"So let me get this straight," Esme began as the three of them reentered the headquarters. "My great-grandmother was basically dating the guy who has now attempted to summon a god to take over the world."
The Contessa shot her a dirty look, but then shrugged and motioned for her to go on.
"She rescued you and gave you a blood transfusion from a Swedish dragon to save your life before lying to you and saying you war a cyborg."
"The guy who she dated-" Another look from the Contessa. "-was planning to rule the world, and now thinks that he can use the same plan as last time, but now the human who isn't human figured out how to fly by... how the hell did you learn that?"
Armstrong's fingers mimed a man walking to a cliff and jumping off before swooping back up to the top. Esme groaned.
"Who would write this crap? It's like living in some 70's B-movie."
Armstrong and the Contessa looked slightly confused at the idea, before returning to the task at hand. Armstrong closed his eyes and allowed himself to spread, focusing on all things, all directions, with full control...
"There's an airship - large - headed towards here now. The sheer level of heat from the thing is huge - Wen and his new pet, I presume." He quickly snapped his fingers, and a hologram sprang up - he cycled through the data feeds and quickly selected some from the myriad choices - a tracking software and a complete video stream of each of the sectors at N.E.M.E.S.I.S. headquarters. He clipped a tracking device onto the inside of his jacket and drew a small silver oblong from his jacket.
"What's that? A bomb? Mainframe link?"
"iPod." He flashed a smile, and made his way to the entrance. Once back out from the temple and into the hot, humid air, he closed his eyes. He clenched his fists, and his teeth gritted. He began to walk - five, four - now breaking into a jog - three, two - breaking into a sprint - one - and leapt.
His eyes opened. He was moving through the air, unfettered by the wind, by the earth, by gravity or any laws. It felt like freedom. The air rushed past him as he glided towards the disturbance - towards the dirigible.
The simple truth was this: Everett Wen was going to die.