(AFKW) CHAPTER TWO

Shemira hadn’t expected Earth Bet to be more dangerous than Esperia, but in some ways, it was. 

Esperia’s threats were vast but distant, waged on scales most could barely comprehend. Entire villages could live and die without ever laying eyes on a beast, much less a Hypogean. But here? Not only did they also have beings akin to gods, but danger still crept out of alleys and shadows, ordinary and vicious and wrapped in human skin. Danger still carried steel not for conquest or glory, but for a handful of bills or a woman’s purse.

And Brockton Bay had no shortage of alleys.

She had been walking home from Weymouth Shopping Center, a bag of groceries balanced against her hip, when the sound reached her first: the shuffle of hurried steps closing in behind her, too intentional to be coincidental.

“Hey, lady.”

The voice was male and hoarse, probably due to drug damage. She turned, just enough to see three men behind her, two older, and one hardly more than a boy. Scarves were wrapped around their lower faces, though their eyes shone with the unmistakable gleam of bad intent. One carried a bat, another a rust-pitted length of pipe, while the boy twirled a knife with all the overconfidence of someone who had practiced the move regularly in front of a mirror.

“Wallet or purse.” Surprisingly, it was the boy who took the lead, blade flashing under the streetlight. “Now.”

Her breath left her in a slow exhale. 

If she had been Annette alone, panic might have taken hold. Maybe she would have pleaded, tried to reason with them, or handed over everything they wanted without hesitation. But Shemira had lived through worse things than desperate, hungry men with dilated pupils and tattered clothes.

Still, regret rose in her gut. She hadn’t practiced with her magic—Graveborn magic, to be exact—since awakening in this world, hadn’t tested its limits, or even tried to understand it. Now, staring down three would-be muggers, she realized the folly of her action.

But magic was intuitive. If she needed it, it would answer.

And truth be told, against men like these, she doubted she needed it at all.

The first to move was the boy with the knife, all nerves and bravado. He lunged, blade outstretched. Shemira shifted her weight to the side, swinging the heavy grocery bag into his wrist. The knife fell to the ground with a metallic clatter. And before he could recover, she struck him across the temple with the corner of the bag. He crumpled, dazed more than hurt.

The second came with the bat. She met his charge with a glare, and something deep inside stirred. Letting instinct guide her, a fragment of her power, formless swirls of sickly green, appeared around the man, and she understood it (without knowing how) to be some type of command. So even though he still swung at her, it was sluggish, his motion collapsing under invisible weight. She was able to easily step in close, grasp the weapon mid-swing with her free hand, and wrench it free. Her knee met his stomach soon after, and he doubled over with a gasp.

The last one froze mid-step. He hadn’t expected this, she could tell, as his gaze darted between his companions and her face. Shemira realized then that the green glow hadn’t faded, lingering instead at the edges of her eyes, and casting a faint pallor over the night air. Shadows—of things—stretched toward her, too long and too alive to be entirely natural. She hadn’t meant to summon it, hadn’t even tried, but the Graveborn magic had answered anyway.

The man stumbled back, trembling. “W-what the fuck kind of cape are you?”

Her lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “One you don’t want to meet again.”

That was all it took. He turned and ran, leaving his companions groaning on the ground.

Shemira let the magic fade, drawing in a breath that steamed in the cool night air. The grocery bag was torn, one carton of eggs leaking yolk across the sidewalk, but most of the goods were intact.

For a moment, she stood in silence, the rush of battle still in her chest. She had fought without thinking, her body answering the threat as though made for it. But the feeling left her uneasy too.

Was Graveborn magic always this dark? 

She shook her head, dismissing the thought. Just because she didn't understand it didn't mean she should condemn it outright. Magic was still magic, regardless of its form.

Taking one last look at the two still on the ground, she continued toward home. 

Still, the encounter left her mind turning. Maybe it was time to learn what her magic could really do before fate forced her hand again. And maybe it was time to start preparing Taylor as well. Their daughter—Annette’s and hers—was bright and curious, but far too trusting for a city like this. Shemira had seen the way Taylor’s eyes softened at strangers, and how she flinched from even small conflicts.

Earth Bet was cruel. If the Endbringers or the parahumans didn’t crush you, the smaller monsters waiting in alleyways would.

So she would teach Taylor, not magic—at least, not yet—but the basics: how to see danger before it arrived, how to stand, how to fight, and most importantly, how to survive. Because if this world insisted on being more dangerous than Esperia, Shemira would not let Taylor walk through it unarmed.