Felixentric

Scene 40

When Hale stepped up, he knew this battle would be valued more than any other. It would mean the end, not just of a life or three, but of all things.

He didn't know how this overwhelming sensation came to him, but it was stronger than his consciousness. It seemed to be all he knew.

So, he stood with both feet planted and both hands clenched. Quinn did the same, only with a weak fire blazing off his knuckles. First hesitant and then with a locked jaw.

Hale knew the fight would be worth so much less without Quinn at his very angriest, but how could he piss him off enough without having known him for so long? "Just remember that he killed Felix." Hale said. "It wasn't you. It was him. A trick."

There was no time for the heartfelt moment or to go into depth on forgiveness, but Quinn nodded and the fire grew a little brighter. He looked at Hen and asked for last words.

Hen did as he always did, laughed and smiled and came at them in a bolt of lightning.

"Why have you given up your hold?" Hale demanded as Hen twisted his arms around. I'lloozjhen didn't use his power much, at least for himself. It was mostly to make representations and control their minds. Sometimes he made monsters, fake, but feeling totally real - just to scare people. He thought these kinds of things were funny.

But Hale had only seen Hen's wrists twist like this, with white sparks flying, less times than one could could count on one hand. The sparks flew to over a foot around his hands and the air around Hen was looking like the end of a long road on a hot day or the air above a heating grill. The air spun around him and the fog was lifting, like a curse coming up from the lands. It was like every part of the scene was under his command.

And then mirrors appeared all around the woods, facing inward and creating shadows and duplicates everywhere Hale turned. Quinn's fire lit up in many of them, and Hen was in just about all of them.

Still standing in front of him, yet, Hen nodded. "Some tortures just deserve a full and undivided attention." Then, he disappeared before them in a huge twist of blues and illusive, heat particles. But his form in each mirror stayed present. Hale spun in circles. Quinn threw fire in all directions, but he was neither fast nor on-target.

Hale could have said, "Come out and fight us like a man." But it wouldn't have rounded out the full situation. It's been one and a half years. That's around 548 days of not being able to lift my own hand when I will it to. That's a lifetime of not being able to move my feet in the direction I please. "You ask for a fight and then run from it?" he said instead.

The light flickered from above the bench, but Hen's voice didn't echo out to them.

Hale knew something like this in sparring. If you wait long enough, the opponent may grow impatient enough to make ill-planned attacks.

Hen's voice finally came out. "I'm not looking for a fight, this time, dear."

Then, what?

"I'm here to push your restart button. All I've been doing this whole time hasn't been taking over Jupiter City. It's been driving you mad. And if I can wipe you clean and recreate you, I can do it again and again and again... Only then am I ever happy."

He didn't push for answers, because he didn't know what to ask. He stood there a moment and let his fists fall. What?

"Stop fucking around." Quinn threw fire. It hit a mirror and the glass began to crack from the heat.

"I've already done it twice. You don't remember, but I'll do it again and I'll get to watch you suffer. That's all that really mattered, all along - driving you and Felix and Janette and Quinn and Ryan to your breaking points."