Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Karen was a child, she was terrified of her portals. They were spontaneous, scary, liable to hurt her—or, even more likely, hurt someone else, which was worse. When she felt that tingle in her fingers, she clenched them tight enough to hurt, on impulse more than anything else, because the clenching didn’t actually help. Her fingernails might dig into her palms, leaving half-moon cuts, but the portal would form just the same, with or without her approval.

Nowadays, things were different. She was in control. She was Voyd.

And she was quickly becoming adventurous.

Voyd’s friends had sparked that new side of her. Being around people who had powers like herself, people who weren’t ashamed of those powers - it was weird and scary and awesome, like an intoxicant in her veins, something purely different and new after decades of hiding. Her friends were a godsend. And they made her want to show off.

Right now, they were standing on the top of the Simon J. Paladino Center for Superheroes, a stately building on top of a huge hill, high enough to overlook the rest of New Urbem. Though Voyd and her friends had a well-equipped gym inside the building where they could practice, they often practiced on top of the building, too. The roof of the SJP was flat, open-air, perfect for when they felt like feeling the wind in their faces. Perfect for times when they didn’t feel like hiding anymore.

Which, after fifteen years of it, they very much didn’t.  

Voyd stood on the edge, wind in her face, fine strands of aquamarine hair whipping around. She gulped. New Urbem sprawled below her, mirror-like.

“I, uh, think I’m gonna back out,” she said, trying to sound peppy.

“Come on. You can do it.” This came from He-Lectrix, who was standing to her right with an amused look on his face and a hand on his hip.

“I don’t wanna,” she said, annoyed at how she sounded like a whiny child. 

“Come on,” he repeated. “You only live once, right?”

“Yeah, and some of us actually wanna stay that way!” she argued, turning her head to the side so she didn’t have to look at the monumental drop.

“Is only fair, Voyd,” came the slow, calm voice of Brick from behind her. “We all show our powers today. You, too.”

It was true. Brick had pulverized a concrete block into rubble. (And then another, and then another. The detritus was still lying around. It was pretty darn impressive.) Screech had swooped around, making daring dives, where Voyd swore that the hair (feathers?) on top of his head brushed the ground. Krushauer had crushed a metal wrench into a ball of what looked like tinfoil, and then another, and then another, while the rest of the team whooped and egged him on. Reflux had belched a gush of molten lava, and He-Lectrix had lifted his hands to the sky and sent a blast of electricity into the clouds, like lightning in reverse. There was something delicious about it: the freedom to do as they wanted, to not have to hide anymore, and they felt drunk with it, or at least, Voyd had. 

They’d all shown their powers. All but Voyd.

“You’re right,” she said timidly, “but… not like this. Can’t we send, I dunno, a dummy? And not an actual person? I’m just scared.”

“She doesn’t want to do it,” said Krushauer. “Come on. Stop pestering her.”

The thought burst in her, unwanted: her friends thinking she was a coward. “No!” she cried, a little louder than she’d intended. “I’ll do it. Just… give me a second.”

He-Lectrix grinned. “That’s the spirit.”

She psyched herself up. Closing her eyes, breathing out hard, lifting her hands and lowering them again. She tried to shove all fear away, and then she opened her eyes and said, “I’m gonna do it.”

“Alright,” said He-Lectrix, smiling in that easy way of his. “Let’s go then.”

And he threw himself off the building.

Despite the fact that she’d been (she thought, at least) well-prepared for this, Voyd’s stomach still dropped to her feet, and for a moment she was paralyzed, just leaning over the edge and watching him fall, becoming a smaller and smaller blue smear against the grassy hill and buildings below. The others ran to her side, peering over the side of the building too, watching their friend descend. “Cripes!” said Reflux admiringly, but Voyd barely heard him. 

After what seemed like eons, the moment broke and she lifted her hands, her heart in her throat, praying her aim would be good, because sometimes it wasn’t, oh god, what if it wasn’t. 

A portal formed, blue and glowing, her stomach boiling with terror, and He-Lectrix was swallowed just before he hit the ground. As he’d asked her.

He emerged nearby on the roof, landing in a sort of awkward crouch and breathing hard. “Jesus,” he said, “that was intense.”

You’re telling me, Voyd would’ve said, if she’d had any breath to speak. There was a rush of cold adrenaline causing her to feel like she’d just run a race (and won by half a foot), and there was something undeniably sweet about that, but still, almost killing her friend wasn’t Voyd’s idea of an adventure.

He-Lectrix rose to his feet and grinned and said, “Up for round two?”

“No,” she said firmly, and that was that.