A Hitman's Guide To Becoming A Hero

The dust cloud thinned, revealing two figures standing where the collapsed wall had swallowed Zero moments earlier. Nectron was the first thing most people noticed, enormous even among the heroes gathered around the street, his boots buried slightly into the asphalt as the gravity around his body settled back into place.

Cracks spread from beneath his feet, not because he had moved, but because the ground had simply struggled to hold him after the force of the throw. Beside him, Vixen still had both hands raised from the fold she’d used to cross the distance, her cape drifting back into place around her shoulders as she stared at the ring of heroes with an expression that made it painfully clear she wasn’t impressed by what she’d found waiting for them.

"NECTRON’S HERE!" Julie’s voice cracked through the broadcast from her hiding spot two blocks away, half sob, half relief. "AND VIXEN! OH THANK GOD, VIXEN’S HERE!"

[Marypaz13: IT’S THE TOURNAMENT TEAM.]

[Zerox4575: Nectron just PUNTED zero into a building with gravity. That’s just rude lol]

[Cyndy9338: okay I’m crying a little. somebody’s finally on his side]

[reinstate: the same two people who fought with him at the tournament. THAT has to mean something]

[infinite_shadows_2972: hold up, if HIS OWN TEAMMATES are risking their necks for him... doesn’t that tell you everything]

Nectron rolled his shoulders and looked around at the ring of nine, unimpressed.

"You’ve got a lot of people here for one man," he said, his deep voice carrying easily across the wreckage. "Funny. I don’t remember any of you showing up when he came to our rescue in the dome."

The heroes who’d formed the ring shifted, weapons lowering half an inch, glances passing between them.

Whatever certainty had held the formation together started to crack the moment two names that outranked every one of them stepped into the circle. A few began, quietly, to edge backward, putting distance between themselves and a fight they suddenly weren’t sure they wanted any part of.

"It’s true, he did save them in the dome," someone muttered. "And he hasn’t really killed anyone."

"That doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous," another shot back, though the conviction had already drained out of the words, "We all saw what he said on the broadcast"

"He’s got a bounty on him," a third added, weaker still. "Sir Larry’s own office put it out. That has to mean something, doesn’t it?"

"Does it?" Nectron’s gaze swept over the man, and he said nothing further, letting the question sit there unanswered and heavy.

Rope girl’s cords slackened where they still coiled loosely around Nicholas’ wrist, her grip faltering as she looked between the man she’d trapped and the two legends who’d just arrived to stand in front of him.

"...Are we still doing this?" she asked, to no one in particular.

"We can end this all if he turns himself in. We can’t afford to lose more civilians"

Nobody answered her.

Vixen didn’t wait for the ring to sort itself out. She crossed straight to Nicholas, took one look at the state of him, blood soaked and swaying and silent, and something in her expression went hard.

"How long do you plan to keep quiet?" she demanded, rounding on him. "Why can’t you just tell them? Tell everyone it isn’t you doing this. That you’re not the one behind whatever’s been happening in your name." She threw a hand at the ring of heroes, at the wreckage, at the whole absurd situation. "Or is this just what you do for fun now? Standing there and letting people believe the worst because you enjoy watching them figure it out the hard way? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’d rather get beaten half to death than open your mouth."

Nicholas said nothing, which was, in its own way, an answer.

A slow, unhurried clap started somewhere behind them, and every head in the ring turned. Zero walked out of the collapsed storefront at a leisurely pace, brushing brick dust from his shoulders as though being thrown through a wall had been little more than an inconvenience.

"Vixen," he said, warmly, as though greeting an old classmate. "It’s been what, three years? And this is how you welcome me back. Straight through a wall." He rolled his neck with an audible crack. "Is that a hug in your language, or did you just miss my face specifically?"

"Zero." Vixen’s voice went flat and cold. "You’re supposed to be in Africa."

"I was. Then I heard the whole country was talking about some new hero causing a mess back home, and I thought, well, that sounds like fun." He shrugged, tapping the flat of his blade against his shoulder. "Turns out it’s more fun than advertised. He’s stronger than I expected. I might actually have to try."

"You look like you’ve aged ten years," Vixen said, eyeing the scar across his forehead. "What happened to you out there?"

"Character development." Zero grinned. "I picked up a few new hobbies. Collecting rare items. Playing around in ancient tombs." He said lightly, "You could visit the tomb, it’ll be really good for you"

"No thank you" Vixen replied coldly

"See, that’s exactly the kind of thing an old friend says." He pressed a hand to his chest, mock wounded. "I missed you too, Vixen."

"You’re going to leave," Nectron said, stepping forward,

"Whatever bounty, whatever grudge, whatever this is. You and everyone else in this ring are going to walk away, right now, while I’m still asking politely."

Zero looked at him, and something in his easy smile sharpened.

"Politely." Zero let the word hang between them for a moment, amusement slowly returning to his expression. "You know, I always did like you, Nectron. Rivals should. Three years apart, and you haven’t gotten any softer, have you? Good. I’d have been disappointed." He rolled his shoulders, the blade humming low against his palm. "But you’re standing in the way of something I want very badly right now, and I’m afraid politeness isn’t going to move me."

He closed his eyes.

And the desire poured back into him, faster and thicker than it had before, no longer trickling in from nine scattered strangers but flooding from every direction at once. Somewhere beyond the wreckage, further down the ruined street, more figures were gathering, drawn by the broadcast, by the noise, by the sight of a bounty target finally cornered, and every single one of them carried the same small, ugly want inside their chest.

Kill Phantom.

Zero’s blade drank it all in.

The miasma along its edge went from a slow pulse to a roaring current, black light crawling up the steel and wrapping around his forearm. The pressure radiating from him climbed so quickly that the puddles covering the street began to tremble, thin ripples spreading across the water in every direction while loose fragments of glass and stone shifted against the pavement.

"...His output," Vixen breathed, stepping back a pace despite herself. "That’s not the same as ten minutes ago. That’s not even close."

’He’s not drawing from the ring anymore.’ Nicholas watched through the Third Eye as fresh threads bent inward from streets he couldn’t even see, from windows, rooftops, apartments and every stranger within a mile who had tuned into the broadcast and decided, in the privacy of their own head, that the world would be better with Phantom dead.

It was similar to charm points in the form of desires,and Zero was feeding off it. Nectron’s gravity had barely touched Zero the first time, and Zero had been running on nine desires then. Now there were hundreds, perhaps more, and the number was still climbing. Whatever came next, brute strength wasn’t going to be enough.

Zero opened his eyes. The amusement was gone now, along with the casual confidence he’d carried since stepping back into the street. There was nothing left to prove in his expression. He had felt the increase himself, felt the blade growing heavier with every new desire feeding into it, and whatever calculation he’d been making before had clearly reached its conclusion.

"I like you both," he said, and he meant it, which somehow made it worse. "I really do. Nectron, Vixen, you’re good people. Strong people. The kind I used to enjoy sparring with, back when sparring was still something I did for fun."

He raised the blade, and the black light pouring off it turned the whole street a shade darker.

"But he’s what I came here for, and I intend to leave with him one way or another." His voice dropping an octave, "So I’ll only say this once, out of whatever’s left of that old fondness. Walk away. Both of you. Take whoever else in this ring still has a sense of self-preservation and go."

The wind picked up around him, pulling loose dust, scraps of paper and ash across the street toward the blade. Even the smoke hanging between the buildings seemed to bend in its direction, dragged steadily toward the black light gathering along the steel.

"Because if you don’t," Zero said, quiet and final, "I’ll be forced to kill you too."

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