Page 110 of Supernova

Something erupted from his palm, expanding outward, encapsulating him and Simon before Nova’s scream had broken.

The spears, the daggers, the broken pieces of concrete, all struck it with deadly force and ricocheted harmlessly away.

Nova’s scream stammered and fell silent. In shock. In utter disbelief.

Whatwasit?

A wall of sorts. A protective barrier made of invisible bricks, each held together with glowing copper-colored mortar. It stood like a circular tower around Adrian and his father. A medieval turret, imbued with some sort of force field…

How had he done it?

For that matter, how did he do any of the things the Sentinel could do? He was Adrian. He wasSketch.

Ace, too, seemed surprised. He inspected Adrian through the shimmering wall that divided them. “You are full of tricks,” he mused. “But don’t get cocky. I’ve yet to meet a wall I couldn’t bring down.”

“The tattoo?” Nova murmured, remembering the tattoo he’d given himself on his inner wrist. The castle turret.In theory, I’ll be able to use it to create a barrier around myself and anyone who’s near me.…

She tore her gaze away from Adrian and stumbled toward her uncle. “Ace,” she panted, grabbing his arm. He startled, as if he’d forgotten there was anyone here but his enemies. “We need to leave.”

Through the slitted hole of the helmet, he considered her. “Leave? Things are just getting interesting.”

“Ace,” she said, more insistent now. “You have your freedom. You have your helmet. We all sacrificed a lot for that. We need to take care of our injured. We need to regroup.”

He snorted derisively. “We need to finish what we’ve started.” With a roar, Ace reached one hand toward the sky, then pulled his fist back down.

Steel beams erupted from the walls. Concrete blocks blew up from the floor. A cyclone of stone, wood, plaster, and glass spun through the arena, crashing into the iridescent barrier. Adrian was motionless, his expression hinting at only the slightest bit of fear as his barrier was pummeled from every side, as Ace Anarchy did his best to destroy the wall.

But Adrian’s wall held.

“Ace!” Nightmare yelled, her voice barely carrying over the storm he’d created. “Stop!Uncle Ace, please!”

The chaos shuddered, slowed, and finally stilled. Ace’s expression was still full of vitriol, his face contorted with loathing. “If this is abouthim—”

“It’s aboutus,” she said, only half lying. “Your allies and friends. Your family. Look around. We’ve done enough today. Now, we need to take care of our own.”

Ace did look around, and Nova could only guess what he was seeing. The ravages of battle, the destruction he and his helmet had wrought, the bodies—so many bodies…

A loud hiss sent a shiver along her spine. Nova spun to see the boa constrictor rising up, its eerie white eyes meeting hers. Then the snake’s body melted into a sludgy liquid and Phobia emerged once more, his cloak shimmering briefly like snakeskin before solidifying around his body. The hood wavered from his raspy breaths, his nonexistent mouth.

Nova could feel his accusations before he spoke, and she didn’t want to hear them. She didn’t want Ace to hear them.

The truth.

She was terrified that Ace Anarchy would win this fight.

She lifted a hand toward Phobia, her lips curving into a snarl. “Not now,” she said, before fixing her attention back on her uncle.“Ace, please. We came here for you, and we succeeded. Remember your purpose. A world without persecution. A society with free will. We can achieve that. But not here. Not like this.”

As quickly as the fit of anger had come, Ace morphed back into a picture of quiet temperament. Muscles relaxing. Fingers spreading wide.

Everything still caught in his frozen cyclone came crashing down. Their allies slowly appeared from the rubble, emerging from their hiding places. Not only the Anarchists and the Rejects, but the prisoners, too.

Ace scanned them mutely, then allowed his gaze to linger a moment longer on Captain Chromium, the Dread Warden, and Adrian. There was a promise in his silence. A promise, and a threat.

Nova tried not to think about it.

Ace turned to the Cragmoor inmates, those still standing amid the chaos, and stretched out his fingers. The group of them grimaced and bent over simultaneously, their faces tight with pain. Nova winced, sure that Ace was hurting them, though she couldn’t imagine why.

And then one of the inmates—the same who had sat beside her in the cafeteria—reached for the collar of his jumpsuit and tore apart the flimsy fabric.

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