch horror. His skin was covered in grey bark and amber sap replaced his blood. He liked to keep his black hair short and he always wore the same navy blue shirt. His name was BigB Statz and he had been running the place for as long as anyone could remember. BigB was what made the cafe so special, as he didn’t only serve usual drinks, but also custom made ones that always seemed to perfectly portray the feelings of the customer. The cafe followed a very strict schedule: at nights, villains and vigilantes were peacefully and safely welcomed to sit at one of the numerous tables. During the day, heroes and civilians could come and enjoy the joys of a law-abiding life. Nonetheless, there was always at least one patron in the shop, no matter the hour.

    Today was a cloudy day. It was seven in the morning and BigB was only welcoming his tenth customer since his night break.

“Hello there fellow citizen!”

BigB raised his eyes from the counter and was met with the bright white smile of a brown-haired man. His eyes were green and his identity was only protected by a thin black mask. He wore a jumpsuit with neon green bands on its sides. The bartender sighed. My name’s BigB, that’s written on my nametag. Yet, he quickly smiled back, though with a hidden caution.

“Hello there Trickshot,” he answered with hidden annoyance. “What do you want?”

Trickshot looked at the menu screen for some time. He was one of the top heroes of the city, an irritating model of perfection and talent if you cared about BigB’s opinion. Though BigB didn’t like a lot of heroes. They often worked with the ASPI, the Agency for Special Powered Individuals. It regulated the use of powers, often leaving power users no choice but to become a hero or wear power-restraining gear. Trickshot came every morning to the cafe, and every morning he never knew what to pick.

“I’ll prepare something. You’ll like it,” BigB said as he always did to the hero.

“Fine by me.”

The bartender turned around as Trickshot leaned on the corner. He quickly felt the warm feeling his power gave him, allowing him to feel the hero’s feelings. A tingling sense of security wrapped around him, a soft stroke against his hard bark. His power hit his customer’s emotions like a truc. Disguised anger, sadness… jealousy? At least, he gave him something he could figure out. As he started to prepare the drink, Trickshot started talking.

“Do you know what Grian told me yesterday?”

Grian was Trickshot’s boyfriend from what BigB had picked up from the morning rants the hero had accustomed him to.

“He said he needed a break . That’s basically like a break-up. After everything we’ve been through, I can’t believe he would do that to me. Like, can you imagine how unfair that is for–”

“I know. Here’s your drink.”

“Oh.”

Trickshot almost sounded surprised, like he’d forgotten he ordered something.

“Thank you.” He drank a little bit of it. “Bitter coffee. How do you know I needed that? Tastes just like Grian’s attitude!”

BigB shrugged and genuinely smiled. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, compliments about his drinks always brought him joy. Maybe not as much as the day he’d find the courage to slip salt in Trickshot’s beverage but still a lot.

“Now, are you finally going to pay me or…”

“I don’t have money, I’m sorry.” The hero’s fake smile was holding as well as the bartender’s. “Put it on the AOH tab.”

“Of course,” BigB mumbled. The AOH was the Agency of Heroes. He suspected that the only reason Trickshot came to his coffee in suit was to avoid having to pay him. Oh well, if the debt became too high, it wouldn’t be the first time he would have to go ask for payment to the AOH.

That was another thing he disliked about heroes. They thought they could get away with everything just because of their job. At least, there weren’t too many to come to his cafe in suits.

    The flow of orders became more regular after 8 am. People came and left. BigB had always liked this routine. It felt… comforting. And his creaking part meant he only needed three things to function normally: air, sun and water. The latter should have contradicted his enderman part, but he seemed to only hate water when it rained. Well, he was only a quarter of an enderman after all. At noon, a fight between two villains broke out in the second district. The whole cafe was captivated by the tv screen, and even BigB winced at the violence of the shock when one of them fell to the ground with the horrible sound of bones breaking. At one past midday, he took his break. Sometimes, he wished he could stay in his building the whole day, his whole life. Outside, he was not home. But amongst drinks and feelings… There he felt comfortable. No one in the cafe judged his appearance, unlike outside. Yet, he knew it was not good for him to stay inside his whole life. BigB settled in a park, sat on a bench that fell right under the cold sun of october. Closing his eyes, he focused on the comforting sounds of people around him. He didn’t wish he had someone to join him at all but he thought that if he took more breaks and got out more often, he could maybe make friends and maybe it would benefit his mental health. Quite ironic for someone with his ability and job to be so bad at social interactions. BigB was both creaking and enderman, he lived on contradictions like it was his second nature. And loneliness had never bothered him. However, he had recently tried to hire a server. He couldn’t always be everywhere after all, and it would allow him to welcome more people inside the cafe. No one had answered yet. BigB decided that torturing his mind wasn’t worth it and dozed off without a single concern until his break ended.

    Trickshot came back to the cafe at around five in the afternoon. He was still in suit, still smiling with this annoying fakeness that heroes carried everywhere in public.

“Have you seen Grian?” he immediately asked.

BigB didn’t even try to hide the roll of his eyes.

“I don’t know what he looks like. Step outside of the queue if you’re not ordering anything.”

Trickshot pulled out a phone from Watchers knew where to show him a picture of a small avian man with red feathers and a turtleneck of a similar color.

“He’s not answering my calls and I need to talk to him since–”

“I mean if you broke up, he may have blocked you.”

“We didn’t break up! I told you, we’re taking a–”

“I’m not a therapist, Trickshot. Talk to someone else. I don’t even know your boyfriend or ex or whatever. Now, step outside of the queue, please. If he’s missing, you’re the hero. You’re the one who should do something about it.”

Trickshot obeyed him with a sade gaze. His smile faded like a hurt puppy’s joy would.

“Alright then. Have a great rest of your day, fellow citizen.”

BigB sighed as the hero disappeared outside. He took the next order while internally cursing. That was the thing he hated the most about Trickshot. His oversharing. No, BigB didn’t need to know about the hero’s private life – which should be even more private considering his job – nor about his relationship problems. If Grian didn’t answer him, what could a simple barista do about it? BigB felt extremely tired. Maybe he should just call off his night shift… No, he wasn't going to. He never did. This night was not going to differ from the others.

Chapter Text

    Tonight was a rainy night. It started pouring right after BigB came back from his break, an hour ago. He’d gone home – which was a small flat right on top of the cafe – to change his clothes and rest his mind for a few minutes. A Netherborn hybrid was sleeping in one of the corners of the shop. BigB had let him enter and stay, knowing how rain was as deadly to them as it was to him. The room was silent, apart from the low buzzing of one of the lights he’d have to replace soon, and the occasional rubbing of the hybrid against the ground. BigB felt like he could fall asleep, even if he didn’t need to at all. Everything was so calm and he felt so relaxed. Sadly, he didn’t get to rest at all as the door opened. He immediately recognised the new customers. Two villains from the Mind Hackers, a group of villains whose powers matched their team name. They were pretty feared but they rarely appeared in public. None of them ever came to the cafe before. The first one had orange snakes as their hair, and the green skin of a zombie. A gas mask hid their face, leaving their piercing red eyes to glare at him. They wore a pink sportsuit that looked like it had gotten right out of the seventies. Their name was Snakebite. The other had cyan hair and it looked like stars were dancing in it. His blue eyes stared right at BigB’s, which made him uneased. He actually had enough mind to wear a coat and a sweatshirt on this rainy day. BigB thought he was known as Channeler, but he could be wrong. A carnival mask hid the top of his face.

“You’re looking casual for villains,” BigB said as a hello.

“Yeah ‘cause I'm going home after I get my drink,” Snakebite answered, repressing a yawn.

“Alright. What can I get you?”

“Whatever you feel is right.”

“Okay. And you?”

Channeler was looking at the sleeping Netherborn.

“Me? Same, whatever the feelings tell you.”

“The feel–? no problem. Takeout I suppose?”

“Yes please.” Snakebite’s snakes looked as sleepy as they were.

As BigB turned around, he repressed a shiver. He didn’t know why, but he felt like Channeler had discovered his power in a second, by simply looking at him. No, it couldn’t be possible. He would not be a part of the Mind Hackers if this was his power. But still, he felt watched . He let the reassuring warmth of his ability take over. Snakebite’s drink was easy to make. They were extremely exhausted. A simple tea to help them sleep would satisfy them. Channeler on the other side… He had felt joyful the whole time it took for BigB to prepare his order. But now, he was confused. As BigB was. Then, he became as sleepy as his teammate.

DId I misread him? the bartender wondered. It was impossible. He didn’t usually feel passing feelings, only the main emotions of the customer.

“Sorry, I need to remake your drink. Something went wrong,” he told the villain with an apologetic smile. Mistakes happened. He’d simply give him tea too.

But as he turned around, Channeler became joyful again. BigB paused, surprised. Well, maybe he had imagined the whole thing. It sounded improbable but it could have happened as well.

“You know what, I think it’s fine finally.”

Channeler smiled. “You work off vibes. I like that.”

“Thanks…? I guess?”

“Channeler, we do not freak out bartenders that have the misfortune to work 24 hours out of 24,” Snakebite grumbled. They sounded like a parent scolding a kid.

“20 hours actually. I take breaks.”

“Same difference.”

Snakebite paid for their drinks and even left a tip, which did not happen often with villains and heroes alike.

“You’d make great use of your abilities BigB, you know that, right?” Channeler said before his friend dragged him out the door.

BigB was almost frightened by hearing him call his name, until he remembered he wore his nametag. But the villain still gave him the creeps. He sounded like he knew everything. And that , that was something dangerous. Plus, a stranger hinting for you to join them as a villain was a trick an ASPI agent could try to pull off.

“He’s such a jerk, isn’t he?”

The bartender jumped in surprise. The Netherborn hybrid was stretching in his seat. His blond hair was a mess and his black shirt was wrinkled. His red eyes were bloodshot and black circles appeared under them.

“Sorry, I suddenly felt so happy it woke me up. Yeah, I know, it’s strange, I don’t know why that arrived either. I basically have inexistant powers so… ” 

BigB stared at him. “Why did you say Channeler is a jerk?”

“His tone of course. He sounded condescending.”

“I don’t know… I guess. I don’t mind. I’ve seen worse.”

“Oh well, if you say so.”

The Netherborn shrugged and turned to the windows. The rain was still falling as hard as it did ten minutes ago.

“I may have to call for a friend,” he sighed. “If they’re still awake…” He took his phone out and quickly tapped a text message.

“What were you even doing outside at this time?” BigB asked with a chuckle.

The other sighed again and walked to the bar.

“Man… I work at the AOH – everybody does these days – as an armory technician. I had to do overtime because one of the heroes broke their helmet. And there’s no more streetcars due to yesterday’s fight.”

“I feel you.”

He did not. He almost never took public transport and didn’t exactly sympathise with people working at the AOH. However, he felt the tiredness and the annoyance of the Netherborn man.

“BigB… that’s your name right?” the man suddenly questioned.

“No no, my name is Terry.

“Terry?”

“Of course I’m BigB,” the creaking hybrid chuckled.

“If you say so, I suppose. I’m Tango Tek! Nice to meet you.”

Tango extended his arm to shake BigB’s hand but stopped midway. BigB’s hands were covered in bark and Tango’s in what looked like volcanic rock and magma.

“I’d rather not burn you.” He seemed embarrassed. “Sorry, I tend to forget about that–”

Tango looked intensively at the bar for a few seconds, before he took out his phone again.

“I swear if they’re all sleeping…” he muttered. “Impulse is usually never in bed before four–” He suddenly looked up and stared right into BigB’s eyes, who did his best to avoid his red gaze. “You wouldn’t happen to have an umbrella I can borrow? I promise I won’t burn it and I’ll give it back to you tomorrow or one of my roommates could pass by your shop if I can’t or something like that and…” His voice faded when BigB slowly shook his head.

“I can’t give it to you.”

“Can’t? Well, too bad for me I guess. No– no problem, I’ll wait here then.”

He retreated back to his seat without a word. BigB tried to sort out his feelings towards Tango. He didn’t know if he liked him or not. He was definitely strange, surely running on caffeine and energy drinks and at some point, looked almost like he was displaying a fake confidence. The barista surely had his fair number of strange customers but Tango seemed more eccentric than anything else.

   Nothing happened for another hour. Tango fell back asleep and the clock announced four am and a half. BigB was reading a book, mind soothed by the calm sound of rain dropping outside when the door opened. A man as tall as BigB entered the coffee shop. His skin was covered in silver plates marking him as a golem hybrid to everyone’s eye. His black hair was cut into a mullet which was not very well kept. His blue pupils scanned the room and he walked up to Tango. When he shook the Netherborn man by the shoulder, he barely responded. The golem hybrid sighed and put the umbrella he was holding on the table. Then, he picked up Tango as if he weighed nothing to him, and because of the height and build difference, it was surely true.

From his counter, BigB calmly cleared his throat. “Are you his friend?” he asked quietly.

“I am. Believe me, if I wanted to kidnap someone, it wouldn’t be a guy that looks like he would unironically bite my ankles,” he said with a deadpan stare.

BigB couldn’t help but smile. He thought it totally fit what he had seen of Tango. The latter had started snoring. He was deeply asleep and clearly not about to wake up. The golem smiled back at BigB. Usually, the creaking hybrid wouldn’t let an asleep customer leave with just anyone, but he felt like he could trust the tall and burly man.

“Thank you so much for letting Tango sleep there. Rain isn’t his friend.” A reassuring sentence. He knew his name.

“I know.”

“Hope you have a good night,” the golem said as he opened the door. “Thank you again.”

Tango and his friend quickly disappeared in the darkness of the late night, the umbrella deployed over their head like a trusty shield. Deep inside, BigB hoped he would see Tango again. He had enjoyed the sound of his voice and he missed the presence of a friend during his long night shifts. Missed…? He had never had a friend during his night shifts. He had been alone ever since he opened his coffee shop, and even before. In fact, he didn’t remember ever having someone at his side. One could not miss what one never had, but one could long for what others had. Since when did loneliness bother him?

Chapter Text

    The start of BigB’s morning shift was cloudy. Sometimes, a drop of rain fell from the sky but nothing more. He was trying not to think too much about his night encounters. He still felt creeped out by Channeler’s visit and wished it meant nothing ominous for him or his coffee shop.

  As usual, Trickshot came in a little bit after seven am. This time, he wasn’t alone. Another hero with bright blonde hair followed him. He wore a blue leather jacket with wings painted on the back. His mask was fully yellow with intricate blue spirals and covered his whole face but left an opening for his glacier eyes. BigB didn’t know his name but he was tall. Not as much as him though. If anything, this hero didn’t make him fear less the possibility of having to suffer another one of Trickshot’s awfully long rants.

“Hello there, fellow citizen,” Trickshot greeted him as he always did.

BigB sighed and pointed at his nametag. “As I told you in the past, I have a name… sir. Now, what’s your order?”

“That’s not very nice of–” the hero tried to protest before he was cut mid sentence by his friend.

“Sorry about him,” the unnamed man said. A voice distorter hid his real voice but it still sounded high-pitched. “I’ll have one of your special teas please. And he’ll have an iced coffee.”

BigB gave a quick look at Trickshot but he looked mildly happy with the order.

“Can I have a name for the order?” he asked the unnamed hero.

“Oh, of course. I’m Flight.”

“Alright, thanks,” he said with his best customer pleasing smile. Flight looked nice enough and able to control his coworker’s rants – which BigB wouldn’t have minded if he actually knew Trickshot personally. “Please step over to the side.”

The heroes obliged and BigB started to prepare the drink. His power told him Flight felt excited. Since his name didn’t ring a bell to the barista, he thought that maybe he was new to the AOH and it was one of his first days of work.

  After making his tea, he started preparing Trickshot’s coffee. He paused for a moment, considering putting salt or something else in it, just out of spite, but he decided against it like he did before. BigB actually regretted this decision when he turned around to see the hero absently fidget with the leaves of one of the plants on the countertop. He put the drinks down a little bit too harshly.

“Here you go,” he forced himself to say. BigB hated when someone touched one of his precious plants.

“By the way,” Flight said, “you didn’t ask us to pay. How much is it?”

BigB rolled his eyes. “No it’s fine, I’m used to putting it on the AOH’s tab. For your information,” he added to Trickshot, “I’m going there today to request my payment.”

The hero winced and grabbed his partner out of the door before he could ask what that was about. In reality, he didn’t plan to go there, but it was actually a good idea. He didn’t know how things worked and if they would even accept to pay him but at least he’d make something of his break.

    A fight between the villains Five AM and Siren broke out near the coffee shop, forcing BigB to close it a little bit before his usual break time. He walked to the closest underground station and took the third line (named Double) to the first district where the AOH, also called Hero Tower, was located. It was not a tower at all, but rather a building complex with multiple floors. There were apartments for trainees, training rooms and a lot of other features BigB didn’t know about. He had never gone inside before yet he had a deja-vu feeling about the place. He surely saw a documentary about it when he still used to watch television, before he had his coffee shop.

 The inside of the AOH smelled clean and sanitized. The walls were white and blank, and the entry room wasn’t big nor impressive. There would be no one if it wasn’t for the receptionist. BigB could almost think he entered the wrong building. But he knew he didn’t. Once he managed to explain his situation to the person at the front desk, they gave him a badge that read “visitor” and indicated him to a floor and to where to go: the claims office. Behind them, was an elevator they told him to take. He obeyed. There was only one floor option: the first one. Once he reached it, the doors opened to a totally new building. Still white, but more modern and full of life. This new room was bigger, with tall glass panels letting the sunlight enter. There were a lot of plants here and it made him smile, even if he didn’t like the place. It was suffocating in a way, no matter how much space or greenery there was. Nonetheless, it was a nice hall, although probably built of BigB’s taxes.

   BigB walked up to the first employee he saw, a woman with short, unevenly cut hair, and asked her the direction for the claims office. She barely glanced up from the form she was reading, wrote in a penmanship so tiny she frowned at every cursive letter, and pointed to him the opposite side of the hall, almost concealed by the many plants in its way. Another elevator was waiting for him. He entered it and chose the third floor as the receptionist had told him. As the door closed, he saw someone running towards him and recognised Flight, the hero he had seen earlier this morning.

“Please hold the doors!” he yelled.

BigB considered not obeying, but he could not “antagonise” a hero in the hero tower. Flight ran in the elevator.

“Thanks man,” he breathed out. “I’m already late so you saved me.”

“No problem,” BigB told him.

“Aren’t you the barista from that coffee shop?” Flight asked him, head tilted. “BigB, right? You came to claim S– Trickshot’s money?”

The creaking man unconsciously winced. “If I can. I have receipts and everything, I hope it’ll be enough.”

“Hope so too. I mean, the AOH doesn’t joke when it comes to administration and money.”

“Yeah, at least they’re straight about one thing,” BigB mumbled.

“What did you say?”

“Oh, nothing.”

An awkward minute passed, broken by the stop of the elevator.

“That’s my floor,” BigB stated.

“Then good luck with your debts. Have a good day.” Flight sounded like he was smiling under his mask, even if his voice was still distorted.

BigB didn’t say anything back. He didn’t really like talking to heroes. There was still this fear creeping in his mind, that a single word from him could make them discover his powers. If the AOH didn’t joke around when it came to money, they didn’t either when it came to illegal use of super-abilities. 

    The third floor was a long corridor with multiple doors and benches for people that needed to wait. There was no one but BigB here, but he still started to stress when he remembered he did not take any appointments, nor checked if he had to call ahead. Since the receptionist had not told him anything about it, he had just figured out it’d be fine. After looking at the names on the door, he found the one that led to the claims office. He knocked once and waited. Not even a minute later, the door opened, revealing a rather short man. A black bandana kept his short blond hair from falling before his blue eyes. He wore a neon green button-up shirt and looked displeased with BigB’s presence.

“Are you my eleven o’clock rendez-vous? Because you’re extremely late.” When he spoke, it revealed a golden tooth in his mouth. There was a sense of familiarity to that man BigB could not quite decipher.

“No I– I don’t have a rendez-vous actually. I was told I could just come like that,” he added as a lie, hoping it would justify his presence.

The man looked BigB directly in the eyes. The creaking hybrid avoided his gaze, uncomfortable.

“Yeah, there’s not a lot of people coming so I guess you can come in.”

The man’s office was simple, one you would expect from a regular AOH secretary. There were one or two potted plants on the desk, a window that opened on the outside of the building but these were the only remarkable things about it. The man invited BigB to sit in front of him.

“So, my name is Martyn Inthelittlewood. What is your name, and what are you here for?” he asked as he took a pen and paper. “Just to warn you, if it’s about Spotlight’s paparazzis, you’re not at the right place and we can’t do anything about it anyways.”

   The creaking hybrid frowned. Martyn must have dealt with many complaints about Spotlight for him to say that. Spotlight was the number one hero and his popularity… rocketed to the skies to say the least. With no less than sixteen villains arrested, he was the most efficient hero since the last number one hero, Helios, died, and he liked to play on it. However, the swarm of photographers and fans that always came along with him caused multiple problems in the past.

“My name is BigB Statz,” BigB answered. “I came because a…” He suddenly felt almost embarrassed to claim something back from a hero. He didn’t know why though. 

“A…? I don’t have all the time in the world,” Martyn told him. He looked truly annoyed.

“Trickshot keeps putting the drinks he takes at my coffee shop on the AOH’s tab and I need to get paid.” The words flew out of BigB’s mouth like the wind during a storm. Martyn rolled his eyes and held his pen tighter.

“Yeah. That checks out. How much does he owe you?”

   BigB noticed the dark bags under Martyn’s eyes . If anything, he didn’t look as tired as he looked on the verge of flipping his desk over.

   As BigB didn’t answer immediately, Martyn continued:

“Trickshot has made his mission to bleed the AOH dry of its money. At least, that’s my theory. If only you knew the amount of restaurant dates he passed as business dinners we've had to deal with. Not your fault obviously. Still.”

“So what can you do about it?” BigB asked.

“Well, I’ll report it to my superior, who will report it to their superior, who will notify the leading board of the AOH, who will pay you back - probably - and if they’re in the mood, they’ll subdue whatever amount he owes you from his pay.”

Martyn took a sticky note from a little box in front of him and wrote a few words on it - a reminder, hopefully.

“I have to warn you though,” Martyn added. “The process may take a bit of… time.”

BigB tried to keep his smile on but his hopes were walking away every new second added to the clock behind the secretary.

“How much time?”

Martyn opened an agenda he kept in one of the desk’s drawers and flicked its pages relentlessly.

“Let’s say my boss hears about it after my lunch break - which, let’s be honest, is the best-case scenario. You’ll have around-” he turned a final page, scribbled with unreadable notes. “-six

months before the board proceeds your request. Wow. Genuinely, it’s not that bad.”

BigB shook his head. Not that bad? He was obviously mocking him.

“Are you serious?” he checked, surprised.

“There’s really a lot of complaints about Trickshot. If you were here for… let’s say… Pink Shadow, your request would be processed in a week, no more. Unfortunately, you are not and I don’t have that kind of magical power that would accelerate the processus.”

   BigB might have looked angrier than he intended to be, because as he finished speaking, Martyn discreetly pointed at a sign next to him that read ‘ Any aggression towards the AOH staff is punishable by 2,000 credits of fine and five years of imprisonment .’

“Alright.” The bartender felt like he needed to breathe fresh air and go lie in the sun. “I’ll just wait I guess.”

“Wait a minute.”

Martyn handed him two sheets of paper and a pen.

“You have to fill this form out. You can do it in the corridor. Then you’ll be done.”

BigB reluctantly took the sheets, already mourning the energy he could have saved by doing anything that didn’t include this nightmare of paperwork.

----

From: <[email protected]>

To: <[email protected]>

Object: <Records of participants in project EVO >

< As a member of the EVO program, I bid to read the files of all its participants and current members. This request is linked to the mission I have been assigned to by the leading board. You may verify with them. Herewith, you will find all of the documents regarding my authorisations and qualifications as to be allowed to set my sight on such files. I have faith that you will provide my humble request for I have been one of your most trustworthy agents. I am aware of my personal history with the EVO program; I can hereby assure you that I have distanced myself from the program. As from today, I am not in contact with any of its participants, therefore putting me able to openly check its files. I have hope that you will gracefully agree to my request.
               Yours faithfully, regards,

12,9,19,20-4, ASPI agent >

Chapter Text

    It was a clear night, one where BigB could almost hope to see the stars over the tenuous fog of pollution above the city, one that didn’t allow villains nor vigilantes to use the darkness as a proper cover. Thus, he had seen most clients come in, instead of the regular jump-in they’d used him to, not making a sound until they ordered, ominous masks covering most of their faces. BigB liked those kinds of nights. Clear nights didn’t call for villains fights. They called for a sweet tea, maybe chamomile with a drop of milk and a cube of horehound. Maybe he’d make himself a drink when taking his break. At the moment, there were only two people in the cafe, late night workers who had nothing to do with his usual powered patrons. But at least, everything was calm. BigB instinctively reached for his heart, exposed to everyone’s sight in his chest. Even through his exhaustion due to the weekly lack of sun, it was beating faster than usual. Nothing was out of place but the sap-made organ still alarmed him. He wasn’t very worried though. It happened sometimes when a pale oak tree was chopped down somewhere in the city. Not that it was a common recurrence. People knew not to mess with what they commonly called creepy trees , would it only be because of their fear of the creakings that had emigrated in Lifetown after the fires during a significantly alarming heat wave, a decade ago. BigB did not remember this era. He had always lived in town and had never seen the forest. But for the Lifers – the inhabitants of Lifetown – it didn’t matter how long creaking people had lived there or that they were relatively peaceful when left alone, their appearance still scared them. BigB put his hand away from his heart and tried to find something else to focus on. The television was broadcasting a show that had the goal of finding the identities of every villain and vigilante in town. It was not an official governmental program, and it vulgarised the violence problems of the city, often framing the most dangerous criminals as marginalized hybrid races but at least it was dumb enough to make BigB forget his trouble. If you put aside the stereotypical storytelling, obviously. The host was currently presenting some half-invented evidence showing the villain Ringleader as a potential Netherborn, something BigB found impossible to be, as he wore gloves and had no sign of lava or fire on him.

   The creaking hybrid looked over at the door. There was no one. One of the customers had left. He walked over the table to pick up the cup. Once he had cleaned it and put it back in its place, he saw that the other customer had also left. BigB was alone once again, with only the low buzzing of the television to break the silence of the coffee shop. He stayed like that for a moment, quiet and motionless, eyes lost in the void. Finally, he looked at the door again. No one was there. He blinked, and a quick and loud vwoosh sound made him jump. When he re-opened his eyes, purple particles were floating away. There was something in front of him, as tall as he was, slender and strange. It took him a few seconds to discern the creature – or rather the person – that was standing before him. They were an enderman hybrid, an albino one. All BigB could make out of their appearance was a person with long white hair, whose lower part of their face was hidden by a black face mask. One of their eyes was violet, the other red. Even if BigB could partially see them, it felt like a veil was masking his view, making it difficult for him to see more of the person than their head. He wondered if they weren’t just an hallucination, but no, they had feelings he could sense, although hidden extremely well. BigB stared at the enderman and they stared back. No one said anything for at least a minute. Then, the stranger finally talked.

“Hi.” They sounded quiet, almost too quiet. “Would you have any-” They awkwardly looked at the menu behind BigB, as if trying to decipher the words on it. “Enderman-friendly drinks?”

BigB could tell from a mile away that the person was strongly trying to make eye contact, in a way to appear more friendly, perhaps. He smiled gently and nodded.

“We have chorus juice, frappes and smoothies,” he answered, himself avoiding the enderman’s eyes. Partly because one was unsettlingly red - unusual for the person’s species - partly because their attempt at looking at him made the whole encounter creepy more than anything. “I can add other fruits, but they’re all entirely made of chorus fruit.

“A frappe is nice, thank you,” they ushered. “With strawberries, if you have.”

“I do. To take out?”

“No.”

BigB hoped he didn’t look too puzzled. Albino weren’t common in Lifetown. Endermen mostly kept to themselves, living in small communities around a few neighborhoods, away from noise and people. But it wasn’t the most surprising thing. No, it was the constant visual fog that surrounded this person that really troubled BigB. He could hardly read their feelings and their face. When the person sat down with their drink, they removed their mask. But again, their mouth wasn’t visible. BigB observed them as discreetly as he could. They made him think of one villain, named Ghost. No one really knew anything about them, and they were barely sighted anymore. BigB decided not to pay attention to them. It was difficult as they were the only customer in the shop, and as their feelings were like a black hole. There was nothing, yet it pulled BigB closer, encouraging him to try and pass the barrier the stranger had built around their mind. He had never felt such a thing and had to use his whole self-control to resist the attraction.

    Two people entered the room, pulling the creaking hybrid out of his dangerous trance. He looked once at the newcomers, then at the stranger. They were not here anymore and nothing indicated they had ever been sitting at this table. BigB focused his attention on the two men that stood before the counter. One of them, a golem hybrid, looked vaguely familiar but since he wore a cheap blue mask and sunglasses, BigB could not tell who he was. However, his friend was famous in the underworld. He was a vigilante with only a purple visor and a yellow gas mask that covered the lower half of his face to protect his identity. The remnants of bright yellow dye on the tips of his brown hair and his multiple ears piercings were unusual for a person whose anonymity was crucial to their survival. Plus, this man wore a neon yellow and purple jacket, with cargo jeans. Stealth was obviously not his forte, even if with his short height, he had more chance to be unnoticed than the golem hybrid. Finally, the two small horns that pointed through the vigilante’s hair and the spiked tail that swept the ground in his back sold BigB on who the man was: Pulsion, a vigilante that had escaped ASPI’s control for five years now. He was well-liked in the poorest districts, where his power was able to bring back electricity whenever they suffered power outages.

“Evenin’,” Pulsion greeted him.

 BigB forced his customer-pleasing smile on his tired face.

“What can I do for you?”

“Oh, we’re just meeting a friend. He said he would meet us here,” the vigilante answered, voice deeply lowered by a voice changer. “Is it alright if we wait here?”

  The creaking crossed his arms and quickly activated his power. Pulsion and his friend both felt nervous and cautious. “You’re going to bring trouble to my business. My shop is off limits when it comes to hero-villains matters. Usually, vigilantes know that.”

“I promise we’re not here for trouble!” the golem hybrid said, hands raised. His voice changer gave him a high-pitched tone that contrasted a lot with Pulsion’s.

“So are you going to buy me something or what? It’s a coffee shop, not a waiting room.”

His mind quickly drifted to Tango, who he had let sleep without asking him for any money. He told himself these were two very different cases.

The golem yawned. “Yeah, I think I need a coffee. Pulsion, anything? It’s on me.”

Something in the vigilante’s gaze softened. “What’s the ‘barista special’?”

BigB grinned. He didn’t get a chance to fully use his power for the whole day and he’d miss the calm it brought him. “You let me make a drink that’ll suit you.”

“Works for me,” Pulsion said.

  Pulsion was not a difficult guy to read, compared to the black hole BigB had been pulled in five minutes prior. He was constantly stressed, but masked it incredibly well. Something told the barista that the man was not big on tea, so he prepared a strawberry and banana smoothie, something he thought the vigilante would like. On top of that, he added whipped cream, which he fantasized with a tad of pink star sprinkles he had bought the day before. Upon seeing the drink, Pulsion’s gaze softened even more and he actually looked happy.

 “Thanks,” Pulsion flatly said.

None of the men touched their drinks. However, they occasionally threw glances at BigB. It was usual for him to be watched by customers who found his appearance strange. But he felt like this wasn’t the same. Like they weren’t watching him because of his appearance but because of who he was. Which was a strange theory, and BigB didn’t like to think of himself as the world’s center. Maybe, as vigilantes, they were wary of everyone around them.

The golem’s coffee was long cold when they left without meeting with anyone. At least, they left a big tip behind them and had the courtesy to take their untouched drinks with them, instead of throwing them away before BigB’s eyes. He reflected on this once they were gone. If his days were pretty normal, his nights had started to become more and more strange. He’d met more villains and vigilantes in this week than he usually did in a month. The barista wasn’t sure he liked that. It brought him more income but he feared it could also bring him trouble. And trouble was the last thing he wanted, with celebrity. The less attention he got, the safer he was. That said, he really needed to rest now, and it was almost his break time. BigB closed the store as quickly as he could and collapsed on his mattress as soon as he got to his apartment.

Chapter Text

     It was only seven in the morning, but there were no clouds in the sky, promising BigB a hot and sunny day where he could go outside and finally get rid of his tiredness. The cafe was empty when Trickshot came as he always did, joyful and annoying.

“Good morning fellow- no, BigB, sorry.”

“Hello Trickshot,” BigB answered, surprised the hero finally remembered his name, but too tired to force a false smile on his lips.

“You’ll never guess what happened,” he said.

“No, you’re right, I won’t.”

The hero’s photogenic smile widened. “Grian said he was thinking about giving me a second chance! I’m so happy.”

“I can see that. So, what’s your order?”

“My usual please.”

BigB rolled his eyes – Trickshot didn’t have a ‘usual drink’ but refused to call the ‘barista special’ by its name– and let his power take over once again. Unlike the mysterious stranger from the night before, the man was more of a star than a black hole. His excitement irradiated through the whole room, too bright to focus on for more than a minute. He truly felt better than he did two days ago. A cappuccino with two sugars seemed fitting for his mood.

“Put it on the AOH’s tab!” the hero said.

BigB didn’t tell him he had come to the Hero Tower to reclaim his money. It didn’t serve any purpose, knowing how long the waiting time was.

As the day went on, so did the villain versus heroes fight. They seemed to be more and more important this past week. The whole coffee shop held their breath when Ringleader got cornered by Spotlight, before getting away in a second.

“That villain takes after his mentor,” BigB heard a customer exclaim.

Rumor was Ringleader had been the apprentice of the infamously elusive Ghost. But another rumor also theorized Green Shadow and Five AM to be together – the evidence was solely based on them often getting into fights, even though Green Shadow fought with everyone and everything – and BigB found it unlikely to be true.

The morning passed quickly to the creaking’s joy, finally reaching his meridian pause, where the sun was at its highest peak. However, when he closed the door of his shop, he was met with the face he’d started to despise for only one reason: the man with the hundreds of documents to fill . Martyn.

“Wow, what’s with the look?” the yellow-haired man asked him. “I’m on my lunch break, not here for work.”

“I need my sun, that’s all.

“Of course, I just had one question.”

Then ask it already , BigB thought with exasperation. Taking his silence for a go on , Martyn didn’t wait to speak.

“Did you go to Evo Kindergarten?”

BigB thought about it for a second. “No?” The creaking frowned. He didn’t remember going to any kindergarten in Lifetown.

“Are you sure? Not even Evo Middle School?”

“I came to Lifetown when I was 16.”

“Really? Cuz I remember having a friend in that school. A creaking named BigB Statz, like you.”

“It’s a common name for us,” BigB lied. He was starting to get uncomfortable. Martyn had met him yesterday and he already thought they were long-lost friends. For him, the AOH employee was delusional.

Martyn stepped away, looking mildly hurt or surprised. It gave BigB the possibility to walk away from the door he had been cornered against.

“Alright. I’ll leave you alone now. I’ll see what I can do to reduce your waiting time. Have a good day.”

BigB didn’t answer. He waited for Martyn to disappear in another street to make his way to the park.

            Laying down, half-asleep, BigB felt the grass breath underneath his fingers. The trees sang a delicious lullaby and the sun and wind caressed his skin with the softness of a parent. Whenever he was there, next to what he could grasp of nature in this prison of concrete one called a city, his troubles didn’t exist. BigB felt alive again. He saw no judgmental gazes, heard no mean whispers. There was only him and nature. That was what he missed the most about the Pale Forest. The End had its silence, the Nether its own personality, the Overworld its cities and diverse population, but the Forest got the trees and its invisible liveliness.

  A shadow suddenly blocked his sun and took him out of his reverie.

“What are you doing laying in the grass?”
BigB opened his eyes, waiting to see a curious kid. But no, it was Tango. Who, honestly, wasn’t far from a curious kid. He seemed in better shape than back during the rainy night they’d met, which was a slight relief. The creaking hybrid took a look at his phone. It was almost time for him to come back to the coffee shop and so he gave up on protesting about the sun. Abandoning the welcoming embrace of the grass and sun felt hard but he still got on his feet.

“Recharging,” he grumbled to answer Tango’s question.

“Oh. Creaking stuff, I guess.”

“I’m not a creaking,” BigB lied with a smile.

The Netherborne man frowned. “But you– is there another species that looks like trees?”

“Yes.”

Tango closely examined his face. His eyes swiftly lit up with realisation.

“You’re messing with me!”

BigB laughed.

“I wanted to thank you,” Tango continued. “For the other night. I couldn’t go to the coffee shop yesterday, I had too much work to do and… I prefer not to be out at night.”

“There’s been a lot of villain activity recently,” BigB confirmed. “And I– I don’t need you to thank me.”

More like he wasn’t used to being thanked. Customers could be very rude and ‘normal’ people usually rejected his help. He was too weird , too scary for most of them. And in his daily life, it didn’t bother him. He liked to be lonely, though sometimes it was too much, and his appearance kept trouble away from him. Well, most of the time at least. He knew being a creaking would not save him if he faced a bloodthirsty villain.

“C’mon, that’s the least I can do.” The Netherborne grinned, revealing a mouth full of sharp pristine teeth. “It’s not like I’m giving a massive tip or whatever… yet.”

“Don’t do it, seriously.”

“You can’t stop me. That’s a threat.”

BigB found himself actually enjoying the conversation. Tango was an amazing person to talk to and both rambled about their job problems, roommates that were awake at unholy hours – BigB thought that Tango was also the type to have a messed up sleep schedule – and the annoying amounts of paperwork the AOH had. They chatted so much the creaking hybrid forgot about the hour and the next time he peaked at the clock, his break had ended more than half an hour ago. With both regret of putting an end to the talk and the insidious shame of being late, the two men parted ways. However, Tango promised to come visit him as often as he could, which strangely warmed BigB’s heart.

  On his way to the coffee shop, he could not stop smiling.

---

From: <[email protected]>

To: <[email protected]>

Object: <Records of participants in project EVO 2>

< Your request to access the files of the participants of project EVO has been denied. Due to the nature of your mission and your ties to said project, we have judged unsafe to provide you with highly confidential information. Remember that your knowledge of this program could put both the ASPI and the AOH in danger if it fell into the wrong hands.

For any future demands or inquiries, refrain from directly messaging any EVO members and send all questions to this address: [email protected]

EVO files accountant, ASPI agent. >

Chapter Text

          The night was as cloudless as the day and the moon was shining, almost bright like the sun over the city. Tango came around midnight, looking as exhausted as ever.

“I spent my afternoon working on a new prototype for Flight’s weapons,” the technician sighed as BigB handed him his coffee. “He wants me to make a gun that doesn't hurt. How does one make a gun harmless? A weapon is made to harm! And there’s still no streetcars so I have to take the subway, then the night bus and then walk to my apartment.”

“You have roommates, right?” BigB remembered. “Can’t they give you a ride?”

Tango groaned and put his head on the counter in a very dramatic manner.

“Impulse works two jobs and he works on his personal projects at night. Bdubs sleeps and wakes up with the sun, and Skizz just started to be on night shift.”

Tango took a sip of his coffee and his eyes immediately lit up. “It’s not too cold for once. I have a higher body temperature. Usually all the coffees I get are cold for me. But this one is warm”

BigB gave him a smile without mentioning that he had had to take the cup with gloves and extra caution so that it didn’t burn him.

“You know, I try.”

The Netherborn shook his head. “No, but really. I’m starting to realise how awesome this place is! I see in the menu you have endermen and Enderborns friendly drinks, you also have furniture that the Netherborns can’t burn and I’m not mentioning the dark spaces for sun-sensitive zombies.”

BigB didn’t explain half the things he’d mentioned were coincidences. The hazards of the villain-heroes' brawls around his cafe had forced him to anticipate and change his tables, in case a projectile of some sort somehow crashed into the shop. As for the presence of chorus fruits, he just liked their taste and it was surprisingly cheaper than cherries.

    The bell at the door rang, making both the men turn around. Tango immediately turned his head back as he saw who the new customers were. The first one was Channeler. This time, he wore a dark blue vest with a white shirt and his colombina mask had been replaced by a white and golden volto mask that revealed his mouth and eyes. The second man reassembled Channeler in every point, mask included, except for his black and green suit that strangely mimicked the ones heroes wore, with elastic fabric and short sleeves. BigB guessed it could only be Copycat, another one of the four Mind Hackers. His power hadn’t been a secret to anyone for months now: he had the ability to copy one’s appearance.

“I apologise in advance if any heroes come knocking at your door,” Channeler said. “Flight couldn’t stop following us.”

“As long as you don’t fight in here,” BigB answered. “What can I get you?”

“A ‘barista special’ please,” Channeler told him. 

“Just a cappuccino,” Copycat added. He looked the creaking hybrid up and down, almost judgmentfully.

 BigB stared back. If the villain wanted an eye battle, he was going to get it, no matter how much his enderman side screamed not to look him in the eyes. Copycat immediately lowered his gaze and the barista almost had a sigh of relief. Tango finished his coffee and without saying anything or even telling his friend, left the coffee shop, not before dropping a few coins in the tip jar. BigB felt hurt but he also understood why the Netherborne man could be uncomfortable around villains.

   However, he didn’t really have time to think about it, as his customers were waiting for their drinks. When BigB tried to read Channeler’s feelings, the man was as blank as a canvas. It was not the black hole he had experienced last night, but it was still confusing. He looked back at the villain. He was smiling, but now his feelings read like sadness, a deep sorrow that took over him, threatening to drown everyone and everything. The barista was sure he saw tears in his eyes. He waited a few seconds to make sure Channeler didn’t suddenly stop being sad before he started to prepare him a hot chocolate with marshmallows in it. This choice of drink wasn’t actually based on any emotions but mostly because hot chocolate was always a pleasant drink for him, no matter the weather. The anguish that came from the villain was so strong that BigB inadvertently made it too hot for his bark. As a creaking, he was pretty sensitive to heat, but thought it would be alright for a human like Channeler.

“Sorry we made your friend flee,” the villain said as he handed him the money.

BigB shrugged. “He paid for his drink at least. And you paid for yours. I suppose it’s fine.” It was not really fine.

Copycat was staring at the television that was broadcasting the latest hero news. As usual, Spotlight was the center of attention, flourishing under the cameras like a sunflower under the daylight.

“What a cocky guy,” Copycat muttered under his breath. “Heroes used to hate interviews. But between him and Trickshot…” Even without using his power, BigB could feel his disdain. Channeler on the other hand, had not an ounce of past sadness in him.

“I can turn it off if it bothers you,” the barista offered. The last thing he needed was a villain known to be violent to throw a fit in his coffee shop.

“Oh, don’t pay attention to him,” the other man chuckled. “Spotlight almost arrested him once, he’s been his nemesis ever since.”

“No no, Spotlight is not my nemesis or whatever,” his teammate protested. “He simply annoys me.”

“Right, and I’m from the ASPI.”

BigB smiled. “I mean… whenever your fights were on tv you looked like you were flirting more than anything.”

The blue-haired man laughed while Copycat violently turned his head back at the screen. Channeler finally took his cup in his hands and took a sip. Immediately, he spat it back.

“That’s too hot.” He winced. “I’m so sorry, I’m very heat-sensitive. I have a stray descent so…”

“Of course, I’ll make you another one.”

The creaking hybrid had to admit he could never have guessed Channeler was linked to strays. His skin wasn’t excessively pale and it looked more grey as if he were sick, but maybe that under his gloves, he hid skeleton hands.

“Is it better?” he asked as he handed him the second hot chocolate.

“Yes thank you.”

Silence filled the room, only broken by the sound of the television. BigB considered taking his book out as didn’t have anything to clean or take care of. However, the presence of the two mind-controlling villains – if Copycat’s power could be called mind-control – bothered him enough for him to stay on his guard.

“Why open a coffee shop at night?” Channeler’s voice covered the deafening quiet atmosphere. “I don’t remember you being here four years ago. Not even three. You moved there recently, right?”

BigB immediately paused. Did he really ask about his life? What was it with people and his privacy these days?

“I don’t have anything else to do. And I need the money. As a Creaking, I don’t get tired if I have enough sun exposure." He also needed small amounts of water, but he struggled with that as a quarter of Enderman. “And no, I’ve been in the city since I was sixteen. It was eight years ago now. I finished high school here and I went to business school. I learned the insights of being a barista outside college.”

“And before,” Copycat said, joining in, “you were in the Pale Forest?”

BigB thought about the question. He actually never talked about his past because it was all a blur. The only thing he remembered was indeed fleeing from the Forest after the fires of 20XX and being placed in an accommodation center. But he had no clear memories of his life there, except how he felt with its nature, safe and at home. A nature that had left a gaping wound in his heart.

“Yes, I was.”

“You don’t look like you went to business school,” Copycat told him. “More like the type of guy who spends hours researching some crap about the significance of holes in Shulker culture for a history major.” He had changed his appearance from Channeler’s to the carbon copy of Snakebite.

BigB took a small peak at the villain’s mindset. He was feeling playful and laughing internally.

“Shulkers don’t dig holes,” he couldn’t help but say. “Spider hybrids and Piglins on the other hand…”

“Nerd,” Copycat mocked him, now looking exactly like BigB, minus the unreplicable heart. His playful side was quickly coming out.

“You’re wearing my face, I think you’re equally a nerd.”

Channeler was not listening anymore. Instead he looked through the window with an upset gaze.

“I think Flight passed by and saw me.”

“Easy,” his teammate laughed. “He’s a rookie.”

“A rookie with wings and an unknown power. Besides, we had other things to do tonight. Come on, let’s go. Thanks for the drink B.”

He was already at the door while Copycat hadn’t moved an inch.

“I’ll join you later.”

Channeler rolled his eyes but didn’t try to argue.

“You’ll be the one to explain to Snakebite why you’re late.”

     It didn’t take a minute for Flight to rush in the cafe. By that point, Copycat had taken Trickshot’s appearance, clothes included.

“Trickhost?” Flight said, surprised. “Weren’t you at that date with– I mean the business meeting you talked about?”

“Well, you know… It’s complicated.”

“Did it go poorly?”

“Yes…” Copycat said as the hero would have.

“I’m surprised, I saw you through the window and thought you were Channeler. Hi sir– BigB, by the way! Hope he’s not bothering you.”

“Not at all.”

Please keep me out of this, the barista silently wished.

“So, were you looking for Channeler?” the villain asked Flight.

“Yeah, it’s not going well. I tracked him and Copycat to this neighbourhood.”

“You know what? I’m going with you.”

“Dude. Seriously?”

“Of course!” He took his ‘friend’ by the shoulder and started to lead him to the exit. “Come on, I really need to break something right now.”

BigB assumed that after tonight the only broken things would be Flight’s bones and ego, and he had no desire to get involved.

“Put this on the AOH’s tab!” Copycat yelled as he dragged a helpless Flight out of the coffee shop.

Of course, Channeler had already paid for their drinks. The Creaking hybrid sighed and cleaned the counter of the villains’ cups. He looked at the clock. It was almost one am and he really needed that break.

            BigB’s apartment didn’t have a lot of furniture. The kitchen, the bathroom and the small living room all looked pretty normal, except he didn’t have a television like in his cafe. However, his bedroom was only filled with a mattress without a bed and a shelf where he put his clothes. Most of them were colorful shirts and sweaters. He also owned a few casual clothes like hoodies and jeans. And of course, there was a small pale oak tree in a pot. BigB had promised himself that once it would be big enough, he’d hide his heart in it as every other Creaking did. But for now, he only trusted himself with the only organ that kept him alive. Not like he was in great danger of being stabbed anyway.

  After changing his grey and white outfit for a more floral one, BigB walked to his mattress and let himself drop onto it. Face in his pillow, he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep but he was unable to. Maybe if he finally decided to put his heart in the oak tree, he’d be able to retreat in it and rest his mind. But again, BigB did not dare to do that. Not to mention that the tree was way too small for him to fuse with its bark. In the end, he was stuck in this sad world of concrete and pollution no matter what. Watchers, he really missed the Forest. His eyes were starting to feel heavier. BigB rarely slept, and even less when he was locked inside. But tonight, he simply needed oblivion.

          When BigB opened his eyes, he found himself standing in a long white corridor. The lights are dim and there aren’t a lot of doors. Everything is foggy and strange. Yet, he knows immediately where he is: his high school, where he spent the last two years of his education. He wears a red t-shirt and black trousers that feel more like a uniform than a thing he’d wear. But his fashion used to be a lot different after all, so maybe that’s just that. A teacher comes up behind him, dressed in a dark violet overcoat. Their light green armband shows they take care of the 3 to 6 graders. The teachers here are so quiet, and they always know where every student is at all times.

“Why are you in the hallways? You’re supposed to be in ʖᔑℸ ̣ℸ ̣ꖎᒷ ℸ ̣∷ᔑ╎リ╎リ⊣”

The word is unknown to BigB. he doesn’t speak good Overworld English yet.

“In what?”

“In gym class. Come on, hurry up or you will get !¡⚍リ╎ᓭ⍑ᒷ↸… you will get detention.”

“Sorry teacher. I will go now.” Detention is never fun for anyone.

BigB starts walking to his class. He remembers where it is, how it looks. There are gym mats on the ground and a lot of different equipment. The school also has a run track but it is outside and it’s raining today. BigB knows what day it is. The memories of this one hour are still painfully vivid in his mind. He always liked the class more but it was always exhausting. The lesson has already started when he enters the room and his teacher doesn’t look happy, even though BigB can’t imagine their face. The only friend he made in school isn’t partnered with anyone yet so he goes to them. BigB is not able to remember what they looked like. The bell that announces the start of the activity rings, deafening.

      BigB woke up. His phone alarm had been ringing for ten minutes now and he already missed the re-opening of the coffee shop. Ashamed, he quickly left his room and went back to work, the dream slowly fading at the back of his mind.

Chapter Text

            The clouds had come back to hide the sun, much to BigB’s dismay. After his disastrous oversleeping last night he felt more down than ever and the sound of the rain added a sense of dread to his heart. He hadn’t seen Trickshot this morning and the TV broadcast no signs of a fight between Flight and Copycat. Overall, the lack of agitation made him anxious. BigB wished he could just pour himself a cup of something, tea or coffee, it didn’t matter. But his fear simply restrained his movements. Fear like he had rarely felt in the past. The knowledge that something bad was about to happen. He put his hands on his heart, glaring at the door, ready for someone to come in. A painful thought crept into his mind. He wanted to have company. To be able to talk to someone. Did he have enough money to employ a waiter or another barista?

    BigB spent minutes – maybe hours – in this frightful bubble. Then, the bell at the door rang and his bubble burst in silence as two men went in. The first one was tall, pale like snow with white hair tied in a ponytail. One of his eyes was red, the other hidden by an eyepatch. The lower part of his face was covered by a surgical mask. He was probably some kind of enderman. The other man was way smaller, an avian with red parrot wings. His eyes were fully black and his sandy hair fell on his neck, soft like feathers. He wore a red sweater that was probably hand-knitted. BigB had a deja-vu feeling about the both of them but kept it to himself, unable to even force a customer-pleasing smile on his face. The avian man looked around the empty cafe, before his gaze went back on BigB.

“Hi!” he greeted him. “Great weather uh?” he sarcastically added.

“I guess so.” BigB shrugged. He didn’t have the energy to make small talk either.

“Can I get, let’s say, an espresso?”

The other man started to sign.

“My friend will have the barista’s special,” the avian interpreted. “Oh and he’s an enderman so he can’t have water with it.”

“Alright. Is it a take-out?”

“No, we’ll drink here.”

BigB gave them a thumbs up. “Your name? For the order, I mean.”

“I’m Grian,” the avian said with a beaming smile.

“Great. I’ll make the drinks.”

The barista started with the Enderman’s drink. He realised he actually didn’t get his name, not that it was really important since the coffee shop was basically empty. BigB activated his power and focused on the white-haired man. Suddenly, he felt himself drawn to his mind, like the black hole he’d experienced a few nights ago, although less dangerous and hypnotizing. It took him a good minute to turn off his abilities and calm his heart down.

That’s impossible, he thought to himself. It can’t be the same person.

Unless, of course, that maybe Endermen were so reclusive not even him could read their feelings. But how many albino Endermen did he meet in his entire life? Let alone this week? No, he couldn’t start to make assumptions or try to guess his clients’ identities. His cafe was a safe place for everyone for a reason. And so BigB walked up to the table the men had sitten at and warned them he couldn’t make the barista special today. The Enderman didn’t seem to mind as he ordered chorus juice instead.

    As BigB was making Grian’s espresso, something clicked in his mind. He’d seen this man before. Or maybe heard about him. When and how, however, he did not remember. But there was something so familiar about him. He cursed his bad memory.

“Thank you so much,” the avian said with another smile and, as he handed them the drinks, their hands brushed for a fraction of a second. None of them commented on that.

“No problem.”

Grian’s friend seemed happy with his drink at least. BigB felt bad that he hadn’t been able to serve him the thing he wanted but even without his power activated, he felt the black hole of his mind pulling him.

“Uh, one more thing,” Grian called BigB before he could return to the counter. “Have we met before? Because you seem pretty familiar to me.”

The creaking hybrid couldn’t help but sigh his annoyance. What was it with people and deja-vus this week? However, he had to admit that this time, it was reciprocated. Even the Enderman discreetly facepalmed at the question.

“Usually, I would have answered negatively, but yeah, I feel like I know you too.” BigB thought for a moment then he remembered. Trickshot’s boyfriend – or ex? He didn’t know at this point – was also an avian named Grian. “I think I know your partner.”

“Partner?”

“Or ex? I can’t keep up with his rants during my rush hours.”

“Oooh.” Grian’s face lit up with recognition. “Scar. right. He comes here?”

“Scar?” Oh no, BigB didn’t mean to learn about Trickshot’s real name. “I guess that’s what he’s called.”

“He has lots of scars, he uses a wheelchair and makes strange references?”

   BigB wasn’t that sure Scar and Trickshot were the same person anymore. Trickshot had lots of scars, sure, but he could stand without problem. Though, with the progress of technology these past few years, it wouldn’t be surprising to have walking aids supporting his legs so that he could stand for long periods of time.

“He’s also got green eyes?” Grian added, trying to help BigB’s memory.

“That, I remembered. However, if we’re talking about the same person, it means he told me a lot about your… erh… relationship.”

The avian man hid his face in his hands, embarrassed.

“It’s complicated,” he answered. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

At the same time, a group of customers, probably tourists, entered the coffee shop, chatting and laughing together.

“I have to take care of that. But it was nice talking to you,” the barista told the other man.

“Me too. See you later.”

BigB didn’t answer as he was already walking back to the counter. However, he then saw that Grian was in an excited conversation with his friend, smile even more widened and wings flicking behind his back.

----

From: <[email protected]>

To: <[email protected]>

Object: <Records of participants in project EVO 3 >

< I must admit I do not understand why my request was denied. I am more than aware of the rules I have to follow and I never broke them once, although I understand you may also be concerned about the numerous warnings I have received – which, I have to add, have all been forgiven due to my good attitude these past years – but I have always been careful with the information I have been entrusted with. Be assured that I will talk about the issue with the leading board and they will grant me access to the files.

Yours faithfully, regards,

12,9,19,20-4, ASPI agent >

Chapter Text

           The night had fallen with the rain and had done nothing to ease BigB’s mind. He had questions for everyone around him now and his anxiety only increased with each of them. Half an hour before his nightly break, Tango came back with an apologetic smile. His flames looked smaller than normal, surely due to the weather.

“I feel bad for yesterday,” he confessed. “I should have said something but I really don’t like villains. The Mind hackers… their powers are frightening.”

“That’s understandable.”

BigB was only happy that he was not alone anymore. The coffee shop had felt too empty today and he’d needed to talk with someone.

“Y’know what, we should exchange phone numbers,” the Netherborne added with his usual smile. “If I have to wait a whole day every time I want to talk to you, at a time where I can’t even stand straight, it won’t work.”

The Creaking hybrid stayed quiet for a whole minute. “I feel… honored,” he said. He never had the number of a friend before

“Honored?” Tango laughed. “I’m happy you feel that way. I mean, I’ve told you before but you look like a good guy. Really. We should hang out more. Oh right. You never stop working.”

“Because you don't?” BigB snapped back, a bit hurt by that last statement, even if it was true.

 “Touche. I’m a workaholic too.” Luckily, he didn’t take it badly. “C’mon, give me your phone and I’ll put my contact in.”

BigB couldn’t help but smile. The anxiety feeling was only in the back of his mind now and with Tango, he felt safe.

“Alright, I have to go now,” the engineer told him. “Before the rain gets worse.”

“You have an umbrella?”

A pause.

“I can go on break now and come with you to the station. I’ve heard streetcars started running until two am again.”

“You’re the guy!” Tango exclaimed. “A life saver, really.”

BigB smiled again. “I’m putting on a hoodie and we can go.

He closed the coffee shop not with the sadness of the night before but with the joy of this moment.

    The closest streetcar railway was not even three hundred meters away but they both talked as if they were on a ten-hours journey to the other side of the country.

“And because of a guy that had a similar job to mine stealing some useless materials,” Tango was saying, “they reinforced security measures and I can’t even take my blueprints home anymore. That’s why I always do unpaid overtime.”

“Dude, you work at the AOH. They’re famous for that,” BigB mocked him.

“I know… ah, I hate whoever that thief was. They made my job much worse.” He looked at the screen that displayed the arrival of each streetcar. “Only a minute. You should go back already. There’s going to be a storm tonight.”

“I can wait,” BigB protested.

“And I won’t forgive myself if you get wet because of me. Though you’re a Creaking, it’d be fine.”

“I’m a quarter of an Enderman actually,” his friend whispered.

“B. It's worse. Go back home.”

BigB would have wanted to spend more time with Tango, but he was not going to argue on that. If rain managed to get inside the cracks of his bark… The thought of that sharp pain made him wince. Both men separated and BigB walked alone into the badly lit up streets.

            Tango was right. The rain was heavier and the sleeves of his hoodie were already wet, like all his right side. But for now, his skin was untouched. BigB stepped quickly but carefully between the puddles, making sure first and foremost his face and hands did not suffer from the water. He felt glad the front of his coffee shop was always luminous. But as he put the key in the lock, he heard something coming from the alley next to the building. It sounded like a whimper, maybe one of an animal. Intrigued yet anxious, he did the stupidest things years of reading horror novels told him not to do: he went to check. At first, he thought there was nothing, but as soon as his eyes got accustomed to the darkness he noticed the enormous form. With horror, BigB realised it was a wolf, the most gigantic wolf he’d ever seen in his entire life. When it noticed the Creaking hybrid, it growled at him, mouth bloody like its white fur was. He watched, paralysed with fear as another silhouette, human and wounded, difficulty rose from behind the wall. All BigB could see of them was their bright scarlet eyes. It was enough for him to know their, or rather her name. The whole city lived in fear of one day being the next victim of Five AM, the most dangerous villain of this era. BigB had never thought he’d have the misfortune of ever encountering her and her wolf, which he’d heard was named Tilly. Even with the rain pouring down on her, he guessed it was not water that was coming down her stomach.

“Go away,” she hissed. There was a warning tone in her words that chilled his sap. He was only too aware that his heart was in his chest now. The villain directed one of her sickles at him. 

“O– okay, no need to threaten me– But I have to warn you though, I live next door so me leaving won’t do much. There’s a window that is directly over that all–”

Five glared at him. She looked ready to kill him, and her wolf seemed eager to get a new chew toy. BigB silently cursed his need to explain himself.

“If you warn anyone, if you call for help, I will kill you,” Five AM added. The civilian opened his mouth to answer but the wolf growled again, this time at something behind the man. “Shoot,” she whispered.

BigB turned around. He heard the sound of footsteps and light illuminated the alley, temporarily blinding him. Quickly, two hands took him by the collar of his hoodie and pinned him against the wall. The shock made him drop the umbrella to the ground. Now, only his hood was protecting him from the rain. When he opened his eyes, he was met with a green visor and a small blade pointing at his heart. The light allowed him to see his attacker’s face, which wasn’t much since he had a black mask around his mouth and nose. He wore a black outfit with neon green bands that reflected the light and was smaller than BigB, yet his strength wasn’t forgettable. As for the blade, it was a small knife made entirely of shadow. This last detail betrayed the man’s identity as Green Shadow, one of the most famous heroes of the AOH.

“Green, that’s a Creaking,” a distorted voice said. “You can’t physically hurt them since they put their hearts in trees.”

Green Shadow rolled his brown eyes but didn’t let go of BigB. The latter could see that there were the outlines of a human form hiding in the shade behind the hero but couldn’t decipher anybody. However, there were a lot of chances the other hero was Pink Shadow, Green's teammate. They had the almost identical power of making weapons from darkness, except Pink’s hereditary capability allowed her to also fuse with it. Green Shadow’s granted him jump augmentation.

“Whatever Pink. Now,” he started as he stared in BigB’s eyes, “we saw Five AM go this way. In this precise dead end.”

“There’s blood on the ground. She was definitely there,” his teammate stated.

“See? Where is she?”

BigB was starting to get uncomfortable but every time he tried to divert his gaze, he always fell back in the hero’s stare.

“If you don’t answer, we’ll have to take you in for questioning,” Pink Shadow warned him

“I didn’t– I mean yes but– it’s not… I’m not–” Suddenly, the civilian was at a loss for words. Fear had taken over his body so badly his power activated all alone in an attempt to get him to calm down. It didn’t help as he was suddenly engulfed by the stream of feelings that came from Green, amplified by his grip on him. Frustration, anger, the thrill of the hunt and the disappointment of the disappearance of the prey. If BigB knew heroes weren’t perfect angels, he wouldn’t have imagined one could be so blood-thirsty. The flow of the man’s emotions hid those of his teammate.

“I may not be able to kill a Creaking without his heart,” Green Shadow continued when BigB didn’t answer, “but you guys can still choke and your bark is still damageable.” He added actions to his words and his hands wrapped around BigB’s neck. His own terror was added to Green’s lust in an overwhelming torrent he could not calm down.

“If you knock him out we won’t get answers.” Pink spoke in a sweet and calm voice.

The water was starting to penetrate the Creaking’s clothes and he was aware of the urgency of the situation, but he could say nothing to help his case. He had the bad feeling that nothing he said would save him.

“Green, I’m serious.”

BigB’s mind was starting to slip away when the hero finally released his throat and he fell on his knees to the ground, coughing and wheezing. His hands landed in a puddle and the pain, like acid on the skin under his bark, made him want to scream. With increased terror, he realised orange particles were flying from his body back to his heart. The link that showed where his vital organ was if he got hurt. His hope that none of the heroes had seen them disappeared as he heard Green Shadow chuckle.

“Well, looks like that’s my lucky day.”

BigB thought that some people used to be executed in the position he was in when the blade pierced through his back to his heart. He panicked as he saw the shadow sword disappear from his chest, and then nothing. His body went down on the concrete ground of the street as the two heroes walked away.

    BigB remembered it was raining that day. The reds – the older kids – like him usually had the training room for themselves in the morning, but not today. Today, there were younger kids, dark greens. BigB looked at them with pity. One of them didn’t look like they could be more than six years old. The kids were struggling with their powers. This group had mostly attack abilities and they had to hit a target. BigB’s group was located right next to them and he could easily take a look at them.

“BigB, focus,” His friend said between his teeth. The teenagers were training to fend off an enemy armed with a knife. The weapons themselves weren’t sharp but they could easily hurt, like paper. His friend was holding the knife. “The younglings will be fine if you don’t look at them.”

Easy to say when he wasn’t the one feeling their fear and discomfort non-stop. BigB winced when he heard one of the Teachers – Watchers – yell at one of the kids that couldn't quite get a hold of his power, a nine year old boy with golden hair and eyes like the sky.

“They’re too young for that,” he whispered to his friend when he swooped at him. The other rolled his eyes. “And we’re not? Come on, don’t worry they’re fine. We’re fine. But we won’t be for long if our Watcher doesn’t see us train.

BigB sighed and accepted to dance at their rhythm. His friend was far too quick, and the Creaking teen soon found himself lying on the ground.

“Are you doing it on purpose?” he said with exasperation. “Seriously B, make an effort. You’ll get punished and then you’ll complain, but it’ll all only be your fault.”

“You’re just stronger.” In reality, the feelings of the kids were bothering him.

BigB was about to get up when he felt something wrap around his neck and raise him in the air. He tried to get out of the strange grip, feets kicking the void but he was stuck. He could not breathe anymore. He knew he was choking. The dark greens were fearfully screaming around him and BigB himself was panicking.

“Let him down you idiot!” His friend was yelling at someone BigB could not see. At least, he knew it wasn’t a punition from his Watcher or else his friend wouldn’t have spoken like that.

“I– I’m sorry… I– I don’t know how–” a scared voice answered. It sounded young. But that wouldn’t matter if BigB did not get air soon.

It didn’t take a minute for him to be released. It was followed by him falling onto the ground where he wheezed, trying to breath. His neck hurt a lot. The last thing he saw was the golden-haired kid crying, with the red mark of a slap on his cheek. Then, darkness took him away.

            Now, BigB is waiting in a small room with no furniture but the chair he is sitting on. The Watchers went in an hour ago already and they haven’t come out since. There are no noises and he feels alone. He wished someone, even a stranger was here with him. He knows they are deciding his fate. The Watcher Cult is the main religion in the whole Overworld, but they took their names, placing themselves as the children’s Gods, people that can decide if they live or if they die. Maybe that, when it will be BigB’s time to go to the Grim Reaper, they will stop it if they think he has not deserved eternal rest. He wishes they would do that for him because he doesn’t want to die yet. That’s why they’re having this meeting, he remembers. Because he is afraid to die. He is not like his friend, or the other children here. Dark greens, light greens, yellows and reds all fear the disappointment of their Gods more than death but he doesn’t. And he wishes he did. Finally, a Watcher gets out of the room. It is the one that teaches his class.

“Your request has been approved,” they say. “There is only one condition.”

That simple word makes BigB afraid. Conditions with Watchers are always unfair.

“What is it?” he asks with dread.

The Watcher walks to him and places their hands on his head. BigB forgot what happened next.

Chapter Text

            Tango had been staring at the clock for ten minutes now. It was quarter to seven, almost the end of the shift he’d started at seven-thirty this morning and he really didn’t want to focus on these weapon blueprints. But time was passing so slowly. All he wanted was to pass by the hospital to get news on BigB. Four days that he’d been in a coma now. They hadn’t known each other for long but he really cared for the Creaking hybrid. And if Skizz hadn’t been in the area? If the ambulance had taken two more minutes to arrive? These thoughts were turning in Tango’s mind non-stop. He missed BigB and his coffee, always set to the right temperature, always there for him. He looked at the clock again. Not even a minute had passed. With a sigh, the Netherborne man put his head on the table. There was no one in the lab. He used to work with a partner before. The same partner that had stolen from this same room and got fired. With both their powers combined they used to have half the work load Tango got now.

“Why’d you have to do that Impy…” he whispered.

“Talkin’ to yourself now?”

Tango jumped off of his stool as he heard Green Shadow’s voice. The hero was standing right behind where the engineer had been seated.

“How– how did you enter?” he stuttered as he got back up.

“The door. Where else?”

Green was holding his visor in his hands. When he looked closer, Tango noticed it was broken in half.

“Can you fix it for me? I have a night patrol in two hours.”

It took all of Tango’s self control not to snap at him. “What happened?”

“I took a punch to the face.” Green paused for a second. He almost looked guilty. Almost. “During combat practice,” he added. Tango imagined he had an annoying sorry grin under his mask.

“Why do you wear your precious gear during practice?” The Netherbone man took the broken visor from his hands. “I already told you Pink and Spotlight, to stop doing it. I’m not some kind of magical repairman, I have to make you a new one at this point.”

Green Shadow sat on the table, which only aggravated Tango’s anger.

“I mean, it’s not like you have anything important to do, right? And it’s your job.”

Tango took a last look at the clock and said goodbye to his freedom. Unless…

“I’ll do it. Get out now,” he said.

            Tango did not, in fact, fix Green Shadow’s visor. As soon as his shift ended, he ran out of the building and called Skizz, his roommate.

“I need you to pick me up immediately.”

“Why? Are you in danger?” his friend answered. “I’m pretty busy at the mom–” His voice was cut for a few seconds but he resumed quickly after. “Listen, I’m in the subway right now. I already have to bring Impulse back home.”

Tango rolled his eyes. “Can’t he bring himself home? I have to go check on B.”

A loud sound that resembled a train’s horn echoed through the phone and deafened him.

“Skizz! Are you in the subway or in the subway’s tunnels?”

Silence this time.

“Skizz?” Tango was starting to panic. “Skizz! Answer me.”

“Sorry,” Skizz finally said, “I dropped the phone. If you need pick-up, ask Bdubs. But the visitor hours must be over n–”

The phone call ended right there. Tango sighed. Skizz was right, he should have gone to the hospital sooner. Maybe he’d left his job early for nothing but at least he’d be able to enjoy his evening. Well, that was unless Skizz and Impulse were in the subway’s tunnels and got run over. Idiots, the bunch of them. And Bdubs was not any better. Between his roommates, Tango was the only one with a stable work and non-destructive hobbies, which was actually surprising to them all.

    For once, Tango’s commute to his apartment didn’t seem exhausting and endless. If you didn’t mind the number of people that took the tramway at the same time, it was even almost enjoyable. Tango lived in the fourth district of the city, a mess of buildings and neon lights, way more futuristic than the others but it was not as wealthy as the fifth or the first districts. People from all dimensions flooded the streets at all hours of the night and day but the occasional (weekly) power outages would discourage anyone to live there, unless they were trying to escape the eyes of the ASPI regulations or didn’t have enough money to go elsewhere. Tango was luckily here for the second reason, but he knew none of his roommates followed the same logic. Indeed, he was sure Bdubs and Impulse had enough money to move to another part of the city, if it wasn’t for the ASPI’s avoidance of the neighbourhood, which was caused by the strong presence of vigilantes that didn’t take kindly to the presence of any non-powered and powered agents. And it was not like they cared enough to dispatch more heroes anyway. Tango lived on the third floor of a small building, near the tramway station and right above a nightclub. At night, the noise often prevented him from sleeping. The elevator was working for once and he got the feeling this was going to be a great night. With chance, he could even watch television and get a good night of sleep.

    But as he opened the door of his shared apartment, he immediately guessed that something was wrong. The lights were flickering, and there were a few spots of fresh blood on the wooden floor. Tango carefully followed the trail that led to the small and only bathroom they had. The door was ajar and he could hear whispering coming from inside. When he opened it, he was met with the threat of a giant thorn, ready to pierce his throat.

“Oh crap, sorry Tango!”

The voice belonged to Bdubs, a small man with tanned skin, bright blond hair and a face only a mother could love. He made the thorn disappear in an instant. Bdubs was not a registered power user. That was his reason for living in the fourth district. Next to him, laying on the floor, the reason for the lights flickering, was the vigilante Pulsion. Tango could see there was blood on his right side, blood that stained Bdubs’ hands.

“Fuck it, Impulse,” the Netherborne man cussed.

Impulse, Pulsion, the man that stole from the AOH, Tango’s roommate were all those things, but first and foremost his first source of problems. As much as Bdubs was when he turned into the vigilante Marigold, or as Skizz had become by following his friends into this dangerous line of work.

“You’re early,” Impulse said. His voice was pretty weak. “Don’t worry about the blood, I just got shot. Skizz has gone to the pharmacy to buy disinfectant.”

“Can you stop doing that to the lights?” Tango asked him.

“Can’t control it.”

“Okay fine. Why did you get shot?”

Impulse gave him a grin.

“Me and Skizz went looking into the CCTV control building. Apparently, Trickshot and Pink Shadow were there too.”

“And Trickshot shot you?”

“I told them it was a bad idea!” Bdubs exclaimed. “But they’re both too stubborn for their own good.”

Tango crossed his arms and glared at his friend.

“With what did he shoot you?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes! I made his bow, remember?” Tango was actually terrified of the answer Impulse could give him. “There’s trackers in some of his arrows, the ones with the yellow tips. I designed them so that it’s difficult to take them out, to force people to keep them as long as possible.”

Impulse made a painful wince as he tried to straighten up.

“I don’t know what color the arrow was but I took it out when we arrived in the district.”

“And now you’re bleeding out on the floor,” Bdubs complained.

“Yeah well, never said I was a smart guy. But in the… the end…” Impulse paused for a moment, eyes closed. He really seemed to suffer from his wound. “... we didn’t even get what we were looking for…”

“And that was…?”

The vigilante stared at Tango with a pained gaze. “Skizz still wants to know who hurt your friend. He’s pretty upset he ‘let’ him get hurt.”

Ah yes, the reason BigB had been helped this soon. It was both because of and thanks to Tango. But how could he explain to his friend that he had asked Skizz to add him to his village, to the list of people he was connected to, simply because he felt uncomfortable about Channeler. Tango would have sworn BigB had a mind-related power – surely kept hidden from the ASPI’s eyes – and the Mind Hacker Syndicate had a history of either killing people with similar powers or trying to force them into villainy. That was why its four members were feared, even if their goal was still unknown. If BigB ever woke up, he was not going to let him know, not now. But maybe one day he’d do it. One day.

“That’s ridiculous,” Bdubs said, pulling Tango out of his thoughts. “What would you do if it was a hero?”

“A hero?” Tango frowned. “Why would a hero do that?”

“C’mon, you’re not a fool. Heroes make lots of mistakes too.”

“Yeah but BigB doesn’t seem to be able to be suspected of any crimes .”

Bdubs shrugged. Silence filled the tiny room, only broken by Impulse’s heavy breathing.

    It didn’t take long for Skizz to come back. He looked angry at himself, but also at the whole entire world. Like many iron golems, he had to wear a special bracelet that was supposed to contain his strength, but it didn’t erase his rage whenever one of his friends got hurt.

“Next time I see Trickshot, I’ll break his neck,” Skizz said as he started to stitch up Impulse’s wound.

“Same thing,” the vigilante said. The lights were slowly coming back to normal.

“What about Pink?” Tango chimed in. “Wasn’t she there too?”

“Pink’s a sweetheart,” Bdubs told him.

“Yeah, can’t hurt her,” Skizz confirmed.

Impulse hissed with pain but managed to grin. “I disagree. I think Pink is as bad as– Skizz! That hurt!”

Tango could almost smile at the simple banter of his friends. Yet, he didn’t feel like it. In four days, he almost lost two friends. Even if Impulse’s injuries weren’t that bad, he couldn’t fathom what would have happened if Trickshot had shot him somewhere else. Actually, he could very much imagine it, the consequences if the AOH discovered his identity, or that Impulse hadn’t just stolen insignificant objects but much more and that still, Tango provided him with everything he could justify the disappearance of. Indeed, he lived in constant fear and the stress had been eating him from the inside. Decidedly, the criminal life was not for him. And now he needed out of this suffocating atmosphere.

“I’ll go clean the blood on the floor before it’s impossible to get rid off,” he declared, though the others paid little to no attention to his words.

There were times in which Tango wished he lived a normal life. Yet, he didn’t regret meeting his friends. Well, mostly at least. He’d pass on Bdubs’ eerie sleep schedule – a normal one, something all the others lacked – and on Skizz’s suffocating hugs, and on Impulse’s strange work hours. But it was part of their charm too. BigB made him doubt what was true, and had this strange life and unreadable emotions, but it was also why Tango liked him. Ah, here he was again, losing himself in his mind, dwelling on other things than what he was supposed to do. The Netherborne pinched his cheek and forced himself to take the mop out of the closet.

---

From: <[email protected]>

To: <[email protected]>

Object: <Records of participants in project EVO Final>

< This last email is a warning, Listener 4. Your noncompliance towards our directives has also been signaled to the leading board. Insubordination will not be tolerated.

EVO files accountant, ASPI agent. >

Chapter Text

         Fog. Fog. Fog. Everything was foggy. BigB had not had a clear thought in days and had been slipping in and out of consciousness constantly. He knew he was in a hospital room, in a bed, and that sometimes his hands and back hurt. There were also doctors coming in his room regularly. But the most important thing was that he felt like he missed something. But what? Sometimes, he remembered echoes of what happened. Green Shadow, mostly. And Five AM’s wolf. The fear he’d experienced. Nothing could make him forget these memories. Nor the ones he’d suddenly gained back. Though he guessed these ones were bad dreams. Surely, they were just nightmares.

    A few days later, BigB recovered enough for doctors to explain everything to him. After being attacked by only him knew who, he’d fallen under the rain. His hands and his back had suffered major burns but the rest of his body was intact. Except, of course, for his heart. Had the blade been a few centimeters left, he would be dead.

“You should keep your heart away from your body,” a nurse told him, “with the rise of criminality and villany, it’s safer.”

BigB agreed with them. But it felt so wrong to remove something that was a part of him from his body. He was also informed an investigation had been started, mostly to know if a villain was involved or not. To that, he wasn’t sure how to answer so he just said he thought so, and that he remembered Five AM was present. The perspective of a hero-lead investigation was the last thing he wanted, especially given how his last encounter with one ended, but what choice did he have? Lying? The danger was too great and he simply wished he was back in his coffee shop.

            Tango came by the next day, as the sun was shining bright outside. He looked relieved and happy to see BigB alive.

“One of my roommates was passing by and found you,” he explained.

It didn’t even make him smile. Unlike his friend, BigB wasn’t pleased by his visit. Tango was part of the AOH, maybe not as a hero but it was enough for the creaking hybrid to feel wary of his presence. If he told him who attacked him, Tango would never believe him, or he would put the blame on him.

He only found the strength to ask him one thing. “Which hero is affected to Five AM’s track?”

The Netherborne tilted his head, surprised by the question.

“It’s obviously Green Shadow, isn’t it?”

It took all of BigB’s self control not to let out a sob. He didn’t want to appear weak in front of Tango. He couldn’t let anyone know who almost killed him or else… or else what? Nothing, actually. No one was going to care. Not the AOH, not the police and not the public opinion who only really liked their precious vigilantes anyway – oh and Spotlight, everyone loved Spotlight. Yet, BigB felt like his words were trapped in his throat.

“You know, you can always try and ask for police officers to interrogate you, instead of a hero,” his friend said. “Though, if it’s really Five who’s responsible for what happened to you, I doubt Green will let anyone else take the case. They really hate each other. Not as much as Siren and her though.”

“Thank you…” BigB whispered even if he didn’t exactly mean it.

            Another day passed, a day full of pain and nightmares. He was pretty sure he never had nightmares before, then why start now? He didn’t understand his mind or his body anymore. He felt so… so… He was feeling something. And again, he didn’t know what. After so many days passed unconscious, his body felt new again, like he had to relearn everything. It hadn’t even been two weeks but it was still so much. The dreaded visit came during another sunny day BigB would have preferred to spend outside. He was reading a book Tango had brought him, some story about an old king whose kingdom had been destroyed by his enemies, and his knights hunted down until the very last of them. A tragic tale of fate and betrayal. When Green Shadow entered his room, BigB thought he was going to cry. The simple sight of the hero terrorised him. He’d never felt as helpless as he did back in that alley, conscious his end was near. His heart started to beat faster in his chest and he put his hand on it. It was covered, but what if Green was there to finish what he’d started? Defenseless, the civilian would not be able to stop him, or even run away.

    The hero didn’t even seem to recognise him. He simply closed the door behind him, introduced himself and the reason for his presence.

“I told the police officers before,” BigB found the courage to say. “I don’t know what happened.” Lying was his best option, he’d decided. Lying to a hero wasn’t on his list of reasonable actions but he decided it was necessary for his survival.

“But you saw Five AM?” Green sounded more annoyed than anything.

“Yes I did. I don’t remember much but I know there were two more people, hiding in the shadows.”

“So she wasn’t alone? Please sir, be coherent.”

BigB bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t mean to say this. Of course not. He was not crazy.

“The villain was alone… or with her wolf I think.” Behind his visor, Green rolled his eyes. “And then the two people arrived. They were really, really, hidden by the darkness though. I don’t know what they looked like.”

The hero frowned and looked at the papers he was holding. “It says you were attacked on the XX/XX/20XX?”

The civilian man nodded. His fear was starting to get a hold of him again and he was doing all he could not to sob.

“Near your residence in the fifth district, the street next to the…Pale Feelings cafe?”

BigB nodded again, like a man ready for his execution.

“Hum…” They stared at each other for what seemed an eternity. “Well, that was not helpful at all. For now, don’t talk to anyone about this. Just to make sure you stay safe, of course. Oh, and if you… recall anything, just make sure to inform us. We need trustworthy citizens.”

“Of course,” the Creaking hybrid whispered as Green Shadow left the room.

And on that, they thought the same way. Some things were better left unsaid and BigB would never look anything more than your usual loyal and patriotic civilian.

   BigB childishly shut his eyes. Sleep. He wanted a good sleep under the afternoon sun and to feel the grass under his fingers. The hospital room was devoid of any greenery, only plastic, surrounded by sterile white furniture and sterile white walls. It was artificial and it made BigB want to gouge his eyes out. Only human cities could produce such horrible landscapes, of white and grey, a sore for the gaze. At least, he was happy he was alive, because if he had to die at the hand of a hero or villain, he didn’t want it to be in this place, but in the Pale Forest, his true home. His heart ached at the thought of his made-up memories, the ones he’d imagined to replace what his mind forgot. Maybe he had a family waiting for him, yet he strangely didn’t wish to see them again. Maybe they looked for him, terrified to see their son disappear one day suddenly. However, today was not the time to reminisce old stories. BigB soon fell into a deep sleep, full of fearful dreams and restless.

Chapter Text

            BigB had been discharged a day earlier, as clouds started to hide the Sun once again. During his stay at the hospital, both Tango and Skizz had visited him and he’d grown fond of the Netherborne’s roommate. He was loud, loved bad jokes but he was also a good listener and eased some of his worries easily. Skizz wasn’t working as it was Sunday and gave him a ride to his coffee shop. Luckily, nothing had changed but some of the food had grown stale and he’d spent the whole day putting everything back in order, with the intent of re-opening on Monday. As he’d put his heart in it, BigB had also placed the small Pale tree in the main room, so that he could see it at all times. It didn’t comfort him much. Moreover, his hands still hurt him more than his back and he had trouble keeping up with the rhythm of rush hours. But nothing could make him forget his fear. A fear that did everything except disappear when the night fell.

     The clock quickly rang midnight – hour of the ghosts – and with it, his terror reached its peak. The bell at the door sounded like the sign of his execution as Channeler entered the cafe. He was followed by a woman wrapped in a green cape. She walked confidently, orange hair resting on one of her shoulders, face fully hidden by an emotionless black mask.

Channeler smiled and greeted BigB enthusiastically. “I thought you died or moved out. Glad to see you’re not gone.”

BigB winced at the mention of death. He had been on the verge of dying after all.

“This is Siren, a friend of mine.” The villain pointed at the woman.

The barista had heard of her multiple times already. Another member of the Mind Hackers and the newest villain of Lifetown. She waved at him.

“Are you going to bring all the villains of the city to my coffee shop?” BigB tried to joke, though his mind was somewhere else.

Channeler chuckled. “That’s a project.”

“Would be funny,” Siren added with a point of amusement in her voice. “I’m sure we can do that as a life goal.”

“Too much chaos,” BigB told her. “I don’t like that. Anyways, what can I getcha?”

He just wished for them to go away, to leave him be.

“A baris-”

BigB stopped Channeler immediately. “With all due respect, that is out of the question.” Right now, he didn’t feel like handling the villain’s everchanging mind, even if it got him in trouble. “I don’t have enough stash for it,” he added.

His power, now always alert and drowsing, caught a glimpse of disappointment.

“An iced latte then?”

“The same for me,” Siren said.

This, he could make. BigB tried to focus on making the drinks. He quickly glanced at his tree. Everything was in order and yet, he couldn’t shake away the fear off of him. The two villains did not say a thing the whole time. The Creaking hybrid’s power activated suddenly, like a defense mechanism to calm him down except it didn’t work at all. The whole room was tense. Even Channeler. Suddenly, BigB felt the same pinch to the heart he felt every time a pale oak tree was taken down. He turned around to put the first drink on the counter.

“Uh, can I have less ice please?” Siren immediately said, almost embarrassed.

“Of course.”

She has a soothing voice, he thought.

Onto the second drink now. Nothing different from the first, if it wasn’t for the fact that he felt more reassured now, for no reason he could think of right now. BigB gave the villains the last latte.

“Thank you so much,” Channeler said. “Once again, I’m happy that the cafe is open again.” There was some kind of nervousness in his words. The Creaking hybrid noticed a leaf, pale and grey, had grown, or rather had found its way in the man’s hair. He made the remark to Channeler. The villain plucked – he meant picked – it off with an embarrassed smile and BigB watched them leave the room, just like that. He sighed. It was just a calm night, and everything was fine.

    It took him until after his break to notice his heart wasn’t in the tree anymore.

⚃

            As soon as Skizz parked the car, Tango jumped out of his seat and ran into the coffee. BigB was there, panicking before a small pale oak tree. Its trunk looked like it had been carved in, like something had been taken out of its core. BigB was pacing quickly. He took Tango by the arms, nails digging into his flesh.

“Someone took my heart! he yelled, as if mad with fear.

Skizz gently pulled him away from Tango.

“Are you alright?”

“No, no of course I’m not alright!!” The Creaking hybrid pushed the iron golem away and kneeled before the tree. “My heart got stolen and I didn’t even notice it,” he said as he burst into tears.

Skizz took BigB in his arms again and this time, he accepted the embrace. Skizz seemed angry and worried at the same time.

“Who?” he half-whispered.

BigB stayed quiet and Tango moved forward. The hole in the tree had been made in a hurry and remnants of yellow-orange sap stayed here and there.

“The same person that stabbed you?” Skizz asked again.

“No! Of course n–” The man stopped himself. “I said I don’t remember who… attacked me. Don’t ask me again.”

His friend frowned but agreed.

“I think I know who did.”

Tango knew Skizz was only waiting for the identity of the thief or thieves to immediately go confront them.

“You can’t help me with it though…”

The roommates exchanged a glance. Their ‘veteran’ vigilantes friends could help with it.

“Why not?” Skizz said.

“It’s…” It took time for BigB to find his words. “It’s a villain,” he quietly admitted. “And I just don’t want to go to the police. I suppose it’s hopeless…”

“Of course not!” Skizz got up and forced the Creaking hybrid to do the same. Tango rolled his eyes. He agreed with the latter on one thing. The police would be of no help. The Hero Tower on the other hand… He remembered the mountain of work he’d delegated these last few days and thought that no hero would want to help him right now. Moreover, he wasn’t really friends with them, except Flight. But he was too young and inexperienced to help.

“You have a link to your heart, no?” Tango suddenly said, remembering what he knew about Creakings.

“Yeah. But even if we find it, there’s still Channeler to take care of.”

“Channeler!?”

Now, Tango really wanted to punch himself. He knew the villain was up to something, turning around BigB’s cafe like a polar bear following its prey.

“Even if it was Spotlight that stole your heart, I’d still go and fight him,” Skizz told him, hands on his shoulders.

His friend managed to crack a smile. He wiped his tears away and stretched.

“Oh no,” Tango said between his teeth. “B, you’re not thinking of confronting Channeler too? It’s suicide. He may be with the whole Mind Hackers Syndicate!”

“I have to try. I don’t want to live in fear.” BigB shivered as he said this. He was obviously terrorized. Tango thought of what he would feel if his fire was taken away from him. Probably not as bad as BigB felt, but he wouldn’t be happy either and he’d want it back.

“It’s suicide…”

“Then go home,” Skizz said. “I’ll leave my phone’s location on.” He didn’t add for you to tell Impulse and Bdubs.

Tango’s voice cracked. “I don’t want you to be killed foolishly.”

“Ah! It takes more than a few hypnotists to kill me,” the iron golem laughed. “I promise we’ll be fine.”

BigB closed his coffee shop and Tango entered Skizz’s car. He watched them walk away with a ball of fear blocking his throat.

⚃

            BigB and Skizz had walked until dawn, following the orange trail of particles that connected a creaking to his heart. They had arrived before a building in the second district. The trail clearly entered it. It was a two floors house, with red closed curtains and an imposing wooden door, in the style of an old Victorian mansion.

“That’s a vampire’s lair,” Skizz joked between two yawns.

BigB’s legs were sore but he was in no way tired. He felt somewhat anxious and yet calmer.

“Now what do we do?” Skizz yawned again.

BigB ignored him and climbed the three steps. Without missing a beat and before being discouraged, he knocked. Strangely, he felt confident enough that he was in the right place, that he was supposed to be there. The door opened and he heard a faint melody coming from inside the house. There was a man on the porch, a man who looked exactly like Channeler if it wasn’t for his unmasked face and his yellow-orange eyes. He wore a green jacket with a white shirt and smiled as Channeler smiled. BigB could hear the singing was louder now, and he somehow knew he belonged here. He pinched himself and the particles flew over to where the man’s heart should be.

“You’re late,” he said, inviting BigB to come in.

The latter followed him inside, without even looking back at Skizz.

Chapter Text

           The morning sun peeked through the curtains of the classy dining room BigB was tied in. What a fool he was. He should have never knocked. Siren’s voice had stripped him of any will and control of his body. It was a horrible experience, reminding him of his helplessness against Green Shadow. Now there he was, sitting before a table, in front of the man that looked right like Channeler, the man who stole his heart and not in a romantic way. Was he a Creaking too? He didn’t look like one.

“I haven’t gagged you, but if you try anything, I will,” his captor warned him.

BigB’s power revealed he wasn’t feeling anything. Which was almost impossible. Was it the man’s damned power?

“I’m Scott, but you know me as Channeler,” the villain said.

I don’t need to know that, BigB thought. The less knowledge he had, the less he was involved and therefore safe.

Of course, Channeler – maybe he should call him Scott since he was dressed as a civilian – wasn’t done talking. “You can’t tell but I’m a quarter Creaking,” he explained to his unwilling listener. “I was born with no heart. By some miracle, I’m alive. Yay?” BigB rolled his eyes. “But like you, I need water and sun to survive.”

Scott reached under his shirt. The other noticed he wasn’t wearing gloves and that his hands were totally covered in bark. No doubt his arms and chest looked the same. Scott pulled out BigB’s heart. He was holding it with extra care.

“So thanks for the heart I suppose…?”

That made the Creaking hybrid see red and he finally spoke up. “It’s not yours and it can never be. A heart isn’t something you can exchange.”

“Yes it can. There’s ways of doing it. It happened before. However, at first I wished to use it as bait, not wear it.”

Scott knew. BigB could see it. He knew his powers.

“You can see people’s feelings, right?” the villain asked, confirming his deepest fears. BigB nodded slightly. “Even through walls or at a distance?”

It was true, but he used to be much better at it. In the past, he could even identify people by the way they felt emotions. One of his teachers’ anger was stinging like a scorpion, but his at the time best friend’s was more like a wave brushing on the shore, volatile and quiet. To add on, BigB was obviously reluctant to reveal such information.

“Yes,” he answered nonetheless, aware of how little choice he had.

Scott grinned. “I knew it. Don’t worry, I have no reason to tell the ASPI about it.” The yet was unsaid but clear. The issue of the conversation couldn’t be distinct.

“My power is to transfer one’s feelings to another, without being able to see them. I can do that to myself. In my case, feelings include pain. That’s why I’d like to welcome you into our little syndicate.”

It didn’t take a second for BigB to refuse. There was no way he’d become a criminal.

“There’s a thing we plan, but we need someone who can scout ahead for us. With powers like yours, you’re the perfect match. If you’re not too good at looking forward, we can help you with that.”

“What do I gain from this?” The barista had no intention of accepting, but he still wanted to know if there was a way he could trick Scott.

“As sad as I’d be to let your heart go, I’m willing to give it back to you. You’d also learn new skills, new ways of using your powers. It’s a thing that we can always upgrade.

“And what’s the thing you want to do?”

Scott smiled again and put a finger on his mouth. “It’s a secret.”

BigB wished he hadn’t asked the perks of joining a wanted villain syndicate known to kill people that had powers similar to them. In fact, he was even surprised it hadn’t been their intention with him. But Scott seemed pretty fond of his powers – and his heart – so maybe that was it. Hearing he could have his heart back was also very tempting.

“If you’re worried about your coffee shop, don’t be. We’ll pay you.”

Oh Watchers, why was he more and more tempted? BigB knew he wasn’t going to be happy about this choice, but the simple sight of his sap in another’s hands made the skin under his bark crawl. Scott seemed to be waiting for an immediate response. The turmoil playing inside his head was torturing him, his doubts crushed his mind and he feared the choice he was about to make 

“I… accept,” the barista finally said. “But as soon as the deal is done, you give me back my heart.”

“Deal.”

The villain got up and freed him. They looked at each other for a moment, without speaking a word.

“Let's warn the others of your temporary admission then.”

            Scott led BigB to the ground floor, where the whole Syndicate was waiting for them. Contrary to their teammate, they were in full villain outfit. Snakebite’s snakes were sleeping and she was serving coffee to the others. Copycat had lazily copied a man with dog ears and brown hair, dressed in medieval fashion. Scott saw him and raised an eyebrow.

“A theatre actor I saw perform once,” he explained.

Only Siren looked fine, but her mask, lifted so that only her mouth could be seen, probably hid her fatigue. BigB suddenly felt very intimidated, being in the presence of villains reputed to be cold-blooded killers. They had all come to his cafe once, it didn’t mean they were his friends. He had all the reasons in the world to fear and doubt their intentions.

“Don’t tell me we stayed up all night for nothing,” Snakebite told her teammate.

“I’d like to sleep at least ten minutes before I go back to my boring old job,” Copycat added. The deep voice of his copy suited his complaint.

Channeler put his hand on BigB’s shoulder.

“Not at all. We came to an agreement. Everyone, welcome BigB Statz into the Syndicate.”

Polite claps came from Snakebite and Siren.

“Does it mean we get free coffee?” the latter asked as she drank from her cup.

“Absolutely not,” BigB told her. Mingling with villains was questionable. Being their ‘private’ barista was out of the question. She only looked mildly disappointed.

“Not even a little discount?”

“Oh Watchers- no!”

This sentence seemed to shock Scott.

“Nobody says that anymore,” he stated. “Why don’t you say oh my gods?”

The Creaking hybrid froze in place. He’d never thought about it. In his school, everyone used the expressions he did and no one questioned it.

“It’s not that outdated,” Copycat added to his support. “I use it too. All the time.”

“Shut up, Hamlet actor.” Siren chuckled at Channeler’s nickname.

Snakebite held back a yawn. “Can we talk about gods and words another day?”

Please, BigB begged in his mind. He wanted nothing more than to go back to his home and curl up into a ball. Not question why he did or didn’t say some things. 

Agreements rose from the two other villains and Channeler was given no choice but to let BigB go. He didn’t ask him not to denounce them, and the Creaking hybrid knew it was useless to do so. He preferred not to put himself in danger by going to the police. To add on, they surely intended on watching him from afar. A perspective that didn’t rejoice him, obviously.

     Outside, Skizz had been waiting for him to come back. He was pacing back and forth, looking around as if he was preparing for someone to attack him. Yet, as soon as he saw BigB, he hugged him tight.

“Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” Skizz hit his head with the palm of his hand. “I’m dumb I know they didn’t… Did you take your heart back?”

BigB looked at his friend with a sadness that threatened to overflow him. He was ashamed of himself, terrorised to lose his life if the Syndicate decided so.  They had his life in his hands and it gave him a déjà-vu feeling he couldn’t quite understand.

“I want to go home,” he whispered.

It took a few minutes for Skizz to answer.

“Sure thing Boppers.”

The nickname could have almost made BigB laugh. Almost.

Chapter Text

            The sun fell down on the city and the customers started to rarify. After the events of the morning, it felt strange for BigB to work as if nothing happened. But the truth was, he still needed money and not working wasn’t an option. His hands hadn’t stopped hurting at all and sometimes, the phantom pain of his missing heart came to haunt him. But he couldn’t rest. He had to work. Clouds hid the stars tonight, like an odd warning for misfortune. Maybe it was why, when he saw Trickshot cross the threshold, he felt even more on edge. The hero displayed his usual grin, walking as if the world belonged to him. Deep down, BigB was aware of his small admiration for him, the way he managed to keep his confidence no matter what. It was a thought he was not ready to fully admit just yet. Moreover, he made him afraid like any other hero.

“Coffee man! You’re working again! Where were you?”

Of course, Trickshot hadn’t changed a bit.

“Sick leave,” he told him.

The hero made a sad face. “It’s been two weeks. I had nowhere to get good drinks.”

Obviously, it was an exaggeration. Or so BigB thought.

“Anyway, can I get a barista special?”

The Creaking hybrid took a deep breath. “Actually, they’re off the menu now.” It was a decision he’d taken this morning. A safer bet. To add on, he didn’t need this anymore to nourish his power, as it now was always alert, ready to jump to warn him of a newcomer.

“That’s unfortunate.” Trickshot didn’t look moved at all. “Coffee then. Whichever you want. I have a night patrol. Seriously, why am I the one they chose for that? I don’t see in the dark like Spotlight!”

“Spotlight can see in the dark?” the barista said as he prepared the coffee. The power of the number one hero had stayed mysterious for years. BigB didn’t believe he had something as lame as night vision.

“...he’s a dog after all.”

“Can dogs usually see in the dark?”

“I don’t know! Do I look like a dog owner? I’ll let you know I am a proud cat dad!”

“Who’s a proud cat dad?” a voice echoed in the room.

The two men stared at the entry, where Channeler stood. BigB let out the longest sigh of his life and glared at the villain. You could have waited until he’s gone, he thought. Channeler wore only a thin mask tonight, one that could easily reveal his identity. A part of BigB wanted him to get arrested, the other one feared the outcome of such an event.

“Channeler, what a delight,” Trickshot said with a sweet voice.

“I’m not here for trouble,” the third man answered. “But I have to warn you, Hero, my team is waiting outside. This is a fight you cannot win.”

Against all odds, Trickshot loosened his stance and took the coffee cup BigB was holding for him.

“I don’t even have my bow,” he sadly said. “Not that I couldn’t beat you without it, of course.”

Tension filled the coffee shop as they glared at each other, waiting for the move that’d set fire to the powder keg. After a long minute of complete silence, Trickshot’s watch rang. Annoyed, he looked at the time and gritted his teeth.

“Eleven already? That’ll be for another time, Villain.”

Channeler gave him a nod and stepped away from the door to let the hero leave. Just like before, Trickshot didn’t mention any payment to BigB, who guessed that during his recovery no progress had been made on his refund request. Then, Channeler – who he wanted to call Scott, as this name was less strange – chuckled.

“The others are late,” he admitted. “Or rather I’m early.”

BigB didn’t even question this statement. He was more angered by Trickshot for now.

    It didn’t take five minutes for the rest of the Syndicate to arrive, fully dressed up in their usual villain clothes. Tonight, Copycat had taken the form of some young adult with blond hair and yellow avian wings. He reminded BigB of someone, but who? Snakebite’s snakes seemed more numerous than before, more active too. As for Siren, she was the same as always, confident, head pridefully raised like a challenge, an invitation to a duel.

“Close the cafe,” Scott said to the barista as they all sat down at one of the tables. “We have a lot to talk about.” the sap heart was beaming through his shirt. BigB didn’t like being ordered around, but it was true that if a customer came in, he’d have trouble explaining why he was making friends with villains.

“Can we have coffee?” Snakebite asked him.

“Is it going to take all night?”

The look on Scott’s face told him that yes, they were probably going to take another one of his nights for Watchers knew what. And so BigB served everyone coffee before sitting down next to Copycat.

            Scott didn’t say a word for a few minutes. Everyone was waiting as quietly as him. Siren moved in her seat, uncomfortable.

Finally, the blue-haired villain pronounced the fatal words.

“We are going to attack the Hero Tower.”

BigB’s head started to turn. He felt dizzy and anxious.

“Why are you trusting the newcomer won’t betray us so easily?” Snakebite immediately said, obviously talking about BigB. “Channeler, I usually would have nothing against something like that but why so soon when we just added someone to our group? It’s only been a day! You’re crazy and I’m off the deal.”

“Me too,” Copycat added, rising off his seat. “I will not be a part of a suicide attack.”

Siren shook her head with disappointment – for who? As for BigB, he was frozen on the spot, unable to speak or process the words he’d heard. Attack the Hero Tower? Copycat was right, it was suicide. And BigB could not possibly be needed for such a plan.

“Hear me out,” Scott calmly said.

Copycat changed forms to mimic his friend. “Hear me out, he says,” he repeated with irony. “No way!”

“It’s about Spotlight.”

Snakebite faced Scott, astounded. Even Copycat sat back down.

“What’s about Spotlight?” the latter said.

“We aren’t really going to attack the Tower, are we?” Siren spoke up.

“No we aren’t.” No one interrupted Scott as he started to explain his idea. “People have suspected for a long time that the reason Spotlight’s arrests were always made without him being seen was because of some invisibility power. I raise the hypothesis of a mind-control power–” Copycat rolled his eyes “–that works from a certain distance. The attack would only be a diversion to get into the archives and find that out.”

“If you want to defeat an enemy, you have to know them first,” Siren confirmed.

Everyone took a few minutes to think about it. Now, BigB could mildly understand why they needed him. If they planned on infiltrating the Tower, someone who could act as a radar was a valuable asset. An asset. He was just an asset. Not even a living being? What about his wants? his desires? his freedom of choice? Was his voice meant to be forgotten again and again and again? He didn’t want to help them, of course, but the beating heart in Scott’s chest reminded him of how little control he had over his own body and options.

“This is still suicide,” Snakebite told them. “I’ll have no part in that.” The snakes on her head hissed.

“You won’t have to go in. Copycat, BigB and I will do it. You and Siren will be the attackers.”

The red-haired villain rejoiced at this statement but it wasn’t enough for Snakebite.

“I need time to think about your stupid plan.”

“Not me!” Copycat had taken back his avian form. “Count me in again.” He smiled. “Spotlight must go. He’s a threat to us all.”

No one asked BigB’s opinion. Of course they didn’t. The most infuriating thing about it all was how they discussed important plans next to him as if they didn’t think of him as a menace to their project, as if he wasn’t able to betray them. Well… it was too dangerous to betray villains but he could still try to interfere. Make sure heroes arrest them. Except that if heroes did intercept the Mind Hackers, BigB would surely fall with them. Unless… unless he found a way to flee. A cowardly option, yet the only safe way for him to get out of this mess.

“If you helped me to get close enough to a hero for once,” Snakebite was saying, “I could use my powers on them.”

Right, there was still the threat of Snakebite. Scott had no power that could easily stop BigB, neither did Copycat, and he could simply plug his ears against Siren. However, when it came to the zombie hybrid, their abilities were a mystery to everyone, civilians and heroes alike.

“We should rally other villains too if we want to make this decoy attack believable," Siren said, annihilating BigB’s hopes. “Like Five AM.”

“I thought you hated her?”

“I don’t!” Siren sounded offended. “She’s fun to fight against. And she’s strong.”

“In that case,” Channeler added, “would Ghost and Ringleader be willing to help too?”

This raised complaints from the others.

“Ringleader will just solve the problem by blowing up the Tower,” Copycat told him. “And Ghost… has anyone heard of Ghost these last years? ‘Cause I surely didn’t.”

BigB thought of the strange enderman that came into his coffee shop a few weeks ago. Should he say something? No, it must have been someone else.

“Ringleader knows where they are,” Scott pointed out. “I think so at least. Ghost mentored him if I remember well.”

“None of them are reliable,” Copycat argued. “Especially not Ringleader. I put my veto on it.”

“Same here,” Snakebite said.

BigB started to zone out again. He didn’t like any of them and simply wanted out. It wasn’t fair that all these things happened to him in particular. He hadn’t done anything bad before. The worst he did was tell on his friend cheating on a test and it was something anybody would have done in his situation. Plus, he was a kid at this time. No matter how hard the Creaking hybrid thought about it, the less he found a reason for karma to get to him. It took him some time to understand that Scott was calling him.

“B, are you listening? We’re talking about the infiltration part, it’s important you know about this.”

BigB raised his head and looked at the villain with all the hate he could muster. He quickly scanned the feelings of the room. Scott was almost excited, Siren and Snakebite were both equally focused while Copycat felt a bit of apprehension in him. There was something so familiar about that specific emotion, his way of feeling. BigB shook his head and finally answered.

“No, I was not because you’re all crazy and we’re all going to die!”

Snakebite smiled in a “somebody finally agrees” way.

“You won’t.” Scott gave him one of his annoying smiles. “I have your heart and I don’t plan on being wounded anytime soon.”

The other one rolled his eyes.

“Right. Thanks dude, I feel better already.” He turned around and walked to the door. “I need a walk.”

BigB left with no further notice, angry and anxious.

            It happened at night. They were on the running track, heading for the fences that kept them separated from the other kids, the ones who weren’t in boarding school, who had loving parents waiting for them at home. Yet, BigB didn’t envy them, and neither did his friend who was walking next to him. Crap, he still couldn’t remember his name. Did it start with an M? M… that would do for now. Thanks to BigB, no one had caught onto them for now and they were freely roaming where they shouldn’t at this hour. The moon wasn’t enough light so M had brought a flashlight with him.

“And so, the older kids told me there was a hole in the fence,” M said. “From there, we can go to the other Training Center – the worst one of course –” a chuckle “-and we can go outside. Man, I can’t wait to shoplift for the first time.”

Training Center? What was M even talking about? They couldn’t go out, especially not without permission from the teachers. If someone saw them… M wasn’t listening at all. He was completely out of his mind, though BigB could still feel his apprehension, hidden but gigantic. They finally reached the fence, and there was the hole.

“Which student told you about this already?” BigB asked him.

“Well, it’s obviously G–”

Someone cleared their throat behind them. M dropped his flashlight, fear passing through his whole body. BigB wasn’t as surprised or anxious as his friend when the teacher took M by the wrist. The white mask of the adult made them emotionless even if they sounded angry, their purple robes seemed to glow in the dark.

“Trying to sneak out a week before the end-year exams, are we now?”

The fear of his friend was overflowing BigB.

“Thank you for warning me, BigB,” the teacher said. “Go back to your room now.”

M’s eyes reflected his betrayal as the teenager walked away without even looking back. It’d teach a lesson to everyone thinking he was weak, unable to catch the Watchers’ attention.