4 Showtime Part 4

I couldn't tell what was running through her mind at the moment, but I knew nonetheless that I succeeded. Omna is a hero unlike any other in Krimo. Unlike most people, she effectively has five separate superpowers; all cranked up to 11th degree. However, over a decade's worth of public battles made her weaknesses all the more famous, such as having to switch between each power consciously or, more importantly. The fact that, like any good hero, she would jump in without even thinking if an innocent's life was on the line.

I poured so much effort and conviction into shooting Fury with my fake blaster that she probably thought she was my only target. This is precisely why, in the mother of all heel turns, I had shot at Frag, forcing her to do a complete physical and mental 180. Which meant like clockwork, Omna's speed mode was in play. An all too familiar flash of blue lighting darted right where Frag was in a guarding position. Which means she had entered straight into his trap. Frag's single-mindedness came in clutch as for once as, without a single order, the struggling man gave out a loud shout, finally unveiling his power for all to see.

The attack was far worse than usual now with the build-up as Omna soon became hopelessly outmatched by an omnidirectional wave of concussive force. She tried as she might escape, but curiously her blue lighting for once came far too late. Upon the wave's dispersal, Omna got sent careening straight into the back of the bank.

It was too bad that we were still in the Frag's blast range as I also had to guard Fury against the tail end of the explosion. For a second, it felt like a hundred needles hit my back at a hundred miles per hour, forcing me to the floor writhing. However, a good part of me probably would've stayed there if Fury didn't give me words that sent me in fearful motion.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Eternus, but you need to run," she said in kind restraint.

From there, it was all I needed to get back up as I commanded the rest of The Cons in the most "elegant" way possible.

"Gum, get your dehydrated ass behind the steering wheel, Ricochet, get Frag's mute unconscious butt in the Hovercrap, Port give me all you got Fury's about to blow!"

There's this funny thing about us, no matter how bad things seem to get, no matter how much we argue, no matter how much we all collectively sucked, we could be efficient when the chips are down. Ricochet ran first, quickly grabbing Frag's light body while Port pulled out the four remaining items from her pocket space for the day.

I don't know how an eight-ball, small sandbag, water balloon, and toy frog were supposed to help me, but I'll make it work. Ricochet quickly threw Frag straight towards Port as Omna slammed his head into the tiled floor, noticing the rumbling debris faster than any of us. Her earlier warmth turned to a raging fire as her body morphed into the muscular appearance befitting strength mode.

But even with that monstrous showing, Ricochet was more hurt than knocked out as his rifle laid on the floor. After getting my items, I ran straight for Omna undeterred. Once again, I saw another look of violence, timing my dodge just right to avoid Ricochet's thrown body. In response, I hit Omna's head with the eight ball so hard it shattered.

Confusion turned to anger as I swear I could hear steel-like tendons move as I dodged her lunges. This gave Ricochet just enough time to unleash his power. His rubber-like skin collided with the concrete wall, instantly rebounding off it at an uncontrollable speed. Ricochet hit Omna so hard that she was sent back through his violent flailing as he landed straight on his butt. I tried to recover his shattered pride by picking him up.

"Way to bounce back, Ricochet. I think I may take you up on that cigarette when this is done."

"Sure, you smoke, I drink," he said in a calm, monotone voice.

"You guys can drink and smoke all you want after you serve 20 to 35!" Omna said in anger.

But before we could get ready for round 3, Fury decided she wanted a piece of the action. There was a reason why I had made Fury the hostage because, despite that friendly face, Fury's power was by far the most dangerous among us. That's why I kept her in the safest spot. Every day she keeps it locked inside, but any wrong hit could set her off, like my blaster accidentally clocking her head in my earlier dive.

Our ally grew to double her size; her true light orange eyes shone with bestial intensity while her equally orange hair sprouted itself all over her body. Her fangs and claws were as terrifying as her new bestial vessel. But all color drained from my face when she made her way towards us in a guttural roar. She was so fast we couldn't even react as she shoved us both away in a whip-like fashion.

But while Ricochet had a rubber skin to soften it, I had regular old blood and bones that quickly got cracked like candy. By the time I had landed at the opposite wall, I had already completed the mental check-up of myself. 2 busted ribs, a bruised right arm, and four broken teeth.

Every oncoming breath was like inhaling broken glass. This means that all I could do was sit for a bit while Fury engaged Omna. Then, two superhuman fists collide in a shockwave as loud as thunder. The entire bank trembled in their struggle, barely holding itself together amongst the two titans. But in the mother of miracles, Fury was stronger, breaking Omna's hand as she sent her flying straight through the bank wall.

Both the officer and crowd nearly got smashed in as the rubble skittered across the room. That one sight alone made all the pain worth it, filling me with something that Fury radiated in spades: relief. We were almost home-free, and I'm more than happy to sacrifice everything to get to the finish line.

For the final time, I summoned my inner demon. In a start, my stamina was once again revitalized by spite and madness, purging all potential fear in my mind. Before Fury could lay waste to someone else in her manic state, I threw my water balloon straight at her, calling her newly pissed off attention.

"Eyes on me, Fury! I'm livid all the time, but you don't see making a ruckus! But if you want a fight, I'm more than ready!"

Taking the hint, a concerned Ricochet quickly retreated to the Hovercrap. From there, Fury went at me with the wild energy on par with a stampede. But I still held my ground and looked her straight in the eye, throwing the remains of my cape straight at her. In that nanosecond, I dodged claws that thankfully took my mask instead of my head as I started to slide.

Along the way, I simultaneously spat out my broken teeth right in her eyes while I tripped up her leg. But, of course, when you get as accustomed to pain as me, you tend to know where to strike. So from there, I jumped up, bruised ribs blazing, and busted out the bag of sand, thrusting straight into her roaring mouth.

Even through her slimy tongue, I still braced my arm for the eventual cost as Fury's ferocious fangs started to brutalize my right arm. Hot blood began to drop down to the floor as I followed suit. For a second, I thought I would die until I saw that my plan was adequate. Her next growl was interrupted by a series of staggering coughs. In one stroke, her keen senses turned into a bothersome hindrance.

I couldn't help but give one last demonic smile as I saw Ricochet's rifle laid within arms reach. Then, using the very last embers of my stamina, I got back up with a fiery vengeance, grabbing the rifle and striking Fury in the jaw so hard that my weapon snapped. With all of her weak points hit, gravity did the rest of the work. I have one final look at my titanic opponent before giving out an uproarious scream of victory that faded my entire surroundings to black.

The next time I woke up, it was in the arms of the closest relationship I've ever had: my medical bed. Or should I say my very own couch, a subtle clue that I had returned to The Burrow, the shithole we called home. I tried to move my body around, but I could tell that my injuries sapped all my strength. So I had to resort to several shimmies to inspect the damage. I couldn't move my right arm, but the bleeding stopped. My ribs had gone from broken to shakingly put together, and my back had gotten terrifyingly numb. My new teeth were now nubes on the verge of growing back in.

All in all, I've survived far worse exchanges, both mental and physical. Other heroes like Regen and Deadman would say that super healing isn't some miracle power. For me, at least, it's a draining, slow and exhausting ability that can keep me in the fight, whether I like it or not.

A fate that leaves mine forever eternal. Always the survivor, always the victim. It's only now where I've come to take from this messed up world instead of taking it. If we get more lucky breaks like that, maybe we'll get our due.

After a couple more hours, I managed to weakly walk out of my room with my cane in hand to meet the uncanny crew I had set up. My steps must have gotten attention as all The Cons decided to stop what they were doing at the diner table.

Ricochet's drunken celebration, Port's tinkering, Gum's mutterings over our next potential step while drinking water, Fury's careful worry, and Frag's silent off-hand observations all stopped by my entrance. Each had their responses as soon enough; I got bombarded with Fury's hug, Frag's sorrowful kneel, and Ricochet's urging to try his e-cig.

"Good to have you back boss, I hope you enjoyed your cut," Gum said in a casual motion.

"Yeah, welcome back," Port said while keeping on her task.

"All right, settle down, guys; I'm okay, famished, but okay."

"Well, if that's the case, let's finally get this party started! I don't know about you guys, but back where I'm from, we used to celebrate our heists!" Ricochet said in a joyful mood.

The quote was so infectious that I couldn't help but give a laugh, a pure one for once, as I agreed.

"Then let's celebrate; it's not every day where this kind of thing happens. Let's enjoy it while it lasts."

And so we did, partying the rest of the night away in bliss before the next shitstorm came knocking.