2103:11:01:23:57:02

  We were busy training when Crowsong’s phone rang. She pulled in her barbed whip of a sword and walked to the base’s lounge. Answering the call, Crowsong listened in silence for around a minute before putting it down without uttering so much as a word.

  She signaled for me to come over, so I stopped my mimicry training and did. “Get ready, we’ve been summoned by our handler,” she explained, voice edging toward mockery. Nth-Sight must’ve gotten on her nerves again, as he so often did.

  The fact that it wasn’t outright mockery, however, made me curious. “What’d he say?” I asked, grabbing my marotte-shaped baton from the table I’d left it on.

  Crowsong grabbed her coat – her new coat, her war coat – along with her belt of many knives from her locker, putting both of them on. “Something exciting, for once.” A reluctant admittance. “And one with a mission attached as well.”

  We walked toward the large metal doors of the warehouse, though we thankfully didn’t have to open those monstrosities – there were smaller, regular-sized doors within them we could walk through.

  “There’s an ongoing situation in The Hub – at Unified Rail’s rail yard and maintenance depot, to be exact. A hero and a villain are fighting each other. Or are going to fight each other soon, Nth-Sight wasn’t exactly clear on that,” Crowsong explained as she unlocked the door. “Which hero and villain is unclear, but he did say they’re both minors. Hence, us.”

  We stepped outside and Crowsong locked the door behind us. “So, we go in, help the hero and apprehend the villain?” I asked, getting excited. It was my first encounter – well, technically second, but Mauvist didn’t count – with a villain. A milestone, and if all went well and we captured them, a second milestone as well! A firm tread on the road to ever greater heroics!

  “If it were that easy Nth-Sight wouldn’t have called us in,” Crowsong said, stopping our walk and turning to face me. “No, although the engagement seems small, he told me this was a defining moment in how the Jannacht’s incursion into the city unfolds. Which is why he wants control over it.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “He left the details vague – nothing new about that,” Crowsong lightly sneered. That it was, again, a light sneer warned me something was up. “But he saw a third party intervening and the event spiraling. And by that I mean the encounter will turn deadly unless we intervene.”

  That explained why Crowsong was treating this seriously, but, “Isn’t that just… normal?” That wasn’t the right word exactly, but I could find no other.

  Although deaths were a common part of the masquerade, it wasn’t as if it happened constantly. Charm’s latest masked death was somewhere in June of this year, and that was a Treaty related one. The one before that was at the very start of this year, when Crowsong’s mentor, Blackhawk, was killed by Dieselpriest of Motorgang.

  In hindsight, the relative bloodlessness of recent years might say more about Charm’s masked scene than it did the masquerade in general.

  Either way, it seemed that Crowsong understood what I was getting at. “It’s about precedent. As far as I know, this is the first encounter between Charm’s heroes and Jannacht’s villains,” she said. “A lethal first encounter? That by itself sets the bar for acceptable levels of violence far too high. For the one being killed to be a minor?” She shook her head. “That’s not just a high bar, that’s the kind of thing to jump-start a cycle of violence in the highest gear possible.”

  “And Nth-Sight wants us to prevent that,” I asked.

  “Exactly,” Crowsong replied. “We’re there to make sure that no one dies. Doesn’t matter if they’re a hero or villain, no one. Even if it means that the villain or villains get away. Are we clear on that?”

  “Crystal,” I replied. Focusing on preventing deaths was more heroic than just capturing villains. It was the so-called ‘bigger picture’ or the greater good of heroics, things Crowsong always emphasized when things got difficult. Though sometimes – like in the case of her interrogations – I had difficulty understanding them.

  At least this case was clear cut.

  “Then let’s go,” Crowsong concluded. “He’s sent me the coordinates, so just follow me from above and keep an eye out.”

  I saluted, transformed into a crow and off we went.

  X

  With Crowsong – or Nth-Sight, really – emphasizing the lethality of this fight, I’d figured the area would show signs of that lethality. Explosions, the earth shaking, buildings collapsing, trains flying, exotic beams of light shooting into the air, or at least a few fires scattered about.

  Instead, we arrived at a silent train yard. The trains stood motionless on their tracks, the cranes unoperated, the offices dark and the warehouses closed. Perhaps it was a deceptive silence that hid a lethal game of cat and mouse, but it was silent all the same.

  I swooped down on Crowsong’s shoulders, waiting for instructions. “Scout around. See if you can find anything,” she whispered. I nodded and took off into the air once more.

  Once I was a bit higher up, I briefly shifted back to base form before shifting into a snowy owl. The crow form might be my favorite – and an aesthetic fit with my mentor – but the owl had much better night vision than the crow, albeit with a narrower field of view.

  I looked at the many, many trains scattered about, trying to spot anything amiss. I searched the corridors between them, searched their roofs, the warehouses and offices next to them, but saw nothing. I even tried to scout inside the trains as best I could from this far up, but again, nothing.

  Then, from the corner of my vision, I saw a figure climb atop the roof of a passenger train. And it wasn’t just a quick climb, but an exceptionally quick one without the hallmark of someone jumping up the attached ladders. My owl eyes witnessed them climbing rapidly, hastily, sweatily, but unskillfully, using every step of the ladder.

  The masked was a super, a speedster to be exact, and one I recognized. Dressed in a black-and-yellow striped costume with a bug-eyed helmet and a tiny bumblebee on his right pectoral, it was Bizz-Buzz of the Acolytes, the Guardians’ junior division. He was a speedster in the classical sense, where he could do everything a normal person could, except far faster. No infinite stamina, no restrictions on how big a punch he could pack – except for what his power granted and his body could handle, of course – and definitely no false light-speed or breaking the sound barrier. Just speed far beyond the norm.

  Oh, and a slight buzz as he moved. Hence the bee theme.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  As far as I could see, he was here alone.

  The boy rested at the top of the train, hands on his knees and panting heavily. His hand went to his ear, likely in order to communicate something to his mentor or another hero, but before he could I saw him suddenly jump away at super speeds.

  A black blur raced past him at practically the same instant, passing over the rows of trains without appearing to be hindered by the gaps between them. They went too fast for my eyes to follow, but thankfully they couldn’t maintain their speed indefinitely. They stopped a few trains over, appearing as if out of nowhere.

  I recognized her as well. Dressed in an all-black fencer’s outfit with wings attached to her helmet, it was Acute Puncture, a junior of the Jannacht Syndicate. Crowsong had shown me what was known about her, and while it had many gaps about the specifics, her power was easy to understand. She could dash quickly – far quicker than Bizz-Buzz – but only forwards or backwards. The energy such speeds contained thankfully didn’t carry over to any weapon or attack she had on her, but to compensate she carried a maker-made rapier that could pierce anything regardless of the force behind it.

  I hovered for a moment longer, watching Acute Puncture dash towards Bizz-Buzz one more time. Again, the young hero dodged with great haste, but despite that his escape wasn’t a narrow one. He was, for now, not in any danger of dying.

  Concluding such, I flew back and found my mentor standing atop another train, closer to where the fighting was happening than when we arrived. I transformed next to her.

  “Bizz-Buzz and Acute Puncture,” I told my mentor.

  She nodded. “A bad matchup for Bizz-Buzz – she’s quicker, and even with her limitations that usually spells the end of any speedster fight. Especially with how lethal she is with her rapier. How well’s he managing?”

  I waggled my hand back and forth. “He’s tired, but not exhausted. His dodges still have plenty of room left, but his constant need to evade will tire him out sooner or later.”

  “Good enough for now. Any sign of the third?” she asked. I shook my head in response. “Alright. Now, listen close. Acute Puncture is a bad matchup for me – I doubt I can sneak up to her quickly enough to take her down, and if she spots me before that I won’t be able to do anything but be skewered. Thus, I’ll leave this up to you. My advice, try to catch her at her destination when she needs to reorient. I’ll keep a lookout for our missing third in the meantime. Think you can manage?”

  I felt my chest swell with a mix of pride and anxiety. Crowsong trusted me to handle this, trusted my capabilities to bring down this villain. “Yes,” I replied. I would live up to those expectations.

  She nodded. “Good. And remember, our primary objective is to make sure no-one dies. Do not risk your life trying to catch her if she flees.” Without further ado, she jumped off the train and sped away, heading towards a nearby crane.

  I transformed again, though not into a snowy owl this time. Instead, I chose the peregrine falcon, another one of my new forms I’d already mastered. While their low-light vision was far worse than the owl’s, its diving speeds were far faster.

  And I would be needing that speed. The first strike would be the defining one. Without the element of surprise, not only would it be a lot harder to catch her at the destination, but Acute Puncture might try to run if she can’t deal with both me and Bizz-Buzz at the same time.

  Preventing deaths might be our main objective, but I still wanted to catch the villain if I could.

  I searched the area I’d last seen them, and while their fight had moved further north, I quickly found them again. Their engagement was still following the same pattern as before, locked in a stalemate thanks to Bizz-Buzz’s tactical thinking. The hero used the environment against his opponent, climbing up, jumping down or rolling underneath trains to avoid Acute Puncture’s deadly strikes. He was using the one comparative advantage in powers he had over Acute Puncture: versatility.

  But clever as it was, it was a tactic that could not last forever. Bizz-Buzz was tiring quick, whereas Acute Puncture’s dashes didn’t seem to tire her at all. Sooner or later, the hero would make a mistake and the villain would capitalize on it.

  Unbeknownst to him, his tactics gave me an opportunity. Acute Puncture had to stop in order to climb up or jump down one of the trains, a moment where she was at her most vulnerable. All I would need to do is time it right and strike before she could dash away again.

  I watched, counting the milliseconds her dashes took as she went back and forth through a narrow, sandy corridor between two trains. I watched, estimating the length of her dashes as she moved across the roof of red cargo containers quick as lightning. I watched, timing how long it took her to climb atop, over, under or down a train. All to figure out the best time to strike.

  Then, once I figured that out, I acted.

  Bizz-Buzz dropped down in the narrow ravine between two trains.

  Acute Puncture followed.

  I started my dive, aiming for a space several meters behind the hero.

  The villain dashed down its corridor toward the Acolyte masked, who once more beat a hasty retreat, grabbing the ladder welded onto the train’s sides. As before, he managed to climb up it in time to dodge the attack.

  I readjusted my dive, angling towards the top of the passenger train right beside the space I’d been aiming for.

  Acute Puncture repeated her previous pattern, following the hero to the top of the train at regular human speeds. The hero himself was exhausted, already much slower than he was the first time I’d seen him. Still, he stayed on top to force the villain to follow.

  I flapped my wings to slow down my descent. Cannoning into her at over 150 km/h would not end well for anyone.

  Though her powers couldn’t aid her, the villain was skilled, athletic and used to the chase by now. She climbed up the ladder in little over a second – more of a leap than a climb, really. Acute Puncture turned to look at Bizz-Buzz.

  I shifted back, transforming into my human self, marotte in hand.

  She aimed and dashed once more, Bizz-Buzz leaping out of the way and down to ground level once again. She reappeared outside of her powered state behind where the hero had once stood, and exactly where I’d been aiming.

  I barreled into her before she could give chase again, dragging her to the ground with all the force my descent brought.

  First order of business was disarming her. Her rapier was maker-made and a weapon I could not defend against. I didn’t know if it was only its point that had special properties, but wasn’t eager to test its edge.

  I swung my legs around to pin her left arm – the one without the sword – while using my body itself to pin hers to the ground. My left hand reached for weapon, hoping to pry open her fingers and rid her of it.

  Unfortunately, despite my surprise attack, the villain was aware enough to try and keep her weapon out of reach, stretching her arm as far away from me as she could. Simultaneously, she attacked me with her knees, striking my back. The attacks did little due to her poor position and my armor, but it did give her some wriggle room to try and escape. She managed to slip out from under my hold by the barest of margins.

  That would not do.

  I repositioned, levering the hold my legs had on her left arm to push myself up to her right, closer to her sword arm while also putting more pressure directly on her chest. Her body now pinned and mine shifted to be higher up, I aimed to get the sword again.

  With a big, arching swing, I slammed the butt of my metal marotte onto her clenched fingers.

  They shattered with a horrifying crack, followed by a high-pitched, “Aaagh!”, leaving Acute Puncture’s throat. I ignored my target’s pain and focused on the matter at hand – the sooner this was over with, the better.

  I pried at her broken fingers curled around the sword’s grip, forcing them open with ease before flinging the weapon off the side of the train. With one hand useless, her other held between my legs, her weapon gone and her body pinned, the fight was all but over.

  Acute Puncture refused to accept this basic fact. Her resistance grew more desperate, her struggles turning frantic in a last ditch attempt to get out from under me. But without her weapon, her struggles were futile, my android body providing me with more than enough strength to maintain the hold.

  A light buzz reached my ear through the sound of Acute Puncture’s incoherent screams. “Need a hand?” a boyish voice asked from behind.

  Acute Puncture’s resistance intensified once more. “Fuck you!” Droplets of spit hit my mask.

  “Zip-ties,” I said, focusing on holding my grip. “In my pouch.”

  I felt hands go through them and rummage around for a second before retreating. “I flip her over, you bind her,” I said, earning another storm of spit-filled curses from Acute Puncture.

  “Got it. Just say when,” Bizz-Buzz replied.

  “Three.” I felt Acute Puncture still herself, tensing in preparation. If my thoughts were correct, she was aiming to throw her all into it the moment the countdown hit zero.

  But in doing so, she provided me with an opportunity.

  “Two.” I twisted my body, taking advantage of the villain’s momentary lapse of judgement. Caught off-guard and with minimal resistance, I flipped our positions, using my arms and legs to restrain her from behind.

  “Now!” I yelled. Naturally, the speedster worked fast. Within a second, Acute Puncture was tied and ready for shipping.

  I pushed her off of me – the villain yelped in response – and stood up.

  “Fucking bastards!” she yelled. “Just wait until-” Bizz-Buzz crouched next to her and put a tool of his own on the villain’s collar, instantly cutting off any noise coming from the villain. A maker device if I’d had to guess.

  The hero rose again and dusted his hands theatrically. “Much better,” he said with a visible smile – a benefit of wearing half a mask. “Thanks for the help. Jester, right?”

  I nodded and reached out my hand. “Yes. And you are Bizz-Buzz.”

  The hero looked at me quizzically, but took my hand and shook it.

  “Correct in one.” He smiled again. “Now that that’s done with, I should-”

  “It’s not over yet,” I interrupted.

  His smile twitched and shoulders tensed. “What do you mean?”

  “We’ve got intel another villain’s coming,” I explained. “We don’t know who. My mentor is-”

  I saw Bizz-Buzz’s head minutely twitch to something behind me, his smile transforming into an expression still moments away from becoming recognizable. A fraction of a second later, a bright light appeared from my back, followed immediately by a burst of heat.

  In that single instant, instinct carried me through two thoughts and one action:

  Fire.

  I was in my most vulnerable form.

  I shifted into a rhino.

  My new bulk grew and threw both Bizz-Buzz and Acute Puncture from the top of the train, allowing them to escape the fire.

  I was not so lucky.

  The blast hit me right on the back, and while a rhino’s hide was thick, it wasn’t fireproof. Skin sizzled and soon enough, flesh followed. I roared in pain, the worst I’d ever felt.

  Fortunately, the stream of flames did not last long enough to reduce me to ash. The second it stopped, I shifted back into human form.

  The sudden disappearance of the pain signals flooding my mind left a strange hollowness behind, my nerves twitching in response to a pain that doesn’t exist, a phantom haunting my body that send my mind reeling. Likewise, my back-and-forth changes in bulk and proportion messed with my sense of balance and place, while the more subtle differences between rhino and regular human senses disoriented me even further. A wave of vertigo washed over me, dizziness followed by nausea followed by an outright fainting spell; my non-mastery of a mimicry form rearing its ugly head once again.

  My legs buckled out from under me and I collapsed to the still-hot metal floor.

  Footsteps followed my collapse, a light ring coming from the train’s metal roof sounding under the footsteps. I managed to twist onto my back to look at the form of my would-be killer, and found myself facing a short, prepubescent boy.