The four people saw only a dark void. They touched the void, heard the void, and knew only both the void and their own thoughts.
Jack spoke up.
“Well, whatever happened, it’s a stark, and bloody better change from the babes in toy land.”
“Well, I would rather be in toy land as a person instead of fuckin’ …nothing!” Sarra yelled.
Color faded in, a view from someone’s eyes. Yellow-gloved hands held onto a jar of sand. Its contents moved like water.
“Oh no…” Jack said.
“Who’s this?” Tench asked.
“Me, who else, you tart? This is 1970…”
The younger Jack walked briskly through the cave with Maximilian Doom by his side. He was swearing.
“How could the heroes have found Bronson? We’re a mile underground!”
“I don’t know! He must have a beacon of some kind.” Jack said.
Doom looked shocked.
“A beacon that can reveal our precise location in the middle of England?”
They saw the younger Jack throw his arms up in the air; Doom watched them, slightly panic-stricken.
“I don’t know; he’s a silly alien! Who knows what sort of tricks the gob has. ”
Max snatched the jar of oddly fluid sand from him.
“You be careful with this stuff! Bronson got this stuff for us, and it’s going to be used properly.”
The younger Jack scoffed.
“Yeah, we tortured the bloke to death; why not have him give us the stuff?”
Doom gave him the jar and looked back in the opposite direction. The hallway beyond had the sounds of crackling electricity and cries of pain. Young Jack looked back and saw flashing lights around the corner.
“That’s EnWol silver!” Tench blurted.
“What?” Lora and Sarra asked in unison.
“Look Jack,” Doom said. “You get that stuff to Slade. I’ll go back and handle the situation with that Pink Lemon and Crimson Cherry.” Young Jack watched Doom run off for a moment before hovering down the corridor.
“Jack, what is this?” Tench asked with a tone that suggested that he was disciplining a child. “You ingested the silver, didn’t you?”
The current Jack did not answer.
“What will that do, Tench?” Lora asked.
“The mirror with the perfect shine reflects the dim glare back tenfold,” the current Jack said.
The metaphor immediately clicked with Tench.
“…you took too much.”
After several minutes, the younger Jack slowed; the distant sounds of a fight were only a vague suggestion. Young Jack checked to see if he was alone, and then bent down to the ground with the sand.
“Oh Gaia, why did this have to come up?” The current Jack bemoaned. “Of all the dinky memories in this plot, why this?”
Young Jack undid the cap and took out a handful of sand. He let it go through his fingers back into its jar and grabbed another handful.
“It’s so strange…” Young Jack said.
“Don’t do it…” Current Jack moaned.
Young Jack looked up after hearing a distant click. He shrugged and looked back at the gleaming sand.
“Couldn’t hurt.”
“Yes it could! Don’t!”
The younger cupped his hands, and poured the sand into his mouth.
“What was I thinking? Stop! Stop! Stop!” The current Jack pleaded.
“That was fifty times over the normal dosage, Jack. That’s way, way too much.” Tench said.
“You shut your gob!”
The younger smacked his lips.
“Oh bollocks, it’s like sugar, but worse!” He wiped his mouth on the spandex sleeve.
“Hence, Pink Lemon.” Sarra said.
Young Jack caught sight of his hand, and stopped cold when he saw his reflection in it. He looked at the back of his hand and it started to melt. The younger Jack bolted to his feet and looked at his body. His reflective hands dribbled from the sleeves and squeezed out from the fabric. He melted to a heap on the floor before he could let out a panicked scream. His vision spread to a one hundred and eighty degree dome. He tried to move, but he simply jerked left to right, burying his yellow costume in himself.
“I stayed like that for four days… I wasn’t sure whether I was dead or not…” Current Jack said. “Serves me right for doing something stupid…”
“So why are you still evil? You could have come to Florence for help afterward.” Tench asked.
There was no reply. The younger Jack quivered, unsure of how to deal with the change.
“Normally, the gauntlets would take a snapshot of the person beforehand to help them keep their shape, but the sand itself just seems to make a straight conversion to silver. That explains your dynamic looks, Jack.” Tench said.
“You’re dead, ice man.” The current Jack did not sound sure of himself.
From the other end of the hall, a figure approached. He slowed at the puddle that was Jack and saw the jar of sand.
“Sergei Slade…” Tench said.
“Scary…” Sarra retorted.
He had a dark mane of hair and wore a silver jacket.
“Dammit, he was probably killed. How did this get unscrewed?”
“An idiot ruined her life with it, that’s what,” the current Jack croaked.
Slade screwed the jar back on and left, the younger Jack screaming for help without a sound to make.
“Jack, does Slade still have the EnWol sand?” Tench asked.
“Max Doom died at the hands of the Steel Atom here… his neck snapped when he was punched in the head…” Jack said. A great remorse filled his voice.
“Does Slade still have the EnWol sand?” Tench asked again.
There was no reply.
The full view of the corridor faded to black; and the four were immediately spit out from the eye and back to San Francisco.