Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
LEO
“We could just kill him again, you know,” Reed drawled.
“Nope, not doing that,” I clucked my tongue. “Since when did you get so dark?”
Alex had brought the three of us into her world.
She’d created an identical replica of the academy’s training arena.
It’s where Joon and I first met—he had been my third match of the day, and he almost won.
It brought back memories — bittersweet, nostalgic.
She even dressed us all in the academy uniform.
A black suit that looked like a janitor's uniform, with subpar equipment to match.
We watched the arena from the viewing room, waiting for Alex to call on us. She and Joon walked as if it were any other day, a morning stroll inside of a battlefield.
“Dunno, electrocuting someone for eight hours until you pass out can do that to a person.” He shrugged. “Honestly, I think I’m triggered. I’m gonna need a serious vacation after this.”
“Heroes don’t get vacations, buddy.” I shifted on my feet, anxiety building.
It was even worse than we’d thought, than we could have imagined. Every single one of us had dropped the ball—the VIA, and Heroes across the globe. We missed it because our job was to look after society, the everyday civilian. There wasn’t anyone in charge of saving the Hero.
In the blink of an eye, Reed and I were in the arena, standing across from Joon and Alex.
She looked between the three of us, worry in her eyes.
There wouldn’t be a barrier on the outside to stop Joon if he slipped out this time—we’d put all of our eggs into one basket, into this plan that was so idiotic, it just might work.
Joon disappeared and landed next to Reed, an arm draped around his shoulder. His smile stretched the tight skin around his cheeks, the scar tissue making it look almost painful. He used to charm everyone with that grin, and I’d ruined it. My heart thudded, a drumbeat of expectation.
“Hey there, sparky,” Joon cackled, and Reed ducked his head with a scowl. “Welcome to our humble… prison?” He whipped his head back to Alex. “I mean, this is basically meant to be a prison, right?”
Reed turned red. “Scratch the vacation. I need to be sedated. Two months minimum.”
Joon bent his head, cooing, distracted by his new toy. “Awe, you’re cute when you’re grumpy.”
I winced as Reed shot back, “I’m pretty, motherfucker. Not cute.”
Alex rolled her eyes, and my shoulders shot to my ears. I wasn’t sure what Joon was like on her first attempt—but judging by the way a smile tugged at her lips; it had to be better. Still, there was something looming over us — the knowledge that this was our only chance to save him.
I tried to imagine hundreds of Variants in the streets, glitched like he was, and it was a fucking nightmare. Everything would collapse. The VIA, Heroes, society as we knew it.
Joon was distracted, peering at Reed, into his mismatched eyes. “Cocky, but not wrong. My bad, you’re very pretty, for a lightning rod. I thought it over, by the way. Turn the voltage down a bit, and I think I could enjoy it. I’m not usually into submission, but I could make an exception—”
“—WildGuard is a shielding Hero,” Alex interrupted, drawing Joon’s attention, and extending Reed some mercy. “He doesn’t specialize in lightning.”
I’d forgotten that part about him—Joon was a reckless flirt.
Alex had her wine, I had my cigarettes, and he had…
well, a soft spot for anyone pretty. I thought it was ridiculous when she’d suggested it.
But watching him now, the easy drop of his shoulders and lazy way he held his head, I knew she was right.
We’d play on his vice to get an entry point, then go from there.
From the inside, we’d try to draw out the real Joon. And outside, Dahlia was working frantically with her coders, trying to undo whatever Splinter had changed in his chip. If we could buy some time, we’d succeed.
No purple eyes, no madness, or locking him up and risking an escape. With his mind under Alex’s ability, and an extra dose of sedative, they could remove it entirely, and put in a new one. Though, Dahlia wasn’t sure it could be removed at this point.
We just have to wait it out, and hope.
Reed had begrudgingly agreed to her plan after Alex promised him another shopping spree. Unfortunately, it was my credit card they’d be using, and I was going to be forced along for the ride. But there were priorities at stake, so I would deal.
“A mixed bag, huh,” Joon nodded in appreciation. “Pretty and talented. The codename could use some work, though.”
“Really? I considered ‘Glitch’, too, but it was a little evil for my taste,” Reed purred. “I’m more into the wholesome type.”
Damnit, Reed. We’re trying to get him to chill out, not piss him off even more.
I went rigid, and Alex’s face turned red as she watched them. To my surprise, Joon went along with it.
“Noted.” He tilted his head. “I can do that. I’m a great cook, too, I swear. Ever hear of abalone porridge? Great for cold days. I make it just like Mom taught me.”
He stilled, and my breath caught. Joon loved his mother; I’d always been jealous of that. Whenever we got a bonus, he would wire it straight to her, and it always ended up in a video call where she would reprimand him.
“Ma,” he’d huff, “please take it. No, I don’t need it. Yes, everything is fully funded, I’ll be fine. Get yourself something nice, or use it for the restaurant. Give it to charity if you want to—it’s a gift.”
Alex stepped forward; we’d found our entry. “I spoke to her last month. The restaurant is doing well; they’ve been getting more tourists. She hired some new staff to help her out, too, so she doesn’t have to work as hard. I had to convince her, though.”
Joon let out a soft laugh, and his brows scrunched, as if he were confused. “She hates to waste money, and extra staff are just—”
“—bodies that get in the way,” I finished his sentence without thinking.
With the amount of calls he’d made to her while we were partners, I’d nearly memorized their script. I never even realized it. His eyes flitted to mine, hovering, calculating. He stepped away from Reed, who finally let out a breath.
“How do you feel about scars, then?” His eyes stayed on me, but the question was directed at Reed. He’d changed the topic, and black flashed to purple. “Unfortunately, I’ve got plenty to spare.”
Alex jolted as Joon disappeared, before landing inches in front of me. I got a closeup of his wounds; his marred skin, the white hair that had once been as black as Alex’s.
I did this.
“I used to be pretty, too. Right, buddy?” Joon’s voice went low, just as he sent a punch flying toward my face.
This time, though, we were in Alex’s realm.
She saw everything, controlled every inch of the space, and had become a master conductor.
A stone wall appeared between us, and a CRACK filled the air before it dropped back down.
Joon bent over, clutching his hand to his belly.
He turned to Alex, pain and pride on his face.
“Ouch,” he breathed. “Impressive, though. Nice job, little dreamer.”
“Don’t start a fight if you can’t take a hit,” Reed chimed back in, like he sensed the tension, and decided to redirect. “Can I ask you a question?”
He was someone neutral to bounce off of; not Joon’s childhood best friend, or partner-turned-killer. Joon responded to him the best, and Reed knew it. He was using that leverage now, and I desperately hoped it would work.
“Fair enough. Shoot,” Joon smiled, and the purple haze behind his eyes simmered.
“Did you watch the footage?”
“What footage?”
Joon was dancing around now, a bit of his madness leaking out.
He popped up everywhere; toying with us, or maybe he’d just completely lost it.
Alex sighed when he tugged at her new horns, murmuring something about the ‘new look’.
Then he was beside Reed, peering into his eyes again.
When he came to me, the energy shifted. It wasn’t playful, or even insane.
He radiated malice.
But he didn’t try to hit me again—he never doubted Alex’s power, and only needed one reminder to set himself back in place. At least that hadn’t changed either. It was an anchor; small things that were still intact, pieces of Joon that would hopefully be put back together again.
“The fire,” Reed said, jerking away as Joon ruffled his hair, before popping up beside Alex again. “Did you ever actually watch the coverage? Or did your new friends only tell you about it?”
Joon was lying between the three of us now, his arms tucked behind his head as he swung his knee back and forth. He even yawned to level up the drama.
“Wouldn’t that be traumatic? I’m pretty sure that’s not recommended in therapy. Honestly, I think it’d piss me off even more.” He was beside me again, leaning in close, but still refusing to touch me. “When I get out of here, you know I’m going to kill you, right?”
His smile chilled me to the bone, and yet it didn’t make me angry. My temper didn’t flare; Joon deserved to be angry.
You deserve to be happy, Alex’s voice was in my head, now.
For years, it had been his. Recycled statements that brought on the shame, the guilt.
It was still there, but something else was too.
I had people now. Alex, Reed, even Dahlia, when she wasn’t pissing me off.
The fire was my fault—but this? It was the work of Villains, and it didn’t feel like Joon was fighting back.
Maybe he did at first. Maybe that’s why his data only showed every six months.
The old Joon would have fought tooth and nail, would have rather died than become this. He’d stopped trying somewhere along the way.
“Joon,” Alex called, and a large screen appeared over our heads. “What does this look like to you?”
My stomach bottomed out as news reels started to play.
No, not reels, one singular moment. When I tried to get back inside—when everyone had held me back.
Heroes covered in stone or ice, the only ones who could stand my flames at the moment.
Joon tilted his head up, and we all watched.
It was a vulnerable, uncomfortable scene to watch play out.
The way embers and smoke shot out of my mouth, veins straining in my neck, my screams.
Alex added the audio, too.
“Get back, damnit! It’s too late!” someone yelled.
“You’ll kill yourself!”
“Don’t be an idiot!”
“They’re gone, Cinder! Let it go!”
Joon’s head turned a fraction, glancing back at me, before turning back to the screen.
I thrashed on video; pushing and shoving everyone in my way.
But they’d kept coming, refusing to let me in.
To the VIA, I was an asset, and the damage had already been done.
I could survive fire, but a roof collapse would be more difficult to come back from.
“Let me go!” my voice echoed in the arena, and it made my eyes prick. “I have to go back in. Hopper’s still in there! He’s still fucking there!”
More voices shouted, but they couldn’t be heard over my screaming.
“THEN LET ME DIE! LET ME GO! LET ME IN!”
And then agents swarmed, covered from head to toe in fire resistant equipment.
They tackled me, held me down, so many that my body couldn’t be seen on camera anymore.
It was a crowd of black, while the building continued to burn beside us.
And for a few more seconds, I could still hear myself screaming.
When the footage stopped, and Alex made the screen disappear, my knees gave out. I looked down at my palms, my breath ragged, heavy.
“I tried.” My voice cracked, and my hands trembled. “I tried so fucking hard, Joon. I swear.”
Silence.
I squeezed my eyes shut, inhaled, and chanced a look up at him. Had he gotten closer on purpose, or was it another glitch? But I stayed on my knees, begging.
“I’m so sorry,” the words got stuck in my throat.
“You warned me to stay away from Alex, because you didn’t want her to get burned…
and in the end, it was you. You can hate me; I get it.
I’m fine with that. I deserve that. But this?
” I gestured to him; the black hood, the scuffed boots.
“You don’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve any of this, and I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you.
You want to kill me? Fine, do it. But do it as Hopper—not as Glitch. ”
Joon tilted his chin up, his lips pulled into his mouth. And then Alex was there beside me, kneeling, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. His eyes went to her hand; the one that used to have the scar. She held it out to him, an offering.
“He has nightmares, if that makes you feel any better,” Reed drawled, walking toward us with his head tilted back in exasperation. “Fucking horrible to take a plane ride with.”
And then, Joon laughed. It wasn’t the same, but that harsh bite had lessened, and it was familiar again.
“Does he still do that thing with the cigarettes?” he smirked.
Alex raised a brow, and my cheeks heated.
Reed snickered. “Yes, the whole damn time. Tapping the fucking box on his knee for hours. I swear I hear it when I sleep.”
“Okay, you seriously need to cut back,” Alex deadpanned.
Joon stepped closer, reaching out his hand, brushing his fingers against hers. “I’ve been telling him that for years, you know. He doesn’t listen.”
My body warmed up, and when Joon’s eyes met mine, it was really him. The easy smile, the way he favored leaning to his left, and the straight brows that were always raised with entertainment.
“I don’t want to kill you,” he said finally. “Right now, at least.”
Alex grabbed his wrist and pulled him down to our level before snatching his ear like a mother hen. “No killing.”
“Owowowowow,” Joon yelped, then jerked back and slapped at his neck. His eyes went wide, and they started to flicker—purple, to black, and back again. “What the hell?”
We all froze, prepared for another burst of madness. But his face scrunched before going slack.
“Where am I?”
I gave Alex a silent look, and she shook her head with parted lips.
“What… what is this?” Joon started to tremble, rubbing his hands along his neck, his face, his arms.
“The chip,” Reed murmured. “I think they got it.”
Panicked gasps filled the air, and Alex and I lurched forward. I grabbed Joon by the shoulders, and she cupped his scarred face as he stared down at the ground.
“Oh my God,” he whispered. “I’ve been in a daydream this whole time, right?” When he looked up, I learned what true despair was. Everything I’d felt before was child's play. “This isn’t real. It can’t be. That wasn’t me.”
Alex’s voice broke as she pulled him into her. “I know. We know, Joon. It’s not your fault.”