Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)-Chapter 116: barely edible

The clatter of plates and the hum of the coffee maker had faded, the breakfast table was now cleared, its surface wiped clean as Kael was about to start with the mission briefing.

_______

Fifteen minutes earlier

The kitchen had been a battlefield of voices, Freya’s sharp tongue slicing through Rhea’s efforts with relentless mockery.

Freya, dressed in a fitted cyan t-shirt and dark navy pants that hugged her curves perfectly, had leaned back in her chair, her eyes glinting with mischief as she poked at Rhea’s cooking.

"These eggs are barely edible, Rhea," Freya said, her voice dripping with disdain as she speared a forkful, her lips curling. "Did you cook them with your fire? Tastes like ash."

Rhea, her crimson hair bouncing as she leaned across the table, her white tank top stretching over her toned frame, shot back, "Keep complaining, icy, but I don’t see you spitting it out. Maybe you like the taste of my ash."

Freya’s smirk widened, her fork pausing mid-air.

"I’m just being polite. Someone has to eat this... whatever it is. Toast’s burnt too, by the way. Surprise, surprise."

"Polite?" Rhea snorted, amber eyes narrowing as her scarred hands curled around her coffee mug. "Funny coming from someone who finds fault with everything. Don’t like it? Make your own damn breakfast next time."

Freya popped a piece of toast into her mouth, chewing deliberately, her blue eyes never leaving Rhea’s.

"I would, but I’m not desperate to impress Kael with my ’homemade’ slop." She swallowed, her expression mockingly innocent. "Oh, and your coffee’s weak. Tastes like dirty bitter water."

Rhea’s jaw tightened, her voice low and sharp. "Talk all you want, Freya, but you cleaned your plate. You mouth says something but your actions say you love it. You are being your usual two-faced bitch."

Kael, sitting at the head of the table, had sipped his coffee, his hazel eyes flicking between them, his grin subtle but amused.

He let them spar, knowing it burned off their tension, but kept his focus on the mission ahead.

Freya had eaten every bite despite her complaints, her plate as clean as Rhea’s.

_______

Now, with the table cleared, Kael stood, his hazel eyes sharp with purpose.

"Follow me," he said, his voice firm, leading them to the third door in the Haven—a locked room reserved for a future client, its existence not a mystery but, it was a mystery.

He turned the key, the lock clicking, and pushed the door open, revealing a sparse, utilitarian space.

No windows, a single overhead light, a small bathroom in the corner, and a bed against the wall—identical to their own rooms, but untouched, sterile, tidy.

Rhea stepped inside, her amber eyes scanning the room, her lips curling into a grin.

"I want this room," she declared, launching herself onto the bed with a dramatic flop, her crimson hair splaying across the pillow as she sprawled out. "This one’s bigger."

Kael chuckled, leaning against the doorframe, his hazel eyes amused. "They’re the same, Rhea. You just want to change rooms because you stunk up yours."

Rhea propped herself on her elbows, her white tank top riding up to reveal a sliver of her toned stomach, her amber eyes flashing with defiance.

"Oh, please. The only stink in here is Freya’s personality, wafting around like expired milk."

Freya, standing beside the bed, leaned back against the wall, her arms folded, her cyan t-shirt accentuating her frame.

Her blue eyes narrowed, her lips twitching into a smirk.

"If you say so," she said, her voice cool, dismissive, but her posture radiated confidence, unbothered by Rhea’s jab.

"Okay, girls, focus," Kael said, his voice cutting through their banter, his tone authoritative but calm.

He stepped to the bed where Rhea lay, setting a small projector on the mattress, its lens aimed at the blank wall opposite.

"Lights off." He flicked the switch, plunging the room into darkness, the only sound Rhea’s soft gasp.

"Wow, this is dark," Rhea said, her voice echoing slightly, her form barely visible as she sat up, her amber eyes glinting faintly.

Kael activated the projector, a beam of light slicing through the gloom, illuminating the wall with an image of a sewer entrance—a rusted grate set into a concrete wall, water trickling below.

"Save your questions for later," he said, his voice steady, commanding attention.

The image shifted to a blueprint of the sewer system, a labyrinth of tunnels marked in blue lines, with a red X indicating the approximate location of the rat queen’s nest.

Kael began the briefing, his eyes flicking between the projection and his team.

"You’ll enter the sewers from here," he said, pointing to the grate. "The pipeline splits into two paths to the queen’s nest.

One’s narrow, one’s wide. We’re taking the wide one—it gives you more room to fight, reduces the risk of hitting each other, even if it means facing more rats."

He zoomed in on the blueprint, highlighting the wide tunnel, its dimensions spacious but foreboding.

"The rats are weak individually, but they swarm in the hundreds. Your main objective is the queen—kill her, and their breeding stops. If you take her out, you can fall back. The rest can be cleared slowly over time."

He pulled two small earpieces from his pocket, holding them up.

"These are your comms. They’ll let me track your location and guide you through the tunnels. I’ll be on the ground, monitoring, coordinating. If you feel overwhelmed, fall back. Freya, that’s where your ice walls come in—block passages, create barriers, buy time to retreat."

Freya nodded, her blue eyes focused, her arms still crossed, her navy pants shifting as she adjusted her stance.

Her expression was all business, her earlier teasing gone, replaced by the cool resolve of an A-class hero ready for action.

Kael switched off the projector, the room plunging back into darkness for a moment before he flicked the lights on, the sudden brightness making Rhea blink.

"Any questions?" he asked, his hazel eyes scanning them.

Freya shook her head, her platinum-cyan hair catching the light.

"Clear. Easy enough," she said, her voice confident, her posture relaxed but alert.

Rhea raised a hand, her amber eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and curiosity. "I have a doubt. Can we have lunch outside? I want to eat a lobster."

Kael’s brow arched, his grin wry. "That’s not a doubt, Rhea."

She raised her hand again, undeterred, her voice more serious now.

"Okay, fine. I can just use my fire and blast the entire tunnel from the entrance, right? The biogas in the sewers—methane or whatever—would light up, take out all the rats in one go."

Kael’s expression hardened, his voice firm but patient. "No, Rhea. That’s a bad idea. A blast like that might not kill the queen—she’s deep in the nest, likely shielded.

Worse, it’d make the rats panic, scatter into the city, causing havoc. And the explosion would be massive—roads, buildings, everything above the tunnels could collapse."

Rhea’s lips pursed, her amber eyes narrowing as she processed his words. "So how am I supposed to fight with my powers if my fire could cause an explosion?"

Kael’s grin returned, a spark of reassurance in his hazel eyes.

"I’ve got you covered. I turned on the biogas fans and blowers at the sewer exits yesterday. They’ve been running all night, clearing out the methane. You can use your fire without worrying about a blast."

Rhea’s smirk widened, her confidence surging, her crimson hair bouncing as she nodded.

"Nice," she said, her voice brimming with enthusiasm, her scarred hands flexing as if already itching to burn.

"Any more doubts?" Kael asked, his gaze flicking between them, his posture relaxed but expectant.

They shook their heads, Freya’s blue eyes steady, Rhea’s amber ones gleaming with anticipation. "No," they said in unison, their voices firm, their rivalry momentarily set aside by the shared focus of the mission.

"Then we start in five,"

Kael said, his voice final, his hazel eyes sharp with purpose.

He opened the room’s door, the hinges creaking faintly, and stepped into the hall, Rhea and Freya following close behind.