The city felt thin tonight, stretched taut like old elastic about to snap. Brockton Bay always had an edge, that low thrum of something about to go wrong, but this was different. Sharper. The air itself tasted metallic, ozone-and-fear flavoured, even high above the streetlights where the drizzle misted against my shield. Below, flashing lights painted streaks of red and blue across wet asphalt – police cruisers, fire trucks, ambulances – creating pockets of frantic order in the spreading unease.
Bakuda. God, another one. Just when you thought the ABB was finally on the ropes after Lung got shipped out, the psycho bitch crawls out of the woodwork armed with enough explosives to turn downtown into a crater. And this anonymous tip… weird. Convenient, maybe saving lives, but still weird. Mom hadn't liked it. She trusted procedure, official channels. Anonymous tips from god-knows-where were hardly done out of the goodness of one's heart.
"Sector Gamma clear," Crystal's voice crackled in my ear, calm as ever. "Moving to Delta grid. Shielder's got the last apartment block covered."
"Copy," I replied, scanning the streets below. We were doing sweeps, helping police corral civilians away from the list of potential targets the PRT had disseminated after the tip-off. Malls, power stations, bridges… the sheer random cruelty of it made my knuckles ache. "Anything on your end, Lady Photon?"
"Negative, Glory Girl," Sarah's voice was clipped, professional. "Maintain patrol pattern. The EOD teams are spread thin. We have to be in a position to intervene should the need arise."
Spread thin was Brockton Bay's default setting. We hovered in a loose triangle formation, a visible deterrent as much as anything. My force field shimmered around me, deflecting the drizzle. It felt good to be doing something, even if it was just glorified crowd control. Better than sitting at home, watching the news crawl, feeling helpless.
Then Sarah stiffened mid-air. Not a big movement, just a tightening of her shoulders, the way her head tilted slightly. Listening to a channel I wasn't on.
"New Wave, priority alert," she snapped, her voice suddenly sharp steel. "PRT convoy under attack, vicinity of Harbour Bridge North access. Call confirms Empire Eighty-Eight, multiple capes including Kaiser. Target is Asset Purity, currently in PRT custody."
Purity? What? When did they catch her? The news hadn't even broken yet. And the Empire was already hitting the transport… Now? In the middle of a city-wide bomb scare? Ballsy. Stupidly, suicidally ballsy.
"Empire elements engaged with Armsmaster and Miss Militia," Sarah continued, already banking towards the harbour. "Convoy compromised. Requesting immediate assistance. Shielder, maintain evacuation protocols. Glory Girl, Laserdream, with me. Formation Gamma, maximum speed."
No hesitation. Crystal angled sharply, her laser projection streamlining around her, and I poured on the speed, the city blurring into streaks of neon and sodium glow below. Wind screamed past, a familiar rush that usually felt exhilarating but now just felt like pressure building in my chest. Kaiser and multiple other capes. This wasn't just a snatch-and-grab; this was the Empire throwing down hard. And Purity… after literally ghosting them for months, they were risking this for her? Gang loyalty was a screwed-up thing.
We arrived on the scene less than a minute later, dropping into what looked like a warzone. The sleek lines of one of the PRT's transport lay crippled, tilted against a concrete divider, foam sprayed haphazardly across one side. Armoured PRT troopers exchanged fire with figures sheltering behind overturned cars – thugs in E88 colours. And in the centre, the capes.
Kaiser stood like a storm-god carved from iron, metal blades erupting around him, clashing against Armsmaster's halberd in showers of sparks. Fenja and Menja, impossibly large, chased Miss Militia like one does vermin scurrying between their legs. Some distance away, Krieg engaged the PRT troopers on the ground.
"Laserdream, suppress Krieg!" Aunt barked, her own lasers joining the fray, forcing Fenja back. "Glory Girl, Kaiser!"
Finally. I dove, force field flaring, ignoring the occasional shrapnel that pinged harmlessly off it. Kaiser turned as I dropped, blades snapping up like metallic thorns. I slammed into him, fist connecting with the dense metal he wore like a second skin. The impact jarred up my arm, but it sent him staggering back, momentarily disengaged from Armsmaster.
"Took you long enough, New Wave," Armsmaster's synthesized voice grunted, halberd whirling to deflect a metal spear that jutted out to gut him.
"Traffic was murder," I quipped, ducking under a scything blade and driving another punch into Kaiser's chest plate. He grunted, solidifying his stance, more blades sprouting to ward me off. This guy was tough.
Before we could fall into the brutal rhythm of the fight, however, Armsmaster slowed, enough that one of Kaiser's attacks got close enough to glance off his armoured side. "Are you ok?" I asked, backing up slightly to check on him.
Armsmaster didn't respond. Instead, he spoke on the public channel to all the capes present. "Status update," he announced, his voice projected directly from the earpiece in my ear. "Wards team intercepted a secondary Empire unit attempting egress a few blocks east. Confirmed hostile: Hookwolf. Wards Aegis, Gallant, and Vista engaged. They are requesting urgent backup. Gallant is reporting critical injury."
My blood went cold. Gallant injured? Hookwolf? I opened my mouth to volunteer, to demand to go, but Aunt beat me to it.
"Glory Girl! Laserdream! Go!" she commanded, her voice tight as she weaved mid-air, dodging a wide swing from one of the giantesses. Armsmaster rattled off a set of coordinates before swinging at another spear thrusting his way. "Go. Now."
I didn't need to be told twice. "On it!" I yelled, rising into the air. Crystal was a few meters behind me, her expression grim. We climbed, banking hard east, the sounds of the battle fading quickly behind us.
The coordinates Armsmaster provided led us to a commercial area a minute away from the fight with Kaiser. When we arrived, the scene that welcomed us made my breath catch.
Aegis was down, sprawled near a crumpled dumpster, his costume shredded, limbs bent at unnatural angles, though even from here I could see the sickening crawl of regeneration knitting torn flesh back together. Vista was retreating, ducking and weaving as she led away an enraged Hookwolf from her teammates, the space around her warping just enough to keep the villain from mauling her to death. Even from this far up, she looked small, terrified, her costume streaked with grime as she fled from the terrifying vortex of whirling blades, hooks, and scrap metal that was the villain.
And Gallant… his blue and silver armour was mangled, ripped open like cheap tin. He lay crumpled against the brickwork, unmoving.
Rage, cold and pure, flooded me. "Crystal!" I yelled as I dropped like a stone towards Hookwolf.
I hit the villain's spinning flank with everything I had. My force field met the whirling metal with a shriek of stressed energy, the impact echoing through the alley like a bomb blast. Shield flickered out of existence. Metal buckled. Blades snapped. Hookwolf roared, staggering, the whirlwind faltering for an instant.
"Get away from them!" I screamed. Crystal's lasers sliced down then, coherent beams of energy scoring white-hot lines across his shifting form. He howled, twisting, blades lashing out. One caught my arm, dispelling my shield a second and jarring me with sheer force.
Crystal hammered him again as I floated out of reach to restore my force field. A moment later, I slammed into him, knocking him into the side of a building. The villain took the punishment for maybe ten seconds, his form shrinking, consolidating, the roar turning into something high-pitched and furious. Then, suddenly, he disengaged, the whirlwind collapsing inward, coalescing into a vaguely canine shape that shot down the alley, shedding metal shards as he fled. He didn't even look back.
The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by the hiss of rain on hot metal and someone's ragged breathing. Mine.
"He's gone," Crystal said, landing beside me, her own breath coming fast.
"Yeah," I whispered, the rage draining away, leaving me shaky. I turned, my eyes immediately finding Gallant. "Dean!"
I rushed to his side, Crystal a step behind me. Aegis was already stirring, groaning, limbs clicking back into place with wet, tearing sounds. Vista had stopped running, slumping against the wall, tears cutting clean tracks through the dirt on her face.
But Gallant… Oh god, Dean. His helmet was cracked, visor shattered. The armour over his chest and abdomen was peeled back, revealing… red. So much red. Deep gashes wept blood onto the sodden ground, pooling beneath him. His eyes were closed, his face pale, slack.
"No," I breathed. I knelt beside him, reaching out, my hand hovering over the horrific wounds. "No, no, no…"
Behind me, Crystal made a choked sound and stumbled back, turning away to vomit violently against the warehouse wall.
I barely noticed. All I could see was Dean. Still. Too still. Terror, cold and sharp, pierced through the adrenaline haze.
"Amy," I whispered. "We need Amy."
I gathered him up gently, carefully, his body limp in my arms. His armour was cold, wet metal against my skin, but underneath… underneath he felt frighteningly fragile. I rose into the air, cradling him close.
"Vista, Aegis," Crystal managed, her voice strained after composing herself. "Can you walk? We need to get you clear."
Aegis nodded mutely, already pulling himself up. Vista just stared, shivering.
I couldn't wait. "Meet you at Brockton General," I choked out, and flew.
The flight was a blur of wind noise and frantic prayer. Hold on, Dean. Just hold on. Amy's waiting. Amy can fix anything. Please, please hold on. He felt too light in my arms. Too cold.
I landed outside the Emergency entrance, ignoring the shouts of security, bursting through the doors. The familiar sterile smell of antiseptic hit me, a sharp contrast to the alley's stench. People stared – nurses, orderlies, patients in waiting rooms – but I only had eyes for one person.
Amy looked up from where she stood talking to a harried-looking doctor, her eyes widening as she saw me, saw who I carried. Her face paled.
"Amy!" My voice broke. "Help him! Please!"
She didn't hesitate, rushing forward. She reached Dean as I laid him carefully on the nearest gurney, the nurses finally snapping into action around us. Her hands hovered over his chest, her brow furrowed in intense concentration, the green glow deepening.
For a second, hope surged. She could do it. She was Panacea.
Then her face crumpled. Her hands dropped, and she looked up at me, her eyes filled with a helpless agony that mirrored my own dawning horror.
"Vicky…" she whispered, her voice trembling. "I… I can't."
She shook her head, hands shivering.
"He's already dead."