LIGHTFOOT (ONC 2021)

6.1| one more time.

Saint-Max bit his bottom lip, his heart drenched in flames. It didn't make sense. Why him? What did he ever do to deserve such a fate?

Warmth spread over his chest like a plant's roots, snaking around his burning heart like a predator ready to feast on its prey. He wanted to deny his discovery, but it made too much sense.

He'd have categorized dying once and returning to the spot of origin as a vision. A clairvoyant ability manifesting in a near-death situation. Most superheroes' powers manifested that way. But dying twice and finding himself back at the same spot? This wasn't a vision. There was one explanation.

"What do you mean you're stuck in a time loop?" Janice asked. She didn't look confused or shocked. As a reporter, she must've heard stories about superheroes stuck in time loops before. Same as Saint-Max. So, the unranked superhero assumed she wanted further clarification of their situation. Or rather, his situation.

"I've done this twice." He sighed, not looking forward to doing it again. The superheroes caught in a time loop told different accounts, but they all agreed to have gone through many loops before it ended. Some did it five hundred times. Saint-Max cringed at the thought.

Janice reached for her phone in her pocket and stared at its screen. "There's no connection." She returned it and gazed at the sky, watching the superheroes fight the kaijus. "Is this the point of origin?"

"Yes... I think so." Saint-Max hadn't paid attention to his surroundings in the previous loop. When I return here, a bright light passes through us. He didn't know whether to tell her, assuming it was nothing serious. Maybe it came from the kaijus with their fire and ice abilities. Weirder things had happened.

"From what I know, the superheroes stuck in time loops had time control or manipulation abilities. Do you?"

"No." He was a speedster. How he wished he was more.

She scratched her chin. "Explain what you did the previous times."

Saint-Max told her about running into the bank, finding the masked villains and hostages, and stopping them before their leader tore his body with bullets. He made it clear he only lost because The Leader manipulated gravity, keeping him frozen in place before killing him.

The recall sunk Saint-Max's stomach into an ocean of worry, bringing dread to his already shaken core. Images of The Leader shooting him with a smile on his face flashed in his mind. He had never encountered such an enemy before.

How could someone enjoy killing others so much? The look of euphoria in The Leader's eyes wrangled his spine like a wet towel. He would rather be buried beneath a frozen lake than look in the man's eyes again.

"You remember dying?" Janice asked softly, as if she was dealing with a wounded animal that would shatter like glass at the mention of their tormentor.

Saint-Max nodded.

People who died and came back to life had lied; there were no flashbacks of his life or anything closer to that. He just died. The last thing he saw was The Leader's smile. It filled his thoughts like a dark cloud.

Death hurt like a mother!

He felt each bullet pierce his body.

But that wasn't the damning thing.

What came after was worse.

In death lay darkness. Only him and his thoughts. The constant reminder of having not accomplished anything in life broke him. Even if it was only for a second, it felt like a lifetime.

And he experienced it twice!

"Speak to me. What are you thinking?" Janice asked, worry swimming in her eyes like dancing fish.

"I'm going to try to stop him one more time," he replied.

"Why?"

"Something doesn't feel right." He couldn't explain it—he sucked at saying what was on his mind. But when he stopped the masked villains both times, the whole setup looked... like a setup. The way they divided the bank's staff and customers; the way they divided themselves; the way The Leader caught him off-guard. It looked planned, like they waited for him to show up, and weren't there to rob the bank.

"You're going to re-explain everything to me, right?"

Saint-Max smiled. "Of course." Then he darted towards the bank.

His gut screamed, clawed, and bit his insides. One thing waited for him at the end: Death. But he had to check it out, making sure he wasn't overthinking things. His consciousness needed it.

He phased through the doors and knocked out the masked villains by hitting the back of their heads with the side of his hand. "Go! Run!" he told the hostages.

The cashiers and tellers ran first, the customers behind them. But when the first two groups reached the doors, they stopped and turned towards the latter, pointing pistols at them.

I knew it! A wave of relief washed over Saint-Max's body, feeding him the fruits of righteousness. His gut apologized to his consciousness for not spotting the enemy from within earlier.

There were many cases of some bank staff working with the robbers. But this was the first time Saint-Max saw them do it. The bank manager—who had called Tim—wasn't around.

Where was he? Was he part of the problem? If so, why did he call Tim? If not, then he must've suspected his employees and called the agent for help. Did something happen to him?

"Sit down!" a bank teller shouted at the customers.

The latter obliged, shaking in fear as they plopped to the floor.

Before Saint-Max stopped the bank staff, someone behind him said, "Don't even think about it."

The unranked superhero turned to The Leader. The man smiled at him. "Hello, Lightfoot."

"You won't get away with this."

"Oh?" The Leader raised his brow. "You think you can stop me?"

"Yes."

The Leader frowned. "I always hated your cocky tone." He aimed his machine gun at Saint-Max. The unranked hero didn't run. He'd gotten the answer to his question. Next time, he'd try something different. "Why are you smiling?"

"This is not the end," Saint-Max said.

"Yes, it's not." The Leader killed the unranked hero.

Total Words: 10,715