Chapter 134 Body Bags.

Chapter 134: 134 Body Bags.

I drove the Crown up to a highly classified, heavily guarded concrete lot on the extreme outskirts of Metropolis, parking the car right between a sleek tactical motorbike and some sort of hovering mystical cloud. I got out, buttoning my jacket, and took a deep breath.

"Step onto the transit seal," a robotic voice droned from a nearby intercom.

Glacia and I stepped onto a wide metal circle etched into the pavement. A second later, the sky literally tore open.

A blinding, concussive streak of rainbow-colored light slammed down from the heavens, engulfing us completely.

It felt like being violently shoved through a kaleidoscope. When the light finally snapped away, leaving my retinas throbbing, we were no longer in Metropolis.

We were standing on an arrival platform in a localized pocket dimension.

And there it was. The Hall of Heroes.

It was a massive complex of domed buildings sprawling out of a central hub, all glass and steel and white curves floating against a backdrop of swirling cosmic nebulas.

It looked like something straight out of Tomorrowland, and was probably going to be outdated just as quickly.

That was the problem with trying to predict the future—everyone aside from the writers of The Simpsons inevitably got it wrong.

Instead of personal robot butlers and flying cars, we just got iPhones, invasive social media algorithms, and looming corporate monopolies.

Glacia stepped off the transit seal, her cold eyes scanning the extradimensional void surrounding the complex with considerably less awe than me.

Not too surprising. Given she was raised in the palatial luxury of the Winter Palace, the Hall of Heroes probably looked quaint to her.

"Sir," Glacia said, her brow furrowing slightly as she looked out at the floating, starry expanse. "Why construct their headquarters in an extradimensional pocket?"

"It’s the easiest way to avoid a nuke from one of the crazies in the Order," I explained, straightening my sleeves. "It’s pretty hard to drop a warhead on a building that technically isn’t on the same plane of existence."

I still wasn’t completely sold on bringing her, but it could have been worse if I had brought the other two.

Rhea would probably try and hack into the BSA’s mainframe just to see if she could, and Psyren would have been guaranteed to mind-control someone just for fun.

I looked up at the sprawling complex with deep unease. No armor deployed today.

I came in a pair of jeans, a jacket, and, reluctantly, a tie—and tried to wipe off the remnants of makeup from the job. I wasn’t even sure why I wore the damn thing.

Maybe some instinctive effort at self-defense. See! No magnetic supervillains here. We’re all just respectable civilians. You wouldn’t hurt a civilian, would you? Of course not.

A menacing monologue? Me? No, never! I can’t even spell it.

Alright, enough of that. I shook off the jitters, working to calm my racing heart. They had nothing concrete on me. I was good. Everything was going to be fine.

"Let’s go," I said to Glacia.

"Yes, sir," she said, following at a crisp pace as I started off towards the main doors, which were reached by a set of imposing, very non-wheelchair-accessible steps.

I found Khonsu waiting at the top of the landing.

The hero stood at ease, towering at nearly eight feet tall. His face was wrapped in pristine white sandy linen, and his ethereal robes billowed majestically around him despite the complete absence of wind in the climate-controlled pocket dimension. His eyes glowed like twin stars, fixing entirely on me as I approached.

He was a powerful presence, and not just because he wielded the might of an ancient Egyptian moon god. His reputation meant his opinion carried a terrifying amount of heft in federal circles.

He didn’t smile—not that I could have seen one beneath the linen wraps anyway—but merely nodded, his massive arms crossed over his chest.

"Polaris," Khonsu said, his voice vibrating with that manufactured, booming divine resonance he used for official business. "So glad you could come by."

"Oh stop it, Finn." I waved him off. "Hard to say no to an invitation from the Bureau of Superpowered Affairs," I said.

"That’s true," he said, his starry gaze shifting to Glacia. His glowing eyes narrowed slightly. "And this is..."

"My second," I said, firmly planting myself between them. "She came with me."

"I see. Then—"

"Before we get started," I cut in quickly. "I want some guarantees. I came here in good faith, but I want your word I’m walking back out those doors. I didn’t take a rainbow elevator into space just so you could slap a pair of cuffs on me or trap me inside a federal black site."

Khonsu’s glowing eyes shifted, and he gave a slow, deliberate nod.

"Very well," he said, his voice dropping a fraction of its theatricality. "I swear to you that we are merely here to talk today. I will see the both of you leave this building."

"Not in body bags, right?"

"By the gods, Miles. What do you take me for?" He asked genuinely baffled but seeing my serious face he sighed and answered. "No."

Well, that was probably the best I was going to get from a guy who technically answered to a deity.

"Alright," I said, gesturing for him to lead on. "Shall we?"

He nodded and turned, starting off towards the building’s massive entrance.

I followed him, my stomach twisting. I wasn’t exactly sure what we were going to talk about. After I’d dealt with Delirium, Khonsu had shown up and surveyed the horrific damage to the mountain, taking particular note of the giant, heavily armed Octoporian parked on my roof.

Even though I was a licensed freelancer, getting dragged into the headquarters of the biggest federal hero association around wasn’t exactly encouraging. But I hadn’t done anything officially illegal since getting out of prison years ago.

Aside from hospitalizing Golden... and the murders.

But those were all self-defense. Well, that was the argument I’d make, anyway.

When a streeter or a rival villain came after me, and it came down to me or them, sorry, but I’d put them in the fucking ground.

I’d always taken care of the bodies afterward, and it hadn’t been an issue yet. And I was pretty sure the BSA didn’t know about them.

They definitely wouldn’t have let me come by on my own recognizance if they thought I’d be real trouble. Heroes were not exactly known for their impulse control when it came to capturing villains.

The towering glass doors leading inside confronted us, sliding open automatically with a soft pneumatic hiss, and in I stepped into the absolute heart of hero society.