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Chapter 8: Gamma Jack
🕑 Added 2025-09-10 22:58:48 +0000 UTC"They're not moving," Yuls whispered, her eyes fixed on the deserted street below. They had been on the roof for almost an hour, and the night's chill was beginning to cut through her suit.
"Patience," Jack's voice replied in her earpiece, with clear amusement in his tone. "Guys like Fractal can't resist a dramatic entrance. He loves the theatrics."
"My heart is going to pound out of my chest," she admitted, rubbing her hands together. "Is this normal?"
"Use it. Adrenaline is your friend," Jack said, his silhouette barely visible a few feet away. "It keeps you sharp. Just don't let it control you. Breathe, Apogee. Focus on the target."
Yuls nodded, though she knew he couldn't see her in the dark. She closed her eyes for a second, inhaling the cool night air. The target. Marcus Vermonth. A big shot in finance who, according to Jack, had attracted the wrong kind of attention. This was real. This wasn't a simulation in the attic. Down in that mansion, there was a family depending on them.
"Jack, are those…?" she started to say, but trailed off. Yes, they were.
Three black vans moved down the street with no lights on, predatory and silent. They stopped in perfect sync in front of the property. The doors slid open and a dozen men dressed in black jumped onto the asphalt. They moved with an efficiency that chilled her blood, the discipline of ex-military men. And leading them, was him.
Fractal. He was taller than he looked in the photos, and the silver mask he wore reflected the moonlight, erasing any human features. He walked with an arrogance that painfully reminded her of Jack's, the confidence of someone who believes the world belongs to him.
He raised a hand toward the high concrete wall surrounding the property. The gray surface seemed to ripple for a second, before becoming a smooth, glossy surface with a polished black sheen. His men took out ropes with magnetic hooks. With a metallic clack, they attached to the new surface. Effortlessly, they slid over the frictionless wall, landing on the lawn on the other side with a predatory silence.
"What a show-off," Jack muttered, the disdain in his voice palpable. "He could have just made a hole. Or just knocked it down. But no, he has to put on a show. A thug's job with fireworks."
He turned to Yuls, and though she couldn't see his face, she could feel his confident smile.
"Alright, Apogee. It's showtime."
He jumped off the roof.
Yuls held her breath, a scream caught in her throat. But he didn't fall. He just stopped in mid-air, held by a force that defied all logic, before descending gently toward the mansion's gardens. He landed without a sound.
"Clear. The garden is empty," his voice came through the earpiece. "All yours, Apogee. No pressure."
The sarcasm in his tone almost made her smile. Almost. She took a deep breath. She looked at the moon, a thin crescent in the dark sky. She felt its faint pull, the energy that flowed through the universe, the same energy that now answered her. She focused. Like in the attic. But higher. Much higher.
And she jumped.
For a terrifying instant, there was only the fall. The wind whistled in her ears and her stomach dropped. But then the power answered her call, catching her, slowing her descent. It wasn't elegant like Jack's. It was more of a slow-motion fall, a controlled and somewhat clumsy landing that left her trembling but on her feet on the mansion's lawn, a few feet from him.
"A little rough, but in one piece," Jack commented. "Not bad for your first time. Now, stay focused."
At that exact moment, the night was shattered. The mansion's alarm began to blare, a high-pitched, insistent shriek that cut through the silence. Seconds later, they heard the sound of breaking glass.
"They're inside," Jack's voice said, losing all its lightness and becoming sharp. "Go for Vermonth. His room is on the second floor, at the end of the west wing. I saw it on the house plans you downloaded. I'll handle the welcome party."
Apogee nodded again, a useless gesture, and ran. Her body felt light, the adrenaline had dispelled all traces of fear. She found a broken glass door leading to a courtyard and slipped inside.
Chaos greeted her. In the grand foyer, two of Fractal's men were dragging a man down the main staircase. He was wearing silk pajamas and his face was pale with terror. Marcus Vermonth.
"Leave him alone!" she shouted. Her voice, filtered through the modulator Jack had installed in her mask, sounded strange, almost robotic, but firm.
The two men turned, genuine surprise on their masked faces. They weren't expecting her.
"What the hell…?" one said.
"It's a kid! Shoot her!" the other yelled, raising his automatic rifle.
They both aimed. Apogee held out a hand. She didn't try anything complex, like ripping the weapons from their hands. That required a finesse she didn't yet possess. Instead, she did something cruder, more direct. She focused on the air directly in front of their rifle barrels, a space barely six feet wide. She compacted the molecules, increasing their density and gravity until it became an invisible wall, but with an impenetrable solidity.
The rifles spat fire. The bullets shot out and stopped dead in the air, before falling to the marble floor with a sharp, metallic clatter.
The men stared at her, stunned, their eyes wide above their ski masks. One of them lowered his weapon slightly. "My bullets… where are they?" They didn't understand what had just happened.
Apogee took advantage of their confusion. Her focus shifted to Marcus Vermonth. She lightened his body mass, reducing his weight until he was less than a child. With a tug of her power, she ripped him from his captors' arms and lifted him into the air effortlessly. He floated for a second before she gently drew him toward her, landing beside him with a stumble.
"Who… what…?" Marcus stammered, looking at his masked savior with a mix of panic and awe. "They're going to kill me!"
"No time," she said, grabbing his arm. "We have to get out of here. Move! Now!" She pushed him toward the broken door she had entered through.
Meanwhile, in the main living room, Jack was confronting Fractal. The villain stood by a marble fireplace as his men secured the ground floor, knocking over vases and searching rooms with brutal efficiency.
"You've got to be kidding me," Jack said, slowly circling his opponent. His tone was one of pure, absolute boredom. "Kidnappings? Ransoms? It's so… vulgar. You have a gift, a power that makes you special, and you use it to be a high-priced thief."
"You talk about vision, but you only serve yourself!" Fractal spat, his voice echoing metallically through his mask. "You're a fraud with a god complex!"
With a sharp gesture, Fractal aimed at the floor. The polished marble under Jack's feet instantly became a frictionless surface, slicker than wet ice.
"Let's see you float without a floor!" Fractal growled.
Jack, however, didn't slip. He simply rose a few inches into the air, looking down at him with an expression of profound disappointment.
"That's where you're wrong," Jack said. "I have a vision. A purpose. You just have debts, I assume. Cute trick, by the way. Did you learn it at a birthday party?"
Jack attacked with a pulse of invisible concussive force. The air in the room vibrated violently, a dull, powerful pulse. Fractal raised both hands. A sheet of marble lifted from the floor, forming a makeshift shield. Jack didn't wait. He sent another invisible pulse. The air vibrated and the shield shattered into four nearly identical fragments. The shockwave hit two of Fractal's men who were peering out from the hallway, sending them flying.
"Your boys have insurance?" Jack asked without looking at them, taking another step forward without touching the ground.
Fractal didn't answer. He moved his arm toward the ceiling and the plaster moldings creaked. A crack opened above Jack's head, but he held it with a gesture, as if placing an invisible support. He didn't break a sweat.
"You know what bothers me about you," Jack said, approaching slowly. "Not your power. Not your silver mask. It's your lack of ambition."
With a flick of his arm, Fractal threw the piano at him. The massive instrument flew six feet and stopped dead in front of Jack, suspended in mid-air. With a push of his palm, Jack sent it crashing against the wall. It splintered with a deafening crash of broken strings and shattered wood.
"That it?" Jack said. "Or do you have something new?"
Fractal took half a step back and tried to liquefy the floor right under Jack to swallow him. Jack simply rose another inch. The effect passed harmlessly beneath him.
"Last chance," Jack said, and lunged.
He grabbed him by the neck with his left hand. Fractal tried to sink into the floor, and Jack let him—down to his knees. Then, with a precise gesture, he fixed the marble again. The material hardened around Fractal's legs, trapping him.
"There," Jack said, adjusting his gloves. "You'll wait here until the police arrive. And you'll tell everyone who'll listen that the days for people like you in my city are over. Consider this a lesson in style."
When the police and the media arrived, drawn by the alarm and the frantic calls from neighbors, they found a scene that defied explanation. Fractal and his men were immobilized, waiting to be arrested. Some were stuck to the walls, their suits fused with the wallpaper. Others, like their leader, were trapped in the floor. And at the main entrance of the mansion, Gamma Jack and a new, mysterious female figure stood impassively while a grateful Marcus Vermonth spoke to the first officers on the scene.
The photographers' flashes erupted in a blinding volley.
"Gamma Jack! Who is she?"
"Was this a kidnapping attempt?"
"Look over here, please!"
Sarah Vance, who had arrived with her news crew in record time, pushed through the crowd.
"Gamma Jack," she said, her voice professional but with an unmistakable touch of awe. "Can you explain what happened here? And who is your new partner?"
Jack smiled, a million-dollar smile designed for the cameras. He looked at Apogee, who was standing beside him, vibrating with a mix of adrenaline and euphoria. In a spectacular and perfectly choreographed move, he swept her up into his arms, lifting her as if she weighed nothing.
"What happened is we cleaned up the city, Sarah!" Jack exclaimed, his voice resonating with an authority that silenced the crowd. "There's a new class of criminal in this city, but there's also a new class of hero! I present to you, Apogee! She represents the future! A future where criminals have nowhere to hide!"
The crowd of journalists and onlookers erupted in applause and cheers. Apogee, in Jack's arms, felt like she was truly floating, and it wasn't because of her powers. Hidden behind her mask, her cheeks were bright red. They had done it. They were heroes.
Jack gently set her down. At that moment, Marcus Vermonth approached them, tears of gratitude in his eyes.
"I don't know how to thank you. You saved my life. Me, my wife, my children… I have no words. I thought I was going to die."
"Just doing our job, Mr. Vermonth," Jack said, his superstar smile softening, becoming more personal and reassuring. He stepped closer and gave him a firm, friendly pat on the shoulder. "We're glad you and your family are safe. Take care."
From her perspective, just a step away, Yuls saw the gesture as an act of pure kindness. A hero comforting a frightened victim. The perfect end to a perfect night.
The next morning, in the Metroville city morgue, Captain Frank Miller stared through a glass window at the autopsy table. On the cold metal slab lay the body of Marcus Vermonth.
"It just doesn't make any sense, Al," Miller said to the medical examiner, a gray-haired and perpetually tired man named Al Chambers. "I saw him on the news last night. He was fine."
"I'm telling you, Frank," Al replied, rubbing his eyes, his face a mask of exhaustion. "Last night he was alive and kicking, thanking those two costumed weirdos. Twelve hours later, his wife finds him cold in bed. I get him down here, and what I find is… well, it's impossible."
"Tell me again," Miller insisted in a low growl. "But like I'm five years old."
Al sighed, taking a sip of stale coffee from a styrofoam cup. "Cancer, Frank. But not normal cancer. It's not like he had a tumor in his lung or his liver. It's that his entire body was a tumor. A galloping, metastatic cancer in every organ, every tissue, every inch of his body. Liver, lungs, brain… even his red blood cells looked like they were eating themselves. It's as if all his cells decided to self-destruct at the same time and in the most aggressive way possible."
The medical examiner shuddered. "I've never seen anything remotely like it. It's medically impossible for something like this to develop in less than several decades, let alone twelve hours. It's a biological aberration."
Miller fell silent, an icy feeling running down his spine. He remembered the news from the night before. The celebration. Jack's perfect smile. The pat on Vermonth's shoulder. A friendly gesture. A comforting gesture.
A gesture. A touch.
He didn't know how. But suddenly, with a certainty that made his stomach turn, he knew who.
The morgue door creaked open and Agent Thorne entered, flanked by two of his men in dark suits. He radiated a cold, governmental authority that made the air in the room feel even colder.
"Captain Miller," Thorne said, his voice devoid of any emotion. He didn't even look at Miller, his eyes fixed on the sheet-covered body. "I appreciate your diligence, but this matter is now under my jurisdiction."
"He died of cancer, according to the M.E.," Miller said, unable to hide the edge in his voice. "Does that sound possible to you, Agent?"
Thorne didn't answer. He walked to the table and an intimidated Al handed him the report. Thorne read it in silence, turning the pages with a calmness that struck Miller as unnatural. He saw no shock on his face, only recognition.
"Died in his sleep, apparently," Al explained.
"Pain?" Thorne asked, not looking up.
"No signs of a struggle. Either it was quick, or he was too exhausted to react."
Thorne closed the report and brought his wrist to his mouth.
"Thorne to Control. Status on Fractal and his men. I need visual medical confirmation. Now."
A tense silence followed.
"Control to Thorne," a voice replied over the comms. "We have… an incident at the detention center. They're requesting sanitary protocol."
"Define 'incident'," Thorne demanded.
"Reports of intense nausea, vomiting, bleeding from mucous membranes, hair loss within minutes. The inmates… they're deteriorating. One is deceased. Two more in critical condition. The rest, in progress."
"All of them?" Thorne asked.
"All from the Vermonth case, sir."
Miller clenched his jaw until it ached.
"Shit," he said quietly.
Al dropped his pen on the report without realizing it.
"Enforce isolation," Thorne ordered. "No one in or out without my order. I want samples with a tripled chain of custody. And I want the CCTV in my office, now."
"Yes, sir."
Thorne cut the communication and looked at Miller, and for the first time, the captain saw a crack in the federal agent's composure. He saw a shadow of something that looked a lot like fear.
And Miller understood everything. The capture wasn't the end. It was a sentence. Jack hadn't forgiven them. He hadn't turned them over to the justice system. He had sentenced them all to death. The thugs with his mere presence, Fractal with the grip on his neck, and Vermonth with a simple, friendly pat on the shoulder. And he had used Apogee's heroism, her debut, her moment of triumph, as the perfect alibi.
In the attic, the sound of an explosion from the TV screen filled the room. Jack and Yuls were cuddled on the sofa, sharing a large bowl of popcorn and watching an old action movie from the nineties.
"Ha, I knew he was going to say that," Yuls laughed as the hero delivered a cheesy one-liner before blowing up a helicopter. She felt light, happy. The adrenaline from the night before had faded into a warm sense of accomplishment and belonging.
"You did an amazing job last night, Yuls," Jack said quietly, his arm around her in a fond, protective gesture. "You did so much better than I ever estimated. The way you handled those thugs, the air shield… it was pure genius. Instinctive."
"Really?" she asked, looking up at him.
"Really," he affirmed, his eyes serious. "I'm so proud of you."
His words filled her with pride and a sense of calm. She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth and strength that emanated from him.
"Thanks, Jack," she murmured. "It felt… good. It felt amazing."
"You are amazing," he said, his voice a reassuring whisper. "We're changing the world, Yuls. Together."
The man beside her was her mentor, her protector, her friend. The only one who truly understood her. The darkness of the world, the loneliness that had followed her for so long, it all seemed to vanish when she was with him.
Meeting Jack, she thought as the movie played on and she felt completely safe in his arms, was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
