Chapter 3- Jewel

The Washington heat washed over Michael as he exited Black Flag. It had been a day since he recovered the gold bars from the ambush. It was successful for the most part; the only trouble he had was with the heroes. It reminded him that he wasn’t as fast as he used to be. ‘To struggle with someone other than the big three,’ he muttered to himself. His success had made him forget what made him. He couldn’t shake off the feeling of his squeaky bones.

Andrew sat idly on the couch. The board on the table had more white than black. He looked up from it, eyeing Barry. Three losses in a row, but Barry finally got a win.

“These past months have been monotonous, don’t you think?” Barry questioned Andrew. His words could barely make sense with all the snacks that filled his mouth.

Andrew leaned back. “Maybe for you, Barry. Training the new recruits is exhausting enough,” he replied, taking a sip from his glass of iced water. He continued, “Forget the physicals, they’re even worse at theory.” Andrew slammed his glass on the wood. Barry chuckled.

“H.A.V.C. getting to your head, man? Relax. Michael’s probably thinking of a way to conquer them right now,” he told Andrew. “You never know who might do what, though,” continued Barry as he moved his pawn, promoting it to his fourth queen. “Your move… Marrow,” Barry said, oozing with smugness.

Andrew sighed, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly in irritation. He displaced his king to the middle row. “You know, this game reminds me of a girl I used to know from hero training,” Andrew told Barry. “Who might that be?” Barry asked him. Andrew looked up at the glass ceiling. “Her name was-”

“Jewel?” Michael asked. He looked down at the short woman he bumped into. He hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings. She was half a head shorter than he was. She was dressed in a purple coat and a long white skirt. She was carrying a small handbag with both hands, and she seemed a little flustered as she looked up at Michael.

The lady stood, almost dazed. She opened her mouth slightly, batting her eyelashes. Shock? Michael couldn’t read her exact emotion, but he was sure it was shock. He’d been dead for about a decade, after all.

“Michael…?” she asked. ‘Damn,’ Michael realised, ‘I shouldn’t have said her name.’ Michael slowly turned around so as not to face her. A hand on his shoulder stopped him from turning further. It was a firm, heavy hand. ‘Fuck,’ thought Michael, ‘I need to learn to keep my words to myself.’

“Hey… Jewel…” Michael said nervously. He concluded, in that moment, that his luck might have run out. He turned back to face her. What he saw might have shaken him to the core. ‘Why did I have to run into my ex on a day off?’ he asked himself.

A shockwave resonated through the office. Andrew looked up from his hand. “That didn’t sound great,” he told Barry. He placed a card face down. “Queen, by the way,” he continued.

Barry squinted. “Seven queens have been played already, Andrew. I call liar.”

Andrew smirked as Barry overturned the card. It was, in fact, a queen of hearts. He sucked in through his teeth.

“I never lie, Barry,” mocked Andrew. The building shook once more. Andrew set his hand down. The fact that Andrew still had two more queens irritated Barry. “I think Mike got himself in a little trouble,” he said. Barry took his obligatory shot and stood up. He rolled his shoulders.

“Let’s hope it’s not too bad,” Barry told him. The sky turned dark for a moment as thunder roared, before turning back to its usual light blue.

“Jewel! Calm down! We can talk it out!” shouted Michael as he dodged all her attacks. Road signs, concrete, glass. All of them sped in his direction.

“For the past ten fucking years. Ten years! I thought you died! Your damn body was in the casket!” Jewel retorted. Her voice cracked with rage. Michael quickly covered his face with his makeshift cloth mask. He hoped it wasn’t too late to have done that. Citizens scurried away from the area. With the infamy of Powerhouse, one would assume that anyone would be him.

Fortunately for him, many people found it hilarious to dye their hair the same as the villain’s. Michael was often regarded as one of these ‘crazy’ individuals. But it was better than being constantly hunted. He had never expected, however, that one of his old classmates would still be around Washington, DC. Especially the ones who knew him the most. They all went abroad, maybe to escape Powerhouse, to their relatives. What business did Jewel have here?

Michael clenched his fist. He’d realised that he would need to restrain Jewel. For his own safety, and the others who never deserved to be in a fight between superhumans.

A thin piece of metal cut a strand of Michael’s hair. Instinctively, he dodged the next rod, ducking. He didn’t want to hurt Jewel. But it was proving difficult to keep up his pacifism. Vector was a dangerous ability. One of a kind, too. The ability to change everything about an object. It’s especially fatal when a volley of small, practically invisible objects is thrown at someone near sonic speed.

Michael cursed. He wasn’t finding any opportunities to close the distance between the two of them. He couldn’t think too much, else his head might get smashed open. But he did notice that the only places Jewel was attacking were his limbs. Non-fatal areas. Michael scoffed internally. A road sign etched itself into his left shoulder. Jewel froze. Michael leaned forward, blood wetting his shoulder. He put his hand on his aching shoulder. A single tear fell from her watery eyes. Michael slowly inched forward. The rod was currently too hard for him to remove.

When he was close enough, Jewel asked him, “Why?” Michael opened his mouth to answer. Two arms wrapped around his chest. Jewel looked up at him, sniffling. “I missed you, Mike.”

[…]

The room was silent. Four teacups sat on Michael’s desk, vapour slowly rising from each of them. Stacks of paper rested on top of each other in a disorganised manner.

Michael was leaning against a bookshelf, arms crossed. His blue shirt was dark with sweat and torn in a few places. His black trousers had multiple tears near his joints. A faint blob of red stayed prominent on his left side. He breathed heavily, trying his best to look fine.

Jewel sat in Michael’s chair, pivoting left and right while eyeing Andrew and Barry, knitting her brows. Unlike Michael, she still looked professional. She tapped her handbag slowly, thinking.

Barry leaned back in one guest chair, playing with a flame that danced from each finger to the other. Every part other than his hands could be compared to a statue.

Andrew was looking at the books on the bookshelf opposite Michael. It was one of the few times when he wanted to grab a book and read it. ‘Dealing With Unruly Employees’ seemed like a good option, especially since the girl to his left seemed to be heating up the room to a point where the air conditioning was struggling.

Neither of them made eye contact with Jewel.

Michael broke the silence with an unwanted cough. Andrew turned to look at him, seeing a bit of red on Michael’s hand. He hoped that his boss was fine, especially since he hadn’t fought anyone as strong as her in a long time.

“So,” Jewel started, “the people think that ‘Charity4Them’ is a non-profit that stemmed from a stock dealer, which lost most of its funding and decided to go into charity. But it still had a few stocks, and it’s a side job?”

Nobody answered.

“And that companies love this thing so much they poured physical tonnes of money into this thing?” she continued.

Silence.

“And that all of this is simply word of mouth, and the government having no record of it is because of some urban conspiracy or something?” she kept asking.

Michael spoke up, “One of the many theories, yes.” His pain was audible, especially since he had trouble saying the last half of the sentence without wincing. Jewel turned to Michael.

“Isn’t that terribly sketchy?” Jewel asked.

“We don’t do harm as a charity company,” said Barry, curling up his fist, from where a little string of smoke came. “If, after ten inspections, they still have doubts…

Then they can waste more money doing them,” he said.

Jewel took a teacup, pushing her hair backwards. She took a sip. “Sweet as always, Mikey,” she said, monotonously. Michael reserved his words.

“So,” Jewel asked, “can any of you tell me why you’re working together? Son of the highest-ranked hero in the states, the highest scorer of the academy, and the strongest senior of the academy?”

“Hey, I wasn’t the highest scorer,” started Andrew. But he promptly stopped when Jewel glared at him.

“Strongest senior, specifically,” added Barry.

Michael sighed. “There’s no reason we should tell you at this time,” he said, “especially when you just tried to cripple me.”

Jewel smirked. Andrew looked down, unsure of what to say. Barry looked like he had a lot of questions to ask, but he decided not to ask them.

Michael didn’t remember the day he got framed. From that point to the day he got thrown into his cell, it was blurry. Andrew had come to break him out, best mates and all, and Barry had unknowingly joined them a few days after. It had been around five years since.

“Enough about us, how’s Japan?” asked Barry. Jewel set the empty teacup on the desk.

“Well, for starters, it’s much kinder than the states,” Jewel started, “Not as many Japanese villains in the world as Japanese heroes. There’s not much to dislike.”

“How’s your father by the way?” asked Michael. Jewel eyed him. “Well, he’s alright. But he’s working in the union now,” she said, leaning back, “I still don’t know why he didn’t help his father run the school. Being an administrator in a renowned school is much better than working at some organisation in Britain where you’re always stressed and overworked for the pay.”

Michael nodded once. “Well, I’m going to see Wand now,” he told his companions.
“Wand works here?” Jewel asked.
“She’ll be busy with me, so I suggest you wait for about an hour if you want to see her,” Michael said.
“Her?” Jewel asked, surprised.

[…]

Wand was a very, very skilled healer. She was famed for being able to heal a severed arm within a month. There was a saying, circulating around the dark alleys, claiming that if you were still alive, she could pick you right up. So, Jewel didn’t think that someone like her would be living in a place like the one Michael gave her.

The room was made up of rough cement bricks. Jewel couldn’t even believe it wasn’t smoothed, let alone painted. Drawers of various tools and medicines lined the left wall. There was a surgery bed stuck in the middle, and a few cooling containers on the right. Wand was lying flat on one of the containers. She jumped off from them when she saw Michael entering. Barry and Andrew had their faces covered with coloured cloths. Michael removed his. Jewel walked into the room, looking around.

“Who’s this?” asked Wand.

Jewel was taken aback by her voice. Wand was a bit shorter than Michael, and that meant she towered over Jewel. Wand’s curly hair was tied up in a smooth bun, with a few stray hairs dangling along her forehead. Her skin was smooth. Her eyes were sharp like an eagle’s, and she had rather long eyelashes to complement them. She was lean and a little jumpy with a very mature voice, more intense than Jewel’s.

“Old friend of mine,” said Michael, “wanted to see you.”

Wand stepped closer to Jewel, which caused the latter to stumble back a bit. Jewel didn’t like the way she grabbed her cheeks and moved her head from one side to the other.

“She looks to be around the same age as you, if not a few years younger,” said Wand.

Jewel pushed her hand down from her face. “I’m older than him, and I would appreciate it if you could prevent yourself from being touchy,” she said with great annoyance.

Jewel calmed herself down, believing that Wand was just like that, due to her fame and skill. But she started to doubt it.

“Why exactly did she decide to settle at Black Flag?” she thought, “Is it because of Michael’s fame? Or because she thought she’d be protected?”

“Wand, please be respectful to strangers. I know you don’t see a lot of people, but…” Michael paused. “Come on.”

“Sure,” Wand responded before Michael could finish. She turned to face him. “Where do you need healing?” she asked.

[…]

The treatment was quick. There was no green shining light, no specialised doohickie. Wand had simply stitched up the places where his skin was torn, before running a finger over it. It healed instantly.

Jewel supposed that the stitching was a condition or simply an energy saver, but she didn’t understand how stitching broken skin healed all of Michael’s internal injuries. Nobody knew the extent of a villain’s powers after all, not even villains. The healer seemed joyous when Michael pulled ten bands out of nowhere and put them on her table.

“Seriously? Ten thousand?” Jewel asked once they were outside. “You’re basically robbing her!”

“She was the one who wanted a nice ten. I offered to give her more, but she refused,” Michael said, exasperated as if he had had this point thrown at him before.

The two of them walked in awkward silence for a while. Each followed the other, wandering around DC and looking in opposite directions. Michael broke the ice.

“So, what brought you from Japan?” Michael asked. After all, it had been just half a day since he met her. Jewel had fought him, brought him to the brink of collapse, and hugged him before Andrew and Barry appeared, and brought them both to his office, which she criticised, while he struggled to keep his eyes open.

Jewel stopped walking. Michael turned to her. “I came in search of Mimic,” she said, “Under orders from The Union.”

“The union?” Michael asked, “Why’s the Japanese Union concerning itself with an American villain?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t know why they asked me to do it either,” she told Michael. Her tone was calm yet confused. “One thing I say confidently, though, Michael,” she continued, “is that there are more people who are coming for Mimic, and maybe for you too.”

Michael took a bit to process this. The World Union decided to start hunting high-priority supervillains. Michael didn’t know about Jewel’s situation in Japan, but he determined that it was given to heroes with powerful skillsets, and who seemed to not be doing much in their country of residence. Japan is indeed close to America, but wouldn’t it be easier if closer countries were chosen instead?

Michael looked up at her, “There are undercover heroes out for the strongest villains,” he said, “Either that, or it’s a way to dig out information for some kind of purge.

The warm, fiery sunset shone on Jewel’s face. It could not overpower Michael’s chill. If anything, it was just heroes being given a chance to earn themselves a medal. But worst-case scenario, it could mean that the world’s kings and queens were going to come together, for his specific doom.