The Enemy

  The Celestial Ten are called that for a reason. They are, officially according to the World State and Hero Association, the most powerful beings on the planet. And it’s not like that is some sort of bluff, either. Other than me, absolutely no one could ever hope to even put even a dent in them - and even then the only reason I’d be able to beat them is because time travel is an insanely powerful ability. Or so everyone thinks. Most of the world believes that even Number Ten, Crusader, the lowest ranked of the Celestials, is invincible. But they are wrong. They are the most powerful humans alive, true, but they are not unbeatable. I was back home, once more staring at the whiteboard after convincing Love Love to follow along for now, a hand on my chin as I mentally went through the script I had to follow. The party Immortalis was throwing was in two days, but until then I had quite a few things to do. Is this even worth the trouble? I wondered, setting down the marker as I looked around my room in disinterest. I literally just tried this very same plan last time and it failed miserably. I grimaced while deep in thought and finally sighed in defeat. Fine, I have nothing better to do anyway. I’ll give it another try. What was a few more years of experimenting? I’d figure something out eventually. Eventually. I shook my head to snap out of such depressing thoughts and finally willed myself to fall asleep.

  I lived in a very modest home despite my immense wealth; a single story, two bedroom house with a cozy living room and a kitchen. I had no reason to live in a lavish mansion or in an ultra advanced modern home, since all that extra clutter would do nothing but add longer walks from my room to the front door. I had indulged in all the ludicrously opulent living quarters I could ever want in previous timelines, though, so much so that I had grown sick of them. I woke up and immediately stood up, not even taking a few seconds to collect myself, and headed straight to the bathroom. I stared at the mirror and into my own eyes for a couple of moments before I finally took a deep breath and began my daily facial muscles exercises. I didn’t have any medical issues or whatnot, but it was very important that I practiced making facial expressions in the mirror every morning since I spent the grand majority of my time with a sort of ‘dead inside’ face, which had caused me issues in previous timelines with making believable expressions, which in turn had cost me a couple of retries. It was all too tedious to have my plans get messed up because I had nearly forgotten how to emote, and I found that this daily routine was therefore indeed worth my time. Still no dreams. I noted absentmindedly as I finished my exercises, stepping into the shower. It had been so long since I had a dream… I was beginning to think that I would never have one again. I kinda miss them.

  I finished showering and dried myself. I walked to my closet and grabbed a copy of the same clothes I used every day, as well as the mask from yesterday that I had placed on the top shelf. It’s ridiculous just how important this flimsy piece of paper really is. I pondered lifelessly, having had that same thought innumerable times. I reminisced for a moment about how very long ago I would find that thought amusing, but any and all humor had dried up by now. I inspected it and put it on, turning to look at myself in the mirror before giving a satisfied nod. I took it off and folded it a few times, stuffing it into my pocket. After that I pulled open the bottom drawer of my nightstand and pulled out the handgun I had stuffed in there. It was locked and loaded, exactly how I had left it the night prior. I pulled it out carelessly, staring down the barrel and at the bullet in the chamber before pointing out my window and directly at the spy staring at me through binoculars hidden within the brush. The glass shattered, the sound of a gunshot resonating through the isolated nearby woods as the woman slumped over, the ground getting tainted red with her blood. That should give the Brazilian government a clear message. I thought with a grimace, placing the still loaded gun back in the drawer while picking up the empty shell laying in the ground and tossing it in the trash.

  I walked outside with my hands in my pockets, having called for a personalised taxi five minutes ago. I didn’t have to worry about the body now laying around the woods, seeing as the local wildlife would pick at it soon enough and my current location was isolated enough that no one would find out before it was too late. Of course, the people who sent the spy would notice the absence… but they were smart enough to keep shut about it. The location of my primary house back in Ecuador had always been pretty much public information, but thanks to being a time traveler I really had absolutely no issue with the Rebellion or anyone else coming after me, seeing as trying to assassinate me was a useless endeavor. As for fans and paparazzi, they stopped after the first year of me being a hero once they realized I didn’t feel like entertaining them - using my abilities to masterfully avoid them at every turn to the point that it was simply not profitable to try and follow me around. Plus, even though I was One - and just became ‘Zero’ unofficially - I have never been one of the more popular Celestials when it came to the press or stalkers. Little kids and teenagers simply don’t find time travel to be that flashy or cool of a power compared to what the other Celestials offered, that and my perfectly average looks didn’t help either. Things change a bit when you’re in the midst of a massive world-wide scandal currently engulfing the World State and Hero Association, though, which is why I had moved to this secondary secret location for the time being. The press are swarming my old house like a pack of starving vultures right about now.

  The taxi arrived shortly after and I sat down on the copilot seat, making the driver turn to look at me with a scowl before he recognised who I was and quickly looked away with wide eyes in surprise. He opened his mouth to say something, but I spoke first. There is NOTHING more tedious than repeating the same senseless and empty conversation hundreds of times. “Don’t worry about it, man,” I started, giving him a fake smile as I turned to look at him with my pitch black eyes, “Just drive and I’ll tell you where to go. Important hero stuff, yeah? Thanks.” The taxi driver slowly closed his mouth, realizing that everything he was about to ask I had answered before he even uttered a word, the gears in his head turning as he internalised what had just happened. He looked forward, his eyes narrowing as he gripped the wheel and began to drive with a renewed purpose. Many years ago I once bothered to ask about that look in his eyes, and he had told me that having the opportunity to aid someone as legendary as me with something that I had clearly had to reset many times to achieve inspired him greatly. Even to this day I found it slightly amusing. More importantly; this particular man wouldn’t blab to anyone about me, which was immensely helpful.

  Once we arrived at the edge of the favelas, I stepped out of the taxi while handing the driver a stack of bills, not bothering to count the amount of money I had handed over. The man was about to protest but I shook my head at him, after which he finally sighed and shrugged, driving away. I was now on the border to one of the most dangerous and dirty parts of Rio de Janeiro, and you could literally smell it in the air. I sighed and walked into the one alley where no one would be looking, taking the mask out of my pocket and unfurling it, placing it on my face. I began my little journey, ducking and weaving through many strange passageways and winding alleys that even the oldest of the slum dwellers didn’t know about, all to just avoid being seen. This was the reason I had picked Rio de Janeiro as the location to have my secretive secondary home; it was very close to a particular place I would be visiting very often. I arrived at the correct spot eventually, opening the manhole cover in the ground and jumping down into the sewers. The first few times I did this I had to spend a few seconds getting used to the disgusting smell before I could carry on, but at this point I was so desensitized to the very concept of a sense of smell that I didn’t have such issues anymore. About five minutes later and after more than a few twists and turns along the overtly complex sewer system, I finally arrived at a conspicuously hidden door in a wall. I grimaced as I quickly went through the script in my head before approaching the fake wall, knocking on it a few times to the rhythm of a nursery rhyme. This caused a small slide-door to open, a pair of crazed blood-shot eyes looking down at me. I stared back up through the mask, my eyes dull and unbothered. The man grunted, opening his mouth to speak, yellow teeth lining his gums, “No masks.” I smirked a bit and leaned on the door, staring up at him. “I’m here on Rachel Ingrid’s direct orders,” I retorted, my eyes unwavering as they challenged him directly. The man took a step back in surprise at hearing me utter those words, speaking of a name only known to a very select few. He pursed his lips, looking around nervously, but finally deciding to open the door.

  The Rebellion headquarters wasn’t nearly as flashy as the Association’s, but that much should be expected. A terrorist organization despised by the majority of the world and the direct nemesis to what was essentially the world police didn’t have the luxury to have a pretty base of operations, after all. Upon entering, the underground construct revealed just how truly large it was. No one would ever expect such a massive system to exist underneath such a large city, making it the perfect hiding place. On all sides of the massive main hub were doors leading to various underground complexes and tunnel systems. Empress is currently busy checking out the Siberian tundra on a false lead. I thought absentmindedly, picturing her walking around that frozen wasteland searching for a base of operations that didn’t exist. Upon taking my first step in, the Rebellion members gathered in the main hub area all quickly stopped what they were doing and turned to look at me, curiosity quickly fading in favor of shock followed by murderous intent. This place was a disorganized mess, and the general zone was more like a massive bar for exclusive members than it was an actual HQ where important decisions were made. People were sitting around small tables with potent liquors in their hands, not a single one without at least a gun or two - even though the majority of them had powers. As a side note, I actually once ran an experiment on a whim and discovered that the ratio of normals to crippled was 9:1 respectively, the exact same as the global average. Just a fun fact I know. Whatever the case, their willingness to show off their weapons so openly and zealousness for being armed to the teeth just went to show how seriously the Rebellion took themselves, even if their poker games and relaxed demeanors said otherwise.

  I merely gave the room a vague nod and continued to walk forward, ignoring the gazes on me. I approached the bar and sat down on one of the chairs, the entire place still dead silent as they all stared at me. It's not like a new recruit was something this utterly bizarre, what was off-putting them and causing such a reaction was my mask. The Rebellion had a strict no-anonymity policy, since facelessness was both a danger to their operations and also a direct contrary to their ideology. All in all, the point was that hiding my face was akin to me directly spitting on each of their faces individually. Some even turned to the gatekeeper, as if asking him what the hell he was thinking allowing me in. He gave them an apologetic but firm nod and looked at the bartender with narrowed eyes, motioning towards me. The tension finally broke when the old bartender sighed and walked towards me, staring at me with disgust with his silvery glistening eyes. I looked at him with my empty black eyes, only making the man feel even more uneasy. Hello there, Savage. Long time no see. I thought in boredom as I met his glare cautiously. “You’ve got the eyes of a corpse. Trust me, I’d know,” Savage hissed softly, his voice barely a whisper. Savage was an old man, fairly past middle aged along with having a head full of gray hairs. Despite his age, though, I knew better than most about just how dangerous he could be. I maintained eye contact, not even cracking a fake smile like I’d normally do to someone insulting me. “I want to get in,” I told him coldly, motioning with my head towards the door behind him, immediately making his eyes widen and the veins on his forehead pop, crushing the glass cup in his hands as he turned towards me even more aggressively. I raised a finger before he could say or do anything else, though. “The password is ‘Heroes mortui sunt’,” I stated firmly, staring directly into his eyes unwaveringly. He hesitated, his eyes darting from me to the door and then back to me, the veins on his forehead popping even more violently as the glass shards dug into his palm, making him bleed.

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  Finally he let a grunt of anger escape his lips, turning around and walking towards the door. “You’d better know what you’re doing. For your sake,” Savage hissed softly at me while giving me a side-eye, his eyes scanning me up and down in disbelief at the situation I had put him in. I stood up and followed behind him closely, knowing better than to test his patience for me while giving him a firm nod to acknowledge his words. He rolled his eyes and opened the door. I walked in hastily, not wasting even a heartbeat, right before he slammed the door closed as hard as he could in hopes it would hit me. I already knew his trick though, so I just gave a small hop forwards to avoid impact, landing in a crouched position. Before I could even get back up, however, I was immediately surrounded by a squad of very pissed off and very powerful rebels. More than one gun barrel was aimed right at my forehead, sharpened ice crystal shards aiming for my throat, electricity and fire crackling through the air. I slowly raised my head, looking around at the people surrounding me, their eyes glowing menacingly and humming with power, raising both my arms in a form of surrender, slowly getting to my feet as I stared back with my dulled pure black eyes. A lack of glow in the eyes means that I’m not using or preparing to use my powers. It’s a sort of way to say ‘I’m unarmed.’ It’s convenient that that’s my natural state. “No need to kill me just yet, Rachel,” I started slowly, savoring every syllable as I turned to look directly at the brown-eyed leader of the group assembled before me. A strikingly normal eye color, considering her status. She raised an eyebrow, the very beginnings of an incredulous smirk appearing at the corner of her mouth, her black hair messily arranged in a bun. “You’d better take that mask off then,” she stated cleanly, her subordinates and friends turning to look at her in surprise that she was even entertaining my plea.

  “There’s a really, REALLY good reason for me to be wearing this mask,” I began, lowering my hands slowly despite not a single one of them powering down or assuming a less threatening stance. I turned to look directly at the man standing the farthest to the left. He was tall, but was very skinny and had an almost feminine build. His eyes were a soft sky blue and his platinum blonde hair reached his shoulders. “I have a feeling Gray will figure it out soon, though,” I mused, staring directly into his eyes and drawing shocked yet silent looks from all those gathered, Rachel’s expression becoming even more curious as her eyes narrowed further. Gray Olsen, not to be confused with that psycho Oliver, who likes to go by Grey Matter. I turned slowly to the right, this time my eyes landing on the next person. He was shorter, had spiky red hair, and his eyes were orange akin to embers. “Falco,” I greeted him with a curt nod. Falco’s jaw dropped slightly in incredulity, his closed fist igniting with bright red flames while his eyes narrowed in anger. His face twisted into a snarl, about to respond before being shut down by Rachel lifting her hand, instead sighing as the flames died down. I ignored Falco and instead looked at Rachel for a moment before continuing. “Cassandra,” I greeted the long haired woman with intensely icy blue eyes and an utterly unhinged look to her, more like a homeless person who had stumbled in and less of a highly important member of any self respecting organisation. She bared her teeth at me like some sort of feral animal, her fist clenching while the ice shards aimed at me trembled. Despite this, she didn’t say anything; allowing me to continue to the next person. “Miguel,” I greeted the large, older, and extremely muscular man next to Cassandra, his amber eyes narrowing in on me despite his being the least threatening pose - merely standing straight with his arms crossed. It’s good to see you again, Destructor. Not many have moved on from your betrayal yet. And finally, I tilted my head as my eyes met the slick haired, blonde, light green eyed short man of the group. “Alexander,” I muttered slowly, nodding at him. Alexander gave me a wide grin, raising an eyebrow as electricity crackled around him, eyeing me with amusement and childish curiosity. I looked back to Rachel, bowing my head. “There’s also Tendai, the bartender who just a few minutes ago threatened me, and finally, Oliver is currently missing. I also happen to know where he is, though,” I finished. I had their full undivided attention now, but that was to be expected. Barely anyone knew of any single one of their real names, and even fewer knew every single one of them. Yes, Rachel must be currently pondering if any of the people present is a traitor. But she’ll come to the conclusion that no one here could possibly be one, though.

  Rachel finally sighed, bringing the attention to her as she whipped out a cigarette and lit it by placing the tip on Falco’s hair. She turned around and sat back down in her chair at the roundtable everyone had been gathered in before I intruded in their top secret meeting. The others followed her example, without letting me off their sights for even a moment, though. Once everyone was seated, I bowed once more as a sign of respect. Rachel looked at her friends and then back to me, pulling the cigarette out of her mouth as she gave me her answer, “I’ll allow the mask for now,” she pointed out before taking another deep puff of the cigarette, “But only because you’re not one of Empress’ cronies. If she knew as much about us as you do, she wouldn’t bother with a spy like this. That being said, you being allowed to wear that on your face means you have to make one hell of a deal for us to even consider it.” She pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing once more as a shadow crawled over her face, “If you don’t impress us with your next few words, we’ll just kill you on the spot. Understood?” I remained where I was standing, recognising that line as my queue to respond. “Well…” I began, scratching my chin, seemingly unbothered by the threat, “What if I could provide the ‘opportunity’ you’re looking for?” I grinned broadly and smugly as I saw every single person in the room stare at me in sheer disbelief. After all, I had just interrupted a meeting about acquiring said ‘opportunity,’ a subject only privy to the people here and exactly one more person. My eyes wandered over to Gray, my smirk faltering slightly as his expression of disbelief was slowly replaced by a frown. He figured it out already, the smart kid. But that’s not a problem, he never tells the rest of them about me, for some reason. “All I ask in return is to be allowed an advisor position in this organization of yours!” I finished with a tone of excitement, interlacing my fingers.

  Rachel frowned deeply, her glowing brown eyes narrowing in on me as she took another puff of her cigarette. “I won’t ask how you know about any of this - I am smart enough to realise that you’d rather die than talk,” she then closed her fist and crushed the lit cigarette in her hand, “But I’m also not stupid enough to trust something so important to a complete stranger.” The rest of the group were dead silent as they sat around the roundtable, their eyes glowing dimly as they looked from Rachel to me. I chuckled audibly while making direct eye contact with her, my own still completely dim, unsettling those present ever so slightly before I responded, “I figured as much. If you’ll allow me, I'd like to earn your trust with a few different proposals.” I took a short pause, Rachel lifting one of her eyebrows in interest as she gave me a short nod as permission to carry on. I smirked a bit more widely as I took a deep breath and produced a rolled up scroll of paper from my pocket, tossing it on the table, “You see, number Seven, Immortalis, is going to throw a party at his Brazilian mansion in two days. He also happens to keep the majority of his money in solid assets like gold bars and gems - mostly so he can show off and boast,” I spread open the scroll of paper over their roundtable, the groups’ eyes narrowing as they stared down at it, realisation dawning on the collective group, “And this here is a detailed blueprint of said mansion. The good stuff is in this basement right here, if you catch my drift. A ‘terrorist’ organization could always use some more money, no?”

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  Once Kronos had left, Rachel turned to look at the rest of the group, the blueprint already unfurled in front of them. Her eyes darkened over as she pondered over the mysterious stranger that had just walked in on them and had seemingly promised the world so nonchalantly. His eyes were wrong. I can’t explain it, but they were. She thought, not really able to rationalize it properly or to come up with a genuine excuse to not go with his plan. But there was something about him, something was off. He seemed robotic, inhuman, and simply wrong. Unbeknownst to Kevin, every time he had proposed this plan in so many other timelines, Rachel would teeter on the edge of trusting or not trusting him and his plan. She eventually would always decide to take the gamble and trust him. Not this time, though. Rachel’s teetering tipped to the other side by a sliver, merely because Kevin’s eyes looked even more dead inside than usual. A gut instinct told her that she needed to be more careful than the mysterious stranger was telling her she had to be. “Alexander,” she finally said, turning over to the short yellow haired electromancer, her following words being the unwitting catalyst for everything to come. He looked up from the plans and at her, raising an eyebrow while his eyes twinkled playfully. Rachel sighed, “You’re going to participate in the heist. I have an idea.”

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  Breadman stared down at the crystalline creature that was currently bleeding out a few meters away from where he stood, its body perfectly still. His left arm was morphed into a blade the size of a bed, currently dripping with blood from the edge, his eyes glowing dimly from behind his sunglasses while he let out a sigh. He turned around slowly, placing the beige blade against the grass and slowly sliding it over the ground to try and wipe out some of the blood on it before turning his hand back to normal. “Hrgk-” the monster behind him garbled nonsensically, drowning in its own blood. Four’s eyes narrowed and he quickly turned around, his other hand transforming into a massive mallet that he raised over his head, aiming for the monster that was clearly not dead enough. The monster screeched louder, its multitude of broken glass-like arms flailing around wildly, still laying down on the floor powerlessly, its eyes focusing on the hero with what could only be described as terror. The Celestial hesitated, his pupils dilating as they focused on the monster’s expression. It looks… scared? He wondered momentarily, the mallet still raised above him and poised to ground the monster into paste at a moment's notice.

  The creature suddenly pushed itself off the ground with what little strength it had left and lunged towards the hero in one last act of desperation, its crystalline maw wide open with the intention of ripping off Four’s jugular, still screaming gibberish. Breadman tsk’d and brought down his arm, the mallet obscuring the entire area around the creature in shadow as it descended on it in what felt like slow-motion. The creature was crushed, its body pressing against the ground slowly as its entire being began to shatter from the pressure, its eyes bulging, making one last sound, “S…ave… me…” and then it ceased to be with a chilling crushing sound. Four’s eyes widened, the light coming out from the sides of his sunglasses intensifying tenfold as he quickly retracted the mallet back into his body, rushing over to the crushed remains of the monster and getting to his knees, grabbing at the crystal shards that used to make up its body. “IT SPOKE-?!” he asked no one in particular with a tone dripping with desperation, holding the glass-like pieces in his hand and turning them over, blood dripping from his palms as he cut himself on the remains of the creature, his breath becoming heavier as he slowly processed what had just happened. “It… it spoke…” he muttered, getting to his feet as he struggled to grab his phone out of his pocket, muttering curses as his nervousness almost didn’t allow him to do that simple act, “I must- I have to do something… Empress… for once in your life, you have to believe me!!” He grit his teeth so hard that they began to break, the veins on his forehead becoming visible, his voice turning into a roar of anger, “IT BEGGED DAMMIT!!!”