A Second Generation Whateley Academy Adventure
Jailhouse Lock
by
MaLAguA
Part One
Thursday, January 12th - 3:56pm
Outside the courthouse - undisclosed city - Georgia
Hustle and bustle went about at the steps of the city’s courtroom, where a small crowd had gathered to make the situation much more tenuous than the lawkeepers would have wanted.
The people held signs carrying unflattering messages for the person being arraigned, making their dissatisfaction known, despite the knowledge that the most likely sentence would be carried out. They dressed warmly for the weather, holding their umbrellas over the few signs they had prepared. The messages–“Death to the criminal!” “Mutant! Die! Mutant!”, “Sentencing isn’t enough!” and “JUSTICE!”–painted a clear picture of the intentions of the crowd. Security was inbound and very cautious about their presence.
The local police, making sure that the unrest wouldn’t escalate past the boiling point, had formed a line between the crowds and the short path towards the reinforced police vehicle that would transport the subject to the maximum security prison. It was a position that clearly didn’t earn the men any favors other than a couple of insults and moral posturings from some of the men among the bystanders. “Why are you protecting him?!” was the most common question, one that shook some of the men in uniform, and yet they were committed to keeping the crowd from overstepping into vigilantism. The police and city definitely preferred to keep the processing of the mutant supervillains under wraps and away from the attention of the public, lest they invited unfortunate outcomes. By law, they couldn’t conduct the arraignment and subsequent trial in secret, and the remote option was rebuffed by the defense. And yet, it became all the more inconvenient when information about the trial was leaked by the defendant himself at the last minute.
Fortunately, the turnout wasn’t as bad as they had expected. The families of the victims were bound to show up, having been told about the proceedings beforehand. But the main concern was when agitators, cape fanatics, bloggers, and men from antimutant groups such as Humanity First made themselves present. The officers felt dread at the thought of a weapon ready to be drawn from among them. After all, who could resist the opportunity?
Reporters and cameramen from the local stations were at the front of the line, hoping to get the best shot of the doors. Their microphones were at the ready to catch anyone that would exit the building. They were the ones that happened to catch wind of the whispers as they spread.
“We’re standing outside of the courthouse awaiting the sentencing of Percy Scribbens, also known as Fulminant,” reported a well-dressed woman before the camera. She was standing as close to the door as the police would allow anyone. “A criminal by trade, he is a mutant capable of flight, electrical manipulation, and enhanced feats of strength–the dreaded superman style powerset enhanced by the absorption of raw electricity. Last month, he went on a power trip after stepping into a power plant that supercharged him into a serious threat, capable of going toe to toe with some of the heavy hitters of the country. The city of Athens, Georgia, was plunged into chaos for three days. His rampage was, mercifully, stopped by the appearance of superhero Gigaton from the Hero Union agency, who was able to match Fulminant blow for blow in what could be described as a destructive performance…”
She held silent to look at the doors for a moment, seemingly hearing from the person in her earpiece before carrying on. “As it currently stands, the events of last month added charges of destruction of property, assault and murder to an already long rapsheet. Yet, this is the first time he has faced the court for his crimes. The public nature of his takedown and arrest has placed him in the spotlight as another test for the judicial system.” With a quick gesture, she got the cameraman to spin around and show the disgruntled faces of the people around. “People have gathered around the steps to watch the procession that will take place after the trial concludes.”
“He’s fucking guilty!” a middle aged man spat.
“No doubt about it!” the man’s wife added.
“Yeah!”
“We want justice! Prison is too good for this scum!” another man said, echoing the words that were written on his sign. It was a sentiment that was clamored by the people around.
“Well,” the reporter said as she steered the camera away from the crowd. “Moods are high here, with people demanding justice for the damage and suffering incurred. This outcome appears to be just as likely, considering how flagrant the crimes were.” She paused to look down at her phone and scroll through some messages. “And according to our contact inside, Fulminant fired his lawyer shortly after the trial began, which shows that he really has no care on the matter and… Ah… The judge has found him guilty and sentenced to life in the Stonewall Jackson Maximum Security Correctional Facility.”
The words, while said casually, spread about in the crowd, eliciting a variety of reactions from the crowd. Only a few celebrated, the rest acted out in anger and outrage, as though nothing short of a public execution would have been accepted.
Still, with the news of the outcome and the whispers that the suspect would soon be departing, everyone prepared for the doors to open. Civilians held up their signs and tried to edge closer, while the officers held the line, being especially wary of any of the designated high-risk people reaching into their coats. Fortunately, the number hadn’t grown since the start, keeping it manageable. All they had to do was to move the criminal into the car and then drive him off to containment. Some cautious looks drifted up to the rooftops and the sky, confirming that a couple of the local heroes were present, keeping an eye on the scene, ready to jump the moment something went off.
The doors of the courthouse were pushed open revealing the main culprit: Fulminant. Tall, athletic and unfortunately handsome. An exemplar, of course. He had a model’s blonde head with charismatic features about him, like a young actor ready to play the role of a superhero in the movie. And yet, there was something in his eyes that reflected predatory malice as he cast them towards the crowd, prompting a knee-jerk flinch from those at the front. They could clearly still remember the nights of terror during his rampage, where his presence was heralded by the flashes of light that slipped from his body and his black outline standing clearly in the center of it. Even with his arms bound with reinforced cuffs and a power dampening collar fastened around his neck, he stood upright, as though disregarding his situation, especially when people began to lob insults in his way. The crowd was trying to get in closer, physically and emotionally, in turn forcing the police officers to push back.
“Careful, you don’t really want to get me annoyed, do you?” Percy goaded. “All it would take would be for a well-placed hit to the neck and boom, I’d get my powers back… So please try.” He moved down the steps and made his leisurely way to the car, appearing to savor the attention without a care in the world.
By the entrance to the building, the prosecution and the former lawyer lingered, doing the customary interviews. Even if they planned for the proceedings to go unnoticed, they were still prepared to put up the act and communicate to the people of the city that justice had been done and the menace would never see the light of the day again. A sentiment that didn’t really put the minds of the people at ease as they hoped.
And yet, there was a reporter daring enough to move to the edge of the line, reaching her hand out between the cops when their eyes were elsewhere. “Petra Sarahs from local news! Would you be willing to answer some questions?”
The criminal gave her an appreciative look. A youthful appearance, new to the job and brave enough to earn herself an interview with the criminal. He humored her request, easing up on his steps and stepping closer to the microphone.
One of the cops tried to get him to move along, but all it took was a shake of the head and a stubborn movement against the current to grant the reporter her wish. The officers instead moved themselves forward and let the woman within the perimeter as the cameraman followed from a safe distance away.
“Hey there, young missy? I’m afraid I can’t oblige you a date… I’m previously engaged, you see.” He winked.
“I’ll make it quick!” She spoke fast, seemingly having calculated the steps to the car in relation to the questions. “Reports say that you ditched your lawyer at the start of the proceedings, may I ask why?”
Percy smirked. His eyes never left Petra’s figure, going from the cleavage down to back up, yet he was still composed enough to provide an answer before she would repeat herself. “Lawyer? Good old Discount Saul was useful to get myself comfortable. Needed someone to prep the trial and fetch me some comfortable clothes before I was given the ugly prison oranges.”
“Even your clothes are too lax,” Petra noted, looking at the T-shirt, jacket and jeans he wore to his trial.
“Anyway, the start of the trial marked the end of our association. I didn’t need his defense and wasn’t about to put up a show.” He tapped the thick cuffs that fastened his arms together.
“By show, you mean trying to ask for a lesser sentence?”
“For what?” Percy laughed. “Get this. My lawyer told me he was going to claim I underwent a temporary bout of megalomaniacal insanity after my ‘accidental’ exposure to the power plant’s generator. I was to prostrate myself before them, beg for forgiveness, all so I could hope for an ‘early’ release in fifty years. Nevermind that the prosecution had recordings of me sticking my hand into the machine. If anything, I did him a favor. There was no way I was going to do the whole regretful act for nothing. Does a human have to apologize to the ants he steps on? For nothing? I’m not going to bother answering.”
“But… you’re going to be locked away for a long time. Doesn’t that concern you?” Petra stammered. “The Stonewall is a top notch security prison. Power nullifying collars. Strong arsenal. I don’t think anyone has escaped it before.”
“It’ll be amusing when I’m the first person to escape it.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Let’s just say… I have insurance,” Percy mused, now a step away from the car, having fully stopped to drag the conversation just a little more. This time leaning towards the cameraman: “In fact, if anyone is willing to collaborate, you know where to find me. The Stonewall.”
“I…” Petra stammered but Percy was quick to take the word.
“Petra, right? Do you happen to have a sister or a hot friend? How would you like a night or three of awesome the moment I get ou-”
BANG! BANG!... BANG!
In between the ruckus and protests of the citizens, the sound of a gun rang loud and clear, as did the whistling of the shots crossing the air. One of them coursed between the reporter and the criminal, narrowly missing the latter and finding home within the shoulder of a cop at the other side of the perimeter. The third shot flew off into the air, way off the mark.
The crowd reacted as they only could, in panic and fear, crouching down with their hands on their heads as the screams stuck in the throats of both men and women and they tried to scurry about or make sense of the events.
The heroes of the scene, ever vigilant, had already set themselves in motion the moment one of the men from the H1 hat reached into their coat in an aggressive way. The first shot came close to the target. The second was thrown off course as he bumped a man that had been alerted by the starting pull of the trigger. By the time the shooter recovered and tried to pull the trigger a third time, a man dressed in heroic white and blue had appeared by his side, pulling the weapon upwards to release the bullet before performing the takedown.
A laugh escaped Percy, as he saw that, in between the dispersing crowd, which included the reporter and cameraman, now ushered away from the police. “Thank you! Thank you! Lovely times here! I’ll be sure to be back!” he mocked as the officers forced him into the back of the car and quickly drove him off to The Stonewall.
A month prior…
Thursday, December 23rd - 10:50pm
Syndicate rental base, designation ‘Swampy Drummer’- Marion County, Florida
“Do you have any idea of who I am!? You can’t do this! Not to me!” The voice came in through the video, showing a forty-something man bound to a lone chair in the middle of a vacant space within a box of bars. He was spared from the darkness by the fluorescence of the screens that hung out of view.
“I thought I would enjoy hearing him scream more…” The man in the control room thought before muting the surveillance video and swiping the other displays to show more of the current operations. One last check.
A screen showed the stock trends of a company named Trireme, a conglomerate that dealt in property trade and security. So far, the tendency was towards growth, having recently celebrated their new CEO taking over the reins of the job. A man that appeared to be well connected, well spoken, but not without his own fair share of scandalous allegations and rumors. Still, that didn’t stop his rise to success, up to the position he found himself in right now: bound and tied within a Syndicate rental base in the marshlands.
To that point, another group of screens displayed several of the buildings that belonged to the business group, under the ongoing downpour. A few of them were offices of operations, but the majority were empty in the attempt to push the city into more and more desperation, hoping to force them to accept the next price offered. All of them were targets.
A nice view, he thought as a groan escaped his lips. He lifted himself to his feet with a groan using a cane. The last decade of activity had taken a toll on his body. The poor sleep, the sour mood, the hatred that festered within him, had left him gaunt and physically emaciated. Physically, he was a mess, but that came mostly from last month’s incident back in Miami, where a shotgun blast had struck his leg. Were it not for the exoskeleton he wore, he would’ve lost the limb then and there. But alas, that was one of the things he had to suffer. Public villainy was a game for the young or the athletically fit, and he knew for certainty that he’d been awfully lucky to have made it this far up to this point in his early sixties.
“But this is the last time… Tonight, I can put this behind me,” he thought as he took off his helmet It was a smooth piece of equipment, with no discernible features on its own outside of a concealed visor revealed at the right angle. The insides were laden with circuitry and bright with the display, he wasn’t going to miss wearing it on a Florida summer day.
So close… So close. His thoughts were lost in anticipation as he turned to the unchanging screens.
There was a long moment before he heard the beep from his tablet, the one that came with the base with links to any of the pieces of tech provided by his benefactors. The sound announced a message from the hired henchmen.
“Boss,” began the message under the title HL, henchmen leader. “All twenty-five employees have made it to the road and are now taking off in the designated vehicles. As part of the Syndicate’s Force-for-Rent program, we give you thanks for your patronage and your proper guidance.”
“No problem. Right… it’s time to close the shop,” he muttered to himself, swiping the message off, before swiping the camera back to the feed of the bound man. “There’s just one thing left. One last loose end.”
With that, he set the tablet down and popped open a drawer to reveal a revolver. A homecoming gift for renting the base, it was something he hadn’t used but had found himself often fidgeting with like a toy. With a flick of the wrist, he opened the revolving chamber and had it spin. As much as he’d dreamed of this, he had no idea what would happen next. Would it be one bullet he needed to load or two? Or maybe none at all.
“I’ll decide on the way,” he said with an air of lax victory as he tapped the tablet, prompting the schematics of a precarious-looking automaton. It was thin enough to resemble a basic endoskeleton but, as he’d come to learn, surprisingly sturdy and resilient, almost like a Terminator. It’d be scary if they weren’t awfully thin, sporting a rust-colored coating and the goofy-looking camera lens face, making them resemble some droid out of Star Wars.
“Attention, droids, we’re preparing to close the base, finish the last patrol before retiring back into your storage stations…” His voice trailed off when he noticed something off, a small red space in the corner where the counter “13/24” could be read.
“All drones present, ping back status report,” he ordered, only to see the number go down to twelve.
The reports began to come in,and yet, by the time the number went down to eleven, the base’s alarm had begun to blare out as the lights in the surroundings were painted with a red light!
The base was compromised. The man sighed inwardly as he swiped to cycle through the cameras via the tablet. What he found was, predictably, shots of the broken down droids in a pathway that led in his direction. Switch by switch, the trail carried on, revealing broken torsos and sparking limbs until flashes of fire blasts could be spied around the corner. This camera happened to be very close to the command center, where he was now.
And before he could swipe one more screen closer to his position, a pop-up filled a chunk of the screen.
[It seems as though the base has been compromised.” The text read. “Should we start purging the data? (The process should take about 10 to 15 minutes.)]
[Yes / No (Be mindful that penalties may be accrued for choosing this option)]
And that was punctuated by the sound of a fight that followed just outside of the control room. The two droids posted as security were engaging the intruders. And judging by how things were going, he would have twenty to thirty seconds.
The words ‘End of the line’ were prominent in his head. He didn’t even consider the options, he just pressed ‘YES’ before throwing the tablet into a random drawer within one of the secondary stations and slammed it shut. He knew he had no chance to contest an opposing force and make it out. Plans, plans and plans were what he excelled at, not the moment of execution. And, truth be told, he had nothing past this point.
“Execute command: Curtain call,” he ordered the helmet, getting a beeping response as the light of the visor faded. All sorts of functions, incriminating data and recordings stored within the memory of its CPU and that of its suit were emptied and deleted beyond any conceivable use outside of being paperweights. His busted leg certainly felt the pressure as his exoskeleton shut down.
He hobbled back to the main table to grab a lone item that appeared out of place within the space: a simple locket, a memento of the old life he used to have and what he wished could be. That thought almost got his fighting spirit back on as his hand was reaching for the revolver when…
Crash!
A fiery explosion blew the doors out, sending a wave of heat through the room. The man backed away and covered up as a reflex.
By the time he opened his eyes, he found himself within the line of sight of an assault rifle and a laser weapon; they would’ve been ready to pull the triggers had he managed to snatch the gun.
Though, by this point, it was the same either way.
“Techno Revenant.” The woman with the laser weapon looked like a crocodile wrangler from down south, with the exception of the techie belt around her waist. “You’re under arrest for destruction, mayhem, kidnapping and, over all, being a villain. Now put your hands where I can see them!”
The villain didn’t really fight. He just complied, slowly raising his hands.
“There’s more to that…” said a young man with bright red hair standing behind the other two. Waving his arms to let clinging flames die out, there was no doubt he was the fire manipulator responsible for the explosion.
“We’ll leave the cops to sort that out…” said the woman as she and the other young man, the one wielding the assault rifle, approached the villain with wary steps.
“At ease. I’m not armed…” he said. “And my suit is no longer functional.” With the shut down command, it was just a support suit with no offensive capabilities… but, of course, they would still take it as a threat.
“We’ll see about that.” The woman then proceeded to check and rip the vambraces off his arms, tossing them aside before inspecting his pockets. For a second, he was worried they would snatch the locket that now hung around his neck, or turn around and start searching the drawers, but they were too worried about his perceived weapons to care. “Think that’s about it…”
“Can’t believe we captured the Techno Revenant!” The fiery hero laughed. “You’re our first supervillain captured!”
“But this was too easy,” said the third guy. “Is this the real Techno Revenant?”
“Don’t ruin it for us! This’ll be the talk of the holidays. Bet we’ll get a lot of cred when we go to the Heroes United event in Washington. We’ll be there in time.” The woman exclaimed, high-fiving her teammate. “We caught the Techno Revenant!” She added an inflection in the name to make it sound more menacing.
All the villain could do was grimace, and not just because he didn’t have his cane to alleviate the pain in his leg. He quite despised the name Techno Revenant. Cheesy, grim and rather depressing, as a reflection of this thing he’d become. But it was a prerequisite for applying for the type of help that allowed him to make it this far into his goals. “The name is Seth Millar. The Techno Revenant has been retired as of tonight.”
The fiery hero then looked at Seth with a mocking grin. “You don’t get to pull the ‘I quit’ move just when we beat you. You’ll be put away for a long time.”
“Do you know why people resort to being criminals?” Seth began. “It’s because they seek to accomplish something that is outside of the limits of the law. Law that is determined to protect the wicked, and denying rest to my heart… My life would be different if the right hero and the good cop had been there to aid me… But alas, I have nothing left in me. Do you think I have a chance at peace? I tried it, and this is where I’ve been brought to.”
“Is this how villains monologue?” the woman said before surprisingly swinging her gun against Seth’s face, sending him to the ground. “You’re nothing but scum, so you better accept your defeat in despair.”
He imagined this sort of thing would happen to him when he was caught, but that didn’t mean he had to enjoy the pain. “I’m just making an observation,” he managed to say. “I have no real care of what comes after now that I have done what I set out to accomplish.”
“What a sore loser. The type that acts as though nothing matters when they lose.” She turned around, about to say something, but her eyes went over to the screens as the grin about her grew wider. She gave a two-fingered wave, prompting the villain to humor her and watch as two police officers appeared within the shot of the hostage’s room and going quickly to work on the restraints. Two more could be spotted standing at the threshold of the command room, having followed the heroes. “Your kidnapping days are over and so is your plot to detonate electrobombs within the city. Bet you wish you hadn’t tried those test runs in the law firm and the police station last week!”
“What do you mean my plot is over?” Seth asked, mentally counting the minutes. He hoped that the shutdown of the lair would take just a bit longer than the average estimate because, in that moment, he saw figures lumber into the entrances of each of the buildings, taking janky steps that were unnatural for a normal human… but convincing for someone drunk.
“Yeah, we stormed your base, destroyed your robots, captured you… that’s it. Your message said that, at an hour before midnight you would set and detonate your bombs…” the vigilante with the rifle said. He sounded like a smartass. “But earlier today the buildings were searched and none were found, and you can’t go over and place them now that we got you.”
“I see the confusion…” Seth said, still from his position on the ground, wary of the armed heroes. Fortunately, the cops appeared to have enough standards to be mindful no abuses were committed. “I sent the message just so evacuations would be made… I sent my envoys to the location an hour ago to bring it all down…”
“Your…”
“… envoys?” The two loudmouth heroes turned their eyes to the surveillance feeds. While most of the locations appeared tranquil on account of being abandoned, the security storehouse, which held most of Trireme’s arsenal, was full of action. Members of the team designated to stay and act as guard dogs now fled scared of something that none could see…
And a moment later, a strange flashing strobe could be seen through the windows on the first floor and the camera feed felt the effects of sudden static. The lights on the streets flickered and struggled as the sentiment was mirrored by the stormy sky. Flashes grew brighter just as the ground grew dark. Suddenly, the biggest lightning bolt pierced the sky and came crashing down through the building, striking the surface and splitting through into the center as an ethereal explosion expanded from the center, carving through every bit of the structure with raw electric power. The video feed was forced into static as the hidden cameras were demolished.
And the same thing repeated with all the other buildings on the screens. One by one, the sky spasmed in conjunction with each of the electrobombs until a bright destructive flash obliterated the outlines and the cameras died.
He could see the man within the hostage feed scream as the officers tried to free him. Seth could almost hear it. And he could see the looks of shock from the heroes that just a minute ago boasted about having stopped his plans.
“I’m sorry, this didn’t go the way you thought,” Seth continued as he sat against the wall. “If it’s any consolation… you still have me. I just have little interest in the world of heroes and villains, not anymore…” Seth looked away, wishing he had his cane just to have something to grasp. The last decade of his crusade had been exhausting and trying. Now that he’d reached the end, a breath of relief escaped him… even if all hell was about to start. “When I want something, I set myself to it, no matter what. Luckily for you… I have no other wants…”
And with that, the master tablet was done purging the system and bricked itself, resulting in the lights and screens flashing blue before turning dark.
A month prior…
Monday, November 19th- 8:56pm
Cargo Docks - Miami, Florida
Late at night, within the maze-like landscape that was the cargo docks, movement was happening where normally stillness would be expected. Within a section deep inside its boundaries yet just a turn away from gazing out into the ocean, a group of men stood before one of the cargo containers. They watched with anticipation as the torch cutter made sparks flew off the door.
Two factions stood together in dark collaboration.
On one hand, there was a group of men dressed in the stereotypical thug uniform. They wore dark brown hoodies, bulky enough to conceal body armor, a green scarf around their necks to symbolize their allegiance, and a holdouts at hand. For the most part, that meant blunt weapons, but two were carrying handguns.
On the other, there was a retinue of automatons, standard droids seemingly made out of junk. They were thin in appearance with the exception of a few that were built stronger and bulkier. They stood in a perfect line awaiting orders, with a pair guarding a submersible boat that was large enough to harbor the two parties and the cargo.
At the container, a man vested in an exoskeleton armor was focused at work on the power tool, his smooth helm reflecting the light of the sparks along the protective visor at a height where the eyes would be. The Techno Revenant. A villain who’d risen to prominence in the region over the past decade for his apparently unstoppable plots. Robbery, destruction of property, kidnapping, extortion and sometimes even murder; those were his hallmarks. Even when a wrench was thrown into the works, his goal was accomplished in the end. And all of that without any intention to brag about his deeds.
And yet, that was probably the most appealing thing about him. Someone with no need to boast over how many superheroes he’d pissed off, someone with a relatively low body count, someone who treated all of this as just a business. No added pomp or ceremony, straight to the point. The perfect person to collaborate with, and yet he seldom agreed to do anything outside his nebulous objective.
Behind him, a man of dark skin stood with his arms crossed, the only member of the human faction who’d decided to forego the hood, opting instead for a brown and green cowl that made him stand apart from his team. No one needed to guess who the lieutenant of the operation might be.
“How’s it going?” asked Luther Stone, known for the operation as Stones. He was looking back in the direction of the city.
“It should be done soon,” Techno Revenant stated.
Interested in not letting the conversation down, Stones carried on. “You’re also after those high-power electrical crystal batteries, right?”
“That was part of the agreement,” Techno Revenant mused dryly. “High power pieces of equipment. Designed to hold a good charge and capable of exercising great and constant output once they complete the circuitry.”
“You know your stuff.”
“Of course…” Techno Revenant said. “I am… I was an electrical and energy engineer. I know my trade perfectly. Do you know the concerns and dangers with these units?”
“Yeah,” Stones said. “Heard they’re incredibly unstable… Especially on stormy nights . But we’ll work on something for that. We don’t plan on using them as bombs.”
“Hm…” was all Techno Revenant said. It would’ve been concerning to Stones, making him want to ask when and where the explosions would take place. But apparently, the man in the power armor had disclosed the plans with Stones’ own boss prior to the collaboration and deemed it a worthy alliance.
“So…” he continued trying to get the conversation going. “Those robots look… interesting? Not exactly the fanciest pieces of tech.” That was practically the reason for the alliance. Their group had the intel of the delivery and contacts to make sure the container would be placed where it was and the Techno Revenant had the proper means to efficiently cut through and transport the unstable materials. “Syndicate-built, right?”
“That is correct. Made by a gadgeteer known as Junkerer… They are serviceable and deceptively strong.”
“Junkerer? Isn’t he the one that works with recycled materials?”
“That would not surprise me.”
“Something we respect is an environmental mindset,” Stones noted. “Our boss is also affiliated with the organization, but we only have the basic membership. It would be great if we had an account with the gear or automaton service.”
“My first big jobs were done to cover the expenses,” Techno Revenant replied.
“And what got you into this line of business? Mine was to make the earth cleaner for the people I love.”
The Techno Revenant held his silence for a moment, letting only the sound of the sea breeze and the sizzling of the cutting tool be heard. Eventually, though, he answered. “Someone took something from me. Something important.”
“And you want revenge?” Stones said. “Hows that going?”
“I’m getting closer to it…” Techno Revenant said as he finished cutting the last of the safeties. Stepping back, he let Stones put in the muscle to pull the door open, an action that got cheers from the henchmen.
“Celebrate later. Get these out first,” Techno Revenant hissed as he tapped the controller on his vambrace. The droids booted up and raised their heads in synchronized motion before taking steps to lift the cargo.
“A clean getaway,” Stones smirked.
“Don’t count your luck so early,” Techno Revenant warned. “The only moment to let another thing occupy your mind is once the door to your base is closed.”
“Come on. You don’t believe in jinxi–” Unfortunately, he was cut short by one of his lookouts running their way from around the corner, waving their green scarf as the signal that law enforcement was in the area.
The villain’s head slowly turned towards Stones. The helmet was as plain as it could be, but the feeling of a glare was apparent.
“You know what? Fine. My bad,” Stones said with a tinge of frustration as he moved his arms and legs, warming up as he took strides away. “I’ll try to delay them as much as possible. You all keep on working. Start the engine for the getaway vehicle. We’ll get the boss what he requested!”
His men agreed and set to work. Some prepared cover, others stood guard on the different avenues of approach, and the rest got the pathway to the boat ready. All the while, Techno Revenant directed the robots to march in line. From a single glance, it didn’t seem as though the transfer would take them long.
“We just need fifteen minutes. We can handle this,” he told the two men that followed him, one of them being the warning issuer. “We move around, pull off distractions and then circle back for the retreat. Is it just the cops?”
“There was also a hero backing them…”
“Just…” Stones grimaced. “Great… just great…”
Stones and his men fanned out in an effort to set up the distraction, smashing against the metallic containers to draw the cops into different directions, just so Stones could jump in and take down the split forces…
That was the plan, but before he could jump in, a figure dressed in white and black leapt up to his level above the containers. The inbound hero! he realized just as the stranger jumped in to engage, landing a kick that threatened to send him to the ground below. He could already tell that this wouldn’t be an easy encounter.
Now that the plan was out the window, Stones’ focus moved on to salvaging the situation. He had to head back and make sure that as many of his men and the boss’s quarry would make it out safely. All for the wellbeing of the earth, as it was the banner that joined them all in this crusade.
With that in mind, he resolved to fight. Losing no time picking himself up, raising his arms and in the process coating themselves in manifested rock to give himself hard sandstone boxing gloves. Elbows up, he threw a couple of jabs in an effort to dissuade his opponent.
There was nothing eerier than an opponent with no expression. With the featureless black and white cowl covering his face, sizing his opponent’s reaction was incredibly difficult, but he clearly wasn’t retreating as he raised up his own hands to meet his challenge.
“Great…” Stones growled inwardly as he rushed in for the attack.
Of course, this was never meant to be a duel to the death. Not by a longshot. From that first kick Stones received, he could tell that his opponent was strong, at the same level as him, at least, and there was no doubt that reinforcements would be coming his way, be it in the form of other heroes or the police.
So, during the third barrage of the duel, as swings were delivered, traded, and parried, the hero was surprised when his opponent jumped back while thrusting his hands out. Shards of manifested rock shot out in a surprise move that forced the hero to block as the shards exploded off into sand and dust clouds. It wasn’t much, really, but it bought Stones the chance to disengage and escape.
He rushed his way down the metal maze’s corridors as fast as his steps would take him, having a couple of run-ins against the cops along the way. Fortunately, in all those cases, he came out on top due to the surprise factor. By the time they spotted him, he was already bringing the fist down to send them up into the metal walls of the containers.
Gunshots were heard in the distance, as were energy discharges and the clanging of bullets hitting metal, near the edge of the water. The cops had reached the operation area.
The situation hadn’t turned out any easier for Techno Revenant and Stones’ team, with the police emerging from around the corner, spotting the droids as armed individuals and opening fire. But much as would be expected from firing a gun at a Terminator, the bullets were but a minor inconvenience, triggering their self-defense protocols. They responded with electrified shots back in the direction of the officers.
Fortunately, by this point, the last of the batteries was in the process of being transported towards the boat. Soon they would be out… soon…
And then, as always, karma threw a wrench in the plans of the criminals as a loud blast broke the air. The characteristic pellets of a shotgun struck the joint of the heavy duty droid that was carrying the battery, at just the right angle and with just the right force to break the unit’s leg and force it to kneel. Fortunately, its protocols prioritized the cargo’s integrity. Otherwise it all would have ended in a nasty electric explosion for those involved.
But that didn’t solve the problem, especially when the shooter had already cocked his weapon and proceeded to open fire after a retreating Techno Revenant. The salvo hit him squarely in the leg, with a nasty ring of metal, a sizzle of electricity and the sound of a broken bone for those of keen hearing. The techno villain fell to the ground and left himself open for the incapacitating or, rather, killing shot the officer appeared to be going after.
And that was when Stones emerged from the nearby pathway, slamming his fist into the cop’s face before wrestling the shotgun out of his hands and diving off to the side so the officers behind wouldn’t hit him.
“Stones!” some of his men called out.
“Get going!” Stones ordered from his cover, putting his protected limb out and blindly shooting off some of the manifested sandstone. The damage would be meager and the aim was pathetic, but the cops took the sand clouds to be more dangerous than they actually were. “Start the engine!” he commanded.
And his men heeded the order, stepping in to pick up the last remaining box as best as they could with the help of another droid whilst another one moved in to help the crippled Techno Revenant retreat.
The plan appeared to be working. It was going to work. It had to. But heroes always had to come on top, unfortunately for Stones. Out of nowhere, the white-clad hero leapt into action, kicking him out of cover and into the fray.
It was by sheer fortune that the officers held their fire, but only because Stones’ opponent had pressed the attack and engaged him in hand to hand combat. He tried to fight, refusing to go down easy, turning around and swinging the enlarged fists seeking to connect… but it was useless. The hero was in his blindspot, and the attempt to fight back was met with a flurry of punishing strikes culminating with a throw down to the ground, an impact strong enough to disrupt his control over his powers and have the world begin to fade.
“Stones!” As the lights returned to him, he saw some of his men trying to move in and around cover, with guns ready to step in.
“Go!” Stones screamed as loud as he could. “Leave me!” And then his face was pulled back and slammed against the concrete, ringing him like a bell.
As he went in and out of consciousness, everything came in flashes. He saw the cops moving past him, opening fire that rang distant to him as his men began the retreat. He saw the fallen head of a heavy-duty droid begin to the glow of a red warning. It was enough to get the cops to back away… and the last thing he remembered was a fountain of sparks that erupted from its chassis, with the cops bracing themselves before the brightness swallowed everything.
“Sorry, Debbie…” Stones said as he was hoisted up and three sets of handcuffs bound his wrists behind his back.
Tuesday, January 25th - 4:56pm
Syndicate offices - Portland, Oregon
Beneath downtown Portland lay the offices of the Syndicate branch corresponding to the American West Coast. Despite the noise and activity that went on above, the space down there was quiet and sanitized, with help from the steel and concrete surfaces making up the corridors. The occasional signage kept anyone from getting lost or taking a wrong turn into a section where they had no clearance.
One of the signs pointed to the bureaucratic side of the office. The double doors of an elevator were there to lead anyone up into the rented office building which served as a front for their operations. Caroline Kythe could almost hear the sound of the clacking of the keyboards, the mumble of voices and the ringing of phones on one side belonging to the administrative staff. Only the most dedicated of bureaucrats and administrators took it upon themselves to handle the support aspects of the job: service design, marketing, accounting and a ton of logistical planning.
In a way, Caroline wished that she could join them in a similar line of work. It would be nice just to have a simple job away from all of this. Doing menial tasks in the standard schedule before finishing and going home, without any of the concerning implications that could arise from such decisions. But at the same time, she felt as though she wouldn’t be able to make the difference she wanted… even if she was working for the “bad” guys.
How did she get herself in this position? She wondered in the small moments of hindsight and contemplation within the quiet hallway. A long trail of steps and a search for meaning led her down here. She’d sold her soul to the devil and now found herself as its retainer. At least that’s what she hoped. Hero or Villain, both were just labels based on public perception. As long as she could protect those in need, as long as she could deny as many cruel ones as she could, and as long as she could minimize the victims, she would focus on the task at hand with her own heart in peace.
And that’s what brought her to this point, where she stood before the meeting room where the division’s director had summoned her.
How long had it been? Three years since she began work in this new unexpected career path? From the rather troublesome and painful struggles in the beginning, she’d managed to claw her way to her current position, where she’d managed to convince most of the members in the facility that she wasn’t some sort of undercover operation. She now found herself with a ranking within the criminal organization, enough to have clearance to some of the Syndicate’s secrets, henchmen assistants, and much more liberty than before.
She shifted the holotablet in her arms and took a deep breath before using the control panel to open the door to the meeting room. A couple of taps on the wall requested the attention of the occupants.
“You called for me?” she excused.
“Ah, Lifeward. Please, step in,” the man said in a professional manner. For the head of a criminal organization, Director Cormoran appeared a peaceful person… even skittish at times. Story had it that he used to be a supervillain’s lieutenant, in charge of logistical planning and funding, before the Syndicate offered him the chance to strike on his own after they realized that he was the only reason that villain was successful. Focused on the money, it was as though his heart was never in the mission of world domination that most people imagined the organization had, he tended to make decisions on the safer side. It was something that gave Caro some peace of mind.
“Well, if it isn’t our heroine.” And there was another voice which did not. Standing at the other side of the table was the man known as Laureate. He didn’t bother to look up from his own holotablet, at most giving Lifeward a sneering side eye. No point in calling him out on it; the man held an elevated position within the organization, even higher than hers. His presence roused both concern and frustration for her, which put him as a major threat. Especially as his view of the Syndicate was more of a stereotypical one.
“Am I interrupting anything?”
“It’s nothing.” The director tapped onto his own tablet to dismiss the images from the hologram protector at the center of the ringed table. “We were just debating the aftermath of the ‘Heroes United’ event. You wouldn’t happen to have any insight on the matter, would you?”
“I heard that it roused some attention and crowd. So maybe it was a success?” Lifeward said.
“If your ex-husband decides to set up an office here, we may have to be wary.” Laureate scoffed. “Not that the Syndicate can’t run operations in cities with heroes.”
“I can assure you that Heroes United tends to worry more about the threats that can be seen rather than the ones that aren’t.” Lifeward shook her head. “I heard that the one that took place here was less than stellar.”
“Yes, I heard about that. There are some photos circulating around New Year’s Eve captioned: ‘A return to Safety’.” Even Laureate’s laugh mocked. “Care to explain?
“He is still the father of my child. I showed up so she could say ‘hi’,” Lifeward said dryly. Best to keep quiet on the full details of the incident, but the publicly known ones distracted well enough. “I happened to run into some of his acolytes doing improper things and taught them a lesson. That news probably put a damper on the event’s reputation.”
“Hm… If this hero group decides to stake its flag into Portland, we should consider using Lifeward as an inside agent,” Laureate suggested to the director, but the other man raised his hand to settle the matter.
“We can table that for later. If it becomes a bigger source of concern,” the director said. “You’ve just come back from an assignment, yes? What was it?”
“A recruiting assignment.” Lifeward tapped on the tablet, connecting it to the display systems of the room to show some of the logs on the site. This time, it was mostly datasheets and maps. “The person of interest was a young runaway energizer mutant from Louisiana capable of throwing some types of powers into overdrive… mostly energizers, wizards and some warper type abilities. He was on the run while also being hunted by a small group of villains that hoped to use him to power themselves up.”
“I heard of that,” Laureate said as he tapped on his own tablet to have a report on display. “I just got a complaint about you meddling in their operation. Something that I find particularly irking if not needless, as you were supposed to scout and report back, and not to butt heads with our clients.”
“Scouting is just the first step and you should know this, Laureate,” Lifeward said, trying not to scoff. “The ultimate goal is to extend the offer to the person of interest.”
“It is irrelevant. Whether he were to fall into the clutches of this group or ours, it would be the same.”
“I chose the most sensible option,” Lifeward stated. “It’s best to invite them rather than treat it as a sort of slave transaction between third parties.”
“Did you at least get him to sign a contract? Agree to join us when he becomes of age? Send him to Whateley?” The director asked.
“I extended the invitation and left it up to him to consider it after I rescued him from the kidnappers.”
“You left him to consider it?” Laureate scoffed. “Find it unlikely we’ll hear from him again.”
Lifeward couldn’t really add much to that. She counted it as a blessing that not many kids were signing the sponsorship contract. It was either those that had grown up within this side of the law, the ones with a bit of wickedness to them, or those unfavorably desperate that would do it.
“Only the dumb ones refuse the Syndicate’s offer for generosity,” Laureate completed his thought before looking over to Lifeward with a sneer. “At least, I take it you haven’t picked up another stray… right?”
“Fortunately, the kid had a nearby relative that was willing to take him in. I gave him my card to call me in case anything happens… But I won’t take it personally if he doesn’t.” The last part was mostly to herself.
“See?! This is the problem with her,” Laureate pointed out. “She takes the emotional route instead of the more practical one.”
“What’s wrong with trying to not coerce children?”
“Children should do as told; they don’t know better. Maybe some of them could be better operatives if taken in from an early age,” Laureate said dismissively. “Much like they do in Whateley.”
“I haven’t been to Whateley in a while, but I sure hope they just teach what’s needed without a sway of the moral pendulum.”
“Suit yourself…” Laureate scoffed. “But since we’re already talking on the subject. Let’s talk about this Victor kid under your care.”
Lifeward frowned inwardly. “You’re paying attention to the sponsored kids now?”
“Well, it’s by my authorization that he’s in Whateley. It is by my agreement that his tuition is paid. So, in a sense, his life belongs to me. I believe I should be taking more interest in this sort of matter.” Laureate swiped on the tablet to reveal reports that she’d already seen. “For example, this just came in from the school. Your boy is developing a GSD, can’t say I didn’t notice it through the Silent Mountain feeds, but the updates are quite telling. Did you know about this?”
“He began to develop it in November. I had the school monitor the progress until it was certain,” Lifeward said factually.
“Did you know this was the case when he signed the contract?”
“No. As I said, I found out at the same time he did,” Lifeward repeated.
“Tsk tsk tsk… That’s a shame. Perhaps a re-evaluation is needed. Since having a visible GSD does take away some of his already meager value.”
“I bet the board would love to hear you say that.”
“That is different,” Laureate scoffed.
“How about we present the case to them?” Lifeward hoped her voice didn’t come across as too dry as she bottled the concern and frustration in her.
Laureate shrugged. “Because that’s your go-to tactic? Just call for the manager?”
“I really doubt focusing on children is the best use of my time,” the director interrupted, the displeasure in his voice quite palpable to both of them. “Laureate, the money for all the kids was approved before the start of the year, at Lifeward’s insistence; it’s already separated in the budget and accounting. You cannot make alterations to a contract without a good reason. We’re way above concerning ourselves with the well-being of the sponsored kids.”
“I… I understand.” Laureate forced himself to concede to his superior.
After a pause, Lifeward spoke up as she disconnected her tablet from the display. “As to the reason I was summoned. I understand there is an assignment for me.”
“Right. Right. The report topic got derailed…” the director said, with a hint of accusation towards Laureate. He adjusted himself in his seat, looking up at the other man. “Laureate procured a special order for ROSE.”
“And we thought that this might be around your wheelhouse,” Laureate completed, with that smirk which put Lifeward in an uneasy mind. A tap on his tablet had the holographic display at the center of the room play a clip from a news report about a recent incident. Phone-recorded footage of a man bursting with energy crossing the sky, leaving destruction in his wake. “Have you heard of the Fulminant rampage down in Georgia?”
“I have,” Lifeward said, at just the moment when the recording showed a figure crashing into the supervillain on the last day of his rampage. The two sent themselves down, into, and through a building, which promptly collapsed. Lasers or beam blasts erupted through the wreckage, one of them coming dangerously close to the camera before the two figures took off back into the sky to continue the destructive fight.
“I figured you might have.” Laureate paused the footage at the end of the fight, where a bruised hero held a knocked out villain by the neck over the wreckage of a building. “After all, it was your ex-husband who took down Fulminant. Though far from cleanly. The city suffered millions of dollars in material damage and the fight resulted in the deaths of eight civilians, with about seventy injured. A good portion of them came from the three buildings that crumbled during their scuffle.”
Lifeward stiffened at the recounting. It was something that Laureate perceived. “I presume this must cut really close home to you. Watching your husband’s attempts at saving the day resulting in rather grievous collateral damage.”
“It does,” Lifeward admitted before returning with a polite glare. “So I’ll ask you to get to the point.”
“Hmph… Alright.” Laureate tapped on the tablet, now bringing up an ‘interview’ Fulminant gave as he was being escorted to the police patrol, right after the sentence had been given. He took a pause from leering at the young woman interviewing him and gave a look to the camera.
“I have insurance. In fact. If anyone is willing to collaborate, you know where to find me. The Stonewall.” And with that, the video was posed, frozen in his smug face.
“Your mission, Lifeward, is to extract Fulminant from prison.”
“Is it a recruitment assignment?” Lifeward asked. If the matter was an internal recruitment, then it would be up to her criteria to deem the man too dangerous to join any operation with the Syndicate.
“No. It’s a service request,” Laureate stated.
Lifeward frowned as she swiped on her tablet and typed down the villain’s name on the list of clients. “Unfortunately, he doesn’t hold the ‘GOJa’ (get out of jail) benefit. He hasn't even subscribed to any of our services.”
“No… but one of our paying clients has taken up Fulminant’s offer and is willingly giving up their own GOJa in his stead,” Laureate swiped his tablet and the formal request appeared in Lifeward’s own. “The issuer of the request is a Nebraska villain interested in a team-up.”
A quick search for the issuer revealed they were a rather powerful mutant classified as a destructive type after recently getting close to razing a settlement and the woods around. Someone that probably shared the same anarcho-hedonistic views as Fulminant. A potential cataclysm in the making.
“I refuse,” Lifeward said as she swiped away and began to sift through the list of clients. “ROSE is a wide division, have someone else from a different region take over.”
“Aw, is it too much of a consequence for the former hero?” Even when he held a formal tone, she could still feel the laugh behind that smirk.
“I didn’t sign up for destruction and casualty,” Lifeward said, quickly scrolling through, opening and closing files. To Laureate it would just appear that she was emotionally distancing herself from the matter.
“Get over yourself,” Laureate snapped. “You are a member of the Syndicate now.”
“With stipulations. When I joined, I pointed out that I wouldn’t take on morally dark jobs. Murder and the like.”
“This isn’t an assassination. It’s a retrieval,” Laureate scoffed. “Or are you too hung up with your own personal tragedy to do a job that is within the permitted limit?”
“The outcome comes close to being.”
“Who is more apt to deal with the assignment than one of our better operatives?” the director said. While Lifeward hoped he would back her side, he instead appeared to have been preemptively convinced of the endeavor. Things made more sense when she noticed the extra money the claimant attached to the request to get it done right away.
“It’s an order, Lifeward,” Laureate said disingenuously. “It’s within the conditions set by you. So you either go on and release Fulminant from the heavy duty prison in Georgia… or you’ll take the penalty of status, which is already saying something after derailing the year-end proceedings. We’ll have someone else handle it regardless.”
“How can I do it? It would be like me enabling the person that crashed the building on Sophie years back… I-I can’t…” Lifeward wanted to say as she scrolled down her tablet, her eyes reading recent news and client details with haste. Any sign of weakness would be something Laureate would latch on to.
“The Stonewall has quite a few empowered criminals within, not to mention the regular stock baselines… perhaps the task should be given to a more heavy handed operative, Typhoon or Necromonger would put on a good show… Destruction that would release a ton of criminals off into the streets, ready to join our forces. It’s not like even Lifeward’s idealistic finesse can make this a victimless execution. Too realistic for her, right?”
“...I’ll do it.” Lifeward said, prompting both men to look her way.
“Huh?” Laureate blinked. “You will take the assignment?”
“If it’s the only way to keep the situation from becoming needlessly destructive and bringing in the attention of more heroes into our operations, I’ll take the lead on the assignment,” Lifeward said, bitterness slipping through her voice. “But I’ll need some time to prepare and gather a team.”
“The issuer of the request asked for a week.”
“Three days of preparation should do.” Lifeward tapped her tablet to connect it back into the holographic display. “I’ll gather a team and break Fulminant out of prison. In fact… I’ll take it a step further.” With a swipe, two more profiles were added into the display next to the original target. One of a black man dressed in a brown and green cowl, and the other of a masked individual clad in a power armor which, with a swipe shifted to reveal the more recent image in the database, one that belonged to an older caucasian man in the process of getting his mugshot taken. “I’ll also break these two out from the same prison. I take it that should protect me from you trying to threaten me with a penalty any time soon.”
“These two?” Laureate said curiously, leaning in closer to skim the profiles on the display. “Techno Revenant has invested in us a decent amount, but he doesn’t have the escape clause.”
“He’s invested enough to consider this a benefit. Plus, he’s rumored to have accrued a very sizable amount of wealth from his last operation. The benefit can be asked on the spot, can’t it?” Lifeward said.
“Hm… And what of this one?” He pointed at the other profile, one of a man that went by Stones. “He’s just a henchman. He doesn’t get the benefits.”
“He is, but his boss, Barret, put in an extraction request for him months ago. However, due to him being a low level investor, it was placed at the bottom of the priority list.” Lifeward tapped the screen one last time to close the display and disconnect her tablet. “Since I’m already dealing with this location, I might as well save us the effort of making multiple trips.”
“I don’t see a problem with that. If you can do this, the interruption on New Year will be forgotten.” the director said, much to Laureate’s exasperation.
“You’re too generous, sir…. Fine… Fine,” Laureate conceded. “What matters is that you get Fulminant out of the prison. You better not try something against the parameters of the mission.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Lifeward said, glancing at the door. “May I take my leave? I have some preparations to make and a team to gather.”
“You may,” the director said.
“Good luck…” Laureate said with a hint of sarcasm. “And remember, any person lost in a prison extraction is automatically considered disavowed.”
Lifeward didn’t answer; she simply made a polite bow before taking her leave of the room.
Tuesday, January 25th - 8:21pm
Rooftops of Portland
“I was just saying…” a girl at the other end of the line mused. “I kinda want to watch this movie.”
“I heard of it! I’ve been literally dying to watch it,” another girl in the group line added.
“I’m game,” a third girl noted. “What about you, Raffi?”
“Ah? Me?” Raffina reacted upon hearing her nickname, pulling her focus to the conversation that had been going on in her ear.
“Yeah. What do you think? Wanna go to the movies on Friday?”
“I don’t know,” Raffina said, taking a moment to lower her head as a cold wind draft passed by. “I’m up for romance like any other girl, but I think that one is a bit too much like me…”
“Really? Aw…”
“But I’ll go. At least tentatively. Count me in. Just let me check my schedule, first,” Raffina noted.
“Ah, your private lessons?”
“It’s always that.” one of the girls snorted, echoed by another.
“Yeah,” Raffina lied. “Tutors are always moving the schedule.”
“Drat… your dad really pressures you.”
“Shame that your grades aren’t getting better.”
“Oh, ha ha,” Raffina scoffed. “I’m at least higher than you.”
“I’m not the one with a tutor!”
“Whatever,” Raffina said with a small laugh, pulling herself to spy over the edge of the rooftop before going down before the girls would hear the passing cold gust. “Listen… it’s been fun, but I really wish to take a hot shower now.”
“Alright, Raffi.”
“Bye…” some of the girls answered dryly.
“See you all later,” Raffina chirped as she hung up. Now, in the quiet, with the night sky above her fortunately providing her a pocket between the rains and snow, she took a deep breath staring at the starless sky. “Hm… a movie with friends sounds fun, doesn’t it? If only I could brag about my nightly escapades.”
With a snicker in her lips, she pushed herself back up in a crouched position to observe the building across the street. The Japanese American Museum of Oregon, located at the base of a multistory building, was a humble looking place for a ‘museum’ but still a perfectly legit target.
Her phone’s camera canvased the structure, taking pictures of the potential access points. The main entrance was still illuminated as the employees stayed behind to, presumably, open the crates she saw them receive before the phone call with her friends. She imagined that the security guard would be stationed there, which rendered it out of the question. There was a side entrance in the alley which was a potential avenue… but the better one for her was the rooftop that was just a small leap from the next building. Just a hop, skip and a dive and she would be in.
After she heard that there would be a display of court treasures for a limited time, she just had the idea of slipping in to peruse the wares first-hand. How nice would it be to throw pictures of her borrowing a geisha’s fan and kimono, or holding a katana, into her alternate social media? Another notch to her street cred as an infiltrator.
Just need to check the weather report, she told herself before hopping to her feet and then standing daringly at the edge of the building. The vertigo and feeling of breathlessness at the five-story height hit her and quickly passed as her own tail grew out to full length and strength, ending with an unsheathing bony protrusion at the edge akin to a sickle It hooked itself onto the concrete edge.
Leaning away from the ledge, she sent her gaze down to the ground and then up the building she stood on. No lights on. That just meant that there probably wouldn’t be anyone to notice her skulking about on the upper floors.
After taking a couple of pictures, her phone rang, and she almost dropped it from the surprise buzz. Fortunately, she managed to catch it by the corner between her fingers. She wouldn’t have to explain to her parents why she needed another smartphone… again.
“Don’t scare me like that whoever you are- Oh. Caroline,” Raffina said as her tail alone pulled her off the edge and back onto the rooftop. “Caroline? How are you doing?”
“Raffina? Evening. Hope I’m not interrupting things,” Caroline said with her trademark motherly candor.
“Not at all. Just… doing my thing,” Raffina said as a gust of wind passed by.
“Are you out? This late?” Caroline inquired.
“I’m… I’m at the balcony, just enjoying the weather,” she said snuggling as a chill passed by. Unfortunately, the sound of a car’s horn from the street below exposed her.
“Tell me the truth.”
“Fine. I’m out. Please don’t tell my Mom…”
“Your father is out of town, right?”
“Out on business,”
“What are you doing?”
“Just scouting a place.” Raffina said, hearing a small sigh on the other side of the line. As she paced around the rooftop, her tail coating itself in dark energy before snaking its way back under her long-ish coat. When she noticed drops rippling in a puddle in the corner, she knew that was her cue to leave the rooftop.
“I imagined,” Caroline sighed. “Well, as long as you’re being careful.”
“I always am,” Raffina said as she moved over to the stairwell annex to open the door only to hear the clank of the lock. ‘Of course… these don’t open from the outside…’ she thought to herself.
“Everything okay?” Caroline sensed the silence. “I can call later if you’re doing public recon…”
“No need. I’m alone up here.. Just a moment.” Raffina pulled back her sleeve, letting the golden markings on her wrist manifest themselves for a brief second as the skin of her right hand darkened in color and gained a velvet feeling to its touch, whilst her nails grew a bit more claw-like. The process felt as natural and seamless as could be. Placing it against the door, her energies collected on the surface creating a vertical pool of darkness through which her hand slipped in as though it was nothing.
After some short probing, the doorknob at the other side turned and the door opened. Her hand slipped back out of the shadows, letting them fade away and leaving the surface as if nothing had been there.
“Alright, I’m clear,” she said once inside. “Is this about our next torture, er, tutoring session?”
“Actually…” Caroline said, taking a moment to get the words out. “I have an assignment ahead of me and, after some consideration and a lot of reservations, I realized that you’re one of the more capable people I could ask to be a part of it.”
“An assignment?” She almost missed a step on her way down the stairs. “Wait , you mean a Syndi-”
“Remember that you’re not at home,” Caroline interrupted.
“Right…” Raffina said excitedly. “So you’re inviting me to an assignment?”
“Yes. I’m extending the offer,” Caroline said. “Know that this will be a dangerous mission that will put you at high risk. If you don’t wish to, it’s fine. I can find another way.”
“Are you joking? I’ve been waiting for this moment since I got my powers. I’m ready. Say what you need and I’ll do it,” Raffina said.
Caroline seemed to sigh, but was it out of doubt or concern? Raffina couldn’t tell. Still, her magic trainer carried on. “Very well. We’ll be departing on Friday. Come to my place at four, with a bag ready for a weekend out.”
“This Friday?” Raffina said, now glad she hadn’t committed to the movie afternoon with friends. “Alright.”
“Good. I’ll talk to your parents and make the appropriate arrangements for the gear. I would like for you to send me the specs of your current operative suit,” Caroline said, in a more professional tone, the same one she used when talking with other Syndicate officials. This made it official now. “I think that’s all we should discuss for now.”
“Understood… Understood. Understood,” Raffina said, trying to sound more formal with each attempt.
“Talk to you later,” Caroline said.
“See ya,” Raffina replied as the phone call was over.
Alone in the winding staircase, she carried on down leaping three steps at the time, excited. This was her first assignment. “This is gonna be awesome…” she mused.
