The Amazing Origins of Mind's Eye! (Hotbuns)

Yet another month has passed by without me being able to write anything, and that makes me sad. Oh well. I'll try to make up for it next month if possible, but for now, here's a hot-buns story that I produced alongside one of my anonymous co-writers some months ago. We had tons of fun with this story for sure, and I'm definitely hoping to revisit it soon. There's another story I have in the backlog with some of the characters here, but that's something for tomorrow if I can remember it! ^^;

By the way: this story takes place in the same universe and setting as "Prometheus Busted"... which I absolutely should resume when I get the time. It's been way too long since I last wrote for it, but I've been kinda stuck on what to do for the next few chapters. Hopefully that'll be amenable to change soon enough, though...
We hope you enjoy!

All characters belong to the writers.


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The Amazing Origins of Mind's Eye!

by Skaea and an anonymous co-writer

Contains: F/M, M/M, */M, and some */F and F/F hotbuns. Mildly NSFW.
Word Count: 15,696

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It was the dawn of a bright new day in the shining city of Monumentropolis. Rising from the east coast of the United States, the beautiful skyline was a bastion of hope in a country torn by greed, bigotry, and cruelty. High above the rest of the buildings, the iconic Monolith Tower seemed to spear the heavens with its golden steeple, a beacon of liberty signaling a haven for the tired, the poor, and the huddled masses yearning to breathe free.

Here, the phrase “ordinary life” was both a common refrain and an oxymoron. Beneath its glittering exterior, the city seemed to be a magnet for every global threat imaginable in this existence. Aside from rampant crime, there were giant monsters, aliens, and even supernatural dangers from other dimensions invading almost every other hour. Nobody knew why this was the case; some had speculated that the Monolith Tower was to blame, but evidence pointed to trouble plaguing the city even before it had been constructed during the Roaring Twenties. Just how Monumentropolis had not collapsed in on itself and become lost to history would have been a mystery to all if not for one critical factor.

In a stroke of true kismet, good luck had balanced bad. Every single citizen who dwelled here, from the lowliest of the homeless to the mayor himself, somehow developed at least some modicum of supernatural talent, usually enough to put an end to the public menaces that showed up every day. How this happened was just as much of a mystery as why terrible things always seemed to gravitate towards the city itself, but nobody seemed to question it. Mysterious disappearances, mystical artifacts, magical visitors from other worlds, strange but attractive new transfer students… Literally anything could happen to anyone here, and nobody could predict who would be the next one to ascend to heroism or when that ascent would be.

Whatever the case, no matter who you are, or where you came from, in Monumentropolis, you’ll become the hero of your own saga — or the villain of someone else’s. Many, many stories have been told in this wonderous city since time immemorial, and many more will be for eons to come. This is but one of these stories.

*****

There are heroes who are made, heroes who are born, and heroes who build themselves up. And then, there are those who become heroes completely by accident. Usually it’s because they end up being dumped into the worst possible situation and end up doing the right thing without even realizing it. But some simply happen to be near that radioactive beetle, in the path of that mutagenic meteor… or in this particular instance, unlucky enough to sit on a misplaced syringe containing an experimental mind-enhancing serum.    

Deep within the heart of the Osthanes Research Institute, the narrative forces were stirring. Try as they might, though, they were quite unable to awaken the twenty-four-year-old researcher passed out on his desk, unable to avoid the inevitability of sleep even with four mugs’ worth of coffee, each downed every other hour, the nonstop late shift having lasted from the previous evening all the way up to 5 AM.

If one were to happen across him, they wouldn’t expect this seemingly ordinary youth to have achieved breakthroughs of any sort. He was currently wearing a wrinkled blue shirt with some coffee stains on it as well as faded jeans and a light brown jacket, as it was cold in the lab. With light brown, almost dirty blonde hair, blue eyes with gorgeous long and dark eyelashes, and smooth, flawless pale skin, he was certainly not the commonly imagined picture of a nerdy scientist. He had a nicely chiseled jaw with high cheekbones and was overall an extremely handsome young man. That said, his short hair was currently messy from lack of sleep and too much work, and he had bags under his eyes to boot. His reading glasses were set aside by his resting head as well.

His ID badge for the lab, as per the norm, bore his full name, Zechariah Edward Fitchus, but the name tag pinned to his coat bore witness to the hasty, shoddy handwriting of someone whose mind was thinking far too quickly for its own good. Without his clarification, it seemed to read “Zeakanah” rather than “Zechariah”. He’d long since given up on correcting those who called him “Zeaka”, having shortened the misinterpreted name to make it easier to say. So the narrative shall refer to him as Zeaka from this point forward.

Over the past two months, Zeaka’s team had been continuously studying and researching a formula they had deemed “Mind’s Eye”. Kept carefully under wraps and accessible only to the members of the team itself, the intent was to exploit certain properties of the human brain by activating certain synapses and altering their cycles of activity. If successful it could supposedly boost intelligence and mental clarity, bypass genetic illnesses that affected the brain, and even fully treat Alzheimer’s and brain cancer. Breakthroughs were imminent, of course, but there were too many setbacks to count – not in the least being the inevitability of human testing and all the ethical concerns it implied.

Still, about the only thing that could stop the project from nearing its completion, at least for today, was Zeaka falling asleep on his desk and remaining conked out for three hours straight.

In a shocking twist, it was not some epic plot twist involving a supernatural or otherwise extraordinary event that woke the sleep-deprived young man, but his phone going off with a text message alert.

“Urrgh… What in the–” he grumbled to himself, lifting his head and picking up the phone. He sighed in dismay upon recognizing his supervisor’s number. “Of course,” he groaned, before checking the message itself.

>Where have you BEEN?! You didn’t phone into this morning’s meeting AT ALL. Please tell me you’ve been pulling another all-nighter!

Zeaka thumped his head against his desk. He was going to be fired for sure. Without any other alternative, he typed in his reply and sent it:

>I can’t apologize enough, Dr. Appleday. I was up until 5 in the morning pouring through the readings from our latest test. If you can help, please let me know ASAP.

>I wish I could. We’re strapped as it is with handling complaints from the management, they’re not enthusiastic about human testing.

>Did you bring up animals?

>They already rejected animal subjects last month due to too many mutant creatures running around. We can’t rely on digital simulations forever, though. We’ll have to find people willing to give Mind’s Eye a shot.

>They’d be too concerned about the side-effects. If anyone should test it, it’s gotta be one of us.

>ARE YOU KIDDING?! We don’t even know what it’ll do to a live person! What if it gets someone killed?!

>You yourself said we can’t rely on simulations! And your concern about someone dying is precisely why nobody would want to sign up. Do you know how many experimental drugs and formulas have turned people into supervillains? Or flesh-eating mutants? Or God forbid, LLAMAS?!

>We’ll discuss this when I reach office tomorrow. For now, I’m giving you a day off for the sake of your health. Please get your desk tidied up and then go talk to your local doctor about your sleep problem.

>But I’m so close! We’re so close!

>I know, and if it has to come to it, I’ll take over your shift. I know you’re dedicated, but you can’t work yourself to death or we’d lose a talented young man who’s helped carry our team throughout this project. And you know we can’t afford that, can we?

>…sigh. Fine. I’ll go and see Clara. But as soon as I’m fit to work again, try and stop me. We’ll get there before long, I just know it!

>Ambitious, are we? Fair enough. Well, let me know as soon as you have something promising.

>Sure thing. If you need anything from my work, Doc, just shoot me an e-mail.

>Will do!

Zeaka shut off his phone before stretching and yawning. He really did feel unwell… Perhaps Appleday wasn’t wrong in his advice, but then again he usually wasn’t. And in any case, he’d get to see his crush since college today, and maybe even ask her out like he’d wanted to for far too long. What was the worst that could happen?

Not too far away, at the University of Monumentropolis, Clara Bellemore had just finished a few classes for the day. She was studying to be a paramedic, as she was already an EMT. Her boss had called her in to work a double shift at the fire department so she was heading directly from the campus to her job. She sighed and hurried off, knowing if she was late to her shift, the chief would have her head. Clara ran into the building just in time. “Here! I’m here! I got caught up at school with a test. I’m sorry I was almost late!” she said hurriedly then went to the women’s locker room to change into her EMT uniform. “I wonder what Zeaka is up to right now… since there are no calls right now, I guess I could shoot him a quick text,” she thought to herself. She pulled out her phone and tapped on Zeaka’s number.

>Hey. Zeaka. I’m at the fire department. My shift just started. I haven’t heard from you at all today. When you get the chance, please call me.

No response. Not immediately, not for the next ten minutes.

Clara sighed. “I guess he’s fallen asleep again… He really needs to see a doctor or something,” she said to herself. “Poor Zeaka is working so hard… I’m afraid that he’s going to work himself to death…” She looked at the time. “Oh yay. I can go home. Not a busy shift at all. Strange for such a big city…”

With that thought in mind, she went into the locker room and changed into her normal clothes. Since her apartment was only a few blocks away from the fire station, she always walked home.

“See ya later, Chief! I’m heading home now.” she called into the Chief’s office then headed home.

On the way to her apartment, Clara’s mind was already racing. She bit her lip and kept glancing at her phone. Zeaka… I really hope you’re okay… she thought. If your work really is confidential it had better be worthwhile in the end. She continued to stare down at her phone as she walked down the sidewalk, silently cursing the fact that he couldn’t tell her what he was doing, but fully understanding why. Should he spill the figurative beans, the secret would be found by someone who’d surely abuse it… a tragic occurrence which had already happened at least a dozen times to many different technologies and innovations in the history of this bizarre but amazing city.

She was so distracted in her worry that she failed to notice someone else about her age, heading her way and in the opposite direction. Clara accidentally bumped into the other person and looked up to see what or who she had bumped into.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Clara said worriedly. “Are you okay?”

The young woman stared down at Clara menacingly, apparently being half a head taller than her with spiked hair. No, scratch that. Literal spikes like a giant purple sea urchin instead of hair. “Oi!” she barked. “Watch where you’re goin’, ya little punk!”

Clara bit her lip. “S-Sorry!” Clara rushed by but not before hearing a POW-THPP-THPP-THPP-THPP-THPP-THPP directly behind her, and suddenly feeling a rather sharp pain in her bottom. Several, in fact. Clara’s eyes widened before she grabbed her ass in sudden, burning pain.

“YEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOUCH!!! Ouch ouch ouuuuuch! What the hell was that?!” She pouted and looked back to see the woman scowling. Said woman suddenly gave her the middle finger — brandishing the foot-long purple needles growing from her bare forearm. Several of them seemed oddly missing…

Clara whimpered and quickly rushed to the nearest public bathroom. “Ow ow ow!” She sniffled. “My poor bum!”

The spike-haired woman snorted as she watched her go, then turned and stomped off to who knew where, clearly in a very bad mood.

Confused and frightened, not to mention forgetting that she’d left the outward-swinging door to the bathroom open, Clara turned and yelped in horror. Sticking out of her bottom were a half-dozen purple spikes the size of knitting needles, thankfully not embedded too deeply. Clara hissed in pain and held her throbbing bottom. “Oh ouch!” she cried as she pulled out the first of the spikes. It hurts even worse now that I know that I have these spines in my butt! Forcing herself to tug out the next one, she yelped again, the searing pain in her seat feeling ten times worse than the nastiest bee sting, somehow far more than if actual needles had poked her. And getting them out even more so…

She was midway through her fourth spine when her phone finally went off, causing her to jump nearly a foot in the air with a terrified scream. She wasn’t sure why, but she seemed to be feeling far jumpier than she otherwise would’ve… Had those spines injected something in her that caused it? Like a stimulant targeting the amygdala…?

Not that it mattered at the moment. With a whine of pain, she fished the phone out of her pocket and answered it as best she could.

“Hi, is this Clara?”

“Hello? Zeaka? Is everything… ow… okay?”

“Oh, just had a long night yesterday. Sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner. Doc decided to gimme a day off today so I could recover… I was actually hoping to see you about my sleep deprivation.” Beat. “So, uh, everything alright with you? You sound… troubled.”

“No no, I’m okay. I’m more worried about you.”

“Believe me, you’re not the only one. Why do you think I got off work early in the first place?”

“Do you need me to come over to your place tonight?”

“No no, I think I can stop by yours. I’ve been meaning to visit your place anyways, rather than the reverse. Is that alright with you?”

“Of course. I’ll see you in a bit. I’ll make you some tea when you get to my place.”

“Sweet! Talk to you soon!”

Click.

The phone call ended, with Zeaka none the wiser regarding Clara’s rather painful encounter from earlier. Little did she know that the grump who’d shoved those awful spines into her backside in the first place would go on to play a far more important role in her boyfriend’s life than even she would suspect. Not that Clara would know that, for she was currently focused on de-pricking herself.

Wincing in agony, Clara pulled out the last three spikes from her behind and rubbed it tenderly; there were quite a few puncture wounds left behind that were in urgent need of band-aids. “Ouuuuch… I’ll need some ice when I get home…”

A few more seconds of dead silence passed. And then an errant breeze caused the door to slam shut, the sudden noise making her shriek like a schoolgirl and jump so high that she would swear she’d nearly bonked her head on the ceiling.

*****

It wasn’t long before Zeaka knocked on the door to his girlfriend’s house. He’d known her for a few years during college, but then again he’d been starting his master’s while she was just barely a freshman. They’d nonetheless gotten along splendidly and before long, they were making heart-eyes at each other, as at least one acquaintance put it.

Clara had patched herself up the best she could by this point, and as soon as she heard the knock on the door, she put on some comfortable pants and headed to the door. She looked through the peephole and saw that it was Zeaka. She smiled brightly and opened the door. “Zeaka! Come on in, Sweetheart. How are you feeling? Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I’ll put on some tea.”

“Extremely tired, but anticipating an excellent result,” he replied as he slipped into the house. “I know my work is confidential but at least I can say that much.”

“You poor thing...well go ahead and relax on the couch. I’ll start some tea.”

With a tired groan, Zeaka was happy to obey. But no sooner had he dropped his bottom onto the couch when his blue eyes popped open (he’d swear he’d just heard a faint POINK) and he shot back to his feet with a pained scream. “YEEEEEEEOOOOWWWWWW!!!”

Clara rushed into the living room. “Zeaka!? Are you alright? What happened?”

Zeaka swore at the top of his lungs. “Why is there a sewing needle in the couch cushions?! Get it out!!!” He turned to reveal the offending piece of metal now stuck in the seat of his pants.

“So that’s where that needle went...I’m so sorry! Here...hold still…” She quickly pulled the needle out. “There we go…”

The brown-haired man screamed again, cradling his punctured bottom. “AAARRRRRGH!!! Ahh… Owwch, thanks!”

“Um, you’re welcome? I hope you weren’t hurt too badly.”

“Well, at least it was just a needle. If it were a syringe I’d be more concerned.” Especially if it was loaded with the experimental formula, he added in his head. The serum needs to be injected into the bloodstream to work, and I gotta admit, even I’m too scared to try it…

He was staring off into space as he pondered this, his expression slightly vacant. This was not unnoticed by Clara.

“Zeaka? Are you alright? You’re staring off into space…” She felt his head. “Do you need to lay down?”

“Maybe? I’ve only slept for three hours, so perhaps I should get some shut-eye more often. Though I’m still not sure if using your guest bedroom is a good idea… I don’t think we’re that far in our relationship yet,” he added, before yawning.

Clara looked a little offended but brushed it off. “I understand, but you need rest. Let me take care of you for the night.” She kissed his cheek.

He swooned a little from that little smooch, and was ready and perfectly willing to agree to her proposition. The moment was ruined, however, by his phone going off. “Oh, come on!”

Clara sighed. “I’m guessing it’s your job…”

Zeaka pulled out his phone nonetheless, and recognized the number with a groan. “He’s still at it with dragging me to the office, isn’t he…”

He answered the phone with an expression of clear indignation. “Yes, Doc?”

And then he fell dead silent as Appleday answered. Clara couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she did notice when Zeaka’s expression turned from annoyed to stunned, and then to outright horrified.

“…I’ll be right there,” he replied, before turning the phone off and pocketing it.

“Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

“I gotta go,” he replied, his voice shaking with terror. “There’s a goddamn armed robbery going on at the research institute!”

*****

It was mere minutes later when Clara was driving Zeaka back in the direction of the lab as fast as she could. It was already nightfall by this point, and he was struggling not to fall asleep, which was why she’d volunteered.

Clara sighed. “Zeaka...let me come in with you. I’m worried about you…”

The brown-haired man shook his head. “I’m not supposed to show anyone where my work is. My team and I are the only people with clearance, after all. If you can call the police and get backup in place, though, that’d be good.”

He got out of the car. “Stay here and wait for me,” he said, before giving her a peck on the cheek. “If I don’t come back, well… I’ll come back. I promise.”

“Zechariah!” Clara yelled out and tried to reach for him, but it was too late — he’d sprinted off and headed into the building. She sighed and quickly called the police. This could take a while…

Just his luck, the crooks had already broken through the security system and taken out the guards. They weren’t dead, thankfully, but how come they were lying face-down with their butts in the air and oh god were those foot-long purple spines sticking out of their asses…?

He knew one thing, though. As long as there were people in that lab, Mind’s Eye was under threat.

With that grim thought, he ran as fast as he could towards the lab. Before he could get through the secret doors, though, he heard voices, and stopped. Several men and women were talking in hushed, urgent voices; he couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he knew they were up to no good. Just like in all those superhero comics he’d read as a kid in his childhood hometown of Bladezville, California…

He peeked around the corner and gasped in horror. There were three men with machine guns and one woman with ridiculously spiky purple hair and a sledgehammer in her right hand, all of whom were wearing kevlar armor and bandannas over their mouths and noses. More importantly, though, the door they were standing in front of — and no doubt trying to break into — was the one leading to where the workstations for Mind’s Eye were located. Then again, of course, a lot of classified projects were behind that door — they could’ve been looking for anything for all he knew.

The armed men were urgently discussing how to get the door open, with the spiky-haired woman looking increasingly annoyed and agitated. Ultimately, however, their chatter seemed to be going nowhere, for apparently none of them knew how to pick a lock or hack a digital security system. Finally, the woman yelled for them to be quiet, and then smashed the security touchpad with her hammer.

Zeaka stifled a gasp. These criminals had just broken into the secret lab! But they hadn’t figured on one thing: there was only one way in. Likewise there was only one way into each of the sectors of the lab containing project research, since they were all branching off from a single corridor.

So while he was too late to stop them getting in… he could at least keep them from getting out.

The largest man, a fierce, burly person with a black crew cut, olive skin, and muscles rivaling Ironback himself in terms of girth, kicked the door down easily. The men and woman filed in, unaware that Zeaka was secretly tailing them — and since the door was blown open, he could slip in as easily as they did.

The woman stiffened a little and glanced behind her, but not fully turning around. “Didja goons hear anythin’?” she asked in a Spanish accent. Was she Mexican or something?

The other three men stood up a little straighter. Crap. Zeaka would have to be a little more cautious or he’d be spotted. He hadn’t entered the corridor, thank goodness, but he’d been lurking right next to the door.

The woman shook her head and sighed. “Whatevah. Just get da stuff so we can get outta here.” She ordered as she started looking through some papers. “Mind’s Eye… Mind’s Eye… Ah! Mind’s Eye! Brilliant! Now with this formula, the boss’ll be able to make more, and our gang’ll soon be the most powerful gang in Monumentropolis!”

Back at the entrance to the secret wing, Zeaka’s blood went cold as ice.

“Or we’ll bungle it up, the boss will kill us for sure, and we’ll be out of a job before sunup,” the blond goon replied with a sour expression.

“Ah shuddup, ya dummy!” the spiky-haired woman spat. “Ya don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout!”

“You said we’re being followed, though, right?” The third mook, a redhead with a goatee, replied soberly. “What if someone from the police — or worse, a namby-pamby superhero — decided to show up right now and kill us? Or worse, put us in jail?!”

“Shuddup! Seriously! I was just paranoid for a second! I probably heard nothin’! Just grab da serum!”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Zeaka rushed into the corridor, moving to barricade the doorway just after the others went in. “Oh, you’re not paranoid, Spiky! You’re screwed!”

“See? I told you!” cried the redheaded mook, pointing his gun at the scientist. And that was when Zeaka realized that he’d messed up big-time.

Give him credit, he wasted no time screaming. He dived aside just as the gunfire began. But the woman stopped the men before they could continue.

“Stop the firin’! This kid could be useful. Tie ‘im up, boys. He’s now our hostage.”

“Whatever you say, Urchin,” the large dark-haired man said with a groan. What was she playing at, anyway?

Zeaka was not, in spite of his constant struggles with his studies, a non-athletic person. When one has to rush all the way out of the secret wing corridor to get to the only bathroom in this wing of the research institute, they have to be fast or they’ll wet themselves. He wasn’t confident that he’d outrun gunfire, but the men were too surprised to respond in time before he’d hurtled in between them and into the lab, making for the container full of syringes loaded with the prototype formula.

The spiky-haired woman who had been referred to as Urchin growled in annoyance. “Ya idiot goons! Grab ‘im now! Don’t let ‘im get away with that serum!” She ran at the young scientist, aiming her arm at his unprotected backside, and fired a few of her spikes.

Spikes? On her arm?!

POINK! POINK!

He had only had a second to process his observation when he felt something spear him in the left buttock, and then the right. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as the sensation kicked in…

“EEEEEYYYYOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!!!”

Screaming, he hopped around madly in place, trying to pull the spines out. “OW OUCH OOOH! WHAT IN THE BLAZES—?!”

“Ahhh, dat nevah gets old…” Urchin smirked, suppressing a laugh.

“You’re a supervillain!?” cried Zeaka. He managed to pull one of the spines out; it had been embedded an inch deep in there. “YEEOUCH!”

“Nawp. I ain’t no supervillain. I’m just a gal deliverin’ pizza after everybody’s left for the day. Of course I’m a supervillain, puta madre! What else would I be!?”

“Who told you about Mind’s Eye, anyway?” asked Zeaka, leaning against the counter where the container of syringes was sitting to pull out the other needle. “And why would you want it now? It’s not even ready for public release yet!”

“We want it ‘cause da boss wants it, dum-dum. Whatevah da boss wants, he gets. Now stop askin’ questions and be quiet.”

“What, and let Mind’s Eye fall into the wrong hands? Not a chance!”

Before she could react, he’d lashed out and made to slug her in the face.

He would’ve hit if it weren’t for the fact that he was suddenly feeling rather dizzy…

The men lunged for him, but somehow he managed to avoid all of them. In his stumbling he ended up upsetting the container, which fell and hit the office chair that happened to be behind him, its lid coming off. Not a soul in the room noticed when one of the needles containing the blue fluid slid out and ended up wedged between the chair cushion and the backrest, its loose cap coming off and its slender needle pointing upwards at an angle.

“Get ‘im, boys!” cried Urchin.

The men proceeded to lunge at Zeaka, and started making swipes and jabs at him, but his seemingly drunken stumbling, somehow, caused him to evade them more than they managed to hit. He did take a sock in the chest or stomach every so often, but it seemed like the venom was doing more to knock him out than they did.

The three of them decided to surround him after a few minutes, and wound up for one final triple-clothesline. But then he simply keeled over, and all three of them missed his head… and punched each other in the face. The simultaneous knockouts sent all of them sprawling.

“For the love of… why did I have to get these idiots…?” She sighed and aimed her arm at Zeaka again. “Alright, time to die.”

With a yell of panic, Zeaka stumbled back, unaware of the chair behind him. So it was that he tripped over the edge of it with a cry of indignation, took a hard seat in it —

SHNKK!

and felt a jolt of absolute agony shoot through him, that forgotten needle finding its mark squarely in the middle of his recently abused rump.

There was a beat of dead silence, both conscious people having eyes as wide as saucers. And then the inevitable happened…

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!”

Zeaka screamed so loudly that he was surprised the glass beakers nearby didn’t break, leaping from the chair and hopping around in pain again. Urchin could only gawk at the scene before her, and it was a few seconds before she realized that the plunger of the syringe was depressed all the way, with all the blue fluid evacuated from its container.

There was only one way it could’ve gone out… through the needle which was now embedded up to the hilt and dead-center in the boisterous brunette’s bouncing bottom!

“GET IT OUT! GET IT OUTTTTT!!!” he howled, trying to pull the needle free before it broke off of the syringe inside his ass and led to more dire health complications.

“Uh… Nope… I’m out. See ya!” Before he could react, she’d swiped the box and prepared to escape.

“NO!” Zeaka cried, half-lunging and half-limping towards her. “You’re not getting away with Mind’s Eye!”

“Wanna bet, chump?” Urchin laughed a little. “No one else is here, and yer incapacitated, so now is the perfect time to escape, so see ya! Wouldn’t wanna be ya!”

“Not if we have anything to say about it!” a voice cried from outside the lab.

Urchin’s hazel eyes widened in horror. “Mierda! Pollas en vinagre! I’m screwed! I’m so screwed!”

She looked outside the door to the lab… to see half a dozen police-owned firearms trained at her. Not even her spines could save her if she couldn’t fire them faster than they could shoot.

Urchin thought for a moment then slowly put the box of syringes down. “Okay, okay. Ya got me.” She put her hands in the air, seemingly surrendering.

The police were not so fooled. One of them aimed his revolver, while another whipped out a taser… Zeaka, meanwhile, was already finding it quite difficult to stand up straight. Whether it was because of serum, something in those spines from earlier, or just his own messed up sleep schedule was debatable, though.

Urchin smirked and fired several of her spikes at the police, hoping to hit them all. “I gotta split! See ya around, ya jokahs!” She said as she tried to pick up the container of syringes again.

Her first mistake was that she had opened fire directly at six armed police officers. That was usually enough to get people shot, and even supervillains were not immune to that ruling. Her second and more glaring mistake was that she had turned her back on a cop armed with a taser pistol, preventing her from anticipating the shot. And her third mistake? Three words: No backside insulation.

The ensuing comedy spoke for itself.

POINK-BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!!!!

“YEEEEAAAAAGH!” Urchin screamed in pain, spasming uncontrollably for a few seconds, before going down like a stone balloon, face first and bottom up and smoking. Curiously, though, Zeaka keeled over unconscious himself mere moments later. The last thing he heard before his world went dark was Urchin groaning something along the lines of, “We are SO fired…”

*****

The next thing he knew, Zeaka found himself lying in a hospital bed, lying face-down with a cloth over him. He was also quite aware that under the covers, his rump was bare due to his pants and boxers pulled partway down. It kinda stung, too, for some reason…

Clara was next to his bed, gently holding his hand. “Zeaka…? You’re awake. How are you feeling? Someone told me that you had an accident in the lab… Can you tell me what happened? Can I get you anything? Water? I should tell someone that you’re awake.”

Zeaka sighed in slight exasperation, but appreciated the support. Clara was worried, and when she was worried, she would ramble on, asking him questions and doting on him.

He wasn’t sure where to start. “Well… I went inside, and these people were already in and were after that work project of mine… I tried to stop them, but there was this woman, with spikes on her hair and arms…” He shivered a little in his bed.

OH… The woman I ran into today… She broke into Zeaka’s lab? Clara thought to herself. She did seem like a mean person...but a crook…?

“She certainly seemed like a crook,” he replied, pressing his face into the pillow. “She wanted to steal our project to give to someone important…”

Then both of them fell silent.

“Were… Were you speaking out loud, or…?” Zeaka lifted his head and shoulders up, staring at her with wide blue eyes.

“No...no I was not. I was just going to ask how you knew that I called her a crook…” Clara stared into Zeaka’s eyes. “What exactly happened at the lab, Zeaka? Tell me everything.”

His eyes were huge. “I signed the contract, Clara; my project is confidential. But let’s just say that I landed on a syringe of something and now, well, I… I can read your thoughts.” He gasped in horror. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what to do with this and what if I ended up intruding on your most private thoughts and—”

“Zeaka? Shush. Right now, let’s just focus on getting you out of here. Then we can focus on your new power, okay? Right now, you need rest.” Clara kissed his forehead and nuzzled him.

He gasped in surprise, blushing hard, sinking back onto his cushions. “Uh…”

“Just lay back down and try to rest.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that, until he saw her pulling back the covers over his naked bottom. “Okay I’ll try, but what are you doing?!”

“Oh nothing...just checking your wounds. Don’t you worry about a thing, Love.”

“…I don’t like the sound of that,” he replied. He also noticed someone else enter, and he was quite sure what was going to follow. If she told him not to worry, that was a sure sign that he should.

Just a little poke… Nothing too bad. Clara smiled softly.

“A little p—?!” He let out a yelp of indignation and slight betrayal, but it was too late to escape the needle full of antibiotics before it struck.

POINK!

“YEEEAAAAARRRRGH!!!”

“Oh, come now. Don’t be such a baby. It wasn’t that bad.” Clara rolled her eyes a little.

“It hurts, though!” he complained, before feeling the needle withdraw. “NGAAAAH!”

Why do so many people complain about these things even though we put the anaesthetic on? said a different voice in his head, a slightly older woman. Either they’re total crybabies or we’re doing something wrong…

“Oh god… I think I can read the thoughts of anyone in the room… Oh no. No. No no no…” He clutched his head, feeling a surge of terror even as the nurse put the bandaid on his bottom.

The other nurse looked helplessly at Clara. “Is it bad that this isn’t even close to the weirdest case I’ve gotten?”

“In this town? I think it’s okay.” Clara shrugged.

The brunette nurse, with her hair tied in a bun, looked down at their patient with a slightly bereaved, but sympathetic expression. “My apologies for intruding, Mister… Fitchus, right? You’re at the Gray-Carter Municipal Hospital, if you’re wondering, and specifically in one of the wards that treats accidents involving mutagenic injuries.”

“Mutagenic injuries?” Zeaka felt his heart skip a beat. “You mean I’ve changed because of whatever got in me? Is that why I can read minds?!”

“Possibly. I’m Nurse Nina Curandera, and I treat superheroes on a regular basis. I… I hope you don’t mind me being your caretaker during your future visits. If you’re brought in again…”

Clara glared a little. “Well seeing as how he’s dating me, an Emergency Medical Technician, I don’t think he’ll be coming here very often at all. I have a talent for treating injuries such as this.” She noticed his expression and hastily added, “Well, most of the time…”

“Well… Do you at least have the registration paperwork with you?” asked Nina.

“Registration paperwork?!” cried Zeaka.

“If you’re going to be a hero, you’ll need to sign up so we know you won’t be up to anything illicit.”

Clara looked astonished, and a little upset as well. “What if he doesn’t want to be a hero? This city is overrun by superheroes anyway. Zeaka is a researcher. He doesn’t know anything about fighting crime…”

“She isn’t wrong,” Zeaka added. “After what happened that landed me here, maybe I should stay away from a superhero life… especially since I’m already strapped as it is.”

“But you have powers now,” said Nina. “Villains are definitely going to come for you, whether you like it or not. I’ve had multiple patients of mine decline signing up, only for antagonists to find them anyway. It’d at least do you good to have financial compensation—”

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re saying that you can get paid for being a superhero?” Clara narrowed her eyes. “Superheroes are supposed to protect the city because they want to, not because they want money…”

It doesn’t exactly work that way, though, Zeaka heard Nina think to herself. If a villain renders you homeless…

Zeaka made his decision. “I’ll sign, then. But I’ll probably return to my job after that, without doing anything with uniforms or anything. That way, it’d be better to keep our work protected…”

Clara’s mind was racing frantically. But… Superhero work is dangerous… What happens if one day… You don’t come back to me? What if a supervillain kills you or something…? What about me? I’ll be left alone...no more Zeaka...

Then she felt his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t you worry,” he replied. “Registering would give me — give us — more protection, in case I don’t make it. It’d be safer for us both, especially knowing how valuable Mind’s Eye could be…”

“Mind’s Eye?” Clara’s eyes were wide. “What’s a Mind’s Eye?”

Zeaka suddenly realized what he’d said. “Uh… That’s it, that’s what I’m calling myself. Mind’s Eye. I think it has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”

Nina smiled a little. “I think it suits you.”

“I definitely like the sound of it.” Clara chimed in.

Nice save, kiddo, Zeaka thought to himself with a satisfied smile. Though I’m pretty sure Dr. Appleday’s gonna have some questions later…

*****

“You did what?!” Appleday looked justly indignant, first due to the robbery and especially after what Zeaka had told him. The head of the research team was rather tall and slim, with shoulder-length brown hair and equally brown eyes which were currently regarding his protege with just indignance. He wore a doctor's coat around a cashmere sweater, as well as gray pants and shoes like a college professor.

“I know I dropped the name, and I’m sorry,” Zeaka said with a regretful tone. “It was dumb and careless, and I don’t know what to do now that I’ve made a superhero persona out of it…”

The rest of the scientists were gathered as well, and one of them piped up, “A superhero persona? Is this about those weird side effects you mentioned?”

“Yeah, we heard you got mind-reading powers,” added another. “That’s kind of a superpower, right?”

Appleday shook his head. “Superheroes are magnets for trouble, though. If our serum did this to you, it appears our work’s just gotten much, much harder.”

“I’m not fired, aren’t I?” asked Zeaka, shivering in horror.

The scientists looked at each other, confused.

“Why should I get rid of you now?” asked Appleday. “You’ve carried us this far. If anything, we still need to test the effects of the serum on human physiology, and now that you got a dose of it, well… I guess you’ll have to be our guinea pig for it.”

“I figured,” Zeaka replied, feeling a little downcast. “But you have to know it was an accident…”

The other scientists murmured amongst each other.

“You were very brave, though, taking on that supervillain to keep the formula safe,” replied a third researcher. “Maybe you could field-test what the serum does? You already have a good enough excuse…”

Appleday looked at her, dumbfounded. “You mean you want him to be a superhero? That’s just capitalizing on his little mess-up, and may do more harm than good if we’re not careful…”

“It’d still be worth a try,” the first scientist replied. “So that when people start asking about Mind’s Eye, we can deflect them from what the name really refers to.”

The other scientists began agreeing with these statements. Appleday spluttered in confusion and worry, but finally he sighed. “Fair enough, superhero it is. But we do have something else worth mentioning which might have something to do with that.”

“And what may that be?” asked Zeaka. “A weakness or something like that? Surely I gotta have some of those…”

Appleday paused in thought. “Well, in case the serum went, uh… out of control… We developed a countermeasure, too. It’s called galaxite. Basically, we’ve developed an organic crystal that exploits an enhanced piezoelectric effect to emit radiation which counters the accelerated neural activity induced by the serum. Essentially, in its presence you’ll have your nervous system return to its normal rate of activity.”

Zeaka gulped and nodded. “Keep up the alias, watch out for galaxite, save the day. Got it.”

“And one more thing,” said Appleday, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. “If you let slip of where you really got your powers from in any way… consider yourself fired.”

*****

Several days passed, with Zeaka continuing to study the effects of the serum on himself as well as how to keep it from causing people’s neurons to go out of control. Appleday was making sure to keep a much closer eye on him now, but there was no guarantee that he’d remain holed up in the lab forever — especially not with Clara fussing and fretting over him.

The galaxite was certainly helpful in keeping the side effects of the serum in check, but Zeaka was worried about one other thing. According to Appleday, it negated its effects entirely in large amounts. In the wrong hands, a modification of it could shut down other people’s powers entirely… a very scary thought. But he tried not to let it overwhelm him.

As it turned out, the increased nervous system activity induced by the serum didn’t just allow him to, in Appleday’s words, “automatically synchronize [his] neural activity frequency with that of other people in a given radius, thereby allowing read-only access to their thoughts and emotions.” It also boosted his own nervous system and certain other functions to impressive levels, giving him other related abilities.

His senses began going into overdrive first — all five of them. He started off being able to see farther than any normal human, but with some practice he could also “zoom in” like a camera lens, too. His sense of smell became steadily more acute, to the precision of one of those drug-sniffing dogs that were bought into the lab every so often to help check for potentially dangerous substances that were left unsecured… Perhaps he could do the job in their place when they weren’t available? And his sense of taste might have been improved too, seeing as it was linked to smell, though his coffee wasn’t any different in terms of flavor last he checked. His hearing was also more sensitive, and with practice he could adjust its precision to avoid being deafened by someone whispering in his ear, or to train it to hear mice a hundred yards away. What most concerned him, though, was his touch — his skin was more sensitive to pressure, temperature, and especially pain…

The third day saw the development of hyperactivity in his muscular nervous system. It came in small increments, but he would swear he moved a little faster, gripped his implements a little harder, and take longer to tire from strenuous activity, both physical and mental. He started to worry that he’d lose his capacity to feel emotions, but it seemed like this wasn’t the case — his affections for Clara didn’t cease. If anything, they became just a little more flirtatious…

The week after his fateful incident with the serum and his registration as Mind’s Eye, Zeaka got another call from a fellow teammate. Another robbery, at a different, affiliated lab this time. This time, 100 pounds of galaxite had been taken. It was believed to be used as an ingredient for a fiendish device meant to negate superpowers, as he had predicted during his earlier talk with Appleday.

He wasn’t sure what to do, until he broke the news to Appleday. The response he’d gotten surprised him.

“Our team agreed that you’ve gotta become a superhero, right? Well, you’ve gotta recover the galaxite.”

“Wha?! But you said it negates my—”

“Yeah, I know. But this is your chance to start proving your worth as a hero. We need to determine if you can do it without your powers, just in case the serum isn’t permanent. And we do have a masquerade to maintain, don’t we?”

He hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. “Whatever you say, Doc.”

“Oh, by the way, there should have been something in the mail from me this morning. You might want to check it out, since I feel like it could be of use to you at this point in time.”

“Uh…”

“Good luck out there! Oh, and note any effects the galaxite has on you. It’ll be worth adding them to our research, you hear?”

Click.

Zeaka made a discomfited sound, and then headed over to the front door. There was a surprisingly large package on the doorstep, though it was rather lightweight. It was not what was inside it which surprised him, but rather the fact that Appleday of all people would send such a thing.

That something was a purple and blue superhero uniform…

Street Urchin was having a ball. It was very, very thankful that her powers weren’t psychic, energy-based, or magical in nature, which meant that whomever would inevitably come to stop her crew, she’d have the advantage. To either side of the infernal device she stood in front of were two other supervillains, both of whom were looking at her expectantly. They could tell she had their cargo, and they had no intent of having it snatched from them this time.

To the left of the massive machine was a hulking reptilian creature, a huge prehistoric beast bedecked in brutal-looking, prodigiously spiked armor that was entirely black in color. Carnogore, as he was called, looked like he’d walked straight out of a 1950’s monster movie, with a diagonal spine, massive muscular legs with three-toed, bird-like, viciously clawed feet, and a long, muscular tail like a lizard or crocodile that dragged along the ground, but his chest and arms, while covered in scales, were human-like in shape, albeit massively muscular and with four-fingered hands textured like the feet of an eagle, bearing huge hook-like claws. His thick, S-curved neck bore a three-foot-long, boxy head that seemed to be divided in half by a terrible maw full of three-inch fangs, with demonic-looking horns over his reptilian yellow eyes, which had snake-like vertical slits for pupils. Beneath his armor, the eight-foot-tall predatory dinosaur was covered in scales which were a mottled blood-red with an orange underbelly, and sported coal-black claws and horns. Formerly a conquering warlord hailing from a prehistoric underground valley, Carnogore had ventured to Monumentropolis in search of bigger game to hunt… superheroes in particular.

To Urchin’s right, meanwhile, stood the White Wraith. His civilian identity, Warren Ridgeway, was only barely disguised by his skin-tight outfit, for his unkempt, dark brown hair, light brown eyes, and pale skin were clearly recognizable even with the snow-white spandex and winged domino mask on. The spandex had wide, flamboyant shoulder pads and a belt with a crotch guard, which were silver in color and seemed to shimmer in the dim light of the lair, as did his boots and gloves which were hued similarly. Next to Carnogore he looked outright ordinary, and wouldn’t even be here if Urchin hadn’t hand-picked him for one important talent of his — which the narrative won’t spoil for the time being, just to hold the reader for a while.

As for Urchin herself, she entered the dimly lit chamber in the abandoned port warehouse without a prideful gesture, just some exhausted panting and a sigh of relief.

“About time you returned,” Carnogore snarled in a deep baritone voice like a hissing growl, his scaly lips pulling back over his serrated teeth. “Judging from the smell you have on you, I take it you got the galaxite?”

“Yea, I got it.” Urchin smirked. “It’s in da truck out back. Wanna go grab it?”

The White Wraith shook his head. “I’ll go get it. Why don’t you come help out, Spikey?”

“It’s Street Urchin, ya twat. An’ go get it yourself, we’ve got work t’ do here.”

“But—”

Carnogore bared his fangs at the male superhuman who, despite being five-foot-eleven, only came up to the dinosaur’s chest. “You heard her. It’s only a hundred pounds of it, and we have a cart outside. Not that hard… Or are you just a juicy little sissy?” He licked his chops as if to emphasize the taunt.

“Alright, alright. Geez. I’ll do it on my own.” The White Wraith rolled his eyes and left the chamber. He walked out to the back of the building, unaware that his thoughts were being observed…

Stupid, lazy, good-for-nothin’... I’m the weakest one here and I have to carry the galaxite. Why me? I’m always being pushed around by those jerks, he thought to himself. White Wraith, truth be told, was the laziest one and therefore was the one that had to do most of the work around the hideout. Every time he was asked to do something, he would complain and fuss and try to make excuses. He preferred to stay in his room all day and play video games or watch TV. The only reason he even started this gig was because he needed the money. He was a rather greedy bastard when it came to cash and expensive things… If only getting his hands on them didn’t require having to lead the police on a wild goose chase every time.

What he didn’t know was that his thoughts were not unheard. Behind a stack of crates, a figure clad in light purple spandex was on the prowl.

There were three of them in there, and though the white-dressed twenty-one-year-old was apparently the most pathetic of the lot, at least from what his thoughts indicated, Zeaka would have to be careful regardless. The dinosaur was far more concerning, as was that same woman he’d run into earlier. Street Urchin. She was the reason he had these powers now. She was the reason he was here.

The conversation between Carnogore and Street Urchin drew his attention. Things weren’t looking good if they already had the galaxite…

“So, you sure this little plan of yours will work?” asked Carnogore. “The galaxite may do its job well enough, but it’ll also attract every do-gooder in the radius of a mile or two like a damn beacon. We must be sure we’re not being followed.”

“Want me to do a quick sweep to check things out?” Street Urchin asked with a confident air.

“Are you suggesting that the White Wraith isn’t good for that himself? He has that ability you mentioned to help with the job. Plus he’s already outside…”

“You’re right. I’ll let him deal with lookin’ around then.”

Silence. Then Carnogore growled like an upset alligator. Zeaka heard the swish of a tapering tail sweeping against the ground.

“You’ve just doomed us all, you know that? Bastard can’t be trusted to guard Monolith Tower without losing it…”

“But you’ve seen what he can do! If there’s anyone who’s good at sneakin’ around, it’s him. Besides, it’s not like he’s gonna lead anybody straight to us.”

Zeaka was distracted from the ensuing argument by the White Wraith putting the last of the galaxite onto a trolley and hauling it inside. “So… heavy…” he complained, panting slightly.

The gate opened, and Wraith pushed the trolley inside. Zeaka had only one chance; just before it swung shut, he darted inside after him.

The White Wraith stopped and stood up straight. “Who’s there? I can sense your presence, y’know…”

No response. Zeaka hid behind several barrels labeled “DANGER: RADIOACTIVE WASTE”, not daring to even breathe.

“Maybe it was nothing…” Wraith shrugged and continued towards a nearby elevator… blissfully unaware of the newly christened Mind’s Eye, whose outfit was surprisingly effective at hiding him in the dappled evening light inside the warehouse, tailing him in secret.

As soon as the elevator door opened, leading to the room with the machine, the White Wraith pushed the trolley into said room, which had a high-vaulted ceiling some fifty feet overhead. There was a balcony some thirty feet up feet with a door leading to the second floor hallways as well, which had a few more barrels with the radioactive waste label, but they were of little consequence for the time being.

The White Wraith groaned and stopped pushing the trolley once he’d reached the machine. “Yo! Spikey — I mean Street Urchin! I got it all. It’s all here on the trolley. Anything else I can do for you, Your Majesty?” the White Wraith asked sarcastically.

“Took you long enough, meatling,” growled Carnogore.

Urchin glared first at the dinosaur, and then at the white-dressed young man. “Just stay outta my way.”

Once again, Zeaka found himself with his back to the wall right next to a doorway, listening to the villains argue. This time, though, he was ready. And now he had a means of taking them down.

“Ya gonna help me or not, Carnie? I ain’t gonna do this on my own!” Urchin barked.

Carnogore stomped over to the trolley and picked up a ten-pound chunk of galaxite in his claws. “Are you sure this will work? It’s a bit much, considering how powerful this stuff is… For all we know, the machine will end up overloading if we put all of it in at once.”

“I ain’t gonna say that it’ll work, but I am confident. We could do a test run. Put only a little in and then add more as needed?” Urchin suggested.

White Wraith grinned like a fool, leaning coolly against the cart. “Of course it’ll work! As soon as the beam thing hits the satellite right above our city, it’ll send waves of galaxite energy back down and all of the superpowers in this town will be gone! No powers, all ordinary, and villains’ll be free to run around and do evil things as they wish… while we get stupidly rich on their rewards money. Hello fame and fortune, bye-bye superheroes!” He made a throat-slash gesture at that last bit.

Carnogore nodded, though judging from the way the corners of his lips were pulled slightly downward, he wasn’t optimistic.

And if anything, he was even less so when a purple-clad youth appeared on the second-floor balcony and cried, “ENOUGH!”

Three heads turned to face him. One with spines for hair, one with huge jaws lined with sharp teeth, and one with a white mask on. And that was when Zeaka realized that he’d messed up big-time. Again.

“I thought I smelled something spoiled,” muttered Carnogore, bearing a classically reptilian expression of exasperation.

Mind’s Eye gulped at the hard stares the three of them were giving him, but carried on. He was thankful that the helmet and ski goggles provided by his suit didn’t betray his expression of apprehension. His voice trembled a little at the next sentence, but then he started hitting his stride. “Evil-doers, y-you have no right t-to use that galaxite. That stuff is meant to help control superpowers, not shut them down entirely! So if you know what’s good for you, then put it back.” He crouched a little and punched his palm, trying to look fierce.

Street Urchin smirked. “A puny little guy like you, against us three? You won’t stand a chance, puta madre! Why even come after us when ya know yer gonna get yer butt whooped? Bettah prepare yerself, Runt!”

The White Wraith laughed. “Yeah! You’re a goner...whatever your name is! We’re gonna kick your ass!”

“I’m Mind’s Eye,” Zeaka shot back. “And you’re screwed!”

“Can I just bite his head off and be done with it?” asked Carnogore, rubbing the top of his snout with a clawed hand. Evidently, the taunt-fest was getting on his nerves.

“NO!” Wraith and Urchin yelled simultaneously.

“I wanna enjoy his torment!” added Urchin.

“Ten-four!” added the White Wraith.

Carnogore sulked indignantly. “You two are completely unreasonable, I swear…”

Zeaka wasted no time. Deciding that Carnogore was the strongest target and the most likely to give him a hard time, he leaped off the balcony, landed on his feet, and launched himself at the reptile with the intent to drive his fist into his ebony chestplate.

The dinosaur let out a roar of surprise as he hurtled across the air and slammed into the wall behind him, cracking it to pieces. He wasn’t deterred, though, and after standing up and shaking the rubble off of him, he roared with anger and charged, his maw agape.

Mind’s Eye dived to the side as Carnogore barreled past him, skidding to a halt before realizing that the man was making his way towards the cart full of galaxite…

Wraith smirked and tossed a piece of the glowing orange-yellow crystal to Carnogore. “Catch, Carnie!”

Zeaka prepared for another swing at Carnogore, but he was focusing on him with such intensity that he didn’t hear what Wraith had just said. So it was to his surprise that he found the dinosaur bringing the piece of crystal down onto his helmet. It was thanks to his headgear that he didn’t get his skull fractured.

Unfortunately, the effects of the crystal could be felt even with protective gear on.

Blinding pain shot through his head, and he felt his mind begin to falter. He missed his next swing, and Carnogore’s tail swipe sent him sprawling. Oh, right, he thought in frustration. I forgot it does that.

No time to regret his choices in life, though. Especially not with three angry supervillains closing in on him. He had to shut down the machine before it was too late.

Urchin aimed her arm at Mind’s Eye and fired a few spikes at him, hoping that they would hit their mark and paralyze the superhero. With a frightened yell, and the memory of the last time he’d gotten those needles in his ass fresh in his head, Zeaka rolled to the side and let them ping off the concrete floor harmlessly. As he recovered, the effects of the galaxite wore off, and all three villains’ thoughts rang through his head at once.

“Damn ya! Hold still so I can make a pincushion out of ya!” Urchin yelled in frustration as she continued to fire spikes in Mind’s Eye’s general direction. And then drag you back to Boss’s hideout and let ‘im brainwash ya to be his personal puppet, she added in her head.

Wraith, being the weakling he was, started throwing small chunks of galaxite towards Mind’s Eye, forcing him back for the moment. Yeah! Take this and this, loser! he thought. God, I love makin’ this dumbass dance like a loon. It’s lots o’ fun! Maybe I could get Urchin to give it a try…

Carnogore snorted and shook his head. I just hope we can make it out of this without our client’s plan going pear-shaped, he thought grimly. If this nutcase manages to screw us over, he’s gonna blow a fuse!

Zeaka’s head was throbbing. He had to stop the hail of galaxite from messing up his coordination! With no other option that didn’t result in him getting inevitably pummeled, he shot straight at the White Wraith, fists drawn…

And then White Wraith was gone. With a yell of indignation, Zeaka realized that he had suddenly turned invisible. Then he felt a tap on the shoulder. “Hello! I’m right here! Nope! I’m here!”

Swinging his fists and missing each time, Zeaka realized to his annoyance that his acute vision couldn’t track what he couldn’t see.

This continued for quite some time, with the frustrated Zeaka struggling to figure out who was where. And things only became worse for the budding hero when he felt his legs being swept out from under him by the White Wraith’s leg, just as Carnogore came up right behind him, his toothy jaws open wide…

CHOMP!

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCHHHHH!!!”

Readjusting his grip on his succulent prize with several more painful bites, Carnogore lifted Zeaka bodily into the air, struggling not to tip his head back and swallow him whole. Urchin at the least certainly wouldn’t want the man to get seriously hurt — just humiliated in public. The best course of action, therefore, was to haul him over to the front lot and throw him out, preferably as far away as he could.

“Aw heck wit’ it, just get the device runnin’!” Urchin shouted to the White Wraith.

“NOOOO!” screamed Zeaka, as he was effortlessly carried off and away from the infernal machine…

Carnogore threw the door to the warehouse open, and with one final snap of his jaws and a swing of his great head, he sent Zeaka sailing out into the night, screaming all the way. The terrible ripping noise accompanying this and the fact that the young hero’s bottom suddenly felt rather drafty could both be explained by the scrap of purple spandex being removed from the dinosaur’s teeth…

“AND STAY OUT!” he roared, before slamming the door shut.

Having tumbled head over heels onto the street beyond the warehouse, Zeaka groaned and rubbed his head; it was thankful that he had his helmet on or he’d have gotten more than just a nasty headache. And then he heard the machine powering up…

A beam of yellow-orange light shot up from the skylight of the warehouse. It lit up the sky, sending ripples of energy outwards like a pebble dropped onto calm pond water. Zeaka’s headache suddenly worsened, and he had to struggle to remain standing — a very bad sign, considering what he’d heard the White Wraith say earlier.

He ran back towards the door and struggled to pull it open, but his muscles failed him. The strength of a normal human couldn’t get the door open, and he was quite sure Carnogore had bolted it shut, too. Panic overwhelmed him upon realizing what the effect would have on the rest of the heroes throughout the district. He had to stop the machine — but how could he do it without his abilities?

That was when he remembered Dr. Appleday’s words over the phone. “This is your chance to start proving your worth as a hero. We need to determine if you can do it without your powers, just in case the serum isn’t permanent. And we do have a masquerade to maintain, don’t we?”

And he also remembered one other thing, something that made him smile with a thrill of hope.

The White Wraith had left the back door of the warehouse unlocked.

Urchin was messing with the controls on the machine, hoping that it would make the beam stronger. “Does this thing come with a manual or instructions? Ugh. I can’t figure out how to make the beam stronger. I want it to affect all superheroes in the state!”

The White Wraith rolled his eyes. “And you say that I complain too much...here let me try—”

“NO! I got it! Estúpido, I don’t wantcha touchin’ this! Ya might kill us or somethin’!”

Carnogore thumped his tail against the ground impatiently. “Just hurry up already, meatlings! We have places to go. And we need to let the ‘boss’ know of our success, too…”

“Call me a meatling one more time! I dare ya!” Urchin growled. “We can just call da boss, can’t we? I mean, that is what a phone is for! I just don’t know the boss’s numbah…”

The dinosaur bared his fangs with a menacing growl. “You didn’t write it down?! You’re supposed to write it down…”

“Wraith was supposed ta write it down! I told him ta do it and as usual, he didn’t do as I asked. Tonto del culo!”

“You didn’t tell me to write it down!”

Urchin slapped her forehead. “Huevón cabrón…”

Unbeknownst to the two of them, a purple-colored shadow with a hole in the seat of his pants had made it back to the second-floor balcony. The barrels labeled were still there, and as most of the safety railing had collapsed, it seemed like they could very easily be tipped over and rolled off the balcony.

Zeaka risked a peek over the railing. There were several wooden boards lying about, including a particularly large one that leaned over a stack of crates to form an incline. And a few pieces of galaxite were strewn all over the floor from the previous battle as well.

A plan started forming in his head. He’d have to take out both of the male villains, but if he could just get to the machine…

Down on the first floor, Street Urchin smirked as she continued fiddling with the machine. “Ah! I wonder if this lever will make it work better…”

“Just leave it the way it is, Spikey,” the White Wraith said, exacerbated. “We need to get going.”

“Finally, someone agrees with me,” muttered Carnogore.

“Shuddup, ya morons!” Urchin growled and aimed her spikes at Warren.

“Whoa, whoa. No need for that!” Warren cried, almost scared.

So preoccupied with their argument were the three baddies that none of them noticed one of the barrels tipping over onto its side, and then rolling off the balcony. That is, until it landed with a WHUMP on the sturdy wooden plank, and rolled onto the floor at tremendous speeds.

“AHH! Look out!!” the White Wraith screamed.

“What are ya— OH SHIT!” Urchin yelled out, mere moments before Carnogore rushed forth and pushed her out of harm’s way.

The first barrel smashed into the opposite wall and came to a stop, leaking glowing green fluid. The evildoers sighed in relief and resumed their usual business for a second or two… and then they heard the THUD of a second barrel hitting the plank.

The barrel rolled inexorably towards the two male villains. The White Wraith managed to get out of the way, but Carnogore wasn’t so lucky. The heavy barrel “tripped” over a piece of galaxite on the floor, sailed through the air, and slammed into his torso, plowing him into the nearest wall.

The barrel had also barely missed the machine. Urchin yelled out in fear as she started piecing together what was happening. “Hijo de puta! Watch the machine! Seriously!”

Zeaka didn’t pause to gloat, scanning the balcony for something else to use. He noticed a heavy metal box with a handle attached to it, and grabbed the handle to throw at the machine. But it was quite heavy, and he had to struggle a little to tug it…

A spine whizzed past his cheek, embedding itself in the wall. With a yell of surprise, he lost his balance and toppled off the balcony, hanging by the handle of the box — which was now starting to slide towards the edge.

What was more worrying was that his bottom was now at Carnogore’s eye level — which would be bad news if he hadn’t lodged him in the opposite wall. But there was one other critical issue…

Getting to her feet and scoping out the situation, Urchin smirked and took aim at Zeaka’s jiggling, rather plump-looking rear…

“Ya ready, Punk?” Urchin asked with a hint of giddiness in her voice.

“Oh NOOOO!” Zeaka howled with horrified realization.

POW-POINK-POINK-POINK-POINK-POINK!

“EEEEEEYYYYYYIIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWCCCCCHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!”

There are two things worth noting about Urchin’s abilities: The first is that she was capable of shooting her spines like darts, thanks to a pressurized firing mechanism at the base of each of them. The second was that these spines were all venomous, and though the toxins weren’t lethal, their effects were still no fun. She had a whole bunch of different poisons produced within her own half-human, half-urchin body, and she just so happened to have her quills currently set to one of the most agonizing neural irritants on the planet.

“AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!! MY POOR ASS!! AIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!” Zeaka shrieked like a madman, flailing about and clenching the handle of the box above him even tighter. The burning sensation in his ass seemed to make it swell a little, like a bee sting times a thousand, and then there was the fact that no less than five foot-long spines impaling his butt cheeks, two on the left and three on the right.

“GET ‘IM, BOYS!” cried Street Urchin. As if on cue, the White Wraith vanished, and then chunks of galaxite started floating and hurtling themselves at Zeaka as though an invisible something was picking them up and throwing them.

WHACK!

“YEEEEEEAAAAAAAAARRRRRGHHH!” A lucky shot had actually snapped one of the quills in half, thankfully leaving enough of it still poking out to pull free later but painfully nudging it all the same.

CANK-SHHK!

“AAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!” Another piece of galaxite had struck the tip of another spine, forcing it even deeper into his throbbing flesh!

Street Urchin smirked. “How’s it feel? That’s my supah painful neurotoxin. I call it ‘Mayor Pain’ and fer good reason. Yer ass’ll be sore for a week!”

“YOU’LL NEVER GET AWAY WITH THIS! OWWWIIIIEEEEE!” Poor Zeaka was just about to lose his mind, such was the intensity of the pain.

Then he heard it, the sound of footsteps getting closer as the White Wraith closed in on him, and he turned his head to see Carnogore struggling to push the barrel off of him, too. He had to act, right now. Straining as much as he could, Zeaka tugged the handle of the heavy box and pulled it down with what little strength he had left.

The White Wraith somehow thought that using the inclined board as a jumping ramp was a good idea, but he was proven wrong when the box hit the higher end as soon as he’d stepped on the lower one.

BD-D-D-D-D-D!

“AAAAAHHH!”

Zeaka had, by sheer luck and simple physics, actually managed to catapult the White Wraith screaming into the air, seeing as he had been dangling right over the board. Warren sailed across the room towards Carnogore, whose mouth dropped open in understandable shock; as a result, he comically landed bum-first in that enormous mouth, the dinosaur’s jaws instinctively biting down and sinking their teeth into his large, round, and delicious-looking ass.

SNAP!

“EEEEEEEYYYOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCH!!!!”

RIP! CRUNCH!

“OOOOWWWWWIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! HEEEEEELLLLP! HE’S BITING MY BOTTOM!”

“MMMMGMGGGMMPH!” Carnogore wanted to complain that it was the White Wraith’s bottom that was choking him, but alas, his maw was full.

“YOU ARE ALL USELESS! YEEEEEEAAAUUUURRRGH!! OH NONONO EEEEYOOOOWWWWWW!” the White Wraith screamed at the top of his lungs, having just turned invisible in blind panic… which resulted in Carnogore, mistakenly thinking that his mouth was empty, trying to close it and only sinking his fangs even deeper into the flesh of his companion’s rump.

“ME!? I’m useless!?” cried Street Urchin. “I am NOT useless, gilipollas! If anything, yer the ones who’re useless! I’m the only one who’s tryin’ ta do somethin’!”

“Don’t congratulate yourself just yet, Street Urchin!” Zeaka cracked his knuckles, his voice trembling from overwhelming agony. “Just you left, and then I’ve got a clear path to the machine!”

“Oh no ya don’t!” Street Urchin yelled and ran at Zeaka, throwing punches and shooting spikes at him. “Yer dead, Punk!”

Fighting through the incredible pain in his rump, and pulling out the spines in it, Zeaka dodged and weaved around the attacks of his foe as he made his way towards the elevator. He pressed the button frantically, and the door slid open to let him inside.

Unfortunately, it was not fast enough to shut out Street Urchin.

“Ready for more pain, Punk?” she asked, smiling maniacally as the door slid shut behind her.

“Will you just stop calling me that?!” Zeaka yelled, pulling the last of the spines out of his rear. He lunged at her, but she sidestepped and ended up behind him, crouched and ready.

“Naw, I like callin’ ya Punk!” She smirked and lashed out with both feet, knocking his legs out from under him. He staggered backwards, lost his balance, and toppled over.

Bottom-first.

Onto a full head of razor-sharp, venomous spines.

CRUNCH-SHINNNK!

His eyes nearly popped out of his head, his lungs filling up with a shocked gasp. And then his mouth opened wide...

“YYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCHHHHH!!!!!!!”

“AAAAACK! ¡Chingada madre! Get yer ass off of my head!!” Urchin yelled at him, shaking her head violently, causing the spines in his ass to dig even deeper into his flesh. So loud was Zeaka’s screaming that he barely noticed the elevator door opening, and so when he finally tugged free, dozens of spines sticking out of his bottom, he toppled out of the elevator… and onto the third and last barrel of toxic waste.

The barrel tipped over on its side, and as he fell flat on his face, his arm pushed it off the balcony. It landed on the raised end of the board, which bent and flexed due to the box weighing its other end down, before snapping back like a spring and sending the barrel hurtling towards the machine with tremendous force!

CRASH-GLOOOOOSH-HSSSSSSSSSS!!

Street Urchin looked over the balcony, and then shrieked in horror. “NOOOO! NO NO NOOOO! Boss is gonna kill us!”

Carnogore had managed to free himself and also pull the White Wraith out of his maw, spitting out the seat of the man’s spandex which had been torn to ribbons. They looked at the overloading device now being drenched in atomic fluid from the cracked-open barrel, and then at each other.

“Bro… we’re royally fucked…” the White Wraith whimpered. “Should we run or something…?”

For the first time that night, Carnogore looked genuinely frightened. “…Yes.”

All three villains fled screaming from the warehouse, Carnogore smashing a hole in the wall, the White Wraith skedaddling after him, and Street Urchin shot a few more spines at Zeaka before leaping off the balcony and running through the hole as well.

What she didn’t know was that in her panic, she had accidentally set her poison to a potent stimulant, which caused Zeaka to leap to his feet with a yell of pain. Oh god, the machine was about to blow! He had to escape with the galaxite, but how could he get it all out safely…?

Then his eyes fell upon a rather large burlap cloth. It was easily big enough to cover the entire cart…

Ten seconds later, the front door of the warehouse was smashed open by a purple-clad hero, who promptly dragged out a burlap-covered payload at the top speed of a Lamborghini. He was just in time, too.

For a mere second after he had fled, during which he had reached a distance of several miles away from the warehouse, the machine exploded like the end of the world, its orange beam sputtering out and a great fiery mushroom cloud rising into the night sky.

*****

The thick black smoke rising up into the evening sky could be seen for miles. There was no doubt that everyone for miles around would notice, especially in the wake of that horrible disturbance that had temporarily derived hundreds of people of their superhuman abilities. So it was that the three perpetrators were forced to slip off into the darkened back alleys, left with nothing but the clothes on their backs and the mortal fear of a very disappointed client.

“Puta madre! Gilipollas!! This is ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU MESSED UP! The boss won’t be happy, all because of YOU!” She sat down on a nearby bench and pulled the White Wraith over her knee. “Punishment time, you little dumbass!” She growled and smacked his ass as hard as she possibly could.

Wraith screamed in pure agony, flickering in and out of his invisibility uncontrollably as his already abused bottom was hit with alarming force.

SMACK!

“YEOW!”

CRACK!

“OUCH!”

WHACK!

“YEOWCH!”

Carnogore was watching all of this with his teeth bared in a scowl of disgust. He would swear he was still picking bits of white spandex out of his teeth. A moment later, he turned away from the other two, swishing his tail like an angered cat.

“You two are wasting my time,” he snarled. “I get it, you’re upset with him. I am too. But if we remain here, the human authorities of this city will catch up to us quickly.” He motioned with his head up towards the pillar of smoke. “If you want to beat him until he cries for his mother, at least do it while we’re safe and sound.”

“You’re right… Sorry, Carnie.” Urchin let the White Wraith up, glaring at him with understandable fury.

“And mayhap it’d be safest not to call me Carnie…” The dinosaur sniffed the air. “Police cars inbound, two miles away and counting. We’d best get going—”

“YOU BITCH! That really hurt!” Wraith yelled, rubbing his bruising bottom. “I won’t be able to sit for weeks now, because of you! Now I say we stick around and beat the shit out of the cops so I can take my anger out on someone!”

Carnogore snorted. “You have got to be shitting me…” he hissed under his breath. Before the other two could respond, he’d stomped off in the direction away from the warehouse. “Are you coming or not? Our client is expecting us, and we all have to be present or he’ll have all of our heads.”

Urchin growled. “So you wanna add assaulting a police officer to our charges?”

“We don’t HAVE any charges!” cried the White Wraith.

“Not yet but if we beat up the police, we’re bound to be arrested, you dumbass!”

“Oh, I’m the dumbass?”

“Yes, yes you are, Wraith.”

“You’ll be sorry for ever messing with the White Wraith!” He turned away and began to walk in the opposite direction of where Carnogore was going. That was a HUGE mistake.

“Seems like you’ll be the one who is sorry…” Urchin smirked and aimed a few spikes at the White Wraith’s exposed, bitten, and recently beaten buttocks…

POW-POINK-POINK-POINK-POINK-POINK!

“YYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWCH!” he wailed, jumping from one foot to the other as he cupped his butt in both hands, turning invisible and giving the impression of a half-dozen spines bobbing about in mid-air. “OUCH! YEOWCH! OOOOWWWWW!”

“Ha ha ahahahaha! Serves you right you little punkass bastard! You NEVER mess with Street Urchin!” She crossed her arms, smiling triumphantly.

The sound of a taloned foot stomping hard upon the ground cut both of them off. “Are you DONE?!” roared Carnogore.

It was only a moment later when the White Wraith reappeared, suddenly feeling dizzy. “Uhhh...I don’t feel so good… Urchin what did y—” He didn’t get the chance to finish what he was going to say as he immediately fell backwards, unconscious and driving the spines even deeper into his ass.

“Hmm… What a pity… I wanted to see what his reaction would be when he fell. Oh well…”

“Just wait ‘til he wakes up,” Carnogore sighed, before stalking over to pick up his fallen teammate, who was practically comatose thanks to half a dozen spines’ worth of tranquilizer. “If our client leaves a piece of his rear for you, that is. He definitely won’t be happy to hear of this…”

It was only a moment later when one very exasperated dinosaur warlord made his leave, the unconscious White Wraith — blissfully unaware of the sheer amount of agony which was due to hit him like a ton of bricks the second he woke up again — cradled in his claws, face-down and with his arms and legs dangling freely, the spines stuck in his bottom still visible but embedded very deeply.

Urchin smiled to herself as she followed. Ya know, she thought to herself, lookin’ at Wraith’s ass right now kinda reminds me… Fighting that superhero — What was his name? Oh yeah, Mind’s Eye — was actually a lotta fun. Perhaps his cute pudgy ass and my spines should get reacquainted sometime…

*****

“YEEEOWWW! OUCH OW OWWW!”

“Hold still, Zechariah! I need to get those spines out!”

In real time, it would only take ten minutes or so to remove all of those deadly spines from Zeaka’s prickled purple posterior. But to him it felt like forever. It was lucky that it was Clara doing the honors, though that wasn’t saying much.

He was lying face-down on a hospital bed, head and shoulders propped up on a pillow which he was hugging like his life depended on it. He was still in his superhero uniform, but his helmet had been removed, so his handsome face, albeit with mussed-up hair and cheeks red and slick with tears, was quite visible to anyone who entered the hospital wing.

Such as a certain brunette bespectacled scientist, along with a nurse with dark hair in a bun.

“There you are, Mr. Fitchus!” said Dr. Appleday. “I received word that you’d been bought in—”

“Ah… Well, he was found unconscious in the middle of the street next to a burning building. There was a cart filled with this weird looking crystal that glowed a bit and the poor thing had at least a dozen foot-long porcupine quills stuck in his bottom…” Clara informed Appleday of all of this with a look of sympathetic concern. Zeaka… When we get out of here, how about a massage and some tea? she wondered. Perhaps a nice long soak in a bath as well?

“Add a couple of ice packs and you have a deal,” Zeaka replied. “I can hear your thoughts again, you know.”

Clara glared and roughly pulled out another quill.

“EEEYOOOUUCH! NOT THAT HARD, HOLY SHIT!!” Zeaka yelled, clutching his pillow a little tighter.

His girlfriend was undeterred. “You had me worried sick, you know! You could have called me to let me know where you were before you went to fight! You jerk!” She pulled out another spine, glaring menacingly at Zeaka.

“AIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!”

“Ah… Foot-long quills, you say?” Appleday raised an eyebrow. “Well… I wish I could say that something like that is surprising, but it actually isn’t. That woman with the spiky hair was the one who broke into our research lab.” And she knew about Mind’s Eye as well… Was there anyone in the lab who told her, or were we hacked…?

“Ah yes, the Osthanes Research Institute.” Nina looked understandably concerned. “You’d be surprised how often that place gets raided.” I’m not, though, for obvious reasons. But what was with the bite marks?

“There were two other villains with her,” replied Zeaka. “A big meat-eating dinosaur and this guy who could turn invisible… They gave me a lot of trouble, as you can sEEEYOWWW!”

Clara had yanked out yet another spine, and there were still a few more to go. “Stop being a baby, Zechariah! Serves you right for worrying me!” Okay… Maybe a little too much… Sorry, sweetheart…

“‘Salright,” Zeaka groaned. “I deserve it for running off without letting anyone know.”

“You had good reason to, though.” Appleday looked downcast. Should I tell the others about what we’re developing?

“But he’s MY BOYFRIEND. He should AT LEAST tell ME where he’s going! For all I know, he could have been with another woman!” At the thought of this, Clara pulled out two spines simultaneously.

“EEEYYYAAAAAAAHHHHH!” Zeaka howled and pounded his hand against the bed.

…I should probably tell them. Appleday’s expression was grim.

“Tell us what now?” asked Zeaka.

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Is everything alright?” Clara asked. “Should I be worried about something? because I’m worrying… Like he said, tell us what, exactly? Is it about Zeaka or something?” Clara pulled out another spine as she looked up at Appleday.

“GAAAAH!!” Zeaka realized that there was no backing out of this, and though blinded by tears of pain, he looked at his superior expectantly. So did Nina, come to think of it.

“Don’t keep me waiting! I have work to do!” Clara cried out impatiently.

Appleday pinched the bridge or his nose and sighed. “Very well… Miss Clara, Miss Curandera… You two have to promise that you can keep this a secret. If you tell anyone, there will be… consequences.”

The two women nodded, silently waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The doctor took a deep breath. “We have been working on an experimental serum called Mind’s Eye. Upon release, it’s meant to accelerate nervous system activity and hopefully combat Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s, even brain cancer… It seems though that what we have now has resulted in some… interesting side-effects. Mr. Fitchus has been our, uh, ‘beta tester’ since his… unfortunate accident with the serum, and has been documenting the effects of the serum on the human body. Speaking of which, do you have the report, Zeaka?”

“Not yet, but I’ll see if I can hit the high points when I get back to Clara’s,” Zeaka replied. “Seeing as I was screaming and crying too much to take any notes at the time…”

Clara sighed and pulled out the second to last spine. “So my boyfriend… is a superhero because of this serum…? Why was I not told about this sooner? I mean I get that it was a secret, but I am his significant other, so I feel like I should have had a heads up…”

Nina finally spoke up. “There’s a reason a great many projects at this institute have remained under wraps, Ms. Bellmore. The underworld of Monumentropolis has many eyes, and if word gets out of anything valuable, anything, chances are someone will want it for their own ends. By withholding information about the project, Mr. Fitchus was basically minimizing the risk of collateral.”

Zeaka had just about gone hoarse from his screams. Gasping and panting, he looked at the others. “Collateral? COLLATERAL?! For the love of — She’s my girlfriend! She’s right, I made her worry because of — of all this. My powers, my new responsibilities, everything!”

“But me knowing all of this now… Doesn’t that put me in danger?” Clara asked.

“Exactly!”

Appleday nodded gravely. “Yes, you are now a target due to this knowledge, but if it helps, you have Zeaka to protect you.” He patted Zeaka’s butt, as it was the only thing within his reach.

“GAAAH!” Zeaka winced and cried out in sudden pain. “Not that hard!!”

Clara smiled softly. “I suppose you are right. I have my own personal bodyguard now.” Clara leaned over and kissed Zeaka deeply.

He blushed a little, but the pain of that one remaining spine in there was distracting him. As was one other thought…

He disengaged from her, and motioned his head towards his bottom. And then he turned to the other two. “How did Street Urchin know about Mind’s Eye, though?”

“As Nina said, the underworld has many eyes. We cannot know for sure how she knew about Mind’s Eye. That is something that we will have to investigate.” Appleday bore a slight look of worry. “We must be extremely careful now. More villains could target Mind’s Eye, both the serum and the superhero.”

“Wait, superhero?” asked Zeaka, his eyes widening. “You mean you want me to keep up the whole act with the costume? Look at it! I don’t know how much it cost but it got ruined now thanks to that stupid mission and that stupid galaxite getting me into troublEEEEYYYYOOOUUUCH!”

Clara smiled, having pulled out the last spine. “Luckily for you, I know how to sew.”

“Actually, Zeaka, about that…” Appleday smiled brightly, though Zeaka could read the apologetic thoughts in his head clear as day. “I suppose some congratulations are in order. I could have sent any superhero to fetch the galaxite, but you did it with your wits alone.”

Zeaka rolled his eyes. “I should’ve known.”

“I know, I know. You have every right to be annoyed with me for it. But even though you ran into a few setbacks in the process—” he flinched upon seeing the sorry state of Zeaka’s bottom — “you did succeed in retrieving the galaxite, without needing your powers at all. That takes guts and improvisation skills not many first-time heroes have. So would you really quit now that you’ve made it this far?”

Nina scowled. “You seriously think he’s cut out for this as he is now? He blanketed half the industrial district with a fog of radioactive smoke!” Thank god it got blown into the junkyard, at least, she added. Though I’m not sure if waste management would appreciate a bunch of giant mutant rats running around.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Zeaka replied, feeling sullen. “It was an accident…”

“It was your first time,” replied Appleday. Though if you do irradiate any neighborhoods, then don’t bother coming back to work the day after.

That thought made Zeaka even less optimistic.

“Miss Clara could be in danger,” Appleday continued. “Would you really stop after I just told her our lab’s biggest secret? You must protect her as well as the serum and our lab. For everyone’s sake.”

Nina nodded gravely. “My guess is that there isn’t much of a choice now. At least the media attention has been successfully diverted by the warehouse explosion.”

“And Zeaka is alive… All is well… Right?” Clara gently rubbed Zeaka’s injured bottom, kissing his forehead as she did so.

“Not until we figure out who hacked into the lab database,” replied Appleday. “For now, leave that to me. I’m sure I can track down who did it. Once Zeaka is all healed up, we can send him out on a bunch of other missions, just to keep up appearances, and hope for the best. In the meantime, I’ll leave you two to talk, while I sort things out with Nina. Have a good evening… well, as good as you can, I suppose.”

“I have a few things to discuss with Dr. Appleday myself,” added Nina. “Including, if I may, a certain unpleasant discovery involving the apartment of one of the most famous rubber-hose actors from the 1950’s and his secret stash of a very dubious bodily fluid…”

After a collective shudder from all concerned and a final thanks, Clara and Zeaka watched him leave the ward.

Clara was starting to clean Zeaka’s wounded butt with a cotton ball soaked in a burning, stinging iodine solution. “I’m sure you guys will find this person or team of people. Then everything will go back to normal,” she said as she planted more kisses to Zeaka’s forehead and cheeks.

Zeaka was in no state to reply at the moment — he was, after all, currently occupied with making high-pitched whimpering noises — but he was never more glad to hear all this. Or feel his lover’s kisses, for that matter.

It was a few long minutes before Clara finished up with wrapping Zeaka’s poor bottom in gauze bandages. She sighed and wiped her brow as her work was finally done. She patted his now bandaged butt subconsciously. “My poor sweetheart… Let’s get you some ice now. But first…” She pulled him out of bed and over her knee. “You, Zechariah, were extremely reckless! Blowing up a building, starting a fire, NOT TELLING ME WHERE YOU WERE!? Now that we’re alone and you have those spines out of your ass, I can finally do this…” She raised her hand and gave his abused rump a hard slap.

“AAAAARRRGGGGGHHH!”

“You idiot!” she slapped his ass again.

“YEEEEEEOOOOOWWWWWWW!!”

“NEVER worry me like that again!” she yelled before slapping him once more.

“WHYYYYYYYYYY?!?”

Clara took the rest of her frustration out on Zeaka’s poor backside for a good two minutes more. But once she was finally done, she let him get back to his feet, and held him tightly. “Zeaka… I think I love you.” And you don’t need to read my mind to know that, he heard her think. She smiled and wiped away his tears, and then kissed him deeper than she ever had before.

Zeaka disengaged for only a moment. “I guess it’s true what they say… You only hurt the ones you love.”

Clara snorted a little, and then started laughing. “Come here, you beautiful stupid superhero!”

She smiled and kissed him again. And needless to say, he was all too eager to return the favor.

It was, all in all, a rather exciting week for Zeaka Fitchus. But eventually, he would look back at this turn of events with nostalgic fondness — for thanks to it, he now had a new lease on life… as MIND’S EYE!