"Go on, speak; you were running your mouth before." Frost said.
Dickens was on the chair, hands trembling—face hardened, words were hard to say, the hero in front of him smirking hard at him.
Vilex walked back in, his face bright; the call he just had gave a new clue to the crime.
Vilex said, facing Frost. "What did I miss?"
Frost replied. "Officer Sanchez here says the Captain asked he and his partner not to go to Tora-linkway, so I need Dickens to explain why he said that."
Vilex turned. "Chop chop, Dickens, cat got your tongue? Give the answer."
The fear shadowed Dickens clenched his trembling hands; he spoke, but a stutter came first. "I-i only told them that because. A pause from him, then he let out the latter words. Because I thought that, um, since it's an abandoned area, there's no need to cover it; it's just mere coincidence that he happened to be there at the time of the crime."
The green hoodie hero got up and walked straight at him. Head down at Dickens's eyes meeting, Vilex chuckled. "Mere coincidence? Well, I don't think it's a coincidence, but I'll let it go. He took a step back and said.
"Answer me this: why weren't your cameras working? Because you should have videos of them."
Dickens answered. "Our cameras are good. You keep talking about our cameras. What happened to yours? Can't you use yours to see the perpetrators?"
"You see, Captain Dickens, it's not like we can't use ours; we just need to know why yours, which is in the area, didn't work."
Dickens gave no response; all he did was just stare at Vilex and speak to himself:
This damned hero—what's his deal? The cameras should be working.
Frost called to an officer, saying. "Will you pull up the camera feed for Tora-linkway?"
The officer was hesitant; she didn't do it, but the cold stare she got from Frost brought to her reasoning who is superior and who is inferior.
She turned to her computer; as she worked, she noticed something strange she had to voice out. "From what I'm seeing… the internal cameras have been tampered with. And this isn't some outside interference—I would've detected a breach. This came from the inside."
Vilex cut in, a smile spread across his face, and he said. "Just like what my Gizmo said, go on, miss; it seems you still have things to say."
"The internal surveillance feeds were breached—from within. That's why we couldn't see what happened during the attack. Someone tampered with the system."
Frost retorted curtly. "Still a repeat of what you just said. Are you a bot? Get straight to the point."
The female officer spoke. "The issue won't be from me; ever since the boss switched control to his office, I've had fewer things to do about the cameras."
She nervously glanced at the captain. As the words left her mouth, all eyes turned to the Captain, Vilex teased. "Alright, now give an excuse."
Vilex's gaze fell upon Dickens's trembling hands; he thought,
Hmm, nervousness, but that hand movement—is it a coincidence to that of something I remember, or am I tired and my eyes are deceiving me?
Frost raised the volume of his voice, cutting through the brief silence. "Come on, Captain, speak. It's not like you to be quiet."
The captain crossed his arms, smiling and chuckling a bit. "Okay, I made a mistake I'm human; come on, old friend, give me a break. I have so many things to worry about."
Vilex laughed, tapping Frost, saying. "Can you listen to him?"
Frost joined in on the laughter, replying, "Vilex." "The old friend gimmick."
Vilex's voice shifted to a more serious tone; his eyebrows arrowed at one another. "Old friend, we've never had an agreement. I know what you are; I just need to prove it."
A sinister smirk bloomed on Dickens's face; confidence brewed where fear once lingered, and his voice carried a newfound firmness as he spoke. "You're something else, Hero. Why do you keep doing your friend like this?"
Vilex lashed out at him. "Call me friend one more time, and I promise you that you'd spill blood."
"You're doing it again, aren't you—stalling? You do this at moments like this. He added,
Dickens sighed, brushing his eyebrows with his hand; he spoke out a word in a parabolic manner that sounded unusual, but to one—Vilex—it sounded familiar.
"Mistakes here and there are the basis of being human."
Vilex's face tightened as he tried to recollect where he heard that phrase; Frost, on the other hand, watched his partner looking confused and turned to Dickens.
"What's with the parable? Speak normally."
Dickens let out a sigh again. "I guess I have been sold, but little matter; I guess it's about damn time, you know, old friend. A grin crept out, a little tremor hit the ground, everyone lost balance for a moment Vilex, who looked up wondering what was going on, caught up to Dickens's hands—reddish hands; they were boiling red.
Just before he could move... a cataclysm tore through the building—the explosion crushed its very foundation.
The night sky, lit with a thousand stars, displayed the quiet beauty of darkness, while the moonlight fell upon the destruction, turning it into a grim work of art. Every person was down on the ground, blood streaming down, bodies lying lifeless, but one was unscathed—Dickens; he sat confidently amidst the destruction. A little movement happened right in front of him; Vilex was getting back to his feet.
Dickens grinned hard at him, and he got up from his seat, turning to run. Vilex got a glimpse of him running, and with the strength he got, he hurled away the debris on him and Frost, chasing after Dickens.
Frost wanted to get up to go for the chase, but he was caught in debris trapping his legs; he spoke out lowly, calling on Vilex. "Wait for me."
Vilex was already gone; his chase was tough Dickens was a fast runner. Even Vilex gave a thought:
How is he so fast? And he's a superhuman. I have to catch him. God knows how many people have turned to Al-Daeem's side, goddamn it.
They did the cat and mouse chase for about seven minutes till they got to a place—a tall glasshouse. Dickens stood right in front of the building, his arms raised. He stopped the chase. Vilex only stood watching him carefully before Dickens turned back to the building.
Vilex called to him. "So you're a superhuman; I guess I understand your interest in superhuman cases, but since when?"
Dickens replied sharply. "Like I said before, it's about damn time, you know. He placed a hand on his face; the palm became reddish again, and a spark of fire engulfed his face.
Vilex stood dumbfounded; he thought,
Is he nuts? Who'd burn himself
His hands still placed on his face, just in a moment something dropped, and again it dropped, and slowly the fire was losing light; it went off eventually. Dickens's face was steaming hot, but the hand was still placed on the face; he chuckled a bit and. He took away his hands from his face.
Vilex was starstruck by a familiar face he thought he'd never see again, the brown-eyed, ginger-looking face of Cecil Edgar. All he could make was. "Huh."
Cecil, smiling at him, said. "It's been a while... Old Friend.