Zero Shift: Second Gear: A Superhero Academy LitRPG, page 7
As we emerged into the bright morning sunlight, I couldn’t help but agree. The British Academy was beautiful, prestigious, and utterly terrifying.
And we were trapped here for five more weeks.
[SURVIVAL PROTOCOL: Activated. Trust no one. Question everything. Prepare for the worst.]
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Lamb and Flag was exactly what you’d expect from a traditional British pub – dark wood paneling that had absorbed decades of cigarette smoke, brass fixtures that hadn’t been polished since the Victorian era, and the kind of atmosphere that made you want to drink heavily just to fit in.
“This place smells like death,” Jason said, sliding into a booth that creaked ominously under his weight.
“That’s just British charm,” DuskRunner said, but even he looked uncomfortable.
We’d needed to get out of the Academy after the collar test. The memory of those foreign thoughts in my head, of Obsidian Coil and the voice of Cataclysm, had left all of us on edge. Dr. Farnsworth had suggested we experience “authentic British culture,” and DuskRunner had recommended the pub.
[STRESS LEVELS: Elevated across all team members. Recommend alcohol consumption in moderation. Environmental scan: Multiple enhanced individuals detected in vicinity.]
“What do you recommend?” Sophia asked, studying the menu with the expression of someone trying to decode hieroglyphics.
“The fish and chips are... edible,” DuskRunner said diplomatically.
“That’s a ringing endorsement,” Amara muttered.
The pub was crowded with locals and a few Academy students scattered throughout. A burst of laughter erupted from the bar, drawing my attention to a tall, impeccably dressed figure holding court among a cluster of admirers.
“Who’s the peacock?” Jason asked, following my gaze.
“Captain Posh,” DuskRunner said with barely concealed distaste. “Real name’s Archibald Worthington-Smythe the Third, but everyone calls him Captain Posh. He’s in the advanced program.”
“Let me guess,” Amara said dryly. “Old money?”
“Old money, old power, old bloodline,” DuskRunner confirmed. “His family’s been producing supers since the Victorian era. His great-great-grandfather was one of the Empire’s original ‘gentleman adventurers.’ You know, the ones who colonized half the world and called it ‘bringing civilization.’”
The man in question was everything his nickname suggested – perfectly coiffed blonde hair, a uniform that looked tailored on Savile Row, and the kind of casual arrogance that came from never hearing the word ‘no.’ He was regaling his audience with some story, gesturing with his pint glass in a way that somehow made even drinking beer look aristocratic.
“What’s his power?” Sophia asked.
“Telekinesis, primarily,” DuskRunner said. “But refined to an absurd degree. He can manipulate objects with the precision of a master watchmaker. Also has enhanced reflexes and some kind of tactical processing ability. Makes him bloody brilliant in a fight, which unfortunately means he has the skill to back up the ego.”
As if on cue, Captain Posh caught my eye and raised his pint in a mocking salute, his perfectly white smile not reaching his cold blue eyes.
“Ignore him,” Rey said, her hand subtly moving to rest on the table between us and the bar. “We have bigger problems than his ego.”
She was right. The collar test had revealed something that none of us wanted to think about – the possibility that the British Academy had created the very monster that was terrorizing Europe.
“Evening, Americans.”
I looked up to see two girls approaching our table. One had purple hair, multiple piercings, and was wearing the Academy uniform like it was a costume she’d been forced into. The other was pale and ethereal, with long black hair and the kind of beauty that made you forget what you were saying.
[ENHANCED INDIVIDUALS DETECTED: Two females approaching. Power signatures unclear but significant. Recommend cautious engagement.]
“I’m Hera,” the purple-haired girl said, sliding into the booth without invitation. “And this is Nocturna. We heard about your little adventure in the testing facility today.”
“Word travels fast,” Rey said carefully.
“Everything travels fast in a place like the Academy,” Nocturna said, her voice soft but carrying an edge. “Especially when it involves power surges that shut down half the building.”
“You felt that?” I asked.
“Everyone with abilities felt it,” Hera said. “Like a wave of... nothing. It was terrifying and fascinating at the same time.”
[INTELLIGENCE GATHERED: Power surge affected entire Academy. Enhanced individuals experienced temporary suppression. Recommend discretion regarding collar capabilities.]
“We wanted to thank you,” Nocturna said, focusing on me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable.
“Thank me for what?”
“For showing us what real power looks like. Most of us have been playing by their rules for so long, we forgot what it felt like to be truly free.”
“I wasn’t trying to make a statement,” I said. “I was trying not to lose my mind.”
“Sometimes those are the same thing,” Hera said with a wicked grin.
The conversation was interrupted by a commotion at the bar. The TV in the corner was showing news footage from Rome – the same twisted metal sculptures, the same emergency responders in hazmat suits.
“Turn that shit off,” someone called from across the pub. “I’m sick of hearing about those powered freaks.”
The room went quiet. Every enhanced individual in the place – and there were more than I’d initially realized – turned to look at the speaker. He was a middle-aged man in a work shirt, clearly drunk and clearly not enhanced.
“That’s right,” he continued, emboldened by the attention. “Bloody wankers tearing up Europe, and what do we do? We invite more of them into our schools, our communities. It’s madness.”
[THREAT ASSESSMENT: Hostile civilian expressing anti-enhanced sentiment. Multiple enhanced individuals showing elevated stress responses. Situation volatile.]
“Maybe you should keep your opinions to yourself,” DuskRunner said quietly.
“Or what? You’ll use your freaky powers on me? Prove my point?”
“No,” said a cold voice from the bar. “I’ll prove mine.”
Captain Posh had stood up, his face flushed with alcohol and anger. “You want to see what powered freaks can do?”
“Captain,” DuskRunner warned. “Don’t.”
But it was too late. Captain Posh moved with enhanced speed, crossing the room in a blur. His fist connected with the drunk man’s face with a sound like a gunshot, sending him flying across the room to crash into a table.
The man hit the floor and didn’t get up. Blood pooled beneath his head.
“There,” Captain Posh said, flexing his knuckles. “That’s what we can do.”
The pub erupted in chaos. People screamed, chairs overturned, and someone was calling for an ambulance. But I was already moving, my nullification field expanding to encompass Captain Posh.
His enhanced strength vanished instantly, and when I grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him against the wall, he was just another drunk asshole.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snarled.
“He was asking for it,” Captain Posh said, but his confidence was gone now that his powers were suppressed.
“He was drunk and stupid. That doesn’t give you the right to nearly kill him.”
[MORAL COMPASS: Activated. Power usage guided by ethical framework. Nullification field responding to protective intent rather than aggressive application.]
“Let me go,” Captain Posh demanded.
“Gladly.” I released him and stepped back, but kept my nullification field active. “Stay away from us. All of us.”
Captain Posh looked around the room, taking in the horrified faces of the other patrons, the blood on the floor, the sirens approaching in the distance. For a moment, I thought he might apologize, might show some remorse for what he’d done.
Instead, he straightened his jacket and walked out of the pub like nothing had happened.
“Jesus Christ,” Jason breathed.
“Is he dead?” Amara asked, looking at the unconscious man. “Please tell me he’s not dead.”
“No,” Nocturna said, kneeling beside him. “But he’s badly hurt. Concussion, probably. Maybe worse.”
[MEDICAL ANALYSIS: Victim showing signs of severe head trauma. Recommend immediate medical attention. Captain Posh’s actions constitute assault with enhanced abilities - serious criminal offense.]
“We need to get out of here,” DuskRunner said. “Before the police arrive.”
“We can’t just leave him,” Sophia protested.
“The ambulance is coming,” Hera said. “There’s nothing more we can do for him.”
She was right, but it felt wrong to just walk away. The man had been an asshole, but he hadn’t deserved to be nearly beaten to death for expressing his opinions.
“This is exactly what they’re afraid of,” Rey said quietly as we made our way toward the exit. “This is why they want to control us.”
“Captain Posh doesn’t represent all of us,” I said.
“Doesn’t matter. To them, we’re all the same. All potential threats.”
[SOCIAL ANALYSIS: Anti-enhanced sentiment likely to increase following incident. Captain Posh’s actions reinforce negative stereotypes. Recommend maintaining low profile.]
We made it outside just as the ambulance arrived, its blue lights painting the street in harsh, flickering shadows. The paramedics rushed inside while we stood on the sidewalk, trying to process what had just happened.
“I’m sorry,” DuskRunner said. “I should have stopped him.”
“How?” Hera asked. “Captain Posh has been looking for an excuse to hurt someone for months. If it hadn’t been tonight, it would have been tomorrow.”
“That doesn’t make it right,” Nocturna said. “What he did was monstrous.”
“But not surprising,” Hera added. “The Academy breeds that kind of arrogance. They tell us we’re special, that we’re better than normal people, and some of us start to believe it.”
[PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Hera displays anti-establishment tendencies but strong moral compass. Nocturna shows empathy and ethical awareness. Both potential allies against Academy authority structure.]
“Not all of us,” I said.
“No,” Nocturna agreed, looking at me with something that might have been admiration. “Not all of us.”
“What you did in there,” Hera said. “Standing up to Captain Posh, using your powers to protect instead of harm – that’s what enhanced individuals should be.”
“I just did what felt right.”
“Exactly. You didn’t think about Academy politics or social hierarchies or any of that bullshit. You saw someone being hurt and you stopped it.”
[ALLIANCE OPPORTUNITY: Hera and Nocturna showing strong alignment with team values. Recommend building relationships for intelligence gathering and mutual support.]
“We should go,” DuskRunner said, glancing nervously at the police cars that were starting to arrive. “Questions will be asked, and it’s better if we’re not here to answer them.”
“Where?” Rey asked.
“I know a place,” Hera said with a mischievous grin. “Somewhere we can talk freely without worrying about Academy surveillance or proper behavior.”
“What kind of place?” Sophia asked suspiciously.
“The kind where enhanced individuals can be themselves without fear of judgment or control.”
Nocturna nodded. “It’s... liberating.”
[INTELLIGENCE OPPORTUNITY: Underground enhanced individual network detected. Potential source of information about Academy operations and anti-establishment activities.]
I looked around at my friends, at the chaos we were leaving behind, at the two British girls who were offering us a glimpse into a world we’d never seen.
After the collar test, after the memories of Obsidian Coil’s rage and pain, after watching Captain Posh nearly kill a man for expressing his opinions, I needed to see something different. Something that reminded me why our abilities were gifts instead of curses.
“Lead the way,” I said.
Hera’s grin widened. “Now you’re talking.”
As we walked away from the flashing lights and sirens, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were crossing another line. First the collar test, now this underground world that Hera and Nocturna were leading us toward.
But maybe crossing lines was exactly what we needed to do. Maybe the only way to understand what we were really dealing with was to step outside the boundaries that others had set for us.
[MISSION PARAMETERS UPDATED: Intelligence gathering expanded to include underground enhanced individual networks. Caution advised - unknown territory with unknown risks.]
The night was just getting started, and I had a feeling it was going to change everything.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The entrance to the club was hidden behind a fish and chips shop that looked like it hadn’t been updated since the 1970s. Hera led us through the back alley, past dumpsters that reeked of beer and old grease, to a door that didn’t look like it led anywhere special.
“This is it?” Jason asked, looking skeptical.
“Trust me,” Hera said, pressing her hand against what looked like a normal door handle. There was a brief flash of purple light, and I heard the distinct sound of electronic locks disengaging.
“Electromagnetic manipulation,” she explained with a grin. “Useful for more than just turning uniforms pink.”
[ENHANCED SECURITY DETECTED: Multiple biometric and electronic locks bypassed. Hera’s abilities more sophisticated than initially assessed.]
The door opened to reveal a narrow staircase descending into darkness. Music drifted up from below – not the polite classical stuff they played at Academy functions, but something with a heavy bass line that I could feel in my chest.
“Welcome to the real world,” Nocturna said, her pale skin seeming to glow in the dim light.
We followed them down three flights of stairs, through a corridor lined with what looked like medieval stone, and finally through another door that opened into something I’d never seen before.
The club was massive, carved out of what must have been natural caves beneath the city. The ceiling disappeared into shadows, and the walls were rough stone lit by floating orbs of various colors. But it wasn’t the architecture that took my breath away – it was the people.
Enhanced individuals everywhere, using their abilities openly, freely, without fear or shame. A woman with fire powers was juggling balls of flame while her friends cheered. A guy who could manipulate gravity was dancing on the ceiling. Someone with plant abilities had grown a living bar that served drinks from flower-shaped cups.
“Holy shit,” Amara breathed.
“Language, dear,” Nocturna said with a smile. “But yes, it’s quite something, isn’t it?”
[ENVIRONMENTAL ANALYSIS: Approximately 200 enhanced individuals detected. Power usage unrestricted. No surveillance equipment detected. Recommend maintaining defensive awareness despite apparent safety.]
“How is this place not shut down?” Rey asked.
“Because officially, it doesn’t exist,” Hera said. “And the people who know about it understand that sometimes we need a place to be ourselves.”
“The Academy knows?” Sophia asked.
“Some of the faculty do. Dr. Farnsworth certainly does. But they also know that trying to shut it down would cause more problems than it would solve.”
The music was intoxicating, the bass line syncing with my heartbeat. Around us, enhanced individuals were celebrating their abilities in ways I’d never imagined. It was beautiful and terrifying and completely liberating.
“Drinks?” Nocturna asked, leading us toward the living bar.
“What do they serve?” Madeline asked.
“Whatever you want. The bar responds to your desires.”
She wasn’t kidding. When I approached, a flower bloomed and offered me something that tasted like whiskey but went down smoother than anything I’d ever had. Amara got something that sparkled and changed colors as she drank it.
“This is incredible,” she said, moving closer to me. The music, the atmosphere, the freedom of the place – it was all affecting her. Hell, it was affecting all of us.
[ATMOSPHERIC ANALYSIS: Enhanced pheromone levels detected. Music frequency designed to lower inhibitions. Recommend maintaining awareness of environmental influences on behavior.]
“Dance with me?” Amara asked, taking my hand.
The dance floor was a writhing mass of bodies and abilities. People were using their powers as part of their dancing – teleporters appearing and disappearing in rhythm with the music, someone with duplication abilities creating a chorus line of themselves, a couple with complementary abilities creating light shows that pulsed with the beat.
Amara pulled me into the crowd, her body moving against mine in ways that made my pulse quicken. She was wearing a dress that hugged her curves, and when she turned around and pressed her back against my chest, I could smell her perfume mixed with the exotic scents of the underground club.
“This place is amazing,” she said, her voice barely audible over the music.
“Yeah,” I said, my hands finding her waist. “It is.”
She turned in my arms, looking up at me with eyes that were dark with want. “I brought something,” she said, reaching into her small purse.
“What?”
She pulled out one of the silk ties from her “recreational supplies” – the same ones that had gotten her the special TSA screening. “I thought... maybe we could find somewhere private?”
[AROUSAL DETECTED: Elevated heart rate, dilated pupils, increased skin temperature. Environmental factors contributing to heightened sexual desire. Recommend finding private location for intimate encounter.]
