Chapter 202 Extraordinary.

Chapter 202: 202 Extraordinary.

"Honestly? No," I admitted, my voice rough as I clutched my bruised ribs. From the corner of my eye, I caught a flicker of movement emerging from the ragged hole of the ruined underground lab. "But I’m hoping this can."

Micheal tensed inside his alien armor. His helmet snapped left, then right, his posture stiffening as he tried to calculate what my next play would be.

But it wasn’t mine.

He suddenly reeled backward, an armored hand flying to his faceplate.

Even hovering fifty feet away, I was staggered by the spike of pressure that lanced into my brain. The air throbbed with a heavy, rhythmic pulse, like standing too close to a massive subwoofer.

"You bastard."

Her words went to the ears entirely, reverberating directly inside my skull with such absolute force they could have been carved into the pavement.

Micheal shook his head violently, his hovering sputtering as he looked down at the rubble.

Standing amidst the twisted steel and pulverized concrete was Psyren.

Glacia had one arm wrapped tightly around the telepath’s waist, physically supporting her weight. But Psyren didn’t look weak.

She looked like a localized god of wrath. Psionic energy violently crackled all around her like a halo of static electricity. Her eyes glowed with blinding intensity, her short hair whipping wildly in the displaced air.

"Y-you!" Micheal gasped, his modulated voice cracking with sudden, unadulterated panic.

"Me," Psyren said.

She raised a single, trembling hand and pointed her finger directly at the hovering bureaucrat.

Another shockwave of psionic force blasted through the courtyard. It was invisible, but the impact was undeniable.

Micheal was thrown completely off balance, his armor spinning wildly out of control before he managed to stabilize himself.

He grabbed his helmet with both hands. Even through the thick, impenetrable metal plating of his stolen tech, the psychic onslaught was finding its mark.

Armor can deflect bullets, absorb kinetic energy, and withstand the vacuum of space, but it does absolutely nothing to shield the brain psychically.

The telekinetic field keeping him aloft began to aggressively flicker, turning on and off like a dying lightbulb.

Just standing on the periphery of the energy Psyren was putting out made my own head feel like a watermelon caught in an industrial vice. I could only imagine the waking nightmare Micheal was currently experiencing.

"You bastard," Psyren repeated, every syllable vibrating with pure, uncontained fury. "You tried to use my power? You tried to hollow me out and use my mind like a battery? Well, how do you like it, hm? How does it feel!"

Micheal let out a guttural, agonizing scream across the plaza. Blood began to leak from the seal of his helmet, dripping down the chest plate.

He writhed in midair, fighting desperately against the psionic pressure pounding through his nervous system.

"It... it was all... all for... for the g-greater g-good," he choked out, his voice a wet, ragged gasp.

"Yeah?" Psyren said, her glowing eyes narrowing. "And this is for me."

She suddenly closed her outstretched hand into a tight fist.

Another blast of telepathic force pounded through the atmosphere. Micheal’s head jerked violently backward. A garbled, wet howl of agony escaped his throat.

And then the pressure inside the helmet reached its limit.

His head exploded.

The helmet held the brunt of the blast. I winced at the sudden, gruesome spray of blood and offal that spurred out into the air.

The top half of the helmet tore away, leaving only Micheal’s lower jaw attached to the collar of his suit.

His armored arms fell limply to his sides.

The telekinetic field holding him aloft vanished instantly. The heavy, headless corpse plummeted out of the sky, landing with a sickening, metallic thud amidst the wreckage of the precinct’s front gates.

Silence descended on the plaza, broken only by the hiss of broken steam pipes and the crackle of distant fires.

Yikes.

I looked back to the ground. Psyren’s arm had fallen limply to her side. The glowing energy faded from her eyes, and she collapsed completely against Glacia.

I dropped out of the sky, my boots crunching on the debris, and ran through the wreckage. I slid to my knees beside them, gently taking the telepath from Glacia and cradling her in my arms.

"Psyren?" I said, my voice tight. "Psyren, you okay?"

Her eyelashes fluttered. She looked up at me, the corners of her mouth twitching into a weak, exhausted smile.

"B-boss," she whispered, letting out a long, shuddering sigh. "You came for me. Knew you... you would..."

"Of course I did," I told her softly, brushing a strand of pink hair out of her face. "You’re my villainess."

Psyren’s smile widened for a fraction of a second. Then her eyes rolled back in her head, and she went completely limp in my arms.

"Is she..." Glacia asked, her usual composure fracturing into genuine panic.

I quickly pressed two fingers against Psyren’s neck. I let out a heavy breath, my shoulders dropping as I found a slow, steady pulse.

"Just passed out," I said, shaking my head. "No surprise. Burning out a telekinetic’s brain through a layer of alien armor takes a toll."

I carefully shifted my grip, picking her up bridal style. I stood up, my bruised ribs protesting violently, and looked around the battlefield.

Fucking hell.

The Metropolis Police Department was completely leveled.

The underground bunker had been ripped out of the earth. Mister Invincible was unconscious in a crater.

Cloudfire was trapped in a hardened chemical cocoon. The Rubbernecker was frozen solid. The Brute was currently somewhere in the next zip code. And the mastermind behind the BSA was a headless corpse bleeding out over his expensive suit.

We sure as hell wouldn’t be sporting a low profile after this. We had just crossed a line that mercenaries didn’t cross.

The federal government wasn’t going to look at this as a rescue mission. They were going to look at this as an act of domestic terrorism.

"We won, sir," Glacia said in awe, surveying the incredible destruction we had caused.

"That we did," I agreed grimly. "Now we need to get the hell out of here before—"

The sky tore open.

It was a deafening, concussive sonic boom that rattled the remaining glass in the surrounding skyscrapers and knocked me off balance.

A figure dropped from the clouds like a falling meteor, hitting the center of the courtyard with an impact that sent a fresh shockwave of dust and pulverized concrete rolling over us. The ground cratered beneath his boots.

As the dust settled, the towering, broad-shouldered silhouette became clear.

Extraordinary.