Chapter Text
Distant Dreams:
Earth, 18 hours before the opening of the Metro Man Museum
It was dark at the Metro Man City Prison for the Criminally Gifted. The call for lights out had taken place a few hours before, and everything was quiet. In the innermost ward of the prison, where those with only the highest clearance could enter, was one of the most famously infamous of the prison’s residents: Megamind, Incredibly Handsome Criminal Genius and Master of all Villainy.
Stores were told in the prison of Megamind’s exploits, mostly consisting of the trouble and mischief he had gotten into as a child while growing up with the walls of the prison. When Megamind’s current career was discussed among the inmates, it was often with a sense of pride, as if the inmates were uncles bragging about the accomplishments of a favored nephew.
This was hardly surprising, as Megamind had grown up in the prison, and the inmates had probably served as his first role models and inspirations. They had also played a part in shaping his somewhat bizarre sense of ethics. None of the prisoners in the prison were guilty of violent crimes, mostly being a gifted group of thieves, smugglers, and foragers.
However, there was one man in the prison who, it could be said, had as profound an impact on Megamind as anyone of the inmates.
Charles Hayworth, the Head Warden of the prison, was on the graveyard shift for guarding Megamind’s cell. He had been adamant that the guard staff needed to keep security tight over the last few days. There was no telling what sort of dastardly plot Megamind had in mind for the opening of the Metro Man Museum. Of course, any of those measures would probably turn out to be completely useless. Megamind already had an escape plan in mind, but there wouldn’t be any sort of movement on that front tonight. It would have been utterly ridiculous for him to escape under the cover of darkness. There would be no one to witness it and boo him for it later.
Charles had been Head Warden at the Prison for a good many years. Outwardly, he was a tough, humorless man with a stickler for rules and regulations. However, there was another side to Charles. He did demand a high level of efficiency from everyone who was under him, be in prison guard or inmate, and he didn’t tolerate disrespect from either party towards the other. But, he also saw something in the inmates beyond people who had broken the law and were therefore useless. No, he chose to see them as people who had the potential to change. If they were willing to play by his rules of morality, he was often willing to overlook some of their more… colorful goings on.
On this particular night, he had been enjoying a quiet few hours into the watch. He occasionally glanced at the bank of security cameras that watched Megamind’s cell from every angle, but there really wasn’t much to alarm him. The book of T.S. Elliot poetry he had thought to bring along helped to while away the time. He wasn’t anticipating that anything would change that. Megamind usually slept like a rock the night before an escape, it made him extra energetic and chirpy during the actual event.
However, that was before he began to hear the muffled cries and banging on the walls emanating from within Megamind’s cell. He looked towards the camera that focused on the cot, and was stunned to see the bright blue alien in the grip of what could only be a vivid nightmare. His stick-like limbs were flailing and twisting, trying to run away from an inescapable monster. He was speaking strange words that Charles had long given up trying to decipher.
Charles closed his book, and stood up, hurrying over to the small window in the doorway to make sure Syx was all right. Charles had his own role in this little charade of superheroes and villains. He was the stern, unbending warden of the prison who chastised Megamind for his evil ways. Most days, he admitted to playing that role with a great deal of enjoyment. But, he knew it was an act. Sometimes, when there was no one to see, he was able to ease up on the role, to show, if only to himself, that he cared.
Charles could still vividly remember the day that strange alien pod had landed in the yard of the Prison. The inmates had instantly taken to the tiny blue alien and his fish companion, and had begged the Warden to keep him. Charles had looked into those huge, startling green eyes, and had felt an almost instinctual connection with the baby. He had seen in the baby an innocence and light that a great darkness hadn’t been able to dim, Here, here had been something that Charles could truly protect.
He looked through the window anxiously, seeing the shadowy outline of Syx, sitting on the floor in a mess of blankets and pillow, rubbing the back of his oversized head, his labored breathing the only sound breaking the suddenly tense silence.
At this moment, he was hardly the menacing presence that all Metro City knew and feared (and perhaps secretly enjoyed). He could still so easily become the scared, isolated, alien that Charles had cared for so many times.
He wasn’t going to insult Syx by treating him that way now, of course. He would have to wait for him to do that in his own time. After a few minutes, Syx finally spoke, his voice coming through the speakers, sounding tired and rough. “Jensen, Jensen, could I get some lights in here, please?”
Charles reached over and flipped the lights on, an action that caused Syx to clap his hands over his eyes, and cry out in exaggerated pain. “Ahh! Jensen, what are you doing? Are you deliberately trying to blind me?”
Despite himself, Charles tried to hold back a smirk. Just like Syx to turn everything into a melodrama. “Lights are at the same level they always are, Megamind.”
Megamind immediately paused, looking up at the cameras he knew were there and said, in a confused manner, “Warden, is that you? Where’s Jensen?”
“Had a family emergency at the last minute. His youngest is in the hospital.”
Megamind’s expression grew almost concerned. “Alice, isn’t it? Nothing terribly serious, I hope.”
“No, just a broken arm.” He honestly wasn’t surprised that Megamind knew the names of the guards who watched his cell, but also those of their spouses and children. For a self-proclaimed supervillain, he had never taken advantage of that information to hurt them. If anything, he actually seemed to be concerned whenever something bad happened to one of them.
“Well, do tell him I hope she recovers.”
“I’ll pass along the message.”
Megamind had risen to his feet, and made his way over to the singular chair in the center of his cell. Charles watched him closely. Nightmares were nothing new for Syx, especially while he had been growing up. However, it had been awhile since Charles had witnessed one this intense. Something about this dream seemed to have shaken him to his very core.
“You want to talk about your nightmare?”
Syx turned around in the chair, glaring at the Warden imperiously. “Nightmare, Warden? Whatever gave you the idea that I had a nightmare?”
“You were screaming in your sleep, and didn’t wake up until you fell out of your cot. How was that not a nightmare?”
Though his glare didn’t flinch, though Syx’s bright green eyes flicked from side to side, that huge brain of his no doubt racing to find an appropriately menacing answer before too much time had past. “That… was indigestion. Honestly, Warden, if you’re trying to poison me, you should tell your cooks to do a better job. My stomach is more than capable of handling even the most-”
“I’ve seen nightmares brought on by indigestion. What I just saw clearly wasn’t that.” Charles pointed out, “You sure you aren’t having a problem?”
Syx drew himself up imperiously and said, “Warden, I am a criminal genius and mastermind of malevolence. I give other people nightmares. I most certainly don’t have them myself.”
“Right, sorry for even suggesting it.”
Syx huffed and turned his chair to face the far wall. Charles waited another three minutes, waiting for the inevitable turn around. Sure enough, Syx suddenly spun the chair back to face Charles. “A hypothetical scenario for you, Warden, since you’re here and I’m feeling uncharacteristically generous in brightening your meager existence with my attention.”
Charles did his best to keep his expression stern and gruff. “All right, fire away.”
“Suppose that I did have a dream of a disturbing nature. What would you be your advice on dealing with it?”
“That depends. What would this hypothetical dream be about?”
“To begin with, I’m in the middle of Metrocity, and I believe it is the aftermath of one my conflicts with Metro Man. The entire city is in shambles for at least ten blocks around me, yet the streets themselves seem strangely deserted. It’s actually very quiet. It’s so silent it’s unsettling.”
“No police car sirens waiting to take you away? No Metro Man flying in triumph before an adoring public?” Charles could hear the slight sarcasm in his voice. He sometimes thought that half of the conflicts between Megamind and Metro Man was for the benefit of getting attention. In all the years they had been battling, those conflicts had produced exactly zero casualties. Not even Megamind had ever been seriously injured. Though he wasn’t as indestructible as Metro Man, he possessed some sort of advanced healing factor, as he was always up and moving a few days after his conflicts with the white-caped hero.
He highly doubted that Syx saw it that way. Indeed, his agreement to the Warden’s observation was made with utter seriousness. “No, which makes it even stranger. However, I’m not alone. There’s someone else standing right in front of me.”
Syx’s voice trailed off and his gaze became distant. What was he seeing that Charles wouldn’t have been able to understand? Was it the dream he was reliving or a memory that wasn’t entirely clear? “Someone else?” He prompted after a moment.
“Someone else. Someone… Someone like… me.”
Charles was beginning to understand. Syx had never spoken a word about where he originally came from. He seemed to know what his species was called, but he had never said it to Charles. He had never said anything about his family. He must have had someone to look after him if that escape pod had been any indication; what might have happened to them Syx had never said. Charles had seen that look of haunting, empty despair on the faces of so many children during his career in law enforcement. Observing it on Syx over the years had convinced him that it was a universal sign for loss.
“Someone like you, like your species?”
Syx nodded, slumping down in his chair and holding his head in his hands. “She seems so very familiar. Her standing there, with me, seemed so natural. However, I’m certain that I’ve never seen her before.”
“Does she speak or say anything?” Charles asked, gently.
“Yes,” said Syx, after a few moments of potent silence. “Yes, she does say one thing. Not that it’s really important.”
Charles knew that very little could actually unnerve the so-called criminal mastermind. However, observing Syx right now, he could see that the blue alien was valiantly trying to hold himself together, that he was holding the arms of his chair so tightly that his knuckles were starting to grow paler with the effort. He himself also seemed to be trembling, the effort of holding his emotions and memories back manifesting in a physical sign.
What had this alien in a dream said that managed to get under his charge’s skin so thoroughly? “You had a dream about someone who is like you and you felt a connection. Honestly, I’ve heard more improbable dreams.”
“That’s not entirely what’s bothering me, Warden. This isn’t the first time I’ve had this dream, and if anything, the visual cues and emotions it’s inspiring are making me believe that this isn’t some random vision caused by my solitary circumstances. It feels like it hasn’t happened yet.”
“Are you saying that you were dreaming about the future?” Charles asked, not bothering to hide his skepticism.
Megamind frowned, a touch of bravado returning. “Now don’t look so sour, Warden. There’s every chance that my species, with it’s highly advanced brain power could have unlocked a way to see the future at some point in their evolutionary or cultural history.”
Charles had to give him that point. He was a pragmatic man by nature. He had to be, given his career choice. However, he also wasn’t one to completely reject something out of hand simply because it seemed improbable. Just because humans couldn’t do that kind of thing, didn’t mean that Syx’s people couldn’t in some capacity.
“If you don’t mind me saying so, this doesn’t really sound like a nightmare. It just seems a bit unsettling. Why are you so disturbed?”
“Like I said, Charles, I’ve had this dream before. But, tonight, it ended differently.” It wasn’t lost on Charles that Syx had started to refer to him his first name. It was almost as if he had stopped thinking of this as a late night conversation between a prisoner and warden, but as one friend confiding to another. “After she said my na... after she said that one word, she just started vanishing.”
“Vanishing? What do you mean?”
“Like she just started to disappear thin air. I tried to stop it, but my legs felt as though they had been encased in concrete, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak. All I could do was just watch, helplessly, while she vanished. And after she was gone, the loneliness, the silence, it was overpowering. I wanted to get away, but I still couldn’t move.”
He shook his head. “I’m confounded. No matter how many times I try to make sense of it, I fail. This dream can’t be real. It’s logically impossible. I should have been able to leave this behind the second I woke up, but I can’t escape the image of her face. She’s always there, in the back of my mind.”
There was such fear in Six's eyes, such a forlorn tone in his voice that Charles found himself experiencing the very familiar feeling of helplessness. How was he supposed to respond? How could he offer comfort to an alien who clearly had experienced something that was beyond anything Charles or any other human ever could comprehend? Syx had lost him entire civilization, planet and family. He was essentially all that was left. It was honestly something of a miracle that he hadn’t turned out worse.
Still, he also couldn’t leave Syx to wrestle with this nightmare on his own. He had to somehow assure him that he wasn’t alone, at least. “I’ll be honest, I’m not the most philosophical, Syx, but it seems to me that this isn’t a dream you should be ignoring or trying to forget. What is it that you’re really afraid of, putting aside all questions about whether or not this alien you’re seeing could actually be real?”
Syx seemed to think about this, and when he spoke, he was unusually quiet and thoughtful. “This woman, she reminds me of someone… someone who used to be close to me. Protecting her from danger seemed to be the most important thing I could ever achieve in my life.”
“Would you die for her?”
It seemed like such a strange question for a Warden of a prison to ask his supervillain charge. Yet, Syx didn’t even seem to think of it that way. Here, just between the two of them,when there was not a soul awake in the whole building, all the masks that Syx wore were starting to slip away. “Yes, yes. I think that I would. But, if this dream is anything to be believed, I’m already going to fail even that.”
“Whoever said you were destined to fail.” Syx started to protest, but Charles interrupted. “Hear me out. This dream might not be anything, and that’s something I firmly suggest you keep in mind. However, for the sake of argument, suppose that it’s not a future set in stone. You could probably interpret it as a warning.”
“A warning? You mean, it’s something I can prevent?”
“I think so. I mean, I’m no expert on these things, but it would seem to me that you wouldn’t keep having this dream, vision, whatever you want to call it, without there being some chance of preventing it.”
It seemed as though this possibility had not occurred to Syx. “But, what exactly am I preventing, if I am the last one of my race?”
“I don’t know.” said Charles, honestly, “This seems to be one of those times when there isn’t a literal explanation for everything. You might have to go on faith with this one, Syx, that if and when this dream comes true in your life, you’ll know it.”
That probably wasn’t the answer that Syx had been hoping for. Syx’s entire personality was hard wired into science and theory, concrete problem which had tangible solutions. For all that he constantly lost, there was still an element of that which Syx could control to some extent. Charles never denied the fact that his charge was a genius, but genius brought with it the risk of only seeing one aspect of a challenge, instead of all its many facets.
Nonetheless, Syx didn’t simply dismiss his words with a haughty quip about his superior understanding of the situation. Instead, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “So, really the only thing I can do is wait.”
“Wait, and be on the lookout.” said Charles, “It may happen a whole lot faster than you think.”
Charles wasn’t entirely sure if that had at all comforted Syx, yet as he looked at the blue alien’s face, it seemed as though a new resolve came over him. It was true, Syx hated waiting and he hated uncertainty, but he also recognized that sometimes that was the only thing he could do. And once he made that choice, he tackled the challenge with the same single-mindedness and determination that he greeted everything.
And with that choice, it seemed as though some of the masks of the supervillain fell back into place. Syx gradually faded to the background, and Megamind took his place.
“Well, this has been a most invigorating hypothetical discussion, Warden.” said Megamind, as he got to his feet, “I believe I might actually be able to sleep now.”
“Glad I could be of help.” said Charles, once more hiding his smile. Of course the whole thing was hypothetical, and the day he believed that would be the day someone told him Megamind’s skin had always been green and he had just never noticed it. He headed back to his post and was about to turn out the lights when he heard Megamind. “Oh, and Warden, tomorrow morning, business as usual?”
Charles knew exactly what that meant. Megamind wanted his assurance that no one would ever know about this late night conversation. This time, Charles did smile, as he gave the same answer he always did, an unspoken promise that he would never say a word to anyone else. “Of course, Megamind when is it ever anything else between us?”
He saw Megamind visibly sag with relief. “Good night, Warden.”
“Good night, Megamind.”
The lights in the cell went out, and Charles waited for the monitors to indicate that Syx had started sleeping peacefully once again. Only then did he go back to reading T.S. Elliot.
And so, another night continued peacefully at the Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted.