The Glass Knight

The eyepatch fit snuggly, the line of black fabric tied tight around the back of his head, digging into his skull. Damien tugged on the hood of his dark jacket, wishing he could hide his face entirely. In the dark hoodie and eyepatch, Damien was well aware he looked suspicious, something he'd learn to try and avoid, but hopefully the missing hand was enough to make people think he was just an unfortunate victim.

He stepped onto the train, scanning his ticket before stuffing it into his pocket. The only belongings he had to his name was the bag on his back, everything else abandoned back at the tower. His car, because he was certain Vora could track it if she wanted, his guitar, his clothes. All he had was his go bag, and the prosthetic hand he couldn't bring himself to part with just yet, wrapped up in fabric and buried at the bottom of his bag.

It would have been smarter to leave it behind. Drop it somewhere in a dumpster, or better yet, a sewer, but he couldn't bring himself to part with it. There was no doubt Vora could find him with it, which was why it was powered off, but it was too useful. All those power cores, not to mention the fact that it was his hand.

Finding his seat, Damien slid across the hard plastic until his shoulder was pressed against the window, glass cool against his side. Staring out the window, he watched the smokey skyline for a moment before dragging his attention back to the train. With his right eye covered, he couldn't observe the train like he usually would, a situation that put him on edge. Worse, there was nothing technically wrong with the eye. He could take the eyepatch off and be able to relax, but he couldn't allow himself to do that. Whatever Vora had done to his eye, the implant he should never have let her to install, allowed her to see through it, and he couldn't afford that. He didn't need Vora finding him or figuring out where he was going. It was bad enough that she could still contact him.

She'd only messaged him once, since her escape. He hadn't responded.

Bring me my research.

No threat, no bargaining, just a demand.

It would have been easier to just go along with it. Though, Damien wouldn't be able to access her research now even if he wanted. Whether she meant her technical research, or Vivainne, both the Tower of Unity and Vivainne had been left far behind.

I hope she's safe, Damien thought. He'd never gotten close to her like he'd planned originally. They weren't friends. However, he felt that he understood her, at least in part. He didn't want her falling into Vora's hands, but he hadn't stuck around long enough to find out if she was safe or not.

Passengers filled out the train until the car Damien was in was packed, every seat filled, including the one beside him. He squirmed, trying not to touch the person beside him.

This wasn't typical for the train. He had no doubt that the prison break and subsequent damage from those criminal metas was what was causing the mass exodus from the city.

He shut his eyes. The discomfort of being unguarded was less than the guilt of staring at all these displaced souls.

I don't know what I was ever thinking.

This was his fault. There was no way around that. If he hadn't given Vora the information, she wouldn't be free now. He'd been selfish, short sighted. He'd caused the very thing that had originally driven him to Vora and away from the Unity system. If he was a better person, he'd turn himself in, but even then, Vora would still be able to find him. He needed to fix that problem first, then he would turn himself in.

What would the heroes do with me?

He didn't know, and he didn't care. Whatever the punishment was, he would deserve it.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

I didn't even say goodbye.

Well, that didn't matter. Florence would be heartbroken, probably, up until he found out what Damien had done. And then he would hate him, and Damien would deserve it.

He tried to sleep until he reached Chicago, only managing to get a few minutes here and there as hours passed. The rest of the time he was plagued by the voices around him, discussing the villains now freed. The Unity Tower had issued an official list of the criminals that remained at large, warning the public to be wary and steer clear if they saw any of them. Some were criminals that had been locked up for decades, nearly since the meta prison was first built to contain some of the threats the Titans brought down.

The heroes would have their hands full for quite some time. Vora knew what she was doing.

The train reached Chicago, and Damien escaped out into the night. He had no proof that Nessa was still here, but it was the last place he'd seen her, and it was the only clue he had.

Getting a taxi, Damien got a ride to the place he'd last seen the older Monet sister, ignoring the driver's pointed look when he gave the address. The drive passed in silence, until the driver spoke up as they came close, warning him the area wasn't safe.

Ignoring him, he thanked the driver and hopped out of the car, telling him he didn't need to wait. Clearly uneasy, the car drove off slowly, the driver watching through the mirrors until he was forced to turn at the end of the street. Only then did Damien move, expanding the sense of his powers as he made his way toward the parking lot.

It wasn't that he expected Nessa to be there, but it was possible she was nearby.

Opening up his technopathy, Damien searched for her. There were occasional pieces of technology peaking out at him, but nothing that resembled the girl that was mostly cybernetic at this point. Frowning, he pushed his sixth sense out further in all directions.

Somewhere beneath him, what must have been deep underground, it appeared like a beacon. Nessa, or something else?

The light began to move, and relief bloomed in Damien's chest.

Nessa was coming.

How she knew he was there, he didn't know. She had so many powers, more than he knew by name, and undoubtedly had friends of her own, but he couldn't have been more grateful.

Leaning back against a low concrete wall, Damien waited, watching as a hidden door on the other side of the empty parking lot opened up. The figure was cloaked, not even their eyes visible, and for a moment Damien had to wonder if he'd made a mistake.

Then the hood tipped back, and that familiar blue glow shone from beneath.

A smile split across his face. "Nessa."

"Finally realize I was right?" she demanded, voice harsh and metallic, modulated somewhere inside her throat. Trying to figure out exactly where the human ended and the technology began with her was useless, it was all so intertwined. He released his hold on his power, letting it fade into nothing more than background noise.

The relief that had appeared at the sight of her faded as her words sunk in, the guilt returning in full force. "Yes," he said, the word strangled as it left his mouth. "I need your help."

"Why exactly do you think I can help you?" she demanded. Gears whirred as she stopped in front of him, crossing her arms over her chest. The sleek, reflective fabric of her coat covered every glow of her prosthetics, except for that of her eye.

"Can we go somewhere to talk?"

"No."

He bit down a sigh before it could escape his lips. Fine, if she wanted to force him to talk here, he would talk. "Vora did something to me. Implanted something behind my eye." He motioned at the eyepatch. "She can see through it. I want to be free of her."

Nessa appraised him, his face unreadable. Scars crossed her face, some more recent than others. New ones he hadn't seen before. Whatever she was doing here in Chicago, it wasn't pretty, or safe.

"This eye?" Nessa demanded, lifting a hand. Metal fingers remained in the air, inches before his covered eye. He refused to let himself flinch.

"Yes. There's an implant behind it. I can sense it. Can you help me get it out?"

Nessa stared at him for a moment before nodding once. "Hold still," she said, reaching out. With one hand, she pinned him to the cold, concrete wall. The other found the tie to his eyepatch.

"Wait—"

The piece of fabric dropped to the ground, drifting away in the wind as Nessa leaned in close, the glow of her prosthetic eye only growing brighter. A cruel, scarred smile twisted across her face as she stared into his eye.

"Hello, mother."

She pressed the tips of her fingers around Damien's eye. He managed to contain his first screan as metal pierced his skin, but none of the ones that followed.