Off The Pages

“My sisters and brothers!” Jack Hurst preached from a secure area just outside Washington, D.C. “The hour of the final battle against evil itself draws near!” He took in the crowd. A collection of people, cheering for the downfall of sin, holding up signs that spoke of righteous judgment against sinners, stood crowded around a podium. A wall of armed men created a separation between supporters and detractors. “We shall see our final victory against Satan and his minions!”

Soldiers parted the sea of supporters long enough to allow an armed escort through. Two officers in full riot gear carried a young man under his arms towards the Lord. They brought him up onto the platform, and the preacher stepped aside for the Lord to take his position. He looked down upon the young man, who the officers pushed to stand. Evidence of a struggle painted itself across his face and arms. The Lord placed his hands on the man’s shoulders and the wounds healed.

“You, my child,” The Lord spoke, “you have worn your sin like a banner. The pride you’ve taken in your sin stains your very soul.”

The quivering, crying man looked at the figure before him. “Please don’t kill me,” he pleaded. “My…my boyfriend…”

The Lord shook his head. “No,” he replied. “You will choose to sin no more. Your alternative is the eternal fires of hell. Make your choice now.”

Please forgive me, the man thought, as he thought of his love, whom he would never see again. He dropped to his knees. “I accept you as my savior,” he said.

The Lord nodded and smiled, placing a hand on the man’s head. “You are forgiven, my child,” He spoke, “now stand and join the many who serve the forces of Good.” The man stood up and got escorted over to where the supporters stood.

“Hey, wait a minute,” one officer protested, “I thought…”

The Lord turned a serious expression towards the man. “You thought you would see a homosexual be exterminated before your very eyes,” He spoke.

The officer’s eyes shifted guiltily to one side and another. “No, I…”

“Yes,” The Lord shot back. “Heed my words carefully, my child. I do not hesitate to condemn those who refuse to accept my Father’s grace. But I do not pass out judgment at whim. Any who accept me are saved. Do you understand?”

The man rushed to kneel and place a hand over his heart. “Yes, my Lord!” he swore.

“Good,” the Lord spoke, then turned to Jack Hurst. “My servant, tell them to alert the President that we are ready for our next series of locations.”

Jack nodded. “I will, oh Lord!” he cried.

“My Lord!”

Everyone turned in the direction of the man’s shout. A young man of no older than twenty-two hovered to a standing position on the platform. He immediately took one knee. The Lord turned and analyzed the young man. He wore a white tank top and black shorts, with a short head of dirty blonde hair with a thin wave of bangs sticking out. His deep blue eyes gazed up at his master. The face, although soft in feature, had a hardness of expression that only suffering could bring. The voice that came out sounded youthful but tainted with misery beyond his years.

“What is your name, my child?” the Lord spoke.

“August Dietrich,” he said. “I’ve spent months wondering why my life had gone so rotten, but when I saw you give righteous judgment to the whole of India, I saw the true power of the Lord!” He placed a hand over his heart. “I offer my services to defeat the Evil One that threatens the world!”

The Lord touched the man, and the telekinetic powers he had surged even higher. “My child!” He spoke to August. “Do you have what it takes to fight against the great might of evil?”

“My Lord!” August swore. “I do!”

“Then rise in power!” He spoke.

Just then, a projectile came sailing by at incredible speed, stopping a foot from the Lord’s face. The piece of steel fell harmlessly to the podium. August immediately got to work, figuring out where the projectile had come from, and lifted the two supers that attacked from the far back, and bringing them before their Lord.

“This is the sixth time in so many cities where we’ve been attacked,” Jack lamented. “It never works.”

The Lord stared at the Asian woman and the Hispanic man hovering before him. “Why do you attack me?” He asked.

The woman scowled at him. “You’re not the Lord!” she shouted. “You’re just a murdering impostor!”

“We will not serve a false messiah!” the man next to her said.

“You sadden me,” the Lord spoke, closing his eyes a moment. “Any time those who stand against God have to be punished, it makes me sorrowful for what could have been.” When he opened his eyes, they went up in a brilliant light. The crowd cheered.

“Thank you, August,” Jack said, patting his new ally on the shoulder. “You join the ranks of the saved!”

The young man followed Jack past the podium and to a man in a suit. “Mr. Hurst!” the agent replied. “What is your will?”

Jack returned to where the Lord was. “My Lord, where are we going next?” he asked.

“Allow me to speak to your President,” the Lord spoke, leaving the podium and approaching the suited agent.

“My Lord!” the agent cried, bowing his head. He led them to a station where a man produced a cell phone.

The Lord took the phone to his ear. “We are headed first to Europe for a series of destinations,” He spoke. “First, we go to London, then to Berlin, then Madrid. I will give further instructions from there.” The President spoke. “Three days before we leave.” He hung up.

“Go and meet with the others, August,” Jack advised, joining his Lord. “My Lord! Our army grows by leaps and bounds!”

“We gather the forces of good against evil,” the Lord spoke, “and our enemy gathers the forces of darkness. We fight against horrific injustice. The good news is, our adversary’s most powerful servants have already made themselves known to us.”

“Forgive me, oh Lord,” Jack asked, “but I must know. Are you worried about them?”

“My child!” the Lord exclaimed, laughing. “Are you that afraid? I tell you, each time they oppose me they merely demonstrate how glorious the power of the Father is! I tell you, though we will surely see mightier attacks in time, we will not lose. The Father in Heaven does not lose.”

“Yes, my Lord!” Jack swore. “I am a faithful servant!”

The large collection of supers in service to the Lord spread out and covered the surrounding city area. Their task had largely been the same everywhere they went. Any who agreed to bend the knee to the Lord would be taken in. Any who denied their Lord and Savior would be judged. The Lord had instructed that any who bent the knee were to be accepted, and any who denied would be judged. A few times, disobedient servants who killed for fun were judged themselves, and after that, no more disobedience took place.

August joined a group of six and ripped the roof off a building where he could sense people inside. The old church’s roof peeled off like a sardine can. About sixteen people huddled inside. It had been their guess that no one who thought they were serving the Lord would attack a church. Turns out they were dead wrong.

The psychic and his allies looked down at the screaming group and descended into the church.

Immediately, half the group disappeared.

“Where’d they go?” August yelled.

He focused his telekinesis. His mind over matter allowed him to feel every piece of matter within his sphere of range, extending for miles around him. A figure raced at scarcely fathomable velocities through the area, and he put up a wall around the remaining churchgoers. Before it finished, however, the rest were gone.

August lifted out of the church and gathered some of his allies. “Do we have any speedsters?” he asked.

A young man raised his hand. “Me,” he spoke, approaching. “I fought the Capacitor before. Name’s Craig.” He wore a track uniform that was dark blue and had hair the color of lacquered oak.

The psychic’s mood turned around. “Can you get the rest of our extremely fast allies together?” he said. “I’ve got a plan.”

The young man disappeared and returned with three other new arrivals. “We’re here,” he said.

“Names?” August said.

“Dylan,” the young speedster said. His outfit consisted of black running tights and a green tunic-like shirt. His English features and short orange-red hair made him look almost a teenager. He motioned behind him to his new allies. A light-skinned middle easterner with a short, curly goatee and hair, with a collared shirt and loose cargo pants stood firm, decision in his eyes.

“Sahar,” the man said, bowing. He stood aside and a man with long blonde hair pulled into a ponytail stepped forward. He wore an elaborate two-piece costume made from leather.

“Malcolm,” the tall man announced in an Australian cockney.

“Great!” August announced. “Here’s what our team is going to do. It’s clear they’re monitoring us, and they speed in and rescue whoever we approach. I imagine we’re not the only group being attacked. So, we’re going to approach a large group and they’ll have to act. Then you guys will go after them.”

“Great idea!” Craig cheered. “We’re on it.”

Jennifer pulled the last of the survivors to freedom. The hundreds of people she’d pulled from the clutches of Jack Hurst’s loyal fanatics were given comfortable hiding places on the other Earth John’s portals gave them access to. Jericho had helped with that. Constructing houses was easy when people had superpowers. The survivors were promised they would be kept safe and were given sci-fi level tech to protect themselves with. Even John didn’t know how effective it would be against the more powerful goons the mad reverend could throw at them, but anything was something.

“Jennifer!” Jericho shouted. “They’re after a mosque and there’s sixty people inside!”

Jennifer sighed. “It’s a trap, I bet,” she said.

“I’ll come with you,” he offered.

She nodded. “Okay,” she replied. “Great idea.”

“Tell me when to open the portal,” Raymond said, hands on the device. Jericho pointed a hand in his direction and sent the information to his mind. “Got it.” The scientist waited until the two got into a runner’s position. “Go!” he shouted, slamming the button, and creating a circular opening in space.

They took off, propelling themselves into the portal. It shut behind them as soon as they stepped through. Almost at once, fists and feet began pummeling them.

Jennifer had taken one step into the mosque when she had to immediately duck beneath a fist and caught a knee in the gut for her trouble. Jericho, who didn’t have a speed power quite on par with her got it much worse. The speedsters pummeling him with fists and feet wore gloves and boots that kept him from making skin contact. As Dylan and Craig hit Jennifer, her durability tanked the blows but the sheer speed behind them started to become painful after a few moments. She tried to hit them with electric attacks but they’d been taught, apparently, how to duck out of the way just before the spot they were standing lit up with energy.

Jericho’s regeneration and durability started to fail. Damn it, he thought, if I don’t do something…!

The two kicking and punching him suddenly flashed through years of memories, each one getting the whole person’s life, no summary. When they returned to themselves, it was only an instant later, but in their disoriented mental state, they didn’t react in time and hands grabbed both their necks.

“Bastard!” Sahar swore, vibrating his way out of the grip a moment before a shockwave would have passed through him.

Malcolm wasn’t so lucky and got blasted into a far wall. Thankfully for him, his enhanced speed sped up his healing, and he collapsed and recovered a moment later. “Didn’t get me!” he shouted.

The grin on the billionaire’s face told them everything.

“Shit,” Craig shouted, a moment before a fist buried itself in his chest, knocking him off Jennifer.

Jericho brushed a hand against her and showed her everything. She learned about the differences between speed powers; specifically, she learned that there really wasn’t one, other than degree of power.

Jennifer focused on her speed powers. She had largely been using them automatically. But focusing on them inside her body, she saw the otherworldly energies that represented her different powers. Although her mind had been doing the heavy lifting for her, taking manual control of her powers gave her pause. The first one represented time; it was how she could stand still at super speed. The second represented actual speed and allowed her to move fast without everything freezing around her. She cranked the first as high as it would go, and everything went perfectly still around her. Now, everything froze, including her. At maximum time-based speed, she found herself locked within her own body. Even her eyes wouldn’t be able to move from their current position. The upside was, she figured, that now, she had all the time in the world to think. She focused on the internal map of powers fluctuating within her.

At full time speed, her base speed power vanished into almost nothing. She brought the base speed power up, and the time speed power began to decrease, with reality starting to move again around her. At a certain point, she saw they met at exactly one point. It would be impossible to match them using her powers on automatic and keeping them at the same point required precise manual control, but after a few moments of intense focus, she got it.

Thank you, she thought, sneering at the two speedsters whose memories she’d just gotten. I couldn’t have done it without you.

Craig recovered and threw a vibrating straight punch at his target’s face. Jennifer caught the fist. She seemed to act without moving, even to his speed-enhanced eyes. First, a flat palm strike to the chest knocked the wind out of him, followed by a rapid twist of her left arm, breaking his right in several places. A scream of agony left his mouth. A quick headbutt later and he collapsed in a heap.

Malcolm swung but she ducked beneath his attack and drove an uppercut into his chest, throwing him up into the air. The impact knocked him silly, causing him to lose focus which shut his power off and he froze in midair. Dylan made a run for one of the civilians, but she latched a hand onto the back of his head and zapped him. Sahar made it halfway to her before Jericho intercepted him and delivered two balled-up fists into the back of his head.

As far as any one of the civilians saw, one minute there were hostile supers working for the fake Jesus standing there, and the next, they stood inside a house’s living room. Jericho gave them the usual spiel about how they would be protected, and that there were places being set up for additional refugees. Most importantly, they would not be expected to do anything in return for being protected.

“John! Ray!” Jennifer cried, exiting one building and heading into another. “Please tell me you’ve got something!”

“You’re in luck!” Raymond cried. “Everyone gets some toys!”

“Great!” Jennifer shouted. “Me first!”

John pushed his safety glasses up and approached. “I remember how you said you didn’t want to wear an elaborate costume,” he said, “so I integrated it into your basic outfit.” He produced a series of shirts with the Capacitor symbol painted on, and some spandex-looking pants. “They draw upon your existing energies to become more durable without losing flexibility.” He produced a series of bands of varying size. “These, though, are my pride and joy.”

She regarded the golden bands. “What are they?” she asked.

“Change into one of your new outfits,” Raymond recommended, “and then you’ll see.”

A blur later and she stood in one of the shirts, a bright orange, and pants, a dark grey. “Wow!” she exclaimed. “It feels like…”

“Like you’re almost naked?” John explained. “Yeah, it draws upon your powers so it shouldn’t feel like ordinary clothes. It’s tight without being perverted.” She shot him a look and he nudged her. “Anyway, the small bands go on your wrists and also your ankles, just above your shoes. The bigger one goes around your waist as if it were a belt.”

She put them on. Immediately, she felt power surge. “My god,” she swore, flexing her fingers. “This is unbelievable.”

“I don’t know how much of a strength multiplier it is,” John explained, “but it certainly increases your strength.”

“What do you have for me?” Annie asked, entering.

“Only the best battle armor for the Goddess of Strength,” John said. He produced a bodysuit for underneath, and a series of ceramic looking plates to go on top. He tapped one with his fist and it clanked like hitting a solid piece of metal. Then he handed them to her. “These may look solid, and to our enemies, they are, but try one out for size.”

She skeptically examined a solid arm piece. As soon as it touched her arm, it became as flexible as cloth. She stared in disbelief. “No way!” she exclaimed.

“Way,” Raymond replied. “Try this.”

After Annie put on the bodysuit, armor pieces and boots, he handed her a pair of shiny silver gloves, thick and looking like solid metal. She slid them onto each hand, and they flexed like ordinary gloves. “They behave like flexible material,” John explained, “But otherwise are solid as can be. They draw upon your powers. That’s not all.” He brought out a helmet that appeared to come straight out of science-fiction. He set it on her head.

“It’s like I’m not even wearing a helmet!” she cried.

“The Goddess’s lungs filter out all poisons and toxins,” Raymond explained, “and the helmet does the same. Also, it becomes transparent when worn by you.”

“Badass!” Jericho yelled, entering the room.

“Annie,” Jennifer said, “why don’t we get some training in?”

She tilted her head. “You mean, like,” she said, “combat training?”

Jennifer shook her head. “No,” she replied. “No one here is a trained combatant, and let’s face it, I don’t think learning martial arts is going to make a lick of difference. What I mean is, we just beat some of their speedsters. Sure, we’re probably going to fight them again, but I learned how to use my power better.”

Annie gestured. “Right,” she noted. “I get it. Stop using the Goddess’s power on autopilot.”

“Cool,” Jennifer said. “You guys okay here?”

John gave a thumbs-up. “We’ll get Edward all set up while you two go out and train,” he explained.

Outside, they flew a good distance away from the series of buildings. Having an entire, relatively uninhabited Earth to themselves was a useful trick. They each stood a car’s distance apart from each other. Jennifer gathered her thoughts. “I remember Cyroya had super speed,” she explained. “Maybe not as good as mine, I don’t know, but it should work.”

Annie shrugged with her hands. “But how do I activate it?” she said. “I don’t sense energy like you do.”

Jennifer pondered. She snapped her finger. “She’s all about battle,” the heroine replied. “Remember, in First Breaker she’s the bad guy at first. She lives for combat. I imagine you have to think about it in a combat sense.” Let me try something, the redhead thought.

Annie watched as Jennifer clenched just her right fist. Annie focused, furrowing her eyebrows. In her mind, she saw a series of possibilities as ghost images of the fight to come. After each initial attack, the best possible counter appeared as a ghost image beside it. She saw hundreds of possible fights. As her friend drew her arm back, certain possibilities disappeared, and others took their place. Then the heroine seemed to vanish. Annie’s eyes went wide as her vision adjusted. She saw a blur and Jennifer came into view. Instinctively, she went to catch the attacking fist, but it struck her in the chest and launched her backward.

“I saw it,” Annie replied, standing up. “I just didn’t have the time to react.”

“No problem,” Jennifer shot back. “I’ll go a bit slower and try again.”

The redhead drew back and swung. Annie intently focused and time seemed to slow down. She pulled back and her body responded faster this time, and she almost made it. The fist tagged her much later than it otherwise would have, throwing her backward, though she recovered in time to land on her feet.

Annie clenched her fists and lowered into a fighting stance. Her friend threw a straight punch, and this time, she saw the action slow down enough to catch the fist. Jennifer smiled as she pulled back and attempted a kick. This time, Annie’s perception became such that she saw the leg start to move in slower and slower motion. Jennifer sped up in response, and a few blocked blows later, they matched speed.

“How’s that?” Annie asked.

“You’re getting great really fast!” Jennifer complimented. She launched a punch and sped it up at the last minute. Annie jerked her head out of the way as the fist suddenly blurred. She grabbed the wrist and pulled, yanking her friend forward and driving a jab into her abdomen. In response, Jennifer swung an elbow strike upward. Her friend jerked her head back and brought her knee up at the same time, catching the heroine in the chest, launching her back.

“How’s that?” Annie asked.

Jennifer shook it off. “Wow,” she stated, “just remember to hit the enemy at least that hard!”

Annie laughed. “That’s why I chose her,” she replied.

“Oh!” Jennifer said, “Gimme a moment!” She dashed back into the lab. “John, if we break the equipment, how hard is it to fix?”

John and Raymond exchanged a look. The younger scientist turned back to her. “We made plenty of spares,” he said, eyebrows furrowed, “just try not to break too many of them.”

“Great!” she cried, thumbs up.

When she zipped back, Annie took a breath. “Want to go again?”

“How about I get a turn?” Edward said, interrupting the goddess’s question.

“What’ve you been up to, Ed?” Annie inquired.

“Oh, you know,” he replied, “the usual. Fake Christians cheering as innocent people are murdered by a false messiah. At least I managed to save a few.” He shook his head. “This is fucked up.”

“I would say I can only imagine how it bothers you,” Jennifer replied, “but then again I’ve literally experienced your memories.”

He sighed. “I’d like to keep my mind off how many people claim to be followers of Christ,” he lamented, “and are cheerfully supporting this genocidal prick, thank you very much.” He dropped into a fighting stance.

“I thought you didn’t know martial arts,” Annie noted, standing aside.

“I don’t,” Edward corrected. “Kadosuke does.”

Annie snapped her finger. “Ah, right!” she replied. Then she cocked her head to the side. “Wait.”

“Why don’t you have memories of the Goddess if what he said is true?” Jennifer pre-emptively said. “It’s an instinctive thing.”

“Makes sense,” she replied. “I guess it’s like how I have ‘battle sense’ when I fight.”

“Or how I can just use my powers on autopilot,” Jennifer stated.

Edward shot a straight palm strike towards his friend, who barely had time to dodge to the side and throw a left elbow strike at his forehead. He ducked beneath it and propelled forward into a gut punch. Jennifer moved farther aside and pushed him past her. After they passed, they whirled around and faced each other. Jennifer aimed a straight left-hand punch at his face, and he shoved it aside. As her left hand curved to the right, away from him, she went for a hook punch with her other arm. He grabbed it and the other wrist, pulled her close, and delivered a kick to the abdomen that sent her back. While she struggled to regain her footing, he launched forward and went for a straight palm strike to her forehead. She recovered just in time to tilt her whole body to the side and deliver a standing side kick to his chest. He ricocheted off the ground like a pebble skipped across a pond and crashed into and through a tree at least a meter thick.

She gasped and clutched at her mouth. “Oh shit!” she shouted. “Sorry!”

Before the tree finished falling, a blue curve of light travelled through the air, vaporizing the tree. Edward stood, dirt on his kimono, missing a sandal, and clutching his extended katana, which glowed bright as a welder’s torch. He caught his breath. “Nice…one…” he huffed.

“You’re damn fast,” Jennifer complimented. “You’ve been fighting.”

His mind went to his recent fights, and his eyebrows lowered, and a frown appeared. “I fucking hate teleporting fighters,” he uttered.

Annie and Jennifer both cringed. “Yeah,” Annie chimed in, “I can imagine the feeling.”

Just then, the sound of footsteps caught everyone’s attention. “Guys!” Davis yelled, running up. “All your families are safe, right?”

The three exchanged glances. “Yeah,” Jennifer said. “They’re in one of these houses, why?”

“Well,” Davis said, “the Illinois State Police just did a raid on all you guys’ houses, with intention to turn everything over to Jack Hurst.”

A string of cursing and down expressions passed between the trio. “So, what’s next?” Annie asked.

“Since the United States government has surrendered to Jack Hurst,” he said, “we’re enemy number one.”

“We’re in this,” Sam explained, “to victory or death.” He shook his head. “There’s no going back now. Either we win, or we die.”

“Do we have any more allies?” Jennifer asked.

“Some,” Davis explained. “Jericho’s been helping us find people. We’ve also been helping people who refuse to accept the government’s surrender.”

“Holy crap,” Jennifer said. “Isn’t that risky?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, putting hands on hips. “But this is some serious horseshit, and I swear I didn’t join the FBI to watch my government surrender to a tyrant.”

Annie shook her head. “We’ve got to act,” she said.

“I agree,” Jennifer said. She turned to Ed. “Did you get your equipment from John and Ray?”

He nodded. “You were too focused on fighting me to notice,” he said, gesturing.

“Ah! Nice kimono!” she replied.

“So,” Jericho said, popping in, “what do we do next?”

“We’re going to go collect some allies,” Jennifer said. “We’re going to see who’s willing to fight against Jack.” She looked to everyone.

“I’m in,” Annie said.

“Enough triage,” Edward agreed. “We go on the offensive.”

“Great idea,” Jericho cut in. “Dave? Sam? Let’s go get your guys and start fighting back.”

“Best news I’ve heard in a while,” Davis replied.

“They’re itching to fight,” Sam agreed.

As the billionaire led the two agents away to teleport out, he turned to the group. “I’ll catch up with you,” he said. “Go on without me.”

“John,” Jennifer said, approaching the building, “make us a portal.”