I walked in a sleepish daze down the road leading toward town. The moon and stars just barely let me see the tall pine trees on either side of the road, and the fog lurking just beyond them.

How did I get here? Thoughts like that one threatened to clog my brain, but I paid it little to no mind. Maybe I was just too sleepy to think straight, maybe it was something else. Either way, that didn’t matter right now, what does matter is getting home, sleeping in my comfy, warm bed. Oh how cold it was, it felt like a thin blanket on a cold night, bringing more cold rather than warmth. Thinking about the cold only really made it worse.

A twinge of warmth filled my chest as I reached the peak of the small hill I was walking up. The hill that always made me know that home was just on the other side. Thank god. I saw the green sign reading ‘Welcome to Cramlink’. I couldn’t read the sign now, as it was too dark, but of course I knew what it said. Just beyond that I saw the bright yellow and white lights of the town.

Now, maybe it was the sleepiness talking, or something else, but I couldn’t help but feel a creeping suspicion. That place, those lights. They looked… off. I couldn’t place what it was exactly, but the feeling was most definitely there.

My suspicions were confirmed when I inched closer to the town sign, getting right up next to it and about to walk past when I saw something. I couldn’t read the letters unless I focused on them, but just seeing the blur of shapes, it wasn’t what it usually looked like. It wasn’t those letters I’d see driving into town after a late shift at my desk job just the town over. I focused closer on the sign.

It read, ‘You can easily go back to the past. But no one is there anymore.’. What? Maybe it was some kind of weird prank that some kids did for people driving by. Maybe the city thought it’d be fun to pull a joke like that. Of course! That had to be it! Nothing else would explain it better than that! 

So I carried on, inching closer to the town.

The Dewdrop gas station greeted me as I entered town, the classic logo of the water droplet about to fall from the pine needle was almost blinding at this time of night. The lights inside, too, were on. I huffed from relief, and began to walk to the building, even as my face and hands began to go numb from the cold.

Beep, Beep!

The familiar sound greeted me when I opened the glass doors of the place. Most times, I probably wouldn’t be relieved to see a run down, mold infested gas station. This time was different. I grabbed chicken tenders and some coffee to get me through the rest of the journey back home, and walked up to the counter. I set my stuff down and looked up at the cashier, there wasn’t anyone there.

Ok, I’ll just go to the next one over. I grabbed my things and did just that, but looking at the small checkout line, yet no one was there. I looked around the store, no one.

You can easily go back to the past. But no one is there anymore.

Pyraxis and Axion-9 walked alongside each other on the sidewalk of the bustling city of Yester, sharing an umbrella raised above their heads. One of the few things that the two heroes had in common was that neither of their powers let them interact with rain, as was the forecast for today. Pyraxis, because he needed to keep his body both warm and dry if he expected to use his powers at all. Axion-9 because, well, they were an older AI model, back when their bodies weren’t waterproof.

Pyraxis was 5’7, his hair was up in a ponytail, with some hair still loose below it. He had amber eyes that complimented his light brown skin and dark brown hair, though you wouldn’t see his eyes, for they were below a pair of sunglasses. He wasn’t in costume today, so he only wore a beige shirt under a red aviator jacket, with some baggy cargo pants.

Axion-9’s was easily 6 foot. Their head was silver, resembling more of the shape of a skull rather than an actual head, with neon blue glowing eyes in the sockets. Axion-9, unlike Pyraxis, was always dressed the same, even when it was saving people or a night out with the team, though this had never been a problem, because there were plenty of AI robots that were the same model as Axion.

The two walked through the city’s harbor, Pyraxis strolling confidently while Axion walked with intent, with precision in their steps. The sea wasn’t exactly beautiful today, though. It was gloomy, the sky was a grey and the air was a sickly yellow. The only things in the water were the same cargo ships that were there every other day. The two walked by the warehouses that stood just by the sea, separated only by a path so that workers could get to them. But they were there for a different reason. One other than working as a truck driver, the only other folks that seemed to pass through this area.

The two eventually made it to one warehouse, more worn down from the rest, though even that was a challenge. Weeds had sprouted from the cracks of the concrete around the building, graffiti had decorated its exterior walls, and from a distance, even from a distance, holes could be seen on the roof. They walked up to its big sheet metal-looking door, where a dormant screen was waiting right beside it, only a slight bit smaller than a phone screen.

The two considered each other. Pyraxis said, “what’re you waiting for? You’re the only one that can actually open the thing! Go on, bolt boy. Do your little robo-thing.”

Axion didn’t say a word, they only lifted their hand to the blank screen. They wrapped their hand around it in a way where only their palm was covering the screen. At that moment, the screen began to light up, the same color as their neon blue eyes.

Wiirrrrrrr… click, click, click… thump!

The warehouse door began to open. Only one door sized part of the sheet metal door drew back with a hiss, as steam billowed out. The hidden door then divided into two, both retreating into their respective sides, vanishing into the darkness of the warehouse.

Pyraxis shoved Axion out of the way, playfully, and made his way into the darkness of the warehouse.

As Pyraxis’ eyes adjusted to the light, and as Axion’s night vision switched on, the two could see the same sight that they’d always seen, a second home. It was the secret base of the Solox Heroes. 

The warehouse was mostly empty. A dirty concrete floor, yet to be cleaned, in one corner was a desk and chair with light illuminating it. Their fellow hero, Syncth, sitting in it, studying a cork board with heroes and villains alike strewn about it. In another corner hung fairy lights, it was the only portion of the base with a soft flooring, and it was a small one at that. A fluffy purple rug sat beneath multiple, colorful bean bags. A singular minifridge sat between all of them, staining the floor beneath it an ugly brown. 

Of course, there were other things in the base, there was a ping pong table in the center, a TV on the sheet metal wall with a torn and weathered couch facing it. It was right to assume that this group of heroes weren't the most funded hero squad in the city. If someone were looking for that, they’d be better off at the doorstep of the Atlas Alliance or the Uranium Union. Even the Plav team was more iconic than the Solox heroes. 

But of course, the team still did their part. They stuck to their corner of the city and they protected it with their lives.

“Wess! Hey!” Pyraxis cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled over to the hero Syncth. A blonde man, his hair kept in a side part. He had his costume on, a spandex black and purple suit, with a vortex symbol in the chest. A mask with devil horns covered his eyes, making them a void-like white color.

Syncth turned to the two from the other end of the warehouse, “oh! Hey! I wanna show you something, come over here,” his voice was more tired than usual, more monotone.

Clickclickkkk… clickclickkkkk… clickclickkkk…

The pair’s footsteps echoed as they made their way to Syncth. Getting closer, they could finally see the condition he was in. His hair was messy and disheveled, his eyes were slightly bloodshot, with bags under them as they struggled to stay open.

“Shit man, you’re not looking too hot, what's going on?” Pyraxis asked, concerned in his voice.

“Yes, yes. I’m mostly fine, just a few lost hours of sleep. Nothing that we hadn’t dealt with before, isn’t that right?” He asked as he began to laugh uncontrollably.

Axion ignored him, however, instead turning their attention to the cork board with the photos of big time heroes like Atlas, the Druid, Zap Girl, all members of the Atlas Alliance. Each of them had hundreds of strings connecting them to different places and people. One of which stood out above all the rest, Mongerer, a former member of their own team. So Axion asked, “what is this?” 

Syncth stopped laughing almost immediately, taking on a more serious tone, “this, Axion, is how we take revenge for the death of Mongerer.”

Pyraxis felt a pit beginning to form in his stomach, “what? What's that supposed to mean?”

Axion put a cold, metal hand on Syncth’s shoulder, “Syncth…”

“Don’t touch me!” He forced Axion’s hand off.

“C’mon man,” Pyraxis reasoned, “she was killed by the Gecko, we were all there. The Geckos already behind bars, justice has already come to her.”

“I’m not talking about her!” He slammed a fist onto the corkboard, a single finger pointed up at the three members of the Atlas Alliance, “I’m talking about the three bastards who were just three blocks away, drinking fucking coffee while we got our asses kicked!”

Axion started again, “syncth-”

“AND WHILE MONGERER DIED!” he paused for a moment, regaining himself, “does that really mean nothing to you?”

At this, Pyraxis burst out in anger, “how could you say that, man? She meant just as much to us as she did to you! You’re not the only one that had to go through her death!”

Syncth clenched his fists, “then where is your anger? Where's your hate for the Atlas Alliance?”

Axion tried to speak again, “boys. We can settle this like-”

“OF COURSE I’M MAD!” Pyraxis began, “I fuckin’ hate those guys! I hate them so, so much. But plotting to bring about their downfall or whatever isn’t gonna solve anything,” he paused, “it's not gonna bring Mongerer back.”

“Shut up,” Syncth clenched his fist.

“What’re you gonna do if I don’t? Huh?” Pyraxis snapped his fingers, sparks flying off.

Axion tried one last time to disrupt, “please-”

“I said shut up!”

Pyraxis’ whole fist had erupted into flame at this point, “I’m not gonna stand by while you try to kill some of the city’s greatest heroes.”

Syncth paused before he said, “I’m sorry, this is for the greater good.” 

He seemed to collapse in on himself, like a whirlpool. He then appeared behind Pyraxis, slamming a fist into his back. Pyraxis fell to the ground while Axion lept toward Syncth, holding him in the air by his neck.

“Please, Axi. Don’t you trust me?” he teleported once more, just to the side of Axion.

Before he could do anything, a flame had shot at Syncth’s chest, then another, and another, “you always acted like you were better than me, like we all were!” Pyraxis practically screamed at Syncth.

Syncth jumped through the flames as they seared his skin, “I am, Mateo. You’ve just proved it by showing that you aren’t able to see reason,” he punched Pyraxis on the cheek, making him stumble, but not fall.

Pyraxis put a hand to his mouth, bringing it to his view to see a tooth drenched in blood, “how the fuck is any of this reason?”

Axion’s back extended as small bottle sized rockets shot out, but they quickly vanished, as they appeared behind Axion, just in line to hit them. 

The light in Axion’s eyes faded, Syncth only said, “they were always the weakest of us, Mateo! We had to walk on eggshells just to keep them alive!”

“OH SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Pyraxis leaned in, using his whole body to punch Syncth on the side of the head with a fist covered in flames. 

Syncth fell to the ground, “did Mongerer’s death mean nothing to you?”

Pyraxis slammed a foot against his chest, “you’re acting like you’re the only one that had to go through that. She was our friend too!”

Syncth’s body began to warp into the same whirlpool shape, “then you should understand what comes next,” and like that, he had left.

The foremast of the ship began to creak, slowly at first, until it began to pick up speed, falling down into the ocean. It hit the side of the great leviathan, which only seemed to make it angier, it only wanted to sink the ship more.

The desperate crew members threw everything they had at the gargantuan beast. They threw their harpoons, canon balls, bullets, even bombs. The only weapon doing real damage were the canons, which quickly ran out of ammunition.

Briar, the captain’s first mate, scrambled from below deck, holding in her hands a cannonball. The last she was able to find was behind a pile of barrels and crates in storage. Quickly, she ran to one of the last cannons, all the others were either bent like a tin can or cast into the sea. As swiftly as she could, she loaded it, setting the fuse ablaze even before she began to aim it. She turned the scolding hot metal of the canon, aiming it up, right at the neck of the dragon-like beast. Its bioluminescent spots called to her, drawing her to the deep blue.

No.

That would not stop Briar Centsworth from getting her justice. Those damned lights alone were enough to send half the crew walking off the side of the ship when it first erupted from the depths. But even still, how could she fight the urge? It was just a simple swim.

KABOOM!

During this eternal conflict, the universe decided for her. The cannon that she had helped in her hands stayed true to its goal, even when she did not. She watched as the cannonball arched, as the smoke cut a line in the sky. It hit the beast’s neck spot on in the center, right between the two dark blue plates of armor.

SCRAAAAWW!

It made a terrible, booming noise as it turned and dove into the sea, maybe enough to deafen half the upstanding pirates on the nine seas. But at least it were over, she turned,  looking around at the ship, two of the three masts had gone, she counted ten of twelve cannons that had been broken or lost, barrels strewn about the deck, rolling out of place, and the crew, lying on the floor, the dead and living alike.

She fell to the floor, resting her head against the still searing metal of the cannon. It wasn’t comfortable, but neither were half the spots on the ship. She sighed and closed her eyes.

“Cap’n!” a crew member yelled from the crowsnest of the still standing mast, “the wat’r! There's something there!”

As he said that, she looked up, to see two terrible, spear-like jaws had risen from the ocean, rising high above any lighthouse. With razor sharp teeth, all as sharp as harpoons, with the length of spears.

Briar’s stomach dropped as the two jaws slowly began to close in, with seemingly no problem cutting through the ship.

The only real thing I felt to start that early morning was a punch right on the temple. I stumbled back, bringing my hand up to my temple only to bring it back down, seeing that it had begun to bleed. I was confused until I looked up in front of me, looking into the alley that eerily sat between that old rickety theater and the general store, I saw Cody Manson standing all cocky like, holding his knuckles with his other hand, cracking them. Behind him were all his lackeys.

It was still dark out, so I couldn’t get much of a good look at the guy, but it was just enough to see that ugly, beaten up face of his and that dirt stained tank top that he always wore no matter how cold it was out, which it usually was on these kind of cold appalachian mornings.

I barely had time to stand myself back up again when Cody was already on me again, giving me a terrible hit to the stomach, making hunch forward as I dropped to my knees and a good amount of blood rocketed out of my mouth.

I was too focused on trying not to give into the dizziness that I couldn’t hear Cody’s footsteps coming up close to me. He grabbed me by the hair and looked dead in my eyes, “is it true you've been seeing my girl, Blackwood?” I could feel his saliva raining down on my face as he spat out those words, his breath was almost enough to send me into a coma.

“I wouldn’t dare,” I said, raspy and through coughs, “her mug isn’t exactly pretty anyway,” I ended my statement with a bitter laugh, though it sounded more like a fit of coughs.

“Oh you maggot!” one of his lackeys, Marco Florez, walked up, kicking me in the side of the head, keeping his hands in his pockets as if he were some hotshot. He then spoke to Cody, “he's obviously lying! Let's just get it over with, Manson,” he walked back to his spot among the other followers, patting Cody on the shoulder as he walked by.

Florez’s words apparently resonated with Cody, as his eyes shot daggers right through my head. Then he raised his fist high above his head, using his whole body to reel back, and just as his fist cut through the air like a dull and tattered knife…

It all slowed.

Everything slowed. Cody’s fist rapidly lost speed until it slowed to the pace of one of those sloths in the jungles. One of his goons, Hunter, cackled behind him. That became some weird, deep, demonically slow bellow. Even the flickering of them street lights slowed down.

I looked around more, though at that point it probably hurt to even think about turning my head. Everything had taken on a slight red tint. Not too much, but definitely enough to give that dark blue sky a deep purple hue and that mellow shade of the full moon become more of a neon red. Though those things would have to be the least of my worries, because standing right in front of me, looking at me from a few yards down the sidewalk, with that same mysterious curiosity that those deer did while passing them on the street, was a pure black wolf.

It was so dark in fact, that I struggled to see any of its features, only those pure white eyes, those sharp spikes of fur, and that pocket watch with a chain tied around its muzzle, clamping it shut.

The wolf looked at me, and I looked at it. Both unmoving. 

Until, finally, I heard a deep voice bellow out from inside my head, like Hunter’s bellowing laughs, “spit your blood out of your mouth, son. Bare your teeth. Go down savage if you must. Go down fighting.”

“Huh?” I blinked, and somehow that was all the time that little bastard needed to vanish into thin air, “bastard…”

Though the cryptid thing was gone, everything was still slow, which I decided to use to my advantage.

I put my hand into my jean pocket, whipping out my button lock pocket knife and sticking it right into Cody’s side. I was just about to take it out and go for another round when I noticed that time seemed to be speeding back up. The laughing of that bastard Hunter steadily got more high pitched, back to his whiny tone.

So, knowing I couldn’t take all those dudes at once, I took the cowards way out. I removed the knife from his side, blood spilling out from the tip of the knife and a red stain already developing on his white t-shirt. Luckily, he removed his hand from my hair when I stabbed him, so I turned and ran like mad.

I was wobbly at first, almost falling over, thinking that’d sure by the death of me, but I somewhat steadied myself. Rushing for the rusty metal bike rack right in front of the barber’s.

I briefly looked back behind me to see those idiots hadn’t even started chasing me yet, Cody was still frozen, looking at his newly earned wound, and his lackeys behind him were all looking at him, as if waiting to see what he’d do next.

I looked back in front of me, finding myself right in front of the bike rack. The only bike there being a snazzy Azure blue color with caramel brown wheels, along its side was a custom made sticker I got saying “USS BLACKWOOD”. I ran like mad to it, reaching my hand out to the lock that tied it to the rack, while also fishing around in my pocket to find the key that went to it.

I looked behind me, they were onto me now, already running in my direction. I still couldn’t find that damned key. My eyes were locked on them now, still fishing around for that baby-carrot-sized silver key.

“Gocha,” I whispered as I felt the familiar, uncomfortably warm metal against my fingertip, taking it out. Meanwhile, Cody and his little gang of scoundrels weren’t more than two or three yards away. I whispered, “shit, shit, shit, shit,” under my breath, fiddling with the lock, the sweat on my hand mixing with the blood that had catched some of the excess of the knife.

Finally, I got the lock, swiftly backing the bike out of the rack, and hopping on it as soon as it was out. I put my feet on the pedals, just starting to pick up speed as I felt a hand connect to the hood of my jacket.

I barely needed to turn back to see in my peripherals. Cody had just barely put his hand on my hood, luckily, just a bit of speed was enough to get him off, sending him flying forward and eating the pavement. 

I looked back ahead, almost hitting a truck on a surprise crosswalk as I did. Thankfully I stopped just in time, unfortunately, so too did the truck. The windows were tinted so I was only left to think what the very likely middle aged, out-of-his-prime, pissy old man looked like.

The driver’s side door was open, the one that was on the other side of the truck, so my stomach dropped as the footsteps started to rapidly come around the thing, thinking I’d for sure be fighting on one more front now.

I saw a relatively short girl with big, puffy, curly blonde hair. She wore a baby blue button up shirt tucked into waist-high, stoney blue corduroy pants, both covered in splatters of various colors of paint. Thank god, I thought, it's Maria. Her stormy grey eyes were wide, “Blackwood! Get in!”

Glancing behind me, I saw Cody and co. gaining on me quickly. So, begrudgingly, I left my bike behind, the metal clattered against the concrete sidewalk as I swung open the passenger door of the truck, hopping in. I was too out of breath, and my adrenaline was too high to notice that Maria was already there, and as soon as the door closed, the car went, gaining speed faster than a rocket, going 30 in what had to be a 20 zone. 

She spoke, her eyes staying glued onto the road, “what the fuck did you do this time, Steph?”

I huffed, the surprise from the immediate start of the car still weighing on me a bit, “Manson thinks his girlfriend cheated on him with me.”

“Well?”

“What?”

She sighed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “did you?”

“No! Honest!” a response she obviously didn’t believe. So, after a moment, I just said, “thanks, Maria.”

“You owe me, Blackwood.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, slumping into my chair, “I know.”