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“You two are impossible,” she muttered. “In fact, all four of you are driving me nuts.”
Superheroes are only as good as their conviction. Sometimes, a smile is the most powerful weapon we have. When in doubt … fly.
His dads would call it denial. His team would call it his typical, uncanny optimism. But Adrian couldn’t help it. The truth was, he did not believe that Nightmare was dead.
Just, please”—he lowered his voice—“for all the skies, don’t complain to Tamaya without talking to me first, because she is an adamant abuser of the phrase ‘told you so,’ and no one needs that, you know what I mean?”
Sometimes Nova felt like the Renegades of the past had more in common with the Anarchists than anyone dared to admit.
“And once they”—she paused—“once we have total power, what’s to keep us from becoming villains ourselves?”
“You are afraid…,” Phobia rasped. “Afraid to feel too deeply, afraid that the truth will—” “Okay,” Nova interrupted, almost shouting. “Don’t need the evaluation right now, thank you.”
Here she was, dwelling on an almost-kiss, and Adrian wanted to talk about the time she’d killed someone.
“You told me that you watched the Detonator kill Nightmare,” said Winston. “That you were there. But … I’m afraid, young Master Everhart, you were mistaken.” His eyes twinkled. “Our precious little Nightmare is very much alive.”
“A true queen is made not in times of prosperity, but in times of hardship.”
