Chapter 189: Arsenal?
"So that’s your job." Nicholas turned to Julie, his tone entirely business now. "You go in first. You get us eyes on the inside."
"But the dome kills all external communication," Selena pointed out, her brow furrowed. "We saw it happen live on the news feeds—the whole state went dark the second that barrier went up. No signals get in or out. Even if she sneaks in and films everything, how does the footage reach us out here? She’d have to walk all the way back across the perimeter line to show us, and by then, the enemy’s positions could have completely changed."
"That’s the beautiful part." Julie beamed proudly, tapping the side of her camera casing. "You’re both completely forgetting what my ability actually is. I don’t just film stuff. Whatever footage I capture, I can project outside my own line of sight in real time. It’s how I stream from deep underground caves and places with zero cell reception. The feed doesn’t travel through the air like a normal digital signal—it just... appears wherever I’ve anchored my projection point." She patted the little device like a proud parent. "Dome or no dome, if I film it in there, you’ll see it out here. Live and in high definition."
Nicholas nodded slowly. It was, he had to admit, the exact right ability for this specific reconnaissance job. Fate clearly had a strange sense of humor, handing the ultimate covert infiltration tool to the single least serious person he had ever met.
"Then that’s settled," he said, setting the variable aside. "You get in, you show us their layout, and we build the real strike plan off what you find." He fixed her with a sharp, cold look. "And remember: quietly. You are a camera with legs and nothing else. Understood?"
"A camera with legs," Julie agreed cheerfully, giving him a crisp salute. "Got it!"
Then Nicholas turned his gaze to Selena.
"As for you." He looked her over from head to toe, assessing her physical frame the exact same way he evaluated a rifle before a contract. "You’re coming into that dome with me. Which means, between right now and the moment we cross that line, I’m going to teach you how to actually fight and how to handle a weapon."
Selena’s brow twitched dangerously.
"Excuse me?" She folded her arms tightly over her chest, stepping toward him. "I know how to fight, thank you very much. I know how to use a weapon. I am not some helpless civilian you need to babysit."
"That’s a lie."
"It is not a lie, I—"
"It is." Nicholas said it flatly and without a trace of heat, which somehow made the statement ten times worse. "In all the time since I joined the Hero Association, I have never once seen you do anything functional in the field except talk. You show up. You look through your watch glass. You read me a quick briefing on whatever ability I’m about to face and list its weaknesses, and then you stand at a safe, comfortable distance while I do all the actual work." He gave a slight, indifferent shrug. "You essentially took over the role of my old X glasses, nothing more. Past that, you’ve been a physical liability every single time a situation got ugly. If a fight ever actually reached your position, you would have been in severe trouble."
Selena’s jaw tightened, a flush of anger hitting her cheeks. "I’ll have you know I went through standard combat training. Every supervisor in my position does."
"You went through training," Nicholas agreed smoothly. "Just not the kind of training you’re pretending you did."
Selena stilled completely, the anger freezing on her face.
"The ’training’ supervisors go through," Nicholas continued, his voice completely even, "isn’t really about learning how to fight in a war zone. It’s about learning how to read people. How to look at any ability user and instantly break down what their power is, how it functions mechanically, and where its fatal flaw lies. How to identify the exact lever that would bring them down." He held her gaze steadily. "Because a supervisor’s real job was never just to support the hero. It’s to understand him so thoroughly that if he ever lost his mind and went rogue, someone would already know precisely how to put him in the ground."
The alcove fell dead quiet.
Selena stared at him. For once, all the sharp, sarcastic defiance completely drained out of her face, replaced by a dark, hollow shock.
Because that was it. That was the hidden, ugly truth buried at the absolute center of her entire profession—the classified protocol they revealed to supervisors only after years of loyal service, the exact reason the Hero Association could sleep soundly at night with unstable monsters like Dr. Bane on their payroll. Every supervisor was a leash and a concealed knife, dressed up as a helpful administrative assistant. And she had never, not once, breathed a single word of that secret to anyone.
She thought back to all the tactical briefings she had given him over the months. All the detailed ability breakdowns and critical weaknesses she had rattled off so casually before his fights. She had always told herself it was simply to help him win his matches. And it was. But it was also practice—the exact same observational muscle the Association wanted her keeping razor-sharp, just in case the day ever came when the target she was assigned to break down was Nicholas himself.
"...How," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "How do you know that? That’s... nobody is supposed to know that. That’s strictly need-to-know. Even most top-tier heroes don’t..."
"I’ve known for a while," Nicholas said casually, as if discussing the weather. "It wasn’t hard to work out, once I noticed you knew a little too much about exactly how to hurt people who trust you."
Selena’s mouth opened, then closed again. She had no idea what to say—no idea what to do with the staggering realization that the man she had been assigned to monitor and, if necessary, eliminate, had quietly understood the true nature of her job this entire time. And he had simply said nothing. He had let her keep supervising him. He had let her stand right beside him, fully aware of what she was really there for.
She was still reeling, desperately grasping for her emotional footing, when Nicholas gave her zero time to dwell on it.
"But that’s actually useful," he said, stepping right past her stunned silence as though he hadn’t just detonated the entire ethical foundation of her career. "That analytical eye of yours. You can look at any fighter and instantly know how to break them apart. Inside that dome, where nobody has powers, that skill isn’t a leash anymore. It’s a massive tactical edge. I’ll handle teaching you the physical mechanics—how to hold a blade, where to strike, and how to survive long enough to use what you already see." He was already turning toward the exit. "We don’t have time to be shocked. We move now."
"Nicholas, wait, I—"
"We’re going to need equipment," he cut across her cleanly, checking the dark window, the distant burning horizon, and the precious hours slipping away. "Real equipment. Not standard hero gear. The dome strips away abilities, but it doesn’t stop cold steel." He paused briefly. "Which is fine. I kept my original arsenal back at home."
That snapped Selena right out of her daze faster than anything else could have.
"...Your what?" She blinked rapidly, staring at his back. "Your arsenal? What arsenal? You have an arsenal? In your private apartment? Where your young sisters live?!"
"It’s very well hidden."
"That is NOT the part I am concerned about!"
Nicholas was already walking out the door, tugging his dark coat straight over his newly healed frame.
"It’s better if you just see it," he said flatly.
And something in the completely matter-of-fact way he said it—the total lack of theatrical drama, as though keeping a hidden armory of military-grade weapons behind a living room couch was the most ordinary thing in the world—made a cold little shiver run straight down Selena’s spine.
She looked over at Julie. Julie looked right back at her, her eyes wide as saucers.
"...He has an actual arsenal," Julie whispered, sounding equal parts delighted and utterly horrified.
"I heard," Selena said faintly, rubbing her temples as she hurried after him into the corridor.