THE MOMENT
"Plasmatronic....," WeatherGal groaned after crashing through the ceiling. She landed in Plasmatronic's garage where he and his friend, Icesickle were rehearsing for their next show. Both men rushed to the woman's side. Her left arm was missing below the elbow and it wasn't the only place she was bleeding from. Her blue pencil sheath dress was stained purple and still moist in several spots. "..he's too strong..," she wheezed while trying to keep her eyes open. She was getting tired. "beat.. every.. one..," WeatherGal's head went slack and her eyes glazed over as she stared at nothing.
"WeatherGal?" Plasmatronic shook her gently; but, she did not respond. "We'll take care of it..," he replied with a somber tone as he gently rested her head against the floor. Then, he closed her eyes.
"None of the current villains are this brutal...," Icesickle shook his head with a sigh. "This is someone new," he concluded. "Do you think they really beat everyone?" he asked. The concern was obvious in his voice.
"Of course not," Plasmatronic shook his head. "They're too strong, maybe she just meant everyone that was there. Let's go take a look," he said. They rushed to their shared arsenal to gear up. Plasmatronic put on a pair of electronic gauntlets that allowed him to channel plasma from the stars themselves. Icesickle's powers were innate; but, after seeing what happened to WeatherGal, he decided to put on some extra armor.
"Of course she died while I was out of range...," a new, disappointed voice spoke up suddenly. Both men whirled around to see a wide, circular section of the garage door missing. A pale teenager with a sharp widow's peak stepped into the garage and focused on the two of them. He wore black jeans with a black T-shirt.
"You did this?" Plasmatronic asked. His gauntlets began to glow with orange light. The teen stared at them for a moment, he seemed to be debating his answer. Then, he gave a short, curt nod.
"I did," he said. That was all the two men needed. They were best friends and their teamwork reflected that. Ice spikes shot up from the floor to trap the teen; and, at the same moment, Plasmatronic used both his hands to fire the hottest beam he could manage.
"You guys aren't registered with a Super team," the teen said. His voice was surprisingly casual considering he was taking stellar plasma to the face. Plasmatronic ceased fire out of curiosity. The teen was only missing a thin layer of skin when the beam stopped, and it healed instantly before their eyes. Then, he took a step forward out of the spikes, equally unbothered. "I don't need to kill you; but, I'm not against it either," he said. "Just tell me where to find another Super team around here and I'll be out of your way."
"Why?" Icesickle asked. "So you can kill them too?" The teen chuckled.
'Yeah," he nodded. "That's kind of the point."
"But, you spared us... just because we're not on a team? What's wrong with Super teams?" Plasmatronic asked. The teen's expression soured a bit.
"I haven't spared you yet," he said. "I've only spared you so far. Don't push it with questions, I'm not in the mood," he answered. Then, he turned around. "If you're not going to answer me, then I'll move on."
"Oren!" a new voice made Plasmatronic and Icesickle tense up. They were ready to try again once he turned his back to him; but, a pink-haired teen girl ran up the teen in black, and got in their way.
"Hey, Justice...," Oren replied. His tone was a notable contrast from his strong voice moments before. He sounded almost defeated when he spoke to her. It was apparent she was someone he knew and even trusted. Plasmatronic turned and nodded at Icesickle; then, he inched closer to see what he could overhear.
The nod gave Icesickle the go-ahead to start storing energy. Unlike Plasmatronic, Icesickle could not use his strongest attacks instantly. He needed time to gather cold energy. Plasmatronic moving forward was also part of the plan; if Oren turned around too early, he would distract him until Icesickle was ready.
"....it's not the end of the world," Justice said. Plasmatronic was close enough to hear everything.
"Obviously...," Oren sighed. "I've still got you. But everyone backed out of my tournament. You're the only one that actually wants to spend my birthday with me." Plasmatronic felt a chill run down his spine, and he hoped that Oren didn't notice it. The temperature drop meant Icesickle was almost ready.
"So, forget the tournament," Justice said. "It's still your birthday and I'm gonna spend it with you; but, I have a better idea."
"What's that?" Oren asked. Plasmatronic tensed when Justice stepped closer and hugged Oren. He didn't know a thing about her and he assumed she was innocent of Oren's murder spree. Icesickle's attack would hit both of them. The temperature in the garage continued to drop.
"Will you be my date to the Prom?" Justice asked.
"The prom?" Oren asked. When he spoke, the vapor from his breath was visible. That was something he did notice. "Hold on," he said. He turned and looked at Plasmatronic, then Icesickle. A red crown shape glowed in the center of his pale forehead, just below the widow's peak.
"Go kill each other somewhere else, I'm busy," he said. Plasmatronic turned and charged at Icesickle; he pushed him through the wall and they continued to brawl outside. Then, Oren turned back to Justice. A ghost of a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. He was still bitter that no one else wanted to participate in his tournament; but, somehow Justice always managed to cheer him up. He decided he wanted to enjoy her company more often.
"Yeah, I'd like that," he said.