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    BKWildenberg
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
This story contains a brief depiction of assault, comic-book violence, and graphic language. 

The Syndicate - 41. Chapter 41 - Taran

Taran stood in front of the whiteboard that took up most of his living room, eyes roaming over the attached reports and messy hand-scrawled notes. He had scoured them so many times they were practically memorized, but he still looked for something new. There had to be something in this mess that would help him.

"You know, I'm starting to think your dad only wears that cowl to keep all the bugs off his face when he flies." Ronnie wandered out of the bedroom wearing a pair of sweats, his damp towel still draped around his bare shoulders. "That was fun, but I just scrubbed off a layer of gross! Oh… back to it already?"

Taran muttered an affirmative sound and stepped away from the board. Something just wasn't clicking, and they were running out of time. It was almost halfway to the new moon. If answers weren't uncovered soon, the Syndicate would be dealing with another missing hero.

He heard Ronnie clatter around the kitchen as he pulled out dishes to start dinner. The humming background noise was soothing and helped Taran focus. Ronnie was proving to be an invaluable comfort during stressful times, always popping in with a meal or acting as a sounding board for one of Taran's theories. Most importantly, Ronnie seemed to know exactly when to step in to keep Taran from spiraling, and he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to repay the kindness.

"Okay, give me the timeline again," Ronnie said while hacking at a loaf of bread. "Start from the beginning."

Taran gestured to the left side of the board. "The first new moon disappearance was in northern England. An apartment building catches fire in Newcastle, and a non-powered freelancer responds who was likely monitoring police scanners. She manages to get everyone out of the fire, but no one on the scene sees her leave the building. Her helmet was recovered after the fire was put out. "

"Got it. What's next?"

"The second event is an earthquake in Japan, which causes a rockslide to fall directly towards an elementary school. Windjammer redirects the slide but never reports back to base. He's always been sporadic with Control, so the Tokyo HQ didn't seem alarmed. A month later, there's a gas leak at a factory in Scotland, where Mountain Man was taken."

Taran continued. "After that was a volcano in Hawaii. This one's interesting because both Sun and Moon disappeared."

"Which makes a sick sort of sense because they only fight together, right?" Ronnie added. His extensive fanboy knowledge of superheroes still surprised Taran on occasion.

Taran tapped a printout from Control on the board. "Then the sinking naval vessel that Mariner responded to, and finally, Zephyr rescues the crew of an oil rig before somehow being abducted off the Nighthawk."

Ronnie nodded along with the explanation and crossed the room to stand next to Taran. His brow furrowed, and Taran could practically see the gears turning in his head. "Why were none of these major news stories?" He muttered to himself. "Surely we would have —," Ronnie's face brightened. "Babe, what was the death toll for all these events?"

Taran shuffled through a stack of papers as he looked for an answer. He paused over his notes. "That's odd… I don't have a record of a single casualty from any of these incidents."

"Nothing? You're telling me that between a rockslide, volcano, and multiple explosions, we managed to save every single person?!"

"I mean, it sounds weird when you put it like that," Taran frowned at the board. Was that really so bizarre? It was literally their job to handle major disasters and get people to safety. But the truth was that these were sudden events in remote locations. Even with a rapid response, casualties were an unfortunate reality.

Taran tapped the communicator in his ear. "Silver Cyclone to Night Sister," Maya answered on the first ring. "Hey, can you come down here? I think we found something."

Maya arrived shortly after, and Taran ran through his notes. "That's too big of a deal to be a coincidence…" she finally answered, nervously chewing her lip. "But all of these heroes: Zephyr, Mariner, they're among our best. If anyone could have pulled this off, it's them."

"They were being tested!" Taran gasped. "Their success is why they were taken." He saw Maya blanch at his words. "What's wrong?"

"Lunar cycles, tests of prowess… we might be dealing with ancient magic here."

The jewel thief's words echoed in Taran's mind. I represent something the world hasn't seen in years and cannot possibly comprehend.

"I think we've been asking the wrong question about our artifact thief," Taran said, walking to the board to study a photo. It was clipped from an old Children of Promise news story. The man's face was obscured by his dark hair, but there was still a hint of malice in his grey eyes. "What is he?"

"It's safe to say we aren't going to find the answer in the Syndicate archives, but we aren't out of options," Maya gave Taran a knowing look before pulling out her phone with a sigh. She tapped out a message. "There. But I'm not sure when we'll hear —,"

The phone immediately chirped with a response, and Taran did his best to choke down a snicker. "Phillip's eager to text back these days."

"Ugh, whatever," Maya snapped. "He's still on my shit list, but maybe we've been chatting a bit. Let's just do this so we can get home, okay?" She stood from her chair with a groan.

Ronnie perked up at the sudden movement. "Hold on, who's Phillip? Where are we going?"

"Phillip is Maya's ex," Taran replied, doing his best to talk over Maya's disagreement that they were never officially dating. "And we're taking a trip to the Magic Lodge."

Copyright © 2020 BKWildenberg; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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8 hours ago, Hermetically Sealed said:

Guess the question is, tested for what?

To borrow the expression from ages old judgements:

You have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting.

It seems to be an ages old expression of character and strength. Also, this reference to “tested” seems to be twofold, one for adequacy as a hero, skills, gifts, and courage in the face of danger without reinforcements. The other is what I think, the young hero’s, along with you and I, would love to known; for what purpose would this person or entity find it necessary or advantageous to harvest the most proven heroes?

Are we seeing the conscription of heroes to form a special force, whether offensive or defensive, or is it more sinister so that these heroes are lost to the ones they protect?
 

@BKWildenberg, the story just keeps adding more mystical suspense and magical adventure to be wrapped in friendship, comradely, and youthful love. Thanks for sharing this delightful story!

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