Chapter 7 — Orientation

|It was a new day, and the world was quiet. The sun’s auroral flare tinted the azure of the sky. Helix City was at peace. That lull was shattered by the shattering of glass at Helix Jewellers. Three motorcyclists climbed through the window with duffel bags. “Load up, fellas,” one of them said. Each of them broke the glass displays and filled their duffel bags with diamonds and pearls. All the jewellery was taken in minutes, and they fled the scene. Police sirens blared as they chased the thieves. “I’ll take all three bags and lure the cops away,” the leader said. At his command, the others gave him the jewellery and drove off. The leader continued forward, the police catching up. As he was approaching a dead end, the thief grabbed smoke pellets from his pockets and threw them on the ground, engulfing the police cars in smoke, allowing him to escape undetected. “These cops are pathetic,” he said. “I’ll be with you guys in a bit.” The thief sped away. His motorcycle accelerated as he neared the edge of the city. Suddenly, a flurry of golden and black lightning circled the bike, and the individual screws and bolts began falling off. The motorcycle began to disassemble and came to a slow stop. He looked up to see a dark suit of armour, a golden glow emanating from its crevices. “Now, where do you think you’re going?” Shadowbolt remarked. The thief dropped the bags of jewellery. “I appreciate the surrender.” “It’s not a surrender,” the thief commented. Suddenly, another motorcyclist raced past, snatching the bags. “Oh, come on!” Shadowbolt yelled in comedic frustration. “Why couldn’t you just make this easy?” Shadowbolt began to speak into his comms. “Can one of you guys get that?” “You have super speed,” Weaver highlighted. “Yeah, but I can’t do everything for you guys,” Shadowbolt replied. “I’ll get him,” Cerebra said, frustrated.

The second thief was a lot more confident in his skills, swerving through lanes and drifting around curbs. However, on a turn, a small pebble flew into the tyre, tearing a hole and causing it to lurch and crash into the wall of a nearby building. Cerebra emerged from around the corner, smirking as she grabbed the bags from the wreckage. She said, “Gotcha,” before talking into her comms. “See, Bolt,” she teased, “That wasn’t so hard.” “The abbreviation is not appreciated,” Shadowbolt stoically replied, “and it’s not that simple. Wait for it…” As if on cue, the thief pressed a button on the side of his motorcycle helmet, triggering an electric pulse from his bike. The wave of energy sent Cerebra flying back, and the bags were launched into the air. Suddenly, the third thief appeared. His bike’s wheels shifted into repulsor jets, allowing him to soar through the air and catch the bags before flying higher. “What the hell!” Cerebra exclaimed, baffled. “Told you,” Shadowbolt said sarcastically. “Well, I can’t get that,” Cerebra argued. “You’d have a way easier time getting him than me,” Shadowbolt replied. “Do you know how tiring it is to move your arm in circles at super speed?” “And what makes you think I could get him?” “You have telekinesis! Just yank him out of the sky!” “It’s not that simple!” “Really!? It feels like it is!” “Relax, guys,” the Weaver said, flying by. “I’ve got this.”

Weaver soared through the air, accelerating rapidly. The thief noticed the threat nearing. He reached for a gun and started firing beams of green energy at Weaver. Weaver had the edge in acrobatics, manoeuvring around the attacks. He retaliated with crimson energy blasts and micro-missiles; however, the thief’s advanced motorcycle compensated for his lack of agility. After a few minutes of aerial combat, Weaver fired a spherical object at the thief. As if instinctively, the thief caught the device one-handedly. “Pathetic,” he said while looking back mockingly. In his arrogance, the thief failed to notice the red flashing on the device. The blinking quickened, the intervals between each flicker shortening, before the device activated and released an electric pulse. The shock momentarily stunned the thief while also short-circuiting his bike, deactivating it.

The thief came crashing down. Clouds and birds raced past his vision as he made his rapid descent. He braced for impact, closing his eyes as the ground neared. He stopped. He opened his eyes to see himself levitating two inches above the ground. He heard lightning crackling as a flare of light neared at high speed. In the blink of an eye, he found him on the other side of the city, handcuffed in front of the police station with the other thieves. “You didn’t think we’d let you off that easily, did you?” Shadowbolt quipped as he and Cerebra handed the thieves over to the police. Weaver dived from the sky and landed next to them with a heroic pose. “You can’t escape justice,” Weaver remarked, “not even through death.” “Because I will march into Hell,” Shadowbolt added, “and drag you out to personally deliver my version of discipline.” Weaver and Cerebra turned to Shadowbolt, confused. “Dude,” Weaver said. “What’s wrong with you?” Cerebra asked. “No, literally, I will,” Shadowbolt said. “I know a guy, John Constantine. He’s a great sorcerer.” As the three stood in front of the station, they were suddenly swarmed by crowds of news reporters, racing to get a scoop from Helix City’s first-ever superhero team. No superpower could prepare them for the waves of camera flashes at them. All the reporters were shooting questions rapid-fire, every one equally inaudible. Eventually, one could be heard over the rest: “So, what do you call you guys?!” “I’m the Weaver,” Weaver answered, “and these are my good friends, Shadowbolt and Kangae.”

“Helix citizens can now rest safely knowing that they are under the protection of its heroes: the Weaver, Shadowbolt and Cerebra.” Richard and Trevor sat attentively at home as they watched Channel 52’s news anchor retell the events of their recent save. “They’re really never gonna get that name right, are they?” Richard asked rhetorically. “I’m picturing Kangae’s reaction right now,” Trevor stated. “Why can’t you two just get along?” Richard questions. “We get along just fine,” Trevor said. “You guys literally fight every mission.” “No, we don’t.” Richard and Trevor walked around the house, getting dressed while talking from different rooms. “There was last week with the robbery at Central Helix Bank…” “That was just banter. No harm was meant by it.” “There was the bomb threat at Helix High…” “I gave very clear and simple instructions on how to disarm the bomb. How can she not tell the difference between a wire and an explosive charge?” “There was the Alpaca Incident…” “I don’t even need to explain that one.” “And then earlier today with the jewellery store robbery.” “She was being lazy.” “Exactly. Your arguments are so petty. Same thing with Eliza; you just argue for the most random reasons.” “Come on, Dad. Don’t you have a job to go to rather than lecturing me?” “Yeah, you’re right.” Richard unlocked the door, and it flung open enthusiastically. “Come on.”

“Don’t you have a life?” “Crime doesn’t sleep, so neither do I.” “Sleep is very important for cognitive function.” “Well, there’s that… and Pause is at work. You know how he is about his job.” “He does love his job. But you can’t spend your entire day pining over him.” “Kinda hard when I close my eyes and all I can see is his adorable face.” “Can you not refer to my older brother as adorable?” “But he’s gonna be there with the child.” “‘The child’?” “You know who I mean.” “What is your problem with him?” “He’s so childish and immature and annoying. He reminds me of Priya.” “You’ll be fine.” “I just need a distraction.” An alert appears on the computer. “Like a meta attack downtown?” “Exactly like that. Weaver and Shadowbolt are busy, so it is just Kangae and good ol’ Overwatch.” “Good luck.”

Activision Storm is one of the most successful Macrosoft subsidiaries that targets the average consumer. In modern society, there isn’t much to do outside of work and school, so people often resort to video games as a pastime. Gaming is the market with infinite demand, and Storm dominated the supply by creating the most popular game engine with subscription-based income. Storm made billions selling games while lesser companies paid a monthly fee to fight a battle they’d already lost. Richard loved his job, not because he was working under a powerful business tycoon with above-average wages, but because game development was his passion. He and Trevor walked into their office building, excited for a brand-new day. Well, one of them was at least. “Time for another day of work!” Richard exclaimed. “Yay,” Trevor said flatly. “Come on,” Richard said, “you’ve got to sound more enthusiastic than that.” “Look, I like games as much as the next guy,” Trevor stated, “but what makes this any different from any other career?” “Dude, you’re sixteen,” Richard said. “What do you know about careers?” “This isn’t my first fabricated identity, you know,” Trevor said. “On Earth-91, I was ‘Ryan George’.” “Two first names?” Richard questioned. “It’s not original,” Trevor commented. “What I was going to say before we went on our little tangent,” Richard started, “was that our building is due for an inspection.” “Wait, you’re not saying that—” “The CEO of Macrosoft is coming here personally to supervise our work,” Richard said. “That means you have to be on your best behaviour. No more being… you.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Trevor asked, offended. “No sarcastic quips, no blind independence, no randomly losing focus.” “I do not randomly lose focus.” “You had roughly three million other thoughts during the time it took me to finish this current sentence.” “Touché.”

An ordinary woman cruised through the streets on her way to work. The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky. She felt optimistic about the day. Just an average day for an average lady. As she neared an intersection, she noticed arrays of cars stopped at the traffic lights. She exited her car to get a closer look. All the cars were rusted, as if they had been there for thousands of years. Their passengers had their throats slit, and their left arms branded with a lightning bolt shape. She trembled in horror and turned back, trying to reach her car, only to see that it had met the same fate as the others. “Don’t feel bad about them,” a gravelly voice called from behind her. “They had latent traces of dark matter in their system. I couldn’t let them become like the other monsters in this city.” The woman turned to see a strange figure, standing tall and ominous. It wore all-black leather with a dark hooded cloak and a mask that covered its entire face with glowing red lenses. It clutched a lightning-shaped dagger constructed of a near-indestructible metal with cracks of radiant orange energy. The dagger began to pulse with that glow as it drew energy from the woman. “What are you doing to me?” she asked, terrified. “I know you’re a metahuman,” the hooded figure said. “I veto them.” The hooded figure hurled its dagger at the woman with full force. She froze up and closed her eyes, accepting her fate. Seconds went by. Nothing. As she gradually opened her eyes, she saw the dagger had halted in its path. “Nice try, Michelle Meyers,” Cerebra quipped as she telekinetically tossed the dagger to the side. She generated a chain of psychic energy and restrained the arms of the hooded figure. Cerebra looked back at the woman, who was still frozen in terror, and said, “Run.”

“You never answered my question,” Trevor said as he typed away at his desk. “Why do you like this job so much? What makes this company so much better than any other company on this Earth?” “First of all,” Richard began as he continued working, “the technical application of programming with the creative skills of storytelling is a dream for me.” “Fair,” Trevor commented. “Secondly,” Richard continued, “this is a great community. This workforce is like a family.” Just then, Adrian, Marina, and Leonard walked into the office with brash confidence. “What’s up, Cox!” Adrian exclaimed from the hallway. “Who’s the monkey?” Marian asked indecently as the three laughed and walked off. “Okay, that was just racist,” Trevor agitatedly stated as he hastily exited his chair. “I’m gonna go knock some sense into them.” He attempted to storm off, but Richard grabbed his arm, stopping him. Trevor shook Richard’s hand off but stayed put. “Don’t bother,” Richard advised. “They just want a reaction out of you. Ignore it.” “Whatever,” Trevor spat out, miffed. “You were saying?” “This workforce…” Richard paused. “…for the most part…is like a family…with a great father.” “I don’t know how I feel about this metaphor any more,” Trevor commented. “When do I get to meet this so-called ‘father’?” The office doors once again flung open, revealing not more foolish underlings but a presence of strong will and dominance. He wore a dark grey pinstripe suit with a black shirt and tie, giving him a very polished, authoritative appearance. Trevor’s eyes widened as they lay upon the man’s closely trimmed beard and moustache and the distinct shine of his shaved head. “Dude,” Trevor frantically said, “you didn’t tell me your boss was–” “Lex!” Richard greeted with hospitality. “How’ve you been?” “Life’s great,” the man said. “How about you? How’s Eliza?” “We’re good,” Richard replied. “I hope you don’t mind that I hired an intern.” “It’s perfectly fine,” the man said. He turned to face Trevor and held his hand out. “It’s nice to meet you, kid. I’m Lex Luthor.”

The dark figure broke free of the restraints and recalled its dagger. Cerebra stepped out of the way, moving out of the dagger’s trajectory, but it scratched her arm as it returned to the figure’s hand. Cerebra charged into battle and threw a punch. The figure dodged the punch. It countered with a slash. Its dagger sliced Cerebra’s chest. Cerebra prepared a roundhouse kick. The figure caught Cerebra mid-attack with a sort of energy force and threw her into one of the cars. Cerebra was in pain but stood up again. She held her hand out, preparing a powerful blast of telekinetic energy. Suddenly, a wave of mysterious green energy washed over her, and she could no longer move. Another hooded figure entered her vision. This one was in a forest green cloak and lacked a mask, though the shadow cast by its hood covered most of its face. “Slow down, Cerebra,” the forest figure said arrogantly. “Nice one-liner,” a younger voice said. “I’m really into that sort of fang.” On a building in the distance stood a woman in a sleek black costume accented with streaks of red and a large white spider emblem on her chest. She wore a mask with white lenses over the eyes, but it was open around the mouth and the top of her head, allowing her dark hair to flow in the wind. The woman jumped off the ledge of the rooftop, aiming her aim at a building ahead. She fired a long string of spider silk from her wrist, swinging through the air before flipping and landing behind the forest figure. She shot another web, sticking the dark figure to the wall before kicking the forest figure to the ground, freeing Cerebra. “Get it?” the woman asked. “‘Fang’? Like ‘thang’? ‘Thing’?” “Yes, I get it, Arachne,” Cerebra said, annoyed.

Trevor squinted, staring sceptically at Lex’s face before accepting the handshake. “Trevor,” he said, introducing him. “Nice to meet you… Lex…” “So, what drew you to this company?” Lex interrogated. “Well, game development has been my passion since I was nine,” Trevor stated, feigning joy, “and when I met Richard, I saw how much he loves this job, and I knew it was right for me.” “And how old are you, Trevor?” Lex asked. “Sixteen,” Trevor replied. “Aren’t you a little young to be interning at such a high-level position?” Lex asked. “Yes. Yes, I am,” Trevor replied. “I like the ambitious!” Lex exclaimed. “Anyway, I’m gonna go inspect some other departments. You guys keep being awesome.”

“Hey! Stasis! Veto!” Arachne called, instantly capturing both hooded figures’ attention. “Eat this!” Arachne fired a series of web shots that attached their bodies to the wall. She turned back to Cerebra and asked, “Pretty cool, right?” “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Cerebra said dismissively. “What are you even doing here? I thought you only operated in the Foundry.” “I do,” Arachne replied. “These guys are part of my rogues’ gallery.” “‘Rogues’ gallery’?” Cerebra asked, interjecting. “It’s what I call my catalogue of villains,” Arachne stated. “Anyway, the dark one is ‘Veto’, and the green one is ‘Stasis’.” “Did you have to name them?” Cerebra questioned. “Yes,” Arachne said. “Anyway, Veto’s dagger can dampen metahuman powers by manipulating dark matter.” Veto raised her hand, aiming at Cerebra and Arachne. She expelled a strange orange energy that repelled Cerebra and Arachne, causing them to crash into the nearby cars. “She also has ergokinesis.” “That would’ve been nice to know beforehand,” Cerebra commented, annoyed. “Stasis is pretty much just a time manipulator,” Arachne said. “‘Just?’” Cerebra inquired. “She shoots green bubbles that allow her to shift an object — or person — in time,” Arachne informed. “She can freeze it, de-age it into its raw elements, or age it a thousand years, hence the rusted cars.” Veto threw her dagger at Arachne. Cerebra launched it away. The dagger circled the area before returning at full speed towards Cerebra’s head. Arachne used her quick instincts and forced Cerebra to duck, leaving the dagger to fly past and return to Veto’s hand. “Did I mention she could control the dagger telepathically?” “That would’ve been nice to know,” Cerebra commented.

“What’s up with you?” Richard asked, somewhere between frustrated and confused. “What are you talking about?” Trevor replied, equally confused. “Don’t play dumb with me,” Richard said assertively. “The way you were looking at Lex like he’s some criminal.” “It’s nothing,” Trevor replied. “No, it is something,” Richard said. “So tell me what it is.” “It really is nothing,” Trevor reassured. “Then tell me!” Richard yelled. “Why do you keep staring at a guy you just met like he’s some sort of supervillain?” “Because he is a supervillain!” Trevor confessed. “He’s the supervillain. When you think of the typical criminal mastermind archetype, you think of Lex Luthor: rich, egotistical, manipulative.” “That doesn’t sound like Lex,” Richard stated. “As far as you know,” Trevor said. “Alexander Joseph Luthor is a bad guy on every Earth, no matter if he’s a businessman or a hobo or the President of the United States.” “You’re seriously gonna judge someone based on their alternate versions?” Richard asked, disappointed. “With that man,” Trevor said, “I’ll judge him to the end of the Earth.”

Veto and Cerebra engaged in fierce melee combat. Every slash of Veto’s dagger was blocked by Cerebra’s energy shield. Every swing of Cerebra’s energy sword was dodged by Veto’s quick agility. From her hands, Stasis expelled emerald bubbles of temporal energy. Arachne flipped around, evading all of Stasis’s attacks. After the next swing, Veto utilised her feet to knock Cerebra off-balance before slamming her into the ground. She tried to get up, but Veto kicked her back down, further cracking the concrete as well as Cerebra’s ribs. Arachne realised the situation and instinctively sprang into action. She quickly webbed Stasis up and leapt towards Veto. Before Arachne could throw a punch, Veto’s dagger glowed with its usual hue. The weapon drew energy from Arachne’s body. Immediately, she felt weaker. She rushed Veto with all her might and attempted to attack, but every swing had much less force than previously. She tried to fire a web, but nothing released from her wrists. No amount of fighting prowess could make up for her significant loss in strength and utility. Veto threw Arachne to the side like a paperweight. Cerebra, still on the ground, groaning in pain, activated her earpiece. “Overwatch,” Cerebra begged, “call the others.”

Richard and Trevor continued working, attempting to put their previous argument behind them as Lex returned to their office. Richard took his time, getting through all of his work at an ordinary pace. Trevor, on the other hand, whizzed through his work, trying to get as much done as possible so he could leave earlier. “Wow,” Lex commended, “you are rapid, Trevor.” “People do tend to call me lightning quick,” Trevor replied. Richard chuckled, trying to lighten a partially dampened mood, but Trevor and Lex didn’t reciprocate. “Anyways,” Lex said, “I think you’ve done enough work for today, kid. Go home. Rest. We have an entire lifetime of greatness to achieve.” Trevor lit up at those words. He had never exited a chair as speedily in his life. As he left the building, Trevor received an alert from O.L.A.C. Trevor sped away, leaving only a trail of black and gold lightning behind. He stopped in an alley, out of earshot of anyone else. He grabbed his lightning bolt emblem and held it to his chest, letting the nanites expand over his body, revealing his Shadowbolt armour. He was receiving a message from the usual radio frequency that he, Weaver and Cerebra used, but from an unknown transmitter. He answered the call, and a deep, distorted voice, clearly modulated, spoke: “Hello, Shadowbolt. You can call me ‘Overwatch’. A mutual friend of ours, Kangae, is in trouble and needs your help.” “Kangae needs my help?” Trevor asked sarcastically. “I am so gonna rub this in her face after this. Also, did you say your name was ‘Overwatch’? You wouldn’t happen to be Felicity Smoak, would you?” “Who I am doesn’t matter,” the voice said through the earpiece. “Just go.” “Fine,” Trevor said. “I’m on it.” With that, he was off.

Arachne continued to fight with all her might, but it wasn’t enough. She threw several punches at Veto with no effect. She tried to outspeed Veto, but Veto caught her fist, slashed her arm, and stepped on her leg, cracking bones, before throwing her aside. Cerebra began to regain her strength, standing back up and launching Veto’s dagger away. Arachne slowly restored her power. She and Cerebra unitedly leapt forward to simultaneously strike Veto. Suddenly, some sort of malachite force fields formed around the two of them, holding them in place. Even the tiniest movements were impossible. “I was going to age your body until you turn to dust,” Stasis said, “but then I realised no movement means no breathing. It doesn’t matter how old you are when you die from a lack of oxygen.” A boom could be heard in the distance. Waves of glass shattered in the wake of the approaching force. A streak of lightning whooshed past as power-dampening cuffs appeared on Stasis’s wrists. “As funny as it would be to see Kangae helpless,” Shadowbolt said, “I’d prefer if you didn’t kill this city’s greatest heroes.” Cerebra and Arachne immediately dropped to the ground as the bubbles containing them popped. The three looked around, confused, as Shadowbolt asked, “Where’s the one with the dagger?” Veto’s dagger came flying towards them, but it quickly changed its trajectory and crashed into the ground, releasing a wave of energy that knocked them all back. “You’re lucky the Sovereign doesn’t want you guys dead,” Veto said. “Otherwise, I’d kill you all.” She called her dagger back to her hand and flew off. “I wonder where she went,” Shadowbolt stated. “Who cares? We’ll get her next time,” Arachne said confidently. She then turned to Shadowbolt. “Thanks for the save.” “Any time,” Shadowbolt said, smirking smugly towards Cerebra. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Cerebra said. “Just lock this one up already.” “Are we gonna leave her for the police?” Arachne asked. “I get it,” Shadowbolt said. “Spider people in the multiverse often have a strict moral code, but that’s how we do things. Metas like her are too dangerous for even the HCPD to handle. We have a safer place.” Shadowbolt pressed a button on his gauntlet, transporting the four of them into his pocket dimension.

“Welcome, Shadowbolt and Kangae,” F.R.I.E.N.D. greeted as the Weaver armour walked up to the group. “Hi, F.R.I.E.N.D.,” Cerebra said. “Hey, F.R.I.E.N.D.,” Shadowbolt said. “Who’s your new friend?” F.R.I.E.N.D. asked. “This is Arachne,” Shadowbolt said. “Hello, Arachne,” F.R.I.E.N.D. said. “I’m F.R.I.E.N.D., the artificial consciousness behind the main functions of the Weaver armour.” “That’s a cute name,” Arachne commented, “but in a corny kind of way.” “That’s what I said,” Shadowbolt stated. “O.L.A.C., take Stasis, here, to her cell.” At Shadowbolt’s command, an O.L.A.C. android approached Stasis and grabbed her arm. “Great name, by the way.” “Thanks,” Arachne said, smiling warmly. “Oh, O.L.A.C., just before you take her…” Shadowbolt ripped off Stasis’s mask, revealing her face. Arachne was baffled by the sight, instantly recognising the woman behind the mask. “Doctor Frost?!” Arachne exclaimed in shock. The O.LA.C. robot escorted Stasis to her prison cell while Shadowbolt, Cerebra and Arachne followed. They walked past a few occupied cages, labelled ‘Imani Solis’ and ‘Marcus Hale’ respectively. “Hey, Maelstrom,” Shadowbolt said. “Hi, Ashen.” “Looks like I’m not the only one good at naming,” Arachne said. “You know,” Shadowbolt said, “it’s so nice having someone here that isn’t so uptight.” “Shut up,” Cerebra groaned. Eventually, they reached a vacant cell an O.L.A.C. shoved Stasis inside, locking it and activating the local dampener.

Back in the main room, Shadowbolt, Cerebra and Arachne gathered to address an immediate issue. “I can’t be the only person who thinks this is all too coincidental,” Cerebra stated. “On the one day the Weaver is busy,” Shadowbolt began, “we get attacked by two powerful enemies who quickly abandon their goal to fight us. Then one leaves the other despite easily having enough power for them both to escape. That’s a long string of illogical and random events, unless…” “…it was planned,” Arachne said, finishing Shadowbolt’s sentence. “Before Veto escaped, she mentioned something about ‘the Sovereign’.” “What’s ‘the Sovereign’?” Shadowbolt asked. “Last week, we fought three villains: the Elementals, Solis and Hale,” Cerebra explained. “Hale was a skilled artist before getting his powers, but then suddenly became a criminal. Solis protested for environmental policies and then suddenly became an ecoterrorist. The Elementals focused on discrete theft and robbery and then suddenly performed a spectacle in Helix Park.” “Such drastic changes in MOs,” Arachne highlighted. “We need to make sure the Weaver is as informed and ready as possible,” Shadowbolt said, “because if this ‘Sovereign’ is what we think it is, we are going to need as much manpower as possible because it won’t end here.”