But my adventure today wasn’t over yet.
After handing Ave Maria’s carcass over to a team of serious but rather fussy soldiers in hazmat suits, who were clearly nervous, we were about to go our separate ways when Angel suddenly expressed concern about the Immortal’s condition.
I wanted to tell her that the guy wasn’t called the Immortal for nothing, but I held back my sarcastic remark.
She wasn’t obligated to know so much about his abilities.
And the wound he’d received would mean almost certain death for a normal person.
Even Cecil, who knew more about the Immortal than almost anyone, didn’t yet suspect that the guy could resurrect after decapitation, like an immortal Highlander.
In response to the young heroine’s concern, Red Rush and Aquarius simply invited us to visit the local Guardians’ base and see the Immortal’s condition for ourselves.
It was a secret facility.
At least, you couldn’t find out about it from official sources.
Yet here were several heroes from different countries, mostly strangers to each other.
But with Darkwing and War Woman’s money, the Guardians could place a hundred such facilities around the world, if they hadn’t already.
The others exchanged glances.
No one seemed to object.
“If your base has a shower…” Brit demonstratively pulled something white, a bone fragment I think, out of his ear.
“Shower, medical bay, cafeteria, and everything else you might need after another world-saving mission,” Red Rush replied.
Of course.
He needed to treat his leg wound too, though it didn’t seem to be hindering his running much.
We agreed.
Luckily, the base turned out to be quite close.
We traveled there on a Guardian transport plane, one of our dark Batman’s own designs, which could outpace the world’s best supersonic fighters.
Fortunately, none of us were afraid of G-forces.
Four of us could accelerate significantly on our own.
Brit and Britney were too invulnerable to complain about discomfort.
And Japanoid was a machine or something like that.
The base itself was hidden in the mountains.
As we approached, a whole section of rock, covered in what looked like centuries-old snow, slid aside, revealing an entrance into the mountain.
And at first glance, it wasn’t much smaller than the main lair I’d visited in my past life.
And all of this, after the Guardians’ death, all of Darkwing and War Woman’s bases with all their technological advancements, would come under Cecil’s control.
That would instantly multiply the Agency’s total budget several times over, not to mention expanding its influence worldwide and the additional funding it would receive after my father’s betrayal.
I suddenly realized that if my plan worked and I managed to prevent the bloody massacre and the Guardians’ destruction by Nolan, that would weaken the Agency compared to what it had been in my past world.
For example, the teleportation technology, Cecil’s personal taxi at five million dollars per use, or the Martian mission, which had been accelerated specifically because of my father.
But having living superheroes at the Guardians’ level was still more important, probably.
“Very impressive,” Japanoid said dryly as we entered what could be called the command center of this place.
I already had a rough idea of what to expect from a secret superhero lair.
It was hard to surprise the old-timers either.
But Angel gasped in admiration at each new display of technological advancement and financial wastefulness by the creator of this place.
For example, this room had several dozen monitors showing images not only from hidden cameras around the base but also from other locations around the planet and beyond that required attention.
There were also several screens broadcasting images from satellites in Earth orbit.
There must be some kind of automatic system that tracked all these events itself, something like an AI that only alerted Darkwing to the most important incidents.
That meant all these monitors were not only excessive but also turned on now just to impress the guests.
“Showing off is more expensive than it’s worth,” I commented.
Oleg chuckled.
“Oh, that’s definitely true about Darkwing.”
The intellectual leader of the Guardians of the Planet, the Immortal was still the ideological leader, wasn’t present.
Otherwise, he’d have participated in the fight against the monster.
And overall, the base looked pretty empty.
Having lost Brit along the way, who’d gone to wash off Ave Maria’s innards, Oleg led us to the medical bay, where the Immortal was already bored, wrapped in bandages.
Only a robot medic was looking after him, unwilling to engage in conversation, just voicing instructions for the patient, which drove him crazy.
“Oh, you finally came back!” The Immortal noticed his comrades’ arrival.
“I was afraid you’d leave me alone again with these tin cans, like last time.”
For a man whose guts had been spilled an hour ago, the Immortal looked remarkably energetic.
He hadn’t yet risked getting out of bed and lay there with his chest wrapped in bandages, but he was conscious and quite lively.
In self-healing ability, this guy surpassed even Viltrumites.
At least, I hadn’t heard my father say that we could survive decapitation.
And interestingly, there was no sign of displeasure or surprise that Oleg and Aquarius had brought outsiders into their lair.
Maybe I was overestimating the secrecy.
Maybe they had tours for the public here every weekend.
“But the kids these days are sensitive.
They got all worried you’d fall apart without their attention.”
He nodded toward Angel, who was walking ahead of me.
“So I owe this beautiful young lady a debt of gratitude,” a servile, sly smile crept onto the Immortal’s face.
His voice changed as soon as he spoke to the girl.
There was a fawning quality to it.
The old man clearly liked the young girl.
And it was hard to blame him.
Angel had a great figure, and her tight costume only emphasized it.
“I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”
Judging by how Britney rolled her eyes, I wasn’t the only one who noticed the change in the Immortal’s behavior.
“Oh, I know that tone.
Hold your horses, old man.” She interrupted the Immortal, cutting off his attempt to flirt with Angel.
“And don’t you dare fall for it, girl.”
“I wasn’t…” Angel hesitated, not knowing how to behave.
“Little Britney, when did you get so rude?” The Immortal immediately responded to the attack.
“I remember you being different.”
“I’ve seen enough perverts in my time,” Britney said glumly, giving the patient such a dismissive, contemptuous look that only women can give.
“Like your brother?” The Immortal smirked.
“How old was his stripper girlfriend when they started dating?
Seventeen, sixteen, or even younger?”
Britney grinned back.
Although she couldn’t come up with a sufficiently biting response right away, she didn’t think of backing down and bickered with the Immortal for a few more minutes.
So much for visiting a wounded comrade.
Honestly, I couldn’t tell if these two genuinely disliked each other or if it was just friendly ribbing.
I didn’t bother listening to their entire argument.
Instead, I also used the local facilities to clean up after the fight.
My costume might be waterproof, but I’d been hugging Ave Maria’s tentacles, and my hair was still full of her secretions.
Fortunately, the costume was originally designed for underwater activity and was easy to clean.
It was a bit strange to shower without taking off the costume, but I didn’t have any spare clothes anyway.
Actually, nothing terrible would have happened if I’d changed into civilian clothes.
Oleg and the other Guardians, thanks to Darkwing’s drones, had seen my face last time.
Only the newcomers and the old-timers were unaware of my appearance.
But I didn’t think that would be a problem.
My father never really got close to anyone except Rosenbaum.
And he certainly never showed off photos of his son to his colleagues.
Probably because he understood that sooner or later he’d have to make enemies of all the other Earth heroes.
Only Art, Cecil, and the people in the Agency who worked directly under Cecil and watched our house knew about his human family.
So I thought about it and decided that nothing terrible would happen if I showed my face to the others.
Especially since I’d feel a bit stupid being the only one wearing a mask.
Red Rush had taken his off as soon as we got on the plane.
***
As I exited the shower, I immediately smelled something vaguely familiar and appetizing coming from a side corridor.
That’s right, Oleg had mentioned a cafeteria.
Perfect timing.
Giving in to temptation, I decided to check out what smelled so good.
Besides, I couldn’t remember where I knew that smell from.
The corridor led me to a pleasantly furnished room with a round table in the center, where almost all the other men from our group, except Japanoid, if “male” even applies to him, had already gathered.
Even the Immortal had been wheeled in on a mobile gurney, which he’d already transferred to from his hospital bed.
How fast he healed.
Besides me and Aquarius, everyone else was already in civilian clothes.
Brit had never worn a costume in the first place.
Oleg had changed into shorts, fresh bandages visible on his leg wound, and a t-shirt instead of his torn uniform.
The Immortal had been wearing something like a medical pajama.
The ladies were probably still getting ready elsewhere.
But the source of the smell.
I hadn’t recognized it because I’d never eaten it in this life, but I remembered it from one of my past lives.
It was shawarma.
A lot of shawarma, to be precise.
Aquarius already had several crumpled paper wrappers next to him from devoured portions, and he was holding one in each hand, taking bites from them alternately. New chapters come out on g.com first.
What a glutton.
“You’re not supposed to be eating yet,” the robot medic suddenly said, hovering behind the Immortal’s gurney.
“Fuck off, tin can,” the patient waved it away.
“I’ve been in this body for several thousand years.
I know better than anyone what I can and can’t do.”
“Then I must inform you that I am no longer responsible for your health!” the robot declared and wheeled away on its platform with wheels instead of legs.
Wait.
This machine had emotions, and it got offended by the hero’s disregard?
“Yeah, don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” the ungrateful patient muttered after it.
Aquarius was the first to notice me.
He made an unintelligible sound, his mouth full, but judging by his inviting hand gesture, it was a welcome.
Celebrating a victory over a monster with shawarma?
Why not?
It was a trans-universal superhero tradition.
And traditions, as we know, should be respected and used to one’s advantage when possible.
I sat down next to Aquarius, who seemed oddly pleased, and took a portion of shawarma.
“Oh, Invincible,” the Immortal sarcastically turned his attention to me.
“The guys told me how you took that thing apart.
Too bad I didn’t see it myself.”
Brit, sitting on my other side, looked at the Immortal with displeasure.
“Weren’t there your drones with cameras?” I was surprised.
“Judging by what I saw in that room, Darkwing has eyes everywhere.”
“Exactly!” The Immortal brightened.
But Brit, on the contrary, suddenly looked sad and gave me a withering look.
“Just don’t give them the footage…” he began.
“To me?” A cheerful voice came from behind me.
“I already made myself copies in high resolution and from multiple angles.
It’s all here on Becky.
Oh, and she liked your performance too.”
Britney, who’d changed her clothes again but not her revealing style, grinning nonstop and shaking her phone, which sparked with electricity, landed next to me, right across from her brother.
A little further away, Angel, who’d changed into a surprisingly modest dress compared to her hero costume, and Japanoid silently joined us.
“Oh,” Brit groaned, rubbing his temples.
Universes change, but some things remain the same.
Like the relationship between brothers and sisters who never stop teasing each other, even when they’re old as dirt and both are superheroes.
I suddenly felt someone’s gaze on me a little too long.
You know that feeling.
Nothing mystical or supernatural this time.
Just my peripheral vision noticing a suspiciously long lack of movement to my left.
Turning, I saw Britney staring at me with an unreadable expression.
“What?
Is there something on my face?” I asked, looking into the woman’s eyes.
“You seemed older,” she said with some disappointment.
Yeah, even if you added up all three of my lives, I’d probably still be young enough to be her son, or close to it.
I didn’t know exactly how old they were, but rumor had it Brit had been working for the Agency for about half a century.
Before that, they’d both been soldiers in several wars.
Plus, they both aged slowly.
Britney, obviously, better than her brother.
But Brit looked at least fifty.
“Is that a problem for you?” I asked again, not quite sure where this was going.
“Not really…” she said vaguely, finally looking away.
What was that?
“Heh heh,” the Immortal laughed through his gut pain.
“And she was lecturing me.”
Oh, really?
She was disappointed because I was too young for her?
Hmm.