Even through power armor, a pile of gravel isn’t a comfy place to sit.

According to the readout of Skye’s mask, it’s 3:30 AM now, two hours to sunrise. She’s had the whole night’s worth to think things through, and quite frankly has had more than enough thinking to last a lifetime. The important thing is, one way or another, the fighting will be over for good tonight.

“Yoo-hoo!” Marco’s unmistakable voice calls from the upper lip of the gravel pit. “Is that you?” Not waiting for an answer, he slides down the loose scree making up the quarry’s wall, completely ruining his white pants with dust. “It is! I knew I’d find you here.”

Ugh. She’d forgotten just how much Marco is to deal with. Rising to her feet, Skye nods. “Thank you for coming.”

“And thank you for the invite!” As he uselessly brushes himself off, Marco looks around in awe. “You sure know how to pick ‘em. The quarry that I named Quorium after, now the site of our final battle. Giving me chills, over here!” He actually does pantomime a shiver.

“Here are my terms,” Skye says firmly, brushing past his antics. “The first one to detransform, whether teleporting out or forced by damage, forfeits all Quorium they or their company owns to the winner.” Simple, straightforward, no loopholes.

“Well, let me say this to start,” Marco replies, grinning ear-to-ear as he makes a reference, “I’m pretty darn strong!” From his pocket, he withdraws his changer, clipping it onto his left wrist rather than his belt. “Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this? Last chance to compromise!”

If Skye’s eyes were visible, she’d be rolling them. “Quite certain.”

“I mean it, Horizon.” Marco’s tone cools a bit, his energy focusing. “I really, really don’t want to fight you.”

“Well, if it’s all the same to you, I do want to fight you, actually.” Not that I’m proud of it.  “I can’t let you do as you wish any longer.” Skye runs one last checkup as she talks, looking over her fuel tanks and joint articulation. 

“Is that right? I could have said the exact same thing to you.” Marco’s humor is fading rapidly. “But if you insist…” In one sharp motion, he clicks a button on his changer and points it skyward. “Henshin!”

“Omni On!” His changer completes the call-and-response, and microscopic red particles begin to filter onto his skin and clothes, clumps of them initially mistakable for lint. His transformation proceeds much quicker than Sky Horizon’s – within just ten seconds, he’s fully clad in a Marco-sized copy of the Omni Horizon outfit, distinguished only by a pointed crest on his forehead. His transformation isn’t done, though – as soon as the suit is complete, his changer shouts “Omni Boost Max!”, a white glow emanating from his insignia, gloves and boots.

Skye grimaces inwardly. “Let me hazard a guess; It’s always under the effects of Boost?”

“You better believe it! All thanks to the field research of my teammates.” The suit’s endorphin rush is clearly getting to Marco – he’s bouncing up and down like a caffeinated toddler. “The endless sunrise!” He calls the words as he raises both of his arms outward – that’s what he was doing back in the office, the Goranger pose. “Omni Red! Fighting on behalf of… Omni Horizon!” He strikes the same pose again – it doesn’t quite work without a team there to pose alongside him.

Skye can’t just let that slide. “Do you not understand the point of a red ranger?”

“Of course!” Marco stretches his muscles, no doubt bursting with energy. “The red is the strongest and the one in charge.”

“No, moron,” Skye snaps, hopped up on frustration, adrenaline, and the exhaustion of an all-nighter. “The red is the leader, their power is their friends, they don’t throw their team into fights just so they can make themselves stronger.”

“And sometimes, a leader has to make sacrifices.” Checkup complete, Marco slowly walks forward. “Thanks to their efforts, I finally have the power to stop your reign of terror for good.” He’s just stringing random sentences together now, apparently.

“Fine,” Skye grouses. “Bring it on.” She lifts her fists, takes three steps forward, and is smashed across the face by a fist moving at 44 MPH.

---

 

“Ow!” Kit hops up and down, foot throbbing in pain where it banged against the coffee table. “Son of a-”

“Kit?” Alice’s voice is hoarse. Though the room is dark, it’s not hard to assume she was lying on the couch just a second ago.

“Crap. Hey, Alice, sorry for waking you up. I was getting some water, and…” Kit shakes out their foot a bit for good measure. “You know.”

Alice grunts noncommittally, flicking the lamp on. “I wasn’t able to fall asleep anyway. It’s not a big deal.”

“Couldn’t sleep?” Carefully, Kit sits down on the chair opposite the couch. “What, everything okay?”

“No? Of course not! What kind of question even is that?” Almost immediately, Alice is in their face, spitting fire. After a second, however, she seems to find herself, slumping back into the couch. “Things went bad with Skye. Really bad. What were you thinking, putting us on the spot like that?”

“Uh.” Kit blinks, forcing themself to wake up the rest of the way. “I guess I wasn’t thinking it’d be… yeah, no, I guess I wasn’t thinking. Sorry.”

“You should be,” Alice sniffs.

Kit, remembering what they got up for, stands and heads to the sink, filling a cup of water and taking a swig before speaking up. “...You want to talk about it?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Alice sighs, burying her face in her hands. “I screwed up big time. Like, big time big time. I had a bunch of things to say to Skye that felt really good and true and important in the moment, like I had to get it off my chest, but when I look back on it now, it’s just a big ball of, I don’t know…” Alice flops over, lying along the couch. “Resentment or something.”

“Or something.” Kit cautiously takes another sip of their water, careful to keep their tone gentle. “Do you really resent Skye?”

“Kind of? I’m not proud of it, but… I dunno.” Alice coughs, her throat sore. Kit immediately turns to the cabinet to grab her another glass of water, prompting her to smile weakly. “Thanks. I don’t know if resent is the right word, but… she’s smart, she’s principled, she’s got a degree, and it’s infuriating to see her put all her gifts into just spinning her wheels.” Once Kit places her water in front of her, she takes a nice long sip. “I mean, she’s even prettier than me at this point, and I had a twenty year head start on her.”

Kit, having nodded along this whole time, opens their mouth a bit at the last part. “Y’know, that doesn’t exactly sound like resentment to me. More like you’re, I dunno, envious of what she has? Does that track?”

Apparently it does – Alice goes very quiet. When she does speak, it’s only after a vicious hiccup. “Damn it. Did I ever actually have a crush on her, or was it just jealousy the whole time?”

“It can be both,” Kit says soothingly before realizing that’s probably not what she needed to hear.

“God. Ugh,” Alice hiccups. “I’m gonna have to have another talk with her first thing in the morning. Is she still asleep in her room?”

“Uh. No?” Kit tilts their head. “I thought she was sleeping out here on the air mattress.” Kit gestures with their good hand to the conspicuously empty air mattress.

The two share a long, horrified look.

“You don’t think-”

“She said she was going out for patrols.”

“Gotcha. You scan the airwaves, I’ll get my truck and look for her.”

---

 

Skye grunts, feeling a kick scrape against her torso. Another glancing blow, but they’re still adding up – her stamina is already flagging, while she’s barely landed a handful of good hits on Marco.

Focus on resources at hand. He may be twice as strong, twice as agile, twice as resilient, and have twice my reflexes, but at the very least I have my jets. The issue there, of course, is that even a Jet Punch probably won’t be able to match the strength he commands at all times.

“Look, don’t tell me you don’t see the logic,” Marco calls, backing off in between skirmishes. “It’s the basic trolley problem – accept doing some harm in order to do more good!”

“That’s not how the trolley problem works at all,” Skye spits, hurriedly scanning the landscape – flat open gravel as far as the eye can see. Quarries work great when you’re a director looking for a safe place to set off pyrotechnics, but they’re nowhere near as helpful when you’re in an actual fight and need cover.

“Sure it is!” Marco leans way in with a series of punches, talking with each jab. “For every thousand people who get hurt by Quorium weapons, a million more are gonna have their lives saved by Quorium medical tech!”

Skye ducks and rolls before engaging from behind. “You can’t possibly have proof that that’s true!” Her thrusters ignite as she delivers a mighty blow.

Marco catches it on his shoulder, grunting only slightly. “But you don’t have proof that it isn’t true, either!” Spinning in the blink of an eye, he sends Skye tumbling with a kick to the solar plexus. “And as the naysayer, the burden of proof lies on you.”

Skye groans, rising to her feet before Marco can kick her while she’s down. “That’s not remotely what the burden of proof means, either.” There was something off about that last spin-kick. A weakness, maybe? She needs to pay closer attention. “Look, if a given piece of technology could be used to harm innocents, one way or another it will.”

“Not ours, though!” Marco brushes himself off, lunging with a sliding kick. “I’m going to be right there every step of the way to make sure it’s used for good.”

“It doesn’t matter in the least how good your intentions are!” Skye leaps over the attack, already moving to block his next move. “Take robotics, for example. I know for a fact your suit has an internet connection – look up the statistics on drone warfare.”

“And leave myself open? You wish!” Marco jukes left and right before stepping in for an over-the-top uppercut, catching Skye square on the chin. “I think I see what’s going on now. Your problem, Sky Horizon, is that you don’t have hope. You lack faith in humanity’s ability to overcome evil.”

“What?”

“If you had your way, you’d hoard all the technology in the world to yourself, and leave the rest of the world in a Dark Age!” Marco leaps at her, arm swinging in a wild haymaker. Even with his eye-watering speed, even with Skye caught off guard, it’s a simple matter to slip under the blow.

That’s it. He’s not fighting like a martial artist – he’s fighting like an actor. Subconsciously telegraphing his moves, showing a good angle to an imaginary camera – it’s like if you took a Shakespearean swordfighter’s actor and put them in a knife fight. More than likely, everything he knows about combat actually does come from superhero shows.

Marco skids to a stop, bobbling his landing before a Jet Punch to the back of his head drops him to a knee. “Ugh. Not a bad trick. But I won’t let you stop me that easily.” Reaching to his changer, he clicks a button, prompting his suit to shimmer briefly. When the change is complete, he looks exactly the same, save for the sword in his right hand – short, light, and with a cherry red blade. “I’ve got some tricks of my own.”

“Very nice,” Skye says entirely unenthusiastically. “How much did that toy cost your team? A thousand dollars? Ten?”

“Beats me,” Marco laughs as he swings the blade back and forth, acclimating to the weight. “It’s all taxpayer subsidized anyway. Now, let’s go!” He charges, flailing the sword every which way.

“My point is that you could have spent the money on-” Skye dodges out of the way, and the blade just barely nicks her arm – but on contact with the suit, vicious pain lances through her body, all but immobilizing her for a moment. Against her will, she lets out a shriek.

“Ooh, did I getcha?” Marco points the blade dramatically. “Say hello to the Skysplitter Saber – named it myself. See, thanks to your bodyguard we found out all about the weaknesses of Quorium suits.” He follows up with a kick, knocking Skye back. “Now do you agree that it was worth it to send the others at you for field research?”

Though both agonizing and highly damaging to the suit, the blade’s pain is temporary – by the time Skye returns to her feet, it’s faded to a dull ache in her limbs. “You’re not even pretending you’re not making weapons anymore,” she spits, shaking her arm out.

“All for the greater good,” Marco retorts, before lunging.

---

 

“I dunno,” Alice murmurs, scrolling through social media for any mention of Sky Horizon. “I’ve tried therapy before, and I don’t really know if it’s for me – at least, it didn’t help in the way everyone seemed to expect it to.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Kit’s voice comes through over the phone – it’s been ages since Alice ever talked to anyone via a call rather than on radio. “I’m not saying that it’s some magical fix-your-problems button, Ravi just mentioned it gave him a lot of perspective that he then used himself to help himself. Y’know?”

“I guess?” Yet another fanblog turned up a blank – on to the next one. “Like, realistically the biggest issue is that I feel like I don’t have a life outside of you guys, but you guys have lives outside of me.” She scoops up a handful of pretzels as she talks – no matter who she’s navigating for, some old habits die hard. “Hanging out with your other friends was cool, but I still felt like I was on the outside.”

“Gotcha. Then why – dude, it is FIVE in the MORNING, there is NO reason to tailgate me – ahem. Then why don’t you just find a new friend group? Join a book club, or a bowling league, or whatever.”

“You make it sound so easy, you know that?” Well, this search was a dead end. Again. Time for a break. Alice clicks on the TV for some background noise. “If ‘just make friends with random people’ was something I could do, literally none of this would ever have happened.”

“Hey, I was just random people to you, wasn’t I?” Over the call, the sound of Kit pulling up to a red light is faintly audible. 

Alice laughs, half-watching the random news program she pulled up on the TV. “You were ‘people that robbed a bank’ to me. I think that’s pretty different, don’t you?”

“Ahh, give yourself more credit, Alice. If you can make nice with the bank robber that electrocuted your BFF, you can make nice with anyone.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding.”

“What? Did I say something stupid again?” Kit sounds genuinely remorseful for once.

“No, no, not that.” With a few clicks, Alice casts the TV’s news program to her computer, then sends a link to Kit. “Look at this clip.”

“Yeah, alright. Let me pull over first.” Kit parks, and in a few seconds their silky laugh is audible over speakerphone. “Oh, man. Roughhousing in a mine, eh? I didn’t know there were idiots out this early.”

“The whole clip, Kit,” Alice says through clenched teeth.

“Alright, alright, starting it up again.” Kit chuckles, but soon stops. “Oh. Oh god. That’s our idiot, isn’t it.” Immediately, the speaker phone picks up Kit revving the truck back up. “Gimme their location.”

“Already sent it.” Alice chews at her lip. “Get there fast. I don’t want to have to call another ambulance.”

---

 

Marco growls, sweeping his blade at Skye’s legs. “Look, Horizon, you talk a good game, but you’re not gonna convince me.” His attack connects with nothing but air, and he steps back. “This power should belong to everyone.”

“If ‘war is bad’ isn’t convincing enough to you, then frankly I don’t know what would be,” Skye retorts, waiting for his next move. She’s making progress and slowly wearing him down, but she has a long way to go – and if Marco catches her once, that may well be it.

“See, that’s the thing, though!” Marco gesticulates with his sword before bringing it down in an overhead chop. “I think that you’re trying to come up with all these moralizations after the fact – your real reason for fighting me on this is just because you want to be the only one with cool toys.”

Skye laughs incredulously as she steps inside his reach, landing a knee strike to the abdomen. “This from the man who stole my schematics and then made his very own team of human action figures?”

“Hey, my team is doing important research!” Marco shoves Skye away, unable to use his sword effectively at point blank range. “Research that you could be a part of, if you got over your ego!”

“Please.” Skye skids back, the sheer force of Marco’s shove making her bobble on her feet. “You could have done that without frittering away thousands on superhero roleplay, and especially without trying to recruit me as one of your actors.”

“Oh, quit preaching. Pretending to be a hero is all you do with your time, in case you forgot.” Ice prickles through Skye’s veins as Marco hits on a sore spot. “Speaking of which, about those schematics of yours – I saw the dates on ‘em.” He circles her carefully, no longer as reckless.

“I’m not sure I see your point,” Skye replies, staring at the tip of his blade.

“You made the suit waaaay before you started actually appearing publicly, didn’t you? Like, years before you bothered helping anyone, you were using that sucker for joyrides.”

Skye bristles. “That’s not…” That’s not what? True? It is true, though.

Marco perks up at her reaction. “I got it, didn’t I? You made Sky Horizon for the fun of it, and then you felt bad, so you use it to help little old ladies cross the street, as if that actually matters in the grand scheme of things.” His words pry open wounds he can’t have known Skye was nursing, and she stumbles. Marco presses his advantage, swinging his sword artlessly but viciously as he pushes her back. “And now you’re trying to tell me I’m in the wrong for saving lives? Gimme a break.”

What is the moral thing to do? If he’s not wrong, then the right thing to do is simply surrender – and he’s right, dead right, about how Sky Horizon came to be. Was all of this, from the beginning, out of a sense of misguided superiority? That can’t be true, can it? And yet-

“Time to end this.” Skye’s line of thought is interrupted by Marco crowing, lifting his sword high over his head. “Let’s make a show of it, Skye!”

Immediately, as though acting on instinct, Skye slips around the blade, catching Marco’s arm just as he twists it for a second strike. Her jets flare, forcing his arm back enough that his grip opens, allowing Skye to fling the sword half a mile across the quarry.

I’m being selfish by fighting any further. This is a mistake.

Marco gasps and falls back, clutching at his arm. “What did you – How did you do that?”

“You quoted a show and then did the sword move from that show.” Skye shrugs, desperately hoping her guilt doesn’t show through. “I could block it, so I did.”

“Smug little…” Marco growls, charging once more. “What do I have to say to get it through to you? You’re! Not! The good guy!” Skye dodges around his first two blows, but his absurd reflexes allow him to catch her in the shoulder on the third. “I’m trying so hard to do the right thing, I’m showing you mercy and second chances every single time I can, and you keep throwing them back in my face!”

He’s right, some part of Skye notes. We deserve this. It’s drowned out, however, by a rising tide of emotion, bubbling up higher with every word Marco says. Anger. How dare he say this to me, it hisses. He doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about. Skye clenches her fists, priming to unload her thrusters.

“Because here’s the thing, right, Horizon,” Marco continues heedless, “I forgive you! I’ve made more than my fair share of mistakes, and I want to move past them, and so can you!” Voice pleading, arms at his side, he steps forward. “I mean it. I just want to be your friend.”

Skye can barely talk over the bile in her metaphorical throat. When she does find the words, they come out choked and half-garbled through her vocoder. “If you’re my friend…” Skye unloads her thrusters, unleashing an almighty Jet Punch directly towards Marco’s smug face. “Then why have you sold your soul to the devil?!”

Her punch carries her feet off the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust as she feels her fist impact against something solid.

“Sold my… huh?” Marco’s voice is barely perturbed, more confused than anything. The dust clears, revealing him having caught Skye’s fist in his left hand. After a few moments of confusion, he perks up. “Oh, a Liveman reference! I get it. Nice one.”

“...what?”

“Anyways,” Marco continues, wrist shaking as he pushes back against the force of Skye’s still-blasting rockets, “Not bad, you almost had me. In the end, though, I had just one more trick up my sleeve than you did.” With his free right hand, he reaches over and clicks the changer on his wrist, his sword reappearing in hand just a moment later.

He’s going to kill me. “No,” Skye breathes. I think we may deserve it.

“Sorry, but the good guys win this round.” With that, Marco swings for the fences.

---

 

The first thing Skye is aware of is the feeling of gravel scraping against her body as she skids to a stop. Not only did that last blow send her flying, it appears her suit was dissipated before she even hit the ground. Lying down is a mercy, even if her skin is torn bloody in uncountable places.

The second thing Skye is aware of is the sound of stones crunching under Omni Red’s boots as he strolls up to her. “Sorry about that,” he calls as he approaches. “Don’t know my own strength, and all that.” He finally steps up, looking down concerned at her for a split second before bursting out laughing.

The third thing Skye is aware of is that she no longer has her mask.

“Sorry,” Marco sniggers, laughter coming through his vocoder harsh and electronic, “Sorry, I just… Wow. I don’t know what I expected when I finally saw the real you, but that is not it, dang.” He taps a finger against the side of his helmet. “Yo, Pamela, can I get a face scan on this guy? Thanks muchly.” Turning his attention back to Skye, he shakes his head back and forth. “I mean, jeez. I knew that the suits could change how you looked and sounded, obviously, but this is something else.”

This is wrong. Skye is not here. “Please… stop.” That is not her voice. This is not her arm, covered in bloody scrapes. This is not her, but it is what Marco sees as her. As the true her.

“Hey, whoa, no worries,” he says, lifting his hands up apologetically. “I don’t judge in the least, like I said. Whatever you’re into, that’s no problem of mine.” He doesn’t understand. He does not understand. Something blips inside of his helmet, making him tilt his head. “Oliver Campbell, age twenty-three. Fresh outta college, eh?”

“No.” That is not her. That is wrong, he is wrong.

“Well, Ollie,” Marco chuckles, “Let’s wrap this up.” He crouches down, hands reaching for the Skyline. Skye tries to push him off, but her hands are weak, limp, shaking. He bats her away effortlessly before ripping the Skyline off her belt. “Don’t make a fuss, man.”

She should get up and drag him down with her. She should roll over and cry. She should wake up in her bed, all of this a bad dream. She can’t move. Can barely breathe. She hates him. She deserves this.

“Here we… go!” Marco wrenches the Skyline in half, pinching and pulling out components as he hunts for its core. “Now we’re cooking.” Plucking out the Quorium sample at its heart, he lets the ruined halves tumble on top of Skye’s barely-conscious form. “Look, Ollie, I’m not happy how we got here either, but this is for the best. Now you don’t have to cling to this whole fantasy of yours anymore, and we can move on with our lives.”

Another voice roars from behind Skye. “Step back, right this goddamn second, or else.” She can’t turn around to see, but it almost sounds like…

“Oh, hey!” Marco sounds almost pleased to meet them. “Bright Horizon, yeah? Heard a ton about you-”

“And I’ve seen more than enough out of you.” It’s Kit alright, fully armed in their suit, bad arm dangling down, stomping forward until they’re standing over her protectively. “Give me one single reason why I shouldn’t break you open right here and now.”

Marco raises his arms, stepping back and stowing the Quorium – her Quorium. No, not hers anymore. “In case you forgot, the whole reason we’re allowed to have these brawls is because we’re wielding Quorium to fight over Quorium – and you’ve gone on record as not using any in your suit.” That smug tone creeps back into his voice as he spreads his arms wide. “In other words, I have no reason to fight you, and you have no right to fight me.”

Kit stews for a moment, before kneeling and picking Skye up one-armed, slinging her over their iron-plated shoulder. “You’re lucky I have a hospital to get to.”

Omni Red nods appreciatively. “Feel free to send us the invoice, it’s only fair that we cover it.” He raises his voice a little more. “Oh, and the offer is still on the table! Come in anytime for your interview!”

“Bastard.” Kit turns on their heel, careful to gather up the pieces of the Skyline, and strides away. Within five steps, the rhythmic bouncing lulls Skye into a heavy, restless sleep.