Chapter 43: Be Kind, Rewind
I'm secured in the back of the cockpit, my wrists bound with some kind of high-tech restraints that pulse with a soft blue light. The world still has a slightly fuzzy quality around the edges. The lingering effects of whatever drugs are still coursing through my system.
As we soar over a sprawling cityscape far below, a question that's been nagging at me finally bubbles to the surface. "Why did we leave Dark Girl behind?" I ask, my words slightly slurred.
Dark Star, seated at the controls in front of me, doesn't turn around. Her gloved hands move over the console with practiced ease, making minute adjustments to our flight path. For a moment, I think she might not have heard me over the low hum of the engines.
But then she sighs. "Luke," she says, her voice uncharacteristically soft, "do you have any connection with Lady Ruin?"
I can't help but scoff at the question, a short, bitter laugh escaping my lips. "Never met her," I reply, shaking my head. The motion makes the world spin a little, and I have to close my eyes for a moment to steady myself.
"Then why does she want you?" she asks her tone a mixture of curiosity and frustration.
I furrow my brow, trying to make sense of Dark Star's question through the fog still clouding my mind. The restraints chafe against my wrists as I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
"How the fuck would I know, sweaty Batlady?!" I yell, my voice cracking slightly. The outburst leaves me breathless, and I slump back in my chair, suddenly exhausted.
Dark Star sighs again, her shoulders sagging beneath her cape.
As we approach our destination, an unsettling sight fills the windshield. Where the iconic New York skyline should be, there's nothing but a massive, smoldering crater. The devastation is absolute, stretching as far as the eye can see. No buildings, no streets, no signs of life, just a barren wasteland where one of the world's greatest cities once stood.
Dark Star leans forward. She studies a readout intently.
"No radiation," she murmurs. As she guides the jet into a smooth descent, her next words are tinged with awe and fear. "What power..."
The Dark Jet touches down on the edge of the crater with barely a tremor. Dark Star's fingers fly over the controls, powering down the engines. For a moment, we sit in silence, the enormity of the destruction before us sinking in.
Then, with a soft hiss, the cockpit hatch begins to open. Fresh air rushes in, carrying with it the scent of smoke.
Before the hatch is fully open, a figure appears at the edge of the cockpit. Lady Ruin stands there, her green cape billowing dramatically in the wind kicked up by the jet's engines.
"Good," Lady Ruin says, her voice rich and resonant even without the aid of technology. "You really brought him to me."
Dark Star moves with fluid grace, her cape rippling behind her as she exits the jet. The scorched earth crunches beneath her boots, a grim reminder of the devastation that surrounds us. As she approaches, I can see the tension in her shoulders, the slight tremor in her hands that betrays her calm exterior.
Lady Ruin's imposing figure looms over us. Her voice, when she speaks, carries an otherworldly resonance that makes my skin prickle.
"Why is he restrained?" Lady Ruin demands, her tone sharp with disapproval.
Dark Star stands tall, her posture radiating a strange sense of acceptance. It's as if she's made peace with some greater fate that I can't begin to comprehend. When she speaks, her voice is steady, almost eerily calm.
"Because he tried to kill himself," Dark Star replies simply.
The words hang in the air, heavy and oppressive. For a moment, the world seems to hold its breath.
Lady Ruin's composure breaks. Her helmet tilts sharply, and though I can't see her face, the shock is palpable in her voice. "Why would Luke try to kill himself?"
Without waiting for an answer, Lady Ruin hovers over to me, her movements unnaturally smooth. She leans in close, studying my face intently. I can see my own distorted reflection in her polished helmet, my eyes glassy and unfocused from the drugs.
'Dude, I look good.' I can't help but feel myself for a moment despite the anxiety in the air.
Her gaze drops to my wrists, lingering on the restraints and the wound beneath, hastily glued shut after my desperate attempt. When she speaks again, her voice is softer, tinged with something that might be concern.
"What happened to your wrist, Luke?"
I blink slowly, struggling to focus on her bright helmet. "S'not much."
Lady Ruin's head snaps up, her attention now fully on Dark Star. The air crackles with tension, the very atmosphere seeming to warp around her as her anger builds.
"What did you do to him?" she demands, her voice low and dangerous.
Dark Star looks to Lady Ruin. "Can we step aside and talk about this alone?" she asks, her voice low and urgent.
Lady Ruin's helmet tilts again. For a moment, she seems almost resistant to the idea of leaving my side.
"Fine," Lady Ruin finally says, her voice tight with barely contained anger.
The two women move away, their forms silhouetted against the hazy sky. I watch through half-lidded eyes as they retreat.
Ten minutes pass, or maybe an hour. It's hard to tell in this altered state.
I strain to hear snippets of their conversation, carried to me on errant gusts of wind. Lady Ruin's voice rises and falls, a storm of emotion barely contained within her otherworldly resonance. Dark Star's replies are softer, more measured, but even from here I can sense the weight of guilt and shame in her words.
As Dark Star finishes recounting the events of the past 24 hours, Lady Ruin's reaction is visceral and immediate. Her voice, filled with fury and disgust.
"You are a complete failure of a hero," Lady Ruin spits out. "You should be ashamed of yourself."
Lady Ruin hovers back over to me, her green cape billowing dramatically behind her. With surprising gentleness, she reaches out and releases the clasp of my safety harness. The restraint falls away, no longer pinning me to the seat.
Her silver-gloved hands move to my wrists next, deftly undoing the high-tech cuffs. As they fall away, I can see red impressions where they chafed against my skin. Lady Ruin's fingers linger for a moment, her touch feather-light as she traces the marks on my left wrist.
"You're safe now," she says, her voice soft and reassuring.
I blink up at her, my drug-fueld mind struggling to process everything that's happening.
"Did you kill my wife?" I ask, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. My voice sounds small and fragile, even to my own ears.
Lady Ruin goes very still. Then, with a movement so smooth it's almost imperceptible, she reaches out and cups my chin in her hand. Her grip is firm but not painful, forcing me to meet her hidden gaze.
When she speaks, there's an edge to her voice, a hint of something wild and desperate beneath the calm exterior. "That woman wasn't your wife, okay?" she says, each word crisp and deliberate.
I furrow my brow, confusion and the lingering effects of the drugs making it hard to focus. "But... but we signed the documents," I protest weakly.
Lady Ruin sighs heavily, the sound echoing oddly within her helmet.
"How long will these drugs last?" she asks Dark Star, her voice tinged with annoyance.
Dark Star shifts uncomfortably. "It could be a few more hours," she admits, the guilt palpable in her tone. "He'll be better after he gets a good night's rest."
Lady Ruin's hand moves to my head, her touch surprisingly docile as she strokes my hair.
"I'm only letting you live because you followed instructions," Lady Ruin says to Dark Star, her voice cold. The words cut through the air like a knife, sharp and unforgiving.
Dark Star nods solemnly. "I understand," she replies, her voice barely above a whisper. The weight of her failure hangs heavy in the air between them, an almost tangible presence.
Lady Ruin turns back to me. With a grace that seems to defy the laws of physics, she leans down and gathers me into her arms.
The embrace would be nice if she wasn't a stranger. Her cape envelops us both.
When she speaks, her voice resonates not just in my ears but through my entire being.
"When Super Star wakes up," Lady Ruin says to Dark Star, her tone laced with mockery, "tell her to learn to move on."
She pauses, allowing the weight of her words to settle over the desolate landscape.
"And when that doesn't work," she continues, each syllable dripping with disdain, "tell her she'll never get through Utopia's barrier, no matter how hard she tries."
Suddenly, mid-hug, the world around us blurs and shifts. The inhospitable hellscape of New York vanishes in an instant, replaced by a dazzling cityscape that takes my breath away. We're standing in the center of what can only be described as a futuristic paradise, a wonder of architecture and technology that defies imagination.
Towering spires of gleaming metal and glass stretch towards the sky, their surfaces shimmering with iridescent patterns that seem to pulse with life. Sleek vehicles glide silently and orderly. The streets are immaculate, lined with lush greenery, and dotted with holographic displays that flicker and dance in the air.
The air itself feels different here, crisp and clean in a way I've never experienced before. The temperature is perfect, neither too hot nor too cold, as if the entire city exists in a perpetual state of ideal comfort.
People mill about, their clothing a riot of colors and styles that blend futuristic designs with elements that seem almost timeless. They move with purpose and energy, their faces alight with contentment and vigor.
Lady Ruin's arms are still around me, her embrace warm and secure amidst the sensory overload of our new surroundings.
"Welcome to Utopia, Luke," she says, her words vibrating through me. "Your new home."
But I'm barely listening. My head is struggling to process the overwhelming sensory input of this impossible city. And then, amidst all the wonders and marvels, something catches my eye. Something so outlandish, so utterly familiar but out of place in this vision of the future, that I can't help but fixate on it.
With a trembling hand, I point to a storefront nestled between two gleaming towers of impossible architecture. The faded blue and yellow sign is unmistakable, a relic from a bygone era that has no business existing here.
"Is that... is that a Blockbuster?" I ask, my voice filled with disbelief and confusion.
Lady Ruin nods. When she speaks, there's an unsettling edge to her voice, a mixture of pride and something darker, more obsessive.
"Yes, Luke," she says, her words ringing with an almost manic glee. "Yes, it is. It is."