Chapter 161

Cat and Mouse

Alexander cycled Electrokinesis into his Core. Power flooded outward, spreading through every nerve and receptor in his body. His thoughts focused. His vision sharpened. The distant figure resolved into clearer detail as his enhanced sight picked out specifics.

Seven feet tall, give or take, bald head reflecting the early morning sun, with a beard and mustache that would make a lumberjack jealous. The build was impossible to miss even at this distance. Massive shoulders, arms thick as tree trunks, a torso that looked carved from granite. The suit and cape were black with white trim, stretched tight across all that muscle.

Alexander matched the profile against Talia’s intelligence brief in an instant.

Gravimax. Member and officer of The Paragon Society. Four years operating out of New York. Tier 2.

Gravity manipulation as his primary power and an enhanced physiology that enabled him to deadlift commercial aircraft. And he could get run over by a train and keep going.

Then, for some unknown reason, the guy went and added combat cybernetics in his arms and legs to amplify strength that already made Julia look modest by comparison.

He’d been an underground ring fighter before awakening and had the cauliflower ears to show for it. And despite appearances, trapped somewhere within the walking slab of muscle on muscle was the mind of a cunning strategist. Someone responsible for planning and executing the takedown of several notorious gangs in and around New York.

Gravimax was one of three specific heroes in New York that Alexander knew he shouldn’t tangle with. Not now.

Alexander came to a complete stop, hanging in the air above the city.

Droney settled nearby with a questioning beep.

It was just a guess—an informed, deeply reasoned one, but a guess nonetheless—that the guy with gravity powers could sense and track the subtle shifts in people’s own gravitational fields.

Which meant he needed to break line-of-sight and confuse the man’s powered senses if he wanted to avoid a fight.

Alexander raised his right hand and gave Gravimax a casual salute.

Then he dropped hard. Droney kept pace, already switching plans and commanding the drones to find hiding places.

Wind screamed in his ears as he plummeted past rooftops. The street rushed up to meet him, morning traffic flowing in steady streams, pedestrians gathering at crosswalks.

He reached out and seized control of a hover-taxi. The vehicle jerked, controls overridden. Alexander pulled it toward the curb below him, angling it to arrive at the exact moment he needed. He also disabled every camera in range with a brief command, finding them mounted on nearly every building and traffic light.

Ten meters before colliding with the sidewalk, Alexander arrested his momentum hard. He touched down on the sidewalk with barely a whisper of sound, landing in the middle of the crowd as the light changed.

Bodies pressed around him. Suits and casual wear. Coffee cups and tablets. Morning conversations about weather and traffic and weekend plans.

To his surprise, his arrival, dramatic as it was, drew only a few curious glances and a couple of muttered insults. Clearly, New Yorkers were a different breed. Perhaps superhuman shenanigans were simply daily routine to them.

Alexander went with the flow, shouldering gently toward the taxi, hoping the crowd would be enough to obfuscate his movement.

Droney beeped softly, hovering overhead. The rest of the drones had found places to settle across the city.

Alexander nodded. “Keep them hidden.”

The taxi door slid open as he approached.

“Goddamn piece of shit autopilot.” The driver slapped the dashboard. “Swear to god these things are programmed by trained fuckin’ monkeys.”

Alexander unslung his backpack and tossed it inside, then slid into the back seat. Droney followed, and the door closed with a click.

The driver glanced back and caught sight of Alexander. The scowl vanished, replaced by a professional warmth that looked practiced enough to be genuine. “Morning! Where to?”

“The Melnick Grand Hotel, please.”

“You got it, boss.”

The taxi merged into traffic. Through the rear window, Alexander caught a glimpse of movement above. Gravimax descended rapidly, scanning the streets spreading out in every direction.

Alexander pulled on his powers, attempting something he’d never done before. It stood to reason that others might have ways to discern the difference between human and superhuman, much as his own Electrokinesis-powered senses could.

So he compressed his own powers. Slowed the signals pulsing throughout his body. Felt his eyesight dim. His hearing dulled. Scent diminished.

The difference surprised him. His first ascension had been so long ago now, coinciding with the moment he unlocked Hyperawareness. Both his attributes and the skill itself had grown considerably since, but it had happened in small steps over days, then weeks, and finally months.

Now he’d stripped away all of those gains, and the difference was stark.

He’d complained once, months ago, about barely feeling superhuman. Only at this moment could he truly comprehend how each small increase had changed him.

And that was only comparing the physical senses. He could only guess at how much else had changed without him really noticing.

Gravimax’s power washed over him, cutting his musings short.

Stolen story; please report.

Alexander tensed, ready to erupt with the full strength of his carefully contained powers. Ready to peel the roof off every vehicle in the vicinity and wrap them around the superhero, binding him in twisted layers like a metal burrito.

Through the window, Gravimax rotated in place, head snapping in every direction with growing frustration.

Then the superhero tensed and blasted through the air, heading in the wrong direction.

The taxi turned the corner.

Alexander settled back into the seat and let out a gentle sigh.

The driver navigated through morning traffic with the aggressive confidence of someone who’d been doing it for a lifetime. He wove between lanes, accelerated through yellows, and muttered creative profanity at anyone who dared slow him down.

“First time in New York?” he asked, glancing in the rearview.

“Visiting on business.”

“Ah, yeah? What kinda business?”

Alexander kept his tone casual. “Legal consultation.”

“Lawyer, huh? Hope you’re not suing nobody. City’s got enough of that already.” The driver laughed at his own joke. “Where you flyin’ in from?”

“Greece.”

“Nice. Real nice. Got a cousin moved out to Athens couple years back. Says it’s paradise. Can’t stand the heat myself, but to each their own, right?”

The driver kept talking. Something about his cousin’s restaurant failing in Athens, then bouncing back after some tourism surge. Alexander made appropriate sounds at the right intervals. A hum of acknowledgment. A quiet “huh” of interest.

He’d had plenty of practice dealing with Annie’s ramblings over the past year.

His attention drifted inward instead.

With his powers compressed, the world felt smaller. Duller. More confined. He watched Brooklyn slide past through the window. People on sidewalks went about their lives. Buildings blurred by. Traffic lights cycled through their routine. All of it felt distant.

At the pace he was advancing, he’d lose touch with what it meant to feel human. The inevitability of it settled over him like a weight. Despite his best efforts to stay grounded, to remember who he’d been, the gap kept widening.

Being human was more than just how the world looked or sounded or felt. He understood that. But the simple truth was that he’d already forgotten dozens of small inconveniences that had once been part of daily life.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up with sore muscles or other physical aches. Losing his arm didn’t count. Neither did the nights with Julia. It had been a few months, at least. Probably longer. He trained constantly now, pushed himself harder than he ever had before, and his body just absorbed it.

Stomach aches had vanished entirely. He also couldn’t remember when he’d last eaten something that didn’t agree with him. The last time he’d felt that familiar cramping discomfort. The last time he’d had to race for a bathroom after a bad meal.

The only time he felt short of breath anymore was when fighting other supernaturally powered beings. When pushed to his absolute limits by someone trying to kill him. That ragged gasping for air that came from true exertion rather than just climbing a few flights of stairs.

He’d stubbed his toe in the workshop last week. Hit it hard enough against a metal workbench that it should have hurt. Should have broken. Should have sent a sharp spike of pain up his leg. Instead, the only thought that crossed his mind was surprise at being so distracted. Nothing more.

Small losses. Individually meaningless. But they added up to something larger. A slow drift away from the baseline human experience. From the thousand minor discomforts that reminded people they were alive and mortal and vulnerable.

Alexander looked down at his cybernetic hand. The blue-black metal caught the morning light filtering through the taxi window. When he’d lost his arm, he’d thought that was the dividing line. The point where he’d crossed from human into something else.

But that wasn’t it at all. The transformation had started the moment he achieved Tier 2. Every attribute increase. Every power refinement. Every small step forward had been a step away from who he’d been.

And there was no going back.

Alexander shook his head with a wry smile and clenched his cybernetic fist.

He didn’t want to go back. It wasn’t a mistake that he had the powers he did. He loved them. Wanted to push forward. Challenge himself. Change the world.

And have fun doing it.

Which was why he was feeling a touch melancholic again. Maybe it was the New York air. Perhaps it was because this was the first time he’d actually gone out on his own for a while, seen the world as it really was, instead of through the media-curated lens.

Except that was only part of it. Ambition was the rest.

He’d wanted to test himself against Gravimax. Feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Even knowing the man was a direct counter to his own powers. Capable of absorbing anything Alexander threw at him. The superhero might as well be the dictionary definition of brute force.

Alexander sighed. He’d given his word that he wasn’t going to do anything too crazy.

Besides, if Gravimax had learned that the Machine God was in New York, it was likely that would not have ended in a fair fight. Or, at least, a fair unfair fight.

The taxi slowed and pulled to the curb.

“Here we are, boss. The Melnick Grand.” The driver twisted in his seat. “That’ll be thirty-five credits.”

Alexander flicked a finger, transferring one hundred through his neural interface. The guy deserved it after having his cab hijacked and technically getting Alexander out of a jam.

The driver’s eyes widened as he checked his account. “Hey, thanks! That’s real generous of you.”

Alexander grabbed his backpack and slid out of the taxi. Droney followed, hovering just above his shoulder.

The hotel rose before him. Glass and steel wrapped around old brick that was probably over a century old. Upscale without screaming wealth. A doorman in a crisp uniform pulled the entrance open as Alexander approached.

Alexander nodded his thanks and stepped into the lobby.

The interior matched the exterior. Modern luxury grafted onto historical bones. Marble floors caught the morning light streaming through tall windows. Understated chandeliers hung from the ceiling. A sitting area to his left held clusters of leather chairs and low tables where a handful of early risers nursed coffee.

He crossed to the front desk. A woman behind it looked up from her terminal and offered a warm smile.

“Good morning, sir. Welcome to the Melnick Grand. Do you have a reservation with us?”

“No.”

“That’s perfectly fine. What type of accommodation were you looking for, and how long will you be staying?”

Alexander considered for a moment. “Three nights, possibly extending to five depending on how my meetings go.”

“Of course.” Her fingers moved across a holographic interface that materialized above the desk. “We have several options available. Standard rooms, deluxe accommodations, executive suites…” She paused, glancing up at him. “We also have a premium corner suite on the thirty-first floor with excellent views of the city, if you’d prefer something more spacious.”

“The corner suite works.”

“Wonderful choice.” More finger movements through the interface. “That will be eighteen hundred credits per night, plus a three-hundred-credit incidental deposit.”

Alexander made the transfer. The amount barely registered.

She produced a physical keycard and slid it across the marble counter. “You’re all set. Room 3147. The elevators are just past the sitting area to your right.” Her smile remained professional. “Is there anything else we can help you with this morning?”

Alexander glanced down at himself. Concrete dust streaked across his suit jacket. The fabric showed the passage of the night’s activities.

He looked back up. “Are there superhuman cleaning services nearby? I need this suit cleaned and returned within a couple of hours.”

Her smile widened. “Of course. We can absolutely arrange that for you. Just give us a call from your room when you’re ready, and we’ll have someone come collect it.”

“Perfect. Thank you.”

Alexander took the keycard and headed for the elevators.

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