Vote for Xtreme

Crystal Kane stood beneath the cool white glow of Sky Vault's main console, her eyes flicking between low Earth orbit and an urgent news crawl from the Pacific Rim. Max Ray’s voice hummed steady on comms, but the real pressure was the wall of warning lights: a tsunami, surging for the coast of San Angeles, and a city not yet evacuated. Jake Rockwell leaned on the console, helmet under his arm, the only break in his armor his hard, human eyes. Ace McCloud paced behind them, restless, wings folded, a pilot with nowhere to fly. There was no time—unless they moved now, a million would drown. Then static shredded the channel, green CRT bloom flickering across every screen. A voice, slick and metallic, cut through: Hacker. “Crystal Kane, I have your answer! This wave is my instrument—only you can silence it. Relay my transmission to your Centurions.” Crystal’s jaw tightened. “State your terms.” Doc Terror’s half-human, half-cyber face appeared next to Hacker’s flicker. He spoke, every word deliberate. “My legacy is logic. Your world clings to flesh. Dock my system to one of your Centurions. Let me see a machine’s mind in a human system. Or the city drowns.” Max’s voice was even. “You want us to volunteer?” Jake snapped, “He wants to turn one of us into him.” Ace’s grin was all nerves. “Maybe he’s just scared we’ll beat him old-school.” Crystal faced her team, the vault high and silent behind her. “You have one minute. Decide.” Max’s mind raced. He thought of the ocean, the weight of command, the trust in his hands. Jake looked at Max, then at Ace. “If anyone’s getting his junk bolted on, it’s me. I’m ground. I can take it.” Ace jabbed a thumb at himself. “You kidding? I’ll fly it off him. Better on me than you two.” Max shook his head. “It’s not about who’s toughest. It’s about what we stand for. We don’t beat Terror by becoming him.” Crystal’s hand hovered over the console. “Thirty seconds.” Jake’s fist tightened. “So we let the city go?” Max looked out at the curve of Earth. “No. We beat him at his own game.” The team closed in, three arms clasped. “Power Xtreme!” The armor docked, modular systems locking in blue, red, and silver—their unity a barricade against compromise. Crystal pressed transmit. “No deal, Terror. San Angeles will weather the storm. We’re coming for you.” Doc Terror’s face twisted. “Then you’ve chosen extinction.” But on Sky Vault, the Centurions had chosen each other. Beneath, over the ocean, three streaks of primary color dove from orbit. Max, Jake, and Ace—no man alone—intercepted the tsunami’s edge with every system they had. Their teamwork outmaneuvered Hacker’s sabotage. The wave broke, deflected by rockslide, wind, and underwater counterforce, engineered by human hands. Later, in the quiet blue of Sky Vault, Crystal watched the city’s lights flicker on. Ace slung an arm around Jake’s shoulders. Max smiled, exhaustion in his eyes. Crystal, her voice low, spoke for them all. “We’re not machines, Doc Terror. And we never will be.” The Earth turned, still alive. The vote had been cast.

Comic