A few minutes ago we entered the training room with the joy and the expectations of a pack of kids going to Disneyland. The different settings of the virtual reality chamber was overwhelming. Naecken choose an airport with terrorists, but when we found there was an outer space setting we switched quickly.
Swarms of giant mobile suits piloted by ugly aliens were shooting at us, but we managed to fight them as a well oiled team. Nowhereman gave orders, and we all performed perfectly, Kristogar using his power gauntlets, Mxy his magic, Tobias his supervelocity, Danny his morphing abilities. And me changing my density from superheavy to ghost form. In the end, the battle was won easily.
When the virtual settings wore off, we were all cheering each other. Nowhereman was smiling, and Kristogar shook his hands, saying: “Just like our first time, battling the Boulls in the Crock of Ages!”
I didn’t noticed those words. I was so happy then.
When we returned to the meeting room, we weren’t ready for what was waiting for us. Dozens of people. All dressed in colourful costumes, there was even a giant. Kristogar and Nowhereman seemed excited. “Jack Eimann! Dan E. Boy! Tora! Llance! Zod!” and many other names. They were at last sixty. Sixty metahumans, amles and females.
And then, Kristogar took off his mask. And his eyes were all black, like obsidian. He turned to me, and smiled. And then, all the metas took off their mask, and all had obsidian eyes.
I felt that was the end. They attacked.
Nowhereman was not one of them. He was surprised like us, even if not scared like me. We battled. But this time it was not like in the virtual room. This time we were inefficient, bumping each into the other, aiming badly at our enemies, hurting ourselves. We were losing, succumbing to a sheer power hundreds of time stronger than us.
Until.
Until the temple began collapsing over us.
I managed to arrive near Naecken: “Is your doing?” I asked.
“Too much evil” he said, with a suffocated voice, while he was irradiating energy from his whole persona.
Mxy was shouting at me: “I feel KLT! But he’s not alone!”
And then all went black.
We awoke on the sand of the lakeside. Naecken, “Nowhereman”, Mxy, Tobias, Danny and me.
Now we are still on the coast, looking at the lake. Of the “MBL Headquarters”, the only thing that has survived it was the old, battered wooden round table. The only real thing that was there.
Naecken seems sad. It’s the first time I see him with an expression like this.
“Kristogar was not the true one, if such a meta indeed exists on this plane of existence. Like the others metas. They were all normal persons, seduced and transformed by an higher, evil power. And I had to kill them. All.” Says the angel, with his (her?) female voice.
“It was either them or us” I notes, but that causes a tear to run down the blue cheek.
“Was the headquarter to attract that evil, Naecken?” I ask.
“I… I am sorry” he replies. Just I was suspecting.
There is a piece of an old newspaper ashore on the sand. “This planet is worst than Hell, Nae…” I say, pointing my finger to a picture of the war in Afghanistan.
There are children playing on the sand, very far, but their laughs arrive here. “…and holier than Heaven. We can’t change it. We can only help it to change itself.”
Mxy is talking with Danny and Tobias. The fancy costumes are gone, we are back to our tattered garbs. “We must find KTL. He is growing powerful with every day that passes. And, also, are you sure he should be our leader?” says Mxy, pointing to the Brit, which he is standing in front of the lake. He is talking to himself, with different voices. Split personality, it seems. One is called Howdy, the other Jack Nasty.
What happened down the lake, in that magic refuge? Heaven, Hell, Space and Time conjured up a fancy Universe where being lead by a fool seemed very cool.
But now, under the sun all is different, all is so real. The truth, for how much I hate it, is that our group needs someone to give directions, to coordinate our wish. And it seems that the best suited, God help me, is indeed me.
“Tobias, scan the place and find a deserted house or factory, or, best, a disused mine. We need a true resting place, possibly secure from the eyes of the satellites”.
Then I go near “Nowhereman”. “The headquarter… destroyed… the MBLeaguer… all traitor. It’s horrible. I needed the MBL, there is something…”
“Later, Nowhereman. They were not traitor, they were… villains…. disguised. But we are still here. Maybe we are not the best, maybe we are few and untrained. But we are here. Just don’t call us MBL. There is no MBL, and never will.
