Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)

The villa was quiet.

Too quiet, the stillness pressing in like a weight, broken only by the faint hum of the half-lit chandeliers above, casting a pale glow over the polished wood of the dining table.

Plates sat in front of Freya and Rhea—still warm, though neither had truly bothered with the taste, their forks moving mechanically through the motions of eating.

Clara had left nearly an hour ago, slipping back to the hospital after Liss vanished with the green-haired girl.

She'd walked out without ceremony, her white coat trailing like a whisper of authority, her snow-white hair catching the last light as she left the two women alone with their restless thoughts.

Now it was just them, the air heavy with unspoken worry.

Rhea stabbed half-heartedly at her food, her crimson wavy hair tangled and wild, falling over one shoulder, streaks of ash catching the lamplight like dying embers.

Her amber eyes looked dulled tonight, glowing faintly only when she shifted her gaze toward the window, searching the darkness beyond.

Her white tank top clung to her curvy frame, her exposed midriff rising and falling with uneven breaths, betraying the agitation she tried to hide.

Freya sat across from her, posture straight despite the exhaustion etching faint lines around her blue eyes.

Her platinum-cyan hair framed her angular face in sharp lines, her cold gaze piercing as ever, though softened by fatigue.

The cyan t-shirt she wore hugged her toned, busty figure, her navy pants stretched neatly as she sat poised, fork moving with mechanical precision, each bite a necessity rather than enjoyment.

They ate in silence, the clink of cutlery the only sound in the cavernous room.

The food had no taste, not tonight.

Freya's cooking was usually measured, meticulous—every spice placed exactly where it should be, every dish a balance of flavor and craft.

But tonight, it was dull, a shadow of her usual skill, as if her focus had been siphoned away by the gnawing worry they both shared.

They ate anyway, because their bodies demanded fuel, and there was nothing else to do while the hours dragged on.

Minutes stretched, heavy and oppressive.

Finally, Rhea slammed her fork down with a dull clink, the sound sharp in the quiet.

"This is killing me," she said, her voice rough, her amber eyes flashing with frustration.

Freya didn't look up, chewing and swallowing methodically.

"I know," she said evenly, her tone calm but not dismissive.

Rhea leaned forward, resting her arms on the table, fists clenched, her crimson hair spilling forward.

"We should've gone with her. We should be out there searching, not sitting here like idiots while—while he's with her!" Her voice cracked on the last word, raw emotion breaking through her usual bravado.

Freya set her fork down gently, her movements deliberate, her cold blue eyes lifting to pin Rhea in place.

"If Liss had found him," she said, her voice steady, "she would've called."

"She hasn't," Rhea shot back, her tone biting, her hands gripping the edge of the table. "Which means she hasn't found him—or worse—"

Freya cut her off with a raised hand, sharp and final. "Don't."

The silence stretched, brittle as glass, ready to shatter under the weight of their shared fear.

Rhea looked down, her jaw tight, muttering under her breath, "I hate this. I hate feeling useless."

Freya's jaw flexed.

She leaned back in her chair, her long fingers drumming once against the tabletop, a quiet rhythm to steady herself.

Then her voice softened, though it retained its icy edge. "Kael will be fine."

Rhea's head snapped up, her amber eyes burning with disbelief. "How can you say that?"

"Because," Freya said, her gaze unwavering, "he's already proven it. He's not strong—not like us. He's not even A ranked, not a hero by any measure. But he's still alive. After everything—villains, raids, walking into nightmares he should never have survived. If the gods exist, maybe they blessed him. If not…"

She allowed herself the faintest ghost of a smile, a rare warmth breaking through. "…then Kael's just too stubborn to die."

Rhea blinked, her expression softening as a shaky laugh escaped her lips, the sound half-relief, half-exasperation. "That sounds like him."

Freya nodded once, her smile fading but the conviction lingering.

"Exactly. So stop cursing him with your doubts. He'll come back."

Rhea huffed, leaning back in her chair, her crimson hair catching the light as she crossed her arms. "Fine. You win."

They sat in silence again, the quiet feeling a little lighter now, a fragile truce against the weight of uncertainty.

And then—

Ding.

A soft notification sound pinged from Freya's phone on the table, sharp and intrusive in the stillness.

Both heads snapped toward it, their bodies tensing as if the sound were a gunshot.

Freya unlocked it with a swift tap, her blue eyes narrowing as she read the message from an unknown number.

Her brows furrowed, her lips parting slightly as she scanned the text:

We are the Superhero Support.

Per Lightning Lass's orders, we have traced Kael's phone. Coordinates are attached.

A map link glowed at the bottom, a red pin pulsing in the middle of a remote forest clearing, far from the city's edges.

Rhea shot up, her chair scraping the floor with a harsh screech.

"Coordinates?! Where is it?"

Freya clicked the link, the map expanding on her screen, zooming in on the isolated location.

"It's… near the outskirts. Remote. Almost nothing else around—deep in the lighter forest."

Rhea's hands gripped the back of her chair, her knuckles whitening. "That's him. That has to be him!"

Freya's eyes narrowed, her mind racing as she studied the map, the pin's steady pulse like a heartbeat. "Or it's a trap."

But her heart beat faster, a flicker of hope warring with caution.

Rhea leaned in, peering at the map over Freya's shoulder, her voice urgent. "We can't ignore it."

Freya tapped her phone, her fingers moving fast, already pulling up a call. "We won't."

She dialed, the line ringing once, twice.

And then—Liss picked up, her voice sharp and breathless on the other end. "Freya."

Freya cut straight to it, her tone clipped. "Did you find him?"