weak, to defend the innocent.
He saw Genissa Clark’s body sprawled against a wall. And in the stands, stubborn Magpie slumped onto the stairs. He saw Winston Pratt in a pool of blood, and Callum Treadwell—Callum—who had almost managed to end the slaughter when he had the helmet. Who, for just a moment, had shown them a different path.
He saw Evander Wade. Blacklight. Adrian had idolized him when he was growing up, convinced that he was by far the coolest of the Renegades’ founding members. He had seemed so carefree, so suave, so quick with a joke.
Now he was dead.
Thunderbird had been neutralized. He spotted her tending to the injured, and almost didn’t recognize her, not only because she no longer had the black wings folded at her back, but also because her face was swollen and burned where Cyanide had touched her. She had always been intimidating, not only with the massive wings, but also with the bolts of lightning she could conjure with a snap of her fingers. Though Captain Chromium often received the credit for being the most powerful of the group, Adrian had often suspected that Thunderbird was actually the strongest—she just wasn’t the type to flaunt it. That argument could never be made again.
Simon was also forever changed. The Dread Warden was gone. Simon Westwood would never again be invisible, would never vanish in the blink of an eye.
But at least, Adrian thought, he would be able to visit with Max now, for as long as he wished.
It was a small consolation, but consolation nonetheless.
If Tsunami was all right, she and Captain Chromium would be the last of the Council with their abilities intact. It was a harrowing thought.
The damage wrought upon the Renegades that night was inconceivable. Not only in lives, but in superpowers, too. How many had been stung by those bees? How many superheroes had been lost?
He sought out his dads. Hugh had managed to free himself using the chromium pike to break apart the shackles, and he was now working to clear the rubbish away, searching for anyone else who might have been caught beneath a crashed wall or fallen truss.
Adrian was heading toward them when something crinkled beneath his boot. He paused and looked down. It was a square of pink-and-gold origami paper, still showing the creases where it had been folded into the delicate crane. Adrian recognized it as the crane that had flown directly to Captain Chromium, before everything had dissolved into chaos.
He picked it up and flipped over the paper, reading the message printed there.
Everyone has a nightmare.
Welcome to yours.
Jaw clenching, he shredded the paper in half, then fourths, tearing it apart until it was nothing but confetti fluttering to the mud.
“Adrian?”
He jolted and was relieved to see his friends tromping toward him through the debris.
Adrian beamed, overwhelmed with joy to see them all alive. He met them halfway, accepting a tight hug from Ruby, a clap on the back from Oscar. He wrapped an arm around Danna’s shoulders, each of them leaning into each other, sweaty, stricken, and exhausted.
With a groan, Oscar collapsed onto a bench that had once been in the upper stands, but was now on the field, sunk halfway in mud. He started massaging the joints of his legs, which Adrian had never seen him do in public, no matter now tough a fight had been. This battle had pushed them all to their limits.
“Ruby, how are your … wounds?” said Adrian, not sure how to distinguish between old wounds and new. Ruby had taken off the gray uniform jacket, revealing a plain tank top and the bandages that she had always kept wrapped over her arm and shoulders. She had never stopped bleeding, not since the attack that had first awoken her powers years ago, but this was the first time Adrian had seen those bandages soaked through with actual blood.
“No more crystals,” she said, and he couldn’t tell if her tone was sad or simply truthful. “Now they won’t stop bleeding. I’m fine, though. I’ll talk to one of the healers after they take care of the people who really need help.”
“Here,” said Adrian, taking out his marker. “I can stitch them up for you.”
Ruby hesitated, but then nodded. Danna helped unwrap the wounds, revealing the deep gashes that had been there, unhealed, for years.
“Do they hurt?” Oscar asked as Adrian wiped away what blood he could and started drawing stitches onto her skin.
“They’ve always hurt,” Ruby said quietly, watching, expressionless.
Oscar started