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Chapter 1.1.26 — Tag, You're it
🕑 Added 2023-03-13 14:29:10 +0000 UTCEmmett spent the rest of Friday evening in the Gray Room, struggling to find a difference between running and fighting.
Emmett still didn’t like running.
He blamed it on reading too many comics and watching too much anime. There was nothing heroic about running from a fight.
Clara and Venture’s robots were definitely stronger than him, but they weren’t that strong. Emmett wasn’t even sure if their current settings would qualify as Class 2 supers.
They weren’t so strong that Emmett couldn’t get an advantage, at least for a few seconds.
The problem was that each time he figured out a new way to use his powers, his training, or his whip to get an upper hand, Clara and Dr. Venture were quick to overcome it. Maybe they didn’t want him to get complacent and resort to the same trick…
But it almost felt personal, like they didn’t like Emmett beating them.
He almost said as much after Clara’s robot grabbed his whip and hurled Emmett through a wall and into a faux building. Tiles quaked around him and Emmett had to quickly run out before the rest of it collapsed on top of him.
Emmett found himself longing for an exploit or an outright cheat that could level the playing field. But this wasn’t a video game—there were no codes or exploits. His opponents weren’t bosses that could be cheesed or bypassed.
Granted, there were supers with negation powers—something that Emmett planned on researching heavily when he got the chance. But Emmett didn’t have anything like that, and he doubted Venture or Clara did either.
Besides, even negation powers weren’t a trump card. Emmett knew that most negation powers were limited and only affected a set number of other powers.
Then again… Emmett wasn’t limited like other supers. He could swap out his mods.
Eventually, Dr. Venture bowed out for the evening, leaving Emmett alone with Clara’s robot.
“How about we change things up a bit?” she asked.
“What did you have in mind?”
Clara’s robot was standing next to Emmett when it reached out and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Tag. You’re it.”
Then the robot sprinted away, its color quickly turning blue.
Emmett laughed and followed, chasing her across rooftops while gray Belport passed by in a blur.
They were heading downtown, and the buildings were getting steadily taller. Clara’s robot leapt easily from roof to roof and up two stories at a time. Emmett was able to follow, using his whip to keep up.
Soon they were ten stories up, and the architecture began to change. So far, the city skyline had risen and fallen in orderly ‘steps’ of a story or two at a time. But now skyscrapers rose up… well, like skyscrapers—the difference in height from one block of buildings to the next became five stories, ten stories, or more. Flat roofs gave way to jagged peaks.
Emmett chased Clara up the ‘steps’ of the skyline, and now they were barreling across the tops of ten-story buildings, and running right toward a sheer wall of skyscrapers.
Breath caught in his throat as he tried to calculate what Clara would do.
The blue robot ran to the edge of the roof—
And jumped down over the edge.
Emmett didn’t slow. He ran right up to the edge, and paused just long enough to see Clara sliding down the side of the building, friction slowing her descent.
Emmett jumped and didn’t ride the wall.
He plummeted, picking up speed, falling toward Clara like a bullet.
Six stories—
Five stories—
Four—
Clara glanced up at Emmett then the robot twisted and pushed off the side of the building. She soared across the alley, slammed into the opposite wall, and continued riding the side of the building to the alley below.
Emmett missed and began to scramble, digging his fingers into the tiles of the building—desperately trying to slow himself. His whip lashed out and plunged into the wall, trying to do the same thing.
Emmett cut gouges into the tiles, but slowed himself just enough.
He landed feet first, and tiles cracked beneath him as Emmett tucked and rolled across the ground. It hurt like shit and Emmett was dizzy when he finally stopped and stood up, but he’d survived.
He’d jumped off the side of a ten story building and survived.
Emmett doubted anything could wipe the smile off his face.
Clara’s robot strolled over. She was laughing too. “You’re having way too much fun.”
~
Emmett and Clara went back and forth across the Gray Room, playing the most awesome game of tag ever. Each time their roles switched, the color of Clara’s robot changed—red for pursuer, blue for target.
They left the skyscrapers of faux downtown and ran back toward the West End and more manageable heights.
Emmett might not have caught her every time, but he was proud to say that she didn’t have any easier of a time catching him.
Especially once Emmett realized he could go inside buildings.
He was chasing Clara’s robot, when she leapt down to the street and then barreled through the wall of a nearby building. Emmett followed her inside and found tiles rising, reforming to make fake shelves and display racks like the inside of a convenience store.
They weaved through aisles, Emmett only a few steps behind. Then Clara grabbed the end of a display rack and toppled it, causing row after row to topple over like dominos.
Emmett jumped, then slung his whip to grip the end of a rack and pulled himself through the air—across the room.
Clara’s robot leapt straight up, crashing through the ceiling and onto the second floor. Emmett followed through the gap. Clara leapt through a window and outside onto the next roof.
Emmett couldn’t be sure, but it felt like the robot was running even faster.
Emmett followed her back out to the rooftops, an idea forming in his head.
When Emmett reached the edge of the roof, he used his whip to grab the edge, then leapt and pulled at the same time—slingshotting himself through the air.
He gained almost an entire rooftop. Now Clara was only one roof ahead.
Emmett kept running and grabbed the edge of the next roof, slingshotting himself again—
This time, as hard as he could.
Emmett soared through the air, eyes wide, startling himself with speed.
Clara’s robot glanced back, and if she would’ve paused any longer, Emmett would have flown right into her.
But Clara ducked, half-hanging over the edge of the next building and let Emmett sail overhead. The next building was a story shorter, and so Emmett sailed the length of another entire roof before he landed.
By the time he turned and backtracked, he saw Clara’s blue robot waving from almost three entire blocks away.
Thankfully, she waited for him to run over.
“You have good intuition,” she said. “But what was your mistake?”
Emmett shrugged. “Using the same move twice in a row?”
The robot shook its head. “You spent too long in the air. You can’t fly, so every second you spend in the air, you’re a sitting duck.”
Emmett found himself nodding along. “Alright, that makes sense. But what happened to that whole thing in the Code about not causing excessive collateral damage?”
Clara chuckled. “Eh, a few convenience store shelves are nothing. Besides, when you’re running for your life, all bets are off. Get away from the threat, however you can—screw the Code.”
Emmett nodded. That was easy enough to remember.
~
“There are other powers we can simulate,” Clara’s robot said.
“Like what?” Emmett asked. They were still standing on the faux roofs of the Gray Room.
The robot shrugged. “Pretty much anything. Pick something.”
Emmett stood there a moment, dumbfounded. A part of him wanted to see Green Mask’s psychic power again. Then there was Athena’s forcefield power or any one of the powers that Porcelain had, but that might be too much to ask for—Porcelain was not only out of his league, but off limits. And there were literally hundreds—probably thousands—of other powers and combinations of powers.
How was he supposed to choose?
Emmett sighed in defeat. “Surprise me.”
Clara’s robot stared straight ahead, as if she was having trouble deciding too.
Then fire erupted from her hand.
Emmett immediately threw his hands up, shielding his face. Heat poured over him—so hot and so thick that for a moment it felt like she’d thrown a bucket of boiling water at him. Emmett winced and backed away.
Thankfully, the heat died down enough for him to peer through his fingers.
Clara’s robot held a flame in its palm—not just a flame. That didn’t do it justice. It looked like a spear of molten plasma nearly four feet tall. It didn’t flicker like fire, but ebbed and rolled like water.
But as Emmett watched, the fire changed—shrinking in height and lessening in heat. The movement changed too, turning from molten liquid to normal, flickering flame.
“Sorry…” Clara said, her voice muffled by the wind rolling off of the fire—Emmett had been so distracted by the heat that he hadn’t noticed at first. “Sometimes I forget what the settings are left on.”
A moment later, Clara was holding a ball of fire half a foot tall in her palm. Emmett finally lowered his hands.
“Thanks for dialing it down. I’m only Class one, remember!”
Clara chuckled. “I remember.”
Emmett stared at the flame in the robot’s palm, still feeling apprehensive. His heart was still thumping in his chest—he hadn’t been that scared since getting his ass kicked on the rooftops… or maybe even since the Champion street attack.
He was going to have a hard time forgetting that fire.
“It’s not going to cook me or burn my clothes off, is it?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. I turned it down to something you and your suit can handle. So don’t worry.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Hey Emmett… You can start running now.”
Emmett chuckled until Clara’s robot turned red.
She aimed her palm toward him. Then he leapt to the side. Fire erupted in a wave from Clara’s robot, cooking the spot where he’d been standing a breath ago.
The heat might not have been as overpowering as when Clara first conjured it, but it was still HOT, and every fiber of Emmett’s mind and body screamed at him to get away from it.
He sprinted for the edge of the roof, but even as he ran, Emmett already felt more fire chasing him. He couldn’t just leap across to the next roof; he wouldn’t make it—
So he dropped over the side, grabbing the gray wall with his whip and swinging down the street.
Emmett swung, detaching his whip, then hurling it forward and grabbing the next building. It wasn’t pretty—Emmett lurched hard in the air and struggled not to spin around like a top—but he didn’t fall.
He even managed to glance back over his shoulder in time to see Clara’s robot leap off the roof.
Fire erupted from her hands and feet, halting her in midair. A split second later, Clara was rocketing toward Emmett.
Emmett spun back around, mid-swing—stomach dropping. He wasn’t moving nearly fast enough to outrun her. Besides, she was flying—he wasn’t.
Emmett commanded his whip to release, and he fell three stories to the narrow street below. He hit the ground and then charged toward the nearest window—busting through and tumbling into the faux building.
Fire blanketed the street outside—the entire street.
Emmett didn’t have any time to gawk.
He recoiled from the heat and shuffled farther into the building. Gray tiles rose up around him, simulating convenience store aisles and displays. Emmett kept going, running toward the back of the store.
He needed to get distance from Clara, but to do that Emmett needed to get out of sight of her.
He just hoped there was an exit in the back.
The hallway turned and branched: There were three doors. Emmett pushed on the first—it opened to a small room that would’ve been a storage closet in the real world. Then he pushed on the middle door—it opened to another street.
That was where he should go.
But Emmett didn’t want to run.
The sound of fire echoed through the store, and Emmett knew he only had a moment before Clara’s robot found him.
He kicked the exit door hard—so hard the hinges shattered and it skidded across the gray street.
Then turned and slid into the storage closet as quickly and shut the door as quietly as he could.
Emmett didn’t want to be directly behind the door in case Clara blasted it. So he stayed a step away from it. And he waited.
Waited in the soft light of the Gray Room tiles while the sound of fire faded and footsteps grew louder.
For a moment, Emmett hoped Clara would run right past him and down the street. Then Emmett could run the other way. It would be an easy win.
But the footsteps stopped right outside the closet door.
Shit.
Emmett only waited for a breath, and it felt like he’d waited entirely too long.
That was all it took to make up his mind.
Emmett threw himself at the door—through the door—and at Clara’s robot. As hard as he could.
Both Emmett and the door slammed into her, and all three went careening into the opposite room: A second storage closet that felt even smaller than the first.
But that could’ve been Emmett’s imagination.
They both sprawled to the ground.
Emmett scrambled toward the robot, hoping to attack before it could blast him. He lunged—half crawling, half punching. Clara turned and saw Emmett’s right fist swing wildly toward her.
The robot burst into flames. In an instant, it was encased in a thin, swirling shield.
Too late, Emmett’s fist connected with the robot’s head. It twisted and slumped against the floor, then rolled backward—raising both its palms.
Emmett chased after it, swinging again.
His right hand connected again—
And exploded with pain. Even though it was made of metal, it felt like he’d dipped his hand in molten lava. Jolts raced up his arm like electric skewers had been shoved inside it.
As his punch landed, Emmett crumpled to the floor, clutching his arm. Desperately, he rolled away and into the corner of the wall.
By the time Emmett opened his eyes, Clara’s robot was looming over him. The fire was already gone.
A moment later, the pain faded from his hand and his arm. His fist was red, tender, and felt tight—bending his fingers hurt.
“You’re a stubborn bastard, you know that?” Clara said, offering a hand—her left hand.
It was a long moment before Emmett took it. She pulled him to his feet.
Emmett grit his teeth. He was tired of getting beaten. Damn tired.
“Maybe one day I’ll learn my lesson.”
~ ~ ~
