Chapter Text
Prism jabbed her comlink with her finger to make sure it was on. Unlike Golem’s creations, Prism’ holograms were weak and fragile. She didn’t have much time before the weight of the bus would become too much for a light ramp, so she needed to act fast and precisely. The bus looked like it was speeding up, was there a problem with the brakes? Was the driver okay? Prism couldn’t worry about any of that, she needed to get the bus to stop before anything else.
“Golem, get ready!” Prism ordered. She side-stepped the bus and shoved her hands out in front of her, creating a ramp of hard light like she had during the Red Night. The bus roared past her, going up the ramp, and with the help of a few of her copies, Prism shoved herself against the bus and dragged herself inside the open side door.
Civilians were screaming around her. Prism kept one hand in the air to sustain the ramp that kept bringing them higher and higher off the street, and reached for the slumped over bus driver. She felt a faint pulse in his neck, so she grabbed him by his collar and dragged him out of his seat.
“You!” She shouted at a passenger. “Take him, put him somewhere!”
“Oh my god!” A woman behind her shrieked. “We’re in the air! We’re gonna die!”
Prism grabbed the steering wheel to keep the bus going straight as they continued to ride the ramp she was creating. The brakes weren’t working. Of course they weren’t. “No the fuck we’re not! Now someone tell me why the driver is dying?”
“Oh my god! The bus driver is dying!”
Prism, realizing that her passengers were going to be less than rational, turned her focus to her comlink. “Golem, do you see us?”
“Shining like a diamond up there, baby,” Golem said with a grunt. “I’m keepin’ up.”
“Good, because I’m about to start dropping these motherfuckers. Think you can catch them?”
“Oh my god!” A woman behind her shirked. “We’re gonna die!”
Prism snapped her head around and damn mark snarled. “If you don’t shut your bitch ass up right now, you’re going first!”
She needed to focus. Where was a spot she could set the bus down on the ground and somehow get it to stop? Her eyes caught a glimpse of a park.
“Golem, you know the park next to that bagel place that Sonar always gets breakfast from?”
“Heading there,” he said.
“You know those inflatable bouncy houses for kids’ parties?” Prism asked.
“I do.”
“You know what I’m thinking of?”
“Tell me when you’re ready,” Golem said.
Prism grinned and started raising her light platform, forming an incline that was turning towards the park. She’d need to be very focused for this part, slowing the bus down to a point where the passengers could get off safely while not skidding backwards on the ramp was important. If the bus were to hit a wall now, she couldn’t guarantee everyone would be injury-free. But having a muddy safety net was reassuring.
Higher, higher, and higher still they drove. The bus was now level with the rooftops of several buildings, but was slowing down. Prism increased the incline for the ramp a little more, and felt sweat building up on her brow. This was the longest she’d maintained one of her light creations, and by far one of the more complicated creations she’d made that wasn’t a hologram of herself. It was heavy, and her blood pounded in her ears, but she needed to get the bus full of screaming people to safety first.
Slower. Slower, and slower, and slower. The bus crawled up the ramp, and right as Prism felt momentum begin to drag them backwards, she leveled the light platform and boxed in the bus on all sides except the top. The bus still tried to idle forward, but it wasn’t going anywhere. Prism let out a heavy breath, stood, and turned to her passengers.
“Alright, listen up! You’re gonna slide down to the bottom! If I hear any complaints, I’m pushing you down the slide!”
“Oh my god! We’re gonna slide!”
Prism opened the bus door, and with a careful wave of her hand, the wall of the light box formed a swirling slide that went all the way down to the park three stories below. She pressed her finger to her ear to speak to Golem.
“Sending them down, big guy. You ready?”
“Ready, baby.” Was Golem’s response.
Prism selected the screaming woman and shoved her down the slide first. She went down, as one would guess, screaming, but once Golem confirmed in her ear that the woman was fine, Prism started having the rest of the passengers go down one at a time. One by one, the bus slowly cleared out, and one of the passengers volunteered to carry the unconscious bus driver on his chest while he slid down. Prism thanked him, and once the bus was finally empty, she wiped her sweaty forehead on her glove and looked for a way to turn off the bus.
She found a key broken in the ignition. Fucking shit. Prism tried to put the bus into neutral or even park, but the gear shift wasn’t moving at all, and Prism felt it threatening to snap under her grip.
“What type of shitty bus is this bullshit?!” Prism said out loud to no one.
“Probably one that’s been tampered with.” Said a loud voice from outside the bus.
Prism snapped her head around to see Mecha Man hovering next to the slide. “You gotta be shitting me.”
“I’m not.” Mecha Man said. The mech suit pointed to the bottom of the bus. “Can you make your platform transparent for me?”
Prism suddenly felt exhausted. She dispersed the slide, and focused on making the bottom of her light box transparent for him, but her eyes kept threatening to close. This was the longest she’d used her powers consecutively, and Prism wondered how long she could get away with napping.
Mecha Man moved to hover under the bus and looked up at the undercarriage. “Well, shit.”
“What?” Prism stepped off the bus and looked down at him. “What’s wrong?”
“The last time I saw this much rust was at a junkyard. How old is this bus?”
Prism felt a tug in the back of her mind exhaust itself and shrivel into nothing. “Hurry up and figure it out, I can’t hold this forever.”
Mecha Man lifted the mech’s arms. “Drop the bus, Prism, you’ve done great. I’ll take it from here.”
“And where the fuck am I gonna go?”
Golem spoke up. “Don’t worry, Golem’s got you.”
Prism accepted that, and dispersed her light box. She let herself fall three stories and sank heavily into a warm, gooey embrace.
Prism finished scrubbing herself head to toe and stepped out of her shower. Steam billowed around her as she peeled her shower cap off and looked for a towel to cover herself. Invisigal was on her bed, scrolling on her phone with a devilish grin.
“What if you went with white this time? It could be nice to change things up.” Visi asked. “Like a big, white wig. Could look pretty sick.”
“What the fuck are you doing in my house?”
Visi shrugged, and settled deeper into Prism’s pillows. At least her shoes were off. But still.
“I’m fucking naked, bitch. Get out.” Prism demanded.
Visi looked her up and down, and shrugged again. “Hey, we’ve all seen each other naked at least once.”
“You flashing your fucking tits to Punch Up doesn’t count.” Prism pointed out. “Where the fuck did you put my towel, it’s cold as shit out here.”
Invisigal reached over the side of the bed to retrieve the towel she’d tossed to the side earlier. Prism snatched it from her, and covered herself. Her blue and pink wig sat covered in Golem goo on her vanity next to a few other bottles of hair care products.
Prism sat down at her vanity and stared at the wig before looking at herself in her mirror. It had been a while since she’d had to get a new wig, and she was really attached to the blue and pink. It was iconic, a part of her brand at this point, and part of her mourned its loss. Visi crawled over to the foot of the bed and showed Prism the browser on her phone.
“I’ll pay for your next one, you’ll be back to normal sooner than you think.” Visi offered.
“Eh.” Prism made a face. “I’ll think about it.”
“Congrats on stopping that bus, by the way. Bruno was telling me all about it, how you made sure everyone got off first before Robert stepped in.”
“Yeah, speaking of which-“ Prism grabbed one of her combs and began to part her hair so she could wash it properly. She was due for a wash day, anyways. “How did Mecha Man know where I was?”
Visi pointed to her ear. “You were sort of broadcasting to the whole team? Like, we all heard you jump on the bus and scream at those poor, innocent civi—“
Prism threatened to throw her gross wig at Visi. She opted to throw her wet shower cap instead. “Those bitches wouldn’t shut up!”
Visi laughed, and grabbed a pillow to use as a shield. “Relax! Everyone was super excited for you!”
Prism huffed, and refocused on her hair. She was thankful Blazer gave her the rest of the day off, but if she took too long with her hair, she’d cut into her already fucked up sleep schedule.
“So why the fuck are you in my house?” Prism asked.
“Well, Bruno wanted to come see you after you took that nap inside him, but he doesn’t fit in the elevator for the building, so I’m here for him. Oh, and Chad said that he’s grabbing some food for you, but he got held up by a work thing.”
Prism looked at her in the reflection of her mirror. “It’s fucking weird that you use their real names.”
“It’s fucking weird that you don’t.” Visi pointed out. “It’s fine when we’re off the clock, you know.”
Prism rolled her eyes. “It’s still weird.” Before she could say more, her phone buzzed from where she’d left it in her bathroom. Visi rolled off the bed to grab it for her.
“It’s Chad. Probably asking what food you want.”
Prism answered the phone, put it on speaker, and set it down on her vanity so she could keep working product into her hair. “This is Prism.”
“What’s up, beautiful?” Flambae asked.
“Just doing my hair. Got a roach on my bed.”
“Hey Chad!” Visi said, happily.
“What's up, Court!” Flambae responded, just as happily.
“If you’re getting food, can I get some fries?” Visi asked.
“No, not getting food yet,” said Flambae, “I do need to talk to the queen for a second. Bob Bob has a question.”
Prism grabbed her phone and turned off the speaker, pressing her phone between her ear and shoulder. “What’s up?”
Robert’s voice spoke next. “Prism, glad you’re okay. Do you remember that bus from earlier? How rusty it was?”
Prism tried to remember what the bus looked like. She couldn’t see much rust from where she had been standing, but she did remember the broken key in the ignition and the fragile gear shift. She told this to Robert, who remained silent, and then sighed deeply.
“Okay, that’s what I thought. Royd and I examined the engine, the underside, and the wheels of the bus to find out why it suddenly went nuts, and we found that the inside of the bus was… well, it wasn’t brand new.” Robert sighed again, and there was a rustling sound like he was running a hand through his hair. “We also found a message in the chassis.” There was a pause, likely because he was stepping away from Flambae because his next words were whispered into the phone. “It was a message for you, Prism.”
Prism frowned, and wiped her hands on her towel so she could hold her phone properly. “And?”
“It said: ‘Do you want to stop the march?’ and there was a drawing of a prism next to it, so I’m assuming it was for you.” Robert said. “Any idea what it means?”
Prism thought for a moment, and while she had a few ideas, none of them made sense. She shook her head. “Not a clue.”
“Alright then, get some rest. I won’t keep your delivery boy much longer. Don’t worry about any of this, I’ll handle all of it.” Robert then hung up, and Prism set her phone down on her vanity.
Visi flopped back down on the bed. “What was that about?”
“Nothing,” Prism lied, “he just needed some extra details for some report or another.”
Visi accepted this, and pulled out her phone to mess around on it. Prism returned to her hair routine, but something itched in the back of her head. Not the fact that the runaway bus was meant for her, or anything like that, but Robert’s last words before signing off. He’d handle it? Mecha Man would fly in at the last moment and save the day? Prism could handle her own problems by herself, she didn’t need Mecha Man or Robert Robertson III to swoop in and take the danger away from her. Mecha Man this, Mecha Man that, Prism figured that he’d be back in the suit full-time at some point, and then he wouldn’t need the SDN or the Phoenix Program or the Z-Team. He’d be back to his bullshit no-powers solo act. Robert Robertson III versus the world, up in the sky all by himself.
Her comb snapped in her hand. Visi looked up from her phone, and gasped.
“Shit, Alice- you’re bleeding.”
“Don’t fucking call me that.” Prism got up from her vanity to find her first aid kit in her bathroom. Blood was slowly trickling from a cut on her palm where the plastic of her comb had cut into her hand. She didn’t even spare Invisigal a glance as she stomped past her. “Don’t ever fucking call me that.”
“Okay, damn, Jesus.” Visi got up off the bed and grabbed her shoes. Was she leaving? Why was she leaving? “I’ll let Bruno know you’re doing okay. See you at work.” And Invisigal left out the door while Prism was still messing around with a roll of gauze.