The Impulse Protocol: Part 1 Scene 6
Content Warnings: Violence, blood, death
Archer stood in front of Evan, who was stretching his arms. She cracked her knuckles in response and jumped in place a bit to get the blood flowing through her legs.
“Alright, how does this work?” she asked.
Evan shook his head. “Your new personality will never get old.” A smirk played on his lips. “We’re going to go through a few exercises. You’ve been out for a while and we’re going to make sure you don’t collapse the moment your heart starts beating a little too quickly.”
Archer scoffed, glad she wasn’t trying to hide who he was, at least personality-wise. “You think I’m out of shape because I slept for twenty-four hours and have a concussion?”
“Oh, you think you’re so smart?” Evan replied playfully. “Then why don’t we check your cockiness with a little sparring match? I win, you’re doing this my way. You win, and, well, maybe we don’t need to be doing this at all.” He chuckled.
Archer narrowed her eyes, a grin creeping onto her face. “You’re on, pretty boy.”
His eyebrows shot up.
“No powers?” she countered.
He nodded. “No powers.”
Archer raised her fists, forcing her body into a fighting stance. She would’ve thought that a superhero would be used to one of these, but the muscle memory just wasn’t there. Without her powers, or the muscle memory, she only had her mind to help her out. Maybe this would be a bit harder than she thought it was going to be.
“Impressive. Looks like you’ve been paying attention during our spats with the villains,” Evan said. “But you’re going to need a bit more than that to beat me.” He threw out a punch, but Archer could tell that he was holding back. He didn’t actually expect her to be any good at fighting, and he was also likely going easy on her since she still had a concussion.
She danced back, out of range of his punch. Even without the formal training, Ann’s body was still used to fighting. She recalled Stella’s fighting style. She was trained to pull out of the way, keep distance, and zap people with lightning bolts. But in a sparring match without the use of powers, Archer would have to get close. She just hoped her reaction time could keep up once Evan realized she wasn’t messing around.
He launched another fist and she ducked under it. Once she resurfaced, she pushed his arm away. His weight shifted and she took advantage, pressing the attack. He quickly recovered and blocked her following punches. She pulled back, realizing that she wasn’t as fast nor as experienced as she was in this body, so she’d have to be smarter.
“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Well, ever since I was kidnapped and apparently lost my original personality, I might be a little more focused,” she said.
As she stepped closer to Evan, a blistering pain erupted from her forehead. Forgetting all about the sparring match, she felt her knees buckle and she curled her arms around her head, which softened the blow against it as she toppled to the floor.
The man’s voice reverberated through her head. This is going to be the most fun I’ve had in ages. Maybe you’ll have fun too. His voice warped into laughter befitting of a supervillain that had no end.
All at once, it stopped. Her limbs felt heavy and useless and her head spun in all directions. People were shouting, but her ears had a loud ringing in them that warped all sounds that tried to enter her ears.
“Ann,” she mumbled, her tongue refusing to work properly. “Oh god, Ann, I’m so sorry.” She wasn’t quite sure why she was talking, but her thoughts moved through molasses and it was too late to stop herself from speaking.
“Ann, hey,” someone’s voice said. Was it… Bree? “It’s gonna be okay. Dean is gonna take good care of you. You’re going to be okay.”
Archer thought she was responding directly after Bree spoke, but it was more like a few minutes later as her brain caught up. “What? Are you talking… about?”
Dean’s voice made it through her fog. “Can you hear me? If you can, move your fingers.” She tried to move her fingers, but she couldn’t feel her arms or legs at all.
“Wh- who are you?” Dean asked. Archer couldn’t tell who he was talking to, but her addled brain made her think he was talking to her at the time.
“I’m Ar….Ann. Ann. My name is… Ann,” she said at some point later.
“Don’t worry, Archer,” the man said.
“Get out of my head,” she replied, trying to blink open her eyes to make sure that his voice was all in her head, and he wasn’t standing above her, brandishing his gauntlets.
“Oh, no, don’t worry,” he repeated. “I’ve made some upgrades. Especially now that I realize that I totally forgot about Liminal and the whole pain-between-minds stuff. That should be fixed now, but I’ll have to swap you two back just for a bit to make sure it does work. You’ll get a reprieve for about a day, but then it’s back to the grind, I’m afraid.
“Oh, and I hope you’re wondering if I’m having fun. Because I sure am.” He chuckled. “Have fun in your real body, because it won’t be for long.”
A hand touched her forehead and the pain returned in full force.
She opened her eyes and leaped to her feet before she even realized where she was. Her fist struck a face and she used her other hand to press the person up against a wall. Her vision cleared after a group of familiar voices shouted at her, and she found Germaine before her, pressed to a wall. She took in a deep breath and stumbled back. She felt at her body. Her hair was longer, she was wearing a blouse and jeans, and everything was where she was used to.
“Oh my god,” she mumbled.
“Hey, woah,” Emma said. “Arch, you good?”
“I… I…” She turned around and stared at Emma. She rushed at her and wrapped her in an embrace. “Oh my god.”
“Well,” Germaine said. “I think she’s got her memories back.”
Archer pulled back. “Huh?” she asked.
“Your memories are back, right?” Emma asked, crossing her arms. “I mean you did punch the shit out of Germaine, so that’s a good sign.”
Archer blinked. Ann must’ve pretended to have amnesia in order to avoid arousing too much suspicion. Fear slammed into her throat. Ann was back in her body, knew the identities of the four major villains as well as the location of their hideout, and was likely surrounded by the League and had every opportunity to spill the beans.
“Holy shit, we gotta go,” Archer said, running off through the house and towards her suit. Emma chased after her.
“Woah, what’s going on?” Emma shouted.
“We have a major problem and we need to distract the heroes right now,” she replied.
“Are you sure? What kinda problem?”
Archer grabbed the edge of her chamber, where the Abattoir suit sat, untouched. “I’ll explain everything after this whole mess, but you’ve gotta trust me, because right now, we’re in a whole lot of trouble.” She undressed down to her underwear and started putting her suit on. “Get Drel in here, we need a plan ASAP.”
“Already got them,” Germaine said, dashing in with Drel at his heels. “What do we need to do?”
“We have to base everything on the assumption that we’re compromised, that the base, our identities, everything, is compromised and the League knows everything,” she said as she slipped on her undersuit. “So we do a major hit, all four of us. Drel, you do the bank, maybe a few hostages, and you’re stalling for time. Germaine, the downtown heroes museum, you’re focused on destruction and getting as much attention as possible.”
She paused as she pulled out her leather armor, then continued. “Em, you’ll do a hit at the energy plant. It’ll take longer to get there, obviously, so when you get there, it’s gotta be big, understand?”
“Yeah, okay,” Emma said, gesturing for the others to start putting on their suits. “What are you gonna do?”
Archer stopped moving and steadied herself with a deep breath. “I’m going for the League. There’s a certain electricity-themed hero I’ve gotta have a word with.”
“Stella?” Germaine asked. “Why her?”
“If we get out of this, I’ll tell you everything.” Archer grabbed her swords. “For now, I need Em to also scramble the servers and send everything to our backup. If we buy enough time, we can bring everything else over in the aftermath.” She grabbed her helmet and looked at it. “God,” she hissed. “How could it come to this?”
Emma, already in her suit, wrapped an arm around Archer. “It’ll be okay. We’re in this together. Go to the HQ, we’ll go terrorize the city.”
“Thanks,” she said, wrapping Emma in another hug. She fought the tears that rose to her eyes, then wiped them with a leather-bound arm as she pulled away. “Good luck. Afterwards, meet at the backup.” She nodded at Germaine and Drel, who were also dressed up, then ran outside.
She slid into her car, tossed her helmet and swords into the passenger side and sped off as soon as the car turned on. She had to get downtown as soon as possible and stop Ann from spilling everything. It took all of her effort not to break into tears. She knew that Ann’s morals would supersede keeping her girlfriend’s secrets. She wouldn’t be able to keep it even if she thought she would, and Archer knew it. She just had to hope that she could get close to Ann before that happened and talk some sense into her.
She pulled into the parking lot and scrambled out of her car, her swords and helmet in her arms as she did so. She slammed the door shut with her foot and strapped on her swords and slipped her helmet on before running out and towards the League HQ.
People screamed at the sight of her, diving out of the way as she charged right through them. She jumped up, glad to have her own body’s muscle memory back, and climbed the statue of Impulse, who was the most famous League member, who supposedly had the power to manipulate reality to a certain extent, up until he died of a mysterious illness. Now, there was a convenient place to stand imposingly in front of the HQ. Making sure her voice changer was on, and activating the speaker, she looked up at the floor she figured the heroes were on.
“Yo, heroes!” she called out. “Let’s talk, you and I.”
Her words echoed across the building. She couldn’t spot any movement inside. “Yoo hoo, Visionary? Torchy? Liminal? Stella!” She shouted the last name at the top of her lungs. “You really gonna keep me waiting out here like this? It’s very rude, you know!”
Nothing. She fingered the hilt of one of her swords in worry. If they weren’t in the HQ, then they might already be on their way to ripping apart the hideout. She swore under her breath, although it was picked up by the speakers and was more like a shout. She turned off the speaker and launched herself off of the statue. She tucked into a roll and charged into the building. Her shoulder made contact with the glass and it shattered around her.
She stumbled into the lobby and made eye contact with the trembling receptionist. She stomped up and reached over the counter, grabbing his collar with one hand and pulled him until he was inches away from her face.
“Where the hell are the heroes?” she growled.
The receptionist, in his fright, could only get mumbles and stutters out. Archer tightened her grip on his collar.
“Tell me where they are. And don’t stutter,” she said.
“I-I don’t know,” he stammered. “T-they should b-be on the t-tenth floor.” he pointed towards the elevators. Archer threw him back into his chair, though the force caused him to topple over backwards. She glanced over to the elevators and instead opted for the stairs. She charged up them two at a time, not stopping until she made it all the way to the tenth floor. At the top, she caught her breath and was glad she was in her own body, with her insane amount of endurance. She threw the door open and recognized the hallway. She’d been here in Ann’s body.
Retracing the steps she took earlier that day, she entered the room where she’d woken up by kicking the door in.
On the ground was Dean, who was lying in a pool of blood, his throat ripped out. The bed was empty.
“Oh, shit,” she said. After she’d entered that strange fugue state, the man had come in here and swapped her back, although she realized that he swapped her back without touching both her and Ann’s head. However, he’d come in while Dean was here, and the poor doctor had paid the price.
More importantly, Ann was gone.
Archer slammed her fist into the wall, imprinting a fist-sized hole in the drywall. She turned around at the sound of feet pounding on the floor. One of the lesser heroes, a teenager by the look of him, charged towards her. He must’ve been the new recruit, and although he ran straight for her, she could see the fear in his eyes. She pulled out one of her swords, the familiar weight helping to stabilize her.
She stood her ground, knowing that the longer she stayed here, the more likely it was that Ann revealed everything.