𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 ☆ steve harrington³

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 : live wire

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 4.7k

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 than just over Steve's shoulder. She was the one with powers and an elementary understanding of Russian, after all. If worse came to worst, she could be their saving grace. Owen was only going to let him believe he was the one leading the way.

The others, however, were more than willing to just follow the two bullheaded, wannabe heroes with their matching death wishes. This gave Dustin all the time in the world to admire the architecture around him — if you could even call it that.

"I mean, you guys have to admit, as a feat of engineering alone, this is impressive."

"Impressive?" Owen's eyebrows furrowed. "It's a hallway, Dustin. A very long hallway."

Steve's face was scrunched in confusion when he looked over his shoulder. "Not to mention, it's a total fire hazard," he pointed out, skeptically. "There's no stairs, there's no exit, there's just an elevator that drops you halfway to Hell."

"They're Commies," Erica reminded the group. "You don't pay people, they cut corners."

Steve's face scrunched in confusion, but Robin interjected before he could comment. "To be fair to our Russian comrades, I don't think this tunnel was meant for walking," she mentioned, bringing up a very good point. "Think about it, they developed the perfect system for transporting that cargo."

Dustin nodded. "It all comes into the mall like any old delivery."

"And then they load it up onto those trucks and nobody's the wiser," Robin finished.

Owen's gaze was fixed on the ground in front of her, her eyes catching on every chip and scratch in the paint. "Except us. We're the wiser," she mumbled, feeling a mixture of both pride and doom, because actually being the wiser often put them in awful situations like this.

"You think they built this whole mall just so they could transport that green poison?" Steve mused, unable to see the point in it all. The mall probably cost a shit-ton to build... and all for some glamorous cover-up? It seemed unnecessary.

"I very seriously doubt that it's something as boring as poison," Dustin refuted. "It's gotta be something much more valuable, like promethium or something."

"Promethium?" Owen echoed, her eyebrows skyrocketing.

"What the hell's promethium?" Steve asked.

"It's what Victor Stone's dad used to make Cyborg's bionic and cybernetic components," Robin swiftly informed them.

Owen's expression grew dull and uninterested again. "Oh, so it's not actually real."

"Well, promethium is real, but Victor Stone isn't," Dustin corrected, dubiously glancing sideways at her. She and Steve were the only ones present with high school diplomas, and yet neither of them knew one of the 118 chemical elements? The Indiana public school system had seriously failed them.

Erica let out a loud groan, disrupting the conversation and dramatically clutching her stomach. "You're all so nerdy, it makes me physically ill," she choked, faking a gag for good measure.

"No, no, no," Steve butted in, his brows knitted together. "No, don't lump me in with them. I'm not a nerd, alright?"

Robin snorted at his immediate reaction. "Why so sensitive, Harrington?" she tauntingly cooed, a smirk on her lips. "Afraid of losing cool points to a ten-year-old child?"