Blackmail Is Such an Ugly Word...
It’s Cal again. Only been ten minutes this time.
And it’s been a very frantic ten minutes.
I was hoping that we could go one week without--
An interaction between mechanics and coprology?
That, yes.
That’s a fancy way to say “shit hitting the fan”, dear readers.
Yeah, so much shit that you can’t even see the fan anymore.
Complete fan shittification, as Niv puts it.
Ey, it’s catching on! Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary, here I come!
I showed the letter to Victor, and he immediately called Pierre and Deston, telling them to get their asses to the School’s meeting room.
I was hoping that this was just one of Victor’s infamous overly elaborate pranks, that he was just building up to a “the call is coming from inside the house” kinda punchline, but he quickly made it clear that not even he would pull a prank like this.
I don’t think Chaos would do a prank like this either. He didn’t do anything like that when Jeff was being blackmailed. Yeah, Chaos might be the trickster, but he still knows where to draw the line.
It would be too fortunate if that letter was just a joke, so we’re treating it as the serious matter it appears to be.
After parting ways with Bomber, I headed to the meeting room with Vic and Mar, and when we got there, we found the Faucheuse brothers already waiting for us, so I showed them the letter immediately.
That was about a minute ago.
They’re looking at the letter as we speak, grave expressions on both of their faces.
Pierre speaks up first, holding the letter in his silver hands.
“We need to identify the sender of this letter immediately. We must ascertain how they learned of this, and what exactly they plan to do with the information. I dread to think that they intend to blackmail you, Cal.”
Blackmail is such an ugly word. I prefer “extortion”. The letter X makes ANY word sound cooler.
I glance down at my chest, and the team logo on the front of my battle suit.
Yeah, can’t really argue with you on this one, Niv.
“If I had just come clean like Jeff did, they wouldn’t even be able to blackmail me. It’s not too late to do that, though. Maybe I should just get it over with. Even if I end up in prison.”
Victor shrugs.
“This is gonna sound crooked, but I don’t think the cops will bother to arrest you, because they know damn well that you can’t save the world in a prison cell, and you wouldn’t have killed Oliver if he wasn’t a threat to the world. He was a threat to two. John was willing to let it slide, he can vouch for you. You’re the Man on the Wall, Cal. If you go to prison, who will do everything you do? Who will fight the battles you have to fight? The cops? Bitch, pur-lease! That shit’s way above the average cop’s pay grade! John knows that slapping a pair of handcuffs on someone isn’t the solution to every problem, he said so himself during the Vulcanus crisis!”
I look at Victor, not sure if he’s right, or if this is the beginning of the end of my run as a beloved superhero.
Will people still trust me if I tell the truth? Will they trust me to protect them from the threats that lurk out there?
Or will they think that I’m no better than those threats? Will they see me as a threat too?
Will they see everyone like me as a threat, as François once warned me?
All I want is for innocent people to not be horribly murdered by fluffy abusers, evil supervillains and/or cosmic horrors. So this beautiful world of ours can keep existing, and become better, bit by bit.
But all François wanted was for mages to not be persecuted, and look what happened next.
Even if we plug this potential leak, the truth will eventually come to light. Speaking from experience, it’ll be at the worst possible time.
Hey, it’s not like you killed the most popular guy in Manhattan. Again, Ollie was a greedy oil executive. You’re a lot more sympathetic than he was, Cal.
I shouldn’t be thinking like that, Niv. It’s a slippery slope, you remember what Doc said, I could start thinking “if I’m the good guy, then everything I do is good,” and then I’d definitely end up going bad.
I’m not a god. I don’t want to be a god.
And I don’t want to be like my villains. You remember the horrible things they were willing to do for the greater good, or at least their idea of the greater good.
They believed themselves to be gods, and look what it got them.
The Tennebites still call you the Godslayer sometimes, Cal. I think they’re begrudgingly impressed by how you destroyed their God of Destruction.
I believe that a more accurate version of that particular title would be Slayer of False Gods.
Oh my ever-loving FUCK, that’s so goddamn METAL!
Yeah, gotta agree with you on that one too.
Man, now I want my OWN badass title!
We’ll try to workshop something later.
But let’s not go off topic again.
At this point, the only thing really holding me back from being a villain is me.
My desire to be a hero, my knowledge of the worst case scenario. I have met the worst case scenario, and I inadvertently made him even worse.
By letting him live instead of just killing him when you had the chance, which proves my point from the start of the first chapter.
Sometimes, when my eyes start glowing red, I’m worried that this time they won’t stop glowing, and I’ll start grinning like he does…
And then I’ll start seeing everything through his eyes, just as he warned me…
I’ll start seeing everyone as puppets, tangled in strings, and then…
Well, it ain’t gonna be pretty if I go down that path.
I remember when I was on R.A.G.E., and I saw my reflection. I remember what he said, at the end of our first encounter in a world less than an hour from its destruction.
Was he right about me?
Am I one bad day away from becoming another Anti-Calvin?
If that’s true, then the OPPOSITE must be true as well. Remember what he said about actions and reactions? Maybe HE'S one GOOD day away from becoming another YOU.
Hypothetically speaking, Niv’s theory is sound, but I don’t know how we could test it.
Don’t forget about us. Whether corruption comes from without or within, we will ALWAYS be here to guard your heart and soul. Your love for your friends and family, for your city, for your universe also keeps you on the path of a hero, Cal.
You still have the determination and compassion that make you a worthy Champion of the Sword of Kings. You did not kill Oliver for your amusement.
Yeah! Ollie was gonna have Ronnie killed too! And Eira, Keeno, Zaki, ZJ, ALL of our friends on Primal Earth would have died if Ollie and Duncy had won! You were just acting to protect your family, the cops will understand that!
And let’s be real, if you REALLY wanted to break out of prison, you’d find a way, even if they slap a dampener on you.
Well, the cops can’t arrest me for what I did on Primal Earth. Modern Earth’s laws have no power there, and all of the tribe chiefs and ZJ were fine with what we did to Duncan International. Eira and ZJ were directly involved.
So there, killing those mercs was effectively sanctioned by the local authorities.
But I killed Oliver on Modern Earth, in Manhattan. That excuse doesn’t fly here.
Even if the cops put out a warrant for my arrest, they’d have to catch me to arrest me. I usually obey the law out of choice, not out of obligation. Because I still try to do things the nice way whenever I can.
Maybe it’s better if people hear the truth from me. That way, I can decide when and how it happens.
And if that’s the end of my superhero career, at least I can end it on my terms.
Jeff really can relate right now.
“Look, Doc’s right. We need to know who sent the letter, and what they want, before we make any decisions regarding what to do about this. Doc, I know you and Des checked the letter for booby traps, but can you do a more thorough search and find out who sent it?”
Now it’s Pierre’s turn to shrug.
“We can try, at least. Even knowing what brand of glue was used or which newspapers the letters were clipped from could be vital clues. Such information would help us narrow down the sender’s possible location to areas where said glues and newspapers are sold.”
Deston takes the letter from his big brother.
“Unless they thought of that, and imported their materials from another country or something to cover their tracks.”
“Oui, but we might be able to find more concrete evidence to identify the sender. A strand of hair, fingerprints, something.”
Marley’s sitting on the table, an uncertain look on his face.
“Mebbeh dis am jus a bwuff, daddeh. Mebbeh da sen-duw wuz jus gess-in dat yu kiwwed Owi-vew. How do we knu dat dey haf anee pwoof?”
I turn to him.
“We don’t know that, Mar, but it’s unlikely. Oliver didn’t have any security cameras in his office, probably because he didn’t want any video evidence of any dirty dealings he did in there. I didn’t leave much in the way of evidence, as tempting as it was to hock a loogie at Oliver’s corpse before I left. And I couldn’t sense anyone else in or near the office, so I don’t think any of his employees saw me there. Niv got me in there, and I teleported out, so no one witnessed my entry or exit. There’s nothing that definitively proves I was anywhere near that office around the time of death. So if the sender is only guessing at what I did, we can’t confirm their suspicions. We need to know what they’re hoping to accomplish by accusing me.”
Victor grins at me.
“Honestly, Cal, you handled it better than I woulda handled it. It would have been more suspicious if he had been gunned down instead. If we can plug this leak, people might never know the truth about Oliver’s,” finger quotes, “heart attack.”
“Unless I decide to tell them the truth. And if it really has to come to that… then I will.”
Deston’s rereading the letter, looking confused.
“What puzzles me is that the sender didn’t make any demands in their letter. If they intend to blackmail you, surely they would have stated their terms? Perhaps we simply need to wait for them to send another letter, presumably with their list of demands. Victor, who exactly delivered this letter?”
Victor shrugs again.
“I didn’t see ‘em, they must have been pretty fast, but it wasn’t part of the regular mail.”
We get fan letters a lot, and I try to read and answer as many of them as possible. Thanks to Wally and Bolt, it’s a lot easier than you’d think.
Victor holds up the empty envelope, white and completely blank, and torn open on one side from when I opened it. As he said, there’s no return address, and…
“No stamps on the envelope, obviously. If I catch ‘em delivering another letter, maybe I can get some answers, find out who they’re working for. If we can find a way to contact the blackmailer, we can just ask them what they want.”
I cut in, a hunch on my mind.
“If it was hush money they want, like when Jaws was blackmailing Jeff, that could be arranged, but I don’t think that would send the right message. Besides, I’m almost 100% sure this isn’t just about money.”
Victor shrewdly rubs his shin.
“What makes you so sure about that, Cal?”
“Because if it was just about money, there are plenty of rich people to blackmail who can’t punch a motherfucker into orbit. No, whoever’s doing this wants something from me specifically, something that only I can give them. Something that money can’t buy. We figure out what that is, we get another step closer to solving this mystery.”
“Ah, yeah, that makes sense.”
“Docs, Vic, you three should probably get to work.”
Pierre looks at me.
“What are you going to do, Cal?”
“Unless we find out who’s behind this, there isn’t a whole lot I can do. If they send any more letters or there are any other developments, let me know right away. Until then, we operate as usual, and I have a lot to do this week.”
“Will you be heading to Fairy Hollow today?”
“Well, those little appointments with Skeleton Guy don’t really cut into my time, so yeah, I should go ahead and do that while I can. Speaking of skeletons, I still need to head out to Massachusetts, but that’ll have to wait a bit longer. Oh, and Des? I’m gonna need you to check if Oliver is still in Hell. I’m not ruling out the possibility that he’s behind this.”
Deston nods.
*I’ve been meaning to go Down There to ask the guards about our damned foes again. I feel it’s best to do that frequently, as much as I loathe going to the Lower Planes.”
“Ask them to punch Vanessa in the face for me while you’re there. I’m sure they’ll be willing to oblige. She knows what it’s for.”
“I completely understand, Cal, and I will.”
“Thanks. Mar, you wanna tag along to Fairy Hollow?”
“Suwe.”
“See you there, then.”
I teleport out.
pop
In San Francisco, Venom sits on a rooftop, the Klyntar speaking in Tom’s mind.
“You feel that, Tom? Feels like Carnage is coming back to San Francisco. And I don’t think he’s coming for US this time.”
Tom replies out loud, the Klyntar distorting his voice.
“Su wut AM he come-in back fow?”
“You really don’t sense it? There’s a new player on the board, buddy. I think Carnage may have spawned. And his spawn is coming this way too.”
“Su, am dis spawn gunna be as bad as Cawnage? Cuz wun of him am bad enuff.”
“I don’t know, Tom… but the spawn is young, and vulnerable. If Carnage deems it to be a threat, he’ll definitely try to kill it. And I can feel how powerful it is from here. In time, it could be stronger than me and Carnage combined.”
“It feew wike dat nu am da ONWY fing guin awn wite nao.”
“Yeah… we’ve still got your bitch of an ex-owner to worry about.”
Elsewhere in San Francisco, Anti-Venom stands in an alleyway, surrounded by the mutilated corpses of a family of feral fluffies.
She’s holding her new Biosword in one hand, the white blade spotlessly clean despite the massacres for which it has been used.
“Huh. The blood just slides right off.”
Suddenly, Anti-Venom hears the deep, calm voice of Lucian Pax in her ear, as if he is standing next to her.
“Michelle, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Pax? How are you-- where are you--”
“I am communicating with you via your enlightened Klyntar, of course. But I asked you a question. What are you doing?”
Anti-Venom shrugs, the Biosword retracting into her white Klyntar. She can manifest it at will, for it was formed from the Klyntar converted by her new benefactor.
“Just breaking the new sword in before I go after Venom.”
“…I cannot help but notice that none of those fluffies you have killed were bonded to Klyntar. Michelle, once again you are going against my instructions, and risking the attention of the ChaotiX. All-White was meant to be used to purge the universe of the Klyntar’s taint, not to kill powerless fluffies. It disappoints me to see you wield it so recklessly.”
“In my defence, there aren’t a whole lot of other Klyntar in San Francisco for me to test this baby on. Would you prefer it if I was killing HUMANS?”
Pax replies with a surprisingly stern tone.
“I would rather avoid any unnecessary deaths, actually. The extermination of the Klyntar is an unfortunate necessity, but their hosts may yet still be saved. And again, none of the fluffies you have killed were bonded to Klyntar. I understand that you have your grievances against fluffykind, Michelle, but you know that powerful forces are protecting them. Remember: I gave you All-White, and I can take it back. If you do not cease to disobey my instructions, I can easily take back everything I have given you. Do you understand me?”
Anti-Venom nods resignedly.
“Yeah yeah, I get it, I’ll try to be more careful. But I’ve gotta test this sword out on SOMEONE before I go after Venom. I wanna be sure I’ve got the hang of it before I throw down the gauntlet.”
The voice of Pax chuckles, not sounding so stern anymore.
“Well, in that regard, I have good news: there are not one, but two Klyntar making their way to San Francisco as we speak, knowing nothing of the weapon you now wield. And I believe that more might be heading your way before long…”
A few miles outside Atlantic City, the burning entity sits and waits, hiding in a cave.
The one who summoned him sent him a message telling him to hide and wait before carrying out his part of the plan.
The summoner is aware of what is happening across the United States, and has incorporated those events into his own plans.
As soon as the ChaotiX are distracted by what’s happening in San Francisco, the time to strike will come.
It’ll be complete and utter bedlam. The ChaotiX will be spread thin.
And in the process, the summoner’s true targets will be exposed.
Elsewhere in America, the spawn of Carnage and its host find that their ride has briefly ground to a halt.
The truck they were clinging onto has pulled into a truck stop, and the driver is currently refueling the truck, whistling a ditty to himself.
When he’s done refueling, he’ll go get a quick lunch and pick up some more snacks before he hits the road.
He could have sworn that he had plenty of snacks in the truck’s cabin, but most of them seem to have disappeared somehow.
The driver still doesn’t know about the hitchhiker clinging to the underside of his truck, waiting for him to conclude his business here so they can get to San Francisco.
And, frankly, hoping that he gets better snacks this time.