I know you, the voice in his head said, a mere whisper. I see you.
“Help me,” James croaked. The pain was unbearable. It was everything. “Please... help me.”
You’re alone. Nobody will help you.
“Derek,” he groaned, not able to think. “Please.”
Your whole life, you’ve been saved. Not today.
The stone. Where was the stone? He searched for it through tear-filled eyes. There! At the end of the bridge. He just had to get to it.
You are weak.
A fresh stab of pain shot through James like a thunderbolt, making his arms buckle as he tried to crawl across the floor. His face connected with the ground, and for a moment, all he saw was darkness. He wanted to die. He would lie there until he was nothing. Let it all end. No more pain. No more suffering. Just let it finally end.
No.
Images appeared in his mind, riding to the top of the sea of pain. Rocky, unconscious on the ground. Katie, slammed against the wall.
And Derek. Derek, his body limp, stuck in a tube like a rat. James’s older brother, his hero, reduced to nothing.
It had to end.
With incredible effort, every fiber in his being telling him to stop, James pushed his chest off the floor.
He couldn’t rise to his feet, so he crawled. Slowly, he crawled, every inch like he was moving a mountain. All he saw was the stone. Nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered.
You’re weak, the voice said again, with more contempt.
More pain shot through him, making his back arch and his muscles tense. He was aware, in some far corner of his mind, that he was screaming.
He focused back on the stone. A beacon of light in the dark cavern. He gritted his teeth and began to crawl again. Closer, closer. Every step was harder, like someone was pushing back against him. But still, he crawled, his arms shaking, his head pounding, every muscle in his body screaming.
Finally, he reached it. It shone before him, as bright as the sun. He could almost feel its warmth. He reached a shaking hand out toward it.
A boot stomped onto his hand, crushing it against the ground, inches from the stone.
James screamed as he felt several bones in his hand snap.
Calico stood above him, only it no longer looked like Calico. His face, normally pale, was gray, like a statue. Lines snaked across it like veins, but they were green, the same color as the stone. And his eyes ... what had once been gray circles surrounded by white were now completely black, the color of flint. They reminded James of a beetle.
“It’s too late,” Calico said. His voice was strange, raspy. “You cannot stop me.”
He reached down and wrapped a hand around James’s neck. James was powerless to stop him. Calico lifted him until they were face to face. James stared into those cold, flint-colored eyes, those pits of despair, and saw his doom.
Calico raised his free hand and punched James in the face, holding him in place. James’s head snapped back. He heard something crack deep inside of his head, and blood and broken teeth flew from his mouth.
“Today, the world changes. No longer will we serve meekly—we will rule.” Calico hit James again, and his vision flickered. He barely held onto the edge of consciousness. “We will be gods.”
James looked at the monster that had once been Calico. He saw two heads as his vision blurred. In that moment, oddly, all James wanted to do was go home. He didn’t want to be a Super. He didn’t want to take the damn stone. Hell, he didn’t even want to save the world. In his dying moments, all he wanted was home. And he hated Calico for stopping him. Hated him with all his being.
A strange energy surged through him, like a second wind at the end of a long run. His vision steadied, the darkness receding slightly.
“You’re no god,” he found himself saying, his voice slurred and muffled from a mouth filled with blood. “You’re not even a man.”
Something strange happened, and the veins covering Calico’s face suddenly glowed bright with green light. His eyes grew wide and the hand holding James opened as he stumbled back like he’d been hit.
James crumpled to the ground. Calico stood several feet away, holding his hand like it was broken. The stone sat on the ground midway between them. With one last burst of energy, James launched himself forward, reaching out with his one good hand.
“No!” Calico shouted, rushing forward.
James’s fingers closed over the Chintamani Stone.
The stone pulsed with green light and Calico was thrown back, tumbling in the air. James’s hand clenched the stone hard and his forearm seized up as pure energy surged through him. Green beams of light extended from the stone and reached toward him, like so many tentacles. He leaned back, trying to avoid them, but still, they came. One touched his face, strangely soft and warm like a blanket. As it touched him, a surge of energy ran through him. It felt good. His back stopped aching. The throbbing in his head lessened. Even his broken hand felt better. Another tendril of light connected with his head. This one brought more than just relief from pain; it brought power. He felt it running through his veins—pure, unfiltered power.
He saw then what he could be. With a mere thought he could conjure flame and stone. He could soar through the air, turn invisible, heal any wound. The world would be his playground, and it would move at his whims. He would answer to nobody. Not even Derek. Why should he? After so many years of fame and adoration, it was James’s turn. And if his brother grew jealous, then perhaps he would need to be removed.
No! His thoughts were distorting into monstrous creatures, snakes with an endless appetite. They would devour everything in their path until there was nothing but destruction. He’d be the same as Calico.
But, unlike Calico, James would never betray his
