"Go on, speak; you were running your mouth before." Frost said.
Dickens was on the chair, hands trembling—face hardened, words were hard to say, the hero in front of him smirking hard at him.
Vilex walked back in, his face bright; the call he just had gave a new clue to the cri.
Vilex said, facing Frost. "What did I miss?"
Frost replied. "Officer Sanchez here says the Captain asked he and his partner not to go to Tora-linkway, so I need Dickens to explain why he said that."
Vilex turned. "Chop chop, Dickens, cat got your tongue? Give the answer."
The fear shadowed Dickens clenched his trembling hands; he spoke, but a stutter ca first. "I-i only told them that because. A pause from him, then he let out the latter words. Because I thought that, um, since it’s an abandoned area, there’s no need to cover it; it’s just re coincidence that he happened to be there at the ti of the cri."
The green hoodie hero got up and walked straight at him. Head down at Dickens’s eyes eting, Vilex chuckled. "re coincidence? Well, I don’t think it’s a coincidence, but I’ll let it go. He took a step back and said.
"Answer this: why weren’t your caras working? Because you should have videos of them."
Dickens answered. "Our caras are good. You keep talking about our caras. What happened to yours? Can’t you use yours to see the perpetrators?"
"You see, Captain Dickens, it’s not like we can’t use ours; we just need to know why yours, which is in the area, didn’t work."
Dickens gave no response; all he did was just stare at Vilex and speak to himself:
This damned hero—what’s his deal? The caras should be working.
Frost called to an officer, saying. "Will you pull up the cara feed for Tora-linkway?"
The officer was hesitant; she didn’t do it, but the cold stare she got from Frost brought to her reasoning who is superior and who is inferior.
She turned to her computer; as she worked, she noticed sothing strange she had to voice out. "From what I’m seeing... the internal caras have been tampered with. And this isn’t so outside interference—I would’ve detected a breach. This ca from the inside."
Vilex cut in, a smile spread across his face, and he said. "Just like what my Gizmo said, go on, miss; it seems you still have things to say."
"The internal surveillance feeds were breached—from within. That’s why we couldn’t see what happened during the attack. Soone tampered with the system."
Frost retorted curtly. "Still a repeat of what you just said. Are you a bot? Get straight to the point."
The female officer spoke. "The issue won’t be from ; ever since the boss switched control to his office, I’ve had fewer things to do about the caras."
She nervously glanced at the captain. As the words left her mouth, all eyes turned to the Captain, Vilex teased. "Alright, now give an excuse."
Vilex’s gaze fell upon Dickens’s trembling hands; he thought,
Hmm, nervousness, but that hand movent—is it a coincidence to that of sothing I rember, or am I tired and my eyes are deceiving ?
Frost raised the volu of his voice, cutting through the brief silence. "Co on, Captain, speak. It’s not like you to be quiet."
The captain crossed his arms, smiling and chuckling a bit. "Okay, I made a mistake I’m human; co on, old friend, give a break. I have so many things to worry about."
Vilex laughed, tapping Frost, saying. "Can you listen to him?"
Frost joined in on the laughter, replying, "Vilex." "The old friend gimmick."
Vilex’s voice shifted to a more serious tone; his eyebrows arrowed at one another. "Old friend, we’ve never had an agreent. I know what you are; I just need to prove it."
A sinister smirk blood on Dickens’s face; confidence brewed where fear once lingered, and his voice carried a newfound firmness as he spoke. "You’re sothing else, Hero. Why do you keep doing your friend like this?"
Vilex lashed out at him. "Call friend one more ti, and I promise you that you’d spill blood."
"You’re doing it again, aren’t you—stalling? You do this at monts like this. He added,
Dickens sighed, brushing his eyebrows with his hand; he spoke out a word in a parabolic manner that sounded unusual, but to one—Vilex—it sounded familiar.
"Mistakes here and there are the basis of being human."
Vilex’s face tightened as he tried to recollect where he heard that phrase; Frost, on the other hand, watched his partner looking confused and turned to Dickens.
"What’s with the parable? Speak normally."
Dickens let out a sigh again. "I guess I have been sold, but little matter; I guess it’s about damn ti, you know, old friend. A grin crept out, a little tremor hit the ground, everyone lost balance for a mont Vilex, who looked up wondering what was going on, caught up to Dickens’s hands—reddish hands; they were boiling red.
Just before he could move... a cataclysm tore through the building—the explosion crushed its very foundation.
The night sky, lit with a thousand stars, displayed the quiet beauty of darkness, while the moonlight fell upon the destruction, turning it into a grim work of art. Every person was down on the ground, blood streaming down, bodies lying lifeless, but one was unscathed—Dickens; he sat confidently amidst the destruction. A little movent happened right in front of him; Vilex was getting back to his feet.
Dickens grinned hard at him, and he got up from his seat, turning to run. Vilex got a glimpse of him running, and with the strength he got, he hurled away the debris on him and Frost, chasing after Dickens.
Frost wanted to get up to go for the chase, but he was caught in debris trapping his legs; he spoke out lowly, calling on Vilex. "Wait for ."
Vilex was already gone; his chase was tough Dickens was a fast runner. Even Vilex gave a thought:
How is he so fast? And he’s a superhuman. I have to catch him. God knows how many people have turned to Al-Daeem’s side, goddamn it.
They did the cat and mouse chase for about seven minutes till they got to a place—a tall glasshouse. Dickens stood right in front of the building, his arms raised. He stopped the chase. Vilex only stood watching him carefully before Dickens turned back to the building.
Vilex called to him. "So you’re a superhuman; I guess I understand your interest in superhuman cases, but since when?"
Dickens replied sharply. "Like I said before, it’s about damn ti, you know. He placed a hand on his face; the palm beca reddish again, and a spark of fire engulfed his face.
Vilex stood dumbfounded; he thought,
Is he nuts? Who’d burn himself
His hands still placed on his face, just in a mont sothing dropped, and again it dropped, and slowly the fire was losing light; it went off eventually. Dickens’s face was steaming hot, but the hand was still placed on the face; he chuckled a bit and. He took away his hands from his face.
Vilex was starstruck by a familiar face he thought he’d never see again, the brown-eyed, ginger-looking face of Cecil Edgar. All he could make was. "Huh."
Cecil, smiling at him, said. "It’s been a while... Old Friend.
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