229 Solstice [Nicole]
229 Solstice [Nicole]
“Back to work, people,” I told the other two as Nick vanished along with the intruders.
The air felt quieter the moment he was gone.
Annoying bastards.
“But I just want to slack off,” Onyx complained, stretching dramatically like she hadn’t just threatened to murder someone minutes ago.
Silver smiled sheepishly. “It’s for our son, you know… ah—sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“No, it’s fine,” I said immediately.
And it was. Truly.
The two of them were as much a mother to Ron as I was. That truth had settled into me naturally, without resistance. I remembered Nick’s life, memories he rarely shared out loud. The pain he carried. The things that shaped him into Eclipse. His mother had loved him fiercely, unapologetically, and that love was the reason he survived long enough to become who he was.
With three mothers… Ron would receive three times that love.
Nick had always feared his son might turn out like him. I never understood why. There was nothing wrong with Nick, no matter how deeply he believed otherwise.
Onyx clicked her tongue but reluctantly pitched in, while Silver hummed softly to herself as she worked. The room slowly transformed with sharp edges dulled, hazards removed, and corners padded. By the time we finished baby-proofing the place, the space felt ready.
I turned to Onyx. “So. Care to enlighten me how the two of you suddenly evolved from magical hallucinations into psychic constructs capable of touch?”
Onyx smirked. “You should have an idea too, right?”
I looked toward the window.
There it was. A steady, unmistakable psychic thread stretching far beyond the walls of the house.
Ron.
I exhaled slowly. “I can’t believe it. A psychic baby.” I smiled to myself. “I’m definitely an awesome mom.”
“We are awesome moms!” Silver corrected cheerfully.
Onyx yawned. “I feel sleepy. I think I should rest. Recover. And maybe… find a way to maintain this manifestation a little longer.”
“I feel tired too,” Silver added.
“Thanks for the help,” I said sincerely.
“Anytime,” Silver replied.
They disappeared at the same time, leaving the room empty.
I took a shower, letting the heat clear my thoughts, then changed into formal clothes. A suit. Clean lines. Authority. I caught my reflection and barely recognized how composed I looked compared to the chaos earlier.
I decided then, I was going to the Company.
When I stepped outside, a sedan sat discreetly parked along the curb. Inside were my two very dedicated bodyguards, personally handpicked by Nick. I knocked on the glass.
It slid down.
Two buxoms stared back at me.
Of course Nick chose women for my security detail. Of course. But there was more to it than that. Both of them were intangibility capes, perfect for protection, surveillance, and escape.
Two-D sat in the passenger seat. Phasecrash was behind the wheel.
“Bring me to the Company,” I said calmly. “I need a ride there.”
Phasecrash frowned. “We’ve been strictly told to keep distance from you, ma’am. I’m afraid even interacting with you is against protocol.”
“It’s for your safety, ma’am,” Two-D added.
They were both older than me. Older than Nick, even. And yet, Nick was their boss.
And I was the boss’s woman.
I tilted my head slightly. “What do you think is safer for me?” I asked plainly. “That I drive myself to the Company, alone, fully exposed? Or that I ride with the two of you, where I’d clearly be safer?”
They hesitated.
“The rule about keeping distance,” I continued, “was meant to give me space. To make me comfortable. Nick is considerate like that.” I met their eyes. “But I plan to involve myself more with the cape scene. To support him however I can. I can’t do that by being a delicate flower.”
I straightened. “Now. Bring me to the Company.”
They stiffened.
The two of them exchanged a look, clearly communicating without words. Finally, Two-D sighed.
“Ah, damn it.”
She stepped out of the car, opened the back passenger door, and gestured politely.
“Please.”
I knew I was being unreasonable.
But I also knew what I wanted out of life.
With my psychic baby practically propping up my power rating, it would be a waste—no, a shame—not to put that strength to good use. I might not be as strong as Nick, not on his level of raw inevitability, but I wanted to be present. Involved. I didn’t want to be someone he protected from afar while shouldering everything alone.
I wanted to stand closer to his world.
I sat down in the back seat. Two-D returned to the passenger side, and Phasecrash eased the sedan back onto the road, the house shrinking behind us.
I spoke casually, to no one in particular. “Among my security detail… is it just the two of you?”
Two-D answered easily. “It’s just the two of us. We live across the street. We rotate shifts with George assisting from behind the scenes, plus a couple of mundane personnel hidden in the background.” She glanced at me through the mirror. “Someone you could use as a battery if you have to.”
I nodded. The Company’s redeveloped battery system, an improved version of the Monarchy’s old design. No brainwashing. No hollowed-out minds. Just volunteers whose neural load could be temporarily borrowed to support a psychic under strain.
Phasecrash added, “Today it should’ve just been me. But there were… sudden changes.”
I didn’t comment. There was no need to tell them that SRC’s upper brass had summoned Nick. Some information moved better when left unsaid.
Still, curiosity gnawed at me.
“What’s your relationship with Nick?” I asked.
The question hung heavier than I intended.
I studied them more closely. Two-D had that rogue-like charm. She had confident posture, sharp smile, blonde hair, and a figure I couldn’t help feeling envious of. Phasecrash looked straitlaced, disciplined, almost austere, but the beauty was there too, restrained and undeniable.
I hated that my mind went there.
Silver in me was meek, vulnerable, and too quick to compare. Onyx was already bristling, possessive, jealous. It was better to deal with this early, before those feelings curdled into something uglier.
Even resting, Onyx and Silver perceived everything. They were quiet, but present, watching from the back of my mind.
The atmosphere in the car tightened.
Two-D cleared her throat. “It’s… hard to describe. There’s an NDA attached, so—”
“It wouldn’t hurt to tell her,” Phasecrash interrupted quietly. “She’s the boss’s woman.”
Two-D frowned. “She might misunderstand.”
“Misunderstand what?” I asked calmly.
Two-D hesitated, then sighed. “The contract was pretty loose. No psychic binding. So we can probably talk about it.”
That gave me pause.
I shouldn’t pry, but now I was genuinely curious. George could monitor people so thoroughly he could prevent treachery before it even formed. Still, it was standard courtesy and standard sense to use psychic bindings on dangerous capes.
Nick hadn’t.
I’d read their files. Nick had even asked my opinion before hiring them. Their manifestation of intangibility was exceptional and far beyond the norm. On second thought, Nick might’ve planted some kind of electrokinetic failsafe in them instead. That was more his style.
Two-D continued, voice careful. “We have two duties. One is bodyguarding you.”
“And?” I prompted.
“And accompanying Eclipse,” Phasecrash finished.
Silence followed.
They both looked nervous now, shoulders tense, eyes flicking between each other as if silently negotiating how much to say next.
I leaned back in my seat, hands folded neatly in my lap.
“Go on,” I said.
Phasecrash spoke first, voice steady but cautious. “The details are… fuzzy. I was doubtful the first time too. But it was mostly harmless. I’d be asked into a room, strapped to a chair, and then blindfolded.”
I frowned. My imagination immediately went places I didn’t appreciate.
“Same,” Two-D added, trying and failing to keep her expression neutral. “And then he would do something… there was this strange feeling. Like he was inside me…”
I went completely still.
Just… what?
Phasecrash shot her a sharp look and hurried to clarify. “I believe it was a power phenomenon. Something about his intangibility. It felt like he was inside us, but not in a physical sense.” She exhaled slowly. “Afterward, my mastery over intangibility noticeably improved. He’d then ask me a series of questions about how I applied warp techniques, how I stabilized phase-shifts. I think he was trying to understand how to manifest our power’s unique traits with his own.”
Two-D snapped her fingers. “Yeah. That.”
I stayed quiet for a moment, letting the picture assemble itself.
I’d already calmed down, but I could feel Silver shrinking inward, uneasy, while Onyx simmered with a low, possessive heat. They weren’t happy, even if ‘I’ understood.
Nick had been using possession.
Not the crude kind. The refined, surgical version of intangibility of slipping into another intangible user’s phase-space to observe, to map how their power worked from the inside. In return, they gained better control, better intuition. A mutual exchange, though one he clearly didn’t advertise.
He was hiding that ability.
It made too much sense.
There were… faster ways for Nick to grow stronger. If he wanted to be ruthless, he could have hunted every intangible-class cape on the planet, killed them, monopolized the power, and skyrocketed in strength.
But he didn’t.
Nick had changed. He’d grown. Built principles he once would’ve scoffed at, principles he would’ve discarded without hesitation if they stood in the way of his goals.
That mattered.
We arrived at the Company soon after. George was already waiting, meeting me in the special chamber where my baby boy slept peacefully, suspended and safe. The steady psychic thread between us hummed stronger here.
“So,” George said casually, hands behind his back, “when’s the wedding?”
“Probably after Nick deals with the Entity.”
He groaned. “Come on. I keep telling you two that postponing something so precious will only hinder you. You’re basically planting a death flag.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sorry, but no. Nick needs that stake. Something unfinished. Something waiting for him.”
George stared at me, then sighed. “Ah. Power motivation and growth. The greater the pressure, the more a power evolves. Pragmatic.” He shook his head. “And a bit too heartless.”
“If it gives Nick even a sliver more advantage, I’m all for it,” I said without hesitation. “That sliver could be the difference between life and death.” I glanced toward Ron. “A ceremony is just a ceremony. If I can’t enjoy the rest of my life with him by my side, I might as well die. I don’t want to be a widow, George.”
He clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. “And your son?”
I didn’t hesitate.
“There’s no need to entertain that thought,” I said confidently. “Nick will prevail. I just know it.”
George folded his arms, then spoke again, more gently this time.
“How about you think of it from a different perspective?” he said. “Who do you think will be stronger? A Nick who’s fighting so he can return to you and finally have that wedding? Or a Nick who’s fighting for his family?”
I didn’t answer immediately.
“I believe the stake is larger with the second one,” George continued. “I understand postponing the wedding was more of Nick’s wish. That alone tells me how afraid he is of losing you.” He looked straight at me. “Nicole… he already lost you twice. Do you remember?”
Of course I did.
The first time, in Crow’s hands. The second time, in Light’s.
They weren’t really me, but they’d been me enough.
“He’s doing all of this for you as much as for his son,” George said. “And that’s admirable. But I think he could draw even greater strength if he’s doing this for his family. A picture with him in it.”
I exhaled slowly.
George’s wisdom really was incredible. Maybe becoming an information-based creature did that to you. Or maybe it was just George being George.
I changed the subject before he could push further. “Give me work. I want to contribute to the Company.”
He didn’t hesitate. “If you truly wish to help Nick, I believe staying away from this would be the best course of action.”
That stung.
I clenched my jaw. He wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.
“I will kill myself if you don’t do as I say,” I snapped.
George leveled me an unimpressed look. “You do know crazy threats don’t work on me, right?”
…Damn it.
I sighed. “Fine. Then listen.”
I straightened, voice steady now, conviction replacing frustration.
“The Company is a unifying body of supervillainy, as opposed to the GDF. The world order is being shuffled at a ridiculous pace, even with your resources, you can’t keep up. And the reason is simple.” I met his eyes. “There’s a vast lack of capes.”
George remained silent, letting me continue.
“Heroes are always more skilled and better equipped than villains. Society favors them. Trains them. Protects them. Villains start with disadvantages stacked against them from the very beginning.” My voice hardened. “I’ve been in the underworld, George. I know what I’m talking about.”
I paced slowly. “Heroes have the government and the people. Villains only have themselves… maybe a few like-minded individuals. More often than not, they get exploited and discarded once they’re no longer useful.”
“For lesser villains,” I added, “that’s the norm. The exceptions are organizations—Monarchy, Deadend, mafia families. Or individuals powerful enough to stand alone.”
I paused.
“Like Eclipse.”
I turned back to him. “Let me join the Company. If you’re worried about my safety, I have two intangibility-class capes acting as my bodyguards. It’d be a waste to keep them glued to me at all times.”
George looked conflicted, but he soon gave an answer. “Fine. But for now… administrative duties only!”
Yes.
I kept my expression neutral, but he caught it anyway.
“Don’t be too happy,” he warned. “So, got any cape names in mind?”
I smiled despite myself. “How does Solstice sound?”
George laughed. “Hah~! Poetic!” He shook his head. “The solstice to his eclipse, huh? Such a fun pair, the two of you.”
I didn’t deny it.