Vengeful Creations || ONC 2021

Chapter Five

Peter opened a small control panel next to the emergency phone and punched in a four digit code. I knew without watching his fingers that the code was 0513 — May thirteenth, my birthday.

The doors closed and the elevator began its descent.

Peter turned to me. "How did you know that would work?" he asked. "The 'light years' thing, I mean."

"I know Doctor Impossible," I said. "The only thing he cares about more than overthrowing Metropolis Black is proving that he's smarter than everyone else. I knew he would launch into one of his stereotypical lectures and get so wrapped up that he wouldn't notice us leaving."

"Wicked!" Peter exclaimed. "You're like a telepath in this world. You know everyone's strengths, weaknesses, and secrets. Cool!"

"I know not in what sense the temperature is relevant to thine most masterful deception," Hamlet added, "but I am in accordance. Thy knowledge is most fruitful and profound, my lady."

Peter pulled a face. "Who was talking about the temperature?" he asked.

"Why, twas you, young sir," Hamlet replied. "Even now you made mention of a chill in the air."

"What? Nuh-uh."

"He's referring to your use of the word 'cool'," I translated.

"Does 'cool' not imply a temperate condition in which the air does not exude quite a spring day's warmth but has yet to make the arduous descent into the cold of winter?" Hamlet asked.

"It can also mean 'great'," I explained. "In this context. Any positive response, really."

"Ahhh," Hamlet said. "Cool."

Peter smacked himself in the forehead.

The elevator dinged, and a disembodied female voice announced, "Sub Level five."

Our hodgepodge trio disembarked, maneuvered down a short hallway, and rounded a corner. We arrived at a set of reinforced steel doors. I noted the surveillance camera watching us from above as Peter entered another code into yet another control panel.

The doors opened.

Peter ushered us inside and quickly bolted the doors behind us.

I turned in a full circle, soaking up our new surroundings. I was hit with an undeniable and situationally inappropriate urge to fangirl.

We were inside the vigilante headquarters. And it was exactly as I'd imagined it.

Two walls were lined with multiple display cases full of badass weapons and high tech communication devices. Everything from tasers, to bolas, to throwing stars, to nunchucks — if I could describe how to use it, the heroes had it.

A live digital city map hung from the ceiling in the center of the room. It updated in real time and illustrated in minute detail the location and severity of every explosion, robbery, and riot.

There were four work areas topped with state of the art computers and police scanners. Each sported a limited-edition action figurine of the corresponding vigilante.

But perhaps most impressive of all was the far wall, which was made up entirely of floor-to-ceiling surveillance monitors. Every corner of downtown Metropolis Black could be observed from inside this room.

"Shit..." Peter murmured. He pointed to one of the monitors. "Looks like Doctor Impossible and friends are giving the heroes a run for their money."

The live footage showed the heroes and villains in a nasty brawl of snap kicks and flying fists. NightHawk, Lady Silk, and Knives were completely outnumbered and systematically being forced toward the elevators.