Interlude Three

"Have you embraced our Lord and Savior?" Ken asked, holding a Bible.

He was smiling gently, inoffensively. It was important to show the lost lambs that they were loved. Many would look with disapproval at a young man with spiked hair, dressed in torn jeans and leather. But Ken did not judge. That was God's prerogative alone.

God's mercy and love are infinite. Ken was but a poor sinner, yet he tried.

"You do realize this is an abandoned warehouse? Strange place to preach," the punk said, his tone laced with an amused sneer.

Ken admonished himself internally. Just because the other man talked and dressed differently, he had labelled him a punk. And just after he had prided himself on being nonjudgmental. The sin was insidious. He would need to add extra prayers in penance, in the evening.

"It is said in the Good Book, 'Where two or three of Christ's followers are gathered, there I am among them.' I believe this place is as good as any house of worship," Ken responded, his voice steady and full of conviction.

"So, you have a friend here? Is he hiding?"

"I meant you."

"I'm neither a God botherer nor your friend."

"But you could be. Would you allow me to share the Good Word? With you and everyone else who has taken shelter here?"

The punk paused, his sneer softening into a curious gaze. "It should be good for a laugh. Come in."

Ken followed the so-called lost lamb. If his gaze lingered a bit longer than appropriate on the tight jeans of other young men, it was another penance to be added to his list. This was a personal trial he endeavored to bear with grace, though his success varied from day to day.

The interior of the building was as ruined as its exterior, filled with various rusted machinery, junk, and trash. The smell was unpleasant, but Ken reminded himself not to judge.

At a makeshift table, a large young black man was playing cards with a white girl whose messy reddish-brown hair was tied with a simple bow.

A pair of dark-skinned young women were watching from the side, warming themselves by the fire lit in a metal barrel.

"Look what I found outside!" the guide shouted, drawing their attention. "He's here to save our souls."

"Axel, what the fuck! Why did you bring a stranger here?" one of the dark-skinned girls shouted.

"He's harmless, Mick," Axel shouted back, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space. "Just some preacher boy."

"He's far from harmless," the other dark-skinned girl, the one with long, flowing hair, said. Turning to Ken, she demanded, "What do you want?"

Realizing the disguise was futile, Three discarded Ken's persona. He stretched, moving with fluid predatory grace, and his gentle smile morphed into something sharper.

"Just to talk, Eight," Three said. "I mean you no harm."

"My name's Kali. We had names before they took us. We can take them back."

"You may indulge in pointless nostalgia, but I am not that boy anymore. I have no more attachment to the name my parents saddled me with than to any other."

He had so many names. And would have more in the future. Even Three was not truer than any other, even if it was one he used among the people who believed to know him.

"Do you know this guy, Kali?" the white girl with the messy reddish-brown hair asked.

"Remember Jane. He's like her, Dotty," Kali replied, her gaze locked on Three with an intensity that betrayed her concern. He felt a flicker of indignation—it was only proper, considering he was the most dangerous person in the room.

"You have a brother, Kali?" the large black man inquired.

"More than one," Three interjected, his voice carrying an amused drawl. "Papa had something of a child-snatching hobby. There are nineteen of us, including Kali."

"Nineteen?" Kali's confusion was palpable.

"Well, I don't know if Jane told you, but it turns out One is real. He's just a mass-murdering cannibal, so Papa separated him from us. Surprisingly sound parenting from him, I must say. But I suppose even a broken clock is right once a day."

"That still leaves one short," Kali pointed out.

"Papa added another to our number after escaping the madhouse. Nineteen. Goes by Will. Nice kid. Has some cool drawings."

"So that means that have powers, like Kali?" Mick asked.

"I talk, and people listen," Three said simply.

Axel snorted dismissively. "That's a lame power."

"You just think that because you have a small dick," Three countered smoothly, adding just a slight, persuasive nudge with his voice.

"What?" Axel protested, visibly ruffled by the comment.

"People with small dick are insecure and envious," Three continued, his tone neutral yet somehow compelling.

"It's not small!" Axel retorted, his voice a mix of defiance and irritation. "It's big."

"Sure, I believe you," Three replied, his tone dripping with scepticism so palpable it left no doubt of his actual stance.

"I show you," Axle firmly said, and pushed pants and underwear down.

Three licked his lips, like a cat that got canary. It was not just a nice sight, but also proved his point, "See, I talk, and people listen."

"Cover yourself, Axel," Kali said sternly, then turned back to Three, her gaze sharp. "Why are you here, Three?"

"Maybe I missed you," Three replied, his tone light but his eyes betraying a hint of sincerity.

Kali just raised an eyebrow, sceptical.

Undeterred, Three continued, his speech quickening with excitement. "Maybe I wanted to share family gossip. Can you believe Two got himself a steady boyfriend? A famous artist, even. Pity Trevor doesn't seem keen on getting to know me better. And Two, he's gone and chosen a new name for himself—calls himself Damien now. Oh, and Jane? She got her father back. Not Papa, the sperm donor. Turns out he didn't die in Vietnam. He was just abducted by aliens. Happens more often than you'd think."

The flood of information served a dual purpose—a distraction and a vector for subtle intrusion. Three knew he had to be more careful with Kali; she was gifted, too.

"Be serious," Kali said, though the edge in her voice softened slightly, a hint of relaxation in her posture suggesting she was becoming less wary of Three.

"As you wish," Three replied with a theatrical bow, then shifted to a more serious demeanour. "I'm here to warn you. You can't continue like this."

"Like this?" Kali echoed, her brow furrowing.

"Petty theft, squatting in abandoned buildings, interspersed with occasional bouts of murderous vengeance."

"We've managed so far," Kali countered firmly.

"That was when people didn't believe in psychic powers. When cops would either omit unbelievable stuff from their reports or weren't taken seriously if they included it. But things are changing. The era of hiding is nearly over. Events have overtaken us."

"And what would you have me do? Stop using my powers?"

"Of course not. Come with me. The people I'm with can protect you."

"And what of them?" Kali said, gesturing towards her friends.

"Bring them with you. There's a place for everyone in the world we're building."

"Did you leave Brenner just to follow someone exactly like him?"

"Not like him at all. Papa was jealous and fearful of our abilities. He wanted to control us. My new benefactor is like us, just older and more knowledgeable. We can help you train your powers. What you've discovered on your own is just the tip of the iceberg. You have no idea of your potential."

Mick snorted. "What, are you recruiting Kali for the X-Men? Is she supposed to fight for people who hate and despise her?"

Axel chimed in, "Does Kali get to wear spandex?"

All of them laughed, except for Kali. She responded, "For this, I'd need to trust you. I feel like I can, which definitely means that I shouldn't. It's been some time, but I haven't forgotten you."

"Stupid of you, but I won't insist. Just don't get caught. I'd hate to see you vivisected."

"Why would that matter to you? Don't say it's because you care about me. I won't believe it."

"I just don't want those people to develop effective weapons against us. If you're so enamoured with the goon life, seek out Red Widow in Chicago. Four is playing at being a crime boss. You could start the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants together. Or Hellfire Club."