Frontier #32 - New Day pt. 2

The air was cold in the sky above the clouds. Matt floated over Hopling, eyes closed and senses sharp, the same way he had every night for the past two and a half weeks. He kept searching for something-anything-that would signal to him that Jasmine was not gone for good. He had failed to save her that night. He wanted desperately to set things right with her, but with each passing day it appeared she was truly gone.

                With a sigh, Matt descended back to the Frontier mansion, where he’d been staying these past few weeks. Not without reason, of course: Matt had become an official Frontier team member. The paperwork was a nightmare, due to Matt’s reluctance to become licensed, but Steve put in a few calls and pushed it through. Each time Matt entered his makeshift room, he stared at its emptiness. He hadn’t been the same since that battle, and he just didn’t feel right about where he found himself now. He had agreed to it, and even his father had been incredibly supportive; but to Matt, his life seemed to be moving on without him. Wasn’t it earlier this year he didn’t think he would ever be ready to become a public figure of good? And yet here he was, on an internationally known superhero team.

                In the midst of his reflections, Matt had wandered out of his room and almost walked straight into Marian. “Hey!” she said, snapping her fingers in his face. “Wake up, sleepy head. You almost mowed me down.”

                Matt shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Sorry Marian. I haven’t really been with it lately.”

                “I’ve noticed,” she said, cocking her head to the side and smiling. “and please, just Mare. I think we’ve been through enough that we can skip right to the nicknames.”

                “Sounds good,” Matt said with a little shrug. As he walked by Marian put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

                “Matt, you’ve been through a lot. I know what that’s like, so we can talk if you want.”

                “You know what it’s like to have everyone you try to help turn crazy and evil?”

                “Well, no, not exactly,” Marian said, trying to sound positive. “But we’re both superheroes. I’m sure there’s shit I’ve been through that you haven’t.” Matt raised an eyebrow and signaled for her to go on. “Look, all I’m saying is that I’m here if you need me. With Tony still recovering, my dad out west, and Natalie doing twenty-four/seven publicity, it’s much more quiet around here than usual. And you’re part of the team now, so we need to stick together. Plus I’m usually the one who needs to vent about something. I figure it should be my turn to be there for someone else.”

                Matt smiled and spread his hands. “Fine, you win. Let’s talk.”

                Marian beamed with satisfaction. “Great! Not here though. Let’s go back to my room, I have this awesome balcony. We can kick back, have some drinks, and then maybe I can get a glimpse inside the mind of the most powerful metahuman I’ve ever met.”

                The lone trumpet call sounded across an open plain onboard the Eagle. Its sorrowful tune played out as the procession marched on past the newly dug graves. Standing in front with his head bowed, Alexander Jackson spoke to no one. Eight of his own Eagle Men had died in the battle against the super villains in Hopling, while five more were hospitalized. It was the first time he had sent help down to the city, and those brave men and women who volunteered gave their lives defending a world of which they were no longer a part.

                When the procession was finally over and the bodies laid to rest, Jackson quickly returned to his private quarters. He had instructed his assistant to hold all calls and leave him in peace, so the knock on his door both surprised and angered him.

                “I am not in the mood for company,” he spoke in a harsh tone as he opened the door. Standing before him was a young boy, only eight years old. His shaven head and pale skin stood out against the deep black of his funeral robe.

                “I am sorry to disturb you,” the boy said timidly, “but I thought a talk with my father would be good for both of us.”

                Jackson sighed and kneeled before the boy. “Yes, alright Damien. It has been quite awhile since we had some time to ourselves.”

                As the two walked inside Jackson’s quarters, Damien spoke quietly. “You’ve been quiet lately father. Have the problems with Frontier been causing you much stress?”

                Jackson smiled as they each took a seat on facing chairs. Damien was his only biological child, and he inherited every bit of Jackson’s immense intelligence. Damien excelled far beyond any normal child his age. “Unfortunately yes. I still have ties to some individuals there. Those connections can easily distract me.”

                Jackson looked at his son, the potential future face of the Eagle. Jackson knew that he needed to set an example as to how the Eagle should be properly overseen. Continually going to Hopling to aid Frontier has shifted Jackson’s attention from his true responsibilities.

“But no more, my son. I’ve had my fill of the earthly realm, and there’s work to do in our paradise.”

                The sound of footsteps echoed down a corridor of the Metalock. The vast prison was the first building the GMA put resources towards building, and the construction was done in record time. Most of the metahumans were already back in their respective cells by now, with extra precautions taken for those who might possess the power to try another uprising. Richard Roxxan looked idly up as the sound stopped in front of his cell. Stripped of any object except for his plastic bunk, thin blanket, and dense pillow, Richard’s vast evil intellect could only dream up terrible inventions. Since his defeat a couple weeks ago at the giant hands of Fist, Richard had an air of despair surrounding him. In his mid-fifties, Richard was slowly grasping at the fact that his last great plan was truly his last. With a heavy heart he breathed a sigh at the sight of his visitor.

                “Come to gloat, have we?”

                The old man smiled, his white mustache framing his sinister grin. “Of course not. You’re smart enough to know what a foolish whim you acted upon. You threw it all away for a chance at revenge.”

                “I could have succeeded.” Richard glared at his visitor. “You could have helped, and rid this city of them once and for all!”

                The old man laughed, the joyous sound echoing off the sorrowful walls of the prison. “To what end? More heroes would come. You are just a man in a suit, and eventually someone would break your toy and toss you back in a cell. Steve just saved you time.”

                “Bahh,” Richard waved his hand as he sat down on the bed. “You are no better than I. Technology, biology, it matters not. If the heroes would eventually beat me, then they will eventually beat you.” Richard smiled at his visitor. “I’ll make sure they save the next cell over for you. Once I give them your name, that is.”

                “They wouldn’t believe you at all,” the old man said. “Besides, they won’t beat me. I began my operation years ago, and there will be no stopping me now. Like I said, you were just a man in a suit.”

The old man stepped closer, grabbing the bars of the cell. Richard was taken aback by the wave of power that came off the visitor, and was struck with a fear that withered what hope he had left.

“Once I am through, I will be a god.”

The old man left the cell, and as he passed through the security door he turned to the guards. “The subject is interesting, but unfortunately I don’t think I’ll be returning to conduct any tests. He is far too old to be of any use or trouble anymore. The Obliterator is finished.”