The red light on the camera the flying, trembling man was holding faded and died.

Over a motionless maroon body, the Black Death stepped towards her.

“Jane,” he murmured. Then a pause. “I’d hoped it wouldn’t be like this. That when we finally met, it would be different.” He shook his head. “But the world is so. Now you know the truth.”

Jane sucked in a wet, retching breath. “I’ll kill you,” she whispered. She promised. She pushed to her feet, her hands clenched, her arms shaking.

“Stop,” the Black Death pleaded. He held out his hand. “Think.” He motioned to the broken buildings, the bodies, the smouldering ruins of the Legion of Heroes. “Don’t be like this. Don’t be like them. Don’t throw your life away.”

“Shut up!” shouted Jane, her chest heaving, her eyes blurred, “You’re a murderer! You’re a monster!”

“No Jane,” he implored, “I am necessary. I do what I must so that the good in this world might thrive. Please see that.”

“You’re evil!” she cried taking a jagged step forward, her teeth trembling, “You used me, you lied to me, you tricked me into… into…” She staggered to a stop, the horrible words, the betrayal, sticking in her chest.

The Black Death’s voice was soft. “I never lied to you Jane,” he said, “Yes, I wore another man’s face. But the words I spoke were always mine and I meant every one of them. This world wants to tear the great down, it needs strong people to forge a path… everything I told you was true.”

“Shut up,” she hissed, clenching her teeth, “Shut up shut up shut up!”

“They couldn’t accept it Jane,” the Black Death cried, pointing with a sweeping gesture at the dead around her, “But you can. You’ve seen it! The hatred, the injustice of this world! These people, this broken society that spits on you, when they should be worshipping you as a queen!” His voice stopped – a heartbeat’s pause. “My queen,” he added quietly, “If you would have it.”

For a second, the Earth fell away beneath her feet. Her stomach churned and her arms trembled, a feeling of corruption, unclean, spreading through her every bone. “You’re sick,” she hissed, “You’re insane.”

“You are perfect Jane,” he told her, his pale lips and dark eyes, “Everything my new world stands for. Beauty, ambition, strength... Do you think it was coincidence that you were sent to me? We are the chosen few, meant to rule this world. Imagine it – imagine what we could achieve together. Imagine what we could do. Imagine a world where empaths are not looked down upon but revered as the gods they are. No more waste, no more fear – no more suffering.” He reached out towards her. “I know you’re strong enough to see through the lies they’ve told you. Strong enough to see that this is your destiny. Come with me,” he pleaded, “And I can give you everything you ever wanted. Everything you rightfully deserve.”

And for one brief, delirious moment, Jane saw it.

A new world. Everyone who’d ever wronged her brought to justice. The people who’d hit her, mocked her, hated her for existing, tried at every step to tear her down. All of it, righted – all of them, punished. And not only them, not only justice, but beyond that she saw the future, the endless possibilities. Whatever she wanted – whatever she dreamt. The power to make changes, to force real good, to lead… She saw a sea of faces, a world of bettered people, looking up at her without hatred, only respect, only devotion, only fear…

All except one.

One single person, standing alone in the back. A woman’s face, black and white, gazing up at her softly. Lovingly – quietly. Sad.

My beautiful girl.

A memory. A picture on her wall. All she had left.

But worth a thousand worlds.

And in an instant, Jane’s heart throbbed painfully, seeding her body through with aching warmth, and the vision of conquest vanished – replaced by her mother’s eyes.

“Burn in hell,” she whispered, and in that instant, she attacked.

Her arms flew out and she launched towards him on jets of flame. A pillar of thunder erupted from her hands, faster than thought, in milliseconds, a searing storm screaming towards where he stood – but the Black Death was gone, vanished into thin air.

“Jane,” he said from behind her, “Please. Try to reconsider.”

She roared and slammed her fists into the ground, sending trunk-sized spikes of ice erupting through the street – and then before the Black Death could speak another word she clenched her arms, infusing them with lightning, exploding the ice out in every direction in a hail, an unstoppable shockwave of slicing shards. In every direction, no matter where he’d run or try to hide. The ice flew outwards, slamming into windows and walls.

“Jane,” came the Black Death’s voice, and Jane’s head snapped up to see him floating, his arms crossed, thirty feet above her, showing the soles of his boots. His face was a mask of disappointment – he sounded tired. “This is foolish.”

She shot upwards, her left fist full of lightning, her right full of flame – launching everything at him, around him, a cyclone of heat and death with the Black Death in the centre, cutting off his escape. Her face grew hot, her body burning, fire head to toe, a human rocket flying towards him, through the centre of her own assault. As his eyes narrowed and as she closed the gap between them, mere feet away, she forced everything she could muster, everything she had into the flames around her, supercharging the very air-

With a deafening ‘BOOM’, the barrier around Jane’s body exploded, erupting in a wall of fire and lightning, the air cracking and roaring under the pressure, the sudden drops and spikes in heat throwing a rippling wall of searing force out in every direction – inches away from her, from where the Black Death floated, trapped. The world spun before Jane’s eyes and she fell, spinning, thrown back by the sheer force of her own attack, but out of instinct, out of training she threw out her hands, stabilising herself in the air thirty feet above the ground, a steady jet of flame burning from her hands, holding her in place. Her head snapped back, panting, desperate, to where the Black Death had been, to where she’d exploded.

Nothing. Only empty space. For an instant – a hysterical, delirious instant – she thought she’d won.

And then he spoke. “Clever,” a voice said from behind her. Her eyes wide, Jane spun to see the Black Death, his arms by his side, traces of sulphur scattering to the breeze, twenty feet behind her. Alive and unharmed. Save for a small burn, the size of a dime, on the left-most corner of his cheek.

“I commend your effort,” he said quietly. He touched a black, gloved finger to his face, tracing over the mark, without a hint of pain or fear – only disconnection, as though the skin he touched was a distant source of interest rather than his own. Before his fingers fell, the damage was healed. The Black Death’s voice grew hard. “But that is enough.”

And then before she would blink, his hand was on her throat and his knee was in her guts. His fist slammed into her face, through her fire like it was nothing, hitting again and again and again and again in the space of a second with the force of a sledgehammer – too fast to see, too fast to stop.

In a single moment, everything she’d learnt, all her training – all of it became useless. The steel hand crushing her windpipe threw and Jane Walker fell, crumpled, tumbling into nothing, her thoughts fading and her face streaming blood, patches of light and dark flickering before her eyes. Down and down she fell, the fire faded from her palms, a sick, squelching ringing in her ears, face down, the wind whipping back her hair, as the earth rushed up to offer its final, breaking embrace-

But before she could hit, her fall halted – a smooth hand clenched firm around the back of her collar, jerking her to a halt. A loose sack of meat held inches from the ground.

Through delirium and pain, blackness encroaching on the edge of her vision, the hand pulled her effortlessly up, and a cold voice hissed in her ear, “Jane.”

Her eyes flickered, her swollen lips murmuring something indistinct. Her hands twitched limply by her side. “You’re not going to die Jane,” the twisting voice whispered, “I haven’t given up. You’re stubborn, but I know you’ll understand. I know you’ll see.”

There was a rush of darkness, an assault of pressure and sulphur, and then Jane felt her broken and bloodied body thrown loosely in the dirt. Her mind swam, delirious – but still, she forced herself to look up. To look at him, standing there staring down at her. Unscathed.

“Don’t resist me Jane,” he said quietly. He stood, his back to the city, his figure blotting out the sun, flooding her flickering consciousness with shadows. A being of pure darkness. “Don’t sacrifice your future – what we could have. Think about it while you lay here. Think about that I didn’t kill you when I could have, with a thought.” He glanced back at the city behind him. “Watch what’s about to happen. And think about what you want.”

Jane tremored and tried to rise – but the pain and darkness came crashing down. As she fell into unconsciousness, the Black Death turned and flew back towards Detroit.

*****

He landed, his boots tearing twin trails through the road.

“Apologies Poole,” he called out and the cameraman jumped, his eyes wild at the sound of his master’s voice, “Rude of me. Personal business.” The Black Death stopped and rolled his neck a full circle. “Resume broadcasting. And take to the air. You’ll want some distance for this.” His eyes flicked lazily upwards to where other filmers were now flying and news helicopters hovered, taking in the scene. “Ignore the competition,” he added, “They won’t interfere with our exclusive. Let them see.” The Black Death spread his palms against the ground as the cameraman flew hurriedly up. “Let them all see,” he murmured under his breath.

He inhaled, long and slow – then opened his eyes and pressed his arms down.

The ground split around him with a mighty, shuddering crack. Fissures raced from his hands, jagged lines opening across the earth and deep, deep underground. A web of cracks through rock and stone spread out underneath the city, breaking along every fault, every tectonic seam, until the entire city stood undermined, shaking yet still standing – as if for an endless, terrible second, it could only hold its breath-

Before the Black Death shifted and pulled the magma up from below.