Page 112 of Supernova

Finally, Leroy explained, “There is room in the sublevels for us all. It isn’t much, but…”

“We are not staying here,” said Ace. “We will not be sent into hiding and secrecy like rats, not again. Not this time.”

He lifted his hand and the barred door of the pawnshop blew outward toward them, snapping the hinges, destroying the locks and bolts. A bell clattered but was quickly silenced as the door landed with a bang on the sidewalk.

The noise was so jarring and unexpected, the whole group jumped—except Ace, who strolled through the opening as if nothing had happened. “There are more allies here?” he said, scanning the shelves of electrics and household appliances, the cases of costume jewelry. “Inform them we’ve arrived, and it is time to leave.”

One of the Rejects started heading for the backroom, but it wasunnecessary. Summoned by the commotion, it was mere seconds before Narcissa burst out into the store, brandishing a handgun.

She drew up short when she saw them, and Millie crashed into her from behind. Narcissa barely caught a nearby shelf. Soon, they were all there, fanning out around the cases, gaping slack-jawed at Ace Anarchy. His prison uniform covered in rips and blood. His skinny wrists bruised from shackles. But fearsome in the recognizable helmet, his posture erect and an undeniable sense of power that seemed to shimmer in the air around him, as if the world itself were electrified by his presence.

Ace allowed them to stare. Allowed them to catch their breaths. Allowed them to come to terms with his return.

Then, without introduction, he said, “I understand that you chose not to join the fight this evening. You opted to protect your own self-interests, rather than join my comrades in an attempt to secure my freedom. You chose your life over mine.”

Even in the dim lighting, Nova saw Narcissa going pale. Fear flashed through the expressions of the Rejects who had stayed away from the arena that night.

Nova opened her mouth, prepared to come to their defense. Ace should know that they had helped, even if they had not fought. But before she could speak, Ace started to laugh. A low, amused sound.

“You are Anarchists now. As such, you are permitted toalwayschoose your life over anyone else’s. I commend you. And—I forgive you.”

No one moved. No one else dared to laugh, or even look relieved.

Ace waved his arm, as if shooing them away. “Get your belongings and any useful supplies. You have two minutes.”

Turning away, Ace gestured to a rack of clothing against the farwall. A long military jacket peeled off its hanger and flew to him, securing itself around his shoulders and covering the disgusting jumpsuit. As the gold buttons did up themselves, Ace marched back toward the street, as if he couldn’t stand to be surrounded by such mediocre junk for a second longer.

The villains exchanged looks, their bodies tense in the shadowed room. Some looks were elated and hopeful. Others were filled with doubt, even dread.

But there was no discussion. No questions asked. No stories told.

They got to work.

When the group descended from the sky a second time, their destination seemed, to Nova, no more hospitable than the pawnshop.

Ace had brought them back to the wasteland, where his cathedral had stood more than ten years before. The moment their feet touched the ground, Narcissa, clutching a backpack of hastily gathered belongings, shuddered in relief and collapsed against a toppled column.

Much of the northeast side of the cathedral was still standing: the library, the chapter house, the main chapel. Even the bell tower was there, though most of the roof and the south wall had crumbled, leaving some of the huge bronze bells visible through the stone ruins. Otherwise, the cathedral was not much more than a pile of rubble. The nave, the choir, so much exquisite architecture, destroyed in the cataclysm between heroes and villains.

Already Nova could sense the dismay from her companions. The pawnshop may not have been much, but it had provided shelter and security. Ace couldn’t expect them to stay here.

But Ace’s countenance was altogether different as he stood beforethe ruins, taking in the abandoned bell tower with the faint light of dusk glinting off the helmet. Nova began to wonder if Uncle Ace, when he wasn’t downtrodden and suffering, might actually have a taste for the grandiose.

Ace stepped forward, clearing a path in the rubble with a twitch of his fingers. He paused a few steps away from where the main entrance had once stood, where worshipers would have entered the nave through a pair of vast, ornately carved wooden doors. “I am proud of you all,” he said, facing them. “Prodigies the world over will be encouraged by our victory tonight.”

Leroy lifted a hand in Nova’s direction. “Our little Nightmare deserves most of the credit. She planned it all.” He winked at her. “Everything will change now. You will see, Nova. Nothing shall be in vain.”

Nova frowned, memories of the fight flashing through her thoughts. Callum. Winston.Adrian.

She didn’t want credit for everything that had happened, and she certainly hadn’t planned it all. By using Agent N, Leroy and Honey had double-crossed her. Perhaps the decision had resulted in some sort of victory, but Nova couldn’t help feeling that she’d lost as much as she’d won.

Phobia stood off from their group, gripping his scythe in one hand as he peered toward the city buildings beyond the wasteland. “There will be a delectably exorbitant quantity of fear today,” he said, his voice being carried on the evening breeze. “Panic. Desperation.” His cloak fluttered as he craned his head toward Ace. “Retaliation. It will not be long before they come for us.”

“So they shall.” Ace sounded almost excited by the prospect. “And we will be ready to meet them when they do. I will not fall to the Renegades again.” He flicked his fingers through the air and therubble trembled at their feet. Rivulets of dust slid down the sides of fallen arches. Colorful shards of stained glass glinted beneath the setting sun.

“Oh, Ace,” Honey swooned. Nova realized with a start that Honey was crying. Already her dark mascara had made pathways down her cheeks. She sank to her knees at Ace’s side and grabbed his hand, nuzzling her face against it. “It is so very good to have you back. To see you as you were.”

She went to kiss Ace’s fingers, but he pulled his hand from her grip. “Stand up,” he said, almost sharply.

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