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Lightweight 4: Animals

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Nicholas Ahlhelm
Jun 10, 2024
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Cover art by Brent Sprecher.

The flames were all around him. And the flames licked at his skin. He could feel them burn him. It hurt, but he knew it shouldn’t. He knew the fire wasn’t his enemy. It was his friend. It was his ally. It wasn’t meant to betray him. 

But it did. 

His skin burned and he screamed. 

“Why?” The words echoed past the crackle of the flames. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Everything happens for a reason.” 

The voice was a whisper, but somehow he heard it clearly past the fire, past the crackle of his own skin burning. 

“Who are you? What do you want?” He whimpered as the words passed from his mouth. The pain was too much. It was too strong. And his failure was too much. 

“You will learn all of that in good time. But for now, you must continue as it was. You must forget. You must be ready for when you are needed again.”

“No. I have to get out! I have to make him pay!”

“That is not your choice. That is not your path, not yet.”

“No!” His scream echoed out of the burning room and out of his skull. 

In a small room in the burn ward of the Grace Medical Center, George Arnold slowly blinked his eyes. For the first time in nearly a month, he awoke. A breathing mask was over his face. He could feel his hands covered by multiple sensors. 

“Wh-what?”

A doctor looked down at him. She was black, maybe in his forties. She wouldn’t be the kind of person Dad would want around him. “I’m glad you’re awake, Mister Arnold. Do you remember what happened to you? Do you remember the mall?”

George slowly shook his head. “I don’t remember anything.”


Lightweight was grateful that his costume was a ski suit. Even with the repairs he had to make to the costume, it protected him from the December winds. And those winds blasted around him as he flew over Federation. His boots were locked to the steel grate beneath his feet, but he didn’t have the maneuverability of the man he chased. The Red Sparrow flew upon massive wings that spread from underneath his arms. Lightweight couldn’t help but think how awesome it was to be chasing after him. 

The Red Sparrow was almost a legend. Sure he was a criminal, but for the past thirty years he faced off with just about every metahero Lightweight could name. Now he was back in Federation. Lightweight couldn’t get over how amazing it was to follow him. He just wished it was easier. 

The Red Sparrow flew with the speed and agility of his namesake. His wings were natural, but the data file on him said his flight powers weren’t based on them at all. Instead he just had a natural ability to propel himself off the earth. Scientists still hadn’t figured out how exactly Red Sparrow or dozens of other metahumans propelled themselves through the air, but the Sparrow’s wings seemed to be for little more than easier turning and control as he sped through the air. 

Lightweight struggled to keep up with him. The higher they went the harder he found it to keep up speed with the crimson-clad villain. With nothing to push against accept the world far below, it wasn’t easy to push up his speed. He needed to figure out a better way to get around than that. But right now he needed to keep up with Red Sparrow. He needed an edge. 

He needed to stop the Sparrow before he could get away. He reached out towards the villain with his power. 

The Red Sparrow took his name from the crimson spandex he wore. At nearly sixty, his musculature didn’t fill it well. Nor did it hide the gut he was developing across his middle. But it was Lightweight’s best bet. Lightweight felt the spandex with his powers. Either this works or I pants a senior citizen.

Lightweight pulled Red Sparrow towards him with his powers. But the Sparrow was going too fast. Instead of slowing down, the Sparrow’s momentum yanked Lightweight after him. 

Lightweight flew forward as if rubber-banded by his own powers. He could release the hold, risk letting Sparrow go or he could ride it through. Not even a choice. Even if this kills me.

He flew towards the Sparrow at speeds Kevin wasn’t sure he ever experienced even in a car. But he didn’t let panic overtook him. He focused on Sparrow. He would only have a second to make this work. He pulled up his knees despite the winds whipping against him. His knees cried out in pain, but he knew what he needed to do. He raised the grate up between himself and the Red Sparrow. As he careened towards the villain, he took aim.

The heavy metal crashed down into the small of the Red Sparrow’s back. The old man cried out in pain even as Lightweight bounced up and away from the Sparrow. The Sparrow instantly arced downward. 

He’s out, Lightweight thought. And if I don’t save him, he’s street pizza. At this height, he could do serious damage to anything he hit. Why can’t this ever be easy?

He brought the grate speeding downward as he reached out for the Sparrow again. He pulled up on the old man, felt the villain’s speed slow. But it wasn’t enough. His momentum was too much. He had to do more than slow him down. He had to stop his descent. 

Lightweight focused past the Red Sparrow, focused on the city below. He pulled himself down, doubled, tripled his own gravity. Five times, ten times. His descent brought him down towards Red Sparrow faster and faster. He reached out with one hand as he soared past the old villain. He grabbed him as he again altered his own gravitational pull. Suddenly he wasn’t falling anymore. Lightweight pulled the villain in tight to his body. Seconds later, he brought both of them down to the ground. They were in the rear of the main headquarters of the Federation Police Department. He stood in the middle of dozens of police cruisers, all ready for service. Half a dozen cops were already running towards him. 

“I think you’re looking for this guy,” Lightweight said to the nearest cop. “Forgive me if I don’t stay for questioning.”

“Hey, hold on!” The cop went for his gun. Lightweight knew that was his cue to get out of here. He launched back into the air of Federation. 

Certainly isn’t the City of Champions anymore, he thought as he soared back towards home. 


He touched down in Saviuk Park. Just a few blocks from his house, it had the advantage of also having a visitor’s center that stayed unmanned and unwatched most of the time. With heat inside, it made the perfect place to change in and out of costume. He took a quick second to make sure the coast was clear before flying inside. Millie met him with his bookbag.

“Everything go alright?”

“Other than the police trying to take potshots at me, everything went wonderfully.” 

“And the money Red Sparrow stole?”

Kevin shrugged. “I didn’t leave him in a position to answer a lot of questions. I’ll let the police figure it out.”

“And what if they can’t? He stole hundreds of thousands of dollars in charitable donations. Christmas may be over, but that doesn’t mean that you have to leave people’s life in ruins. Without that, essential care for the homeless might not be funded and—”

“I know. I know. But I’m only one man. And I have other things to do today, remember?”

“I remember.” She pushed the bookbag into his hands. He walked past her and into the restroom.

A couple of minutes later, Kevin Mathis was back in his everyday clothes. He slipped on his coat as he came out of the bathroom. Millie had her phone in her hand. 

“We’re already running late. If we don’t catch the bus now, we will never get to the airport in time to meet your new brother.”

“Please don’t call him that,” Kevin said. “I’m already creeped out enough that my folks think bringing home another kid is what I want for the final semester of high school. I barely want to go to school let alone usher some German weirdo to his classes. Besides I don’t even like death metal.”

“You know, all Germans don’t listen to death metal.”

“Electronica, then.”

Millie shook her head. “You’re hopeless. Come on we have a bus to catch.”


The tower was empty. It was rare that no one else was present in the facility, but the Gray Man knew that his masters rarely made an appearance during the holiday season. Like so many actual businesses, their concern was one that went on hiatus from Christmas to New Year’s Day. He knew this was his only chance. After all, he already knew what threat faced Lightweight next. If their enemy had their way, Kevin Mathis would be dead before he even knew what hit him.

The Gray Man walked through the long winding hallways of the tower. They were designed to confuse any man, even the young members of their order. He knew if he wasn’t careful he could easily become lost here. But he knew his path even if the random doors and tunnels off his path made him question his own path. He knew that was their purpose, but even that knowledge did little to stop his sense of distraction. 

He counted the doors and tunnels as he walked. It was how he measured every path he took in the tower. After the third tunnel and the sixth door, he knew he was there. He opened the seventh door and walked inside. 

The room was a massive garage, far larger than anything that would seem to fit in the tower from outside. That was only one of the many strange abilities of the tower. Space inside it was not like the space outside it. If he ever had to describe it to anyone, he knew he would use that police box from that BBC show everyone seemed to love. But this was real life, not some goofy show with rolling hair dryers as villains. 

The lights were already on in the room. He smiled as he saw them, the newly ordered drones provided by KingCo. They sat unmoving inside the garage, each a bipedal figure loaded down with weapons. KingCo called them Titans and the Gray Man knew them well. As did Kevin Mathis. 

This time Kevin wouldn’t have to worry about them. The Gray Man walked up to a large terminal in front of the giant robots. It was a simple panel, not unlike the interface to an iPad. It was far too easy to navigate through the six robots programming. He drew up the information he had on the target. It wasn’t hard. The tower had massive records on all their known enemies. The target was no different. He sent the simple command to the Titans robotic brains: “Kill Howl.”

One by one the Titans stood up straight. The tiny orbs that served as their “head”, really a massive sensory package, each focused down on him. The Gray Man knew they were reading him, even as their sensors reached out farther in search of their prey. 

The Gray Man programmed in the coordinates for the airport. It wouldn’t be long. Soon they would find their target. Soon Kevin Mathis would be safe from another threat. And another damned Morlock would be dead. It was the way it was supposed to be, after all. 

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