Jeremiah's POV

It was all I could do to stay alive against my brother's sudden onslaught. Carter hovered so his shoes were level with my stomach and started kicking viciously. I blocked the strikes with my gauntlets, reluctant to injure him.

    Then he dropped to the floor in a fighter's stance and began throwing rapid punches, and I had no choice but to lash out with a streak of jagged electricity. My brother narrowly ducked the attack, and the bolt I threw hit the toaster and blew it up.

     Rest in pieces, toaster, I thought, defending against another punch with my forearm. I followed up with a kick, but Carter grabbed my ankle and flew towards to the sliding glass door.

    "Help!" I yelled to my grandfather. "He's possessed or something!"

     I barely had time to see the disbelief on his weathered face before I was thrown straight through the supposedly reinforced glass. I seriously wouldn't recommend the experience. If I could leave a review online, I'd give one star.

     I landed on the concrete floor of the porch, a halo of shards surrounding me. By some miracle, I wasn't sliced to ribbons.

Carter stalked towards me, and I saw the terrifying, primal anger in his eyes—but also despair. He was torn between caring brother and hungry animal, and right now the beast was winning. If I wanted to survive, I'd need to force the human side to resurface, one way or another.

"Carter!" I began with the most cliché line in history, "This isn't you! I know you're in there. I'm going to give you a little wake-up jolt, alright?"

I received no response, unless monstrous snarling and a kick aimed at my head could be counted.

    I rolled to the side, got to my feet, and shocked my brother with just enough power to knock him unconscious. But of course, it didn't work. Just my luck.

Instead, the electricity seemed to energize him. He moved more quickly and struck harder, showing no sign of fatigue.

I guess I need to do this the old-fashioned way.

I got behind Carter and kicked him in the back of the knee, sending him toppling forwards. Just before he fell on his face, I caught him and dragged him outside. He struggled, of course, but my grip was like steel.

Just for a few moments, my brother's eyes turned green again. He gasped, "Jeremiah, run. Run for your life and don't look back. Go to your hideout and tell your friends."

"Tell them what?" I asked, my eyes blurring with tears as I relinquished my grip on his arm.

Carter looked me dead in the eyes.

"That Maximus Volt is coming back."

***

I'll admit that I panicked. I ran as fast as my heels would carry me, nearly tripped over the uneven sidewalk, and barged into the old lair. Panting like an exhausted dog, I doubled over and tried to catch my breath.

Dylan rushed to my side. "Whoa, Jeremiah! What's going on?"

I heaved in several deep breaths, taking in his appearance. He had a sword and multiple knives strapped to his waist, combat boots, and wore a streamlined armored suit.

"Bad news," I said, catching my breath. "My dad isn't gone, and my brother is possessed."

Dylan cursed under his breath, but laid a reassuring hand on my arm. "It'll be okay, I promise. We'll help your brother."

"Thanks," I said. "What's with the sword? Off to slay a dragon or something?"

He shook his head grimly. "Off to see an old friend."

"Dark Scimitar," I guessed, dread pooling in my gut. "You're going to fight him."

"No," Dylan replied, his hand closing around the grip of his sword. "I'm going to kill him."

I magnetized, pulling my best friend towards me and immobilizing him as his metal-clad body entered my magnetic field.

"Don't even think about it!" I told him sharply.

I leaned in closer and hissed, "I thought you left the villain lifestyle behind, Dylan. Don't prove me wrong."

He gritted his teeth. "I have to. It's the only way—"

"No!" I shouted. "No, you don't! What you need to do is..."

I faltered, realizing I sounded like the shortest tyrant since Napoleon.

    With a sigh, I demagnetized, letting him go.

"Sorry." I mumbled. "It's just..."

Dylan held up a palm. "It's okay. You don't have to apologize."

Autumn came into the room, her hair drenched like she hadn't bothered to dry it after her scalding-hot shower. She had a bewildered and scared expression on her face, as if she'd seen a huge rat like the one from The Princess Bride.

    "Did I hear something about your brother getting possessed? Is he okay?" Autumn questioned.

I shook my head. "I don't know. One minute he was normal, and the next he was trying to kill me."

Autumn's tanned beige complexion turned uncharacteristically pale.

    "Eidolon's power," She said, glancing at Dylan with eyes wider than half-dollar coins. "We are so screwed."

I looked at one twin, then the other. "Is there something you aren't telling me?"

The ground-floor door splintered as something repeatedly bashed it. All of us were instantly on our guard.

"What the hell was that?" I whispered harshly.

Dylan lightly smacked his own forehead. "I knew I shouldn't have left that battering ram just lying around."

"What do you need a battering ram for?" Autumn demanded.

I held my arms up. "Stop! This is exactly what I was talking about earlier. Let's go."

I hurried downstairs, careful not to trip and break my neck. That would've been embarrassing, not to mention painful.

When I got to the ground floor, I was nearly stabbed through the chest by a throwing knife. I deflected it with my magnetism and raised my fists, giving my opponent a combat once-over.

The attacker was dressed in black and green, with a mask that covered the upper-face area. She was built lithe and muscular, like a jungle cat. Her blonde hair was tied back, and she held a large gun in her arms. It wasn't a traditional firearm; it looked more like a blaster weapon to me. As far as I could tell, there was no metal in its construction.

"So, who the hell are you?" I questioned with a glare. "And what did that innocent door ever do to you?"

The girl glanced at me, her expression relatively calm and definitely arrogant. "You're Static Steele, huh? You don't look so tough."

I buzzed up my gauntlets, making them crackle with electricity. With any luck, I could disarm and incapacitate this girl before somebody got seriously injured.

    "Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving. I'm the guy who took down Pariah, and he was a hell of a lot scarier than you."

What I didn't mention was that the person who once carried that name was upstairs, waiting in the wings for things to get ugly.

The girl grinned condescendingly. "Oh, yeah, I knew him. The Goliath to your David."

    Her fingers tensed around her weapon's trigger, and I bent my knees, ready to dive to one side.

"Call me Recluse," She said, and then continued speaking.

"Old Maximus, he was a showoff. He had a flair for dramatics. My boss understands people better. She can get into your head, you know. And once she hooks you, there's no escape."

I rolled my eyes, though she couldn't see the action through my mask. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Can we fast-forward to the part where I zap you? You're starting to bore me to death here."

Recluse smirked, winked, and pulled the trigger. A wide beam of harsh red light burst from the barrel of the gun, and I ducked just in time to avoid being burned.

"Whoa, what the hell?" I demanded. "Where'd you get a laser gun?"

As much as I appreciated the coolness of a weapon that looked like it came straight out of an old-school space movie, I had to destroy it before it destroyed me. Simple enough.

    So I grappled Recluse, wrestled the gun from her grip, and smashed it to pieces. While I was at it, I punched her in the stomach with a gauntleted fist. She wheezed, doubling over.

Dylan flew from the window, kicking it open dramatically and doing a flip as he fell. He landed in a fighting stance, and his eyes blazed with anger. He wore a new super suit, burgundy and dark gray. His gray mask covered the head and upper half of his face, and he wielded a two-handed sword—three and a half feet of wickedly sharp steel, with a grip wrapped in leather.

    I knew Dylan could've taken down Recluse quickly and effortlessly from a distance with a deadly-accurate throwing knife or even a psychic attack, but he wanted to get up close and personal so he could see the pain on her face.

Recluse sneered at him and drew her own sword, a narrow-bladed rapier that looked almost petite in comparison to Dylan's sword, but no less lethal.

"Who're you?" Recluse snarled. "The little eel's sidekick?"

"The name's Outlier," my friend replied, smirking. "And I'm your worst nightmare."

They both lashed out, and my enhanced ears ached as their blades clashed with a loud metallic ringing. It was almost mesmerizing, their movements quick and carefully calculated.

     With her slimmer weapon, Recluse relied on quick and evasive thrusting attacks, whereas Dylan was focused on fast, brutal slashes combined with powerful stabs. It was obvious to me that footwork was key in swordsmanship, since both of them were practically dancing back and forth, tactfully stepping to one side or the other. They appeared to be evenly matched; neither fencer could land an attack on the other.

After a few seconds of awed spectating, I remembered that I was supposed to be fighting too.

    I got behind Recluse, grabbed her sword arm, and shocked her with just enough power to force her into dropping her weapon. She shrieked in pain, convulsing as the rapier clattered to the floor.

Dylan rested the edge of his weapon on her throat, and I tightened my grip so she couldn't wriggle away. Unless she could teleport or something, there was no way she could escape.

"Give me one reason not to make the cut," Dylan growled. "And remember this. I can make all your worst fears come to life."

    "I'm not surrendering," she hissed.

     He sheathed his blade and glared at her, his dark brown eyes glowing bright red.

    Recluse lost all traces of composure. Her eyes went wide, and she began sobbing from terrifying personal hallucinations. "No—not the spiders! Kill me, please, just kill me!"

Recluse, huh? I thought. That's an ironic name for someone with arachnophobia.

Aloud I said, "Outlier, stop! We can throw her in a cell, but we're not going to torture her. We need her to talk."

Immediately, Dylan ceased his mental assault. He slung the still-hysterical villain over his shoulder and floated away.

     I joined him shortly afterwards in the prison level, which Dylan referred to as the Blackout Chamber. I jerked reflexively as pain jolted through me. Dylan winced, too.

"Power nullifiers." He explained. His voice sounded like it was coming from underwater, and I strained my ears to hear him. "For safety. You'll get your powers back when you leave."

He flicked a switch, and a sheet of reinforced plexiglass retracted into a slot. Dylan placed Recluse on the prison cot and cuffed her wrists to the wall, then stepped out once she was secured.

"This is overkill, isn't it?" I commented as my best friend raised the glass wall. "She's unarmed, powerless, and hysterical. She isn't getting out unless we let her out."

Dylan shook his head gravely. "I'm not taking any chances with her. I know this little spider. We used to work together."

We exited the Blackout Chamber, and my powers came surging back like the tide. Isabelle had just woken up, and she looked at us blearily. That girl could sleep through damn near anything, including super fights and hurricanes.

"Hey, guys," She said tiredly, her eyelids fluttering. "What's going on?"

Dylan said nothing, looking at me sharply. I realized that he expected me to explain. How rude of him.

"We're under attack," I began. "There was just a villain with a laser gun outside, and my brother was possessed... it's complicated. But the point is, we need to prepare. There's something bigger coming."