My World, My Justice Ch. 10

One major downside of being a kick-ass hero? Everyone and their grandma know about you. Which means the bad guys scatter like roaches whenever I show up.

Result? Way less action. 

But hey, safer streets for the average Joe. That’s a win, right?

It’s all about balance, I guess. Still doesn’t make this patrol any less boring.

So here I am reduced to community service on a slow day. Don’t get me wrong, helping people is great and all, but punching villains and bastards is way more satisfying. Ignoring my crippling speech, of course.

Right now, I’m playing crossing guard for a little old lady with a hunched back.

“Oh, thank you so much, True Might,” she chirps, patting my arm as we reach the other side. “Such a strong, handsome man. More youngsters should be like you.”

I strike my best heroic pose, complete with a dazzling smile. “Just doing my duty, ma’am! Justice is always here to help!”

With that, I watch her shuffle off to continue her day, and I turn around to keep up this thrilling community service gig.

The next few hours blur together in a parade of good deeds and increasingly corny one-liners. I help a guy change his tire, rescue a frisbee from a rooftop for some kids, and even escort a nervous-looking teen through an empty street. It isn’t exactly a bad part of the city, but crime is well... everywhere these days.

When the sun’s directly overhead, I’m directing traffic around a fender bender. Nobody’s hurt, just startled, and it doesn’t devolve into a heated argument or a fist fight. They’re actually quite polite, which is a refreshing change of pace.

“True Might, can you sign my notebook?!” A freckled boy comes running up to me, staring with wide, sparkling black eyes.

“Of course, young hero-in-training!” I ruffle his brown hair and scrawl my signature. He runs off back to his mother, who waves at me with a smile.

I’m grinning and waving back, of course, before striking another heroic pose. But in my head? I’m bored out of my skull.

So I look up, spot a not-so-tall building, and with a careful tensing of my legs, I jump to its roof. I land without much noise and take a seat on one of those rooftop units–air conditioner control panel or whatever they’re called.

I’m not really tired, but it feels nice to park my butt after hours of non-stop do-gooding. Just a small break as I pull out my phone and go straight to my chat with Oracle.

I take a deep breath and send a message in-character.

“Greetings again, my friend!”

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry to trouble you this fine day, but I require your assistance in finding evildoers, as I’m brimming with justice to spread!”

“One sec. Gonna check.”

I lower my phone and scratch my chin, not really thinking of anything as I stare blankly into the distance, waiting for her reply.

After a while, my phone buzzes, and I look down to find her new message.

“Lucky you! I got a new quest for you!”

“Fantastic news, friend Oracle!”

But rather than write another reply, she actually calls me. I promptly pick up and connect.

“Hey there, True Might! Got a spicy quest for you!” Oracle’s voice chirps through the phone. “Had to do some hacking here and there, but I’ve found you the perfect mission. How about causing some mayhem in ABB territory? Outer parts only though, ‘cause I don’t want to invite Lung to total an entire district. It’s gonna be dangerous, but that’s your style, right?”

“Justice never cowers, friend! No matter how many foes they throw at me, justice shall prevail!”

“Hehe, knew you’d say that.” she giggles. “Okay, so here’s the deal: they’ve been kidnapping people and capes for weeks. Problem is, I can’t pinpoint where they’re holding them no matter where I look or ask. BUT if you go there and punch a couple baddies on their turf, I bet someone will spill the beans!”

So I’ll scare their members. Nice.

“If this will save innocent lives, then say no more!”

“Awesome! I’m sure you will have fun! Anyway, watch out for their capes, especially for Lung and Oni Lee. But don’t underestimate the rest of their capes. Remember Ba-ehhhhhh-Muscular? Yeah, Muscular. You can take him as a reference on what to expect there.”

I frown at her obvious slip-up. Oracle almost called Bane by his original name, not Muscular. There are no other names that would start with those syllables for that big guy. It raises a lot of suspicion about her, especially her knowledge, but I won’t comment or ask questions.

For now.

“THANK YOU FOR YOUR ASSISTANCE, FRIEND ORACLE! I SHALL DEPART IN THE NAME OF JUSTICE NOW!” I shout, hamming it up.

“Go get ‘em, hero! Oracle, out!”

She hangs up with a playful beep.

I stare at my phone, waiting for the quest notification and rewards. But the screen stays blank, so I start looking for it, but I find nothing.

Weird. 

Maybe it was too easy for the system, hence I’m not being given more missions? Hope not. I need those credits, even if it is just a single credit reward.

At least I’ve bought myself another month to earn more after the first loan payment.

Well, I gave my word to wreak havoc in ABB territory, and Oracle will work her thinker magic for intel. I roll my shoulders and then stretch my legs a bit before I turn west and tense my legs, ready to leap into action.

“Oi, muscle head!”

I freeze mid-step, recognizing that brash voice instantly. Plastering on my heroic grin, I turn around. “Ah, the illustrious ally of justice graces us with her youthful presence! What brings you to my humble rooftop, friend Mirko?”

I find the rabbit hero landing on my roof before kicking some dirt off her boots, eyeing me with a mix of amusement and irritation. “Heard some big lug was helping civilians. Figured it was none other than you.”

“Indeed! It’s only natural to help those in need, no matter how big or small!” I thump my chest before letting out a boisterous laugh. “You should join me in some glorious community service, friend!”

She scoffs. “Yeah, not my thing. I’m all for the spotlight, but I’d rather be cracking skulls than helping grannies cross the street.” She shakes her head. “But that’s not why I’m here. I’m itching for another good fight and hunt some assholes, and Glory Girl isn’t around to help. And since you thrashed those Nazi punks... wanna tag along?”

She cracks her knuckles, a fierce grin spreading across her face.

Oh, kicking ass together? Well, you know what they say, everything is much better with friends. Although, before I accept her offer I wanna mess with her a little.

“My deepest apologies! But I have been given a mission to bring righteous justice upon wicked evildoers!” I shout with my eyes closed, hamming it up.

“Mission?” She raises an eyebrow before her expression shifts to understanding. “Ah, that twerp. Let me in on this too. You’re going after the ABB, right?”

I nod in confirmation.

“Ha! Called it.” She smirks, bouncing on her toes. “Follow me. I know where we can find some losers who need a beating.”

“Lead me to justice, friend Mirko!” I pump my fists together, beaming the flashiest of grins. “Together, we shall bring more glorious justice to these streets!”

Mirko rolls her eyes so hard that it looks like they might fall out of her head. “Yeah, yeah, save the speeches for later, big guy. Try to keep up!”

Without another word, she’s off, muscles coiling before she launches herself into an impressive leap to the next building. She lands with ease, turning to beckon me impatiently.

I roll my neck, feeling some anticipation build up. Then I’m off, sprinting and leaping after the heroine.

We bound across the rooftops of Brockton Bay, a bizarre duo of two muscle-headed heroes. Mirko leads the charge, her powerful legs propelling her in graceful arcs and agility on her movements. She is a parkour expert soon I understand. I follow close behind, my jumps less elegant but no less effective, and we aren’t in a race this time. 

But I have a sneaking suspicion she’d leave me in the dust this time, as this was different than just raw speed.

“Keeping up alright there, big guy?” She glances back, a cocky smirk dancing on her lips.

Ah, what a show off.

We leap from building to building, the scenery gradually changing around us. The well-maintained structures of downtown give way to more run-down apartments and abandoned warehouses. Graffiti becomes more prevalent, with ABB tags marking territory like a garish breadcrumb trail.

Mirko suddenly throws up a fist, signaling a stop. We land atop an apartment complex, the roof a mess of litter and neglect, but not quite the wasteland you’d find in Merchant territory. Below us stretches a dingy street corner, sparsely populated by what looks like the city’s homeless. The common citizen wouldn’t want to wander in these streets for longer than necessary.

She stretches, muscles rippling under her skin as she rolls her neck. Then she flashes me a fierce grin, her red eyes glinting with a predator’s anticipation.

“Ready for some action, big guy?”

“Justice is always ready to be served!” I flex my arms.

She nods approvingly, then snatches a brick from the debris-strewn roof. Without warning, she hurls it across the street with pinpoint accuracy, shattering a large window in an explosion of glass. Before I can even open my mouth to question her tactics, she’s off, leaping to the building and smashing through the remaining panes with a battle cry that’s half laugh, half roar. 

Pretty bold of her, I like it.

I follow suit, landing inside to a scene of utter chaos and mayhem. People panic, fumbling for weapons, curses flying as fast as bodies scrambling for cover. Mirko’s nowhere in sight, but the trail of destruction says she’s already busy.

“SHOOT HIM!”

Really?

I raise my eyebrows as by now they should know that is the most pointless thing to do against me. Instead, I flex my muscles and strike my most heroic pose, voice booming through the room. “NO WICKED VILLAINOUS FEEBLE TRICKS SHALL PIERCE THE ARMOR OF RIGHTEOUSNESS!”

Gunfire erupts, a continuous cracking rhythm of futility as bullets ping harmlessly off my body. I make a show of dusting off my shoulders, unable to keep the smirk off my face.

“JUSTICE RUSH!”

They scramble to flee, but I’m way faster than any normal human. I catch the first sucker before he can fully turn, lifting him off the floor like he weighs nothing. With a swift spin on my heels, I hurl him into a scattering group. They go down like bowling pins, a tangle of limbs and curses.

“LUNA RUSH!”

A sudden battle cry pierces the air as a drywall to my left explodes , revealing Mirko emerging with a flying kick. She lands on a thug, sending him flying before he can even raise his weapon. Without missing a beat, she leaps into the middle of another group landing on her hands.

“LUNA RING!”

A perfect spinning kick knocks out everyone around her in a devastating circle.

Damn, she’s good. Can’t let her have all the fun.

Grinning and not about to be outdone, I charge the remaining men desperately fighting to flee through the door.

“JUSTICE PUNCH!” My fist connects with one goon’s stomach, but I don’t stop there. I drive my fist further, using his body as a human battering ram to take out even more with a single motion. Then I grab a random ankle and hurl the body towards others like a ragdoll.

Not missing a beat, I quickly punch through the wall, grab a collar on the other side, and yank the poor sap towards me, breaking the wall in the process. 

Should’ve run when he had the chance. Curiosity killed the cat after all… or a lot of broken bones and bruises.

As the dust settles, I take in my surroundings. The only sound is the groaning of men sprawled on the floor amidst broken furniture, shattered TVs, and torn posters. Taking in the sight a little more, I understand that this must’ve been a gangster meeting place, explaining the numbers of men here and Mirko’s choice of target.

“Mmm, these guys weren’t even a warm-up.”

Speaking of the devil...

Mirko saunters in, dragging a bald man with intricate face tattoos by his collar before unceremoniously dropping him atop another goon. “Now where are those guys? There should’ve been two or three capes hanging out here.”

I rub my chin, pondering. Maybe they fled, or they’re on another floor? Or perhaps they’re lying in wait, planning an ambush. So I take another look at my ruined surroundings.

Well, standing around won’t solve anything.

With a snap of my fingers, inspiration strikes. I head to the door - ignoring the man-sized hole in the wall - and take a deep breath.

“THE MIGHT OF JUSTICE HAS ARRIVED, FOUL VILLAINS! COME FORTH TO RECEIVE YOUR JUST PUNISHMENT OUTSIDE ON THE STREETS!” 

I can even hear my voice echo through the building.

Satisfied, I close the door and return inside.

“Well, that’s one way to find them, I guess,” Mirko says, scratching her right ear. “But warn me next time, little sensitive there.”

I let out a booming laugh, chin held high. “Come along, friend! Let us show these evildoers why the wicked ways of villainy never pay!”

Her red eyes widen for a moment before she licks her lips, pumping her fists with a fierce grin.

We approach the broken window, surveying the empty street below. I jump first, landing on the road and cracking it under my weight. Mirko follows with a graceful leap, sliding down the wall before propelling herself off a lamppost to land perfectly on both feet.

Suddenly, Mirko’s ears twitch, and she bolts back into the building without a word.

At that exact moment, gunfire erupts from all directions, bullets pinging harmlessly off my body. I can’t help but roll my eyes as I wonder why they keep trying the same useless tactics?

Focusing on a single window, ignoring the bullet hitting me, I spot a shooter wielding a weird-looking, convoluted weapon. Tinker-tech. And now it makes sense why they are repeating the same pointless tactics they’re testing new weapons. Still futile, but points for effort.

These guns might work on Mirko, though. It’s for the best that they’re wasting their ammo on me instead of her.

The bullet storm eventually subsides, leaving me surrounded by a layer of dented, deformed slugs carpeting the street. Kinda cool sight, not gonna lie.

An awkward silence follows as nothing happens for long seconds. Maybe I should call them out again?

My thoughts are interrupted as a lightning ray strikes my shoulder. I turn to find a burly man in a gray vest and skeleton helmet, hands crackling with electricity before he hurls more bolts my way.

Well, I can see the lightning hitting me, but it doesn’t even tickle. Is this supposed to hurt? Or do something?

As I take a step towards him, my movements are suddenly restrained. Steel wire rope coils tightly around my limbs, originating from a window where a woman’s hair seems to be the source.

The trap sprung. A muscular guy with a square facemask bursts from another window, charging at me with his fist cocked back.

I smirk, shaking my head. “THESE FEEBLE WICKED TRICKS SHALL NOT DEFEAT THE FULL MIGHT OF MY RIGHTEOUS JUSTICE!”

With a flex, I bend the steel hair and wrap it tightly around my right arm. A powerful yank pulls the woman from her perch, screaming in shock. I use her momentum, hurling her at high speed towards the lightning guy. They collide spectacularly, crashing into a wall before collapsing in a heap.

Planting my foot, I block the incoming punch from Square-face with my palm. A quick twist of his wrist elicits a groan of pain before I launch him skyward.

As gravity takes hold, I prepare to finish him off, but a familiar voice cuts through the air.

“LUNA KICK!”

Mirko soars into view, delivering a devastating drop kick square to the muscular guy’s chest. The impact slams him against a wall, cracking the bricks. But the heroine doesn’t pause to admire her handiwork. She’s already sprinting towards the two downed capes, who are groggily trying to rise.

What a show-off, I think with a grin as Mirko’s feet connect with their faces in rapid succession and knock them out.

“WHAT A FANTAS-“

My heroic declaration is cut short as my hand instinctively shoots up, blocking an incoming projectile. The deformed mass crashing against my arm turns out to be a blue mailbox. 

Lowering my arm, I spot the culprit - a bizarre duck-human hybrid? 

No, on closer inspection, it’s a guy with grayish-blue hair tied back in a ponytail, his elongated face protruding forward like a bill. But it’s his ridiculously oversized mutant hands that catch my eye, spinning at dizzying speeds and creating miniature tornados.

That looks quite unique, i admit.

And he doesn’t hesitate with his attack, hurling the whirlwinds straight at me. I plant my feet, bracing against the onslaught. My arms fly up to shield my face, but the storm of debris pelts me relentlessly. Objects big and small, soft and hard, shatter against my impenetrable body, no damage as expected but I know that if I lose concentration or my footing, he can send me flying.

As the tornado subsides, I lower my arms, only to grunt in discomfort as something dry assaults my eyes. Exactly the kind of shit that I was trying to avoid, forcing me to take a step back as I rub furiously at my eyes, cursing my luck.

However, not even a minute later something heavy connects with my skull. My free hand shoots out instinctively, gripping the offending weapon. As I finish clearing my vision, I find myself face-to-face with a shocked woman, desperately trying to free her oversized club from my iron grip.

She’s quite the sight - long, wavy white hair mostly tied back, two locks framing her face, bangs obscuring her right eye. Her outfit rivals Mirko’s in how much skin is exposed.

A coordinated attack? I’ll give them points for effort. 

But that doesn’t stop me and I tighten my grip, snapping the club in half. She yelps, stumbling backward.

“TRULY VILLAINS AT HEART, RESORTING TO SUCH FOUL, COWARDLY MOVES!” I boom, easily snagging her wrist. “WHICH IS WHY I MUST PUT AN END TO YOUR WICKED WAYS!”

The villainess struggles against me, hurling a glob of dust at my face. I turn aside, closing my eyes and letting the dust hit me while I mentally groan in exasperation because now I’ll need a shower to get this grit out of my hair, and I can feel some of it entering under my suit as well so I need to change clothes as well.

However, she persists, throwing more dust which I catch she produces from her body. Revealing that dust creation is her power. It’s a very annoying power rather than threatening.

But I have gotten tired of her tricks and her futile attempts really fast, I yank her close and drive a solid punch into her stomach. She gasps in shock and pain, crumpling to her knees before collapsing entirely, clutching her stomach and trying and failing to contain her pain.

Rather than chase her partner, I stomp the road hard, creating a small crater under my foot. Scooping up chunks of asphalt, I hurl them at high speed towards Duck-Face. He doesn’t have time to react as my makeshift projectiles connect with his head and chest, dropping him like a sack of potatoes.

“COME ON, VILLAINS! FACE YOUR TRIAL OF JUSTICE! I SHALL BRING YOU ALL BEFORE THE EYES OF LADY JUSTICE HERSELF!” I yell as I strike yet another pose, deliberately leaving myself exposed. As I expect more capes to try their luck against me. 

As I wait for the next challenger, I can’t help but wonder where Mirko’s got to. Probably having just as much fun as I am, the thought brings a smirk to my face. But I bet she hasn’t taken down as many as me yet.

A comical scream pierces the air, growing louder by the second. I turn just in time to see a masked man flailing wildly before he crashes into my chest face first and crumples to the ground, clutching his head.

“Oi, you were supposed to catch him.” Mirko saunters into view, dragging a lanky figure before unceremoniously dropping him at my feet. Another cape, I assume.

And with these guys at my feet, it should make seven capes. We just took down seven capes in a couple of minutes. Yet a realization hits me like a cold shower when I take these numbers into consideration because there were seven capes in part of the gang territory. Then just how many does Lung have at his disposal? Or how stronger are they?

Mirko whistles as she surveys the aftermath of the skirmish, pulling me away from my concerning thoughts. “Damn, you’ve been busy but maybe you... wait a minute.” She narrows her eyes, zeroing in on the white-haired woman still writhing from my punch.

Kneeling, she grabs the downed cape by the hair, forcing eye contact. “I know ya.”

The villainess tries to speak but doubles over in a coughing fit.

“Oh? You mean this poor soul is a fallen comrade, tempted by the wicked siren song of villainy?” I interject, unable to stop the dramatic flair of my question.

Mirko shoots me a slight frown before shaking her head. “Eh, no. Her name is Dusty Ash, and that guy over there is Gust Boy.” She points at the downed duck looking guy. “They’re a minor villain team from back home.”

“H-hey...” Dusty Ash manages a pained smile before gasping for air.

Mirko scratches her head, looking more perplexed than angry. “You guys are the Volcano Thieves, right? I remember you only do bank and jewelry heists. Occasionally some merc’ work. Why are you working for a bastard like Lung, huh? You don’t look the type to fall this low, heck I know you have a weird code even.”

She releases her hold, letting Dusty’s face hit the asphalt with a groan. The villainess rolls to her side, wheezing.

“W-we didn’t have...” Another coughing fit interrupts her. She spits to the side before continuing, “L-Lung killed Volcano when we arrived at Brockton Bay. It was join or die.”

Mirko’s expression cycles through shock, anger, and something almost like grief. “Volcano’s dead? Shit. Guy was a pain in the ass, but he didn’t deserve that.”

I nod mentally, remembering how Uber and Leet were going to be gruesomely executed by the Empire if I didn’t intervene in time.

“Such cruelty,” I declare, crossing my arms. “Lung must face the full weight of justice. I shall ensure he brings harm to neither the innocent nor the not-so-innocent.” And I actually mean it.

Mirko sighs, rubbing her neck, a grim expression marring her features. “Yeah, we all think the same, big guy. Many of us want to throw him in the Birdcage. But it IS Lung we’re talking about. He’ll grow really fast if we fight, then go on a bloody rampage across town and kill a lot of people out of spite. Otherwise, I would’ve kicked his teeth a long time ago. And I tried, but his fire is simply unbearable and he has his pet assassin to keep us occupied until he grows.”

Her words catch me off guard. It’s unlike her to shy away from a fight, even a dangerous one.

But the moment passes quickly. “Oi, big guy, you brought cuffs?”

My expression loosens into a grin. “INDEED! THE BRAVE OFFICERS OF THE BBPD HAVE EQUIPPED ME WITH AMPLE RESTRAINTS FOR EVILDOERS!”

“Cool, give me a few.” Mirko extends an open hand, which I promptly fill with a couple of cuffs.

It dawns on me that we’ve essentially cleaned house, and in record time compared to the Earthshard incident. Then I guess it is time for a public announcement, so I take a deep breath, puffing out my chest.

“CITIZENS OF BROCKTON BAY! FEAR NOT! TRUE MIGHT AND THE MIGHTY MIRKO HAVE ONCE AGAIN TRIUMPHED OVER VILLAINY! THE STREETS SHALL BE A LITTLE SAFER!”

Mirko snorts, but I catch the hint of a smirk. “Less yapping, more cuffing, big guy. We’ve got work to do.”

Her amusement fades as she looks down at Dusty Ash, who’s breathing more steadily now. Kneeling, Mirko’s expression turns serious, though I detect a hint of pity.

“Listen up, dust-for-brains. Don’t resist arrest. Come with us, make a plea deal with the PRT.”

My head snaps towards her, mirroring Dusty Ash’s shocked expression.

Mirko sighs, exasperated. “Yeah, yeah, I hate those paper-pushers too. But for a shit situation like yours? It’s your best bet. They might even ship you and your buddy to another city or country. Away from Lung.”

“Y-yeah, I’ll take it. T-thanks...” Dusty manages before another coughing fit.

I clear my throat, recovering from my surprise. “INCREDIBLE, FRIEND MIRKO! TRULY A HERO’S HEART! MORE SHOULD FOLLOW YOUR SHINING EXAMPLE!”

She scoffs. “Whatever you say, big guy. Just cuff the other losers and group ‘em up. We’ll haul ‘em away after I finish my side.”

“THIS IS ANOTHER VICTORY FOR JUSTICE!” I strike a heroic pose, flexing both arms above my head before dropping them and adopting a more relaxed tone. “Our mutual friend, Oracle, must be informed of our glorious victory!”

Mirko rolls her eyes, dragging a hand down her face. “Yeah, yeah, just be quick, ‘kay?” She bounds off to round up the first three capes we’d taken down.

I pull out my phone, firing off a quick message to Oracle about our success. Then I turn to the dazed Gust Boy, cuffing his hands. Thankfully, the cuffs adjust to accommodate his freakishly large mitts.

He groans as I hoist him over my shoulder, but doesn’t resist. I deposit him with the others, propping him against a wall before cuffing Dusty Ash and the remaining two capes.

Soon, all our captives are neatly arranged, sitting side by side, thoroughly subdued. I can’t help but feel a surge of pride at a job well done.

Feeling triumphant, I decide to impart some words of wisdom to our captives. Not gloating, of course. Just... some nice words of encouragement to do better.

I cannot control it after all.

“Crime does not pay, villains! Let this be a powerful and lasting life lesson. After you’ve faced just punishment under the hammer of the law, you can start anew as virtuous citizens!” I flash my most dazzling grin as I thump my chest with a closed fist “Or perhaps even join the virtuous ranks of justice, maybe even becoming companions worthy of the title ‘friend‘!”

“Fuck you,” the lanky guy spits, quite literally. His glob of saliva lands near my boots, and he is a very heavy drinker because I can even smell the stench of alcohol.

Rude.

Before I can rebuke him, the air cracks with a deafening but well-known sound of a gunshot. The rude lanky cape jerks, a red stain blooming on his chest as his mouth hangs open in utter shock.

Instinct takes over. I slam my foot down, raising an asphalt wall around us just as a hail of bullets peppers our makeshift shelter. Dusty Ash screams, while the others panic, watching their companion start choking on his own blood.

Shit.

No time to think. I scoop up all four between my arms, coiling my legs before launching us skyward, but because I didn’t have any momentum, it isn’t enough which forces me to use a window as a springboard, shattering glass as we soar higher.

More shots whistle past, missing by inches. My passengers scream and curse, clinging to me for dear life.

We crash-land on a rooftop, my body taking the brunt of the impact. I drop the capes and frantically focus on the gunshot victim, ripping his clothes for a makeshift bandage.

But I freeze, realizing I have no idea how to actually treat a gunshot wound. I shake my head, focusing again and use his ripped clothes to press on the wound, trying to imitate from my memories.

And then I should try to call for emergencies... 

Oh. He’s dead.

He has gone still, and I can longer see or hear him breathe.

Shit.

“HEY! JUST GET US OUT OF HERE, YOU BASTARD!” the duck-faced cape yells, thrashing against his bonds.

I ignore him, gently closing the dead man’s eyes. “Even as a villain, you deserve justice,” I mutter, standing up.

“STILL BABBLING ABOUT JUSTICE? FUCK YOU, MAN! JUST FUCKING GET US OUT OF HERE!” The masked guy struggles futilely against his cuffs.

The others writhe in panic, terrified they’ll share the same fate. I stand there, staring at the sky, searching for... something. Anything.

I don’t care about villains. They’re bad people, they are complete bastards most of the time. And it feels good to punch them in the face. But facing death like this... it hits differently. I don’t know what to think or feel. It’s just... wrong.

Empathy? Or another thing?

I have Mind defense and Stress defense, the second tier, which should make me completely immune to any sort of mental affliction. So why am I having these strange feelings? A nervous breakdown perhaps? 

Literally impossible, again, thanks to my defenses.

Perhaps conflicting thoughts? I mean, 

“Shit, shit, shit!” Mirko’s voice snaps me back to reality as I watch her land on the same roof as us. “Since when do they shoot their own like— oh.”

She looks down at the dead cape and then at me before she clutches her head. “This is fucked up.”

“Friend, I need your help,” I say, my voice uncharacteristically quiet. “We must leave immediately, or they might be fatally wounded. You as well.”

“YEAH! / YES! / GO!” The remaining capes yell in unison.

Mirko tugs at her ears in frustration before slapping her cheeks. “Okay, we jump across buildings. Fast. I’ve dealt with guns before, so I know how to dodge. I’ll take the lead, got it?”

I nod and Mirko takes off.

More shots ring out as she leaps away, but the bullets miss her or hit the edge of the building or windows.

I quickly gather the villains, tucking the two men under my arms and letting Dusty Ash cling to my neck. 

“BRACE YOURSELVES!” I boom, my heroic persona re-surging as I make the first leap of our desperate escape.

We need to reach the PRT headquarters.

And fast.

We leap from rooftop to rooftop, each landing sending shockwaves and cracking the roof by the sheer force and weight of my landing. Mirko bounds ahead, a blur of motion, her powerful legs propelling her surprisingly far with each jump. The adrenaline must be boosting her. I follow her lead, my passengers clinging to me for dear life.

“LEFT!” Mirko shouts, suddenly changing direction. I pivot mid-air, and use another building to propel myself in the new direction. “RIGHT!”

“HOW MUCH FURTHER, FRIEND MIRKO?”

She doesn’t look back, focused on our escape route. “COUPLE MORE BLOCKS! JUST KEEP MOVING!”

Dusty Ash whimpers against my neck, while the other two captives have gone eerily quiet. I can feel their hearts racing, their hearts pounding against their chest. 

Another volley of gunfire erupts behind us. And by a split second decision, I swiftly twisted my body.

The impact of four bullets against my chest sends a dull thud through my body. Dusty Ash gasps, realizing how close she came to death. The other two remain silent, but I feel their grips tighten.

“THEY’RE GETTING MORE ACCURATE!” I shout to my fighting partner.

Without warning, she dives into a narrow alley. I follow, spotting a metallic fence at the far end. Mirko doesn’t slow down - she crashes through it like it’s made of paper. I double my pace, leaning forward to let my head take the brunt of the impact. The fence shatters around me in a cacophony of screeching metal.

But I keep running.

“WAIT!”

Mirko’s voice cuts through my concentration. I skid to a halt, my feet leaving furrows in the asphalt. Raising my gaze, I realize we’re in another district entirely. More importantly, we’re outside the ABB zone.

The sudden silence is deafening. No more gunshots, no more screaming. Just the ragged breathing of our motley group and the distant sounds of a city unaware of the drama that just unfolded. And who could forget the civilians looking at us and taking pictures.

While Mirko is using her knees as support while she gasps for air.

“We... we made it?” Dusty Ash’s voice is barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might bring the danger crashing back down on us.

Not yet. 

“Onward, to the PRT headquarters!” I declare, resuming my run but at a less frantic pace. Although, that plan doesn’t seem to hold as I hear the sound of sirens getting closer.

Well, I don’t mind a lift.

It has been a long day, after all.

--------------------------

-Rebecca Costa-Brown-

Piggot’s report on her desk elicited a frown from the director. The ABB’s actions implied they had far more capes in their ranks than previously thought. What was Lung planning with all of them? Why hasn’t he launched a full scale attack to take over the city? The Empire had quality but would be inevitably overwhelmed by the sheer numbers and that was proving to be the case as they struggled to protect their territory.

Or was Coil doing something to contain Lung? 

She massaged her temples. At least they gained something from the mess. Now she was using the narrative to heavily promote that the PRT and the Protectorate had gained two new heroes—former villains inspired by True Might’s unyielding resolve and genuine desire for justice. For some reason, people love redemption stories.

Rebecca blinked and sighed. It was still ridiculous that she had to manage so many companies thanks to Contessa’s erratic actions. At least she didn’t have to micromanage everything. With Cauldron’s support, she had access to plenty of qualified personnel. It was one of them who had created the whole stage play for the event that was held in that cursed city.

And the main event had been a surprising success, with True Might fitting the role quite perfectly, beyond expectations even. They had made sure to spread videos of the stage play and his heroic deeds, along with carefully crafted articles. The public reaction had been overwhelmingly positive as well.

Now she had tasked one of her media teams to start preparing a small line of merchandise with his brand. She just needed to secure his signature and endorsement to roll out the products to market, mere formalities.

Yet, as she leaned back in her chair, a nagging doubt crept into her mind. Why him? Out of all the established heroes, all the seasoned veterans of countless battles, why had Contessa chosen this unknown cape over the rest? 

Was it because of his persona? She had to admit it was very corny, and even stupid, the likes you would only see in old cartoons and comics. But it worked.

And the data they were accumulating on his abilities was proving invaluable. Theoretical models suggested he could be a game-changer in Endbringer fights, either as a frontline combatant or a high-level distraction to enable more strategic deployments. 

The thought of Endbringers sobered her mood further. Recent attack patterns had been disturbingly precise, always managing to strike where their elite teams couldn’t respond in time. The absence of the Commando team, in particular, had led to unnecessary devastation and loss of life. 

A sudden knock on her window jolted her from her thoughts and looked over her shoulder, where she found a small package resting on the floor, having been dropped through the now-open window.

Most would have panicked, evacuated the building, called in bomb squads. But Rebecca knew better. There was only one person infuriatingly skilled to bypass all of her security measures so effortlessly.

She rose gracefully from her chair and moved to pick it up.

With a swift motion, she tore it open, revealing a set of DVDs. 

“Aerobics Champions?”

Why did Contessa give her exercise videos?

She wasn’t gaining weight, was she?