One (One Universe)

after torching half the place.
    Fisk’s voice, weak and wheezing, comes slithering through the air. “You’ll never be anyone, Merrin Grey. Not without us. And you’ll never be able to come back after this. You’ll regret it the moment you leave the arena. You know the life of a One is… Well, it doesn’t have much of a point.”
    No, it doesn’t.
    No, it doesn’t , I want to scream, but life without Elias doesn’t either. And gaining a Super for myself while others pay the price certainly doesn’t.
    Elias cocks his head toward the wall about 10 feet away at one edge of the testing arena, toward the huge red button that will open the ceiling. He looks up at the hatch that unfolds to the sky.
    “Get ready,” he mouths. Leni and Daniel step closer to us.
    Fisk’s left the door to the lab with all our formulas — all the ones except those I’m smuggling out — gaping open. Elias hasn’t missed it. His gaze burns past me right at the door.
    Elias drops his hand from mine, holding his palm out flat. He sends a blast of air against the ground, swooping one of the medical-grade oxygen tanks up from the floor and sending it careening through the air. I have no idea what he’s trying to do — create a distraction? — until it hits the doorjamb and cracks open, hissing.
    Elias says, “Flame on, Len.”
    Leni clamps her eyes shut, reaches out, squeezes Daniel’s hand tight, and stretches her other one out toward the door. A powerful column of flame shoots out and torches the inside of the lab, together with all its vials, in less than 10 seconds.
    Elias sends a stream of air straight at the button. The blades of the ceiling split open, petals of a flower gliding out toward the edges like they’re welcoming the sunlight, which now streams down into the area in ash-filled beams.
    Some of the guards, coming out from cover now, try to tackle Nora and Lia, but Nora rips over to Lia in a flash. They join hands and teleport out so quickly and violently that the whole room trembles.
    Elias wraps his arms around me, and I almost sigh with relief at the sensation of takeoff. Together, we zoom across the floor, picking up Leni and Daniel, grunting against their weight.
    Now we really lift off to go back up through the ceiling. I put everything I have into helping Elias push us out of that roof — this is our only chance.
    From 20 feet above the arena, I see my parents roll the boys out a side door to a waiting car hands placed protectively on their bodies. I have to trust Mom and Dad now, with Michael and Max at least. I’ll go crazy if I don’t.
    Fisk limps into the lab, making a strange noise like moaning and screaming combined, and another stray oxygen tank rolls into the room after him. I wonder if Elias did that, too.
    A great boom sounds, and a plume of flame shoots up after us. The fire must have reached the second oxygen tank. We just destroyed the years of research about how to make Ones into Supers, how to transfer powers, and who knows what else?
    We did our job.
    So why is my heart sinking into my stomach even as we climb up into the sky and out of the arena?
    The ceiling closes, probably automatically, before any of the security can jump on a hovercraft or summon a flier to chase after us. I know they won’t die unless they’re stupid enough not to close the door to that lab. One good thing about an underground compound is that it’s very hard to blow up — the lack of renewable oxygen will quench any explosion. The arena will still be there.
    The rest of the Hub’s research won’t suffer — that, at least, is something.
    We thud down, and the frozen grass field crackles beneath our feet. Leni and Daniel gasp and place their hands on their knees to try to catch their breath — they’re not used to the sensation or quick ascent of flying like we are.
    Elias snags my wrist and whips me into him for a tight hug. I can’t tell if he’s gripping my waist this hard on purpose or depending on me to keep him upright. He breathes hard against the biting cold air.
    “Thank you,” he chokes as he presses his face into my hair.
    I squeeze him even tighter. Having him here in my arms after all that is almost too good to be true.
    “Can you run?” I ask him.
    “I think so. Better than I can fly right now, at least.” He lowers his voice. “And we can’t leave them.”
    I turn out from Elias’s grasp, as much as I hate to. “You guys,” I say to Leni and Daniel, “can you handle a