Super Genetics

The platform shuddered violently, pulling Terry from his melancholy. He glanced up to see Terraform on a second platform made of pure glass, rising high above the Pit. There were a handful of others with Terraform, among them Katie’s grandmother and Madame Juliette. The sight tightened his chest, but he forced himself to stand, wiping his face as he looked toward Katie. Her eyes tracked Terraform’s platform, her own tears slipping down her cheeks.

Tania, who had been watching Terry, followed his gaze and realized the gravity of the scene. Katie’s grandmother was among those giving their lives to slow Qui Shen and Skipper. The understanding flickered in Tania’s widened eyes before settling into a pained acceptance. Terry left the dozens of cats to their own devices and walked over to Katie and the others. Peter had wrapped his long arms around her, holding her tight against his chest as she sobbed, her body shaking with grief. Terry and Tania watched, feeling the helplessness gnaw at them, unable to soothe the raw pain Katie was feeling.

All around them, cries of surprise and panic rang out as Terraform’s platform rose up to the ceiling of the Pit and disappeared through the stone. Movement caught Terry’s eye, and he glanced over to see Sol flying through the air, his form almost ethereal, a beacon of hope approaching the large evacuation platform. Shining like a Greek god, he floated above them, his voice ringing out, amplified by his powerful S-ranker physique.

“Everyone remain calm. Terraform and those few brave souls joining him will be able to delay Qui Shen while we make for the surface.” Sol's voice was a soothing balm amidst the chaos, calming the frayed nerves of the frightened masses.

Sol’s flight took him to the middle of the platform, his feet alighting gently. He was instantly swarmed by dozens of people, each shouting, clamoring over each other for assurances. His presence was a lighthouse in the storm, drawing everyone toward him, offering a semblance of security in the frantic turmoil.

Terry felt their platform shudder as Terraform’s power dissipated. A moment later, he felt the pull of half a dozen different auras working in tandem as they took over the platform’s movement. They moved at a noticeably slower pace than when Vlad had shipped their small group to and from the Market, but that was to be expected.

The others consoled Katie as she came to terms with her grandmother’s sacrifice, and at some point, her mother had come over and pulled Katie away to be with the family. Terry put a comforting hand on Katie's shoulder as she passed, offering a small, sad smile that couldn't quite reach his eyes.

With nothing to do but wait, the others talked in low tones, their voices blending into a murmured hum of anxiety and hope. Terry went back to check on Marlon’s cats, a bittersweet distraction amidst the tension. As he scanned around the large stone platform, he noticed System tags moving about at ankle height. Marlon must have flipped their auras in that particular way he had done with Marmalade. It was easy enough to track the cats with those System tags, but nearly impossible to gather them up. He had no way to corral them, and any attempts to chase them down only led to them fleeing or, in Marmalade’s case, teleporting away. Whenever that particular cat used its incredible power, Terry felt a slight pull on Marlon’s aura, a thin thread of connection that tugged at his scattered focus.

When it became clear that gathering the cats was an impossible task, he turned his attention back to the intrusions of space flashing all around the Market. As the platform neared the edge of the Pit, preparing to enter the stone, Terry felt the intensity and the quantity of the intrusions increase. Marlon continued to snuff them out before they could form into portals, but Terry could sense that it was only a matter of time before Skipper overwhelmed him with sheer power.

Terry just hoped that Terraform and his small assault group could intercept Qui Shen before that moment. He clenched his fists, feeling the bite of his fingernails into the skin of his palm—a grounding sensation in the swirl of anxiety.

The platform jerked again, but this time steadied as it entered the stone, the comforting embrace of the earthen walls providing a brief respite. Terry watched as Katie and her family huddled together, drawing strength from one another. Meanwhile, Sol moved among the evacuees, offering reassurances and plans, his power lighting up the space with a difussed glow.

As the platform continued its ascent, the Market below began to fade from sight, swallowed by the encroaching darkness. Terry felt a tumult of emotions—pride for the bravery and solidarity of the evacuees and deep sorrow for those gone to fight. They were not all warriors, but this exodus was their fight, their effort to survive.

Katie’s soft sobs had subsided into silent tears, her mother holding her close, both drawing strength from their shared grief. Peter, Tania, Tristan, Alan, and the other evacuees watched the dimming lights of the Market with expressions of hope mixed with fear. Each face was marked by their resilience, a silent promise to push forward, persevere.

The platform shuddered slightly as it moved through the stone, the low hum of magic and power reverberating through the air. The evacuees huddled closer together, an unspoken unity strengthening their resolve. Sol’s presence among them, calming and reassuring, acted like a beacon, keeping fear at bay.

Terry took a deep breath, allowing the gravity of their situation to settle in his bones. The Market natives had left behind everything they knew, carrying only memories and hopes. But sometimes, Terry thought, that was enough. They would reach the surface, build anew, and find a way to honor the sacrifices made by Terraform, Katie’s grandmother…Marlon.

As the platform ascended steadily, Terry glanced back one last time, his heart heavy with the weight of what they had been forced to leave behind. They were fleeing, but with each second they survived, they carried forward the resolve of those who stayed behind. Whatever lay ahead, that resolve would guide them through.

A dozen probing attacks impeded on Marlon’s attention, but he shut them down absentmindedly; Skipper had always been an aura brute, all power, no finesse. And Marlon was working within a mile radius, while Skipper was over a hundred miles away.

But Marlon was under no delusions—when Skipper got close enough, brute force would be more than enough to penetrate Market space. The thought made him grit his teeth. Skipper might be an aura brute, but he was a dangerous one, and Marlon had to respect the threat he posed.

Which was why Terraform wasn’t relying upon Marlon’s skill forever.

The man himself appeared at the alley mouth, four familiar faces trailing behind him.

Hunter Sheffield stood at Terraform’s shoulder, a silent sentinel. Marlon recognized the man from when he’d first arrived in the Market twenty plus years back. He’d been a freshly Awakened Hypnotist, wet behind the ears and eager to help others.

Marlon had rolled his eyes at his bold proclamations, but had since redefined his opinion of the man. Those dreams had matured into a steely resolve grafted by years of hard work.

On Terraform’s other side, Louisa Vasquez’s sharp gaze swept through the shop, her scowl deepening at the sight of disarray. Marlon knew better than to scowl back—she’d just use it as fuel for her disdain, feeding off any sign of defiance. And though her back was bent and her skin wrinkled, the sense of her power was undiminished.

Behind Louisa stood Juliette Romero, a young woman when he’d first arrived in the Market—now, a respected elder and the woman responsible for Awakening half the Market natives. She still seemed to shrink under Louisa’s shadow, but Marlon couldn’t blame her—it was a mighty large shadow to be cast by such a small woman.

And behind Hunter stood Marcus Gasly, an A-ranked Amplifier. Marlon didn’t know much about the man—he was quiet and unassuming, which Marlon appreciated. But he could feel the man’s aura and it was dense.

Finally, there was Terraform himself. The S-ranked Elementalist was a titanic presence, eclipsing the aura of the other four without even trying. But to Marlon’s senses, it wasn’t just the sheer power and depth of his aura that was staggering; it webbed outward from the man like a spider’s web, latching onto a million touchpoints around the Market and deeper still. There were so many strands of power trailing off Terraform that it appeared the man was the center of a rising star and the tendrils were the rays shining outward.

But just as the lines of power emanating from the man spoke to a monolith of strength, so too did the lines etched around his eyes hint at the sleepless nights and the heavy weight of countless decisions.

Anyways, that’s what he signed up for when he formed his little rogue city, Marlon thought with a grimace. He waved them onward with a grunt.

“Well, don’t linger in the alley. We’ve got things to do.”

He turned and stomped over the broken pottery and shelving, pulling six wicker chairs through space and depositing them on clear ground in a circle. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he let his heavy bulk sink into his favorite chair, as if grounding his resolve.

As they entered the shop, he watched them pick their way through the debris in various manners.

Terraform simply followed after Marlon, his boots crunching through without a care in the world.

Hunter quietly mirrored Terraform’s steps, a shadowed echo as always, his eyes scanning the room with intensity, as if expecting Qui Shen himself to pop out from Marlon’s closet.

Louisa coalesced the aura around her, lifting herself off the ground through sheer power. Manifesting aura physically was the work of a master and he suspected she was showing off with the casual display, but he didn’t let any surprise show; her head was big enough already. As she floated, she flicked off invisible dust particles from her sleeve—an unconscious assertion of control.

Behind her, Juliette’s eyes darted to Louisa in obvious admiration before she began picking a clear path through the shop, tiptoeing lightly on top of the debris when it was clear there was no other way through.

Marcus lingered by the doorway, his presence a steady anchor amidst the others’ turbulence. His quiet demeanor belied the dense, formidable aura he wielded without fanfare. He stepped forward with a calculating look, judging each step carefully before fully committing.

When the group finally made their way across the pottery minefield and into the wicker chairs, Terraform scanned them all for a moment, letting the tension in the air build. After a moment, he broke the silence with a slight uptick at the corner of his mouth.

“And so commences the first—and most likely last—gathering of the Broken Pottery Club.”

Light laughter echoed out from the group, but Marlon was distracted by more incursion attempts. So instead, he simply scowled as he forced Skipper’s portals shut.

As they settled back into a tense silence, Terraform slumped into his chair, the slack in his shoulders betraying the immense pressure he felt. But in the next moment, he straightened, his eyes suddenly burning with determination.

“This moment most likely marks the death of the Market as we know it. Some of you have been here since its inception.” He looked to Louisa and Juliette. “While some of you found your way here under one circumstance or another.” His powerful gaze regarded Hunter and Marcus, then lingered on Marlon.

Marlon pursed his lips in annoyance, but resisted the urge to tell the man to get on with it.

“Whatever your reasons, you’re here now. I’ve discussed this with you all individually, but I want to reiterate one more time: we are unlikely to return from this mission.” The aura in the room stirred at that—not with fear, but steady determination. “But know that our sacrifice could very well mean the difference between our loved ones reaching the surface…or being incinerated by that monster.

“Which brings me to the even worse news.” His expression hardened, magic burning in his eyes. “There is a traitor among the refugees feeding information to Qui Shen.”

Juliette’s gasp cut through the air like a knife, sharp and sudden. Marcus’ eyes widened, deep furrows appearing on his forehead. Louisa remained unmoved, but her knuckles turned white as she clenched her skirt.

Only Hunter seemed unsurprised by the news—typical of the mind readers to know things before everyone else.

Not that Marlon himself was that taken aback. In a group of thousands, the chances of a sellout coward were greater than not.

A moment of stunned silence followed. Then, Juliette broke it.

“Do-do we know who—?”

She cut off as Terraform shook his head.

“We know it’s someone who was present during the evacuation debrief. Shortly after I informed them of our intention to intercept Qui Shen, I felt their forces divert. The timing was too coincidental.”

“Rupert?” Marcus asked quietly.

Terraform hesitated before answering. “I can’t be certain. I’ve informed Sol, but Hunter wasn’t able to get a read on Rupert. Sol’s on guard and should be able to handle him—or whoever the traitor is.”

“If it’s even one person,” Louisa added with a grunt.

Terraform nodded sadly. “Even so, there’s no way to contain prisoners while they evacuate and we couldn’t bring them with us.”

Marlon scoffed—which he immediately regretted, because all eyes cut toward him suddenly.

“Coulda just executed him and been done with it,” he said with a shrug.

Everyone was thinking it anyway, right?

Terraform blinked, his jaw tightening, his voice soft. “You know that’s not how I operate, Marlon.”

Marlon waved away the reply. “Yeah, yeah. Just thinking out loud.”

Terraform pursed his lips with displeasure before continuing.

“Regardless, what’s done is done. Now, the next item of business. I passed the Singularity to Sol. His primary mission is to get the civilians to safety but should that become impossible…his priority will be to keep the Singularity from Qui Shen.” Terraform’s eyes burned as they cut across the room, lingering lastly on Louisa, whose entire family was among the evacuees. “By any means necessary.”

She stared back, her face hardened, cut from granite. After a moment, she nodded subtly.

Marcus lightly cleared his throat and all eyes turned to him. His voice was low, but steady.

“Can we trust him to do what needs to be done?” He looked around in question. “He put on a strong front, but I sensed his turmoil. And if I did, so did others.”

Terraform nodded, looking to Hunter expectantly.

The Hypnotist folded his hands in his lap, a thoughtful expression on his face. Marlon thought it a pretty simple question with a pretty simple answer. But he had never known Hunter to answer a question without careful consideration.

“His imprisonment with the Fairways has had a significant psychological toll on him. Coupled with the death of his team…much of his identity has been called into question. In my opinion, adopting a leadership role, being responsible for the wellbeing of others…it’s a risk. It could help him heal or it could break him down even further.”

“That was a long-winded way of saying you’re not sure,” Louisa growled, her lips curling into an unimpressed sneer. She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing as though daring anyone to challenge her assertion.

Marlon couldn’t help but agree with the surly old bat. She had a way of cutting through the fluff with brutal efficiency, a quality he grudgingly respected.

Hunter nodded in an understanding way, which made Marlon’s nose furl in irritation. The Hypnotist’s unflappable patience irked him, especially in the face of what awaited them.

“Even with my magic, the human psyche is a complicated machine. I can only speculate…and hope.” Hunter’s voice softened at the last word, a glimmer of empathy shining through his otherwise clinical demeanor. His thoughtful expression turned inward, as though wrestling with the complexities of the mind.

An unsteady silence consumed the group for a few moments, each member lost in their thoughts. Juliette’s fingers twitched nervously, her eyes clouded with concern. Marcus remained stoic, yet the tension in his jaw betrayed his inner turmoil. Louisa’s gaze was sharp and probing, and Marlon could see her mind working behind those piercing eyes.

Then, Terraform spoke, his powerful voice cutting through the silence and filling Marlon’s tiny shop with an undeniable presence. “We made a show of rising to meet Qui Shen. All of the Market saw us leave. Which means Qui Shen and Skipper will still be expecting us to intercept them through the earth.” He paused, looking them each in the eye, his confidence projecting through his gaze like a stabilizing force in the storm of uncertainty, drawing strength from their shared resolve.

“Which was why they’ll be surprised when we ambush them through one of Marlon’s portals.” Terraform’s lips curled into a knowing smile, a hint of defiance glowing in his eyes. The plan was reckless, unpredictable, and entirely theirs.

Marlon straightened in his chair, the weight in his chest lifting slightly. He caught Terraform’s eye and gave him a nod, acknowledging the man’s steady presence. Juliette’s lips trembled into a faint smile, a spark of hope igniting in her eyes. Even Louisa’s stern expression softened by a fraction, a silent acknowledgment of the stakes they faced together.

“Let’s give them hell,” Marcus muttered, his voice quiet but resolute. It wasn’t just a statement; it was a promise, a battle cry.

The group shifted, a renewed energy crackling in the air. They were a ragtag assembly of misfits and outcasts, but in that moment, they were united by purpose. The weight of impending doom still hung over them, but now it shared space with something stronger—determination.

Terraform rose, his aura blazing like a star ready to go supernova. “For the Market,” he declared.

“For the Market,” they echoed, the words resonating with a fierce, unyielding spirit. Even Marlon felt himself pulled along by the sheer magnetism of their leader, the words leaving his mouth of their own accord.

And with that, the first—and most likely last—gathering of the Broken Pottery Club prepared to face their fate, ready to strike back against despair with all the courage and hope and trickery they had left.