[Luke's POV]
The doors slide open, revealing the sleek, modern interior of Sarah's office in Star Tower. The late afternoon sun streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the polished marble floors.
We step into the room, the tension so thick it feels like wading through molasses. Sarah hurries behind her desk, her metallic legs whirring softly with each step.
I glance at Skye, and my breath catches in my throat. Her emerald eyes are blazing with a fury I've never seen before, the green irises seeming to glow with an inner fire.
Sarah looks absolutely terrified. Her eyes are wide, darting between Skye and me as if searching for an escape route.
"What the FUCK happened?!" Skye screams, her voice echoing off the walls with such force that I half expect the windows to shatter.
Sarah flinches as if physically struck by the words. She opens her mouth to speak, but only a strangled squeak comes out. She clears her throat and tries again, her words tumbling out in a frantic rush.
"I... I don't know," Sarah stammers, her voice trembling. "I was told by everyone there that we had final cut. The questions... they were supposed to be the ones we pre-approved. I went through them myself, I swear!"
Skye slams her fist down on Sarah's desk, the impact leaving a visible dent in the polished wood. "Then how the hell did we end up in a live interview?!" she demands, her voice low and dangerous. "How did that cunt corner us?!"
Sarah finally seems to compose herself, taking a deep breath as she straightens her posture. Her fingers fly across her datapad.
"We were clearly blindsided on purpose," Sarah says, her voice steadier now as she scrolls through the information on her screen. "The network must have made a last-minute decision to go live, knowing we couldn't back out without raising suspicions."
"Fucking obviously!" Skye screams, her voice reverberating off the glass and steel surfaces of the office.
Sarah flinches at Skye's outburst but continues to study her data pad intently. Her eyes widen slightly, a glimmer of hope sparking in their depths. "Super Star," she says, her tone cautiously optimistic, "you're actually trending really well. People seem to believe you didn't kill Luke."
As the words leave Sarah's lips, the office door swings open with a soft whoosh. Veronica Vale strides in, her tailored charcoal suit immaculate, not a hair out of place. Her purple eyes scan the room, taking in the scene before her with an unnerving calm.
"We're under attack, Super Star," Veronica announces, her voice cool and composed despite the gravity of her words.
Skye whirls to face Veronica, her emerald eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and disbelief. "Right fucking now?!"
Veronica takes a step forward, her heels clicking softly on the polished floor.
"Not a physical attack," Veronica clarifies, her voice smooth as silk. "The interview, Super Star. That was an attack on you."
She turns to face me, her expression softening ever so slightly. A delicate smile plays across her lips, a stark contrast to the tension filling the room. "Are you okay, Luke?" she asks, her voice laced with genuine concern.
I swallow hard, suddenly aware of how dry my throat feels. "I'm fine. I'm just worried about Skye."
At my words, Skye's demeanor changes in an instant. The fury that had been radiating off her in waves seems to dissipate, replaced by something softer. Her emerald eyes, which moments ago had been blazing with anger, now look at me with a sadness that tugs at my heart.
"I'm only this angry because Anita made you look like a fool," Skye says.
"Skye," I start to say, taking a step towards her, but Veronica's voice cuts through the moment.
"We need to focus," she says, her tone sharp and businesslike. "This wasn't just a poorly executed interview. It was a calculated move to undermine Super Star's public image by whoever leaked the death in the first place."
Skye reaches out, her hand gently grasping my arm, and pulls me close.
"Look, Luke," she says, her voice low and tender. "We need to figure out a plan. Why don't you go hang out in the arcade?"
I blink, momentarily stunned by her words. The tension in the room seems to shift, morphing into something more complex as I process what she's said.
"Arcade?" I repeat, my voice tinged with disbelief. "You have an arcade?"
The concept seems so weird with the sleek, professional atmosphere of Star Tower that for a moment, I wonder if I've misheard her. But Skye nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite the gravity of the situation.
"Yeah, it's on the 42nd floor," she confirms. "We had it installed for team-building exercises and stress relief."
"Are you trying to push me away?" I can't help but ask.
Skye's eyes widen, a flicker of guilt passing across her face so quickly I almost miss it. She opens her mouth to respond, but I cut her off, a sudden realization hitting me like a freight train.
"Are you going to plan to kill Anita or torture her for information?" The words come out of me calmly. I see Sarah flinch out of the corner of my eye, but I press on, my voice gaining strength. "That's not new to me. My late wife did far worse and included me in the process sometimes."
The room falls silent, the tension palpable as my words hang in the air. Skye's emerald eyes widen a mix of shock and something deeper, more complex, swirling in their depths. Sarah looks utterly horrified, her face pale and drawn. Even Veronica, usually so composed, seems taken aback, her purple eyes narrowing as she studies me with newfound interest.
Skye is the first to break the silence. "Luke," she says, her voice soft but firm, "I appreciate your... understanding. But this isn't something you need to be involved in."
I feel a surge of frustration bubbling up inside me. "Why not?" I ask, my voice rising slightly. "I'm not some delicate flower that needs to be protected. I've seen things, Skye. I've been through things."
Skye's expression softens, a flicker of pain crossing her face. "I know you have," she says gently. "But this... this is different. This is my world, my responsibilities."
"Our world," I correct her, stepping closer. "Our responsibilities. We're partners, remember?"
Skye pulls me closer, her strong arms wrapping around me in a protective embrace. I can feel the warmth of her body through her costume, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against my chest. Her emerald eyes lock onto mine, filled with a mixture of love and sorrow that takes my breath away.
"Luke," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "I don't want you to live a life where you see so much blood. I want you to have a peaceful life with me."
I reach up, cupping her face gently in my hands. "I don't care what life we have," I say, my voice filled with conviction, "as long as we're together."
"As touching as that is," Sarah says, her metallic legs whirring softly as she shifts her weight, "you'll only get in the way."
I turn to look at Sarah, feeling a pang of hurt at her words. Her expression is a mixture of sympathy and resignation as if she's delivering news she wishes she didn't have to.
Veronica nods, her perfectly manicured brows furrowing slightly. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice smooth and controlled, "but I agree."
I sigh and say, "Alright, I guess I'll go to the arcade then." Despite how bittersweet it feels, a sliver of me is excited to see what kind of arcade they have here.
*****
[Mind Mistress's POV]
With Luke gone now, I can start pushing my agenda a little bit easier. A sense of excitement bubbles up inside me, mingling with the lingering frustration from the interview debacle. The office seems to shrink around us, the tension palpable in the air.
I turn to Super Star, studying her face carefully. The fury from earlier still simmers beneath the surface.
"How do you want to kill Anita?" I ask, my voice silky smooth, barely containing my eagerness.
Super Star's eyes flash, a spark of something primal and violent igniting in their depths. "How obvious would it be if I beheaded her tonight?"
"It'd be pretty hard to cover up," I admit, my lips curving into a sly smile. "But if that's what you want, I can probably make it happen."
I can see the gears turning in Super Star's head, her eyes unfocused as she contemplates the possibilities.
Sarah sighs heavily, the sound filled with a weariness that seems to age her beyond her years.
"Is that what you really want, Super Star?" she asks, her voice tinged with annoyance and a hint of fear.
"Yes," Super Star finally says, her voice low and filled with cold fury. "But more than that, I want to know who masterminded this whole leak. Someone orchestrated this attack on us, and I want their head on a platter."
A thrill runs through me at her words, a mixture of excitement and smug satisfaction. I can feel the corners of my mouth twitching, threatening to betray my role in this new scheme. But I force my expression to remain neutral, projecting an air of calm concern that I've perfected over years of deception.
Yet, even as I bask in my triumph, a twinge of frustration nags at me. Super Star's mind remains an impenetrable fortress, her thoughts and desires hidden behind walls that even my considerable powers can't breach. I've tried countless times to slip past her defenses, to bend her will to mine as I've done with so many others. But her superhuman abilities seem to extend to her mental fortitude as well, leaving me powerless to control her directly.
I push the annoyance aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. With carefully measured words, I begin to weave the next strand of my web.
"You know," I say, my voice thoughtful and tinged with just the right amount of concern, "There is only one person I don't trust who was there that night with Luke. A single person that isn't one of us."
Super Star's head snaps towards me, her emerald eyes boring into mine with an intensity that would make a lesser person quail. "Who?" she demands, her voice sharp as a blade.
"Tyrell."
Super Star furrows her brow, her emerald eyes clouding with doubt and confusion.
"You think so?" she asks, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Luke really likes him, though."
"Again," I say, my voice gentle but insistent, "he's the only one we don't know. We have no idea who he works for or what he wants." I pause, letting my words sink in before delivering the final blow. "Occam's razor is screaming his name."
The phrase hangs in the air, heavy with implication. I can almost see the gears turning in Super Star's head as she processes my words, weighing the evidence against her own instincts.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Super Star begins to nod. Her jaw sets in a hard line, emerald eyes hardening with resolve.
"I hated him from the start anyway."
The words are like a death sentence, final and unforgiving.
She turns to Sarah, her gaze unflinching. "When I get back," she says, her voice devoid of emotion, "be ready for Anita's messy corpse."
Sarah's shoulders slump, the fight seeming to drain out of her. "Alright," she says, her voice laced with defeat.