Super Jaded 2 - Chapter 3 (Patreon)

Chapter 3: Loken

“Are you sure this is the place?” Anya questioned, gesturing confusedly at the corporate-standardized Waffle House that laid before them. “The emailed coordinates I got seem to point here, but like… I wouldn’t call this a cafe.”

“Either way, I’m starving,” Iris said, not waiting for Anya as she walked towards the front door and left the smaller girl to pick up the pace once more. Once inside, both women’s attentions were instantly drawn to an overly suspicious individual sitting alone at a window booth for four people. They appeared to be a person of privacy, as their attire concealed so much that neither Anya or Iris could make heads or tails of their hair color or gender orientation.

On pure assumption, Anya and Iris piled into the opposing booth, “So, uh, I thought we weren’t supposed to draw attention to ourselves,” remarked the shorter blonde.

“I’m not. I’m remarkably mundane in my conspicuousness,” the person replied, their delivery entirely deadpan, not too masculine or not too feminine.

“Oh yeah, because the hoodie, the mask, the ball cap that literally says ‘local sports team’ on it and the dark-tinted aviators aren’t raising any red flags. Why don’t you just drive around in an unmarked black van while you’re at it?” Anya replied, still unconvinced.

“It’s cold out, SARS wasn’t that long ago, and maybe I’m just looking for something to root for in my intolerably bland life? ...Also the aviators are a prescription,” they said without missing a beat. “If you must know, I look perfectly unassuming from the ground, even more so from the watchful eyes that now take to the skies.”

“You’re not concerned about regular people that might be sympathetic to the supers’ cause?” Anya wondered aloud, looking for some flaw in the mystery person’s apparently-iron-clad reasoning. “I feel like there’s no other benefit to you looking like Baby’s First Fed.”

“And yet, you two managed to find me without ever seeing my face or walking around like fools looking for someone who might fit an imagined description of me,” they said, their body unwavering in its uncomfortable stillness. “I’d say my attire performs its purpose perfectly.”

“So that confirms it then, you’re the guy we’re looking for,” Iris spoke up, eager to move towards more meaningful conversation.

“Like many things about me, my gender is classified. But yes, I am the person from the phone, as it were.”

“Well, I’m Anya. The woman from the forum!” throwing out her hand in anticipation of a proper shake.”

“Iris,” said the other woman without much fanfare.

“Dr. Loken. Charmed,” the mystery person responded, gripping both Anya and Iris with equally firm handshakes. “So glad the two of you could join me at this fine dining establishment on such short notice. We have much to discuss.”

Iris peeped up again, addressing the apparent elephant in the room. “Alright, I’m just going to say it. A Waffle House isn’t exactly my idea of a cafe or a fine establishment, it's basically a Fight Club with carbs."

“Do you have a problem with the chosen location?” Loken inquired, appearing willing to compromise.

“Oh no, I like that about Waffle House. Good choice.”

“Excellent. And Anya, was it? Do you have any qualms about this place?”

“Uh, yeah, they’re taking forever to take our order, carajo! We don’t even have menus at the table!” Anya complained, her voice ascending in volume as she grew antsy. A solitary, silent hand from Iris on her shoulder quieted her down and had the unintended effect of putting a blatantly obvious blush on her face.

“The food will arrive once business has been thoroughly conducted. My apologies if you have not eaten prior.”

Under her breath, Anya mumbled something along the lines of “if we were supposed to eat before we came, why was the meetup in a restaurant?”

Loken laced their fingers together, then set their elbows on the table and leaned in, "You two are the most prolific posters on your forum, it is safe to say that you are interested in Nina Etana and Fern Chang more than even the average individual of your specific backgrounds and proclivities. Are either of you versed in sign language? It is fine if you aren't, but curious ears often hear that which is spoken aloud." Their expression remained inscrutable from behind their somewhat garish ensemble, and their voice remained low enough that it took conscious effort for Anya and Iris to hear, "My background is such that I have learned quite a bit about the two of them, and unlike most I feel as though you may actually be able to put that information to use. All I need is—”

“What’s going on in here, fellas?” spoke a hauntingly familiar voice, though one the trio had not heard outside of news reports and on-the-ground footage with less-than-happy endings.

Anya and Iris’ blood went to ice, colder than the last man unfortunate enough to be caught off-guard by those words. Loken’s body remained as unreadable as ever. Everyone else in the Waffle House lept from their seats in horror, running to the other side of the establishment as fast as their human instincts could carry them, save for the waitress who continued to casually place plates at the now-empty tables.

Despite being only inches away from the ground, Fern and Nina floated above the meager authority of Gravity that everyone else had to obey. If they could possibly seem more imposing than they already were, they did. Not even nudity seemed to diminish their fear factor. Their bare, chiseled forms rivaled those of Greek tapestries, as did their deific propensity for violence.

“Yeah, we heard you mention our names, something we ought to know about?” Nina asked, a mile-wide grin on her face that lay bare her intentions to execute these ants for daring to utter the names of their gods—as if there were ever a time when her intentions weren’t exactly that. She ripped the table of the booth out from its inch-thick bolts with a single hand before casually tossing it over her shoulder. Iris and Anya screamed in horror, scrunching up into little human balls on their booth to get as far away from where the table once was. Loken seemed unphased judging at least by their lack of movements.

“Oh, I believe you two are present in the news rather often, the chances of encountering you in the flesh are near-certain given enough time. Some would argue you have become the new status quo of the Earth,” Loken replied calmly, as if they had rehearsed the sentence so many times it was second nature to them. “I believe it is hard to go a day without mentioning your names.” Even Fern was surprised by how unfrightened the covered-up person’s tone was, but she did respect the fit. Loken’s outfit reminded the tanned supergoddess of a time not incredibly long ago where she was a protestor herself. Fern could tell Nina was raring to rip that suspicious mask off of their face, but she—aware or otherwise—opted for a less threatening method of interrogation.

“Yeah, see, I’d almost buy that…” Fern began, a hint of pompousness peering through her tone. “...but I find myself particularly intrigued by the mention of your background, care to elaborate on that? I believe I cut you off mid-sentence. Very sorry about that.”

“Ah, yes… Well, I believe the cat’s out of the bag now. No use lying to you good people any longer,” Loken gestured towards Iris and Anya. “Yes, I was simply attempting to give these people a sense of hope in dire times. Surely, you two can agree that the morale of the average human has been quite low in recent years. You see, these two are very prolific attendants of an online forum known as ‘Eternals’ End,’ where disgruntled layabouts complain about the state of the world after you two had undoubtedly conquered it. You could say I’m scamming these individuals, but I would say it’s hard enough to make money as it is.”

Loken spoke so confidently that Iris and Anya weren’t sure if this was a cover story or the actual truth. Fern wasn’t sure what to believe, her brain entering a pause. Were it not for Nina’s unwavering conviction—she had already made up her mind two minutes ago about where this was headed—Fern might’ve wondered just how fucked up she had left this world.

“Well, Fern, you know what to do. Hit ‘em with the lie eye!” Nina said like a true hypewoman. Fern did as instructed, using her thought-invading capabilities to break the one place where many would consider their desires and intentions safe.

First was Anya, the most obviously nervous of the three. “Oh god oh god oh god don’t hurt me don’t hurt me don’t hurt me but if she has to I hope it’s with her breasts god those knockers could crush my head like a watermelon.”

Pretty typical stuff, too nervous and horny to reveal any insight. 

Fern moved her attention to Iris, steeling her gaze. The taller woman was doing her best to seem composed despite how lighting-fast her heart was racing. “Hot. Hot. Hot. Hot. Hot. Why did the hottest lesbian on the planet have to kill my mom?”

Again, pretty typical stuff. It did sadden Fern to hear that she was apparently responsible for inadvertently killing this woman’s parental figure, but such was life now. Fern could spend her whole infinite life making amends for these unfortunate atrocities once 

“Ugghhhh, I guess we’ll just have to torture them until they tell us what we want to hear.”

“Nina! We can’t do that!” Fern countered, proving surprisingly reasonable to the frightened mortals before her—and Dr. Loken was also there. “Remember, torture most of the time doesn’t actually extract any additional information. We’d just be harming them for no reason.”

Nina looked almost sullen at the denial, but she loved her girlfriend too much to fight back on a losing battle like she often did. “Fair enough. I still think we should keep checking their minds until—”

“Hey Nina, did you just hear that?” Fern suddenly spoke with bated breath, perking up at something only her ears could detect.

“Hmm? What are you—holy shit. I did. And again. Oh shit, it’s definitely him. I’m sorry Fern, but we gotta put your mother’s visit on hold for this one, we’ve been searching for him for like, forever!”

“Way ahead of you, the longer we delay, the better of a chance he has to escape again.”

In an instant, Fern flew away from the scene, with Nina in tow. They didn’t bother using the door, so the Waffle House found itself with a new skylight.

“Great, that’s the second time we’ve had a super-related incident at this place,” spoke the tired waitress from behind the bar counter. She didn’t even seem phased by debris landing a mere foot away from where she stood. “Sorry everyone, Waffle House is now closed until further notice. Not because of the damage, just because I need a fuckin’ break.”

“I believe that is our cue to take a leave,” the doctor remarked, the second notable person to appear unphased by what had just occurred. Loken’s fingers then rapidly-fired on the clamshell phone they were using earlier, never inputting a single typo even when limited to just ten buttons.

Anya’s phone chimed with a text message, which she and Iris both paused to read.

“Still too red-hot to talk. Commit to text for now. I bought us an out, but I can only do that so many times. Follow me and keep quiet if you value your lives and your futures.”

“U got them off our trail!? But how!?” Anya shot a text in response.

“I’m good at making people disappear if needed. I’m also not above making people reappear if the situation becomes dire enough. It’s amazing how loud people will scream when the door to their sound-proofed bunker suddenly opens up. You think that’s the last thing anyone would want to do, but I suppose billionaires didn’t make their money by being smart.”

Anya and Iris didn’t respond immediately. They were baffled—half at the revelation of Loken’s influence and half at the speed at which the doctor typed.

“While our two superfriends were squabbling about the effectiveness of torture, I activated a remote spark from my phone which unlocked the bunker door,” the doctor further clarified in a follow-up text. 

“Shitshitshitshit, now what? U think theyll come back? THat could only hold them for so long. I feel like they werent done interogsutbg —she meant to write ‘interrogating’— us!” Anya once again responded with shaking fingers, her pace picking up though it anxiously lagged behind Loken’s casual gait.

“Follow me, act normal amongst the clutter and they won’t find us. That I can assure you.” Loken replied.

Anya began typing, but she didn’t send what she had written to Loken. Instead, she handed it off to Iris, intending it for the green-tipped brunette’s eyes only. “Are u sure we can trust this person?”

Iris scooped up a napkin and a pen from the waiter’s podium, holding it flat in the palm of her hand as she scribbled down a quick sentence. “I DON’T THINK WE HAVE MUCH OF A CHOICE.”

The three mortals continued their vow of silence as they trekked through unpathed woods for what felt like an hour. Anya’s face then twisted in benign disgust as her eyes fell upon what could generously be described as an escape vehicle.

The blonde’s fingers texted faster than they ever had in her entire life. “I wouldn’t expect such a big shot government person like u with all these connections and interpersonal relationships and backup plans to drive such a lame ass car.”

Loken’s response was faster. “What’s wrong with a white Honda Accord?”

Anya began to type a retort, but the phone was snatched out of her hands a quarter of the way through by Iris. The taller woman then typed “your texting privileges have been revoked,” into the texting bar before deleting it and shoving the phone in her pocket.

More silence as the three packed into the car and drove away, deeper into the forest. Loken proved to be an amazing texter even while driving one-handed. “Three hours until we get there. We will stop for snacks and bathroom breaks if need be. I will explain everything once we arrive.”

“I’m still not sure if this is a good idea.” Anya wrote on her hand with the pen that she had managed to sneak from Iris’ pocket, showing Iris and no one else as they sat in the back seat together.

Iris took the pen, but instead of revoking privileges she used it to write another simple sentence down, this time on her own palm. “WHAT MORE DO WE REALLY HAVE TO LOSE?”