Super•Villainous

LV

I found Atticus a distance away from the other prison cells in a large room all his own. Blindfolded, chained to a chair, and being assaulted by lights from every angle so as to completely nullify any and all shadows he might draw upon to escape his binds, Atticus's head lolled listlessly to the side. They covered as much of his skin with cloth as was practical to prevent him mimicking their powers via accidental contact, leaving only his neck and the area below the blindfold exposed. Even the air felt dry, void of moisture to manifest ice.

"I'm here," I said, entwining my hands around the bars just to get close. As had been true in Skye's cell, and on top of his physical restraints, there was a stone cage built into the room, showing they took his potential flight risk far more seriously than they had mine. "I'm here to get you out."

"No," he rasped, the word coming out a little too long and a little too slurred, like he was drunk - or heavily medicated. "Leave. Quick. You... won't be able to unlock the door."

"Shows what he knows." Skye caught up, bumping me out of the way and swiping an acid-bloodied finger over the keyhole. It disintegrated from the inside out.

As soon as I was able, I forced my way through and ripped the fabric from his eyes. Dazed, reinforcing my theory that they were using a drug some sort to keep him docile. Weak. At their mercy.

They wouldn't have been able to handle him otherwise, not the man who once lost control and destroyed an entire section of the prison singlehandedly.

"I have you," I whispered, cupping his face just long enough to force his wavering focus onto me. Gods, this close I could make out every bit of discolored flesh, slow to heal after over a week without the benefit of mimicking my power. Already, even from such a brief touch, I could make out the intricacies of the healing process happening in rapid fashion.

"I trust you've got this covered," Skye said from the doorway, edging her way out while I worked to free Atticus the rest of his way from his restraints. "Now we're even."

"Fine," I snapped, distracted. I wouldn't be missing her delightful company anyway. "Go."

But she didn't leave, and even rushed briskly over, huffing, "Goodness, you are absolutely hopeless, aren't you?"

Another swipe of her thumb over a sharpened canine and a flash of red dripping over the thick metal chains had them melting. The smell was the worst part. Indescribable, like pennies and sulfur.

"There," she said, twirling her way back into the corridor. "Now you owe me. I expect you'll be breaking me out again the next time I get caught."

Before I could respond with a strongly worded reply to the negative, she turned a corner out of sight. With any luck, for her sake more than mine, we'd never be forced to cross paths again.

Helping Atticus to his feet, I asked, "Can you walk? Can you guide us to the nearest exit?"

He managed to stand only by leaning heavily on me to support his weight. "I can walk."

"Sure you can," I grunted.

Evidently rejuvenated by my obvious doubt, he successfully pulled away without toppling over. The glaze over his eyes gradually receded the longer my fingers stayed entwined with his, and I wondered if that was a result of whatever they dosed him with naturally running its course or if that too got fought off by my power.

Atticus grasped my hand tighter and we ran. Despite my initial concerns, he gained speed and confidence in every subsequent second that passed. Alarms started blaring a wailing call, which I presumed meant the discord I sewed had extended past today's prison guards to alert Guild above. Things were rapidly spiraling out of my control. All injuries - all death - could be traced like branches on a tree back to me and my choice to leave my cell, to release Skye, who, in turn, released everyone else.