215 Seperation & New Circumstances
215 Seperation & New Circumstances
I sat on the ledge of a skyscraper, boots dangling over a city that refused to sleep. Markend spread beneath me in grids of light and shadow, traffic veins pulsing, towers breathing electricity. From up here, it looked orderly.
Since I finished stabilizing the portal technology, movement between worlds had become… casual. Dangerous in its own way. A month had passed since I clasped hands with Urbanite, since I decided Lockworld was worth the trouble.
Tomorrow, the leaders would finally meet.
Candyland. Foresthome. Kingdom. Urbanite.
All of them in one place, pretending this was diplomacy and not a prelude to war.
A ripple of pressure brushed my back. Space folded with a familiar wrongness.
I didn’t turn.
A woman stepped out of a circular void, her presence distorting the air. Where her right eye should have been was an abyss, an endless hole that swallowed light and depth alike. Gloryhole. A spatial specialist with an unsettling lack of shame about her abilities.
Another figure followed, tapping his way forward with a cane.
Guesswork wore his fedora low, suit crisp despite the wind, blind eyes turned toward me with an accuracy that still irritated me. He stopped a polite distance away and smiled. Gloryhole reached up and slid her eyepatch back into place, sealing the void as the portal snapped shut behind her.
“A hoodie,” he said lightly. “Really sells the moody adolescent vibe.”
I snorted. “I’m an adult. Stop yapping about age. You’re not getting any younger either, and it’s not like we haven’t known each other that long.”
Guesswork placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Cruel. After all the effort I’ve put in lately. You know, the SRC might be bigger than we thought.”
“You’ve been busy,” I said.
He nodded. “And you’re awfully calm for someone who’s about to die.”
The city hummed beneath us, uncaring.
I’d asked him weeks ago to look into my condition. Something was wrong with me in a way my Biokinesis couldn’t untangle.
Even now, I could feel it. Beneath the surface. Like fractures in glass that hadn’t shattered yet.
There was only so much my Enhancer and Biokinesis ratings could do. They hid the symptoms, delayed the consequences, but they couldn’t erase the truth. Dark cracks threaded through me, invisible unless you knew how to look. I wore the hoodie for a reason. Long sleeves. Gloves. Minimal exposure.
I finally turned my head. “How long do I have?”
“A year,” he said. “Before your body turns to dust. Less before the Entity finishes vanishing from our sights.”
I breathed out through my nose. “That’s generous.”
He continued, voice steady. “I’ve achieved most of what I wanted by joining hands with you. Wealth. Influence. Leverage within the SRC. But I’m not ready to let you go yet.”
I glanced at him. “That so?”
“There’s still the Entity,” he said. “And I’d be lying if I said you weren’t useful. Having Eclipse on my side does wonders for one’s career.”
I frowned. “Did your loyalties change without me noticing?”
He smiled, thin and honest in his own way. “I’ve always been loyal to myself. Only myself.”
The wind tugged at my hood.
“When I learned about the end,” he went on, “experienced my powers spiraling, about the things that were going to happen to me and everyone around me, I lost it. Completely. So I shook hands with you. Survival makes for strange partnerships.”
“And now?” I asked.
“And now,” he said softly, “all alliances end eventually. Ours ends after you deal with the Entity.”
I stood.
The motion sent a tremor through my body that I pretended not to notice. I walked toward him until we were close enough that even his cane shifted slightly.
“Careful,” I said. “Don’t forget the pecking order.”
He tilted his head up toward me, blind eyes calm, unafraid.
“There’s never been a pecking order between us,” Guesswork replied. “We agreed to this alliance for survival.”The woman behind him hadn’t relaxed once since stepping through the portal.
Gloryhole stood with her weight slightly shifted back, one hand hovering near her eyepatch as if space itself were something she might need to grab and tear open at a moment’s notice. Her thoughts were loud. Fear wrapped in caution, threaded with contingency plans and exit routes.
I frowned inwardly.
She hadn’t been like this the last time we met. Back then, she’d been wary, yes, but not… rattled. And my reputation hadn’t grown in months. If anything, it had stabilized.
So why now?
My gaze slid back to Guesswork. “Are you planning to betray me?”
He let out a dry laugh. “Hell no. I’m not suicidal. Besides, I’d be demoted so fast my head would spin if I tried anything against you.”
“That doesn’t explain why you suddenly sound loyal to the SRC,” I said.
Guesswork sighed and adjusted his grip on the cane. “Because they’re bigger than we realized. Much bigger. We used to look at them as enemies, overseers, tyrants, meddlers. And sure, at the bottom, corruption rots everything it touches.”
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
“But the system itself? It’s necessary. Someone has to regulate powers before they spiral out of control and metastasize. That’s the nature of powers, Nick. They corrupt. Every time. Left unchecked, they turn into cancer.”
My jaw tightened.
“The SRC’s job,” he continued, “is to cut that cancer out before it kills the host. And the Entity? That’s an extreme case.”
I watched the city lights flicker below, felt the weight of his words press against my ribs. “Is that all you came here to tell me?”
“No,” Guesswork said. “I came to draw a line. To make my affiliation clear before you do something irreversible.”
I scoffed. “I’m not about to commit genocide.”
His expression didn’t change. “Other versions of you did.”
The air went still.
“In a lot of worlds,” he went on calmly, “Eclipse is a multiversal-class terrorist. Entire civilizations erased. Dark histories. Infamy that makes even seasoned capes the likes of SRC’s nervous.”
Gloryhole swallowed audibly.
“I’m not that scared,” she stammered quickly, a beat too late.
Her thoughts betrayed her.
Guesswork didn’t call her out. “That’s why she’s shaking. Not because of what you are here, but because of what you’ve been elsewhere. So, don’t be too hard on her…”
I exhaled slowly.
“I’ll continue monitoring the Entity,” Guesswork said. “HQ’s researchers believe it’s growing stronger. Stronger than projected.”
He turned his head slightly toward me. “The SRC wants it dealt with sooner rather than later.”
“Before I croak,” I muttered.
He smiled faintly.
It was serious enough that even I couldn’t laugh it off.
I had always known, on some level, that my view of the multiverse was incomplete, but seeing Guesswork like this drove the point home. Calm. Aligned. Speaking with the confidence of someone backed by something vast and patient. I really was a frog in a well, wasn’t I? To think the SRC had managed to put a leash on Guesswork of all people.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a cigarette.
Both of them flinched.
Gloryhole reacted instantly, space warping at her side as a portal half-formed, her fear spiking so sharply it almost annoyed me. I raised the cigarette slightly in response, more amused than offended.
“Relax,” I said. “I just want to smoke.”
Guesswork let out a slow breath. “For a second there, I thought you were about to attack.”
I huffed softly. “There are things even you can’t guess.”
I slipped the cigarette between my lips and sparked it to life with a thread of electrokinesis. Blue-white electricity crackled faintly, then died as the tobacco caught. I inhaled, the familiar burn grounding me as smoke curled into the night air.
It was entirely possible I had more than a year left. It was also possible that ignoring the Entity would somehow work out fine.
Hah. Who was I kidding?
“If you’re wondering,” I said, exhaling, “your visit tells me the Entity isn’t coming here anytime soon.”
Guesswork nodded. “Correct. The likelihood is under one percent. Our researchers believe it’s actively avoiding you.”
That earned a glance. “Avoiding me?”
“Yes,” he said. “It’s been adapting. Hide-and-seek strategies. Staying out of sight while growing stronger.”
I felt a chill creep up my spine. “And how does it grow stronger?”
He didn’t hesitate. “By eating worlds.”
The words landed with more weight than any threat. I stared out over Markend, imagining entire realities folding in on themselves, reduced to fuel for something that shouldn’t exist.
“Tell me more,” I said.
Guesswork shook his head. “I can’t. Not unless you join the SRC’s core.”
I snorted, smoke spilling from my mouth. “That’s not happening. The SRC isn’t for me, and you know it. I’m comfortable where I am, and when the time comes, I’ll kill this Entity with everything I have.”
There was no point pretending otherwise. The SRC’s strategy was obvious now. Foist the problem onto me, let me and the Entity collide, then clean up whatever was left. If they could have dragged it here by force, they would have already done so. The fact that they hadn’t meant the Entity was smart enough to avoid the trap.
“So,” I said after a moment, “is that all the SRC wants from me?”
Guesswork tilted his head slightly. “You’re asking about the Box.”
I didn’t bother denying it. He had been part of the scheme from the start. The plan had been simple in concept and obscene in scope: seize control from every angle at once. SRC, heroes, villains, and the Box itself. Lockworld first, then whatever came after. Deal with the Entity once the board was firmly in our hands.
When Guesswork had learned what the SRC really was, how deep it went, how many worlds it balanced on its spine… that was when he’d changed. Not out of loyalty, not even fear, but out of self-preservation and a very human sense of scale.
He was here now because it was the smartest way to handle me.
That didn’t mean I was happy about it.
I flicked ash off the cigarette and ground my teeth together. What was so special about the SRC, anyway? A multiverse-class civilization wasn’t exactly unique. The NSD existed. Others surely did as well, lurking beyond my current reach, harvesting realities in their own ways.
Guesswork had chosen his hill to stand on.
I hadn’t chosen mine yet, but I knew one thing for certain.
No one was going to decide my place in the multiverse for me.
Of course, I had to survive first.
I exhaled a thin stream of smoke and glanced sideways at Guesswork. “I guess you’re no longer with the Godslayers club,” I said lightly. “Pity.”
He shrugged, casual as ever. “If you’re still willing to accept me, even now, I’d stay.”
I snorted. “World domination might not be off the table yet, huh? I should be grateful, that’s what you want to say, right?”
That earned a laugh. It almost felt like old times, which only made what came next more bitter. “What about the Box?” I asked. “You know exactly what I’m doing there. Don’t tell me your superiors are in the dark.”
Guesswork didn’t dodge it. “They know. Or at least, they will. And frankly? They wouldn’t mind.”
My jaw tightened.
“The Box,” he continued, “is rot. It’s clung to the SRC for far too long. A self-perpetuating tumor. A lot of people up top would love to see it excised.”
So that was it. I was being told plainly to my face that I was going to be used.
And worse, that I would do it willingly.
It pissed me off more than I cared to admit. Not because it was unexpected, but because it was true. I didn’t have the luxury of refusing. Killing the Entity wasn’t about ideology or pride. It was about my survival. And to do that, I needed power. Real power. Capes, resources, and leverage.
I took another drag, then asked quietly, “And if I don’t play along?”
Guesswork’s tone shifted. The humor drained out of it, leaving something colder behind. “You probably shouldn’t even think about that.”
I looked at him.
“Before,” he said, “you were invincible in a very specific way. You had nothing to lose. That’s not true anymore.”
My fingers twitched. “If you’re threatening Nicole,” I said flatly, “forget it. If she dies, I’ll feel it, but I’ll rise again. And then I’ll take revenge for her. On everyone involved. Trust me, you wouldn’t want that.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t mean her.”
That was somehow worse.
He turned slightly. “We’re done here.”
Gloryhole didn’t look at me. Space folded, a portal blooming open beside her, and both of them vanished without another word.
The rooftop was silent again.
I dropped the cigarette and crushed it under my boot. I hadn’t thought he’d find out. I had been careful. Meticulous, even. Layers of misdirection, blind spots, and psychic noise. Guesswork wasn’t supposed to see this far ahead.
I expected anger to come next, accompanied by the familiar and steady burn.
Instead, fear crept in.
If it weren’t for my Enhancer ratings, it would have shown on my face.
My phone rang.
It was George.
I answered immediately. “Progress?”
“She’s evacuated,” he said. “Nicole. Didn’t go quietly… She killed half a dozen of the men I sent, but she calmed down real fast when I dropped your name.”
My chest loosened a fraction. “I’m sorry,” I said. “About your men.”
“That’s not like you,” George snapped. “You’re smarter than this, Nick. Smarter. And yet you had to pull something this stupid.”
I closed my eyes.
“And now,” he continued, voice hardening, “You’ve got a pregnant woman to worry about.”
My breath caught.
“…Right,” I said softly. “Nicole’s pregnant.”
The word echoed in my head, heavier than any threat Guesswork had made.
Yeah, I walked into that one.