The interrogation room was lit with a single light that cast harsh black shadows around the gray room. Emilia Loya leaned back against the cold, hard back of her chair, trying her best not to cry. She bowed her head, allowing her raven-colored hair to spill down and hide her tear-streaked face. She heard the low hum of the collar around her neck, the one suppressing her superhuman powers. The arresting officer had insisted on it, even though her empathic abilities posed no real danger.
“You’re a failure. Useless girl.”
The police had arrested her during her parents’ latest heist that morning. She had been waiting in this police interrogation room for what felt like hours since then, and claustrophobia had set in. Four gray walls on all sides, no signs of life through the two-way mirror facing her, no trace of emotion or feeling—she could go insane.
The door opened, and a tall woman in a blue three-piece suit stepped in. Shaking her hair out of her eyes, Emilia could see she had wavy, platinum blond hair, and her face was expressionless. A younger man with distinct Korean features followed her in. He wore jeans and a gray t-shirt, with the letters SEA etched in bold on the front. Unlike the woman, he had a cheerful expression. She tried to read their emotions, but quickly remembered she couldn’t.
Of course. Dumb collar.
“Good afternoon, Miss Loya.” The woman took a seat across from Emilia. “My name is Victoria Blackwater, and I work for the Superhuman Enforcement Agency. And this is James Moon—one of our top field agents and our poster child for superhuman youth reform.”
Emilia gasped as she recognized him. Could it be? “James?”
He smiled and nodded. “I go by Garrison these days. It’s good to see you, Em.”
Emilia could hardly believe her eyes. She remembered James from junior high—a troubled youth with a penchant for petty crime and vandalism, yet a loyal friend through it all. How did we take such different paths?
Ms. Blackwater took out a set of documents from her briefcase. “Considering your parents’ arrest, we’re prepared to offer you a place in our youth rehabilitation program, despite your age. Garrison spoke very highly of you.”
Say, what?
Was this real? Emilia looked at Garrison, who offered a warm smile. Her spirits lifting, she nodded slowly.
Besides, anything must be better than prison. Anything at all . . .
~
“Pathos? Are you paying attention?” Her team leader’s voice snapped Emilia out of her memories. She inhaled sharply and met his eyes.
“Y-yes, sir,” she stammered, feeling the others’ eyes boring into her. She chanced a glance at Garrison. He looked completely different than he did two years earlier, dressed like a cosplayer in his vibrant green leather suit and white cape. Sympathy radiated off him in waves. For some reason, it made her feel worse.
“You’re a failure. Useless girl.”
Equator, a robust African American man with a well-trimmed goatee, nodded and turned back to the others. “As I was saying, Storm Queen just sent Washington her demands—either they pay her 100 billion in cash, or she plunges Florida into the second ice age.”
Emilia tried to focus, but she could barely hear him over the whirring helicopter propeller, the breaking waves hundreds of feet below, and the dreadful blizzard outside. The compartment shuddered slightly. Never in her life had she felt so small and claustrophobic. She half expected the helicopter to suddenly quit and plummet to the freezing waters below, plunging them all to the depths of a liquid grave . . .
Focus, Em. Focus. She shook herself.
“The SEA has traced the origin of this storm to her weather generator, five nautical miles off Miami,” Equator was saying now. “The U.S. Coast Guard is sending backup. Our orders are to disable the machine and arrest her, without taking any lives if possible.”
Emilia nodded. No danger of that from me, amigo. Her empathic powers, though impressive in their right, were hardly lethal. She could read people’s emotions at a close range and project emotions onto them as well. Useful, but not the best powers for combat.
“You’re a failure. Useless girl.”
Emilia tried to shut the voices out, but she knew they told the truth. She wasn’t cut out to be a superhero. While the other members of Response Team Six had trained to be heroes, her parents had raised her to be a small-time villain. And she wasn’t even cut out for that, or so they reminded her every time they brought her along on one of their heists. They had been so disappointed that she hadn’t received a more useful power, like shape shifting or intangibility—something useful for burglary and small cons. Why, even telepathy would have been more useful than empathy.
Ms. Blackwater had promised her that joining RT-6 would be the ideal way to rehabilitate and use her powers for good. But now she realized that they were just a clean-up crew, handling missions beneath the “real” superheroes. And in those times, few situations that required her powers had arisen. What on earth was I thinking, agreeing to do this?
No, Storm Queen had more to fear from Equator’s pyrokinesis, or Garrison’s flight and super-strength. Even Smog—or Ivy, if Emilia used her real name—was more intimidating with her steam shifting powers. The steampunk-themed hero adjusted her top hat and goggles, smugness oozing from her like a foul stench. Emilia had to resist the urge to gag.
“Remind me,” Smog asked, her British accent think and clear, “how a natural like Storm Queen qualifies as a supervillain?” Contempt dripped from every word.
Emilia caught Garrison rolling his eyes. He shot her a grin and winked, and she couldn’t help but smile back. It was nice to know someone else found Smog insufferable.
“Doctor Samantha Kay is a genius when it comes to weather controlling technology and weapons, Ivy,” Equator replied, frowning at Smog’s question. “She has degrees in meteorology and engineering, as well as a black belt in karate.”
Smog grunted. “Wonder what she wanted to be when she grew up.”
“I heard the Brotherhood of Superhumans courted her to join them,” Garrison ventured. “That’s unusual for them.”
Equator nodded. “You’re right, Garrison—they don’t usually recruit naturals. But Storm Queen has a bit of an ego—prefers to work alone.”
“Any idea why she’s attacking Florida?” Emilia asked. “Why not New York City or Washington?”
Equator shrugged. “We can ask her once we catch her.”
“Why are we the ones fighting her?” Garrison asked. “Isn’t this something the Champions would usually handle?”
Emilia shared his confusion. While RT-6 was one of the SEA’s best strike teams, the Champions of America seemed better suited to handle this supervillain. Why, their water manipulator, the Bends, could probably do more damage to Storm Queen all by himself.
Equator’s frustration was palpable. Emilia knew enough about him to know that America’s leading superhero team was a sensitive subject for him.
“The Champions are responding to wildfires on the West Coast,” he said briskly. “They wouldn’t make it in time. Also, Washington wants to keep this as lowkey as possible.” He quickly pasted on a smile. “Look, team, we’ve got this—this is the kind of thing we train for every day. We can handle Storm Queen.”
“Four superhumans against one natural?” Smog grinned. “It’ll be a picnic.”
Equator frowned again. “Do not underestimate her. I’ve tangled with her in the past—she’s more dangerous than she looks. Why, she’s even given the Alpha Corps and the Roundtable a hard time. Do you understand me?”
Smog sniffed dismissively. “Yeah, sure. Whatev.” Then she shot a glance at Emilia, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “Also, why is she here again? What’s she going to do? Move Storm Queen to tears?”
Emilia winced. Her eyes watered, but she resisted the urge to cry. She saw Garrison’s fists clench, and his aura flickered with anger. That made her feel a little better.
“If you can’t say anything helpful, Ivy,” he growled, “then be quiet.”
Smog just smirked.
“Every member of this team is valuable.” Equator’s voice was steady and firm. “We all have our strengths.” He gave Emilia a supportive look, but his feelings told her something else.
He agrees with Smog.
Why did their appraisal of her hurt so much? After all, RT-6 was full of misfits. Equator had been expelled from the Alpha Corps and later the Champions of America because of his alcoholism, and now he was stuck babysitting kid heroes. Smog had been a notorious cat burglar for the Cottonmouth Gang. Even Garrison—James—had served time in juvie for demolishing his high school gym. Their opinion shouldn’t matter so much to her. But somehow, it still hurt.
Her chest tightened with the familiar ache of inadequacy. She already knew she was the team’s weakest link. Why did they all have to agree with her?
“You’re a failure. Useless girl.”
“Eye of the storm coming up.” The pilot’s voice erupted into her comm, startling her.
Equator nodded. “Garrison, that’s your cue. Get out there and clear her henchmen off the deck.”
With a swift motion, Garrison unbuckled his seat belt and opened the side door. Icy wind and snow assaulted their faces at a hundred miles per hour. Everyone shielded their faces, and Emilia shivered even in her coat. She wished she had worn something more practical than her uniform—a stylish black leather coat, knee-length, with bold purple highlights. Garrison leaped out into the storm and flew, cape billowing in the wind as he disappeared into the eye wall. Emilia tensed as the helicopter followed him through. To her relief, they were greeted by bright sunlight on the other side.
Then the shooting started.
Rapid gunfire exploded around them in yellow bursts. Emilia traced them to a nondescript gray container ship, suspiciously devoid of any containers. A beam of blue light shot up from the aft cargo hold, slicing through the sky like a laser.
The weather generator!
Garrison dove towards the deck with precision, fists flying as he attacked the henchmen. Emilia could barely see them running for cover—could sense their fear—as Garrison rained blows from above. They returned fire for a few minutes, then their guns fell silent.
“All clear!” Garrison shouted into his comm.
“Good work,” said Equator. “Keep us covered.”
The helicopter hovered just above the ship’s deck. Equator jumped out and landed in a perfect three-point crouch on the deck, followed by Emilia. She glanced back to see Smog transform into a cloud of steam, floating down to the deck before solidifying.
Garrison soared and hovered just above them. “What’s next?”
Equator nodded. “The weather machine is in the aft cargo hold. Garrison, you’re going to help me destroy it, while Pathos and Smog distract Storm Queen and her henchmen. Then we’ll move in and take her.” He gestured towards a nearby door. “The stairs to the hold are that way. Keep in touch with your comms, and keep the enemy busy. Good luck.” Then he turned and ran towards the laser. Garrison followed, but not before offering her an encouraging smile.
I believe in you, it said. And his emotions told her he meant it.
She smiled back. Thank you.
He saluted and flew after Equator. Smog harumphed. “Alright, let’s go,” she said, striding towards the door. “Try to keep up.”
Emilia hurried after Smog, following her down the dark, twisted stairs. They wound deep into the ship’s belly, twisting and turning, until she was sure they would never reach the bottom. But eventually, they did.
“Hold’s over here,” said Smog, reaching for a hatch. She cracked it open just a smidge, and the hinges squeaked in response.
“Blasted rust.” Smog jabbed her finger at Emilia. “Is there anyone on the other side?”
Emilia focused her powers through the wall. Faint empathic traces flickered, but their emotions were obscured. “I count ten people on the other side, maybe fifteen.”
Smog nodded. “Alright, you wait here ‘til I give the signal. Can’t afford mistakes.”
“But—” Emilia began.
Smog silenced her with a look of contempt. “You really think you can help? Don’t kid yourself. The only reason you’re still around is because Garrison’s sweet on you. Your so-called powers are a joke.” With that, she turned to steam and slipped effortlessly through the crack.
Emilia slouched against the cool wall. She scanned the room around her. No signs of emotions, meaning no enemies to fight. Sighing, she picked at the peeling paint on the wall. That familiar ache was growing stronger by the minute. She had been sidelined again, just like before.
“You’re a failure. Useless—"
“Wait, what—NOOO!!!” Smog screamed over the comm. There was a loud whoosh, followed by static.
Emilia jumped, snapping out of her pity party. “Smog! Are you alright?”
“Smog, come in!” Garrison’s voice crackled in her ear. “Hang on, I’m—”
“No!” Equator cut in. “Stay focused on the mission. We—AUGHHH!!!” He let out an unearthly cry, then his comm fell silent.
“Em, are you alright?” Garrison sounded panicky.
Em hit her comm button. “I’m okay for now. What’s going on up there?”
She heard him sigh in relief. “Oh, thank God you’re okay. Storm Queen ambushed us, Em. Equator’s been frozen.”
Fear clenched her. “Frozen?”
“Frozen in ice—she blew me out of the air, then her henchmen zapped him with a freeze ray or something.”
“Freeze ray?” Emilia threw the hatch wide open, the hinges shrieking. Blue lasers erupted through the doorway, causing her to jump back. They struck the steel wall, freezing it solid beneath inches of ice.
Big mistake, chica! Big mistake!
She dashed up the stairs, as ice bolts peppered the ground behind her. “Garrison, they’re armed with freeze guns!” she yelled into the comm. The loud clomping of the henchmen’s boots echoed in her ears.
“Get up on deck!” Garrison shouted. “We’ll regroup there!”
Emilia sprinted up the stairs, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She reached inside her coat and drew a couple of smoke bombs, pulled the pins, and dropped them behind her. She heard the loud hiss of the smoke and the angry shouts of the henchmen as she fled. She ran un cctil she reached the top of the steps, bolting out the hatch . . .
. . . and then she slipped and fell.
Emilia shrieked as she thrust her hands out. Her palms hit the icy deck and slipped. Before she could recover, the loud whoosh from before filled the air. A gust of wind whipped her off the ground and slammed her into the wall, stunning her.
“Shows how little the SEA thinks of me, sending C-string capes to try and stop me.”
Emilia slowly opened her eyes, gasping for breath. A tall, red-haired woman wearing glasses and a scientist’s white coat—obviously Storm Queen—stood five yards away from her, flanked on both sides by four henchmen dressed in fur-lined winter coats. Emilia’s pursuers came out and joined them, surrounding her. While they carried the freeze guns from earlier, Storm Queen wielded an iron staff capped with a large, intricate orb of wires and mesh. Emilia could see her thumb rested loosely on a series of control panel buttons.
Where’s James?
Her eyes darted back and forth, settling on a small iceberg just behind the henchmen. She could barely make out the green shade of her friend’s uniform encased inside.
No!
She frantically searched for any sign that he was alive. Faint emotional traces—mostly sheer terror—emanated from the ice.
Gracias a Dios.
“I was expecting Helios, or Silver Spectress, or at least the Bends,” Storm Queen’s tone was nauseatingly sweet. “But no, they send a response team—a group of criminals and nobodies.”
She gave Emilia a curious eye. “I recognized Equator. In fact, I think I’ve even heard of your green friend, and that steampunk wannabe my crew found in the hold. But you…” She paused, tilting her head. “I don’t recall seeing your face before. Who are you?”
Emilia tried to stand, but Storm Queen leveled the staff on her and pressed a button. The coil glowed brightly as another burst of icy wind surged toward her, slamming her against the wall once more. She groaned as she heard the villainess chuckle.
“On second thought, I couldn’t care less who you are. You capes are all the same—all powers and no brains. Unfortunately for you, I have more than enough of the latter.”
“You’re a failure. Useless girl. You’re a failure—”
Emilia squeezed her head with both hands and groaned. The pain—from both her heartache and Storm Queen’s assaults—was almost too much to endure. And the voices in her head were getting louder.
“You’re a failure. Useless girl. You’re a failure—”
“Shut up,” she screamed, “SHUT UP!”
Storm Queen clicked her tongue. “Pathetic,” she crooned, then she motioned to her henchmen. “Get a dampening collar on her. She and her friends will make good hostages, if nothing else.”
Two of the henchmen stepped forward, and one of them drew a power dampening collar from his coat pocket. Emilia knew the fight was over. They had failed—she had failed, before she even started. Shame over her failings welled up inside her, with nowhere to go.
“You’re a failure. Useless girl. You’re a failure—”
Wait a minute, that’s it!
As the henchmen knelt next to her, Emilia sent her emotions at them in a wave. They flinched, their minds bombarded with her own feelings of failure and inadequacy. She searched her memories, drawing on their strength for her attacks.
My teammates think I’m not good enough. They think I’m here because I’m dating Garrison. They think my powers are a joke. They think I’m useless.
The henchman holding the collar dropped it and covered his ears. “No,” he whimpered. “Please, no.” The other quickly followed suit.
Emilia gritted her teeth and concentrated harder.
My parents are disappointed with me because I don’t have their powers. My powers are useless to them. They think I’m useless.
The henchmen wailed and dropped to the ground, shaking in terror.
Storm Queen’s eyes grew wide, and her face turned red. “What is this?!”
Seizing the moment, Emilia staggered to her feet. Her head throbbed with pain from the repeated blows, but she had to press for her advantage. Besides, her emotions needed to go somewhere. She concentrated on channeling them into Storm Queen and the remaining henchmen.
Nobody wants me. No team. No friends. No family. I have nothing. I am nothing. I’m worthless. I’m useless.
The henchmen fell to their knees one by one, sobbing. Storm Queen’s face twisted in pain. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, but remained standing, grasping the staff.
“What trickery is this,” she gasped. “What are you doing to me?!”
Emilia concentrated harder.
Useless hero. Useless villain. Useless girl. Useless.
Storm Queen’s knees began to buckle. She grimaced, and her arms began to tremble. Her grip on the staff loosened.
Now’s my chance! Breaking concentration for a moment, Emilia leaped to her feet. Ignoring the screaming pain in her head, she rushed Storm Queen, grabbing for the staff. But the supervillain recovered and quickly swung the staff in a low arc, catching her leg. Pain coursed through her entire body as she fell on her face.
“Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?!”
Emilia looked up and saw Storm Queen’s face twisted into a sneer.
“I don’t know what you did to me, hero” she hissed through clenched teeth, “but you will pay dearly for it.” She lowered her staff for another blast.
No! Panicking, Emilia summoned all the shame and regret her mind could muster and hurled it directly into Storm Queen’s psyche. The villain’s bulged in horror, and she let out a blood-curdling scream of terror.
“No!” she cried. “Make it stop, please!”
Weak. Unwanted. Failure. Useless. Failure—
Emilia screamed too, for she felt her pain. But she concentrated harder, determined not to give up. She could hear the voices that had eroded her confidence over the years, only now they were her strongest weapon against this enemy.
Failure. Useless. Failure. Useless—
“Please! Stop it!” Storm Queen wept openly now.
Failure. Useless. Failure—
“Stop it, please, NOOOOO!!!”
Emilia barely heard the staff clatter to the ground. She barely heard Storm Queen’s cries as the villain curled up, sobbing. The strain from pushing her powers was great—her head spun, her vision blurred.
Did I win?
And that was her last conscious thought.
~
Blackness was the first thing Emilia was aware of when she came to. And the steady beeping of a heart monitor.
“Em? Em, are you awake?”
James? She pushed her eyelids open. Sparks flooded her vision, then she could see—the bland, yellow walls of a hospital room, the sunlight streaming through a window, and an IV hooked up to her arm. Garrison—James—was there, dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants instead of his superhero costume. He sat by her bedside with a look of concern etched onto his face.
Emilia smiled weakly. “Hi, James.”
He smiled back, and she could feel his relief. “Welcome back, Em.”
“Did we . . .” She groaned, realizing for the first time how sore she was. “Did we win?”
James nodded. “Equator and I broke free shortly after you took out Storm Queen. We destroyed the weather generator, and the Coast Guard helped us get you and Ivy back to the hospital. You’ve been out for nearly twelve hours.”
Twelve hours . . . Thank goodness they had won. “What about . . . what about Storm Queen?” she asked. “Is she alright?”
“Yes, but she’s petrified with anxiety. The doctor says she’ll recover in a few days though.”
“Did you ever find out why she wanted to freeze Florida anyway?” she asked.
James shrugged. “Who knows? We’ll let the SEA figure that out. The point is, we took her down—you took her down.”
Emilia considered his words for a moment. “And how are Equator and Smog holding up? How are you holding up?”
“We’re all dealing with head colds after being frozen.” James coughed loudly, then smiled at Emilia’s look of concern. “We’ll be fine, though . . . superhuman healing factor and all that.” He reached out and took her hand. “Can you do me a favor next time? Two favors, actually.”
She blinked. “Depends—what are they?”
“Next time someone tells you that you’re useless, ignore them, okay?” His voice cracked. “Powers or not, you’re an amazing person. And a valuable member of this team.”
Emilia listened for the voices to return, to taunt her again. But they were silent now. Perhaps they would always be silent?
It doesn’t matter. If they return, I can ignore them. My greatest weakness was my greatest strength today. Everyone was wrong—especially me.
She nodded, her eyes glistening. “I’ll try. What’s the second favor?”
James grinned. “Try not to pull a stunt like that again without backup. I can’t let you have all the credit for bringing down supervillains, Em.” He burst out laughing and she couldn’t help but join in, despite her soreness.
“I’ll do my best not to,” she said through her laughter. “And that’s a promise.”
The door cracked open, and a doctor stepped in. “Good afternoon, Ms. Loya,” she said warmly. “How are you feeling today?”
Emilia beamed. “Much better, thank you. And please, call me Pathos.”