Chương 89: A Full Team - 2

What was there to argue? Frank was right. He had to ask his father to grant the modification tool to the rest of their core security team, to Penn Vic, Outlet, and Horn. Sure, they were newer to everything, but what point was it to keep things a secret when their whole world was on the line? Lance returned to his room — a small but private chamber hardly bigger than a closet; much like his academy dorm room, then — and readied his [Teleportation] spell.

Unlike his father, he couldn't snap his fingers and open a portal. He had to concentrate, put effort into his incantation lines, and how the mana flowed from his body and into the world. He took the better part of twenty minutes to form the teleportation portal. His childhood home came easy enough to him, but The Grotto itself, a place he hadn't been in long months, less so, so he settled for the outside of his home, not the inside.

Lance stepped through the portal and found himself in the redwood forest which surrounded he and his father's home. Behind him, the portal closed; had he more mana, he could've kept it open. Yet another instance in which he was not like his dad. Case in point, if he wanted to get back to Headquarters in a timely fashion, he would need his dad to transport him, so a lot hinged on his father actually being home. He entered the house and called out: "Dad? DAD?! It's me! You home?"

Lance's voice echoed through the derelict hallways covered in dust. It was clear no one had actually used the house in months, not since when Warhol had escorted him to the basement and informed him that The Grotto, his hidden lair, was beneath the family home. He made his way to the basement, knowing that his father wouldn't be anywhere else. Except, perhaps, his old master bedroom that he and their mom had shared once, a long time ago, though even that was unlikely.

Once he was in the basement, Lance found the section of the wall which his dad had messed with those long months ago. He tried to replicate the things his dad had done but could not find the exact pattern. Had his father spoken some special words? Imbued the stone with mana? He did not know... After so many failed attempts at worming his way into The Grotto, though, the passage opened of its own accord, though Lance knew that was not the truth. It had to be his dad, he reasoned.

A sophisticated magical gate would not open for just anyone, not one that his dad had made, anyway. He descended into The Grotto. Lance expected to see the same blissful sights as last time, of fireflies, a leyline running along the ceiling and floor, and of sweet scents and quaint sights, such as the fireplace with a pit of black tea ready for consuming or his dad's little shrine brimming with holy energy. Instead, what he saw was... there wasn't any other word for what he saw than pestilence. Consumption.

All of The Grotto was black. Boils the size of large mushrooms quivered everywhere he looked. And bat-like creatures he couldn't identify made their home in the rafters above which supported The Grotto's heft from the ground above. Blinking lights from the many machines remained flickering, but that was it; there weren't any more fireflies, or tea smells, or love in the air. It was all deplorable.

"Dad?" he asked as he entered the main chamber. He saw a massive figure dominate the room. The figure bore his father's dragonfly wings, but that was all he recognized of his father.

"Is that you?" The figure turned to him. It smiled, but not a smile which reminded him of anything pleasant, not with the sharpness of the figure's teeth, nor how its horns brimmed with unholy flames, or how its barbed tail whipped around its lower regions like a big cat on the hunt.

"Ah, Lance. Back from your internship? Is it already time for the new school year? You will need money, yes? Oh, my mind has been so... scattered, lately." Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

"Uh, no, dad... listen, a lot has happened at my internship. I've been traveling and helping the political cause." He spoke.

"I will keep things short, but Frank and I have a team of guys, talented, hardworking, strong fellows, and we think it is time they be let in on the modification tool. What do you think?" Warhol rubbed his chin as he considered the matter. Then, they grunted.

"The modification tool is no longer a concern for me. If it will relieve your mental anguish on the fight ahead, I will grant it to whoever you desire," his dad snapped two of his fingers together and a portal opened between them.

"That portal will remain open for a couple of hours. Bring all you want through and I will grant them access to the modification tool." Lance wanted to ask his dad what on the Gods' Green Continent happened to him, but held his tongue. His dad was in a good mood and willing to play ball with him. He wasn't about to risk that for questions he wasn't liable to answer truthfully.

"Okay. Thank you, dad. I will be back soon." Once he was back at Headquarters, Lance rushed about in finding all the members of the team. He prepped them for as well as he could concerning his father's... visage but knew no matter how many playful euphemisms he used, his team would not see his dad any differently than how he saw them himself, as a man more monster than human.

"Just be prepared. Okay, guys?" With that, he led the team through the portal. Back in The Grotto, stunned gasps shot out of the team like a sportsman tackling an ill-equipped water boy. Frank above all seemed shocked by his one-time friend's look. He had to take a few steps back to contain the disbelief.

"Warhol..." Frank awed by did not finish as Lance interrupted and called for the three newcomers to step forward.

"I know my dad looks... different, but he is the same great guy as ever. He will lead you through the simple processes that Frank and I both went through the obtain our 'secrets.' And don't worry, you won't end up looking like him! This whole thing, yeah, is from something else; something my dad is doing to fight the Horror... so say thank you to him..." Lance swallowed all semblance of honor in saying what he did to Penn Vic, Outlet, and Horn.

He did not speak lies, of course, not outright ones, but many partial truths. In a certain sense, his father's quest for power, of which the modification tool was a part of, had led him to their current state. Not directly, perhaps, but it played a role.

"Welcome, Lance friends: you are in The Grotto, a peaceful place of my design meant to act as a hideaway between missions." Warhol explained.

"I will now guide you through the super-secret process in which I, as the Omni-Wizard, rose to fame and power..." As his father explained to the three newcomers the history of the modification tool and how he had acquired it, he and Frank shared a series of vital looks. Most of their looks could be boiled down to, 'what-in-the-many-hells-of-the-universe is going on with Warhol?!' Once the modification tool was bestowed upon the three newcomers, Lance intended on asking his dad some poignant questions.

When the ceremony was done and the others were 'oohing' and 'awing' over their many new Boon Points, Lance urged them back through the portal.

"You can marvel at yourselves later. Right now, I would like some alone time with my dad, okay? I don't get to see him too often anymore." Although everyone knew basic quality time was not on the agenda, they left regardless, knowing that they wouldn't want to be around for what was to next happen. A stern talk, followed by — maybe — an uncomfortable fight. Frank remained with him, his glare at Warhol constant and unchanging as the wind.

"Dad..." Lance started.

"What happened?" His father sighed, though with his gait and body, it came out sounding more like a groan or a moan.

"Nothing has 'happened,' son. I have become stronger, wiser, and complete... well, not totally complete. Not yet. I am getting closer, though. I am becoming who I was meant to be all along."

"You can't possibly mean this monster! Dad! Look in the mirror! You're no longer human!" Lance's face became wet with tears. This was all too much.

"A monster?" Warhol's voice dropped unnaturally low.

"Huh. My HUD says otherwise, my child. Some humanity still exists." Not having any clue of what to say, Frank picked up the conversational baton.

"Warhol. I am seeing the same changes in you now that preceded the incident from two years ago. I implore you to listen to reason, friend, and do what it takes to remove this monstrous body." Warhol snickered.

"I do not think it is possible to remove the changes which have come across my body. Frankly, Frank, even if it were, I would refuse. Until the Horror is slain, there is no reason for me to leave my 'monstrous' body. This conversation is over and I assure you both, it was as displeasing as it was pointless." His father then slid his hands toward them in a wide arc, as if he was clearing a shelf of knickknacks.

He and Frank were tossed by an invisible force into the portal and before either of them knew it, they were back at Headquarters.