Guild of The Future

Alter had assumed people from races of psychics and soul-readers would be impossible to bluff, but here she was with all the chips in front of her.

“You’re lucky we aren’t playing for real money.”

“Why?” Stéri asked.

“Because you would have started owing me limbs by now.”

“I can make those if you want,” Puerile offered.

“As fun as an arm by its lonesome would be to display, I don’t think Tetra would take kindly to that image.”

“Who said Tetra would know?” Puerile asked.

“Why do you care so much about their opinion?” Stéri asked.

“Because I like being here. I volunteered, which means I can be kicked out, unlike whatever diplomatic immunity you two have.”

Puerile rolled his eyes. Most Pan had a dim view of the other races, so of course he didn’t care as much. Stéri at least gave a consoling nod.

“Let’s play something else,” Alter requested, “You all are boring me.”

“I want to figure this out,” Stéri said, “I think I was onto a winning strategy.”

“You’re outvoted,” Puerile sang, “I want to keep playing too.”

“Fine, play without me. Do start crying to me once Puerile wins every round because he made the cards.”

Puerile gave a confident grin, confirming their accusation.

Alter took a breath once out of the shared space and walked to his own room. It was smaller than most of the others, most of it taken up by his gaming set up.

“Anyone up?” he asked once he got his headset on.

“Barely,” Carter—and only Carter—answered. It was harder to stay in contact with their group now that they were in a radically different timezone.

“Up for a raid?”

“Of course. How is it being a superhero?”

“A lot of sitting, and dealing with people above my pay-grade.” Alter watched the loading screen with interest, mimicking the faces that showed up. It was good practice.

“Nasty villains?” Carter asked.

“Privileged heroes. I beat a Pan at poker, several times.”

“That doesn’t seem possible.”

“I swear it’s true, I got so bored with winning all the time, I abandoned them.”

“Maybe that was the plan the whole time.”

“Nah, he prefers having someone less innocent than Starry, not that I think Starry’s actually all that innocent.”

“Do you mean Stéri?” Carter’s excitement was palpable.

“Yeah?”

“The dreamy one?”

“That’s one word for him.”

Alter forgot what it was like to talk to someone normal for a minute there. She basked in reality for a moment.

“Than—”

Lori Evans volunteered for this. After the Guild had gained notoriety, but just before the council of worlds had decided to send representatives, Lori took a flight from their home on the Celtic Isles all the way to the Heroes’ Guild base of operations to audition. Their abilities weren’t quite as impressive as anyone else there, lacking fighting ability and barely past the age where a Changeling becomes able to completely shift forms. Luckily for them, the Guild was desperate.

They took to training with a certain excitement, and soon enough their shapeshifting became difficult to tell from the real thing, including inorganic substances. Elva had lower opinions of their fighting ability.

Alter dropped having a singular natural form rather quickly. They identified with a different gender at any given time, changing to match their true self at the moment. They tended to keep their hair in an unfading blue, and not just on their head. Their height was average, an intentional choice from their previously short form, but their eyes kept the previous brown. Their skin had olive undertones from their human adoptive father’s Mediterranean origins.

When the representatives came in, Alter was tasked with keeping an eye on which ones could be a problem. Only a singular candidate came to mind, having already chosen another representative as something of a target.

Laran was a prince of the nightmares of Unland. His first inkling of the Heroes’ Guild came through the dreams of Tetra, who was a unique challenge to properly scare given how different their four selves were. In the only shared nightmare for the four of them, and therefore the one that recurred most often, The Heroes’ Guild was forced to shut down for the security of the seven worlds, and as a result Earth fell into decay.

Wanting to witness this firsthand, Laran accidentally put his influence towards letting the Guild remain, as he’d offered to become the Pan representative. Overjoyed to make him someone else’s problem, the Pan became the deciding vote allowing the Heroes’ Guild to remain.

Though initially disappointed the world wasn’t falling into ruin, Laran was happy to have carte blanche permission to use his abilities as a Pan, so long as he used it to help people, whatever that meant. His personality earned him the derogatory code-name Puerile, the insult of which he didn’t realize until Alter accidentally explained it to him.

Like all Pan, he had splashes of paleness all over his brown skin. His eyes were gray, a disconcerting feature for Cassandra. His hair was cut close to his scalp, similarly spotted like the rest of him. He was rarely found anything but smiling. Without his movement, his appearance was entrancing, but he moved with threatening posture that warded most away.

Most, with the exception of his new favorite subject.

Stéri was not an important Djinn. He wasn’t even associated with any of the larger clans, as he didn’t particularly trust them. That is the first reason he was chosen to represent the Djinn. As one unaffiliated, he wouldn’t have any effect on the politics of home either positive or negative.

The second reason Stéri was chosen was that the Djinn had not favored letting the Heroes’ Guild remain. As someone with the ability to force truth, Stéri would be able to wreck the Guild from the inside if he deemed it necessary.

Despite such a pessimistic ability, Stéri had actually been excited to join the guild, and have something like a clan of his own, having been kicked out of the one he was born to for accidentally making his mother admit the true identity of his father, who was not her husband.

Whether as a coping mechanism or some improbable true naïveté, Stéri saw the best in people, and was comfortable among people trying to be their best. This disposition earned the casual nickname of Starry, because he seemed to be reaching for the stars.

Stéri’s head was shaved, a practice in response to a fading hairline. His skin was somewhere between his companions tones, matching to the fact he was often between Alter and Puerile’s arguments. He had a lithe form that moved with ease. His eyes were nearly black and disarmingly welcoming, especially paired with his smile.

Why he carried on so comfortably with Puerile, who seemed his entire opposite, was anyone’s guess. Perhaps he believed in a possible redemption for the Pan. Maybe he wasn’t as affected by the reality manipulation when his power bound him to truth. Stéri himself had implied it had something to do with the Djinn ability to see others’ souls.

Together the three of them had been dubbed The Jokesters, primarily for Puerile’s meddling. They were a particular conundrum at the moment.

Once she’d figured out who Void meant by Jokesters, Cassandra knew she could eventually convince them. What she doubted was their ability to help more than harm. If Puerile was as strong a psychic as his race implied, surely he must have noticed her. By his reputation, the fact he hadn’t interfered in any way was more disconcerting.

For her inconvenience, they were all playing cards in the same room, which meant, like Void and Vara, she’d have to convince all three or go without.

“Just enter already!” Puerile shouted over her concerns, “Even I can’t stand your anxiety.”

Cassandra entered to see Alter almost buried in a pile of coins, with a look of exasperated confidence.

“Who are you?” Stéri demanded, eyes turned all white.

“I am Cassandra, a time-traveler of sorts.”

“Ah,” Puerile said, “Another Kronos. Caliana’s family tree must have caught up to her.”

“She doesn’t look like a Kronos,” Alter said, turning into Caliana. Cassandra took a step back. “Not shiny enough.”

“What is your purpose here?” Stéri asked.

“This place is about to be exploded by a bomb. I need your help to stop it.”

“Of course,” Puerile wiggled his fingers menacingly, “I’ll just remove it from existence.”

“Bad idea,” Alter said, “Things will warp back the moment you’re out of range.”

“We need information,” Cassandra elaborated, “And the three of you are best suited to get it.”

Puerile made an improbably loud clap.

“Why didn’t you say so in the first place? Information is my favorite hobby.”

Using Cassandra’s memories, Puerile guided Alter into a perfect mimic of one of the men. Then came more waiting, waiting that Puerile took as an excuse to interrogate her.

“So why do you care about this thing going off? You could just run out and survive, not that I don’t appreciate your concern.”

She kept her lips sealed, but visions of her home danced in her head.

“Ah, we remind you of your home.”

The room around them rippled as flames rose, and a familiar giant figure stalked inside. Cassandra fell to the ground, and started backing up, into a statue of Athena.

“Please, no,” she breathed.

Stéri stepped between her and him.

“Stop this, Laran.”

“Oh, but this is the most interesting I’ve ever seen things. You’re all abstract, but her fears are so real. It must have really happened.”

“But it’s not real this time.”

Something in her chest tightened, pulling her straight. The man didn’t have a face, and he was staying where he was. This wasn’t real.

The temple faded, returning to the previous room, and the man followed soon after.

“I do mean it as a complement. The worst thing you can be is boring.”

“The safest, you mean,” Cassandra corrected. This was going to be a long time for her. At least Puerile didn’t demand the memories like Void had.

Puerile took a step away from her.

“This isn’t the way out,” a voice said.

“We’re taking a detour,” Alter replied, his voice the same as the one Cassandra heard when she found them placing the bomb.

The three of them stepped into the hall, and walls formed a new room around all of them. One of the men still tried to run out, but just knocked his head really hard.

“What did you do?” another asked while checking on his comrade.

“Psychic walls are a bit harder to phase through, aren’t they?” Puerile asked.

One of the men pulled out a remote, clicking the button.

“Well this time we can survive,” Puerile said, “Assuming the radiation won’t kill us once I’m out of power, unless you’re willing to offer.” he turned pointedly to Cassandra.

“What does that mean?”

“I need juice, and these two aren’t nearly as… weighty as you are.”

“I mean when you said we’ll survive.”

“Oh, I mean the whole place will blow in a few minutes. That button activated the timer.”

“Why didn’t you disable it, then?” Alter asked, surprisingly calm.

“Do all of you have that button?” Cassandra couldn’t waste time on this conversation now.

Stéri’s eyes turned white again. The men nodded, clearly terrified.

“Did you do this because you wanted to?”

They shook their heads.

“Who made you?”

“We were paid,” one finally said, Cassandra wasn’t bothering to separate them in her mind.

“Anonymously!”

“Do you have a suspicion?” she asked.

Shaken heads.

“What mechanism makes it work?”

They all shrugged.

“Jeffrey was the point-man.” They looked at Alter.

“We need Jeffrey.” the heroes all agreed.

Cassandra sighed, and closed her eyes, then opened them again.

“Which of you is the youngest.”

One reluctantly raised a hand.

“Thank you.”

“Why did you ask that?”

This time Alter was made to look like the youngest. This time Puerile’s torment was of her brother.

She was standing on the wall, unable to look away as her brother’s corpse was dragged by the greatest warrior who ever lived.

“No!”

She hadn’t been able to prevent that either. At least the warrior would die, and then the curse would be killed soon after.

“I feel like this could be more visceral,” Puerile said.

Suddenly she was in the chariot, watching her brother’s corpse become mangled into a monstrosity. The warrior grabbed her by the waist, turning her around. She damaged her hands trying to wrest him off. Then he handed her the reins.

She tried to pull back, make them stop, but she wasn’t strong enough, even with both hands.

The warrior pulled her closer to him, placing his face beside hers. Void would have stopped the vision long before now.

The terror faded. She collapsed on the floor, taking centering breaths. Puerile moved away from her. No interference from Stéri this time.

“Does he know you’re here?”

“Who?”

“Are you sure you this is a shortcut?” a voice asked.

“No,” Alter replied.

Puerile made the room again. The same one bumped into the wall. The same one asked what they’d done to them. Puerile mentioned psychic walls. This time the buttons turned to bubbles before anyone could actually press them.

“Jeffrey. Who paid you?”

Stéri’s eyes turned white again.

“It was anonymous.” Jeffrey tried to wiggle out of whatever was compelling him to honesty, “But they seemed to have an old grudge for something that’s only been around two years.”

Sometimes enemies pass from father to child. That was why so many children were slaughtered in her home.

“Children?” Puerile asked, delighted.

“No I think it was an adult.”

“Do you know how the bomb works?” she continued.

The room faltered.

“Children…”

“Keep focused.”

“It’s some sort of radiation thing.”

The buttons returned to their previous place. Cassandra and Alter tried to wrest them from Jeffrey and the other one that was awake, but the buttons were pressed, and the burning came immediately. Two things stuck to Cassandra before she reset.

First, Puerile had lied when he said the bomb was going in a few minutes, or the men whose minds he was reading were lied to. Second, Puerile couldn’t get distracted, or it would end in disaster.

Alter was instructed to try to remove the buttons as they went if possible. Puerile again dug deep into Cassandra’s mind. At least Void let her direct the search.

“Does he know you’re here?” Puerile asked again, stepping back.

“Who?”

“Probably Void,” Stéri answered. “He’s been afraid of him since he broke an illusion to almost crush his neck.”

So that's what it was.

“He is intimidating.” she remembered the way he came up to her face, and stopped every time he saw the vision. “Why is he worried about him from me, though?”

Stéri cocked his head toward Puerile as his eyes turned white yet again.

“Because you’re thinking about how I’m doing things worse than he did.”

It was hard not to.

“So you think I’m under his protection?”

“Are you not?”

She shrugged.

“I might be.”

Puerile took this as enough of a threat to back down. Cassandra laughed. Had Void known when he told her to find them that the mere thought of him was enough to keep her safe?

“Does Void know about this?”

“I think the cowering is enough of a hint.” Stéri said.

“Are you sure this is a shortcut?” Jeffrey asked.

“Positive,” Alter said.

Puerile built the room. Alter presented the buttons. Stéri reactivated his ability.

“Jeffrey, what do you know about the bomb?” Cassandra asked.

“I’ve placed a lot of bombs—” he writhed a bit, “—It’s nuclear, very nasty, but the poison goes away in a few minutes thanks to built-in fungal clean-up. Those buttons activate the bomb if the protection systems don’t.”

“One of the protection systems?”

“Once it’s primed, you can’t move it too far, hit it too hard, or fail to disarm it.”

“And how does one fail to disarm it?”

“I don’t know. It’s not my job, do I look smart to you?”

The smartest man she knew of looked like he was raised in the wilderness. This man looked more refined than he did.

“No,” Puerile answered.

“Smart has different forms,” Alter answered.

“Are you going to preach at me,” Jeffrey asked, “Or are you—”

Cassandra felt the heat this time, Puerile was right, they were safe in his creation, but nobody else was.

“Alter!”

“Despite temptation, I did not press any of the buttons.”

“Did you remember to take the one off the one you replaced?” Stéri asked.

Alter smacked their forehead, then dragged their hand down their face.

Something grabbed Cassandra’s arm. She turned to find part of Caliana.

“There, you saved people. Now come with me.”

Alter shook their head. “Saved people—did you know we were going to die?”

“Messing with the timeline—”

“Oh this will haunt you for years to come.” Puerile’s grin was audible, “Did you even try to save Rainbow?”

“I can do better,” Cassandra said.

“No!”