Page 202 of Villainous Intent

“You’ve been here...” I struggled to form the question.

“About two hours,” Havoc supplied, his expression softening. “We talked about the doctors’ reports and the security for your room.”

None of that sounded familiar. I nodded anyway, not wanting him to worry more than he already was. My gaze drifted back to the window, where a new cloud had appeared, this one darker and more substantial than the wispy one I’d been tracking before. It looked heavy with rain.

“You should go,” I said, still watching the cloud. “I’ll be fine.”

When he spoke again, his voice carried an undercurrent of something… Anger? Fear? But I could only hear the cadence of the words, not the contents. I should have been concerned about where he was going, should have asked questions, but focusing on anything for more than a few seconds felt impossible.

“Annie?”

“I’m here.” Was that what he wanted to hear? Was that what he’d been asking?

“The nurses have my direct line,” he said, standing. His hand rested briefly on mine, warm and solid. “Dawn will be here soon to sit with you.”

I nodded again, my attention already slipping away. The cloud outside was changing shape, stretching and darkening as it approached. Something about its movement seemed purposeful, almost predatory.

Havoc said something else but his voice sounded distant.

“Hmm? Yes. I’ll be fine. Go.” The words came automatically.

I heard him sigh, followed by his footsteps moving toward the door. The cloud outside had swallowed the twilight sky now, casting the room in shadow as the door clicked shut behind Havoc.

Then, like a lightning strike in my foggy mind, I remembered.

Cipher’s suit. When he appeared on that rooftop, when he had killed Dread, his suit had been different. The glowing lines that usually traced his body were dark. Dead.

Powerless.

The memory was so sharp it made me gasp, cutting through the haze that had enveloped my thoughts since I’d woken up in the hospital. I could see it perfectly. Cipher’s silhouette against the night sky, his suit dormant. No power signature. No technological advantage.

He’d come for me without his armor’s protection.

My fingers clutched at the thin hospital blanket as I tried to hold on to this realization before it could slip away like everything else. What did it mean?

The cloud outside darkened further, its edges turning almost black. I tracked its movement, using it to stay present while I picked at this thread of clarity.

Cipher relied on his technology. It was his identity, his brand, the thing that made him special among Villains. For him to shut it down when facing Dread meant what?

I blinked rapidly, trying to stay present with this thought. This one detail refused to dissolve like the rest of my memories.

Cipher had come for me without his powers. Without his protection. Another part of the memory hit me. Dread with the Hammer. The way Cipher’s suit had flickered and died, the glowing lines extinguishing, leaving him helpless.

But Cipher hadn’t been helpless. He had killed Dread.

I pushed myself up straighter in the hospital bed, ignoring the ache in my shoulder.

Dread had disabled Cipher’s suit. By all accounts, Cipher should have been defenseless. He was just a serum enhanced Super facing one of the most dangerous Villains in the city. He should have died. We both should have died.

But he hadn’t.

And something else, something I hadn’t processed until this moment: the feeling of power that had come from him. Not serum based power, but something organic, something alive.

I’d felt it brushing against my senses like static electricity. Raw power that had nothing to do with his suit or serum and everything to do with what was underneath. What he was.

My breathing quickened as the realization crystallized in my mind, sudden and absolute.

Cipher was Trueborn. Not a serum-enhanced Villain with fancy technology. A Trueborn, like Havoc.