Page 100 of Supernova

Nova strangled the steel bars. How many bees had Honey unleashed? How many Renegades would no longer be prodigies?

And why did this fill her with fury when, not long ago, she would have been delighted by it? Would have even encouraged the plan herself?

“They were supposed to beparalyzed,” she repeated. “Do you know how much more difficult you just made this for me?”

“You’re resourceful. You’ll figure it out,” said Honey. “I did what was best for the Anarchists, what’s best forus.No more playing both sides, Nightmare. It’s time to choose whose side you’re really on.”

Nova flinched. Below, Renegades were spilling onto the field. Most of the bees had already been killed, and it was impossible to tell how many superheroes had been stung. Half? More?

While the Council barked orders, trying to whisk away the civilian journalists into the sublevels for safety, while simultaneously setting up a defensive perimeter, a second wave of bees surged in through the air vents. This time Honey didn’t bother with the disguise of the paper cranes. The swarm fanned out, hundreds of tiny black specks from Nova’s perspective, diving into the crowd.

Amid the chaos, Nova’s focus landed on Ace. He stood almost serenely in front of the platform, his wrists and legs still shackled.

She felt the weight of the backpack pressing down on her.

Though anger continued to surge through her veins, she tucked her chin and kept moving.

Adrian cursed when he saw a fresh swarm of bees flooding the arena. Captain Chromium’s voice boomed through the speakers, urging Renegades to protect the members of the media whose panicked cries were mixing with the loud buzz of the incoming insects, while trying to organize others into some sort of counterattack. No enemies had yet shown their face, though—only the bees, and they were so small and quick, most Renegade superpowers were useless against them.

“I know this goes without saying,” said Adrian, “but Oscar, Danna… try not to get stung.”

“Real sensitive, Sketch,” Ruby said. Her face was still stricken, but Adrian could tell she was trying not to show how devastated she was at the loss of her powers.

“I have a better idea than just not getting stung,” Oscar growled. His expression had a rarely uncovered ferocity as he lifted both hands and began to flood the stands and the arena with sweet-smelling smoke.

“What are you doing?” said Adrian. The smoke quickly changed from a fine mist to a thick fog. It wasn’t long before Adrian couldbarely see his own hands, much less his companions beside him—or the bees that he could hear buzzing nearby. “Smokescreen, is this supposed to be helpful?”

“They’re bees,” came Oscar’s voice. “Smoke tranquilizes them.”

Adrian tried to blink back the smoke as it stung his eyes, but soon his annoyance dimmed. True enough, the buzzing noise grew quieter as the smoke filled the arena.

“Okay, good thinking,” he admitted, even as he heard a number of their colleagues starting to cough.

The smoke offered one other benefit. Now concealed, Adrian reached for the zipper tattooed over his sternum. With a hiss and a series of clanks, the Sentinel’s armored suit unfolded from the nonexistent pocket beneath his skin, extending over his arms, down his chest and back, enclosing his arms and legs, and finally pulling up over his head. The visor came last, dropping down over his face.

“Oh dear, that’s not verybee-friendly, my smoky friend,” came the thunderous voice again. “I suppose that means we’ll have to resort to planB…” He cackled.

What followed was pure pandemonium. With everyone disoriented by the smoke, it was impossible to tell what was happening throughout the arena, but Adrian could sense from the yelling and grunting that it wasn’t good. He saw flashes of light from the field below, and caught a glimpse of Thunderbird’s wings churning through the smog. He felt the boom of an explosion under his feet. Danna dissolved into butterflies and swept toward the field. Slowly, the fog thinned. Bees were crawling across the backs of chairs and along the rails, but they seemed disinclined to attack anymore. Something soared past Adrian’s helmet—an arrow? A spear? To his left, he heard the ricocheting clang of metal. To his right what sounded like the roar of a feral beast.

One thing was clear: They were under attack; and it wasn’t just bees anymore.

Adrian waited until the mist had cleared enough that he could see vague shapes on the arena floor so he wouldn’t crush anyone beneath his weight. As he prepared to launch himself toward the stage, movement above made him pause.

He squinted at the shadow making its way across the scaffolding near the high, arched ceiling. He waited until he was absolutely certain of what he was seeing.

His gauntlets clenched into fists.

Nightmare.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

NOVA WAS NEARLYto the center of the arena’s lighting system when the truss she was on trembled from a jolting impact. She cried out as the scaffolding rocked beneath her.

Taking hold of a steel safety cable, she glanced over her shoulder.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

The Sentinel was perched precariously on the scaffolding, his armored hands holding the bars of the truss as he tried to get his footing. He lifted his head, and despite not being able to see his face, Nova could practically feel his hatred hit her like a wave.

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