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Justicar Chapter 28: Aftermath
🕑 Added 2022-10-26 05:21:34 +0000 UTCLucien stared down at Constantine’s corpse with a kind of muted horror. He could feel a part of himself wanting to scream, both in rage and in pain, at having taken a life. Constantine had been evil, yes. He had been a creature of pure and undiluted villainy, but he had not had to die. He could have surrendered. There were a dozen different things Lucien could have done to stop his attack. He could have used his ocular lasers to destroy the guns, or used his speed to stop the bullets and sweep away the guns, or hit the priest to break his concentration.
Instead he’d killed him, acting on an instinct and impulse he wasn’t even aware had been lurking inside of him. He heard commanding voices demanding calm, detected the presence of people around him as the kitted-up officers and EMTs saw to the injured members of the crowd and Eventide. A pair of first responders approached him with first aid boxes and he waved them away without looking at them, not having the presence of mind to note how quickly they obeyed his dismissal.
Constantine’s corpse almost seemed to be mocking him, the odd-angled bend of the cultist’s neck doing nothing to suppress the rictus grin on his lifeless features. “I win” he’d said as Lucien killed him, and an inkling of comprehension as to what he’d meant was already forming. He had lost the fight in the physical, but the dark preacher’s presence had set up a nest within the depths of his psyche — and Lucien could do nothing to evict him. Not now.
The sound of rustling fabric and boots touching asphalt drew Lucien’s attention and he turned on the spot, his eyes sweeping the area before alighting on the neutral features of Alannah Warman: Tempest, the Maiden of Might. Police officers backed up suddenly as a voice he recognised as belonging to Selena Grant marshalled them away. The apologetic look she threw him was brief; he appreciated it regardless. The same pervasive sense of calm stayed with him as he met Alannah’s silver eyes, and he saw them widen slightly at the same moment as the fire in his veins pulsed in warning.
I’m running out of time.
Whatever had happened to grant him the amazing enhancements he’d received was fading. He could feel it. Like a candle that had roared fierce and bright, his wick was nearing its end. He couldn’t afford a protracted battle with Tempest of all people, and something told him that the result may not be in his favour regardless. He had handled Constantine easily enough with his enhancements, but Constantine had not been able to fly; and his capacities for duelling were far below those of the Lady of the Azure Skies.
“Aquila, I presume.” She said without overt hostility as she folded her arms under her bust. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“Tempest.” He responded cordially as he shifted properly to face her, scanning her carefully for signs of action. “I don’t know if I can say I share the sentiment.” The fanboy teenager in him was simultaneously laughing hysterically and freaking out in terror, understanding the gravity of his reality. Tempest of the god damn Golden League was talking to him as if he were… not quite an equal, but definitely not an enemy.
“Lucien, you need to get out of there.” Ty said in his ear insistently. “Someone’s livestreaming everything and mom and dad are losing their fucking minds. You need to leave.”
“You should listen to your friend.” Alannah said after Tiberius spoke, eliciting a wheeze from Ty in his ear and drawing a sigh of realisation from Lucien. Superhearing. Of course.
“You aren’t going to stop me?” Lucien challenged despite his waning powers, not fully believing she’d just let him go. “I thought Hyperion wanted to capture me.”
“Hyperion has his agenda.” Alannah said with what Lucien almost thought might have been bitterness. “I have mine. Let me be clear: I won’t stop you leaving, but I won’t let you get away either. You and I need to have a long talk.”
“No offense, but I’m not really too inclined to the idea of that.” Lucien responded with a tight smile.
“I suspected you wouldn’t be.” Alannah allowed. “That doesn’t change the fact it has to happen. You fly off, I follow, and we go hypersonic before anyone can think to pursue us with cameras.” She gestured around the area. “I assume you live locally. Head towards Second District and loop around. I’ll follow you home.”
“If you think I’m going to let you go after my family—!” Lucien started sternly.
“Your family will be under no threat from me, Lucien.” She said his name softly enough that only his enhanced hearing would detect it. “I swear that in Olympus’ name.”
Lucien hesitated still, but the power within him throbbed more insistently and he knew he was out of options. He sighed, the strange calm subduing his more volatile teenage emotions fraying just slightly. He could feel himself starting to slip towards the loss of his powers. “Fine.” He said with a groan from Tiberius. “Fine, but you can’t just show up at my place dressed like that.”
“That won’t be an issue.” She assured him without elaboration.
“Dude, are you sure about this?” Ty asked him urgently. “I don’t want you captured, but mom and dad…”
“It’s alright, Ty.” Lucien said back quietly, though he knew Alannah could hear him. “I can’t really explain it, but I know we can trust her word. Just trust me, okay?”
A long silence followed, and his best friend sighed. “I do trust you. Alright, I’ll warn the parentals. See you soon.”
Lucien glanced down at Constantine one more time, the distant sickness of what he’d done twisting his gut again, before he tore his eyes away and summoned his abilities of flight again. The familiar memories and panic were there, but muted behind the fading wall of calm focus. He bent his knees and launched into the air a second later, staggering some of the people nearby as he rocketed off the ground and poured on the speed with an instant shattering of the sound barrier. Flying felt like nothing he’d ever experienced before, like freedom in the truest and most intense meaning of the word.
He forced himself to focus on the moment, and not on the slow-build of panic for what was to come after. His velocity increased rapidly, and New Avalon turned into a rapidly passing collage of lights beneath him, sweeping past his vision as his speed took him across it at a pace he never could have imagined himself capable of. He knew he’d lose the ability to experience such a thing again, at least for some time, once the events of the night reached their predicted conclusion — so he soaked it in for as long as he could.
The moment he spotted Second High, pleased that his ability to discern details and buildings was unimpeded by his acceleration, Lucien banked sharply and his mind mapped out the exact route he needed to approach Eastport. He spiraled through the air, arms extended as he laughed into the uncaring wind and reveled in the freedom of flight. He knew in his heart that he would never give up the feeling he’d acquired in those moments of freedom. On Earth he was just another kid, no matter what costume he wore. In the heavens, however, he truly felt like the son of Olympus — and the connection to his father was something he never wanted to lose.
The towering buildings and neatly ordered neon-lit streets gave way to open roads and beachside residences as Lucien crossed from First District proper into Eastport, cutting his velocity sharply as he came down with a subtle discharge of air across the ground; right fist to the concrete, left arm extended and his muted impact braced on a single bent knee. Superhero landing. A stupid grin lit his face as he internally celebrated what he’d done, momentarily forgetting the events of the night.
Lucien lifted his gaze to the double-doors at the front of the house and made his way towards them, glancing back at the prickle of his senses that told him someone else had arrived. At first he was confused. The new arrival wore a black leather jacket cut for a woman, with a long-sleeve shirt with the word ‘fierce’ written in block white letters across the chest. Her near-black jeans were fashionably ripped at the knees and she wore a pair of canvas lace-ups sporting a trendy blue-and-black color with white laces.
Only when he looked beyond the ‘corporate chic’ pair of glasses and casual ponytail did he realize he was staring at Tempest. “Woah.” He said with a rapid blink of his eyes. “I would literally never recognise you in public.” Alannah Warman was one of the most recognisable women on the planet, but in that moment, Lucien could have mistaken her for a reasonably attractive final year college student.
“That is the idea.” The world’s greatest female superhero replied with a hint of amusement.
Lucien shook his head in wonder and turned back to the double doors, lifting his hand to grab them — only for them to open of their own volition a second before he had the chance to. Vanessa Washington stood in the entryway, her brilliant green eyes taking a moment to sweep over Lucien with a mother’s concern before she instead looked towards the approaching figure of Alannah. If being in the presence of one of the three most literally and symbolically powerful people on the planet phased her, Lucien’s godmother didn’t show it.
Instead she swept Lucien into a fierce hug, and patted the areas of his torso and arm that had been torn up by Constantine’s rods. “Are you alright?” She fussed, her eyes tight with worry.
“I’m fine, Auntie V.” He responded as lightly as he could, gently pushing her arms down. “Really fine. I, uh, have a guest though.” He nodded over his shoulder and Vanessa followed his gaze. “I hope that’s okay.”
“It’ll be fine, Lucien.” Vanessa said as she faced Alannah. “Tiberius told us everything.”
He nodded and turned to make introductions, but his godmother beat him to the punch.
“Alannah.” Vanessa said with a familiarity that stunned Lucien. “It’s been a while.”
“Vanessa.” Alannah responded cordially while causing Lucien’s eyes to pop in shock. “Now things are starting to make sense. I apologize for dropping in unannounced, but circumstances being what they are…”
“I understand.” Vanessa said with an edge to her voice, and Lucien winced to hear the clear worry and ‘mom-mode’ tone to her voice. “Both of you come in before the neighbors see.”
While he doubted their neighbors would be taking the effort to spy around the hedges and fencing that separated the massive properties from one another, Lucien acquiesced with docility to his godmother’s request and stepped over the threshold and into the place he called home. His footsteps carried him to the living room and he saw Leonidas and Tiberius standing together, the younger man a mirror of his father with the look of tight concern on both their faces. When Lucien entered, his godbrother and godfather moved in the same instant to approach him.
“Are you alright?” Leonidas asked immediately, placing a steadying hand on his right shoulder. “You looked… Well, for a moment there things looked bad son.”
“Yeah, Uncle Leo. I’m okay.”
“Dude, did Tempest…?” Tiberius trailed off as his mother and Alannah entered the living room ahead of the front doors shutting themselves, and he saw his best friend pale. “Holy shit.” Ty muttered, gripping Lucien’s shoulder. “Dude. Dude.”
“Hello, Leonidas.” Alannah said with a courteous smile. “The years have been kind to you, it seems.”
Tiberius’ eyes bugged out much as Lucien’s had done at the greeting, and he looked downright offended when his father replied. “To you as well, Alannah. You look no different to what I remember, save perhaps for the glasses.”
“Necessity.” She replied with a casual shrug.
“Let’s all have a seat.” Vanessa said as she looked at Ty and Lucien. “I think the boys are about to have a conniption.”
“Ah.” Alannah said as she followed Vanessa’s gaze. “That must be your son, Tiberius.” She smiled at Ty, who waved at her mechanically. “He looks just like you, Leonidas.” The older man chuckled and motioned for Alannah to sit, which the entire group took as a sign to do the same.
The moment Lucien turned to do so, however, he staggered.
Time’s up.
The thought crashed into him at the same moment as all the emotions he’d been suppressing hit him like a freight train. He felt his body weaken, felt the immense power that had filled him drain away and leave him weak — and as the memories and panic and adrenaline of the night caught up to him; Lucien stumbled past the alarmed voices of his godparents and Tiberius to vomit into the kitchen sink.
Tiberius was the first to approach him, seemingly by silent agreement between all present. He was vaguely aware of Alannah standing and watching him with his godparents, though he couldn’t bring himself to focus on her enough to tell what her expression was. Instead his mind was focused on the tumult of emotions and nausea-inducing memories swelling within him. Panic long-suppressed from his traumatic memories of manifestation, dulled partially thanks to his mental journey in the fight with Constantine, but still impactful.
There were the after-effects of his massive surges of adrenaline, seemingly amplified by his enhanced physiology. The shakes and spasms along his body told him that it still remembered the damage it had suffered, even if his supercharged healing factor had corrected it. Perhaps the most prevalent element of his mental duress, however, was remembering the sight of Constantine dead at his feet. He’d been exposed to death thanks to the nature of the world they lived in, and he’d seen more than a few injuries thanks to the graphic news coverage of the more brutal metahuman conflicts.
He’d never killed before, though.
The reality of what he’d done ate at him like nothing else he’d ever experienced. The macabre rictus of Constantine’s smile was seared into his mind. Every time he blinked to try to clear his disorientation, the image flashed in the darkness behind his eyelids. His stomach turned at the memory of the cartilage and bone snapping under his grip and he leaned forwards to vomit noisily again.
“I killed him Ty.” Lucien said in rasp. “I killed him.”
“I know.” Tiberius said quietly, placing his right hand firmly on his back. “I know, man. I was the one who pushed you, if I hadn’t rushed you to stop him…”
“You didn’t… Didn’t make me break his n-neeerrggh—!” Lucien cut off as he threw up again, blowing his nose to clear it and splashing the running water over his face to clean it of any remnant particles as he gasped for air. “I’m sorry. I c-can’t stop.”
“It’s fine, dude. Get it out. No one’s judging you.” Tiberius reassured him.
Lucien flashed his godbrother a grateful smile, and then turned and threw up again.
