In the bowels of the Olympus building, surrounded by chains and machinery, bound to the wall, lived a creature that dwelt in darkness.

Terez, seer and oracle, was a huge and imposing figure; two metres tall, broad and muscular, his face gaunt from living in the dark for so long. He had no eyes, instead, two glowing white orbs stood in his sockets. His gaze pierced through the shadows, penetrating stone, earth and steel. When he looked upon you it was said that not only could he behold your future, but your very soul.

He had not always been a captive of Zeus. When he was a free man, he could see as well as any other, and his second sight came to him only occasionally. However, when he became their prisoner, the torturous enhancements and surgical procedures they carried out on him to boost his power exponentially robbed him of his sight and cast his mind into a state of shock, where the future and present were sometimes indistinguishable.

He became their tool, a gadget they used to predict the outcome of business ventures. Over the years, his mind slowly drifted back together and now he was an embittered and cunning man with a black and twisted sense of humour. When questioned these days he would deliberately misinform his captors. While always telling the truth, he would leave out crucial pieces of information which would often lead to calamitous executive decisions.

Zeus had allowed him to read and educate himself over the years to prevent the onset of madness. In time he had begun to suspect they were no longer monitoring what he read so he had taught himself several lethal martial arts, as well as other useful skills. After five long years of abuse and miserable darkness, watching the pathetic underlings of Olympus scurry about asking him meaningless questions over and over, Terez had one day decided he would be rid of his captors. He had started that day, flexing his muscles for several minutes at a time and then relaxing. He was attached to the wall, but he had gradually learned the weaknesses of his bonds, and over the months that followed he began to test them whilst rebuilding his wasted body. Requesting only the healthiest foods and working on every part of his muscular structure, as his strength returned, Terez slowly worked towards being something like the man he was.

Today was crucial. Somebody very important would be close by and Terez had seen his destiny intertwined with this young man.
Escape was at hand.

***

Nathan Tweedy was a podgy and red-faced little man. He disliked his job intensely, and he blamed his misery on Zeus' cruel system of encouraging backstabbing and skulduggery in order to climb the ranks. Tweedy was unskilled at both, having never successfully stabbed a back or duggered a skull without coming off worse himself. As a result, he was bound to his job of assistant junior manager of the Work Related Psychoanalysis department for probably the rest of his life.

Today he was even more flustered than usual, as he had been doing paperwork for fourteen hours and before he could go home he had to interview that wretched, creepy blind man. He grumbled obscenities to himself as he walked up to the cell labelled #701: Restricted Access. The guard on duty sneered perceptibly and opened the door. Tweedy sighed inwardly and stepped into the room. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. There were a few shafts of light coming down from an artificial skylight which had been activated for him, and they fell across the massive figure of Terez, locked to the wall as always.

Tweedy sat down on an uncomfortable metal chair. Two white glowing spheres appeared as Terez opened his eyes. He could feel the man's gaze like a heat-lamp.

'Good afternoon Mr Terez,'¯ Tweedy said, his mouth suddenly going very dry and sticking on the last syllable.

'Vincent,' rumbled the shadowy figure in his horrible gravely voice that never failed to send shivers down Tweedy's spine. 'You can call me Vincent, Mr Tweedy.' There was a pause. 'It's a privilege I give all my good friends,' Terez continued, and grinned. Tweedy felt even more uncomfortable at the sight of those sharp white teeth. The prisoner seemed to be quite tense today; maybe he was in pain. It would do to leave it until later. Sort out the questioning first.

'This won't take long,'¯ said Tweedy.

'I know,' the big man replied. Tweedy paused then nodded in understanding.

'Oh yes, of course'¯ he continued and rushed into the questions. 'Okay; firstly, as always, do you feel you are being treated unfairly in any way?'

Terez seemed to consider this for a time. 'No, I figure you'd treat anybody like this,' he growled. The hairs on the back of Tweedy's neck stood on end at the thinly veiled menace behind this statement.

'Okay, I'll put that down as a 'No''¯ Tweedy said briskly. He was beginning to feel genuinely unnerved. 'Secondly, have you been dreaming anything unusual lately?'

'Did you ever have a dream you could consider 'usual', Mr Tweedy?' asked Terez quietly.

'Actually, yes,' the little man admitted. 'Most of the time, I dream I'm at work.'¯

'Why doesn't that surprise me?' muttered Terez. Then he said in friendlier manner, 'Now that you mention it, yes, I have been dreaming about birds a lot lately.'

'Birds, hmm,' said Tweedy in a voice he practiced a lot. It was meant to imply that he had some insight on a matter, but came off more like a textbook-educated schoolboy trying to impress. 'That could signify many things.'

'Yeah'¯ rumbled the big man.

There was a terrible wrenching sound of metal being bent, and shattered. Before he could react, something very heavy knocked into the side of Tweedy's head and he fell to the ground. Fortunately, unconsciousness found him before he could shriek. The door opened and the guard stood motionless for a moment staring at the big man. One of his arms was loose. The giant, metal gauntlet encasing his hand and had held it fast to the wall swung free, and before the guard could react, Terez had grabbed Tweedy's metal chair and flung it at him, knocking him to the ground.

The guard was down but not out. Terez had only a few seconds. He tore at his muscles and wrenched his other arm free, dropping to his knees as his body fell unsupported for the first time in five years. His whole being screamed in pain as unfamiliar movement tugged it into life.

Terez gnashed his teeth and straightened up as the guard rolled over and attempted to stand. Terez' feet were still bound in metal boots which held him fast. The guard staggered upright and fumbled for his radio. Terez roared and smashed both gauntlets down on his leg bindings. In a split second the metal had buckled and Terez was upon the guard.

Then he was staggering down the hallway, blinded by the lighting, staggering and fumbling to remove the metal casing from around his limbs. Fortunately they functioned as boots and gloves, being designed to move dangerous prisoners from place to place. However they were heavy and unwieldy and he would be unable to feel anything with his fingers or run very fast whilst they were still attached.
Terez' mind was spinning. He arched his back as he stalked along, grimacing in pain at the effort he was putting his body and mind through. He could not see the details of the world around him. All he perceived was a shadowy reflection of the walls, floor and doorways. He could see the glowing souls of people all around him, some far away in other parts of the building going about their daily business, some from the other side who seemed very surprised that he could see them at all. He called out in his mind for guidance from anybody who could help him.

One soul in the distance caught his attention. Terez could see a far off blue light and he knew the boy was at the heart of it. Composing himself, he felt his way to an elevator and set off to find the one with the brightest soul of all.

***

At this exact moment Sire was pacing down a corridor not far away in another part of the detention centre. It had been difficult to break out of his cell but he had managed it by remembering bits of old books and movies involving jailbreaks. He was dressed in the black leather of a guard's uniform and carrying a pass-card to get him through doors. He had kept his flight goggles handy in case he ever found his air bike again.

Whilst in his cell he had come to the conclusion that his time on this planet was through. Even if he did escape he would be hunted down through the cityscape. His one chance at anonymity and long-term elusion of the authorities would be to hop a transport out of here.

The strange thing was that this didn't bother him. He hated his job and his place in this world. The only things he would miss were his bike, his cat and his little apartment. The evenings he had spent simply reading or watching movies in a tiny place that was his alone had given him comfort through the loneliest years of his young life. Now his future lay clouded, but he certainly wasn't about to roll over and let a lifetime on Gehenna become his destiny.

Zeus sent all of its criminals to the prison planet Gehenna. Nobody in the free worlds knew what it was like, because nobody had ever returned. For all Sire knew Zeus just flushed you into space when they were sure nobody was looking. The mere threat of a lifetime on the prison planet, however, actually worked in terms of crime prevention. For years Zeus had been a breeding ground for crime and corruption, but since the 'One crime, One punishment' law was passed, recorded offence levels dropped year after year until it was generally considered an act of lunacy to commit a crime in the first place. Sire had learned this by reading unauthorised history books. The accepted view taught in schools, however, was simply that crime was not, and had never been, tolerated at any level. The changing face of society's evolution, it seemed, was not a subject Zeus encouraged its population to take an interest in.

Now Sire knew what he was doing, he hurried on swiftly through the detention centre towards the nearest shuttle bay. He met no resistance and nobody looked closely at him as he passed, though his heart was beating madly. In fact nobody seemed aware that there had been a break out. Maybe this just never happened; maybe they had no contingency plan.

Just as Sire was about to relax and start enjoying his adventure, a klaxon sounded and a female computer voice informed everybody in the detention block that prisoner 701 had escaped. Adrenaline surged through Sire's body and he was about to run to the nearest exit when a door on his left opened and a head popped out.

It was a girl, a few years older than Sire. She had long red hair and was wearing the green jumpsuit signifying prisoners convicted of fraud, extortion and embezzlement. Her eyes widened as she saw him and she darted back into her cell.
Sire stood nonplussed for a moment and then called out to her.

'Are you prisoner Number 701?' It had just occurred to him that the number on his uniform when he awoke had been #421, so the alert couldn't possibly be about him.

'No I'm 606'¯ the girl called back.

'Listen I'm not a guard,' he shouted. 'I'm a fellow prisoner, so if you're breaking out, you'd better come with me or one of us is going to get caught.'

'If I go with you, both of us are going to get caught,' she replied.

'Not necessarily,' said Sire, thinking quickly. 'We can pretend I'm guarding you and get to the nearest shuttle bay that way.' There was a pause. The klaxon was still howling and red lights were flashing up and down the hallway. It would probably be only moments before more guards were upon them.

'OK,' she yelled back.'I'm coming out.' She emerged from the cell with a pair of cuffs in her hands. She was tall and slender with green eyes. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and it looked like she had not had a chance to run a comb through it for days. The jumpsuit was two sizes too big for her and she looked very bewildered. She stared at Sire in panic and handed him the cuffs. He stared back dumbly.

'Put them on me,' she said, and turned around with her hands behind her back. Sire obliged and made sure they weren't too tight.

'Um... What's your name?' he asked.

'Bridget Chase,' she said.

'Right. I'm Sire,' he replied quietly into her ear as he began to frog-march her towards the exit. 'I didn't do what they put me in here for so I'm getting off this planet. Do you want to come?'

'Well, I did do what they put me in here for, and I don't really have much of a choice now do I?' she whispered.

'You do realise there was a camera in your cell, and the guards are probably looking for you too?' Sire said.

'I put my bed sheet over it,' she hissed.

'Me too.' Sire grinned. 'What did you do to get in here?'

'I'm a computer programmer for Olympus. I stole a hundred thousand credits from the Executive Expense account in a complicated Templenet bankroll scam. It was untraceable and nobody got hurt, although a lot of people lost 0.001% of their salary. It was the perfect crime,' she whispered proudly.

'Not entirely perfect, though,' Sire teased, patting her shoulder as they walked. She scowled and said nothing so he filled her in on a few personal details and the day's events, including his meeting with Hades. She was mildly impressed with Sire's brush with greatness but did not seem especially excited, even when he embroidered his tale with exaggerations about how furious his exchange was with the Chairman Supreme.

'So, what's your plan?' she asked as they finally reached the giant hangar doors without incident.

'Just find a long distance shuttle and take off. Get to another world and lay low. See what happens,' said Sire. 'I do know two things. One is that I'm never going to get my bike, apartment, job or life back, and two is that I've spent too long on this planet.'

Bridget smiled faintly. 'You and me both, kiddo,' she said. Sire nodded and swiped his card through the reader to open the hangar doors.

Nothing happened.

Sire swiped it again and groaned. The screen above the card reader informed them that since a full lockdown was in effect, the shuttle-bay was off limits to all cards below level five. Sire's card level was three. He turned to Bridget desperately and was about to speak when the female computer voice chimed in over the loudhailer again.

'Attention, emergency,'¯ said the voice, 'Prisoner Number 701 has been identified in the north corridor outside Docking Bay 41. All security to proceed to the area for recapture.' They could hear far off doors opening and shutting, and the sounds were getting closer. Sire spun around and looked behind them. The guards would be on them in moments and neither of them liked the sound of this prisoner Number 701. Bridget grabbed him.

'Undo me,' she demanded. Sire swiped his key-card through the reader on the cuffs and they sprang open. Immediately Bridget had the panel above the door lock open and was tapping in codes with lightning fast finger strokes. 'Give me the card,' she said and pushed it into the slot once again. Sire had no idea how she was doing all this. He hated computers. They never behaved themselves around him and always became stubborn and stopped working. It made it very hard to function in a world that rose and fell on an electronic tide. Having a programmer on his side might turn out very handy, he thought. The sound of doors and running feet was incredibly close now. Sire readied himself for a fight.

Bridget tapped a few more keys and the card reader light switched from red to green. 'Now we're level five,'¯ she smiled and snatched the card back out as the hangar doors began to open. Sire blinked in amazement and they both ran into the shuttle bay beyond.

The docking bay was huge and the doors on the far side were beginning to open as well, as more guards ran into the room. To their left was a collection of shuttlecraft and in the very centre of the room was a huge man with steel restraint gauntlets and boots. He raised his head as the newcomers entered and they caught a glimpse of his glowing white eyes.

'Right on time,' he rumbled, his voice like the throb of a monstrous engine. Sire had to react very quickly. He pushed Bridget towards the shuttles, hoping she'd find a hiding place, and readied himself for defence against the giant. The big man bowed his head slightly and averted his gaze before turning to face the pursuing guards on the north side of the room. He did not attack Sire. This had to be Prisoner Number 701.

Terez, however, saw only the light radiating forth from the soul of this strange boy. At the absolute epicentre, a human form shone an ethereal white, but all around it, stretching out for nearly five metres in all directions was a cascade of blue, undulating lights that affected everything they touched. Around the boy, all was darkness and soon grey humanoid forms began moving around them both as the guards closed in.

Sire turned his head and caught a glimpse of the security force behind him. He ran forward, twisted and came to a halt with his back to the huge man. Twelve guards in total slowed and encircled the pair. Bridget had scurried over to the shuttle on the far left and was fiddling with it's external controls access panel, fortunately nobody seemed to have noticed. Sire readied himself for a fight and loosened his shoulders, taking up a light-footed stance. The stranger lowered his body ever so slightly and braced his heavy, booted feet against the ground, raising his gauntlets in preparation. The guards all exchanged looks and one of the senior officers called to the others,

'Tasers out, attack pattern delta!' All of the guards pulled out brutish looking stun tasers. Each was about sixteen inches long, black and heavy with a buzzing electric headpiece.

The fight was short and savage. Sire deflected as many blows as he could and got a good few hits in before repeated shocks left his arms and legs limp and numb. Terez, however, tore through the guards, using his gauntlets as weapons to beat them senseless and send them flying. He worked out five years of aggression in one minute, crushing, twisting and smashing the hapless security force until it lay bleeding and unconscious at his feet.

Sire straightened up and winced in pain as he gingerly attempted to rub feeling back into his limbs. It was ten times as bad as the worst pins and needles you could imagine, but at least he was still alive and conscious. His heart raced. He could hardly believe that just this morning he had been going about his daily routine and maintaining a mouse-like existence of hidden anonymity. Now here he was, a fugitive, teamed up with a rather pretty computer wizard and an insanely violent giant. The guards were all unconscious or unable to get up, so they were safe for now. He turned to the big man and extended a hand painfully towards him.

'Thank you, sir,' he said, his body shaking in pain. The man wouldn't look at him but held out his massive gauntlet. 'Are you ok?' Sire asked as he shook it.

'Your light is hurting my eyes.'
'I'm sorry,' said Sire. He didn't understand what the stranger meant, but it was clear this man couldn't look directly at him.

'Don't be sorry,'¯ said the man. 'It is what drew me to you and now we can escape. My name is Vincent Terez.'

'Sire Firebrand,' said the boy. The hangar doorway into the outside world began to open and Bridget beckoned frantically at them from the entry hatch of the shuttle on the far right. 'OK, that's our cue. Let's get out of here,' Sire urged and ran over to the shuttle's entry hatch. Terez followed, still averting his gaze and pushed his hand out to feel about for the opening. Sire grasped his hand and with great effort pulled him inside. It occurred to him that Vincent was probably blind.

'There are more guards coming,' Bridget shouted from the cockpit. Sire shut the hatch behind them and they both ran through. The ship they were on was an old model but, as luck would have it, built with a sub-light drive for deep space runs. The dashboard hummed gently and little lights flashed on and off. Sire sank into the co-pilot's seat and eyed the complex controls. He had piloted similar vehicles before, but only in regular traffic, never interplanetary. Bridget settled in the seat beside him and looked at him expectantly. Sire stared blankly at the controls and fumbled for the stick.

'You're lucky I've flown this model before.'¯ Bridget snapped and grabbed her own controls.

Terez leaned down between them.

'There are between seventy and a hundred security guards about to enter this docking bay,’¯ he said. 'But relax. We make it.'

'What?' Bridget cried.

'Trust me,' Terez grinned.

'What were you doing with the other shuttles while we were fighting?'¯ Sire asked. Bridget allowed herself a smug smile and said simply,

'Watch.' She pressed the ignition switch and all seven shuttles roared into life. 'I synced up all of the others on autopilot to different locations so they'll leave at the same time as us. Zeus won't know which one to chase.'

'What about the cameras in this hangar?'

'Re-routed them while I was programming your card. Believe it or not junior I was going to do this all myself before you and the Iron Giant turned up.'

'Including beating the crap out of a dozen armed guards?'¯ Sire grimaced, rubbing his aching arm.

'Yeah, you did good there. Was it your plan to overwhelm them with pity for you or drown them in your own blood? Can we go please?'¯ she demanded.

'Yes? Why are you waiting for my permission? Go!' Sire yelled.

'I'm so glad I picked this shuttle.' Terez muttered.

Bridget gunned the throttle and all seven ships roared into activity and hurtled through the bay doors just as the guard reinforcements were charging into the hangar. They failed to reach the tractor beam controls in time, and the ships soared off in all directions across the city and up into the midnight sky only to disappear from view in a sea of twinkling stars.