Mod Superhero

Richtor wasn’t used to being surprised. As a Rogue of the Black Order, he was used to melting into the shadows and getting the drop on his foes. The magic of his order had been refined over seven hundred years to make the user invisible and undetectable. 

Only skilled diviners or those gifted with aura sight from an ancient bloodline had a chance of seeing through the Black Order’s veils. 

So when the blue-scaled artificer saw through his magic, needless to say, Richtor reconsidered his tactics. 

Despite his blessings of speed, the artificer had counterattacked with their palm blast, catching Richtor completely by surprise. The blast itself hadn’t hurt him so much as it hurt his pride. Getting flung across the subway station and into the far wall had hurt. So had the fall onto the tracks. 

Richtor stumbled to his feet. Thankfully, he’d managed to hold onto his heirloom daggers. He gripped them tightly, then wiped a sleeve across the nervous sweat on his brow. He quickly climbed back up onto the platform. He stayed crouched and small in the darkness. 

Across the platform, the rest of Richtor’s temporary allies weren’t faring much better than he was. 

Zindon, a Monk of the Risen Circle, exchanged blows with the blue scaled artificer. Most of the fight was too fast for Richtor to follow. Monks of the Risen Circle were masters of their body’s inherent magic and used it to bolster their bodies to superhuman levels. 

Richtor had looked into the abilities of each of his allies, and knew that Zindon was at the pinnacle of Class 2. All of them measured similarly, with Magus Rollan claiming to be Class 3. Not only that, they’d been chosen based on their complementary abilities and the likelihood of running into a biomech patrol. 

None of that seemed to matter now. They’d run afoul of a powerful and coordinated team of supers. Two artificers and a telekinetic. 

Richtor hoped at first that they’d been working for the Summit, but that hope died when the telekinetic asked for Magus Richtor by name. That did not bode well.

As quickly as the fight began, the blue scaled artificer had switched with their leather-wearing partner. Richtor hadn’t heard them exchange words, which made their coordination all the more concerning. Richtor and the others had complementary powers, but they’d never met before today, much less fought together. 

Richtor schemed from the shadows while Zindon and the Magus tried to coordinate. Zindon leapt after the blue scaled artificer, leaping from pillar to floor to ceiling. Gravity held no sway over him as he pursued the artificer relentlessly…

There was a brief moment where the blue scaled artificer was caught between the Magus and the monk. Lightning was one of the go-to elements against artificers. It should’ve sought out their armor, striking without fail… But now lightning bolts sailed across the subway station, casting fierce shadows everywhere except on Richtor. The artificer avoided them all.

Richtor’s jaw hung open as he watched the blue scaled artificer leap from the pillar, dodge a lightning bolt, and then cling upside down to the ceiling to fight off Zindon. 

For once, it seemed like Zindon might have the advantage. Richtor saw the thrusts of energy from the artificer’s shoulders. That was how they kept themselves aloft, but it must’ve taken concentration to do so. It hampered their abilities, if only slightly. 

Then Zindon was thrown backward as the telekinetic engaged them. The monk leapt from invisible barrier to invisible barrier. But no matter how fast they moved, the telekinetic kept them bottled up and trapped. 

Magus Rollan was forced back now by the blue scaled artificer. He was forced into hand-to-hand combat using a shroud of lightning and force to keep the artificer at bay. 

All the while, the artificer in black and gray pummeled Heledi, the spellsword. To hear the elders talk, she should have been the most capable fighter in their group. The Knights of Parthenon wove magic into their combat arts, giving them prowess and flexibility that no other order had mastered. Like all dual paths, it was an exchange of advantages. They learned few spells—only those that were quick and helped in direct combat. 

Richtor had been certain that Heledi would put a quick end to the black and gray artificer. Their skill disparity had been apparent from the start—which was precisely why Richtor had chosen his other target. 

But now, the black and gray artificer fought like a completely different person and had Heledi on the back foot. And that was before the artificer pulled out a shield and a whip out of their armor. Now the artificer fought like two skilled fighters, their shield, staff, and whip moving in unison. 

Richtor made his decision. If he could take down the black and gray artificer, then both he and Heledi could turn the tide of the battle. 

Richtor muttered his two spells of concealment, and another that turned his body ethereal. Then he floated through the air toward his target. 

The blue scaled artificer had seen him, but they had also seen Richtor coming. This time, he skulked between pillars, sure to stay behind his target. 

Seconds dragged on as he closed the gap, and finally Richtor struck. He lunged for the black and gray artificer, daggers outstretched—

Without looking back, the artificer’s whip grabbed his wrist. While Richtor was still in the air, the artificer spun, swinging the rogue like a club. 

Richtor slammed into Heledi. Something cracked and the wind left his chest. His vision waved as the pair tumbled across the tile. 

The rogue tried to push himself to his feet, but his limbs felt sluggish. Out of the corner of his fading vision, he saw Heledi having similar troubles. She looked around in a daze for her sword. 

Funny… Richtor could’ve sworn he was holding onto his daggers a moment ago… 

Then his vision went black. 

~ ~

This monk was getting on Athena’s last nerve. She was certain that he couldn’t see her barriers. It took him a split second to react to each new one she created—

But he must’ve been able to sense them. 

That, coupled with his speed and agility, made pinning him down a nightmare. 

Twice, she caught him with a barrier and tried to hurl him away, but each time he pivoted off it. Instead of getting hurled away in a straight line, the monk bounded up, down, or toward a pillar. As soon as he touched solid ground, he used magic to catch his balance. This resulted in the monk bouncing around the subway station like a rubber ball—

One that Athena struggled to catch. 

Of course, Athena had made it harder on herself than it needed to be. She was limiting herself to two barriers at a time, not including when she blocked an occasional bolt of lightning. 

She was also trying not to seriously hurt her enemy. He was so fast that Athena had to conjure each barrier several feet in front of him, lest she lop off a limb or worse. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Athena saw the rogue and the spellsword go flying across the platform. Emmett had taken down his opponent and picked up the floater. 

That was Athena’s cue to quit playing around. 

The monk still wore a look of steadfast determination as he leapt off one of Athena’s barriers. But this time, Athena sprung her trap. 

She conjured four wide barriers fit together in the shape of a pyramid, completely surrounding him. It took the monk two more jumps to realize that he was trapped. His face turned to surprise and then twisted to desperation. 

Four ghostly arms flared out of his back, and the monk threw a barrage of punches at Athena’s barriers. A smile flickered across her face as she realized they’d both been holding back techniques. 

The monk’s flurry of punches reverberated against Athena’s barriers, making the air quiver. But the forcefields didn’t budge. 

Athena could control the size and orientation of her barriers, but naturally, there was some overlap. She tried to avoid overlapping her barriers unless it was absolutely necessary, since it wasn’t a pleasant sensation. 

She collapsed the pyramid until the monk was balled up into a crouch. The barriers squeaked in her mind, like fingernails on a chalkboard. 

The monk’s spectral arms disappeared, and his real arms tapped feebly against the invisible barriers. Athena met his eyes, hoping that he got the message. 

Then she hurled him across the subway station. 

Athena kept him balled up as he flew away, releasing him just before he slammed into the still-dazed spellsword and rogue. 

Emmett barked a laugh, clearly enjoying himself. Athena finished by conjuring more barriers, pinning the disoriented supers to the ground.

Then Athena and the cyborg turned their attention toward Clara and Magus Rollan. 

~ ~ ~