NOVPUB
Chapter 39: What sick joke is this?
"What the—?"
Rhea’s jaw dropped, her amber eyes widening in disbelief as she scanned the paper clutched in her hands.
The bold text—Superhero Enrollment Application: Ready to Save the World?—leaped off the page like a taunting slap, sharp and unrelenting.
She jerked her head up, her gaze piercing Kael across the table, fingers tightening until the edges of the paper crumpled under her grip.
"What sick joke is this?" she demanded, her voice cutting through the air, stripped of its earlier playfulness and now edged with raw seriousness. The room seemed to shrink, the air thickening with unspoken tension.
"This isn’t funny, Kael—not even close." Her eyes searched his face, darting over the bruises and the steady set of his jaw, waiting for the telltale flicker of a grin, a hint that this was all some twisted prank. But his hazel stare held firm—unyielding, no trace of jest lurking in its depths.
He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, his voice dropping low and resolute. "It’s no joke, Rhea. Sit and listen to me."
She didn’t budge. Her feet stayed rooted to the floor, arms crossing tightly over her chest as her glare bore into him, fierce and unrelenting.
Kael didn’t flinch under the weight of her defiance. "You keep telling me to trust you," he said, his tone calm but laced with a pointed edge, "and I do now—I trust you’ll take the right decision here." Rhea’s scoff ripped through the silence, harsh and biting, her hands slamming the paper onto the table with a sharp thwack.
"Take the right decision? You mean turn into some goody-two-shoes hero? Never, Kael—I’d sooner torch this dump than play savior." He tilted his head slightly, he knew this wouldn’t be easy and he can’t give it up without a try.
His voice remained steady. "It’s not about playing—it’s a shot at something better. You’re not just a villain bringing chaos with you everywhere; I’ve seen more in you."
"More?" Her voice spiked, incredulous, her amber eyes blazing with defiance as she leaned toward him. "I’m a villain—chaos is me. I burn shit down, not build it up. You think I’d swap sides ’cause you bat your eyes?"
Kael’s tone hardened, his body shifting closer, the space between them shrinking. "I think you’re smart enough to see where staying a villain lands you—dead or caged. This is a lifeline." Her laugh came sharp and bitter, a jagged sound as she jabbed a finger at him.
"A lifeline to what? Sucking up to heroes? Following their rules? I’d rather choke on ash than bow to that crap." He pressed on, his voice softening, coaxing now, threading through her resistance. "It’s not bowing—it’s surviving, maybe even thriving. You’ve got it in you."
Rhea’s eyes rolled skyward, her arms tightening across her chest as her voice dripped with scorn. "Thrive? As a hero’s lapdog? Spare me—I’m not your pet project to fix."
Kael’s jaw clenched, a heavy silence settling between them like a storm cloud, thick and charged. Then he tried again, his tone steady as stone. "Even if you wanted to flip, you think they’d stop you—your past, your record. But I’ve got that covered."
Her brow arched, skepticism flaring bright in her gaze. "Covered? I’m a supervillain, Kael—wanted, hunted. They’d lock me up before letting me in their club."
He met her stare head-on, unshaken, and slid closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. "I talked to Harris—my old supervisor. He’ll back you, handle the red tape. You just wear a mask, keep clean—no shady moves—or Harris takes you out himself."
Her lips parted, a flicker of shock dancing across her features before they snapped shut. Silence roared in the wake of his words, louder than any retort, a sign she was wrestling with the idea.
Dissatisfaction etched deep lines into her face, her amber eyes dimming as she turned it over in her mind, teetering on the edge of acceptance but not quite sold.
Kael leaned in closer, his voice softening further, urgent now. "It’ll help me out, Rhea—this one thing. The rehab’s drowning in costs; you doing this lifts that weight."
She frowned, her mind racing, then straightened abruptly, her tone flattening out. "If it’s cash, I’ve got stashes—hidden. Take it, done." Kael froze, his breath catching as her offer sank in.
It tracked—villainy came with perks, and money was one of them—but it didn’t touch the root of his problem. He needed more than a quick fix.
He exhaled slowly, leaning in so close his voice became a whisper, pulling her into the gravity of his words. "That’s not it—the real reason’s bigger."
She tilted forward instinctively, her amber eyes glinting with curiosity, drawn in by the secrecy as he breathed, "It’s a deal I made with Harris and Lightning Lass. This rehab? They send me villains, but only if I prove it works. You’ve gotta help—work with the heroes, show them it’s real. Otherwise, this shuts down—I’m counting on you."
Her breath hitched, her eyes widening as the full weight of his words crashed over her, a tidal wave of responsibility she hadn’t asked for. He pulled back slightly, his voice firming up again. "Your choice. Help me, and we keep this going—days like today. Don’t, and it’s over—I close shop, Lightning Lass takes you. She’ll kill you or jail you, and I’m back rubbing shoulders and kneading backs for a living."
Rhea stared at him, her fingers creasing the paper further, a deep frown carving into her brow. He’d laid out a single, narrow path, slamming every other door shut with brutal finality, and she felt the squeeze, her options evaporating like smoke.
Her old life loomed in her mind—lonely, grim, a relentless cycle of fights and fire with no hint of peace.
Then there was the Haven—dull at times, but steady, filled with Kael’s voice, their stupid banter, the odd comfort of it all.
Deep down, she didn’t want to lose it, though she’d never admit it aloud. The superhero life grated against every fiber of her being—masks, orders, the nauseating stench of righteousness—but Kael’s unshakable faith in her, his assurance that Harris would smooth the way, gnawed at her doubt.
Could they really take her in? She’d scorched too much, left too many ashes in her wake for their trust, but if he swore it... 𝘯𝘰𝑣𝘱𝑢𝘣.𝑐𝑜𝑚
She blew out a breath, sharp and jagged, tossing the crumpled paper onto the table with a flick of her wrist. "What the hell," she said, her voice rough but yielding, a reluctant surrender. "I’ll do it—but you promise no more locked doors. I roam free here."
Kael’s lips twitched, a faint smile breaking through the tension, his hazel eyes softening with relief as he nodded. "Done. Work with them for a month—if Harris clears you as a hero, you’re free to leave this dump you hate so much, and go back to your home."
Her smirk flickered briefly, surprise flashing in her gaze, then faded as a lump settled in her chest. Unease curled tight around her heart, heavy and unsettling.
Leave the Haven?
__ Ba-Dump~ __
