Martin was moving amidst the ruins of the fallen upon hundreds of limbs. He was not wandering aimlessly, no, he had a purpose. He stalked the flavor of prey, with endless determination. He saw it - a small, fragile, pale creature with only four limbs and two eyes. A find most delightful. Small it was, but still fun to play with, to break. He advanced towards it, moving across the ancient broken things. He reached out for it, trapping it, enjoying its panicked flailing and then something struck his face with a blinding flash. He was suddenly, inexplicably both the prey and the hunter. His face burned, melted off, raining down, droplets turning into a thousand shards of his consciousness which scurried away as a thousand, small, black spiders.

Martin awoke from the terrible dream, unable to scream. He realized that he could not move, could not speak. With increasing dread he remembered that he was now trapped in a body that was no longer his own, a marionette driven by a sinister, alien intelligence. A fiendish thing from 400 years in the future was living inside his head, controlling his every move. Martin watched as his own body got up on its own accord. It stood up and walked away from the bed, not folding the bed sheets.

“No! You have to fold those!” Martin protested.

“Why?” The monster in his brain asked curiously. “Will your parents notice this irregularity?”

“No,” Martin thought. “Wait. Shit. I should trick… ”

“I can hear your every thought. Nothing hides from me. You cannot trick me. You cannot lie to me. Your body belongs to me now. Weak though it may be, it is now mine to wear.”

“Crap. He knows what I’m thinking. Hey! I’m not weak!” Martin thought.

“You are. If you invested the time you usually spend folding your bed sheets into training your body, your meaty shell would already be stronger. Your mind is a disorganized mess and your muscles are leaving much to be desired.”

“Great. I’m being lectured by a hideous spider from the future.”

“Quite interesting that.”

“Crap.”

“Yes. I am well aware that the one you call Alexa brought me here. I am connected to your brain meat. I am using its processing power to understand you and everything around it, including myself. This girl you label as a villain and a friend... Ah, you think that I can use her to bring more of my kind here? That does sound swell."

“Hey! Don’t you dare! Damn it, why did I think about that?!”

“You care for this human. Interesting.”

“Hey!”

“You greatly enjoy spending time with her. It will be easy to emulate this fascinating behavioral pattern to use her.”

“Uh. Um.”

“I can see your thoughts and draw conclusions from them. Nothing hides from me. Your attempts not to think about her are foolish.”

Martin would turn red, was he still in control of his body. But he wasn’t. He was just a thought, a background personality. He watched as the Skinwalker stretched his legs and arms, watched as his body exercised relentlessly on its own accord with a variety of squats, pushups, jumping jacks, lunges and things he could not even name. He felt tension of his muscles straining to their limits.

“See? You are weak and stiff. Easily broken. Not like my other shard in the one you call Mr. Canard. A strong human. Too strong ...perhaps. It would explain why he is acting so foolish, lacking control, finesse.”

“I uh…”

“Your mind is as weak as your body. Simple, easily understood. This weakness is a boon for me. Ah, I see. Your friend Alexa called me Spiderbro. It is an acceptable title, if a little odd. I did not have a human label before.”

Martin’s body finished exercising, and took a refreshing shower. The skinwalker looked into the mirror and Martin saw that his own eyes were taking on a silver tint.

"Ah yes," Spiderbro observed. "I took the liberty of improving your vision, but not too much. We wouldn't want to be noticed too soon, after all."

Martin got dressed and proceeded downstairs. The wall clock hanging above the antique piano in the living room showed that it was 7 in the morning.

“Good morning Martin,” His dad put down the newspaper. “I believe we have a lot of things to talk about."

Martin inwardly cringed. He’s been expecting this talk, fearing it, forgetting for a second that his body no longer belonged to him.

“I gave you a break yesterday, letting you off to sleep early, considering how we came home so late.” His dad said, round spectacles glinting on his face.

“He doesn’t deserve no God damned breaks! He broke into the bank with a villain! He was in a stolen car with her! He...” A shrill voice resounded, listing Martin’s various crimes.

Martin’s eyes shifted to the second person occupying the living room - his sister. Unlike his dad who simply looked very disappointed, she looked extremely irate, golden eyes aflame with a thirst for Martin’s takedown.

“I know,” his dad said with a sigh. “I reviewed your report on the matter.”

“I don't care that you know! You need to do something! Ground him till he’s twenty! Put a Superstate criminal tracker on his leg! Take his credit card away! No more allowance! He should be in school or home! No more talking to that girl villain!”

“Ember, please stop yelling. You’ve been yelling about this last night and you’re yelling the exact same thing this morning. You don’t need to repeat yourself. I understand what you think must be done. I want to know why Martin did those things.”

“I did it because I wanted to catch the villain next door. I’m sorry, dad. I made a mistake. Please, forgive me.” Martin thought.

“I told you that our neighbours are supervillains, dad. Alexa… the girl from the cathedral next door gave me a letter. It was from her father. He knew that you’re all heroes. It said there is a death ray on the moon pointing at our house…” Martin’s body sniffed dramatically. “And if I refused to comply… all of you will die. I don’t know why he made his daughter steal the ice cream van to break into the bank. We didn’t take anything from there, I swear. Alexa has this bracelet on her that randomly teleports her around town. I don’t know why. Like his daughter, I am a hostage, not a collaborator. Please understand. We were likely just a distraction from some other fiendish plan of his.”

Spiderbro spoke calmly, staring straight at the two Kilbornes. The skinwalker had no fear of Ember. It felt no worry, no guilt. The alien intelligence wasn't pressured or stressed by the authority of Martin’s father - it thought of him only as prey labelled as Daniel Kilborne. Spiderbro made a far better liar than Martin ever hoped to be.

“A ray gun? On the freaking moon?! Do you really think the SCA prognosticators and observers would miss that? Are you a freaking imbecile?!” Ember yelled. "God, why is my brother such an idiot?!"

“I see,” His dad sighed, silencing Ember with a wave of his hand. “I’m sorry, Martin. I should have told you. The SCA relocated us here so that I could investigate Doctor Terranova’s odd local project. Alas, it seems that he found out about us and sent us a message through you not to interfere with his work.”

Martin's head nodded in agreement.

“You should still ground him for being an idiot! He assisted in…”

“Ember, enough.”

“No! I’m…”

“Ember! Go to your room or outside. I’m tired of your interruptions. We’ve already contained the situation. I’m this town’s SCA rep, therefore I will decide how to deal with local villain activity. Nothing of value was taken, the SCA insurance will cover the damage to the bank and the ice cream van. You erased the bank tapes. The local police will be told that this is an SCA matter. It doesn’t need to go any further. Now, let me talk to Martin without your constant yelling.”

Ember glared at their father, stood up huffing and left. Martin’s body turned to his dad. “Thanks dad. Em’s always jumping to conclusions.”

Daniel put his hand on Martin’s shoulder. “She’s got your mother’s... rambunctious personality. It’s my fault, Martin. I didn’t expect for you to get involved. Doctor Terranova is skirting a very thin line. Using children in supervillain plans is frowned upon by both villains and heroes. I will get to the bottom of whatever he is doing sooner or later, I promise. This is why Ember and I are here. She’s right. There’s no way we’d miss a ray gun on the moon. It would have to be gigantic to reach all the way down to the planet. You got tricked... by a letter. Villains lie, you ought to remember that.”

“I'm sorry. I won’t commit any more crimes, I promise.” Martin’s body answered.

“See that you don’t.” Dad ruffled his hair. “Go have breakfast and off to school you go, kiddo. Don't cause any more trouble, okay? No more skipping class.”

Spiderbro nodded to his dad and proceeded into the kitchen.

“Dad! DAD!!! There’s a monster inside me! A lying spider from the future! It’s planning to…” Martin screamed, but these words didn’t go further than his thoughts.

“You don’t even know what I’m planning.” Spiderbro interrupted Martin’s inner screaming.

“You’re planning to infect all of humanity with your kind!”

“Maybe I am, maybe I am not.”

“That makes me feel soooo much better!”

“An infallible plan of action requires greater understanding of this world. I am but a tiny, rearranged shard of my prior self, currently operating on the extremely inadequate knowledge of a 14 year old human child.”

“I’m not inadequately educated, damn it!”

“That’s not what Alexa said.”

“Hey! Why are you bringing her up into this?!”

“It’s not my fault that you can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Arghhhh!”

. . .

Alexa woke up in her unassailable tree fortress, her head and back aching. She rubbed her head, remembering how she had a close encounter with a concrete pole.

"Well, it's a good thing I stole that helmet." She muttered groggily. "Where is my helmet?"

"I took it off so you could sleep." Cottie sat in a lotus pose in front of her, humming and polishing her railgun with a gray microfiber cloth.

“Morningghh.” Alexa groaned.

“You know that can’t be healthy for you.” Cottie commented.

“Eh?”

“Eating benadryl to force yourself to sleep.”

“I don’t do it all the time, only when I require an instant nap, or when I get a severe concussion. Did I invite you into my up-tree fortress? I can’t seem to remember much of last night.”

“You did. I carried you most of the way.”

“Ah. You are shaping up to be a far superior minion than Mittens. I should make you my number one.”

“I’m not your minion. I am an Emissary of Equality.”

“Why not both?” Alexa wiggled her eyebrows. Cottie returned to polishing her gun, refusing to participate in further conversation.

“I take it back! Mittens returns to first place as top minion by virtue of being more fun.”

Alexa stood up, did a series of light stretches and swallowed several Advils, drowning them with a bottle of water. She looked at herself in a slightly cracked, long, gold plated mirror. A very tired looking, silver haired girl stared back at her, dry blood encrusted on her forehead.

“I notice you have a lot of expensive things here.” Cottie commented, eyeing the slightly burned Rembrandt painting on the wall.

“Why thank you, Cottie! Too bad Mittens is missing out on praising my excellent interior design skills.” Alexa grinned beneath rows upon rows of priceless art. “Eh whatever, we had a nice girls only sleepover party!”

“There was no party. You passed out after rambling incoherently.”

“Your brutal honesty is very pointy. Try being less square,” Alexa sighed, stepping into a very shoddily constructed camping style shower.

“I’m not a square.”

“You are sooooo square.” She pulled off her blood stained clothes. “Don’t you worry, my equalness worshiping pal, I’m sure I can wear down those jagged edges with some elbow grease and a whole lot of...

Eeeeeeeeeerk! Damn it I should really invest in a water heater!"

. . .

Verse Twenty-four Nineteen didn’t make out what exactly Terranova was going to use to wear her down with, as the rest of the girl villain's speech was interrupted by Alexa's noisy squee. She looked at the damaged, priceless art strewn all around the tree house in wonder. Subject Alexa Terranova was a mystery, wrapped in an enigma. Did she somehow rob museums, secretly replacing the art there with copies or were these some sort of elaborate copies? If so, why did they look so aged and worn?

She recalled the sacred words of Eminence Equality, the prophetess of the Equalizer Order that were burned into her mind.

“Twenty-four Nineteen. You are my most talented and dedicated Enforcer. I know that you will not fail me. I thus entrust The Song of the Void and the most important mission of all, into your capable hands. This I have foreseen - Alexandra Terranova is the key with the power to reshape the world and soon all villains and heroes will desire to wield her. The storm of all-devouring darkness comes and she stands in its eye. Save her life, befriend her, aid her, make sure she remains human as long as possible. When the time comes, when she finally picks a side, end her life.”

The Executioner looked at the cheerful, silver-haired girl who emerged from the shower. She had to become Alexa’s friend, to protect and teach her to be human, only to kill her in the end. It was a heavy, terrible burden. The face of Twenty-four Nineteen did not show the inner turmoil she felt. The equality of the world had a price and that price was the life of just one girl.

“You know, the way you’re cradling that big gun of yours and staring into my soul with those chilling, emerald eyes is veeeeery suspicious.” Alexa advanced towards Twenty-four Nineteen, wrapped up in a pink towel. The Equalizer girl flinched back ever so slightly.

“Oh, I know!” The villainess grinned. “You undoubtedly also want a refreshing, cold shower! Go ahead, there’s plenty of rain-water in the tank!”