The Crabby Crawfish - A Book of One-shots

R / Nova?

Renegades one-shot

This one-shot was inspired by the story, Virtue and Sin, by CrystalMoon884, which is currently posted on archiveofourown.com. It's a really good story and you should check it out!

(Pst! I'm looking for a better title for this. If you have ideas please share them! Thanks!)

The Renegade Headquarters was in ruins. Rubble was flying, the Anarchists were fighting - and winning, to Adrian's disappointment. Even Nightmare showed up, although to further disappoint him, she was wearing her mask. It seemed that the day couldn't get worse. Until it did.

"You're fighting a losing battle, Renegades. Surrender now or be destroyed." The younger villain glanced around at the assembled Renegades. She laughed, a low, merciless laugh that made Adrian's stomach clench. This was what a decade's worth of work came to. Superheroes turned super-failures at every corner. It was, he realized, inevitable. They had entertained false hope that the villain problem was taken care of. To their great demise, they would forever live with the consequences.

"So what will it be, heroes? Surrender willingly or surrender by force. I don't care which, although it would be a bit more fun with the latter option. My fellow Anarchists are positively bloodthirsty having been cooped up for so long in our tunnels.

"But we haven't been just sitting around in our train cars, have we? No, we have been training, building, preparing for this fateful day; the true day of triumph. Now, Renegades, prepare to die."

Adrian was too afraid to join in the battle because Nightmare's muffled words made absolute sense to him. The Anarchists may be outnumbered, but they sure as hell weren't going to give up very easily. Plus, they had been training for ten years, while the Renegades had only a few prodigies up to that claim. The Anarchists were resourceful, clever, powerful, and determined, while the Renegades merely had numbers. And Nightmare had scared them witless.

It was up to him. He may not have enough power, but he did have some. His being the Sentinel was the least of their worries right then, and he would stand and fight for his city, for his family, for his ideals. He would die for them.

That was something the Anarchists did not understand. They only cared for power and those who held it, but had no idea what brought a person to stand in front of their loved ones, take a bullet for them, or risk their life for a friend. They knew nothing of loyalty; only complied when they knew it was for their own benefit. In this way they were predictable.

At least, he thought so. The other Anarchists went for the main five Renegades, but Nightmare stayed behind. He wondered why. That was, until he saw her striding straight up to him. He fumbled with his shirt until he found his tattoo zipper and transformed into the Sentinel. He could almost see Nightmare's cruel grin forming under her mask.

"Ah, so it begins. It's rather laughable that you were the Sentinel all this time, but couldn't trust your own parents with the information. I guess the Renegades don't dispel fear after all. It's a shame, really. The whole Sentinel project would have been much more interesting if said Sentinel actually did something good for the city." She clicked her tongue. This insult hit hard. Adrian had always wanted to save his beloved Gatlon, but in all his attempts, he had never actually saved anyone. It was as if Nightmare actually knew him, knew what would hurt the most. But she couldn't know him, right?

"I," he began shakily, while Nightmare waited patiently, leaning on a collapsed support beam, "I at least try to do the right thing. I try to save people, and you only know how to kill. I will fight for my city." His voice cracked halfway through, and he mentally slapped his forehead. He couldn't show fear to Nightmare or she would never give him the information about his mother.

"Well I'm sure someone's lost their sanity, and it sure wasn't me. It's for that very reason that I will be merciful and end your life now." Her voice was neutral, matter-of-fact. It was freaky.

"One last thing," Adrian added, now knowing that fighting against his fear was a lost cause.

"Yes, but make it quick, Everheart. You're not the only one practically begging to be killed." Her foot tapped the cracked marble impatiently.

"You said, 'One cannot be brave who has no fear,'" he began, but Nightmare snapped her fingers.

"I know that. So?" she cut in.

"Well, that was the message on my mother's body when she died. Do you have any idea who killed her?"

Her foot stopped tapping. "Why would I tell you?"

It was a good question. If their roles were reversed, he probably would have asked the same thing.

The villain opened her duffel bag and brought out the eight-pointed netting gun, aimed it at Adrian, and he hadn't a second to move before he was forced to the wall, staring at Nightmare's face. The villain then strode up to him purposefully, pulled out a gleaming rosy, copper-colored knife, with about a six-inch blade, and held it up to the light.

"Do you know what this is?" It was a rhetorical question. He didn't, but assumed that was her point. "This is one of the last weapons my father made. He hated making weapons, but he did anyway. It was the only way not to die. You see, lots of gangs needed weapons, and had enough already to threaten our family. My father complied, but eventually went to Captain Chromium for help and begged for assistance. You know what your precious dad did? He agreed. He promised that no harm would come to our family as long as my father stopped making the villains arms. He trusted you. And you know what?"

"Um, what?" Adrian asked, again knowing her question was not meant to be answered.

"That gang spared no time in shooting my family as dead as door nails. My parents were innocent people that had nothing to hide, but did the Renegades care? Of course not, because why should they? It's not like anyone would know what happened that night.

"And that was their downfall. I survived to tell the world what I know. I live to avenge them, to avenge this city, to avenge Ace Anarchy, who fought for me when I was not strong enough to fight myself.

"Die, young Renegade," she lowered her voice, "and remember; it was Nova Artino who ended your life."

Adrian watched it all in a haze, almost as if he could see his own death from a third-person view. The warm-looking metal felt strangely cold as Nightmare plunged it deep into his heart. The pain he felt was worse than he had ever felt before. With Nightmare's last words echoing in his mind, he felt as if a mist he hadn't noticed had suddenly been removed from his view. He gasped.

Nova McLain was not just any prodigy. She was the infamous Nightmare, with the same last name as Ace Anarchy, or Alec Artino. David Artino, Alec's brother, must then be her father, and that meant...

At once he recognized the material of the knife she weilded. It was the same material as Ace's helmet and Nova's bracelet. She had been so enraged that day when her bracelet had been stolen, at that must only mean that part of her story was true.

When Adrian thought about it more, he realized how often Nova had stiffened at the mention of Nightmare or the Anarchists; how familiar she seemed with the Detonator in the library; her sarcastic comments in front of the Council; every time her voice would rise when she talked about being loyal to the Renegades. Every word of her story was true, and he had fallen in love with the most wanted villain in Gatlon.

With a shuddering breath, his peculiar detachment from his own body ended, and the agony of his wound was increased ten-fold. He screamed, but not only due to his pain.

He had lost more than his life in that encounter.