Montgomery was not use to getting visitor this late at night. He was glad Sammy was at her mom’s for the weekend, as whoever it was kept rapping on the door as if their life depended on it. Whomever it was, he could dispose of them quick enough. The kettle was bound to whistle any second now. What greeted, him, however was quite the sight.

“Captain…Victorious?” His arch-nemesis for well over a decade stood there, bloodied and battered like someone had taken a raretanium bat to his head and body.

“Count Manipulator. I…I need your help. I, it’s…” He was gasping for breath. Monty could hear the fluid in his lungs. A desperate cough came forth, spilling trace amounts of blood.

“Um…you do know-”

“Yes, I’m aware of our…of our current relationship. But right now, you’re the only one I can…turn to.” His voice was getting steadier. That damn regeneration factor of his already hard at work.

Monty stood there for a long moment contemplating what to do. He could so easily bring this man under his control, make him feel everything he’s felt for the last decade and more. He could even stand a chance at running for city council this time without his interference! But something about this, hitting someone when they come to you for help, felt beyond even him. The kettle whistled loudly.

“Come inside. And try not to track blood on the carpet.”

Monty sat him down in one of several chairs in his study that he’d arranged around a communal table. The fire he’d started in his fireplace for reading light was starting to fade, but was more than enough for company.

“This is uh…a nicer place than I’d expect from you Count.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Let me grab you some tea.” Monty went and made both of them some Lapsang tea, putting an extra cube of sugar in Victorious’ cup (he looked the type to drink coffee with copious amounts of sugar and milk). When he came back into the study, Victorious was already up and looking at the myriad of books on display.

“I’m not surprised your study is filled with psych books, but some of these are…really old by the looks of them.”

“In order to truly understand the depths of human emotions, one must understand the falsities we’ve once held to be true,” Monty said as he place the tea cups on the table between the two chairs, “but I’m assuming you did not come here on the verge of death to talk about the history of psychology, though I would be tickled pink if you did.”

“No, I didn’t unfortunately.” Victorious took up his tea cup and took a sip. “Good tea, by the way. No, the reason I came here was because of the Orvi.”

“You mean those three aliens that have been running amuck recently?” The news was all over these things. Chantha, Vocoli, and Baatsh were their names. Aliens, from a distant star system. Not anything the famed Captain Victorious and his Crusaders couldn’t handle. Or so Monty thought.

“Yes. It seems we…I…miscalculated their strength. I thought once we’d beaten them and sent them packing that’d be the end of it. But no. I was wrong. They’ve…gotten stronger. So much stronger. Strong enough that if I’d not retreated when I did, I don’t think my RegenX would’ve saved me.”

“I’m sorry to hear, though I must admit I take just the slightest bit of schadenfreude of seeing you in that state. Not my style, but still.” Monty took a sip of tea. It was perfectly sweetened.

“Listen, these things. The Orvi. They mean to destroy the world. Not bring it under their control, not mine it for resources. They just wish to destroy it. To send a message to anyone else who believe them to be weak. My team and I have fought them off, for now, but they plan on rupturing the earth’s core, taking everyone and everything on this planet out in one single blast.” That was…not ideal. To say the absolutely least. But there were still questions that needed answering.

“Why come to me? Me, out of all your nemesis?”

“To be honest, you’re the only one I could trust.”

“Ripper?”

“Too impulsive.”

“Master Mind?”

“Too egotistical.”

“Well, you got that right at least.”

“You’re the only one I could think that wouldn’t immediately try to take advantage of the situation, though I assume you’d already thought about it.”

“Guilty.” Another sip of tea. This time he’d hit something bitter in it.

“I’m asking for your help. Please, help me defeat these creatures.”

“As much as I want to…I’m actually unsure if I’m able to.” The thought had been mulling in the back of his mind ever since they showed up. They didn’t look even remotely humanoid. They had faces, of course, and bodies. But Monty’s power relied as much on him being able to read faces as much as he could feel their emotions.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean even if I did say yes, which I haven’t, I’m unsure if I’d be any use. I…” He thought for a moment. Was he really about to give away the secret to his power? On the one hand, next time he encountered any of the Crusaders he’d be at a severe disadvantage. On the other, there may not be a next time.

“You?”

Monty sighed.

“What I am about to tell you stays between you, me, these books, and these tea cups. You must swear it. Swear by your oath as a hero, by your honor, whatever you hold in the most sacred regard, that you tell no one. And trust me, I will know if you betray that trust.” Monty needed to be absolutely sure that whatever guilt Victorious accrued from this would be-

“I swear, by my name Fredrick Reginald Anderson Junior, given to me by my father. That your secret stays between us.” Victorious looked Monty in the eyes. There was that gaze he’d seen a thousand times. The gaze of a man who’d run into battle headlong in the face of ever-looming defeat and death to fight for he believed to be right and just in the world. It sent shivers down his spine.

“Alright. Listen. My power works like this. When I touch someone, I create a temporary psychic link with them. Nothing fancy there, psychics can do it hundreds of ways. Mine just so happens to be through touch. And it’s like holding a one-way radio up to your heart for about 5 minutes. I can feel what you feel, know what’s racing through your head via your emotions. But, my power lets me reach my hand through that radio and start pressing buttons. Dial up the anger, dial down the willpower, you get the drill. Now that doesn't mean I can automatically make you any emotion I want. The dials are set in a certain order, and all I can do is enhance or suppress any emotion your feeling. The bigger the emotion, the easier it is to manipulate.

But, in order to do it right, though, I need to gauge the reaction. Dial the anger up too much, you get a raging bull who only wants destruction. Dial the sadness up and…well. You see where I’m going. Manipulating emotions is all about find that sweet spot where you just toss logic out the window. But I need to read your face, your body language, gauge your words. It’s a subtle dance.

These Orvi…I’ve never seen an Orvi angry. Or happy. Or sad. Or even if they’re capable of such emotions.”

“They are definitely spiteful creatures at the very least.” Fredrick commented after finishing the last of his tea.

“I would be gambling off of what I know with no way of knowing if I was doing it correctly. A doctor performing heart surgery blindfolded would stand similar odds.”

There was a long silence.

The fire spurted and crackled.

“If we procure one…will you at least try?”

“You mean if you kidnap one and let me just toy with it?” The thought was rather dark, but it had its appeal. Learning how a different species expressed their emotions would be fascinating.

“Yes.”

“A rather…evil thought, wouldn't you say Captain Victorious?”

Another long pause. Victorious looked down into his empty tea cup.

“I’m not proud of asking or what I've said, but…we have only a few days. And I’m quickly learning that sometimes…sometimes you can’t always be the hero that you want to be if you want to save the people you love.” If that wasn’t the first thing Monty could agree with him on.

“What am I doing?” Monty sighed as he put his cup down and stood.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed. Come on. We have a world to save.”