Hero Go Home

Previously: A whole lot of stuff happened. And now…

EPILOGUE ONE

 “My mother gave me this. She got it from her mother, who got it from her mother before her,” said the old woman as she fastened the necklace around young Yu Qi’s throat.

“It’s beautiful,” Yu Qi said, admiring herself in the mirror. “That blue stone is so pretty.”

“Your great-great-great-grandfather was from Mongolia,” said the old woman. “That stone is only found there. It’s extremely rare.”

“And valuable?” Yu Qi asked eagerly, spinning around.

“No,” her grandmother said. “I had it appraised. The jeweler said the color was unusual, but otherwise it seemed to be common quartz.”

“But why are you giving it to me now?” asked Yu Qi.

A shadow passed over the grandmother’s face. “I just… There are some things you just don’t want to put off any longer.”

Yu Qi nodded. The massacre in the market had seemed to have left its mark on her grandmother, though no one would tell Yu Qi exactly what had happened. “Thank you, grandmother. I’ll treasure it for the rest of my life.”

Yu Qi left her grandmother’s room and went outside. She admired the way the sunlight sparkled in the blue crystal and almost made it glow. She walked down to the secluded grove where she had been spending more and more time lately. At first, she had been upset that her grandmother had wanted to see her, thinking she would be denied her time at the grove. But now she was happy, with a new necklace and lots of time left in the afternoon before she had to go study.

She was so happy that her feet left the ground almost the moment she stepped behind the firs screening her from the road. She lifted up several inches and twirled in the air, and it almost seemed as if she could hear distant laughter, echoing her happiness.

 EPILOGUE TWO

 Jing Guo looked up from his reading when a shadow fell across his comic. A white man stood before him, with two duffel bags, one slung over each shoulder. “What do you want?” Jing Guo asked.

“Excuse me,” the man said in accented Mandarin. He pointed at something over Jing Guo’s left shoulder. “That’s my car. I came to get it.”

Jing Guo turned and looked to see a battered old Tianjin. He turned back to the man. “That car was impounded because it belongs to an enemy of our glorious Czar.”

“Well, seeing as how there is no more Czar, that can hardly be a crime, can it?” asked the man.

Jing Guo did not try too hard to conceal his distaste for the abstract question. Jing Guo had no time to deal in abstracts. “Do you have papers releasing it from impound?”

“No,” the man said.

Jing Guo sucked air in through his teeth. “Without papers, it will be difficult.”

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]“They’re smart girls,” Digger said. “I’m sure they found ways to spend the time.”[/blockquote]He resumed his reading. Stupid foreigners and their stupid assumptions that you would just jump to do whatever they wanted. The man would probably offer a bribe next, which Jing Guo would of course accept, but it would make him respect the man even less.

But there was no offer of a bribe. Instead, the man’s shadow grew larger somehow, and when Jing Guo looked up to tell the man to stop blocking his light, the words died unspoken in his throat. He offered the return of the car instead, without objection, papers or no papers.

Some men, you didn’t say no to.

 EPILOGUE THREE

 Digger attracted stares in the lobby of the hotel in Shanghai, but no one challenged him. The trip from Mongolia had been mostly uneventful after a hairy bit getting across the border into China. News of the Czar’s disappearance had spread, and the Chinese government had apparently stopped worrying so much about Cole and Digger to concentrate on the power vacuum that had just opened up to their north.

“You think the girls had any trouble after we left?” Digger asked as they rode the elevator to the sixth floor.

“I wouldn’t think so,” Cole said. “I mean, they ditched the disguises right after they left us, right?”

“Yeah, but still…” Digger said as the elevator stopped and the doors dinged open. He continued the thought as they walked down the hall. “Two heroes from America start an international incident, and not an hour later, two American women check into a hotel in the same city? Had to set off some alarm bells.”

“They’re smart girls,” Cole said. “I’m sure they figured something out. I’m more worried that they were bored out of their skulls. Even shoe shopping gets old after a while.”

“They’re smart girls,” Digger said. “I’m sure they found ways to spend the time.”

Cole stopped in front of room 696 and knocked on the door. They heard shuffling and banging, and a shadow passed across the peep hole. There was another pause during which Digger heard a brief whispered conversation, and then Amanda opened the door a crack.

“Hey,” she said. “I’m going to need you to come in quick, okay?”

“Okay,” Cole said.

Amanda threw the door open and said, “Hurry, hurry. Don’t let it out.”

Cole and Digger rushed through the door as a furious racket ensued. Amanda slammed the door behind them, and Digger saw a large blue parrot flapping around the large main room of the suite, squawking wildly. Feathers drifted down onto a Chinese man dressed in an undershirt, boxers, and black socks with garters. He was strapped to a chair with duct tape and looked at them with terrified eyes, though he couldn’t say anything around the gag. A blowtorch sat on a small table next to him, beside a velvet bag from which spilled sparkling stones that looked to Digger like sapphires. Someone had drawn crude maps of a building on the window in marker. Off in one corner was a pile of cardboard boxes. One was open to reveal rubber balls in the shape of cute monster heads.

“Excuse the mess,” Amanda said as she pushed past them to clear a thick layer of Chinese newspapers and what looked like blueprints off the couch. Amanda was dressed in an outfit of skintight black latex with spike-heeled boots. Her blonde hair was tied back in a cute ponytail, and she wore a white wristwatch trimmed with white fur.

The parrot settled on the back of an expensive wingback chair that was liberally dotted with splotches that showed it to have been the parrot’s perch for some time.

Tiffany walked out of one of the bedrooms counting a thick stack of money. She wore an ornate dress that looked like a cross between something Scarlett O’Hara would have worn at Tara and vampire fetish garb, deep red and covered with lace. A gas mask dangled by its straps from her wrist. She looked up, saw Digger and Cole, and shook her head. “Well, it’s about damn time.”

 THE END

Thanks for reading.

To read from the beginning, click here…

Previously: Having defeated the Cobalt Czar and his ethereal enforcer, Ghost Dragon, Digger and Cole were saying their goodbyes to Twain. And now…

Digger held out his hand.

Twain looked at it warily. “What’s this?”

“I thought, you know… Shake hands,” Digger said.

“Why?” Twain asked. “We haven’t exactly been on the same side through all of this.”

Digger withdrew his hand, shrugged, and nodded. “I know. I should probably be more pissed than I am at the way you dragged me into all of this. But you know, we stole a magical artifact together. We beat up the Big Apple Corps together. We traveled in time, separately, but still… We came halfway around the world and brought down the most powerful bad guy on the planet together, so it’s not like the time was wasted. And it’s not like you haven’t paid a price.”

Twain nodded at that. “Yeah. It’s not like that.”

“So?”

Twain took a deep breath and held out his hand. Digger shook it. “Next time I see you, though, I’ll be putting your ass in jail,” Digger said.

“Next time you see me, you’ll probably be in jail,” Twain said.

Digger nodded and stepped back. He got into the passenger side of the limo. Standing next to the driver’s side, Cole put on a pair of sunglasses and said, “Later, dude.”

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”left”]Under a small pile of stones, Bogdan found a shirt and a pair of pants, with shoes and underwear nearby…[/blockquote]He got into the car, and a moment later, it lifted off the ground with a creak of its shocks and zipped silently down the road and out of sight. Twain watched for a few more moments, then sighed and turned away.

He walked away from the neighborhood of the palace and to the flattened remains of the foreign ghetto where Yi Fan’s house had stood. Bits of the ruined house had been spraypainted with foul insults, and here and there, Twain found small piles of human feces left on top of the piles of fallen brick. He began to dig through the wreckage anyway, moving the piles of fallen brick and timber aside methodically, looking for a cylinder that could contain a scroll.

As he was so occupied, Bogdan was also digging through wreckage. He pored through the piles of stone where the City of the Moon had once stood, seeking a lost canvas bag containing a golden mask, as the voice of the Ghost moaned faintly nearby. Under a small pile of stones, Bogdan found a shirt and a pair of pants, with shoes and underwear nearby. They were whole and in good condition, as if someone had just taken them off and left them there.

In the limo, as the border of the former Czar’s former territory faded into the distance in the rear view mirror, Cole turned to Digger and said, “You know, I did as much to beat the Czar as you and that other guy did.”

“Yeah, you did,” Digger said, staring out the window.

“So why didn’t you give me a little credit when you and he were having your little lovefest back there.”

“Why should you care if I give you credit?” Digger asked. “I’m sure you’ll give yourself plenty when we get back to the girls.”

“So not the point,” Cole said, but didn’t elaborate as they continued down the road.

Don’t miss our next and FINAL episode!

To read from the beginning, click here…

Previously: Digger told Twain he needed to give up on time travel and let Yi Fan go. And now…

Twain gritted his teeth and thumped one huge blue fist against the ground, sending out vibrations for hundreds of feet. “No, I can… I… Damn it!”

He stood up and stalked away from them. Instead of picking his way over the rocks, he just plowed right through them.

“Where are you going?” Digger asked.

“Away from you,” he said. “Otherwise, I might hurt you.”

Bogdan, Cole and Digger sat looking at each other in silence. A couple of minutes later, they heard Twain scream, and the ground shook. After perhaps another minute of shouting and smashing, they saw a bright blue flash, and then all was still. Some time later, Twain walked back to where they still sat huddled around Yi Fan’s body. He was no longer big, nor was he blue. He was, however, still naked.

“What happened to you?” Digger asked.

“Power wore off,” Twain said. “Used it all up, I guess.”

“That never happened to me,” Bogdan said.

“You were connected to the crystals,” Twain said. “They probably kept you fueled up. But now they’re gone.”

“Yeah,” Bogdan said, and they heard the Ghost moaning faintly on the breeze. “All gone. Pretty much.”

They sat silently for a few moments until finally Digger said, “Okay, I can’t stand this anymore. You guys need to put some pants on.”

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]“I’ll get us all some pants,” Cole said. “Pants will fix everything.” [/blockquote]“Oh, well let me just step into the pants store and grab a pair!” Twain said. “Oh, look. Everything’s blown up! And you should talk. The only thing holding your pants together is two strings and a prayer.”

“Yeah, I was kinda too busy getting blown through walls to notice!” Digger barked back. “Cole, will you please fly to the palace and get these guys some pants.”

Cole nodded and stood up, his own clothes barely holding together. “I’ll get us all some pants,” Cole said. “Pants will fix everything.”

“Not nearly everything,” Digger said, “but it’s a start.”

***

Digger and Cole discussed heading back for Shanghai the next day, but they ended up sleeping through most of it. So they did the next best thing and got drunk with Bogdan and Twain. At some point during the evening, Rada the healer joined them, and at some later point, she and Bogdan disappeared. Digger wondered if she knew exactly who Bogdan was.

Neither of them showed up to see Digger and Cole off the next morning, either. Twain stood with them next to one of the Czar’s limousines whihc Cole had appropriated. After all, he argued, the Czar wasn’t exactly going to be using it anymore.

“You guys be careful on the way back to Shanghai,” Twain said. “You’re still fugitives.”

“I know,” Digger said. “What about you? You’re not staying, are you?”

“Not past the funeral,” Twain said. “Once I’ve got Yi Fan taken care of properly, I’ll be following you. I won’t be far behind, don’t worry.”

“Well, I guess this is goodbye then,” Digger said. And then he did almost the last thing Twain expected.

See you tomorrow.

To read from the beginning, click here…

Previously: Twain tried to use his power to bring Yi Fan back to life, but failed. Then he announced a new plan to save her. And now…

“Leave it alone,” Digger said as Twain surged to his feet.

“No!’ Twain said. “I can still do this. I can find another piece of the cup. I can go back and…”

“No, you can’t!” Digger interrupted. “Time travel never helps. Never.”

“How can you say that?” Twain asked. “It’s what let me plant the mask in the City of the Moon, where you found it and used it to beat the Ghost. That helped.”

“Maybe,” Digger said. “Or maybe it made things worse, only we haven’t figured out how yet. But if you never believe anything else I say, believe this: time travel never helps. The universe can’t let it.”

“Why not?”

“Because… Okay, think about, say, Dealey Plaza when Kennedy was assassinated,” Digger said. “Can you imagine the truly epic parade of upfuckery if it turned out you really could go back in time and fix things? I mean, just imagine an infinite future of superpowered do-gooders appearing out of nowhere, faced off against an equal number of people trying to put history back the way it should have been? God, just the assassinations alone: John Kennedy, Robert Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Archduke Ferdinand, Abraham Lincoln, Julius Caesar? John Lennon, for Christ’s sake?

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”left”]Can you imagine the truly epic parade of upfuckery if it turned out you really could go back in time and fix things?[/blockquote]“Can you imagine the skies over Pearl Harbor, or Hiroshima? Half of them trying to stop the bomb while the other half try to preserve history and stop the war? All of history would be a series of smoking craters. And that’s just the major stuff. How many assholes would end up in Janis Joplin’s bathroom, trying to keep her from overdosing? Like we really need more Janis Joplin songs.”

“What are you talking about?” Twain asked. “This is about Yi Fan, not some has-been pop star.”

“I know,” Digger said. “But the principle is the same. Do you have any idea how the people here hated and feared her? And with the City of the Moon destroyed, it won’t be long until the people here begin manifesting super powers. I mean, even if you could come up with a way to go back and save her instead of making things worse, do you think you could actually live in peace? No. You’d spend the rest of your life going back over and over to stop people from killing her as a baby.”

“Let ‘em come,” Twain said. “I’m stronger than all of them.”

“That’s not the…” Digger sighed. “The point is that the universe can’t work that way. If time travel worked the way you want it to work, people could spend their entire lives replaying the same moment over and over. Doesn’t matter whether it’s the worst moment in their lives, or the best. What matters is that they would be wasting all the new moments they could have, trying to fix something that can never be truly fixed, trying to make things perfect. You can’t live that way. You have to keep moving forward in life, not backward. Let her go, Jeff.”

No more questions. No more teases. Join us for the next episode.

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Previously: With the destruction of the City of the Moon and the defeat of Ghost Dragon, everything seemed to be resolved. But then Twain began to dig frantically through the rubble. And now…

“What are you doing?” Digger asked.

Twain didn’t answer, but merely sat back once he had uncovered a portion of what he was looking for.

Yi Fan.

The rocks had partially crushed her face, but her head was still intact. Twain flung aside the rest of the rocks covering her body as the Ghost faintly wailed his displeasure from the fragments of crystal which remained.

“I’m sorry, man,” said Digger. “I mean, I know she was like, the evil enforcer for the Czar or whatever, but… I don’t know, she seemed all right.”

“She was,” said Twain. “And she will be again.”

Twain gently cupped Yi Fan’s head between his hands and summoned the River’s power. Yi Fan’s body began to glow from the inside. Digger watched in fascination as her face reshaped itself, the broken pieces of bone realigning and fusing under her skin.

And then her limbs twitched and her eyes opened.

Twain smiled. “She’s alive,” he said.

Yi Fan’s eyes moved randomly, looking at the world without really seeing it. Her fingers scratched and slapped at the ground, her arms and tensed and shook, but she made no effort to get up.

“What’s happening?” Twain asked.

“I don’t know,” Digger said. “It’s like everything’s working, but not together.”

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]Our lives are made of scars.[/blockquote]“Her brain is damaged,” Twain said. “I can fix that.”

“Wait,” said Cole. “Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve seen it happen before,” said Cole. “And it’s not something you want to see. Especially with someone you love.”

“What are you talking about?” Twain asked. He let the glow fade. Yi Fan’s spasms continued for a few seconds, then subsided.

Digger placed a hand on her chest. “Her heart stopped.”

“I can start it again,” Twain said. He turned to Cole. “But why do you say I can’t fix her?”

“Because the brain isn’t like other organs,” Cole said. “Boon explained it to me, the other time. Other organs, you pretty much want to keep them intact, like new. But the brain is constantly being changed inside, by our experiences. New pathways are formed that harden into memories. Everything that defines you–your personality, your past–they’re like scars in your brain, a series of pathways that is unique to you. Our lives are made of scars.”

“And if I heal her brain, I heal the scars,” Twain said. “She wouldn’t remember me.”

“She wouldn’t remember anything,” Cole said. “If you’re lucky. If you’re not lucky, you’ll do the other thing.”

“What other thing?”

“You’ll cause the neurons to grow out of control,” Cole said. “Everything will connect to everything else. She won’t just remember everything, but it will all, her entire life, seem to be happening to her at the same time. It’s…” He shook his head. “You don’t want to see someone go through that. Seriously. You can’t bring her back.”

Twain laid Yi Fan’s head on the ground and bowed his head in thought. After a moment, he said, “I can still save her. There’s another way.”

What’s Twain’s plan? Can it succeed? Find out in our next episode!

To read from the beginning, click here…

Previously: Twain was released from the Ghost’s possession when Cole cut off his hand. And now…

“Son of a bitch!” Twain shouted. The fallen rocks all around him rumbled in sympathy. “You’ve got to find a different way of doing that.”

A howl arose from the crystal at Twain’s feet, but Digger destroyed the shard with a small Driller blast. The tiny rush of power felt to Twain like eating a wafer-thin mint after a huge meal. The energy was pulsing in his head like the world’s worst migraine, and in his chest, making it hard to breathe.

“Welcome to the club,” said Bogdan. He slowly sat up and rubbed his head. “I have a healer in the town. She can grow you a new hand in a few weeks.”

“No need,” said Twain, remembering the way his muscles had grown and his wounds had closed just a couple of minutes ago. He let go of his stump and snatched his hand off the ground. Bright red blood spurted out of his arm, but Twain held his severed hand to the stump, and within a few seconds, the bleeding had slowed to a dribble as the cells rejoined.

Twain let go with his other hand. The formerly severed hand stayed in place. He flexed his fingers experimentally. They moved, but slowly. The sensation felt vague and distant, as if he were moving the fingers by remote control, or perhaps making them move by telekinesis rather than through nerves and muscles.

“Neat trick,” said Digger.

“See? No harm done,” Cole added.

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]The sensation felt vague and distant, as if he were moving the fingers by remote control, or perhaps making them move by telekinesis rather than through nerves and muscles…[/blockquote]“No!” said the Ghost’s voice. It was tinny and attentuated, as if heard through a telephone handset from the other end of the room. Twain saw the image of the Ghost forming from watery vapor above the few glowing crystal shards that still remained. “You haven’t beaten me yet. I still have the power of my hate, just like when I was in Yi Fan.”

“Do you?” asked Twain. “Because you don’t look so strong anymore. Maybe you lost it when crystals’ power was released.”

“No, believe me, I…” Whatever else he said was drowned out by a boom as Digger destroyed another fragment.

Twain felt another tiny trickle of new power. As Digger turned toward the next fragment, Twain held up his hand and said, “Wait. Don’t destroy them all.”

“Why not?” Digger asked.

“Because he’s weak now,” Twain said. “But if you destroy all the crystals, you might release his spirit to possess one of us. Better to leave him trapped in his teeny-tiny little prisons.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Digger said. He looked up at Twain’s massive form. “Jeez, you’re huge. Looks like you’re the new Czar now. What are you going to do with all that power?”

“I don’t know,” Twain said, rubbing at his aching head. “Feels like I could do just about anything. Anything I could imagine.”

He looked at the hand he had just willed to reattach itself and flexed his fingers again. What had the Ghost said? Control life and death itself…

Twain whirled and began to dig frantically through the piles of fallen rock.

This is it. Starting tomorrow – THE FINAL WEEK! Don’t miss Week 44!

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Previously: The Ghost possessed Twain’s body and seized Digger by the throat, strangling him into helplessness. And now…

“Come on, pry the crystal from my hand,” the Ghost told Digger’s limp form. He gave Digger a shake, causing his arms to swing vaguely in the direction of the Ghost’s other hand. “No? Not even a vain attempt?”

The Ghost opened his hand and let Digger drop to the ground. Digger moaned weakly, disoriented by his brief moment of unconsciousness. His arms moved vaguely, and his eyes looked around without focusing on anything, like a prizefighter in the moments after losing a bout by K.O.

“You’re the hero of the world?” the Ghost taunted. “You’re the man who saved everyone from a lifetime in hell? And now look at you! Helpless at my feet! You’re pathetic!”

“And you’re gonna get your ass kicked any second now,” Digger mumbled. He rolled over painfully and tried to push himself to his feet.

“Your bravado never ends!” the Ghost said. “”How will you defeat me when you can’t even stand up?”

The Ghost kicked Digger in the ribs and sent him flying back against a pile of collapsed rock. “Well? Tell me, hero of the world. How will you defeat the strongest man in the world?”

“I never claimed to be some great hero,” Digger groaned. He tried to push himself up on shaking arms. “I just punched this douchebag in the face.”

“Then why does the world worship you so?” asked the Ghost.

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”left”]“I never claimed to be some great hero,” Digger groaned. “I just punched this douchebag in the face.”[/blockquote]“They don’t,” Digger said, waving off the idea. “I mean, look, the dude needed punching, and I was the only guy in the room–you know, other than the guy in the coma–so I stepped up and did it. And the whole world saw it happen, so they’ve kinda’ had to be nice to me ever since. But here’s the thing: everyone wants to tell themselves that they would do the same thing if they were in the same situation, but a lot of ‘em, in their heart of hearts, know they really wouldn’t. So I think as much as they admire me, they also resent me. They don’t worship me; they just never had a good opportunity to say so. This whole mess, with the bank robbery and everything, will probably give them that reason. The internet trolls are probably all over it already, and by the time I get back, I’ll be last week’s flavor. And by the way, you are welcome to step up here any time now.”

“You want me to ‘step up?’” the Ghost asked. “Are you in a hurry to die?”

“Actually,” said a voice from behind the Ghost, “I think he was talking to me.”

The Ghost Twain turned and saw Cole Chen standing behind him. He snarled, and his right hand came off.

As blood sprayed from the stump, the fist bounced on the ground. The fingers opened, and the crystal came out. Twain groaned and clutched at the stump to stanch the flow of blood.

“Sorry, dude,” Metalord said, “but I had to get him out of you.”

Jeez, what is it with me and cutting off hands in this story? Don’t miss the next episode, because at this point, I have no idea how many episodes I have left in the tank!

To read from the beginning, click here…

Previously: As Digger destroyed the crystals of the City of the Moon, Twain was possessed by Ghost Dragon. And now…

The next time Digger burst up from the ground to destroy a batch of crystals, a beam of blue energy struck him. He screamed as his skin sizzled, and he was flung to the side. He tried to roll to his feet, but even trying to initiate movement caused blinding pain to pulse through his body.

As he lay on the ground in agony, he heard heavy footsteps pound up beside him. He groaned and forced himself to stand. Once he got his muscles moving, the agony receded enough that he could stand upright. “Twain? What the hell?”

Digger’s vision cleared enough to realize that Twain was a lot bigger than before–at least fifteen feet tall–and that the glowing energy coruscating all around him formed the mocking visage of Ghost Dragon. “I thought you were stuck in the crystals,” Digger said.

“I am,” said the Ghost. He held up his right fist, closed around the shard of crystal from the palace. “I possess the crystals and anybody in contact with them.”

Twain’s massive left hand shot out and grabbed Digger around the throat. Digger gagged as he was lifted from the ground. “You know, I could take you as well. Force you to touch one of the few remaining unbroken crystals in the cavern and possess you, body and soul. Do you know why I don’t?”

Digger used what strength he had remaining to lift himself against Ghost Twain’s massive hand so he could breathe a little. “No,” he gasped.

“I don’t need you,” the Ghost Twain said. “I’m in possession of the most powerful creature on Earth. I don’t need anyone or anything else. The only reason you’re still alive is that I enjoy watching the despair when people realize how impotent they are. I enjoy watching the hope drain from their eyes as they understand, really understand for the first time, not only their imminent death, but their utter helplessness in the face of my power.”

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Digger croaked. “You’re still stuck inside the crystals? You’re only able to possess Twain because he’s holding a crystal in that hand?”

The Ghost Twain gave Digger a shake that flung his body about as if he had no skeleton at all. “Weren’t you paying attention? Yes, that’s exactly the situation.”

Digger pulled himself up again to keep from simply hanging by his neck in the Ghost Twain’s grip His clinging powers kept his hands from slipping off the blue giant’s skin, but his strength was failing and black spots were swimming before his eyes. “So all I have to do is knock the crystal out of your hand, and you’ll lose your grip on Twain.”

The Ghost threw his head back and laughed at the sky. “Yes, that’s all you have to do. But you’ll never get the chance to try.”

The Ghost Twain’s grip tightened, and Digger’s vision blurred. His hands slipped off of Twain’s arm and fell limp at his sides.

Is this the end for Digger? Given that my next project has nothing to do with superheroes or Digger’s world (well, almost nothing), could I really intend to kill him off? The episodes have almost run out; don’t miss the next one now!

To read from the beginning, click here…

Previously: Digger and Twain launched their final attack against the Ghost, with Digger destroying the crystals while Twain absorbed the energy released. And now…

Looming over Twain was a man in the uniform of the Czar’s palace guards. His eyes were rolled back in his head, and a nimbus of blue energy  formed the familiar image of the Ghost. “I’ve won,” said the Ghost as the guard lunged at Twain.

“Not even close,” Twain said as he kicked the guard back and rolled to his feet. Digger erupted from the ground again, releasing more energy which Twain drew into himself. He felt himself grow, as if the energy were inflating him like a balloon. He was almost ten feet tall now. After Digger disappeared below the earth again, Twain said, “You couldn’t beat the Czar when you were in Yi Fan, and I’m more powerful than he was. How can you hope to beat me with this security guard?”

“I don’t have to beat you,” the Ghost whispered in his ear as the guard lurched forward again. Twain reached out to grab him, but rather than dodge the hand, the guard simply pressed something against Twain’s palm.

A tiny shard of blue crystal.

Mocking laughter filled Twain’s head. Lightning jolted through his nerves, and his fist closed around the crystal. He lost all strength and fell limp. Except that his body was still standing. He could barely see through the crackling blue nimbus surrounding him, could barely hear above the howling of the whirlwind surrounding him.

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”left”]The thing would be upon them in a few more steps. Shin’s finger tightened on the trigger of his service revolver…[/blockquote]The ground shook as Digger burst out of the ground once more, and Twain instinctively absorbed the energy, growing ever larger. “Yes,” the Ghost said, “feed me all of it! Who needs a cave full of crystals when I can possess the body of the strongest creature on Earth?”

***

Police surrounded the market in Tianjin where the savage creature was conducting its rampage. They were under orders not to engage until local heroes Tiger Strike and Cloud arrived to confront the super-powered menace, but it seemed as if they might not have a choice. The creature did not seem content with merely destroying traders’ stalls. As the crowds fled, he followed. He was now drawing dangerously close to the cordon, close enough that Sergeant Shin could see that there was an old woman somehow trapped inside the thing.

He didn’t want to shoot the woman, but soon there might be no choice. The thing would be upon them in a few more steps. Shin’s finger tightened on the trigger of his service revolver.

And then a fog rose up around the creature. Shin heard shouts of anger as the thick cloud flashed from within, like a miniature thunderstorm. The creature stepped out of the cloud, but it flowed forward to surround him again, and a moment later, the lithe form of Tiger Strike bounded into the cloud.

Shin waited for the sounds of an epic struggle, but there was nothing. Moments later, the cloud dispersed. Shin could see Tiger Strike standing over the prone form of the old lady, who was moaning feebly.

The monster was gone.

Will Digger figure out that he’s just making the world’s worst enemy more powerful, or is he having too much fun blowing stuff up to care? Don’t miss our next episode!

To read from the beginning, click here…

Previously: Digger, with his powers fully restored, and Twain faced off against Ghost Dragon, who was currently in possession of the City of the Moon, underground source of limitless power. And now…

Digger’s seismic senses warned him that the ceiling would give way a moment before it did, so he was already moving when the rock began to fall. He leaped to stand over Cole and Bogdan and fired the Drillers straight up, pulverizing the rock above them and creating a bubble of safety.

But in the same moment, a huge boulder broke one of the largest crystals off at its base, and the crystal gave up its stored energy in a massive explosion of blue. In that instant, time seemed to slow down for Twain, and he found himself acting on pure instinct, channelling and redirecting the energy upward, so that instead of vaporizing his companions, the energy vaporized the thousands of tons of rock between them and the sky. The entire top of the ridge erupted like a volcano, blowing chunks of rock thousands of feet into the air.

Digger and Twain stood under open sky, mostly dark above and blazing red to the west. They stood on the edge of a forest of glowing crystals, untouched by the blue radiance that had destroyed everything else in its path. The glow coalesced into a shimmering blue aurora above them, which in turn formed itself into the head and shoulders of the Ghost. The revenant screamed its fury to the sky.

“Dude,” Digger said quietly to Twain. “Look at you.”

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]The entire top of the ridge erupted like a volcano, blowing chunks of rock thousands of feet into the air…[/blockquote]Twain looked down. He was blue once again, and maybe it was just the approaching nightfall, but he seemed to be a deeper blue than before. Also, he was big, at least as big as the Cobalt Czar had been. He was so big, in fact, that his clothes had torn away, leaving him naked.

“New plan,” the Cobalt Twain said. “Destroy the crystals.”

“I was going to do that anway,” Digger said. “How is that new?”

The Ghost formed in front of them again. “And he can’t destroy them all,” the Ghost said. “The explosions would kill him before he could destroy more than a few.”

“No,” Twain said. “I can absorb or redirect the energy. No one will die but you.”

“Oh,” Digger said. “That is new.”

And with a boom, he fell into the earth and was gone.

“NO!” shouted the Ghost, but Twain fired another blue beam that shredded his form. The Ghost screamed and reformed as the ground beyond him, in the center of the Grand Cathedral, erupted upward. Digger flew up in a maelstrom of crystal shards and swirling blue energy that Twain drew to himself as he stepped through one of the Chi Kung katas that the old man Pat had taught him, years ago.. The Ghost tried to form a massive claw to catch Digger and stop him plunging into the earth again, but Twain redirected some of the energy to dissolve the grasping hand and more crystals erupted as Digger plunged into the ground once again.

Something hit Twain from behind. He fell to the ground, rolled over, and saw something unexpected.

So something has hit Twain, but if he is as powerful as the Cobalt Czar, what could possibly defeat him? Don’t miss the next episode!

To read from the beginning, click here…