The Marvels

Ep. 44 | And Scene

The anniversary plans went up in flames. The day went on, people celebrated, but it wasn't everything it was supposed to be, thanks to the hectic stunts pulled last night and all of the last-minute damage control.

Juggernaut was walking to Fox's office, surprisingly in an okay mood—if only because the shock hadn't worn off yet. Too much happened too fast. When he'd woken up in the greenhouse, he found Emika—who was presiding over the crew tasked to take care of the place—and asked her what the hell had just happened. Apparently, Celestro had shoved small but powerful explosives behind his eyes and along his ribcage when he was eleven. He didn't even remember that; it was, after all, back when medical tools and drugs still affected him. The kill switch was meant to work even when he was older, but they'd gravely underestimated just how indestructible he would grow up to be, and it only killed him for an hour without making sure he remained dead. It did decent damage: breaking his face and making him bleed for the first time in twenty-four years and stopping his heart, so everyone reasonably thought he was dead, but it all healed in the hour that followed, and he woke up feeling fine.

Emika had explained the switch in a hurried ramble, and then she said the Marvels were already fighting David and the New Humans, and while Juggernaut walked out of the greenhouse to take off for the junkyard, she followed and kept repeating that Frostbite wasn't entirely at fault. No wonder Frostbite was being so confusing when he confronted them. He'd realized something was wrong, but he wanted to kill David first and then ask her what she thought was going on. It was the strategic move, considering every second David was alive was another chance for catastrophe. Strategic move, horrible results.

It was all so infuriating. He spent almost his entire life doing everything for everyone else, only to be accused of mass murder and get nearly killed. And on the night before the anniversary, too—how poetic was that? He might've finally lost it and gone insane. He wasn't sure yet.

Fox shut her laptop when he sat down across from her. The sign on the office door had said do not disturb. It didn't apply to him, not today, and they both knew it.

"Did you know?" Juggernaut asked. He already heard from Emika that Fox had known about the kill switch since her first day as vice president, but he wanted to hear it from her.

"Yes."

"And you didn't bother telling me?"

"That would defeat the whole purpose, wouldn't it?" she said dryly. When she was met with silence, Fox shook her head. "Look, I've only worked here for twelve years. It was Goodman who made the kill switch. I simply inherited the knowledge. It was a vile thing, and I'm sorry it fell into the wrong hands."

He narrowed his eyes. "But?"

"But," she said quietly, "you have to understand why he made it. You're a nuke that can make decisions, including destructive ones. That's not something we can take lightly."

Juggernaut stopped listening as Fox started to ramble on about the necessity of having a system to keep him in check, how it was a safeguard for the sake of everyone. It bothered him; he still believed Fox was better than Goodman, but ultimately, they were doing the same thing: treating him like an object, an asset. Maybe an asset was all he was and all he would ever be, but that didn't mean he liked hearing these facts about him tumble out of Fox's mouth like a product warranty.

Juggernaut raised his hand to the pen holder on the edge of the desk and flicked it. It went flying right past her ear, making her gasp, and smashed through the window, sailed over the road, and landed on the roof of the building across the street.

Fox was frozen, her hands gripping the armrests. A shard of glass fell from the hole in the window and hit the floor with a sharp crack. Juggernaut watched her with calm disdain, grateful that she shut up.