Chương 23: Lies Do A Villain Make

Luther Kincaid stumbled into an alley a couple blocks from the police station. He swiped angrily, and uselessly, at the fire suppression foam that coated him from head to toe. I'm gonna murder that asshole when I see him again. Nobody messes with Luther Kincaid. Benny followed close behind, shaking himself like a dog and flinging foam in every direction. Luther spun on him, snarling.

"The hell you mean it was the perfect time, eh?" Benny held out something in his hands. The diary. The one they'd been sent to retrieve by the big lady. Inside were years of transaction records tying their operations to a long list of well-respected, highly appointed people.

"The whispers are never wrong, boss!" Benny chuckled, twitching and blinking erratically.

"Talkin' about you and your bloody whispers. What was that back there?" Benny blinked at him, blank as a fish.

"Whatcha mean, boss?" Luther stared, trying to figure out if this was some kind of joke.

"What you mean, what-you-mean? You were ranting about the end of the world, blood and fury, magic and robot gods!" Benny cocked his head. Foam slid down his face and dripped from his chin.

"No I wasn't." Luther seriously considered feeding him to the dogs. Then he sighed, turned, and trudged home, Benny trailing behind. Alexander let out a small sigh of relief as the portal closed behind them, the team safely back in Augustus' living room. The others exhaled in near-unison, tension bleeding away. Then Annie broke the quiet with a delighted squeal, bouncing across the room.

"Who are the biggest, baddest supers on the block?" She struck a pose, one hand on her hip and the other pointing at the ceiling.

"We are!" Talia collected the blood and hair samples and rinsed them down the drain. She dried her hands on a dish towel before tossing the remnants in the trash.

"With that, it's only a matter of time before they realize they have no case against Frank and cut him loose," Augustus said, removing his cap as he sat on the sofa. He gestured to a door leading off the living room.

"Guest room's through there. Two singles, ensuite. Sort yourselves out however you like." Annie vaulted over the back of the sofa and landed beside him.

"Can I stream my show?" He nodded, standing again and heading for his bedroom.

"I'll prepare some food in a couple hours. Any allergies?" Murmurs of "no" or something close came from everyone. Talia joined Annie on the couch, Annie already flipping to a popular streaming service to continue where she'd left off with the psychic corgi. Alexander headed for the guest room.

"I'm going to get cleaned up and crash for a couple of hours." Augustus paused at the threshold.

"I'll step out in a bit and pick up some spare clothes for everyone." Alexander nodded his thanks and shut the door behind him. A knock startled him awake. He sat up, heart pounding, and took a moment to get his bearings. Right. Auggy's guest room.

"What is it?" he called.

"You're going to want to see this, Alex. And Auggy's got food and fresh clothes for us," Talia said, her voice muffled through the door. Yawning, he checked his implant. 9: 02 a. m. He'd managed a few hours of sleep, though he somehow felt worse now than before. Joining the others in the living room, he was immediately assaulted by the smell of breakfast and coffee. And it was going fast. He hurried to the table and grabbed his share before Annie could pile the rest onto her plate, giving her a mock glare.

"Where would you even fit it all?" She sniffed, feigning offense.

"Hmph. It's going to go straight to my height, I'll have you know. You'll be my sidekick one day, you'll see." Auggy chuckled, snagging a few strips of bacon for himself as he passed. He'd traded his suit for jeans, a light tee, and an apron. Everyone else was already in fresh clothes. Alexander spotted a bag nearby and assumed it was his.

"What is it I needed to see?" he asked.

"We were watching this delightful show Annie introduced us to—" Augustus began. Alexander groaned. The infection was spreading.

"—when there was an announcement about a press conference being held by the governor. Could be related to us, so Talia decided to wake you."

"That, and Annie was about to eat your breakfast," Talia added. Annie mumbled something defensive around her toast. Talia unmuted the holo. The broadcast was already in progress. The camera feed showed the district governor's office, every major news outlet present. At the podium stood the governor himself, sweating slightly under the lights as he spoke about unity, leadership, and the need to stamp out villainy. But it wasn't the governor that caught their attention.

Seated just behind him, either side of the podium, were several prominent figures. None more recognizable than Flashpoint himself. The four of them exchanged a look.

"Oh no," Annie muttered through a mouth of toast. The governor finished, shook Flashpoint's hand, and stepped aside. Flashpoint moved to the podium with all the gravity of a war hero returning from the front. This was not the man they'd left bleeding on the floor of The Hollowed Die. He wore a full-body suit of black and crimson composite armor. It was sleek and contoured, gleaming under the stage lights. The material flexed with each stride, tailored as much for combat as for theatre.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. The surface details stood out most: slash marks carved across the chestplate, a melted edge on the right gauntlet, fractures spiderwebbing in multiple places. Gold-trimmed pauldrons framed his shoulders. A long red cape flowed behind him, hemmed in gold. His matte black helmet, crimson flames painted along the sides and back, was tucked beneath his arm. But the eyepatch stole the show.

Black and pristine, it bore a stylized phoenix mid-ascent, wings spread in rising fire. He walked with deliberate tempo and perfect posture, eye forward in grim defiance. A portrait of righteousness. A martyr reborn. And every detail had been staged.

"How pretentious. He had all of that custom-made for this," Alexander muttered.

"But how?" Annie asked.

"It's barely been five hours!"

"AEGIS," Talia said.

"Either they believe his story and want to leverage it for publicity, or they don't care and plan to use him anyway." Flashpoint stood at the podium, jaw clenched as though fighting back pain.

"My friends," he began, voice heavy, "the incident at The Hollowed Die was a carefully orchestrated ambush by four superpowered individuals. The fugitives used overwhelming force and insider intelligence to cripple a legitimate investigation… and nearly took my life." Annie's string of curses, half muffled by toast, impressed even Auggy.

"The traitor aiding them is now known to us. Talia Kim, once a vigilante turned AEGIS investigator, was caught providing intelligence to two escaped fugitives from the recent prison break; an event orchestrated by the supervillain Skybreaker." On cue, images flashed onto the holo: Talia's AEGIS personnel photo. Annie's outdated prison intake photo. Then a sketched likeness of Alexander's face. He squinted at it.

"That's… not half bad."

"Almost flattering," Talia agreed dryly.

"Annette Sheridan's male accomplice remains unidentified," Flashpoint continued, "but I can confirm he is a Class R supervillain in possession of a power within the Technopathic sphere." The room erupted. Reporters shouted over each other, demanding answers. The governor returned to the podium to calm the chaos while Flashpoint stepped back, eyepatch gleaming. Alexander turned to Talia.

"How come they don't know my name?"

"I kept Frank's employee records for myself," she answered, eyes fixed on the holo. He felt an odd sense of gratitude. But the segment wasn't finished. Another image appeared: Augustus Greaves in a military uniform, at parade rest. The nameplate read: Retired Captain, Space Force.

"The final member of this group is Augustus Greaves. It was his bar where they planned and executed the ambush, and it was through his powers that they escaped once they realized they were outmatched even four to one. Little is known beyond his retirement from the service." Then Flashpoint stared dramatically into the camera.

"These individuals are to be considered extremely dangerous. If seen, do not approach. Notify AEGIS or a local superhero immediately." He stepped back, leaving the governor to handle questions. The first was loud and clear: were the villains behind the precinct attack the same as those responsible for The Hollowed Die? The governor refused to comment on an active investigation. Alexander let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Looks like we pulled it off," Talia said.

"They don't know it was us." Annie grinned, about to celebrate, then froze.

"Wait… did he say four-to-one? That lying piece of shit!"

"Technically, he's not wrong. I was there at the end," Augustus said calmly.

"But we must turn to more serious matters. We need to leave." Talia nodded.

"I'm surprised they haven't already surrounded us."

"This property's in a friend's name," Augustus explained.

"It won't take them long. I have another place outside the city, a getaway home. Three-hour drive. Owned by a shell corporation through my old unit. We'll be safe there." He stood, then hesitated.

"Apologies. Force of habit. Old instincts, you know? I didn't mean to speak for all of you." Talia smiled.

"Thank you, Auggy. I accept." Annie's glance told Alexander everything he needed.

"We're coming too," he said.

"The only question is… portal or car?"

"Let me pack a few things first. Then I'll get started on the portal," Augustus replied, heading for his room.

"I'll rely on you three to pack everything else. Please don't forget my photo collection." Annie bolted.

"Dibs on the armory!" Twenty minutes later they were lugging duffle bags full of weapons, clothes, photo frames, and kitchen equipment. Augustus apparently doubled as an amateur chef. Then they were gone, Argentum left behind. The estate wasn't what Alexander expected. Not that he'd had any idea of what an estate really meant until they arrived. Nestled three hours outside the city, or ten minutes by portal, the three-story mansion sat on the edge of a forested ridge overlooking a lake fed by a mountain river.

Floor-to-ceiling windows and wraparound balconies gleamed with hardwood and polished steel. Two kitchens, seven bedrooms, four bathrooms. A gym. A theatre. Indoor and outdoor pools. Surveillance shielding enough to shame a spy agency. And, of course, another Auggy-style game room. The place was serene. Quiet. And almost a little too clean, though he figured that would change quickly once Annie got settled in.

It was barely after ten in the morning, but Alexander claimed a third-floor bedroom with a lake view and took another quick nap. He slept through the next two days. Sunlight warmed his face when he finally woke, birdsong filtering through the curtained balcony. He blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling. Right. Auggy's estate. His very large, probably very expensive estate. 7: 14 a. m., his implant told him. He stretched, braced for soreness that never came.

It had been a while since he had woken with no lingering tension, no jolts of adrenaline. Just… quiet. Almost suspiciously quiet. He dressed and splashed water on his face before padding downstairs. The smell of breakfast hit first. Something buttery and savory assaulted his senses. Is that what I think it is? His stomach growled. In the open plan kitchen, Augustus plated a full continental spread: fruit, pastries, toast, bacon, eggs, sausages, coffee, juice, tea… pancakes.

"Morning," Augustus said, flicking off the stove.

"You're just in time." Alexander hesitated.

"Two days?"

"Pretty much," Augustus said.

"Annie said you needed it. And after she regaled us with the tale of everything you two had been through, we didn't want to disturb you. Even after she started wondering if you'd died in your sleep." The others were already at the table. Annie hummed through a mouthful of eggs, clearly on her second plate. Talia sipped coffee while scrolling on a tablet, smiling a quick greeting before looking back down. Annie mumbled something around her food that might have been "good morning." It surprised him how…

normal it felt. The days blurred together after that. In a good way. Augustus made breakfast every morning and dinner every night, filling the kitchen with smells and the occasional fight over seconds. He cooked like a man who'd missed having people to feed. Evenings brought what he grandly titled Strategic Training Time with holo-versions of classic board games. Chess. Catan. Nemesis. Even a hyper-detailed Gloomhaven reprint he'd bragged about for an hour. Everyone joined in.

Annie committed herself to catching up on The Adventures of the Galactic Barkforce, swearing its deep, emotional plot would blow their minds. Talia and Auggy humored her, though Alexander caught Talia wiping her eyes more than once. The series already had over three thousand episodes and was ongoing. Talia had her own rhythm. Two hours in the gym every morning. Cardio and weights, followed by circuit drills. She didn't talk much, but she let Alexander join, correcting his form with experienced precision.

Whenever she wasn't doing something else, she was flicking across a tablet with a touch of aggressiveness that scared him. By day three Annie had joined too, determined to outpace them. She put Alexander to shame, though he was closing the gap. Talia, somehow, always finished fresher than both of them combined. Annie kept joining them anyway. A week into their stay, Augustus invited Alexander to join him on his midday hike into the forest.

He talked a little about terrain and tracks but mostly kept to companionable silence. The lake turned out to be the perfect place for a daily swim. Within days the others joined the hikes as well, even Annie treating the quiet like something sacred. She still insisted on adding a light picnic to the routine though. A rhythm settled in. It was a chance for them to breathe, and a time to heal. In a way, it was like having a family again: the good kind, built on shared experiences rather than hovering expectations.

It was peaceful. And peace, Alexander decided, was good for the soul.