The Science of Supervillainy

by

C. T. Phipps

Copyright © 2017 by Charles T. Phipps

Published by

Amber Cove Publishing

PO Box 9605

Chesapeake, VA 23321

Cover design by Raffaele Marinetti

Visit his online gallery at http://www.raffaelemarinetti.it/

Cover lettering by Terry Stewart

Editing by Valerie Kann

Book design by Jim Bernheimer

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

Visit the author’s website at http://unitedfederationofcharles.blogspot.com/

First Publication: April 2017

Dedication and Acknowledgements

This book is dedicated to my lovely wife, Kat, to Jim Bernheimer for supporting me throughout creation of this series, to my good friend Michael Gibson, and to all those wonderful fans who made this series possible.

C.T. Phipps

.

Foreword

Chapter One

WHERE I TRY TO TAKE DOWN THE EVIL PRESIDENT

Chapter Two

WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE FINAL BOSS FIGHT

Chapter Three

WHERE WE SKIP OVER MY IMPRISONMENT

Chapter Four

WHERE WE ESCAPE FROM SURBURBAN HELL

Chapter Five

OUR BRILLIANT PLAN TO ATTACK OTHER GARY DIRECTLY

Chapter Six

WHERE THINGS GO PEAR-SHAPED (OF COURSE)

Chapter Seven

WHERE THE GANG REUNITES LIKE IN RETURN OF THE JEDI

Chapter Eight

WHERE MY BRAIN SHUTS DOWN FOR A BIT

Chapter Nine

WHERE I MEET MY DAUGHTER FOR THE FIRST TIME

Chapter Ten

BEING A FATHER IS MY GREATEST CHANCE FOR VILLAINY YET

Chapter Eleven

WHERE I REALIZE OTHER PEOPLE HAVE PROBLEMS TOO

Chapter Twelve

WHERE I HAVE A NICE CHAT WITH MY DOPPELGÄNGER

Chapter Thirteen

MUSINGS ON THE LOSS OF FRIENDS AND LOVE

Chapter Fourteen

WHERE WE HEAD TO CLUB INFERNO

Chapter Fifteen

THE STATE OF THE SUPERVILLAIN UNION

Chapter Sixteen

WHERE I TRY TO SELL THE BLACK WITCH ON MY NOT-PLAN

Chapter Seventeen

DRAMATIC ENTRANCES MAKE FOR GOOD FIRST IMPRESSIONS

Chapter Eighteen

WHERE OTHER GARY CROSSES THE MORAL EVENT HORIZON

Chapter Nineteen

A QUIET MOMENT BEFORE WE GO TO WAR

Chapter Twenty

WHERE EVERYTHING GOES TO HELL (AGAIN)

Chapter Twenty-One

WHERE I FACE THE ONE DECENT PERSON IN THE MERCIFUL REGIME

Chapter Twenty-Two

THE FINAL SHOWDOWN BETWEEN ME, MYSELF, AND I

Epilogue

An Excerpt from Agent G: Infiltrator by C. T. Phipps – On Sale Now

CHAPTER ONE

Agent G: Infiltrator

CHAPTER TWO

An Excerpt from Villains Rule by M. K. Gibson - On Sale Now

Prologue

Prologue pt. 2 - Electric Boogaloo

Chapter One

WHERE I INTRODUCE MYSELF

Chapter Two

WHERE I DISCUSS FANTASTICAL BEASTS AND HOW TO FEED THEM

About the Author

Foreword

The Secrets of Supervillainy was a bit of an experiment where I got to investigate how Gary dealt with events challenging the bedrocks of his personality. Would he ever fall for someone as deeply as he fell for Mandy? Answer: no. Would he ever become a good guy? Answer: no. Would Gary ever be able to move on beyond a dead Mandy? Answer: nope. The nature of deconstruction, though, is such that you should be willing to put your toys back into their box after you’re done with them. You should never destroy something beyond repair.

In this case, I admit, The Secrets of Supervillainy had some flaws. I didn’t quite get where I wanted to go with the climax because I kept having to defer it. Why? Because I wasn’t done with the characters yet. President Omega and Other Gary proved to be wily foes, so I wanted to make sure they got the attention they were due. That, ironically, meant the book ended on a pre-climax.

Either way, I decided this book would reconstruct Gary’s fundamentals. Which means that it’s getting back to some old-school supervillainy action. What does it mean to be a supervillain in a world where good and evil are clearly defined? Who arbitrates who is good and who is bad? Are there any shades of gray in a world of four-color superheroism? What is justified evil in the name of the greater good, and does that mean it’s not evil? Also, punching President Omega and Other Guy in proper Adam West fashion.

We’ll also get more insight into some characters whom I haven’t been able to get into quite as much as I’ve wanted to. One of the benefits of having such a large and fascinating cast is that I get to cover many more stories than I expect; however, some characters don’t get explored as much. This book covers some of my favorite neglected characters.

Some people have asked me whether this is going to be the last of the Supervillainy Saga books. Not a chance. It is, however, going to wrap up the existing plot threads and definitively answer who our protagonist is. Still, comic book worlds are a playground of infinite potential. Honestly, getting into Gary’s headspace is something that never gets old.

I hope you guys enjoy.

Chapter One

WHERE I TRY TO TAKE DOWN THE EVIL PRESIDENT

The air above me was full of more blue, red, and white energy blasts than the G.I. Joe cartoon from the eighties. I was in the middle of a long supercrete hallway behind the body of a giant Exterminator-robot’s torso as the plastisteel-armored soldiers of President Omega advanced on my little group.

“Remind me, Cindy,” I said, shooting bullets of hellfire over the edge of the robot. “Why are we here again?”

Cindy Wakowski, a.k.a. Red Riding Hood, my number one henchwench, was wearing a bulletproof, magically-enhanced, sexy Halloween costume of her namesake. She was firing a plastic toy gun that somehow shot out real blasts of energy.

Cindy blasted two of the Omega troopers in the chest. “Well, if I remember correctly, Charles Omega, the forty-fifth president of the United States, is a time-traveling Nazi. He has it in for you because you lead the John Connor-esque resistance in the future. Also, you stole a lot of money from him. He’s teamed up with Other Gary, your alternate self from a destroyed universe like the sixties Nightwalker TV show. We’re caught in a time loop where President Omega blows up the world with his ICBMs full of nanites and Other Gary harvests the necromantic energy created. Other Gary then turns back the clock to do it again. He’s done it twice.”

I stared at her. “Uh-huh.”

“You knew this,” Cindy said, frowning at me.

“I was just hoping I’d gone insane,” I muttered. “How much time do we have until the end of the world?”

“THIS WORLD WILL END IN T-MINUS TWELVE MINUTES AND EIGHT SECONDS,” a female voice intoned over the hall’s loudspeakers.

“Thank you!” I called up to the speakers.

“YOU’RE WELCOME.”

“I will never look at Spaceballs the same way again,” I said. “WHERE THE HELL IS OUR AIR SUPPORT?”

“We’re underground!” Cindy snapped at me.

That was when a glowing Ultra-force nimbus zipped over our heads and blasted the soldiers. The nimbus was surrounding the beautiful Afro-Latina Gabrielle Anders, a.k.a Ultragoddess. She was wearing a gold and white costume—a short skirt over a pair of bicycle shorts, because well, she flew, and you don’t want people looking up your skirt while you’re saving them.

Ultragoddess was the daughter of the late Ultragod, world’s greatest superhero, and she was my ex-fiancée, if you could believe it. She was also our big gun and about the only reason we’d made it this far through the near-endless waves of 29th-century technology President Omega had fortified his bunker with.

“Clear!” Ultragoddess shouted.

Cindy and I stood up before looking back at the small group of superheroes and villains we’d gathered to join us in fighting President Omega’s doomsday plot. There was the Shadow Seven—technically, five since Gabrielle and I were members—and what few members of my gang were left. The Shadow Seven consisted of serpent-themed knight General Venom, speedster Bronze Medalist, the too-sexy-for-Halloween Black Witch, the Human Tank, and the Red Schoolgirl, who was a magic katana-wielding girl out of an anime. On my gang’s side, there was Diabloman, a red-suit-wearing demon-themed luchador, struggling as he ripped the arms of a combat robot and Nightgirl. Nightgirl was the deludedly heroic Amanda Douglas. She had a cloak like mine but with a different power set. Amanda also used hers for “good,” which was just strange to me.

Behind them were the two members of my family I was dragging along because leaving them outside was even worse than taking them into President Omega’s lair. There was my niece Lisa, a pink-haired teenage girl who had the superpower of creating small sparkling explosions. I called her Fireworks, even though I was determined to keep her from the superhuman life.

My sister, Kerri, was keeping her head down even as a small cadre of ghosts from World War II were shooting up the place around her. Ghosts liked my sister, almost as much as they hated me. She also didn’t want a codename. I’d equipped both in stolen laser-proof Foundation for World Harmony bodysuits, but still worried to death about them being injured and killed. Both had taken out a substantial chunk of our enemies, which was a benefit to go along with being able to watch over them.

“You’ve assembled quite an army here,” Cloak, my magical costume, said. “Perhaps enough to stop President Omega’s plan.”

“Yeah,” I said, without confidence. “Except we’ve failed two times before.”

Two times we’d tried this and ended with President Omega killing most of humanity. There were two centuries of misery remembered only by my wife Mandy. The woman I loved more than anyone else on Earth. A woman I’d already lost once before, only to lose her again when I’d brought her back from the dead with necromancy I’d botched. Mandy was an ensouled vampire now, restored to her former self as a bribe by Other Gary. It was the reason I was going to kill him quickly if I ever saw him. It was the least I could do after all the shit he’d pulled.

“I wouldn’t trust her,” Cloak said. “Vampires are wily creatures.”

“She’s my wife,” I insisted. “No matter how much time has passed between us.”

“Is she?” Cloak asked.

That was when I advanced with my little army around the corner only to find myself in a corridor filled with corpses. Dozens of them, in fact. There were DARPA scientists, Marines, U.S. Army soldiers, and more of Omega’s Darklight troopers. The last had been eviscerated with shadow magic and their blood drained from their bodies. I could tell because their organs were spread all out over the walls but very little blood was present.

Mandy was standing in the middle of the carnage. She was a beautiful Eurasian woman with long black hair down to her shoulders, a thick black leather coat, and a pleather bodysuit that kind of made her look like she was cosplaying as a video game character. Mandy was soaked in the gore surrounding her, leaving little doubt as to who murdered these people. Did I mention that, pre-vampirism, Mandy had never hurt anyone?

“Goddammit,” I muttered. “I hate when reality disagrees with me.”

“And yet it happens so often,” Cloak muttered.

“The U.S. troopers here were killed trying to stop President Omega’s nano-missles,” Mandy said, looking around her. “I avenged them.”

“That’s kind of good,” Cindy said, cheerfully ignoring the bloodshed. “What about the scientists?”

“Oh, those guys I killed,” Mandy said. “They’re the people who built this nano-plague monstrosity.”

Yeah, Mandy was a bit different. More vengeful. Darker. At least she only killed the wicked, for now.

“Are they going to rise from the dead as vampires?” Cindy asked.

“No,” Mandy said. “I need to share my blood with them as they’re dying.”

“Ah, Vampire: The Masquerade rules,” Cindy said.

“Or Dracula,” I pointed out. “The novel, not the vampire.”

“I’m just saying we could use a small army of mind-controlled undead cannon fodder,” Cindy said.

“No,” Mandy said.

“But—” Cindy started to say.

“No,” Mandy said, with finality.

“Right, the soul thing,” Cindy said. “I’m glad you have it back, but it’s very inconvenient when we’re trying to prevent a global genocide.”

“She wouldn’t care if she didn’t have a soul,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Cindy scrunched up her brow. “Well, maybe if we—”

“Stop it, please,” Mandy said. “I’d forgotten how much of a pain in the ass you two are when I have morals.”

“We should perhaps focus on the ten minutes we have left until doomsday,” Cloak said.

“Right,” I muttered, trying not to look at my blood-splattered vampire wife. “Have you seen Gabrielle? We kind of need to keep track of our big gun.”

“She zipped past me,” Mandy said, sticking her right thumb over her shoulder. “This is personal for her.”

“Other Gary killing her father will do that,” Cindy said, pulling out a surgical mask from her picnic basket and putting it over her face. “Can we do something about all the corpses here because this isn’t exactly sanitary?”

“We have bigger concerns than—” Mandy started to say.

“This is awesome!” Lisa said, coming up behind me and looking at the abattoir in front of me. My teenage niece’s eyes were as big as plates.

Kerri covered her eyes and tried to cover Lisa’s, which didn’t work out so well. The Shadow Seven stayed behind even as they fought a counterattack by President Omega’s men. The United States military was firmly against “crazy Nazis from the future,” presidents or not, but Omega had an endless supply of clones and alien mercs to fill in the holes his brainwashing methods couldn’t. I admit, though—I was getting sick of killing people to get to my opponents, and that wasn’t something I’d ever expected to happen. I was kind of a psychopath.

“More like a sociopath,” Cloak corrected. “They tend to have a certain code. A terrible nonsensical one, but a code nonetheless.”

“Thanks,” I thought back before turning to my niece. “You’re too young to see this kind of stuff.”

“It’s just like GoreFest V!” Lisa exclaimed, showing that my supervillain tendencies might be genetic. “I mean, that was all faked, but this is awesome. The smell could be better, perhaps, but—”

“EXCUSE ME, MERCILESS?” the female voice on the intercom said. “YOU HAVE ROUGHLY EIGHT MINUTES AND TWENTY SECONDS LEFT UNTIL THE END OF THE WORLD. YOU SHOULD PROBABLY GET TO STOPPING THAT.”

I looked up at the intercom. “You’re an awfully helpful A.I.”

“I’M NOT AN A.I. I’M PRESIDENT OMEGA’S ONLY LIVING SECRETARY. HE HAS ME LOCKED IN A ROOM DOING THESE ANNOUNCEMENTS.”

I blinked. “Oh, well, then thank you. I don’t suppose you could tell me where the President or Other Gary is.”

“SORRY, I’M KIND OF LOCKED UP HERE. I’M ROOTING FOR YOU, THOUGH, MERCILESS. MY SON PLAYS WITH YOUR ACTION FIGURE.”

I paused. “I better be getting a piece of that. I swear, you can’t trust these toy companies. They’re all criminals.”

Moments later, Diabloman jogged up from the other side of the hallway. The older supervillain looked winded, and I had to wonder if there was something wrong with him. Well, more wrong with him. He’d been one of the most famous supervillains of all time in the eighties, but time hadn’t been good to him. The black magic tattoos that gave him his powers were slowly killing him, and despite being given the best treatment stolen money could buy, he wasn’t looking so hot. Still, of all my henchmen, including Cindy, I thought of him as the most loyal.

Diabloman huffed and puffed before catching his breath. “I have found the president.”

“Thank God,” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. “How did you get ahead of us? Where is he?”

“Magic,” Diabloman said, giving the ‘ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer’ response I deserved. “As for where he is, he is in the missile silo command center. It is buried underneath hundreds of layers of magnetic shielding, mystical wards, and reinforced duratanium steel.”

I stared at him. “Isn’t that a bit excessive?”

“This is Other Gary’s influence. Usually, there’d just be just one easily surmountable defense which the villain is certain will defend against all attackers. It’s only people like you who think of layers upon layers of redundancies with their evil plans,” Mandy muttered. Shadows clung to her and she seemed to be not entirely of this earth anymore. I didn’t know if it was a result of her being an ensouled vampire or an after-effect of the time loop she’d been caught in.

“Oh, this is my fault now!?” I snapped. I was still a little defensive about the fact that my doppelgänger was destroying the world repeatedly. Oh, and that he’d murdered the greatest superhero who ever lived.

“Well, it kind of is your fault,” Cindy said, looking over her shoulder. “I mean, he is you.”

“Et tu, Cindy?” I said, placing my hand over my heart.

Diabloman looked behind him. “There is a way to get past the wards and defenses.”

“Which is?” I asked, knowing Diabloman was able to do so. After all, how else would he know where the president was?

“To be fair, his being in the most heavily defended part of the compound, which is also simultaneously essential to his plans, isn’t rocket science,” Cloak replied. “Which is appropriate since a bunch of rockets are about to be launched.”

“Missiles, not rockets,” I corrected. “There’s a difference. I think.”

“The only way I can see to get through the barriers President Omega has erected is to side-step through the Inferno,” Diabloman said. “I can take one passenger with me.”

I paused. “Could you repeat that?”

“You telling Gary to go to hell?” Cindy asked.

“No way!” Mandy hissed. “We’re not taking—”

I tried not to smirk and failed. “Sounds like an awful plan. I’m in.”

“What?” Mandy did a double take.

“Bill and Ted were able to go to hell and come back; how bad could it be? Besides, I visited it before,” I said, shrugging. “Was pretty nice. I got to speak with Death, talk with my brother—”

“What?” Kerri interjected. “You never mentioned that.”

“My father?” Lisa asked. “You talked with my father and you didn’t tell me?”

“Whoops.” I walked up to Diabloman and grabbed him by the arm. “OK, time to go to the Inferno. No time to waste.”

“But—” Diabloman said.

“Now!” I snapped.

“This is a terrible idea,” Cloak said.

“Since when has that stopped me before?” I asked.

“That’s not a defense!” Cloak shouted.

Diabloman, perhaps realizing time wasn’t on the side of humanity, proceeded to teleport us both through Hell. During his heyday, he’d used this ability extensively to escape from superheroes who had him cornered, but he’d lost it for almost a decade. The mayhem he’d wrecked with me had gotten it back for him. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but for now, I was grateful he had it.

Grateful for about five seconds. You see, on my last trip to the Underworld, I’d been going to see Death at her behest. If I’d thought about it, I might have realized she’d given me safe passage through her realm. That I wasn’t going to be affected by all the terrible things inflicted on souls around me. Things that affected me as I passed through the underworld with Diabloman.

I witnessed my brother, Keith, gunned down by the antihero Shoot-Em-Up because he used to be the villain Stingray. I lived through Gabrielle erasing my mind of her secret identity as Ultragoddess. The lack of trust that made her think I’d get killed if I continued to date her. I experienced Mandy telling me she didn’t want to have children only after we’d married and I’d fallen in love with her.

I lived through Mandy dying at the hands of the Brotherhood of Infamy’s dragon. I saw Mandy’s vampire form rejecting me, having lost her soul and having become the antithesis of the woman I loved. I felt the despair of being unable to return Mandy to her original self for a year.

I experienced giving in to my love for Cindy in that year and hating myself for it, even as she had her heart broken over my rejection. This was hell. An eternity of regret, pain, and despair. Living all your worst memories and tragedies, over and over, forever.

I then thumped on the ground in the middle of a missile silo’s bottom. Above my head  were a massive set of rocket boosters attached to an extra-large ICBM stretching up to the sealed roof. Standing nearby, behind a transparent steel window in a supercrete bunker, was President Omega in a bubbleheaded suit of 29th-century golden armor. He was an obnoxiously smug-looking middle-aged Caucasian man with a bad toupee and tiny hands.

Diabloman hoisted me up. “We’re here.”

“Yeah,” I said, looking up. “We are.”

That was when President Omega turned on the rocket boosters and the world became an ocean of fire.

Chapter Two

WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE FINAL BOSS FIGHT

I grabbed Diabloman by the arm and turned us intangible before the flames blew down upon us. Having seen Moonraker, I was sure when someone put you under a set of rocket boosters, they intended to burn you alive, and President Omega was the very definition of a Bond villain. Well, a Bond villain who had time-travel powers and was the former head of the Third Reich after Hitler was captured by Ultragod.

“So, nothing like a Bond villain,” Cloak said. My constant companion was showing surprising snark given that we were hopelessly outmatched by a villain who’d beaten us multiple times before.

As the flames passed through us, I couldn’t help but imagine myself burning to death. It was ironic: We’d just escaped from hell and now we were in a lake of fire. Not that hell was a particularly hot place. Really, having been there, I could attest that hell was cold. It was empty of anything but regret, frustration, and the desires of people who’d turned their backs on their better natures. People like me.

The flames of the ICBM’s rocket boosters died down around us before the super-concrete cooled at an incredibly fast rate. I could see President Omega’s disappointment through his clear helmet even as he stared down upon us.

“You really are a difficult-to-kill pest,” President Omega boomed. “I was honestly hoping that would be the end of you.”

I looked up at him. “Really? Because that was a piss-poor death trap right there. You just pushed a button. A proper death trap involves us being tied up, preferably with a loved one, and then slowly lowered to our doom. You didn’t even give a proper villainous monologue to us before you did the fry-us plan. How the hell did a guy like you ever get chosen by my doppelgänger to be his partner?”

I was curious about that because Other Gary was similar enough to me that I had no idea why the fuck he would ever ally with a frigging NAZI. I mean, evil must have standards if it wants to maintain any pretense of cool, and Nazis are the bottom of the bad guy barrel.

“I am in charge!” President Omega shouted before blasting a hole in his concrete bunker and using his rocket pack to fly out to battle us.

Yes! He was stupid enough to confront us directly! I loved when taunting people worked!

“You’re actually going to pretend that was part of a plan?” Cloak said. “Who do you think you’re fooling?”

“You, obviously,” I replied, patting Diabloman on the back. “Ready, old chum?”

Diabloman collapsed to one knee. “I . . . I do not think I will be able to help you during this battle, Boss.”

Ah crap. Who knew a journey through hell would fuck up a guy? Hmm, that sounded more sarcastic than I’d intended. I’d just have to make sure President Omega didn’t kill us all in the meantime. Which meant it was taunting time! I would taunt him like a superpowered high school student in a spider costume! Which was a weirdly specific example I had no context for.

“Oh please,” I said, snorting. “You’re not the Big Bad, Omega! I’m the star of this little drama, and Gary is my Evil Counterpart. Good Counterpart. Counterpart-Counterpart. Listen, it doesn’t matter. You may think you’re in charge here, but you’re not even close. You’re at most the Saruman to Other Gary’s Sauron. The Count Dooku to his Palpatine. The other Christopher Lee character to someone who is the Big Bad.”

“Dracula to his Satan,” Cloak offered. “The person, not the book.”

“Brilliant!” I said, congratulating Cloak. “Because I had The Man with the Golden Gun next and he didn’t answer to anyone.”

“I am the end of time!” President Omega shouted, hovering eight feet above us with his rocket pack. He pulled out a huge glowing gun, which was tied to his suit of armor by a shining electrical cord. “I have warped this world’s timeline inside and out! Whole civilizations have risen and fallen upon my command! I will launch a weapon that will wipe out all superpowered beings in the world and leave me as the undisputed master of the world for—”

“A century,” I interrupted. “That’s how long it’s going to take until Other Gary resets the world and leaves you holding the bag.”

“What?” President Omega said, stopping mid-speech.

I stared at him, then burst out laughing. “Oh my God! You don’t know! You really are the Big Bad Wannabe.”

“Resets time!” President Omega shouted. “What are you talking about?”

“Ever play the game Majora’s Mask?” I asked.

President Omega looked confused.

“I’ll take that as a no,” I said. “Well, it’s kind of like that. If you don’t want to play a past generation console title or get an emulator, I also offer Groundhog Day, except instead of endlessly repeating one day, it’s a century of harvesting the life energy of billions killed in a pointless war between you and me.”

“So nothing like Groundhog—” Cloak started to say.

“Not the time!” I said.

“I don’t believe you!” President Omega shouted, aiming his future gun down at me. “You’d do anything to stop the launch of my nanoplague!”

I blinked. “Before we continue, isn’t that averted? You just fired the rockets on the ICBM above me without launching it. Don’t you have to refuel it now?”

President Omega replied in a dignified and calm manner befitting the Commander-in-Chief. “DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE!”

I was forced to dodge and dance around the ground as the air filled with dozens of bolts of energy. Diabloman struggled to get up to help but ended up collapsing, and I wondered if he was having a heart attack.

Crap. I threw fireballs and blasts of ice at President Omega only for him to teleport away from each of them before appearing behind me. Even a blast that only came a few inches away burned my shoulder, and I knew a direct hit would kill me. The only redeeming quality was they didn’t seem to have aim assist in the future, and Omega was too pissed off to aim correctly.

“Do you know of all the historical figures I wanted to meet in the future, you were actually near the top of the list?” President Omega hissed, his voice growing shrill and obsessed.

“Uh, thank you?” I said, levitating out of the way of another blast. I couldn’t fly, more like float, but it added a nice bit of speed to my jumps and movements to weigh less.

“It’s not a compliment!” President Omega hissed. “It’s because of you and the Society of Superheroes the future is a disaster!”

This coming from the man who had a plan to kill a tenth of the world. “Uh-huh. I’m sorry I’m such a force for bad that it offends even you.”

That was when he stopped shooting and his eyes bore down on me. “It wasn’t you being a force for bad. It was you making the future so goddamn boring!”

I stared at him. “Hold up, what?”

“Do you know what it like in the twenty-ninth century?” President Omega asked.

“I admit, I never made it past the twenty-second when I wanted to find out how A Song of Ice and Fire turned out. Who knew Sansa and Jon would end up together? That’s the Extended Edition, though.”

President Omega was too busy frothing at the mouth to respond. “It’s nothing but clean highways, roads, trees, and ecologically-friendly arcologies throughout the solar system! Clean, fuel-efficient vehicles powered by fusion! Every disease cured and life spans ranging in the centuries! Everyone is rich because replicators make everything! It’s like fucking Star Trek except everyone isn’t a communist.”

“Only Chekhov was!” I said. “Everyone else was a socialist!”

President Omega continued ranting. “Human society became a joke! A pocket of whiny little wimps and idealists in their own small galaxy versus determined conquerors exterminating every other species in the galaxy!”

I started charging a fireball behind my back. “OK, someone has played way too much Warhammer 40K. Assuming they still play that in the future. It’s probably an MMORPG holodeck program now or something like Westworld. Have you seen Westworld? The series, not the movie, though I liked it too. I love that show. It’s probably wrong I want to visit but—”

President Omega raised his gun and aimed it at my heart. “Your fault.”

I paused. “OK, I’m going to call bullshit on that.”

“Thank you,” Cloak said.

“No way in hell am I responsible for some sort of utopian Golden Age of Sci-Fi future. That’s slightly less likely than the Wild Stallions bringing it about with the power of their music. Only U2 could do that and they haven’t yet.”

President Omega surprised me by not firing. Instead, he conjured up a hundred holographic, free-floating screens around me. They all showed various alternate realities and timelines. “In countless realities, do you know what happens without you?”

“Mandy marries the Black Witch, Gabrielle continues being a swinging single, and Cindy gets her own awesome talk show?”

“I don’t think The Stripping Doctor would be an awesome show,” Cloak said. “Popular, but not awesome.”

“Meow,” I said to Cloak, smirking. “Where’d that come from?”

“I think you’re a bad influence on me,” Cloak said.

President Omega said, “Killer Clown kills six non-powered superheroes before he dies. The Typewriter blows up the Falconcrest State Building with a faulty nuclear device. The Brotherhood of Infamy goes national after eliminating most of Falconcrest City and gaining thousands of imitation cloaks. Bob Stephens kills the man who’d cure AIDS in a mugging.”

I paused. “Who?”

“A henchman you killed during a bank robbery,” Cloak said.

“Oh,” I said. “So, wait, you’re saying I help make the future a perfect place of peace because I kill criminals? Wow, that is an awful, awful Aesop. I’m against the death penalty, you know. Mostly because I’m a multiple murderer.”

President Omega’s voice took on a manic glee. “I had to undo the horrible future I was born in. That’s why I learned the sciences of temporal mechanics and hypertech engineering. I dedicated my life to journeying through the various timelines to destroy those instrumental to my future! Ultragod, Ultragoddess, Guinevere, the Nightwalker, Doctor Martin Luther—”

“Oh, you better not be finishing that sentence the way I think you are,” I said, my voice lowering.

“Stephens,” President Omega said. “He was the man who invented fusion. You, however, eluded me. It was only when Other Gary appeared with your identity that I had the chance to destroy you!”

I’d decided I’d had enough of Crazy Man and fired my charging blast. Upward. The blast of supernatural fire sailed upwards through the center of the ICBM above us and out the top, smashing into the supercrete barrier above it. A black ooze of inanimate nanobots spilled out of the resulting hole, filling up the chamber floor as I levitated above it. Diabloman was nowhere to be seen.

“What the hell was that?” President Omega said, glaring.

“Just me thwarting your plan,” I said, cheerfully.

President Omega chuckled. “I have over a hundred ICBMs in this facility.”

“Oh,” I said, frowning. “That sucks.”

“Time to launch them.” President Omega laughed.

The announcer lady interrupted. “ACTUALLY, PRESIDENT OMEGA, THE OTHERS HAVE DISABLED THE LAUNCHING SYSTEM. I’M AFRAID YOUR PLANS TO KILL ALL SUPERS HAS FAILED.”

What should have been a moment of calm became one of eerie silence as President Omega conjured a holographic keyboard over his left gauntlet and started typing into it. It took me a second to realize he was powering his time machine.

“I can’t erase you, Mister Karkofsky. Like me, you have altered time so much you’re impossible to affect with temporal energy. I can, however, erase every single person you’ve ever met.” President Omega took a deep breath. “I think I’ll start with your sister and niece.”

That was when Diabloman leapt onto the back of the president’s rocket pack, burning himself but ignoring the damage. He then smashed his fists into the rocket pack, repeatedly, crushing the metal like it was tinfoil. President Omega proceeded to smash around the room like a pinball before bouncing against the ground three or four times. His armor might have protected him from the worst of it, but I could see his face was a bloody mess inside his helmet. I had a choice between walking over to President Omega and checking to see if Diabloman was still all right. I chose to go to President Omega.

“Fuck . . . you,” President Omega hissed, still alive as he reached over for his gauntlet.

I made a finger gun, then concentrated all my remaining magical energy into a single inch-long flame.

“Bang,” I said, blasting through the President’s helmet and out the other side. His hands dropped to one side and his body stopped moving. I’d killed the son of a bitch at last. It didn’t fill me with a sense of glee, nor did I feel any guilt. I was just glad the bastard was dead and couldn’t threaten my family anymore.

“Actually, that may not be true,” Cloak said, sounding sad. “You’ve killed his current temporal avatar, but he’s been unhooked from time. I’m not sure killing him now will really keep him dead. You can even now see his body disintegrating from this timeline.”

Indeed, Cloak was right. President Omega’s body started to vanish like Marty McFly’s siblings in his family photo.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. “Heroes die but villains never stay dead. It’s just like it is in comic books.”

“The ones in my day had good always triumphing over evil,” Cloak said sadly.

I paused, looking between President Omega’s slowly vanishing body and Diabloman’s horribly injured one. “You know, for once, I kind of wish it was like those books. It’s no fun being evil when good is the underdog.”

I rushed to Diabloman’s side, seeing that his legs were horrifically burned and he wasn’t breathing. I started to give him CPR, knowing that wasn’t probably going to do much.

“Stay with me, D!” I shouted, punching on his chest. “How the hell are we going to kill President Omega repeatedly until he stays dead if you die on me?”

Amazingly, after punching and breathing down his throat for far longer than should have been possible, he started to breathe again. The devil tattoos under his suit then crawled out from under his sleeves before starting to operate on his wounds like tiny minions.

“He won’t thank you for saving his life,” a voice spoke behind me.

My voice.

“Other Gary,” I muttered, turning around.

“Can we stop calling me that? That’s even more stupid than Merciless: The Supervillain without Mercy™. I mean, why even say the trademark?”

Other Gary was almost—but not quite—identical to me. While I was a man in my early thirties, Other Gary looked like he was approaching fifty or just past it. His cloak was snow white rather than jet black, and I saw numerous scars across his hands from where they’d been burned by the magic I wielded effortlessly. Most notably, his expression was one of immense loss, and his eyes lacked any of the vitality I saw in the mirror. They were the eyes of a soul that had been put through the ringer so many times it was stretched to the breaking point. Losing your universe will do that.

“I’m not really in the joking mood with my friend near death,” I said, staring at the man. “Shouldn’t you be dead? I know you survived my killing you, but I’d like to know how you did that.”

“As you are the Champion of Death, so am I the Champion of Life,” Other Gary said. “I can regenerate from a subatomic particle.”

That would make things difficult. “Funny, for the Champion of Life, you kill a shit ton of people.”

“Everyone I murder will be restored back to life,” Other Gary said, his voice almost a hiss. “You, of all people, should understand why I’m doing this.”

“Murdering billions to harvest their life-energy? Allying with a Nazi? No, actually, I’m kind of lost,” I said, shaking my head. “I know you lost your universe, but it’s back! It’s right around us!”

“This is not my universe,” Other Gary said, his voice cold. “Superheroes are constantly riddled with angst and lose as often as they win. The world is dirty, cynical, and full of ultraviolence. Women dress like whores—”

“Which is a plus. All we need is the men to dress sexier, and we’ve got a party for all sides,” I said.

Other Gary’s mouth twitched as if he were suppressing a smile. “The simple fact is, I need to create a pocket universe where my earth will be restored. Where Ultragod, my Mandy, the Nightwalker, and all the others I’ve lost will be by my side. It justifies everything.”

“Bullshit,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “You murdered Ultragod. I have to kill you for that.”

It was hard to hate yourself when you had such high self-esteem, but Other Gary was really helping me overcome that.

“I don’t want to kill you. Thankfully, I don’t have to.” Other Gary pulled out a weird psychedelic pulsating disc that produced a rainbow of colors. Don’t look at the disc.”

Of course, I looked at the disc. “What?”

“No!” Cloak shouted. “It’s the Mad Hypnotist’s Hypno-Coin!”

“You could have . . . “ I said as my voice started to slow down. “Said that before . . . I looked.”

Chapter Three

WHERE WE SKIP OVER MY IMPRISONMENT

The next few days (weeks? months? I wasn’t sure) were kind of blurry. They were like a dream I couldn’t wake up from. In fact, it was during my dreams that I felt most alive. They were when I could remember who I was. In my sleep, I saw myself as Merciless: The Supervillain without Mercy™, with all my amazing friends. I robbed banks, fought the president, and gave a finger to the man. By day? I was just a prisoner. Albeit one in a gilded cage.

“We Built This City on Rock and Roll” woke me up from my latest slumber. It was, in my opinion, the worst song ever written. It was a great band chiding corporate sellouts while being corporate sellouts. That was the only kind of music that played in Undertown, though. It didn’t have to be music recorded by the actual artists too, as I’d listened to the entirety of Bob Dylan’s discography done by forgotten boy bands of the nineties. Truly, my captor was a genius at psychologically breaking down his captives. And that was the just the music.

“Gosh darn it,” I muttered, having been conditioned not to swear. “I was having such a delightfully bad dream. I was engaged in all manner of felonious behavior.”

God, I hated talking like that.

Reaching over to turn off the eighties radio alarm clock on my desk, I took stock of my surroundings. I was in my bed with a copy of the hardback edition of Cthulhu Armageddon resting on my chest. I’d read the book over a dozen times since my imprisonment and was still fascinated by it even as I cursed the fact that I hadn’t picked up the sequel before the end of the world.

Undertown was a curious kind of prison, designed to resemble an Everytown, America of various decades mixed together. You couldn’t swear, steal, eat red meat, or engage in anything resembling mayhem, but you could have all the sex you wanted and read scary books. Not that Mandy and I didn’t rebel against our prison’s strictures every chance we could.

Oh, yes, Mandy was trapped down here with me. I didn’t know how my captor, who I sometimes remembered was Other Gary, had managed to grab her. I think he thought he was doing me a favor, not realizing I would have preferred my wife to be free no matter how miserable I would be without her.

I slid out of bed, walked to the shower, and got dressed. I wore a tweed sweater, bow tie, thick horn-rimmed glasses, and a pair of slacks. Most of the time, I didn’t even know I was a prisoner but just believed the weird story that we were survivors of a nuclear apocalypse. Today, at least, I was aware I was a prisoner. Indeed, just a month ago, I’d woken from my fugue state screaming “WE’RE TRAPPED IN THE MATRIX!” and “THIS IS A PRISON WE’RE MIND-CONTROLLED TO ENJOY!” I also threw in, “SOYLENT GREEN IS PEOPLE!”, which didn’t seem to apply to the situation but felt appropriate.

Whistling the Oscar Meyer Wiener song once dressed, I headed down to the kitchen where my beautiful wife Mandy was waiting. She was dressed in a beautiful polka dot dress with a set of pearls around her neck and her hair styled in a retro-1950s manner that I despised but  couldn’t quite articulate any criticisms of. Our kitchen was wonderfully well furnished, which made it a shame there was a burning charcoal briquette in the microwave. Presumably, that was breakfast. I vaguely recalled being the one who made food in our house before we were prisoners, but Undertown enforced gender roles. So, we ate crap food every day.

Swell!

“Hello, Spouse!” I said, trying to suppress my enforced cheer and failing. “Something smells wonderful and not at all like burnt flesh.”

“Hello, Spouse!” Mandy said with a big forced smile. “That’s the hand of one of our robotic neighbors that I cut off last evening.”

I cocked my head to one side. “Now why would you do something like that?”

“Because I truly hate this place,” Mandy said, smiling with her fangs protruding. “The only real people who live in here are as brainwashed as we are, and I can tell the difference by the warm red fluid in their bodies.”

I pointed at her and gave a mirthful chuckle. “It sounds like someone needs another round of rehabilitation. It’s been, what, six weeks since our last one?”

“Yes,” Mandy said, putting a hand to the side of her face and laughing. “We doused the punch bowl with vampire blood and everyone had a huge orgy before wrecking the place. Wasn’t that fun?”

“Oh yes,” I said, chuckling. “I seem to recall trying to blow the entire town up. Boy, did the guards object to that!”

“Do you ever wonder if we’re in a secret prison facility of some nefarious power that watched too many episodes of Patrick McGoohan’s classic sci-fi drama The Prisoner?” Mandy asked, walking over to hug me.

I hugged her back. “Not at all. I would, however, have killed myself if not for you by now.”

Mandy was silent for a moment. “Me too.”

We held each other for over a minute.

“Do you want to report each other to the authorities?” Mandy asked.

“No,” I said, glad I could resist the brainwashing. The guards were getting better at keeping us under control. I think I understood their plan. The longer we lived as our fake selves, even if it was against our will, the more we became like the people they wanted us to be, even if it was only a diluted form.

I used to make constant references to things like Pleasantville, Mad Men, Saints Row IV, and other topics that had no meaning to me anymore. I was devoid of pop culture references, and Mandy was the only one who seemed to remember anything of the outside world. She’d been particularly horrified I’d forgotten something called The Star Wars. I didn’t know why. I mean, I didn’t even like science fiction.

“Husband?” Mandy said, pulling away. “Would you be a dear and get the morning paper?”

“Certainly,” I said, trying not to smile but failing. “After all, service to your spouse is secondary only to service to the state.”

I suppressed an urge to smash my head against the wall until I was dead. Mandy gave my arm one more squeeze then walked to the fridge to get the number for the pizza place.

“I don’t suppose you can hear me now,” Cloak said in my mind.

I responded back telepathically, “Maybe I can. Maybe I’ve learned not to articulate my responses because every room has cameras and listening devices.”

“Good,” Cloak said. “Because our last escape attempt was a complete disaster.”

“It was a complete disaster, Voice in My Head,” I said, telepathically back. “Because we’re still here and I’m still hearing things.”

Cloak sighed, which was impressive since he didn’t have any lungs. “My name is Lancel Warren, I’m the ghost of the Nightwalker—”

“Who?” I asked.

“Never mind,” Cloak said. “You’ve been brainwashed not to be able to hear me for the most part because they couldn’t remove me from you. Other Gary—”

“Other Gary?”

Cloak continued as if he hadn’t heard me. “–is running this prison because he doesn’t want you threatening his rule.”

“What’s going on outside?” I whispered, opening the door to get the paper.

Beyond the door lay a picturesque circular neighborhood with row after row of identical houses. Robotic eye-drones flew around, constantly scanning the place, while an enormous lamp served as our sun.

“I have no idea,” Cloak admitted. “I’ve been with you the entire time.”

“Ah,” I muttered. “I don’t suppose you have any awesome superpowers that could help me and my wife bust out of this place.”

“I’m sorry, but the place is heavily warded.” Cloak sighed. “Magic is impossible to manifest here except the most minute kind—such as my being able to talk to you.”

“Great,” I said, picking up the paper and reading the headline: NOTHING HAPPENED YESTERDAY. “So, you’re an officially useless distraction.”

“I’ll forgive that, Gary, as I’ve forgiven all your other insults over these past few years.”

“Years?” I asked, speaking a little too loud.

“Yes,” Cloak admitted, his voice sounding grave. “You have been imprisoned here for the better part of five years.”

A sense of overwhelming despair washed over me as I dropped the morning paper. Five years? Dear God. In a moment, I had a flash of the people I’d left behind. I knew their names. Gabrielle. Cindy. Diabloman (I should find out his real name.) Kerri. Lisa. They were my family.

My supervillain crime family.

I was a supervillain. It was like a dam breaking in my mind, giving me at last knowledge of who I was and where I came from. Other Gary had managed to brainwash me repeatedly and was tearing away my life one year at a time. I remembered killing President Omega and stopping the apocalypse they said had destroyed the world. But were my friends still alive? Was my family? What had Other Gary been doing while I was in his zoo?

“I can’t answer that,” Cloak said. “I wish I could.”

“You said five years?” I grunted, no longer caring if the guards could hear me. “Have we even gotten close to escaping?” I tried to remember more details about my prison, but the guards had taken those away too. I’d escaped from the most secure prison in the universe six years ago, a prison that had been built into the side of the Society of Superheroes’ headquarters on the moon, no less, but it had nothing on this place. This place stole who you were.

“No,” Cloak said. “We haven’t even gotten close. Mandy? Yes. You? No. The person who designed this prison knows you better than anyone else on Earth.”

I was about ready to let forth a scream of desperation, one that would result in the guards coming to drag me away again when the entire left corner of Undertown exploded. It sent a shockwave through the rest of the town, causing hundreds of windows to shatter. I was thrown onto my back by the explosion, my ears ringing worse than when I’d last attended a Blind Guardian concert.

“Ow,” I muttered, feeling like I’d just been hit with a car. “Did you do that?”

“I most certainly did not,” Cloak replied. “It appears the town is under attack.”

“Thank God,” I said, getting up to go see what was happening.

Mandy, meanwhile, appeared right beside me. Although magic was blocked inside Undertown, she was still able to use most of her powers. I suspected that was one reason she’d gotten closer to escaping than I ever had. The other reason being that my wife was just plain smarter than I was.

“Gary, what’s going on?” Mandy said, looking out past me at the rising smoke from where a huge hole had been blown in our town’s cavernous walls.

“It appears the town is under attack,” I said, climbing to my feet.

“Thank the Goddess,” Mandy said, smiling. “Hopefully, whoever it is will kill us all.”

“PRISONERS IN IMMINENT DANGER OF ESCAPE,” a mechanical voice called up from the top of our house’s stairs. “ENACTING EMERGENCY SUPPRESSION PROTOCOLS.”

“That’s not good,” I said, turning around.

“You think?” Mandy growled.

Turning around, I looked up to see the figure of our next-door neighbor Esmeralda Crane. She was a tall, black-haired Indian woman, with a more muscular frame than normal. Her normal 1950s attire was replaced with a silver bodysuit which seemed to merge with her skin. Large metal claws the size of steak knives jutted out of her fingertips. Her eyes were a bright shade of silver with a complete absence of humanity.

I remembered, now, Esmeralda had been one of our allies for our frequent escape attempts. She’d come with a pre-fabricated history of being an actress who had offended Other Gary. Esmeralda had a beautifully touching story about having lost her spouse, Lisa, in the brainwashing camps. In retrospect, I probably should have realized her backstory was wholesale ripped from V for Vendetta.

“You didn’t notice our neighbor was a cyborg?” I said, looking up. “Tsk tsk tsk. You’re slipping, Mandy.”

“You didn’t notice either!” Mandy snapped.

Esmeralda proceeded to breathe out a torrent of white-hot fire, which both me and Mandy barely managed to dodge. Her because of superhuman vampire speed, and me because of seeing something ridiculous like that coming.

“THE FIRST CITIZEN OF FALCONCREST CITY COMMANDS YOUR COMPLIANCE!” Esmeralda said, her voice shrill and robotic like System Shock’s Shodan. Wait, I remembered Shodan! My internal pop culture library was coming back!

“Priorities, Gary,” Cloak said.

“Hush you!” I snapped back.

Mandy and Esmeralda then charged at each other, grappling in the air as they levitated before starting to smash through walls. Unfortunately, I was still powerless and way out of my league.

Dammit!

Fueled by my anger, I ran to the side door to the garage, grabbed a shovel, and returned to attack Esmeralda. By then, Mandy had already dispatched the brainwashed killing machine. Mandy was holding the robotic organism’s head as it dripped a combination of motor oil and gore. If there had ever been an Esmeralda Crane, then she’d died in the surgeries to transform her into the killing machine before us.

“Oh,” I said, looking down. “Well, that was anticlimactic.”

Mandy, covered in blood, looked quite pleased with herself. “You can have the next one, Spouse.”

I smirked. That was when the entire front of our house exploded and a four-ton combination of tank and car smashed through it. It was painted jet black and covered in scorch marks from where the robotic guards had blasted it repeatedly. It was a magnificent specimen of next-generation future-tech. I saw a stylized N on the hubcaps.

“What. The. Fuck.” I stared at it.

“The Nightcar!” Cloak said, positively gleeful. “Someone’s removed all of the red paint and Merciless logos!”

“Who dares!” I said, having a supervillainous moment as more of my brainwashing fell away.

The top of the vehicle then slid back, revealing a Japanese American woman in a black hooded cloak in the driver’s seat. I recognized her in an instant. It was Amanda Douglas, a.k.a. Nightgirl. a.k.a. the second Nightwalker, a.k.a. Mercilass, among other nicknames I’d given her. It struck me as strange that she was the person who’d come to rescue us. We’d never been that close and had been enemies at several points. Maybe everyone else was dead.

Even so, seeing her was like a splash of cold water in the face, and I felt all the lingering controls in my mind fade away. Even if I was killed in the next few moments, I would be forever grateful to her for shaking my mind free from its prison.

“You’ve actually shaken yourself free thirty-two times already,” Cloak said. “Just saying.”

“Way to kill the mood, Cloak,” I replied.

Amanda looked panicked as she gazed between us. “OK, this is going to sound crazy, but you are—”

“Merciless and Nighthuntress,” Mandy said, nodding. “You’re Nightgirl. We know.”

“I am not—” Amanda started to say before shaking her head. “Listen to me—”

“Come with me if you want to live!” I said, remembering all my lost pop culture quips. “Please say it.”

“It doesn’t make sense if you say it,” Mandy said. “It’s ruined now.”

“Get in the car!” Amanda shouted, honking the horn of the vehicle, and nearly deafening us. “We don’t have much time!”

To show just how screwed up I was by Other Gary’s brainwashing, my first thoughts weren’t for myself or my wife. Instead—ugh—they were for other people. “This prison is full of probably, maybe, possibly innocent people! We have to free them as well!”

That was when all the loudspeakers in Undertown started speaking with the same female announcer’s voice from President Omega’s base. “I’m sorry, but containment protocols have been initiated. We are now going to kill everyone in Undertown.”

That was when the north side of the town detonated, followed by the south.

“Right, into your car,” I said, jumping in as Mandy did the same.

“Hold onto your butts,” Amanda said, sealing up the Nightcar and hitting the accelerator.

Chapter Four

WHERE WE ESCAPE FROM SURBURBAN HELL

The Nightcar barreled down a long circular tube, which I took to be the primary air vent of Undertown. The place was littered with laser cannon turrets and energy mines, which would have destroyed us if not for the fact the Nightcar always moved out of the way at the last second. It also used a series of machine guns built into its front to tear through the automated defenses keeping us in. Did I mention we were moving at ninety miles per hour?

“OK, who died and made Michael Bay the director of my life?” I said, sitting in the front seat beside Amanda.

“Now is not the time, Gary!” Amanda said. “I have to focus on driving!”

“Who taught you how to drive like this?” Mandy asked in the backseat.

“I—” Amanda started to say.

“WARNING - AUTOMATED DEFENSIVE DRIVING ASSISTANCE AT 85%. PLEASE DO NOT INTERFERE WITH MOVEMENT,” the Nightcar’s computer said.

I gave her a sideways glare. “Focus on driving, huh?”

“I’m learning!” Amanda said, a little too edgy.

“Well, thank you for rescuing us,” I said, thinking about the burned-out ruins of Undertown and the hundreds of people we’d left to die. “I’m sorry we couldn’t get more people out.”

Amanda stared forward. “We’ve known about your location for months. The others weren’t willing to go in, though, because they knew the hostages would die.”

“But you went in anyway,” Mandy said, her voice surprised and hurt.

“We’re losing,” Amanda said softly. “In the end, you’re the only person who can stop the threat afflicting Falconcrest City.”

“That’s flattering,” I said, putting my hand on my heart. “I mean, I know—”

“I meant Mandy,” Amanda said.

“Oh,” I said, disappointed. “Uh, go team.”

“Stop what threat?” Mandy asked, her tone suddenly cold and dispassionate. “President Omega is dead, right?”

“He’s not merely dead, but really most sincerely dead,” Amanda said, keeping her eye on the tunnel.

“Ha!” I burst out laughing. “The Wizard of Oz! Awesome.”

Amanda looked at me sideways.

“I’ve been out of action for a while.” I took a deep breath. “I’m still a little off-kilter.”

“You’re off-kilter?” Mandy said. “I’ve lived a two-century time loop and spent the past five years playing Suzie Homemaker.”

“Which you did a truly awful job at,” I reassured her.

“Thank you,” Mandy said. “I tried. Can we get something else for me to wear? Anything?”

“I think you look good in nothing,” I said, cheerfully.

Mandy grinned and started undressing.

“Ahem,” Amanda said, grimacing. “I hate to be the one to interrupt the happily married couple, but Other Gary’s nano-bots have sealed over the exit and it’s about a half-kilometer of supercrete long.”

“Ah crap,” I said, as alarms blared across the interior of the Nightcar.

“Grab my hand,” Amanda said. “We need to get through that wall.”

I knew what she meant. “I’m not exactly at top per—”

“Now!” Amanda said.

I grabbed the seat and turned the Nightcar insubstantial.

“Ludicrous speed! Go!” I shouted, giddy.

I didn’t get a chance to rebut him because my face was suddenly pressing against the back of my skull due to g-forces equivalent to a shuttle launch. The Nightcar passed through hundreds of feet of supercrete, my powers straining themselves to the limit to keep us from being entombed alive. I almost lost it but managed to hold onto my power just long enough for the Nightcar to burst through the other end. Sunlight, real sunlight, streamed through the windows before the car smashed into the middle of a grassy field.

“I am really glad you two can do that,” Mandy said, exhaling. She was half-dressed with smudged makeup and messy hair. She looked more like herself than she’d looked in literal years.

“Me too,” I wheezed, letting go of Amanda’s hand.

“Activate the stealth system,” Amanda said.

The Nightcar’s tires turned sideways and levitated the vehicle sideways. The car zoomed down the grassy hills and between trees as a weird bubble-like field surrounded it. It reminded me of Die Another Day’s invisible car. Ugh. The worst of the Bond movies. Thankfully, it also reminded me of Back to the Future 2.

“Please,” Cloak said. “Tell me we’re not going to be doing this constantly.”

“No promises,” I muttered.

The Nightcar traveled for about twenty more minutes before pulling out onto a hill outside of Falconcrest City and coming to a stop.

Amanda took a deep breath. “OK, we can talk now.”

I responded by throwing up in the front seat.

“Oh, that’s nasty,” Amanda muttered.

I rubbed my temples. “I should probably have mentioned I get motion sick when I’m not driving.”

“My poor car,” Cloak muttered. “My poor, poor car. How are we going to fix it? You can’t exactly just take it to the cleaners.”

“Hush. You never even liked it,” I said.

“That’s not the point,” Cloak said. “It was a gift from my brother.”

“Be glad that wasn’t this morning’s meal,” Mandy said.

The three of us got out of the Nightcar, more like hobbled in my case, and we were soon standing on the edge of a cliff overlooking Falconcrest City. It wasn’t the Falconcrest City of my memories, but something far different. Gone were the miles of slums leading up to the city, replaced by beautiful suburbs and retro-future works of architecture.

The industrial section of the city was ultra-modernized with the old city’s smokestacks and dirty chemical plants replaced with chrome factories. The air was clean and the Falconcrest City Bay no longer looked like an ocean of sludge. Instead, it was a gleaming crystal lake—and not the kind serial killers stalked. Electromagnetic zeppelins hovered in the air, advertising various Omega Corp products.

“Wow,” I said, staring at the sight. “What has Other Gary done to my city?”

Amanda sighed. “After you killed President Omega, World War 3 ended a few weeks later. Twelve million people died before the world’s militaries could stop Omega’s loyalists and mercenaries. Other Gary stepped up to claim he was the man responsible for stopping President Omega, pretending to be you, and was rewarded with all of Omega Corp’s assets. He used the billions to rebuild the world and get himself declared First Citizen.”

I stared. “Wait a minute—”

“I haven’t even begun to explain things,” Amanda said.

I gestured to the refurbished city. “I killed the President of the United States and got his stuff? When did the United States start working under Necromonger rules?”

“Gary—” Mandy started to say.

“President Omega was a bad person,” Amanda said. “Also, the United States wasn’t exactly in a great position after the conflict. Most of the federal government had been killed, massive sanctions had been imposed, and the number of dead Supers left the world badly off. Other Gary claimed to have given up crime and was the hero the country could rally around after Ultragod’s death.”

I gasped in horror. “I’m considered a superhero now!?”

“Uh, sorry?” Amanda said, confused that my superhero status was bothering me.

“How the hell did anyone confuse Other Gary with me?” I asked. “He’s like twenty years older.”

“Centuries, actually,” Mandy said.

“People are stupid,” Amanda said, shrugging. “I think he claimed he’d prematurely aged because of all the power he’d expended saving the world.”

“Ah, the Palpatine defense,” I muttered. “Now, last bit . . . First Citizen?”

Amanda looked uncomfortably at the city. “After President Omega’s actions, the United States demanded someone take charge and prove things could change. Other Gary proposed the major cities be governed by superheroes to keep things honest. As a member of the Society of Superheroes, Other Gary controls Falconcrest City until power can be returned to the people.”

I stared at her. “Holy shit.”

“Dear god,” Cloak said.

“Does no one fucking learn from history!?” Mandy said, feeling her head. “You’re telling me the United States dealt with a dictator coming to power by demanding another one?”

Amanda looked disgusted. “I’m pretty sure Other Gary rigged the elections and had access to all of Omega’s mind-control technology to boot—if he wasn’t the one who provided it in the first place—but the United States is now a superherocracy.”

I took a deep breath. “Gabrielle never would have tolerated that. What happened to her?”

“I don’t know,” Amanda said. “I found you and her but not the others.”

I closed my eyes.

“The Society of Superheroes would never do this,” Cloak said, appalled. “They are better than this.”

“You mean the same Society of Superheroes that sided with President Omega on every decision right up until he tried to kill them?” I asked, disgusted. “The same society that locked me up on the moon without trial? The same society that believed Ultradevil over Ultragoddess when she said her father had been replaced?”

“Yes,” Cloak said. “They are still better than this. I mean, you were guilty as sin when they locked you up, but what they did to you was still wrong.”

I sighed. “Maybe they are, or maybe the death of the Nightwalker and Ultragod leaves only Guinevere, Aquarius, and the Prismatic Commando in charge. Two absolute monarchs and a guy who answers to a galactic peace agency run by alien gods.”

“There’s always the Silver Medalist,” Mandy said.

“He retired,” Amanda said. “He refused to have anything to do with the new order. That didn’t stop the younger members from believing they should take over, though. Other Gary is very persuasive.”

“God dammit,” I muttered. “So, you’re like, what, the plucky resistance?”

“Of sorts,” Amanda muttered. “I won’t lie to you, things haven’t exactly been conducive to getting much traction against your doppelgänger. People . . . are happy.”

“Happy being under a dictatorship?” I asked.

“Those who surrender freedom for security will not have, nor do they deserve, either one,” Amanda quoted Benjamin Franklin. “That doesn’t keep people from making that trade all the time. Supervillains are spirited away to Other Gary’s prisons and are usually never seen again. When they are, they are completely rehabilitated. He’s also found ways of removing superpowers from people and giving them to others. The U.S. government and its allies now have dozens of Omega Corp-produced super teams that all consider Other Gary their personal Santa.”

“Technology from the future,” I muttered. “Damn, I’m a genius.”

Mandy glared at me.

“An evil, evil good-guy genius!” I said. “So where is the rest of the resistance? You know, Mandy’s army to take over and lead to overthrowing this asshole?”

Amanda looked over her shoulder. “Uh—”

“You are the resistance,” I muttered, guessing that was why she’d gone to such desperate measures.

Amanda closed her eyes. “The Foundation for World Harmony rounded up all of my friends and either killed them or turned them over to Other Gary for brainwashing. Some of them were probably in that town. I’m the only one left. There may still be other groups, but he’s been efficient about keeping us all divided. No one knows who to trust.”

“Well,” I said, taking a deep breath. “That just means we’ll have to start small and work our way up.”

“No,” Mandy said, looking at the city and then back at us.

“No?” Amanda said, her voice raising an octave. “What do you mean no?”

Mandy looked at her sympathetically. “You can’t force freedom onto people, Amanda. If most people support Other Gary, that’s democracy in action even if it’s stupid.”

“Are you serious?” Amanda asked, horrified. “You want to leave him in charge?”

Mandy crossed her arms. “No, he’s killed billions of people in the future and is responsible for the death of millions. I’ve led two revolutions against him and President Omega, so I know they don’t work. We need to find out where he lives, drag him out, and then pull his skull out from his head.”

“I like that use of imagery,” I said, nodding. “However, it may be a bit more complicated than that.”

“We’ve tried to kill him dozens of ways,” Amanda said. “He always gets better.”

“Which is the thing that is more complicated,” I said. “Apparently, being the Chosen of Life makes him damn near immortal.”

Amanda asked a very pertinent question. “Can’t you kill him as the Chosen of Death?”

“Apparently not,” I muttered, thinking about how I’d thrown everything I had at my doppelgänger only for him to survive. “I can slow him down, but I don’t know how to eliminate Other Gary.”

“We could ask Death,” Cloak said. “Not that I recommend that as a matter of course.”

“If she didn’t rescue me in five years, I don’t think she’s responding to my summons,” I said. “In fact, Death, could you help here?”

Nothing happened.

“That was very risky,” Cloak said.

“Only if she answered,” I said.

“Finish Other Gary off and you’ll be back in my good graces, Gary.” A voice very much like Mandy’s spoke in the wind that washed over us. “I have quite the backlog of souls for you to deal with.”

Mandy and Amanda looked up to the sky.

“OK, that was terrifying,” Amanda said.

“Is anyone else bothered she sounds like me?” Mandy said, covering her face from the sunlight.

“Extremely,” I said, frowning. “Honestly, I think she’s a little sweet on me.”

Mandy looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”

“So where is my antithesis? You know, the superhero who is really evil to my supervillain who is . . . well, not really good but not at all that terrible,” I said.

“It doesn’t matter since we can’t kill him,” Amanda said.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t incapacitate him,” I pointed out. “I’m all for sending Other Gary to the Mirror Zone, shooting him on a rocket into space, freezing him like in Jason X, or dumping him into the bottom of the sea. We could also turn him to stone since I have a few medusas’ phone numbers. Is it a permanent solution? No, but it sure as hell won’t be pleasant for him.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” Amanda said. “Despite the whole Nightgirl thing. I’m thirty, for godsakes.”

“You’ll always be Merci-Lass to me,” I said, smiling. “So, where’s his tower? I assume it’s a tower. I wouldn’t settle for a mere mansion or palace.”

Amanda pointed to the center of Falconcrest City where a gigantic M-shaped building towered over all the others. It was made of crystal and shined with all the light of the city like an inverted Bara-Dur.

“I’d say he was compensating for something, but I’d be insulting myself,” I said.

Mandy snorted at that.

Amanda looked embarrassed.

“So, who is up for wrecking this guy’s shit?” I said, giving two thumbs up.

Chapter Five

OUR BRILLIANT PLAN TO ATTACK OTHER GARY DIRECTLY

We broke into a Ultramart outside of Falconcrest City and picked up new sets of clothes. I wore a red hoodie with a white M on the side, which was part of the official Merciless™ merchandise line Other Gary was making millions off of, and jeans with plain white sneakers. Amanda changed into a white summer dress and sunglasses. Mandy, by contrast, chose to wear the decidedly attention-getting outfit of leather pants and a corset from the goth aisle.

As the trio of us walked down the clean sidewalks of downtown Falconcrest City, I noticed she got the clear majority of attention from passersby. Not that I blamed them.

“Isn’t the point of this exercise to not be noticed?” I asked, leaning over.

Mandy shrugged. “I’ve been stuck wearing a floral print dress for five years. Besides, no one’s looking at my face.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m more worried about the cameras.”

Downtown had changed, in many ways for the better—just not for people like me. Gone were the bars, porn theaters, gun shops, pawn shops, and hundreds of homeless, replaced by cafes, boutiques, bakeries, and tourists. Everyone was dressed in high-quality clothes while robot cops were on every corner, scanning people. Drones flew over every few minutes and I saw security cameras everywhere.

“We should be unrecognizable,” Amanda said, looking over her shoulder. “The central computer system, S.A.F.E.T.Y, is not that difficult to hack in to if you know the right people. I’ve also got a personal jammer, which should keep us from being recorded. Even so, my safeguards are never good for more than a week.”

“We only need an hour more,” I said, looking to the corner that led to the Merciful Building. “Did he actually knock down the Nightwalker’s Clock Tower to build this place?”

“I’m afraid so,” Amanda said, sounding as disgusted as I felt. The Clock Tower had been a staple of Falconcrest City’s skyline. “He wanted to get rid of all the Brotherhood of Infamy’s occult beacons. The thing is, that may have made the city less of a supernatural hotspot, but it’s also been replaced by machines designed to create a low-level emotion spell on everyone.”

“Let me guess,” I said, looking at the cheerful look everyone was sporting in what was formerly the most cynical city on Earth. “Happiness. The entire town is on magical Prozac.”

“No, it’s on literal Prozac,” Amanda said. “He drugs the water too.”

“Great,” I muttered.

Amanda wasn’t done yet. “As for what the spell induces, it’s not happiness, but obedience. Tap the side of your sunglasses.”

Not sure I wanted to see just what the glasses would reveal, I did so. The world became black and white and the billboards sported subliminal messages. There was OBEY MERCIFUL, YOU ARE HAPPY, DO NOT QUESTION AUTHORITY, and MERCIFUL MAKES AMERICA GREAT.

I frowned. “OK, when the hell did Merciful even find time to watch They Live, much less rip it off?”

“They what?” Amanda asked.

I tapped my sunglasses to turn off the effect. “All I’m saying is we may need to call Keith David and Roddy Piper in on this.”

“Why is Merciful doing this, anyway?” Mandy asked, trying to stay on topic.

“Because he’s an extremist jerkass?” I said, noticing that several onlookers cast us dirty looks. “You saw what he did to us in Undertown. He’s turned Falconcrest City into a prison just like the one we were kept in. It’s just Undertown was a Super-Max and this is minimum security. Eventually, the whole world will be like the Village.”

“The what?” Amanda asked.

“Remember what I said about speaking exclusively in pop culture references?” Cloak said. “This is why.”

“It’s not my fault she has no appreciation for classic sixties spy fiction,” I muttered. “You know, I always believed Number Six was actually a brainwashed Number One who was field-testing his own process.”

Mandy shook her head. “No, I mean, isn’t your doppelgänger trying to make his own universe? Why all this?”

“It’s called Motive Decay,” I said, citing the storytelling trope. “Basically, you have a villain like Sauron who wants to bring order to the world, except he ends up with Morgoth and suddenly he’s a werewolf-drowning Numenor. None of which ended up in the movies, to my disappointment.”

“Or you thwarted Other Gary’s original plan and he’s just making do with this world until he can figure a way to salvage it,” Amanda suggested.

“That’s possible too,” I said. “Making an entire universe requires a huge chunk of necromantic energy, and if I were Other Gary, I’d have this entire place draining away little bits of life force every day so I could continue my plan in secret.”

Amanda and Mandy stared at me.

“Oh, what’s the likelihood of that happening?” I said, looking up at the skyscrapers and noticing they were sporting strange-looking antenna.

“About 100%,” Cloak muttered. “But it doesn’t matter since you’re going to kill him.”

“Are you OK with that?” I asked. “Superheroes don’t historically kill people, though they don’t usually take over the United States either. I know you avoided killing anyone while you were still alive.”

“That’s not strictly true, as I killed members of the Nazi Party and Imperial Japanese during World War Two. I’ve also been forced to kill alien invaders as well as sentient machines,” Cloak said, sounding regretful. “I hold human life and the lives of other species sacred, but that doesn’t mean I am willing to let others die to satisfy the strictures of an absolute moral code. Other Gary has murdered literally billions of people and is an existential threat to humanity. I have no doubt he has the means of destroying the earth—and he would—should it become necessary to restore his world. He’s also corrupted the Society of Superheroes.”

I stopped by a newspaper stand, which was just giving away newspapers and magazines published by the city government. One of the headlines was FORTY-ONE DAYS WITHOUT WAR, with the subheading SOCIETY OF SUPERHEROES CONTINUES KEEPING THE WORLD SAFE.

“They do seem to be keeping the trains running on time, though,” I said, shaking my head. “Or zeppelins, in this case.”

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, but they do not outweigh the needs of the one because the many are each individual,” Cloak said. “I said that to Leonard Nimoy once. I think he suggested it to a writer.”

I wasn’t paying attention to Cloak at that point. Instead, I was staring upward at Merciless Tower. We’d finally arrived, and the sight of it was both breathtaking and horrifying. The building had indeed replaced the Falconcrest City Clock Tower, but that wasn’t the part that surprised me.

Instead, the thing truly was made of crystal and shined with all the light in Falconcrest City. It was also a living sun of magic. Standing almost a mile tall, it was the largest building I’d ever seen. It pulsated with supernatural might above even the gods I’d encountered.

The magic was beneath the surface of the crystal, compromising it, but I could feel it. It was like someone had concentrated all the magic in the world into a single location and covered it up in plastic wrap. Other Gary had hidden the life force of the billions he’d killed in plain sight, in his skyscraper headquarters.

“What the hell is that?” Mandy asked, staring.

“Wrong direction,” I said, recognizing it from the books I’d read while researching a way to restore Mandy’s soul. “Heavenly crystal. Other Gary actually went to the Land Upstairs for the material needed to store his magic.”

“Who let him in, I wonder,” Amanda muttered, also staring.

“Life,” I said, shrugging. “If Death is on my side, it makes sense Life’s on his.”

“Please don’t make me doubt which side I’m on,” Amanda said.

“You mean because the Society of Superheroes, the majority of the population, and the Primal possibly in charge of Heaven are all behind Other Gary?” I asked. “I can’t imagine why you’d think we could be the bad guys in all this.”

The look Amanda gave me could have killed trees.

“Good and evil aren’t absolutes, even in a world of black and white capes,” Mandy said, sighing. “I’ve wanted to help people my entire life, but the bad guys are people and the heroes are flawed. It’s why you have to focus on being true to your own code rather than society’s labels.”

“If I could make a ‘The More You Know’ rainbow to go with that, I would,” I said, gently mocking Mandy’s statement. “For once, I’m going to disagree with you. I may be bad, but Other Gary is evil. He allied with a Nazi, and that’s just an automatic ‘game over’ for me.”

“Technically, he just made use of President Omega,” Cloak said, sounding generally angry. I suspected it was more over the Society of Superheroes assisting Other Gary than anything he’d done to the president, though. “He betrayed him multiple times and did nothing to save him.”

“Don’t muddy the issue, Cloak,” I said, staring back up at the tower. “So, this complicates things.”

“Oh?” Mandy said, covering her eyes as she tried to look at everything. “How so?”

I was little more than a hedge wizard, equivalent to a mage who had a community college education in the subject. OK, more like a GED, but still enough to know just how much juice was inside this thing.

“Well . . . “ I tried to think of a way to describe it. “If Other Gary has access to all of this mojo, then he can’t properly create a new universe.”

“I’m sensing a but here,” Amanda said.

“He can probably do just about anything else,” I muttered, wondering at my doppelgänger’s self-control. “If I had this place, I could have restored Mandy’s soul. Hell, he could probably resurrect all of his family and friends in an instant.”

“Then why doesn’t he?” Mandy asked.

I thought about what I would do in Other Gary’s place. I couldn’t imagine losing everyone I’d ever known or ever loved, but I’d lost Mandy and it had driven me insane. I could imagine falling to the desperate lengths Other Gary had to save my loved ones, but I couldn’t ever imagine facing them again after that. Maybe Other Gary needed to bring back his other universe so he could hide his crimes from his loved ones forever. Bringing them back to this world would mean that he’d eventually be discovered. Which lowered my opinion of my doppelgänger. A true villain owns up to his dirty deeds.

“Your morality makes no sense at all,” Cloak observed. “I just want you to know that.”

“No argument from me. I’m Team Chaotic Neutral. The old-school kind that made no sense and was just there to make sure there were nine alignments. Listen, guys, if we go into that skyscraper, Other Gary will be able to do anything he wants to us. It’ll be like trying to fight Q from Star Trek while not being Benjamin Sisko.”

“So, we just leave?” Amanda asked, blinking as she tried to process all of what I was saying.

Mandy answered for me. “No, I think this might be the best place on Earth to fight Other Gary.”

“Eh?” I asked. Being right in front of the building where my doppelgänger r controlled his micro-empire was making me feel uncomfortably exposed. We were in the middle of Falconcrest City Square with a jumbotron showing nothing but good news. There were also a lot of robotic police. Cyborgs too. Technology had changed in my five-year absence.

“Can we destroy the building? Let all the energy loose?” Mandy asked.

“No,” I said, remembering what the Spellipedia article on heavenly crystal said. “The stuff is tougher than Ultranium and can only be warped by magic. Second, if we did release all that energy at once, it would annihilate a few galaxies. Starting with ours.”

“Maybe we can block him from accessing it,” Amanda said. “I mean, we can’t access . . .”

She trailed off. Mandy and Amanda stared at me.

“What?” I said.

“Oh no,” Cloak muttered. “Please tell me you can’t access the magic inside.”

I raised an eyebrow, considering the possibility, then reached out to mentally touch the energy inside. I could.

Then I laughed. A proper supervillain laugh. “Bwahahahahahahahaha.”

“Smoke him now,” Mandy said, reaching over and putting her hand on my shoulder. “End this two-hundred-year nightmare. Then we can go back to being Mandy and Gary, Oddest Couple of Them All™.”

I smiled. “We have to get to the epicenter first, but yes, I’d like that. This place is in serious need of a criminal element.”

“Please don’t say that in front of me,” Amanda muttered. “I’m unhappy with assassination as a means of societal change as it is.”

I had to admit my admiration of Amanda. She’d been through the wringer as a superhero. Her mother had been sacrificed to an evil god by her father, and she’d watched Falconcrest City turn from a wretched hive to a zombie-ridden necropolis to the Brave New World theme park version of itself it currently was. The fact that she was still standing here, having outlived her mentor Sunlight and her fellow resistance fighters, made me realize she wasn’t Nightgirl or Merci-Lass. She was Nightwoman.

“I’m very proud of you, Amanda,” I said, trying to bond with the one uncorrupted hero in Falconcrest City.

“Your approval fills me with shame,” Amanda said. “So, you can protect us if we go in?”

“I think so,” I said. “If not, then he’ll just erase us from existence.”

“Good enough for me,” Amanda said.

Her determination made me pause. “Who was he . . . or she?”

Amanda didn’t move for a second. “Wyatt Jones. He was my mechanic and partner as Nightgirl. Other Gary didn’t brainwash him. He just used his Life powers to make his insides grow until he died horribly.”

I had no comforting words for her. If I argued that vengeance was hollow, I’d be a hypocrite, because the only satisfaction I had about my brother’s death was that his killer hadn’t lived long after. It didn’t end the pain of your loss, but it gave you the satisfaction of knowing your enemy wasn’t enjoying life.

“Let’s go get him,” I said, walking toward the front entrance. “Let’s go lobby scene from The Matrix on these assholes.”

Chapter Six

WHERE THINGS GO PEAR-SHAPED (OF COURSE)

The lobby of the Merciful Building was a grandiose monument to what a colossal egomaniac my doppelgänger was. It resembled the interior of an Ancient Greek temple with a three-story-high interior, ionic columns, and a huge statue of Merciful in bronze holding the world in his palm. At the bottom of the statue was the phrase, “If there was no God, it would be necessary to invent him” by Voltaire (the satirist, not the band). Except it was in Latin, so most people would have no idea what it said. That right there summarized everything you needed to know about Other Gary.

The first story of the place was a bank owned and operated by the Omega Corporation. Amanda had filled me in on how Other Gary was controlling the city, and one of the primary ways was through debt. Americans, God bless us, love spending more money than they make. Other Gary had adopted the People’s Republic of China’s approach, giving people wide latitudes to drown themselves in debt before forgiving it or helping to pay it off. It allowed him to have the entire city by its balls while simultaneously being a much-beloved figure.

“We are not doing The Matrix lobby scene here,” Amanda walked up close behind me and hissed. “These are innocent people.”

“Innocent-ish,” I corrected. “They’re still bankers. Even so, I don’t kill innocent people. Just fellow supervillains, anti-hero superheroes, ridiculously lawful superheroes, thugs, people trying to kill me, politicians, mercenaries, dirty cops—”

“Is this list almost over?” Mandy asked.

“Not even close,” I said. “Terrorists, human traffickers, eco-polluters who have killed people with their negligence, Nazis, Anti-Semites in general, Soviet communists, pedophiles, and a pimp named Goldtooth whom I really didn’t like.”

“How do you know a pimp?” Mandy asked, suspicious.

“Cindy,” I said.

“Ah,” Mandy said. “Say no more.”

I continued. “Alien invaders, corrupt corporate executives—”

Amanda kicked me in the shin.

“Ow!” I said, grabbing my leg. “Not cool. Mandy, would you do the honors?”

“With pleasure,” Mandy said, a devilish gleam in her eye. She conjured a pair of revolvers from the shadows, a power I didn’t know she had, and started shooting them in the air. “All right, this is not a bank robbery, but everyone get on the ground anyway!”

I tried not to think of how Mandy had changed. Although I’d been living with the “new” her for almost five years now, she was not the Mandy I’d married. With two hundred extra years of knowledge, she was as far from the woman I’d known as someone I met for the first time off the street—who was a vampire.

It didn’t help that she wanted me to act like the person I’d become in the previous iterations of the timeline. Other Gary had given Vampire Mandy back her soul, but it was in many ways just another example of someone who wasn’t quite whom I wanted.

“You should talk to Mandy about this,” Cloak said. “It would be a shame to lose everything you’ve fought so hard to achieve.”

“It’s not like we’ve had time,” I said.

Indeed, since I’d become a supervillain, it had been a complete stop to our relationship. Either I was in prison, she was dead, she was undead, or we were both in prison. If there was something akin to God’s judgment in the physical world, I was reaping what I’d sown for becoming a supervillain. It was a disturbing thought.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to think about it long, because chaos had broken out inside the bank. Security officers, robot and otherwise, pulled out laser cannons to gun Mandy down only for them to be electrocuted by Amanda or frozen by me. Customers attempted to flee even as I froze over the doorways. Several bank tellers went for the alarm system. Really, this was a lot less smooth a job than the previous bank jobs I’d pulled.

“This isn’t a bank job,” Cloak said.

“It is,” I said. “After a fashion. We just need to secure the basement and then take the elevators up. Presumably, like all proper antagonists, he’s in the penthouse. I’ll use the power I’ve got here to protect us. We kill him, game over. We win.”

One of the security guards charged at me with an electrified truncheon. I could have incinerated him, but instead I just stepped out of the way before kicking him in the back of the knee and grabbing his arm. I jabbed his truncheon into his neck and shocked him into unconsciousness.

Falconcrest City’s guards had improved, but not by much. Unfortunately, any further thoughts I might have had on the subject disappeared with the sound of alarms blaring. Either we hadn’t stopped the bank tellers from activating the alarms, or the people watching us with security cameras had done so. The front doors were sealed off with transparent steel barriers and a sickly white gas started pouring from the air vents.

“No!” one of the tellers screamed before she started choking, along with the rest of the people around us.

“We’re loyal!” another guard shouted before wheezing on the ground. “I have children!”

Amanda tossed a gas mask to me and one to Mandy. They looked like they were capable of being folded up, and I wondered just what she could store in her magic cloak. Unwilling to join the rest of the people dying on the ground, I put mine on. I tapped the power of the tower and conjured a bunch of gas masks to give them to the locals. I tried to teleport us up to the top floor, but my knowledge of sorcery was limited enough that I straight up failed to do so. That wasn’t a good sign for confronting Other Gary, who’d had years of practice with this.

“I can show you how to use this sort of magic,” Cloak said.

“You can?” I asked.

“Yes, I was a necromancer before I became a superhero,” Cloak reminded me. “Still, it will take time, as using that kind of magic untrained is dangerous.”

“Really? Because I thought it was just like learning my ABCs,” I muttered.

“I’d say sarcasm doesn’t suit you but I believe that ship has sailed.”

Less than a minute later, the room was absolutely filled with white toxic gas, and anyone who hadn’t slipped on their mask was dead. Other Gary, despite how nice he’d made the city, clearly didn’t care about collateral damage in the pursuit of his goals. I shouldn’t have been surprised, as the population of Undertown had included his minions as well as the staff dedicated to maintaining it, and that hadn’t stopped him from blowing them all up.

“There’s nothing for us down here,” Amanda said, her voice altered by the gas mask on her face. “We need to get to the elevators.”

A cheesy patriotic tune started playing on the intercom before a white movie screen lowered in front of Merciful’s statue. A pair of spotlights rose from the ground in front of it and a film projector lowered itself in front of the doors. The projector then produced an image of Merciful on the screen. He was sitting behind a desk with a window overlooking the city, noticeably not the one he’d have from the Merciful Building.

“This city is an idealized state,” Other Gary said, staring at me from the black and white video feed. It was deliberately grainy, a stylistic choice that made me think my doppelgänger had a weird sense of the dramatic. “A creation born from my desire to rebuild the world I’ve lost. Unlike other failed utopias, though, I leave nothing to chance. Everything is controlled by me and service is rewarded. The public is provided bread and circuses while all dissent is drowned out in the noise of propaganda. The people thrive because they don’t care about challenging the status quo. Indeed, they love hating those who don’t toe the line.”

“For a superhero, you’re doing a supervillainous monologue,” I said, disgusted with my doppelgänger.

“There is a price for peace. That price is freedom.” Other Gary looked down at Amanda. “Your Society of Superhero friends agreed. Although I phrased it far more delicately.”

“Screw you, you sick murdering bastard!” Amanda said. “You killed my friends!”

Other Gary wagged his pointer finger at her. “Tut-tut-tut, Amanda, language. You can still turn back. I am the master of life and death. I can restore your loved ones to you, or at least a semblance of them. You can have your fortune back as well. Like Caesar, I know the value of pardoning my enemies.”

“The people Julius Caesar pardoned murdered him, dipshit,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Gary.” Mandy stared over at me. “You’re not helping.”

“Gary is just demonstrating the difference between us,” Other Gary said. “How this world and all of its evils have warped him. How he’s been turned from a figure who could be productive to society into a brutal, vengeance-driven killer unable to accept paradise.”

“Name one thing you’ve given these people after making yourself high dingy doo,” I snapped.

“I’ve cured cancer,” Other Gary said.

I blinked. “Really?”

I thought of my father. He’d lived to a ripe old age of his seventies, only to pass away due to “natural causes.” Fuck natural causes.

“Oh yes.” Other Gary nodded. “It’s amazing the kind of miracles I’ve been able to achieve once I began reconditioning the supervillains who entered the legal system and reverse-engineering their technology. The best scientists are mad scientists after all. Throw in making use of supers’ powers as alternatives to traditional machine-based technologies, and you have the beginnings of a greener, better world.”

“Do people know this greener, better world came at the hands of your alliance with President Omega?” I asked. “I’m guessing no, Saruman.”

“I thought President Omega was Saruman?” Cloak asked.

“Shut up, I’m five years behind in references,” I muttered. “They could have made The Silmarillion into a Peter Jackson trilogy by now. God, did you see how he screwed up The Hobbit? Any book adaptation should be whimsical!”

“Come down here and fight us like a man, you piece of crap!” Amanda growled, balling her fists.

“A very strange statement since it’s the women in your Gary’s life who are the dangerous ones,” Other Gary said, smiling with just a hint of sadness. “I’m not a fighter, but a trickster. Here, let me show you.”

Other Gary reached over and pressed a button on the table in front of him before the feed cut.

“We need to get to the penthouse!” Amanda hissed. “He’s going to get away!”

“He’s not here,” I replied, growling. “That’s from across town.”

“I can, however, access my power well here,” Other Gary said. “I’ve had years to master its intricacies and you’ve had a few minutes.”

That was when I felt a ripple of energy pass through the room.

“Ah crap,” I said.

Behind us, barely visible in the fog, I felt a teleportation spell go off. As I mentioned, I was strictly low-key when it came to the intricacies of sorcery, but I recognized the essence of it. Other Gary had decided to bring in reinforcements, and we were screwed. Turning around, I saw who he’d brought and decided “screwed” was an understatement.

I recognized three of them out of hand. They were members of the Extreme, although differently costumed. There was Captain Disaster, a hulking white-haired cyborg I’d killed twice before, now costumed in the attire of a general. Beside him was Ninjess, who’d traded in her somewhat skanky nineties-era thong costume for a more demure one-piece white bathing suit and mask that made her look like Kitana from Mortal Kombat. Standing behind them was Iron Cross, a metal-armored war machine that had shifted from Nazi red and black to red, white, and blue. There were a half-dozen identical square-headed robots accompanying them that I recognized as Mechanko, the rogue A.I. who generally worked for whichever fascist paid the most.

The Extreme were super-heroes the way sewage was drinkable. Yes, it was technically so, but just thinking about it made me sick. Captain Disaster had sided with President Omega because he’d bought fully into what he believed was the man’s ideology of normal human supremacy. Seeing him working for Other Gary made me wonder if he was brainwashed or if his principles changed depending on who was signing his paycheck. Extremists could change ideologies on a dime since they tended not to be the most stable people in the world to begin with.

There were two new members of the team, though, who didn’t look like anyone I’d seen before. The first one was a ridiculously cute Eurasian woman in her twenties with a sci-fi bob and a lithe swimmer’s build. She wore the miniskirt, boots, and cape combo that Gabrielle had popularized a decade ago. There was something curiously familiar about her features that put me on edge, almost as if she resembled someone I knew. The second was a figure all in black who looked like someone had poured ink on him, only for the ink to come alive.

“Gary Karkofsky, the real one,” Captain Disaster said, chuckling. “I’ve been looking forward to a rematch for a long time.”

“Five years, in fact, give or take a couple of weeks,” I said, not remotely intimidated by his presence despite the fact that he had a huge laser rifle on his back. “Amanda, who are the newcomers?”

Amanda hesitated. “Those are Starlight Maiden and Shadowman. They’re bioroids Gary created from his tissue and his dead wife’s.”

I stopped dead. “What?”

Mandy stared at them in horror. “He made a fake family for himself?”

Starlight Maiden, whom I now recognized as resembling Mandy, stepped forward and balled her fists. “We are not fake! Our father made us to protect his city.”

“We are superior to humanity in every way.” Shadowman’s voice dripped with venom. Literally, there was venom dripping out of his mouth.

I tried to hide my disgust. “OK, Pinocchio, I get it. You’re a real girl. So is your brother. That doesn’t mean your father is not a complete asshole.”

“Excuse me,” Captain Disaster snapped. “We’re having a discussion.”

I shook my head. “No, we aren’t, General Disaster. Which is annoying because that’s your apparent rank now. I can’t even make a joke about it. You’re not my archenemies. You’re a bunch of idiots who show up to ruin my day occasionally.”

“The Team Rocket of my life,” Amanda suggested.

“Not a Pokémon fan, but go for it,” I said. “I’m also nearly all-powerful in this place, so I don’t know what Other Gary was thinking sending you here.”

“No, you’re not,” Starlight Maiden said. “I know how my father’s towers work, and they require decades of study to use.”

Ah crap.

“We’re going to bring you in,” Starlight Maiden said, striking a heroic pose as her cape fluttered in a nonexistent wind. “Then the people of Falconcrest City will know its heroes are on the job!”

Oh brother.

“Father said we needed to keep Merciless alive,” Shadowman said, his voice a low growl. “Also, Mandy Karkofsky. That means we can kill Nightwoman.”

“You heard the boy,” Captain Disaster said, pulling out his laser rifle. “Let’s pay them back for killing us.”

“With pleasure,” Ninjess said, conjuring two glowing electrical fans.

Iron Cross charged up his laser gauntlets. “I’m not racist, but I’m really going to enjoy killing that Jewish guy and the Asian girls.”

That was when the ground between us exploded as an apartment-sized drilling machine rose up through. The thing was a single metal tube with a buzzing series of saws surrounding the conical drill in the center. There was a hatch on the side of the tube that popped up to reveal Cindy, Diabloman, and a black man in a trench coat and fedora with a domino mask.

“All right, this is a robbery!” Cindy shouted, firing a laser pistol in the air.

Huh, that was unexpected.

Chapter Seven

WHERE THE GANG REUNITES LIKE IN RETURN OF THE JEDI

I stared at the sight of my friends and was nearly knocked down by their presence. I hadn’t expected to see any of them ever again—had given up hope, really—so it was like a bucket of cold water. I loved each of them—well, Diabloman and Cindy. I didn’t know who the other guy was.

“Cindy?” I said, walking forward in disbelief.

“Gary!” Mandy said behind me.

“What?” I said, turning around and thus barely avoiding being shot by Cindy’s laser pistol. Spinning around, I spread out my arms. “What the hell! Black cloak! Not white cloak! Gary, not Other Gary!”

“Madre de diablo!” Diabloman said, staring at me. “Could it be true?”

“It’s a trick!” Cindy hissed, the gun aimed at me. “Other Gary has no sense of shame!”

Starlight Maiden looked over at her brother Shadowman before turning back to us. “Uh, excuse me, but you’re all under arrest. Because you’re bad and chaotic.”

“Arrest?” Captain Disaster said. “Oh, that’s just adorable, Mindy.”

“Mindy?” I said, my mouth hanging open. “My doppelgänger named his daughter Mindy? What’s his son’s name? Dare Ablo?”

“Gabriel,” Shadowman said. “My name is Gabriel, defacer of my father’s name!”

I completely ignored his anger. “He named you both after my ex-girlfriend and wife? What the hell is wrong with that guy?”

“He’s a nastier version of you?” Amanda said.

“Ouch. That was cold Amanda. Cold.”

“Gary, focus,” Mandy said. “Also, Mindy is an adorable name.”

“Ma’am,” Captain Disaster said to Starlight Maiden. Somehow, he’d picked up a Southern accent he hadn’t possessed before. “We should really get to executing these evil-doers.”

Starlight Maiden seemed unsure, though. It seemed like she wasn’t quite able to order an attack on someone who looked exactly like her father. Of course, given she was an android, it was entirely possible she had programming that prevented that as well. Wait, was that racist? Was I robophobic?

Probably not a topic to focus on now.

“Tell us something only the Real Gary would know!” Cindy shouted, ignoring the others. I could see just how desperate she was to believe I was me.

“Your mother was an abusive alcoholic, while your father was never around.”

“Everyone knows that!” Cindy snapped.

“We promised, however, we would get out of this place if it was the last thing ever did.” I looked around the bank. “It looks like both of us failed.”

Cindy frowned, clearly not certain.

“Do you remember what I said to you when you came to me crying on my wedding day?” I looked at her. “Because I do, and I think it’s something you’ve taken to heart, and that makes me happy.”

“You are worth more than you think,” Cindy said, her voice ready to break. “Gary, is that really you? Mandy?”

“In the flesh,” Mandy said, giving a half-smile. “The cold, hard, marble-esque flesh. At least I get horribly sunburned in daytime versus sparkling.”

“Dated joke, Mandy,” Amanda said, chuckling. “The current vampire trends are they’re all flying rappers.”

“That’s both monstrous as well as intriguing,” Mandy said. “Did they make a Straight Outta Fangton movie?”

“Three,” Amanda said.

“We’ve missed you guys so much—” I started to say.

“Shut up and die!” Captain Disaster shouted before pulling out a grenade and hurling it.

“No!” Starlight Maiden shouted, grabbing the grenade with a Ultraforce catcher’s mitt and suppressing the explosion. “There are innocents present!”

“Casualties of war!” Shadowman shouted, charging forward as the rest of the Extreme followed suit. “Kill them for Father!”

“No, we should arrest them!” Starlight Maiden said. “Why am I always the one to have to say that?”

“Because you’re an idiot!” Shadowman hissed.

Yeah, that nicely summarized the twins’ personalities. There was the good one and the bad one. Too bad I’d have to kill them both.

Shadowman interrupted my thoughts by slamming into me. He then smashed me into the bank’s statue of Other Gary. He moved like lightning and hit like a train. The hideous tendrils on his inky-black uniform stretched out before producing toothy maws. It was like being grabbed by a humanoid-shaped shoggoth.

That was when one of the monstrous mouths bit down on my shoulders, arms, and legs. It was like getting six dog bites at once.

“Shit! Fuck! Ow!” I said. “That hurts!”

“That’s the point,” the Shadowman shouted. “Die!”

Growling in pain, I generated a wave of flame around myself, causing Shadowman to jump backward before I generated a block of ice around my fist and smashed it against his face.

“My father will remake the world!” Shadowman hissed, his jaw looking busted before it sloshed back into place.

“You’ve got daddy issues,” I said, amused. “Seriously, be your own man.”

“I’m going to pay you back for killing me,” Captain Disaster screamed, aiming his cannon at me. I immediately grabbed Shadowman by his tendrils then used him as a shield. The blast caused Shadowman to scream and Captain Disaster to look horrified.

Mostly because Captain Disaster’s head promptly exploded.

My eyes widened.

“The Extreme are not allowed to attack the First Family,” Shadowman chuckled nightmarishly as he regenerated from the blast. “That tickled.”

I proceeded to hurl Shadowman across the room into the way of one of Iron Cross’s blasts, causing him to explode.

“That’s cheating!” Shadowman said, sloshing into a puddle on the ground with multiple mouths.

“First, eww,” I said. “Second, please let any child of mine never be this lame.”

Cindy looked over at me, using what appeared to be a double-bladed lightsaber to block Ninjess’s attacks. “Gary, we need to talk.”

“Fighting first!” I said, turning insubstantial right before Starlight Maiden flew through me. She’d been preparing to deliver a huge Ultra-Force punch, which would have knocked my block off, but she apparently couldn’t use it in multiple manners simultaneously. That meant she was less powerful than Gabrielle, thank God.

“Murderer!” Starlight Maiden screamed. “Those were heroes you killed! Sort of!”

“Lady, they’ll be back,” I said, shaking my head. “Also, they’re assholes.”

I promptly blasted her with ice only for her to ignore it and start walking back toward me, her hands glowing. “The First Family are the defenders of Falconcrest City against all threats. That includes imposters of our father who want to bring chaos and anarchy to our home.”

“Well, that’s true,” I said, throwing fire at her and watching it bounce off too. “But I don’t think your brother agrees.”

“Do not insult Gabriel!” Starlight Maiden said, lifting me up by my cloak lapel and pulling her fist back. “He is a good man.”

“I will rip your skull out!” Shadowman shouted. “Then your wife, then your girlfriend, and then your friends!”

Starlight Maiden grimaced, only to start shaking violently as if struck by a bolt of lightning. I turned insubstantial and passed through her hand before a second and third bolt of electricity struck her. That was when I saw Amanda behind her, using her Death-granted powers. They weren’t working against her.

Starlight Maiden laughed. “It will take more than that to put me down, terrorist.”

I drained a bit of energy from the building around me, then waved my hand in front of her face. “These aren’t the heroes you’re looking for.”

“These aren’t the heroes I’m looking for,” Starlight Maiden said, glassy-eyed. “Wait, that’s from Star Wars! I think! My father won’t let me watch it. He says it’s too violent.”

“Just when I thought I couldn’t hate Other Gary more,” I muttered.

Amanda used that opportunity to hit her with two more bolts of lightning, then punched her into the bank teller booths.

“Dammit,” I said, looking at my hand. “I should have used more juice. Rey made that seem so easy in The Force Awakens. Wait, I’ve been gone five years. Was the rest of the trilogy any good?”

“You also missed the tie-in films,” Amanda said.

“Nooooooooo!” I shouted. “That’s impossible!”

Shadowman charged at me for a third time, this time becoming a liquid blob of a hundred mouths and eyes with dozens of tentacles covered in spikes. I didn’t turn to face him, just snapped my fingers and froze him in a block of ice with the power of the building around me.

For some reason, I couldn’t draw much power from the building, but I could draw a little. Other Gary was smarter than I’d realized and had somehow created wards against me. He couldn’t block me out entirely, but it was like the place was password protected. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

Looking around, I saw that Cindy, Diabloman, and the New Guy had smashed up Mechanko’s robot bodies good. Mandy, meanwhile, was finishing off Ninjess, having sunk her fangs into her neck and drained her of most of her blood. She proceeded to drop the last of the Extreme’s corpse on the ground, a satisfied look on her face.

“We should find a hotel, Gary,” Mandy said. “I feel good.”

In many ways, it seemed. With nothing to stop her, Amanda ran across the room and proceeded to wrap her arms around the New Guy before kissing him passionately. I exchanged a look with Cindy and Diabloman and shrugged.

Amanda pulled away. “This is Mister Inventor, Gary! Galahad Warren.”

“What?” Cloak said. “Galahad Warren?”

“You have a grandson I’ve never heard of?” I asked Cloak. “You dog.”

“No, Gary, I never procreated after my slain family. There were rumors my brother had another grandson who was a superhero in New Bourbon, or Sunlight had a child, but we always discounted it.”

“Please tell me it’s not because he’s black,” I said.

“That’s not why!” Cloak said. “It might be why my brother didn’t invite him to visit, though.”

“You’re breaking my heart, Cloak.” I shook my head. “You’ll need to talk with this guy at length.”

I had, in fact, heard of Mister Inventor even if I’d never heard of Galahad Warren. The superhero and supervillain world wasn’t such a large fraternity (and sorority—which I suppose would make it a college) that you couldn’t name A-listers and B-listers if you were a fan. Mister Inventor was solidly a B-lister who had always seemed more interested in using super-science to improve people’s lives than engaging in pointless fights against superpowered criminals.

Dumbass.

“Well, I think Amanda knows him,” I said, watching Amanda continuing to kiss Mister Inventor.

“They used to be involved before Other Gary’s takeover,” Cindy said. “Technically, he’s dating me now.”

I kept watching them kiss. “I think that relationship may be over. Well, maybe not, depending on what you’re into.”

“Eh, I doubt they’re flexible that way,” Cindy said. “I guess that will just go into my other relationships like the five rap stars, two supervillainesses, and Tom Hiddleston.”

“Tom Hiddleston?” I asked. “Really?”

“Jealous?” Mandy asked.

“Yes, but I’m not sure of who,” I said.

That was when Diabloman ran over and wrapped me up in a crippling bear hug.

“Ooomph,” I said, trying to speak but failing.

“I am so glad to see that you’re alive,” Diabloman said, lifting me up. It was strange how healthy and strong he looked compared to the past-his-prime wreck he’d been earlier

“Mmmph,” I said, choking.

“Oh sorry,” Diabloman said, letting me drop on the ground. “I don’t know my own strength anymore.”

“Glad you’re feeling better,” I said, climbing to my feet.

“I’m not,” Diabloman said. “This is an astral projection. My actual body cannot move on its own power anymore.”

I blinked. “Oh . . . well, that sucks.”

Diabloman shrugged. “I am a warrior. I’m honored to have the privilege of continuing to fight the good fight for a little while longer. It was my truest goal these past five years to die avenging your disappearance.”

I tried to figure that out. “Either you’re a doing a really good job of honoring me or a very bad one.”

Diabloman let out a hearty laugh. “Come with us. We must get out of here. There is something back at our headquarters you must see.”

“We can’t,” I said, shaking my hands. “We need to figure out how to harness the magic here to beat Other Gary. Then I—”

Cindy stared at me. “Gary, you really, really need to come with us now.”

I blinked and looked at her sideways. There was something about her demeanor that spoke to me. I also took a moment to look at how my favorite henchwench had changed in the past five years. Honestly, she didn’t look that different.

Good genetics or whatever super-science medical advances Other Gary was peddling had her even more beautiful at thirty-five than she had been in her twenties. Granted, that included a period with a serious drug problem, so it wasn’t saying much, but she seemed to possess a maturity and concern that hadn’t been there before. It surprised me.

“Not all people are content to live their lives in a perpetual adolescence,” Cloak said.

“I tried the nine-to-five thing. It resulted in a soul-crushing job, broken family life, and a devastating sense of worthlessness. I’m living the Fight Club dream now,” I projected at Cloak.

“Didn’t Fight Club end with him killing his alternate self so he could enjoy a stable life with his girlfriend?”

I paused, then said aloud, “We’re not living Fight Club.”

Any choice I might have had was interrupted by a quartet of gigantic robots landing outside the front door of the Merciful building. They were accompanied by a hundred police cars, several SWAT team vans, and what looked like teleporting-in Foundation for World Harmony power-armored soldiers.

“Yes, now is probably a time to go,” I muttered.

That was when Mandy grabbed me by the shoulder and dragged me to the weird tunneling machine that my friends had arrived in. The rest of the group piled in as well, making a snug fit, but not so much that I felt we were going to run out of air or anything. Other Gary’s defenses also worked in our favor, as they kept his private army from breaking through the doors before we started tunneling into the earth.

Everyone breathed out a sigh of relief except me and Mandy. Me, because I wasn’t at all happy about escaping Other Gary’s home base without figuring out a way to harness his power. Mandy because, well, she didn’t breathe.

But it established one thing for me.

My henchmen were terrified of my doppelgänger.

That changed things. So did the answer to my next question. “So, what is that thing you wanted to show me?”

“Uh,” Cindy said. “It’s not a thing. It’s . . . well . . .”

Diabloman finished for her. “Your daughter.”

Chapter Eight

WHERE MY BRAIN SHUTS DOWN FOR A BIT

I stared forward, a blank expression on my face. Everything was a confusing mass of questions and sheer shock at Cindy’s revelation.

Mandy gave me a dope slap to the back of the head.

“Ow!” I snapped. “What the hell was that for? I was taking a second to process that!”

“That was twenty minutes ago!” Mandy gestured to the transparent steel windows. We were still travelling through hard rock underneath Falconcrest City.

“Oh, wow,” I said, looking around. “Where are we going, Zion?”

“Close enough,” Galahad Warren said. “We have an underground base that was formerly owned by the Groundhog. It’s got a fascinating story behind it.”

“Yeah, I don’t care,” I said, turning back to Cindy. “My child? I have a child? How did this happen?”

Cindy stared at me, then raised one eyebrow.

“Ah, yes,” I said, taking a deep breath. “The usual way.”

“I considered being part of a class action lawsuit against the company that manufactured my birth control, but given that I thought you were dead and was having little Gizmo as something to remember you by, I figured that would be awkward when she was an adult,” Cindy said before smiling. “She’s an adorable—”

“Wait, hold up,” I interrupted. “Gizmo?”

“It’s better than Mindy or Gabriel,” Cindy said.

“I’m not sure it is,” I said, horrified. “You named her after the fuzzy thing in Gremlins?”

“Mogwai,” Cindy said. “Well, it was six months after she was born and she needed a name. Then I saw her building some robots and figured, oh, isn’t that cute! She’s working with gizmos, so it’s an appropriate name! Also, she’s a real monster if you feed her after midnight.”

“You didn’t name her for six months?” Mandy interjected, appalled. She was handling this well, by which I meant she hadn’t killed me or Cindy.

Yet.

“Technically, the name on her birth certificate is Leia Buffy Ripley Wakowski Karkofsky,” Mister Inventor said, interjecting into a conversation where he was deeply not wanted.

I stared at him. “This just keeps getting worse and worse.”

“Well, I hate my mother, my grandmother, and your mother, and Mandy is my only female friend who isn’t evil,” Cindy said. “I’m not good at deciding these things. Besides, you weren’t exactly here to help.”

That was like a stab in the gut and I crossed my arms over my stomach. I’d wanted kids since before I’d gotten married. Family was one of the few things that made me feel normal, and I mean that in a “normal as good” way rather than the “banality of evil” way I usually did. I didn’t need to be a supervillain when I had family and they made me feel good about myself for their presence. The fact that I had missed the first five years of my daughter’s life, which would make her—what—four?

God.

“I’m sorry,” Cindy said, reaching over and placing her hand on my shoulder. “But Gizmo is a beautiful, healthy, happy, super-intelligent telepathic little girl. Galahad, Kerri, and Diabloman have been great parents to her.”

“Wait, you didn’t raise her?” I asked, casting her a sideways glance.

“Well, I was physically present,” Cindy said, waving her right hand in front of her. “I’ve also served as her doctor! Lots and lots of shots. People who don’t vaccinate their kids are jackasses. It’s just that I’m not really into that touchy-feely, emotional stuff. Like hugging.”

I covered my face with my palm and shook my head. “Dear Lord.”

“He’s probably happy about it,” Cindy said. “The fact the father of my child is also Jewish is literally the only thing I’ve done right per my grandmother. Are you sure you’re not an adopted Gentile, Gary? That would please me greatly.”

“Take comfort from the fact that the father of your child was married to another woman,” Mandy said, shaking her head.

“There is that,” Cindy said.

Mandy and I had one disagreement before I’d become a supervillain and everything had become overwhelmed by crazy. Basically, Mandy hadn’t wanted kids. I was really interested in raising the next generation; she was not. Nothing wrong with that, but it was severely awkward, and neither of us had changed our opinions on the subject in the five years we’d been married. Now ten. Wait—wow, had it really been that long? I was getting old.

“Actually, most superheroes are several decades old but all look like twentysomethings. It’s similar with supervillains,” Cloak said.

“Wait, really?” I asked.

“Yes,” Cloak said. “Even younger ones like the building-climbing and street-swinging Ink Spot are well into their middle years. You, for example, Gary, still look like you’re in your mid-to-late twenties.”

“OK, that’s just weird. What’s that about?” I asked, allowing myself to get distracted.

“No idea,” Cloak said. “I’m annoyed because I was fine right up until I grew old and died.”

“Superhuman time,” I said. “Who knew.”

“It seems like something we should have investigated, but we never got around to it,” Cloak said.

“Gary?” Mandy asked. “You went off into your own little world again.”

“Oh!” I said, blinking. “I did, didn’t I? Listen, Mandy—”

“I don’t care,” Mandy said.

“Err, what?” I said.

“Yeah, that’s an awful reaction!” Cindy said. “You know, unless you intend to rip out our throats and devour our precious bodily fluids. In which case not caring is an incredibly good reaction!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind devouring your fluids,” Mandy said, smiling.

Cindy’s eyes widened. It was an expression torn between embarrassment, fear, and curiosity.

“I’ve lived through two previous timelines with you two,” Mandy said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve had kids with Cindy before. Which one is this, the really smart one or the creepy little girl who makes zombies?”

“The smart one,” Cindy said.

“Ah, good,” Mandy said. “I liked her. You also had a boy with Gabrielle in the timeline where she lived.”

“You cheating bastard!” Cindy said, horrified.

“I’m not!” I said, horrified.

“Eh, better Cindy than me,” Mandy said. “I’m not a big fan of the motherhood thing.”

“Sweet Jesus,” Amanda muttered, looking more disgusted by the second. “Could we be anywhere else but in this cramped space? I really don’t want to be here for however long it takes them to stop discussing their sex life.”

“I’m afraid that’s probably not going to happen,” Galahad said. “It’s like ninety percent of what Cindy discusses. The remaining ten percent being divided between drugs and medical advances.”

“I discuss other stuff! Sometimes!” Cindy said.

Mandy rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Guys, I’m two hundred years old. I’ve lived with you through two incarnations of the universe. I know you love each other. I also know I can’t and won’t be having Gary’s children. So, it’s an easy fix.”

I stared at her. “I’m pretty sure that’s not a normal reaction.”

“Well, I intend to keep you both as my blood-addicted slaves and food sources as repayment,” Mandy replied.

Both of us stared at her.

“You’re waiting for an ‘I’m kidding’, aren’t you?” Mandy said.

“Just a little,” I said.

“It’s not 1953,” Mandy said. “We’ll work this out. Even if I know Gary isn’t into the whole French thing.”

“Is there any way to make this thing go faster?” Amanda said, pushing a button on the side of the door repeatedly as if we were trapped in an elevator.

“Please don’t do that,” Galahad said.

“Why, is it bad?” Amanda asked.

“Yes.” Galahad nodded. “That’s the AC controls.”

I tried to figure out how to respond. “I love you both. I do. It’s just I don’t want to end up like Fleetwood Mac.”

“Are you Stevie Nicks or Mic Fleetwood?” Diabloman asked.

Everyone looked at him.

“What? I listen to music,” Diabloman said. “It’s the first time I’ve gotten a reference from you people.”

“I just want Gary to be there in my daughter’s life,” Cindy said. “I can deal with everything else. I certainly don’t want to interrupt your marriage.”

“We were in a suburban underground prison camp,” I said. “If our marriage survived that, it’ll survive this.”

“So, you had a child with Cindy while I was dead,” Mandy said. “Anything else you were up to that past year other than trying to resurrect me?”

“I robbed the Star King’s palace of the Celestial Jewel, I blew up an Exterminator processing plant with the Tomorrow Society, I participated in a couple of crossover events where heroes tried to beat me up before realizing we were on the same side, and I grew a beard of sorrow that made me look like an Evil Obi-Wan Kenobi.” I paused. “I was also briefly a member of the Black-Eyed Peas.”

Mandy blinked. “That last part is the only one I disbelieve because I know how badly you sing.”

“Auto-Tune,” I said, making finger guns. “It’s a musician’s best friend.”

“Speaking as a musician,” Mandy said, “I would disagree.”

“A crappy musician’s best friend,” I corrected. “But no, Mandy. No force on Earth could get me to leave you . . . or my family.”

Mandy smiled. Cindy hugged me.

I hugged back.

“Are we there yet?” Amanda asked.

“Thirty more minutes,” Galahad said. “I should probably be in this conversation?”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“I kind of raised your daughter,” Galahad said. “So much so that I consider her my daughter too.”

I paused. “In the spirit of trying to be reasonable while my evil doppelgänger rules the city above us, I’ll try and not murder you for that.”

“You’re welcome,” Galahad said.

“I can’t wait for you to meet her,” Cindy said, her voice full of a pride I never expected her to have. “She’s amazing.”

“You said she’s a Super?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around that. “It’s not surprising, I guess. Kerri and Lisa are both Supers, so I know my family carries the gene.”

“Yup!” Cindy explained. “Super-intelligence, telepathy, and telekinesis. She can read minds from a hundred feet away.”

I grimaced. “I’m already imagining the kind of things she’s picked up from you guys.”

Cindy grimaced as well. “Thankfully, she’s mature for her age.”

I decided to compartmentalize that for a second. “So, what about Kerri and Lisa? How are they? Please tell me they’re OK.”

“Kerri lives at the base,” Cindy said. “Lisa is undercover with the Society of Superheroes as Fireworks the Sensational Singing Superheroine.”

I stared at her. “I’ve heard my niece sing. It’s like if someone took my voice, made it female, and then made it sound worse.”

“Auto-Tune,” Cindy said, having unfortunately heard my real-life singing voice. “Super-Auto-Tune.”

Cindy reached into her picnic basket and pulled out an Omegapod that looked about the size of a quarter. She put it in my ear.

“Play track five,” Cindy said.

I listened to my niece, now sounding like a woman rather than a teenager. “OK, that’s just terrible.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Mandy said.

“It’s a cover of ‘Call Me Maybe’ with hip-hop elements,” I said.

Mandy’s fangs shot out as she covered her face like Dracula being repelled by a cross. “Hiss!”

“She also did rap versions of Katy Perry’s top singles,” Cindy said.

“We have to stop her after we stop my doppelgänger,” I said, removing the earpiece and handing it back to Cindy. “She’s a spy?”

“Unfortunately,” Cindy said, looking down. “There’ve been five or six resistance organizations that have popped up to oppose Other Gary and his regime, but he’s very good at rooting them out. Lisa has helped keep us ahead of them.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I was entirely cool with my loved ones living out their Rebel Alliance/Resistance fantasies, but the simple fact was I’d made a promise to my brother to look out for his daughter. People always thought about the glamor of being the plucky underdog, but in real life, people weren’t usually Han or Luke but those random guys blown up in the hallway of Princess Leia’s starship.

Or, hell, our neighbors in Undertown who’d gotten blown up in a vain attempt to keep us from escaping. It put to lie any claim Merciful had to his codename. Some of the people in his prison had been brainwashed murderers and terrorist scum, but the majority were just people who refused to go along with his empire. They hadn’t been willing to step in line and had simply been removed. I didn’t want that happening to my family.

“So, a group like Amanda’s,” I said. “Which was wiped out.”

Cindy looked over at Amanda, who turned her head.

“I’m sorry,” Cindy said. “I hadn’t heard.”

“The First Citizen doesn’t show his atrocities,” Amanda said. “They happen at night and by the morning are completely cleaned up. People never even know for sure if they’re gone forever or whether they’ve simply been moved away. It’s easier that way.”

It was a sobering reminder that, as much as Other Gary was still me and had a lot of quirks, he was still a ruthless dictator. I had to wonder how many other luxury underground prisons he’d set up across the United States and how much the Society of Superheroes knew. It occurred to me, also, that the constant supervision of the prisoners could have another sinister effect. Do what we say and the people imprisoned within will be safe. Don’t, and they won’t. It’s how I would have done it. If I were a complete scumbag.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to defeat Other Gary at the Merciful Building,” I said. “I couldn’t access all of the power within. Just a little bit of it.”

“I didn’t actually think you’d be able to defeat him outright,” Amanda said, lowering her head. “Maybe just hoped.”

“Our foe is raising crystal towers across the United States from Atlas City to New Angeles,” Diabloman said. “The Merciful Building was just the first. He has taken many fragments and grown them into other places with technology broadcasting the energy across the countryside. We have been trying to decipher the meaning from the beginning.”

“It means he’s not putting everything in one place,” I said, shaking my head. “My doppelgänger has read the Evil Overlord’s List. Even if we destroyed or harvested the energy of one location, it would be picked up by another.”

“There’s got to be a centralized location which all of the power from the crystal towers flows through,” Galahad said. “Unfortunately, that location is disguised and there’s no way to trace it. We can’t go after Other Gary directly, either. Merciful moves his location constantly and makes use of teleportation whenever someone tries to assassinate him. We think he’s also got access to time technology, even though he only uses it sparingly.”

“Why should he?” I asked. “He’s winning.”

Amanda looked at me. “That’s another reason we need you, Gary. You’re one of the few people who is immune to time shifts.”

I’d gotten that from going back in time to kill Hitler sixty times. So, that’s what we call a win-win.

“What’s with the fake son and daughter?” I asked. “Where do they fit into all this?”

“I have no idea,” Galahad said. “They appeared just last year and have been serving as his own personal pet superheroes. Aside from the possibility that they might be based on his children from his universe, we’ve got no idea what they’re up to. They’re very powerful androids, though, and have defeated just about all the remaining supervillain opposition to his reign.”

“And now Androids 17 and 18 need to be dealt with,” I muttered. “It was bad enough to have to deal with Western comics.”

“Pardon?” Amanda said.

“Never mind,” I said. “Just my theory that we’re all trapped in a bunch of bored divinities’ comic book fantasies.”

“Uh-huh,” Amanda said. “So, what are you going to do?”

I took a deep breath. “Meet with my daughter and come up with a plan that fixes everything.”

“That’s it?” Amanda asked.

“She’s the brains,” I said, gesturing to Mandy. “I’m just eye candy.”

“Meet with your daughter,” Mandy said, putting her hand on my shoulder. “I’ll figure something out.”

Chapter Nine

WHERE I MEET MY DAUGHTER FOR THE FIRST TIME

To say I was nervous is understating things. It was more like I was about ready to melt into a pile of jelly and then someone was going to stomp on it. I’d just spent the past five years imprisoned, and all of that felt like a distant dream compared to the stark reality, right now, that I had a child. It was a weird and unnatural feeling.

“On the contrary, I think it is probably the most natural feeling in the world,” Cloak said. “To be a new father is something I both envy and congratulate you on.”

“That bastard knew,” I thought back at him. “The bastard knew and kept me from her. If I wasn’t going to kill him for what he’d done already, I’d kill him for that.”

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder how this would affect Mandy. Escaping from that suburban hellhole was bringing into sharp relief just how much I’d wronged my wife. Not just by being with Cindy—though I now had mixed feelings about that—but also by being responsible for her becoming a vampire and the nightmarish business with the time folds. Add in the past five years of imprisonment, and I didn’t understand how she didn’t hate me.

“You should take caution not to infantilize Mandy,” Cloak said. “She has made her choice to be by your side and be a hero on her own. She died fighting against evil, trying to destroy her city, and fought for two hundred years against President Omega’s reign. If she has decided you are worth standing by, that is her choice. Not yours.”

“Way to ruin my brood,” I muttered. Truth be told, I wasn’t reassured.

Other Gary had played a cruel joke on me when he’d restored Mandy’s soul. He’d done so knowing that she would get caught up in his time loops and spend centuries fighting against President Omega’s monsters. She’d spent decades alongside me that I didn’t remember, with knowledge of friends and loved ones I couldn’t share.

I should be grateful, but I was also wary. I was afraid to disappoint my wife and was certain things would collapse any moment. How was a child going to impact my already fragile relationship with Mandy? Five years should have been enough to repair things, but we’d been mind-zapped nearly the entire time. I didn’t get to think much more on the subject as the tunneling device finally reached its destination.

Out the window, I saw a beautiful palace of crystal in the middle of a lake full of lava. We were now floating on hover-jets, which took us to the side of the building. The place was massive, and I saw men made of magma hurling balls of burning flame at each other in the lake below. I felt like I’d walked into an eighties cartoon, and for me to say that, I was really entering Wonderland.

“I really hope you’ve got temperature control,” I said. “Because despite what it looked like on Mustafar, getting anywhere near lava is actually a really bad idea. Your face would be catching fire right next to it.”

“That’s not lava. That’s fire water,” Galahad said.

I shot him a glance. “Is this an oil-versus-black-blood-of-the-earth distinction? Because I’m not seeing it.”

Mister Inventor stared at me. “It’s harmless.”

“OK,” I said. “I’m not drinking it, though.”

“Never,” Mister Inventor said. “It tastes terrible.”

The burrowing device, which really needed a snappy name like “The Molediver” or “The Mercidriller,” floated over to the side of the crystal palace and attached itself to a hallway extending outwards. The door opened, and we were let loose into a cool hallway of shining crystal. It was beautiful and had its own luminescence, making me wonder how anyone slept in here.

“So, a hundred miles underground is how far you have to go to be safe from Other Gary,” I muttered.

“Not quite that far,” Galahad said. “I hope you’ll make yourselves comfortable, though.”

“I won’t,” I said simply. “I’ve spent way too much time underground lately and I’m eager to get back up to the surface.”

Mandy came up beside me. “We thank you for your hospitality. I promise not to kill and eat anyone under your roof without your permission.”

Galahad stared at her. “Right. Uh, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Mandy said.

“If only my cell had known about this place,” Amanda said. “Wyatt might still be alive.”

“Wyatt?” I asked.

“Who Amanda left me for,” Galahad said.

“Ah,” I said, nodding. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll actually try not to butt into your every-bit-as-complex-as-mine love life.”

“You do that,” Amanda said.

“That’s kind of unavoidable in my case,” Cindy said. “By the way, you’re one hundred percent straight, right?”

“Yes,” Amanda said. “Zero on the Kinsey Scale.”

“Gotcha,” Cindy said, thumbs up. “We can work around that.”

“We really can’t,” Amanda said.

I walked into the lounge of the crystal palace, which I mentally named the Crystal Palace, and saw it was full of quartz furniture covered in cushions as well as twenty-ninth century electronics. The place was as close to living in space as I was probably going to get.

“What do you think?” Galahad asked.

“I think She-Ra could live here.” I paused. “Though I swear, this reminds me more of Ultragod’s old place at the North Pole. I used to go up there with Gabrielle to have sex during the holidays—”

Mandy stared at me.

“Just how deep am I?” I asked.

“It’s like you started at rock bottom and kept going,” Mandy said, waving her hand like she was digging. There was a playfulness to her voice that unsettled me, though. The old Mandy wouldn’t be so understanding. What I’d done was wrong and had been born out of grief. Was Mandy even capable of feeling jealousy as a vampire?

“Having briefly been enslaved by Carmilla, I can assure you, they are very possessive,” Cloak said.

“Carmilla?” I asked. “Uh, Cloak, I don’t mean to put you down, but I don’t think she was actually into you.”

“She did a remarkable impression,” Cloak muttered. “Although she was more interested in Guinevere.”

“So, where’s my daughter?” I said, looking around. “I’m eager to get acquainted.”

“I will return to my body,” Diabloman said. “I feel the strain of using my powers so long and need to recover. You should go fetch her, Cindy.”

“What am I, a dog?” Cindy said, frowning.

“You’re a parent,” Diabloman said.

“Oh right,” Cindy said. “Sure, I’ll get her.”

Diabloman vanished as his astral form returned to his body, while Cindy very reluctantly went off to get her daughter.

Once gone, I looked over at Galahad. “On a scale of one to ten, just how bad is Cindy at being a parent?”

“Solidly average,” Galahad said cheerfully. “After all, she always leaves Gizmo with excellent guardians.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, sighing. “Listen, we probably got off on the wrong foot what with you raising my kid and all.”

“As well as dating your mistress?” Galahad said.

“Cindy’s not my mistress,” I said, more forcibly than perhaps was necessary. “Technically, again, I’m not sure how undeath affects marriage. Also, Cindy is her own woman; she can date whomever she wants. Unless you’re going to date Amanda, Galahad, in which case I don’t suggest trying for both. It never ever works out.”

“Guinevere was married to Agent Dale Hammer as well as Prince Cosmos,” Cloak said. “Ultragod was married to his childhood friend Penelope Porter as well as Polly Perkins. This doesn’t count his Atlantean marriage to a mermaid.”

I paused. “OK, you’re making that up.”

“No, their love was not a hoax or a fantastic story. Her name was Patricia Palaces. I admit, though, Ultragod was split into three people at the time of his marriages. Those were good times, the Silver Age of Superheroism. I remember I used to have a German Shepherd with a mask named Nightdog.”

“I’m not built that way, Cloak. Also, really kind of creeped out by that story. Not the dog part. Every superhero and villain should have a dog.” I was going to have to find out what happened to mine even though simple arithmetic told me the chances weren’t good they were still around. They’d been old before I’d gone absent for the equivalent of thirty-five dog years. Wow, that was depressing to think about.

“As much as I would love to know what you’re talking with Cloak about, I’m not interested in seeing anyone right now,” Amanda said. “I just lost a bunch of friends and my hometown is ruled by a totalitarian dictator wearing your face.”

“How’s your dad taking it?” I asked, referring to her monstrous cultist father who lived in her Reaper’s Cloak.

“My father stopped trying to talk to me years ago,” Amanda said. “I think he willed himself not to exist once he realized I was never going to forgive him for murdering my mother.”

“What do you think about that?” Mandy asked.

“Good,” Amanda replied.

“Sorry,” I said, sighing. “Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“You’re failing,” Amanda said. “Badly.”

“So why are you a superhero in rebellion, Mister Inventor?” I asked Galahad. “It seems like you and Amanda are the only people left on Team Free Will.”

“Not quite,” Galahad said. “There was a lot more opposition to Other Gary in the beginning, but he had a way of twisting the minds of others to his will.”

“More mind control?” I asked.

“Guilt,” Galahad said. “He pointed out the fact that superheroes were constantly dealing with a revolving door of enemies, that regular humans feared them, and that our resources could better be spent building up the world if all of the supervillains stopped being an issue. Also, little things like due process and democracy. He argued he could sell the United States on giving up their self-determination to the Society of Superheroes in the aftermath of World War Three.”

“And what happened?” I asked.

“He sold the United States on giving up their self-determination,” Galahad said. “I would have resigned like the Silver Medalist if Gabrielle and Amanda hadn’t informed me that the First Citizen was an imposter. Gabrielle went after him directly, planning on exposing him to the world.”

“She didn’t come back,” Amanda said, grief visible on her face. “Other Gary said she went to go help some aliens on Ultraworld. After that, we were framed as terrorists alongside the rest of your criminal organization.”

“Shit,” I muttered, thinking about my former lover. “I was supposed to help her avenge her father, not lead to him taking over.”

“You still might avenge him,” Galahad said, rapidly proving himself the third nicest superhero I’d met after Amanda and Ultragod. I didn’t count Gabrielle in that list since I’d seen her before she had her morning coffee.

“How bad were things post-World War Three?” Mandy asked. “Amanda said twelve million people died.”

“Yes. That’s not counting the people who died in the fallout either,” Galahad replied softly. “President Omega’s time ship still targeted major cities from orbit when he was confirmed as having been killed. The Society of Superheroes stopped most of those attacks but not all of them. Other Gary made sure hundreds of prisons across the globe were secondary targets. Thousands of supervillains were killed in the process, along with their guards and the regular prisoners around them. Maybe as many as half of the supervillains worldwide.”

“I bet those deaths were mourned,” I said sarcastically. There had probably been cheering in the street whether they were despots or thieves. People were fascinated with criminals and their lifestyles but eager to watch them die. It was one of the things that disgusted me about humanity.

“How many criminals have you killed?” Cloak asked.

“Enough,” I answered. “I don’t keep score.”

“It was a senseless waste of life all around,” Galahad said, surprising me. “I believe anyone can be redeemed given enough time and care.”

“I don’t,” I said, not wanting to spend too much time indulging in my own hypocrisy. “My doppelgänger did this so he could make the world look like he wanted it to. That’s beyond forgiveness.”

I’d killed a lot of people over the years. My alternate universe brother would be only the third I’d taken pleasure in. He’d taken five years from my life, did the same to Mandy, and killed Gabrielle’s father. Everything else, including his part in World War 3, was secondary. I couldn’t believe I’d once considered letting him go for helping Mandy get her soul back. I should have found a cure for her condition myself.

“Gary, is that you?” I heard Kerri’s voice behind me.

I spun around and grabbed her into a bear hug. “My beloved sister! My twin!”

“We’re not twins,” Kerri said, struggling for air.

“I know, but it’s nice to think of you as such!” I said, continuing to hug her but loosening my grip.

My sister was dressed in a long black dress that complemented her white skin and ash-white hair. She looked like Christina Ricci if Ricci were a Targaryen. Her hair was done up in an elaborate bun, and she wore a pair of bat-wing earrings. In her right hand was a dustbuster, and I saw her left had a wedding ring on it.

“Oh my God, you’re married!” I said, so pleased. “Who is it? It’s not Galahad, is it? Because if it is, he’s cheating on you and I have to drown him in firewater. Unless you’re cool with that, in which case marriage as a whole is a concept that has been wrecked around here.”

“Gary—” Mandy started to say.

Kerri blinked. “No, no, I got married to Dave Johnson over in accounting. You know, at the Merciless Entertainment Group?”

“Oh, yeah, that guy,” I said, not having a single clue who he was.

“He’s dead,” Kerri said.

“Oh,” I said, blinking.

“Yeah, a giant robot blasted him for not having his papers,” Kerri said, blinking.

“Shit,” I said, staring in horror. “Kerri, I’m so sorry.”

“Want to meet his spook?” Kerri said cheerfully. “We’re working out some details, but all marriages are about adjustment.”

My sister could see ghosts. I mentioned that, right?

“Maybe later,” I said, remembering it was technically my job to send ghosts to the other side.

“Dad?” A soft but surprisingly mature-sounding little girl’s voice spoke. “Is that you?”

I froze in place, my mouth going dry. My hands shook, and I didn’t know if I could look up to the source of the voice. I couldn’t help but remember Death showing me a vision of my dead daughter. In that vision, her name had been Mandy, and she was my daughter with my wife—but was the future really changed? Could it be another horrible fate awaited this daughter if I continued the path I was on? Should I consider just scooping her up, leaving reality, and never looking back?

“Only you can make that decision,” Cloak said.

“Would you have taken your family away and never become a superhero if you could have?” I mentally asked.

“I don’t know,” Cloak said. “Millions of people would have died and the world would have been a worse place if I had chosen my loved ones over being a hero. However, I can’t help but say the temptation would be real. Duty and love are enemies.”

“Only if you’re in the Night’s Watch,” I mentally replied. “Which is kind of a stupid set of oaths anyway. They wouldn’t have personnel problems if they’d passed down the job from father to son and daughter.”

“You’re trying to avoid looking at your daughter because the thought of being a father petrifies you.”

“You’re absolutely correct.”

Reluctantly, I looked up from where I was still hugging Kerri and saw my daughter standing beside Cindy. Gizmo was an entirely normal-looking, white-haired four-year-old wearing a pair of jean overalls, a blue Frozen t-shirt, and her hair tied in pigtails the same way her mother preferred. There was an intelligence and presence to her eyes that belied her age, though, as if a dozen people were thinking inside her head.

“I’ve brought my child,” Cindy said. “Which came from my body.”

Gizmo looked up. “Actually, you had me tubed after your second month of pregnancy.”

“Thank God for Venusian medical technology,” Cindy said. “Those were the hardest two months of my life.”

Gizmo rolled her eyes.

“Hey,” Cindy said, staring down at her. “Wait until you’re a teenager to be disrespectful.”

“No,” Gizmo said.

“That’s my girl,” Cindy said, smiling and rubbing Gizmo’s hair.

“Stop that,” Gizmo said, grimacing. “I can turn you to stone with my inventions.”

I broke away from hugging Kerri to hug her instead.

“You’re just how I always imagined my daughter to be,” I whispered.

Chapter Ten

BEING A FATHER IS MY GREATEST CHANCE FOR VILLAINY YET

I stared into my beautiful daughter’s eyes, soaking up her appearance and trying to burn it into my memory. There was little chance she wasn’t my daughter, since her features looked like a perfect combination of Cindy’s and my own. I could “feel” her magical aura, and it was tinged with the same supernatural inclination to death and destruction that affected both me and my sister. Plus, she had Targaryen hair like mine, and that was difficult to replicate.

Gizmo reached up then and placed her hand on my head. In that moment, I felt her presence in my mind, shuffling around my memories. I’d dealt with telepaths before, and they tended to dislike entering my mind due to Cloak’s presence. This time, though, I let down all my defenses and allowed my daughter to rummage through my mind. The only parts I blocked off were those inappropriate for children.

Which, OK, was a lot of my mind.

After several moments, Gizmo pulled away her hand. “Wow, you have watched a lot of cartoons.”

I shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t say a lot. Average, I’d say.”

“What’s an Evangelion?” Gizmo asked.

“No one knows,” I said. “So, you’re psychic, huh?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Gizmo said. “I’m also super smart like Mister Inventor. Except my super intelligence is an actual superpower because I’m four and know how to build a spaceship.”

“I knew how to build a spaceship at your age too,” I said, smiling. “It was made of four cardboard boxes and packing tape.”

“I doubt that would achieve orbital velocity,” Gizmo said. “Not to mention go past lightspeed.”

“Clearly, you didn’t take into account my reactor core powered by imagination. Cindy hasn’t been keeping up with your education. More Sesame Street for you!”

“Sesame Street depresses me,” Gizmo said, sighing. “That poor homeless green man.”

I shook my head. “You noticed that too, huh?”

“He has a home! It’s in the garbage can! Which leads to a magical place!” Kerri piped in, appalled.

I sighed. “That’s just what he tells people to preserve his dignity.”

Mandy stared at us, then shook her head. “This is almost too adorable.”

Cindy shrugged. “Eh, she does that. She likes to be all cute so you want to love and protect her.”

Mandy gave Cindy a stare.

“What?” Cindy said.

“Who’s the Eurasian goth lady?” Gizmo said, referring to Mandy. “I mean, obviously I know, but I want to make introductions before I lead you to my superhero lair.”

“Superhero lair?” I asked.

“Her room,” Kerri said. “She says it’s unfair that supervillains are the only ones who get elaborate underground bases. It’s one of the things she intends to fix when she takes over the world.”

“World conquest is her goal as a superhero?” I asked.

“That’s another thing she intends to fix as a superhero,” Kerri said. “I had her checked for malign hypercognition disorder, but the doctors say that’s only in Soon I Will Be Invincible.”

“Well, I’m afraid superheroes are already starting to take over the world, so there won’t be a need for reform by the time she’s an adult.” I set down my daughter. “Gizmo, this is Mandy. Mandy, Gizmo. Mandy is my vampire superhero wife.”

“Cool!” Gizmo said. “Do you know the Count? He’s the only part of that show that uplifts me. I mean, yes, he has a serious neurological condition, but he’s not killing anyone.”

Mandy stared at her. “Yes, yes I know him quite well.”

“Did you know the whole counting thing is a real vampire weakness?” I said to Cindy. “I once spilled salt on the table and Mandy was angry at me for a week.”

“You’re lucky I’m good at math or I would have done a lot more than be angry,” Mandy said. “In any case, it’s lovely to meet you, Gizmo.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Mandy,” Gizmo said. “My mom thinks all sorts of interesting things about you!”

“I deny everything!” Cindy said. “Who are you going to believe, me or this innocent child?”

Kerri felt her face. “In any case, it’s great to see you again, Gary. Please tell me you’re not going to try to fight a rebellion against your evil clone from an alternate dimension.”

“Doppelgänger from a past universe,” Gizmo corrected.

“What she said,” I replied. “Sorry, Kerri, but someone has to make sure the world is safe from benevolent tyrants.”

Amanda glared at me.

“I said tyrant.” I shrugged. “I would love to see your room, Gizmo.”

Honestly, I should have been working on a way to defeat Other Gary, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to focus on meeting this special, wonderful person who had just entered my life. Some people might have thought it strange to have such a wealth of feelings for someone they’d just met, but I treasured Gizmo, Leia Buffy Ripley Wakowski-Karkofsky, more than anyone on the Earth save Mandy now.

More than myself.

“On the contrary, this is you at your least strange,” Cloak said.

“Are you going to marry my mother?” Gizmo asked, her voice echoing in my mind alongside Cloak’s.

“Uh,” I responded, surprised at her presence. I could have made up a lie or spoken to her condescendingly, but I decided to tell the truth. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, Leia.”

“Gizmo, please,” Gizmo said. “It’s okay, I know you feel differently about her than you do about your wife.”

“Can you hear Cloak?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Gizmo said. “Our entire family is like directly descended from Death through Cain.”

That was the first I’d heard of that. It also made a lot of the times Death seemed to hit on me even weirder. “OK.”

“Nice to meet you,” Cloak said. “I’ve been trying to encourage Gary to be more accommodating to your mother. In my day, we had morals. You took care of your mistress when she had your illegitimate child.”

Gizmo giggled at that description, thankfully not taking Lancel Warren’s decidedly 1930s view of the world too seriously.

“Shut up, Cloak,” I muttered. “Really.”

I’d had a lot of time to think about how I felt about Cindy while trapped in Undertown. At least, when I wasn’t drugged and brainwashed out of my skull. I was attracted to her, considered her to be my best friend, and would die as well as kill for her. The thing was, that was a different sort of feeling than what I’d felt for Mandy and even Gabrielle before her. Close enough that I might have once confused the two kinds of love, but distinct nevertheless. Maybe it could have been more once, but that time had passed long ago.

“Do you regret being with her?” Gizmo asked me mentally. “My mom?”

I closed my eyes. “No, because you were born from it. Also, this is a way, way too mature conversation for you at your age. You shouldn’t know where babies come from. Ask about it when you’re fifty.”

“Of course I know where babies come from! I’m psychic. I mean, it’s weird and gross, but most people think about the process all the time. At least the making of them.”

“They come from Kamino cloning tanks,” I mentally interjected. “Anything you’ve seen in other people’s minds is mistaken. Just forget it. Forget it all.”

Gizmo rolled her eyes. “Oh, Dad.”

“Don’t do that either,” I said aloud. “Your eyes will get stuck that way.”

Cindy laughed. “See what Kerri has to deal with as a mother?”

Kerri glared at her. “I’d complain about raising my brother’s children, but Gary paid me one point five billion dollars, so I can’t complain too much.”

“You ever get that money back from the government?” I asked.

Kerri nodded. “Oh yes, I gave it away to feed the starving and cure the sick.”

I stared at her, then choked and cocked my head to one side before strangling the air in front of her. Thankfully, I couldn’t do the Darth Vader force choke.

Kerri grinned. “I knew you’d approve of what I did with the money you stole!”

I tried to speak for several more seconds, but it came out sounding like the Black Speech of Mordor. “Wh—whah . . . why?”

Kerri smiled. “Oh, it just wouldn’t be proper to keep it.”

Gizmo proceeded to take my hand and drag me along to her room. I could feel her telekinesis assisting her otherwise easy-to resist-grip. Either that or she was the world’s strongest four-year-old.

“Almost five!” Gizmo corrected me, apparently listening to my thoughts.

Mandy burst out laughing before covering her face. “Gary, I’m genuinely impressed. She’s definitely your daughter.”

“Who else’s would she be?” Cindy said, putting her hands on her hips.

Mandy stared at her, then raised an eyebrow.

Cindy looked away. “Touché.”

Gizmo’s room was just down the hall, and I had to say it wasn’t at all what I expected. Well, that wasn’t true, as I was expecting anything but a normal little girl’s room, which this was most certainly not. In truth, it looked a lot more like a garage, with countless shelves full of junk and machinery ranging from Venusian spare parts to old television sets.

The walls were covered in cartoon posters and there was a staggering amount of My Little Pony dolls about—except she’d apparently made the majority into cyborgs. I also saw she was a Star Wars fan, but apparently of a cartoon I hadn’t watched yet called Rebels. The bed had little Death Star sheets on it, which I found to be vaguely worrying.

I shook my head, staring at the massive pile of junk. “Cindy lets you play with all this?”

“Cindy is all about something she calls free-range parenting,” Gizmo said, dragging me into the center of the room. “I don’t actually think that’s a thing, or if it is, she understands it very well.”

I smiled. “Probably not. How did you learn all of this?”

“Oh. Well, when I was born I downloaded all of my mother’s memories and Mister Inventor’s memories and some of Kerri’s. Then I started sorting through them. Mostly, I ditched the stuff that wasn’t relevant to a newborn but kept the technical data as well as language skills.”

I stared at her, figuring that out. “Uh-huh. So, you’re less an adorable baby genius girl and more like Saint Alia of the Knife.”

“That’s a Dune reference, right?”

“Yep.”

“Didn’t bother to remember it. No ponies.”

I smirked at that. “Every piece of media can be improved by the addition of ponies.”

“I agree,” Gizmo said, going over to a pile of junk and starting to sort through it. “Except Inspector Gadget. That show is fine the way it is. I strongly identify with the main character.”

I looked at my daughter. “You mean his eight-year-old super genius niece, don’t you?”

“Who else?” Gizmo giggled.

I was thinking of other cool things to say to my daughter when I heard a rumbling noise behind me. Turning around, I saw an eight-foot-tall golden-metal android that looked like an armored giant’s skeleton. On the chest plate, I could see a red M in a circle with a sideways bar over it.

“Target Located: Merciful: The Superhero With Mercy™,” a deep and threatening voice spoke. “Murderbot-1 commencing elimination.”

“Meep,” I said, moving to freeze it before it grabbed me by the cape and slammed me against the floor. It then continued to spin me around in a way that made me incredibly dizzy. I barely managed to turn intangible and pass through it. I almost blasted it with fire before realizing my daughter was in the room.

Murderbot-1 then spun its entire torso around and swung at my head. I barely ducked under it. I turned intangible and jammed my fist inside it, conjuring white-hot flame that melted much of its torso’s insides.

Murderbot-1 let out a creepy metallic laugh. “Engaging strange-dimensional energy death-ray eyes.”

Its eyes began to glow as I pulled my hands out and levitated under the ground to pull it down with me into the floor.

“STOP!” my daughter shouted.

Murderbot-1 and I both did.

“For shame, Murderbot! This is Merciless, not Merciful!” Gizmo said, walking up. “Dad, did you melt his interior circuits? Those are needed to power his crowd control attacks! It’s going to take months to fix! Wait, unless I build something to fix it for me. Hmm.”

“Sorry, mistress,” Murderbot said, sounding less than pleased.

“Switch to lovable cockney accent!” Gizmo said.

“Eh, sorry mistress,” Murderbot said, sounding less like an actual person from London and more like Dick Van Dyke. “Poppin’ good time, what?”

“My London gangster friends would shiv him for that,” I muttered. “As soon as they figured out how.”

Cindy, Mandy, and Kerri arrived seconds later, having apparently been caught up talking in the hallway.

“Gizmo!” Kerri said. “Did you try to kill your father?”

Gizmo put on a miniature lab coat and steampunk goggles. “No! That was just Murderbot!”

Kerri did a double take. “Who gave you permission to make a murderbot!?”

Gizmo looked at Cindy.

Cindy raised her hands. “Don’t look at me. I said you could make a killer robot only if your grades were good, and I don’t see any report cards!”

“She doesn’t go to school!” Kerri said.

Gizmo pointed a framed GED on her wall. “I admit, I had to lie and create an online secret identity, but I answered all the questions!”

Kerri looked ready to strangle Cindy. It was perhaps the maddest I’ve ever seen her since they cancelled The Muppet Show.

Mandy surprised me by looking at one of the objects on Gizmo’s shelves. “Is that a P.H.A.N.T.O.M Panopticon key?”

“Yes,” Gizmo said, proudly. “I just got it fixed. I don’t have the hands for fine manipulation but have the benefit of telekinesis.”

“May I borrow it?” Mandy said. “If we have a sufficiently powerful computer system, I might be able to tap into the First Citizen’s networks. One thing about totalitarian dictatorships is they like to keep everything under watch, and it’d be good to turn that against him.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Gizmo said. “I’m glad I’m helping!”

“A spot of tea, Guv’nor?” Murderbot asked. “Biscuits? Crumpets?”

The killer robot had put on a bowler hat with a Union Jack on it. It was also holding a tea kettle in its hand.

“The Londoner and Union Jane would hate you so much,” Mandy said. “Or love you, I can’t tell.”

I shook my head and tried to think about what to say next. This had been a greatly educational experience, telling me just how I should relate to my daughter. Admittedly, that was through mad science and murderbots, but that was more ways than my father had been able to relate to me.

Cloak, as always, had to be a party pooper. “Your daughter has a condition that requires specialized schooling and treatment. You should take her to the Tomorrow Society where they can assist her.”

“My daughter’s condition is she has superpowers, Cloak.”

“And it could be dangerous to her and others like her.”

I shook my head, wondering if the Tomorrow Society existed anymore or if President Omega had murdered them all. The organization might also have been subverted to become a place that conscripted superheroes for Other Gary’s New Order.

“I’m going to go work on this for the next few hours,” Mandy said. “I hope you guys won’t get into any trouble while I’m gone.”

I stared at her. “Oh, I’m sure Diabloman will keep me out of too much trouble. Where is he, anyway?”

Kerri and Cindy exchanged a look.

“What?”

Cindy frowned. “Diabloman is sick, Gary. Very sick. He’s dying. He has been for years.”

I took a deep breath. “Show me.”

Chapter Eleven

WHERE I REALIZE OTHER PEOPLE HAVE PROBLEMS TOO

Cindy walked me to the Crystal Palace’s hospital wing and let me go into Diabloman’s room by myself. I walked into the hermetically sealed environment after being splashed with a bunch of white gases that Galahad insisted would disinfect me. Diabloman’s hospital room was a prefabricated box containing a lot of stolen medical equipment, including a Venusian life-support chamber, which looked like a recliner with a metal clamp over the chest covered in blinking lights.

I hated hospital, and this was no exception. The place smelled and sounded exactly like Falconcrest City General. I’d lost my father the year of President Omega’s rampage, and it disgusted me to be once more surrounded by the trappings of death.

And yes, I noted the hypocrisy given I was her champion.

Diabloman, in a few words, didn’t look good. The once-muscular supervillain was reduced to a shadow of himself. He looked like he’d aged a couple of decades rather than just five years, though it was difficult to tell since he was still wearing his mask. Diabloman had lost almost two hundred pounds; he looked like a husky, flesh-covered skeleton. Tubes to various bags of fluids were linked to his arms, heart, kidneys, and other vital organs. One of the monitors showed he had artificial organs now, science having done its very best to prolong his life past its sell-by date.

Unfortunately, from what little I understood, even this was failing. D had used black magic for years to give himself super strength and survive the countless beatings he’d received at the hands of superheroes. Black magic was inherently hostile to the spirit, though, which is just one of the reasons why you should never make a deal with the Devil. Diabloman’s infernal masters had never intended him to last. He was a short-term weapon designed to bring about the end of the world. I found it no coincidence he’d lost his ability to regenerate from the damage caused by his powers when he’d started helping people.

“Oh, D,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“I know my astral projection looks much better,” Diabloman said, his voice even lower and more gravelly than usual. “Still, I have to give credit to Cindy and Gabriel. I had six months to live before we killed President Omega, and they’ve dragged it on for years.”

“You were dying before I left?” I asked, using “left” as a euphemism for “was kidnapped by my doppelgänger and thrown in suburban hell.”

“All of us are dying,” Diabloman said, shrugging. “I was raised to believe even the immortals are hurtling toward a permanent entropic state that will eventually consume the Multiverse.”

“Yes, but the people who raised you sucked,” I said. “What with being demon worshipers and all.”

“Don’t be religiously intolerant,” Diabloman said, looking at me with an expression I expected was akin to a smile. It was hard to tell with the way his mask was baggy and loose around his face.

“Well, either way, I’m going to fix this.” I took a deep breath. God, first my father and now Diabloman. Dying of natural causes sucked worse than dying of unnatural ones.

Diabloman sighed. “Gary, it’s not your responsibility to try to fix every problem you encounter.”

“Err, yes, it is,” I said. “At least when the problem is one of my crew dying.”

Diabloman stared at me. “Have you seen Gizmo?”

I cringed at that name but nodded. “I have. I’m a father now. I never expected that to happen. She’s a brilliant, wonderful, entirely terrifying little girl. They should make a cartoon about her where she takes over the neighborhood from her rival mad scientist child across the lawn.”

“It would be very popular,” Diabloman said, chuckling. “I’m sorry that you were denied a chance to see so many moments of her life—her birth, first steps, and solving quantum mechanics.”

“Did it need to be solved?” I asked.

“No, but she solved it anyway,” Diabloman said. “I’ve tried to tell her about you and what a good man you were.”

“So, you’ve been lying to her?” I asked before giving him a thumbs-up. “Good job.”

Diabloman laughed again, this time choking halfway through before catching his breath. “I’ve missed you, my friend.”

“Me too,” I said, thinking about all the time I’d lost. “How’s your family? Are . . . they all right?” I wasn’t sure how to ask “So has my alternate self-murdered your family? Because really, that’s entirely possible with this guy.”

“They’re all right,” Diabloman said, not speaking for a few moments thereafter. “I haven’t seen them for some time. The First Citizen’s reach is long, but not into the areas of Mexico where they’re hiding. Last I’d heard, my daughter Anna had decided to become a superhero.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “You give your children all the good parenting you can, but sometimes it isn’t enough.”

Diabloman looked at me sideways. “I’m proud of her, Gary. She’s decided to become a white magician. A sorceress who helps people. I don’t think she’s going to work with the Society of Superheroes or fight crime, though. I believe she intends to primarily serve as a healer and rescue worker.”

“Probably a good idea,” I muttered. “What the hell happened to the Society of Superheroes? How can they let this happen? I mean, cliché as it may sound, they’re supposed to be the good guys.”

“They still are,” Cloak said. “I’m sure of it.”

“Evidence says otherwise,” I mentally chided Cloak. “The only thing necessary for good to triumph is for it to become evil.”

“That statement gives me a headache,” Cloak said.

“Good,” I said.

“Ultragod’s loss was a great one,” Diabloman said, answering my earlier question. “When Other Gary killed him, he not only destroyed the greatest of superheroes, but also many of the world’s heroes’ belief that they could be better than the lesser evil. Gabrielle’s disappearance made it worse, as she was the only one who believed in redemption for supervillains. What was left without them was an organization that was rigid and inflexible about its rules. The organization that would not bend simply broke, and now it just enforces the law rather than seeking justice.”

I still couldn’t believe it. I thought about all the wonderful things the SOS had done for humanity over the years. The cracks had always been there, though. They’d protected the Extreme, Shoot-Em-Up, and other antiheroes. They hadn’t worked against corrupt regimes and sometimes even propped them up when they felt it was a better alternative to chaos. Many times, they’d let atrocities happen if it meant preserving their special relationship with the world’s governments. Not to mention the whole Guantanamo Bay-esque prison they’d built on the moon. What had that been about? Oh right, keeping people like me off the streets.

“How bad is it outside of Falconcrest City?” I asked.

“Bad is an interesting measure,” Diabloman said. “As you may have noticed, the United States is recovering nicely from World War Three. Crime is down, the economy is up, technology continues to be discovered—”

“Everyone is happy right up until someone shoves a black bag over your head and drags you off to Room 101.”

“Yes,” Diabloman said. “But it was the people who handed power over to Other Gary and his supporters.”

I thought about that. “Not my problem.”

“Oh?” Diabloman asked.

“You were the one who said I shouldn’t try to fix everything,” I said, sighing. “The United States wasn’t exactly pitch-perfect beforehand. I’ll deal with Other Gary and let things resolve themselves their own way,” I said, shrugging. “Maybe focus more on robbing banks and less on trying to change the world. Shockingly enough, killing the president of the United States doesn’t seem to have actually made the world a better place.”

“Was that sarcasm?” Diabloman asked.

“Yes,” I hissed.

“Just checking.”

I frowned and put my hands together. “Let’s change the subject to something less depressing, like terminal illness. Have you considered transferring your soul to a new body? I can probably do that. Magic Jar is only a fifth-level spell. Wait. Dammit, we’re in the fifth edition now and I don’t have the rulebooks for that.”

Diabloman reached over and took my hand. “Gary, I don’t want you wasting your time trying to fix me.”

I stared at him. “It’s not a waste of time. You’re family.”

“Cindy and Galahad have exhausted every possible avenue of research,” Diabloman said, his voice showing less bitterness than I would have expected. “Indeed, they have taken far too much time away from trying to rescue you, Mandy, and Gabrielle.”

“Maybe my daughter could take a crack at it,” I said, half-joking.

“She built my astral projection unit,” Diabloman said. “Magic and science aren’t really two separate fields for her. Even so, I have turned down her offer to make me a robot body to house my brain. If the demons I worship want me to survive, I will, but I suspect they do not. I have done too many good deeds in your service.”

“We did good deeds?” I asked.

“We saved the world, twice.”

“Yes, but purely for selfish reasons!” I said, horrified. “I mean, we live here!”

I couldn’t tell through his mask, but I swore Diabloman rolled his eyes. “The Lords of Hell are not so easy to deny.”

“Not my experience,” I said. “Remember when Mister Evil tried to claim your daughter’s soul and I managed to win it along with a golden guitar in a rock off?”

“I remember you saving my daughter, yes,” Diabloman said. “You were quite clever to choose the song ‘Stairway to Heaven’ to trick it. I still smile whenever I think about how it refused to do the song and forfeited.”

“That was the only song I knew how to do,” I said, grimacing. “I just lucked out. If it had been a piano duel, I could have done ‘Chopsticks’ or ‘Closing Time.’”

Diabloman lowered his head. “Before I pass on, I want you to give you what remaining advice I can about the way the world works for a proper supervillain.”

I gave his hand a squeeze. “You’re not dying. But I’ll listen.”

“Always remember who your friends are. A true crew will have your back through thick and thin, while most other criminals will betray you.”

I nodded. “I’m listening.”

“Don’t trust aliens or artificial intelligences because they all want to destroy humanity.”

“OK, that’s a bit prejudiced,” I muttered.

“Beware Atlanteans because they’re all thieves.”

“What I said above but doubled.”

“If you must choose an ethnic crime gang to hire from, don’t use Caucasians because they’re over privileged.”

I frowned at Diabloman. “OK, we’ve gone from funny ha-ha fantastic racism to just racism.”

“Some stereotypes have truth to them.”

“Grandpa? Is that you?”

Diabloman gave a short laugh before starting to wheeze and cough. When he finished, he took a deep breath before continuing. “I never explained to you, Gary, why I was so devoted to you. Why I stood by you when it would have been so easy to betray you and claim all of the treasures we stole together.”

“Because you’re an awesome cool mentor guy?” I suggested.

“No,” Diabloman said. “Because this next piece of advice is something you need to hear. Most criminals are untrustworthy evil fools only out for themselves. I know because I was one of them.”

I paused. “You were brainwashed by a cult of Satanists growing up, D. Not to insult your religious beliefs, but they’re in need of insulting. When you’re looking forward to the end of the world, you’re pretty much awful—and I say that for extremist Christian, Cthulhu, and demon-worshiping cults.”

Diabloman didn’t correct me. “Most criminals are, Gary, but you are not. You remind me very much of my sister, Spellbinder.”

“You can call her by her real name,” I said, frowning. “I don’t even know yours.”

“Diabloman is my real name,” Diabloman admitted. “Hector Sanchez may be the name on my license, but it’s just one of a hundred aliases. You, however, are Gary Karkofsky, and Spellbinder . . . Spellbinder was Maria Angela Sanchez. I can never atone for killing her and the Guitarist even if I continued to live for a thousand years. I took something beautiful from the world, and I’m sorry to say part of the reason I sided with you was because I saw the same inner light in you that I saw in her.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. “So, I’m your replacement goldfish?”

“Yes,” Diabloman said. “To a certain extent. However, I have come to love you like the hermano I never had. I’ve teamed up with hundreds of supervillains across the decades, but this is the only group I’ve ever felt at home at. It’s . . . peaceful to know that when I do pass on, it’ll be with having seen you again.”

“Do I have to get some electrical shock paddles? This crazy dying talk is annoying me. I mean, I brought Mandy back from the dead.”

“Do not resurrect me,” Diabloman said, his voice firm. “I saved the world when we killed Zul-Barbas together. I saved it again when I helped you kill President Omega. I’ve failed to do anything about Other Gary and am falling back into old patterns. I would rather go out on a high note, even if I expect nothing but perdition.”

I frowned, wondering where Diabloman got the idea that our group was his atonement. “I dunno, we do kind of know Death personally. I get the impression she’s the person who judges and sorts the good guys from the bad. If Darth Vader can get into Jedi Heaven, I think you can someday see your sister again.”

“You think?” Diabloman said, before starting to choke again. This time the choking didn’t stop and he went into cardiac arrest. Cindy ran in and did her very best to treat him while I was shuffled out. Diabloman survived his attack. Barely. The next time, he probably wouldn’t be so lucky.

Chapter Twelve

WHERE I HAVE A NICE CHAT WITH MY DOPPELGÄNGER

Diabloman would survive, at least for a little while longer, and I spent the rest of the night spending quality time with my family. In the end, I felt drained, since Cindy and Kerri seemed more interested in comforting me about the situation than I was in making a plan to take down Other Gary. Gizmo, at least, was just interested in talking with me about my life.

In the end, everyone went to bed early, including me. Unfortunately, that was no respite since Other Gary was waiting for me on the other side of the sleep’s veil. The jackass was standing in the middle of a massive penthouse boardroom overlooking the whole of Falconcrest City.

The walls were made of smooth reflective black crystal and decorated with portraits of Other Gary and his artificial family. The ground was covered in blood red carpet, and there was a single desk at the end of the chamber standing between two gigantic grandfather clocks—one moving forward, one moving backward. We were obviously at the top of the Merciful Building.

I looked around, then back at him. “I like it. Who does your decorating? Satan? Al Pacino? Al Pacino as Satan?”

“I was going for a John Galt meets art deco meets Doctor Who’s Master thing,” Other Gary said, his joke without mirth. He was going through the motions of being me, and I had to wonder if that was all it took to impersonate me.

“Yes,” Other Gary said, reading my mind. “All I have to do is act like a horny fourteen-year-old playing dress-up, and everyone assumes I’m you. Ooo, Star Wars, ooo video games, ooo comic books.”

“I resent that remark,” I said. “I’m at least a horny twenty-year-old. I knew plenty of jackasses in college who were every bit as lecherous and nerdy as myself.”

Other Gary shook his head. “I have no idea how you’ve managed to survive even a quarter of the things you’ve encountered.”

“It’s one of life’s great mysteries,” I agreed.

“Like why a man as inane and vapid as you attracts an endless parade of beautiful superhumans?”

“Wouldn’t you know?” I asked, curious. “I mean, you had the Betty and Veronica thing with Mandy, Gabrielle, and Cindy back in your world too.”

“That’s three people.”

“Cindy is Jughead, whom I always maintained had a thing for Archie. Honestly, I think he should have given him a chance.”

Other Gary pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can feel myself getting stupider talking to you.”

“You’re welcome.” I pointed to him. “The trick to romance is confidence, caring about your partner, and being very good-looking. Being a white-haired pretty boy is amazingly effective, especially if you keep your mouth shut.”

“Money helps too.”

“Now let’s not be shallow.” I crossed my arms. “In any case, I’m going to now explain in detail why you suck. Expect me to make comparisons to the Transformers, Cobra Commander, and Gundam.”

That was when Other Gary reached out with his hand and telekinetically gripped my throat like a certain iconic cinematic villain I’m not going to name.

“Shut . . . up,” Other Gary said. “Please.”

“‘Kay,” I choked out.

“No more inane banter,” Other Gary said. “This is a serious conversation for serious people.”

“This is a local shop for local people,” I said, struggling for every breath.

Other Gary squeezed harder with his powers.

“This is a counselor’s ship,” I choked out. “We’re on a diplomatic mission.”

Other Gary let go and I fell to the ground. “Why can’t you act like an adult?”

I couldn’t move. “Because . . . you’re an asshole.”

Other Gary sighed. “You remind me of the way I used to be, except a lot more annoying.”

“I can’t imagine why that used to be,” Other Gary said. “Unless you were secretly a hippie protesting Vietnam in your time.”

“I was, actually.”

I blinked. “How would the timeline even work? . . . You know, I don’t even care. I’m probably a war-bonds-gathering sidekick if I go through enough alternate timelines. OK, Tyrant Me, you have five minutes of me not ridiculing you until you choke me like . . . a choky person.”

“I’m here to make you an offer,” Other Gary said. “So that we may have peace.”

“In our time?” I suggested.

Other Gary narrowed his eyes.

“Hey man, you’re the one who allied with the Nazi president and no, I’m not going to let that go.”

Other Gary growled, literally growled. “So that he might fall farther and harder. What we have here is a conflict that could result in the deaths of people you care for.”

“Why do you care about me?” I asked. “You haven’t shown any hesitation in murdering people before. Afraid killing me will qualify as suicide?”

“I could kill you and the others, but I don’t because I’m trying to be the good guy,” Other Gary said.

I snorted. “That is a dumb frigging justification. Not that I want you to kill me. In fact, give all the dumb justifications you want as long they make it easier for me to kill you.”

“The measure of good you can do is often measured by the amount of evil you’re willing to tolerate on the path to it,” Other Gary said. “One man’s hero is another man’s monster. Look at Vlad the Impaler and ask how he appeared to the Romanians.”

“I’ll ask him next time he shows up to bite my friends,” I said. “I’m stopping you, First Citizen, because the people need me to.”

“Please, do not talk like you’re doing this for the people,” Other Gary hissed. It caught me off guard because the anger behind it was tremendous. Far more in excess of any other comment I’d made so far.

“Who else would I be doing this for?” I said. “You’re the tin-pot tyrant ruling over my city.”

“My city.” Other Gary laughed. “Do you know why I’m ruling over Falconcrest City?”

“Because you’re a psychopath? Because you get to be the Man until you get enough energy to rebuild your universe?”

Other Gary smiled. It wasn’t a good look for him. “Partially, but not entirely.”

“I showed you your wife’s ghost. She doesn’t want you to do this.”

Other Gary ignored me. “Do want to know what finally, truly, drove me over the edge? To believe all the things you’ve seen, all the deeds I’ve done, and more are justified?”

“Not really.” I shrugged. “That’s between you, God, and your publicist.”

“The people.” Other Gary said the word as if he were cursing. “The people who elected President Omega and endorsed his campaign of genocide against Supers. Who stood by while he isolated Falconcrest City during the Brotherhood of Infamy’s attack. Who let him kill refugees, abuse immigrants, and wage war across the globe.”

“The people aren’t responsible for President Omega,” I said. “He had mind-control and time-travel—”

“Neither of which he needed to become president,” Other Gary said. “He won the election fairly. They may not have known he was a time-travelling Nazi from the future, but they knew he was a ruthless businessman who would do everything in his power to suppress Supers.”

I stared at him. “That’s . . . democracy, I guess.”

“And when they came for your daughter, Gizmo?” Other Gary said. “For your niece, for your sister?”

“I’d kill them all,” I said. “I never said I was a good guy. I never tried to be.”

“I did,” Other Gary said, his voice low and soft. “After my universe was destroyed and I saw you were living my life—I followed you for years, by the way—I spent my time walking the earth.”

“Like Caine in Kung Fu,” I said.

“We’ll let that reference slide. Because, really, it’s not a bad comparison,” Other Gary said. “I healed the sick, cleaned up environmental disasters, provided comfort to the traumatized, and used my Life-granted powers to make the world a better place. I was driven by the belief that, even if it wasn’t my world, this was a world worth saving.”

“And electing President Omega ruined your life forever,” I said. “Not really bowling me over with your logic, OG. I mean, we have checks and balances for a reason—not that they did much good with him.”

Other Gary got a haunted look in his face. “It was something a bit more traumatic.”

I paused. “You tortured me for five years. I’m not in the mood to be your confessor.”

“Go with it, and I will free a thousand prisoners,” Other Gary said.

“Go ahead,” I said, wondering why he felt the need to share it with me, of all people.

“Perhaps you are the only person he thinks would understand,” Cloak said.

“Shut up,” I said. “Really.”

“I was living in a trailer park with a migrant family,” Other Gary said, his voice low. “Trying to stay off the grid and keep out of the way of the other heroes. I’ve always felt they’ve wasted too much of their time fighting villains when they could be putting their efforts into better causes. The mother of the group, Sofia, was lovely, and I admit to developing a fondness for her that troubled me. I shouldn’t have been able to put aside my grief, even for a moment, but I did. I learned to love her and her daughters as if they were my own.”

“I take it this story doesn’t end with a breakup over your favorite TV show,” I said.

“No,” Other Gary said, growling. “After the election, some drunken fools drove into the place and threw Molotov cocktails into the camp. They were exuberant from Omega’s victory and believed that he would strike at illegal immigrants as well as Supers. Which he did, mind you. I was shopping for groceries when I returned to find the place ablaze and most of the camp dead. The tragedy was ruled an accident. After all, the sheriff was one of said drunken fools.”

I stared at him. “I’m sorry.”

“I killed those people and I used the energy from their deaths to raise Sofia and her daughters . . . or tried to. It didn’t work well because I was inexperienced with necromancy. Life, however, was kind to me and shared the secret of how to bring back the dead with the deaths of others. She also showed me just what would happen with President Omega.”

I stared at him. “Different from starting World War Three and getting twelve million people killed?”

“It was originally five billion,” Other Gary said. “President Omega thought I made sure his plan could go through, but the truth was, he didn’t need me. Ultragod refused to overthrow a democratically elected Chief of State until it was too late. When he finally was ready to move, his wife was already dead and he was not in the right head space. President Omega killed Ultragod and the rest of the heroes before his century-long reign of terror.”

“So, you just helped him do his twice and reversed time,” I said. “Instead of, you know, stopping him!”

I didn’t even bring up the fact that Other Gary was the one who killed Ultragod in this timeline. He was the one who had eliminated the world’s greatest superhero. Death had told me it wasn’t Ultragod’s time either, which meant Other Gary had seriously misread the situation, or he was lying to himself as well as to me.

Other Gary’s eyes became cold. “Mankind put that monster in power. They needed to be punished for their choice. Even as I gathered all that energy from their deaths, I was making sure they paid the full consequences for their sins. They put President Omega in power, and even if their conscious minds don’t remember, their souls will.”

“Never mind the people who voted for the other candidate,” I muttered. “So, what, you saw he was going to win so you helped him win? Yes, that’s such a great defense.”

Other Gary looked down. “You may not believe it, but my actions are justified. I will rebuild my universe, but first, I’m going to give this world what it needs: direction. The millions who died in World War Three have already had more than their number saved. I’ve redrawn the world map and placed the superheroes in power. Soon, we will have a world directed by those who are genuinely good rather than politically powerful or rich.”

I snorted. “And screw freedom.”

“What use is freedom if people use it to hurt others?” Other Gary said. “Rulership belongs in the hands of the worthy.”

“Which you qualify as, despite your statement that you want to punish the world for not voting the way you wanted them to as it tangentially related to a personal tragedy.”

“Gary—”

“Don’t even try to justify it. People may suck, but you’re worse.”

Other Gary raised an eyebrow. “Please. How many thousands of people have died, even millions, because you decided to play supervillain instead of using your powers for good?”

“I saved the world twice,” I snapped.

“Did you? Or is that just what you tell yourself?”

Other Gary’s words turned my stomach because they struck at one of my biggest personal fears: that I hadn’t done anything with my powers. Mandy had been the one fighting against the Brotherhood of Infamy during the city’s zombie apocalypse, and Gabrielle had been leading the charge against President Omega. I’d been the one to finally put down President Evil McEvilPants, but it had only been because of Diabloman’s sacrifice. What, exactly, had I done with my powers other than kill a bunch of people and rob others?

“Don’t listen to him, Gary,” Cloak said, surprising me with his presence. “He’s mani—”

Other Gary snapped his fingers and Cloak went silent.

“What did you do?” I asked.

“I made him sleep,” Other Gary explained. “Probably the first time he’s had a chance to rest since his death. Now, please, hear my offer out.”

“Save it,” I said. “There’s not a damn thing you can offer me that I would be interested in.”

“A safe place,” Other Gary said. “For you and your loved ones.”

I opened my mouth to speak before closing it.

Other Gary smiled. “Being a father changes things, doesn’t it? I, too, had children.”

“Yeah, I saw your robots,” I said.

Other Gary frowned. “They are just reminders. Dolls in the shape of the dead.”

“Do they know that?”

Other Gary ignored me. “I want to offer you a ticket, if you will, out of this reality. You, Mandy, Cindy, Gizmo, Amanda, and a healed Diabloman will depart from this universe into a nearly identical one without me. It will have all the superheroes and villains of this world, but no doppelgängers of you or me. You’ll be able to rob and steal to your heart’s content without ever having to think of this world again.”

“You’ll forgive me if I find this sudden burst of generosity suspicious,” I said. “You know, what with keeping me imprisoned and tortured for five years.”

“Undertown was designed to be a gilded cage.” Other Gary sneered at my ignorance. “It was identical to the neighborhood I lived in, with robots designed to do your bidding. Frankly, I was surprised you didn’t have the place a Roman orgy within a week.”

“A gilded cage is still . . . you know, I don’t know why I even bother arguing with you. I’ve had conversations with internet trolls that were more productive. Nothing I say is going to change your mind about anything.”

“No,” Other Gary said. “However, think about what I’m giving you. Diabloman will die unless my power heals him. I also know where your little underground base is. I’ve always known. It fits my plans to let resistance to my reign fester until I smack it down.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You’d threaten a place where my daughter is?”

Other Gary closed his eyes. “I’d threaten a place where Cindy is. Where Mandy is. Where—”

I punched him in the face and sent him falling backward.

Other Gary’s nose bled. He pinched it and laughed. “You have a chance to keep your family safe and avoid my fate. Because really, who are you fighting for? Because it’s not the people. They’ve already asked me to run for president. The only reason I won’t is because I’m already drafting the plans for the one-world government. I plan to put the bill through during the finals of the next reality-TV-show craze.”

“I won’t accept your offer.”

“You will,” Other Gary said. “Because if you don’t by tomorrow at noon, I’m going to kill everyone you care about, and we both know you’ll do anything to protect them.”

With that, Other Gary was gone.

And I awoke.

Chapter Thirteen

MUSINGS ON THE LOSS OF FRIENDS AND LOVE

I woke up on the couch of the Crystal Palace’s lounge, staring up at the ceiling even as Other Gary’s words echoed in my mind. I was wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt that Mister Inventor’s machines had generated for me. He had a whole big replicator system down here, which made me wonder if Other Gary really was releasing all the science he was claiming to.

Getting up, my primary thoughts were about his offer. The chance to just leave this reality with my loved ones and forget it all. Was I willing to take it?

Hell no.

Still, I couldn’t say I wasn’t tempted. There was nothing like five years of being a prisoner in not only your body but also your mind to let you know you weren’t invincible. I’d successfully killed the worst president since Andrew Jackson and brought an end to World War II, only to get smacked down within seconds.

Honestly, the biggest thing preventing me from picking up my ball and going home was that none of the others would go for it. Mandy wanted revenge; I could tell that by the subtle tics in her movement. Amanda also wanted revenge; she said so. Gabrielle was missing, and I wasn’t about to leave her behind until I knew what was happening. Cindy?

Well, Cindy would go if she could stuff her picnic basket full of gold or diamonds. Diabloman couldn’t go since he was dying and the only thing that might save him was Other Gary’s reservoir of magic. I didn’t know this Mister Inventor Guy well enough to say what he’d do, but I suspected any man willing to go against the Society of Superheroes on moral grounds wasn’t likely to cut and run.

“I don’t think you’re likely to run either, Gary,” Cloak said, in my head.

“I’m a father now,” I said. “Like you said, that changes everything.”

Cloak was silent.

Picking up a black bathrobe with a big M on the back, I put it on and walked down the hall, looking for Mandy. Vampires didn’t really sleep, contrary to the whole coffin myth, and mostly just hibernated when they weren’t eating. One decent thing about Undertown was there were plenty of people who enjoyed being snacked on. That was probably the only thing I liked about the place since, for whatever reason, biting wasn’t one of my kinks. The aftermath? Yes. The actual throat gnawing? Not so much.

Much to my surprise, I found the robot-manned kitchen and Amanda instead. Amanda was sitting in a pair of house shorts with a goth Hello Kitty shirt on and her hair tied in pigtails. She was eating a bowl of cereal with Guinevere on as the mascot.

“Hey, Gary,” Amanda said. “Having trouble sleeping?”

“You could say that,” I said, looking through a half-dozen bags of imported expensive coffees as well as hand-ground beans for the cheapest strongest coffee Mister Inventor had. I then started making myself a cup, since he didn’t have a coffee pot but one of those Keurig things. “My bastard self from another reality said I should take you guys to another reality or he’ll attack this place tomorrow.”

Amanda stopped mid-spoonful. “Does he know where we are?”

“Yeah, probably,” I said. “I don’t think he ever didn’t. He’s a smug bastard that way.”

“Dammit,” Amanda said.

I started making my coffee. “It’s not a bad idea if we want to be like Klingons and stick to the exact letter of our agreement. We could go to the other reality, get a bunch of heroes or villains together, then beat the shit out of him later.”

Amanda frowned. “I don’t think exile is an option.”

“Then just evacuate anyone we care about,” I said.

“I wish I’d done that earlier,” Amanda muttered.

“So, what was Wyatt like?” I asked.

“Wyatt Patterson.” Amanda shrugged. “A regular ordinary human being. Not a superhero or villain. Not rich either.”

“Because I’d love for my girlfriend to open my posthumous description like that. Gary Karkofsky wasn’t a particularly smart, nice, or capable man. He didn’t succeed very often, but he was good-looking, and that’s really what counts in life.”

Amanda gave a gallows laugh. “Wyatt was smart, talented, and good in bed. Galahad was all of those things too, but I guess I wanted a part of my life away from the crazy.”

I finished making my cup of coffee and tasted it. Ah, bitter and black like my heart. “Yet you ended up pulling him into your resistance.”

“Yes,” Amanda said. “I got him killed.”

“You sure he’s dead?” I asked.

“Yes,” Amanda said. “I am. That’s why I went to Undertown. I didn’t have anything else to lose.”

“You always have something more to lose,” I said. “I learned that when I thought Mandy had died.”

“But you never gave up trying to get her back,” Amanda said. “You made it work.”

“Did I?” I said, sipping my drink. “So, what are you thinking?”

“That I feel guilty having slept with Galahad,” Amanda muttered, confirming a suspicion I’d had upon seeing her. “When I should be mourning. Also, I’m considering your offer.”

“Emotions are complex,” I said. “Besides, I didn’t exactly cover myself in glory with my awesome plan of going up to the First Citizen’s front door and trying to knock it down.”

Amanda stared at me. “Yet you also got us linked up with the only other resistance group I know of. You have the luck of the Irish, Gary.”

“First, my family is Polish, and second, the Irish have luck nearly as bad as the Jewish,” I said. “Which I don’t use as a comparison lightly.”

“My family is Japanese and Caucasian,” Amanda said. “My bastard dad married a model when he made his million—which I lost.”

“We’ll steal it back,” I said simply. “We’ll also fix Diabloman, save the world, and live lives of decadent luxury like the dwarves once they murdered Smaug.”

“Most of the dwarves died,” Amanda said.

“Which is why Tolkien is awesome,” I said, finishing my coffee. “He doesn’t sugarcoat these things. When people get into combat, people die. How was peace achieved among the elves, dwarves, and humans? By giving them someone else to hate. Hell, want me to blow your mind? The goblins were in the right. They were after a bunch of murderous assassins who killed their king. The Great Goblin hadn’t threatened the dwarves either until they discovered Thorin’s group had racist elven swords of minority killing.”

Amanda stared at me. “It’s reached the point where you’re starting to sound wise to me. That’s how depressed I am.”

“Since you’re foolishly listening to me, let me give you another piece of advice.” I took a deep breath. “Don’t ever feel guilty for taking what happiness you have in this world.”

Amanda gave a half smile. “Mandy is down the hall, by the way, if you’re looking for her.”

“Thanks.” I gave her a kiss on the forehead, then put my cup down.

“You’re a good man, Gary. I don’t understand how one of you became the First Citizen.”

“Don’t overthink it,” I said. “Other Gary tried to be a good man and became a very bad wizard. I’m a very bad man. I just am a very good wizard.”

“Are you quoting that James Franco movie?” Amanda asked.

“You’re dead to me.”

Mandy was the only person still up in the palace. She was in the security room in a large chair set before a group of monitors. It was an expansive chamber with hundreds of screens showing scenes from all over the city in real time, as well as a few set to the various news agencies. CNN talked about how the last supervillain incident had happened months ago, with the one today at the Merciful Building being a false alarm.

“What are you doing?” I asked, walking in.

Fox News was having an interview with Sovi-Ape (now Ameri-Ape), who had the same glassy stare as some of the people brainwashed in Undertown. Sovi-Ape was discussing how meeting Merciful had changed his life and how he’d devoted his life to constructing life-saving sciences for the good of all. The local news was reporting a cat that had learned how to walk on two legs. So really, not everything had changed in this Brave New World.

“Trying to figure out a strategy for dealing with Other Gary,” Mandy said, picking up a white box of Chinese food and eating a forkful of rice.

“What are you eating?”

“Maggots. I’m eating maggots,” Mandy said, turning around. I could feel her mental influence brush against my brain. Thankfully, I pushed past it.

I stared at her. “Mind tricks don’t work on me. Only kisses.”

Mandy smiled and leaned up to kiss me on the lips, then pulled away. “Did you have a good time with Cindy and your daughter?”

“Yes,” I said. “We caught up on all the Star Wars movies we missed. Also, we’re set to watch the live-action version of Cthulhu Armageddon. Felicity Jones, Katee Sackhoff, and Idris Elba are the heroes, with David Warner as the villain. It’s past Gizmo’s bedtime, though, so Cindy went off to tuck her in before getting some shut-eye herself.”

“Impressive,” Mandy said. “So, you didn’t have sex?”

I stared at her. “You know I’m not actually comfortable with cheating on you, right?”

“Unless I’m a soulless monster wandering around town, killing people.”

“Yes, exactly.”

Mandy shrugged. “I’m two hundred years old, Gary. I’ve been married to versions of you and Cindy. Just understand that if you want a relationship with another woman, I might too. Or another man. Also, if we’re going to construct harem chambers for slaves, then we’ll pick them out together.”

“I’m really hoping you’re kidding, as otherwise, you’ve slipped further into the Dark Lord role than I have.”

“All will love me and despair.” Mandy smirked. “I still believe in doing the right thing, but the past two centuries have been murder on my idealism. I understand, now, that we don’t live in the kind of four-color world I thought we did, but a much more dark and cynical one. It just had the garish colors of a comic book with a much seedier underbelly.”

I paused, finally getting enough will up to ask. “Are you still the same Mandy I love? I mean, you’ve spent most of your life without me. In another time and another place. I mean, this is really strange to me.”

Mandy looked over her shoulder at me. “Gary, you were the one constant in the war against President Omega. While I was fighting against the earth’s dictator, all I could rely on was you. Everyone else here I know and treasure as well, even if they’re not precisely the same people I knew. They’re close enough for me.”

I blinked. “Wow, that’s really insulting.”

Mandy shook her head. “You should take it as a compliment. I’m here, after all, working with you to bring down an empire.”

“Empires are bad,” I said. “Pretty much by definition.”

Mandy stared at the streets. “Our politics have always been different, Gary. You grew up among the poor and disadvantaged of New Angeles, while I was a daughter of a military family from Falconcrest City’s upper middle class. I’ve always believed the world needed a strong firm hand from those smart enough to know the truth of how the world worked. Administrating the human race’s future is something the smartest and wisest should do rather than the multitudes.”

I stared at her. “Careful, Mandy. You’re channeling your inner fascist.”

“Other Gary and the Society of Superheroes are doing a spectacular job with the limited democracy enforced here in the United States,” Mandy said. “The Foundation for World Harmony has the authority it needs to dismantle crime as well as threats to civilization. Technology and the basic standard of living are on the rise. Medicine, education, and a living wage are not issues.”

“All it required was to ignore the people in the prisons and underfoot.”

“That’s how all societies work,” Mandy said. “In any case, we can improve the lives of the bottom rungs of society once we take over.”

“Once we what now?”

“In any case, I’ve found Other Gary’s weakness.” Mandy put away her Chinese food, then typed on the keyboard in front of her. I wondered how Mandy ate regular food as a vampire and how she’d managed to get it a hundred miles below the earth’s surface, but then decided it didn’t matter.

I did a double take. “Eh? Just like that?”

An image of an old abandoned power plant appeared on the computer screens in front of us.

“There’s only one person who knows him better than me—you,” Mandy said. “I just had to think about what you’d do if you didn’t always hold yourself back.”

“Are you sure you’re not Anti-Mandy? You’re coming off like my own personal Lana Beniko, here.”

“Who?”

I tried some other options. “Mara Jade? Ada Wong? Fiona Vulpe? The Baroness from G.I. Joe?”

Mandy rolled her eyes. “Just look.”

Mandy continued typing until all the screens showed a single image of an abandoned coal power plant that was marked for condemnation. Metal fences surrounded it and there were numerous other abandoned buildings around it. Even so, there were things about it that didn’t quite sit right.

“Let me guess—this was made to look like crap because it contains something important,” I said.

“Yes, I think so,” Mandy said. “It’s the only part of Falconcrest City there’s been no work on for the past five years, except there are signs that a massive amount of work was done on it. It’s also centrally located over a collection of ley lines linking all the locations for Other Gary’s crystal towers and the power network he’s set up across the East coast. It’s the source of the free electricity he’s given the United States.”

I stared at her. “He’s using life-force to power the country?”

“I don’t think so,” Mandy said. “I think he’s just storing whatever is powering the East coast in the same place he’s keeping the necromantic energy he’s collecting. I can’t say what that would—”

“Gabrielle,” I said.

“What?” Mandy said.

“How do you keep the Woman of Titanium imprisoned without killing her?” I said. “You keep her drained of power indefinitely.”

Mandy blinked. “He wouldn’t.”

“It’s what I would do,” I said. “If I was a complete monster.”

“Son of a bitch,” Mandy said. “He loved his version of Gabrielle, though, didn’t he?”

“Other Gary doesn’t love any of us,” I said simply. “To him, we’re all just pale imitations of the people he loved. Still, that power plant is perfect as a target. If we can destroy the place, maybe we can release all that energy or use it against him.”

“It won’t be that easy.”

I slumped my shoulders. “It never is.”

“I hacked into Other Gary’s database to divert some of his drones for a scan before crashing them.” Mandy frowned, looking deep in thought. “What I saw indicates the place is crawling with laser implants and has a good . . . oh, thousand robots guarding it.”

“Great,” I said. “Let me guess, the place is also rigged to explode like Undertown.”

“Probably.” Mandy looked back at me again. “We need an army to take this place down.”

I stared at the place. “I know where to get one.”

Chapter Fourteen

WHERE WE HEAD TO CLUB INFERNO

So, just so we’re clear, you want to go recruit an army of supervillains to help. This is a stupid plan,” Mandy said, walking behind me as we sneaked through the allies of Falconcrest City’s Undeveloped District. The moon was high in the air, just barely visible through clouds that obscured the city skyline to our right.

“Are any of his plans ever not stupid?” Amanda asked, following behind. All three of us were wearing black hoodies and black blue jeans, which was about the cheapest approximation of ninja outfits you could possibly make, but served as decent camouflage and simultaneously made us look harmless.

The Undeveloped District was right on the edge of the factory where Mandy believed Other Gary kept his magical reservoir. It was the part of Falconcrest City that hadn’t been demolished and replaced by futuristic skyscrapers or technology. The place looked exceptionally crowded. Hundreds of century-old buildings were packed to the rim with people who hadn’t yet been “relocated” to new housing or were simply trying to stay out of the new regime’s way.

A curfew had been instituted in the place per various signs; drones flew overhead, while military robots patrolled the streets. There was nothing quite like treating the streets like a warzone to make people feel safe. We’d passed a homeless guy who’d been gunned down and tagged for collection.

“Where are you even going to find an army of supervillains?” Amanda asked. “Most of them are dead, brainwashed, or imprisoned in places they can’t get out of. Which is an accomplishment by itself.”

“I suspect more supervillains are free than the public or Other Gary realizes,” I said. “One advantage we have over my doppelgänger is the fact that he’s always been a hero. He doesn’t have connections to the quote-unquote criminal underworld. He can hit it with the fury of his big fascist hammer—”

“That sounds like a euphemism,” Mandy said.

“It’s not,” I said, clinging to the walls of the alleyways as we struggled to stay out of the well-patrolled streets. “But he can’t actually know where all of the bolt holes and secrets are, which your average smart supervillain might. Places they could go that would allow them to hold out until things cooled down.”

“Like where?” Amanda said.

“Club Inferno,” I said.

“You’re right, this is a stupid plan,” Amanda said. “Gary, I’d ask you if you’re insane, but that’s like asking whether water is wet.”

“For those of us newly returned to this century?” Mandy asked.

“Club Inferno is a myth,” Amanda said. “A sort of ghost story for the cowardly and—”

“Superior lot,” I finished for her.

Amanda rolled her eyes. “It’s a kind of . . . God, I hate to do this, but I have to make a Star Wars reference—”

“Give into the Dark Side,” I said.

“Oh, shut up!” Amanda snapped, struggling not to smile. “Club Inferno is kind of a Mos Eisley for the powered underworld. It’s an extra-dimensional club supposedly carved from hell itself. The place provides every kind of pleasure imaginable. It also gives villains replacements for lost equipment.”

“It gives equipment?” Mandy asked, watching a huge four-legged tank walk by. It was surrounded by red, white, and blue armored troopers who looked like President Omega’s Darklight troopers, only with a paint job.

Amanda waited for them to pass by before responding. “Yes. It’s like a kind of living nightclub and supply house for evil. It doesn’t exist, though. It’s a rumor to cover—”

“I’ve been there,” I said. “On many occasions.”

Amanda closed her eyes. “Of course you have.”

“So, I never tried to recruit people here in the previous two timelines?” I asked Mandy.

Mandy shook her head. “No. Then again, maybe that was because President Omega left most of this city rubble during the opening hours of the war.”

“Ouch,” I said, grimacing.

“Is it like what she says?” Mandy asked. “It seems like the kind of place you’d be at home at.”

“It’s less Mos Eisley than Studio 54. Every pleasure imaginable indeed. The place rewards the wicked in accordance with the evil in your heart. I don’t think it’s a fragment of hell. I think it’s a demon that just so happens to take the form of a place.”

“Going there was a mistake,” Cloak said.

“Says you,” I mentally replied.

“How much did it give you?” Amanda asked, cutting to the heart of a conversation.

“Enough,” I replied. “It would have offered me more, but I was trying to resurrect Mandy. If I’d been trying to murder someone or kill everyone in Delaware, I imagine it would have given me a lot more.”

“Why would it help us then?” Amanda said, shaking her head.

“We’re trying to kill a guy who has brought order, stability, and prosperity to the world,” I said, shrugging. “I imagine it’s willing to give us whatever we need to kill Other Gary.”

“What?” Amanda said, stopping. “That’s . . . that’s ridiculous! He’s a tyrant!”

I shrugged. “One man’s villain is another man’s hero.”

“Bullshit,” Amanda said. “How are we supposed to find this place anyway?”

I looked at her. “We’re here, actually.”

Amanda stared at me. “What’s next, speak friend for open?”

“No,” I said, “though you’re getting the hang of this referencing thing. If we’re genuinely doing wrong, then the door will open here.”

“Well, that’s not likely to happen.” Amanda snorted. “We’re in the right fighting him.”

That was when the walls of the alleyway started to pull apart, revealing a red light beyond.

Amanda stared at the walls, then slumped her shoulders. “Goddammit.”

The walls continued to open . . . very slowly.

“Is it supposed to be taking its time like this?” Mandy asked, looking over at me.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Entrance into Diagon Alley isn’t immediate. The worst things come to those who wait and all that. That and we’re also bringing a—bleh—hero into the place.”

“Me or Amanda?” Mandy said.

“Yes,” I said.

Mandy looked away while Amanda stared at the ground, clearly uncomfortable with this latest development.

“This place looks familiar,” Mandy said, looking behind us at the building next to Club Inferno. It was an old garment factory and didn’t look particularly interesting, yet from her reaction, it was someplace important.

“Are you OK?” I said, walking up to her and placing my hand on her shoulder.

Mandy ran her hands along the graffiti-covered brick wall of the building. “I remember this place as it will never be.”

“What?” I asked.

Mandy took a deep breath. “This is the place Howler Squad met its end fighting the Fifth Regiment of the Death Legion. They ended up killing seventy times their number using a combination of stolen mines and hologram projectors. Even so, it wasn’t enough to hold Omega’s forces back, and the village they’d been guarding was massacred to the last child.”

“OK, that’s dark,” I said.

Amanda swatted me.

“Perhaps,” Mandy said. “I can’t help but feel for the people who have no one but me to remember them now, because they’ll never even exist. Children whose parents and grandparents never met because they grew up as the scattered survivors of a world in flames. They paid the ultimate sacrifice and I can’t even recall their names.”

“They have a memorial,” I said, taking a deep breath.

“Me? A bloodthirsty monster?”

“This world,” I said. “They were soldiers who fought and won a peace.”

Mandy stared at me, then looked up in the sky as a drone flew past us, scanning the streets. We just barely managed to move out of the way of its beam.

“OK, it’s a shitty peace, but it’s better than President Jackboot,” I said. “You’ve got to give me that.”

Mandy laughed. “I suppose I do. Do you ever wonder about who you might have been? You were a leader of men in the New World. When the last of the governments was dissolved and humanity’s resistance was all but broken, you rallied us all.”

“I bet you did a better job than me,” I said.

Mandy shook her head. “I’m a vampire, Gary. I can’t lead. I spied, assassinated, sabotaged, and seduced, but I never led.”

“Well, I suppose we can be glad I never have to lead in this world either,” I said. “Look at what Other Gary has done.”

Mandy stared. “He’s managed to guide the entire planet. Imagine what you could do with your friends beside you.”

The entrance to Club Inferno started opening much faster. It was almost completely open now.

“Fuck up things worse?” Amanda offered.

I glared at her.

“What?” Amanda said. “The club agrees.”

“Does it bother you?” Mandy asked, looking over at me.

“What?” I asked.

“I’m never going to change, Gary,” Mandy said, frowning. “I’m always going to be the woman I am today, who isn’t quite the woman you married. A woman caught between the urges of a monster and someone who failed as a hero. You can grow old, have a family, have children, or change your life, but I’m . . . stuck.”

“I love you, Mandy,” I said simply. “I love Cindy and Gizmo, but not the same way. I love you. I searched the world for a way to bring you back, and if not for the fact that he’s an enormous asshole, I’d have let my doppelgänger go for bringing you back to me. I don’t care about you being a vampire, and you’re not a failed superhero. You and Cloak are the reason I’m not that thing ruling this city.”

The entrance to Club Inferno started to close.

“You stay out of this!” I snapped at the door. “You do not want to piss me off! I will burn this city to the ground to get at you.”

The entrance opened fully.

“You’re the reason I’m not tearing open random people,” Mandy said. “I draw strength from our bond to keep the Hunger at bay. Even at my worst as a vampire, a part of me still loved you and wanted to keep killing only the evildoers. Now that I can feel love again, I can hold it down. Granted, just barely.”

“That’s . . . terrifying,” Amanda said.

“I find it romantic,” I said. “Sort of like how Edward devoured Bella after she followed him into the woods as a willing sacrifice to his ravenous thirst.”

“That’s not how Twilight went,” Amanda said.

“Is it? Is it really?” I said, smiling.

“You shouldn’t trust Mandy,” Cloak said.

“Careful, Cloak. I’m never going to choose Mandy over anyone else. Not you, not Diabloman, not even Cindy—” I projected at Cloak.

“What about your daughter?” Cloak said.

My response was to project a feeling of cold, hateful malevolence at Cloak. That was a low blow and one that made me want to reach into the astral plane and punch him. “You heard Mandy. She’s still the same person she was two centuries ago. She can’t change and that’s a good thing.”

“Vampires are deceptive creatures. You desperately wish to turn back the clock to the point before she became one of the undead. I appreciate this now, but what she says—”

“Shut up, Cloak,” I said, walking through the entrance. “I trust my wife.”

Mandy did a double take and gave a harsh glare to my cloak. “Trouble with your friend?”

I shrugged as Amanda followed. Beyond the doorway was a long circular black stone hallway that had windows along its sides looking out to a massive, brightly burning inferno. I was sure the conflagration beyond wasn’t firewater, since I could feel the heat coming up through the stones. The hallway led to a single metal door with a neon sign reading “Club Inferno” in fuchsia letters. Behind us, the entrance closed back up, leaving us no way to go but forward.

While our surroundings were strange, it was the feeling I got from them that was the most unsettling part of our journey. My mystic senses were only slightly better than your typical Muggle’s (and, man, do actual wizards hate when you call regular people that), but I could feel the power radiating outward. Unlike the energy stored in Other Gary’s towers, I could reach out and take some of the power without if I used it for selfish purposes.

Reaching the metal door, I knocked on it with my fist. “I solemnly swear I’m up to no good.”

“Jesus, Gary,” Amanda muttered.

The entire place shook a bit.

“Yeah, don’t mention that guy,” I said. “You also shouldn’t mention Buddha, Muhammed, Moses, Luke Skywalker, Link, Mario, Santa, Lao-Tzu, the Easter Bunny, or Commander Shepard.”

The club rumbled. Apparently, it didn’t appreciate my warning any more than Amanda’s invocation of her god. I turned around and flipped the club off with both my hands.

“Gary, what are you doing?” Amanda said.

“Being an ass,” I said.

“Well, I suppose it is what you do best,” Amanda muttered.

Mandy, I kid you not, giggled at that.

There was another rumbling throughout the chamber that sounded distinctly like laughter. The metal door promptly swung open and I headed on in. What greeted me was a dimly-lit lobby and ticket center where six garishly dressed supervillains were waiting for me, as well as one woman in a suit of power-armor. The Human Tank was over six feet tall with the armor modified from the last time I’d seen her. She was also aiming a massive arm-cannon at me.

“You were an idiot to come here.” A deep female voice greeted me. “Prepare to die, Merciful.”

Huh, I should have seen this coming.

Chapter Fifteen

THE STATE OF THE SUPERVILLAIN UNION

“Must I?” I asked, raising my hands. “Because I’d prefer to live.”

The Human Tank’s helmet retracted, revealing the brown-haired woman beneath. “This is no laughing matter.”

“I laugh in the face of Death,” I said. “Well, not really, because she’s really done well by me.”

Clarissa Montehaven (formerly David Stockwell), a.k.a The Human Tank, was someone I didn’t want to fight. Not only because she’d been one of the people who’d helped fight against President Omega as part of the Shadow Seven, but also because I had known her longer than Cindy and Mandy put together.

Not well, but she’d been part of my brother’s gang, the Nefarious Nine, which was one of the more longstanding supervillain “clubs.” Clarissa had broken with the group not long after my brother’s death and had embarked on a successful solo career before trying to reform. She was also looking good for a woman pushing fifty, still sporting the Linda Hamilton look. Compliments to her surgeon. Maybe there was something to Cloak’s claim that superheroes and villains didn’t age until they did.

“There isn’t,” Cloak said. “I just made that up. The Society of Superheroes and Fraternity of Supervillains just have longevity spells as perks.”

“Nice to know,” I said, waiting for them to make the first move. Mandy and Amanda had moved into attack position, and I was more worried about them than I was Clarissa or her crew. Mostly because we were here to recruit an army. Not kill more of Falconcrest City’s supervillain population.

“Do you recognize any of these guys?” I mentally asked Cloak.

“No,” Cloak said. “Which could be good or bad.”

Falconcrest City’s collection of supervillains had been all but wiped out between our miniature zombie apocalypse and Mandy’s subsequent bloodthirst-driven rampage. These were all out-of-towners who’d been unable to cut it in their hometowns or newbies, which meant I could probably mop the floor with them.

Mandy, however, stepped in front of me. “Clarissa, put that gun down or I swear I will rip off your arm and shove it up your thermal exhaust port.”

“Mandy?” Clarissa said. “He’s made a robot of you too?”

Amanda glared. “This isn’t Merciful; it’s Merciless.”

A man dressed in a polka-dot leotard with a glowing eye-visor pointed at me. “Like it matters! You made a big mistake coming her—oh my god, my foot is on fire! Help! Oh shit, Christ, help! Oh god, now it’s frozen!”

The next supervillain, a woman dressed in a 1950s bubble-topped astronaut’s suit, aimed her ray gun at me only for Amanda to knock it out of her hand with a moon-shaped boomerang.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with,” Amanda said. “Yesterday, I let a bunch of decent people die to rescue these two. You have no idea what lengths I’ll go to in order to protect them.”

That was when Clarissa blasted Mandy with a concentrated blast of sunlight and caused her to smash against the wall behind me.

“Sunlight actually doesn’t work on vampires,” I said. “It’s annoying and makes them grouchy, but it doesn’t actually do anything.”

Then I looked at Mandy’s face, which was half-burned off and now regenerating. She looked really pissed off. Her fangs were jutting out and her claws were extending. I was pretty sure she was going to kill everybody here and that would defeat the purpose of coming here to recruit a supervillain army.

I turned intangible as a six-armed guy with a spider-costume jumped on me, followed by a samurai woman with a glowing katana that turned out not to be enchanted save to glow, and a guy who just made pew-pew gestures with his fingers at me. He was wearing a t-shirt that said “I’M THE STUPIDIFIER.” I was worried about that guy.

I took a deep breath. “Clarissa, it’s me. Other Gary kidnapped and imprisoned me after the attack on President Omega’s base. We’re kind of friendly, we both like Gabrielle, and you really, really love football despite it being a dumb sport.”

“You shut your mouth!” Amanda said, lifting the spider guy over her head. “You have no right to complain with all the useless crap you love.”

Clarissa switched over her arm cannon to a setting I suspected would be able to hit me in my intangible form. “I don’t believe you.”

I closed my eyes. “My brother, Keith, and you had an affair that left him really, really confused. It’s part of the reason he was going straight.”

Everyone stopped at that.

Clarissa stared at me then, scrunched up her face in horror. “Why the hell would you just announce that!?”

“Because you’re shooting at me and my wife!” I snapped. “The other option is just killing you.”

“My goddamn foot!” the polka dot guy said.

“I am going easy on you, pal!” I snapped. “Also, what’s your codename? I’m not getting a theme here with the helmet and leotard.”

“I’m the Polka Dot Zapper!” he proclaimed.

I blinked. “OK, that’s not a name that has any theme. Do you zap polka dots? Project them as like a laser-targeting sight, or what?”

“I’d answer but I need a doctor!” Polka Dot Zapper said.

“Quit whining,” Clarissa said, looking about ready to slug him. “Archanodude, Robot Samurai Girl, take him down to the Painful Nurse for healing.”

They lifted the Polka Dot Zapper and dragged him away, leaving only a fragment of her original group. That was when Mandy stepped through me and looked ready to rip the Human Tank in two, which I fully believed she could do.

“Down girl,” I said. “Clarissa is probably a friend now.”

“I want to rip open her throat and gorge on the blood as her heart pumps it in my face,” Mandy said.

“I suspect the demon inside Club Inferno is affecting her,” Cloak said. “Evil magic calls to evil magic.”

I wanted to conjure Cloak’s spirit so I could punch him in the nose.

I took a deep breath. “Mandy, please don’t kill the Human Tank. You can beat her within an inch of her life later.”

“Hang on,” Clarissa said.

“No buts,” I said, raising my hand. “We have more important things to talk about.”

“Like the fact that he’s here to recruit a supervillain army to take down Other Gary’s power plant, which he believes is powered by Ultragoddess,” the Stupidifier said.

“How did you know that?” I asked.

“My power is actually telepathy,” the Stupidifer said. “It makes—”

Amanda broke his jaw with one punch and sent him spiraling on the ground.

“What the hell!?” Clarissa said.

“Operational security,” Amanda said. “Keep him away from us.”

I looked at her. “We’re trying to convince her we’re legitimate.”

“Operational security protects You-Know-Who,” Amanda said.

“Voldemort?” I asked.

The Stupidifier crawled away, presumably to the Painful Nurse.

“Your daughter,” Mandy said, once he was out of sight.

“You have a daughter?” Clarissa said.

I glared at Amanda and Mandy. “Nice job, you two. Brilliant. The best way to keep telepaths out of your head is to not think of stuff you’re trying to hide. You instead think of inane stuff that no one cares about it until they get bored and leave.”

Mandy stood there, shaking until she finally pulled back her fangs and claws. “I’d say that would give you an impossible advantage over them, but there’s like six on Earth, so it’s not much of an ability.”

“Seven,” I said. “Mention my daughter to anyone, Clarissa, and I will kill you. Friend of my brother’s or not.”

I was deadly serious.

From her reaction, Clarissa believed me. “You have my word as a former member of the Shadow Seven, I will not betray your trust.”

“What happened to the team?” Mandy said, her hands shaking.

I put my hand on her shoulder. She grabbed it and bit into it. I grimaced and let her use it to take some of the edge off. Thankfully, vampire saliva was a natural coagulant. The wounds sealed up as soon as the vampires stopped drinking.

Clarissa looked over to where the others had walked away. “The world was a different place after World War Three. Everyone blamed everyone else, but most of all, they blamed the superheroes for not preventing it and the supervillains for existing. Merciful rose to power in the chaos and recruited countless supervillains to his cause for rebuilding. He also dismantled Gabrielle’s reform program. Shadow Team Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and more were replaced with his own troops. They were less interested in reformation than in making use of the psychos and eliminating anyone who could stand in his way.”

“Ironic for a supposedly reformed villain,” I said, pulling my hand away before Mandy drank more blood than I was comfortable giving. “Then again, in Other Gary’s mind, he was never a villain.”

Clarissa sighed. “It explained a lot. We never believed you and Merciful were the same person. Not only had your family informed us of him, but we’d fought with you before. That made us targets. We were all framed for returning to our life of supervillainy. General Venom allowed himself to be captured to let us all escape. Other Gary made sure he was tried, convicted, and executed for the crimes he’d committed before his attempt at atonement.”

I couldn’t say I felt much. General Venom was, in his own way, sort of like Diabloman. One of the genuinely evil supervillains who’d once been a big deal before becoming considerably less so (both evil and a big deal) as time passed. Venom—I didn’t know his real name—had been a massive big deal as a superpowered militia leader in the 1980s before the word “terrorist” had been a household word.

His organization, the House of Serpents, had done a lot of damage in its war against the Foundation for World Harmony’s troops, but the public had treated it as one gigantic sports match. In the end, after the House of Serpents crumbled, General Venom converted to Islam and ended up trying to bring peace to the Middle East and other war-torn countries. I’d never been entirely comfortable with the guy and always wondered why Gabrielle had tried to give him an out. Still, I supposed I hoped he’d found some sort of peace.

“Well, if you’re going to take down Merciful, then I’m in,” Clarissa said. “So is my husband John.”

“John?” I asked.

“John Midnight,” Clarissa said. “A resurrected and ensouled Bloodscream the Retributive.”

Oh yeah, I remembered him coming back from the dead right before I’d been imprisoned in Undertown. It seemed the revolving door of death only applied to supervillains and ex-supervillains. It never seemed to apply to the noble like Ultragod or the millions of people President Omega killed. I didn’t want to think about that, though, so I made a glib remark. “I was resurrecting loved ones as vampires and giving them their souls back before it was cool.”

Mandy gave me a sideways glance.

“Which means you were doing it first!” I said, backtracking. “He’s totes ripping you off!”

Mandy sighed. “Whatever.”

Ouch. Suppressing her violently murderous urges was probably a lot more difficult than it usually was if she wasn’t in a joking mood.

“We also have Diabloman, Mister Inventor, Red Riding Hood, and . . . others,” Amanda said, perhaps only then realizing we didn’t have anyone else. “So, that’s something.”

“Not unless you intend to make a legion of vampires under your control,” Clarissa said. “Which is possible, I suppose.”

“No, it’s not,” Mandy said. “That’s the one line I won’t cross.”

“Line-crossing is bad when you’re trying to control a horror hunger.” I wracked my brain trying figure out how I was going to convince hundreds of supervillains to work together against the First Citizen. Tom Terror had managed it only by unleashing them against his enemies while working another angle. “Despite the stirring beginnings of our force of six or seven people, we need more bodies on the ground. Taking out this power plant and recovering Gabrielle will do a lot to weaken Other Gary, though. It might also allow me to steal all the life energy he’s stolen and will him out of existence.”

“Really?” Clarissa said.

“Fuck if I know,” I admitted. “I’ve literally learned more magic by accident than trying to understand its principles. I’ve got the unlearn part down but have almost zero luck with the actual physics.”

“Way to fill her up with confidence about our chances, Gary,” Amanda said.

“Who is the leader here?” Mandy asked. “We need to speak with them.”

Clarissa looked uncomfortable before answering. “Uh, it’s . . . Selena. Selena Darkchilde. The Black Witch.”

Mandy stared.

I closed my eyes. “Of course it is.”

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you two friends?” Amanda asked, looking between us.

“Since when?” Mandy said, looking between us.

“Eh,” I shrugged my shoulder. “She’s kind of my magical tutor.”

“My ex-girlfriend is your instructor,” Mandy said, sounding appalled.

You two hated each other. What could possibly have brought you to . . . oh.”

“Yeah,” I said, sighing. “We only had one thing in common, and trying to save her was enough to put aside any differences we had.”

Selena Darkchilde, a.k.a the Black Witch, was a sorceress possessed by the spirit of Hecate. Selena and I technically had the same supervillain story. The insidious Doctor Thule— and I refuse not to use the descriptor for him—had taken dozens of highly intelligent but emotionally unstable Falconcrest City university students before manipulating them to their breaking points. I hadn’t gone all the way, though, and never got superpowers like she had via magic. We’d known each other before Mandy, though, and I considered her a fundamentally good person gone wrong. She was also petty, vindictive, and extremely jealous. I did not know how she was going to react to Mandy’s soul being restored.

“You think she believed Mandy would someday return to her?” Cloak asked.

“No one likes setting their exes free,” I mentally replied. “It’s why the Supremes sang about it.”

“I actually got that reference,” Cloak said. “How do you think Mandy will react?”

I honestly had no idea. “Let’s get going, Clarissa. Time is wasting, and every second is another second Gabrielle remains imprisoned.”

“All right,” Clarissa said, walking forward. “Let’s go.”

I looked over to Mandy, who looked conflicted. “Are you OK?”

Mandy looked up at me, her eyes having turned red. “No, Gary, no I’m not.”

I put my arms around her and led her down the halls. “It’ll be OK.”

Amanda walked beside us. “How bad could it be?”

“I’m not in control of my emotions, so I might murder everyone here,” Mandy said.

“Yeah, let’s not do that,” I said. “At least until we need to make a really dramatic statement about how much of a badass you are.”

Though in a fight between me, Mandy, Amanda, and an army of ten thousand versus Selena, I put my money on Selena. The trek through Club Inferno left me feeling that things were worse than I’d expected with the supervillain business. I passed stands where people were selling advanced weapons, magical items, and loot, but the pickings were far worse than I remembered.

Also, the clubgoers weren’t just losers from other cities trying to make it in Falconcrest City’s power vacuum, but a lot of mid-listers plus a few of the less smart big boys. There was Ax-Crook, Brain-in-a-Jar, the Cyberpunk, Jigsaw Jones, B-Movie Slasher, Sexy Jester, Ant-Girl and Bee Queen, Gay Pierre, Murder Hobo, Domo Origato, and her husband Mister Roboto plus a few others I recognized.

The club scene was also a good deal more depressing as well, since plenty of these supervillains were lined up at the expansive bar, getting plastered. They looked like they’d been doing it every night for months. Others weren’t bothering with mere alcohol and I saw a den of supervillains completely out on Red Dust. There were methods to clean up people in less than twenty-four hours, but this was a damned depressing sight. About the only part that wasn’t was the Gladiator Pits, where at least some were enjoying beating the hell out of each other with their powers. The Gladiator Pits were enspelled so the combatants couldn’t kill each other, mostly out of a need to make sure supervillains didn’t decrease the amount of evil in the world with their infighting. But the pits still were as violent as ever.

“This isn’t just a haven for the villains of Falconcrest City anymore, is it?” I asked Clarissa.

Clarissa shook her head. “No, Club Inferno has opened gateways across the United States and beyond. This is a haven for all supervillains on Earth now. It’s a profession that’s rapidly dying out.”

“Oh, the shame,” Amanda said.

Clarissa shrugged. “They now work for the First Citizen, beating up protestors and killing people in foreign countries for outrageous amounts of money. Going straight doesn’t mean they’ve gone good.”

There wasn’t much to say to that. We arrived at a secluded alcove overlooking the Gladiator Pits, where Black Witch was lying on a black leather couch with a couple of guests. Selena looked like a million bucks in a set of fishnets, a female magician’s top, and a witch’s hat. If Angelina Jolie and Eva Green had a science baby, she would probably grow up to be half as hot as Selena Darkchilde. The Red Schoolgirl, who was now more the Red School Mistress, was wearing an adult version of a school uniform while leaning against her on one of the couches. Guarding the door was a living stone statue of a politician from before my imprisonment that I vaguely recognized as the professional henchman Rockman Obama.

He smiled at me. “Welcome to the Lady’s alcove. Don’t try anything. I might get mad.”

Mandy locked eyes with Selena.

Then Selena rushed out to embrace her.

“OK,” I muttered. “This is nice.”

Selena kissed Mandy on both cheeks, then the lips before shocking me by hugging me. “I’m glad you’re all right too, Gary.”

I held my hands out completely straight to avoid groping her in even the slightest way. That the back of her outfit was just a corset made that difficult.

Selena pulled back. “How can I help you?’

Wow, that was easy.

Chapter Sixteen

WHERE I TRY TO SELL THE BLACK WITCH ON MY NOT-PLAN

It turned out I was completely wrong. It proved to be extremely difficult to persuade Selena.

“I’m here to recruit all the supervillains for my secret society . . . “ I trailed off, trying to think of a way to spruce up my presentation. “S.P.I.D.E.R.”

“Spider?” Selena asked, walking over to sit down beside the Red Schoolgirl.

“It’s an acronym,” I said, taking a seat on the couch as the others joined me. “The Special Political Intelligence Something-Something Revenge.”

“Why not just call it Spider and not worry about the acronym?” Selena asked.

“Because if I’m going to have a secret organization, it’s going to damn well have an acronym,” I said. “It’s like calling Blofeld’s organization Octopus because cephalopods are on all their rings and logos.”

“Octopus would be a pretty decent name for a supervillain organization,” the Red Schoolgirl said. “Plus, they’re delicious.”

“Fine, S.P.I.D.E.R is Spider. Except, it should be Spy-der with a Y and a hyphen. Because it sounds cooler.”

“It sounds the same.” Mandy looked at me sideways. “Also, bad spelling is cool?”

“Yes,” I hissed. “Yes, it is.”

Selena felt her face. “Gary, you can’t form a secret society. That’s reserved for archvillains only.”

“I’m an archvillain!” I said, offended. “I’m really, really dangerous!”

Selena raised an eyebrow. “Gary, I’d leave you alone with small children.”

“What, I’m not threatening because I believe in good childcare?”

“If that’s the case, then Cindy should be the greatest archvillain of them all,” Mandy muttered.

“I’m saying you’re a mid-tier villain at best, Gary.” Selena sighed. “You should be out robbing banks and jewelry stores, not trying to take over the world.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’ve killed superheroes! I mean, yes, mostly the Extreme repeatedly, but they still count!”

“You’re here with a superhero,” Selena said.

I looked at Amanda. “That’s actually the Imposter. I’ve cleverly locked up the real Nightwoman in an elaborate deathtrap back at my underground base, which is real, and replaced her. Say something villainous, Imposter.”

“No,” Amanda said, sipping her martini. “This is stupid.”

“See! Bad attitude!” I said. “She’s a supervillain through and through.”

Selena continued giving me a skeptical look. “Do you even have any henchmen anymore?”

I paused. “Yes, yes, I do. Thousands. You don’t know them. They live in Canada.”

“I think we’re done,” Selena said.

“We know how to cripple Merciful’s organization completely in one blow,” Mandy said, simply. “Gary has located the source of Merciful’s power and has learned how to kill him forever. He’s the Chosen of Death, remember, and is probably the only person on Earth who can kill the Chosen of Life. He also brought me back to life and if you have any remaining feelings—”

Selena sighed and raised her hand. “You don’t have to play that card, Amy.”

“Amy?” I asked.

Mandy looked at me. “Mandy is short for Amanda.”

“No, she’s Amanda,” I pointed at Amanda. “You have the same name!?”

Mandy stared at me.

“Not funny?” I said.

“No,” Mandy said. “We’re trying to be taken seriously here, Gary.”

“Well, that’s doomed to failure,” I said, sighing. “Listen, Selena, I rescued the city from Zul-Barbas and the Brotherhood of Infamy. I escaped from the moon prison and killed a Nephilim doing it. I smacked around Tom Terror—”

“He’s here, you know,” Selena said.

“Gah, where!?” I shouted, looking over my shoulder.

Each woman at the table stared at me in contempt. I’d fallen for the third oldest trick in the book.

“Goddammit.” I winced. “I am the only person on Earth who can take down Other Gary for good. Don’t you want things to return to the way they were?”

“Supervillains rampaging across the world while heroes are powerless to do anything but lock them up until they escape?” Selena said. “Not really. I’m doing a lot better than I ever was as the Crime Boss of Crime Bosses than I was as just another criminal. You forget, I wasn’t a supervillain by choice and tried to keep the worst of our kind in check. I didn’t make it a lifestyle like you did.”

I closed my eyes. “So, I can’t convince you to join with me by appealing to your worse nature.”

“No,” Selena said, standing up. “I’ll protect you while you’re in my club, Gary, but taking down—”

“He’s holding Gabrielle prisoner and this is all an elaborate ruse to rescue her,” I said. “I mean, yes, we’ll screw over Other Gary in the process, but it’s all about her. He’s using her as a kind of battery.”

Selena paused in mid-step. “Goddesses.”

Mandy smiled. “Funny, how we only seem to gain any traction when we do the right thing.”

“I will help rescue Gabrielle,” the Red Schoolgirl said. “I owe her my life many times over.”

“I do too,” Clarissa said. “Because of Other Gary, there’s no reformation for criminals anymore. We’re treated like vermin, fit for slave labor or to be killed. It was bad before, but it’s gotten worse. I tried to atone for my sins, but I’m back here thanks to her disappearance.”

“Tell me where she is and I’ll rescue her,” Selena said.

“Uh-uh,” I said, shaking my head. “This is not a one- or two-person job. This is an actual army-army job. We need the people here to help take down his forces so I can get at the heart of them.”

“You need them as expendable cannon fodder to get at Gabrielle,” Selena corrected.

I shrugged. “Potato, potahto, only Dan Quayle really cares about the difference. Which is, wow, a dated political reference.”

“Supervillains don’t work for free, Gary,” Selena said. “They don’t do missions out of the goodness of their heart and especially not for a man who unironically has said ‘Anarchy in the UK’ is his jam.”

“Hey, it is!” I said. “I’m an anarchist socialist out to take over the world and be richer than God.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Mandy said, staring at me.

I gave a dismissive wave. “Merciless is not bound by the petty ideological distinctions that lesser men abide by. I have transcended them.”

“Gary—” Selena said.

“Stole one point five billion dollars from the Brotherhood of Infamy,” Mandy said, not missing a beat. “That money is yours if you can get the army to fight with us.”

Selena stared.

“Well, half of it,” Mandy smiled. “We’re not stupid.”

I paused. “Yes, we’re not stupid at all. Yeah.”

“Smooth, Gary,” Cloak muttered.

Amanda nodded along with Mandy’s outrageous lie. “Is that enough?”

“Jesus, with that kind of money, why are you a supervillain?” Clarissa said, shaking her head.

I gave her a deep penetrating stare. “Because I’m a bad, bad man.”

Mandy looked directly at Selena. “Help us. You know Gary has an insane ability to kill people ridiculously stronger than him.”

“Mandy—” Selena started to say.

“I think Death wants to fuck him too,” Amanda said.

Mandy glared at her.

“She’s willing to look and act like you! Take it as a compliment!” Amanda said.

“If anyone can kill Other Gary, it’s probably the guy who killed Ultragod,” Clarissa said. “Whichever Gary it was.”

“I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered by that remark, so I’ll go with both,” I said, suppressing my angry retort. I was horrified and disgusted that they’d think I’d ever hurt Gabrielle’s family.

Selena sighed. “Listen, I can talk to everyone, but the simple fact is you don’t have a lot of respect around here. Any of you.”

“It’s because I devoured half of Falconcrest City’s supervillains, isn’t it?” Mandy said.

“You did what?” Selena said, her eyes widening.

“Wow, we are really not covering ourselves in glory during this conversation,” I said. “I think she means most of the supervillains here think Merciful and I are the same person, as the Human Tank just demonstrated. Also, Mandy, you were a superhero before you became a vampire. Imposter here is impersonating Nightwoman—”

“Let it go, Gary,” Amanda said. “Be like Elsa.”

I tried to think of something funny to say, then decided to focus on the matter at hand. “So, I need to prove I’m a big enough badass to lead this army. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes, exactly.” Selena sighed. “You and Mandy both.”

“Well, one of those won’t be a problem,” Mandy said.

“You mean you, don’t you?” I asked.

“Yes,” Mandy said. “Other Gary is an existential threat to this world and the superheroes are on his side. He’s a corruptor and a fountain of lies who has already ruined this earth twice before. He must be stopped, by whatever means necessary. You owe it to Gabrielle to help, and despite what people say . . . I believe you are all good people.”

“I do too,” Amanda said. “Except Gary. I genuinely think he is insane.”

“Thank you,” I said. “So, do we have a deal, Selena?”

Selena looked out into the club below. “I’ll see what I can do. No promises, though.”

With that, Selena and the Red Schoolgirl departed, the Human Tank following them for backup. That left us alone in Selena’s booth with a bunch of half-drunk apple cider martinis and a host of new problems.

“Spy-der?” Mandy asked. “Really? You hate spiders.”

“Spiders frighten me,” I said, remembering my semi-dark and traumatic childhood. “Kerri used to have a huge collection of tarantulas when she wasn’t much older than Gizmo’s age and dumped them all in my bed once so we could be friends. Their ghosts haunted me for years.”

“And I thought my family was cruel.” Amanda shuddered. “Spiders. Blech.”

Mandy rolled her eyes.

“Where are we going to get seven hundred and fifty million dollars?” Amanda said. “Because they’re going to want a down payment on that.”

I shrugged. “Evil will provide. We only need about seventy million dollars to bring the other supervillains in. About a half-million each will be enough to get everyone to ignore the fact that quite a few of them are going to die.”

“Seriously,” Amanda said. “We need to—”

That was when an open trunk full of diamonds fell from the ceiling, followed by six other trunks presumably filled with more.

Amanda stared. “When you said evil would provide—”

“I was being literal, yeah,” I said, shrugging. “If we were working for a good cause or needed enough money to get out of supervillainy, then Club Inferno would have ignored us. A half-million dollars each means a good hundred and forty supervillains are going to be cheated at the end of the day, but rich enough to help us break Other Gary’s hold on society. It also will be gone within a week, as that kind of money doesn’t last with supervillains.”

“A half-million dollars doesn’t last with supervillains?” Amanda asked. “I was a billionaire and that makes no sense to me.”

“Death rays and armored costumes don’t come cheap,” I said.

“Neither do hookers and blow, which I suspect is what most will spend their money on,” Mandy said. “Because they’re not you.”

“I have no need of such things. My body is a temple and I have you,” I said. “It is the Sith Way.”

That was when something strange, even by my standards, happened. A one-foot-tall teddy bear with a top hat, monocle, and an umbrella walked up to our table. It then spoke in a thick British accent. “Good day, sir, madams, I couldn’t help but overhear part of your conversation. Am I to understand you are the original Merciless?”

I looked over my shoulder and around. “Is this real?”

“This is where you draw the line?” Amanda asked. “After fighting Cthulhu, the president, and your goatee-wearing twin?”

“He doesn’t have a goatee,” I said, “and yes, this is actually my breaking point.”

The teddy bear cleared his throat. “Ah, so you are Merciless?”

“Yes, what of it?” I asked.

The teddy bear aimed his umbrella at me as a knife shot out of the end and he launched himself at my throat. “Then die!”

“Gah!” I shouted, turning intangible only for him to try to drive his knife into my shoulder. Thankfully, I was tougher than a normal human and it only scratched the surface of my skin. I tried to force him off me. Mandy grabbed him and started banging his stuffed body against the table. The little fuzzy thing managed to resist well until I grabbed his umbrella and used it to nail his arm to the table.

Amanda just watched the entire affair with a big stupid grin on her face.

“Curse you! Curse you, varlet!” the teddy bear said. “I shall have your guts for garters!”

Mandy glanced at me. “Gary, what did you do to piss off the teddy bear?”

“Nothing! I didn’t even break my Teddy Ruxpin like every other kid did!”

The teddy bear squirmed and kicked. “You murdered me!”

“Eh?” I said, doing a double take.

“I am Big Ben!” the teddy bear shouted. “Reborn thanks to the Nephilim Gog sending my soul back to do his work! My ghost inhabits this soft plush shell, but in me burns the heart of a supervillain.”

I stared at him.

And didn’t stop staring.

Mandy waved her hand in front of my face. “Gary?”

“Sorry,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Just . . . if I ever die, don’t let me come back as a combination of Chucky and a Care Bear like this guy.”

“Who’s Chucky?” Amanda said.

“Don’t ask,” I said, taking a deep breath.

I remembered Big Ben, of course. Hell, I’d once admired the supervillain a great deal. He’d been a Cockney-accented London gangster whom the Nightwalker had put away for decades but who had returned to start up his criminal empire again. He’d tried to sell me the Nightwalker’s former base, but it had turned out to be a trap for morons. People would buy the place only for Big Ben to kill them so he could sell it again.

Only, well, I’d dropped the Nightcar off its display on him.

Big Ben growled at me. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to get my vengeance on you! I’ve built a criminal organization rivaling any in Falconcrest City history! Do you think you’ll get out of here alive? I have more minions than that corseted strumpet and—”

Mandy stuffed a napkin in his mouth as he tried to bite her, so that his fuzzy mouth did no damage. “So, what do you want to do with him?”

I smirked. “Hey, Ben, how would you like to be human again?”

Ben stopped struggling.

“Gary, what are you thinking?” Amanda asked.

I smiled. “I . . . have a plan.”

Chapter Seventeen

DRAMATIC ENTRANCES MAKE FOR GOOD FIRST IMPRESSIONS

There’s an interesting fact I found out while doing research for my Unusual Criminology paper. Basically, after the Godfather and Goodfellas, real-life mafia groups started throwing in terminology and references from the movies. I understand this. As I mentioned to my mother once, ever since I was a kid, all I ever wanted to be was a supervillain.

A similar relationship exists between the media and supervillains. In simple terms, it’s because the kind of people who become supervillains tend to be the kind of people who are desperate for attention and meaning in their lives.

“You don’t say,” Cloak muttered. “This is a shock regarding you, truly.”

“Shut it, you. I’m organizing my thoughts.”

Now there are plenty of supervillains who don’t need the kind of theatrics common to the supervillain trade: ancient wizard kings, alien despots, and so on. However, the simple fact is that superpowered crime bosses had to step up their game to match what was on the big screen. Mobsters became less like Al Capone and more like Bond villains, while thugs gravitated around colorful weirdos instead of bland professionals. They wanted to be part of the magic, so to speak. Which is what I was going to take advantage of now.

The Black Witch was talking to her most trusted colleagues, people who were on the decent end of the supervillain spectrum, but I didn’t need those guys right now. I needed people who were vicious, murderous thugs right now, and you couldn’t just pay those people. Money was good, but they were as likely to turn on you once they were paid because, well, criminals. Big Ben’s help was what I needed here and if I screwed this up, I had no doubt he’d throw me to the wolves.

The “presentation,” as I called it, started with all the lights dimming in Club Inferno. All the internet and television service went on the fritz too. That was more from Club Inferno itself, which seemed to be supporting my campaign against Other Gary. Then, a single soft blue light appeared around me (an effect achieved by Mandy, who was manning the club’s systems). I kept my head down even as my face was covered in a thick metal gas mask with tubes and a voice enhancer.

“Pathetic,” I said, sounding like a robot James Spader with reverb. Not that anyone would ever make a movie like that. “This is what the supervillains of this world have been reduced to? Cowering while the heroes take over the world piece by piece? You possess power greater than any on Earth, and you spend your time wallowing in self-doubt, scrounging for scraps while the First Citizen reaps the harvest of what should be your city.”

On cue, the Cyberpunk, a mohawk-wearing cyborg, growled from the Gladiator Pits where he’d just demolished Multiplication Table’s six bodies. “Just who the hell do you think you are?”

I lifted a metal broadsword I’d picked up from one of the tables for eight dollars before floating downwards, causing a current of hellfire to appear around it. “I am the Dark Lord of Dimension X, the Conqueror of Worlds, the Tyrant of the Underground Kingdom of Qwash, and the killer of Ultragod. I am the True Merciless!”

I then cut the Cyberpunk’s head clean off his body. Oil spewed from his neck before his head rolled down to the side of my feet. The Cyberpunk gave me a wink to let me know he was OK. Still, that got the reaction from the crowd I was hoping for. Everyone was paying attention now.

Levitating upwards, I filled the gladiator pits with flame and used my flaming sword for emphasis. “Each of you has wondered who killed Earth’s greatest champion years ago. Well, now you have your answer. I was drawn away from business in this dimension before I could respond and return to find the earth worse than before. You are the elite of society, and yet here you cower. I do not come here to cast judgments, though, but to present you with? an opportunity. That insolent fool who calls himself the First Citizen draws his power from technology he stole from me, back when he dared to call himself a supervillain. Tonight, I am going to destroy it and take back this city for those to whom it truly belongs: the criminals and freaks!”

“I’m uncomfortable with your taking advantage of my old friend’s death this way,” Cloak said.

“So am I,” I said back mentally. “However, Moses Anders would approve of this, I think, if it meant saving the city of his friend.”

“Fair point,” Cloak said.

“How are you going to succeed where everyone else has failed?” One of the crowd, the Crossword Puzzle Man by the looks of him, shouted up at me. I was surprised to see that guy as I’d thought he’d retired. Maybe it was his son.

I lifted an ordinary rock I’d picked up from behind the club. “I possess the Annihilation Stone! The one substance in the universe containing the Death Dark Oblivion Force of Castle Hellscream! It alone can remove his immortality and kill him!”

“I still think you should have removed some of those adjectives,” Cloak muttered.

I looked over to see Selena looking up in sheer disbelief, while behind her, Clarissa wore a silly grin.

I ignored Cloak. “Merci-Lass, Vampiressa, show the wealth that awaits those who assist Spy-Der in tonight’s mission!”

Amanda and Mandy walked out wearing very slight adjustments to their costumes. They spilled out one of the trunks of diamonds, and lights shined on close to a hundred other empty trunks I’d used to make the actual diamonds look more present. To quote Django Unchained, I’d had everyone else’s curiosity before, but now I had their attention.

“I will join you!” Big Ben shouted, followed by a bunch of other ringers in the audience and very reluctantly, the Black Witch herself. A few minutes later and I had damn near the entire club ready to go along with my plan. As it should be. Spy-Der was no longer a cool name but a reality.

“It’s really not a cool name,” Cloak said. “It’s actually quite terrible.”

Making a few more bold pronouncements and working the crowd a bit more, I levitated backward and found myself in the otherwise empty V.I.P lounge of Club Inferno. I could feel the club rumbling with the enjoyment of my hellish performance. I may not be the world’s smartest supervillain or most powerful, but I know how to work a crowd. You know, despite this being the first time I’d ever done so.

Mandy and Amanda soon followed me into the V.I.P lounge. I was glad Club Inferno was letting them, since I’d seen it repel people it didn’t think evil enough to enter. Not saying it was me who was teleported to Denmark when they tried, but well, it was me.

“So, how did it go?” I asked, removing my mask.

“The Darth Revan look seems to have gone over well,” Mandy said. “I think you’ve got them.”

“Darth who?” Amanda said.

“Video game character,” Mandy said. “I play them, especially the Star Wars and Final Fantasy ones, but I don’t live geekdom quite the way Gary does. I’m more Sisters of Mercy than System of a Down.”

“I have no idea who either of those groups are,” Amanda said.

“You don’t know who the Sisters of Mercy are?” Mandy asked, horrified.

“I’m only listen to classical music,” Amanda said. “Also, gangster rap.”

Mandy looked horrified.

“You should introduce her to Andrew Eldritch,” I said, smiling. Not that they could see it through my heavy metal mask.

“Is he a superhero or villain? He has to be one or the other with that name,” Amanda said.

“Very probably,” I said. “Anyway—”

“Please tell me you know who Trent Reznor is,” Mandy interrupted.

“The guy who did The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo theme?” Amanda said, shrugging. “He’s a musician, right?”

Mandy’s horror intensified.

“Huh,” I said, blinking. “So that’s what people reacting to me looks like.”

Amanda tried to change the subject. “Did you have to call me Merci-Lass again? I really thought we were past that.”

“Well, clearly you were mistaken,” I said, smiling.

That was when Selena and Clarissa walked in. Selena looked furious while Clarissa still looked delighted.

“You could have bothered to tell me you were going to do this,” Selena said.

“Where’s the fun in that?” I asked. “It’s like having a movie trivia contest and inviting Amanda.”

“I only watched Disney films growing up,” Amanda said. “My favorite was Oliver and Company.”

Mandy looked at her. “There’s something wrong with you.”

“Well, you’ve certainly riled them up more than I’ve seen in years, but that’s not a good thing,” Selena said. “These are a vicious band of killers, thieves, and murderers.”

“Can I bring back ‘duh’ or is that stuck in the nineties?” I said.

“No, but you’re not a teenage girl either,” Selena said. “Come on, Gary, mature a little.”

“Denied!” I snapped. “The Dark Lord Merciless refuses!”

“Are there any holdouts?” Mandy said.

Selena said, “There’s a few holdouts. Adonis refuses to be involved because he feels like he should have gotten more credit for saving the city and believes he owes Merciful rather than you. The Typewriter knows Merciful—”

“Wait, he’s back?” I asked.

“It’s his daughter,” Selena said. “She knows Other Gary is a fake but doesn’t want to join our cause because you killed her father. Twice.”

“What a silly reason to hold a grudge,” I said, giving a dismissive wave. “Anyone else?”

“The P.H.A.N.T.O.M Youth,” Selena said. “They won’t work for you because you’re Jewish.”

“I think we can survive without the Neo-Nazis,” I said.

“They claim to endorse only ironic racism,” Selena said.

“I have no idea what that means and feel stupider for having heard it,” I said.

Selena said, “I think we have a real chance of bringing down Merciful’s empire. So kudos, Gary, you have almost earned my respect.”

I rolled my eyes. “One thing—I’d like you guys to hang back.”

“What?” Clarissa said. “Why?”

“My doppelgänger is dangerous,” I said. “This is more a military operation than a heist, and I don’t want any of you dying to stop him when these guys can take the brunt.”

“That’s an awful thing to ask,” Amanda said. “I’m prepared to die to stop Other Gary.”

“I’m working so you don’t have to,” I said. “The world is enriched by your Merci-Lassness.”

“That’s it, I’m getting a drink,” Amanda said, walking past them.

Selena sighed. “Mandy, would you come and help? We need someone from his group to look scary as we settle on plans.”

Mandy nodded. “With pleasure.”

Clarissa gave me a curious look before departing with the others.

I sighed. “So, this is how it ends. One last big bang before I take out my enemies.”

“Have you ever given any thought to what you’re going do after this?” Cloak asked.

“You mean after I’ve murdered the world’s most popular totalitarian dictator?”

“Yes.”

I paused to say something flippant, then sighed. “I dunno, probably retire.”

“What?” Cloak replied.

“I’ve spent five years underground as a brainwashed drooling Ward Cleaver,” I said, closing my eyes. “That’s in addition to getting my wife killed and turned into a vampire. I suck at being a supervillain.”

“You’ll forgive me if I think supervillainy itself is an automatic fail state.”

I took a deep breath. “That’s another thing. I don’t want to drag you along with me anymore to do things you’re morally disgusted by.”

Cloak didn’t respond.

I narrowed my eyes. “Cloak? You there? Hello, McFly?”

Cloak made a groaning noise. “I’m sorry, I was genuinely moved by that. Which, by the way, you’ve completely ruined.”

“I try,” I said. “I’ve got my family back for the first time in a long time. You have no idea how tempting it was to take Other Gary’s offer, but bluntly, he comes off as a lying liar who lies. I mean, I know because he’s me. I’m screwing everyone here, so I know I’d screw me by making whatever stargate he conjures for us lead to a sun or a black hole or Jacksonville, Florida. No, taking out Other Gary is the only way to end all this.”

“I’m not sure it will be that easy,” Cloak said. “The door of being a superhero or villain is not one easily closed.”

“No shit,” I said. “Remember, Shoot-Em-Up murdered my brother after he retired.”

“How could I forget,” Cloak said, perhaps a bit more sarcastically than he’d intended. “What would you like to do with the rest of your life?”

I thought about my answer. “Honestly, I don’t really care as long as it’s near my loved ones. If I’ve got Mandy, Cindy, Kerri, Gizmo, you, and Diabloman, then I’ll be fine.”

“Diabloman may not be with you soon,” Cloak said. “I might not either.”

I blinked. “What? That’s bullshit. We’re together until I die, then stuck together in the Reaper’s Cloak. You said that yourself.”

“That was before I knew you were . . . OK, is it BFFs? I don’t know if that’s right. BFFs with Death.”

“Don’t ever try to use internet slang again. Ever,” I said. “What? You think Death’s going to free you after this?”

“The thought had occurred to me, yes,” Cloak said. “I can feel her anger diminishing at me. For decades, it was white hot, but the more I help you, it lessens. The possibility of me moving on is real. If not now, then someday.”

“Do you want to die?” I asked, hurt by his words. “There’s so much else to see in the world, though! I mean, we haven’t watched Stranger Things yet!”

“I’d like to see my wife and daughter again. My brother as well.”

“Ah,” I said. “That.”

“I admit, though, I would be leaving a son behind.”

“You realize we met when I was thirty, right?”

“Don’t ruin this, Gary.”

“Too late,” I said, taking a moment to breathe. “I’m not good at letting go, Cloak.”

“You don’t have to, yet.”

I didn’t have anything to say to that. So, instead, I switched the subject. “I’d think I’d like to move to Atlas City. Near Gabrielle. A city that’s clean, prosperous, and nice without the jackboots.”

“Good choice,” Cloak said.

That was when I heard “The Imperial March” coming from one of the extra-dimensional spaces in my cloak (which I used as pocket substitutes). Reaching in, I pulled out a cell phone, which was notable since I hadn’t put it in there.

Answering it, I said, “Hello?”

“Oh, my dear brother,” Other Gary said. “You’ve done fucked it up now and your family is going to pay the price.”

Chapter Eighteen

WHERE OTHER GARY CROSSES THE MORAL EVENT HORIZON

I clutched the phone tightly, my body shaking with the implications of what he was saying. He was going after my daughter because of my actions. I wanted to reach in the phone and murder him at once. Instead, I managed to keep the barest veneer of calm before saying, “Is this how you want to be remembered? Going after a man’s family? I thought you were supposed to be the good guy.”

Gary’s tone turned patronizing. “It turns out being the good guy requires you to make hard decisions. The greater good demands whatever evil is necessary to achieve it. Villains like you are free to do whatever they want, but for me, I must do whatever it requires to achieve victory.”

“That is some utterly insane shit.”

“But effective,” Other Gary said. “Good—”

“Let me turn myself in,” I said. “I’m yours. Just don’t hurt the people there.”

“For God sakes, have some dignity,” Other Gary said. “Must you have such an obvious weakness?”

There was desperation in my voice. “Maybe having people to love motivates me more than it does you.”

Other Gary’s voice dripped with contempt. “I gave you a chance to leave the battlefield. To live your insipid life of robbing the rich and giving to yourself. You just couldn’t take it, though, could you? Did you not think I’d have informers in Club Inferno? People who would sell you for their own loved ones or a bit of money in their pocket? That’s what supervillains do, Gary. They betray each other. Just like you’ve betrayed me.”

I didn’t even stop to comment on the insanity that he thought I could betray him when we’d never been anything but enemies. “I have a daughter now. Her name is Leia, but her mother calls her Gizmo. She could be your daughter. We’re flesh and blood in a kind of perverse fashion. If you attack our base, then you’re putting her at risk. She’s just four years old.”

Other Gary paused. “You should have thought of that. Hopefully, you’ll be more careful with your next child.”

He then hung up.

I melted the phone, letting the plastic and circuitry scald my hand. Strangely, I didn’t feel any heat or burns before shaking it away. “Am I this sort of monster, Cloak? Was he inside me all along?”

“Every man has a monster inside him,” Cloak said. “But the depths to which your doppelgänger has descended can be achieved only by someone who believes they are doing the right thing.”

It was an indictment of humanity’s capacity for good, but probably accurate. That was when I noticed Mandy standing beside me.

“What the hell?” I said, practically jumping out of my skin.

“Vampire,” Mandy explained. “We’re really, really quiet. I can also shadow step.”

“What, like in Dishonored? Since when?”

“You’re the black-cloaked assassin who made a pact with an enigmatic god,” Mandy said, ignoring my question. “We need to get to the Crystal Palace now.”

“Yes,” I said. “Other Gary is going to hurt Gizmo.”

Mandy gave a half-smile. “Gary, I love you so very much. I wish I could have given you what you wanted with her. Someday, I’ll say why I couldn’t.”

“Now’s not the—” I started to say.

Mandy proceeded to kiss me on the lips and we were swallowed by shadows. Seconds later, the shadows parted and the two of us were in the middle of the security room of the Crystal Palace.

“What the hell,” I said, shaking my head. “How?”

Mandy shrugged. “Vampires get stronger when they age. I’m two hundred years old and can do lots of stuff I couldn’t do before.”

“Oh,” I said.

That was when I heard a bunch of energy blast noises that no longer reminded me of beloved science fiction movies but President Omega’s Darklight troopers. I immediately rushed out into the hallway, only for Mandy to pull me back as a bunch of energy blasts shot past me.

“Think, Gary!” Mandy chided.

“Our family’s out there!” I snapped.

Mandy blinked once. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

Two Darklight troopers rushed to the door of the security room and I saw their armor was once more a piercing shade of black. It was also covered in glowing green mystical runes, which I recognized protected against fire, ice, and insubstantiality effects. Other Gary had armed his troops against me, specifically.

Mandy solved that problem. As she cast out her hands, terrible shadowy tendrils shot forth and ripped through the troopers’ armor like clay, bisecting and decapitating both. She took a moment to stare at the blood splattered on the wall before shaking her head. “You should take some of their weapons.”

I reached over and placed my hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“For?” Mandy asked.

“Forcing you to become a killer,” I said, guilty. “I know you wanted to be a hero.”

Mandy gave a half-smile. “Being a hero is about doing things to help others. Killing is just the high cost of it in war.”

“Still, I can’t imagine what it’s like to have fought so long.”

Mandy looked at me with eyes that had turned red. “You will.”

I didn’t have time to think more on that before grabbing the energy rifle off the ground. Running out into the hall, I started firing randomly in the air and managed to catch one of the Darklight troopers coming around the corner off guard before another one started firing at me from behind, nearly killing me. Mandy, meanwhile blasted him, then two more, combining to reinforce the one I shot with pinpoint accuracy.

“You’ve never actually held a gun before in your life, have you?” Mandy asked.

“I’ve held the ones I shoot hellfire from!” I snapped.

Mandy closed her eyes. “Just a word of advice: Stop trying to hold the rifle sideways. They put the sights on the top for a reason.”

“Oh,” I said, adjusting my grip. “Smart.”

Travelling through the Crystal Palace was grim, as I found the place was riddled with destroyed servant robots, copies of Gizmo’s Murderbot, and several people I didn’t recognize but were clearly residents of the place. It seemed there had been more people inside the location than I’d thought, and they were all being killed indiscriminately. Most of them hadn’t been armed either. It made me terrified for all the other residents, and I couldn’t help but imagine Gizmo, Cindy, or Diabloman being slaughtered like animals.

Mandy killed five or six Darklight troopers for every soldier I killed—not that I was keeping score, but it seemed there were more coming every day. I also badly burned my arm when I took cover behind a position like it was Call of Duty only to discover that my position wasn’t energy-proof.

Still, I was ready and willing to go through an entire army, injured or not, if it meant protecting—

“There’s one!” I heard Cindy shout before firing her energy rifle at me.

“Shit!” I said, ducking before another blast shot over my head. “What the hell?!”

“Gary? Is that you, Gary?” Cindy said, popping her head from around a corner. “Tell me something only you would know!”

“I am going to fucking kill you if you ever do that again!” I snapped.

“Oh, it’s you,” Cindy said. “I would have also accepted that we have different opinions on Rogue One. It’s the best Star Wars since Empire.”

“Not the time,” I said, entirely serious. Especially because Rogue One was dark, depressing, and didn’t have nearly enough Darth Vader. The droid was cool, though.

I walked over and hugged her. “Is Gizmo all right?”

Cindy nodded, shooting over my shoulder at a Darklight trooper coming around the hall while Mandy moved to cover the entrance. “She’s in the room with me.”

“What?” I asked, unable to hearing a thing over the ringing in my ears.

Cindy snorted, then dragged me by my arm toward the room she had been hiding in. There, I saw Gizmo sitting in a corner holding a handheld computer that she was using to control murderbots throughout the building.

I grabbed it from her. “God almighty, Cindy, you’re letting her kill people!?”

“No!” Cindy said, crossing her arms before looking down at Gizmo. “Wait, are you killing people?”

“No,” Gizmo said. “They’re set to non-lethal mode. I will do anything to protect my aunt and Mister Inventor, though.”

I stared at her, then handed her back her computer.

Cindy looked ashamed. “I’m a horrible mother.”

I agreed, but wasn’t inclined to add to her guilt. “Cindy, Mandy can get you to safety. Take our daughter and get away from all this.”

“Gary—”

I grabbed her by the shoulders. “All of this. I don’t care where, but you must go someplace safe. Stay out of the way of supervillains and superheroes. Don’t let anything happen to her.”

“But—”

“Promise me,” I said, holding her tight. “If I ever meant something to you. If we were ever friends. If Gizmo means as much to you as she does to me.”

Cindy lowered her gaze. Each of my words seemed to hit her like a blow to the stomach.

“I do,” Gizmo said, interrupting her. “She just . . . doesn’t know how to relate.”

“Gary, you’re the only person who ever mattered. I only wish you felt the same way,” Cindy said, looking away. “But you’re right. I never should have brought her to this place. I wanted to avenge you more than I wanted to preserve what part of you remained. I’ll take her from this place, far away.”

I closed my eyes, realizing just how bad that might be. “Just keep her out of trouble.”

“Can you keep out of trouble?” Cindy asked. “What’s going to happen if you kill the First Citizen?”

“I don’t know,” I said. I took a deep breath. “Do you know if they have the others?”

“They reached Diabloman’s room,” Cindy said, looking disgusted with herself. “I had to get Gizmo to safety, but . . . they carried him away in some kind of container. I don’t know whether he’s dead or alive at this point. Kerri and Mister Inventor tried to get to the burrowers, but I can’t raise them on our communicator.”

She lifted her cellphone.

“Wow, you get reception down here? What’s your plan?” I asked.

Cindy punched me in the arm.

“I joke when I’m upset,” I said. “Which may explain why I’m constantly doing it. Mandy?”

Mandy appeared behind me, shifting from shadow to shadow. “I’m here.”

“Can you take her someplace safe?” I asked. “Please.”

Mandy nodded and reached over to grab Cindy’s arm. “I’ll take you to Supervillain Disneyland.”

“Wait, what?” Cindy said, disappearing as the two vanished into the shadows.

I looked over at Gizmo. She was putting away her personal computer into a backpack with Hello Kitty on it.

“I’m a real screw-up as a dad. They’re here because of me.”

Gizmo looked up at me. “I’m a Super, Jewish, and probably queer given my analysis of our genetics. There’s a good chance someone is going to try to kill me at some point in my life. My mom thinks she’d be dead without you, and I know I wouldn’t exist without you for basic biology reasons. You shouldn’t blame yourself. You make the world a better place.”

“I’m a supervillain, Gizmo. I make the world the opposite of a better place. You’re too young to understand otherwise.”

Gizmo smiled. It was adorable. “You are really bad at being a supervillain.”

I really was. “I’ll find you. I promise.”

“Don’t die,” Gizmo said.

Mandy appeared seconds later and scooped up Gizmo. “Hope you don’t mind being with someone you can’t read the mind of.”

“Why wouldn’t I be able to read your mind,” Gizmo said, blinking.

“Vampire.”

“Life does not work like Dungeons and Dragons,” Gizmo said.

Mandy looked sad. “How disappointing.”

My wife then vanished. A great weight lifted off my shoulders. While I might die down here, at least the three people I cared about most would be safe. I was still terrified of Kerri dying or being buried alive like Captain Kirk in the Wrath of Khan or the Bride in Kill Bill, but I had hope now.

“There’s a Darklight trooper sneaking up behind you,” Cloak said.

I shot over my shoulder and he gave a Wilhelm scream as he fell.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“I don’t have any eyes,” Cloak said.

“That just raises more questions!” I channeled my inner Futurama.

I heard rumblings around the Crystal Palace and saw out a transparent steel window that one of the wings had just been blown up. Other Gary was the kind of bastard who blew up or destroyed whatever he couldn’t control. As weird as this underground base was, it was beautiful, and its destruction was a loss to the world.

“What’s the plan?” Cloak said. “Assuming, for some ludicrous reason, you have one.”

“Kill everyone,” I said, channeling an eighties action hero.

“That’s a stupid plan. May I suggest another?”

“No,” I said. “Nothing you could possibly say could convince me there’s a better way to take these bastards out.”

“Put on one of the dead troopers’ armor and replace the part that was shot.”

“Oh, right. That could work.”

It took only a minute to get myself kitted up as one of the Darklight troopers and tune into their feed. They were evacuating the facility but had prisoners. I trotted down to the entranceway, hoping I could catch up before they evacuated. I didn’t have a plan when I arrived, but I’d do anything to save my sister.

In the end, none of that proved necessary.

When I arrived at the lounge where the Darklight troopers were preparing to depart, the place looked like an abattoir. Kerri was leaning down and holding Mister Inventor, who was unconscious and missing an arm, the injury having been crudely treated by field medicine. The rest of the First Citizen’s forces had been torn apart and scattered across the place as if by an army of angry ghosts.

Army of angry ghosts.

Oh.

“Hi, Kerri,” I said, removing my helmet. “I’m here to rescue you.”

Kerri looked up. “Aren’t you a little—”

“Really?” I said. “You’re going to make a Star Wars reference?”

Kerri said, “What? I was going to ask aren’t you a bit late?”

I laughed.

That was when more bombs went off and the Crystal Palace collapsed around us.

Chapter Nineteen

A QUIET MOMENT BEFORE WE GO TO WAR

Well, thankfully, we all didn’t die when the Crystal Palace exploded. I’d killed enough of the Darklight troopers with Mandy to make sure it mostly just detonated around us. There was a lot of falling glass and our ears hurt, but none of us were injured.

Anticlimactic, I know.

Mandy appeared moments later and got the rest of us away, getting us to Club Inferno and removing us from Other Gary’s reach. I’d give a more detailed explanation, but the next few hours were a blur. Even as a seasoned supervillain, the amount of violence and crazy I’d experienced left me in shock. Thankfully, Mandy was smart enough to keep me out of sight of the other supervillains in the Black Witch’s office until my wits returned to me.

The room was a black shag carpeted room with a glass desk, three swivel chairs, a couch, a partially holographic computer, and posters of goth bands I didn’t recognize. I think my first coherent thoughts were the realization that, as a father, I should probably pick a Hanukah movie other than Die Hard.

“Since Hanukah is a celebration of a military victory, that’s an entirely appropriate choice,” Cloak said, helping me with my mental reboot.

“Don’t lecture me on my religion, Cloak,” I said, taking a deep breath before shaking the cobwebs from my brain. “How long has it been?”

“In this hellish place, time has no meaning,” Cloak said. “But three hours have passed in the physical world.”

“Great,” I said aloud, blinking. “Anything I should know?”

That was when Mandy walked in. “We found Other Gary’s mole in Club Inferno’s regulars.”

“Let me guess, the Stupidifier.”

“No, the Polka Dot Zapper.”

“And he seemed like such a trustworthy guy,” I deadpanned before deciding I wasn’t going to try to make any jokes for the next year.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Cloak muttered.

“What happened to him?” I asked.

“Snitches get stitches,” Mandy said. “Traitors get tortured. What they’re doing to him is much worse.”

“I bet Amanda loves that,” I muttered.

“I think she’s become too hard to care,” Mandy said. “I’m sorry to see that. This lifestyle has stripped every bit of idealism from her. The woman who helped rescue this city from Zul-Barbas and his zombies is a very different woman from the woman plotting to assassinate Other Gary’s ruling council after we take him out.”

“She was kidnapped by the Typewriter, her father sacrificed her mother to a Great Beast, she’s stuck with said father, her city was overrun by the undead before becoming a fascist state, and her boyfriend was murdered by Other Gary. Oh, and I keep calling her by the wrong codename,” I said. “Combine that with all the guilt she must be feeling for Undertown and I’m surprised she’s holding out as well as she is.”

“The same could said for you,” Mandy said. “Or me or just about everyone else. Hell, it explains a lot about the Society of Superheroes. How many of them have seen the equivalent of decades of combat?”

“The never-ending battle for truth, justice, and all of that stuff seems a lot less horrifying when it involves fancy costumes and codenames,” I muttered. “Probably why I never gave much thought to the fact that Optimus Prime was fighting a war for millions of years. Poor bastard could have used a memory wipe a few times.”

“Your brain is still not quite right,” Mandy said, taking a seat beside me. “Though I suppose that can’t be blamed on the current situation.”

I smiled. “I’m already wondering if I should search around for a memory-eraser pen so I can remove from my head all the terrible things I’ve seen and done. Being a supervillain was supposed to be about robbing banks and jewelry stores and making quips. It wasn’t supposed to be saving the world so there’s something left to rule. Plus, there’s what I did to you, Mandy, the person I love most in the world. I—”

“Don’t,” Mandy said, reaching over and putting her hand on mine. “I don’t blame you for any of this.”

“You should. I blame myself for all of this stuff.”

If I’d never taken the Reaper’s Cloak and let Mandy take it, she would have been the new Nightwalker. She was the woman most qualified to be a superhero in the city and probably wouldn’t have died at the hands of the dragon. We could have stopped the Brotherhood of Infamy, stopped President Omega, and killed Other Gary before everything completely went to hell.

“You can’t think like that,” Cloak said.

“Watch me,” I mentally replied.

Mandy, however, was making a joke about it. “I don’t even blame you for those paintings you made of everyone in front of a police lineup where I ended up looking like Kate Beckinsale instead of a Eurasian woman. I mean, don’t get me wrong; she’s gorgeous, but I look nothing like her.”

“I admit that’s got all sorts of unfortunate implications.” I grimaced, remembering my attempts to create cover art for my autobiography volumes. “Gabrielle wasn’t happy about losing most of the brown from her face on that. That was just because I ran out of the right paint, though.”

“Then buy some more,” Mandy said. “But I wanted to become a superhero every bit as much as you wanted to become a supervillain. I had that dream since I was a little girl, and my father did his best to drive it out of me. He wanted me to be a Foundation for World Harmony agent like him, which I desperately wanted to avoid because I considered it morally compromised and dirty.”

I looked over at her with a sad expression. “Ouch.”

Mandy gave a sad smile. “Did I ever tell you my story?”

“Given that we’ve been married for almost a decade, yes,” I said. “I wouldn’t sacrifice any of those years, even the ones where we were prisoners.”

“I would,” Mandy said, frowning. “If they were still spent with you. Well, my past relates to now.”

“Why don’t you tell me the story again,” I said, holding her hand. “For old times’ sake.”

“Like most military brats, I grew up abroad,” Mandy said. “But the difference between my family and more conventional ones was I lived right next to the embassy in a postage stamp nation called Londonium. My father was the Foundation for World Harmony representative there until he was promoted when I was eighteen.”

“Yeah, that steampunk city-state on one of the islands no one gives a shit about around Britain. It was founded by the World Emperor in the 19th century. You know, the guy who inspired all those Captain Nemo and Robur the Conqueror sequels.”

Mandy frowned. “I don’t think Londonium qualifies as a steampunk nation because it had a bunch of retro-future tech a hundred years ago.”

“All I’m saying is goggles and overalls on women are awesome,” I said, putting my hand over my chest. “Also, those weird long coats and dueling swords. Tell me you had some growing up.”

“One or two,” Mandy said. “My mother was a Duchess there.”

“Your . . . Korean mother,” I said.

Mandy shrugged. “It’s a bit more progressive there than in other countries. Besides, everyone had a title where I grew up. You couldn’t even open a shopping mall with a Lordship around there. Either way, it was a fun life and I loved it. Except when I was fifteen, I did something stupid.”

“What, got knocked up?” I said.

Mandy frowned.

“Oh shit, really?” I said. “Why am I just hearing about this?”

“Not exactly something I’m happy to talk about,” Mandy said. “We explored a lot of options, but in the end I felt pressured to carry the child to term. I felt violated not because of that, but because my parents took her and found her another home without my consent. It made me determined to get away from my family and forge my own way.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I mean that. I wish you’d confided in me earlier.”

“It wasn’t exactly something I was eager to bring up,” Mandy said.

Especially once we were married and I found out you were eager to be a father. I never wanted to go through an experience like that again.”

“Well, as a vampire you’ll never have to!” I said, making a fist.

Mandy stared.

“God, I am awful,” I said. “Why haven’t you killed me and drunk my blood?”

“It’s tempting,” Mandy said. “But it seems wrong for some reason. What with you being best friends with God and all.”

“Death, not God,” I said. “Though I think they’re related.”

Mandy cocked her head to one side. “Why does she look like me again?”

“Because you’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” I said. “To me, at least.”

Mandy narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, and to everyone else too!” I said, quickly backpedaling. “Barring Guinevere and the Black Witch, but they cheat!”

“Keep digging,” Mandy said, sighing. “The fact is, though, I tried to become an expert in Unusual Criminology at Falconcrest City University. My parents had talked me into being a Foundation for World Harmony agent despite how much I’d resisted it. They argued that I didn’t have superpowers and it was a less heroic life than being one of the people who cleaned up after the Society of Superheroes. You know I ended up sabotaging that by dating the Black Witch. The thing is, though, it’s always been inside me.”

“And now you’re a hero,” I said.

“Am I?” Mandy asked. “I’ve killed more people than you, and that’s not a small number.”

“Well, you’ve got a bit on me in time,” I said, trying to broach this delicately. “It’s OK, I like older women.”

“I’m having your daughter remove those excess memories,” Mandy said. “I think it’s for the best I don’t remember a time that never existed. There’s only a few left anyway. I think they’re naturally fading away.”

I was glad about that, though I didn’t want to admit it. “I always felt that was going to happen in Back to the Future. I mean, if his memories didn’t adjust, poor Marty was going to be stuck with a family of complete strangers who are identical to the losers he grew up with.”

“I think we should make a rule that you’re not allowed to use sci-fi references when I’m sharing deeply personal stuff.”

“No promises,” I said. “But I’ll try.”

“How would you feel if I talked about Rambo when your brother died?”

I paused. “I . . . wouldn’t like it?”

“Exactly,” Mandy said. “But the simple fact is I want to be a hero, and I feel like I’ve failed. I feel like I’ve failed you, Gary. If I’d not let myself get killed or become a monster or stopped Other Gary from capturing us both, then we might have prevented all of this.”

“You’re not God, Mandy,” I said. “With whom I often have serious issues due to his hands-off approach. You also are the reason I do anything to protect anyone. I wouldn’t care to stop First Citizen Jerkbag if not for the fact that I know you want to. You’ve saved the world a couple of times and whether you have fangs or not, you’ll always be the person I love most in this world.”

Mandy reached over and embraced me.

I embraced her back.

Mandy whispered in my ear. “Because of Cindy, I get a free pass to sleep with Ryan Reynolds.”

“That’s fair. I was thinking he could play me in the Merciless movie.”

Mandy stifled laughter with both hands.

“I should be insulted by that,” I said. “But it’s just accurate. I’m still a nine point five, though.”

“Nine point five versus twenty,” Mandy said. “Which is still pretty damn good.”

I smirked. “I’ll see about killing a unicorn and eating its horn to become fairy tale beautiful.”

“And now it’s weird again,” Mandy said. “Why can’t you just reference Agent G spy movies like a normal person?”

“Oh, my love,” I said, taking in her face. “It was always weird.”

The door opened to reveal Mister Inventor—I was going to have to get used to calling him Galahad—with his new cybernetic arm. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“Yes, we were just about to throw down and have passionate bloody sex,” I said.

“Uh-huh,” Galahad said, missing that I was serious. “I wanted to let you know we’re about ready for Operation: Kingslayer.”

“You a Game of Thrones fan?” I asked.

“Who isn’t?” Galahad said. “The way that series ended? Amazing. I can’t wait for George Martin to finish the series.”

“I’ll lend you my copies from the twenty-second century,” I said. “Other Gary knows about this attack. You realize this, right?”

Galahad took a deep breath. “I’ve created a distraction for him by leaking the idea that we’re going after all of his crystal towers simultaneously—”

“What is with all of those, anyway? Is crystal the new steel? What’s next, togas making a comeback?”

Galahad ignored me. “But I expect the factory to be heavily guarded. A lot of people are going to die.”

“It’s war,” Mandy said, standing up. “They’re also supervillains.”

“That doesn’t make it right. And paid mercenaries or not, they’re going to risk their lives in the service of freeing this city from the First Citizen,” Galahad said. “I lost a lot of associates trying to evacuate my inventions from the Crystal Palace so your husband’s doppelgänger couldn’t get them. I won’t forget that, but I won’t let that blind me with vengeance either.”

I stared at him. “You’re the real deal, aren’t you?”

“Someone has to be,” Galahad said. “But honestly, I’m about as real a superhero as you are a supervillain—which you can take to mean whatever you want it to.”

“How’s Cindy?” I asked, intending to visit before we began the attack.

“She’s going to retire after this,” Galahad said. “I told her not to announce that or she was certain to die.”

Mandy and I both smiled.

“I’ll talk to her before we go,” I said. “You’re a good man, Mister Inventor.”

“That and a dollar seventy-five will buy me a bag of chips,” Galahad said, leaving and shutting the door behind him.

I paused, wondering if I was ready to go to war with Other Gary. I was really scared of him killing not just me but also those I cared about.

“So, what do you want to do after we save the world and everything is awesome?” I said, trying to put on a brave face.

“Be a hero,” Mandy said. “Help you take over the world. Drink lots and lots of blood while having lots of sex. The usual.”

“So, no retirement for you, huh?” I asked.

“Why would I ever want to retire?” Mandy said.

I gave a half-smile. “Why would anyone?”

Giving Mandy a short kiss, I walked out to join the rest of the supervillains. Outside, I could hear energy cannons firing against the side of the building, but because it was an extra-dimensional space, it was nothing more than a distant echo. All of Club Inferno’s supervillains were present and kitted out for battle, with a surprising number looking happier than they’d probably been in years.

Gizmo and Kerri were gone, moved to someplace safe. Cindy was wearing an armored version of her Red Riding Hood outfit. It didn’t feel right to be here without Diabloman. I didn’t know if he was alive or dead, but that wasn’t going to stop me. Putting on my mask, I proceeded to address the troops.

It was time to kick the First Citizen’s ass.

Chapter Twenty

WHERE EVERYTHING GOES TO HELL (AGAIN)

Of course, the attack quickly turned into a complete disaster. Supervillains are completely uncontrollable, prone to self-interest, incapable of working as a group, and not particularly interested in avoiding friendly fire. When the Black Witch opened a portal over Merciful’s factory, we all ended up right in the middle of a horde of robot soldiers.

Those, at least, didn’t do any good, because Mandy uploaded a massive computer virus that knocked out virtually all of them before we arrived. That was when the Darklight troopers, Extreme, and Exterminator robots all arrived. Oh, and a bunch of superheroes who were probably going to get themselves killed fighting an army I’d assembled. It was just a stroke of luck the Society of Superheroes was doing battle with a gigantic Chinese volcano monster at that time, or we would have been completely screwed.

As is, we were just partially screwed.

Still, I displayed the characteristic heroism necessary to lead my troops into battle. I had the Black Witch cast an illusion of myself around the Human Tank and had her blasting away enemies in the sky while I, Cindy, Mister Inventor, and Mandy moved through the crowd of supervillains. We were both intangible as well as invisible, making use of a light-bending device my daughter had made. I thought back to her giving it to me, doing my best to concentrate on the positive memories instead of the battle going on around me.

“This is what I call The Thing I use to Steal Cookies,” Gizmo said, handing me the plastic pink lantern covered in pony stickers.

“Can we remove the stickers and get it in a color scheme other than hot pink?” I asked.

“No,” Gizmo said. “No, we may not.”

I smirked. “I wish I could take you with me.”

“No, you don’t,” Gizmo said. “I’ll be fine. You need to survive, though.”

I took a deep breath. “I’d like to be a father to you. I just have no idea how to be one.”

“Do what your dad did,” Gizmo said. “You think he did a decent enough job.”

“Disapprove of everything you do?” I asked. “Admittedly, I deserved it.”

Gizmo smiled. “I think it’s enough to know you love me. Also, that you’re going to overthrow the world’s worst dictator.”

“I’ll do my best.” I gave her a hug and prayed for the first time in a while, begging God to let me come back to her. I was then brought back to the present by Cindy’s voice.

“This isn’t very heroic, Gary,” Cindy said, walking beside me as we passed the Ballerina kicking the crap out of Hardtop Harry.

I raised my hand. “Supervillain. Us not being heroes is kind of the point.”

“We’re using them as human shields,” Cindy said, looking over to the crushed skull of Butcher Pete. “Not cool. Not cool at all.”

“You’ve been spending too much time around superheroes,” I said, shrugging. “Besides, not all of them are human.”

“No honor among thieves, huh?” Cindy said, sounding disappointed.

“Thieves? Yes,” I said. “Terrorists, murderers, and rapists? No.”

Back when I was still a wannabe supervillain, I’d had a lot of misconceptions about what being one would be like. I’d gotten that from my brother’s gang, who weren’t exactly typical supervillains. The Nefarious Nine was a family who had my brother’s back, and they would never, ever betray one another.

Or so I’d thought.

During Mandy’s unfortunate period of being a soulless monster, I’d found out they’d routinely turned on each other for bigger scores or leniency from the police. One of them, Hothouse, had even given up my brother Keith’s secret identity to the police. Not to mention how they’d treated the Human Tank after she’d made her transition. Thugs with super-technology, it turned out, were still thugs.

“Casualties are inevitable in wartime. Besides, some of these guys are the worst,” Mandy said, reaching over and snapping the neck of the Slaver before I snapped my fingers, causing the human trafficker’s body to burst into flames.

“What do you think?” Cindy asked Galahad.

“I think you should have made a bigger effort to save the lives of your soldiers,” Galahad said. “We’re all heroes today, fighting the good fight. Well, except the guy you just killed. Fuck that guy.”

“A lot of these people are assholes,” I said defensively. “Quite a few of them deserve to die, but they are people whose freedom I will work to preserve, for reasons I can’t quite explain. Oh right, yes, I can—vengeance. In which case, I am fully capable and willing to sacrifice all of them as long as it protects the people I love and fucks up Other Gary’s shit.”

“Well, some of these guys are my friends,” Cindy said. “A very small some. So let’s hope they make it through so we can get Gabrielle.”

“She’s your friend too,” I said.

“Is she?” Cindy said. “Then where was Gabrielle after she broke up with you? I could have used you both.”

“I’m sorry, Cindy,” I said. “I am.”

I had taken Cindy for granted during our friendship, especially when I’d let our relationship progress to the point where she’d fallen in love with me. I realized that was a mistake now, even if I would never regret it due to Gizmo. The prospect of having a child gave me a giddy feeling; it was like someone had taken a syringe of pure joy and jabbed it into my brain.

“Your metaphors could use some work,” Cloak said.

“I work with my experience,” I thought back to him. “Besides, winners don’t use drugs.”

“I have no idea if that means you didn’t use them or use them all the time.”

“Whichever is funnier to you.”

“What about Cindy?” Cloak asked.

“I dunno where we stand,” I admitted.

I thought back to the conversation we’d had right before the attack. I’d been hoping it would be able to settle things between us, but just the opposite had happened. We were sitting inside one of Club Inferno’s alcoves with Kerri looking after Gizmo nearby. Cindy had spent the past hour helping to assemble Mister Inventor’s cybernetic arm with the aid of Mechani-Carl. Personally, I’d never been too much of a fan of Carl Stringel. There was something about his voice that annoyed the hell out of me. I’d just explained to Cindy what my plans post-overthrowing the First Citizen were.

“Are you frigging serious?” Cindy said, her mouth hanging open. “God!”

“Excuse me,” I said, raising my hands. “Which part are you upset about?”

“The fact that you’re not retiring after Other Gary but continuing being a supervillain?” Cindy said. “Are you mad?”

I resisted the obvious rejoinder. “I’m not exactly going to be able to disappear, Cindy. Taking down Other Gary is—”

“That’s not the reason and you know it,” Cindy said, looking away. “It’s because Mandy wants to be a superhero.”

I blinked. “Wow, you are amazing.”

“We’ve known each other since we were teenagers,” Cindy said, shaking her head. “You’re a father now, Gary. You’ve seen what this insanity gets us. Your daughter could have died.”

“I know,” I said, staring at her. “I had to listen to my brother Keith’s ghost tell me how much of an enormous screw-up I was forever wanting to be a supervillain. I’ve lost five years of my life in a prison that closely resembles my vision of hell. Mandy died and became something she hated. I . . .” I trailed off, having a lot more to say but no reason to say it.

“Then why?” Cindy asked. “Once the First Citizen is gone, we can just stop, can’t we?”

“Can we?” I asked. “Death has me as her chosen and Lancel’s soul on the line.”

“Don’t use me as an excuse,” Cloak said.

“It never will stop,” I said, staring at her. “Even if we did retire, it would just come after us. I was ready to stop after Mandy died and the damn president of the United States bombed my house.”

“Our house,” Cindy said.

I closed my eyes. “It’s not as easy as you’re making it out to be.”

I clenched my fists. My experiences should have broken me, but they just made me angry. Angry that so much of my life had been wasted and nothing seemed to have gotten better. I’d started this whole ordeal to honor my brother, but it’d warped into a burning desire to tear this entire façade of society down to its roots. I wondered how much of it was my imprisonment. Could I really say I was myself after so much brainwashing? Did I want to be?

“You have a child now,” Cindy said. “We have a child now. We should have put her first.”

I looked away. “I can’t ask Mandy to try to live a normal life after everything she’s been through. Not when she doesn’t want one.”

“Did you even ask her?” Cindy stared into my eyes.

I looked away.

Cindy took a deep breath. “If you’re going to keep doing this kind of thing, I don’t know if I can keep our daughter around you.”

I turned away and clenched my fists before unclenching them, feeling like a dozen knives were being stabbed into me. “Please don’t do that.”

Cindy didn’t respond. “This is literally the first decision I’ve ever made for the good of my child. Well, that and telling her not to try and drill a hole in her head to increase her psychic powers. I think our daughter is kind of weird. Have you noticed?”

I didn’t respond, though, as I was on the verge of tears. I couldn’t choose between Mandy and my daughter.

But I had to.

Cindy seemed to realize just what she was doing. “Gary—”

“I need to know I can come back to her,” I said, holding back a flood of emotion. “I’ve lost so much.”

Cindy looked away. “I swear, all of the things that make me love you are the things that make it impossible to be with you.”

“I’ll always be there for you,” I said. “But—”

“No buts,” Cindy said, walking past me. “Just don’t die and we’ll see what happens. Just don’t expect my will to state that you should get her if you’re robbing banks and committing urban terrorism on rich jackasses.”

“You don’t have a will,” I said.

“That’s not the point!”

My mind returned to the present as I took a good long look at the power plant we were going to invade. The—I kid you not—Acme Power Plant looked like an ordinary mid-20th-century coal plant. It was ten stories tall with large smoke stacks, transformers, and hundreds of opaque windows, quite a few of them busted. There were numerous fire escapes crisscrossing the place and graffiti painted on the sides. Looking at the place, though, I could see Merciful’s handiwork, as the graffiti included peace signs and words like “groovy” and lacked Falconcrest City’s usual racial epithets.

Looking back to see Big Ben pilot a teddy-bear-shaped mecha with a glass-bubble-covered cockpit, I shook my head and found the nearest way into the facility. Of course, the doors were reinforced steel and covered in magic runes to block insubstantiality. Cindy lifted a double-bladed laser sword that was entirely not copyrighted by the Disney Corporation and used it to cut a hole for us to pass through.

“We’re almost there,” Mandy said. “This is the heart of the First Citizen’s power. Why else would it be guarded so heavily?”

“Any number of reasons,” Mister Inventor said, looking back at the battle behind us. “Frankly, you don’t know Gabrielle Anders is here. You don’t even know if this is the central hub for all of the crystal towers’ gathered energy. You just hope.”

“Rebellions are built on hope,” I said, trying to avoid thinking about how that movie ended.

Mandy stepped through the hole I’d made first, followed by me, Cindy, and Galahad. What greeted us on the other side was a perfect contrast to the power plant’s exterior. The place was a single massive arcane-technology super-engine full of pipes, catwalks, and turbines that processed the life-energy collected from America’s largest cities.

All of it was gathered in a gigantic blue lake seventy feet beneath us. I could feel the magic beneath us and in the air even as a force field kept it from leaking out everywhere. In the middle of a crystal tube, surrounded by that blue water with hundreds of wires attached to it, was Gabrielle, floating with her eyes closed like a sleeping princess.

Mandy blinked at the sight greeting us. “My God, this is straight out of Final Fantasy VII. I could make like a hundred jokes now. Me, not Gary.”

“Please don’t,” Cindy said, stepping forward. “You were right, Gary. Gabrielle has been here all along.”

“The free energy of the United States comes from vampirizing its greatest heroine,” Galahad said, looking up.

“Please don’t use hate speech around me,” Mandy said.

The very African American Galahad Warren gave her a glare.

Mandy blinked. “OK, you can.”

I ran up a nearby set of metal stairs across a catwalk to what looked like a set of controls for Gabrielle’s prison. It turned out to not be because nothing here was labeled. Still, I was about ready to tear this place apart.

Gabrielle was special to me. I would never entirely get over the fact that she’d erased my memory of her being Ultragoddess, or the fact she’d dumped me rather than let me be put in the crossfire of her enemies. Still, she was someone I believed to be genuinely good. A person who didn’t just play at being a superhero, but was one when it was hard as well as when it was easy. If anyone could make this world right again, it was she.

“She’s a hero, not God,” Cloak said, echoing my words. “You’re much the same way.”

“Not even close. Her father did it. She can too,” I said. “You did, to an extent. You could inspire people. Inspire people to be better. We need some of that now.”

Cloak was silent for a moment. “Perhaps I should just focus on figuring out a way to unhook Gabrielle from the machinery here. I’m more familiar with magic and super-science than you in the same way a neurosurgeon is more familiar with the human brain than a medieval court jester.”

“Perhaps you should,” I said, ignoring his insult.

I found a computer, which I logged into using my dogs’ names. It gave me a thousand possible files to go through to release Gabrielle, but I was willing to do so. I needed to get Mandy over here since hacking was her thing. That was when I noticed none of the others were present.

Ah, dammit.

“Hellfire and damnation,” Cloak said. “I should have seen this coming. Other Gary has an agent cloaked here. I can sense the spell work now.”

“What was that about being more familiar with magic and super-science?”

“Oh hush!”

I turned around and saw Shadowman decloak like the Predator, standing on the catwalk behind me. He was holding an unconscious Cindy, Galahad, and Mandy. All three of them were being held in tendrils that looked more ominous than the ones he’d sported before. I could feel him radiating magic and realized the nanite-based superhero had been upgraded with a hefty dose of supernatural power—presumably so he didn’t embarrass himself like he did at the Merciful building. I tried freezing him again and felt the energy getting absorbed into his liquid-metal body.

“Huh,” I said, trying not to panic. “I would have thought they’d give a bigger fight.”

“My upgrades allowed me to electrocute them all,” Shadowman said, casually tossing them on a platform below. “Don’t worry, they’ll live. My father gave me orders to kill only you. The rest will be taken off for reprocessing.”

“Yeah,” I said sarcastically, trying to make it seem like they weren’t valuable hostages. “You’re a real big hero, aren’t you?”

“Killing evildoers is good,” Shadowman said. “That is the law of Merciful.”

I breathed a sigh of relief that Other Gary Junior didn’t realize what they meant to me or didn’t care. “You really worship your dad, don’t you?”

Shadowman shot out of some of his tendrils and I ducked to one side while turning insubstantial. They smashed into the computer behind me and sent sparks flying my way. I could feel the movement of the air from where he struck, letting me know he was enchanted to kill me whether I was intangible or not.

“He is a hero,” Shadowman said, slowly walking forward like a slasher in a horror movie. “One who will bring peace to this world and an end to crime. Once monsters like you are destroyed, the world will finally know peace.”

I realized in that moment I was facing a man who took superheroism deadly seriously. Shadowman and his ink-like body of nanites was too strong to beat in a straight fight, but he was eager to prove himself. That gave me the key to beating him. Well, that and the fact that we were surrounded by sensitive scientific equipment and standing above a huge pool of collected magic.

“Gary, what are you planning?” Cloak said.

“My most diabolical scheme yet,” I said before whispering one of the few spells I knew under my breath. I called it Merciless’s Malign Margins. I’d created the cantrip after one too many Irish cups of coffee while trying to figure out the rudiments of magic.

Shadowman leaped at me, only for me to duck underneath his blow before punching him in the face with a flaming fist. Between us, a huge neon-pink sign of the word BLAM appeared.

“What the . . . what the hell?” Shadowman said, looking as stunned that my spell worked as I was.

I stared at Shadowman, taking advantage of his confusion. “So, Shadowman, you’ve decided to walk the twilight between truth and twistedness, eh? Well, it’s lights out for you, as your tenebrous tendrils are no match for my tough tenacity.”

“Why are you talking like . . . what?” Shadowman said, right before I punched him again.

This time, a glowing WHOOMP appeared between us in yellow. I then blasted him in the face with another round of flames, sending him spiraling backwards as much of his blackish form fizzled. That caused a green BURN sign to appear.

“Ha, ha, ha,” I said, not actually laughing but saying the words. “Does my churlish cartoonishness confound you? Of course. The confusing conundrums of the Crooked Count of Chaos cannot be countered! Creatures such as myself are capable and collected while capes canter confusedly!”

“You used confused twice,” Cloak said.

“Shut up,” I snapped. Then I raised my hands and caused flames to shoot up behind me. “Cower before me, Champion of the City! Cower or be creamed! Children are changing channels when we’re not challenging our chutzpah!”

“Superheroism is not for kids!” Shadowman screamed and ran at me, wildly.

I proceeded to take a step back, turn intangible, and blast the emergency coolant container beside me. The grayish goop washed over Shadowman and he screamed, the substance freezing him completely. Unfortunately, it froze him much more thoroughly than my earlier blast, which had only contained him. The Shadowman’s weird nanite body proceeded to crack, splinter, and fall apart before my eyes. To add insult to injury, above our heads the last of the signs appeared with the blue word FROSTY.

“Sub Zero wins,” I said. “Fatality.”

“That was a bit like Terminator 2, wasn’t it?” Cloak surprised me by observing.

“Really?” I asked. “That’s your complaint.”

“I’m just saying, you had a pair of guns enchanted to kill anything,” Cloak said. “It seems like they might have worked.”

I blinked. “Oh right.”

That was when I felt a presence rise behind me. It felt like Gabrielle’s but was slightly off. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Starlight Maiden hovering behind me. Gone was her girlish exterior and idealism, replaced with white-hot rage as her eyes and body glowed with the Ultraforce. She then shouted, “You killed my brother, you craven creep!”

OK, this was going to suck.

Chapter Twenty-One

WHERE I FACE THE ONE DECENT PERSON IN THE MERCIFUL REGIME

“Holy mismatch,” I said, doing my best Sunlight imitation. “My carnival of calamity is in crisis! Whatever will I do against this caped criticizer of my cruelty!”

Starlight Maiden just looked at me. “I normally enjoy a good bit of banter, but that’s just sick after murdering someone.”

“He’s a robot!” I snapped, refusing to dignify this moment with gravitas. “You can rebuild him! Faster, better, stronger!”

Starlight Maiden frowned in a way that reminded me of Gabrielle. “Just because we’re androids doesn’t mean that we don’t have feelings. I believe in the Creator and that he gave us souls! They can rebuild my brother, yes, but how will I know if it’s really him?”

I blinked. “I could probably tell you, actually, what with my being a psychopomp servant of Death. That’s not going to happen, though, because I have to stop you.”

Starlight Maiden crossed her arms, hovering in the air. It was distressingly adorable. “No, sir, I’m going to stop you.”

“I’d like to see you—”

“No, Gary, don’t!” Cloak shouted.

“What?” I asked.

That was when Starlight Maiden surrounded me in an airtight Ultra-Force bubble. I considering blasting out with my fire powers, but that would just burn up the oxygen inside as well as kill me. The same thing would happen if I used my ice powers. I tried to turn intangible, but it did no good there either. Dammit. I hated prepared enemies.

“I jinxed it, didn’t I?” I said, already feeling lightheaded.

“I’m afraid you did,” Cloak said.

“I’m going to keep you inside this bubble until you pass out, then deliver you for trial,” Starlight Maiden said. “You’ve killed a lot of innocent people, Gary Karkofsky of this world, and that requires judgment. I just pray we’re able to restore my brother.”

I stared at her. “Lady, are you blind? Have you looked outside your window to what your father has done to the world?!”

“Father brought peace after World War Three,” Starlight Maiden said, settling down in front of my bubble. “When America was on the verge of economic collapse, he gave jobs and showed us a better path. He’s what you could have been if you’d chosen to use your powers for good rather than evil.”

“He started World War Three!” I snapped, staring at her in disgust. “This is not a conspiracy theory or truther thing! He really, really did! Look behind you! He has Ultragoddess, one of the biggest superheroes in the world, imprisoned!”

For the first time, I noticed a hint of doubt on Starlight Maiden’s face. I couldn’t see it clearly since everything was getting blurry, but the expression was something approaching guilt. Also fear. Two emotions I was deeply acquainted with.

“It’s a healing chamber for Ultragoddess,” Starlight Maiden said, clenching her fists. “Father says it’s going to eventually bring her back to us.”

“It’s . . . powering . . . his empire,” I said, falling to my knees. “Everything here.”

Starlight Maiden closed her eyes. “I . . . suspected that was the case. You don’t know the full truth of the Acme Power Plant, though. It is the heart of the Omega Corp Free Energy Initiative. An initiative that powers not only everything on the eastern United States but also the entire sum of the Falconcrest City Defense Force. Every suit of powered armor, mecha, teleportation bracelet, and artificial being keeping this city running. Including me.”

Ah, dammit. That explained a few things. No wonder she could use the Ultraforce.

Gizmo’s voice appeared in my head. “You shouldn’t let this stand, Mindy. You were built better than this.”

Starlight Maiden looked up. “Who? What? Who is in my head?”

“No,” I choked out. “Go away. Don’t contact us. You’ll lead the First Citizen right to you.”

“Sorry, dad,” Gizmo said, her voice clearly connecting me and Mindy. “I can’t just watch you die. I’ve just met you. I’ve hooked myself up to a telepathy booster and got it programmed to communicate with her A.I. central processor. It took me a whole half hour to make it, but it’s worth it!”

I blinked. “OK, I think you’re god-modding the whole super-inventor thing. We need to have a serious talk about power-gaming.”

“I’m not going to kill him, little girl,” Starlight Maiden said, stepping down in front of me. “I’ve done my best to make sure all of the supervillains outside are disabled rather than killed. Merciless is going to prison instead.”

“The prison your father is going to send him to is worse than he deserves,” Gizmo said. “Look inside his mind and see what sort of person my father is. See how different a person he is from your father.”

I was starting to black out now and collapsed, my face to the catwalk beneath me. “No, that will just make things . . . worse.”

Starlight Maiden looked torn before crossing her arms underneath her breasts. “All right. I’d like to see what’s inside him.”

That sounded so very wrong.

“He’s not a good man,” Gizmo said, not helping my case. “He’s angry, ambitious, controlling, lustful, and full of wrath. He’s not a bad man, either. Despite his protestations, he’s capable of incredible good and sympathy. So much of the pain he’s inflicted is because he wants desperately for people not to suffer the kind of agony he did.”

“So, he’s very much like father,” Starlight Maiden said. “Which means this entire war is between two people in pain.”

“Except your father blames the entire world,” Gizmo said. “So the infliction of pain will never stop.”

The Ultraforce bubble around me disappeared and allowed cool air to come into my lungs. Things started to get clearer and less blurry. I was tempted to attack her during the distraction but forced that act down. Not just because it would have been suicidal, but also because I felt for her. It was one thing to be betrayed by your idol, another thing when said person was your creator.

“And what about you, Nightwalker?” Starlight Maiden stared down at me. She wasn’t talking to me, though. “You held to a code to never kill in your life and saved the world countless times. What do you think of this person who has used your powers to destroy rather than save?”

Cloak was silent.

“Gee, thanks Cloak,” I muttered.

Cloak surprised me then. “Good and evil. People are always pretending it’s a dichotomy made up by society. However, just because they only exist inside a person doesn’t mean they’re not real. They are elements of the psyche constantly at war. Always developing, always changing. I have been inside the mind of Gary Karkofsky so very long it’s sometimes hard to tell my thoughts from his, and that terrifies me. It is easy to fall into his perspective and cheer when he lashes out. However, a man cannot be judged by only the bad, but also by the good. He is here to rescue a woman he loves, save the city, and protect the world. In that, he is a hero. Which is all that matters today. I also love him as the son I wish I had.”

“And yet you never taught him your secrets of magic,” Starlight Maiden said, narrowing her eyes. “You could have made him as powerful as you were. Instead, you let him flounder around with the barest hints of your former power.”

“I did not think I could teach him well,” Cloak said. “Not that he hasn’t saved this world twice. Gary, would not sacrifice himself for the people of the world. He would, however, sacrifice himself for those he loved. Which is more than I can say for your father—a man who loves only the memories of those he dishonors every day.”

“Ouch,” I said. “Buuuuuuurn.”

Starlight Maiden looked up into the top of the factory, then beyond it. “The battle is almost over. The Society of Superheroes auxiliary has almost defeated your army. Reinforcements are arriving to subdue the ones who aren’t fleeing. It would be very easy to just let my father win and choose the lesser evil.”

“Evil is not like cola; there’s not diet option,” I said, climbing to my feet. “If you want to just throw down, that’s your own business. I don’t blame the Society of Superheroes for being tyrants and I wouldn’t blame you. Just don’t pretend you’re fucking heroes because there’s not a damn thing heroic about what you’re doing to Gabrielle—a woman whom your father has imprisoned and tortured. Whose father he murdered, one of the greatest of all heroes. Whom he is using as a fucking Duracell battery. If you want to be the bad guy, I’m all for it, but you are not worthy of wearing that cape if you let her suffer a minute longer.”

Starlight Maiden looked at me. “Even if I die?”

I looked down. “Yes.”

Starlight Maiden lowered her head, looking on the verge of tears. “It’s like Those who walk away from Omelas.”

“What?” Cloak said.

Gizmo answered for me. “It’s a classic sci-fi story by Ursula K. Le Guin about what would happen if you lived in a society where everything was utopian and wonderful. Except, for whatever reason, it was powered by a tortured little girl who was necessary for the system to work. The story said every year some of the people walked away into the desert, unable to live with the joys they had brought about by her suffering. Personally, I always thought it was a poorly conceived power source.”

“I always thought it was a metaphor for Western Civilization because that is powered by a lot more children than just one,” I said. “But it’s exactly like that.”

Starlight Maiden closed her eyes. “I’m scared.”

“You should be,” I said. “But it’s OK to be.”

Big Ben’s mecha crashed through the eastern wall, a bunch of supervillains beside it as Darklight soldiers burst through, shooting stun rays at them. We were running out of time and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

“He’s here,” Gizmo said in my mind. “Other Gary has decided to finish this mission himself. I need to break our link before he finds out where Kerri and I are hidden. Good luck, Dad.”

“I don’t believe in luck,” I said, looking to where the wall had collapsed. “Only horrible coincidences of circumstance that invariably come down on my head.”

“I’ll use my power reserves to keep the system going so there won’t be any civilian casualties from the power shutdown,” Starlight Maiden said, turning and aiming her hand at Gabrielle’s cage. “It’s been an honor, Mister Karkofsky.”

“Likewise,” I said, wishing I had her courage.

Starlight Maiden fired a beam of white-gold Ultraforce energy into the air and smashed through the tube that was cradling Gabrielle. The energy encircled her; I could feel it enter her and swirl around. In an instant, she went from being a comatose prisoner to an extremely pissed-off supervillain.

While I couldn’t see it, I imagined the lights going out across the Eastern seaboard with only emergency services and systems still online. Outside, I heard the zipping of energy blasts from the Darklight troopers cease. It seemed even their guns were Ultra-Force powered.

Gabrielle’s superhero costume appeared around her, and her eyes crackled with power. I’d seen her furious before, but this was something else. I could only imagine what was going through her mind as she realized that not only had she been imprisoned for five years, but also, the Society of Superheroes had made no real effort to find her. Surely, they would have noticed their ally’s armies were powered by the Ultraforce and questioned where that energy came from.

There was going to be hell to pay.

“Bastards!” Gabrielle shouted, her voice echoing through the chamber. The Extreme, all wearing rocket packs, smashed through the opaque skylight above to engage her. She destroyed all of them with a streak of lightning-fast attacks I could only follow from the tracer-like pattern left behind her. I made a mental note to break into Other Gary’s headquarters after this and see if I could wipe their memories from his databanks. I was getting real sick of the Extreme’s save scumming.

It was a bit of an anticlimax, but the Ringwraiths died when Mount Doom exploded, so I couldn’t say it didn’t happen in great works of art too. Personally, I would have made a sequel with the Witch King taking over to menace the next age, but that was just me. I would have called it There and Back Again, Again: The Hobbits’ Revenge.

“Oooo, he’s going to get it now,” I said, smiling broadly. Even if Other Gary managed to win, he wasn’t going to be able to prove he wasn’t responsible for keeping Gabrielle prisoner this entire time. Even if the public accepted his rationale, which I doubted they would barring brainwashing, it was going to be the end of his claims of moral superiority.

“I doubt that,” Cloak said. “We need to win this battle if we’re going to save the city. History is written by the winners, and only historians care about doomed moral victors.”

“Point taken,” I said, grinning briefly.

Starlight Maiden had collapsed on the ground. “I’m glad I was able to do the right thing. It was harder than I expected.”

I rushed over to the side of the dying android before lifting her up with her arm over my left shoulder. Starlight Maiden was heavier than she looked, which made sense since she was mostly plastic and circuits. “Come on, Mindy, we can get you a battery plug-in to keep you going for a bit longer. Nobody else has to die tonight.”

Mindy blinked rapidly. “I don’t think that’s going to be possible, Mister Karkofsky. I feel everything shutting down and corroding. My systems weren’t designed to survive past losing power. I think—I think my father didn’t want me potentially passing on his secrets. I do believe you may have been right that he was a bad person.”

“No,” I said. “He’s a good person. He just happens to be an awful one. He’s also not your father, since no true father would have treated like you like this. Listen, I’m kind of terrible at resurrecting people, but I say practice makes perfect—”

“Goodbye, Mister Karkofsky,” Starlight Maiden said. “Again.”

With that, Starlight Maiden went limp in my arms. I cradled the android’s body in my arms as the life went out of her eyes. Above me, Gabrielle continued to rip up Other Gary’s forces even as more reinforcements came wielding conventional weaponry.

“You are really an annoyance,” Other Gary said, drawing my attention. “Did I ever tell you that?”

The white-cloaked superhero was splattered with blood and visibly pissed. Behind him, I could see the unconscious form of Adonis and his lover Erudite. There were other supervillains behind him, like the Crackerjack and Sir Question. Big Ben had been ripped in half and the stuffed animal was crawling after my doppelgänger on the catwalk’s grating, waving a box cutter as he shouted obscenities.

I looked down at Starlight Maiden’s fallen form before gently putting her aside. Her body clunked against the grating harder than I wanted.

Both Garys were finally face to face, and one of us was not going to leave this power plant alive. Possibly both of us. I didn’t care.

Chapter Twenty-Two

THE FINAL SHOWDOWN BETWEEN ME, MYSELF, AND I

“Your daughter is dead,” I said, shaking my head. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“She was no more my daughter than a portrait or sculpture of her was,” Other Gary said, shaking his head. “Besides, I’m not the person who killed her. You did that when you rescued Gabrielle from the Grand Capacitor. Who knows how many people you’ve killed now that there’s a shutdown of Ultraforce-provided electricity across the East Coast.”

I shook my head. “You are pathologically incapable of accepting that anything is your fault, aren’t you?”

“Grand words from the man who decided to be a supervillain and ruined the lives of everyone he loved,” Other Gary said. “Mandy’s death and vampirism followed by centuries of torment are all on you. Your mistress, Cindy, is traumatized by the fact that her daughter almost died because she felt opposing me was better than accepting the way things were. Diabloman is going to die too. I intend to put him on trial for destroying my universe and make sure he’s healthy enough to serve a lifetime of torture for every single person killed by his misdeeds. Justice will be long and drawn out rather than swift.”

“Good guys don’t torture,” I snarled.

“I’ll call it something else when I get the courts to legalize it,” said Other Gary. “‘Justice’ is another word for revenge, after all. The only difference is the victim. Society is built upon paying evil unto evil, and I’m going to do it until this world is scoured clean of filth like you.”

I took a deep breath and drew my pistols. “You know, screw talking. I’ve had enough of your bullshit. We may look alike, but we are nothing alike inside.”

Other Gary smiled. “The only difference between you and me, Gary, is a matter of stakes. You’ve cut a bloody swath through everyone who has stood in your path. You’ve ruined the lives of those you love. You’ve betrayed friends and allies to achieve your goals. You’ve built an empire while claiming to be an anarchist. I, however, am going to fix this world. To help everyone. You can’t even help yourself.”

I aimed my pistols at his chest and pulled their triggers repeatedly. The bullets shot forth, only for glowing discs to appear in the air around Other Gary’s head. I shot repeatedly, but I wasn’t very good, and the little blasts of hellfire did exactly nada to the guy.

“Uh oh,” I muttered.

That was when Other Gary pointed at the pistol in my right hand and it cut itself in half. He aimed at the second and I dropped it. I proceeded to conjure every bit of flame in my body and hurled it like a blast of death at Other Gary.

“Hadoken!” I shouted.

The fire washed across Other Gary as if it were raindrops.

“I’ve been building my power up for the past five years,” Other Gary said, walking forward. “You, however, have been stuck in a hole.”

“A hole you put me into!” I threw ice blasts at him.

They turned into steam, melted by a golden aura Other Gary conjured around himself. “Indeed. Perhaps that should have been your first clue to stay down.”

He then grabbed me by the throat and started to strangle me. I grabbed his hands and tried to pull them away before deliberately falling to my knees.

“Goodbye, Gary,” Other Gary said. “I really am sorry—SON OF A BITCH!”

That last line was due to my grabbing the jagged remnant of my first gun and jabbing it into his femoral artery. He’d obviously prepped for dealing with all my spells and attacks but not necessarily for thinking outside of the box. Which is what I did best.

“That and your guns are made of pure anti-life matter,” Cloak said. “I doubt regular weapons would have done anything.”

That was when Other Gary’s leg wound started to heal and his eyes blaze. “You’re going to pay for that.”

“Ah crap,” I said, using the gun’s lower half like a pair of brass knuckles to stun Other Gary. They smacked through his defenses and gave me my first real chance to beat the holy hell out of my doppelgänger. “Cloak, I have a really stupid idea that will probably get us both killed.”

“I’m up for it,” Cloak said. “Even if I don’t see any way out of this.”

“I do,” I whispered, hitting Gary again before he blocked my third strike, then kneed me in the stomach.

The problem was, my plan was a suicide gambit. There was no way in hell I could beat Other Gary in a way that would permanently kill him. He was immortal, and for all my pretensions to being the Chosen of Death, that didn’t give me any special insight into murdering the guy. Still, I had an idea of where he got his power, and that let me know I could probably take it away from him—if I was willing to give up my life doing it.

I didn’t want to die, any more than the Starlight Maiden had. She had been a good person, every bit as much as Gabrielle in her own way. However, I didn’t exactly see any other way around this. Honestly, deep down, if it had been a choice between killing Other Gary and fleeing, then I probably would have chosen the latter. His earlier offer about leaving reality sounded better and better each minute. He’d tried to kill Gizmo, though, and if he was alive, then he’d do it again or try to raise her himself. I wasn’t going to let him get away with doing that. I just needed Cloak’s permission first. It was his life too, after all.

“Are you sure, Cloak?” I asked, as Other Gary grabbed me by the shoulders and started filling me with a painful burning energy that drove out my Death-granted powers. If I guessed right, I suspected it would eventually burn away my insides and make it impossible for Death to restore me. Poetic.

“I’m already dead,” Cloak said. “Do what you have to.”

“Gotcha,” I said, grabbing Other Gary and lifting him up over the catwalk side. “I’m sorry, Gizmo, I really wanted to come back to you.”

“I’m sorry too, Dad,” Gizmo said, revealing she’d been watching this entire time.

“Die,” Other Gary said. “Die and stay dead.”

I interrupted Other Gary by jumping over with him into the glowing blue lake below as both of us disappeared into raw mystical power. I strangled Gary as he strangled me back, the two of us washed over by the raw, distilled life-force of billions. Had I not distracted him, Other Gary could have shielded himself. I might have been able to do the same. Both of us instead disappeared, dissolved into the greater mystical force.

Being both of us were necromancers, that wasn’t the end of it. The two of us found ourselves surrounded by glowing blue light and strange, free-floating crystals. I thought it looked like a combination of outer space with the interior of an aquarium.

The water of the energy washed over us and flowed even as weird twinkling lights moved all around us. Most of all, however, magic surrounded us. This was where Other Gary had collected his massive amount of stolen life-force. The billions he’d murdered across several timelines were fed into the reservoir and stored across the crystal towers that all linked here. We were in the center now.

Other Gary, for his part, looked more amused than threatened. “So, this was your big plan? Dumping me in the middle of the center of my power? Brilliant.”

“I have access to it too,” I said, shaking my head.

“Yes, but you’re an awful wizard,” Other Gary said. “This will be easy to deal with. My life will return and I will wash away your armies. Forget killing you. I’m going to make sure you never existed.”

I mentally called out to the billions of people Other Gary had murdered with his plan. “I don’t think so.”

That was when a weird snake-like skeleton wrapped around one of Other Gary’s arms, followed by another one. A strange white glowing tentacle stretched out from the infinity around us to grab another of Other Gary’s legs.

“What the—?” Other Gary said.

“You have the biggest storehouse of necromantic energy in the history of everything,” I said, surprised this was working. “Most people don’t become ghosts when they die, but the ones who died in violence and with regrets have a bigger tendency to become them. I figured that all the people you murdered and stored the life-force of would have issues with you.”

Other Gary blew off his attackers with blasts of golden light before a hundred piranha-like spirits charged at him, only to be blasted away themselves. This attracted more attention, and he was soon blasting everything around him.

“This is an irritation, nothing more!” Other Gary shouted, sounding less confident than he usually did.

“No, it’s a distraction,” I said, taking a deep breath despite the fact that I no longer technically had a body. “Cloak, can you show me how to channel this energy?”

“How much of it? I’ve been surrounded by mystical wellsprings before, but this is an ocean compared to lakes,” Cloak said, still with me despite the destruction of my physical body. It was rather disappointing since my original plan was he’d be resurrected in here and handle things for me. Whoops.

“All of it,” I said, stretching out my arms. “We can’t let any of this be harnessed by people like me. Except well, right now.”

“You won’t be able to survive that much,” Cloak said. “It’s not meant for mortal bodies.”

“We’re already dead.”

“I take back everything I ever said about you. Well, most of it.”

“Let’s not make this mushy.”

Cloak then merged his mind with mine and for a single moment, I had a hundred years’ worth of being the world’s greatest magic-using superhero. That gave me just the right amount of knowledge to do the spell I wanted to do. I drew in all the energy inside me, pulling it through Cloak and into my soul.

Other Gary seemed to realize what I was doing. “No!”

“Yes,” I said. “Unlimited power!”

That was when the world exploded. At least the one I was in. It’s a weird sensation, dying, even weirder becoming a god—or at least half-a-god. I became one with the reservoir of magic in a way Other Gary had never been willing to risk. I could see other dimensions, the future, the past, old friends long . . . well, you know the drill.

I understood how the Primals were fragments of a greater celestial consciousness. I understood how the Great Beasts were errors in the cosmos. I even comprehended what angels, demons, spirits, and other gods were. I saw other galaxies, civilizations, and countless variations on the timelines that had produced me.

Weird—the biggest revelation was that I already knew most of this, as it had been recited to me by my stoner roommate Reggie. Who knew that guy had been the most enlightened being in the universe?

Either way, I knew how to make use of the power within me. Other Gary was too arrogant, too full of hubris, to humble himself before the powers of the cosmos. I, on the other hand, was perfectly happy to kneel before the Lord if it got me free stuff. Borrowing knowledge from Death, Life, and a dozen other deities, I made a wish. A dozen wishes, really. Ones that were all granted.

Boom.

Just like that, it was over. I was standing in the middle of Falconcrest City Central Park in the middle of noon, overlooking Other Gary as he was lying face down on the ground. Other Gary’s white cloak was missing and he was wearing a white t-shirt over some plaid boxers.

Some kids were playing Frisbee nearby before chasing after their dog over the closest hill. The air was clean around us and the sense of grim foreboding that had hung around my city was absent. Mostly because it wasn’t my city.

“Cloak?” I asked, checking on my friend first.

“Goodbye, Gary,” Cloak said. “I know you intended to die with me, but I think I can handle this on my own. The price is mine to pay. Try not to completely wreck the world without me.”

In my mind’s eye, I saw Lancel Warren, as a man dressed in a trench coat and fedora, enter a door of light. There was a price for using the kind of power we did, and he was the one willing to pay it.

I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.

Then my friend was gone.

“Where am I?” Other Gary said, holding his head. “What—”

I pulled out the remaining pistol Death gave me and pistol whipped him across the face. “The Greeks were very fond of the concept of the deus ex machina. That’s where the gods stepped in to make everything all right. Well, here, I had to make them get involved.”

Other Gary felt his face, which was bleeding badly. “What did you do?”

“Assuming they followed my plan, we’re in opposite orbital rotation to the earth. You killed billions of people to try and get the magical energy necessary to create a new universe. I, instead, just tried to remake your old earth. This is Earth 2.0—or maybe 1.0, since it’s the original one. All your dead friends and loved ones are here. A bunch of copies of the existing superheroes are here as well. Sadly, not Ultragod or the Nightwalker, since that’s just not how stuff works. Don’t ask me why.”

Other Gary looked at me. “You did that for me?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Thank you,” Other Gary whispered. He thought he knew what was coming.

He was right. I shot him in the head. His body collapsed on the ground, a big hole leading from one side to the other in the middle of his forehead.  He didn’t regenerate, get up, or show any sign he wasn’t truly dead this time. I still shot him six more times. You know, just to be on the safe side. Then, driven by hate, I conjured a flame so hot it burned Other Gary’s body down to its atomic particles. I continued until his remains were nothing more than a burnt shadow on the ground.

“That was for Cloak, you son of a bitch,” I hissed before tossing my remaining gun on the ground. Had it been worth it?

No, no it hadn’t.

“Congratulations, Merciless. You have successfully completed your task,” Death’s voice spoke behind me.

I turned around to see my boss wearing a pair of black blue jeans and a corset with her hair tied in a ponytail. It was an unusual look for her, but one that worked.

“Woo,” I said dryly. “Aren’t I special?”

I was tempted to fly away then, since I could already see parkgoers running away while others used their over-large cellphones to call the police. Unlike in my Falconcrest City, it seemed gunning down someone in the middle of the park wasn’t normal here. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

“Do you regret killing him?” Death asked.

“No,” I said. “I regret the cost of killing the crazy-ass bastard, though. Lancel Warren was worth all the Garys in a million universes.”

“Perhaps, but perhaps not. Your doppelgänger wasn’t crazy, though,” Death said. “Just differently sane. A factor you share.”

“Thank you for making my day worse.”

“You’re welcome.”

I paused. “Will I ever see Cloak again?”

“Lancel Warren has gone on to his afterlife. What that is doesn’t matter. It is not your place.”

I sighed. “Then I hope this was all worth it.”

“Five billion people live on this earth,” Death said. “Merciful is dead and his regime is crippled. Ultragod is avenged. President Omega is also lost in the spaces between time due to your destruction of his body and radical changing of the future. It will be a long time, if ever, before he returns.”

“Not enough to make up for Ultragod and the Nightwalker, for Mandy’s and my suffering, for all the years I’ve lost with my daughter, and for what happened to Gabrielle,” I said. “Not by a long shot.”

“True,” Death admitted. “But you should take what you can get.”

I blinked. “You know, it just occurs to me I could have used all that power I had to bring back everyone. To make all of this go away. To have a world with the Nightwalker, Ultragod, my brother, and me as the world’s most awesome supervillain, everyone I love happy as well as safe. A paradise limited only by my imagination.”

“Perhaps,” Death said. “But then, what would have been the difference between you and Other Gary?”

“I’d have succeeded in getting everything I wanted without dying?” I asked.

Death laughed. I didn’t particularly like her reaction, but I understood it. This whole thing was a comedy of the blackest kind.

“What happens now?” I asked.

Death placed her hand on my shoulder. “I restore all of the power you were supposed to have as my chosen. You will find Lancel Warren’s books of magic and The Book of Midnight waiting for you back at your restored mansion. Merciful enspelled it to regenerate anyway. If you wish, you can—”

“Claim his stuff, gotcha,” I said. “I intend to. But what about me? What exactly do I do?”

“Anything you want, Gary. That’s the benefit of being you.”

With that, she was gone.

I decided to float off with my levitation powers.

I had some things to take care of before I returned home.

Epilogue

Diabloman opened his eyes.

I blew a red party blower in his face, tickling the bottom of his nose with its extending end. I was wearing a little pointy paper hat with a Death Star on it.

Diabloman looked at me. “I love you as my hermano, but I will punch you.”

That was when Diabloman looked around to realize he was no longer inside the hospital room of the Crystal Palace or a captive of Other Gary. In fact, I’d found him being treated well on one of the Foundation for World Harmony’s hover battleships. They’d let me see him and transport him off without any difficulty, really calling into question the “intelligence” in “intelligence agency.” We were now in the medical ward of Merciless Manor, which was a neat little clinic given the circumstances.

That wasn’t the big change to my friend, however, since he was now once more restored to a healthy, physically formidable body. It was a good twenty years younger as well, bulging with muscles and tattoos that drew their energy from the Underworld rather than the Great Beasts. Diabloman was still wearing his mask despite the fact that he was otherwise naked— barring the hospital sheet up to his chest, at least.

“Gary, what have you done?” Diabloman asked.

I twiddled my thumbs. “Well, I restored Other Gary’s world before killing him. I call it Earth-Deuce. Unfortunately, I used all the magical reservoir’s juice doing so. Well, almost. It occurred to me that since I had my Death-granted powers back to snuff, I could use them to try to transfer your soul to another body. That’s a hideously difficult spell unless you’re doing it to someone who is identical to you, like Other Gary was to me.”

“Gary, did you murder the Diabloman of another world to restore me?” Diabloman didn’t sound upset, just confused.

I looked to the side. “Maybe.”

“Gary!” Diabloman said, sounding on the verge of laughing.

“He was a bad version of you!” I said. “Just running around trying to destroy the universe! Again! It was a good thing you replaced him.”

Diabloman surprised me by laughing. “You truly are irredeemable, Boss.”

“On the Census Bureau beside religion, I put Jewish Sith Lord.”

Diabloman looked up. “What happened to Other Gary?”

“He’s finished,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I owed him for saving Mandy’s soul but needed to kill him for everything else he did. So I gave him his deepest wish, and then took his life before he could enjoy it. I don’t know where Death sent him post-mortem, but I doubt it’s pleasant.”

Truth be told, I was willing to spare a moment of pity for Other Gary. He’d been insane rather than evil. OK, well, he’d been both. He was the kind of fundamentalist Knight Templar nutter who left me feeling that the side of good wasn’t nearly as superior as the so-called evildoers. For all the good he’d done, he’d been blinded by the fact that a million people wasn’t simply a statistic that could be used to justify a single tragedy. At least, that’s what I told myself. In any case, I was going to try not to think about the fact that I’d killed myself twice in one day, and just move on.

“I see,” Diabloman said. “Well, I’m glad he’s defeated.”

I patted Diabloman on the back. “Come on, let’s get going. We have a whole new world to enjoy.”

“The Society of Superheroes still controls the United States.”

I paused. “Gabrielle has already been declared to be a terrorist, along with all of her cohorts. They still believe that story that she was replaced all those years ago.”

“Or it’s more convenient to believe so. Heroes have feet of clay just like villains have feelings of love and companionship.”

“Maybe. In any case, her war will continue.”

“And ours?”

I didn’t answer and let him get dressed. He was soon wearing a red spandex wrestling suit that fit him quite well.

“Listen, about all the stuff you told me?” I said. “You know, how you didn’t want to be brought back to life? I’m not going to say I’m sorry I did it. I’ve lost enough people today.”

Not just Cloak, though his loss was the harshest. Kerri had told me she was moving out and wished me the best, but to give her two weeks’ warning before I visited in the future. I brought too much chaos and destruction to her life. Mister Inventor had decided to go with her. Apparently, having noticed Cindy’s desire to reunite with me, he decided to mack on my sister instead. Kerri seemed OK with it, too, despite her ghostly marriage. I would have to think of some terrible brotherly vengeance to wreak on them. Either that or be happy because someone had emerged from this better than they started.

“Please forget it,” Diabloman said. “I was close to death and ready to accept it. The weight of my actions against Other Gary and the rest of the universe weighed on me. I forgot that taking the easy way out was not a true redemption.”

“It worked for Vader,” I said, shrugging. “Listen, D, I’m not sure being around me is going to give you the peace you want. I’m not exactly planning on being a Boy Scout from here on out. In fact, I’m pretty sure things are going to get worse before they get better.”

“Is there a Spellbinder and Guitarist on the planet you created?” Diabloman asked.

“Uh-huh,” I said, thinking about Diabloman’s sister and brother-in-law. The ones he’d murdered. “They’re married and have two kids. I checked up on them for you.”

Diabloman took a deep breath. “Then it doesn’t matter if I murder, steal, or worse for you. I am capable of living with the guilt now, thanks to you.”

I was tempted to point out that they weren’t necessarily the ones he murdered. I had no idea how souls, magic, and super-science worked with alternate realities. What I’d done was a miracle, and I was no better equipped to explain it than anyone else. Instead, I just said, “If that’s the way you want it, sure. Your wife and child will be happy to see you.”

“Children,” Diabloman corrected. “My wife had a son while you were gone.”

I smiled and put my hand on his shoulder. “Congratulations.”

“What about your daughter?” Diabloman asked.

“Cindy and Gizmo will be staying with me. Mandy is my wife, and I’m not at all down with the whole harem comedy thing they keep suggesting. Like Jerry Seinfeld, I don’t have the furniture for that. Still, they aren’t going to turn down a mansion and a place with people they love. I also—well, love them and am going to put them first. Just . . . I’m going to put supervillainy second. I’m even financing Gizmo’s scientific side. She’s built me a starship.”

“A starship,” Diabloman repeated, focusing on the least important element.

“A working replica of the Millennium Falcon,” I said. “She didn’t actually build the whole thing, just a bunch of robots to build other robots, which built it for her. I’m frankly worried about a Skynet-esque event now.”

Diabloman nodded. “What do you think of that?”

“I think no one imagined the robot revolution would involve robot horses with four hands and built-in tools.”

“Gary, be serious.”

I closed my eyes. “I want my daughter to be safe. I would give up being a supervillain in an instant if I thought I could spend the rest of my life with her and Mandy. Unfortunately, I’m already neck deep in this crap, and it’s going to take a lot of villainy to get out of it. Still, I’m going to be part of her life even if I must pretend Cindy is raising her to defeat me. You know, so heroes don’t go after her.”

Diabloman looked at me with sympathetic eyes. It took him almost a minute to respond. “I don’t even know how to react to that.”

“Just nod your head at the crazy person.”

Diabloman nodded and placed his hand on my shoulder. “So, does this mean you chose Mandy over Cindy? That you aren’t going to try to make something together work?”

I took a deep breath. “There was never really a choice. It was always Mandy.”

Diabloman grunted a noncommittal response before removing his hand.

The two of us departed the medical center and entered the main portion of the house. What greeted us was the sounds of cheers and LMFAO’s “Party Rock Anthem.” The mansion’s main hall was full of supervillains.

The survivors of the attack were gathered here alongside hundreds of others freed from Other Gary’s secret prisons across the country. There were also groupies, political dissidents, and gangsters celebrating the fall of Other Gary with glasses of champagne or harder substances. The lights were turned low as multicolored lights and will-o-wisps provided a mesmerizing experience. It was like Club Inferno, only with genuine joy instead of the danse macabre of despair.

Sic Semper Tyrannis.

“It appears you have been busy,” Diabloman said, staring at them.

“I took the opportunity to go through Other Gary’s records with Mandy’s help. They included the locations of all his gulags and brainwashing centers. I substituted a new set of orders to start rolling back his orders to turn them into loyal servants of the New Order.”

“Some of these people are monsters,” Diabloman said.

“I didn’t roll back all of them,” I said. “Psychoslinger, for example, is still working at a fast food restaurant in Dallas. The Slaver is still dead despite attempts by the newly zombified Left-Handed Bokor to resurrect him. Most of them are just common thieves, extortionists, mercenaries, and the general scum we know and love. As for the monsters? Well, I’m keeping them on a short leash, but they have their purposes too.”

“Maybe you can redeem them too.”

I laughed.

Diabloman looked at me funny.

“Oh, you were serious.”

A cosplaying waitress dressed as Cindy walked up to me and handed us both a glass of champagne. I pulled out a poison-scanner from my cloak and ran it over our drinks before downing mine in one gulp. I then threw my glass against the wall and laughed as it broke.

“It is likely the Society of Superheroes is going to have a difficult time defeating your new forces, especially once you start recruiting more.”

“I leave that to you,” I said. “You’re my go-to man for villainy. I dub you my dragon in the TV tropes sense.”

“Excuse me?” Diabloman said.

“Long story,” I said, giving him a thumbs-up. “Enjoy yourself, D. I need to go talk to Mandy about my upcoming plans.”

I started scanning the area for Mandy and instead found Gabrielle and Amanda sipping champagne from paper cups in front of my confetti-covered couch. Both women were wearing fake costumes that made them look very different from their usual selves. Still, I’d know them anywhere.

“Would you believe me if I said you reminded me of my ex-girlfriend?” I said, walking up to Gabrielle.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “Would you believe me if I told you that you reminded me of the city’s former dictator?”

“No, no I wouldn’t,” I said.

“Hi Gary,” Amanda said. “How is Diabloman?”

“Better,” I said. “How are you holding up? Is vengeance everything you thought it would be?”

Amanda paused. “I should say it feels empty. It does, to a certain extent. It doesn’t replace Wyatt or all my lost friends. There’s a certain satisfaction, though, that comes from knowing Other Gary is never going to hurt anyone ever again.”

“That’s justice, not vengeance,” Gabrielle said.

“Is it?” Amanda sighed. “Either way, I’m not sure I shouldn’t be shutting down this party and taking all of your newfound friends into custody.”

“Don’t be a party pooper,” I said, taking a champagne glass from a guy dressed like me. “Besides, there’s plenty more days for me to be your archnemesis. I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Mister Inventor.”

“He made his choice,” Amanda said. “He chose poorly.”

“That’s the spirit,” Gabrielle said. “Gary, I want you to know I owe you more than I could ever possibly repay.”

“You mean for screwing up and getting you imprisoned for five years as the world’s prettiest reactor?”

Gabrielle shook her head. “For helping me bring down my father’s murderers. You also suffered the same sort of imprisonment.”

“Well don’t tell anyone else I did the right thing,” I said, smiling sadly. “Especially not in this crowd. So, what are you going to do now? Try to sort out the Society of Superheroes?”

“Yes,” Gabrielle said. She took a deep breath. “But I’m honestly of the mind that I should be prepared for the worst. I’m going to be recruiting other heroes to work for a return of democracy to the United States and other nations that have been taken over. It’s not just limited to the USA anymore. The United Nations has granted the Society of Superheroes its own place on the Security Council with expanded authority. I—”

“Good luck with that,” I said. “If you need anything, I’m there for you.”

“You could be part of my Shadow Army,” Gabrielle said. “You, Mandy, and Amanda could all be heroes who save the world’s freedom.”

“I have my own plans,” I said.

“OK,” Gabrielle said, surprised by the sharpness of my reply.

I gave her a kiss on the cheek and continued to look for Mandy.

“I’m having fun!” Amanda said, calling back after me.

“Check out the Puma! You and he could totally get a villain-hero thing going!” I called back to her.

Amanda rolled her eyes before drinking down her champagne.

“I know what you’re going to say, Cloak. I should have accepted that offer of redemption. I’m not going to have many . . .” I trailed off, remembering he was gone. “Goddammit.”

I’d lost my father five years ago, right before the whole business with President Omega.

Now I’d lost my second father.

I took a deep breath. “I don’t know if you can hear me, Lancel, but I hope you’re happy wherever you are. I was never a very good student, and you were kind of a shit teacher. However, you were someone who enriched my life and . . . I’m going to miss you. Oh, and if Kerri figures out how to summon your ghost, I’m totally rebinding you even if you’re happy in Heaven. Sorry.”

Cloak didn’t answer.

I suppressed my tears and continued to look for Mandy. I found her in one of the bedrooms, talking with Selena the Black Witch. The Red Schoolgirl was blackout drunk on the bed, snoring loudly next to three empty bottles of wine from the cellar. Mandy and Selena were having a comfortable chat, apparently talking about politics and new angry girl bands. Their version of flirting with the ex, I suppose.

“Hey you two,” I said. “What am I missing?”

“Selena is trying to persuade me to join the Shadow Army,” Mandy said. “I said no.”

“Gabrielle tried the same for me,” I said. “I think we can agree that saving the world is not our problem. We’ve done more than enough.”

“Really?” Selena said. “Because I think you’d want allies to deal with any future threats.”

“I can deal with whatever comes our way,” I said. “Mandy can too.”

“I wouldn’t overestimate yourself, Gary,” Selena said. “On a scale of one to ten in terms of supervillain power, you’re solidly a five. You got lucky with Zul-Barbas and President Omega. Other Gary you were uniquely qualified to deal with, but even then, he handed you your ass more times than you did. It’s just he wasn’t playing for keeps. There are plenty of other supervillains who will kill you without hesitation. Most superheroes will join them if they ever find out a version of you killed Ultragod.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, deciding not to mention that Death had restored my powers and I was more like a seven or eight now. “I’m tenth level while the others are Epic, I get it. Wait, does D&D even use Epic Levels anymore? I stopped paying attention after Third Edition.”

Selena rolled her eyes. “Do you even know how many dangers are still out there?”

“I’d wager less than there were before Other Gary brainwashed or murdered them all,” I said. “I’m more concerned about the heroes.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Selena said, her gaze burrowing into me. “Sovi-Ape was the only archvillain captured and reformed by Merciful’s agents. The rest of them, monsters like Tom Terror and the Council of Dark Lords, are all still out there. They’ve just been lying low. The Thran and Tsavong Empires are also due for another invasion attempt, except our biggest guns are either dead or retired. That’s not even counting Entropicus and his Armies of Darkness. We don’t have the Nightwalker or Ultragod to watch us anymore.”

“I think Ultragoddess and Nightwoman,” I corrected myself on Amanda’s codename, “will handle things just fine.”

Selena frowned. “I hope you’re right.”

Mandy’s reticence surprised me but shouldn’t have. She’d made it clear we were a double act. I was just surprised she hadn’t asked me; I would have said yes then. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to borrow my wife.”

“As you wish,” Selena said, looking unhappy.

Mandy followed me to our bedroom, which was, thankfully, absent of any supervillains. Mostly because I’d warded the place to teleport any interlopers to Istanbul. My magic was significantly stronger in the mansion than elsewhere.

“What now?” Mandy asked.

“My evil plan.” I walked over to a library bookshelf in the room and pulled out the copy of Machiavelli’s The Prince. The bookshelf opened to a long staircase leading down to the Merciless Dungeon beneath the mansion. I’d installed it during my time as a successful supervillain, only to add some bits and pieces with my brief omnipotence. “We managed to empty a large amount of Other Gary’s liquid assets into my accounts. Thank you for that, by the way. I don’t know how you pulled that off.”

“I guessed Other Gary’s passwords would be like yours. Which meant they were variants on my name, Cindy’s name, Gabrielle’s name, the word password, your niece’s birthday, your brother’s birthday, and swordfish. Oh, and the one for his infonet master-control was ADMIN.”

I paused. “I need to change all my passwords, don’t I?”

“Yes,” Mandy said. “Except I already changed them.”

I smirked. “Well, I did some digging before I resurrected Diabloman. Plenty of people let me access stuff they shouldn’t have when I put on a white hooded robe instead of my usual one. I’ve got a list of all of Gary’s secret treasure troves and the Society’s other underground prisons. Places where he’s stored stolen artifacts, technology, and wealth that couldn’t be or wasn’t returned to its original owners. It’s a veritable Wayland of goods.”

“You mean Weyland-Yutani from the Alien movies or the Emperor’s storehouse from the Thrawn Trilogy?”

“The latter,” I said, loving how simultaneously geeky and cool my wife could be. “I should have just said Nazi gold. Whatever the case, we can build ourselves an army from the grateful people within as well as arm ourselves with weapons more powerful than any force on Earth. There were magical books, wands, and woozits alongside technology that would make President Omega blush.”

“To what end?” Mandy said.

Walking down the steps into the Merciless Dungeon, I saw a massive supervillain’s lair with computers, weapons, my time machine, and the Merciless Falcon. A large bronze statue of me holding a globe in each hand overlooked the place. There was also the world’s largest twenty-sided die, which was the pride of my collection of stolen knickknacks like the Staff of Ra and my pickled Hitler heads. My doppelgänger had stored all my loot here, as if in homage to his conquest of me. There was even the hypno-coin he’d used to defeat me at President Omega’s bunker. I bet he wished he’d taken that with him to the reservoir.

“To give me enough oomph to take advantage of the power vacuum in Merciful’s organization. The majority of his minions were brainwashed, so I can free the ones likely to ally with me and leave the ones who were assholes alone. I figure I can get most, maybe seventy percent, of his stuff as compensation for all the trouble he’s caused me. That will be the end of Phase Two in my not entirely completed master plan,” I said, sitting down in front of a giant computer screen and keyboard. “It’s time we got serious about taking over the world. We’ve got two to conquer now. If you’re in?”

Mandy looked up at the screen as I brought up images of the two planet Earths in orbit of the Sun. In her eyes, I saw the look of a woman who’d seen just what could happen to an earth that wasn’t adequately protected by superheroes. Mandy had borne witness to the destruction of everyone she’d loved twice and been tortured alongside me in Undertown. Despite my best efforts, she’d never be the optimistic idealistic person she was before. I regretted that, but I was also happy? to have someone as twisted as me by my side. We could carry each other’s pain right to the White House and beyond.

“I’m in.”

I regretted I wouldn’t be able to be the hero Cloak wanted me to be. The heroes weren’t playing by the rules anymore, though, so I had to make some new ones. I was going to be the villain the world needed, not the one it wanted.

I hoped Lancel could forgive me that.

An Excerpt from Agent G: Infiltrator by C. T. Phipps – On Sale Now

Chapter One

I was sitting in the driver’s seat of a 2010 Mercedes Benz S-Klasse, staring at a small handheld computer screen currently tapped into the security feed of the hotel whose parking lot I was located in. It was a warm summer night in Chicago, rare for this city, and I was feeling the heat in my pressed black suit. I was dressed in a chauffer’s outfit and waiting for a man to come out so I could kill him.

The target, Marshall Redmond, was fifty-two, Caucasian, a closeted bisexual, possessed a net worth of sixty-two million dollars, and was currently attending a fundraiser for the Mayor of Chicago. The fat blond man was sitting at the table in the front of the ballroom with his deeply unhappy-looking spouse sitting beside him. The Society hadn’t told me why someone was paying to have him killed.

Despite the fact we weren’t supposed to pry into our subject’s affairs, it was a game for Numbers to try and deduce the reason for why someone wanted someone else to die. Usually, it was depressingly simple: a subject was having an affair and their spouse was a client. They were witnesses to a crime which could bring an end to a multimillionaire’s business, they were a political activist working for some groups’ rights, they were a political activist working against another groups’ (many times the same group), or they had made the mistake of betraying their employer in some way.

Marshall Redmond was a terrorist. Honestly, that had caught me off guard. People weren’t complex. Nine times out of ten, they were exactly what they appeared to be. In Redmond’s case, I would have thought embezzlement or stock fraud or donating to the wrong politician was the reason a client wanted him dead. Terrorism was an entirely different sort of crime than the kind of one people like Redmond committed. He was more the white-collar Ponzi scheme sort of fellow. Those kinds of criminals could destroy equal amounts of lives but the terrorists tended to have worse publicity.

It made me curious.

Your curiosity will get you killed, my mentor would always say. R had been an awful human being, even by my standards, but he’d known his stuff. The fact he’d managed to live to Reassignment proved that. Either way, he wasn’t here now and that meant I could handle the matter as I wanted.

Waiting twenty-minutes for them to arrive, I saw Redmond and his wife part ways and move to their separate cars. Redmond and his bodyguard moved toward this car, the former looking distressed with the latter. Redmond’s bodyguard was a tall, thirty-two, muscular black man named Charles Dulcimer.

Dulcimer was an ex-Navy Seal who had done contracts for Universiti and was currently working for the world’s largest security corporation. He was looking violently ill and seconds later, threw up on Redmond’s shoes.

“Tsk-tsk-tsk,” I said, shaking my head, adjusting the side view mirror. “You should always watch what you eat, Charles. You never know what someone might have slipped into it.”

Wow, I was so bored I was talking to myself.

Redmond backed away in disgust, yelled some obscenities at the man, and walked over to the car before climbing into the backseat. According to the profile, Redmond had never been comfortable with Dulcimer as his bodyguard. At the risk of pulling the race card, I suspected the ex-mercenary’s looks had a large part to play in it.

I was biracial myself, one of the few clues I possessed to my identity pre-memory wipe, but light-skinned enough to pass as a white man. Really, my appearance was perfect for putting people like Redmond at ease. I was mid-thirties, five-foot-ten, one-hundred-and-sixty-five pounds, possessed short black hair, and had striking crystal blue eyes. All of these things I could disguise with the right wigs, contacts, and prosthetics but tonight I was going as something close to the ‘real’ me.

“Take me home, David,” Redmond said, looking at his shoes. “God almighty, those people. Do we have a napkin or something in here?”

I reached into the glove compartment and removed some McDonald’s napkins I’d collected just in case this sort of situation happened. Putting on a stereotypical Southern drawl, I said, “Here, sir. I hope these help.”

Redmond took them before shooting me a dirty look. “Have you been eating in my car?”

I continued speaking like the expected hick. “No, sir, I ate outside, washed my hands, and came back in. I put the napkins in because you can never have too many napkins.”

“Good,” Redmond said, patting his interior lovingly. “Do you know that fucker actually wants to rezone the city to attract more foreign investment?”

That fucker, I assumed to be the mayoral candidate. “Really?”

“Ugh. I’d tell him to go to hell but I’m getting first dibs on several of those projects.”

I’d been working for Redmond for the better part of a week, having arranged for his previous driver to take a preferred assignment with an ex-fashion model known for banging her chauffeurs. I’d then taken over his job after making sure my name was at the top of the list via my assistant’s computer hacking. Breaking into the limousine service Redmond used wasn’t exactly a challenge for a woman who had cracked the Society’s servers, but Marissa was itching for work as much as I was.

I proceeded to pull out the car onto the busy Chicago streets. The most difficult part of the mission was over and I could dispose of Redmond at any time. However, as I mentioned before, I was a curious man by nature.  “Do you ever give any thought to the matter of identity?”

Redmond reached into his jacket and pulled out a bottle of prescription pain killers before popping three into his mouth. “What the fuck are you going on about?”

It was over now. Redmond just didn’t know it. I’d managed to replace the contents of his bottle with a much-much stronger dosage plus several other recreational pharmaceuticals which would kill even a healthy man Redmond’s age. That was just the backup plan, really, to make sure he didn’t get away. Not that I was afraid he would but I wasn’t a Letter because I took chances. I also had something more…elaborate planned for his demise.

“Memory. It’s the basis of our identities but so much of it is malleable. We recast events how we want them to be and how our present-day opinions influence them. For example, a person who commits a terrible crime might think of himself as completely justified in the events and recall things which drove him to it—even if they never happened. It’s why eye-witness testimony is so unreliable because a lot of times, what people recall happening didn’t happen at all.”

Redmond started coughing, unable to respond.

“For me, I can’t help but think it raises some interesting philosophical questions. Do we ever really know a person? Are all the various wars and conflicts of history because we interpret events solely to our own perspective? If you are a person without a memory, do you have an identity at all or are you simply a hollow shell? I prefer to believe we’re like cups, emptied and waiting to be filled anew but retaining some semblance of our past selves.”

“You...” I heard a gasping, labored voice speak behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I watched Redmond clutching his chest, sweating like a pig and reaching for his cellphone. He was desperately trying to enter the number for 911.

I lifted up a small black box. “This is a cellphone jammer. You can buy them at almost any electronics store. It’s hilarious.”

Redmond dropped his cellphone on the ground. “Why? Is it...is it Mahad?”

Mahad al-Malik was a Saudi Arabian real-estate developer who was suspected of having ties to ISIL but was so low on the totem pole he was allowed to conduct business in the United States. I couldn’t make up this shit if I tried.

“Do I look like the kind of guy who works with terrorists?” I said, crossing my arms. “Then again, you don’t exactly look like that sort of fellow yourself. By the way, my name isn’t David, it’s G. I know, that’s a letter not a name but it’s as close as I’ve got. No Men in Black jokes, please.”

“I can pay—”

I rolled my eyes. “I hate when targets say that, I really do. First of all, if I spared your life then you’re not going to pay me because you’d be going to call the police or the FBI. Next, if you paid me beforehand, there’d be nothing to stop me from killing you afterward. Use your head.”

Redmond looked at me with pure hatred in his eyes. “You’re...insane.”

“Possibly,” I admitted, shaking my head. “The people who employ me put me through a fairly punishing regime of mental conditioning and drug-therapies. Things designed to remove those qualities which don’t find humor in your situation, for example.”

Redmond started to cry. It was kind of sad, really. I usually felt better about these things when my target was dirty as fuck. Then again Redmond was a racist white-collar criminal terrorist, which was a trifecta of things I loathed.

“I would like to know why, actually. That might change a few things.” It wouldn’t but he didn’t know that.

“The money,” Redmond said, raising his hand into the air. “ISIL robbed the banks of Mosul of...four hundred million dollars...they…needed someone to launder it.”

I stared at him, frowning. “Money? Really?”

So pedestrian a motive.

“I had no choice.” Redmond wheezed. “They would have killed me and my family if I’d refused.”

“I’m sure they would have, once you took their money.” I shook my head and turned on the lights again before driving toward Chicago’s industrial district. It wouldn’t be long, now, until Redmond’s heart gave out. I’d have to work quickly if I wanted to make sure I got this whole thing resolved the way I wanted it to. A good hit was like a work of art. If it was done properly, it was an amazing sight to behold and could be talked about for hours. It had to be done just perfect, though, or the whole thing was ruined.

Redmond proceeded to surprise me again. “You...you work for the Society.”

I looked into the rearview mirror. “Really? A twit like you knows about the Society?”

Redmond gave a bitter gallows’ laugh. “You fucking bastard, they’re the people who arranged the meeting between Mahad and I.”

“As bad as I think my employers are, I don’t think they finance terrorism.”

Terrorists, by and large, couldn’t afford us.

“They’re going to steal...the money.”

“Good for them.”

“I can arrange for the... CIA... to help you. To protect you. They can... get you your memories back.”

Redmond knew way too much to be what he appeared. Worse, he was dangling the one carrot in front of my face which might entice me.

The chance to know who I was.

Pulling onto a set of train tracks just moments before the barriers moved down both in front and behind me, I heard the sound of the warning bells as the flagger began flashing. I could see the train coming down from my left. I turned off the headlights to make sure the car wasn’t visible to the engineer. I had to make a choice now.

Eh, who was I kidding? There was no choice. “The CIA is one of the Society’s biggest clients.”

I stepped out of the car, went to the back of the trunk, pulled out a drugged and confused looking David Johnson a.k.a Josh Harden. He was the man whose identity I’d stolen. An ex-convict and registered sex offender who was operating under a false identity while he sold pills to rich clients. We had a vague resemblance. Especially when you put as much effort into not being noticed as I did.

Putting him in the driver’s seat and adjusting his hat to be perfect, I shut the door and walked forward as the 11:30 train barreled down the tracks.  I was fifty-feet-away before I heard the screeching, smashing, and crushing noise which was the death rattle of Redmond and his driver.

Looking back, I confirmed both kills before walking away from the crime scene and turning my chauffer’s attire inside out. The black suit top became a Chicago Cubs sports jacket and the hat a ball cap. The pants would become blue jeans but I would wait until I was somewhere more private to change those. I also needed to contact the Home Office in order to confirm my kill.

Cramming my tie into my pocket, I pulled out my cellphone before removing a thin metal wire from its side with a needle at the end. I jabbed the needle into the right side of my temple, linking it up to the IED implant they’d removed part of my brain to install. Cybernetics came with being a Letter. The Society had access to a lot of technology well above what regular humanity did and, instead of using it to help people, used it to make better killers. Says something about the world, doesn’t it?

A holographic image of an older, white-haired woman in a white business suit appeared in front of my vision. It was Persephone, the Society’s Director. It was unusual for her to be the one answering this sort of call. Usually, Marissa would be the one to check on my progress and relay it to my superiors.

“Hello, G, is the mission completed?”

“No, I just love stabbing myself in the head with an information jack.”

“You should learn to watch your mouth. If you weren’t my favorite, I’d have it sewn shut.”

“I bet you say that all the Letters.”

“Yes, but you should at least have the courtesy to not point that out.”

“Yes, Mom.”

I could feel Persephone’s irritation. I had to wonder what sort of person I was to continually challenge my superiors like that. I didn’t want to. I wanted to just serve out my ten years and retire with the ungodly amount of money I’d made during my contract. Preferably some place with large amounts of sunshine and rum. Yet, I just had to push.

It was unsettling.

“Now, I repeat, is the job done? No complications?”

“None. Tomorrow the headline will read a suicidal chauffer decided to kill himself and his boss after deciding he couldn’t live with his crimes. Add in the business with the pills in Redmond’s stomach and his businesses will be radioactive for the next few months. Just like the client wanted.”

Technically, they’d just said Redmond should die in ‘infamy’ but I’d interpreted that to mean something like this.

“We’ll be sending in financial cleaners to his office tomorrow for the next part of the contract. Did he mention anything of importance before you completed your mission?”

“No, ma’am,” I lied, thinking about the whole ISIL and CIA business Redmond had mentioned. Was it true? Maybe. It didn’t matter now. He was in a hundred pieces and any connection to the Society in his files would be erased tomorrow. It wasn’t my problem, though. I needed to stay loyal. I’d served five years of my ten years of service. I would make it to Reassignment.

“Good. Your payment is awaiting pickup with a bonus for prompt delivery. I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to enjoy spending it on your usual orgy of alcohol, hookers, and cocaine, though.”

“I don’t use cocaine.” I’d also rapidly cut down on my alcohol and hooker intake since beginning my relationship with Marissa. I wasn’t about to tell Persephone that, though, since I didn’t know how that would affect our working relationship. They might reassign her, or worse, and I didn’t want to imagine what life would be like without her. Marissa was one of the few things which made me feel human.

“I need you to come in to the Home Office as soon as possible. This is a time-sensitive issue,” Persephone said, shaking me out of my thoughts. “High priority.”

“Understood.”

“Say hello to the wife while you’re in town. I’m sure she misses you.”

“Like a bullet in the head.”

“Be prompt. Those can be arranged.”

Persephone’s image vanished from view and I removed my information jack. The decryption built into my head meant no one, short of the supercomputers at the NSA, could decrypt our conversations. Theoretically. I couldn’t help but think the Society’s overreliance on technology was a weakness rather than strength.

“Fuck, I need to get cleaned up,” I muttered, disappearing behind some empty rail cars as police sirens buzzed in the distance.

I was gone before they arrived.

Agent G: Infiltrator

Chapter Two

I returned to the hotel room I’d arranged for the evening to collect my things and take a quick shower before leaving. The Chicago Merlot was a five-star accommodation with bathrobes, mints, high-speed internet access, and a luxurious silk-sheet bed. Say what you will about the Society; it paid magnificently.

Right now, I wanted to lie down on the bed and sleep for a year. There was something about killing people that always made me tired. I was fine during the act, but as soon as it was done, the weight of it all hit me. Not so much guilt—they’d conditioned that out of me—but the awareness of its absence.  Having finished my shower and standing in front of my hotel room’s dresser mirror with a white towel wrapped around my waist, I couldn’t help but look at myself and try to put a name to the person staring back at me.

I had clues, small ones, that told me a bit about who I’d been: I’d broken my leg twice as a child, and had two fillings, and there were signs I’d been asthmatic before growing out of it. I spoke eight languages, only two of which I’d learned with the Society, and my natural accent was Midwestern American. I’d also been shot twice in the chest, which made me think I may have been in the military.

Or a criminal.

There were other clues about who I once was, things I didn’t consciously choose but were a part of my personality nevertheless: the snarkiness to my superiors, the fact that I believed in God despite disobeying his most important commandments on a regular basis, and my preference for dark-haired women over blondes. Oh, and I absolutely despised shellfish.

Then there were the dreams. They didn’t happen often, but when they did, they were terrifying in their vividness. They were the memories of someone who wasn’t an emotional cripple and felt everything in vibrant colors to my current dull greys.

A woman in a yellow flowered dress. Laughing. A child, a girl, six years old, playing in a backyard.

Computer screens, lots of computer screens. The Karma Corporation logo.

Gunfire in a desert.

Kissing a dark-haired, brown-skinned woman, passionately, in the shower.

A man with a shaved head in a business suit, throwing me around the middle of my study.

Blood. Screams. Emptiness.

The dreams were a natural part of the conditioning process that removed Letters’ memories. Every one of us suffered them, and the worst part was we didn’t know if they were clues to our past or not.  One of us, H, had been obsessed with a man he believed to have been his brother, only to commit suicide when he found out that he’d been thinking of an eighties movie star the entire time. The people in my dreams were real, though. They had to be.

“Someday I’m going to find out who the fuck you are,” I said to my reflection. “I’ve got people out there who loved me.”

But would they love who I’d become? That was a question with no answer.

Not yet, anyway.

Seconds later, I heard a knocking at my door. I reached over for the gun on my dresser. I kept one behind the toilet, on the dresser, and underneath my bedroom pillow in case of an ambush. I made sure I was never outside of reaching distance of a weapon.

Clambering around, I let my towel fall to the ground and walked to the side of the door. Normally, the kind of people I dealt with didn’t knock, but they might also have been checking to see if anyone was inside.

Risking a look through the peephole, I saw a small olive-skinned Hispanic woman in her late twenties. She had midnight-black hair tied up in a ponytail, several piercings, and a jean jacket over a black halter top. The woman was wearing a black leather miniskirt over black pantyhose. A silver laptop bag with a vampire Hello Kitty design sewn into it was over her right shoulder.

“Hey, G-man, let me in.”

“Marissa.” I unlocked the door and undid the chain to let her in. I put my gun down on the side of the kitchenette table by the door. “You know, the goth look died out in the nineties.”

“How would you know?” Marissa said, walking in. “You don’t remember anything beyond the last five years.”

“Low blow.”

Marissa’s eyes widened as she took stock of my nakedness. “Uh, could you—”

I closed the door behind her before locking it up. “Put on my clothes?”

Marissa looked me up and down before smiling. “I didn’t say that.”

Marissa Sanchez was my assistant as well as my lover. Every Letter had a researcher personally assigned to help them through missions as well as serve as a source of logistical support.

Marissa had been a hacker who’d had the misfortune of combing through the Society’s files. Instead of killing her, they’d put her through a milder version of my conditioning, which had reduced her capacity for empathy as well as instilled a loyalty to the Society’s goals. Assistants tended to have a shorter life than Letters despite their lack of field work. They were considered expendable, and the slightest screw-up was grounds for termination. I wasn’t going to let that happen to her.

I gave her a passionate kiss on the lips. “Perhaps we can find a way to take advantage of my appearance.”

Marissa grinned alluringly. “What would your wife say?”

I frowned at her reference to my fake marriage. If I had a wife, it was the woman in my dreams, not the person they’d married me to at the Society. “Probably ask if she could join in or ignore us completely. S is like that.”

S and I had been assigned to live false identities as husband and wife in suburban Boston. Neither of us spent much time in our house and the marriage was mostly in name only. I say mostly because while we’d only slept together a few times, the very act of cohabitating as Letters was more intimacy than the vast majority of our kind ever achieved. If not for the fact that I had much stronger feelings for Marissa and wanted, someday, to find out if I had a family waiting for me, I might have pursued something with S.

Marissa pulled away at my statement. “You’re such a romantic.”

“You’re the one who brought her up.” I picked up the bathrobe I’d set out earlier on the bed and put it on. It was white, with the hotel’s name printed on the front lapel. “I’m surprised you’re not already on your way to Boston. Persephone indicated the issue was urgent.”

“It is. Part of the reason why I wanted to show up was to share what I’ve already found out before you left.”

“Oh?” I said, going to the kitchenette to make some coffee. I always brought my own bag of it during missions. It was illegally imported straight from Venezuela, grown on a plantation I’d once killed a drug lord on.

“It has to do with the Carnevale.”

I paused while lifting a scoop of ground coffee mix. “I see.”

The Carnevale was one of the few rivals the International Refugee Society had in the world of high stakes international assassination-for-hire. After World War 2, Italy’s Operation: Gladio had gathered a bunch of mafioso, killers, fascists, and psychopaths and trained them in military techniques and espionage. After the fall of the Soviet Union, the Carnevale went global and became infamous for taking just about any job they were paid for—up to and including terrorism-for-hire.

Just for the “right” side.

“Maybe the Society is going to be dispatched to take those bastards down,” Marissa said, walking over to the bed and plopping herself down.

“If so, it’s because someone hired us to do it.”

“Yeah, the governments of the world.”

I gave her a “Really, do you want to have this discussion?” look before starting a fresh pot. “What else do you know?”

“Y and Z are dead.”

I paused, letting that sink in. Despite how cool and detached I’d become over the past five and a half years, I was still a human being. The drugs and conditioning made it possible for me to kill without trauma, or at least to the point of crippling trauma, but they didn’t prevent me from making associations.

Friendships.

Y had been a friend of mine, as much as you could be with a man who had no more past than you. He had been a big burly black man with nine years of service to his name, as well as more compassion than any member of our little club had any right to possess.

Z? Z had been a psychopath. But a damned entertaining one. Z had never wanted anything other than to continue serving the Society until she was dead and buried, which I suppose was a dream she’d managed to realize.

Both had been good. Both had been careful.

“Well, that’s not good,” I said, not really having words anymore for the kind of grief I wanted to display but could no longer.

“Understatement of the year.”

“Yes.”

If the Carnevale was targeting our agents, then things were about to get nasty. They didn’t have access to our level of technology, but its members were strange—and this is coming from a man who once fought a cyborg who took fourteen shots to the chest and two to the face. The Carnevale’s agents were theatrical, which is my term for “bug-fuck crazy” with some near-magical ability to get the job done despite it. Also, just because they didn’t have our level of technology didn’t mean they didn’t have some nifty toys.

“There’s something more,” Marissa said.

“Oh, this just gets better and better.”

“Delphi has summoned all of the Letters back to the Home Office.”

I cursed. “That just makes it so much worse.”

Strange Persephone hadn’t mentioned it. Then again, I sometimes wondered if she wouldn’t be happy for me to die in the field. More likely, though, this was a very recent development.

“Worse than war with the Carnevale?” Marissa asked.

“Delphi is a machine intelligence who monitors the entirety of the planet twenty-four seven. Snowden didn’t know the half of it when he talked about the NSA monitoring us. What scares her should scare us all. Eventually, she’s going to get sick of our crap and go Skynet.”

Marissa grimaced. “Maybe she’s a good computer.”

I arched my brow. “She’s whatever she was programmed to be and the people who programmed her are empty of anything resembling humanity.”

Like me.

“We’re the good guys, G.”

“Tell that to Martha Stephens or Thomas Jones.”  They’d both been innocents. The first two but far from the last. People I’d murdered because I wanted to live and regain who I was more than I valued their lives. For a man conditioned not to feel guilt, I still regularly saw them in my dreams. Almost as often as my wife and child, or the people I thought were my wife and child. Damn, this was a deep rabbit hole.

Marissa wasn’t persuaded, though. “The International Refugee Society has to do favors for its sponsors. It’s not a good thing, but we save many more lives than we take by being there to do the dirty work the other agencies can’t or won’t.”

I’d have argued with her, but it wasn’t her fault. It was just part of the conditioning. Marissa had gone from an anarchist out to put the screws to the Man to someone who believed an illegal organization of professional killers was desperately needed for world peace. Sometimes I wondered if her attraction to me was part of her brainwashing too, but I didn’t want to think about that. If I started thinking everyone’s motivations and thoughts were controllable, there was no telling where that rabbit hole would lead.

“Is that all?” I said, suddenly feeling less like spending time with my lover.

Marissa looked down. “No, there’s one more thing.”

I poured her a cup of freshly brewed coffee, put two creams in it, and brought it to her. The spacious hotel suite suddenly felt smaller, and I began to feel uncomfortably hot under the thick robe. “What is it?”

Marissa looked nervous. She took the cup and slowly sipped from it, peering up at me. “I’ve found some more . . . stuff about that thing you wanted me to look into.”

That thing. The words made my heart skip a beat. “I see.”

“You realize if you find out who you were, they’re going to kill you.” Marissa gave me a wholly unnecessary warning about the dangers.

“Only if they find out.”

Marissa put her cup on the table beside the bed and pulled out a Society cellphone with an information jack. “You’re lucky I think you’re more important than the rules.”

I wasn’t about to tell her that it was because I’d seduced her with the intent of using her to find more information about my past. I’d done so with full knowledge I was putting her life at risk. They could, after all, just wipe my brain of the knowledge again. Marissa wouldn’t be so lucky. What I hadn’t expected was that my starvation for human affection would turn my manipulations into something real. At least, something I liked to think was real.

“Thank you,” I said, removing the information jack and plugging it into my head. The phone had been wiped of all connection to the Society’s network, leaving it an untraceable means of communication.

“It’s not much,” Marissa said, sighing. “I’m restricted by having to use disposable computers and materials I can keep from everyone else in the Society.”

“You hacked Delphi. You’re the Aztec Goddess of Computers.”

“My name would be Marissaleetlolrofl.”

I smirked.

What popped up before my eyes was a collection of tax records related to Karma Corporation. A holographic white K in the middle of a green square hung above a list of names, dates, locations, and numbers. One of those names was highlighted: Marcus Thomas Gordon. An image appeared of a middle-aged man, slightly on the pudgy side, but looking like he might have once been a great deal more intimidating. He had a kindly face which I wish I could have said evoked an emotional response. Still, there were similarities in our features that made me think that, yes, this could be my father.

“Were you able to find anything more about this man?” I asked.

“No,” Marissa said. “It’s like he’s a ghost. All those files were deleted. They were just less backed up in a subdirectory of a subdirectory of a data-cloud.”

Another flaw of modern technology. “I’m sure we could find out more on the ground. Unfortunately, that’s not possible.”

“No.”

I sucked in my breath and removed the jack from my head. “This is more than I’ve had in five years. It gives me hope. Thank you.”

“Do you want me to continue probing?”

“Do not unnecessarily endanger yourself.” I poured myself a cup of coffee, black, and drank it down quickly.

“It’s a bit late for that.”

“You’re right.” I walked back and sat down beside her before putting my hand to the side of her head. I whispered into her ear. “Keep working on it.” I wouldn’t allow Marissa to come to harm, but I couldn’t let her stop, either. This was too important.

Marissa responded by giving me another kiss and pulling me down onto the bed.

An Excerpt from Villains Rule by M. K. Gibson - On Sale Now

Prologue

(Look, I know prologues can be boring. But they are there for a reason. So just read it. And if it helps, imagine it being read in a fancy accent.)

The warrior rode home.

What was left of the Elder River village still smoldered. Almost a year to the day, smoke rose from the magically immolated land the warrior called home.

Home.

The warrior had been gone so long, the word “home” had nearly lost meaning. Through the trials he endured and the dangers he faced, the warrior had stayed focused.

When his village and his family were slaughtered and burned by the half-fire giant General Anders, the war leader for the hordes of the Baron Grimskull, he was lost. He was destroyed inside. But the warrior had been taken in by his mentor, Zachariah Greywalker. It was in the home of the elves of the Whispering Woods where the warrior was taught to fight, taught to use his mind, and taught to live again. It was there where the warrior fell in love with the elf maiden Lady Alianna.

The warrior promised his mentor and his beloved he would find the Baron Grimskull’s weakness and bring peace to the land. And to the horizon, he set off.

Death the warrior courted, and death he delivered upon the enemies who barred his way. The Nameless Sea could not claim him. The Waste of Sand and Tears could not contain him. The bleak rock of the Grey Spire Mountains could not deter him.

And finally, deep beneath the Peak of Inverness, the Bray Beast of D’hoom Dungeon fell to him. It was there in D’hoom Dungeon the warrior found the source of Grimskull’s power: Amulet of the Ember Soul. Armed with the amulet, the warrior could strip the baron of his power. With this, he could bring an end to Grimskull’s tyranny. With this he could usher in a new age of peace.

The remnants of the Elder River village were in view. The sun set on the horizon. Blue and purple wove a tapestry of twilight across the valley sky. The warrior wanted nothing more than to return to the woods and to his lady love. But first, he had a promise to keep. A promise to himself.

The warrior rode through the remnants of the village gates, charred from the attack. He slipped off his horse and closed his eyes and breathed in deeply the scent of his home. He felt right, true, and just.

“Mother, Father, my friends . . . your deaths will be avenged. I wish I had been stronger then. I wish I could have saved you. But with this amulet, I will destroy Grimskull. And I will rebuild here. Your sacrifice will be the foundation of a stronger tomorrow. On this, I swear!”

The warrior had left this place a fearful boy. Now, the boy was a man, and the man would defeat any enemy that stood before him.

“By the gods above and below, I dare any to stand between me and my sacred vow,” the warrior growled.

From the shadows behind the warrior stepped a rather large man dressed in all black tactical gear with night-vision goggles. The man in black cracked the warrior over the head with a rubberized metal baton, dropping him into the dirt.

Nudging the warrior on the ground with the steel toe of his combat boot, the man in black judged the warrior unconscious. The man in black took the pouch holding the Amulet of the Ember Soul from the warrior’s belt. Opening the bag to inspect that the Amulet of the Ember Soul was intact, the man in black nodded with satisfaction.

The man in black leaped up on the warrior’s horse and steered the horse away, leaving the village. With a backwards glance at the fallen warrior, the man in black muttered in dismissive, eye-rolling disgust:

“Heroes are so fucking stupid.”

Prologue pt. 2 - Electric Boogaloo

In a pocket dimension, between the real world and the fantasy realms, and slightly to the right of the world where your left socks go missing, existed the executive office of The Blackwell Corporation, Evil Consulting Agency. The ultra-modern building sat atop a lone barren mountain, seemingly floating in a void.

The waiting area inside the lobby of Blackwell Inc. contrasted the building’s exterior. The retro 1970s décor was lit by harsh flickering fluorescent lighting. The rectangular off-white ceiling tiles were intermittently stained the color of weak tea. The area resembled the airport lounge of days gone by, complete with rows of piss-yellow, hard plastic chairs attached to scratched chrome frames with nary an armrest to be found.

Muzak versions of fantasy realms madrigals droned painfully from the tinny, crackling speakers. The waiting room walls were floor-to-ceiling glass windows that looked off into the nothingness of the pocket dimension. The view gave the lobby a perpetual nighttime look and radiated cold.

But mostly, the lobby stank. It stank of many things: stale cigarette butts in full ashtrays, burnt coffee in the antique percolator, and the stale popcorn of a 1980s K-Mart.

The waiting room also stank from the presence of the eternal rotting corpse of the Dread Zombie Lich Lord Morakesh and his nine mummy high priests.

Just ask Sophia.

Sophia Rose DeVrille, Blackwell Corporation’s one and only receptionist, sat in her chair behind a fuck-all awesomely ornate cherry and mahogany desk. She typed away at her keyboard while sitting in her ridiculously expensive chair. Sophia felt that her lower lumbar was not only being supported, it was practically being made love to.

Sophia wasn’t really typing any kind of letter or email. She was just choosing to ignore the increasingly impatient Lord Morakesh, despite the stink. The Dread Lord’s nine high priests sat in the lobby reading out-of-date magazines like Better Homes & Gardens, various parenting magazines, and Highlights. Lord Morakesh stood in front of Sophia’s desk with his arms crossed, tapping his undead foot impatiently. Little necrotic bits of the Dread Lord were falling into piles despite his bandages and ceremonial armor.

It was quite disgusting.

Lord Morakesh continued standing in angry silence while the clock on the wall ticked.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

“Excuse me, but I have an appointment!” Lord Morakesh belted out in exasperation.

“No. You don’t,” Sophia mumbled without looking up, continuing her fake typing.

“Well, no. But do you know who I am?”

“Yes.”

“Yes? And?”

“And I do not care, sir.”

“I am the Dread Lord Morakesh!”

“And that,” Sophia gestured absently, “is the Infamous Alpha Werewolf, Grey Fang, of the Dessemark Bloodpack.”

Grey Fang inclined his head slightly in a sign of acknowledgment, shifted his Boy’s Life magazine, crossed his legs, and began to lick-clean his crotch. Thoroughly.

“Over there,” Sophia continued, “is The Torment. Non-Corporeal Manifestation of Abstract Evil. Master of the Never Realm’s Sphere of Pain and Suffering.”

The Torment floated above his chair in a seething cloud of smoke, fire, and pain. There was the faintest outline of a man within the billowing despair. While not having an apparent face or mouth, The Torment seemed to greatly enjoy the Blackwell complimentary cookies and juice box. Drunk, of course, with a crazy straw.

“And over there is—” Sophia began again in the same bored tone, but The Dread Lord Morakesh cut her off.

“Fine, fine. I get the point. When will he be free to see me then?”

Sophia took a deep breath and sighed, preparing the canned statement: “The Blackwell Corporation, Evil Consulting Agency, greatly appreciates all its current and future clients. We endeavor to expand our evil family. Know that you are a valued client, and your needs are our needs.”

Morakesh stood there baffled, then blinked and shifted in his bandages.

“What does that mean?”

“It means sit the fuck down and Mr. Blackwell will see you when he sees you. This dimension’s passage of time does not reflect your own. You will not be missed from your realm. Please enjoy our refreshments.”

It was obvious from her “that’s final” tone that the conversation was over. The Dread Lord Morakesh sat down next to his high priests and began idly flipping through an Entertainment Weekly from 2001, featuring Lord of the Rings. The Dread Lord Morakesh found this “Sauron” chap to be quite intriguing.

The room was silent, save for the errant magazine shuffling noises and the constant sloppy crotch-licking coming from Grey Fang.

“Do you mind?” Morakesh croaked, revolted.

Grey Fang paused his public pubic bath for a moment and looked up at Morakesh.

“Jealous?” the great lycanthrope asked and promptly returned to his cock-and-balls.

“A little,” Morakesh sighed with dusty air as he read his magazine. Being an undead Lich with vast power was great and all. But, thanks to being technically dead, he really missed having a working penis.

The Fourth Rule of Villainy

Villains are frequently as dumb, or dumber, than the heroes.

Chapter One

Where I Introduce Myself

Let me begin simply and to the point: My name is Jackson Blackwell.

I am forty-one years old, yet I look thirty. I am well built for my five-foot, ten-inch frame and I like to dress sharply. My background is a mix of Anglo and Middle Eastern. But my description is not what you are here for.

Some call me Shadow Jack, due to my nefarious activities. But there are some circles where I am known by my professional name: The Shadow Master.

I am a villain.

Let me be more clear. I am the villain. You see, I make other villains better and I profit from that. Consider me . . . a villain adviser, if you will. I exploit them—other villains, that is—for my own gain. Please, do not confuse this for a redeemable quality. I do for them, the weaker villains, what they cannot do for themselves. I help them try to defeat the hero. And I have wealth and power beyond measure because of it.

You see, true villainy doesn’t stem from a desire to do wicked things. Deviants who kill, rape, and torture are pure sociopaths.

Garbage.

Beneath me.

Just like those pompous, pretentious fools who cling to the Oxford comma.

I ensure that I destroy them whenever I encounter them.

Please note: I am above those things. Killing, for example, has to happen from time to time. But my kills come with purpose, not from wanton, base desire. I derive no pleasure in them.

True villainy comes from another desire. And I have that desire—to be the top power. To know I am better than everyone else I encounter. To take what I want, when I want, and how I want. Again, I see your juvenile sensibilities confusing this with ruling.

Any idiot can rule. In fact, most who do rule are idiots. I am the power to the side of them. The one guiding them, the one whispering in their ears. Until they no longer serve my cause. When that happens, I simply remove them and allow another pliable idiot to “rule.”

Seems simple, doesn’t it?

Why do I do it? Because I like it. I like being a villain. I am not a nice man. I have never been, nor will I ever be, a “nice man.”

Nor am I a pathetic anti-hero. Gods, I hate anti-heroes.

I have not the rough and gruff exterior of a sometimes killer with a compassionate heart. The kind of dirty you people tolerate. And do you want to know why you tolerate them?

Because you are evil.

Deep down, in the dark place of your heart, you wish you were as free as I. A villain. You wish you could cut loose and do what your dreary, boring, piss-ant lives won’t allow.

So you root for your anti-heroes. Because that is as close to my villainous freedom as you can come. Your beloved smugglers, berserkers, and vigilantes kill bad guys like me. And then you cheer.

Evil is punished. Anti-hero gets the girl and you relish in the villain’s demise.

Do you want to know another secret about you? Hmm?

Good people do not take joy in the fall of others. Good people do not take joy in the death of anyone. Even villains. Those that do? They are villains in waiting. That is you. But you are too cowardly to admit it.

It is OK, simple ones. The world needs villains.

You may disagree, which is understandable. Weaker minds often refuse to accept truth when it is presented to them. So, lie to yourself all you like. Heroes do not use fear and pain to succeed.

That is my domain. A villain’s domain.

It is the villain who sets the stage. It is the villain who causes the drama we love to watch in TV and movies. In the books we read. Without the villain, the hero is nothing. He or she has no motive. No ambition. Nothing.

I am Jackson Blackwell. I am a villain. And villains rule.

“Um, whom are you speaking to?” a voice said out loud, bringing me from my thoughts.

Across my desk sat Baron Martin Viktor Grimskull, the warlock, warlord, and ruler of the Great Eastern Empire. He sat in a garish ensemble of purple-stained leather and black plate armor. Atop his head and across his face, the Baron wore a helmet made from the bleached skull of a demonic animal.

I hated him. But his gold was excellent, pure, and seemingly never-ending.

“My apologies, Baron. Sometimes when my mind wanders, I forget that since I own this dimension, I am technically a god here. Ergo, my thoughts are sometimes broadcasted.”

The intercom on my desk buzzed to life. “Sir. You were doing it again,” Sophia scolded me.

I tapped the comm with growing irritation. “Thank you, Sophia. I am aware.”

“Your waiting room is growing as well, sir.”

“Who now?” I asked.

“Morakesh. A lich from—” Sophia said, but I cut her off.

“I know who he is. Annoying as hell and pushy. Well, he’s undead, so he isn’t going anywhere. Let him wait.”

“The others, sir?”

“They had appointments. I will see to them in turn.”

“Yes sir,” Sophia acknowledged as she clicked off.

“Now, where were we?”

“You summoned me here,” Grimskull stated. “I do not enjoy being summoned. By anyone.”

“Baron, have you ever heard the legend of Darth Vader?”

“What is a ‘Darth Vader’?”

“I’m glad you asked. The story of Darth Vader is an ancient legend from my world. A parable, if you will. You see, Darth Vader was a Dark Lord of the Sith. A master of arcane magics, who wore all black armor with a flowing black cloak and wielded a sword made of pure crimson energy. He was the right hand and enforcer of an emperor. Where he went, people trembled in fear. And all you heard was his fearsome breathing as he approached.”

“He sounds amazingly dreadful,” the baron said, trying to sound bored. But from the way he leaned slightly towards me, his body language betrayed his words.

“Would you like me to continue?” I asked as I lit up a black cigarette with silver tips from a small box on my desk. A gift from an old friend whom I helped hunt the most dangerous game. The cigarette gave off the scent of incense as I smoked it.

“If you must,” the baron said, wafting the smoke from his face. “So, this Vader chap, I assume he becomes the realm’s greatest warlord?”

“You would think so. Alas, it turned out the fearsome Vader was in fact a hero all along.”

“Disgusting!” the baron exclaimed.

“Indeed,” I agreed. “It turned out this villain was nothing more than a whiny, self-absorbed, arrogant child who only turned to a darker path to save the woman he loved.”

“For love? Weakness!” Grimskull decreed, and I nodded along. “And did he save her?” Grimskull asked.

“That’s best part: No!” I laughed and Grimskull laughed with me.

“Get this—he accidentally . . . oh my . . . he accidentally killed her!” I chuckled thinking about it. “During his transformation from being a guy named ‘Ani’ into Darth Vader, his tenuous grasp of his magical abilities reached across the realm and killed her while she was in childbirth.”

“Ha! That is incredible!”

“I know, I know,” I sniffed. “But after he killed her, he screamed ‘Nooo!’ when he found out. And what I always found odd was he never even bothered to ask about his children, who in fact survived. Twins. A boy and a girl.”

Baron Grimskull gave as quizzical a look as possible through his skull mask. “Why are you telling me this?”

I sobered my face and deliberately rested my elbows on my desk so I could lean in and stare into Grimskull’s beady yellow eyes. “Because this story of Darth Vader has a point. You see, not following up on the existence of his children proved to be his downfall. The boy became a follower of the same mystical arts as he did. And eventually, the son confronted Darth Vader before the emperor and destroyed the dark master. Vader turned back to being a hero and died in his son’s arms. Redeemed.”

“What does this have to do with me?” Grimskull asked.

“Because, Baron,” I said as I gestured with my left hand to a shadowy corner of my large and ornate office while snubbing out my cigarette with my right, “you to failed to follow up on your lineage’s actions.”

A very large black man, one of my elite soldiers, stepped from the shadows and presented himself to my left. The soldier was decked in head-to-toe black tactical gear from our world. He wore his balaclava pulled down and his night vision goggles covering his forehead. Grimskull leaned away, obviously intimidated.

The man in black handed me a leather pouch, saluted, and returned to his post in the shadows.

“Thank you, Courtney,” I said to the soldier. Courtney had been a soldier, bodybuilder, bouncer, and mixed martial arts amateur back in our world. Here, he was a highly trained operative in my employ. Plus, with a name like Courtney, he had a lot of aggression to work out.

I reached into the pouch and produced the gaudy and heavy Amulet of the Ember Soul. “Look familiar, Baron?”

Chapter Two

Where I Discuss Fantastical Beasts and How to Feed Them

“How did you come by that?!” Grimskull demanded as he jumped to his feet.

“Sit down, Baron,” I said flatly.

“That is mine and I demand you return it to me this instant or else you will feel my—”

“SHUT UP,” I said, raising my voice and cutting the baron off. My voice echoed from the walls as I used my influence over this realm to amplify my will.

“Sit, Baron,” I ordered. Instead of complying, Baron Grimskull began to manifest a ball of fire in his right hand.

Well, he tried. This was my realm, after all.

When the warlock’s magic refused to answer his call, he looked to me, confused. I in turn produced a Colt 1911 .45. A gift from a yellow-eyed demon for helping to torment a pair of monster-hunting brothers. I calmly aimed the weapon and fired one round into the baron’s breastplate.

Grimskull roared, more in shock than in pain, as the round knocked him over his chair onto the ground. The baron’s breastplate was made of a dragon-skin weave and was very resistant to damage. With this being my realm, I could have willed the bullet to pass through his body. But I decided it was best to get his attention for now.

Bloodshed could always come later.

“Baron, I assume you are willing to listen to me now?” I asked after Grimskull ceased his wailing. The baron rose to his feet and I gestured with the barrel of the 1911 to sit back down.

“In case you have not realized, this place responds to my wishes, not yours. Your magic is useless here, while I, on the other hand, could commit every act of savagery I wished upon you and there would be nothing you could do to stop it.”

“What?” Grimskull asked loudly. Obviously his ears were not reacting well from the tinnitus. The ringing from the weapon’s discharge would pass.

Sighing, I shortened my previous statement to “Sit the fuck down and listen.” That, the good baron comprehended.

“This amulet of yours is the result of our deal with a Never Realm demon. You give up a portion of your soul for power. But if anything happens to this amulet, what happens?”

“The denizens of the Never Realm come and claim the remainder of my soul and my mortal body,” Grimskull recited like a scolded child.

“Exactly. I worked very hard to negotiate that deal with the demon Y’ollgorath for you. So, please explain to me why the fuck this was left unguarded in a hole in the ground.”

“It was not left unguarded in a hole in the ground, as you so basely state it! The Amulet of the Ember Soul was guarded by the Bray Beast deep within D’hoom Dungeon.”

God, that sounded so cliché and badly written. The fantasy realms were positively the worst when it came to their naming conventions.

“Baron, the Bray Beast? Really?”

“Have you ever seen the Beast?” Grimskull asked. “It is a behemoth! With heavy natural plate armor, giant tusks, a deadly barbed tail, and acidic saliva. Oooh . . . the Beast is truly a monster to behold!”

“Mm-hmm,” I muttered. “And . . . what do you feed the Beast?” I asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Feed . . . it,” I said, my intonation suggesting that the good baron was an idiot.

“I don’t understand the question. The Bray Beast feeds off the flesh of those foolish enough to dare venture into the D’hoom Dungeon.”

“Uh huh. And where exactly is the D’hoom Dungeon?”

“High atop the Peak of Inverness lies the ancient path of Kara’Thum. The stone stairwell leads deep within the mountain, and there you will find D’hoom Dungeon.”

“Right,” I said, seeing if Grimskull was picking up what I was laying down.

He was not.

“So, let me get this straight, Baron. You have several tons of flesh-hungry monster in this dungeon.”

“Yeah.”

“And the only way to reach said dungeon is by climbing up one of the tallest peaks in the entire realm?”

“Exactly.”

“So, the only way the Beast eats is when a foolish adventurer climbs said mountain peak, braving the incredibly harsh terrain, descends almost the entire way back down the mountain along a winding stairwell, and stumbles into the Bray Beast? I have the facts correct?”

“Yes! Devilish, if I say so myself.”

“Then how did you expect the Beast to put up a fight against a worthy opponent if the damn thing is starving and emaciated from the lack of freaking food?”

Grimskull looked at me like I’d just spoken gibberish to him. “I don’t think you understand. Let me explain again. High atop the Peak of Inverness lies the ancient path of Kara’Thum—”

“No no no,” I cut him off. “I get the concept. I do. What you and all your ilk fail to realize is that when you place a monster, be it a Bray Beast or a dragon or whatever, to guard the treasure, sooner or later a smart hero is going to get the treasure. He or she is going to pack to survive the elements, have enough food for the trip, have perhaps a magical instrument or two to bypass traps, and face a mostly-starved monster who has survived, barely, off two to three humans a year. Did you honestly think that plan was going to work?”

“ . . . Yes?”

I sighed. I had to remind myself for the thousandth time, I am rich because they are dumb.

“I’m not a fool, Mr. Blackwell. The Amulet of the Ember Soul can only be destroyed by the blood of an innocent, a measure I demanded when the deal was brokered. But you also forget, I placed a spell on the amulet so that only one of my royal bloodline may remove it from its resting place. Since I have no offspring, the amulet should have remained there!” Grimskull exclaimed.

“Ahh, yes. That was the crux of this and my story of Darth Vader. Baron, do you have children?”

“No.”

“Well, I have this amulet here, which was taken by Courtney from an adventuring hero. So . . . thoughts?”

“Impossible. I have no wives, thus no royal children.”

I wanted to hang my head. “No wives. But any mistresses?”

“Concubines? Oh, hundreds. My favorite one was a little thing from Elder River village. Twenty-one years after she left me, I had the whole village burned to the ground.”

“Why did you wait twenty-one years?”

“It took me a while to get around to it?”

Shaking my head, I continued the conversation to the next logical conclusion that Grimskull was missing. “So, what do you think the chances are that she was pregnant when she left?”

“Oh. I see what you are getting at. You truly think I am stupid, don’t you?” Grimskull asked, crossing his arms.

“The thought did cross my mind,” I said, nodding.

“Well, ‘Shadow Master,’” Grimskull said, using my title as an insult, “I’ll repeat myself. I have no royal children. Sure, I have bastards out there. Who doesn’t? But my spell kept anyone but a royal child from taking the amulet. No royal wives, therefore, no royal children.”

“Baron, do you know why they call me The Shadow Master?”

“A nickname you gave yourself?” Baron Grimskull sniffed as he crossed his arms and looked away.

Petulant child.

But he was still a client. “No, Baron. It’s because working in mysterious and dark places is what I do. I find out things that others do not know. And I use that information for my benefit. For example, did you know that the Elder River village is built upon the ruins of an ancient civilization?”

“No?”

“Indeed. And that civilization was once called The Eld. Or, the First Men of the Elder Race. They were the people who crossed over from the Land Beyond into your realm of Caledon. They settled in the rich and fertile basin of the Elder River. They were the ones who dominated the existing population and taught them mathematics, science, and technology. A new age of prosperity rose. Well, until the powers that be turned on them, fearful of their science over magic.”

“You are referring to The Rift. The war of magic and science between man and elf that shaped the land. That was over a thousand of years ago,” Grimskull said.

I nodded. “Exactly. People believe The Eld were all killed off. After all, magic won. But what if several members of the The Eld High Tower were secreted away. What if members of their royal lineage survived? And hundreds and hundreds of years later, some of their descendants returned to their ancestral home to begin again. This time, in a simple life. Keeping their love of science hidden over the generations, lest they ever be discovered and destroyed again.”

“So . . . my concubine Greta?”

“A descended royal princess of The Eld.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“Exactly, Baron. So, here’s the new plan. You keep the Amulet of the Ember Soul in your castle. You keep it on you at all times. If someone comes for it, they will need to infiltrate your keep and confront you directly. If you leave your keep, you will take a regiment of armed guards with you, everywhere. You will now create a new squad of soldiers whose sole purpose is protecting you and that amulet. These soldier will be well paid and given benefits above all others. You will ensure that being one of your elite guard is something all within your domain should seek to become.”

“Well . . . paid?”

“Yes, well paid. As with the rest of your staff.”

“I have indentured servants,” Grimskull sniffed, “not staff.”

“Not anymore,” I said, shaking my head and pointing at the baron. “Now, you have a paid workforce. You will do everything in your power to make your staff love you and never betray you.”

“Is all this . . . necessary?”

“How many times have you had an assassination attempt against you? A direct attack? Someone poisoning your food?”

“Hmm.” The baron considered the question. “It does seem to happen a lot.”

Of course it does. Fantasy worlds are nothing if not predictable. “Yes, Baron, they do. Because your people hate you and wish to see you dead. That is why we are going to change your image.”

“But I am Baron Viktor Grimskull! All serve me! All bend their knee to my will! Those who oppose me die!”

“Which is why everyone is trying to kill you. You will still be Baron Grimskull, ruler of the Eastern Empire. But with a few modifications.”

“Modifications?”

“Yes.”

“Such as?”

“Other than a staff of well paid and fairly treated employed servants? Well, off the top of my head, you will also need an armed and trained standing army made up of loyal soldiers.”

“What about my recruitment drives?”

“Are you referring to the purging of the villages wherein you abscond with formidable fighting men and child soldiers?” I asked.

“Naturally.”

“Gone,” I stated flatly.

“What?!”

“Next come your taxes and tariffs.”

“What are those?”

“What you should be doing to the people of the Eastern Empire. Instead of taking what you want, you will impose a fair tax to generate revenue.”

“Your words confuse and anger me,” Grimskull said, narrowing his eyes.

Ignoring him, I continued. “You will use a portion of the revenue you receive to put back in to the empire’s infrastructure for road maintenance, houses for healing the sick, and schools for educating the masses.”

“OK, that is enough of that!” the baron declared, standing and pointing his finger at me. “You claim to be the master villain? The darkest of us all? Yet you advise benevolence, education, and . . . fair taxation? This audience is ended. I demand to be returned to my realm, immediately!”

About the Author

C.T. Phipps is a lifelong student of horror, science fiction, and fantasy. An avid tabletop gamer, he discovered this passion led him to write and turned him into a lifelong geek. He is the author of The Rules of Supervillainy, the Red Room series, the forthcoming Wraith Knight, as well as the soon to be released Agent G series. C.T. lives in Ashland, Ky with his wife and their four dogs.  You can find out more about him and his work by reading his blog, The United Federation of Charles, (http://unitedfederationofcharles.blogspot.com//)

Table of Contents

Foreword

Chapter One

WHERE I TRY TO TAKE DOWN THE EVIL PRESIDENT

Chapter Two

WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE FINAL BOSS FIGHT

Chapter Three

WHERE WE SKIP OVER MY IMPRISONMENT

Chapter Four

WHERE WE ESCAPE FROM SURBURBAN HELL

Chapter Five

OUR BRILLIANT PLAN TO ATTACK OTHER GARY DIRECTLY

Chapter Six

WHERE THINGS GO PEAR-SHAPED (OF COURSE)

Chapter Seven

WHERE THE GANG REUNITES LIKE IN RETURN OF THE JEDI

Chapter Eight

WHERE MY BRAIN SHUTS DOWN FOR A BIT

Chapter Nine

WHERE I MEET MY DAUGHTER FOR THE FIRST TIME

Chapter Ten

BEING A FATHER IS MY GREATEST CHANCE FOR VILLAINY YET

Chapter Eleven

WHERE I REALIZE OTHER PEOPLE HAVE PROBLEMS TOO

Chapter Twelve

WHERE I HAVE A NICE CHAT WITH MY DOPPELGÄNGER

Chapter Thirteen

MUSINGS ON THE LOSS OF FRIENDS AND LOVE

Chapter Fourteen

WHERE WE HEAD TO CLUB INFERNO

Chapter Fifteen

THE STATE OF THE SUPERVILLAIN UNION

Chapter Sixteen

WHERE I TRY TO SELL THE BLACK WITCH ON MY NOT-PLAN

Chapter Seventeen

DRAMATIC ENTRANCES MAKE FOR GOOD FIRST IMPRESSIONS

Chapter Eighteen

WHERE OTHER GARY CROSSES THE MORAL EVENT HORIZON

Chapter Nineteen

A QUIET MOMENT BEFORE WE GO TO WAR

Chapter Twenty

WHERE EVERYTHING GOES TO HELL (AGAIN)

Chapter Twenty-One

WHERE I FACE THE ONE DECENT PERSON IN THE MERCIFUL REGIME

Chapter Twenty-Two

THE FINAL SHOWDOWN BETWEEN ME, MYSELF, AND I

Epilogue

An Excerpt from Agent G: Infiltrator by C. T. Phipps – On Sale Now

Chapter One

Agent G: Infiltrator

Chapter Two

An Excerpt from Villains Rule by M. K. Gibson - On Sale Now

Prologue

Prologue pt. 2 - Electric Boogaloo

Chapter One

Where I Introduce Myself

Chapter Two

Where I Discuss Fantastical Beasts and How to Feed Them

About the Author