Hero

Chapter Fifteen

"Great landing, Stryke," said Tempus Manum sarcastically as I peeled myself off the ground outside of the warehouse.  "Fly much?"

Stupid.  Stupid, stupid, stupid.  I'd made the idiotic decision to fly over to the address, thinking it would only take me a few minutes and be intimidating to my new nemesis.

Unfortunately, there were two downsides to this idea.  The first was that my nemesis- unless it was Tempus Manum- was nowhere to be found.  The second was that I wasn't that great at flying yet, so I didn't really have that great a handle on landings.  Hence, me being on the ground, brushing dust off of my white supersuit.

Not the best clothing decision I'd ever made, but one I had to live with.  As I brushed a strand of black hair out of my eyes, I turned to glare at Tempus Manum, who was smirking.  His eyes were closed, so he wasn't looking at me per se...but he was definitely laughing at me.  His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked just a little bit too relaxed to deal with everything that was going on.

"Shut up," I grumbled, mimicking his leaning position against the brick of the warehouse.  My suit was already covered in dust; it might as well be covered in whatever grime was on this building.  "So tell me about this new nemesis.  What do I need to know?  Can I go in?  Can I punch him?  Or her?  Wait, is it a guy or a girl?  Do we have some weird and twisted origin story where we're subtly connected in a way I never thought possible and I ruined their life or something?"

"First of all, you're going to calm the fuck down," said Tempus Manum, putting his hand on my bouncing shoulder to keep me grounded as he pushed off the wall to face me.  Could I really help it if all this made me excited?  I was about to meet my nemesis.  And I, like every other citizen in Everground, knew that if two potential EVILS and POWER candidates matched up well, the two groups had no choice but to make our acceptance official.

Sighing like he had better things to do with his Thursday morning, Tempus Manum reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a yellow card that was about the size of an index card.  He ran a hand through his lanky black hair and began reading off the card in a monotone voice that showed me just how boring he found this all.  "Congratulations.  You, kind and brave potential Hero to the POWER group, are hereby summoned... okay, I'm not reading off this fucking card," he said, tossing it behind him.  "Basically, you're about to meet your potential nemesis, so we can officially admit you to the POWER group.  This warehouse is shared ground, so the only fighting today is going to go on between you and your nemesis.  Her name is... fuck, I need the card again."

I groaned angrily, moving faster than he was to pick up the card and brush the dirt off of it.  Almost instantly, he snatched it out of my hands.  "Watch it, Stryke," he said.  "There's traditions we have to follow, you know.  Certain rules that would get me in a lot of trouble if they were broken."  He clenched the card between his fists and rolled his eyes.  "Although if it were up to me, I'd just let you have at her," he grumbled to the card.

"Fine, can you just hurry it up?" I asked, bouncing again.  He glanced up from the card and frowned at me.  I grimaced and crossed my arms over the lightning bolt on my chest, frowning right back.  "Please."

"That's better," he said, grinning at me as he rolled his eyes again.  "Now, your nemesis' chosen name is Mistress and she uses that same technology that we use to change our looks so don't expect to go running into a girl like this on the streets.  Her mask has all that crap in it, same as yours does."  He gestured flippantly at my face without looking up.

"Oh, look, they actually followed the rules for once and gave us a short description of her powers."  Tempus Manum squinted at the card, as though the handwriting on it were tiny and illegible.  "Your villain is a... genius alien."  He frowned.  "That seems fake, but okay, we'll go along with whatever she wants to pretend.  Her weapon of choice is poison and she's skilled at hand to hand combat."  He flipped the card over, as if he expected there to be more written on the other side, but I could have already told him that it was blank.  "Well, I guess that's it, then."
"So can I go in now?" I asked, unable to stop myself from bouncing once more.