The rest of the Eternals were called away on missions, went to get their haircuts, or some other super lame reason to bring up my abandonment issues. Fortunately, I had seen this coming and already had dialed up Vixen. Time to go check out that USB drive that Abby gave us. First we had to ditch a posse of low-end reporters who were claiming that I am some uncontrollable destroyer of worlds. I resisted the temptation to punch one of them. Somehow they walked off with a story about Vixen being a drunk. I am honestly lost on this point, but whatever, they shoved off. Vixen and I hit up the library – Vixen called it an untraceable location – and our cunning friend got to business. I played look-out.
Patrons took fourteen books off the shelves around us, while the librarian re-shelved six. One gentleman coughed twelve times. One woman’s heart started racing, she wrote down four words in cursive, and she tore off towards the door. Two teens had holed up in the study room, heart beats escalating too, then him stifling a moan, the release, her pulling her hand from his pants. The coughing man brought up a tissue and spat into it. The woman headed towards the door pulled out her cell and made a call, she called the recipient Molly; Molly called her Lee. Lee could have had a lot going for her if she took any time to take care of herself. She looked worn out, frazzled. A little excited at the moment, but also a little scared. She blasted out the door and out of my life. Just another mystery I’ll never solve. I’ll never see Lee again, I know.
Vixen got the information from the drive. She told me part of it. I confess to not really listening. The world is a distracting place for me. Anyways it was pretty much exactly what we expected, grasping at straws, circling the truth with no hard evidence. One part really stuck out, though: Linda was on to some theory about clean-up crews that took witnesses from superhero events and made them disappear. She thought there was some secret lab at Midas that they were taken to, experimented on, and never came back from. Turns out, I know just the place. Whatever her motivations are, Vixen was totally down for breaking in there. Me, well, I just had to know. The future can be as clear as a bell. The past, hell. Let’s just say I don’t even trust my own name anymore.
We ran into a complication of sorts on the way in. Gun Bunny. Girl has a name to go with her unending optimism, but I mean she actually has bunny ears. Only they’re like… electrical. Kids these days. Well she’s pretty sold on this whole Midas Do-Gooder line, which is great. She should really be out there helping people, but here she was all cheerfully interfering with our attempt to fly under the radar. Whatever. She can control technology, so we just brought her along. We’ll see what she does with the truth.
So we got on the elevator and I just sort of knew where to go. You get used to it. The elevator thought I was the good doc, though. Weird, we’ll stick a pin in that for now. So we dropped down to the super secret basement level and yep, there were my favorite recliners. Standing in the room where they have erased my memory so many countless times, administered and re-administered the serums, each time deciding whether to terminate or re-inject me… the rage starts building. I wanted to tear this place down. Instead I resorted to a little preparation in case I end up here again, and then we all hid when a second elevator began to open.
I could describe for you, down to every wrinkle in his palm, to the way his breathing sounds, his wretched heart beats, his bladder moves, the uneven click his $600 shoes make that most likely means his left foot is 1/3rd of an inch shorter than the right, the god-awful product in his over-stylized hair that rubs on his collar just the tiniest bit when he turns his head, I could describe it all. I have memorized every evil detail. For brevity, though, we’ll just say in walked Mr. Shaw, followed by a couple of security guards and a body bag on a gurney. They dumped it in a storage vault – much like a morgue. I pulled the whole bit from their minds – ambulance or van pulls up, Mr. Shaw meets it with them, body comes down here. They were just as terrified of him as everyone else. Since Shaw’s our only suspect for Prometheus, we had our handler call the number for Prometheus on a burner we got from one of the gang bosses. Mr. Shaw’s phone rang, but he didn’t answer.
After they leave we inspected the bodies. No surprise at this point, really. Everyone we’ve ever turned over to Midas for questioning, even for the slightest reason, has been experimented on, died, and ended up here. Gun Bunny did her mojo with the computer here. More vital signs. More serum. Mine flickered by, and I tried to compare it to the others. Am I different? Am I further along? Our handler has talked about how the Trolls got greener and stronger with more and more serum. About how he is supposed to alert people when certain things happen. Does my serum go bad? Am I insane? Will I kill again? Um, yeah, totally. But, will it always be justified? These thoughts raced through my mind as the other two dither on about what we should do. We bail, and regroup in the coffee shop. Gun Bunny seemed to be having a crisis of faith. I tried to listen, but who am I to help?
I heard a voice in my mind, telling me to make things right. Telling me to kill Prometheus. Well, thanks, hot older chick who was showing us her ass as the door hit it, for not explaining a damn thing. I’ll get right on that. Got any clues?
Turns out that Midas did. We instantly got a mission. They believed Crey Industries had Prometheus at a secure location. It’s a simple go forth and murder. Er, Sweep and Clear? Anyways, sounded way too easy. So we got there, and snuck up through the bushes all Scooby-Doo like. I picked up a dozen or so minds in and around the area. Some were in freaking power armor. Gun Bunny started messing with them right away, sending one guy inside to check his helmet. Meanwhile I started reading minds, trying to whittle down to where the target was. Once we found our man, Gun Bunny distracted the guards by turning on all the appliances in the house, and then she melted a hole through the wall into the closet of the bedroom we needed to enter.
Vixen assumed bad-ass mode. She went pop-goes-the-weasel out of the closet and took a guy out literally before he registered any real thought. She also got the door closed. I followed in, grabbed the hood off the target and confirmed what I already knew – we’d just found Linda Summers. I threw her over my shoulder and beat an exit. Shit happened behind me, but I was a bit busy. I heard some grunting, electrical zapping, and not much more, and then the girls are throwing themselves in the van with me. We tore ass back to Abby’s.
Right now, Linda’s resting up. Gun Bunny seems like she could use a drink. Vixen seems like, well, Vixen. Unshakeable. And Abby is still insisting that this is just casual, that she doesn’t want a relationship, that she doesn’t trust a Corper, no matter how awesomely handsome I am.
For her sake, I hope she doesn’t begin to trust me. Even I don’t know what I might do.