I heard two sets of footsteps echo through the hall—one deep and heavy, like a pair of leather shoes, the other lighter and softer, like shoes made of cloth. I felt the heart beat faster with each step toward the reception desk. It almost seemed to be getting bigger. I could feel the pain every time the sprained foot took a step, but I was sure the future version of me didn’t notice because she kept walking at a steady pace.
“When asked, never give a straight answer, and if you must, give a cryptic or incomplete answer. Mystery and intrigue are your only reliable protection. You have so much gap in knowledge”
“I’m… not that good at lying.”
“I’m not teaching you to lie. I’m teaching you to be presentable.”
Gibson remained silent as we approached the reception, offering no further guidance. The beat weighed heavily on me as my gaze fixed upon the receptionist, donning a plain white mask and a red t-shirt beneath a black vest.
“Greetings, Ms. Pumpkin. My friend learned about this certain party and wishes to partake. Would you mind granting her that wish?” Gibson, from the right side, asked.
The receptionist turned her head and paused at Gibson, her mask concealing her expression. I couldn’t help but wonder if she felt annoyed by her introduction—I certainly was. Gibson emphasized the need to appear confident, but his introduction contradicted it, as it sounded more like a shy child. It made me look innocent instead, embarrassed to ask adults for help.
“Name,” the receptionist said in a flat, monotonous voice. She handed a tablet, which displayed “Name” on its screen, no extra fields.
Right hand reached out to receive the tablet, while the other hand retrieved the stylus pen from its clip on the side. However, the second hand paused and instead held the left side of the tablet. Using both thumbs, they entered the name “Debbora” before tapping the send button. The screen loaded and displayed the question, “How did you discover the meeting?” Tapping on it revealed a drop-down option, and a finger selected “Heard from a friend.” The tablet was then handed back.
The receptionist moved her hand and received it. Her mask was fixed on the screen.
“Confirmed, do you have a phone?” I felt the left hand moving until I heard Gibson said, “Stamp please.”
Her head turned toward me, waiting, before I felt the head nod.
“Very well.” She pulled the drawer before revealing a stamp. “Hand,” she asked.
I felt an arm stiffen before it pulled the white sleeve, presenting the other forearm wearing a wristwatch. The receptionist pulled the arm and stamped it, feeling the cold press of ink. When she removed the stamp, it revealed a bluish QR code, almost fading.
“Room 43, irregulars only.” Her mask turned to face Gibson. Or a glare?
“I know, I know.” Gibson raised his hands. “I bid you farewell, pumpkin.” Her mask still faced him. He smiled and turned his head in my direction before shrugging and walking towards the elevator.
He certainly had the talent to annoy anyone if he succeeded at the receptionist.
My vision moved, and I saw the receptionist peering at him before turning her head and displaying her plain mask. She waved her hand, pointing to a hallway which my vision swirled to see. A glance back and she waved her hand again, but in a shooing motion. Legs lifted and walked toward the hallway. I could feel the heart beating faster than the steps.
The head lowered, eyes fixated on the uneven tiles. With familiar experiences, I knew she was trying to divert her thoughts. And it was successful. The pounding of the heart gradually subsided until it reached its regular rhythm. However, the gaze remained fixed on the tiled floor. This kept on until the destination.
From the corner of my vision, I noticed a few potted plants. Their lifelike representation of the original, with vibrant green leaves and sturdy yet flexible stems and trunks, made them costly. It was a shame that plants had disappeared over the course of a century. They had a captivating beauty to them.
The door had a metal plaque that displayed ‘Room 43’. I read it multiple times as the body remained still, feeling the metallic weight strapped in the left leg as it kept shifting around. I felt a movement. Throat tightened before I felt a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. After a few moments, a hand was raised, tensed, then lowered before lifting the other hand to present the QR code on the door panel. The door opened, and the hand pushed, feeling the weight and unfamiliarity of using a nondominant hand. Legs lifted and walked inside the dimmed room. The door clicked, locking itself.
I saw a flying chair. It moved from one corner to another before it crashed, sending splinters everywhere.
I tensed.
“One more word, wench, and I’ll reap open that loose mouth of yours.” The man said in a gruff tone, looking down at the smiling woman as he stood tall from across the room. He wore a stylized mask with sharp teeth, a combination of metal and cloth, covering the lower half of his face but revealing his army cut and frowning gaze.
“How kinky. Call me by my name instead, Iron Fist,” the woman said in a luscious voice. She uncrossed her legs as she stood up and flicked her purple-dyed hair with a hand. Some hair settled on her masquerade mask. “They call me Fascion, as in Fascionate. Fashion is my passion, and I love fascinating things.” Her red dress fluttered briefly before the fabric lay, touching the tiled floor. Despite being smaller than Iron Fist, there was a sizeable gap in height between me and her.
Iron Fist scoffed, “You’re a joke, District B is ruled by a clown.” Despite his name, the metals only covered his lower face and forearm, as bandages wrapped the clenched fists instead. He wore pants, black shoes and a dark green tank top that hugged and outlined his muscles.
Fascion chuckled, “I’ve always recognized your skill and leadership as the Central District’s supervillain. However, it would be unwise to underestimate my own abilities. Handling the villains of the Beauty District was certainly not a joke.”
“Talk, after eating my fist.”
“Mmmm~ I’ve always yearned for a sample,” she purred. Hidden beneath her dress, metallic arms whirred to life, revealing an array of weaponry, including guns, lasers, saw blades, and more. Even her white gloves seemed to conceal additional armaments. “But despite our many encounters, I haven’t had the pleasure. Were you even attempting to impress? Your rush approach fell flat.”
A vein popped up. “I have enough.”
“20 bits on Iron Fist.” My vision moved to the man wearing a ninja-like body suit tapping on his phone.
“45 bits. 60 bits on Fascion. 100 bits on Iron fist.” One by one, people pooled some bets as they took out their phones.
Clap.
A series of slow claps echoed through the room, catching everyone’s attention. All heads turned toward the source, revealing a man. His appearance resembled that of a beggar, wearing an unbuttoned, tattered brown coat over a stained white shirt and weathered jeans. His unkempt beard and blond hair had taken on a brownish tint, and his smile showed no wrinkles. An unmasked face, no, his identity masked by a pair of translucent orange sunglasses, the only extravagant-looking detail in his outfit. Despite his skinny appearance, I noticed the toned muscles peeking through the holes in his worn and torn clothing.
“While I’m itching for a popcorn-filled clash of supervillains, let’s first extend our warmest welcome to our diviner guest.” He gestured with a sweeping motion of his hand.
I saw the heads turn, following the direction of his hand and ending in my direction. I felt a sudden rush of blood. It filled the head, making it heavier and clouded. A heavy beating in the chest. And itchy hands, unmoving near the metal strapped in the left leg and the taser at the waist as the right hand already grasped it.
Eyes landed in my direction and even though I wasn’t the one receiving the attention. I felt the stress building up as the breathing became harder and the hands trembled, ready to pull out the weapons.
“Just introduce yourself. That’s all you need to do.” His mouth formed a thin smile.
I felt a small breath in and out.
“Debbora,” the throat rasped, and the room fell into hushed anticipation, waiting for further elaboration. “That’s… all.”
“Go home, kid.” I felt a flinch. Eyesight moved to Iron Fist’s deep frown glare. The legs trembled. “You’re not welcome at my meeting.”
“Now, now champ. Let’s give her a chance,” the beggar man said. His arm went under his tattered coat and fished out a colorized paper. “I’m willing to use my indebted paper.”
“You’re joking, Ledross.” Iron Fist glared at the man with tattered clothes.
“Not exactly. Just intrigued,” Ledross stated. His eyes, hidden behind translucent glasses, and his thin smile were fixed, unchanging.
“You can keep her. Diviners don’t fit my taste.” Fascion frowned, her expression shifting for the first time. “Their innocence tempts me to corrupt, but their attitude lacks appeal.”
“That hurt to hear, love. Don’t mind them, girl, come, have a chat with me. I won’t do anything. I can promise you that,” He said with no change in his expression.
I felt the left ankle slightly lifted backward before the pain jolted me out. Only then that I recognized what Gibson meant. He wanted to prevent looking weak against Iron Fist. Or to get someone to help us. But the future me was still scared as the other foot lifted and stepped back. I wanted her to stay, but I also couldn’t handle the pressure as well. In fact, I wanted her to leave fast.
The body jerked as the shoulder felt a touch.
“Hey sis! Want to sit with us?”
Thea?
Heart thumped faster. Head swiveled in a blur and I saw a blonde girl instead of a redhead. The sight caused my excitement to fade as the body deflated. The blonde reached out, taking hold of the right wrist and pulling gently.
She turned around and revealed a ticket-like paper, the same one Ledross held. “Will this do?”
“Fine.”
“Come, I’ll show you to our table.”
She pulled the hand and the body followed. A sharp pain shot through the ankle and I could feel a grit of teeth.
“Shame.” Ledross pocketed his paper. Despite his words, he maintained the same almost linear smile.
Chatter filled the room, voices blending with the background electric guitar solo. As people in costumes conversing around the tables, eyes still either linger or constantly shift to look in my direction. I felt the head lowering, taking in the figure of the blonde instead. She wore a black bodysuit, outlining her curvy body, from neck to bottom with a zipper on her back.
She stopped in front of an occupied table. A figure clad in dark, sleek armor sat on the chair, arms crossed. His head concealed within a smooth dark steel helmet, its surfaces mostly flat. A deep blue visor, crafted from tinted glass, slotted into the hollowed area of the helmet, reflecting the dimmed light of the room. Beside him resembled a huge mallet, head on the floor, made of gray metals with black trims.
In a deep, resonant voice that echoed within the metal enclosure, I heard a man’s voice spoke up. “I told you not to draw attention—”
“My bad. I messed up, alright?” she interrupted. I felt her fingers tightening around the wrist. “I won’t do it again”
He sat there unmoving until his helmet faced the ceiling. His pauldrons heaved and a low grumbling sound resonated. “You took her in. She’s your responsibility,” he said as he moved his helmet back, facing the center of the table. “I’ll keep her safe while she’s with us.”
“Thanks, Cavalier,” she replied. The figure clad in armor simply replied with a deep grunt.
The blonde, wearing a domino mask, faced me, “Take a seat,” and pulled a seat for herself. The right hand pulled a chair before sitting. There were two remaining chairs left. Both hands moved under the table. I felt a slight pull on the sleeve and the head lowered and saw the wristwatch. 4:48 pm.
“Sorry for pulling you suddenly, if that’s not what you wanted.” She took the pitcher and filled the glass near me.
“No, thank you. I really appreciate it.”
The shaky hand took the glass of water. Slightly lifting the veil before taking a drink. I felt the cold water pass through the throat with each gulp. I could feel the heartbeats stabilizing.
“Calmed down?”
“… Yes,” placing the glass back on the table.
“They really put you in a bad spot.”
“I—I’m really thankful.”
“You’re welcome. So, Debbora right? Call me Miss Behave,” like misbehave? She presented her hand, and it took some time before the right hand moved to shake it.
“Nice to meet you… Miss Behave.”
“Nice to meet you too, Debbora. Now, I’m sure you have some questions, right?”
“… What is that paper?”
“The IOU paper? Well, Iron Fist always hands out one for jobs needing specialized power. It also pays well, but he rarely hands out special jobs.”
“I see… What’s your power?”
“Ah, ah, ah.” Her index finger moved left and right. “We wait for our two other members before introducing our powers.”
“Right…” I felt the lips quivering and the heart rate picking up. “Do—do you know someone with red—” The mouth clamped.
“I’m guessing it’s your reason for attending the meeting.”
…
Miss Behave sighed.
“What else do you want to know?”
“… Why am I hated?”
“Because we hated your type.”
I felt the eyes widen as I saw her smiling face turned to frown.
“Sorry, among the categories of Irregular, we only hated diviners. They’re special, adored by everyone, sure. They are the epitome of kindness and compassion, so people love them. But we hated their constant yammering mouths. They didn’t realize the weight their words carry.”
“Because diviners call you evil?”
“You don’t understand the weight your words carry, do you?”
“… I don’t”
She smiled. “I assume you don’t understand how unnaturalness works as well. Public perception defines Irregulars, tremendously. Even through constant training, it does not improve our powers and skills. This is why we have the annual staged fight. It was the best time to showcase growth, as everyone gets to brawl.”
“But, that doesn’t—”
“It does. We are called evil, so we are perceived as evil, and that fucked our personalities. You don’t know how annoying not knowing if your terrible decisions were yours or the unnatural wanted to fuck your life just to be evil.”
I felt a flinch.
“I’m—”
“Don’t. You were unaffiliated if my guess was correct, so I don’t blame you. I hate the one on the hero associations.”
“… Why not join the heroes?”
“We are not lapdogs.” She said in a slightly raised tone.
...
She sighed before shrugging. “Well, enough of that. I will be asking a single question as well. Why attend the meeting?”
“… It’s… a secret.” I felt the throat vibrate. I could feel the thumping on the left chest.
“Debbora, you experienced it firsthand. You’re not welcome here, and you don’t want to be left unprotected. The market pays heftily for a lost teenage diviner girl. ”
The body tensed.
“That being said, I’m not a villain, but a neutral. I still hate diviners, but I don’t harbor that same animosity. And I kind of hate charity so, here’s the deal. Tell me why we should keep you or I will call a driver for you.”
The silence lingered longer before I felt the hand unclenching the hold on the gun. I didn’t notice. My vision held on the table for a moment before a breath filled in the lungs and slowly released. I heard a sound, startling me. Miss Behave started a rhythmic tapping on the table. I felt the head lifting and saw her uncaring face.
“Don’t mind me. I’ll await your decision.”
I felt another breath before eyes closed and felt a silent mutter, but with familiarity, I recognized the words from the way the lips formed to recite two verses.
Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.
Do not steal. Do not lie. Do not deceive one another.
Eyes opened, and a deep breath happened, which was loud enough to make me feel concerned it was heard.
“No,” said in a lowered tone. “I don’t trust you.”
Miss Behave frowned while Cavalier turned his face towards me and spoke in his deep, resonant voice.
“You don’t understand the position you—”
“I do, but I don’t trust her words at face value. People needed reasons to help, whether it was compassion, pity, greed or something else. She just popped up and started demanding information from me.” I could feel the heart racing faster and faster. The head turned toward Miss Behave. “You tell me your reason for helping. I tell mine for joining. Fair exchange.”
“Girl—”
“Oh, you know how to speak the language of villains. Alright, I can accept that.”
Cavalier turned his head, “Miss Behave—”
“There is nothing wrong with her reason.” She spoke in a serious tone.
Cavalier sighed and grunted. “Your story, yours to tell.”
“I know.” Miss Behave smiled. “To put it simply, I have a religious friend.”
I felt a spike in heartbeats, two hearts racing with unsynchronized thumps.
Thea?
“She’s as quiet and as untrusting as you are before we became friends. I couldn’t even approach her because I loved talking, and she hated socializing. So paint me surprised me when she took a seat beside me and listened to me talking all day. She became my sweetest friend after that.”
I could feel the mouth opening and closing. No speech coming out.
“So, I helped you. Now, share your reason for joining this meeting.”
I wanted to save you. Pull you out of this meeting and lock you in my room.
“Deciding what information to share? It’s fine. I can wait.”
Don’t wait here, Thea. You will die tonight.
I felt the head swerve, looking at the right forearm, and saw 4:32 pm. 1 hour and 30 more minutes before the meeting starts.
I heard a creaking sound. I felt the head turning, and I saw people in colored bodysuits entering through the door. There were at least eight of them who entered. Others took notice and turned to face the newcomers. These newcomers replicated the original series with colored themes, the so-called rangers.
“‘Sup, like last year, we will help orchestrate the event.”
“Vigilantes.”
The man in a red body suit walked closer and faced Iron Fist. They had a standoff before Iron fist presented his hand and the man shook it.
“You will defeat some of my men and save some hostages. That should give you a boost in popularity.”
“Magnificent, but we have some new ideas we wanted to try, if you don’t mind.”
“Very well. Take a seat and we will start the meeting.”
What?
“Those who have not yet arrived, ask others for details. I hate waiting.”
