“Fear not.” McCarthy said, laying his briefcase down on the counter with a soft thud. The large man pointedly ignored the duffel bag Ryan now had a hand inside and instead popped the case open by the center latch. Pulling a few sheets of stapled paper out, he turned to face the editor. A practiced politician’s smile that did not reach his eyes rested comfortably on the man’s face.

“I am not the ‘stick’ in negotiations, here. Regardless of what you may have heard on the street. I’m… more of an olive branch. Our town needs solidity in these trying times… brotherhood.” McCarthy’s face and tone became an almost-convincing level of empathetic as he looked at the blood splattered across the floor. “One man helping another. Relying upon one another’s strengths to fill our gaps. Shore up the community, as it were. Preferably, with more good samaritan men with good samaritan powers like yours, hmm?”

Ryan remained quiet while McCarthy’s opening speech droned on. Anger was welling up within him at every new word of the bastard’s pompous faux-english accent. There was hypocrisy, and then there was whatever this shit was. The man worked in a hospital that brainwashed people! Shore up the community my diamond-coated ass!

On a lark, the editor checked to make sure McCarthy wasn’t under some adverse mental status himself. None came up. Not terribly surprised by that, Ryan kept his inner irritations to himself. Instead keeping quiet and forcing his features to look as if he were sincerely considering the man’s words.

The silence stretched on as McCarthy waited for a response. When none came, one of the elves from before pulled the door shut, presumably out of politeness. Ryan could hear her post up outside of it. Her sister is probably with her. Ryan guessed. But, at least they’re outside. That’ll make this easier. Pretty sure they're still faster than me.

“Right... Well, I can see that you’re busy. How about this: I’ll leave the offer on the counter and you can come find me in the lobby when you’re done here. I'd hate to get in the way of patient care after all.” McCarthy smiled broadly at his own joke, though not so much as an answering smirk found its way onto Ryan’s face.

After checking his watch and closing his briefcase, McCarthy continued. “I’ve got another hour before my next appointment. Should you choose to accept after that, merely make your way to city hall. Turn it in at the front, there’s a wonderful woman by the name of Jenny who will receive you. The offer won't expire either, so take your time. The address is on the last page.”

McCarthy laid a stack of stapled papers on the counter and then took a step towards Ryan, extending his hand as if to offer a friendly shake goodbye. Ryan knew better. He wants to confirm my power with his before he leaves. To make sure he isn't wasting his time? … or to see if he needs the twins to come in after all?

Pushing his initial hesitation aside, Ryan made a snap decision. You know what? Sure. I'm sick of hiding anyway.

Ryan rose and reached for the man’s hand. The moment their hands clasped McCarthy’s expression went from one of smug satisfaction to mild confusion, which quickly became a blend of fear and awe he learned how Ryan's power worked and subsequently realized his own mistake. McCarthy's mouth opened to call out, his hand pulling back - but Ryan was faster.

Would you like to dissolve McCarthy’s lips and replace them with skin? Cost: 5 points. Yes, or no?

As soon as the editor’s power activated, McCarthy’s lips sealed themselves shut matrix-style. Flesh melting his mouth shut before the man could even scream. A second later, nothing discernible remained between nose and chin. And though his jaw worked furiously to open - it no longer could. Only muffled screams came from McCarthy's cheeks and flared nostrils.

Ryan tapped the wall behind him. Technically a part of each wall in this room. Which meant it was connected to the door frame as well. And that was all he needed.

Would you like to extend the wall of this room to cover the interior door frame? Cost: 17 points. Yes, or no?

The room’s walls rapidly began to lock its only entrance shut with a layered shell of hospital tile and drywall. McCarthy’s eyes grew even wider and the man’s self-preservation instincts finally overwhelmed his fear. Still holding Ryan’s hand the big man tried to pull him in for a sucker punch, but the editor exerted his strength in return and didn’t budge. Without the extra expected inches from the pull, McCarthy’s meaty fist fell just short of Ryan’s nose.

I doubt that was even worth absorbing the force of. The editor thought with idle detachment. After having been pummeled relentlessly by a former champion boxer, there was even a hint of disdain at the lackluster attempt.

Not giving his attacker time to pull back, Ryan stepped in and smashed his free hand into McCarthy’s nose. Then he reached back with the same hand and pummeled his target's chest, gut, and groin for good measure. His enhanced strength eliciting popping sounds from the big man’s body each time.

Chester didn't even have a chance to respond. The large suited man was clearly not a fighter, despite his physique. He crumpled to the ground, releasing his grip on Ryan’s hand in favor of attempting to cover the bloody mess his nose had become. Then his brain processed the location of the last strike and his remaining hand flew south to assure the integrity of something he would probably want professionally checked soon.

Repeating his earlier power use, Ryan extended the floor across the downed man, pinning him neatly to the ground. The sound of fists banging rang out immediately from the other side of the door. Followed by shaking as something heavy impacted what he guessed was the doorframe. The blow was strong enough that cracks appeared on the extended section of wall Ryan had made.

O-kay… That won’t hold for long. Right then.

Withdrawing a cylindrical piece of metal from the duffel bag, Ryan got down on one knee next to the struggling man. He held the moss-colored metal stick carefully by one end, his fingers wrapped around its cloth handle. The other 6 inches of it held ever so gently above McCarthy’s face. The man stopped squirming, staring up at Ryan and the metal with confusion. Confusion mixed with fear.

“This.” Ryan said, indicating the metal stick by jiggling the end of it. “Is a fun little creation of mine. It’ll eat through flesh, blood, and even bone on contact. You don’t even have to press that hard.”

As if to make the point, he tapped some of the blood on Chester’s suit. The red liquid immediately sizzled as it was sucked into the metal. The end of which lit up with a dull orange glow. McCarthy, for his part, grew very, very still. His eyes locked onto the devouring metal.

“Haven’t thought of a name for it yet, but I’m working on it. Now.” Ryan pointed the stick back at McCarthy’s face as the wall behind him shuddered under another impact. Flecks of drywall flew across the room. “I want to know a few things, and you’re going to tell me. Or I’m going to drop this on your neck and see how long it takes to reach the floor. Capische?”

McCarthy’s face paled a bit, but he nodded in agreement. Then his mouth, or rather, the lower half of his face, twitched. A muffled noise came through that held the notes of a question.

While Ryan still had half a mind to drop the stick and burn open this bastard’s blowhole, that wasn’t likely to make him any more talkative. The threat had already been made. No need to belabor the point. The editor put one finger on the other man’s skull and activated his power. In seconds, Chester’s face returned to normal. McCarthy spit up blood as soon as his lips had fully re-formed. As he did, a sword stabbed its way through the wall where the door had been.

“Where is the mayor, and what is his power?” Ryan asked in a steady voice. He’d start with the most pressing questions first. Leave the personal ones for later.

“They’ll be... through that… any second.” McCarthy gasped out.

“Then I guess you better start talking.” Ryan responded with menacing calm, tapping the end covered end of the metal. “Or I’ll kill them first.” A part of him meant it, too. He’d just spent far too long healing those who’d suffered, and hearing their stories, to have any pity left for the scum who’d put them here. McCarthy’s little trio might not have done it themselves, but they were still part of the group that had. That made them guilty enough for the part of Ryan howling for justice.

Something in the editor’s eyes broke through McCarthy’s last bit of resistance.

“Alright.” McCarthy mumbled. Ryan waggled the stick in a ‘start talking’ fashion.

“Alright, damn you! The mayor lives at city hall, in one of the underground floors. I’m not sure which. As to his power…” The big man shivered. “It… let’s him control others. Anyone he touches.”

“What’s it called?”

“What?”

“Don’t play games with me. I know you can see others’ powers when you touch them. What’s. His. Called. And how does it work?”

“I-I don’t know! Once I told him what mine was, I wasn’t allowed near him. I swear!”

Ryan mulled that over for a second as the sword previously stuck in the wall began to saw its way back and forth. “Why were you after me before?”

“What do you mean? I’ve never met you before!”

Right. You’re not wearing your own face, Ryan. He’s never met this one. Reverting back to it would waste time and energy though. Energy he would probably need if he had to fight his way out of here.

“No, it isn’t. You came to the sixth floor of this hospital shortly after I woke up. Then my friends and I were attacked. That wasn’t a coincidence. Now my father is missing and my friends are gone. You will tell me why and where. Now. Or you will die before they get through.” Ryan almost finished his threat by jamming the stick through the man’s arm, but he managed to resist making his point. It would only delay what he wanted.

McCarthy’s brows wrinkled at that. Then they relaxed. “You...” He breathed out, real understanding finally dawning in his eyes.

And the last horse crosses the line. Ryan thought. There was another thud and part of the wall crumpled inward. Anger surged through the editor once more. He didn’t have time for this. For all he knew the twins had already called for reinforcements.

“Yes. Me. Ryan Richards. The former cripple. The same former cripple who has lost a lot since he woke up and is just about ready to take some of that out on your smarmy little face. Now. Talk.” He hadn’t meant to, but he’d nearly bellowed that last part into the man’s face. The edges of his vision were also starting to go red.

Ryan had buried his concern for his father’s safety deep down since waking up and learning he was missing. Logically, Ryan also knew that Michael and the others must have tried to find him. And with as many clones as Michael could make, they’d probably covered more ground than he could have. Given the circumstances, it was also entirely likely his dad had fallen somewhere early on in the city’s takeover. It would be just like the old doctor to bite it while taking a bullet for someone else.

But since no body had been found, Ryan had held out hope. Half the reason he’d organized Lucas and the rest for search missions was he’d figured his old man must have gotten a valuable power and been taken. He could think of no other reason why his father hadn’t been there when he’d woken up. If the old man had been alive - he would’ve been there.

Unfortunately for McCarthy, that also meant that if anyone knew where Dr. Richards had gone - it was him. And Ryan would have that answer.

One way or another.

Shouts and another shuddering impact broke through a section of wall roughly a foot in diameter. Some of McCarthy’s former resistance began to return behind his eyes. Ryan followed the man’s gaze to what looked like the business end of a sledgehammer poking through the wall. Then it retracted.

How did they even find one of those? Ryan thought incredulously. Then his last bit of reserve snapped. He was so close to getting some real answers, he wasn’t about to be interrupted by a pair of over-eager elves. The editor stood and placed one hand on the wall, locking eyes with McCarthy who glared up at him with renewed defiance.

“You read my power, yeah? ‘To shape the universe’? And you think just because they have a hammer you’re suddenly safe?” Ryan asked the man with as much scathing incredulity as he could muster while accessing his power. The wall separating McCarthy from rescue rapidly transformed itself into hardened concrete. 65 points. 173 left.

The pair stared at one another while the color slowly drained out of the big man’s face. His defiant eyes lost their resistance as the entire adjoining wall quickly made rescue impossible. At least, within any sort of reasonable time frame.

When it was finished, Ryan pointed his metal melt-stick as if it were a gun. “Talk.” The editor demanded simply. He gave no more threats. McCarthy was his now, for as long as Ryan wished. And they both knew it.

McCarthy shimmied a bit, as if there were a bit of concrete jammed up his backside. Which wasn't entirely unlikely. Then he sighed.

"We knew about you from the start. First thing our dear mayor ordered once we figured out what it meant was an accounting of anyone still in… stasis. Every patient in every room of this building was catalogued by day's end."

"Then… why didn't you just take them? Or me?" As far as Ryan knew, the cocoon hadn't offered much in the way of active protection. From what Lucas had told him, it hadn’t been that hard to penetrate either. Those inside were practically helpless.

"We did. They're down below. The ones he hasn't gotten to yet, anyway. But you… we tried. Twice. Both times, the floor nurse later found our men burned to ash. After that, I figured you were already here so… why force it? Better just to wait and see what you’d become."

"And my friends?"

"When they weren't immediately rendered down to embers like the others… I wasn't going to say no to additional security. Our position wasn't as secure then as it is now, and I felt reasonably certain we could get to you if the need arose."

Ryan considered that. It did make a certain amount of sense. And McCarthy had shown up pretty quickly. "So you're in charge here, then?"

McCarthy winced, but seemed to realize his position was unlikely to get worse by admitting it. "Yes." He answered with no small amount of reluctance.

"And our first meeting? Those thugs that attacked us? That was you." It wasn't really a question.

More reluctance. "... Yes. When I reported what your power was - or at least, what you told me it was - you were deemed too dangerous to live. Too volatile. Rumor has it others who… baked nearly as long as you did were capable of leveling entire cities. Sometimes by accident. What if you were the same? What if you were worse? We couldn’t risk that many lives on the off chance you’d learn to control yourself in time.”

When Ryan had first met McCarthy, he'd convinced the older man that his power was both uncontrollable and blew up anything he touched. It had been an off-the-cuff lie to get him off Ryan’s back at the time, since McCarthy’s ability to detect the power of others also worked through touch. Apparently, the lie had gone much further.

Ryan snorted. “Bullshit. More like Marcus wasn’t willing to risk blowing up just to brainwash me.”

McCarthy was silent at that. Which told Ryan all he needed to know about the accuracy of his last statement. The mayor had to touch people to control them. If he couldn’t, there was no point in keeping someone around who might end up being a risk.

Again, it made a certain sick sort of sense. I had a similar justification for the blood oaths. I just didn’t have anyone killed for refusing. And they still have free will.

Dull thuds came through the concrete. The sound of a sledgehammer raining down in the hands of someone with a temper and a lot of muscle. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to be all that effective.

Still. Best to keep moving things along.

“Where is my father?” Ryan asked slowly, before the silence could stretch on much longer. “And don’t tell me you don’t know. He was a doctor here. He might’ve gotten a healing power. I’m sure you must’ve checked into everyone on the hospital’s payroll for that alone.” His voice was calmer than he’d expected it to be, though there was unmistakable steel in it.

There was a pause. One in which McCarthy wouldn't quite meet his eyes.

"... Dead." McCarthy admitted. The news hit Ryan in the gut harder than the dragon aspect ever had. He tried, and probably failed, to keep that from his face.

Slowly, he asked. "How?"

"... Best we could tell, his car slammed into the back of a truck with metal piping in it. Went straight through him. Must have happened just as everyone went under, because he wasn't in a cocoon yet."

There were a lot of scenarios Ryan was prepared to hear. His father dying right before the whole world went super… hadn’t been one of them. It was like a cruel joke. The man who'd dedicated his life to saving others died right before he might've gotten the power to do so. To heal the injured without dealing with any of the bureaucracy that had made his later years in the field so miserable.

It was a lot to take in. But there'd be time for that later.

"His body?"

"Incinerated. With so many dead, the crematorium has been running nonstop. It's the only sure way to prevent… issues… when the family can't be reached."

Ryan gritted his teeth in frustration. His power had let him heal just about any injury so far. If he'd had his father's body, he might've tried… No. Keep your cool. Chalk it up to a visit for later.

Something bothered Ryan about that last statement.

"What issues?"

"The one where they don't stay dead." McCarthy responded with an eye roll as if Ryan were being obtuse on purpose.

"Don't tell me you haven't seen it. Seriously? You're the ones who attacked the school." McCarthy scrutinized him, reading the answer to his query from Ryan's features. The big man looked at him with genuine curiosity despite his predicament.

"You haven't. You don't know." He said slowly, shifting to get more comfortable. "What did you do with the bodies? What happened to our men, after you killed them? Or did you? They never reported in."

There was no benefit for Ryan in answering. So he didn't. Instead, he moved past it as if the man hadn't spoken. Though the implications that there might be super zombies shambling about somewhere - presuming McCarthy wasn’t fucking with him - was definitely worrisome. That seemed like the sort of thing Lucas would’ve reported.

"Who guards Marcus? What kind of powers does he have in his inner circle?"

"You can't seriously mean to--"

Ryan cut him off. "I can, actually. Now talk. Much as you might deserve it, I’d prefer not to kill you. So tell me what I need and when the mayor goes down maybe there’s still room for you in Arborville."

The obvious bait in his word choice caught McCarthy's attention immediately. The politician’s gleam re-entered the man’s eyes for the first time since he’d walked in. "What kind of room?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The discussion that followed passed by quickly. McCarthy, now properly motivated, revealed a great deal about their lovely mayor's operations and defenses. The sheer extent of it was… sobering. When Ryan's questions ran out, he grabbed his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder. He’d long since freed McCarthy, who had then told the others to stand down through a hole they’d made from an adjoining room.

The metal stick stayed in Ryan’s hand, but it was held loosely. He didn’t expect Chester to try anything. Not with him right here, anyway. The elf twins continued to watch him, though not with the same malevolence they’d had after caving in the wall. Now it was merely cautious. Maybe even curious.

“So, that’s it then? Just like that?” McCarthy asked, wiping the blood from his palm with a handkerchief he’d somehow kept clean earlier.

“Just like that.” Ryan affirmed. He was ready to leave. Renee should’ve been back by now. He could only hope the fact that she hadn’t meant they’d gotten out. McCarthy’s goons hadn’t mentioned a security incident, so Ryan hadn’t supplied that one might be taking place. Distraction indeed.

“Marvelous.” Chester muttered as Ryan opened the now-normal door. “Oh, before you go.”

Ryan paused at the entryway, one foot already in the hallway.

Chester gestured to one of the elves, who tossed the editor something small and oval-shaped. Ryan caught it with his free hand, then froze when he realized what it was. He glanced back at Chester with an eyebrow raised.

The big man just grinned savagely in response - the smile reaching his eyes for the first time. “Never let it be said that Chester McCarthy does not a good ally make.”

… Did she have this the whole time!?