Super Genetics

Terry whipped around, the rose in his hand forgotten as he faced the person who had sneaked up on them. He didn’t know who he had expected—maybe the Emperor—but for once, he wasn’t exactly thrilled to see his old friend.

Whipvine’s scars danced as he scowled, the yellow magic flaring in his eyes as he slowly raked his gaze across them.

“I asked you a question,” he snarled. The words cut at them, deepening the silence.

Terry stepped forward to explain, but Crunch held him back with a hand.

Whipvine’s gaze snapped to the ghoul in surprise.

“You, too, Crunch? I would think you would know better than to sneak the prince out of the palace.”

“Necessary,” the ghoul replied. “For prince.”

Whipvine scowled, pinning each of them in place with his gaze before locking back on Crunch.

“And what if it had been Fletcher that found you instead of me?” he asked quietly, his tone full of hidden meaning.

Crunch’s teeth gnashed thoughtfully, then he nodded.

“Crunch dead then.”

Terry spun on him in surprise.

“Wait, what!”

Whipvine sighed, the coiled energy sapping out of him.

“I’ll explain on the way back.” He eyed the rose in Terry’s hand. “Guessin’ you got what you came for.”

Terry glanced down at the white rose, held forgotten between his two fingers. Looking back at Whipvine, he nodded.

“Right, then. In the car, Terry.” He waved a hand. “You, too, Tania. And you…” He regarded Arthur with nose furled like he’d caught a bad smell. “Don’t know you.”

Terry interceded, the super’s tone worrying him.

“He’s a friend! He’s been helping me work through things…with my mom.”

Whipvine indicated the open grave with a scoff.

“Yeah, can see that.” The yellow danced in his eyes as he regarded Arthur for another moment. Arthur withered under his stare, his thick glasses pointed at the ground. Whipvine sniffed dismissively, then spoke. “Got a car?”

Arthur looked up in surprise, then nodded. “Ye-yes.”

“Good. You and these boys put this grave back in place.” His hand trailed down to a whip, the threat electrifying the air between them all. “Don’t want even a piece of grass outta place when I come back. Clear?”

Arthur nodded quickly and Whipvine turned his gaze on Liam and Jimmy. Both boys fell over themselves in agreement, each rushing to grab a shovel.

Whipvine seemed satisfied by their response, turning finally to their driver.

“Dalton,” he said simply.

“Yes, Whipvine, sir,” the driver answered, his tone nervous though his posture remained dignified.

“Pull the car around.”

“Yes, sir.”

No one said a word as Jimmy and Liam shoveled dirt back into the grave while Tania and Terry shifted uncomfortably beside Whipvine. When Dalton flashed the high beams on the car, they set off after Whipvine.

The A-ranker sat in the front seat—without calling shotgun—while Terry and Tania slid into the back. Crunch clambered onto the roof and Dalton set off a moment later.

The air inside the car was charged. Tania and Terry kept glancing at each other, both afraid to break the silence. After a minute that felt more like ten, Whipvine turned to face them. Both kids froze under his disappointed gaze.

“Well?” he asked quietly, his eyes locked on Terry. “What in the Underworld were you thinking?”

Terry bit his lip, his palms slicking against his jeans, his heart trying to pound its way through his neck. He tried to make his thoughts translate into words, but it was like trying to cup water with an open palm. To his surprise, Tania spoke first.

“We were thinking that there’s still so damn much we don’t know about his mom! So much you and the others are—”

“I wasn’t talking to you!” Whipvine barked, causing the girl to flinch. “When I talk to you, you’ll know it! Until then, stay quiet!”

Tania glared at the man, a shine forming in her eyes. She blinked rapidly, obviously trying to keep the tears down, though her face made it clear they were angry tears.

Whipvine seemed not to care, watching her a moment longer before turning to Terry. His voice was quieter, but still edged.

“Well? Do you understand how stupid that was? How risky?”

Terry did cry, unable to keep the tears from slipping down his cheeks. But he was proud that his voice remained steady as he answered.

“Yes.”

“Then why? Why sneak out of the palace like that?”

He looked out the window, unable to keep his friend’s gaze.

“Because I had to know,” he whispered. His eyes flicked back. “I had to know, Whip. No one will tell me anything, answer any questions. And the things I’ve seen…maybe you don’t even know.”

Whipvine sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. His voice lost its edge, a friend now, more than a disappointed guardian.

“I know…I know it must have been hard for you, not getting the answers you need—”

“Agonizing, Whip.”

“I get it, son. I really do…but you could have come to me—”

Terry’s head whipped around, a new fire in his eyes.

“Could I? Could I really?”

The unspoken words hung heavy between them. Could I really come to the Emperor’s revenant…about this?

Whipvine looked off, clearly uncomfortable. After a moment, he turned back.

“Okay, I admit you’re right. But Terry, do you understand what would have happened if Fletcher was the one out on patrol tonight?”

Terry hadn’t understood earlier. Crunch had said he’d be dead, but why? Whipvine’s eyes were sharp, boring into him.

What did he mean? Why would Crunch be dead if War Crimes had found them? Because he’d report them to the Emperor? Unless, he had meant something else…

“You can’t mean—” He cut off as Whipvine confirmed his line of thought with a nod. Terry’s mouth gaped in horror. “War Crimes would have killed Crunch for failing his duties, wouldn’t he?”

Whipvine was shaking his head, the yellow magic spiking in his eyes.

“No, Terry. He would have killed all of them.” He indicated Tania with a head nod. “Her, too.”

Tania’s eyes bulged. “Wh-what? Why?”

“Cause he’s a black-hearted baby killer, Tania. And finding the lot of you out of the palace when Terry’s not allowed out woulda given him the loophole he needed, spin it like y’all were kidnapping him.” He scowled, the light playing against his scars. “He ain’t like me or Mes. He loathes the Emperor, Wichita, and most of all, he loathed your mom. Hurting you by killing your friends would be his way of sticking it to her…even in death.”

I almost got them all killed. Then he processed those last words.

“Even in death? But that’s just it, Whip, she might not be dead!”

Whipvine’s face dropped, a frown turning his lips down.

“What are you saying, son?”

Terry’s eyes lit up as he realized Whipvine didn’t know nearly as much as he had thought the revenant would.

“I’ve seen the videos! She runs off after the fight. I don’t know why, but she does. And she wasn’t in the coffin and when I stood over her at the viewing, I accidentally smeared some make up and underneath was this red skin and my dad was acting weird when—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up.” His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean she wasn’t in the coffin?”

After Terry and Tania explained everything—Arthur’s videos, the strange body at the viewing, the way James had killed the Siren and Terry’s mother had run away—Whipvine had sat back in his chair for a moment, silent as he considered it all.

Terry and Tania exchanged apprehensive looks while they waited for the old super to process, and Dalton very carefully kept his eyes forward as they drove. When Whipvine did turn around, he had a thoughtful look on his face.

“You considered that feeds can be doctored? This Arthur guy’s definitely a supe from what you told me. Probably an Artificer or an Alterant. With the right powerset, it’d be trivial.”

Terry shared a look with Tania before nodding. “We considered it. That’s why we wanted to dig up her grave. If she had been there…” He trailed off with a shrug. “I don’t know. But if anything, this confirms what he showed us.”

Whipvine sniffed, tilting his head in thought. “Maybe, or maybe he changed it just enough to show you what he wanted you to see, without changing the broad strokes. Won’t know unless we could get those vids to the Professor.”

Terry’s eyes went wide. “No, Whip, please! If you tell the Professor, she’ll definitely tell grandfather.”

Whipvine’s eyebrows rose. “What makes you think I won’t?”

Terry bit his lip, his stomach flipping. “I don’t know. Because I’m asking you not to?”

The older supe turned around, staring out the front windshield for a moment. Terry felt like they were dangling over the precipice of a cliff, Whipvine’s next words either pulling them back from the brink…or shoving them over.

Whipvine turned back around, a scowl on his face.

“Not feeling a compulsion to say anything—” Terry’s face lit up, casting Tania a hopeful look. Whipvine held up a stern finger. “—ain’t gonna lie bout nothing either. If the Emperor asks, I’m obligated to tell him—and I will tell him everything.”

If the Emperor asks…

“So we just don’t give him a reason to, right?” Tania suggested. “Just play this off like nothing happened and…” She trailed off as Whipvine shook his head.

“Can’t play nothing off,” he replied. “I am compelled to inform him of this little excursion. But if I keep the details scarce, he probably won’t probe.” A twisted smile touched his lips. “It’s my duty to inform the Emperor that the prince and his girlfriend went out for a little nighttime stroll—”

Tania and Terry protested at the same time.

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“Oh, hell no!”

Whipvine cut across their words with a swipe of his hand.

“Don’t say anything more! As far as I’m aware—and as far as the Emperor needs to know—you two are lovebirds bucking against the restrictions of the palace. Clear?” His eyes bore into them, flecks of yellow magic flaring with the intensity of his gaze.

Terry sighed, while Tania scowled.

“Clear,” they both replied.

“Good. I’ll suggest that your looming Awakening was a factor and that’ll be that.” He pursed his lips, the scars twisting. “Speaking of, how you feeling?”

“About my Awakening? Little nervous, to be honest.”

Whipvine shifted his head. “That, too. But I meant more about your father visiting. Know you two been having some issues.”

Terry tensed, his body going cold.

“Ooo,” Tania said, shifting back into her seat. “We don’t talk about his dad.”

Terry ignored her, keeping his eyes on Whipvine.

“I have no thoughts on that man,” he replied, his tone icy. “He knew about mom this whole time and let me think she was dead. As far as I’m concerned, I have no father.”

Whipvine’s eyes searched his face, no doubt looking for some chip in his armor, a flicker of doubt or false bravado flashing past a facade. But there was no facade—Terry hadn’t seen his father this whole time except for twice on wraith-glass. The man was just another of the Emperor’s servants to the boy and that was that.

“I see,” Whipvine eventually replied.

“You’re not gonna tell me to cut him some slack, are you?” Terry’s tone was full of acid. Mesmer had tried to mediate their relationship a few times and it had only created a distance between the two of them. If Whipvine tried the same, he didn’t know how he’d react.

“No, son. I…no. Prince James has grieved your mother’s—” He hesitated, clearly about to say ‘death’. “—your mother’s loss in his own way. But that doesn’t excuse how he’s treated you. As much as I admire him as a man and a soldier, being a good father takes a different sort of substance. He’s…still working on that, I reckon.”

Terry leaned back in his seat, looking out the car window as he thought on those words. Whipvine thankfully didn’t press the issue and they traveled the rest of the way in silence, pulling into the garage where Dalton deposited the four of them.

After Dalton drove off, Whipvine turned to Crunch.

“See the young lady back to her room, will you?” he asked the ghoul. “I’ll escort the prince.”

Terry nodded good night to Tania, following Whipvine through the palace back to his room. When he entered, he turned to close the door, but the old supe was blocking the way.

“Listen, son. I…” Whipvine looked to the side, biting his lip in a rare show of discomfort. “I don’t know what happened to the Rose. Maybe she is out there still…or maybe not.” Terry shifted at that. Whipvine’s eyes cut back to him, a passion emphasized by the yellow flecks shifting in his pupils and the aura flaring to Terry’s senses. “But whatever happened, dead or missing or…just gone, know one thing: you are loved—” His voice hitched and Terry’s mind short circuited at his friend’s open show of emotion. Whipvine cleared his throat. “You are loved—”

Terry cut him off, throwing himself into the man’s surprised arms. Whipvine returned the hug, wrapping his arms around the boy.

“I know, Whip,” he whispered. “I know.”

The older supe cleared his throat again, then separated from Terry. He held the boy by his shoulders, looking into his eyes.

“Get some sleep, okay? Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life. Tomorrow, you become Awakened.”

That filled Terry with excitement and he knew right then and there that sleep was out of the question. But he nodded, and Whipvine let his arms fall.

“Alright, Whip. Good night.”

“Night, son.”

After Whipvine left, Terry threw himself onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Hearing those words from his friend had filled him with joy for a moment, but it wasn’t enough to cut through the pain of his father’s casual indifference or the mystery surrounding his mother.

His thoughts churned all night and when the morning bells tolled, the excitement of the day had been dulled by hours of second guessing and the aching pain of the unknown.

The only thing that had got him through it, was the white rose clutched between his fingers.

Now, that white rose was zipped up in the breast pocket of his jacket, its thorns digging into his chest through the fabric. But the pain comforted him, reminding him of its presence as he marched for the throne room with Whipvine and Crunch at his side. He wanted it with him when he Awakened, a totem of remembrance, as well as an indicator of which class he hoped for. It would probably make no difference, but he kept it there all the same.

“Your father arrived only thirty minutes ago,” Whipvine was saying at his side. “And the others are gathering now to wish you luck.”

By others, he knew the supe meant the other revenants, distant relatives, and high-ranking undead. Thankfully, Savage had been sent north to cover for Terry’s father and he wouldn’t have to suffer the former Knight’s presence. Despite the distance that loomed between him and his father, Savage was worse by a mile.

When the throne room doors opened, Terry felt his willful defiance wither on the vine under the assembled group. Mesmer, the Professor, War Crimes, the Iron Maiden, and two of the three ghoul elders all stood behind the throne, arrayed facing the door. The Emperor himself was seated in the throne itself in casual wear, lacking his bone mask or scythe. Seeing his grandfather plain-clothed unnerved him—for some reason, he preferred the man in superhero regalia. Maybe it helped foster the idea in Terry’s head that the Emperor was more vengeful demon than actual flesh and blood.

But even his grandfather’s piercing green eyes weren’t what froze him at the door.

Kneeling on the stone floor in the center of the room facing the Emperor, was Terry’s father. He was wearing his superhero attire, bone-lined leather clacking together as he shifted to face his son. A bone mask hid his face, but not his eyes. Those eyes turned to him, lingered for a half-second, then shifted away. Whatever Terry had expected, his father could barely acknowledge his presence.

Feeling the heat rise to his face, he strode forward, fighting past the pain and embarrassment. It was only in this moment that he realized he had been willing to begin forgiving his father. If the man had rushed toward him and embraced, or said his name in a certain way, he would have let his flinty facade crumble just to feel his father’s powerful arms around him once more.

Instead, the man acted like he didn’t even know his son had just entered the room.

He leashed his aura, didn’t let any of those feelings slip through, as he stepped next to his father and knelt to the Emperor. Whipvine strode past quickly and ascended the steps to stand beside his fellow revenants. Crunch remained behind at the door, bowed at the waist.

“Grandson, the time has come for you to Awaken. Are you prepared?”

Terry took a moment to compose himself physically and ensure his hold on his aura was tight before he answered. “I am, my Emperor.”

“And you, Commander? Are you prepared to guide your son, my grandson, as he Awakens, for the good of the Fairways and the Wichita-Topeka Protectorate?”

The aura at his side shifted and Terry nearly gasped. Emotions broiled off his father—open disgust, furious rage, practically a killing intent. He glanced over to see his father trembling on one knee.

“I am,” the man replied, his tone clipped. Terry noted the lack of honorific and studied the two of them—his father and grandfather—in a new light. The obvious tension between the two Fairways was throwing him off.

I thought I was annoyed with them. But if I’m reading this right, they actively hate each other…

The Emperor nodded once and waved his hand. “Prepare him.”

James stood up quickly, turning to face Terry. He looked up at his father through his bone mask, willing himself to remain stoic despite the torrent of emotions churning within him.

His father’s voice echoed through the mask.

“Are you ready?”