GraceFall [ONC 2024]

13

Amid the devastation ...

Betty punched the air and immediately realised how inappropriate that was. Too many people had died, but to know that Principle had arrived gave her hope that fewer casualties would arise. Her journalist's mind, however, had other ideas. She had already retrieved her cell phone, turning it the chaos around her and started taking pictures. A story was a story and she was right here, in the centre of it all, with one of the protagonists. Or an antagonist.

"No. No. No!" Sean pushed himself to his feet, unsteady, clutching his head. "He shouldn't be here!"

"What? It's over. Or as good as." Betty turned her phone skyward, trying to capture the battle high above the city. "It's Principle! If anyone can bring Phaross in, it's him."

"You don't understand!" The small man peered upward, teeth gritted. "I ... he knows Principle's weakness! One of them, at least. A weakness that Phaross can exploit to kill him."

He looked sincere. More than sincere. Sean Smith, alter-ego of the hero, Psycona, if she could call him that anymore, looked as serious as the destruction surrounding him. A weakness? In Principle? That sounded impossible. Principle had fought literal gods. He had fought, and won, against beings that could bend time, space and reality. He had come close to defeat, in the past, but he always prevailed. Always!

"What weakness?" She grabbed hold of Sean's jacket, spinning him around. So odd considering that he wasn't actually real. "What weakness!"

Sean looked as though he wanted to join the fight, but, if Betty could believe him, he had no powers. Not in this form. This illusory aspect of himself. As he was, right now, Sean was even less the hero than his actions, though, it seemed, unintended, had proven him. Less than Psycona. Less than Phaross. Less, even, than the humans around him.

He wasn't real. With her nascent powers, she touched at where his mind should be and found only emptiness. Even while fighting the greatest hero the world had ever known, Phaross continued to maintain the illusion of his human self. Or did he? Was the image of Sean Smith an intended action, or something else? Was the hero, Psycona, still in there, somewhere, fighting his evil counterpart even now?

"Principle is immune to most psychic attacks. Physically as invulnerable as anything. Mentally, one of the most secure minds in the universe. Magic affects him as much as anyone, but it doesn't make him any more vulnerable." Sean touched his head, where a line of blood trickled down his temple. Why would Phaross even show that? "But even someone with cells as dense and compact as Principle has gaps. It's the nature of fundamental particles. There's more space between the particles than there is actual matter and, due to that, there is a vulnerability, however slight."

"I don't think I like where this is going." Betty pulled Sean out of the street as FCFD arrived, sirens wailing. "How vulnerable?"

"I am ... he is telekinetic, among a number of other psychic powers." He slumped against a wall, hand continuing to touch the cut on his head, frowning at the blood. "All he needs to do is keep Principle occupied long enough to introduce, particle by particle, a blockage in Principle's heart."

"He's going to give Principle a heart attack?" Betty couldn't believe how mundane such a death would be. The great Principle, laid low by a damaged heart. "Then you have to do something."

"There's nothing I can do." He slid down the wall, cradling his head in his hands. "Principle is already dead."

-+-

High above the streets ...

He knew. He could tell with every one of his super-senses. The heartbeat was the same. The brain activity, though warped and disturbed, was the same. For good measure, he had also looked down to a cellular level, to the DNA. This was Zjahn Zjmit. Psycona. One of Earth's most stalwart defenders. Principle considered him a friend. An ally. Yet the man before him looked and acted nothing like the Psycona he knew.