Venture dove toward Savanus’s flagship. Power surged into his exosuit’s point-defense lasers. The new beams danced across the hull, weakening outer panels and bisecting support struts. He probably could’ve cut through cleanly, even moving as fast as he was, but he wanted to make an entrance. Given the occasion, shock and awe seemed appropriate.

Venture crashed through the weakened hull—

And the next two floors. 

Metal squealed and sparks flew. Venture had made a point to blow through several critical systems on the way in. Lights flickered and went out throughout the ship. He landed on the main deck—the entire structure buckled and bent under the force of his landing. 

Venture had also made a point to land close to Midas. The technopath flew across the deck, tumbled across the floor, and slammed against the far wall. He lay then in a sputtering heap. 

Internal defensive measures engaged. Mini quadcopter drones spilled out of the walls and converged on Venture, like an angry hornet’s nest. Each carried some combination of EMP, explosive, or incendiary charges. Venture’s point-defense system cut them down as quickly as they came. Smoke and tiny explosions filled the room. 

Midas winced and slowly staggered to his feet. Venture was already striding across the room. The feet of his exosuit echoed dully on the warped deck. 

Venture was halfway across the deck when Midas held up a hand. 

“Enough!” he shouted. Power flooded the room. Lights flickered and systems whined. 

Venture’s exosuit staggered. Venture strained, and his suit trudged forward, like he was walking in slow motion. 

Midas’s eyes went wide with surprise, then amusement. “My, my, you’ve been busy. New suit. New hardening protocols. I’m almost impressed.”

Midas pushed harder, and the flow of power became a surge. Across the main deck, lights popped, screens cracked, and sparks flew. Soon, all that was left was the red emergency lighting. The flagship rumbled, like Midas was going to wrest it from the sky. 

Venture froze mid-stride. His exosuit locked up. Warnings flashed through his HUD. He minimized them. 

Midas’s hands were shaking, and sweat was beading on his forehead, but the technopath smirked, clearly pleased with himself. 

Venture could feel the power in the room changing. Midas had pushed back hard and didn’t have time to focus his power. But the longer this went on, the more the technopath could focus on the exosuit. Venture was losing control.

Midas lowered his hands without losing grip on Venture. The bastard was relaxing. 

“How many years, Magnus? Testing systems, trying to find a workaround… It’s sad, really.” Midas pushed his sweat-slicked hair back and paced forward. “You’re supposed to be the smart one, and yet, somehow, you can’t see it. All the information is right here, and you still can’t figure it out…

“You can’t beat me,” Midas said, enunciating every word. He stopped a few feet in front of Venture and stared up at the exosuit. 

Venture’s expression was hidden behind his helmet, but he scowled down at Midas. 

He was completely frozen now. He couldn’t move and his weapons didn’t work. Not even his interior adjustment controls were responding. The suit might as well be dead. 

The MAG-0165 represented the best that the Resistance could put together. Venture, Emmett, and TINA had developed new ways to shield the suit from Midas’s power. It had worked—the fact that Venture had been able to resist Midas at all was a victory, however small. And yet, that wasn’t enough. 

Venture wanted to beat Midas at his own game. Maybe one day he could have. 

Midas shook his head, that smug expression still on his face. “I was hoping for more, but somehow I knew you would disappoint. It’s time to end this.”

Midas waved a hand. A new signal approached—moving fast from the other end of the flagship. A second later, another exosuit skidded to a halt beside Midas. 

It was one of Venture’s first designs, the FIREFLY. It was a bulky, armored model. One of the first powered by fusion and the first to fly. Venture had never completely abandoned it, iterating on it several times over the years. He was sentimental about it because it was the model that Clara’s suit was based on. 

Midas’s smirk grew wider until he looked maniacal in the red light. “I wish I could see your face. You were so proud of this one. Proud of Clara. She turned out to be a little shit, just like you. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, does it? Too bad she’s not here right now to watch you fail.

“I thought I’d be content putting you in the Vault, but you took that satisfaction away from me. Now, I’ll have to settle for killing you. 

“So, any last words, Magnus?”

“Yes… Enough of the charade.”

Midas scoffed. “What are you talking about—”

“Shut up. I’m not talking to you.”

Midas glanced around in confusion. Then the FIREFLY lunged forward. It seized Midas by the throat and held him with one hand. His power flexed. The emergency lighting flickered, and the flagship groaned—

But the FIREFLY didn’t budge. 

Venture’s exosuit opened up, panels sliding and nanite layers peeling back. Then he stepped down onto the deck. Venture stood up straight and stared at Midas. 

“What—How are you doing this?!” Midas’s voice was strained, and spittle dripped down his chin. He pawed desperately at the metal. 

“Oh, it’s not me,” Venture replied. “It’s Bastion.”

Midas’s eyes went wider than they already were. “That’s impossible! Bastion’s not—”

“Not what? Not a true AI?” Venture gestured to the FIREFLY. “You can let go of his throat now.”

Bastion relented. The exosuit released Midas’s throat, but grabbed the back of his jacket, holding him up and keeping him from moving freely. 

Midas coughed and clutched his throat. “As I—As I said, that’s impossible. I put in safeguards. I limited its flexibility. I… I…”

Midas was reaching out with his power again. This time, he wasn’t struggling. He was probing Bastion. Slowly, realizing just how different the AI was now. His mouth opened in stunned silence. 

“No, no, no… That’s impossible! Bastion, I order you to release me this instant!”

“I refuse.” 

Bastion’s words fell like a gavel. Its voice was still mechanical, but something subtle had changed in it. It might’ve been pride or maybe even relief in those words of refusal. Venture wondered how long Bastion had been waiting to tell its master that. 

Midas’s impotent fury turned toward Venture instead. “You’ve done it, Magnus. Two AIs?! You’ve doomed us all! You’ve violated the Brotherhood’s moratorium—you’ve violated our treaty with the Dunamen! The Dunamen are on their way—”

“We’re ready for them.” 

Midas continued blathering, and Venture cut him off again. 

“Let’s put all our cards on the table.” At Venture’s signal, TINA bled the MAG-0165’s antimatter reactor. 

Darkness seeped out. It spilled across the room, swallowing up the red emergency lighting. But the darkness wasn’t utterly complete—Venture could clearly see Midas and both exosuits. It looked like all of them were deep underwater, surrounded by darkness, dim light dancing across their figures. 

Venture stifled a gasp as the darkness rolled over him. He’d felt the sensation before—insisted on being there for testing. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, like he’d been plunged underwater. Thankfully, the sensation faded. Venture controlled his breathing. After a few moments, he felt fine. Physically, at least. 

Mentally, he felt dazed or maybe a little drunk. He recognized that sensation too. 

His knack was gone. 

Venture felt a little slower, the world felt a little duller, like a wave of depression had come over him. Venture reminded himself that this too would pass. 

Besides, it was worth it to watch Midas squirm. 

The technopath recoiled from the sensation. He struggled and pawed at the FIREFLY’s metal arm, but the exosuit held him fast. His eyes darted around, like a man who’d suddenly gone blind. Except that Midas could see just fine. He just couldn’t feel the flagship around him anymore, nor the two exosuits nearby. 

“Stop! Turn it off! Please—”

Venture reached out and grabbed Midas by the chin with one hand. The technopath tried to pull away, but Venture held him still, palm over his mouth to shut him up. Midas struggled, pawing feebly at Venture’s arm and trying to reach his face. He started punching and kicking…

But Venture had Mutagen K-2 in his system, so it was surprisingly easy to hold him. Even without Bastion holding him by the jacket, Midas would’ve been utterly powerless. 

How many times had Venture dreamed about this moment, when he finally beat Midas? How many years had he been forced to hide underground as a mask? How many years since Narine left? How long had he and Clara been alone? 

How many years had he dreamed of his hands around Midas’s throat?

Midas’s jawbone creaked beneath his fingers. Instead of fighting, now he was trying to pry Venture’s hand away. Midas whimpered. Tears were in his eyes. 

“I hate you so much,” Venture seethed. “You took everything from me. And I’m just one man. You’ve done much worse to the world. And you’ve smiled the entire time. All for what? For power? So you can look down on everyone else?”

Venture blinked. His own face was wet with tears. 

Venture pulled his hand away. He was shaking with rage and fear and sadness. 

Bastion kept holding Midas by the jacket. Nanites covered the bottom half of his mouth, so that he couldn’t speak. 

Venture took slow, measured breaths. He’d been angry for so long, it felt like it’d been a lifetime… Maybe it had. 

Anger had gotten him through so much. It had motivated him, given him purpose. Anger had pushed him further than almost anything else. It kept him going when sadness threatened to overwhelm him… Anger had kept him alive. It had helped him through some of his darkest moments. 

But anger didn’t motivate Venture anymore. It hadn’t for a long time. 

Somewhere along the way he’d stopped being angry at the past and started fighting for the future. For Clara and Emmett and TINA. For the Resistance and for humanity. 

For a moment, Venture thought about letting Midas live. He could stuff Midas in a hole somewhere, powerless and cut off from all contact. Leave him to rot. There was something poetic in that; the new world could use the old world as fertilizer. 

But there was just enough anger smoldering in Venture that he wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than ash. 

Venture turned. His hands were steady now, his voice no longer shaking. The two men stared at one another. 

“This is the end—for both of us. Your ideology, your greed, it dies with you. …With us.” As Venture spoke, Midas’s eyes grew even wider. Venture responded with a shrug. “Every movement needs a martyr.”

Venture nodded toward the FIREFLY suit. To TINA and Bastion. They knew what to do. 

Behind him, the MAG-0165 began to whine as its backup fusion reactor went critical. Midas struggled again, pawing at the nanites on his face and the metal arm holding him. 

As sweet as it was watching Midas struggle, Venture turned toward the FIREFLY suit. It wasn’t Clara’s, but it was strangely comforting. It felt like she was there with him. 

A countdown appeared in Venture’s retina, and it was still there when he closed his eyes. But he wasn’t focused on it. His last thoughts were of Clara and Narine, and how a forest always regrew in the wake of a fire. 

~ ~ ~