Chapter 60: 60

Nova arrived at the police station. He was furious. His fists clenched at his sides, his body thrumming with barely contained energy. The bombed subway station was still fresh in his mind—the screams, the acrid smoke, the bodies that he couldn't save. Seven lives lost because of this deranged terrorist. And now this. The police headquarters had been hit hard. Three black vans had smashed through the front, and around thirty armed henchmen were flooding the area, overwhelming the officers and civilian staff inside. Gunfire rang out in rapid bursts, the muzzle flashes painting the darkened halls with flickers of red and orange. Officers fought desperately, but they were caught off guard and being slaughtered. Nova didn't hesitate. He slammed into the nearest group of attackers, his enhanced strength sending them flying like ragdolls. One raised his gun, but Nova twisted the air around him, making the weapon's gravity triple in weight. The man yelped as the gun fell from his grip, crushing his hand against the pavement. Effortlessly, Nova manipulated the battlefield—bodies lifted and flung against walls, guns wrenched from hands, enemies subdued within seconds. It was brutal and efficient, and soon, the fight outside was over. He barely spared a glance at the groaning criminals left behind as he sprinted into the building. Then— A gunshot. Nova's sped toward the source, a blurred streak through the bullet-riddled corridors. He burst into a large office and came to a dead stop. A man in a crumpled suit slumped against a desk, blood pooling from a fresh hole in his chest. He gasped for breath, his fingers twitching as if trying to grasp something just out of reach. Then, stillness. Nova's eyes snapped to the shooter. Prankster stood there, a smirk hidden beneath his custom-designed mask. He was tall and thin, his blond hair slicked back. His tailored jacket suit was pristine, as if he hadn't just murdered a man in cold blood. Nova's fury boiled over. He extended his gravitic powers and yanked Prankster forward, lifting him off the ground and pulling him inches from his masked face. "You will never atone for all the destruction you've caused," Nova growled. "For all the innocent lives you've snuffed out." Prankster laughed. "Do you think I give a fuck?" His voice was almost amused, mocking even. "You're acting like there's some grand moral lesson to be learned here." Nova frowned. Most criminals—at least the ones who weren't outright psychopaths—showed some level of self-preservation when confronted with a being like him. But Prankster? He seemed completely unafraid. "What—" "My actions aren't some twisted morality play," Prankster interrupted. "Hell, the mayor never even stole that money. I made it up." Nova's eyes narrowed. "Then why—" "This isn't about money, or politics, or some grand cause," Prankster continued, his voice dipping into something darker. "This is about revenge. A son wanting payback for what this city took from him. And now the whole of Chicago will suffer for it." Nova's stomach twisted. "What did you do?" Prankster chuckled. "While the people riot over my fake accusation, I've set up a little Independence Day surprise. Right now, as we speak, there's a boat full of innocent civilians floating on Lake Michigan. And in less than two minutes, it's going to explode." Nova's pulse thundered in his ears. "You son of a—" "Oh, and that's not all," Prankster added with sick amusement. "Cole's building? Rigged with explosives too. It'll go up at the same time." He tilted his head. "How's that for some Fourth of July fireworks?" Nova didn't think—he just acted. His fist connected with Prankster's face with a sickening crack, sending the man crumpling to the floor in an unconscious heap. No time. Nova tapped his comm. "Carla!" A sigh. "What?" "I know you've been cozying up to the mayor. Get him on the phone and tell him his building is about to explode. Evacuate all civilians now. Please." There was a pause. Then, for the first time since they'd met, she sounded genuinely concerned. "...Fine. I'm on it." Then, Nova took off towards the boat. The air cracked like a whip as Nova broke the sound barrier, accelerating to Mach 2 as he raced across the sky. Lake Michigan stretched beneath him, its vast waters glittering under the afternoon sun. Then he saw it—a fishing vessel, bobbing on the waves, a cluster of civilians bound and gagged on its deck. With a sharp dive, Nova swooped down, extending his anti-gravity field around the hostages. One by one, they lifted off the deck and into his hold. The boat exploded. The shockwave slammed into him mid-flight, flames and debris scattering across the water. But Nova held firm, shielding the twenty hostages as he carried them away at breakneck speed. He landed onshore with a rough drop, his breath heaving, his body aching. The civilians collapsed around him, coughing and gasping, but alive. Nova lay flat on his back, chest rising and falling. The mental strain of using his powers at such an extended scale was immense, and exhaustion clawed at him. Then he felt a large amount of energy approaching him. A presence—two of them. He forced his eyes open and saw two figures descending from above. One, metallic and radiant, his form pulsing with contained nuclear energy. The other, an android with a sleek, red-and-yellow body, his expression unreadable. Captain Atom and Red Tornado. Nova exhaled sharply, pushing himself to his feet. "You're late."